The year is Universal Century 0084, those few remaining souls who fought for Zeon independence so many years ago have managed to find their way to Axis, the massive asteroid base located beyond the remnants of Side 3. The Principality of Zeon is no more and in its wake, the Federation has grown incredibly powerful, and with that power corruption has followed. Many at Axis watched the Delaz Fleet continue the battle they all once waged in the year 0083, and while it inspired fervor and kindled fires in the hearts of some, but failed to move Axis to mobilize for outright war.

The powers at Axis, contented with the modicum of power allowed to them by the Federation simply stayed their hand while the comrades of many of those aboard Axis fought and died in the name of Spacenoid Independence. With the final phases of Operation Stardust a success, the stolen colony from Side 7 impacted North America, destroying a large portion of the Earth’s agricultural land. However, this was merely a pyrrhic victory, with much of the Delaz Fleet killed in action, among them Aiguile Delaz himself and ace pilot Anavel Gato. Those few who managed to break through the Federation’s blockade in the final battle of Operation Stardust have now found themselves at Axis.

In the aftermath of Operation Stardust, the Federation created the Titans, a radical leaning and well- funded offshoot of the Federation tasked with hunting down and eliminating Zeon “radicals” as well as their sympathizers. However, even in its early stages it has proven that it is nothing more than a biased anti-spacenoid militia despite carrying the flag of the Federation. The Titans clearly have their own agenda, but to what ends they are willing to go is unknown at this time. What is clear though is that they are aggressively hunting former Zeon members as well as constantly harrying and imposing unnecessary sanction against the colonies that were or are sympathetic to the cause of Zeon. All the while, Axis does little else but watch as its own supporters are chastised and victimized by this new task force with the promise to “return true power to Earth’s hands.”

Having grown weary of inaction and falling in line to orders of those who would not take the stand they needed to, Captain Jaryk, a former ace pilot himself has decided to take what remains of his crew and commandeer an aging and soon to be decommissioned Gwazine class ship, which lacks some more modern features such as a catapault, it does have respectable firepower as well as a mobile suit hangar that can accommodate 20 units. Captain Jaryk has enlisted the help of several Papua Class Support Craft and most importantly has convinced an old war time comrade, Commander Marius Freya to join their cause, bringing with him his Zanzibar Class Assault Cruiser and compliment of 8 mobile suits. Commander Freya’s contingent of mobile suits however are dated, consisting of 4 Rick Dom II and 4 Zaku II Kai mobile suits. However, their squad leader Lieutenant Mariya Jagen is a survivor from Operation Stardust with incredible skill as a pilot and makes them a force to be reckoned with. While this guerilla force cannot be directly supported or sanctioned by Axis, they have given silent support in the form of allowing Jaryk and his rag tag band to ‘comandeer’ the Gwazine in the first place, and while Axis may offer passive support at times, they cannot be counted on for backup or supplies.
Captain Jaryk’s contingent of mobile suits, as well as their pilots are more varied (these will be our characters) in both their capabilities, experiences and motivations for joining this cause. Some burn with patriotic virtue, others seek revenge, and some merely heed the siren call of war to sate their desire for combat.

The heroes of Zeon are either dead or biding their time to strike when it suits them best, it is now up to this rag tag band to continue the effort that so many of them embarked on seemingly eons ago in the One Year War. These are the Embers of Zeon.
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"You're sure of your course of action on this?" Admiral Daeken looked across the table to Captain Jaryk, the two had fought many battles together against the Federation, and while Daeken had enjoyed the spoils of war to a certain extent with a promotion and a good deal of respect among the scattered Zeon soldiers that inhabited Axis. In addition to the promotion, Daeken had aged gracefully, hints of grey creeped into his hairline and mustache, but physically, he was no worse for wear from the horrors of the One Year War. Captain Jaryk on the other hand...Daeken couldn't help but look upon his friend and comrade with some amount of pity, they had called him "The Phoenix of Zeon" at one point, but the war had broken his body, taken it from him and left the man that stood before him. Jaryk was certainly steeled of heart, but he was no longer the imposing figure he had once been. His left leg was gone from the knee down, underneath the dress blues that Jaryk had worn to their private meeting, Daeken knew there was gruesome scars that ran across his torso and left arm. The left sleeve was not as filled out as the right, his left arm having lost some of its strength when the doctors had been forced to operate to remove large chunks of shrapnel from the shattered and sundered cockpit of his Zaku II towards the middle of the One Year War. A part of Daeken grieved and burned for vengeance for his friend. But there was protocol to think about.

Jaryk had been given command of a ship, "The Abyssal Fury" for his sacrifices, but he couldn't physically pass the tests necessary for a pilot anymore. Jaryk stared back with his one good eye, his left bore a leather patch strapped over it, he could sense his friend looking him over, was it pity? No, it was concern, that was almost harder for Jaryk to grit and bare. "I assure you Admiral, I can-" he tried to continue, but Admiral Daeken quickly put his hand up to silence him. "Let's say for one moment that your intel is correct on this matter," he pressed a gloved finger firmly onto the document in front of him on the table, the glasses next to either man were filled with top shelf whiskey, the glasses coated, indicating this may have been their second or third. It needed to be, the information that Captain Jaryk had brought with him was incredibly delicate, and there were few within Axis that he trusted. A quick sip from his glass and Daeken continued, "-Even if this is accurate, what do you hope to accomplish with one ship? You claim to have support of another, but refuse to name him, why? You know you can trust me Arlen." Captain Jaryk nodded, "I can trust you, but if I am found out, I won't put someone else's feet into the fire." Arlen Jaryk had always been a commendable man, and it was no wonder to Daeken that he had gathered up the support of his full crew and even some eager mobile suit pilots. But the question remained on the table, what was Jaryk's goal.

The pause from Daeken gave Jaryk the cue that it was his turn to reveal his hand. "Our mission will be simple, to strike at the Titans soft targets. A small scale guerilla force can move through their fleet lines and create havoc. We've seen that when given reason to rally the other colonies will respond positively to our message." Admiral Daeken smirked, shaking his head, this tactician in front of him bore little resemblance to the hot headed ace pilot he served next to during the war. "I've never known you to be a 'big picture' man, nor a look at me politician, and this 'campaign' stinks of both." Daeken was losing interest and it pained him to do so, but he would not be a part of some half wrought plan simply to harbor glory from times past by a man who's time as a pilot had been cut short.

"darnit Breya!" Jaryk slammed his right fist on the table and stood up shakily, his left arm trembling as he held the table for balance. "I've come here with good intel! This is serious, the Titans are stacking the deck to hunt down all Zeon Remnants and we're sitting here doing nothing! Just give me the Abyssal Fury! You don't even need her anymore, she's going to be decommissioned soon anyways." There were nearly tears in Arlen Jaryk's eyes as he spoke to his one time friend, no, he was pleading with his friend, not to get involved, but to merely step aside and allow him to take this course of action. Jaryk's face contorted into near feral visages as he spoke from his heart, imploring his friend to listen to him, "I have to be a 'big picture man now because no one else here wants to wake up and realize that we're still at war! While we sit here with our hands in our laps the Titans and the Federation are consolidating power and placing us further and further into a corner, we need to fight back, and if this campaign can do anything to help then I'm going to do everything in my power to see it happen." Jaryk was winded and red in the face and inhaled and exhaled deeply as he stared at Daeken.

"So the real Arlen Jaryk is still in there," The grizzled and wounded posture of Captain Jaryk could not hide the raw power and emotion that still emanated from the man. "Arlen, I cannot sanction this course of action, you know that-" Jaryk's whole body shrunk and the sorrow was immediately visible in his one piercing blue eye. "-However, we have been friends since the academy, and your intel here is good, I know that much. But the higher ups will hear none of it, if we were to reveal we even knew about this, well, they'd lose any shreds of power and influence they've still got and the Titans would sink us." Admiral Daeken stood up and looked at Jaryk, "I can't sanction any of this and I can't tell you anything, but the Abyssal Fury was retrofitted to carry only 14 mobile suits, the rest of the hanger was redesigned to carry something..." He let the pause formulate, as if looking for the right words, "...Well, something quite potent. The access codes and schematics are on my desk." Daeken turned his back to Jaryk, "You know if I am asked about any of this I will have to tell them that you held me at gunpoint and I tried to stop you. You'll have 25 minutes to get your crew and mobile suits in order, after that it will become entirely too obvious what you're doing. Good luck Arlen."

Jaryk quickly grabbed up the key cards that Admiral Daeken had laid out on the desk. He meandered awkwardly around the desk, his mobility limited by his lost left leg and drew his pistol. He raised his hand up, pistol in hand and was interrupted by Admiral Daeken. "Only you should access what's on those keycards, it's too much responsibility for anyone else, only you can handle it. Zieg Zeon!" Jaryk brought the pistol down, striking Daeken on the top of the head, causing him to slump down to the floor and lay there unconscious.

"This is Jaryk to bridge," he used his handheld comm device, the response came back immediately "This is the Bridge Captain Jaryk, we've got the crew aboard awaiting your orders sir!". Jaryk's orders were clear, "Prepare to launch, and send an immediate scramble notification to the following pilots!" He sent the coded message to pilots he believed he could trust, that he felt would heed the true call of Zeon.
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Viktor Ramov: You are in your quarters gazing fondly at an old photo of your estranged wife and your then infant son whom you have not seen since the Stardust Rebellion. For all you know they are back on Earth now living happily and married to some pig farmer, or worse, to some Feddie bastard. But more than that you remember the warmth and love that your family gave you, a feeling you have not had since arriving on Axis. On Axis you have only felt like a cog in a machine that is no longer needed and thus cast aside. A ping pops up on your private comm line, the following audio is streamed to you. A voice that you vaguely remember, but it is of a man that you have never personally served with. "This is Captain Arlen Jaryk, the time has come, no more can we sit idly by chewing the fat and growing weak while we convince ourselves that we have finished our fight! No, my brothers and sisters, we are still at war, the newly minted Titans have already shown their colors and their oppressive tactics towards our brethren in the colonies. Now is our time to rise up, to strike back and ignite the sparks of Zeon that still burn throughout the Earth Sphere! I ask you to join me and once again throw yourselves into the flames of war, our hands have been force and there is no other way to achieve our freedom! Zieg Zeon!" Get to the hangar with the Abyssal Fury before it launches on its campaign.

Tyrius Garrou: You are going over the painted tally marks from your 'glory' at A Baoa Qu, and your call numbers in remembrance of your first combat squadron when the following audio overrides your private comm line, hissing and crackling before the audio cleans up and delivers its message: "This is Captain Arlen Jaryk, the time has come, no more can we sit idly by chewing the fat and growing weak while we convince ourselves that we have finished our fight! No, my brothers and sisters, we are still at war, the newly minted Titans have already shown their colors and their oppressive tactics towards our brethren in the colonies. Now is our time to rise up, to strike back and ignite the sparks of Zeon that still burn throughout the Earth Sphere! I ask you to join me and once again throw yourselves into the flames of war, our hands have been force and there is no other way to achieve our freedom! Zieg Zeon!"

Sarah Miriam (Metal Zeta): Status Pending Approval after some minor edits
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Thos approved are free to post now.

