Episode 16 - R&R [4th]

The last RPG was "Zeta Gundam: Tales from the Frontlines - The AEUG" which ran from 2006-14.
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Episode 16 - R&R [4th]

ZETA GUNDAM: TALES FROM THE FRONTLINES - THE AEUG

“Whether in the afterlife, or somewhere else, the soul that once inhabited this shell is probably not at peace.

Further out, there is a blue-green planet where intelligent life has evolved.

There, humans bear and raise children. Too often, they grow arrogant, and take the gift of life for granted...”


ARC 3 -- AXIS RETURNS

~October 12, Universal Century 0087~
~20:28 Coordinated Universal Time~


- Amman -

- The Dervish -
- Bridge -

Over six weeks after returning to the moon after the ambush at Side 2, the 4th Advance Squadron was very close to completing all repairs. At the moment, the ships were safely in port, even after Von Braun spaceport had been bombed by the Titans only two days earlier. Even though the local AEUG units were on alert because of the attack, the 4th was unofficially awaiting the end of their review period and reinforcement before they would return to full active duty.

The other investors and officials of the AEUG had stretched their inquiries into a series of meetings throughout September, questioning not only Capt. Abbey and Gates but several other higher ranked members of the staff. After Blex died the 4th’s situation was temporarily moved to the back burner. The squadron had received new Nemos and several replacement pilots quickly enough, and Sager forced the crew at Amman to begin working on the ships immediately, but the other matters were put on hold.

“No, I’m sure of it, thank you. I’ve seen quite enough to leave the fighting to the soldiers,” Gates protested, frowning at Abbey’s half-serious invitation to go back out on patrol with the fleet. Abbey stood a few steps in front of his chair, looking up at the sponsor’s frowning face projected on the bridge’s main screen. The captain smiled and chuckled, “I won’t beg,”. Gates dabbed his forehead with a silk handkerchief and shook his head again, looking a little squeamish.

There was more to Gates than a selfish fat cat, it turned out, and he had shown some uncommon and unexpected behavior once they had returned to Luna from Hatte. When he and Abbey had gone before the review board, Gates had decided on his own to take the lion’s share of the blame for the 4th’s actions and had diverted most of the heat away from Abbey and the others. Part of the board’s decision was to keep the 4th at its current configuration, without replacing the Gela and Thunderchild.

Gates shifted in his seat and grumbled, “As you’re aware, I’ve got two units to split my attention between now, Carl. Those morons practically forced me to replace the two Salamis Kais we lost, and then they had them assigned back into the escort pool,”. He added with a snort, “Idiots,”. Abbey raised an eyebrow and asked politely, “And those fellows from Anaheim...?” trying to coax an answer from him. Gates waved his hand dismissively and admitted only, “Well, you know. I’m not a fool,”.

That he wasn’t. Once the meetings were over and Gates was free to do his thing, he went right back to making his money talk. The Dervish had received not only a full set of new Rick Dias parts to replace the damaged units, but along with it came two men from Anaheim Electronics. Gates didn’t really explain their presence, but he did hint that their presence involved the transfer of a substantial sum of capital.

“Have you, ah, talked to them?” Gates asked after a pause, leaning forward expectantly. Abbey cocked his slightly, a bit puzzled, and cleared his throat, “Well, yes, I did. Briefly. Why?”. Gates leaned back and laughed, “You’ll see, Carl. The doctor is a unique man. And uniqueness isn’t cheap in this day and age,”.

- Hangar -

Sager floated closely behind Dr. Merkwürdigliebe, who had somehow come aboard and into his hangar without the chief knowing about it. The dark-suited man was wandering up to the Rick Diases in their berths and studying them intently. “Uh, who did you say you were again?” Sager asked, noting the AE pin on the man’s lapel. “Ehehe, yes. I see you’re quite the capable mechanic,” the doctor mumbled, barely loud enough for Sager to hear. He seemed engrossed with a joint in the Rick Dias’ foot. “Hey man,” Sager interjected, this time a little more forcefully, “Why are you in here?”.

Dr. M stopped tapping on the suit’s foot and turned around. “I am, er, Dr. Gerhard A. Merkwürdigliebe. At your, ah, at your service,” he clumsily introduced himself, holding a hand out. Sager shook his hand, still a bit dubious, before brightening up when he recognized the man’s strange name. “Wait a minute! You’re one of the guys they said would be coming around to ride along with my crew,” he said, loosening up a little. The doctor mumbled an affirmative and wandered away before Sager could question him further.

The chief watched him for a moment, noting the man’s propensity to fidget with his right hand. He seemed to clench it into a tight fist at random as if it were a tic, until he forced himself to stop with his left hand. He did it often enough that he went through the whole routine without being conscious of it. Sager blew out a sigh and shook his head. “Supposed to be two of ‘em, boss,” somebody from the crew called out from behind him, gently teasing the chief’s exasperation. Sager turned around and retorted, “Yeah, and you guys are going to have to put up with ‘em just like I do, ‘cept you don’t get to tell ‘em to do anything since you’ll never get promoted, smartass”.

