Post by gaplant on Jan 8, 2010 22:28:39 GMT -5
Outmaneuvered and outmatched by staunch Federal resistance, Ando Shoji has been forced to retreat from the West Arctic. As his forces enter North America, however, black clouds envelop the Dragon - a dark portent of things to come. What new evil approaches our brave hero? Can Shoji gather the strength to defeat it, or is his legend destined to end before it truly begins? Find out now, on COURAGEOUS ZAKU FIGHTER SHO!
Dragons.
The stories of these creatures started on Earth, to be sure - but to be fair, so did mankind itself. As humans began migrating to space to live their lives in gigantic space colonies, many took up the mantle of "Spacenoid" and made a concerted effort to erase and forget their "Earthnoid" beginnings, in order to facilitate their evolution to a superior race of people. However, try as they might, a few decades of cultivation in space-centered arts and philosophy had been woefully insufficient to suppress several thousand years of myths and legends. Thus, the stories persisted even on Side 3, the capital of the Duchy of Zeon and birthplace of the entire Spacenoid movement.
The tales were as numerous and diverse as the cultural memories that spawned them. One of the most consistent and familiar versions of the mythos, though, was the European dragon. In stories ranging from Beowulf to Saint George, the dragon was a large, serpentine creature, with four legs, a pair of wings, and a tail. In many cases they breathed fire, and in some they possessed magical abilities; almost always, though, dragons were viewed as evil and represented chaotic, supernatural forces that rampantly oppressed innocent people and their fledgling civilizations.
Another staple of the European style of dragon legends was found in the demise of the creatures. Heroes such as Siegfried invariably rose up to kill the beasts, either for justice, glory, greed, or the rescue of a fair maiden held prisoner. Though the hide of dragons was thick, the valiant champions would often use cunning tricks to defeat their foe - usually striking their exposed underbelly with sharp swords and spears.
Consistently throughout their works, the slaying of a dragon was noted by mythical authors to be a great honor. In their reckoning, such a deed ought to be celebrated for centuries to come as a triumph of human courage and perseverance.
Roaring through the cold autumn night, the Zeon Gaw Dragon might have inspired the same awe and dread in those authors as if they were facing Fafnir himself. With a wingspan over half a kilometer long and clad in thick purple armor, the gigantic plane cast such an imposing, ominous shadow upon the land that it may as well have been. To many citizens of Earth, Gaws represented the absolute dominance and strength of the Duchy of Zeon. Their appearance usually preceded the complete subjugation of the surrounding area, through force and fear much like the dragons of old.
For its part, the Dragon paid homage to its namesake in another way. Smoke rippled from an injury to its wing, a scar from a recent battle with its own nemesis - the Earth Federation. The Dragon had been driven out of the West Arctic by an officer of the name Nigel Ferdinand, commanding the remnants of what had once been known as the 42nd Brigade. His forces hadn't been strong enough to face the Dragon head-on, but as if playing the role of a cunning champion he had taken aim at the Gaw's underbelly with several sniper-type mobile suits. Through destiny or luck, a single shot had pierced the beast - a grievous injury. If the young Federal officer had been blessed just a bit more fortuitously, he might have been successful in his quest to slay the Dragon.
But the Dragon was no mere wyrm, and...
Nigel Ferdinand is no damn hero.
Second lieutenant Ando Shoji lay quietly in his quarters, hands interlocked under his head. He had been staring at the ceiling for about an hour, unable to sleep as he dwelt upon the events of the past few days. The black void of his room was made even darker by the thick storm clouds outside his window; still, to Shoji, the face of his enemy remained clear.
"Bastard!"
Shoji and the Dragon had been sent to the West Arctic to halt Federal expansion in the area, accompanied by the MAF's Aldo Armistad and his famed Basterds unit. Unfortunately, what was intended to be a lengthy Arctic campaign had turned into a three-day rout of the Zeon forces involved. Unable to properly deploy ground forces and out of resources, the Dragon had become a huge target that was unable to defend itself adequately against EFGF attack. Even Shoji, renowned for his courage and tenacity, was forced to authorize a pained retreat from the area - a withdrawal that was only successful because of the timely appearance of friendly ground support.
The operation had been costly. Casualties were relatively low, but nearly every one on-board had felt the strain of being on high combat alert for days on end. Dozens of soldiers had been admitted to the infirmary due to malnutrition and extreme exhaustion; Shoji himself hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep in as many days. His body ached from hours of pacing restlessly back and forth, inspiring his troops; still, that pain was a distant memory compared to the anxiety of not being able to fight his enemy face-to-face with his Zaku.
