Suddenly, mechs and tanks all over the battlefield began to explode. A rain of energy based weapons fire fell upon the heads of all the combatants on the field below. The only thing that had save Alpha Phalanxe was their incredible amounts of training. As they weaved in and out of the fire, doing all within their power not to get fried, their minds raced. None of the countrys engaged in this conflict have the technology to create weapons capable of energy blasts of this caliber. Who could be attacking us? The convoy had been decimated in the first few minutes of fighting, along with most of the forces who had rendevoused with Alpha Phalanxe after the fall of Arcturus. Suddenly mechs were landing all around the heavily battered and outnumbered Alpha Phalanxe. "Throw down your weapons or die.". Suddenly a single figure climbs out of the crater where the Polkovnik's mech had been a minute before.

"Alpha Phalanxe, this is Polkovnik Radchenko, my prototype evac pod saved me. We can't win, disengage all weapons systems and exit your mechs immediatly."


Hours later, onboard the American flying fortress called "Ancient Silverback" by it's commanders and the big monkey by t's crew. The F.F. contained well over 5000 crewmen as well as 200 mechs and their pilots and crews. The twin mounted swivel turrets alone could poor enough energy blasts upon their enemies to turn two full regiments into slag in a matter of minutes. Along with these, there were well over 700 mounted turrets, not to mention the 4000 missle and torpedo tubes on board. For the FFs were created to be as effective in space as they were on Earth. After hours of interregation, the members of Alpha Phalanxe were sent ot a large room that held multiple beds.

OOC: FF looks like this:

ooc: SDF 1? shit. we're toast.

OOC: damn straight you're toast. Things get cool from here on out, so you guys chill til I get my thoughts together k?

Zwei was as mechanically calm as usual through the entire interrogation. She looked roughed up, but she didn't seem to care. She was lucky for sure. The Greased Lightning took an inordinate amount of damage from the attack. The left leg was blown clean off and badly damaged. It would be cheaper to construct a new leg than to repair the old one. The PPC and scanners were all fried. The missiles detonated inside their racks and destroyed the shoulders and much of the torso. The machine guns were bent at impossible angles. To say the paint job was completely ruined was a gross understatement. Even though she surrendered and was interrogated like the rest, she didn't speak. Zwei would sooner die slowly and painfully than talk about anything sensitive or classified. Her Master was one of these particular classified things. She simply sat on a bed and examined her room. When she could see nothing special, she went immediately to sleep, as though she was a robot shutting down, willing herself to get as much rest as possible.

As for her personally, Zwei suffered from bruised ribs, a gash in her left cheek that now was covered with a bandage, and she was cleaned recently from the glass in her hair, dirt over everything else, and her clothes were changed to a white tank top and underwear, dark green jeans, and black military boots. Her knuckles and nose had stopped bleeding fairly recently as well. She still smelled faintly of smoke, but it wasn't particularly offensive. In a mere moment, Zwei was fast asleep.

Two burly guards tossed Milo into the room, where he landed on the floor on his face. "Ow." It was an understatement. With effort, he climbed to his feet. "So much for replacing that arm... now I have to replace the whole mech! And to top it off, we're trapped on this flying continent -"
"Fortress," someone corrected him.
"Whatever," he shot back. "We're stuck up here and I don't see any possible means of escape. This sucks." He sat down on an empty bed and crossed his arms. "Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed."

"Well I got both my wings shot off, and took lost a nice chunk of my mechs right side. They should have been more careful where they shoot those cannons." Scott said holding an ice bag to his broken nose, He had smacked face first into the H.U.D. upon landing, luckily he only broke his nose and dislocated a shoulder.

Radchenko walks into the rooming and hearing this says "I don't think they were trying to hit you, else you would be very very dead. But with all the heat sigs on the ground we're lucky they didnt kill you all anyways." He takes a deep breath before continuing, "I spoke with the admiral in command of this ship, one Admiral Killraven. There is absolutely no chance of us being returned to our homes before the end of this war." he waits as this sinks in, Zwei hears this and sits up. "But I have been shown something very, very disturbing. As you well know the USA has taken advantage of the war to increase it's deep space probing and exploration. They recently found evidence of a huge battle being fought 50 billion light years past Alpha Centauri. Both races involved were highly advanced with incredibly powerful weaponry. The defeated armada Escaped in the direction of our solar system. The US government believes that the chances of this armada detecting our planet are extremely high. The USA has been developng ships and weaponry that can operate as efficiently in space as they do in atmosphere. Hence the creation of the FFs, like the one we're onboard now." he pauses to let all this sink in before he continues with "The US government has determined that to have any reasonably good chance of defending ourselves from this threat, they need to unify the planet under flag. They are desperate for highly skilled pilots such as yourselves. The choice is yours, you can either join the USA and help end this war, or you can refuse and you will stay onboard this ship as a POW til the end of the war." He stops speaking and waits for the pilots of former Alpha Phalanxe to make their decisions.

"If they will upgrade the angel, I'm game." Scott said. His voice had a monotone quality.

Zwei stood up, her eyes directed at Radchenko, but seeming to stare right through him. "I must speak with Master about this," was all that she said.

Milo scowled. "Well, if they're so desperate for good pilots, maybe if they'll rebuild my Mammoth for me, I'll fight for them. Goodness knows they've got the resources to take requests, I should think."