- Mess Hall -

With a disappointed frown, Michiko poked at the food she had stood in line for. Across from her, Clute and Fritz wolfed their meals down in typical military fashion. “I thought they said we were having cake today,” she said, trying to start a conversation. Clute shrugged and continued his meal, and Fritz reached over picked up a square of desert from his tray and pushed the small plate in Michiko’s direction. “That’s cake?” she asked, not sounding convinced.

Fritz had come back from the meetings acting normal around everyone, but he had only recently told Michiko about the way his follow-up talk went with Abbey. He had offered to accept a demotion back to lieutenant and to give up control of Team 1, but Abbey decided against it. She was glad to hear that he had told the captain that pursuing revenge against the Ritters had left him feeling empty after he killed Mercedes. Apparently Abbey had taken Fritz at his word that he wouldn’t let his personal business interfere with the AEUG. Of course, she also knew that he would be keeping an eye on Fritz.

Another development that came out of that talk was the reassignments aboard the Dervish. Fritz suggested to the captain that Wes and Jim be separated for the sake of group morale, and Abbey had agreed to move Wes to Team 2 to replace Roy Grunwald. That still left them lacking a pilot, and the captain eventually chose Pan Heyden. The man had helped them clear the fleet’s escape route from Side 2, and Fritz had vouched for his abilities.

“You’d think there’d be more pilots in here, ya know?” Clute said, interrupting her thoughts. Since the 4th’s MS pilots didn’t have much to do beyond making sure their suits didn’t disappear from the hangar, the teams had taken to hanging around the mess hall and rec rooms. “Thought I saw Markado on the way here,” Fritz said between bites.

- The New Yark -
- Hangar -

Mello and Thibaut stood next to each other, leaning on a catwalk railing looking down into their ship’s hangar. More specifically, they were focused on the backside of the New Yark’s newest pilot, Ens. Coggs, who was leaning into the cockpit of her Nemo from the outside. “Hell of a lot better view since Heyden left. I wouldn’t turn down a trade for Ramon either if I hadn’t served with the guy for so long,” the lieutenant clucked, nudging Chareux in the ribs. Thibaut turned red but smiled.

- The Hamburg -
- Bridge -

Loweno chewed his thumbnail while he lounged in his command chair and watched a video feed of the crew working on the ship’s hull. He was eager to get back into action, probably more so than anyone else in the fleet from sheer pent-up energy alone. Not only was his ship patched together, but he had an entirely new MS team. He’d been through worse, of course (or at least he’d claim so), and perhaps he had. The Hamburg had been out on her own for a long time with not much contact before he had joined the 4th. “About time for something interesting to happen around here,” he muttered. Sitting around for a month and a half was not his style at all.
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-Dervish- Hanger

Floating towards the group in the hangar, a voice called out, "Hey, Dr. M! I've been looking all over for you." A man in his mid-twenties, clad in jeans, a workshirt, work boots and an AE maintenance jacket carried a number of rolled blueprints under an arm and had a laptop satchel over his shoulder. He stops by the Chief and extends a hand. "Hi, Rem Banner. I'm from Anaheim with Dr. M over there," nodding towards the eccentric. "I hope we can work with you and your crew to really get these guys to hum," looking to the Rick Dias suits in the bay.
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-Amman-
-Port Holding The Dervish-

It was, to Cowboy, somehow both chaotic and orderly. The port in which the Dervish sat, as it had for the past several weeks, had people coming and going at nearly all hours of the day and night, doing one thing or another. Repairs were nearly completed and now supplies that would get the ship would need for a cruise were being loaded.

Marvin sat on a pile of empty metal crates that had brought some supplies to the ship, food items, he thought. It had become something of a routine when he had time off; he'd come down to the dock, find a pile of crates sitting around as some always were, and simply watch the goings on of the hanger. He was almost always left alone, and he did enjoy doing nothing like this.

Cowboy could have done other things. He could have gone into Amman had he felt the want, and he had twice in the past six weeks, but he'd never really felt at peace alone in the city. He'd gotten offers to go with some people into the city, but never took them up. He enjoyed being alone, it made him peaceful, and had helped him grieve with the losses the Dervish had suffered in it's last action, mainly those that hit him.

An electric car pulled up not far away and out stepped Ian Greydon, who leaned back into grab a white plastic bag, waved to someone in the car, which then sped off. Ian quickly spotted Marvin's spot of the day and stolled over, "Howyadoin' Marv?"

Marvin managed a weak grin, "Alright. How was Amman?".

Ian shrugged and set his bag down "Not bad. I was going to see a movie with Eddie and Jane earlier, but there was some delay at the theater and I didn't feel like waiting, so I went downtown early to see some old friends."

"'Old Friends' you said?", Marvin asked quizically.

Ian grinned and snorted a laugh, "Yeah. Some guys I knew back in the day who work for Anaheim now. We met at a bar in town, had a couple drinks, caught up, told some old stories. Usual stuff when some old friends meet."

"Plotting to revive the Principality, are ya!"

Both men turned there heads towards the voice. Eddie and Jane stood before them, both, like Ian, in civilian clothing, but looking oddly suited to it. The civilian look was completed by a large shopping bag each carried and Eddie having his left arm over Jane's shoulder, with her right around his waist. Eddie was grinning ear to ear, although Marvin blushed, as usual, at Jane's usual polite and attractive smile. Ian's grin became lopsided, "There isn't enough booze on this rock to get me to try that sort of thing."

