Africa is a continent of extremes. You can go one place and find vast deserts that stretch beyond the horizon with neither water nor civilization in sight, while elsewhere you'll find lush jungles filled with both beauty and terrors. And today, it had started with the sun shining brightly overhead, but that was quickly replaced with the foreboding sight of dark storm clouds that began to pour rain all across the land with the sound of violent thunder from time to time. It was in this dramatic shift in weather that a band of looters found themselves trying to dig up parts and technology that had been left buried from centuries old conflicts. They had been digging for quite some time, so long in fact that the hole they dug had large enough to fit multiple mobile suits into it. With the rain pouring down however, the hole was slowly being filled back in.

"Hey, get that mobile suit over here and start digging!"

A Graze that the looters had acquired stepped over to the hole and began using its axe as a shovel. They were so close to finding something, they could feel it, and a little rain wasn't going to stop them from hitting the motherlode. And after a few minutes of shoveling away, the Graze's axe struck something. The miners had been busy digging a trench to try and filter the water away from the center of the hole, and as it flowed out, the head of a mobile suit could be seen sticking out of the mud. It had only one eye, was silver in color, the exhaust vents on its faceplate were shaped like a two "W's" stacked on top of each and stretch from one end to the other like a malevolent smile... and it's eye was ablaze.
The area around the excavation site burned brightly, the jungle set ablaze only an hour earlier. The rain continued to come down, trying its hardest to put out the flames. And nearby, the machine that had previously been buried kneeled on the ground. Around it, many others of its ilk had also sprung forth from the ground. In the distance, explosions could be heard and trails of smoke drifted up into the sky. Small insect-like machines came buzzing through the jungle, their armored carapace containing raw materials that they had... procured from nearby facilities, and broken down for later use. They returned to their masters and gifted the materials which were then taken inside the body and processed. After half an hour, the back of the larger machine, easily 30m tall, opened up and another small machine fell out like a larva. As their numbers grew, they moved from place to place, leaving nothing, but destruction in their wake. The large machines lumbered along like the walking dead, their minions in tow. Their mono-eyes were affixed on a singular goal, a city far to the northeast which they had learned of after hacking into nearby networks.

Mosa worked to wipe the tired from her eyes as best she could. It had been too early when her team was given the orders to mobilize. The details she was given were very scarce, only that there was some signature they were to investigate and report back on. She sighed, knowing it was probably just a bunch of junkers who assembled something they shouldn't have and were now in danger of blowing themselves and someone else up. If people could take care of their technology better, then we probably wouldn't have to deal with half the problems we have today, she mused as she stretched out her arms and gave a large yawn. She immediately snapped out of her daze as she felt a projectile slam it's way into the back of her head.

"What's the big idea!?" She howled as she turned around to see the Captain's own hat had been tossed at her. Captain Ricket's face immediately stopped her in her tracks from making another quip at him. He had a worried look she had only seen a few scarce times before this, and it was never good.

"Mosa... look..." Rickert barely managed to mutter as the Gaw slowly lumbered over the swaths of destruction carved through the forest canopies. Even worse, the direction the destruction seemed to be headed was all towards Caelin Hill.

Mosa leaped from her chair and moved as close to the canopy as she could to get a look with her own eyes. They widened as she saw the extent of everything. Never before had she witnessed something like this. Was this war?

"Only a Mobile Armour could cause something like this..." She began as she started to go through her head all the various designations the Union had listed in their database - Big Zam, Val Varo, Alpha Azieru, Patulia, none of those were capable of carrying out an attack like this without running into some big difficulties.

"C-c-c-c-c-captain. We're detecting strange particles in the v-v-v-v-vicinity. They don't match anything in the database." Ensign Olsen stammered out as Rickert sunk his head into his palm. They weren't even close to enough to handle dealing with whatever this was alone. They needed as much help as they could possibly get to handle this. For all they knew, it was war indeed.

"Get on the comms to whoever will listen. Tell them we've stumbled across something big here. Mosa, you should probably head to the hanger and get prepared. I don't want us to get caught off guard."

"Yes, sir!" Echoed throughout the bridge of the Gaw as the various crew rushed to get to their battlestations. Mosa began a jog from the bridge towards the hanger, but not before grabbing the Captain's hat and tossing it back towards him. She now no longer even thought about being tired, all she could think of now was survival. She threw off her coat as she dashed through the hanger's doors and began zipping up the rest of her flight suit as she headed onto the catwalk and before the cockpit of the Wing Gundam. She plucked her helmet from the seat as she climbed in and tossed it onto her head in a swift motion. One by one she flipped on the Gundam's main systems as it began to groan to life. Slowly the hanger was illuminated by the large sensors of the Mobile Dolls as they were brought out of slumber along with their puppeteer.

Mosa took in a deep breath as the Gundam's displays illuminated with a quick flash. "Alright, Fenice... now's our turn to show how great we really are."

Atariel stood on the catwalk in front of the Astaroth in an outfit she never expected to wear again. The Union flightsuit felt both strange and familiar when she'd put it on scarce minutes after receiving the order from her handler that she would be deployed. It didn't have a rank or even a name tape to hint at her identity but the newly reenlisted pilot didn't particularly care. The single piece garment symbolized another victory over Alfimi and a purpose she had been missed for years. The helmet was just as bland as the rest of her uniform but Atariel still allowed herself a wolfish smile as she slid it on over her head and adjusted it to her hair, bound in a tight bun, sat comfortably inside it. She stepped into the Astaroth's cockpit with a low chuckle that did little to calm the nervous soldier assigned to plug her into the new mobile weapon. He had been looking from the devilish figure of the red mobile suit down to Atariel and hadn't said a word to the shorter woman. She assumed he had been ordered not to speak to her and only keep an eye on her in case the unstable pilot decided to go rogue. The pistol poorly hidden at his back had only confirmed it. Still, he helpfully pulled the oval shaped device from the back of the gundam's cockpit and plugged it into the back of Atariel's flight suit competently enough. After an initial jolt of discomfort from the newly grown and still sore spines on her back, Atariel didn't care.

She had taken the Astaroth out on several training sorties once her spines had been fully grown but the sudden rush of awareness. It came in a pulse that was both painful and pleasant as information surged through the implanted nanomachines and into her mind. Her muscles seized and she growled as the pain surged through her spine and through the rest of her body, the cockpit closing to block her from sight as the Astaroth's eyes flashed a brilliant green. The catwalk in front of the mobile suit retracted as Atariel opened her eyes and saw through the machine's eyes in a sensation that was all too familiar. Just like the flightsuit she was now vaguely aware of, the experience was a comfort and enough to send the weak part of her mind into a panicked fit. After spending so long as Mockingbird, so long as a prisoner inside a machine, the strange new system felt almost like coming home. Warm blood trickled down her nose as Astaroth took a step forward and she licked it away with another chuckle. Nothing mattered now except the mission.

Her Gundam settled into the launch catapult of the installation and Atariel snapped open it's wings and tail booster as the suit crouched forward. She knew her mobilization was a test but she didn't care. She had told Vince she needed a purpose, longed for it even. There was probably a tragedy in how she had come to long to be an attack dog again but Atariel didn't let herself dwell on it as the G forces on her body multiplied and the Astaroth was flung forward violently. Thrusters flared to life and the Astaroth shot into the sky towards the Gaw reporting an unknown mobile armor.

"Captain Larsson! We're being hailed by a Gaw class ship at these coordinates," Ensign Alezo relayed, the Gaw's callsign, her response to the Ensign was immediate "Put the transmission through at once Alezo." Coordinates and operational orders flitted across the screen attached to the left hand side of the Captain's chair, along with a pre-recorded message from Captain Shaw stating they needed whatever assistance could be given by any and all CEU personnel within the sector. She stood and immediately began relaying commands to her subordinates. Talya Larsson knew of Rickert by name and reputation, but had never been within the same field of operations as him or his unit. She knew him to be a superlative Captain and though their hail for assistance could not have come at a less convenient time for the units under her command she would make sure that she sent them some form of assistance.