Those souls shackled to Earth could never understand. They could never understand the absolute peace that a Spacenoid could know. The spirit elevated and the mind calmed by the absolute silence of the never ending darkness. What was Thenia doing now? She had always been fond of the dirt rock and it's pollution and wars and noises and that always struck the Lieutenant as absurd. The slightly crinkled picture looked back at Viktor like some haunting memento reminding him of the choices that he'd made. That Spacenoid lives mattered more than his own and that he had once had the power to affect change to make their lives better or so he had thought. The futility and powerlessness he had felt at the close of Operation Stardust was nothing short of a shattering experience. They had sacrificed countless lives, magnificent machines, and had ultimately accomplished their mission but the ripple did little to stir the soul in those seeking shelter at Axis. Every moment walking the halls of this mausoleum scratched at his being; that he would be reduced to living among the very cowards he'd sought to stir to action. He kept mostly to his quarters aboard Axis now aside from the minimal time spent attending to his duties and maintaining his Kämpfer.

"Thenia. . . "

A brief fantasy of smiling faces and a warless Viktor danced through his mind and the Lieutenant fought back a tear for just a moment and steeled himself. No there was no higher calling than Zeon than to setting Spacenoids free from the Earth Federation and their Titan watchdogs. She was likely happy now with a man who's fire burned dimly but would be there for her and Lio. He put the picture aside and picked up a news clipping of Aiguille Delaz from when he pronounced war in 0083. The man stood straight as a beam saber with an unshakable conviction in his ideals. The final words still echoed through his mind Zieg Zeon, even as death lingered at his shoulder his thoughts were with the people of space and the holy endeavor they carried. Viktor slumped sinking into the chair of the room resigning himself to a night of company with beer and memories when a jingling burst through onto his computer. It was hauntingly familiar:

"This is Captain Arlen Jaryk. . ."

"Is that the Pheonix? Or. . . "

. . . Zieg Zeon!"

The Lieutenant bolted upright at the beginning of the speech, the hairs bristling on his arms and the back of his neck and ripples of emotion traveling down from his spine like a favorite song. At the conclusion he could only mouth in barely a whisper, "Zieg Zeon." There was a dizzying sense of purpose that caught Viktor like a hay-maker and all at once the soldier knew what was needed to be done. A duffel was filled with an impeccable uniform and he was promptly dressed in his Zeon space suit a personalized gray blue with gold trim matching that of his mobile suit and with the helmet in one arm and the duffel slung over his shoulder the Lieutenant left the room the only personal items being brought were the two pictures.

The soldier found a zeal he had not possessed in months if not years and grasped one of the conveyer handles that moved personal with much more haste about the asteroid to the localized hanger where his personal MS-18E was stationed and all at once the beautiful suit came into being alongside other Zaku's and various Doms. It had its own charm about it though the suit was worn and had seen him through lull between the One Year War and Operation Stardust. It bore the scars of an oppressed people and it carried within it the fire of that people like a mighty standard. He hopped gently and floated towards his Mobile Suit like a paper airplane until brushing gently against the titanium armor plating. One of the engineers came over to him more out of curiosity than anything else.

"Sir! What are you doing? Oh! Lieutenant Romav! Doing another test run?"

"Nope, we're sending her out with the Abyssal Fury. Going to decommission the whole set of relics I guess."

"Huh! Didn't even know. That's a Damn shame! These are monuments to the Zeon ideals! Why it's almost collectible!" The engineer laughed and Viktor had to muster what self-control he could to not berate the man for insulting his Mobile Suit so. He plastered a weak smirk onto his face and responded after a deep breath.

"Guess so. . . Anyway-I wanted to take her over myself, give her a final send off. You mind?"

"Heck no, I could use the extra hand. Going to miss seeing her around here that's for sure."

"Yeah, take care." The cockpit closed before the engineer could make a remark. If there was something afoot that no one else was aware of then likely he wouldn't have much time to get over. Placing the duffel bag behind the pilots chair Viktor secured the helmet in place and ran through the start-up procedure and almost like being awakened the Kämpfer stirred to life under him.

"MS-18. . . Moving out." Hopefully they would overlook a decommissioned mobile suit that was still fully armed.

I won't forget...I'll never let myself forget Tyrius thought, his mind wandering into a darker place and a harsher time. A Baoa Qu, the last stand of Zeon in the One Year War, where he'd staked his claim as a pilot, some said gifted, others merely wrote him off as an arrogant and opportunistic bastard. There for the glory, and absent for the hardship. After all, he'd only fought in two battles during the One Year War, and as major as they were, Solomon and A Baoa Qu were only the fading moments of glory for the Zeon war for freedom.

What had he done since that one battle at A Baoa Qu? He'd flashed some hints of skill, and even moments of leadership, brief and fleeting moments of necessity where he was the next man up, so to speak. He wondered if perhaps that battle had broken him, as confident as he was in himself, as arrogant as he was to the outside world, he truly, deeply wondered if he could ever measure up to those fleeting hours where he's proven himself to be more than just some promising youngster, he'd actualized himself, lived up to the potential he'd shown in the academy. But what did it mean now? Nothing. Zeon was dead and now he and the rest just marched around the corridors of Axis, masquerading about as if they still mattered.

The hissing and crackling came over his comm and he shook his head, Great, more simulated patrols... but the voice that carried over the comm was familiar, it carried a power and it struck a chord with Tyrius, a sensation of enthusiasm and pride that he hadn't known since he was first rallied into to combat at Solomon when he was only 18. "Now is the time to rise up!" Tyrius found himself nodding along as the pre-recorded speech reached its crescendo, in unison with the Captain's message, Tyrius mouthed "Zieg Zeon." His mind suddenly shot into the present, the numbers '37', a potent reminder of his friends and comrades lost in combat during that suicidal mission to defend A Baoa Qu when they had only been recently graduated cadets, given their wings weeks, if not months too early, but the war effort demanded more manpower and as such, their lives had been sacrificed to the fires of war.

Tyrius' mobile suit was already given a combat loadout as he still took part in patrols in and around Axis' space perimeter, but he would need his personal affects. He turned to a mobile suit technician and barked orders with as much authority as he could muster, "See to it that my Gelgoog is ready to launch in 10 minutes, I need it fully loaded for combat duties as well as maximum propellant. I've got orders to escort the Abyssal Fury to her decommission ceremony!" The tech simply looked at him, somewhat dumbfounded, the kid was probably even a couple years younger than Tyrius was and though he had never really spoken with the young man, he knew he was a good technician. He raced to his quarters to grab his belongings.
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By the time he was done, his room looked like it had been almost ransacked. Miscellaneous pieces of clothing that he never wore anymore strewn across the floor. His duffel from his days in the academy was stuffed to the gills, but neatly packed. His dress uniform, two sets of fatigues and boots were all that were contained in the pack. He grabbed a single picture from his mundane, standard issue desk. It was a framed and signed picture of the 37th, all wearing their dress uniforms the day of their corronation, the night before they fought at Solomon, the last night the band of friends, brothers and sisters would all be together. The last night they'd all be alive. Karzas died within a minute of launching, Lucia never made it out of the hangar, their ship had been destroyed before her number had been called up. His heart wretched in his chest for all of them, those he knew were dead, and those who he didn't know what had happened, M.I.A. In space, that was almost worse than just being dead. The tears welled in his eyes, but they weren't simply sorrowful, there was a gratitude he held in this moment, that he now had a chance to fight again, fight for his friends.
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He swaggered back through the corridors of Axis, a refound pep and arrogance, his duffel slung over his shoulder, his pilot's suit was close fit, the brass toned epaullette's rustling a little as he maneuvered through the hustle and bustle of the mobile suit hangar. The attending tech ran up and saluted him, "Ensign Garrou, your mobile suit is ready to launch!" Tyrius nodded, and wordlessly walked past the man. He could remake himself in the eyes of others, though privately he grieved heavily, still felt the losses keenly from the One Year War. He clambored into the cockpit of the Gelgoog R, painted in a royal and midnight blue color combination that lent itself to operations in space, though if he were being truthful, his reasoning was far less tactical, he merely liked how it looked. "Ensign Tyrius Garrou, launching to rendezvous with Abyssal Fury." He spoke without hesitation and didn't wait for proper confirmation. The thrusters burst to life, creating a wash of blue white fire that sent him careening out of the hangar into space. He flipped through several channels before dialing in the encrypted line for the Abyssal Fury. "Captain Jaryk, this is Ensign Tyrius Garrou, you may not remember me, but at A Baoa Qu...You saved my life Sir. I will do everything I can to repay you sir."

The engineer was either too busy to care or simply took the Lieutenant's word for granted. It worked to his favor that he'd spent a great deal of time with the MS-18 tinkering with it in the miserable emptiness that followed the exodus from the Delaz Fleet. Warriors without purpose were lost like carpenters without wood. The engineers flitted about mostly just trying to keep the suits and ships in working condition. Without battle they, like the warriors that piloted them, seemed to atrophy and wither from their glory. The lieutenant took his Kämpfer out for drills and routines but it did little to satiate the spirit within the machine.

The catapult erupted to life and suddenly Viktor felt as though a massive hand was pushing him into the worn cushioned seat. It felt better than any bed he had ever been in. As the catapult slung the Kämpfer into the blackness glimmering stars in the distance came into view and a smile crossed Viktor's face. It was a beautiful view and one that Earthlings couldn't understand and a lot of Spacenoids couldn't appreciate. There was a certain nostalgia in the way that space looked through a mobile suit's display.

Other ships mainly commercial in origin darted around Axis and for a brief moments memories of Zeon warships flitting about Solomon came into view. He was younger then and wasn't even a mobile suit pilot. However being aboard a Musai and looking out the windows the ship carried and watching the formations of suits and warships flying about was just too much for the young man who dreamed of piloting one of them. He had no idea that he'd be thrown into battle with pilots ten years younger than him with just as much experience which didn't mean much. It was a massacre of strong promising young men and suddenly reality came back as a patrol squadron of Rick Dom model lls came into view as their thrusters obscured the view of space beyond and just like that they were gone leaving Viktor to his thoughts again. All he could think about was how right this felt.

"I'm going to die in this chair. . . I'll die the death of a warrior the way those honored souls of Zeon died!"

He slammed the accelerator down and was forced back into the seat as the 18E tore through the blackness towards the off side of Axis where the hangar of the Abyssal Fury and the promise of burning Zeon pride awaited him. The mobile suit twisted and contorted as the smaller vernier thrusters engaged popping small bits of propellant working through the paces of practice. The Axis's hangar came into view and the Kämpfer neared the distinguished Gwazine warship bringing a light glaze over Viktor's eyes. It was a sleek knife that would cut through space and strike hard and true against the Titans and their puppets and Romav knew immediately that his destiny was aboard that ship and purpose filled him.

"Gwazine Abyssal Fury! Lieutenant Viktor Romav requesting permission to come aboard."

"Lieutenant Romav, your presence is greatly appreciated. Pleasantries aside, land in Hanger 2 and report to the mobile suit pilot assembly station and we'll get you debriefed. You'll need to be on alert and ready to scramble though Lieutenant, our actions are unsanctioned by Axis and we may face their disapproval." Captain Jaryk shook his head as he let the comm go dead, the idea that Axis might step in to intervene sickened him. That was the reality though, and he issued orders to keep track of all incoming and passing patrols, there was a very real possibility of this whole operation went up in flames before they ever even got to engage with the Federation and their attack dog Titans.