Eddie chuckled, while Jane's smile grew slightly before she spoke, "Ian, you should have waited. The place let us in about five minutes after you left."

Ian rubbed his nose, "Aw that's too bad. Well, what'd ya see?".

The couple seemed to pull a bit closer together as Eddie started to talk, "The sequel to Shining Blue Fire. It was pretty good, 'cept that annoying fat f*** with the purple hair was in it again." Jane rolled her eyes and seemed to supress a laugh at that comment, while Eddie continued, "But don't worry, I picked up a copy of it before I can back." He shook the bag in his right hand.

Marvin barked a laugh at that, prompting the others to grin a little more, while Ian snorted a laugh, "So where did you kids go after the movie?", He asked.

Jane answered Ian's question, "Shopping. We picked up some junk food and stuff Eddie wants-"

"Some random-ass shirts." Eckardy reported with a grin.

"-and some other stuff that's pretty much for the good of the crew."

"Which reminds me..." Eddie said, pulling away from Jane and began searching around into the bag he held. A few muttered curses later, he produced what looked like a shoebox and tossed it to Marvin. "Merry F***in' October, Cowboy." The youngest man opened the box to find a few packs of cigarettes and a few lighters. "Now you won't need to bum them off me anymore." Eckardy smirked as he put his arm back around Jane.

"No comment." Ian flashed his teeth.

Eddie's grin remained in place, as usual, as Jane spoke again. "We also stopped by Eddie's place in the city and picked up some other stuff, a few movies and some decks of cards and things like that." Marvin noticed that both of their faces alter ever so slightly which, combined with some rumples in their clothing and messes in their hair, spoke more of the reason they stopped at Eddie's apartment. Marvin grinned a little more as Ian turned toward him.

"So, any news from the ship?"

Marvin leaned foward and nodded, "Yeah. There was a message a few hours ago confirming that Wes Curren is officially in our team now."

Greydon and Eckardy both nodded, the latter spoke, as usual, "Better him than MacAlpin. Guess we must add a new member to our evil cult."

"I'll get the paddle." Ian said with a mock salute of his hand.

Jane sighed and grinned, "Please continue, Marvin."

Marvin blushed again, "Some AE guys showed up not too long ago, but I don't know what the hell they're here for." He paused for a moment and thought, before adding, "And incase you guys forgot, we all go back on duty at 20:30."

That comment prompted Ian and Jane to check their watches, with Eddie looking at the latter's, and all seeing they had about twenty minutes. Eddie spoke for them. "Well, I think we need to go and get this junk squared away."

Ian stood, "Same here. I'm also going to head on down to the mess hall and get something to eat in a bit."

Eddie nodded approval, "I might do the same." He glanced at Marvin, "And if either of you run into Wes, make sure he knows what's going on. Hell, invite him to eat with ya." Eddie grinned as he and Jane started off. "Later kids." He yelled and the two headed off toward a hatch of the ship.

Ian stood a moment later and collected his bag, "Coming?".

Marvin shook his head, "In a bit." No further words were said. Ian nodded and waved his goodbye before heading in the same direction Eddie and Jane had taken, leaving Marvin alone again. He stretched, causing a few pops and cracks, and went back to enjoying another few minutes of people watching. Things almost felt like they were back to normal for Marvin 'Cowboy' Hamilton.

Of course, that depended on what 'normal' even ment, and Cowboy didn't know that.
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Richard had settled quite nicely into his quarters on the Dervish, his room more or less bare of anything due to his not knowing what to deck it out with. What was there, was a brand new stereo he bought with the bonus he picked up with his new commission. It was a nice change from the two speaker stereo set he had in his old Gela quarters, so at least the room wasn't a total washout. The corner of the room had a mini-fridge installed, something he could thank gravity for on the new ship. Inside he had several bottles of Side 3 whiskey, bummed off of a street trader for a Zeon Cross 3rd class.

Rich didn't really have any need for the medal, so if it bought him some booze and discs; then more power to him.

With a pop of the neck and back, Rich hopped up from his bunk and knocked the last of the whiskey in his glass down the gullet. He placed the glass on his desk and pulled his uniform jacket off of the desk chair across the room. It was some sort of new Federal style uniform, but not as gaudy as the OYW types. Rich kinda liked that, and after zipping up his uniform jacket, he flared the collar and whipped on his uniform belt. On the belt was a standard issue (Read Federal surplus) M7A1 handgun with a leather holster and clip which fastened it snugly to his right hip. He brushed off the dust and metal shavings that had gathered on the jacket before straightening it and stopping in front of the mirror on the wall.

"Well, time to start week two, Rich."

With a slight grimace, Rich trudged out of his room and closed the door behind him; nodding to a passing crewman before heading up toward the bridge. It didn't take him long either to make it up there, reconditioning and working out helped him get in shape really quick and back on duty. He nodded to another crewman as he left the bridge, before Rich himself entered and gave a salute to Abbey as he leaned against one of the consoles.

"Captain. How'd the inquiry go?"
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--1735, Jan. 5 UC0079--
--Side 2, Outside of Colony New Washington--

A man, 1 of only 8 people in the rather spacious compartment, speaks up.

