| A Symbol | |||
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| Summary: Now more than ever Earth needs a sign that the fight can be taken to the invaders. It needs to be a symbol to rally behind. This Monday, the EFA goes to the moon to take control of a new symbol of hope: Super Dimensional Fortress Three: Revil | |||
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THE MOON -- SEA OF TRANQUILITY -- APPOLLO SHIPYARDS
The Super Dimensional Fortress 3 despite not being as large as the battle cruiser Excilion, was considered a gargantuan effort of engineering, largely because of the massive amounts of OverTechnology involved in it's construction. It would be the second Macross Class built by humans, though only the first to be completed thanks to Bask Om's treachery with stealing the SDF-2 Odyssey.
The construction yard was deep underground, and in full view of L5, where the Aerogateor's base, the Neviim was floating. Where they could easily see it any normal launch preparations and destroy it utterly before it got a chance to mobilize.
Captain Global had however come up with an idea. 'Normal' launch preparations included a full crew compliment and several hours to bring all system up to full readiness. So the answer was simple: A small assault force would enter the ship yards as quickly as possible through a gigantic air recycling duct, enter the ship and activate the key systems: The Reflex Furnace and Propulsion. Then launch the SDF-3 without even opening the dock doors.
The transports carrying the combined EFA and A-LAWS team pulls away from the air duct. Which carries the team through a winding passage for hours, but eventually they arrive. Their machines emerge from the air shaft after a treacherous floating platform jumping puzzel and deposit them just beyond the boarding ramp for the SDF-3.
The question is if the Balmarians have noticed.
With slow, precise movements, Trowa Barton guides his GN-XIII through the ucts of the base, always careful with his maneuvering to avoid the various traps set up to prevent precisely this sort of infiltration. You know: the platforms suspended over serrated, rotating spikes. The giant smashing pistons that move at regular intervals. That sort of stuff.
And no, for those wondering, he doesn't question the logic of this.
Once out of the duct and into the hanger, Trowa calmly motions to several of the grunts to flank right around the SDF-3, then turns his machine towards the left.
He flinches slightly as he moves though, then reaches down to grip his right side. The wounds from his close brush with the God of Death still haven't fully healed and moving too much tugs at his wounds.
Russel Bagman has been at the battle of the SDF-2, he was one of the three that had disabled it's reflex canon before it could fire. He prayed they could keep from using this one against it's intended purpose. So here he is once more his Gepenst is in formation with the others as they go in. He's keeping alert, as if the Balmarians notice them, it could be a huge problem. But the risk to get another Macross class ship in the field against them was worth it.
The SDF-3 is not initially well-protected. There are, however, a pair of Megillots moing about below. When the GN-XIII sets down nearby, it causes one to turn. Its optics flash red -- and an alarm begins to sound.
There is a shudder in space nearby. A crackle of black and blue light appears and begins expanding, as a particularly large warp-in begins.
Kharul Chatul, one of the rarely seen Balmarians, has a job.
Her job is defense. It has, so far, not come up as often as the flip side of the coin; the Balmarians have been waging an offensive war, and there was no time nor patience for Kharul's slow, patient strategy, aimed more at eroding the Earthlings away than obliterating them in one fatal blow.
That has changed slightly. Though they still believe they are on the attack, now they have been stung by the Earthlings - and that means that she gets listened to. Occasionally.
The Baruch Ben appears near the fringe of the distortion. Kharul is alert and actually eager, her artificial lips set in a cold smile under her mask. She dives, following the alerting Megillot, weapon held at the ready for her first sight of the intruders, who have just gone around a corner from her initial warp-in position.
These, she can deal with personally.
The alarms go off...
One of the soldiers appeared, holding up a custom rifle and starting to turn on various scanning equipment. It appears they have some insects that found their way here. He starts to move, once getting the downlow, aiming to start approaching their uninvited guests.
Azgad Mela'ka foregoes the typical uninvited guest banter for now. That was so freekin' tired and old. Seriously, he would consider shooting anyone that seriously went on with the whole 'fu fu fu, we have uninvited guests' shit.
SPACE
THE FINAL FRONTIER (NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH THE ENDLESS ONE)
These are the voyages of the valiant EFA-LAWS as they struggle against the tides of the oppressive Balmary Empire! Their uphill battle against the invading aliens has been fought with bravery, honor, and heroism; their hearts rise in the right place, courage paving the way to victory! Even now, in this desperate gambit, the Balmarians have arrived to attempt to silence them; to risk the humans gaining even one foothold is to risk their own damnation.
Victory will be earned in blood.
But the EFA is not alone. No, their allies are manifold - some announcing their unity with pride, waving the banner of the EFA in truth if not in name for whatever reason they choose.
And then there are these guys.
"Captain Feinschmecker!" one of the bridge crew of the Kurogane shouts, "We have Balmarians on the moon! We believe they're trying to interfere with an EFA operation - shall we-"
Ratsel doesn't even get the chance to respond. The white-haired man beside him opens his eyes, looking out at the vastness of space, as though he could *see* the aliens gathering so far away. Sanger Zonvolt, the Sword That Cleaves Evil, raises his blade, pointing it at the bridge window.
"KUROGANE! Wherever there is evil, the Knights of Zoldark shall oppose it! Let us strike them down...AND LEND OUR AID TO THE EARTH FEDERATION ONCE AGAIN!"
A resounding cheer echoes through the Kurogane. Sanger looks at his best friend, his bosom companion, his masked ally; he says no more, simply closing his eyes and smiling as he takes off down the corridor.
THE MOON
From somewhere behind Euzeth's machine, it emerges; the prow of the Kurogane, the wide red-yellow-and-black drill, the sweeping curves of the Space Noah-class mobile fortress called Strongest of Zoldark's Army. And atop it, once again, is Sanger Zonvolt - astride it in his mighty Grungust Type-3, with its great turning drills, its beautiful colors, its terrible Zankantou clutched in its hand. Sanger Zonvolt, in the cockpit, smirks.
"BALMARIANS!" He roars, the Colossal Sword hefted above the Grungust's head. "IF YOU THINK YOUR FORCES ARE ENOUGH TO STOP US..."
"THEN COME AND FACE ME LIKE TRUE WARRIORS!"
The Grungust Type-3's eyes light up, a dull roar wordless across the airless void of space. The challenge is sent - but who would accept?!
Other than the EFA and A-LAWS, there are others who were aware of the presence of the gargantuan ship. The DC, dastardly as they are, somehow have gotten intel on the location of the SDF-3 as well. However, without confirmation of its presence, they have sent out a scout to do just that - especially since said vessel was well capable of flying covert-op missions and at high velocities. Using blow-up asteroids to hide its presence, the Amenthes has arrived to the moon a few hours ago and was using the blow-up asteroid as a rock-cover now - slowly floating towards the base in question.
The intel had spoken of a major lack of activity around the moon base in question. Of course, with this being the far side of the moon - who knew how accurate this was to begin with. But still, that did not take away the confusion and surprise of the Divine Crusader scout, Ascian Luddite, as his radar indicated units. He had come to a halt a few miles away - hiding under that 'rock' of his, and patiently began to observe the incoming EFA and A-LAWS troops. Intel had not spoken of that airduct he was observing them entering.
Only when everything is clear, does he dare to tap into his Orbital Frame's levitation and begins to flow forwards - the inflated fake asteroid rolling right around his unit as he moves. It is only when he reaches the actual airduct, and having checked radar one more time, that he pierces the 'bubble'. Being on the far side of the moon means he cannot properly send any kind of communication to earth... so he realizes he is on his own. Ascian's hands show a few pearls of sweat - much like those on his forehead. "Ascian Luddite, going in." He whispers to Duat - his unit's A.I.