"Sir, another mobile suit, this one's a Gelgoog," The radar specialist observed, reporting to the Captain. "It's a blue Gelgoog R sir, comm codes show it belongs to the 37th Naval Assault squad, haven't seen those codes in years sir." Jaryk shot the man a look that could have given Death Itself a moment's hesitation, speaking to clarify the reprimanding look due to the specialist's too casual remark. "You wouldn't have seen those comm codes in years Specialist Anderson because every member of that Assault Squad died at A Baoa Qu. They were nothing more than kids and they fought and died as patriots, fighting for their ideals, to their last man. One young man escaped that maelstrom..." He sighed, he looked out to the stars, the view screen showed a blue Gelgoog R, the marks were clear enough that he knew the pilot. He wasn't sure he wanted to accept him into his operation, the boy had a way about him, something that Jaryk could sense, like the pressure and darkening clouds before a rain storm. He knew Tyrius was arrogant to a fault, but a skilled pilot, well, he had the potential to be a good pilot. It was that balance that made him nervous about Ensign Garrou, the man could be a great help, or he could plunge into the depths of self aggrandizing and glory hounding.

"Sir, Gelgoog R is hailing, how shall we respond?" Captain Jaryk gave no immediate response and instead allowed for the transmission from the pilot come forth. Where he had been inviting and elated to welcome Lieutenant Romav, he was reticent to even speak with Ensign Garrou. He questioned why he had even sent him a transmission in the first place, but perhaps on some level he wanted to see if Garrou could be harnessed into a true soldier of Zeon ideals. That would be a tough task.
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Tyrius' Gelgoog R careened through the short span of space between the 'North' and South' sides of Axis, unnecessarily fast, he burned up his propellant in a wasteful manner, there was a youthful exuberance that was unbecoming a man who had been a pilot as long as he had been. Granted the nature of his inaugeral missions were marred in chaos and mass death, but still that was no excuse, now 5 years removed from A Bao a Qu.

"Abyssal Fury, This is Ensign Garrou, requesting permission to dock." He was already positioning his Gelgoog R in line with the hanger bay, though no response was forthcoming.
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Captain Jaryk personally made his way down to the assembly station by the mobile suit hangers. He missed that smell, the oil and the sparks of maintenance of the machines, the sweat and pride put into caring for the mobile suits. There was a level on intensity that rippled through the air like electricity at all times on the mobile suit deck and it made Jaryk look over his prosthetic leg and his atrophied left arm with disdain. But a level of warmth crept back into his face as he saw the man walking towards him, his steel blue normal suit adorned with gold accents, much like the machine he piloted. Jaryk looked up to admire the mobile suit that had just docked, a Kaempfer, highly specialized for medium and close range combat and hit and run warfare. An incredibly powerful machine in the right hands, and Viktor Romav certainly was capable of maximizing the machine's potential.

"Lieutenant Romav, I am quite glad to see that you've elected to join us." Ever the consummate professional, Lieutenant Romav snapped off a crisp salute and response "Thank you sir. It is good to know there are still men who are proud supporters of Zeon, sir." Jaryke signaled with his hand that Romav could ease up, at least a little.

"Captain Jaryk, The Gelgoog R's pilot Tyrius Garrou has requested to come aboard, what are your orders?" Having monitored the approach of Garrou via in screen monitors in the assembly station, Jaryk was fully aware of the foolishness and ego that the man displayed on his approach. Unnecessary maneuvers, wasteful use of propellant, Jaryk could keep a running list in his head, but it stung at him that he too was once an impatient young man, with an audacity that few could rival. "Lieutenant Romav, Tyrius Garrou has requested to join us, but I have my doubts that a man as undisciplined as him provides more potential to help than harm our cause. We will have no reinforcements from Axis, and I need men and women who are professionals." He wanted to know Romav's opinion of the man, pilots, whether they liked to admit it or not held opinions about every other pilot, and moreso, he wanted to know if the Lieutenant would want to work with a man who could become a distraction. "If push comes to shove, can you handle Garrou?"

Romav was a professional soldier, there was no man he couldn't get to tow in line. He knew of Garrou, but only in name and in his fleeting involvement at A Baoa Qu, he'd heard and seen little of him since arriving at Axis though. "He'll follow my orders or he'll deal with the consequences Captain. He is a survivor, if his heart burns with a fire for Zeon, I will mould him from coal into a diamond." Jaryk nodded approvingly, he had always liked Romav, there was a toughness to the man and it served him well. Viktor Romav was the true embodiment of Zeon's Ideals in Jaryk's eyes. If there's a man who can do it, it'll be you Viktor Jaryk thought to himself, remembering the state of that Gelgoog R when it docked aboard the Abyssal Fury that day at A Baoa Qu, the kid had been lucky that the cockpit hadn't been shot through, the unit bore impact marks all over and he remembered most of all the panicked, frightened, but violent kid he pulled from that nearly wrecked machine.

"Get the hell off me! Those bastards killed my friends! I'll kill them all! the image of that boy fresh from the cadets in a Zeon uniform flashed through Jaryk's mind. The image was as clear as if it had happened just then, the rage, the burning hate that burned in that boy's eyes. Beyond anything he'd ever felt from another person, it had scared him to an extent, how dark, and how bloodthirsty Tyrius Garrou had been in that moment. And yet..."Ensign Tyrius Garrou, you are cleared to land in hangar bay 2."

Suddenly another, more alarming "SIR!" The Bridge shouted its report over the comm. "Incoming HiZacks!! They're moving off the Northern side of Axis! I'm getting 16 signals sir, no mistaking them, they'll be here in 3 minutes!"

"Belay that order Ensign, we've got incoming, HiZacks from Axis, DO NOT engage until ordered! I will not spill Zeon blood where it can be avoided! All mobile suits scramble!" Jaryk's orders came over the open ship frequency.

Another message then blurted over their comms "This is Lieutenant Shale, Captain Jaryk you and your crew are ordered to stand down immediately and turn yourselves over to the authority of Axis."

Romav was already racing to his mobile suit as Jaryk turned and raced to the bridge. "Damn it all" he cursed to himself as he made his way to the bridge.
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The Captain's voice came over the comm giving him permission to board, and just as quickly retracting it. Ordering him to assist in the defense of the Abyssal Fury against Axis' high performance HiZack suits. As he quickly positioned the Gelgoog R alongside the Abyssal Fury, the Gwazine launched what few mobile suits it had, 4 Rick Dom IIs streaked past Tyrius and formed a line ahead of the Abyssal Fury, ready to face the incoming HiZacks.
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Romav: Get to your Kaempfer and lead your squad containing 4 Rick Dom IIs and Tyrius Garrou. You are the commanding officer now, however you may have your hands full with Garrou, reel him in or he could get your whole team killed. Also, what are your orders? Do you enact an alpha strike? Do you wait to see if you can reason with Lieutenant Shale? Do you wait for the Captain to decide your course of action for you?

Garrou: Do you wait for orders or simply launch and attack the incoming Axis HiZacks? How do you react to following orders from Lieutenant Romav who you've never fought alongside before in your limited military experience.
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HiZacks approaching
1x Lieutenant Shale HiZack
15x HiZack
-----------------------
Abyssal Fury -Gwazine Class battleship
1x Kaempfer - Romav
1x Gelgoog R - Garrou
4x Rick Dom II

"Lieutenant Romav . . . Our actions are unsanctioned by Axis and we may face their disapproval."

So this Jarryk was acting independently of command? In truth that didn't surprise the Lieutenant; these cowards hiding in their distant fortress while true men with spirit and pride died. Of course they would never condone an action because it threatens their miniscule crumbs. That message didn't bother Viktor, it wasn't the first time he'd gone against the grain and he held no respect for Axis. He was thankful for the cell they afforded him upon leaving the Delaz fleet but the prison gave no other accommodations. As the MS-18 entered the docking lane a blue Gelgoog flashed into view with flare and a reckless abandon that would have nearly clipped Romav if he hadn't already begun to enter.

Damn fool. . .

The Kämpfer landed without incident and more pangs of familiarity swam through the cockpit. Engineers scrambling about shifting equipment and cargo that was intended for war. He was making the right choice in this he was certain of it. The Lieutenant disembarked and floated easily to the deck. The engineer on site hurried to him and almost out of breath spoke.

"Sir-the captain wants you to keep your mobile suit on a-" He was cut off as the Lieutenant put a hand up with stern but friendly enough pursed lips. "I know, don't worry. Try to top off the propellant if you can if Axis finds out. . . Well get to it!"

He turned and walked from the mobile suit with precise deliberate steps and one would question if this was the same Viktor Romav that had been haunting the corridors of Axis not even an hour ago. Jarryk came into view and the realization dawned on the Lieutenant as the husk of the proud figure he'd known of in the One Year War came into view. Only it wasn't the daring fighter ace that Romav had worshipped while moving cargo, the fighter ace that would inspire Romav to pursue being a mobile suit pilot and who he had thought dead. No this man was a husk, a withered body barely able to contain the greatness that still thundered in the now Captain's breast. A Smile laced with sorrow broadened over the Lieutenants face as he finally had the opportunity to do something he'd wanted to since he was just a soon to be middle aged failure.

A crisp whip of the hand and Romav was fully saluting the captain.

"Lieutenant Romav, I am quite glad to see that you've elected to join us."

The Lieutenant was certain this was the course to take now. However they were interrupted by the Gelgoog that Romav had almost collided with outside the ship. That pilot had decided to join the expedition as well? The Captain immediately probed Viktor either out of true curiosity or perhaps more as a test but Viktor knew little of this Ensign Tyrius Garrou. He'd heard a name similar to that at some point though. Was that the cadet that survived the slaughter at A Baoa Qu? Viktor gave his opinion on the matter; he couldn't blame the Ensign though. To be thrown into the grinder so close to the eventual surrender. To have your death mean nothing except for the remembrance of space itself and then to see the Zeon you died for reduced to this. The thought stung the Lieutenant too and the question of if any good men were still alive among the Zeon Purgatory that was Axis.

"SIR! Incoming HiZacks!!! They're moving off the Northern side of Axis! I'm getting 16 signals sir, no mistaking them, they'll be here in 3 minutes!"

That didn't take long.

Romav knew what was next he only saw a couple other suits that weren't functional in the bay and knew he would be part of the sortie going out to intercept the HiZacks. The newest version of the time honored Zaku might prove problematic but it wasn't something he could think about now. This wouldn't be his time not on the onset of destiny.

The Kämpfer moved to the edge of the bay and tapped the propellant shifting out into space noting the Gelgoog from earlier and a compliment of four Rick Dom Iis that were going to stand the line between the Abyssal Fury and the guard dogs of Axis.

Lieutenant Shale. . .

The image came to view for just a moment. The arrival of Romav onto Axis and encountering the other Lieutenant. He was several years Romav's junior and looked at the charred Kämpfer stinking of marred pride and defeat but ultimately with glory. Shale had decided to stay in the comfort of Axis while the brave men fought with Delaz and had talked quite a bit with Romav about the two month duration of Operation Stardust and the time before it and of Delaz and Gato. Unfortunately the Lieutenant couldn't speak a great deal on either the Vice Admiral or the Ace respectively having never directly interacted with the pilot and having only sparse relations with Delaz. All he could speak of was the fire, mighty and consuming that flowed from the ships that carried out Operation Stardust like a flare in the night sky. Perhaps he'd be able to reason with Shale as the younger Lieutenant seemed to ache at the lack of action back when they first spoke.