“Are you sure the Zeon are gone?”

Another man,

“That’s what the intel said.”

“But how can they be sure? The could be laying in wait.”

“You mean they are waiting to ambush a SAR shuttle, brilliant.”

“I doubt there’s any left out there. They all seemed pretty interested in that colony they stole, and with the Fleet on their ass like that, I doubt they’d waste any forces.”

The third voice comes from a woman in the hatchway with long white hair tucked into her suit and cool blue eyes. She has her helmet cradled under her right arm and is holding onto the grab bar with her left. The thick work suit of colonial construction worker looks almost comically bulky, and with her face, it would look like a kid playing dress up if it were not for the serious look that seems out of place on someone so youthful and for the insignia on her collar that denotes her as an Ensign of the Earth Federal Space Forces.

“Now, get ready. We should be landing in about 3 minutes, and we’ll only have until 2300 to search the colony before it becomes too unstable.”

--2044, Interior of New Washington, 2 hours and 56 minutes until departure--

Celeste has been searching her allotted area for almost 2 and a half hours. While the shuttle is in the Sunward docks, Celeste’s area of operation is the facilities of the other side.

“Hello? Is there anyone there?”

She listens for a reply.

“Hello? Can anybody hear me?”

No one responds. She has a lot of ground to cover, and not nearly enough time, so she has to be less thorough than she’d like on her search, so she sprays an ‘X’ on the wall to signal that she’s already be through this area. As she turns to leave, Celeste hears something in the distance.

“Hello?”

She moves towards the sound and it becomes more distinct: a little girls sobbing. The sound is coming from a door that is slightly ajar. Celeste tries to push the door open, but it doesn’t give very much.

“Don’t worry, I’m here with the Earth Federal Forces Search and Rescue Team, I’ll have you out of there in a second.”

Grabbing the door with both hands and with a foot braced against the frame, Celeste tries again to force the door open, this time with all her strength. The door slowly yields, inch by inch, until it is open enough for her to enter.

The room is pitch black, so she goes for her flashlight.

“Hello?” *Click*

A circle of light shines on a pile of rubble where the wall had caved in. Slowly, she pans the flashlight over to the source of the crying, a little girl who can’t be older than 12. She’s wearing a tattered uniform from the local elementary. Dried blood is caked on her feet, shins, knees, and skirt, with footprints leading back to the pile of rubble. Celeste traces the footsteps with her light and--

*Clatter!*

The flashlight rolls on the ground until it comes to a stop shinning on the corpse of a once beautiful woman with blue hair half buried by the caved in wall. This is the first time Celeste has seen a dead body in person, and this woman did not go peacefully. The look in her still open eyes says it all: she died a slow, agonizing death. It takes all of Celeste’s will power not to vomit right there. After she regains some composure, she picks up her light and goes to the little girl.

“Come on, we have to go…”

Celeste rears out to the little girl and she shrieks.

“NOO!!!”

“Come on. We have to go now.”

“But what about Mommy?”

“She’s…”

Celeste takes a deep breath to steel her nerves.

“Your Mommy’s resting now, but I know she’d want you to come with me.”

“But--”

“Shhh, now let’s go. She’ll catch up with us eventually.”

She leads the girl out through the door and carries her all the way outside to the car that she used to get over here.

“This is Ensign Angelina, One survivor found, a child. Her mother was DOA. I’ll-”

A loud groan echoes from one side of the colony to the other and back again.

“Oh dear G-d, no…”

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“EVERYONE! We need to get back to the ship. NOW!”

“What? Hold on! We still have over 2 ana half hours until we-”

“NO! We are out of time! The Colony’s already begun to rip itself apart!”

Celeste hops into driver seat, with the little girl in the passenger seat.

“But the estimates-”

“Are wrong!”

A new voice cuts into the conversation, a much older, more authoritative than the last man.

“How much longer do we have?”

“20-30 minutes, tops, before the interior is exposed to space when the glass breaks out. Probably another hour, hour and a half before the Colony finally comes apart.”

Celeste floors the accelerator and the electric motor whirls to life.

On the way back to the docks, Celeste passes house after hourse. Debris is scattered all about. Trash, clothes, toys, cars, things people left behind in the panic. It almost seems like they just up and disappeared. Over head and to the sides of the colony, giant cracks race from the Earthward side towards the Sunward side. With a boom, one of the panes shattered inward before being sucked out again.

Damn it! Are we going to make it?

So far in front of the breach, there is hardly any noticeable change in the air around them, but that won’t last.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

More panes shatter, increasing the stress on those around them and in turn causing them to fail.

Finally at the base of the Sunward cap, Celeste slams on the breaks and brings the car to a stop just outside of an airlock.

“Come on!”

She pulls the little girl into her arms and begins running for the door. The panels are blowing out in quick succession now, racing towards them. The wind is picking up now and it is getting harder to breath as the air pressure drops. Celeste runs into the airlock and activates the door. With a hiss, the door closes just as the car is tugged at and finally pulled away by the escaping wind.

--En route to rendezvous point at Colony Lieba, 2240--

“So, Ensign, how did you know the colony was going to collapse sooner than expected?”

The older man, Captain Bruce Vanderkroych, who’d been in the Hospital for a mild heart attack when the Zeon attacked, asks.