"Get the hanger bay on standby immediately! I want them prepared to received the Jagaur III, refuel,equip it with detachable propellant tanks, top off all ammunition reserves," the orders were given quickly and without hesitation to Dawson, the chief technician whose gravely voice summarily responded "Copy that ma'am, we'll be ready to have that boy kitted out quick as we can." The comm to the hangar bay cut out as Dawson motioned for his crews to get to work. The catwalks were suddenly bristling with activity as technical crew members hustled to get the loading towers ready, using powered loaders to transport the massive containers containing the belt-loaded 120mm rounds for the Vulcan ShotRifle "Patch me through to Rommel immediately Alezo!" The Ensign was already working the comms, trying to establish communication with their squadron, who were already deployed some ways away.
------
The staccato of the Vulcan ShotRifle roared the instant Rainer knew he was on target, the GM II shuddered for a moment, it's torso being peppered with a burst from the ShotRifle. The unit attempted to turn towards him, its beam gun hung lazily in its left hand, clearly damaged the pilot still tried to get a shot off. Rainer let another burst go from the ShotRifle, this time the GM II staggered and collapsed backwards into the desolate looking and abaondonned high rise building that littered the cityscape. The cockpit was a smoking, cratered mess, Rainer shook his head, the enemy pilot was another confirmed kill, but it was never a pleasant experience. "Why can't you bastards just work with us instead of always trying to upset the balance," His question would never be answered by the dead pilot, whose life, in Rainer's eyes, had been thrown away for no good reason.

"Rommel," the voice of Captain Larsson came over his comm, "Withdraw from zone 17 immediately, return to the JagdHund, you have new orders coming in. Your squadron Delta will finish the operation under command of Lieutenant Commander Volkel and link up with his Alpha Squadron." The orders were given without any sense of hesitation, Withdraw? Why me? What the hell is happening? "I, uhhhh, Yes Captain. Withdrawing at once and will rendezvous with the JagdHund at the given coordinates." The crested head of the Jaguar III turned to its nearest comrade, a Breda II designated '77' and flashed a quick code pulse accompanied by hand gestures so as to not tie up the squad comms with information that would have already been relayed to them. 'Rommel withdrawing, Captain's orders. Good Hunting'

The Jaguar then took several steps backwards, turning about face as it did so, the verniers beginning to fire, a red orange glow erupting from the unit's thrusters as Rainer engaged them, 2 funnels that had been harrying enemies returned to their docking stations on either leg of the Jagaur III as it skimmed along the arid plains returning to JagdHund. The unit was a strange mix of rounded, organic curves and then abrupt angular sections that seemed to betray its origins as a prototype unit that had been repurposed and integrated into an operational squadron.
------

"Captain Shaw, this is Captain Talya Larsson of the JagdHund, we have received your communication. At this time our squadrons are engaged with separatists within Zone 17 and cannot lend our full assistance to you. However, we will not leave you completely unsupported, LTJG Rainer Rommel is en route, ETA 25 minutes in the Jaguar III, it's an older prototype, but a capable machine and he is a competent pilot who will follow orders. Good luck to you Rickert." She used the man's first name because she genuinely felt for him, she didn't know exactly what they would be up against. The Captain let out a deep sigh as quietly as she could to not alert her subordinates of her misgivings about the situation. Rickert had stated he believed a mobile armor could be involved in the encoded section of his transmission. She hoped that Rommel alone would be able to lend some help...Moreso, that the young pilot under her command would survive the encounter. "Good luck Rainer..." You'll need it young man she thought to herself. They were committed to their course of action now. "How long until Rommel is aboard the JagdHund and re-armed?" Her voice had a hint of concern, no commander enjoyed sending their subordinates into the fire.

"3 Minutes out from us ma'am," came the response from Ensign Kole who was monitoring the sensory readouts to track the Jaguar as it raced towards them." The next to chime in was Chief Technician Dawson, the grizzled older man was ever the perfectionist when it came to the JagdHund's contingent of mobile suits. "Captain, we're prepared for the Jaguar's arrival imminently. 6 to 8 minutes tops before he should be clear to re-launch, he'll have enough propellant that he'll be able to push the unit pretty hard to get there in a hurry and still have at least the nominal levels for standard operational times." Larsson nodded "Well done, all of you."
-----

The new operational parameters quickly darted across his screen as he awaited the all clear. To his left was a pile of empty magazines from his earlier sortie, his magazine racks had all been filled up. He'd even dropped the partially used magazine from his ShotRifle and reloaded a fresh magazine. The refueling was taking longer than normal as the crews filled the additional external tanks to capacity to allow him to travel at maximum speeds possible to cover the distance between them and the coordinates where he'd be rendezvousing with Rickert and his unit. The green light finally blipped to life "Rommel's clear to launch," Dawson gruffed over the comms. Captain Larsson then made it official, "Rommel, you're clear, launch. Good hunting."

Rainer was pushed back into his chair hard as the launch ramp hurled him forward from the launch deck of the JagdHund, he could feel the added weight of the external fuel tanks, it added an interesting feeling to the balance of the Jaguar, forcing him to keep the unit's weight forward ever so much to maintain the feel he was accustomed to. He gritted his teeth as he tried to speak, utilizing the frequency for Captain Shaw "LtJG Rommel en route to your issued coordintes sir, ETA, 19 minutes." The hardpacked desert floor was kicked up by the Jaguar as it hurtled onwards, at these speeds, it would be a bumpy and rough 19 minutes, but judging by the smoke he could see rising in the distance, he and anyone else who could help would be needed.

As the 30m tall Ishim moved through the jungle, more and more insect-like Pluma's fell from their backs. In a short span of time, a large army of mobile armors and their minions had sprung up and was now making their way toward Caelin Hill, the CEU's capital. The lead Ishim unit scanned the horizon with its single eye, darting back and forth, scanning for any signs of human life or Ahab Wave reactions. It detected faint life signatures from somewhere behind the pack, but the mobile armors paid it no mind, continuing their march.

The air in Katrinn's mouth tasted remarkably dry. Especially for how humid the autumns tended to be in this region. She wasn't sure if that was due to the HVAC settings in this part of the building, or if had been leeched out of the air by the innate salt levels in every word that her counterpart spoke. Whichever it was, she surmised, it was better not to dwell on The Major's unrelentingly acerbic nature. Her lips were buttoned and her hands were clasped tight behind her back, waiting patiently while the department heads read further in her report. She kept her poise with a fervor bordering on the religious, even when he sighed and let the tablet drop to the desk with a graceless thud, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The sound was all the louder for the emptiness of the room. Virtually a mini-auditorium, it housed little more than a long desk, a set of chairs behind it, and some projection equipment on the ceiling. She and Lael were standing at ease in the center. In the pit, as it were, since the rest of the room bowed upward for ease of viewing. And probably just to intimidate cogs like her having their annual come-to-Jesus. At the center sat the ranking officer over the development squadrons, Lieutenant Colonel Niall Sutherland. His were the first eyes to turn back to her, and it was his throaty tones that finally broke the silence.

"Major. To even call this a disappointment would be generous."
"... a disappointment? A disappointment?!"

The colonel languidly lifted a hand to cut The Major off. Not that it did any good - it never had. Another thud rang out as The Major used the desk for a proxy spanking.

"I HAVE NEVER, IN ALL MY YEARS, SEEN A MORE EGREGIOUS MISUSE OF RESOURCES! In the deepest, darkest, most fetid chamber of this city's overburdened sewers you will not find a bigger pile of OBSCENE WASTE!!!"

She glanced aside to Lael, who simply shrugged back at her. That indiscrestion aside, she was busy keeping the same level of poise for her own good. Katrinn had to admit though, as bizarre as it was to see her senior engineer in prim and proper uniform, watching her actually be quiet and behave was the truly refreshing part. Unnerving, perhaps, but still refreshing. And just having her here to help shoulder the blows was all the moral support Katrinn needed to endure.

"The simple fact is, beyond some minor revisions to your... GN Blade Rifle? And the improvements to the Trans-Am system, there's not really anything here."

"Of course not! BECAUSE THERE'S NOT A FUCKING BRAINCELL BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM! Their heads are emptier than the degeneracy reactor downstairs! I could sit them back to back and play the bongos! You could cut open their heads, stare into the collective infinity of the abyss between their ears, and you know what you'd find? NOT ENOUGH SPACE TO FIT ALL THE GODDAMN CREDITS THEY'VE BLOWN!!!"