The com link opened among the small contingent of defenders and Romav broke the silence.

"This is Lieutenant Viktor Romav and I am the Commanding Officer of this unit. All units maintain readiness but hold your ground. Ensign Garrou stay close to me and don't engage. We need to be as fully operational as possible for our Endeavor."

Viktor switched his radio transmitter to engage Shale at this time and cleared his throat.

"Lieutenant Shale this is Viktor. It's been some time since we've spoken. The first time we met was at the closure of Operation Stardust when I first arrived at Axis broken and wounded but ultimately victorious. We spoke of battle and of Zeon pride and how it pained us to live under the Earth's thumb. We move now against those that would oppress space, this objective means more than you or myself, it means the liberty of Spacenoids and the freedom of those that inhabit the vacuum. Your soul still burns for Zeon like mine; we do not belong in the purgatory of Axis. I do not wish to engage you but I will destroy you if you oppose us. Stand down and let us pass."

"-Stand down and let us pass!" the familiar voice of Viktor Ramov seemed to echo on in Lieutenant Shale's comm. There was a spark left within him that did burn with Zeonic pride, that did not wish for a seemingly meaningless existence aboard Axis. But his orders were absolute and Captain Jaryk, and by extension any who were party to his escape and campaign were also guilty of treason. Treason, what a laughable idea, that those who sought to continue the fight through any means they could were deemed traitors, yet those who sat at the heads of gold wreathed tables in vast mansions were the 'standard bearers' for Axis.

The men and women of Shale's squadron were all veterans of the One Year War, and he wondered how many of them too felt a pit in their stomachs at arresting a man who had fought so bravely during their war for independence. "You have your orders Shale, carry them out." The cryptic voice came across the comm in Shale's HiZack, he recognized the voice as that of Major Liandra Zarn.

The HiZack shifted in space oddly for a moment, as if acting out Shale's own hesitance. "Viktor, looks like I'll pay you back after all," referring to a time Viktor had saved his life as they fled for Axis years ago. "Negative Major Zarn, we will stand with The Phoenix, Zieg Zeon!" The HiZack turned as if Shale knew what was coming. "Jaryk, Romav, get out of here we'll cover your escape, Carn will be here any second."

Two HiZacks suddenly burst, hanging in space, fires flaring outward from them as they were struck in unison. The faint glint of a line of some 6 Zaku 1 Snipers could be seen coming up from the relative west of Axis. Liandra Carn was not a Zeon soldier in the same sense as those who had fought in the One Year War, her loyalty was tied entirely to the powers within Axis, she would not be swayed by any patriotic rhetoric, no matter how impassioned. Her Dom Gross Beil carried her with extreme speed towards her target, the massive heat saber held at the ready, the additional thrusters made it all too easy for her to evade the fire of the Zeon loyal HiZacks. Her own Rick Dom II squadron was following in hot on her heels, mega bazookas firing in unison as they received supporting fire from the Zaku Snipers. A terrifying display of tactical acumen and well rehearsed savagery. As the thruster assisted giant beam saber accelerated forward and crashed into a HiZack, it sundered the mobile suit completely and immediately. "Make for the Abyssal Fury, I'll hold them!" Shale's voice called out over the comm as his HiZack positioned itself in between the oncoming Dom Gross Beil and the remnants of his squadron. Their HiZacks flitted through the stars as they made their way to the Abyssal Fury. Shale was a good pilot, but the HiZack was a machine built to be a jack of all trades, the Gross Beil however was a butcher designed for close combat in any arena be it land or space. Liandra Carn was a savage opponent and she gave no mercy as indicated in her relentless attack, pursuing the HiZack even as it made evasive maneuvers, firing its 120mm machine gun into the thicker plating of the Dom variant.

Heeding Lieutenant Shale's advice Romav quickly lead his team and the remnants of Shale's squadron back to the Abyssal Fury. Romav could do nothing but look back in sorrow as his friend Shale was finally forced to engage up close with the Gross Beil. Liandra had finally pushed the Gross Beil hard enough and caught the HiZack in range where it could no longer seek to use peppering shots from its machine gun. Shale quickly drew his heat hawk, casting aside his machine gun and firing his thrusters in an unexpected lunge. He brought the heat hawk down, but the Gross Beil as so deceptively agile given its bulk, thrusters firing instantly and taking it outside of the heat hawk's arc. The gigantic heat saber's thruster fired and slammed into Shale's HiZack, the super heated massive blade quickly cutting into the smaller mobile suit. Shale had no means to escape and could only let all know his allegiance over the open comm, roaring out "Zieg Zeon!" before his HiZack exploded.
-------------------------------------------------

Jaryk watched the fighting erupt among the forces loyal to Zeon and gritted his teeth as he watched Shale's mobile suit explode. "darnit Shale," he whispered to himself cursing that his campaign had already spilled loyal Zeon blood. "Is Romav aboard?" Jaryk asked quickly. "He is, sir. Along with two HiZacks from Shale's squadron. Our mobile suits are clear, but the Axis mobile suits are now closing on our position."

"Open fire, all batteries." The order was given now that their mobile suits were cleared of the battle zone, the laser turrets all along the Gwazine class opened fire, tearing into several of the Rick Dom IIs of Carn's unit, and after a moment of sustained fire their thrusters could be seen flaring up and carrying them back towards Axis. "God damn dogs," Jaryk muttered before looking to the relative North. Their sustained fire wasn't the only reason that Carn's squadron had turned tail.

A Zanzibar Class broke the horizon with its guns bristling and lancing out into the darkness of space, tearing after the fleeing Carn Squadron. "Captain Jaryk, apologies for our late arrival, we had some difficulties of our own," the voice was that of Marius Freya a veteran of the One Year War, now a Commander in the Zeon Navy and Zeon Loyalist.

"Good Marius, you're just on time and we're now out of effective range of Axis' mobile suits. Coordinates have been sent to you Marius, we're heading into dangerous waters now. But we'll strike at the Federation right in their hearts." He then switched to an open comm, speaking to the mobile suit pilots aboard both ships. "All pilots, meet me aboard the Abyssal Fury at the Assembly Station and I will brief you on our first mission." With that the Comm went quiet and Jaryk was left to ponder if this was the right course of action, having cost lives already, but there was no turning back now.
*******************************************************

Romav, your words were able to inspire Lieutenant Shale, but ultimately you could do little to help Shale Squadron as they covered your retreat. Report to the Assembly Station to learn about your mission. The sacrifice of your friend has given you both hope in Zeon's ideals but also fills you with sorrow at yet another fire snuffed out.

Garrou: Having had little chance to fight you are left you on edge, report to the Assembly Station and await your orders. Try not to let your brooding and arrogance get in your own way.

The silence hung heavily like the vacuum that surrounded them. It felt like the pause before a shootout in Western movies. The Lieutenant was running through various possible outcomes and none of them seemed that promising. To have to fight fellow veterans did not please him and the thought left a pit in his stomach. Why would those that bled together in the name of freedom be so ill fated as to fight each other for someone else's command? Fortunately he didn't have to as Shale responded appealing to his sense of duty to Zeon.

. . ."Jaryk, Romav, get out of here we'll cover your escape, Carn will be here any second."

And as if in immediate response to the remark the two HiZacks ceased to exist as sniper fire rent them open and in the distance gaining speed that would come close to his Kämpfer was the Gross Beil piloted by Carn, the Headsman of Axis as Viktor took to calling her. A very capable pilot seemingly without any of the moral quandaries that simple mortals held. Her own unit of various Rick suits in unison with the sniper fire turned the HiZacks into mush with ease. Every fiber in Viktor's being screamed out to engage the thrusters and to slay those wild beasts that Axis let loose upon them but the memory of Delaz barking at a wild ambitious Gato returned to his mind. A Baoa Qu seemed like a million years ago now and Viktor was little more than a slightly gifted mobile suit pilot with a pinch more experience than all the cadets that were thrown into the grinder.

. . . For now you must endure. Until the day we can reclaim our glory, you must put your life in my hands. You will follow my orders on this one. Understood!?

While not being psychic in any way Viktor could feel the fury of Gato, it seeped from him like a toxin but he understood the message; and now so did Viktor. He couldn't waste his life on this meaningless battle he had to survive to complete the operation and that meant avoiding the smaller battle.

"Make for the Abyssal Fury, I'll hold them!"

"Space will remember you, Lieutenant Shale. Your burning soul will be the ember of our flame! All units return to the Fury!"

His voice was strong but only in its projection. It stunk of anger as Viktor struggled to keep it from cracking at the end as he turned to leave the Lieutenant. The Kämpfer remained outside the Fury as the other suits boarded and embarked last. He wished he didn't though as he watched the Gross Beil surgically dismantle the HiZack. The final bellow of the blazing soul in the mobile suit was all that was needed for Viktor. They would be the catalyst of a great movement and it would be built on the funeral pyre of Shale, his men, and all the souls that still swam through space like sparks from a bonfire in the night sky searching for fulfillment.

"Zieg Zeon!

And then silence. The flame belched out from the cockpit and the Lieutenant's HiZack ruptured; fire burst from its chest and limbs floated uselessly around it like so many Zaku's sent to their ruin. Viktor watched it all only capable of mouthing a response to Shale. The exterior of the Gwazine sealed and thumping rumbled through its walls as laser batteries from the warship came to life and sent the Rick Doms scurrying back to Axis.

"Liandra Zarn. Before I fall, before my heart stops, I will kill you."

With no one able to see the pilot for the moment he vented anger in the mobile suit striking his knee with a hammer fist before punching the front right pillar between the right side monitor and the forward monitor. His hand ached for the moment and he shook it out before composing himself. He needed to be strong for this, stronger than he had ever needed to be before as the men would need him.

"All pilots, meet me aboard the Abyssal Fury at the Assembly Station and I will brief you on our first mission."

The Mobile Suit's hatch opened and the pilot descended to the deck in a much more somber environment now. The engineers were still hurrying about but already having death's weighed on them. Some if not most of them knew of Shale and it was a personal blow and maybe for some of them this was the first time they'd lost a friend in battle. It wasn't right for him to give a speech here it was best to leave it to the Captain himself. He moved with haste to the assembly area where other pilots had already gathered. Viktor removed his helmet and clipped it to the suit's pack and waited there for the meeting to begin.

"All units return to the Fury!" Lieutenant Romav's voice called out over the comm, Tyrius looked back seeing their Rick Dom IIs being accompanied by two of Shale's escaping HiZacks. The blue Kaempfer of Lieutenant Romav hung against the stars for a moment longer, but Tyrius was gone, lost in a sea of anger for a moment. His Gelgoog's thrusters fired up for a moment as if he meant to accelerate after Zarn's squadron, sending the Gelgoog R momentarily back towards Axis, maybe for a hundred meters or so before its thrusters fired again, propelling it towards the Abyssal Fury, it looked like a bouncing ball that ricocheted off a wall and moved at speed back towards the Abyssal Fury. Tyrius snarled audibly, switching to a private comm to Lieutenant Romav, "We should have engaged them," his voice had a feral quality to it as he spoke, adding in "Sir" as an afterthought to his statement.