“I grew up working on Colonies, and I am almost down with my degrees in Colonial Engineering and Maintenance. Of course, I never saw a colony collapse before, no one has, but for some reason, I just knew it would.”

“And what about the kid?”

“Dunno, sir. Her Mother’s dead, and she said her Father was in the Space Forces… I heard that there weren’t any survivors from the garrison in this area. File says that he didn’t have any other relatives, either.”

“Poor kid. I guess they’ll just stick her in an orphanage.”

“Can I take care of her?”

A man in a business suit stands up. Even with the 20-so-odd survivors they found, including Capt. Vanderkroych and some of the nurses from the hospital, the hold is still way under capacity. The man looks at the girl sleeping in one of the seats, the sedatives already taken effect.

“I… I lost my wife and daughter on that colony… She lost both her parents… I-”

Captain Vanderkroych walks over to the man and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t see a problem with that. We can get it all squared away once we reach Liebe. Now, what’s your name?”



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Heyden glanced in the mirror silently,only the sound of his electric razor humming in his hand broke the silence. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen now that he was on the Dervish. Dervish pilots seemed to get top billing better suits, more dangerous roles, all the glory. Pretty much what the man wanted. But he wasn't sure if he was comfortable here.
The pilot tapped his razor on his sink emptying it's contents and placing it on his charger.

The 30 something year old lit a cigarette and evacuated his room using the only known exit, the doorway. Pan was hungry, so he quickly made his way to the messhall.
As he got in line he spotted his team leader and what he was pretty sure was the Ashyln's woman. Well he wasn't sure anything was going on, but if this Fritz' guy was banging the broad, Pan would gladly show him how it's done.

None of the food really looked pleasing to the Ltjg. So going the safe route he just grabbed 6 hamburgers and a beer. A bit excessive yes, but as stated earlier he was hungry.

He pushed his tray onto his teammates table causing a slight disturbance.

"I don't think it's very funny that they painted my suit pink again..."
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--The Hall--

Transferred to Team 2. Curren didn't know what to think really, considering it was just a minor switch around. From one group of strangers to another, that's all. Was the move supposed to make him pissed for being tossed around like a pile of expendable parts, or relieved that he doesnt have to put up with MacAlpin's whining as much as before? He knows that was why he was moved in the first place; his beef with MacAlpin got him booted off Team 1, and Fritz liked MacAlpin too much to boot the Zeke off. The guy wouldn't even let the Zeke resign.

Then again, it wasn't like Wes fully supported the Team as much as he should have as a former member. Fritz had the tendency of run off on his own or with Michiko, never saying a word of what the hell was going on. Michiko was still in the depression as she always was, and MacAlpin was simply MacAlpin. The new guy would have a hell of a time even trying to understand the people around him. Obviously that Team had its share of problems, and Wes was glad to be out of the mess and tranferred.

But to Team 2? An odd choice, and Curren wondered what Abbey was smoking when he made the rosters. Wes had no contact with them at all besides their united bickering against MacAlpin, but nothing more than that. He expected to be sent to Team 3 at least, where they actually worked well together.

Team 2 (minus the kid they called Cowboy) was a volatile group, and adding Wes's proven volatile attitude made it more of a ticking time bomb. It wouldn't be surprising if Curren would be at odds with another guy again, maybe soon? Place your bets now...

"All this thinking makes me hungry..." he muttered to himself, and actually came out of his absorbed thinking to find himself already heading in the direction of the mess hall. He really needed to stop zoning out when he's walking around...
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-The Dervish-

Eddie had sighed when his watch beeped, officially marking that he'd come back on duty. He'd become used to this over the past few weeks, but he still didn't like it. It almost reminded him of having to go to school as a kid, lifetimes ago.

Eckardy had pulled his Federal-looking uniform on, but did't bother buttoning the shirt, allowing one of his brand new t-shirts, the blue one he had on said "F*** The Titans" in big black letters, to be seen. It was almost perfect for Eddie, it stated his opinion and he found it funny. As usual, he didn't bother combing his unruly hair.

He started down toward the mall hall, and met Ian along the way. Greydon had on his usual blue and grey uniform. He grinned, "Ya know, I think I life these Fed-style uniforms more than the old ones. Those Zeonic things had too much s*** on them. By the way, wonderful shirt."

Eckardy gave his usual grin as they came to the mess hall's enterance, "It's lovely, isn't it?", they entered the mess hall to find it a bit more busy than usual. They made their way to the lunch line and began to load up their trays.
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Curren reached the mess hall to find it more packed than before. Apparently the six weeks of R&R gave everyone more time to eat, or at least feel hungry in this case. It was nice to see that everyone was in better moods these days after what happened only six weeks prior.

