ZAC 2042, March 18th

D-Day D+10, 0610 hours

Bareshia Bay, Helic Territory of the Central Continent

Dallas Triangle Base

Oh damn…Westing thought, deep in his head, This is kinda….wild. Of course it was a strategic failure in Zenebas' part, assuming that there would be infantry retaliation but luckily the Helics had chosen only to use armored forces. On the other hand though, the new Zoids of the Zenebas were easily overpowering the Helic armored forces and several soldiers had already made it to the natural beachhead.

Westing sat in his seat, his fingers and face sweaty as he slowly maneuvered the crosshair on the wide orange screen of the canopy and locked onto crowds of enemy soldiers who were getting shot down faster than hell. He pressed the trigger…and the huge particle cannon sent a wave of energy right towards a crowd of soldiers and letting loose a stunning explosion that hurdled the sand in the air.

A Wardick was beginning to approach his Cannon Tortoise's entrenched position in the sand but and was too close for a particle cannon assault, which would have resulted in exploding recoil.

The two Cannon Tortoises next to Westing's were already targeting it with their smaller automatic guns towards the Wardick but the fish Zoid had already begun burrowing and was now tunneling in the soft sand beneath. Ah, dammit.

A tense silence filled the three Cannon Tortoises for a moment as they wondered where the coelacanth would emerge next…Westing kept full attention now on the ground beneath, hoping for a faint trace…even the slightest tremor to reveal the Zoid's position before…..

KA-BOOM!!

The Wardick emerged from the sands in the trench, right in between Westing and the Tortoise next to him before landing its jaws right on the other Tortoise's head. Westing watched in horror as the sharp, powerful jaws bit through the canopy and deep into the pilot within it while he could do nothing but watch, as the Cannon Tortoise could not move within the trench. Oh lord….no….

The pilot pulled his controls back as the Wardick shifted and then began to tunnel back in the sand before Westing even registered the whole situation. Oh no….I might be next.

Westing gripped his controls hard. Perspiration poured down his face and suddenly he felt nauseous. Damn it, bring yourself together…this is why the others make fun of you, you're setting a poor example for the human race as ambassadors…He closed his eyes tightly and his eyebrows arched, I think Lt. Colonel Luffia puts a little bit too much trust in me. Please don't tell me I'm next….please…don-

Again the Wardick emerged from the sands, this time jetting itself all the way up to the air. In a Zoid-maneuvering feat that only a professional pilot could manage, he shifted the levers and arched the Zoid around, directing his jaws right at the enemy and opened it before pulling the trigger, sending a shockwave of sound.

A sonic blaster?! Westing screamed silently in his mind, remembering it from the lessons on armor-based arsenal he had learned back in the earlier days of the academy.

The shrieking sound was so powerful that even within the encased canopy of his Zoid, Westing could still hear the cacophony of monstrous sounds that when directed upon the Tortoise, shattered the canopy into a thousand fragments which fell and ripped the pilot within aside. "AAAAIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

"I have to get out of here…." Westing mumbled to himself as he unclasped his helmet and wiped sweat off his brow, "Before I'm next!"

Lightly, he tapped the console of the Tortoise, "Sorry." The Tortoise seemed to respond with a low grunt as Westing unlatched the canopy and it slid open. Flicking a switch on the edge of a cockpit, a zipline began to descend down to the ground below and Westing pushed his weight upon it and grabbed it while lowering himself to the sandy trench below.

His pilot-suit's boots crunched on the trench floor and the wet mud began to puddle around them. The rain beat down heavily on his now soaking hair and he dropped his helmet, attempting to cut down on the weight. Unbuttoning a leather pocket that dangled from his belt, he pulled out a conventional sidearm pistol and double-checked its cartridge before setting the safety lock off and cocking the semi-automatic weapon one time.

Faster. Come on, faster. The silent conscience within his head reminded him. The sounds of the battlefield were deafening, almost as bad as that sonic weapon as the rain fogged his vision. Westing walked ahead towards the trench ladder and placed one foot on the first rail before heaving himself up as he began to ascend the ladder.