The Dragon had also taken significant damage to its wing in the retreat, disabling enough engines to reduce its operational altitude well below the norm. As it crossed into North America, it was only able to fly as high as the cloud layer. However, still wary of sniper strikes, Dragon maintained this positioning as cover from a surprise attack. Between their altitude, the darkness of night, and the submersion into such huge balloons of water vapor, it was thought that this would be the safest environment for travel.
A dull crash of thunder echoed in the distance, followed shortly by a light rain pattering across Dragon. Shoji watched silently out his window as his base of operations was enveloped by a blanket of black clouds accompanying the change in weather. The bridge crew had notified their commander earlier that they would be passing through a large storm system. As it happened, though, their current heading was the most direct route out of the storm, so no adjustments were necessary. The maintenance division was confident that the outer hull was stable enough to keep the essential instruments free from electronic interference.
Shoji had encountered his Federal counterpart before, but he hadn't learned this until after the retreat from the West Arctic. Captain Nigel Ferdinand, the so-called "Prince of Orange," had been in charge of the troops that chased the Dragon away. Weeks earlier, the same individual had cut a bloody swathe into Africa and slaughtered numerous patrol units, culminating in the destruction of at least two resource mines. It had only been due to the efforts of this very Gaw, the Dragon, that Ferdinand had finally been stopped. The Federation soldier was routed and presumed killed by Rhett Paruta during his exploits in the region, although at least the latter had been proven false.
He was an officer, which to Shoji meant that he was but one face of the many-headed snake strangling humanity into submission. However, one thing about his enemy kept gnawing at the hot-blooded Zeon warrior.
Unidentified Zeon ship, this is Captain Nigel Ferdinand of the Earth Federation. You have amongst your prisoners a civilian by the name of Melissa Ferdinand. She is a noncombatant in this war and I demand you release her immediately. Otherwise, I will be forced to fire upon you again. You have one minute to respond.
So this is the spirit of our foe? They would rather extort and threaten to save those they claim to love, instead of fighting to rescue them? Pathetic.
"Some protectors of Earth they are."
Shoji knew that he would gladly give his life to the war, if it meant the destruction of the Earth Federation. In his mind, they were the ultimate evil - a collection of the worst traits of mankind. The Earth Federation would ultimately destroy both humanity and Earth itself, if not stopped by the righteous strength of Zeon.
The catastrophes of the West Arctic had been sobering to Shoji, though. On the one hand, it was a minor defeat for Zeon that had resulted in no lasting damage to the forces of either side. On the other, it was just the latest in a series of Federal victories which had stymied Zeon efforts in yet another theater of war. Africa had been raided, Manila had fallen, and now the Federation had erected a complete defensive perimeter around North America. The recapture of Malta by the EFGF had been reported hours earlier, as well. It seemed no matter hard the Duchy fought, its soldiers were always outmatched and unable to achieve a lasting victory.
Shoji had seen it firsthand - the glazing of eyes and slumping of shoulders. Even the soldiers under his command were losing faith in their cause, and beginning to wonder if the war could be "won" at all. The Federation had been surprised at the beginning of the war, that was true; months later, though, they were now fighting back with a fervor that the Spacenoids couldn't hope to match after so many consecutive defeats.
Ando Shoji, now in his darkest hour, could not escape the fear that the fighting spirit of Zeon might soon be extinguished. If that happened, regardless of any other factors, it would be impossible for humanity to be saved - they would be doomed for who knows how many centuries, awaiting a champion that might never come.
What the hell can I do?
As if on cue, the light rain transformed into a torrential downpour, lightning cracking wildly around the Dragon. Gale force winds buffeted the carrier; though unable to shake the gigantic vessel, the howling was audible from Shoji's room. As the flash caught something in his peripheral vision, Shoji turned for the first time from the window and noticed two silhouettes draped over his desk.
A pair of lightning bolts raced through the sky outside, illuminating the objects - a long red scarf, and lengthy tan coat. Shoji started roughly at a sudden epiphany, the storm outside reaching its crescendo. He finally realized what was at stake.
"I see."
Up until now, Shoji had been trying to fight his enemies as a Zeon soldier. The EFGF, in turn, had been fighting him as if he was any other Zeon soldier. Their tactics were forced around encounters against other human beings, who inevitably were distracted by concern for their own lives. Shoji, too, had been guilty of this - he had been unwilling to die with the war in such gridlock.