Tyrius docked the Gelgoog R, the hatch opened with a mechanical hiss as the air seals opened and he exited into the hanger, looking around he saw pilots he didn't know, the two HiZacks were interesting machines that resembled a Zaku II, though with some clear upgrades, particularly to their thruster arrays. The Kaempfer was an imposing looking mobile suit, clearly of Zeon design aesthetics. The Fury's contingent of Rick Dom IIs was small, numbering only 4, but all together they had a respectable 8 mobile suits aboard the Fury. Another 8 aboard Commander Freya's Zanzibar, they had enough firepower they should have simply taken out the Axis squad that attacked them he reasoned.

His blonde hair flowed behind him as he stormed towards the Assembly Station, looking over to Romav as he disembarked his Kaempfer, "Maybe I was mistaken, but I thought we were going to be fighting and killing our enemies sir," his voice was rife with a certain smug and arrogant tone that was almost intended to ruffle the feathers of the grizzled veteran.
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Jaryk stood at the front of the Assembly Room, a holographic display in the table showed a 3D rendering of Solomon. "Konpeitoh Arsenal, the test facility renamed by the Federation. Originally this was a Zeon research facility, but when we lost at Solomon we lost much of the research that was being done there. As we were forced to withdraw our forces further and further back before ending our flight at Axis we lost several such sites. But it is Solomon that is the most important, it holds great value to both sides. Our first order will be to carry out a strike on a supply caravan that is located here." Jaryk used a slender rod to point at a specific selection of coordinates in the Sea of Solomon, on the Earth facing side of the Asteroid base. "Somewhere in here is our prey, our target contains 15 support Columbus class ships as well as two Salamis class cruisers that likely have a contingent of mobile suits. If our reports are correct, those ships are carrying extremely important cargo, both the raw Gundarium to make new high performance mobile suits..." He paused and looked around the room, "It is also believed that the Titans are transporting supplies for new weapons that can be used to target the installations under Zeon control. We don't know exactly what they're planning, but we must act quickly. Be on stand by, but until then you are dismissed."
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Romav: Hearing the arrogance of Tyrius Garrou do you remind him that you are a superior officer and that he should show proper decorum? Do you physically confront him allowing your anger and the fire that burns in your heart take over? Do you commiserate with the younger pilot acknowledging that you too wish you could have taken a stand in that moment, but remind him that their purpose is one that dictates they cannot sell their lives cheaply. Do you ignore him completely? Do you interact with Jaryk after the assembly?

Garrou: Do you continue your petty complaints or provide some comments of any productive value? Knowing that you are heading towards real combat what is your reaction? Are you chomping at the bit or silently nervous as the last time you really saw combat many of your friends died? Do you interact with any of the other pilots there.

ALL: You are free to move about the ship, The Zanzibar is off limits for the time being as it is captained by Commander Freya and manned by his crew. The pilots of the Zanzibar's mobile suit squadron are aboard the Fury at the moment, feel free to interact with them as you see fit (and make up descriptions for them as well.) The only place you cannot go is into the locked hangar that only Captain Jaryk has access codes to. Do you ask him about what's behind the vault like doors or mind your own business?

Note: Next update we will get into the Sea of Solomon and begin combat operations.

The Gelgoog fired forward and for a brief fleeting moment Romav felt it was all for naught and they were going to get caught up in the battle for nothing but apparently the Ensign thought better of it at the last moment and ricocheted back to the Fury just before the laser array opened up producing a lump in Romav's stomach and then an audible sigh of relief.

"We should have engaged them. . . Sir."

The voice of the questionable Ensign growled through the MS-18. Had he been younger and more brash he might have verbally engaged the pilot on the spot. With Shale and other loyal Zeon souls drifting among the wreckage the Lieutenant thought it'd be improper. He silently fumed about the loss but wouldn't let it show. When they boarded the Fury once more the same Ensign decided to hassle him about it once more.

"Maybe I was mistaken, but I thought we were going to be fighting and killing our enemies sir"

Romav's right hand clenched immediately and he felt the tension as he unconsciously cocked his arm and turned to face the insolent Ensign with a flash of seering hate filling his eyes band a matching frown. Seeing the Ensign's face rife with intent he saw Gato's shade. The confused frustration of a soul that was denied a fight. The battering ram was still beating at the back of the Lieutenant's mind demanding the anger pour through. Instead he turned back towards the assembly area and kept moving hoping that the movement would ease the anger briefly.

"It hurts me too. I want to fight but this is not our battlefield. To die here after Lieutenant Shale gave his life would be a waste of your life and an insult to the very memory of the Lieutenant and the Zeon ideals. No our campaign is just starting. Let us not waste blood in a meaningless fight with Axis. Let the blood be Federation."

He moved on from the Ensign into the Assembly area standing in no particular position and at that time Captain Jaryk took the stage at the front of the room besides a holographic display of Solomon and Jarryk began talking about what the plans were and what they were hoping to accomplish; Viktor shot a knowing glance at Tyrius as if to say 'this is why we didn't fight,' and returned his attention to the moment.

". . . Dismissed."

Viktor lingered watching the other pilots depart with a particular focus on the Ensign along with those that he didn't recognize and likely from the Zanzibar, their partner in this undertaking. There was nothing to say to the Captain though, at least not yet. He didn't want to get caught up in petty squabbles at this time and wanted to get the feel of being back among an armed military unit. After being issued a room aboard the ship Viktor found it with ease and placed his duffel bag on the cleanly made bed. Even though aesthetically it was pretty much the same as the barren room aboard the Axis it had a different feel. It felt like the room a soldier ought to sleep in to him. He stowed the uniform and placed the pictures on the personal desk / night stand. He would add Lieutenant Shale to his shelf of fallen soldiers. An abstract place in his mind for the men and women that fought and died in the name of Zeon.

"Should we have stayed and fought? No we would have had to fight the whole of Axis. . . Another ember of Zeon goes dark. . ."

Within the privacy of his room Viktor lamented; he struck the bed with frustration and buried his face into the pillow to yell. The soldiers needed to see a strong figure but here there was no need for that armor. His thoughts drifted to that of alcohol and at once Viktor stood up and left the room. He was in a warzone again and couldn't think about clouding his mind with the toxin. The soldier replaced his armor and mask and with seemingly self-certain steps strode towards the hangar where the suits were being monitored and prepped. Along the way he noted another hanger which would have normally been inconsequential had it been unlocked but for whatever reason it was sealed shut. Was that the Captains great weapon against the Federation? Why would he see fit to conceal it from his own crew unless he questioned their loyalty? There could be little blame for the paranoia the operation had begun quickly with soldiers that were ignorant to one another and in his case vaguely ignorant to Jaryk himself.

The thoughts took their place at the back of Viktor's mind as he transitioned to the main hanger where the suits were. The engineers aboard other ships and installations he'd been aboard took to referring to Viktor as an old hawk that would rather nest in the hangar next to the mobile suits than in his own quarters and there was truth in that. He preferred to be near the action where men and machines made music as wrenches turned and gears fired. He noted the Ensign's Gelgoog with a degree of disdain having never been terribly fond of the aesthetic design but the HiZacks were attractive and sentimental while still being deadly enough.

"Nervous?" A pause as the Lieutenant turned his attention to face the person that spoke

"About the battle I mean, sir. I know I am."

It was a younger person perhaps the same age as Tyrius if not younger. "You from the Zanzibar?"

"Yes, sir!" A crisp salute like a kid fresh out of the academy. Viktor waved him down, "At ease, kid, what's your name?"

"Ensign Gerald Maten, sir."
"Good meeting you, Lieutenant Viktor Ramov, Abyssal Fury. Want some advice, Ensign?"
The question seemed to take the pilot by surprise, "Of-of course sir why wouldn't I?"
"You never lose those nerves, I'm nervous too. A warrior uses that anxiety to sharpen his senses to make him stronger. People that are fearless are lying or too dumb to understand."
"You're nervous too?"
"Of course! We've got a big task before us and we only have each other. We're on our own in this sea, Ensign. Have to put your faith in your crewmen and in your mobile suit. Is one of these yours?"
The ensign shook his head looking up at the suits.
"No sir mine is still on the Zanzibar."

"Take good care of it, Gerald. That suit will keep you alive."

"Nervous, about the battle I mean sir." The uneasy, scared voice of a young kid, maybe about his own age, but clearly without the chip on his shoulder spoke to Romav. Tyrius sat on a mechanic's bench, supported by thick cabling to raise up to the catwalks that ran around the upper sections of all the mobile suits. He was tending to the paint on the Gelgoog R and couldn't help overhearing the young Ensign from the Zanzibar speak to Romav about his anxiety.

"You're already nervous huh kid?" Tyrius called down from the bench, his uniform was unbuttoned at the collar as he carried out his task of reapplying his squadron insignias and numbers. "How many battles have you been in Ensign....Maten was it?" that reptilian grin returned to his face as he yelled. Grabbing hold of a cable he slid down from his elevated position and dropped down to the floor level of the mobile suit deck just a handful of meters from Romav and Maten. Striding over with a level of confidence that created a dangerous personality for a man so young and relatively inexperienced himself. Despite being thrown into the heavy fighting of the One Year War in his first two missions for the Zeon war effort he had only fought in two outright battles, though to be fair those battles were massive and prolonged actions that certainly tested the mettle of all who fougth in them.

"I'll give you some real advice Ensign, the moment you accept your fear and nervousness, you anxiety...Well, you might as well just hide and wait to die. When you let your fear own your actions, you put your life and the lives of those around you at risk." Maten was clearly getting anxious around Tyrius, a near total opposite of the concerned but firm Romav. "Ensign Garrou, I uhhh..." His pause was too long to hide that he was thinking, not just of what to say, but how to say it. "...I don't mean fear like that, I'm not afraid of fighting, I'm afraid of failing." Tyrius could just shake his head and smirk, "So don't fail kid, seems pretty simple right?"

Tyrius threw his head back his hair falling back into place behind his ears, the way an animal bucks its head when its agitated, and that's exactly what Ensign Garrou was, he was battling down a savage instinct and desire to fight. "Lieutenant, I wasn't intending disrespect earlier, only voicing my concerns about our actions. We let those bastards at Axis get off easy. Zarn and her goon squad might as well carry the Titans insignia on their sleeves." He shrugged, "At least when we get to Solomon there will be some fighting...At least that's what it sounds like." Tyrius spoke of combat, death and violence as if they were nothing more than a regular day in some office cubicle, the nonchalance with which he spoke of death and killing, especially in light of what befell Lieutenant Shale was unlikely to sit well with Romav.

"I hope we get a chance to kill them." His tone was that of a psychopath, without regret, mercy or hesitation, "The Earthnoids I mean, I hope we can kill them all." His 'clarification' was no more settling than his initial statement. It was clear to see that Garrou had some trauma playing on him, something had scarred him seemingly too deep to ever heal. It produced even more questions about his involvement in this campaign though, he certainly wasn't brought along for his positive attitude, but he seemed more and more like a weapon, simple in its design and purpose, but with little in the way of an on/off switch. He was dangerous and he didn't care, and that likely didn't sit well with Romav at all. Tyrius didn't care, or was too self centered to be aware of it, and that too made him dangerous.

"You're already nervous huh kid?"

A familiar voice chided. The ensign seemed to be haunting Romav and it reminded him that he had intended to talk with the Captain about Garrou and to try to learn more about the kid. Viktor internally chastised himself over it and made a mental note to do that. It did seem that Tyrius preferred to listen to the sound of his own voice more than anything else and there wasn't going to be an opportunity to speak short of pulling rank and so the brief monologue continued.