Katrinn set her jaw, the better to avoid emoting at all. Talking back would only make things worse. Besides, while Lt. Col. Sutherland was a firm and a hard man, he was still a fair one. In him was both her greatest ally and her greatest foil, a quality she'd admired for as long as she'd known him. Though lately she was starting to rethink the foil part. At least he was quick enough on his feet to get sentences out in the brief span it took The Major to draw wind.

"As given as the Major here is to hyperbole, he has a point. The results are not dissimilar to what they were last year. Except last year, at least, you had the excuse of being attacked multiple times and losing a prototype. I didn't even fault you for turning a billion-credit machine into a modern art installation of finely grated e-carbon lit by the explosions of three separate Tau Drives, because that was a rough night all around."

"And SOME OF US were actually fighting a GODDAMN WAR! You know, the thing you're supposed to be BUILDING THESE FOR?!"

"Nor do I envy the position Warmaster Nox left you in. I don't know if you had some sort of gypsy curse or were just the worst kept secret in the Union, but at least I could understand a lack of major progress. But what's your excuse this year? The most trouble you've had was bad timing at a concert."

"Sir. As my report details, we've been working on two separate tracks. For one we're all but having to invent a whole new manufacturing process for Tau Drives, and for the other we're trying to work around the limits of the currently available materials."

"All of which you could do with a power socket and some cables!! FOR WHAT PURPOSE do you require A 20 METER FOLDING DODEKAGRAM TO STICK IT IN?!!!"

A snappy retort welled on the tip of her tongue. And died a quiet death as a staff sergeant quietly let herself into the room, providing just enough distraction for her better angels to assert themselves. He knew the stated purpose - it was at the top of the very document the desk had been paddled with. Simply sounding that off verbally wouldn't help the matter, she mused, but what else was there? It wasn't her fault victory over the Guard had handed the Union a ready-made production unit when the 41st's Taus were still glorified truck bombs. But that didn't mean their work lacked purpose, or that her insights weren't of value. The Warmaster at least had understood that. Her fingers tightened around each other, one fist squeezing its mate. For several overlong moments, an uncomfortable silence prevailed.

"... listen, Major, " her counterpart said, while Sutherland looked over the tablet the SSG had handed him, "I don't need to remind you of the position we're in. We lost a lot of good people, and a lot of good machines at the moon. We're still rebuilding from those losses, and we're still trying to do it while the rest of the world throws everything it has at us. For the resources that go into even one of your 'Stars' we could make a whole squad of GN-Xs! We do not have the time - or money! - for decade-long fishing expeditions just so some zipper-suited sun god like yourself can sit on some... some... THRONE OF SWORDS!!!"

"I understand that sir. But with respect, the Warmaster-"

"IS NOT HERE!"

"No! But he entrusted me with both the resources and facilities to try to push the limits of the GN Drive!"

"And you've done that! And it's commendable! But from what I see in this report you've reached your limits! And I don't need to tell you, either, that defensive technology to counter the GN Drive is on the rise! So I have to wonder, Major - your suit has a lot of spikes, but DOES IT HAVE A POINT?!!"

Eyes locked forward, Katrinn grudgingly intoned the words at the top of her report, "A versatile, rapid-response unit for aerospace interception and interdiction."

"But here's the thing Major! We have new armor technology that could invalidate ranged beam projection! We have bombers! We have interceptors! We have the VASTLY more efficient GN-XIII for raw power! WHAT! SPECIFICALLY! Does the Star do, that none of these others do, that -justifies- what we're spending on it?!!"

"Sir," she replied crisply, curtly. "If my team had actually been at the moon. I have every confidence the performance of the Star would have saved lives."

"HAVING A HUNDRED 00'S WOULD HAVE DONE THAT!! AND AN ARMY OF WILLOWY BLONDES TO OPERATE THEM!! And hey, if we had them back during the Cataclysm, maybe we wouldn't have had such a hard time reestablishing order! But you know what? THIS ISN'T SOME FUCKING CARTOON!! We have to live in the REAL world! Plus, might I add, Lt. Mikkelson actually took on seven of those fauna-fanatics at once, - SEVEN! Without smashing his unit into a fine powder on the side of a mountain. So one last time, Major. Why should we not just court martial you here and now, for GROSS DERELICTION OF DUTY?!!"

She had no answer for that. Her eyes turned first to Lael, who gave her a pained grimace. And then to her boots, gleaming in the half-light. Salvation only came in the clearing of Sutherland's throat.

"Well now, Major. Perhaps your luck is turning around after all."

"Sir?"

"There's been a report of activity in the jungle southeast of Sikasso. We already dispatched a flight out that way - the Master Puppeteer, in fact. They're reporting a mobile armor activation, headed this way, and are calling for reinforcements. From the looks of it, there's already a commando team and an experimental Gundam headed their way. And not a one of them sporting a GN Drive."

Katrinn blinked, genuinely perplexed. From the sound of it, the situation was reasonably well in hand. And while she hadn't met them personally, she had noticed the Master Puppeteer's name a number of times amongst the air traffic across Europe. What did any of this have to do with her or her team?

"Sir. Even if my team left right this second, there's no guarantee we'd be able to rendezvous with them before they resolve the situation."

"Oh? What happened to 'high speed interception and interdiction'? Or are those pilots you instructed just slow at lacing their boots?"

"... no, sir. We'll get right on it sir."

"Better hurry major. I don't know about you, but I'd be terribly embarrassed for the Star if it failed to perform here."

She snapped off a cursory salute. Clicked her heels, turned, and calmly made her way to the door as the two men began sparring behind her. It was only once she was out of his sight, with Lael close on her heels, that Katrinn set off into a mad dash for her unit.

The bridge aboard the Master Puppeteer was now beyond a flurry of activity. Hails were coming in from various ships, data readouts being brought up on displays and messages being sent out to various settlements potentially along the path of destruction to get as far away as possible. Rickert slammed his comms into the ground as he finished talking with one ship that hailed him that could only be bothered to send a single mobile suit. Was something heading towards the capitol that little of worry to the forces of the Union?

"Twenty god damn minutes!? For all I know Caelin Hill will be a pile of ash by then." He sulked as the Gaw continued it's path to intercept the Mobile Armours. It was looking more and more like they would have to intercept it solo for the moment. Maybe if Mosa could stall it long enough, the Union would be able to muster something. He didn't know about putting her life on the line again like that. They weren't supposed to be getting into life or death situations like this. This was all supposed to be an easy assignment. He rubbed his temples before going over his data read out once more. It was their only choice.

"Tell Mosa to launch when ready. We're sending her and the Dolls to intercept. Let me know when she's on the deck and patch me through, Olsen."

"Y-y-y-y-y-y-yes Captain!" Tracey replied as she began hailing Mosa and giving her the clear to go.

The hanger began to be cleared out as the engineering crew finished their checks on the Gundam and the Dolls. Mosa took a deep breath as she finished going over her final diagnostic checks and began to activate the Mobile Doll's operating system. Tracey popped up on the corner of her display, giving her the latest on the situation. Mosa simply nodded her head along with whatever she was saying. All she could think about was doing whatever she could to stop that Armour dead in its tracks.


~~MMDS ACTIVATED~~
~~GOOD MORNING, BOSS~~

"Good morning, girls." Mosa said as she flipped on the Fenice's data recorders. She wanted to get as much data as she could on whatever this Mobile Armour was. The Tauruses all flashed their visors in response as the rear hanger door to the Gaw began to open, revealing the African landscape below.

Rickert's face popped up on Mosa's display next. He wanted to make sure she knew in full what she had to do. She could be unpredictable at times, but she had a good heart. He knew she would do her best out there.

"We only need you to try and stall it until we can get more forces on scene. Don't put yourself or the Dolls in more danger than you need to. If possible, try and get it away from any population centers. The brass will eat us alive if we cause too much collateral. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." She replied as her focus was now on checking the connections between the Doll's and the beam cannons to ensure their powerplants were operating at max efficiency. The shotleaders were all loaded with new plasma leaders and hastily mounted to the arms of the four Dolls.