As he considered this new line of thought, Shoji realized that it wasn't surprising that the courage of his troops could falter. After all, he reasoned, if he was forced to acknowledge defeat in the face of death, why would they not do the same?
So, Shoji decided, if he couldn't be victorious against the Earth Federation as a human being, he would have to transcend his mortal self. He would fight the Federation as a legend.
A mere mortal can't embody the bravery and justice of the Zeon cause. But...
Shoji leaped out of bed with a powerful kick, landing on his feet with authority. His eyes blazed with passion and resolve.
If that's the case, then from now on I won't fight the Federation as a human soldier, Ando Shoji. I'll fight them as an immortal paragon of courage. They will know my name, and they will fear me - Courageous Zaku Fighter Sho!
Shoji nodded willfully, and clenched one fist in assertion of his own power. Thunder sounded as if in salute.
Never again will I retreat from an enemy who stands in front of me. I'll end this war with my strength, and the bravery of those who fight beside me. I refuse to die until I've seen the future shaped by our courage.
Grabbing his coat and scarf, Shoji threw on both quickly, exiting his room as the rain outside came to a stop.
~
The bridge crew had opened a link to their commander's quarters in preparation for a notification, but were stunned into silence at his sudden appearance. Stunned into silence, they only watched as a reborn, smirking Ando Shoji greeted them.
"Report!"
The officer on deck nodded, riding a second wind of energy. Inspired, he cleared his throat and responded.
"Sir! We've received an encoded transmission addressed specifically to you!"
Shoji narrowed his eyes, thinking aloud.
"Is it from Command?"
"No sir, it's labeled only 'Saotome.' Archives have absolutely nothing on who or what that is, but I think you should take a look at this."
Pacing over to a nearby radio operator, Shoji stared intently at the console in front of him. The screen was blank save for a small nuclear symbol, tinted green. After a few moments, it faded away to reveal mechanical blueprints and specifications. After further inspection, it was clear what the document was - a layout of schematics for a new mobile suit, alongside a set of coordinates.
Shoji glanced over the page, analyzing the information and letting it sink in. His face contorted into a maniacal grin.
What do we have here?
Pumping a fist, Shoji triumphantly pointed to the southwest as the Dragon finally cleared the storm. Behind them, the first tinted hints of a sunrise crept over the horizon.
"YOSH!"
Dragons.
The stories of these creatures started on Earth, to be sure - but to be fair, so did mankind itself. As humans began migrating to space to live their lives in gigantic space colonies, many took up the mantle of "Spacenoid" and made a concerted effort to erase and forget their "Earthnoid" beginnings, in order to facilitate their evolution to a superior race of people. However, try as they might, a few decades of cultivation in space-centered arts and philosophy had been woefully insufficient to suppress several thousand years of myths and legends. Thus, the stories persisted even on Side 3, the capital of the Duchy of Zeon and birthplace of the entire Spacenoid movement.
The tales were as numerous and diverse as the cultural memories that spawned them. One of the most consistent and familiar versions of the mythos, though, was the European dragon. In stories ranging from Beowulf to Saint George, the dragon was a large, serpentine creature, with four legs, a pair of wings, and a tail. In many cases they breathed fire, and in some they possessed magical abilities; almost always, though, dragons were viewed as evil and represented chaotic, supernatural forces that rampantly oppressed innocent people and their fledgling civilizations.
Another staple of the European style of dragon legends was found in the demise of the creatures. Heroes such as Siegfried invariably rose up to kill the beasts, either for justice, glory, greed, or the rescue of a fair maiden held prisoner. Though the hide of dragons was thick, the valiant champions would often use cunning tricks to defeat their foe - usually striking their exposed underbelly with sharp swords and spears.
Consistently throughout their works, the slaying of a dragon was noted by mythical authors to be a great honor. In their reckoning, such a deed ought to be celebrated for centuries to come as a triumph of human courage and perseverance.
Roaring through the cold autumn night, the Zeon Gaw Dragon might have inspired the same awe and dread in those authors as if they were facing Fafnir himself. With a wingspan over half a kilometer long and clad in thick purple armor, the gigantic plane cast such an imposing, ominous shadow upon the land that it may as well have been. To many citizens of Earth, Gaws represented the absolute dominance and strength of the Duchy of Zeon. Their appearance usually preceded the complete subjugation of the surrounding area, through force and fear much like the dragons of old.
