The primer-tan Gustav pulled up to the edge of a sloping incline. From the cockpit, Alex surveyed the scene. Brown sandstone rocks were everywhere, usually a bit shorter than they were wide. There was no sign of Team Storm Riders yet, so Alex kicked back for a quick nap.

Ivy, however, had something to say about that, climbing atop the Gustav's dorsal surface and hanging off the radar dish dramatically.

Everywhere we go-oh
/People wanna kno-ow

Alex flicked the external mike. "Ivy."

She ignored him and continued belting.

So we tell them
/Who we a-are

"Ivy."

We're Team Sirocco
/Mighty Team Sirocco

Alex nonchalantly reached over and flicked on the motor for the radar array. A series of muffled curses from above rewarded him as his friend scrambled to hang on to the rotating radar dish. Alex cracked a rare smile.

"Fine, metalhead," belted Ivy from above. In complete defiance of the heat, she wore a painter's smock and a beret, with a thoroughly broken-in pair of white tennies adorning her feet. She hopped down and helped Alex out of the Gustav's cockpit.

"Any sign of the stormies?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking over the lifeless terrain. He shook his head near-imperceptibly, feeling a tingle play down his upper vertebrae. "Nope."

Ryu leans back in his seat as the red Gustav comes to a stop on the battlefield. The inside of the gustav silent except for the breathing of the two pilots.

"Well Vincent you ready?"

Vincent doesn't take his eyes off of the computer screen as he looks over the team data. His left hand moves up slowly giving Ryu a thumbs up. Ryu gets up and walks out of the gustav and gets into his command wolf that is equipped with the CP-04. Vincent's hand moves to the top of the laptop's screen and pushes down on it closing. He stands up and places it in his chair and leaves the gustav getting into his Warshark.

((The battlemode is 0982. The terrain is a desert. This is an official match, and I'm too lazy to type out any RP involving a Judge Capsule. Yay for you.

You have just entered room "chat10363876430544785935."
SPSchneppII: Alex Carrigan:
OnlineHost: SPSchneppII rolled 2 6-sided dice: 3 3
SPSchneppII: Bronwyn "Ivy" Ivesdon:
OnlineHost: SPSchneppII rolled 2 6-sided dice: 1 3
SPSchneppII: Vincent Malvado:
OnlineHost: SPSchneppII rolled 2 6-sided dice: 5 4
SPSchneppII: Ryu Cloud:
OnlineHost: SPSchneppII rolled 2 6-sided dice: 2 2
SPSchneppII: The order is as follows:
SPSchneppII: Vincent Malvado
SPSchneppII: Alex Carrigan
SPSchneppII: Ryu Cloud
SPSchneppII: Bronwyn "Ivy" Ivesdon

Y'all see the order. Blow stuff up.))

Vincent smiles as he lets loose firing all of his missles and his 80mm Beam Cannons on the Malder, before diving to a depth of 15 meters and heads toward the Malder at 150kmph.

"Hmm."

Alex sat back in the cockpit of his Malder, having moved to the designated starting location. Ivy's chatter filled the comm.

"Yeah, big manly name like Storm Riders, think you're all tough, eh? I got three words for y'all: BRING. IT. ON."

Alex pulled a face thumbed the volume switch. Outside, the judge's paddles went down.

FIGHT!

Without a word, Alex flipped a few switches. The reassuring, low-pitched hum of the reverse magnessers filled the cockpit as the instruments came online. The multisensors' readouts mapped out the terrain for him in radar, visual, infrared, laser tracking, and finally a joint sonar/audio detection suite.

Alex trained his laser machine guns on the Warshark and let fly with a constant stream of laserfire, raking across the fish's back, and thus also through the path of the dumbfired missiles. He, of course, left his shell closed in order to protect himself for the moment. Of course, it wasn't long before the Shark dove underground, at which time the audio detection came into play.

He laid off the machine gun fire once the Shark burrowed (at the speed missiles travel, they'd have hit him or be shot down by now), cracking the forward pop-out section ever so slightly, enough to give the mortar leeway to fire, but also enough that it was nearly impossible to shoot inside. While this would increase the mortars' travel time, Alex was a patient soul, just like his Zoid.