"Excuse me Lieutenant?"

"I mean, yes sir!" She exclaimed just before the deck lit up with the green light for launch. One by one the Dolls simply dropped from the rear hanger, transforming in the blink of an eye to their Mobile Armour modes. Finally, the Fenice stepped forward as Mosa took a moment to collect herself before entering the fray. "Mosa van Rooyen, Wing Gundam Fenice and Marionette Taurus launching! Let's get 'em girls!"

The Fenice took a step forward before letting itself drop from the rear door, the Dolls doing a quick pass before the Gundam landed on the back of one of them. After she had to rebuild the Gundam following her encounter with that mysterious ship, Mosa needed to forego the damaged transformation system and instead try and reinforce the suit's frame as best she could. Using the Taurus as a sub-flight lifter would at least allow her to keep the Gundam operational for as long as she could. The thrusters of the units erupted as the Dolls moved themselves into a diamond wedge formation. Mosa zoomed in on her display to try and catch a glimpse of the Mobile Armour, anything to tell her something about its capabilities. She could vaguely make out some shapes at this distance, but nothing concrete.

"Just who the hell are you?" She muttered to herself as the Fenice prepped the buster rifle custom, bracing it against its body in preparation to fire. She then heard the words of Rickert again - "Too much collateral." Mosa sighed as she realized she wouldn't just be able to wipe the thing out then and there. As curious as she was about the machine and what it could do, she couldn't be her usual self and take stupid risks in the name of curiosity at a time like this.

The flight to the Gaw's position gave Atariel enough time to ease the ceaseless chattering in the back of her mind. With Astaroth's camera feeds projected onto her eyes and the feedback of it's unique system feeding into the new artificial lobe of her brain, the experience of piloting the unearthed giant was eerily close to her time spent as a little black box at the core of a mechanical monster. Some small part of her that she had thought long dead had begun a slow revival during her training with the suit and it whimpered in the dark spaces of the woman's mind at the memory. As the Astaroth cruised through the skies in it's flight form, Atariel mercilessly ground that fear to dust with the same relentless aggression that summarized so much of her character. There was no puppeteer to control her or warp her mind and any chance at Alfimi regaining control had been discarded when Priscus had transferred her consciousness into her new body. She had a purpose now and it was one she was familiar with in a profession she had been perfecting for nearly two decades. The prospect of an enemy she could sink her teeth into provided the spark needed to ignite an enraged glee that burned away any doubt in her mind. It had been so long since she had entered battle with a purpose and even a challenge. Her reintegration with the Union military was by no means guaranteed yet. The veteran pilot smiled widely as her sensors picked up contacts ahead of her and her laughter echoed around the cockpit. This would give her the proof she needed that she wouldn't bite the hand holding her new leash. The Astaroth thrummed beneath her as if it were trying to meet it's pilots eagerness with its own and the unit's thrusters pushed just a little closer to their maximum output.

She passed beneath the Gaw barely two minutes later and finally bothered to hail her temporary allies. It took her a moment to think of an alias, a callsign that wouldn't link her new Union status to her past misdeeds. The name came to her as yhe skeletal red Gundam Frame roared by and the communicated request reached the ship. Atariel didn't bother waiting to see if it was accepted before broadcasting. "Master Puppeteer, this is Tindalos," she said as she fought to tone down the glee filling every inch of her body until it came across as mild amusement, "It looks like you've got an exciting little fight on your hands. I should thank you for the invitation!"

The Astaroth dipped down, bleeding off altitude as Atariel scanned the oncoming hordes and the larger targets scattered among them. The sight didn't terrify her like it might have a rational person but instead only stoked the gleeful rage roiling in her mind. It was a target rich environment and a true test of the machine rumbling around her. However, things went awry as soon as she focused on the large mobile armors advancing towards Caelin Hill. Pain shot through her mind and physical torment followed soon after. Blood poured from her nose in one large spurt as a feedback loop unlike anything she had ever experienced raced through the Astaroth and into the spines on her back. The Gundam Frame locked up, it's thrusters dwindling until they barely provided any propulsion and only the unit's meager aerodynamics kept it from falling straight down. Atariel's view filled with a flashing red warning that chased her into unconsciousness and filled her mind.



The newly arrived Gundam slammed into the ground with a bone jarring impact that threw Atariel against her restraints and slammed her slack jaw closed with enough force to chip several teeth. A thin stream of blood from a split lip joined the longer trail leaking from one nostril as the Astaroth rolled to an ungraceful halt and remained still, it's pilot unresponsive in the dark cockpit.

-

Atariel was used to unconsciousness. Her periods when her mobile suit had been deactivated as Mockingbird had originally been like sleeping, only waking when Alfimi needed her. Over time that sleep had morphed into something different as the fragments of her original personality had rebelled against it's imprisonment so when Atariel opened her eyes, she was not surprised at what she saw. The room appeared to be a small cell made of stone bricks with no door and a single square table at it's center with a chair on opposite ends. The table's surface was made of scorched wood that should have fallen to ash but somehow retained the solidity of it's original form and gouges had been torn out of it as if a great beast had savaged it. Dim yellow light filled the room, though no source was visible, and it seemed to fight against a thin rolling cloud of smoke that clung to the walls and floor of the space. Atariel scowled and glared around the room until her gaze found what she had expected to see: The body of a larger woman had been pinned to the wall opposite her chair, jagged spikes of the same ashen wood impaling it through the chest. She had killed Mockingbird but she had always equated the amazonian body with that name despite how long she had inhabited it. "You're dead," Atariel growled, animosity leaking into her voice was she glared at the limp figure, "I killed you. I shouldn't be here!"

Then something moved behind the deceased shell of her former self and Atariel almost screamed. A looming shadow inhabited the thin veil of smoke that roiled along the wall and coalesced into a vague outline. Hard angles gave shape to limbs she almost recognized and a pair of glowing green eyes made of ghostly fire flickered to dim life a foot above the dead body's head. That was when long suppressed fear wormed its way through the cracks in it's prison and Atariel allowed herself a scream that bounced off the walls of the room.

She wasn't alone.

Surface to air fire? Rainer questioned internally as he saw the newly arrived mobile suit -with an asymmetrical build like he'd never seen- begin to plummet from the sky. It was weird because he couldn't see any smoke trail coming off the unit. Some kind of prototype that suffered a malfunction?. His verniers fired as the Jaguar continued its tireless pursuit across the desert. As he drew closer to his designated rendezvous coordinates he saw his sensory readouts spark to life, multiple signals, not friendlies began to litter the readout. He was processing information at lightening speeds, making seamlesss adjustments to his course as he drew nearer. 4 minutes out...

He was passively scanning visually for any sign of the downed mobile suit, but he hadn't gotten a clear view as to where the briefly introduced 'Tindalos' may have touched down. What's more he hadn't seen any fire from the surface, but as he clenched his jaw again he realized that at these speeds he wasn't going spot them anyways. But he felt something, dark, sinister brewing...Was it that pilot? "You need to maintain control of yourself when you pilot the Jaguar Rainer," Director Maria Klauzer had instructed him, "the unit will allow you to maximize your abilities as a pilot, it is equipped with a Bio-Sensor, which will allow amplify your abilities." His operational history with the Jaguar backed that assertion absolutely, but his mind then cast back to the cryptic warning Director Klauzer also gave him "If you lose yourself in any way,
the unit will amplify that as well. You're capable of handling this machine though LtJG, otherwise you wouldn't have been selected as its pilot" He replayed the last statement in his mind as a mantra for a moment. I can do this, he reminded himself with authority, pushing aside the outside subversive feeling that still permeated the air.

"Master Pupeteer, confirm visual on mobile armors? Send attack vectors and coordinates if able." He breathed through his nose to keep himself calm despite the stress and strain of maneuvering at these speeds crossing the open terrain. He'd begun to hit patches of vegetation as he closed in on the jungle proper.