With only a little bit of lift, he carefully floats into the airduct and makes his way through the thing - until he finds himself at the end of it. There, he remains stationairy - out of sight, and tries to dim the luminescent lines on his Orbital Frame as much as possible. Its head opens for a moment - a red sensor pulsing as it detects high energy readings: the incoming Balmarians. The framerunner swears under his breath and sends his unit a bit further back into the airduct, pressing up against the wall, in to remain out of detection range. Or so he hopes. Shame he didn't bring any inflatable 'wreckage'... only asteroids and rocks.
Of course, when the entire complex starts shaking due to a gigantic battleship drilling into the hangar that holds the SDF-3, Ascian's radar goes berserk for a moment, as his unit tries to discern enemy from falling rocks. "What the...?" His unit quickly grants him a visual through the airduct, displaying what Ascian conciders a madman, on top of that gigantic ship with... a drill on it. "I go through all this trouble to be sneaky... and then /this/ happens. You have got to be kidding me." But he remains hidden.
And just like that, battle had been joined. Normally, he would sit back, allowing Sanger to ravage the battlefield and return home with evil freshly cleaved. Ordinarily, he would direct his crew to brave the flames of war and walls of steel and beam weaponry on the foe, just so that Sanger could get that last, fatal cut into the heart of the vile, the wicked or the unjust.
Not today.
The Huckebein launches shortly after the Grungust, its frame obscured by the much larger machine's greater bulk. He had given a hasty order for the Kurogane to retreat into the moon's surface until the time had come to depart. For, Ratsel had spied a particular foe amongst the Balmarians- one who he feels that he must deal with himself.
The Mark Trombe rushes out of the shadow of the greater machine, its pilot's expression dour and unreadable- a subtle change from smirking and unreadable, but a change none the less. The crew of the Kurogane know what such a shift entails, and could only nod in grim recognition when the captain left the bridge.
It is the face he wears when he must kill a friend and comrade.
It is the face he wore not last week, in the heart of the Moon Cradle.
"Sanger," he says, "Comrade. Let me deal with our old friend. Take care of what you must!" The Mark Trombe unslings one of its many cannons from its holsters. Its thrusters open with a sudden flash of pale, blue light, stirring the bone-dry soil of the moon's surface. It moves, almost faster than the eye can see, unleashing a torrent of beam fire on a distant target.
He knows it is unlikely to hit. But it is not in his manner to needlessly obscure his presence.
The teleportation disturbance expands and balloons outward, with a crackle of blue light.
The Antenora appears -- and it should not. After all, much of it had been destroyed. Katharon had even gathered some of the remains of the machine. And yet, the black, serpentine Mobile Armor appears, hunched over and perfect, whole once again. The machine turns at the cries of Sanger Zonvolt. Inside of the cockpit, Euzeth Gozzo leans forward. Behind his mask, his eyes narrow.
"You think you are so powerful?"
The thing pulls a large cylinder from a recharge unit in its shoulders -- and the burning blue fire of its photon sword erupts to life. The huge sword swings down, hacking at Sanger's machine. "Come, Sample," he says. "Show me the power of this Sword That Cleaves Evil."
When the Aerogator forces begin their warp in, two more EFA units drop out of the air shft. RGM-79N GM II Customs. One is orange and black and the other is slate gray on black. The GMs both have the same emblem on them. A snarling rotweiler head, the symbol for the EFA Special Forces, Mad Dogs Squadron.
The orange GM grasps a pair of knives attached to it's upper forearms and leaps in at a Megiliot, slicing the drone's head clean off. The slate gray colored machine however takes a slower view of the battlefield and acquires it's target. It lowers the specialized gunnery visor over it's mono eye and takes aim with the large Beam Rifle, the weapon's barrel glows briefly before a crack of thunder echos through the shipyard as a beam of mega particles tries to melt through Kharul's unit.
"Mad Dogs on site."
Azgad's movement was interupted by TROME OVERRIDE.
He looks up, only to see the giant beam of energy fired at him. It was an incredible shot, and only the distance and his own reflexes saved him from being scrapped. However, the beam glanced across the crystal that created his unit, causing a gash along the right arm. However, he recognized the style...
"You again. From the Moon Cradle." he says, calmly. "Your interference last time cost the life of several men. Including a good commander, and nearly another..." the beam cannon came up.
"I failed in my mission last time, but not again. This battle will be the beginning of a tragedy for you!" he shots out, and brings his rifle up...
While Elzam was not as accurate in super long range, Azgad was a sniper at heart.
Trowa flinches, his momentary weakness costing the infiltration team their advantage of surprise. Of course, when surprise fails, there is always the one thing that Trowa excells at.
Violence.
The alerting Megillot suddenly sprouts a hole from head to ass as a GN Beam Rifle shot pierces straight through it. A moment later, the GN-XIII comes blitzing around the corner right in front of Kharul, backlight by the exploding drone. Trowa wastes no time in attempting to do the same thing to the Barech Ben.
The long-ranged beam weapon slams into the Huckebein's gravity territory, and then again into its black armor, leaving a large, smoldering hole where a shoulderplate used to be. But it was not for lack of trying to evade it. His opponent is as he remembers- effective in combat, cool headed, but even so, suceptible to strikes once his advantage had been taken from him.
And so, the Trombe charges right into the optical rifle. It launches a discus from its arm, raking the weapon across the alien machine's torso. It closes, entering a region that no sniper would ever want to be caught fighting in. "Ringo," Ratsel murmurs, "No matter what. It is I who will be the one to end you, or to pull you from whatever morass you have allowed yourself to fall into!"
The machine raises its rifle once more, and unleashes another blast of high-density beam particles, "This I swear, old friend!"
"I approve of your courage, Balmarian!" Sanger cries, the Colossal Blade whipping around to meet Euzeth's laser sword. The liquid-metal sword of legend slams against the photon blade; sparks erupt where they meet, as if the wills of the twin warriors were personified in these blows. Inside the cockpit, Sanger's arms push against the joysticks; though the Grungust was the larger machine, Euzeth's was backed by the force of Balmar itself, and a fighting spirit that was not to be ignored.
"But you've made one crucial mistake!" The Zankantou slides to the side, revealing the Grungust's arm that had up until a minute ago been bracing the blade against Euzeth's assault.
Now, however, it has a drill on it.
Ffffffffff-
"DRILL BOOOOST KNUUUUUCKKKKLLLLE!" Sanger roars, the fist snapping backwards, then forwards; the drill whirrs as it punches past the Colossal Blade, taking advantage of Sanger's trick surprise for all it's worth. Even as the Drill Boost Knuckle soars around to rejoin its arm, the other arm is hard at work; the massive sword swings around, threatening the smaller unit with its sheer size and weight. A weapon bigger than the Grungust itself - how will Euzeth respond to the challenge of this impossible man?
That name again...it causes a headache...
The speed of his opponet was just insane. The unit faster than his own...by a considerable margin. Azgad was outmatched...but he didn't...he couldn't retreat! His eyes narrowed, pulling out a secondary rifle. He pulled a second weapon with his free hand, throwing the grenade towards Ratsel...
The second shot moved around, firing a single shot from the rifle, aiming right behind the thrown weapon...the flash bang exploded, while the second shot aimed in, trying to piece the armor and take a chunk of the unit.
"My name is Azgad, not whatever person you have deluded yourself into believing I am."
Kharul Chatul does not recognize the Mad Dogs squadron.