Without waiting any longer, Wes jumped into line to begin piling his tray with food. He couldn't remember the last time he sat down with so much food, as his previous meals were either interrupted or smaller from a lack of appetite. Now was a good time to eat, if any, while they still had time to relax.
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Luna Coffee, 3rd and Main, Amman

By all means, going to the bathroom at a Luna Coffee should be a very simple affair. Without waiting or any glamour, Julian Meighan promptly walked through the swinging door of the men's washroom, frowned to himself, and walked himself over to one of the two urinals lined up towards the north wall. Then, once he had positioned himself, he sighed in relief. Luna Coffee was one of the largest companies ever in the entire Earth Sphere, behind four others --- the Lasalle Foundation, the Guardias Earth Sphere Insurance Company, the Buffo Conzern and, of course, the AEUG's very own Anaheim Electronics right at the top --- and even its washrooms were of a splendid, fancy affair, with flowered maroon tiles, marble sinks, oak closets, automatic dryers and some of the cleanest, freshest washrooms in all of Amman.

Julian was lucky, too; There was no line-up, and for that matter nobody else in the washroom with him. Except for one other, dug into the sole toilet box behind plastic walls, and it was not like anyone would care about him, anyway. He liked this washroom. Clean, not smelly, and relatively in good maintenance even during peak hours...

"Pleasant day?" Julian suddenly asked the person in the toilet box, and there was an uneasy pause as Julian unzipped his pants to do his work. This persisted for all of five seconds before the other man finally answered.

"Picking up nothing from the Wave-Feedback Transceiver...No audio bugs. We're good." The man, in a no-nonsense, low-pitched voice, answered. "You been tailed?"

Julian scoffed. "Give me some credit. You?" And above all else, the washroom was very much the least likely place in Amman that one would be surveilled; Nobody in their sane mind would put a security camera into the washroom of a Luna Coffee, and unless they knew right beforehand that Julian was coming here and manage to set an audio bug in the span of mere minutes...

"Of course --- as always. But I lost them at 2nd street."

"They could be deliberately misdirecting."

"Oh, come on, Randall, give me some credit for a change now," The man frowned sharply. Julian chuckled. "Have you seen security around this place? They're a joke. Don't worry; I've been doing this for over two years now---"

"And that's what worries me."

"Right. Like anyone else could pull this off, anyway..." And that was when Julian, seemingly to yawn, stretched out his right hand towards the box beside him...and something solid fell into his palm, quickly disappearing underneath the folds of Julian's jacket pocket. Julian's posture quickly resumed to normal. "...So..." The man continued, and Julian rolled his eyes. "Now, about payment---"

"Check your account. But only after I leave Amman. With the mess about Von Braun, security's only going to get worse."

"If not for Von Braun I would've never gotten what you wanted, Randall. We were lucky the AEUG acted so quickly after the Titans took Von Braun; had the Titans gotten more time to fortify Von Braun and begin browsing through their data I wouldn't be sure if there'd be anything left. Snuck in during the liberation; The Titans were busy salvaging whatever they could so it was a breeze, and, well, you hired me for the encryption and security, so?"

Julian nodded. It was exactly what he expected at Anaheim. "Then you got it?"

"Yeah."

"Good." That was Julian's cue to finish, and he promptly zipped his pants back up and flushed the toilet, scrolling over to the sink for the obligatory hand wash. He smiled to himself. "Wait another fifteen minutes before leaving. After I leave the dock, go to Libot, at Side 6. I'll contact you again there if I can."

"Got it, Randall."

"Right."

That was all Julian said before the noise of the automatic dryer drowned out everything and anything else.
Don't throw the baton, you jacka**!!!
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ScornMandark
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After exchanging greetings with the maintainence crew, Rem turned towards Dr. Merkwurdigliebe and headed over. "I'm going to grab some lunch, Dr. M, and then I'll be back."

Rem left the hangar, looking around until he saw a sign pointing towards the Mess hall and the Bridge. 'Just another day at the office...' he thought as he headed to the somewhat crowded cafeteria. Getting in line, he grabbed a sandwich and a soft drink.

He looked around briefly before heading over to a table with several pilots. One pilot had several hamburgers piled on his plate and had just remarked, "...my suit pink again..."

Hiding a smile, he slid into a seat and extended a hand. "Mind if I sit here? Hi, Rem Banner, Anaheim Electronics engineer. We arrived just today, and we're going to be helping the maintainence guys rebuild and repair. You look like you've been piloting for a while, is there anything you've noticed about the suits in particular so far that could use some tweaking?"
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King Monkey
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Jacob Markado was, mostly, his old self once again. The first three weeks after the savage, hard fought battle in the Shoal Zone were a crisis of conscience and faith for the young pilot. Rather than the thrill of victory and rush of glory he felt over getting his first kill in combat, the reality of their own casualties gave him a sobering reminder that he wasn't just shooting at empty metal cans out there. Every shot he fired, every time he swung a beam saber, he was trying to kill someone, trying to snuff out another person's existence in the wink of an eye.

That, coupled with the fact that the 4th only narrowly escaped complete destruction in the well crafted ambush left the Lt Junior Grade shaken and uncertain. For the entire trip to Amman he split his time between hiding in his room, watching vigil at Lt. Angelina's bedside and quietly doing what he could to help the mechanics piece together the wreckage of a Rick Dias he managed to pilot back to the Dervish.

The relatively easy availability of cheap alcohol gave him a new way of coping with his mental turmoil and he spent more than a week in various states of unconsciousness and alcoholic stupor. It wasn't until a group of opportunistic street punks robbed him while he was staggering back to the Dervish after a night of chemically induced forgetfulness that he ended his bender.