"That other mobile suit," he searched to recall the name, " That pilot who called herself Tindalos is down. I saw it drop from altitude. No visual of impact sir." It was enough that the JagdHund could only send his mobile suit, but the course of action now would not abide stopping to hunt for the fallen mobile suit.
-----------
"Separatist GM variants withdrawing ma'am, should we pursue?" Volkel's seasoned voice came over the comms, he already had an idea of what the Captain's orders would be though, as he relayed pre-emptive commands via pulse codes and hand signals with his Breda II. His command variant was identical to those of his comrades, the only difference being the head and torso being finished in red. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his beard complimented his features well but also betrayed that he was a veteran pilot, constantly being tested and prodded to see if he could be convinced to serve the Union in another capacity. It was the natural course of things, he would muse to himself, though he had constant reminders that time flew by in his current unit. The Captain's face popped up in the comm of hi mobile suit "Negative, Konrad we're going to need you and Alpha and Delta squads to return to the JagdHund. We're in communication now with command at Caelin Hill, we're going to be moving in to support." Volkel and his teams were already in the process of withdrawing from the gutted remains of the once proud settlement, kicking up dirt and smoke as they fired their thrusters, hastily returning to the JagdHund. The pegasus III class ships own massive thrusters glowed white hot blue in preparation for receiving her mobile suits and relocating to lend more direct support to the situation at hand.

The mobile suit hanger bay was abuzz with every crew possible enacting immediate refueling and re-arming of their contingent of mobile suits as soon as they began to dock in their assigned stations. Dawson's voice clipped over the comms as he spoke while on the move along the catwalks of the hanger bay. "Captain Larsson, we're all acounted for, Delta and Alpha squads all aboard," the grizzled man shouted to be heard over all the noise in the hanger as the last of the Breda units successfully returned to the ship.

Without a moment's delay Captain Larsson motion to the helmsman, "full intercept speed towards Caelin Hill." The massive engines roared to life and the JagdHund set off on its newly designated course, it would place them on a direct intercept course between the mobile armors and the city proper. God speed to us all

Eve was thumping the side of her fist lightly the side of a tire when the call came in. She shifted her hands to balance her tablet atop one arm, then fished in the pockets of her cargo vest for the handset. The screen projection was already lit by the time she had it turned where she could read it, the words it displayed drawing a quirked brow. Audio only, Maj. Katrinn Dunlap?

"Major?" the woman proffered, turning her head just enough to glance curiously across the cavernous cargo bay. The faint sound of thudding feet, rustling cloth, squeaking heels, and rasping breath in the background further stoked her curiosity.

"How soon can we launch?!"

"Uh." Eve blinked, taken rather aback. Her eyes turned to the floor gratings. "We're... doing walkabouts now - you're twenty minutes early?"

"... change of plans, emergency deployment, get the flight plan from the tower, how much longer?!"

"Giiive me five minutes?"

"You've got until I get there Lieutenant!"

The call terminated, and left Eve in a stunned silence. A momentary one, at least, as soon a sigh escape her lips, and her feet turned to head for the Endeavour's cockpit, where the pilots were already running through their checks. They'd all known that once the meeting concluded, there'd be no point in staying in Caelian Hill. Whether they were flying home to continue the project or to clean out their lockers, the return flight to Stützerkopf was still a certainty. Thus, she'd felt, it never hurt to work ahead and be ready to go whenever the moment came. Just not... quite THIS soon.


Presently, Vance found it his turn to fish out his comm stick, giving his fingers a cursory pass with a napkin first. It wasn't hard to find - it was in its alotted pouch on the belt of his normal suit. He leaned back from the chow hall table, settling against the firm seatback to peruse who exactly was interrupting their lunch. His heart dropped just a little to see it was the Lieutenant, which probably meant either an actual problem or some technicality to keep in mind. Flicking his thumb over the switch, the call ID receded, and the holoscreen filled with her slender features.

"Lieutenant."

"Sergeant, there's been a change to our schedule. I need everyone at their stations ready to depart, as soon as possible."

"Yes ma'am. Any particular reason? Where's the major?"

"Right here!"

Heads swiveled at the outburst. There she was, at the dining facility doors, her cheeks just the slightest bit flushed from the activity. She wasn't much the worse for it though - if anything, she was still bristling with kinetic fervor. A fervour she displayed as she, with eyes still locked on her subordinates, presented a sidelong pantomime of running.

"So let's..." she crooned, rather briskly jogging in place for a few seconds, before freezing for the sting, "...go, Sergeant!"

With that, she went. Off like a shot, much to Lael's chagrin. Now that Katrinn had zoomed off, the chief engineer was revealed from where she'd been standing behind her, doubled over to catch her breath. Grudgingly she hoisted herself to full height, curled an arm against her chest and directed a thumb at the major's vapor trail. She grimaced in sympathy to the pilots, even as she silently re-emphasized they needed to go. Now. And then she was gone too, leaving the pilots to pick themselves up and follow suit.

By the time the members of VX-41 had exited the building, their numbers had swelled to nearly a dozen, with Katrinn a great many meters head of the pack. Most all of them scurried up the rear hatch of the Endeavour, bolting for their stations just as fast as their feet could carry them - some groaning for the impromptu exercise so soon after their meal. The Star pilots bounded up the knees and onto the thighs of their units, punching the releases for the glorified tool drawers that passed for cockpits. Below them, ground crew were pulling the cables loose from the Tau drives and retracting them back into the plane. One by one, the Stars floated up on clouds of GN particles and took off toward the coordinates, the vast black wing joining them not terribly far behind.


"Coming up on the coordinates now, ma'am."

"Excellent." Katrinn chirped, just finishing zipping up her normal suit, "Get us in a holding pattern, and have the CTO deploy her probes."

The Endeavour was the flight's stealthy home-away-from-home, at least while still on Earth. Like the Discovery in orbit, it was both transport and forward operating base. The platform for not just ferrying the squad swiftly and silently on the rare occasion they needed to take a field trip, but taking pictures and recording videos of that trip. It was just unfortunate that it had been originally made to tote two Flags snugly, so even managing to still squeeze two Stars inside required careful maneuvering. The Major and the Lieutenant were occupying those units at the moment - the rest of the squad were in formation outside.

Riding high above the clouds, the black wing opened a pair of bombing ports. Per Katrinn's request, these ports now loosed a series of projectiles. But rather than plummeting to a fiery end on earth, they fell a short distance and then jolted to life, joining in the convoy. Laser scanners swept the jungle below, peeping through the vegetation to spy out any changes to the topography of note. In this way, too, they began to track the advance of the machine horde as well, the simplified map of red and green outlines popping up inside each of the Star cockpits.

Grier whistled at the sheer number. Katrinn set her jaw. Just like the cataclysm. Just like the moon. Just like the incident at Hinnom. Once again, it was an overwhelming curtain of machines. If this kept up, they'd have to start thinking about bolstering either their fire rates or their yields for constantly fighting thousand-machine armies. Her musing was cut short by one of the Endeavour pilots coming across her line.

"Major, I'm hearing chatter over the open lines about a downed unit. Looks like it might be that new Gundam you mentioned."

"Is it out here unsupported?"

"I'm not hearing a handler for it, but the other units are reacting to it crashing."

"Roger that." A chance. Perhaps. Her fingers slid over her comm switches. "Tindall. Darzi. There's a crashed unit in the line of fire. See if you two can haul it back for a checkup. The rest of us will cover those two while we try to assess the threat. Understood?"

A collective "Yes ma'am!" came across the lines. Switching one more time, she signaled launch readiness to the transport's cockpit. The long but slender aft doors slid open, and she and Eve's Stars glided backwards, into the sky.

To the rest of the assembled forces, six contacts would presently appear. Six shooting Stars emerging from the clouds, their noses pointed planetward, coursing more rapid than eagles. Switching to open comms, watching the world rocket toward her, she addressed them.

"Master Puppeteer, Maj. Dunlap of the 41st reporting. Sending you telemetry on our current flight-plan. Request same, over."

The sextet kept a wary eye out for the Wing and Taurii as they neared the ground - all of them, in unison, snapping into MS mode once they drew close to where the Astaroth lay. The 41-3 and 41-6 each stowed their rifle into the outside hand, dropping smoothly to the land just long enough to try to hook an arm under one of the Astaroths. As soon as they both had, their drives flared to life again, attempting to hoist the suit along with them, to ferry it back up toward the Endeavour. The rest of the squad holding steady, forming a floating line in the air between the rescue attempt and the mobile armor horde.