How come? He had a mortar cannon. Mortars were designed to bust up fortifications and pesky terrain alike, and he had one of the best on the market. The Malder's targeting computers, assisted by the audio-detection feed, adjusted the muzzle velocity to plant three of the 160mm Blockbuster shells directly atop the burrowing Warshark, vectors taken into account.

Alex's face may as well have been carved from stone. "Keep 'em on the run, Ivy."

The Command Wolf Maser Cannons are aimed at the central pop out section in the front of the shell and fires constantly trying to hit the Launcher. After 5 seconds of firing the zoid starts to move foward at a pace of 120kmph.

To the dismay of her teammate, Ivy's chatter continued the whole round.

"...and another thing, Mister Cloud, you're ugly. Yeah. Oog-lay."

Ignore the fact that she's never even seen the poor guy.

Ivy casually kicked off the ground, zooming upward to about fifty meters' altitude, where she leveled off and cruised over to the Command Wolf, aiming to pass directly overhead at about the three to four second mark. She pushed the stick down, coming in at a slight downwards trajectory as she armed her torpedoes.

The objective? Plant those torps directly atop the Command Wolf's CP-04 unit. After all, couldn't have poor old Alex getting ganged up upon. After she dropped the torps, Ivy leveled off, decelerating and banking into a turn, aiming to come up on the Wolf's six. She matched speed with it thanks to the antigrav unit, pouring fire into the back to hopefully finish off the CP-04.

"Good morning, Mister Wolf! Today's forecast is...partly hellish with a 100% chance of falling d00m."

In case you're wondering, yes, she pronounced the zeroes correctly.

((Jules, Ivy seems like Girl-Rick. Only less cocky and insane.))

The mannequins known as the Storm Riders open fire on Carrigan's Malder. Maserfire peppers the shell, as well as the Warshark's plasma cannons. It's doubtful as to whether or not the Malder even noticed.
Carrigan concentrated his fire on the Warshark, catching the missile pods with a sweep of machinegun fire just as an armed missile was coming out of the starboard pod. It detonated full force, blowing the entire pod. The concussive force shook the entire 'Shark, sending the port pod's missiles hopelessly off their unguided course. They impacted the sand some forty-three kilometers away from the Malder, exploding harmlessly.
Well, relatively harmlessly. But nobody really cares about rand0m towns, as those must be annihilated in order to create the next generation of zoid pilots. I mean, how else is someone gonna get into Zi's most expensive sport if they don't have any family to do stuff like help them out and tie them down with obligations? Really now, Vincent's just being a humane ol' chap.
As Carrigan took his aim and drew his guns quicker than Vincent, Ivy climbed to fifty meters' altitude, arrowing off towards the Command Wolf as it and the 'Shark patently ignored her. That would prove to be a mistake.
Meanwhile, Carrigan popped the big one. The Warshark scurried, rushing to get underground before the mortar cannon fired. He barely made it, getting underground just a bare second before Carrigan squeezed the trigger and blew the area to smithereens. The blast blew a huge crater in the ground, throwing the Warshark up into the air and kicking up a cloud of debris that forced Ivy to peel off or fly through a storm of rock and sand flying at pretty good speeds.
Vincent pulled out of the blast, loping towards the Malder at a pretty pokey speed. Ivy spotted him, then turned to turn her torpedoes on the canine. She spent the rest of the round coming up on his six, ending about eighty meters off his nine o'clock.

Ladies and gentlemen, the news I am about to relate to you is something so mind-numbingly horrifying, so statistically impossible that we all thought it couldn't be done. We all hoped it couldn't be done.
Hell, it shouldn't be done.
Unfortunately, rules are rules. Much as I like to, I cannot make an exception in this case. Especially not in this case, as we staffers are to be held to the very letter of the law.
Congratulations, Hero. You won by the only method possible for you. Default. Congratulations. Make no mistake in thinking that you won this through any means besides sheer dumb luck.

Repairs:
Warshark -- Overhaul.
Command Wolf -- Light.
Sinker -- None.
Malder -- None.

Each pilot receives 1,050 credits for this battle.