Her eyes narrow anyway. Whether she's seen that particular one before, she knows their type; elites, special operations, almost certainly aggressive, certainly willing to kill her to keep her from stopping them -
Kharul banks to the side, swerving dangerously close to a wall. The mega particle beam clips the side of the Beruch Ben, causing a furrow to glow red-hot, though not entirely melt. Her unit is apparently much tougher than it looks.
She accelerates towards the Mad Dogs just as Trowa pops up right in front of her. On sheer reflex she swerves, launching one of the ends of her bizarre weapon toward him but doing nothing but scraping up a ceiling. She recognizes that unit quite well, though. "You..."
Rather than abort her initial rush at the lead Mad Dog, Kharul completes it. She raises the butt end of her staff-like weapon, the wheel blade spinning, its segments fanning out into a buzzsaw that she tries to carve through one of the legs of the front Mad Dog with.
Russel Bagman is moving on as others engage the arriving balmarians? Russel's machine looks like nothing special, it's just another gespenst. It does have a custom paint job but that's not too uncommon right? It stops looks up at the other machine, it's huge and terrible. He is ignored, it gives him an open shot, he also starts feeding targeting data to sanger. Sanger would finds it's Russel of all people, somehow he's there and got Sanger's back. He's also opening fire with his trusty M95.
Even though earlier on, he had decided to hide, Ascian realizes that he cannot just sit there, away from combat. The aliens were sure to get the drop on him if he was going to sit there - between two walls, a ceiling and a floor. The darkblue haired scout sends a flow of red through his unit as it lights up more brightly and begins to boot up all the combat systems he had disabled to remain undetected. One by one they spring up on vidwindows, as well as an inventory of his Vector Trap. Everything was in the greens.
"Call me crazy. But if the aliens are involved... I am sure command won't mind me giving a helping hand to the EFA. There is no way we can get a hold of this ship when they are here anyhow." Even just saying this made himself twitch. "Your biosigns indicate that you are lying." - Duat, his A.I. claims. "Orders are orders." The Divine Crusader grits his teeth as he gives that reply.
The Orbital Frame comes to life in the form of a red glow springing across its entire body and its reverse-blade shaped wings spread out. "Let's do this Amenthes. For BAHRAM!" The verniers break out their crystals - but do not engage. Instead, the frame glides forwards as one of its arms shifts and transforms into the shape of what can only be described as a rifle. An aiming reticle helps Ascian guide his attack as he begins to aim at what he conciders the best target. Euzeth, already under assault, becomes a prime target - and soon finds a red blast of energy coming their way.
"No," Ratsel says, narrowing his eyes. The Huckebein winds around, slipping around the explosive assault. The light flashed through his cockpit and deflects RIGHT off those magnificent shades. There is a reason why he wears them, after all.
No, it's not because he's got something to hide. Why would that be?
"You may have forgotten, but beneath all that /programming/, I know who you are, /RINGO./ You were a fine soldier! A confidant! To see you reduced to such a diminished state hurts me more than any weapon!" The Huckebein's arm snaps back, pulling the beam-coated disk back around to slice the enemy machine's arms clean off. "I will either force you to remember, or kill you, but either is better than /THIS!/"
<Radio> Tightbeam to the non-aliens: Ascian Luddite says, "Ascian Luddite - Divine Crusaders - assisting."
The GN-powered machine slides in sheer defiance of the laws of physics as the whirling bladed wheel lashes out, slamming into the wall behind Trowa before retreating. That's one of the nice perks about the Jinx series of mobile suits.
They're, well, mobile.
Trowa grits his teeth as he hurtles himself backways, flipping upside down as he does so. He opens up with his GN Head Vulcans, blasting away at the Baruch Ben as he seeks to gain the element of range. He remembers how nasty that thing is with it's wheeled melee weapon.
The side of the Antenora explodes into sparks, as the drill cuts into the armor on it and tears past. Plates of armor fly down and slam into the floor, as the colossal blade comes in. It strikes into the machine on the left side. A gigantic gash is left in the armor, but it does not quite bite through. Inside the cockpit, Euzeth's eyes narrow.
The huge machine takes the shot from the Orbital Frame and Gespenst. The M95 leaes the back battered and scarred, pockmarks carved into the armor. The beam rifle shot from Ascian strikes the armor, but never quite burns through.
The shoulders on the Antenora slide open -- revealing figure-eight shaped arrangements of missile tubes. The missiles launch and curl bakward over the shoulders, shoving the Antenora back for a moment. The missiles whip out, and swing off towards the Gespenst and the Orbital Frame. The tail of the Antenora whips out, a second later, and strikes at the side of the Grungust Type-3.
The caster found it's mark, attaching to his armor and exploding. One of his arms gone... Ringo looking at the damage nearly laughed... it was like some parody...
"You will not kill me." he says suddenly and determined... he turns his eyes towards Ratsel...
"I am going to live... and save my people." He says, growling.
He is desperate... he is out classed... he can't get a beat on him, but he can't read his attacks at all. The speed was just outrageous...
He comes in, the Laser rifle firing again, aiming a single powerful shot right towards the core of his enemy.
"Accept your fate...BALMARIAN!" The Colossal Blade swings down into the path of the Tail Swipe as the Drill Boost Knuckle sweeps around for a second blow from behind before rejoining with the massive Grungust's stump. Sanger's eyes are locked on the screen; all of his warrior's spirit is poured into this fight. The Balmarians came to challenge the defenders of the Earth; they came to steal away the loved ones of the innocent, those they feel can be 'useful' to them without thought or care for the emotions of those people they hurt. Sanger's rage is brought to bear against this foe; he has no forgiveness for their kind.
"With this Grungust, I'll punish you for your actions against the Earthsphere! With that Super Dimensional Fortress, Earth will fight back, stronger than ever! Your cowardly ambushes mean nothing....IN THE FACE OF TRUE COURAGE!"
Sanger's Colossal Sword hovers for a moment as the drills of the Grungust begin to spin. They slam forward onto the massive fists as Sanger's will is brought to bear. The Grungust's arms swing backwards as the drills begins to rage; Sanger punches forward, slamming both the joysticks as hard as he can.
"DOUBLE DRILLL BOOOOOST KNUUUUUUUUCKLLLEEEEE!"
The fires of the Boost Knuckles explode forward, the great drills spinning towards Euzeth's machine. Anetora is not invincible, though the Balmarians present themselves as such - with a united front, they could be beaten back! And Sanger intended to give the EFA the chance to do so!
The Wheel Saw is sent spinning through the air for the slat gray GM II, also known as Unit 3. The orange GM leaps in with it's heat knife, attempting to get right in Kharul's face with the weapon to no success, but it does interfere with her aim slightly. The gray GM shifts it's weight backwards, but it is the slower of the two Mad Dogs, the buzzsaw like weapon bites into it's waist armor and chews out a good two feet of material and out the other side, leaving it off balance.
But the orange Mad Dog is still right there. It reaches up with it's free hand and grasps it's standard issue beam saber in a reverse grip, igniting it into the trademark pinky-purple beam blade as it swings the contained plasma blade directly down at the Baruch Ben.
Meanwhile the gray GM, unit 3 has recovered it's balance and starts using it's shield to cover the gaping hole int it's arm as it starts to make ground for the SDF-3's loading ramp. It just has to get inside and get to engineering...
"Your people," Ratsel growls, "The ones you have given your life day after day after day after /day/ in the past!" Trombe rushes forth, and slides gallantly to the side of the column of energy. Its own cannon drawn, the black and red machine unleashes its own, harrowing assault. "The people who you're now working to conquer and enslave!"