(OOC: Setting the total number of Ishim to 6 due to there being 4 players.)

The Ishim continued their march towards Caelin Hill, the number of Pluma's expanding by the minute as they produced more and more from gathered resources. The Ishim were aware of the ships entering the area, but paid them no attention due to their distance. However, the arrival of Gundam Astaroth piqued the curiosity of the two rear Ishim who had been trailing behind the other four. As Astaroth drew closer, it reacted to the mobile armors and plummeted to the Earth. The Ishim were aware of this and changed course in response to the reaction. Their speed picked up until they had entered a sprint. The Ishim's thrusters ignited periodically to give their speed a boost, fueled by their Ahab Reactors. A group of 50 Pluma's split off from the main body to follow their masters. The distance between them and the Astaroth began to close quickly.

He watched them descend from above effortlessly gliding towards the ground below on streams of speckled stardust, the telltale of GN Drives, but the units themselves looked unlike any that he had ever seen, even compared to the other GN units that had been developed by the CEU recently. "Master Puppeteer, Maj. Dunlap of the 41st reporting. Sending you telemetry on our current flight-plan. Request same, over." The voice came over the comms announcing herself as a Major, and Rainer quickly opened a channel "Major, this is LtJG Rommel of the JagdHund under Captain Larsson, I am arriving at your coordinates from these coordinates." His arrival coordinates sprawled across the screen and was sent immediately in order to avoid a potential friendly fire situation. His sensors began to incessantly warn him of enemy signals now, two large energy sources and then a number of smaller signals, their movements kept him from gleaning an exact or even accurate guess as to their number.

The Jaguar's verniers fired instantaneously as soon as it was a thought, between the bio sensor and his own acumen he was perfectly in sync with the Jaguar. He finally caught his first glimpse of some of his allies. He caught a glimpse of two of the units, holding the fallen mobile suit between them and ferrying it away from what emerged from the treeline. The gargantuan mobile armors came through the forest with all the grace of a crash of rhinos, but there was an almost cautious approach from them. They were surrounded by a whirling dervish of smaller craft, but Rainer could feel nothing from any of them autonomous? He had heard of such machines before, terrifying creations best left to the abyss of history, and yet here they were to ravage the cradle of humanity again.

Rainer took a soft breath in through hi nostrils and closed his eyes, once more repeating the mantra to himself "You can do this", as if echoing his sentiment, the Jaguar's thrusters fired brighter for just a moment as the Vulcan ShotRifle was seamlessly drawn from its hanger and readied for whatever was to come as the Jaguar streaked into view at the rendezvous coordinates.

"T-t-t-t-this is M-m-m-master Puppeteer, sending d-d-d-d-data to you and all units now." Tracey stuttered out as a flustered look washed over her face as she tapped away at the various consoles at her station, drawing up schematics and maps as she sent the data over to the Endeavour, making sure that her encryption was by the book before priming the laser signal. Once that was finished, she went back to answering the rest of the hails from the various Mobile Suits. Olsen made sure to send a feed of the downed Mobile Suit to the Captain for observation, as she also worked to fill Mosa in on the situation at hand.

Rickert took a long look at the strange new Gundam that had just arrived, breathing a sigh of relief as the Union Stars made contact and worked to help the pilot out. It was definitely interesting they were sent to assist without any sort of support, or even identifying what unit they were from. He couldn't help but wonder if this was some sort of special forces that knew more about this situation than Rickert was told. His relief was quickly shattered once he noticed two of the Armours were breaking off from the main group, and heading directly towards the downed Suit His eyes widened as the swarm of smaller machines began to close the gap between them and Tindalos. Rickert immediately grabbed a hold of the comms system and sent a hail to all the nearby units. Even if this message was intercepted, it wasn't anything the enemy didn't already seem to know.

"This is Captain Shaw to all units, they're breaking off from the main pack and heading towards Tindalos!"




Theme: Mosa heard the chatter ringing through her helmet as the Fenice and Dolls continued their frenzied pursuit towards the main bulk of the Mobile Armour forces. As much as she wanted to go assist with the downed machine, she knew if she didn't engage the main pack, they would reach Caelin Hill and the city would be razed just like the jungle they had seemingly eviscerated. Her left hand quickly shifted from the Suit's controls to the data console, typing in a flurry of commands to the computer and transmitting them for her squad. One by one the data transfer pushed to the Taurii as they quickly chanted back in unison to their commander.

"Yes boss!"

Just as soon as the girls sounded off, the Taurus broke off from their tight formation, each positioning itself to strike the Mobile Armours from multiple angles. Mosa pressed on the controls as the machines broke apart, the Fenice gracefully falling from the back of the unit it was flying with, as the wing binder extended itself to its full wing span and her thrusters roared in a quick explosion of fuel. She grimaced slightly at the initial push of the G-Forces as she worked to focus her eyes on the targeting system as the HUD illuminated on her helmet.

"It's now or never..." She muttered to herself as her finger pressed the trigger. With the precision only automation could provide, the Fenice along with the Dolls each gave a quick shot of their beam rifle and cannons at the largest concentration of the mysterious Mobile Armours. It didn't matter if they scored a direct hit or not, all Mosa wanted to do was get them off their hell beaten path. She couldn't be scared now.

Atariel was entirely unaware of the possible doom advancing on her rescuers. The unhinged woman had retreated to the wall opposite the looming shadow in her manufactured dreamscape. She was pressed flat against the rough stone and didn't dare move as she stared up at the glowing green eyes that watched her from the shadows above her deceased alter ego. Silence reigned in the small space as the unknown entity regarded her, broken only by her ragged panting, and she couldn't tell just how long had passed since her retreat from the demon. A primal fear roared through her mind and all she could focus on was escaping whatever the thing on the wall was. Her eyes darted around the room searching for a door she knew didn't exist. She had originally trapped Mockingbird in this cell and worn the false construct down, haunting her almost exactly like this new specter was haunting her, and that familiarity was the driving force behind her almost irrational panic. An eternity seemed to past before either occupant moved and Atariel felt the familiar anger flicker to life as the glowing eyes remained motionless. "Who are you," she demanded while finally pulling herself away from the wall, "You're not Mockingbird! She's dead. Are you some last trap from Alfimi? One final attempt to trap me in my own head AGAIN!?"
Atariel stormed forward and slammed her hands onto the ashen table as she roared her defiance up at the figure to drown out the fear she had sworn never to feel again. Her fear had held her back, made her weak, and it would not weigh her down again. Her fingers dug into the burned table and small jets of ash spewed around them as cracks raced along the ruined surface. The woman's fury only grew as the angular form in the shadows remained silent and its glowing green eyes remained indifferent to the woman's outrage. Frustration, fear, and anger made Atariel's voice unsteady as she screamed up at the figure.

"TELL ME WHO YOU ARE!"

The figure stepped out of the wall and shadows coalesced to form a vaguely humanoid body capped by an angular head. The two ashen horns that swept back from the demon's head nearly scraped the ceiling as it too stepped up to the table and laid one hand made of constantly shifting ash onto the surface. It towered above Atariel and stared down at the woman with glowing eyes that she struggled not to shy away from. It didn't speak audibly but Atariel heard it anyway, a guttural tone that growled inside her own mind with enough force that she could have sworn her bones vibrated with each syllable.

You are not ready. You are too weak, too frail, to fight this battle. I am keeping you safe.

Atariel had expected a threat, prepared for an attack, and her eyes narrowed in irritation at the declaration. The table fractured further as she tightened her grip on it and leaned forward so she could get closer to the amorphous figure to growl, "I do not need to be kept safe."

You are not ready.

She bit back the urge to leap over the table and assault the intruder in her own mind. Who was this shadow to decide what she wasn't ready for. She had been groomed for three decades to be a killer, a weapon to be dispatched by those in charge, and that alone meant she was possibly more prepared for the violence taking place outside than any other living being. Her teeth ground together briefly as more recent events fought their way to the surface of her mind. Her freedom had been spent wandering without a cause or purpose, a trained beast without direction. Wasn't that why she had spoken to Vince to begin with? Wasn't that why she had allowed herself to be brought back into the Union under constant supervision with a sword hanging by a thread above her? Her crystal blue eyes narrowed as she rose to her full, if diminutive, height as she answered the apparition. "Because I am a weapon. This battle is my purpose and I CANNOT fail. I refuse. Whatever price I have to pay, whatever blood I have to spill. The only thing I know in this world is the mission, the fight, and you are keeping me from that because I'm not ready?"