Time seemed to go on forever. A psychological mirage of battle…Westing added, trying to disrupt his thoughts from the incoming Wardick. He was so close….there were about four more rails up the 7-foot ladder.

Just at the moment, the Wardick burst from the sand again, and this time since he was outside the cockpit, a riptide of sand burst all over Westing. Westing's cry was muffled as his nostrils, suit, mouth and eyes clogged with sand while the wet and brown material soaked his whole attire and rocked his dangle on the ladder.

The impact was so strong that Westing felt his shoulder dislocate as he lost his grip on the ladder and soon began falling down. The sand and muck covered his whole vision, draping a curtain of darkness over it.

He heard brief sounds…the crunching of his cockpit, the swift yet thunderous motions of the Wardick…the cataclysmic event that was occurring, and the crunch of his leg bone as he cracked down to the trench below, the soggy mud breaking his fault.

I knew something bad was going to happen…dammit, I knew it!

Slowly, Westing's disoriented mind began to fade and his eyes began to shut while the wave of dust rolled over his cheeks. His fingers grazed against the muddy sand and he gripped it tightly. In his mind he heard an old voice reciting the age-old motto of the Republic.

Peace in the Republic…and peace on Zi…

ZAC 2042, March 18th

D-Day D+20, 0620 hours

Bareshia Bay, Helic Territory of the Central Continent

Dallas Triangle Base

As Helios adjusted his helmet while he laid on the sand at the barbed beachhead, he marveled at the mist of death that surrounded the battlefield. A mere twenty minutes and the dead bodies that litter the beach come in the hundreds! We did not predict that there would only be armored forces to counter but as for that, our Zoids are actually doing rather well against the enemy.

Wiping aside the water that dripped from his helmet and with the aid of the moonlight, he could make a single Dimetrodon spraying its sulphuric acid sprayer across the artillery cannons on the low cliffs that were beginning to retreat. And yet war itself has many faces. Turning his head around, Helios could also see a single Seapanther unit who had collapsed in a trench and so quickly exited the Zoid and began to crawl out the trench, only to be pinned down by enemy gunfire.

Helios grabbed the sleeve of the soldier next to him, "What are our orders so far?"

"Wait, sir!" the soldier replied as he unbuttoned the haversack and pulled out a small portable radio with a faded Zenebas logo painted on it. Setting the radio down on the sand, the soldier plugged in a set of headphones and placed them on his ears before retracting a satellite radar antenna and began to fiddle with the knobs.

Helios waited impatiently, biting his lips in agitation as the soldier's eyes furrowed in concentration.

"Uh-huh, I understand, sir." The soldier said into the phone's mic. He then took off the headphones and slung them on his neck.

"Well?" Helios asked, "What did they say?"

"Wait here until our Zoids manage to take down all enemy resistance or if they retreat before starting up the second phase."

"So what, we just wait here?"

"Yes, sir."

Helios let out a flustered breath as he gripped the laser rifle tightly. Damn it, we're sitting ducks here. What if the machine-gunners…or even the snipers decide to head out of the pillbox and start shooting at us! They can get us from that angle…Again; he wiped water off before looking around at the disastrous battlefield. That Seapanther there…

"Cover me, soldier, I'm going into that Seapanther over there," Helios told the soldier as he pointed a finger towards the entrenched Zoid.

The soldier stared back at him, eyes wide as though he was saying, 'Alright, I'm going to commit suicide, here's my will.'

Before the man could even respond, Helios dropped his laser rifle and with his head down in the rain, began to run towards the Zoid. His clothes were soaked with rain but luckily, they were made of waterproof material so only the exterior of the fabric was wet. He quickly made his way to the edge of the trench and eagerly gripped the railing of the ladder down.

Taking two steps at his time, his mind went back to something his father Sharia had once said…Take one step at a time, but three in a battle. The warning seemed to be put to effect in this situation.

His feet made contact with the mucky basin of the trench and quickly though steadily, made his way across the littered spades, ammunition, and even the half-buried body of a Republic soldier covered in mud. Helios continued his path, soon arrived to a deep section of the trench where the Seapanther resided ahead…the section had shin-deep mud that Helios had to push himself with hard force to even advance slightly.