"Remember, comrade!" Trombe slips to the alien machine's blind-spot, firing continuously with its Photon Rifle, "Remember the Crusade! All those nights you spent, working as my hand in the shadows, strangling injustice and serving that path that we all followed. Remember that banner we fought for. Remember- that all that you have worked for, all that /WE/ have worked for- it has all been to defeat the very force you NOW SERVE."
"No detectable damage done by strike." Duat confirms the hit. "No matter. Prepare for a second str~" - "WARNING: Incoming missiles!" The verniers burn brightly when Ascian tries to dart away from the attack and locks in on a path right between them all. And whilst he manages to dodge each and every of the missiles themselves - as they crush into the airduct behind him, the kinetic force is severe enough to crush part of his unit's leg. "Damage de~" - "I know!"
Now that he was in the 'air', beneath those ginormous hangar doors, he could get a better view of the battle that was occuring beneath him. A series of vid-windows show up within the cockpit, allowing for him to get a visual on all the units present. Earlier, he'd sent a signal out to the non-aliens, to ensure that they would not assault him. After all, normally, he would be their sworn enemy. And they his.
A few moments, he believed he had a clear shot at some of the A-LAWS units present. And it took quite a bit of his mental strength not to press the trigger in order to fire at them. Instead, his attention turns back to the target he had assaulted earlier. The one who had harmed the Amenthes. But there was something else helping him in this decision. In a ways, it would appear that Sanger's entheusiasm was slowly starting to get to Ascian. "Let's hope this doesn't hit our big-drill buddy there." There was no IFF reading that indicated that guy was EFA, so he could not think of a single reason not to assist the man more closely.
He brings his unit close into combat... very much closer into combat. Hoping that Euzeth is too occupied to realize he is present - the BAHRAM runner uses his unit's high velocity movement to try and get /behind/ the Antenora - and opens the Amenthes' left hand up - sparks appearing in between. "Let's try holding him down for our big-drilled friend over there." He utters to his A.I. and goes in for the disabling and magna-electro grab!
He was breathing heavier...there was something weighing him on. It was something deep within him... but then another newtype flash, and both of him were trying to survive. Those words... his brow furrowed... sweat beading down his mask.
"Shut....shut up!" He says, getting annoyed. The beam narrowly avoided by a quick movement, as he flips back, pulling his own laser rifle down and firing another shot towards the fast Trombe unit.
"I am getting sick of you samples! To think I ever took pitty?! I nearly regreted my actions in Europe! No longer! You are trying to take advantage of my psyhic power...I was warned against your kind." He says, and another shot is fired, with the first...again, shots that are low weild, but finding themselves in unfortinate places.
Kharul Chatul recovers from her wide swing surprisingly quickly; she's a very good pilot, and the neural wiring lets her make her machine react in almost living movements. Thrusters fire as she backs perhaps two feet as the heat knife whistles in and past her face, so close her eyes hurt from looking into it.
Both of the shoulder cannons on the Baruch Ben flip downward. One of them fires shimmering rainbow-coloured bolts at both the GM directly in front of her and the one pulling back, just out of reach; the other, as Kharul turns her Baruch slightly, angles at the 'head' of Trowa's GN-XIII. As it passes through the GN vulcans, they vanish in flashes of light, though this doesn't help her actually get a good hit in.
She sees the one getting away and she has to stop it. Kharul simply attemps to shoulder through the orange GM, flying with the aid of back- and leg-mounted thrusters after the grey one; she spins in midair as she goes, firing a trio of thin pink beams from the short-barreled gun concealed in the middle of her staff-like weapon at Trowa, to dissuade him from following her too closely. She's still followable - you just might want to watch yourself while you do it!
"That may have been the case, if I /were psychic!/" Ratsel grunts. "And even if I weren't, even if your psychic abilities are being influenced by my thoughts, then what have you seen in them?" Trombe weaves left, then right again, disappearing into a cloud of lunar dust as it evades the Zechariah's shots. "Tell me, if my empathic abilities are so dull, I would not be able to disguise the truth of my thoughts to a true empath! Tell me, Ringo- You see it, burning in my mind. You see that what I am saying is the absolute truth!"
Another weapon slips into the Huckebein's hands. Even through the lunar debris, the black machine is capable of detecting the enemy unit's movements. "Tell me, Ringo! If I am lying, then why do my words disturb you so? If my words are false, then they should wash away from you like rain on steel!"
"Accept it! It is this life you lead NOW that is the illusion!"
Trowa tries to never follow too closely. He's a ranged combatant after all. he operates best when there is space between him and his foe.
From the left arm of the GN-XIII, a rod deploys and begins to spin around, spraying out GN Particles as it does so to form a shield of concentrated particles. The blast from the buster rifle splashes against this energy shield harmlessly as the GN-XIII sweeps around, firing off another shot from it's rifle.
"Hmm... it's trying to get into the SDF... guess I have no choice..."
Quickly holstering his rifle, Trowa reaches down to his hip, where a slot opens up and a cylinder ejects. Drawing forth the handle, Trowa ignites his beam saber, then launches himself towards the Baruch Ben, using his incrediably mobility to slide up in front of it and slash vertically upwards, before following that cut with a sweeping horizontal slash.
The orange GM is tossed aside like an unwanted pest as Kharul goes for the prize that is also going for the prize. Grey sniper GM II is alerted by it's partner and turns to face the pursuing Balmarian machine.
The gray GM turns on the boarding ramp and drops to one knee as it slams it's shield down on the metal ram with a CLANG. Stabilizer feet deploy from the bottom of the shield, adhering to the surface of the ramp. The long range rifle is then braced against the top of the shield and attaches, the shield having turned into an effective bipod. The sniper visor drops down over the regular monoeye and zooms in on the Baruch Ben.
A purple streak of light streaks across the shipyards for Kharul's machine, plowing into the ground behind her like a pile driver, tearing through concrete and metal and leaving it molten in it's wake.
Russel Bagman isn't fast enough to evade the incommng fire but he takes the attack a lot better than one might expect. He watches the Antenora or a moment, and thinks it's time to change weapons. He pulls the other weapon he's brought with him, that being the Mega Beam Rifle, it charges up and russel opens fire, while trying to go on the evasive as much as she's able to. How did he end up facing likely one of the alien commanders? Must be the Universe being unhappy with him clearly.
"Grrr..." Azgad grits out, it was pissing him off.
This sample was now making a fool of him. He ignored his headache... his urge to stop... he had to take this man down. He was his enemy... the sweat was because this was an intense fight, not because this man was getting through to him! He was a Balmarian! The Optical rifle came up again, focusing everything into the shot..
A single blast fires out, aiming once more to try and shoot the Trombe unit right through the lower legs, trying to take out his rapid mobility and try to even things up. "Be SILENT!"
"True courage alone will not save you, sample," Euzeth rumbles.
The G-Territory explodes to life in front of the Antenora, and the drills slam into the gravity shield. Sparks and flame explode where the weapons dig into the wall of solid gravitational force, before it forces them along the side. "Your courage will fail you, as will your armies. You seek to overpower us, and yet you mistake one thing."
He scowls, underneath the mask. "You are too weak to have the courage you profess. You mistake your childish cries for mercy for statements of strength, a pitiful instinct for survival for sentience. You are nothing before us."
The sparks from the Amenthes slams into the wall of black gravity, electricity exploding away from it. The beam rifle shot spreads over the barrier, diffusing rapidly. The machine whips its tail backward -- trying to swat Russel's Gespenst away. The photon blade then whips down, slashing at the Grungust Type-3 from above, and then carving hard to the side.
