Battlefield :: Battles | Events | FFA | Tournament

Stark Jegan versus Wing Gundam Zero versus Dendrobium Stamen versus Val Varo versus Destroy versus Physalis versus Justice

Seven mobile suits float in high Jupiter orbit, the dark red and brown stripes of the massive gas giant rotating with slow grace far, far below.

“So, have you guys figured it out yet?”

The red, angular suit with the strange backpack holds Jacob Markam, accomplished pilot and riddler. The Justice Gundam is his weapon of choice, quick and versatile, with its Fatuum subflight lifter and its varied array of armaments. Jacob himself is a warm, friendly man, easily getting along with his sectmates and almost any other ally.

“Is it a goat?”

The huge red mobile armor belongs to Matthew Juel, the mobile suit “hobbyist” and rebel of the group. The man is extremely proud of his weapon’s speed and strength, superior to any mobile suit, or so he claims. Though a bit of a mystery, he is willing to have a good time and beat the stuffing out of his teammates while doing it.

“Ah…maybe a pig?”

Frank Schneider is the owner of that calm, sure voice – a dedicated family man and pilot of the Stark Jegan. Although not the most powerful suit there, Frank has absolute confidence in his weapon’s ability to provide support to the team in situations of true battle. The older man enjoys throwing around banter with the younger pilots – reminds him of his own youthful exuberance, way back in the day.

“Chicken!”

Auto Skorkennie is the explosives expert in the group, and the pilot of the Dendrobium Stamen. He has a personality to match his favorite toys, and is known for his loyalty to the cause of the Galilean Confederation. His suit is a standard, well-armed prototype Gundam – which means it’s the best of the best. He is looking forward to the explosions that are sure to erupt from this little test.

“I say toaster.”

Belgarion Snowlock has neither the hair to match his namesake nor the personality – while the man is somewhat cold on the outside, on the inside he is as warm and friendly as any other rookie pilot. His weapon is the Phyalis, and while deprived of its nuke it’s somewhat less intimidating, it is still a Gundam – and that means quality.

“This is ridiculous…I’ll guess a cow, then, and let’s hurry this up. I have plans to formulate.”

That monster of a mobile suit, which dwarves every other unit on the field (only being trumped by the Val Varo, and that in length, not height) is the Destroy Gundam, and the commanding officer of the sect, Zeoroot Zan Zenoskis. At an unbelievable forty-plus meters high, it stands in stark contrast to the average height of the rest of the suits on the team. It is also armed to the teeth – almost literally. Zeo is very fond of his walking city-breaker, as well he should be. While a bit cold as far as his personal life is concerned, Zeoroot is quite a good commander, having a very good grasp on leadership and tactics.

The only pilot to not venture a guess is the owner of the blue-on-white Gundam. The Wing Zero’s operator, Ryu Hazuki, is a bit nervous about the upcoming battle. The ZERO system has yet to be fully tested, and it’s a strange system. Still, he thinks he should be able to handle it.

The seven pilots finish the start-up checks of their mobile suits, and one by one signal their readiness. A GM from Axis, along as an observer to this free for all training duel, raises his flaregun and fires a single round. It fizzles bravely through the vacuum, before disappearing with a wink.

There is a firefight!

Zeoroot opens up with all of Destroy’s cannons first, the full power of nearly forty weapon systems lighting up the nearby area like a supernova. Frank and Belgarion are partially caught in the blast, but they’re all good enough pilots (and honestly expecting Zeo to do something like this) to avoid the majority of the shots fired. Matthew immediately throws his throttles up to full and rockets off along Jupiter’s horizon, seemingly fleeing the battle. Only Frank elects to follow him, the rest concentrating on their boss – obviously the greatest threat.

Ryu, barely in control of the Wing Zero, attacks the Destroy from directly ahead, dodging withering beam fire as the ZERO system dances him from safe zone to safe zone, occasionally suffering a glancing hit. Belgarion and Auto loop around the massive amount of firepower being unloaded on the Wing Zero to come up behind the Destroy, planning on taking it out from its blind side. Jacob in the Justice shoots directly up, deciding to attack from above. The four teammates, united temporarily in this FFA, move in on their massive target.

Zeo is waiting for them. The pilot – quite a bit more skilled than his men – detaches both of his arms in a quick movement that surprises all of the pilots. One rockets up to meet the incoming Justice, the massive fist simply punching it in the chest and flinging it in a crazy spin backwards, the impact stunning the pilot inside. The second arm loops around the back, hand opening like a flower and raining beam blasts upon the two attackers. Auto is barely able to dodge the hail of fire, but Belgarion is not as lucky. The Physalis does manage to raise its shield, but the beam blasts quickly shred the large protective instrument, despite its bulky armor. They do a good bit of damage to the Physalis’ heavy frame before it boosts back, out of the effective range of the small but powerful guns.

