Episode 17 - Star-crossed

The last RPG was "Zeta Gundam: Tales from the Frontlines - The AEUG" which ran from 2006-14.
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ScornMandark
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Rem glanced over the twisted and warped edges of the cockpit frame, the debris in and out of the cockpit itself, and the exhausted look of the pilot. Taking it all in quickly, he shook his head. "Naw, not yet. The doctor," he thumbed over his shoulder to where Dr. M was interviewing Eddie and Cowboy, "is doing the interviews for now. I'm mostly just getting data from the machines. If you need a while to cool off and calm down first, just duck around the doctor. We can come find you later."

He did understand the state pilots came back in; the test pilots came back like this when something went wrong during a field test. They, by and large, usually needed a little while before they could be usefully interviewed.

He was probably going to catch a little flak for it, but these guys looked like they needed about 6 months of R&R before they headed out today. Asides, the Dr. was well intentioned, but he could come off a little...strong, Rem supposed. No sense antagonizing these pilots any more than needed.
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-Ian-

The flight back to the Dervish was routine enough, even though his suit had taken some fairly minor damage. Ian's suit would be ready for another go, arm repaired or not, in short order.

Not that this helped his mood. Greydon had fumed silently in his cockpit about the whole Wes-breaking-off thing. Ian had started playing 'What If..." in his head, which had only made him angrier. Ian barely payed attention to what was going on, only focusing on his flight when he came in to land, teeth clenched.

Things in the Dervish's hangar were chaotic, as usual, it seemed. Eddie and Cowboy's Rick Dias' were both down and being worked on. Mechanics were already attaching a new lower left leg to Eddie's suit, the damaged one being taken off to be cannibalized for spare parts, while other techs moved a new binder to Marvin's suit to replace a missing one. Ian could tell they had seem some action. Fritz's Rick Dias was also down, the cockpit area looking somewhat odd. Ian didn't notice any of the other suits in the hangar, although he did notice a lack of Curren, as he moved his suit into it's berth and the tech teams began their first work on it. Ian quickly exited the cockpit, relayed his report of the damage to one of the mechanics, and quickly floated to a nearby catwalk.

While all this was going on, Dr. Merkwürdigliebe continued to interview Eckardy and Hamilton on various things related to their Rick Dias. "We really need to get more of those beam rifles out here..." Eddie was saying in response to a question on the weapons, when his voice trailed off as he spotted Ian land on the catwalk a short distance away, his body language conveying something as Ian leaned over and watched the events in the hangar. Eddie turned to the Doctor, "Um, excuse us for a bit, but one of my team just got back and I need to go do my own questioning." Eckardy flashed his usual grin at Dr. M, which was still how Eckardy thought of the man, "I suspect you'll want to ask him the same questions, but uh... we've got some piloty stuff to do before that, so we'll finishs this with you later". Dr. Merkwürdigliebe nodded absently as he scribbled things into his notes, mumbling something to the pilots that seemed to say they'd finish this later, as Eddie and Marvin floated over to Ian.

"Where's Wes?", Marvin asked, his voice lacking any emotion.

Ian turned to face his teammates, and ever under his faceplate, it was clear he was unhappy. "I have no f***in' clue", his tone adding to the message his face sent.

Eddie frowned, mainly at Ian's attitude. "What happened?". Ian didn't say anything for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, and then spent the next few minutes relaying what happened during his attack run on the enemy Alexandria...
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- Hamburg Team –
- Near Chuikov –


"We'd better get movin' Al and Jeriden must be worried about us." Bernard's voice ended the communication, the last part about Jeriden leaving Emington rather troubled in mind.

What to worry, he’s dead.

It’s hard to be sad about the death of a person he knew only for a few moments. Still, it’s a terrible loss for him. And a burden to bear, especially for Randy as the CO who holds the team responsibility.

The immediate response from the Chuikov draws his attention from further thoughts about the problem. "Ltjg. Emington, the fleet is now withdrawing from the combat area. I would suggest you and your team return to your ship in case we need to re-launch suits to cover our backs,”.

His lips are a bit dry, exhaustion started to take its toll. Randy hit the line, exclusively to his team. “Bernard, we got the go. Let’s head back to Hamburg. Eyes on the lookout, we don’t want any uninvited guess following us home.” With that he turned away from the Chuikov and fixed his course to the Hamburg’s last position. Gently he started his thrusters steadily until the Nemo reached its cruising speed. If nothing occurred to them on their way, they should reach the Hamburg in a few minutes.
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--Curren--

It took him much effort, but Wes got out of this alive. He didn't know if he should feel lucky or what.

Nonetheless, he returned to the Dervish's vicinity just before his propellant ran out. With a missing leg, it was more difficult to make a good landing, but it wasn't like he hadn't done this before.

Everything else was routine. Curren arrived at the hangar to a hectic atmosphere with techies floating about and working on the damaged machines. He looked around and noticed a few empty spaces, probably for some stragglers.

After moving back to his spot on the hangar, Wes climbed out of his machine and pulled off his helmet. Though it was still recycled, the air on the ship was much more refreshing than the stuff he got while piloting.
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Pan Heyden

Pan gritted his teeth and said nothing, and started to head towards the Dervish. His silence did a much better job at portraying his unhappiness, much better then his usual vulgarity.
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Jacob waited until the two Rick Diases that were the last to disengage were coming at him before turning his own unit around and kicking in the propellant. He was trying to move with them, but didn't time it quite right and they moved past him as he accelerated.

It all worked out in the end, though as he landed just behind Heyden. It took only a quick look around to realize that even in this relatively minor skirmish, the AEUG forces had taken some damage and some losses. It seemed impossible for them to escape a battle unharmed, but, perhaps that was the very nature of war.

His eyes locked on the Rick Dias with the mangled head and his blood ran cold when he realized what such damage likely meant to the fragile pilot inside the suit. His life fluid fairly froze in his veins as he did the math and realized who that pilot must be.

Jacob's suit was barely in its berth when he threw his hatch open and propelled himself out of the cockpit. His helmet was removed and discarded as he clumsily made his way across the bay. His Earthnoid ways came back in his distress and he bounced off the wall next to the exit before stabilizing himself and grabbing a gripper that will take him to sick bay.
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Hamburg: Bridge

Adam's task had become a lot more interesting now the radar was usable again. A quick look up allowed him to cross reference the positions of the visible ships to the returns he was getting on the radar. Ok, he thought, we have the Dervish and New Yark in front, and the Chuikov behind. He saw two smaller blips on a course from the Chuikov on the Hamburg and tracked their progress as the neared. He checked the FOF tags and saw it was Emington and Korbel. He sighed, knowing they where safe.

((OOC: I'm not sure on the above in identifying the pilots. I can edit if it's inaccurate or a problem.))
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Pan landed his dias with little fanfare exciting the suit he bumped a mechanic who was rushing to inspect 'pink lemonade'. Glancing towards the blue Rick Dias he saw the hatch was still shut...

Convenient he thought as he made his way to the ready room. He tore out of his suit and slammed his helmet into his locker slamming the door shut. He turned around and placed his feet on the ground to only quickly pivot and slam his fist into the locker door.

The loud slam was muffled by the commotion in the nearby hangar, but the telltale dent on the door would be enough evidence for someone else to find later.

Pan grasped his hand lit a cigarette and made his way to his quarters.
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