((So apparently, Wappas are [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJQvOdywq8w]a thing now[/url].))

Milo flashed a thumbs-up to the other two pilots, dipping the throttle with his foot and centering the control stick as the little hover-bike lifted amidst a satisfying billow of sand. Rising to the altitude of the other two vehicles, he circled his hand in the air before pointing to the two positions he wished his wing-men to take.
"Alright, folks, keep an eye out; I may have a lot of equipment on this heap but you know how much that usually counts for out here!

Within a few minutes, the formation was skimming away across the desert sands, following the line of the road as it wound down the rocky slope of the depression. As he flew, Milo kept one eye on the sonar readout, the other one scanning the terrain as he looked for anything out of the ordinary.
"Well this might be a big fat waste of time." The young supply officer admitted sullenly over the laser comm. "Either of you spotting anything?"
In her carrying sling, Zel, Milo's fennec fox, chirped and nosed up at Milo's chin, her way of getting his attention. With a sigh, he reached down to scratch behind one of her ears, but the little creature merely strained and nosed again, wriggling against him for more attention.
Milo glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey, what is it you? You see something?"

[b]Not far away:[/b]

[i]"Well I'll be damned!"[/i]
Flint unclasped his hands from behind his head, sitting up in his pilot's chair at a TBS radio transmission over his comm unit. It had come from Private Felsh, the team Guntank's commander.
The young commander of the 12th MS Team, Corporal Flint Hobten, clasped a hand on his headset.
"What is it, Private?"
Flint glanced at his side-view monitor, watching as the optical tracking package on the nearby Guntank swiveled on its mount, one of the huge camera lenses focusing in one something a little ways off.
[i]"Movement, sir! Three small vehicles, about three klicks east; thermal interference is blurring the image, but I'd bet anything on Wappas from their speed. Looks like we found one, sir."[/i]
Flint raised his eyebrows, bringing up the grainy video feed transmitted by the Guntank. Indeed, three high-speed smudges appeared, the heat rippling from the sandy ground making identification difficult. In the upper right corner of the feed, however, was a CG enhancement, and the outline of three Wappa hover bikes could be seen.
He grinned.
"Man, and I was hoping for some boredom..." Flint replied, tapping the controls to bring his RGM-79 GM out of standby mode. "Dennis! Put up a signal flare, would you? We'll see if we can't get their attention. Stay sharp, though, I don't want anyone to get hurt if it turns out they're holdouts."
Over the past three days, Zeon units all over the Earth had surrendered en masse, obeying their government's order to surrender. For the most part, Federation troops had no trouble dealing with these groups, and things went smoothly.
Every so often, however, this turned out not to be the case.
Especially in remote areas, certain Zeon forces had refused orders, often on the grounds that they had not come from a member of the Zabi family, the regime many die-hard Zeon nationalist had sworn their loyalty to. Thus, they fought on, despite no hope of resupply or reinforcement.
Flint had heard of an HLV base in Australia which had only recently been overrun by Federation forces, and rumor had it that the holdouts based there had been preparing to release a deadly bio-weapon as a final act of retaliation. Many similar stories had filtered in over the past few days.
Even more troubling to Flint, though, were the Zeon units nobody could account for; obviously they had gone into hiding for some reason, which seemed to suggest at least a few of them had a plan...
He was shaken from his thoughts when, overhead, a bright green signal flare detonated.
Hopefully, these three would be reasonable.