Another week was spent moping around the ship until the roster changes were announced. The very fact that he remained in Team 3 and the reminder that he could be transferred, even off the ship and to another vessel, or out of the task force, for that matter, shocked him out of his funk. Apparently, someone had faith in him and he had a duty to live up to that. So, shaving the scruffy growth from his face, and bathing after far too much time, he went about his duties with renewed vigor.

Of course, his manic desire to prove his worth was almost as bad as his moping and he got in people's way almost as much as he helped until Sager finally ran him out of the hangar with more than a few choice words at high volume and velocity.

Since then, he has slowly returned to the young, eager pilot he was when he first signed on. The youthful gleam is forever gone from his eye, but he no longer appears haunted.

Moving quickly through the line in the mess hall, he gets the normal share of the normal meal, making no special requests before carrying his tray to the table that includes his CO as well as several of the pilots from Team 1 and a man he doesn't recognize.

"Hello," he says quietly, so as not to interrupt anyone as he takes his seat next to Clute Tideland. Rem has just asked his question about their Mobile Suits, but surely someone else is more capable of answering that question than he is.
Yep...That's Texas in a nutshell. Why just say "f**k you" when you can put it on a flag?

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Gambit01
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Location: Behind you......

Celeine hadn't left her room for six weeks.

Well, that wasn't entirely true; she left to pick at some food, and she even took a shower when the smell became even too much for her, but beyond that, she barely even moved off the bed. All she could do was hiccup between tears.

I'm sorry, Celeste...I'm so sorry! It's my fault, I dragged you into this!

At least she had stopped bauling, but even that minor point did nothing to assuage her guilt; she couldn't even some up the courage to visit Celeste, even so much as once. She didn't deserve to.

Hugging her knees to her chest, tears trailed down her cheeks, splashing on her toes before evaporating in the heat of her sorrow...
I mean when you spend precious seconds to give an "All Your Nukes Are Belong To Us" speech before you even start the Gundam up, you know you're too overzealous for your own good.~wza
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-The Dervish-
-Mess Hall-

Eddie and Ian were moving up the line, grabbing various items when Ian spotted Curren and nudged Eckardy. Eddie leaned back, spotting the new addition to their team quickly. He didn't wait a beat before shouting out, "Hey Wes, sit with us." Eckardy's attention then shot back to his food.

"Real subtle, Ed." Ian said, his attention similarly focused as they neared the end of the line.

"That's why I fly tanks and suits." Eddie grinned as he got out of the line, "And don't ask how the f*** I flew a tank." That comment left Ian grinning as Eddie moved to an empty rectangular table near the entrance, sat down, and began to eat. Ian joined him a few moments later and sat acorss from Eckardy.
I must betray Stalindog!!!

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Psyden
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--Mid February, UC 0079--
--Low Orbit, Luna--

“He’s on my tail!”
“I can’t shake `em!”
“Going in!”
“BAIL OUT! BAIL OUT!”
“BREAK LEFT!”
“Hold on! I’m on his tail!”

The mute dancings of space combat is only broken by the frantic calls of other Saberfish pilots over Celeste’s Com.

Tracers flash by her cockpit as she dips below the attack. The two Gattle on her tail have proved to be more stubborn than she anticipated, and their attack of the leader is getting closer. Thankfully, the old expression that there is only room enough for 1 aircraft on you tail is proven true yet again, which means she’ll only be toasted by the leader if she doesn’t do anything. Not surprisingly, the thought does little to comfort her.

Tracers flash by again, this time closer.

“Enough of this S***!”

Celeste pulls the stick into her chest and the fighter responds obidently by nosing up, and then Celeste cuts the power to the thrusters. Still in a back flip, the leader is forced to overshoot or risk plowing into her craft while his wingman is forced to pull harder to avoid the same, bringing him in line with Celeste’s guns. A short burst from her quad 25’s turn him, his co-pilot, and their Gattle into flaming wreckage, which is lazily pulled into Lunar Orbit. Continuing her turn, Celeste lines up on the retreating tail of the leader and fires another burst, which damages the engines. She takes off after the wounded Gattle for an easy kill.

Below, on the Lunar surface, a large explosion signifies the destruction of another mass driver.

--June, UC 0079--
--Luna II Asteroid Base--

“Lieutenant, Junior Grade Celeste Angelina.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You are familiar with the SP-W03 Mobile Work Pods, are you not?”

“Yes, sir. My father taught me how to fly them at a young age, and I’ve been flying them for my father’s company ever since.”

The admiral merely nods behind his desk.

“Might I ask why you’d want to know, sir?”

Concern is edging into her voice.

“The Zeon’s mobile suits are destroying our Fleets, Lieutenant, and Fighters and Warships just aren’t enough anymore. What we need is a new weapon for a new age, and I would like you, Ms. Angelina, to help us.”

“M-Me?!? But how, sir? I don’t get it. What does my flying pods-”

Celeste pauses upon seeing the look in the admiral’s eyes.

“No… You don’t mean…”

He chuckles a bit at her reaction.

“You catch on quick. We need someone of your still for the evaluation.”



If Love is the answer, could you please rephrase the question?
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Wes turned when he hear someone call out his name. It didn't take him long though to recognize the voice: Eckardy. Even without talking to him much he could recognize the tone, a tone that one isn't to take seriously at times.