Dammit, this s*** is slowing myself considerably. Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists tightly, Helios waded his way across the muck before it began to rise even higher to waist level as he tripped down to an even lower basin.

"Ah, f***!" he swore as the muck spurted all across his suit and frace, "F***** s***."

His foot hit something hard on the ground beneath, Must be the Zenebas soldier, and he pondered over for a moment whether he should take the man's dog tags before deciding against it and continued to push himself forward ahead. The basin then began to slope up and the muck began to drip of his clothing as he made his way to comfortable ankle-deep mud though his clothing was now soaked with muck that the rain failed to wash away.

Yes, Helios thought as he saw the zipline, the man left it down.

Grabbing the triple-layer nylon wire, he flicked a switch with his foot and the wire began to zip back upwards into the cockpit. He crawled in as the mud dripped all over the consoles and he strapped the harness on. Pity I don't have a pilot helmet. Helios only had minimum sessions of Zoid training though utilized them in several battles he had taken place in. The Seapanther was a little different though with its cockpit one of those older 'clamshell' types.

The hatch slid down across the bar of red neon that raised up to Helios' knees as the console panels lit up and the cameras on the 'Panther's 'eyes' connected to the screen in the cockpit and the holographic crosshair appeared on the screen. Helios looked down to check the Zoid's arsenal.

The EMZ-31 had a reasonable armament library…its main weapon was a high-precision 88mm beam rifle along with a six-tube missile launcher with two salvos each. The beam rifle had already taken up 23% of its energy cartridge. Along with that was a secondary armament, a two-salvo set of twelve missile pod launchers. A reasonable load-out, indeed.

How do I get out of this trench before I become a sitting duck? Helios wandered as he glanced at the panels for an idea. Firing the beam rifle for recoil was definitely a big no-no. But then again, what choice did he have?

I hope this isn't another ridiculous idea…Helios thought; I've had enough of those. Remembering that the Seapanther could retract into the armored shell, he pulled back the levers as the 'Panther drew back its limbs, the cockpit reversing and covering the missile pod launchers. Next, Helios then aimed the beam rifle carefully a few meters above the ground of the trench level.

RATTARATTARATTA!!!

The sound of machine-gun fire surprised Helios and he glanced up. A machine-gunner was firing his rounds onto the Seapanther! I have to react fast before one of those shells cut into the already weakened metal of the cockpit…Whispering a silent prayer, Helios did a final check and lowered the beam's output before pulling the trigger.

A sizzle of yellow energy hit the dirt with a shuddering force…Helios quickly increased the beam rifle's output and the impact was significant enough to propel the hermit crab into the air, letting loose a volley of shattered rock and dust across the trench as the Seapanther burst out and left a crater in its wake.

"Ah, f***," Helios swore as his (luckily shielded) head banged onto the edge of the confined and claustrophobic cockpit wall. The 'Panther came to a stop in the sand and in the corner of his eye, Helios could see the other members of the 1st Army Division cheering him on and raising their weapons and arms in the air in delight. Action…and reaction. Another quote from his father.

The enemy fire is considerably lessening, and Helios wondered if they were retreating. Pressing the levers, he pushed the body of the 'Panther out of its shell and began to let the limbs of the Zoid crawl towards the beachhead. A single artillery shell whizzed past the Zoid while several machine-gun bullets grazed the side but still Helios kept moving to the beachhead where he finally landed and soldiers began to crawl onto the Zoid's body.

Helios looked around, slightly bemused. Well, who's up for a free ride? He noticed the soldier who had the radio crawl up to his cockpit and began to knock on it.

Helios flicked the switch and rain began to pour onto his already muddy cockpit. "What is it, soldier?" he asked the man who stood, his hands gripping the edges of the canopy.

"Sir," the man began, "Reports state that ground forces are retreating…their air force seems to be playing the defensive now."

Ah, Helios noted in his head, They're afraid that if our air force pushes forward, bombing may ensue…a good strategy but unfortunately their armies are about to be overthrown. "Thank you, soldier for the inform."