You would pay the price?
The question rumbled through her and Atariel almost laughed. She well knew the price that would be demanded. Injury and, arguably, death were no strangers to her. it made her response simple.

"Yes."
Very well.

The ash that made up the demon's form abruptly broke apart and rushed across the room to envelope her before she had time to scream.

-

"Let me go."

The Astaroth rumbled to sudden life as 41-3 and 41-6 hoisted it into the air and Atariel's deep voice was almost a purr as she spoke to her saviors. The blood that had leaked from her nose had pooled in bottom of her sealed helmet and it created a gradually increasing crimson stain down the front of her flightsuit that made the fabric stick wetly to her skin. The Astaroth's eyes flared with brilliant green light as the suit came back online and briefly struggled against the units holding it aloft while its pilot regained her senses. Voices filled her ears and the telltale bright lances of beam weaponry streaked across the sky towards her enemy. Her eyes darted from the unit on her left to the unit on her right and she growled again as the Astaroth's thrusters powered on with a dull roar that began increasing in volume by the second. Her sensors screamed at her and the display projected into her eyes picked out two of the enemy mobile armors sprinting across the landscape for her. The reinstated Union attack dog grinned and her deep voice was almost a purr as she spoke to her saviors.

41-3 and 41-6 had scant seconds to react before the massive flight booster on Astaroth's back snapped up and flared to life. Their only choice would be to release it or be forcibly dragged along as Atariel launched her unit downwards to slam into the ground. The Astaroth pulled the sledgehammer from its waist, ignoring the blade sheathed inside it, and hefted the weapon in both hands as it began to charge towards the advancing Ishim with an reckless eagerness.

The compiled telemetry blinked into existence on Katrinn's screen - names, registries, an overlay of current positions. Thin lines of projected paths traced themselves over the landscape. Precious little of it caught her eye, however, as her focus was on the curtain of scarabs piling toward the Astaroth. Altitude warnings abruptly punctured her screen with bloody holes, alerting her to pull up or land. Her hand tugged a lever. Her foot slammed on a pedal.

Two things happened in that same instant. The first was that the entire lower half of her Star swung with the crispness, speed, and force of a mousetrap. The second was that the drives cut their thrust, letting the momentum of the spring fling the upper half ninety degrees. The combination abruptly turned the suit into a 68.4 metric ton, rocket-guided football cleat. One aimed straight at an overproductive Pluma, already airborne to pounce on the Astaroth.

*KA-CHUNNNG*

The ringing of metal on metal was drowned out easily in the din. So too were the the clicks of locks letting the forearms unfurl, the loud snap of the rifle being ejected, and the thud of the belly armor back into place. One hand snagged the rifle out of the air, the underslung blades jolting out into place. The arm attached flung itself outward. Within a fraction of a second of landing on the first, the Star had casually knocked the next Pluma in line aside.

The rest of the squad were not quite so brazen as that. Tindall and Darzi had at least engaged reverse thrust to cushion their landing, their free arms hooking under the Astaroth's easily. A moment to heft its weight, cement their hold, and their exhaust roared to life again in plumes of persimmon. As they climbed into the sky, their machines started to fold back on themselves. Their legs and binders keeping in place, while the torso block rotated, and the rifle was returned to its dock. The remaining three presented arms, their rifles snapping open to spray GN beams at the oncoming storm. When it failed, and the Plumas sprang toward where they hovered, the rifles lashed outward as GN swords.

Once the Astaroth had been cleared away, Katrinn flared her thrusters, climbing into the air as well. The other Stars following her lead, easing back to keep easy distance with the encroaching throng. They just kept on pelting the machines with beams, watching them plink against insectoid carapaces as so many droplets of rain.

"Dammit... what are these guys made of?" Grier sneered.

"... good question," Katrinn sighed. "Hall! Get a rad reading. Everyone else form up."

The four Stars closed ranks, Katrinn, Grier, and Eve in front and Madara behind. Her Star paused in place, its armored face opening to sweep the area with the shielded instruments. The major queued up a connection to the Endeavour in the meantime, putting a call through to Lael. On the receiving end, the CTO stood with a couple assistants in a compact booth to one side of the hangar, a wall of armored 'glass' sparing them from the currents. The doors on the back of the craft still stood open.The landing sled was still poised from where it had slid Katrinn's suit out moments earlier. To one side a tech was manning the controls to a grappling line.

"Lael, need you check something."

"Busy here! There's a suit coming up, remember? One I don't know anything about?"

"Yeah, but in the meantime, I need your eyes on what these things are made of, they're shru-"

"Major," Vance cut in calmly, "Looks like that sui-"

He was interrupted by a grunt as the Astaroth's engines flashed to life and brought the trio to a hard stop, a blaze of blue and motes of marigold competing with each other. Lael pressed herself against the glass, trying to catch a glimpse, only barely seeing some flecks of color around the corner. The chime of incoming data rang out behind her, readings being transmitted for analysis.

"Guh... Darzi, release!" Vance spat. A few precious fractions of a second, and both machines let go, letting the Astaroth barrel back down through the clouds, sailing toward the Ishim. "Sorry Major, they're head back to you. They musta woke up from whatever issue they were having!"

"Roger that. Get back down here. Lael, rad readings." Katrinn huffed, easing her unit back just a bit more. She could see the beams from Mosa and the Taurii in the distance against the main host, and was not keen to get in their way.

"... fine, fine. Colloid minimal, Minovsky minimal, GN within tolerance. No WaC match either, but there's... something." She shifted aside to the view coming up from the camera drones, one of her assistants already zooming in as best as they could. Shifting back, she consulted the footage being sent up.

"Not really seeing much for light distortions either, so you're looking at some kind of coating or armor layering. Anti-beam, laminate, maybe some sort of powered hybrid like GN composite? There's some kinda radiation coming off them, hang on, I'll call around."

Katrinn could only set her jaw. This was off to a swimming start...

As the main pack of 4 Ishim continued their march towards Caelin Hill, multiple contacts appeared on their sensors. At first, they paid them no mind, focusing solely on their goal. However, this only lasted until Mosa and her unit fired upon them and their horde. The heat signatures were detected by the Ishim who were not keen on the idea of being struck, even if they would likely survive. The Ishim dispersed, tracking the power and trajectories of the incoming beams. At this distance they weren't hard to avoid, but the machines weren't going to stand for such an attack. All four of their maws snapped open, a pink glow emanating from within. The four beam cannons fired simultaneously and were swept across the area that Mosa and her crew were firing from.

The remaining two Ishim continued their full speed charge towards the Asteroth, which had graciously decided to descend to their level, saving them the trouble of going after it. They did not fear the Gundam's hammer. The closest Ishim shot out its tail from behind its back. The tail was tipped with a golden blade capable of slicing clean through nanolaminate armor with zero effort. The second ishim prepared its golden claws and lunged at the Astaroth.

Mosa's eyes widened as the beams simply splashed into the Mobile Armours to little effect, watching as fragments of energy dispersed in multiple directions and the machines came out of it all entirely unscathed.

"No effect?" Mosa muttered as she went through every curse word she could think of. A direct hit like that would have taken out most any other machine. Clearly these were built with some sort of defensive system, but the question was which kind it was now. She wouldn't have the time however, as the Dolls began transmitting a warning signal: there was a large energy source coming from the machines. The Taurii immediately jumped into their evasive systems, thrusters igniting in a full burn as they quickly swapped back into their flight mode to gain altitude from the sweeping beams which passed below their frames.

Mosa took the Fenice down to the ground as the beams swept towards her, the beam mantle ignited and wrapped itself around the left side of the suit for protection. One of the beams splashed into it, slicing itself into two as it struck the beam mantle. Mosa shook in the cockpit as she felt the impact strike, letting loose an involuntary scream as the energy struck her barrier. Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip on the Gundam's controls in an attempt to keep it steady as it was both dropping and taking the brunt of the beam.