Kharul Chatul's reactions are incredible. There is no difference to her between moving her own limbs and moving the machine's; the Baruch Ben starts to turn as soon as Trowa starts to set off alarms on her sensors, and swings its staff out at the same time he swings his beam sword.
The two weapons clash; Kharul's heavy weapon sends out showers sparks as the coated buzzsaw spins, unable to cut the GN beam sword (of course; it's not solid) but withstanding the blow without melting or being severed. "Hn," Kharul says, and Trowa would know that voice from the last time they fought. Without the Heavyarms, /she/ doesn't recognize /him/, though. "A good distraction, I suppose, but no more."
Disengaging, she turns back toward the sniper. His weapon is set up, ready to fire; she sees that all in an instant and does the only thing she can think of.
Kharul throws her robot flat. The speed is such that the squeel of the front plates on the Baruch Ben against the floor is incredible, but she doesn't lose much speed; the thrusters keep blazing, lifting her up off from contact but keeping her in that head-forward positions. The upward-pointing beam cannons track the planted shield before firing just above it, the Katef Cannon quad shot (hopefully) clearing the resistance before the Baruch Ben literally slams into that shield with all the speed she can muster to knock it aside.
Unfortunately, when fighting a steel horse, the legs are a good place to start. Fortunately, Ratsel knows of this and is more than able to evade such an attack. If he wasn't, he would not be worthy of riding Trombe. "I /refuse!" Ratsel roars, trading the boosted rifle for an altogether more intimidating weapon.
Again, the alien machine is lined up in his sights. Again, he squeezes the trigger, "Is that all you have for me, Ringo? An order to quiet myself!? My words only sting because you know that, deep down, they are the truth! It may not be here, it may not be now, but one day, you will either return to us, or I will have stamped this foul memory of the man you used to be into the dust!"
Leaving himself open was a foolish mistake. The Grungust's drill arms swing back around, deflected by the gravitational force; they make a mild pass at the enemy machine before returning, but by then, it's too late. Euzeth has already brought his blade down into the Grungust's chest; it sparks and flickers, and warning lights go off in the cockpit as the VG Armor of the Type-3 and the photon blade of the alien leader are brought together in a catastrophic meeting.
In the cockpit, Sanger Zonvolt's head falls forward. Shadow covers his eyes as he listens to Euzeth speak of how mighty the Balmarians are; of Courage not being enough, of the weakness of Man, of the superiority of Ze Balmary Empire. He listens...and the fire in his heart erupts into an infero. And at the end of it, the Grungust's hand reaches forward; it punches itself in the side, where the blade left its dent, smoothing out the VG Armor in a makeshift fix.
"Too weak...? Courage, not enough to save us?" Sanger's voice trembles - but it is not with fear.
It is with fury.
"TOO WEAK TO FIGHT BACK?! COURAGE, NOT ENOUGH?! THE BALMARY EMPIRE, SO MIGHTY AND UNSTOPPABLE?! I HAVE AN IDEA, BALMARIAN!"
"WHY DON'T YOU SHUT UP!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAND LIIIIISTEEEEEEEEEEN!"
The Grungust Type-3 whips its hand around, grabbing the floating Zankantou. It swings the blade forward, pointing it at Euzeth's machine. "YOU THINK THE HUMAN RACE TOO WEAK? YOU THINK US UNABLE TO FIGHT ON PAR WITH YOUR MIGHTY EMPIRE? THEN LISTEN! LISTEN TO THEIR BRAVERY - THEIR FIGHT TO SURVIVE AT ANY COST, THOSE SOLDIERS WHO WORK EVEN NOW TO BATTLE YOU!"
Trowa! Ratsel! Ascian! "ALL AROUND YOU, THEIR COURAGE BURNS LIKE A LANTERN IN THE DARKNESS YOU HAVE BUILT! AGAINST YOU, THEIR HANDS RISE, AND THEY HAVE FOUND WEAK POINT AFTER WEAK POINT! YOUR DIRTY TRICKS, YOUR COWARDLY ACTIONS - DEFEATED ONE BY ONE! YOUR SHIELD HAS FALLEN! YOUR SPIES HAVE FLED! MANKIND STANDS STRONG, BECAUSE OF TWO THINGS!"
"HARD WORK!"
"AND COURAGE!"
The Mad Dogs! Russel! "AND THEIR PRAYERS SHALL BE ANSWERED, BALMARIAN! THEIR FAITH...WILL NOW BE REWARDED!"
The Zankantou rises above the head of the Type-3; its eyes blaze with yellow light, shining brightly in the room. "IT WILL BE REWARDED WITH THIS BLADE! SO THINK ON MY WORDS, BALMARIAN, AND REMEMBER WELL THIS NAME!"
The Zankantou gleams in the dim light; the blade of hope personified, it is turned on its side by the Type-3's immense hands. It is easily the size of Euzeth's mech; the size of the Grungust itself. It dwarfs all things in its might.
"FOR I AM SANGER!"
The Grungust Type-3's drills begin to burn as it plows towards the Balmarian leader's machine. The blade swings behind it, the full momentum of the charge ready to be unleashed at a single motion!
"SANGER ZONVOLT!"
"THE SWORD THAT CLEAVES EVIL!"
The sword is brought down with all of the grungust's might; the jaws of the machine, normally stationary, open in a roar that matches its pilot in raw bravery as Sanger Zonvolt cries out his famous kiai!
"CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"I will...not die...I will not be forgotten!" Azgad shouts, his powers had come out finally... awakening. His eyes percieving the future at the same time as the present... and while Azgad was there one moment...
He narrowly avoids it, the power of the weapon causing Azgad to have to counter it's force with thrust from his Zechariah. He dashes forward, using the momentum to try and get a clean shot...and firing a single burst from the optical rifle.
"Haman Karn could not kill me, nor will you!" Wait what?
The gray GM's pilot knows the shot went wide without even seeing it. After years and years of sniping you just get a feeling for knowing when you shot missed, a reaction in your gut. The gray GM's pilot listens to that reaction and pushes off the back of the shield as hard as they can, sending the GM sprawling backwards, just as the Katef Cannon blasts directly over the shield, through the space the sniper had occupied moments before.
But the sniper isn't Kharul's only problem. The orange GM maybe the least heavily armed of the two, but it is the fastest, and it proves this by running right up behind the Baruch Ben, both heat knives raised up in it's hands, only to come crashing down at the back of the Balmarian machine. The orange pilot doesn't stop there though. Releasing the heat knives from where they are probably stuck in Kharul's back, the orange GM grasps a pair of mobile suit sized handguns and begins firing them at the Aerogator as fast as the weapons will cycle rounds.
The gray GM doesn't just laze around on it's back either. It gets back up to both feet and grasps the beam pistol attached to the outside of it's leg. Less accurate, but still accurate enough with it's long barrel, and it fires a as fast as the pilot can pull the trigger for thirty seconds before it's forced to cool down.
Thats quite a lot.
Russel Bagman returns the rifles to their stroage wracks, there's a good reason for this however. He will not back down, how many have died? How many have been taken and twisted? Too many, and this is one of the fleets command officers. The odds of them being a captured human are low. He'll not hold back. The plasma stakes on the Gespenst's arm start to glow as Russel charges them up. He feeds some data to Ratsel. He watches as Sanger makes his assault upon the alien commander.
"Alright plasma stakes set."
He moves, waiting till Sanger has finished his swing and then the Gespenst launches it's attack on Gozzo.
"You have taken my comrades, my friends, butchered innocents."
The human machine moves in the stakes ready and he leaps for the other machine.
"JET MAGNUM!" He'll punch with it over and over again, showing no sign of letting up against the Balmarian commander.