Nonetheless, once Curren finished grabbing his food he walked over to where the Team 2 members were sitting. Might as well get used to hanging around them more often.

"Yo," he said, setting down his tray and sitting next to Ian.
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Heyden was overwhelmed with all the new people who had suddenly arrived. A younger kid sat down beside the Team 3 leader(pan didn't know clutes name.), and some douche with a pony tail started introducing himself. Said he was A/E. As this Rem Banner extended his hand, all Heyden could manage was a silent scowl as he ignored him and returned to his burger. He did tho give the newly arrived Jacob Markado a greeting nod.
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His hand dangling akwardly for a moment, Rem took note of these pilots' dour expressions and stand-offish attitudes and stood back up. "Well, nice to meet all of you. If you need anything, I'll be around the mech hangar, tuning your suits. Come find me if you can think of anything." He picked up his lunch tray and dropped it by the trash, his appetite gone. He then headed over to another table, intent on meeting at least most of the pilots on this crew. Someone had just mentioned something about flying tanks... "Hi, Rem Banner, Anaheim Electronics."
Lans
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- Amman –

The wind breezed through Randy Emington’s face and hair. The air of Amman is nothing to be fancied at, while it’s purified and recycled properly people still able to smell the stain of industrial odor in the air. Nevertheless he was grateful. He just liked the way the wind blows and swiped through his self, a feeling that he dear when he’s on duty aboard a vessel.

He wore brown sunglasses, covering his eyes from direct light. Although it’s only artificial lightning, he must admit that he gotten used to see the world in brown rather than its natural color. The same odor assailed him again, the same odor carried by the wind since he get off from the train this morning. He stopped for a moment and looked back, nothing of value to be memorized of this city but he was thinking of something else. His thought going further back, searching and finding his 26 years of life behind.

‘Why am I feeling this way today?
Is it because I’m joining for active duty again? Or is it a fear of death?
No…
It’s not that, at least not today...
Then, is it because of the AEUG?
Ex-EFSF going renegade, is that that bothered you?
Nahh…’


He dismissed his earlier thoughts and starts walking his way to the port area. The train station already miles behind, probably some 2 or 3 miles. For some reason he did walked his way through, although the city electric car service is present. The same thought keeps bothering him, forcing him to resolve.

"It’s not the AEUG. It’s the Titans that mattered…" Randy voiced that freely, just like talking to someone else. Right there he got nothing to worried of, the pedestrian way is empty except for him. "It’s the Titans."

‘They’re the same former EFSF, anti-Zeon just like me…
It’s their concept toward the spacenoids that’s wrong.’


He stopped at this thought and looked around trying to savour the scenery before saying unconsciously, "So wrong that we need to take arms against such tyranny. What a pity."

A moment of self-awareness and then he continued to walk. The dock already near, he saw more people around the area behind the fence wall and guard post. An electric car passed nearby, it’s slowing down and come to a stop. The driver, a female waving her hand and shouted, "do you head for the dock?"

Randy nodded; probably she would give him a ride. Now he’s already cleared his troubled mind, it starting to looks like a good idea, "Yes, I’m going to the dock. Anything I can help with?"

The girl smiling and said, "You should bring you papers then. I forgot to bring mine and I’m already late to go back and get it." This time she grinned, she's younger or probably the same age as Randy.

It’s not the tight security that matters here. Getting through the checkpoint is easy, just get checked, state your business and you’re free to go, but that’s pretty annoying. With the assignment paper or other security clearance a visitor can pass through without any fuss. Randy returned the smile, saying "Luckily for you, I bring them with me." He get into the seat next to the driver.

"Shall we get going then, miss?"

"You know men should introduce themselves first." The girl replied.

She obviously joking, Randy laughed a bit and the vehicle started to accelerate. Soon they’ll be in the building complex, a huge maze that houses various space vessels that docked into the port. Randy searched for a particular vessel, an AEUG Sally Kai by the name of the Hamburg, that particular one will be his new home.

(OOC: just fix some typo. ))
Last edited by Lans on Wed Feb 27, 2008 4:59 am, edited 1 time in total.
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-The Dervish-
-Mess Hall-

Wes arrived a moment later and sat down next to Ian. "Yo" was all he said while the other two pilots continued to attack their food.

Eddie swallowed down the hamburger he'd been chewing. "Ah good." Eddie paused to take a quick pull from a soda can. "We pretty much want to let ya know how things are gonna be, now that they've tossed you in with us..."

Eddie's voice trailed off as another man whom he didn't know, he had a pony tail and an Anaheim jacket came over and sat down. "Hi, Rem Banner, Anaheim Electronics."

Eckardy and Ian exchanged semi-confused glances. Ian simply nodded as he kept eating, while stared at the newcomer with the semi-confused look and a frown. "Hey buddy, ya mind, not to be totally rude, uh, leaving us for a few minutes." He said somewhat casually, "We, uh, we got some organizational crap and s*** like that to discuss that you don't need to be here for. Internal team s***, kay? Kay." Eckardy finished with a pained grin and a thumbs up, before he picked up his burger again and took a bite. Ian merely snorted.
I must betray Stalindog!!!

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