Rickert did his best to try and make sense of the data Mosa and the Dolls were transmitting back to the Master Puppeteer. All he could make from all of it was that they would need all the help they could get to put a stop to this rampage. He turned to Helmsman Mohammed Khan as he stood up and pointed a finger forwards.

"Mr. Khan, take us in! Prep the bomb bays for full payload release. Prepare evasive action and don't let those beams near us!"

Mohammed nodded as he pressed on the controls and the Gaw banked towards the Ishim. The thermonuclear engines roared as the bomb bay began to open on the bottom of the aircraft, the gears turning as fast as they could, revealing the massive payload the carrier was hiding. Rickert kept his eyes on the sensors trying to gauge the best time to unleash the full compliment of bombs. His hands clutched the sides of his chair as he watched the Gaw close distance faster and faster as it rolled through the beams and used whatever momentum it could to close even faster.

"Almost there..." He muttered as his hand hovered over the release button. The distance calculated by the sensors dropping meter by meter as the Gaw began to pass by overhead. "Now!"

With a quick press, bomb after bomb began to drop from the belly of the Gaw into the general area of the Mobile Armours. The Master Puppeteer crew wouldn't take a moment to appreciate whatever work they did as Mohammed worked to have the aircraft hopefully escape any retaliatory range.

The Astaroth roared across the ground with an eagerness that couldn't be attributed to only it's pilot and left a trail of disturbed ground and a large plume of dust in its wake. The crimson mobile suit shook violently as the thrust of the flight unit fought gravity to keep it skimming above the surface as it closed on the two mobile armors and their horde of support units. Atariel's smile was tight lipped as she grit her teeth against the incessant vibration and surveyed the enemies arrayed before her. This threat was her first chance, possibly her only chance, to prove to her Union watchdogs that she was well and truly back in the fold. Failure was unacceptable and defeat was unthinkable. She had to show everyone on the field and those watching through the equipment installed in her cockpit that she was the Union's dog once again no matter how she might strain at the leash. With seconds left until the mobile armors closed on her, Atariel spoke over the same channel she had made her original hail with no attempt to hide her manic glee. "Tindalos, engaging the enemy!"

She'd had a plan of attack. To close in and quite literally smash one of the bigger units into the ground. The sudden emergence of the first unit's tail made her eyes widen in surprise and she almost died in that first split second. The Astaroth twisted desperately to evade the spike and only met with some success as the deadly weapon slammed through the long flight unit jutting out from it's back. Warnings flashed through the cockpit as the unit shut down and the Astaroth was yanked backwards by the impact with enough force to slam Atariel into her restraints with enough force to drive the breath from her lungs. A snarl that fit her new callsign boiled up in the woman's throat as the second Ishim closed in, eager to dispatch the Gundam that had eagerly charged to its own death. Atariel had other plans.

The Astaroth dug its heels into the ground with a thunderous slam that left long divots in the earth as it was pulled backwards. It strained against the force, regular thrusters flaring to life as it fought for traction that finally came with a tremendous scream of sheering metal. The first Ishim's tail ripped Astaroth's flight unit from its back and slammed into the ground as Atariel turned her unit's initial stumble forward into a charge at the second Ishim and its flashing claws. She was in amongst the Plumas now and she slammed Astaroth's sledgehammer into one like a golfer lining up a long drive. She felt the impact as it rang up the sturdy weapon and into her suit and heard the dull CLANG inside her cockpit as the smaller unit was driven off the ground and into the waiting claws of it's ally. It wasn't a skilled, unorthodox dodge. That wouldn't have worked. Instead Atariel used the extra distance from the claws provided by the bug-like machine to absorb the second Ishim's blow like a punch rather than the grab it was meant to be. Those claws did gouge into the Astaroth's shoulders, ruining its stubby wings as the tortured scream of metal filled her ears, but the blow knocked the Astaroth away from the second unit with far less damage than the Ishim likely intended. It also bought her time.

Atariel abandoned her sledgehammer as she arced through the air. The discarded block of metal hit the dirt as a long solid blade flashed in the light, drawn from inside the weapon that also functioned as a sheath. A connector on the right arm of the unit slammed into place and indicator lights flashed green inside it's cockpit as the Astaroth spun in the air and angled itself towards the first Ishim that had engaged it. The gamma nanolaminate sword came to life with a vague shimmer around the blade as Ahab particles flooded into it. Atariel turned the brutal punch delivered by her second attacker into a diving lunge at the first Ishim's leg with the Astaroth's sword slashing out to take the unit's leg out just below the knee.

Lael uses her contacts to find out about the Ahab Wave reaction and passes this along to Katrinn. Katrinn and the Stars continue fighting Plumas to keep them off Atariel's back.

The Ishim and their smaller minions were ancient, an unearthed terror named after some of the holiest of creatures, and some small quirk in their code sent a flicker of satisfaction as one of the enemy contacts began to drop from the sky. That same quirk delayed processing times by a fraction, a lost decimal in what could be argued as the strongest cloud processing network active on the Earth, and the beams that burned the sky towards the Master Puppeteer came late. The Ishim began to scatter as the warship's intentions became obvious and vast plumes of African dust billowed out around each unit with a roar of thrusters pushed to their limit as the quartet spread out to prevent a single bomb from damaging them all. Unfortunately for the unearthed war machines, the sheer volume of bombs dropped on the relatively small field assured that all four would be caught by something. Plumas were thrown into the air by the dozens with each explosion as Rickert and his crew turned their section of the battlefield into a hell filled with fire and shrapnel. One Ishim that sought to escape the Gaw's payload by dodging beneath it before it began its run took one of the munitions straight to its forehead and detonated as if it were made of sheet metal while armored shards from its ruined torso scythed through its attendant Plumas. Shockwave after shockwave rocked the battlefield as more bombs impacted, each blast wave a rolling wall of physical force that would have knocked any unfortunate onlooker off their feet. A bomb on the trailing end of the bombardment caught another Ishim in the side and tossed it into the dirt with a gaping hole where its right arm had been while some miracle shot a piece of shrapnel from the final bomb into the last mobile armor's beam cannon like a knife. An angry jet of sparks and diffusing particles shot from the ruined weapon as if the Ishim itself was enraged by the injury. The Plumas circling that unit seemed restless and failed to repair their damaged allies as if the ability for such rapid reconstruction had never existed in the first place.

The three remaining Ishim engaged with Mosa's unit rumbled to life with an efficiency that only programs could. For the Ishim missing its arm that meant struggling to it's feet with sparks occasionally leaping from its joints and falling back for a better angle. Internal logic and an assessment of its combat readiness made the Ishim with the damaged beam cannon rally a horde of Pluma, some that had once been under the thrall of it's destroyed companion, and advance towards the patch of ground where Mosa was predicted to impact. The final Ishim, the only one that had escaped relatively unscathed from the attack save for damaged or entirely missing panels of armor, emerged from the cloud of dust and launched a single defiant beam after the retreating airship. That was all it could do without the ability to fly.

For Atariel and the besieged Stars the fight was a much more personal affair. The Plumas were many but they were relatively fragile. They hadn't had time to completely encircle Astaroth's defenders and the insectoid units could be dispatched easily. It was not an unending tide and weight of numbers only meant so much without the support of the larger Ishim units. Shattered frames littered the battlefield around the violent brawl Atariel's engagement had turned into and only a handful remained of the fifty units that had originally engaged the group.

As for the Astaroth and the two Ishim it had recklessly charged, the fight was a vicious struggle for the damaged unit. For all of Atariel's skill, she was outnumbered and outweighed by the two mobile armors attempting to rip her apart. Her diving slash at the second unit had failed to properly decapitate her target. She had done significant damage to the thing and it moved with a noticeable limp from the savage blow it had been dealt. The Astaroth tumbled across the ground, unable to recover from its impromptu charge, and it was pursued by both units like a dog after its favorite toy. Their tails jabbed at the unit as it rolled and one scored a hit that ripped a crimson armor panel free from the slender Gundam's frame while the other circled to trap Atariel between the pair. The Astaroth regained its feet as it's pilot screamed like an enraged animal, issuing a wordless challenge into a communication channel accidentally left open.