"Lieutenant, I wasn't intending disrespect earlier, only voicing my concerns about our actions. We let those bastards at Axis get off easy. Zarn and her goon squad might as well carry the Titans insignia on their sleeves."

The concern within Viktor continued to grow as the perverted pilot rambled on about the joy of murder. He wasn't behind the seat of a mobile suit now, he wasn't in the heat of battle where he could say it was the moment that got the best of him. He was expressing this as casually as someone discussing their plans for leave and that churned unpleasantly at the Lieutenant's stomach and it had clearly affected Ensign Maten who shifted back and forth while seemingly looking for any excuse to remove himself from the situation.

"The Earthnoids I mean, I hope we can kill them all."

That struck a chord within the Lieutenant who immediately thought of his wife and child sitting on some dusty porch on Earth only to be consumed in flames. No sooner than the smug pilot finished his remark that a hand whipped up with surprising speed. The Lieutenant had wanted to, had yearned to strike the Ensign earlier but didn't at the time. Now the desire was even greater and the damned kid was standing there demoralizing an Ensign who had already pledged to die in the name of Zeon. The knuckles raked across Garrou's face as Romav brought the backhand up and over catching him just below the cheek bone with a resounding smack. Romav was red at this point, his eyes were narrowed low and his left hand was clenched into a fist. If this were any other situation and he knew the pilot more he would have continued with a punch but he barely knew this pilot.

"Don't EVER condemn to death unnecessary innocents! I can't believe that you would dare such words! We are Zeon and we stand for a higher purpose! Not for wanton murder!"

The younger Ensign was still very shaken but the brief flurry of propaganda flowing from Romav brought him a moments reprieve. There was absolutely no point in gloating about murder. Operation Stardust dropped the colony in the Mid-West of North America where the United States used to be and overall an underpopulated area. To willingly damn all of Earth's untold souls to death over a group such as the Titans. . .

"Don't EVER condemn to death unnecessary innocents! I can't believe that you would dare such words! We are Zeon and we stand for a higher purpose! Not for wanton murder!" Romav stood there, his fists clenched and his face red, his eyes burning with anger as he roared at Tyrius, though he didn't pull rank, or hadn't done so yet.

"I want freedom!" Tyrius barked back, anger burning in his voice. "They want all of us dead, they've killed all of my friends, so you're god damn right I want them all dead Lieutenant." He sneered as he spoke Romav's rank, it was almost insulting to him. Tyrius' beliefs burned strongly in him, misguided as he might be, but he restrained himself from striking back at Romav, rather he clenched his jaw for a moment, the red mark from the strike stinging as he tensed his muscles for a moment. "My apologies Lieutenant Romav." He did not wait to be dismissed before giving a very slight bow and walking away back towards the Gelgoog R.

His rage did not subside, rather he felt the fires of A Baoa Qu burn in his soul again, rubbing his cheek as he walked he looked up at the blue Gelgoog variant and flashed a malevolent grin "We'll show them all."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Jaryk nodded his head to the young Ensign who was reporting to him, Maten, he was just barely out of his teens aged about 20. "The Lieutenant got into it with the Ensign, Sir. I don't know what caused it, but the Lieutenant struck him, but Ensign Garrou was certainly baiting him, or at the very least, in my opinion, he deserved to be struck sir." Jaryk paused, a stern glare crossing between them, "And you are capable of judging that? What exactly did Ensign Garrou do or say?" Maten paused, hesitating, but continued anyways, "He said he hoped to kill off all of the Earthnoids, like he fully believes that would be the only way to achieve Zeon independence."

That would be one way to go about it...But that can't be our goal. We want freedom, not a holocaust. "Get me Lieutenant Romav!" Jaryk ordered briskly as he punched the in desk comm in his captain's post.
***************

Romav: Report to the Captain to discuss your latest run in with Garrou.

Garrou: Carries on with his doings, but unbeknownst to him, his fate is being decided.

The corners of Romav's vision darkened as the fire began to consume him. The time spent confined within a prison cell aboard the Axis with a warriors spirit burning with no victory or struggle to fuel it leaving it to slowly eat at him. The pent up angst all at one moment seemed a chorus. He wanted the Ensign to strike him he wanted an excuse to strike the misguided child. He didn't even notice that the other younger Ensign he'd been speaking with had vacated the scene as he was so wrapped up in it and then at once Tyrius stood stark straight, bowed, and excused himself. And the anger washed immediately from him. He watched his subordinate retreat and with the anger left and guilt washed into its place. He looked around for Gerald and realized at that point that he was gone. Had the Lieutenant done more harm than good? The anger wouldn't have done any good for the younger Ensign let alone for Garrou.

The left fist was still clenched and he struck himself on the side of his hip in frustration. Was he the right man for it? Surely there had to be better more capable leaders that could go into battle. His thoughts drifted to the impressive figures he had known in the past. He was barely a shadow compared to them; a capable pilot absolutely but was he a capable leader? The Lieutenant took a shaky step forward and moved to speak again with the ensign-

"Lieutenant Romav!"

Looks like the Captain knows. . .

Viktor turned to face another subordinate, a perfect déjà vu to what just happened. This messenger was in a hasty mood and slapped a salute up and down as if striking a block of wood.

"Captain Jaryk wants you on the bridge immediately, sir!"

"Th-thanks. . . Dismissed."

His steps were purposeful and quick to the bridge but it felt like there were weights dragging at his ankles. So quick into the operation and the Commanding Officer in the field was already physically reprimanding men. That wouldn't sit well; the only comfort was that Romav knew that they needed as many capable soldiers as possible. The Lieutenant chastised himself again for allowing this petty political game again. He'd purposefully gone to his mobile suit hoping that it would give him peace and solitude before the likely most stressful time of the Captain's life he has to deal with this.

The bridge was a flurry of keys clicking and voices murmuring from the various personnel carrying out their tasks and prepping for the coming mission and one thing stood out against all the activity. Of course it had to be the Captain himself who remained statuesque within the captain's chair surveying the scene before them. The walk from the hangar to the bridge wore off some of the guilt and now it was more a general frustration. He had steeled himself and before the captain snapped a flawless salute and spoke one line bluntly.

"Lieutenant Romav reporting, Captain!"

He would not try to justify himself, at least not yet. The captain looked frustrated and understandably so. Romav would take whatever Jaryk threw at him.

Jaryk eyed Romav as he entered the bridge, there was a clear sense of distaste in his demeanor, and he held nothing back from his comrade who he now had to treat more as a subordinate in order to get his message across clearly. "Lieutenant Romav, was I not clear? I asked you a very direct question, did you think you could handle Ensign Garrou? to which you responded?" Jaryk looked at Viktor, encouraging him to think back to their prior conversation. "You said you could, that any man with a fire for Zeon could be molded into a great weapon under your command." Jaryk clasped his hands together in front of himself looking at Viktor with a slight grin.

"So it seems you and Ensign Garrou have had an altercation Lieutenant. I don't care that you butt heads, I think it can be good to have a little bit of a hot shot, but that means it's your job as the commanding officer to get your squad in line. If Garrou said something that annoyed you, or made you angry, I don't care. Your job is to make sure that all of our pilots are properly prepared and ready for combat. Garrou is not an ideal candidate to have, but he is here and he is one of our weapons, just as you are Lieutenant. It's not like you to get so agitated Viktor, seems like the Ensign got under your skin a little. I need you to have a thicker skin then, I can't have my commanding officers striking subordinates and instigating fights even if they are justified. You have an issue, then bring it to me. As for Garrou, what would you like to do, if you don't think you can work with the man I'll have to move him to another squad, but he remains aboard this ship." The last statement was of interest, why would Jaryk wish to keep Garrou aboard the Fury. Did he have some bond to the young man? They had briefly known one another at the end of the One Year War, but it was a fleeting moment and both men went their separate ways.

"Viktor, you're a great soldier, but I need you to be a great commander, you are my right hand in these matters. I need you to unify our troops, not divide them, as much as they do deserve an ass kicking from time to time. Go about disciplinary measures through the proper channels if you must, but don't let yourself be driven to rash action and don't make me hear about some petty squabble like this through the account of an Ensign that is not even from our ship, is that understood?" Garrou, you may be more trouble than you're worth after all Jaryk silently thought to himself. "You are dismissed. I will speak with Garrou, then I will hear nothing more on the subject, you will take control of your squadron or relinquish your command to someone who can. Dismissed"
************************************
Jaryk found the man he was looking for down in the mobile suit hangar, and the somewhat wild looking young man looked every part the overly confident, bragadocious pilot tinkering on the blue Gelgoog R he had piloted for years. Arlen walked with a little bit more pride, a little taller, a little more relaxed on the mobile suit deck. He missed it, and he knew that in some part he saw himself in Garrou, a much younger version of himself at least. But for all the fervor and passion he had as a young man, there was a certain grimness that seemed to haunt Ensign Garrou's footsteps that he never had. A Baoa Qu had been a terrible battle, and Jaryk suspected that some part of the Ensign was still stuck out there amidst the debris, shattered mobile suits and sundered ships. But that didn't matter, and certainly did not excuse his behavior. "Ensign Garrou!" Tyrius jumped at the sight of the Captain out of the corner of his eye, quickly clamboring down from the Gelgoog R's cockpit. Noticing the speed with which the Ensign responded Captain Jaryk nodded, "I see you at least know to show proper decorum to your Captain." There was a tinge to his tone that clearly revealed he was not amused.

"You haven't yet directly violated any orders given to you, but you have certainly been testing your footing with Lieutenant Romav. If I catch wind of any further altercations arising from your actions I will see to it that you are left out with the waste disposal into the colds of space, do you understand me?" Jaryk didn't wait for the Ensign's response, he knew he was being taken seriously, and if he wasn't then Garrou would find out the hard way. "You're not as indispesable as you think Ensign, the sooner you learn your place the better off you'll be." A certain amount of paternal wisdom caught Jaryk's voice, "I understand that you've lost many of your friends to the War Ensign, but we all have. Lieutenant Romav has lost his family and I have lost mine, but we still maintain our dispositions of professional soldiers, get me?" Tyrius could just nod, he hated being spoken down to, but it was all true. Still his anger could only be quenched in the fires of battle, and the Captain could feel it in his bones. "You are dismissed. Don't test my patience again Ensign."

Tyrius walked off to the mobile suit deck to complete his calibrations, using additional resistance to his control pedals in order to give his machine more "feel" of its surroundings. He was still getting a feel for his own surroundings, he didn't fit well within the constraints of such a driven and professional paramilitary. Somehow he almost wished for the chaos of the battles he'd fought in, there was something about those moments that let Tyrius feel aware of himself. Perhaps the smattering of skirmishes since the end of the war had only served as appetizers of sorts to the monster that lurked within him, waiting in the depths of his soul awaiting its chance to taste fear and hatred and war all over again.
--------------------------
At his command console Captain Jaryk could only think back on his interactions with both Romav and Garrou, where Romav was as close to a chosen champion one could find, he had a certain charisma and a credibility that only came with serving time in long an arduous campaigns for Zeon. Garrou on the other hand was like short fused dynamite, with the possibility of taking a toll on friend and foe alike. That same sense is there, the same hate that flowed through that boy at A Baoa Qu. I hope I haven't made a mistake by bringing him along... The bridge suddenly shifted to bright red as warning klaxons sounded. "Sir, we've spotted an enemy patrol! 2 Salamis class spotted on sensory readouts!" The crewman called, disrupting Jaryk's inner thought. "Have they spotted us?" The Captain's authoritative voice rang out over the alarms. "I can't be certain sir, but if we can see them, they can likely see us too." Jaryk quickly pointed to a comms crewman "Get our mobile suits out there, tell the Zanzibar to hang back as reserves. We can't have them knowing our total numbers if we can help it.
-------------------------------------------------
ALL MOBILE SUIT PILOTS SCRAMBLE!!