The soldier responded with a brief nod as he pushed the canopy down and the clasps connected and let the cockpit shut.

Helios gripped the controls at an even tighter clench now. Across the battlefield he could see that several Dimetrodons were already beginning to walk up the airfield and the other Seapanthers were now unloading their arsenal of missiles and missile pods all across the air base where Republic pilots were beginning to scatter wildly. Well, that take cares of that. I suppose we now have to advance further into the jungle…first, we have to rendezvous.

He looked out to the soldiers who were crouching on the armor of his 'Panther. This would count as mechanized infantry. With that, he thrust his Zoid forward and in the distance, could see now more clearly, the hills that branched out from the jungles beneath.

ZAC 2042, March 18th

D-Day D+30, 0630 hours

Bareshia Bay, Helic Territory of the Central Continent

Dallas Triangle Base, within a trench

Westing Aaus opened his eyes. A sharp and distinct pain shot up his left arm…a dislocated shoulder. Westing grits his teeth. Where am I? Oh, right…Bareshia…the trench….oh lord, the Wardick….crap….He tried to move his right leg but it felt numb, clearly sprained and buried under a few layers of mud.

The rain pattered on his face, letting for awhile at least, a cooling sensation to coat him. The full moon ahead could be seen as the palm trees in the distance beat with the rain. Forcing his neck to turn, Westing looked to the side and could see several Zenebas Zoids were already beginning to pass by. What? We lost?

We are about to venture into a zone unknown, boy.

What? He turned his head around, his neck craning with agony. Who was talking? And yet…why did that voice sound so distinct?

We are the ambassadors of our planet, we are the representatives and we must set a good impression upon any interstellar life we encounter. No conflict shall ever rise between us and them, but instead the unity of hopefully, a universal commonwealth be formed.

How amusing. There was already a conflict involving humans here on Zi. So much for that…and then it hit him. He recognized the voice. His uncle!

We shall aid them, and they us. A whole universe of peace is what we desire…but it needs to begin from the planet. We have not done that…still Earth is in conflict and it is for that that we are fleeing from our home planet for a home not our own. Consider it a sleepover to another planet until the conflict on Earth settles. Until the raging tempest, the blowing cyclone decides to stop…

Closing his eyes, Westing remembered his uncle. He was the only family relative Westing had as they boarded the Global 3. Earth was in a world civil war at that time…it was a horrible time apparently though he could not remember, being around eight during the time the war reached its peak. The Global 3 was only one of the seventeen Global ships of the fleet which had each taken a different jump through star systems until the Global 3 lost its track after the first eighteen point nine seven light years.

Every day, his uncle would educate him on what was about to happen. What they were here from. He took no chance to hide the war with a lighter shade but instead revealed the full blackness towards Westing…he showed the young boy the whole blackness of the universe.

Perhaps that is the source of my bitterness. Westing thought.

With the hyperjump…he had aged about three years before the malfunction and subsequent crash on Zi. Sixteen out of a hundred and thirty one passengers had died, Westing recalled. About eighty-eight percent survived at least.

Think less of the past…and more on the future.

Westing's mind felt a little delusional now. Was his uncle right? Why was he pondering about life before the crash landing when he should be thinking of how the hell he should get to the other Republican forces? Yes, of course his uncle was right. His uncle was always right.

Grunting, Westing rolled himself to the sides and lifted himself up with both arms and the dislocated joint snapped back into place, "F***!" Oh my, I swore.

He then grabbed the side of the trench, his fingers digging into the solid rocks that hid within the dirt and the muck and pushed him up while limping on his good leg. When he was right about to attempt hopping on one foot, a hand emerged from the mud with a soft burst and grabbed his shin.

"Whoa!" Westing cried, surprised as he looked down.

Focusing through the haze of the rain, he could make out the rough outline of what appeared to be a man's shape. Crouching down and taking the pain, he pushed aside the wet slops of mud and wiped it off the man's buried face. A sharp gasp exhaled from the man's lips and he coughed violently. Gripping Westing's sleeve tightly, he began to pull himself up through the mud while Westing aided him.