It's just a gespenst it's pilot's not even on the worthwhile sample list yet he's throwing himself full bore at Balmarian.
This time, the shot rings true. But it doesn't cause Ratsel to flinch. Instead, he simply chuckles. His fight today has been on two fronts, and it seems like he's finally made headway on one of those. "So, it seems that you really are still in there, after all," Ratsel's smirk returns. "Ringo. Whether I will kill you or not remains to be seen, but..."
The Mark Two pulls the Boosted Rifle up once more. This time, aiming for three locations- the head, the leg, the remaining arm. He would cripple this machine, "/But mark my words!/ I know you are in there, and I will /NOT/ allow you to be forgotten! Our crew, our comrades have never once let your memory slip from their minds! And you will be returned to us, dead or alive, as the hero we know you to be!"
Azgad just said something in the heat of battle...
He isn't sure what he just said, it caused him to pause for a moment...he was obviously...getting worked up. That was it...he was saying things without thinking...he was stressed out...
Then the attack came, He saw it...because he saw it, he could avoid it. The shot washed near him, destroying the ground he stood on...but he shot forward.
"Not yet...NOT YET! I AM STILL ALIVE!" he booms, his voice taking on...that other quality. His Optical rifle aiming down...firing a single shot, a single perfect shot...
Ratsel's core was the target.
Whoever picked a lance for a melee weapon didn't have a horrible idea. Their use as a gun, however, is really poor.
Trowa manages to tear up some more of the floor and ramp as Kharul rockets above it, though he doesn't manage a solid hit on the Baruch Ben. She pulls up at the last instant before slamming into the shield -
Just as knives drive into the Baruch's back. Through her neural link, Kharul feels them as pricks in her shoulderblades; not painful, as it doesn't transfer pain, but strange and unpleasant. Her two 'normal' arms twitch in response, as if shrugging away an itch.
She spins, the knives still embedded in the machine's back, just as he lets loose with the handguns. This leaves her side open for the beam pistol blasts to drive into the side and rear of the Baruch Ben.
"Gah - " Kharul's voice comes on, audible to the Mad Dogs. "Why won't you just leave? This isn't yours, and it never will be!" Even as she's still under attack, the Baruch Ben lumbers forward, walking instead of flying; it brings its weapon down in an overhead chop at the orange Mad Dog, the buzzsaw shredding. Taking advantage of the proximity, Kharul follows it up with a series of shots from the short-barreled rifle, attempting to literally blast the smaller GM away. And into pieces, if possible.
Again a failure! Duat doesn't even bother to report the effects of the grabbing attack. "You have got to be kidding me." The young man mutters as he is practically thrown back by the force of his own attack. No damage showed on Amenthes, but he certainly had wasted a good bit of energy. If it wasn't for the fact that he needed to keep both of his hands on the controls, he'd likely have smashed his fists on them in anger.
"So nothing but sheer force will work." After all, if that was working for Sanger. The red glow of his verniers send his unit back and up - out of the way of the Grungust. Suddenly his unit begins to pull up a file, as it has finally cross-referenced the unit. "From before my time huh?" Ascian doesn't waste time to read it - and instead concentrates on what is going on before him whilst Amenthes feeds him the little information he could use.
"HEY ZONVOLT!" He calls out through the radio this time, "Guess the aliens came after all eh?" He laughs in an amused manner. Unlike most of those who had been fighting - and he had fought along-side of - he had not lost anyone to the Balmarians. There was no way he could get as spirited about these battles as them. In a way, he was a simple soldier. Too simple of a soldier, following orders. But there was something he did hold to heart. As much as he hated the EFA - he hated those who oppressed others even more.
"Hey alien scum!" He calls out to Euzeth. Yes, Sanger's entheusiasm had gotten to him. How he wished the Vector Cannon was unlocked on this thing. But instead... "I may not have a giant sword to cleave you with like him. But..." Amenthes' second arm quickly begins to shift into the form of a rifle as well - and is brought together with the first. Its wings suddenly disassembles into a dozen of little bit-like satelite units, forming a red glow at their tips.
The two rifles pressed together begin to reform again, creating a single large chamber at the front. "Compressing Space..." Duat warns. Mentally, Ascian presses the trigger. A series of red lasers dart in broken lines along the side of the large rifle straight for the Antenora. "TAKE THIS!" The rifle suddenly lets a stream of light-diffusing energy roar from its front - guided by the red lasers along its sides - compressing space and making for a devastating attack... it Ascian could manage to hit with it.
The Colossal Blade strikes down into the gravity barrier. Lightning explodes across the length of the sword, and the gravitational field around it sags for a moment. Then, it shatters. The barrier of black energy crumples under the weight of the blade, and the massive sword comes slashing downward.
The hand of the Antenora thrusts upward, and the palm of it catches the huge sword. The armored palm gets a gash torn into, as the full force of the weapon rolls down through the frame and armor.
The armor explodes off the Antenora's arm as the joints compress and skeletal framework compresses. The palm, however, holds -- and the machine is battered, its limb shattered, but it is not cleaved.
"No."
The chest plates on the front of the machine split open, revealing the cannon nozzle inside. A flicker of gold light shoots across the front of it, before a lance of golden flame erupts from it. The Antenora turns, and brings the beam ripping upward. It shreds the nearby hangar wall, as the beam comes barreling down for Russel's Gespenst. The machine flies in -- and the plasma stakes ram into the chest plates.
The explosion is immense, blasting armor plates back off it and into the air. Flame and smoke wafts up from where it struck. The rifle shot sends a beam clean through the Antenora. The explosion rips out the front and back of ther chest, the fireball erupting in two blossoms of flame.
The shoulder opens, and looses a swarm of missiles upward, for Ascian.
Trowa frowns ever so slightly as the Balmarian machine continues to evade his every strike so far. It doesn't help that the weapon he's using is so heavy and awkward... so Trowa flips it around and slams it into the floor tip first, cracking the ground.
Then he takes a cue from the ranged specialist of the Mad Dogs and pulls out his beam rifle, using the hilt of the GN Lance as a brace for the weapon as he takes careful aim, then unleashes a single, precise shot into the back of the Baruch Ben.
The cockpit block shatters. But he does not stop moving. Ratsel is visible, his head, concealed by a helmet and his face by his glasses, within the broken torso of the Huckebein Trombe. And still, he does not halt in his assault. The gunman takes aim again, this time, to Ringo's own cockpit block.
He smirks. It's because he knows this feeling- this sensation. He knows it, and he embraces it.
A console appears next to him. His fist slams into it like a hammer of justice, as deep in the Moon's heart, the signal is recieved. The ground rumbles and shatters as that black battleship again rises from the tunnels beneath the moon's surface. It rises beneath the Huckebein, as a large, grey box launches out from the inside of the great, black ark.
It approaches the Huckebein, and unfolds.
"Your slavemasters use gravitational fields to transport the cockpits of the pilots away from the battlefront when the machines become too damaged to continue fighting." Ratsel pours all of the Huckebein's remaining energy reserves- even as the cracked reactor begins spilling raw power out of the myriad holes in the black unit's armor, "How shall it deal with THIS!?"
It pulls the trigger, suddenly unleashing a column of barely contained gravitons.
"GRAVIIITYYYYYYY---"
And then the cannon drops, and the Huckebein allows itself to be carried along with the blast.
"IMPAAAAAAAAAAAACT--" Its leg is outstretched, its pilot containing his own vital organs against the onslaught of gravitational forces with naught but the clench of his muscles, the gravity territory, and his own flight suit.
A console appears- one of the few that was not damaged by the attack.
It reads: SHOUT NOW.