Romav: You hear the sirens go off and immediately know what to do and begin to coordinate among the members of your squad via comm or verbal communication if you're close enough to them to get mobilized. Given your run in with Ensign Garrou what are your orders for him? What are your orders for the rest of your squadron? What formation or weapons loadouts do you want your team to utilize?

Garrou: You hear the scramble alert and are already in your Gelgoog R making minor adjustments to the handling and operation of your unit. Await your orders from either Lieutenant Romav or Captain Jaryk. How are you feeling before potentially going into combat?

Words peppered the Lieutenant like machine gun fire he didn't waver nor did his hand ever drop to his side. He stood stark still as Captain Jaryk reprimanded him and there was no falsehood in his statements. The remark about retaining Garrou didn't concern Romav, every pilot was essential for this operation and he would need to be a stronger man to guide his team.
As the captain dismissed Romav his hand dropped to his side but the Lieutenant remained on the bridge clearly intent on continuing the conversation.

"Captain, I want to know more about Ensign Garrou. You seem to have history with him but I know so little. I'd like to know what you know about him, whatever file there may be. If he is the lone survivor of A Baoa Qu then he certainly has skill. What's his story, sir?"

---------------------------------

"Hmmm...." Jaryk paused as if contemplating speaking what he should reveal.

"If I am being honest, I cannot claim to know a great deal more than you about Ensign Garrou than you do on a personal level." The Captain was being honest here, he'd spent little time with Garrou before or after their impromptu rescue of him at A Baoa Qu.

"I can tell you what I know, he was given the rank of Ensign moreso out of necessity for his squad to have two ranked officers below their Lieutenant and squad leader before he went into combat at Solomon, they barely saw combat there and were used merely as rear line duty before our full withdrawal was ordered." Jaryk looked at Romav with steel in his eyes, as if he remembered the incident as clearly as it was yesterday.

"At A Baoa Qu, the Ensign's squadron of Cadets. Like so many others they were sent out much too soon, most were hardly competent pilots..." Jaryk huffed, lamenting the loss of so many young men and women barely out of their teens in the final hours of Zeon's stand. "Somehow that man was able to survive, and by the marks and damage to his mobile suit,"

Jaryk looked at Romav, eye to eye to ensure his words held the intended impact, "That Gelgoog R that boy pilots, when I first saw it was missing its right leg and had beam burns all over it. He was in the thick of the fighting. It is confirmed that he show down 7 enemy mobile suits, more so, he fought with a broken machine for at least some of that time."

Jaryk leaned in, his voice quiet, clearly this was only for him and Romav to know. "When I pulled him from the cockpit of that machine, he was almost in a trance, he kept repeating that he would get revenge...I felt something in my bones, there is a fire that burns within that man, but it has torn away at his soul and left him cold to the loss of life that comes with war. I accepted him here because I believe in you Viktor, I believe that you can get him to see the light of nobility and the ideals of Zeon. He could be a strong weapon to possess, but I need you to guide him."

Jaryk dismissed Romav, but as he thought on Garrou, that feeling of blighting cold ran through his body, the same haunting sense he'd felt when he first rescued the boy from his nearly destroyed Gelgoog R. "Was it a mistake to bring him along? I hope not, but too jagged a blade cannot ever be used to make a surgical incision..." Jaryk thought to himself, their campaign would need to be clinically precise, and he began to doubt Garrou could aid them in that respect.

---------------------------------

He had no choice but to leave now. It seemed that the remarks weighed on the Captain and pushing on him considering the altercation would just be a poor decision. He quickly saluted and left the bridge to return to the hangar and to properly take care of the MS-18. So he was one of the sole survivors from those fateful days. He remembered the fire he remembered seeing it in some spacenoids. It was as though without the gravity of Earth pulling on their souls that the people were capable of much more intense passions. Those that used that heat as a crucible created an unbreakable blade. Those without a blade to forge were consumed by the fire. Where did Garrou stand?

Klaxons blared out interrupting the thoughts of the Lieutenant and at once he found himself in a dead run for the hangar. Unfortunately he hadn't caught up with team in time and had to ring out orders from within the mobile suit. The image of the two ships came into view on his heads up display of 2 Salamis class ships normally a simple task but he couldn't afford to be over confident. He secured his helmet into place and the visor with it and locked the harness over his body.

"Two Echelon formations! Ensign Garrou lead Left Echelon with the hizacks and deal with any mobile suits they send out. Take beam rifles, be quick, and draw their fire. I will take the Rick Doms on Right Echelon and will focus on eliminating the Salamis themselves. Doms take bazookas! Stay under the belly and we'll come up behind them. Zieg Zeon!"


The Kämpfer belched out from the gwazine and the force tugged heavily on Viktor's chest and the ships came into view before them, mobile suits came up alongside him and they used the formation to get a good view of the ships before them. "Let's end this quickly! The shorter the battle the less casualties!"

"Two Echelon formations! Ensign Garrou lead Left Echelon with the hizacks and deal with any mobile suits they send out. Take beam rifles, be quick, and draw their fire. I will take the Rick Doms on Right Echelon and will focus on eliminating the Salamis themselves. Doms take bazookas! Stay under the belly and we'll come up behind them. Zieg Zeon!" Romav's orders came over the comm with an authority that could only come from a man with considerable experience and grit. The Kaempfer quickly departed the mobile suit hanger, streaking away from the Fury with its small contingent of 4 Rick Dom IIs armed with 360mm bazookas, two wielding Ex-T2 Beam Bazookas, holdover weapons from the end of the One Year War, but exceptionally effective against ships. Their long recharge times however made them effectively one time use in most combat situations. (You can control when you use the Ex-T2 Beam Bazookas, I'll determine what the effects are.)

Tyrius quickly pulled his helmet down, the cockpit closed, the hiss of the air seal being created in his pilot's suit a welcome and somewhat familiar sensation. It had been awhile since Tyrius had launched in the Gelgoog R in a campaign that really meant something, the last time he had done so....A Baoa Qu...He mouthed the name of the now lost fortress asteroid and snapped back to the moment in front of him. "Ensign Garrou, launching!" His Gelgoog R quickly reached out as it marched up to the ready deck, grabbing its beam machine gun before a docking cable linked to the frame of the mobile suit. Lacking a true catapault, the Gwazine instead employed a different means to achieve a similar end. A cable was linked to the underskirt frame of the Gelgoog R, allowing it to fire its thrusters for a moment, the resistance of being held in place rocked Tyrius in the cockpit and then the lurch forward at full burn as the cable fell away felt like a continuous kick in the sternum. The momentary discomfort was well worth the prize that lay in front of him. Feddie mobile suits were his to destroy.

"HiZacks! With me!" The two newly acquired HiZacks flew in formation behind him, as ordered by Lieutenant Romav, which seemed odd, but this was time for combat, there was no time to think. "Our priority is the enemy mobile suits, we'll let the Rick Dom's deal with the ships themselves. A massive particle cannon blast flew in between the two mobile suit formations, the Abyssal Fury was laying down supporting intermittent fire with its ship to ship batteries. "They're covering our approach, let's move!" Tyrius fired the thrusters on the revamped and highly tuned Gelgoog R, when its thrusters fired at maximum burn he quickly put some distance between himself and the two HiZacks, but still well within distance to coordinate. The flitting of white blue thrusters in the distance made it clear that there would be no cease of hostility here. "Enemy mobile suits, watch your approach," Garrou noted, his Gelgoog seemed to navigate the distance between the Fury and the two Salamis class with the eagerness of a man who hungered for battle. No sooner than his warning came across was there a sudden outburst of incoming fire, the Salamis class ships unloaded with their anti mobile suit batteries, their particle cannons returning fire against the Fury.

Closing the distance, Tyrius quickly unfurled the beam machine gun, the Gelgoog R unleashed controlled bursts of beam fire, aiming at the darting mobile suits in the distance, still just out of range. Suddenly a beam tore across space and only his reflexes saved him, pushing hard on the thrusters, the Gelgoog R leapt downward, the g forces caused him to grit his teeth and clench his jaw as the painful burst nearly knocked the wind out of him. However the artillery beam sailed overhead harmlessly, dissipating into space before it could reach any target. "They've got artillery units out there!" He called over the comm, equipped with only beam machine guns they would have to close the distance, which would be difficult against an enemy with long range cannons. Pushing the Gelgoog R onward, he finally closed the distance to be within range of his beam machine gun. He could see some of the enemy mobile suits and listed them off to his squad "GM Quel," the powerful new mass produced mobile suit for the Federation, "Looks like a GM....With an additional booster pack?" Tyrius voice seemed to show some concern as he looked out onto a mobile suit he'd never seen. "GM Cannons laying down fire, and..." He was stunned as he saw, in Titans blue and black a HiZack, with a rather intricate backpack unit with a reactor powered shoulder cannon. "A HiZack with a cannon?!" He broke the Gelgoog R off its current course, the two HiZacks following closely, their formation was shattered by the high mobility GM he'd spotted, with incredible speed the High Mobility GM seemed to effortlessly catch up to them, firing with its beam rifle.

"****! He's right on me, I can't shake him!" the somewhat panicked voice of Jaka came over the comm, he was a little older than Tyrius, but had never seen combat until recently, this would be his first true campaign. "Hang on, we're trying to get to you!" Tyrius called back, the GM High Mobility had perfectly swooped in and split their formation, leaving Jaka momentarily without anyone to cover him. The Gelgoog lurched hard as Tyrius cut back, diving straight back at the GM High Mobility type, his beam machine gun firing, dangerously close to Jaka "Get the hell out of the way!!" Jaka barely avoided the friendly fire, thrusters burning hard pushing him to the left. But as near suicidal as Tyrius was, he had managed to drive off the High Mobility GM for the time being. As soon as it vacated their immediate presence though, a resounding volley of beam cannon fire swept through space, streaking into their just remade formation. "Break!" Tyrius fired his thrusters, just barely evading the suppressive fire from the beam cannon equipped GMs and strange Titans HiZack variant. Beyal was less lucky, his evasive maneuvers to one enemies fire drove him into the line of fire from another. His HiZack was struck, minor explosions came off the mobile suit's armor. The unit was hardly responsive, and Beyal fought the controls to maneuver, his small shoulder shield was all he could bring up to try and protect his cockpit.

Tyrius brought his massive Gelgoog shield to bare, streaking in front of Beyal's wounded mobile suit "Laka! On Me! Beyal, make it back to the Fury, you can't do any good out here now!" His orders held some weight of command, and with his mobile suit barely holding together, Beyal obeyed, the damaged HiZack gingerly maneuvering across the stars back towards the Fury. Tyrius fired his thrusters hard, streaking towards the line of GM Cannons, firing his beam machine gun as he streaked in, relying heavily on sheer speed to avoid incoming fire. He was effectively disrupting their formations, but with just Laka as his only back up, it began to appear that the High Mobility GM and the Quels would entrap them.