The Helic soldier coughed out some mud and shivered in the freezing cold but other than that seemed in good shape. Wiping off more mud on his face, he turned to Westing and explained, "Ah, ar-cough-artillery command, a shock wave sent me toppling here."

"You ok?" Westing offered.

The soldier glanced down, "Better than you are. I'm Private Eiden, come on, I'll help you out."

Though his arms weakly shuddered in the cold, Eiden was able to raise himself up the ladder and piggy-backed Westing up. Westing felt slightly awkward, being carried by somebody else but Eiden quickly dropped him in exhaustion when they had reached out of the trench.

While catching his breath, Eiden said, "Come on, I know the way to a close Helic outpost…hopefully the Empire hasn't got there yet…"

Westing arched his body upwards. Well, wasn't it just his luck. Eiden bent down and took Westing's arm and slung him over his shoulder while digging into his pocket for a paracompass which he unveiled. Sliding it open, he held it in the air.

"Hmm…the magnetic pull in the jungle isn't affecting the compass, I don't think," Eiden analyzed, "And since there's no lightning, I'm pretty sure its right so I know which way we're headed."

"That's good to hear," Westing managed weakly before Eiden then abruptly pulled them towards the jungle.

"Come on, let's head off."

"Sure, no problem," Westing replied and his head, added: Thanks, uncle.

ZAC 2042, March 18th

D-Day D+40, 0640 hours

Bareshia Bay, Helic Territory of the Central Continent

Bareshia Jungle (coordinates X 1.5, Y 2.3)

Helios had met up with two more Brachios units to form a small squadron to take down an outpost. The soldier with the radio opened the cockpit once more, much to Helios' irritation as the rain still managed to cut through the thick and dense foliage of the jungle trees ahead.

"Sir, command has just informed all teams of enemy outpost positions. The one closest to us is about three miles off north-east." The soldier informed him as he charted the position on a mud-stained map.

"Hmm, alright, relay this to the other two squads."

The soldier went off to talk to another soldier who was relaxing on the porthole of the Brachios next to Helios' 'Panther as he slid the clamshell shut while the men outside chattered, glad to have avoided death as an atmosphere of relaxation began to drift amongst them.

The windscreen showed Helios that the terrain was now changing. The gathering of leaves on the rock faded away for a misty swamp which featured huge mangrove trees whose roots limited some Zoid movement and murky waters which reached about halfway up the Sea Panther. Perfect environment for the three amphibious Zoids, by any means.

This certainly is a nice change…considering the rain doesn't affect us anymore. Helios thought, trying to see the brighter side for a change though he had to adjust the optics' brightness a few settings higher to cut through the mist.

The Brachios units turned their headlights on to cut through the fog and illuminate the way for Helios and he could sense that the men were now starting to tense up…this was the perfect spot for an enemy ambush and being out in the open in such an….almost blind environment was probably not that good of an idea.

The cockpit hatch got a knocking sound and Helios grumbled softly to himself as it slid open. There it was, radio man again.

"Sir, radar's not working in this mist so the men are just a bit uncomfortable with being on the outside of the Zoid."

"Well, what do they propose?"

"They want to wade in the water, sir."

"But it'll go up to their f***** neck!"

"Exactly sir," the man reasoned, "It'll be good camouflage."

Helios swore a little to himself before replying, "Fine, fair enough, let them."

"Thank you, sir," then the soldier added, "Oh, and one more thing, there's a magnetic pull, a Lorentz force with the power of around 1.7 Tesla in this jungle sir, it's affecting our compasses. You might want to adjust the settings of the beam rifle."

Helios nodded at this proposal and gave a grudging thanks before the soldier smiled and began to shut the cockpit. Right before he did, Helios asked, "What's your name?"

"1st Class Lieutenant Bobby Marsely, sir," the man replied before fully shutting the cockpit.

Helios reclined back in his seat as he tapped on the keyboard to adjust the beam rifle's power. Stupid swamp and stupid magnetic pull. His mind wandered off for a moment. Marsely…a queer name, that one.

The Seapanther and the Brachios waded off further into the swamp as several soldiers began to plop into the waters as though this was a mere summer vacation…not a full-blown battle.