Ratsel is more than happy to oblige.
"KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!"
"UUUUUUUNIIIIIIIIIIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSE!"
"THERE IS NOTHING...MY ZANKANTOU CANNOT CLEAAAAAAAAVE!"
Even as Sanger fails to properly finish the job, he still roars out his infamous follow-up line. As he stares into the face of Antenora, as he looks into the charging Olza Cannon, Sanger's eyes narrow. He is not intimidated by scare tactics; he is not intimidated by overwhelming odds. This man, who has fought Ramba Ral and survived! This man, who has lived through countless odds, and overcome each time - and he refues to be defeated.
"AND THAT INCLUDES YOUR BLAST!" Sanger roars, instantly reversing the Zankantou's fall. He slams the Grungust's palm against the blade's heavy hilt, swinging it back upwards; it cleaves through the Olga Cannon shot directed at him, splitting and pouring into the sky. The blade continues upwards past Euzeth's machine, just the end of it far enough to connect - but that would still leave a mark.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! THIS IS THE FLAW OF YOUR KIND, BALMARIAN! THE HARDER YOU PUSH AGAINST MANKIND, THE HARDER THEY FIGHT! THE STRONGER WE BECOME! WITH EACH! PASSING! DAY!"
"AND WE WILL SURPASS YOU! WE HAVE ALREADY BEGUN TO DO SO!"
"NOW...TAKE THIS! SEE THE FACES OF THOSE YOU HAVE STOLEN! FEEL THE LOSS OF THOSE YOU HAVE WRONGED!"
"TAKE OUR LOVE! OUR ANGER! AND ALL OF OUR SORROW! AND CARRY IT BACK TO YOUR PEOPLE AS A MESSAGE!"
"EARTH! SHALL NOT! FALL!"
The drill falls forward once again, starting to whirr. But this time, it is not a boost knuckle that comes forward; no, the free hand of the grungust reaches forward to grab Ascian's machine by the head as the drill arm swings around for the finishing blow:
"BUUUUUUUURNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!"
"DRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLL!" "FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNGERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Russel Bagman sees this one isn't much of a talker unlike the others, he's got nothing else to say to them. He does stand his ground as the Antenroa turns to face him. It then opens fire at him as he's making contacty with the other machine. Russel's machine seems to vanish into the light. There's no way a sample made machine should be able to surive that, right? Armor plate is burned off, interals are exposedm the head's melted yet when the light clears, the Gespenst still stands and it's functional to boot.
A second later two spheres launch from the back of his machine. "GO SLASH RIPPERS!"
Blades pop out and they fly fill speed at the alien machine.
Kharul is still going. This is...not good.
The Orange Mad Dog is turned on by Kharul with intent to dismember, disembowel, behead and delimb. Only three of those are actually possible with a mobile suit, and Kharul makes good on all three. The twin wheel buster smashes straight through the right shoulder of the orange Mad Dog, severing the limb completely. The Mad Dog stumbles backwards as the other end of the sheel staff comes around and cleanly takes off the entire head of the GM.
The gray Mad Dog isn't just going to let his partner get slaughtered. The gray GM ignites it's thrusters, leaping up into the air as it grasps it's standard beam saber from it's recharge rack. The beam blade ignites and is held tightly in two hands as it comes crashing down, one foot outstretched for the back of the Baruch Ben. In a perfectly standard GM Kick.
Well they can't all be original.
"Opponent hit!" Duat reports. "Yes!" Ascian can't hold his entheusiasm, as finally one of his attacks had gone through - and boy did it ever. Due to the angle, he was lucky enough that he didn't hit the SDF-3 beneath, or it would now have a serious hullbreach to deal with. "Let's go~" He gets cut off as a big red light burns claiming; "WARNING! INCOMMING MISSILES!" He had not expected this at all, and clutches firmly on his controls. The wings quickly retreat from their bit-figure, but it cannot unform the rifle in time. A single missile crashes against the formed weapon and breaks off a good chunk of its end.
An explosion sends a fierce tremble through the Orbital Frame, and Ascian gets justled around sightly whilst his unit retreats backwards - only to find it to suddenly stop! Ascian's body is jerked around, before he looks up at what had just stopped Amenthes' movement. "What the?" He noticed that the head of his unit was stuck in the hand of Sanger's unit - and is released again - moved away from the enemy. And as he watches the gigantic drill come past - he unleashes his unit's limiters on the wings.
The thing bursts into bits again which immediately pulse their red color. Amenthes' arms reform into the large rifle cannon that had previously send out an attack that had pierced through his enemy's chest - and he was intending on doing this again. The metatron veins pulse heavily, and pieces of armor plating are crushed and moved as it substitutes that in the arms to form this weapon once more. In a perfect circle then, the beams suddenly fire right alongside of Sanger's attack - guiding the giant beam that soon follows - compressing space between them! Sanger did plenty of announcing for him.
"Your efforts..." Euzeth begins, as the drill comes in for his machine. He brings up one immense, armored forearm -- the only remaining one -- and deflects the punch. The drill rips past, leaving gouged armor on the armor, but the drill never bites in deeper. "...are for naught."
The slash rippers come sweeping in. They circle in from behind -- and the next thing Euzeth knows, the arm that deflected drops down to the ground, severed at the elbow. Euzeth stares in disbelief. The Gespenst, somehow, survived.
"Sample!" he roars. "You will pay for that--"
The second shot comes in. This one slashes through the chest, near the gravity generation engine. There is a shudder of black energy. The Antenora buckles and stumbles. Euzeth's eyes widen, and he slams a fist down on a console button.
The Antenora vanishes in a flash of blue light.
Kharul Chatul does not suffer from battle rage, at least not this kind of bloodlust. That unit is down; she turns away from it, though she does level a kick in its direction to make sure it falls away from her instead of against her, tangling her actions.
The incoming GM Kick is intercepted by the free hand of the Baruch Ben, suddenly holding an ignited gold beam saber. She pushes away, through the follow-through chop from the Or Blade goes wide, leaving little glittering flecks in the air.
And then the beam sniper blast hits the Baruch Ben right in the back of the head, where it meets the shoulders.
Inside the cockpit, Kharul is suddenly engulfed in sparks as something explodes; a monitor, above her head. Her head feels like it's on fire from the feedback, little pinpoints of light dancing in her eyes... but the Baruch Ben still moves, its smoking, half-melted head turning to face Trowa.
Kharul whips one of the buzzsaws on its cord out toward Trowa, whirling it around in a wide arc. "That isn't enough to kill me," she growls, low. "Nothing you can do is. Even if you drive off Lord Gozzo, I will survive!" The /second/ buzzsaw launches the other way; Kharul whips it sideways as well, tiny thrusters sending it spinning through the air, skimming dangerously close to both GMs (and possibly into one) though most of her attention is on Trowa. The third arm on her body reaches to the side, starting to trigger a series of toggles and buttons in the cockpit.
The two forces collided...Azgad trying to take the final shot...
And the FORCE OF GRAVITY ITSELF! In the powerful kick, Dr. Gravity appeared, with his german speaking accent, causing the miricle kick to go home, The Zeriarch being split in half...and for a moment it seems as if the unit wasn't going to warp away.
However, something happens, and the unit suddenly is gone...
Well...most of it.
There were no words from the departing Balmarian?
Ratsel doesn't stop smirking, but it does fade- slightly. Dialling down from a ten to a nine. He looks to the stars, to the distant Neviim, as the Huckebein rises and returns to the safety of the Kurogane. Ringo, someday soon, you will be among those with whom you truly belong.
But for now, a captain is needed on the bridge, and Ratsel is quick to fill that void.