-------------------------
Viktor Romav - MS-18 Kaempfer
4x Rick Dom II w 360mm Bazooka, 2 with Ex-T2 Beam Bazooka

Tyrius Garrou - Gelgoog R
HiZack (Fully operational)
HiZack (Badly Damaged, Returning to Abyssal Fury)
----------------------------------

Salamis Class 1
4x GM Quel
2x GM Cannon II

Salamis Class 2
GM High Mobility Type (Full Bernean)
3x GM Quel
GM Cannon II
HiZack Cannon

The battle joined with haste. The thumping of heavy ship to ship batteries brightly illuminated the dark vacuum for just a moment before dissipating beyond the proverbial horizon. The blue Gelgoog broke off with its two HiZacks and his own sortie of Rick Doms followed in line. Any lingering thoughts regarding the captain or the recently 'disciplined' Ensign were pushed away and only the battle remained. This would be good for the Lieutenant to clear his head and be in a proper fight again and would likely do the others some good too. There weren't petty problems here, just a question of who won and who died.

The pattern of Rick Doms stayed true as they swung low in proportion to the battlefield. If they could drop off from the attention of the two Salamis vessels and strike from the underbelly it'd be quick.

"They've got artillery units out here!

The crackled voice of Garrou erupted throught the Kämpfer's cockpit and matching what the sensors were able to pick up through the minovsky particles they weren't only outgunned but outnumbered too. They couldn't fall back and ambush because their own ships were directly next to them. Viktor pulled up the sensors briefly around them but there wasn't any sizable debris field to use to flank through, at least not obvious at the moment. That meant they're only real advantage was having superior speed in their mobile suits. It would be hard for the HiZacks.

"****! He's right on me, I can't shake him!"

Damn it all. . .

The mobile suits approached the two battleships and cannon fire danced around them. Whatever surprise they may have had was gone and now it was simply time to fight. Likely the enemy mobile suits would fall back to engage the Rick Doms and protect the ships.

"Fettel take charge!I will provide support. Fire the Beam Bazookas at the thruster array the moment you're in range. Use the standard bazookas on the bridge. Out!"

The Lieutenant Junior Grade would handle it. Viktor hadn't fought with Fettel before but knew of his attitude. He was less professional and more laid back than Romav was and that was likely the reason he was still an LJG but he was certainly a capable pilot like hopefully every soldier here. The MS-18 broke from the line with 4 doms and lingered with the bazooka in hand. He'd have to engage the mobile suits to give the Doms a chance.

Out of the corner of his eye Viktor watched a bright light punch forward and realized it was Garrou driving straight for the enemy line. There was no way they would leave this battle unscathed now it was a question of spending the men's lives in the most impactful way. The Lieutenant had an idea that might work and opened a joining com between the two. He slammed the pedals down and felt the compression in his seat again as the suit soared away from the Doms. The voice strained from the force but there was a calm about the voice like a man accustomed to it.

"Garrou! I am with you! We will engage the suits and swing back toward the Salamis and drag them into the fire of the Doms!"

There was no need to explain further. With their enhanced speed they would outpace the Feddie suits except for maybe the high mobility model and he'd have to deal with it. If it was just an upgraded GM then it should be easy. The Kämpfer tore through propellant to meet the other two suits. He had the bazooka now and would aim to take out the artillery units. Bright beams danced across his display leaving only milliseconds to react but a good history behind the controls of the highly mobile Kämpfer lent to more developed reflexes.

"Fettel take charge!I will provide support. Fire the Beam Bazookas at the thruster array the moment you're in range. Use the standard bazookas on the bridge. Out!"

"Roger!" The glow around the massive beam bazooka's muzzle was visible even amidst the back and forth beam fire. The Rick Dom's of the Fury forming a well rehearsed protective formation around their two ace cards. Fettel's voice came over the comm, succinctly "Charged! Firing!" And his finger came down on the trigger. Just as the beam was about to discharge 4 GM Quel's drove into their line, the highly upgraded GM platform being nearly equal to the HiZack in terms of capabilities. Forced to make evasive maneuvers, Fettel's shot tore through space, leaving a wave a crackling particle energies in its wake, but knocked off course it missed his target completely. Without hesitation he cast the weapon aside quickly, saving time instead of stowing it and producing his 360mm bazooka to deal with the incoming GM Quels. "Cover Kayra!" The Lt JG roared over the comm, instructing his fire team to protect their comrade with the remaining beam bazooka.

"Firing!" Her voice was a far cry from the typically soft, feminine tone she normally spoke with. The height of battle and the passion of the cause flowed through her veins and Kayra quickly lurched her Rick Dom left to avoid incoming fire and create a firing lane for herself. The weapon's massive particle blast carried through space like a wave and crashed into the rear of nearest Salamis, explosions rippled off the massive thruster array. One of the GM Cannons that had remained back on rearguard duty seemed to realize too late its proximity to the explosions, firing its thrusters in a futile effort to avoid the cascading ripple of energy that erupted from the engines of the now heavily damage Salamis. "Got it!" Kayra's voice called over the comm, stowing her beam bazooka before firing her thrusters as a GM Quel charged her.

Fettel brought his bazooka to bare and fired two well placed shots, catching the charging Quel just in front of Kayra, giving her only a moment to react and her Rick Dom to fire its thrusters backwards in order to get out of the way of the Quel's reactor going critical. The Quel's in unison seemed to take stock of their situation, now with their ship heavily damaged they did not have the outpouring of cover fire they had previously enjoyed and were now forced into a test of who the better mobile suit pilots were as opposed to sheer numbers and fire power. Though they still had their companion Salamis battleship and the experimental GM variant and the odd HiZack Cannon, as well as their combined force of GM Quels, none of which could be taken lightly. As if to prove that point the GM Full Bernean came streaking through, its beam saber drawn, forcing Fettel to take defensive postures and draw his heat sword. The GM FB pilot was quite skilled, but Fettel, taking on a solely defensive role was able to defend himself well, but it was his fire team that kept him alive, unleashing their concentrated bazooka fire at the GM FB, forcing it to retreat.

The GM Quels however had already fallen back to what remained of their ship and the fully functional Salamis. The GM FB had made a calculated maneuver, the mark of a skilled pilot and capable leader rallying their troops. They sought to get back to their ships and form a defensive perimeter. But to the far side of the further Salamis streaked a trio of mobile suits.
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Tyrius pushed his Gelgoog R hard, the cockpit seemed to shake as he tore through space, Lt Romav was on his wing, "Garrou! I'm with you!" The Lieutenant had called out over the comm, but it seemed distant now. The space that flew by seemed to do so in slow motion, as if he was in a dream when suddenly a beam blast raked across the side of the streaking Gelgoog, singeing the blue paint and snapping Tyrius back to the present. The Salamis bristled with guns and unleashed them all at the incoming mobile suits, forcing them to steer clear. At that moment though an explosion lit up the darkness of space. The other Salamis had been struck squarely by one of the beam bazookas from the Rick Dom team. "Romav I'm going after it!" Garrou shouted without any hesitation his Gelgoog's thrusters fired near full capacity, pushing him firmly back into the backrest of his chair.

The stricken Salamis no longer hummed with gunfire and the only remaining GM Cannon could do little as Tyrius opened fire with his beam machine gun, striking the mobile suit several times. Though the machine gun beams weren't as powerful as a single concentrated blast, they hit in bursts and the GM Cannon withstood the first salvo. But, sensing blood in the water Tyrius pressed on, delivering another salvo, striking the GM Cannon's legs as it moved to avoid the incoming fire. Still the GM Cannon had life, not needing its legs in space and returned fire from its shoulder cannons. Tyrius was struck in the chest, just above the cockpit and his mobile suit shuddered with the impact as if it were going to fall apart. Now nearly upon the GM Cannon he fired another salvo, this time he aimed squarely for the cockpit and the pilot inside. The burst struck home with 3 of the 5 beams striking the cockpit, the beams tore into the pilot within and the GM Cannon ruptured into flames from within, the burnt husk hanging inert in space as Tyrius' Gelgoog didn't even break its pace as it flew past the newly created debris towards his ultimate target. "DIE!!!" Tyrius roared over the comm as he brought his Gelgoog R up onto a trajectory with the bridge of the wounded Salamis. There was a dangerous fire in his eyes as he brought his beam machine gun to target the bridge of the enemy ship, there was a sheer enjoyment Tyrius felt at the thought of killing his sworn enemies.
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Romav: Do you stay with Garrou as his wingman or do you try to direct him to deal with the still fully functioning Salamis? Now that the Salamis is for all intents and purposes disabled, do you still maintain your orders to destroy the bridge or seek to obtain a surrender from the Captain of the ship? What are your orders for dealing with the remaining Salamis and its contingent of experimental and advanced mobile suits?

Garrou: As you hone in on your target what are you thinking of? Can you really condemn those aboard the damaged Salamis to death when they are clearly no longer a direct threat? If ordered to stand down will you listen?
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Salamis 1 (Heavily Damaged, weapons no longer very functional)
4 GM Quel Remaining (Fully Functional)

Salamis 2 (Fully Functional)
3 GM Quel
1 GM Cannon
HiZack Cannon
GM Full Bernean (ALL above Full Functional)

A burst of light like a star exploding came into view from the distance and in an instant the Lieutenant was taken several years back. He remembered the sequence as vividly as some might recall their wedding. The striking moment, the first crescendo of Operation Stardust when an entire fleet was crippled by one nuclear blast. The words uttered with absolute pride stemming from a soul forged in the crucible of Zeon.

"For the rebirth of the ideals of Zeon. . ."

The words echoed in Romav's mind for a moment, a passion swelled within him one that had been absent for some time. He briefly acknowledged the first blast was ultimately a failure deflected by a well-executed counterstrike but the second blast struck its mark and crippled one of the Salamis leaving it hanging dead in space causing a disarray among the troops and just as quickly as that happened his wingman Garrou was off after the crippled vessel completely ignoring the battle and going after the cruiser. Were their numbers any stronger he would have left the fool to his own stupid charge and continued the plan but they couldn't afford to split at this time.

"Garrou! Focus on the functional Salamis! They're the threat now!!!"

His teeth clenched in frustration but the Kämpfer fell in line behind the Gelgoog. One of the 360mm bazookas was in hand and several Quels were now blocking their path and several beams burned through the ether. Tiny micro-bursts from his vernier pushed an erratic but bordering on muscle memory zig zag pattern that had preserved the Lieutenant in the fragile but nimble Kämpfer. The only thing he could do now was to try to eliminate the Salamis as quickly as possible and move on. He fired two rounds in quick succession at one of the Quels that had taken up position between him and the Salamis. Either the Quel would explode or dodge them only to have them strike the Salamis. He turned again and as he turned fired three more missiles in a sweeping pattern over the main body of the Salamis.

Half magazine. . .

His only turn now was to eliminate the crippled salamis from play and to heavily damage the other ship. Hopefully they could take the artillery units unharmed and move on. Any time wasted was time for them to be more quickly discovered.

"Everyone focus on the other Salamis! Take it out of play!"

The LTG would be furious for the mistake but he was an experienced pilot that wouldn't let it cloud his judgment. He'd get it done.