The frequency of attacks in the African region - or lack thereof - was a subject of debate among those in the Steel Sharks, a group named for their unbreakable deathgrip upon others, once the jaws clench shut.  Those who had been here longer than Axton rightly told him that the beginning of the war saw plenty of action in this area, as one fifth of Zeon's opening forces landed here, and according to the plan, was to become the main support area of the offensive.  Alot of the materials seized materials by Zeon moved through here to either reach some other part of the war, or get sent back up into space.  Anyone who knew anything about war could tell you about supply lines.  Well, this was that, a strong link in the chain that had been attacked plenty of times in the past, and repelled by their group, among others.

Nevertheless, this was to become a non-issue at the beginning of this day, in the Universal Century Year 0080.  Today, they would announce the end of the war, and as the others began to shake themselves out of their New Years stupor and start addressing the issue that had been placed in their lap, a number of them would notice Lieutenant Thompson was not among them.  They remembered her there last night, drinking and eating with 'em.  She might've taken the war rather seriously, perhaps the very reason she was as skilled as she was, but she'd never turn down food and drink with good times among others...for the most part.  There was a subtle divide there, something in her eyes.  The terror of war didn't shock her.  It hadn't made her a laughing maniac or a monster, but Crea Thompson was ideal as a soldier of Zeon.  She fought for her country, but didn't go at great length about it.  She had killed plenty, some in this very lake, but felt little over it.  When asked about the killing others, Crew had said...

[i][color=ed1c24]"This war is a mass-slaughter in both direction.  If you want to win, people have to die.  I will not whine about it, and I sure as hell won't cheapen it, either.  I'm gonna kill 'em until they stop fighting me and mine.  That's all that matters."[/color][/i]

Zeon fought to keep Earth at bay, to keep them out of their way.  It was a cause worth fighting for, and - beyond the politics of it all - it was a cause made practical.  They could not operate in total autonomy while Earth looked upon them with greedy, controlling eyes.  But in any case, Crea wasn't here among the others.  Given the situation, there were only so many places she would be, and a perfectly rational reason why that place would be her Mobile Suit.  Right now, the Gouf was stationed about waist-deep in water, crouched and ready to go, as it often did.  She'd stationed it there because of the clear and obvious advantage in putting a blue humanoid mech in the middle of Africa in the only source of water around.  Attempts by Feddies to act in or around the lake usually procked her arrival, a swift attack, and the removal of remnants and bodies afterwards.  The Acguy was better-suited for that kind of ambush, but Crea was good at it.

Right now, inside the cockpit, she was asleep, having stepped in here to keep away from a load of drunken pilots and soldiers she didn't feel like entertaining some of the things that might show up on their minds.  This wouldn't last long, as she generally started her day with a bit of scouting, once she'd received some intel from the night shift in their Dopps.  As she did a stretch, she also switched on, and outside they would see the Gouf's eye shimmering to life.  Next, she got on radio.

[color=ed1c24]"Night crew, this is your relief call.  Give me your telemetry.  What's good out there?"[/color]

"We spotted some activity, directly south, but Lieutenant, listen...  There's been an announcement by the Federation-"

[color=ed1c24]"The Feddies are always up in arms about something.  That's why we're here.  Report to Major Sone, get some R&R.  I'm doing my rounds."[/color]

That was a Gouf getting ready for some combat, quickly checking its armaments before it would go.