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by Senor_Fun on Wed Sep 07, 2005 7:48 pm
* Nestled between the foamy movements of a brilliant sea and the deserted peaks of the continent's center lay an ocean of pink and orange sands, washed by the vinious sky; dusty boulevards and empty corridors lined its extent, like a city of the Earth. Three tall, proud mobile stuits waded amongst its waves of beige-- yet despite their immense size, were nothing in scope to the immense desert in which they were present. Imagine, if you will, flying from a bird's vantage. Below, these suits, each at a respective height of approximately 16.2 meters, were like large stones or boulders. Now elevate, higher, into the uppermost regions of the troposphere-- you are at just under 9 miles high. The desert, its many crevasses and sand-shifts still visible, weilds little to no sign of the Mobile Suits. If anything, they are only ants to you now...
And yet, these ants are still lost in the middle of the desert-- 'an immense desert.' Although, perhaps "lost," isn't the correct word. No, they clearly knew where they were, just not *why.*
"Smoking isn't going to help your cockpit's temperature," a voice chimed into the receiver of Major Nabura "Kuma" Okada.
"Well reminding me of that isn't good for your health either, Yamada-ko," the officer snarled. He had gotten the nickname "Bear" for a reason.
Silence ensued after that.
Counting paces. There was little else to do. Major Okada knew they were in the correct area by looking at his GPS- shit, he could even *feel* it- and yet he didn't see anything around.
Twelve-hundred thirty-seven paces. 'Well shit, Nabura, it's the desert-- what do you expect to see?' he reminded himself mentally.
Twelve-hundred ninety-four paces. It didn't help he wasn't told what to look for in the mission briefing. His commander had simply told him to reach the area designated on the map and wait for someone to contact him. He could only guess what that meant.
Thirteen-hundred fifty-seven paces. And then... "Major, I've got something moving on my ERGRS, it appears to be--"
"Yes, Suzuki, I already got it. Stand down," the Major cut the other member of his squad off. That was it, a single squad, out here in the African boonies. Major Nabura Okada and his two green ensigns.
The moving object stopped at something over 500-yards. To the unfiltered eye, it was nothing-- a large rock to the birds, just like the three Leos across the dunes from it. However, under the 45x zoom of the Major's battle rifle, it was obviously an Oz suit.
"Ensign Taro-- move to intercept the object. Keep in radio contact. I believe this is our pick-up."
"WILCO, sir. Moving out n--"
"Ensign Taro, why aren't you--" but as Nabura turned, his eyes found that Ensign Suzuki Taro's Leo no longer possesed a torso. The beam had missed the now-expossed power core, but secondary explosions from the destruction of the suit's radiator would soon take care of that. Launching backwards and diagonally, Major Okada swept out an arm to tackle Yamado Ichiro's suit at the chest before rotating to sweep the falling Leo up in his arms. Primary boosters engaged and Major Okada carried his only remaining squad-member to a safe distance. And yet, they were still in danger.
"Major Okada!!-- that was a, a..."
"A beam rifle, high frequency; the mobil suit we saw couldn't have been the shooter, the beam came from aft, but it was from somewhere near."
"Sir, do you expect that this is the work of a local organization?"
"Yes I do, Ensign Ichiro." Of course, he knew it wasn't a local operation. This was something obviously much bigger. And still, they were not safe, here in this empty wasteland where shelter was as hard to find as salvation.
He knew who was pulling the strings. He knew who had betrayed his squad and left one of its memebers dead. Who else could it be, other than the faction he currently worked for? OZ... *
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