For its part, the Dragon paid homage to its namesake in another way. Smoke rippled from an injury to its wing, a scar from a recent battle with its own nemesis - the Earth Federation. The Dragon had been driven out of the West Arctic by an officer of the name Nigel Ferdinand, commanding the remnants of what had once been known as the 42nd Brigade. His forces hadn't been strong enough to face the Dragon head-on, but as if playing the role of a cunning champion he had taken aim at the Gaw's underbelly with several sniper-type mobile suits. Through destiny or luck, a single shot had pierced the beast - a grievous injury. If the young Federal officer had been blessed just a bit more fortuitously, he might have been successful in his quest to slay the Dragon.
But the Dragon was no mere wyrm, and...
Nigel Ferdinand is no damn hero.
Second lieutenant Ando Shoji lay quietly in his quarters, hands interlocked under his head. He had been staring at the ceiling for about an hour, unable to sleep as he dwelt upon the events of the past few days. The black void of his room was made even darker by the thick storm clouds outside his window; still, to Shoji, the face of his enemy remained clear.
"Bastard!"
Shoji and the Dragon had been sent to the West Arctic to halt Federal expansion in the area, accompanied by the MAF's Aldo Armistad and his famed Basterds unit. Unfortunately, what was intended to be a lengthy Arctic campaign had turned into a three-day rout of the Zeon forces involved. Unable to properly deploy ground forces and out of resources, the Dragon had become a huge target that was unable to defend itself adequately against EFGF attack. Even Shoji, renowned for his courage and tenacity, was forced to authorize a pained retreat from the area - a withdrawal that was only successful because of the timely appearance of friendly ground support.
The operation had been costly. Casualties were relatively low, but nearly every one on-board had felt the strain of being on high combat alert for days on end. Dozens of soldiers had been admitted to the infirmary due to malnutrition and extreme exhaustion; Shoji himself hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep in as many days. His body ached from hours of pacing restlessly back and forth, inspiring his troops; still, that pain was a distant memory compared to the anxiety of not being able to fight his enemy face-to-face with his Zaku.
The Dragon had also taken significant damage to its wing in the retreat, disabling enough engines to reduce its operational altitude well below the norm. As it crossed into North America, it was only able to fly as high as the cloud layer. However, still wary of sniper strikes, Dragon maintained this positioning as cover from a surprise attack. Between their altitude, the darkness of night, and the submersion into such huge balloons of water vapor, it was thought that this would be the safest environment for travel.
A dull crash of thunder echoed in the distance, followed shortly by a light rain pattering across Dragon. Shoji watched silently out his window as his base of operations was enveloped by a blanket of black clouds accompanying the change in weather. The bridge crew had notified their commander earlier that they would be passing through a large storm system. As it happened, though, their current heading was the most direct route out of the storm, so no adjustments were necessary. The maintenance division was confident that the outer hull was stable enough to keep the essential instruments free from electronic interference.
Shoji had encountered his Federal counterpart before, but he hadn't learned this until after the retreat from the West Arctic. Captain Nigel Ferdinand, the so-called "Prince of Orange," had been in charge of the troops that chased the Dragon away. Weeks earlier, the same individual had cut a bloody swathe into Africa and slaughtered numerous patrol units, culminating in the destruction of at least two resource mines. It had only been due to the efforts of this very Gaw, the Dragon, that Ferdinand had finally been stopped. The Federation soldier was routed and presumed killed by Rhett Paruta during his exploits in the region, although at least the latter had been proven false.
He was an officer, which to Shoji meant that he was but one face of the many-headed snake strangling humanity into submission. However, one thing about his enemy kept gnawing at the hot-blooded Zeon warrior.
Unidentified Zeon ship, this is Captain Nigel Ferdinand of the Earth Federation. You have amongst your prisoners a civilian by the name of Melissa Ferdinand. She is a noncombatant in this war and I demand you release her immediately. Otherwise, I will be forced to fire upon you again. You have one minute to respond.
So this is the spirit of our foe? They would rather extort and threaten to save those they claim to love, instead of fighting to rescue them? Pathetic.
"Some protectors of Earth they are."
Shoji knew that he would gladly give his life to the war, if it meant the destruction of the Earth Federation. In his mind, they were the ultimate evil - a collection of the worst traits of mankind. The Earth Federation would ultimately destroy both humanity and Earth itself, if not stopped by the righteous strength of Zeon.