Russel Bagman sees the command unit has teleported awya, there's no issue with this. The enemy is gone, Russel now pulls back as the GMs are locked in mortal combat. Russel sends a radio to the GM that's still up as he looks over the damage displays.
"Over ride power systems and reroute it through the secondary power couplings that should keep you in the fight a bit longer!"
As he does that his own Gespenst makes a blitz for the downed GM.
"I got ya man, hang on and get ready to grab your weapon with your good arm."
Several repair systems come on line, tentacle snake out and Russel quickly does a patch job, the GM's a mess but he's going to do what he can.
Crap, this move again. Trowa remembers it from last time, and it's still just as effective now as it was then. He quickly snatches up the GN Lance as the wheel comes whipping around and slams into the Jinx's shoulder, shattering the arm completely and sending the beam rifle scattering. With the lance as his only weapon left, Trowa snaps it up and just /unloads/ on Kharul.
And then his lance stops firing. That's right, Trowa has somehow managed to make an /AMMOLESS WEAPON/ run out of ammo. It's just his curse in life to never have enough ammo.
Alright then, if he can't /shoot/ her, he'll just have to do the next best thing.
Tossing the lance up in the air, Trowa catches it in a reverse grip, then hefts it bad as he gets ready to throw.
It's time to get Ghouls and Goblins on this bitch. :|
"You'd think they'd come up with something better when they get angry. Sample this, sample that..." Ascian is feeling pretty good about himself there, so he is decidedly more vocal across the speakers right now. "What's next, a constant 'I'll get your next time'?" The bits return and the rifle unforms with some rough movements in between stages - before the unit raises a single leg and casually floats there for a moment whilst the radar seeks out more targets.
There were still others. The young man stares up at the energy levels. He hadn't realized just how low they were up until a little moment ago, and this wasn't the time to go dilly-dallying around. "At this rate, we won't be able to fend off another attack. But currently, we do not have the energy to get back to earth." Ascian estimates, something which Amenthes confirms to him without needing Duat to vocalize it.
He wonders - turning speakers off, "Now what do we do? The aliens are slowly falling one by one, and the EFA will soon have the SDF-3 in their hands. Command won't be happy." A grimace appears on his face. At least the aliens didn't have it. The unit slowly descends onto the deck of the SDF-3 - whilst Ascian wonders if slipping in is going to get himself shot at.
The wheel saw cyclone of doom comes flying in at the Grey Mad Dog as it lands from the aborted GM kick. The pilot though knows well enough to hit the ground and roll his machine away from the devastating melee weapon attack. The wheel saw slicing through the air overhead by only a few meters.
The Orange GM is patched up by Russel's GM as the pilot bypasses the systems they're instructed too "Done!" The Mobile Suit is held up by the Personal Trooper. It's remaining hand grasps it' hand gun and levels it at the Baruch Ben as it engages in melee death. At the same time the grey GM rolls on to it's back and hefts it long range beam rifle again, bracing the weapon between it's knees as both GMs fire at once.
Kharul Chatul retracts the two chakram buzzsaws in with a loud click-clack, holding the weapon in front of the Baruch's torso, crosswise. The still-smoking back of the robot's head makes it look especially demonic. She makes it take half a step forward.
The lance, thrown like a javelin, hits the Baruch Ben in the stomach with enough force to literally make it stagger backwards several steps. Kharul feels a bizarre sensation in the pit of her stomach; a hole, something moving inside it. Her third hand reaches toward her real one to make sure it's still intact. (It is.)
"Heh," Kharul says. "I told you. I don't die." Her voice sounds rough, but still there, despite the hole clear through one of the obvious places to put a cockpit, the spear still embedded in it. She turns back, toward the Mad Dogs, toward the GM she thought was downed.
It's not, not entirely. The beam rifle sweeps across the Baruch's legs, severing one at the knee and causing the robot to list dangerously to the side; Kharul literally falls into the gunfire, a line of bullet holes working its way up from the gut to the faceplate of the Baruch.
Kharul screams, more in rage than pain, but the Baruch is not responsive; it collapses to the floor with a crunch, the impact driving the spear the rest of the way through it, completely impaling the robot and pointing upwards, toward the ceiling, as she lies on the butt. The scream suddenly dies as the point comes out the back of the robot.
And for a few moments, it looks like the Baruch Ben will stay there, not teleporting away. It takes almost ten full seconds of just sitting there before it wavers and pulls inward, vanishing, as the Balmarians pull her back whether she is able to retreat on her own or not, or even still alive.
The Mad Dogs both keep their weapons trained on Kharul's unit until it disappears. The gray Mad Dog slowly gets back to it's feet. "Lets get to engineering and get this boat in the air before they decided to bombared this entire place."
The Mad Dogs know the way through the rest of the ship towards engineering. It's a bit of a trek with no power on in the ship, good thing it's built for Mobile Suit access. The Mad Dogs seal the loading ramp once everyone who should be on board is on board, and then lead everyone to the heart of the ship.
The engine room of the SDF-3 is absolutely cavernous. The only room you can think of thats bigger is the shipyards the ship is actually itself in. In it's center sits the mute, blocky shape of the Thermonuclear Reaction Chamber, often just called a Reflex Furnace for ease. The gray and Orange GM's connect to the engineering network panels and instruct Russel to watch the fuel balance carefully. Trowa is instructed to link with the propulsion system.
Whatever computer program they use, bullrushes the start up sequence of the Reflex Furnace. Energy levels spike sharply, then skyrocket. The entire ship trembles as power is diverted to the propulsion systems of the kilometer and a half long battle fortress. Mooring clamps are torn clean off as the Super Dimensional Fortress raises into the air, and then with a squeal of metal the upper hull impacts the shipyard doors above.
The ship shakes like it's going to fall apart but the doors above the ship giveaway and the SDF-3 launches into Lunar orbit.
The Grungust Type-3 finishes its brutal assault on the leftover drones of Ze Balmary Empire as Kharul's unit vanishes. The Zankantou is hefted over the Grungust's shoulder, Sanger lets out a smirk in the cockpit as the drill thrusters send him hurtling back to the Kurogane.
The Grungust Type-3 settles down on the Kurogane's prow, allowing Sanger to look out at the launch of the magnificent SDF-3. His lips twist upwards, shifting from smirk to smile.
Another hope for Mankind, pulled from Balmarian hands. One step closer...to victory!
Sanger Zonvolt, the Sword That Cleaves Evil, and the Grungust Type-3 fire off a brief, old-style EFA salute before retreating into the Kurogane's hangar.
Until the next time they would be called upon.
When the ginormous SDF-3 rises, Ascian Luddite has decided not to risk anything and to simply stay outside on top of the hull of the magnificent battleship. He doesn't belong inside, but there was no real reason for him to leave quite yet either. Just beneath the hull-shield that extends above the command-deck's windows, the Orbital Frame rests as it takes off through the massive doors. In his Vector Trap, he knew there was a signal he could attach. But something... something told him not to.
"Energy levels within tolerable levels." - "Time to go home." The verniers of the Orbital Frame tremble as if initiates the highest level of power to them - and begins to compress space before itself. "Minor space compression complete. Travel intiating in 5... 4... 3..." A red shield begins to form around the orbital frame. "2... 1..." The verniers are at max, and the moment Duat claims '0', massive G-forces hit Ascian's body, as they begin their travel back to earth.
Russel Bagman gets the info he needs, and he goes to work. He's got a job to do, with the SDF-3 and everyone's role here is imporant. He's got a lot of data to handle here, if the fuel balance goes off it would be problematic. But the ship launches, The SDF-3 Revil.