The catastrophes of the West Arctic had been sobering to Shoji, though. On the one hand, it was a minor defeat for Zeon that had resulted in no lasting damage to the forces of either side. On the other, it was just the latest in a series of Federal victories which had stymied Zeon efforts in yet another theater of war. Africa had been raided, Manila had fallen, and now the Federation had erected a complete defensive perimeter around North America. The recapture of Malta by the EFGF had been reported hours earlier, as well. It seemed no matter hard the Duchy fought, its soldiers were always outmatched and unable to achieve a lasting victory.
Shoji had seen it firsthand - the glazing of eyes and slumping of shoulders. Even the soldiers under his command were losing faith in their cause, and beginning to wonder if the war could be "won" at all. The Federation had been surprised at the beginning of the war, that was true; months later, though, they were now fighting back with a fervor that the Spacenoids couldn't hope to match after so many consecutive defeats.
Ando Shoji, now in his darkest hour, could not escape the fear that the fighting spirit of Zeon might soon be extinguished. If that happened, regardless of any other factors, it would be impossible for humanity to be saved - they would be doomed for who knows how many centuries, awaiting a champion that might never come.
What the hell can I do?
As if on cue, the light rain transformed into a torrential downpour, lightning cracking wildly around the Dragon. Gale force winds buffeted the carrier; though unable to shake the gigantic vessel, the howling was audible from Shoji's room. As the flash caught something in his peripheral vision, Shoji turned for the first time from the window and noticed two silhouettes draped over his desk.
A pair of lightning bolts raced through the sky outside, illuminating the objects - a long red scarf, and lengthy tan coat. Shoji started roughly at a sudden epiphany, the storm outside reaching its crescendo. He finally realized what was at stake.
"I see."
Up until now, Shoji had been trying to fight his enemies as a Zeon soldier. The EFGF, in turn, had been fighting him as if he was any other Zeon soldier. Their tactics were forced around encounters against other human beings, who inevitably were distracted by concern for their own lives. Shoji, too, had been guilty of this - he had been unwilling to die with the war in such gridlock.
As he considered this new line of thought, Shoji realized that it wasn't surprising that the courage of his troops could falter. After all, he reasoned, if he was forced to acknowledge defeat in the face of death, why would they not do the same?
So, Shoji decided, if he couldn't be victorious against the Earth Federation as a human being, he would have to transcend his mortal self. He would fight the Federation as a legend.
A mere mortal can't embody the bravery and justice of the Zeon cause. But...
Shoji leaped out of bed with a powerful kick, landing on his feet with authority. His eyes blazed with passion and resolve.
If that's the case, then from now on I won't fight the Federation as a human soldier, Ando Shoji. I'll fight them as an immortal paragon of courage. They will know my name, and they will fear me - Courageous Zaku Fighter Sho!
Shoji nodded willfully, and clenched one fist in assertion of his own power. Thunder sounded as if in salute.
Never again will I retreat from an enemy who stands in front of me. I'll end this war with my strength, and the bravery of those who fight beside me. I refuse to die until I've seen the future shaped by our courage.
Grabbing his coat and scarf, Shoji threw on both quickly, exiting his room as the rain outside came to a stop.
~
The bridge crew had opened a link to their commander's quarters in preparation for a notification, but were stunned into silence at his sudden appearance. Stunned into silence, they only watched as a reborn, smirking Ando Shoji greeted them.
"Report!"
The officer on deck nodded, riding a second wind of energy. Inspired, he cleared his throat and responded.
"Sir! We've received an encoded transmission addressed specifically to you!"
Shoji narrowed his eyes, thinking aloud.
"Is it from Command?"
"No sir, it's labeled only 'Saotome.' Archives have absolutely nothing on who or what that is, but I think you should take a look at this."
Pacing over to a nearby radio operator, Shoji stared intently at the console in front of him. The screen was blank save for a small nuclear symbol, tinted green. After a few moments, it faded away to reveal mechanical blueprints and specifications. After further inspection, it was clear what the document was - a layout of schematics for a new mobile suit, alongside a set of coordinates.
Shoji glanced over the page, analyzing the information and letting it sink in. His face contorted into a maniacal grin.
What do we have here?
Pumping a fist, Shoji triumphantly pointed to the southwest as the Dragon finally cleared the storm. Behind them, the first tinted hints of a sunrise crept over the horizon.
"YOSH!"