Meanwhile, Zeo is still firing on the Wing Zero, getting somewhat more desperate as the ZERO system guides Ryu through the withering firestorm. Taking a final blast to the shoulder, which misses any critical systems, the Zero ignites its beam saber and begins to carve up the Destroy piece-by-piece, shredding armor like so much fluff.

Inside the cockpit, Ryu is having a difficult time. He manages to remain in control, but can feel his sanity slipping. Colors begin to blend into each other as he attacks relentlessly, sweat dripping down his furrowed brow. Suddenly an alarm sounds and the ZERO system pulls control of the suit away from Ryu, zooming backwards in bare time to avoid the massive fist that passes directly in front of his cameras.

The second hand continues the guard the back of the Destroy, keeping the Stamen at bay while Auto’s beam rifle blasts reflect harmlessly off of the positron barrier. The Physalis is busy moving around the massive Gundam, attempting to position itself for another attack, while Jacob finally shakes the cobwebs out of his head and heads back into the game.

* * *

A little further away, Frank finally achieves a lock on the fleeing Val Varo. “This is what you get for runnin’, Matt.” He intones, grinning.

“Maybe I’m not running!” Matt quips back, laughing joyfully. He spins the Val Varo into a quick three-sixty, only to find four extremely large missiles headed directly for him. He clumsily attempts to dodge, and manages by sheer luck to avoid one, but three of the missiles impact directly into his large armor – disabling his beam guns, plasma leaders, and missile pods and doing a lot of damage to his frame.

Matt curses – but looks on the bright side. “You didn’t get my BIG gun!” The mega particle cannon roars out a challenge as the bright beam heads directly toward Frank’s Jager.

“Don’t get cocky, kid!” Frank yells as he launches the rest of his missiles and fires his bazooka. His excellent aim – almost as good as Matt’s – causes the entire payload to slam into the Val Varo. While the mega particles trash his own suit, the mobile armor is also disabled by six medium missiles and a powerful bazooka round. Only minimal thruster power remains, by virtue of the thick frontal armor. Matthew fires up the engines, making his slow way back to Axis.

“Hey Matt.”

”Yeah Frank?”

“Mind if I hitch a ride?”

* * *

The scene at the Destroy Gundam is still silent chaos as the four allies attempt to down the massive suit. However, for Zeo it begins to seem as though the lesser skills of his men are taking their toll. Many of its weapons are disabled, and the right arm – the one that went after the Wing Zero – is completely gone. The left manages to still keep back the Stamen, the Physalis, and the Justice, but only through the virtue of Zeoroot’s superior skill and the damaged state of two of the three attackers.

But there are other problems to the front. Inside the Wing Zero Ryu has finally begun to lose control, sanity slipping into the pool of data and conclusions that the ZERO system feeds his already unstable mind. He becomes an emotionless killing machine, everything blurring together in front of his eyes into one massive enemy.

“I must destroy my enemies.” Ryu intones over the comm as he attacks the Destroy Gundam again and again – stopping only to dodge the occasional point-blank shot that would cause any damage. The blasts start to add up, but the damage to Ryu’s suit is nothing to what he is doing to the Destroy.

Diagnostics pop up in Zeoroot’s cockpit, telling a sad tale of armor lost and systems failing. As the Wing Zero works its way closer and closer to the cockpit, even Zeo’s calm mind begins to become nervous. He is forced to divide his attention between two fronts, and for a Natural it is a difficult task.

Behind the monster Gundam, the remote arm finally catches the Physalis in a full-on blast from its five beam guns, shredding what little armor remained of the usually-nuclear mobile suit and stopping it dead in space. Belgarion sighs as he shuts down the man machine – his part in this fight is finished.

The destruction of the Physalis gives the other two combatants a chance, however. As one, they move in on the Destroy Gundam’s back, the Justice slicing the arm in twain and the Stamen going directly for the head.

Seconds after the diagnostics report the failure of the right arm, Zeo’s visual screens go black. The man sighs in consternation, somewhat annoyed at his teammates yet proud of their cohesion and strategy. It was a fight well worth the time, and…

An emergency claxon blares and startles Zeoroot out of his thoughts. Massive damage to the front torso continues unabated. Was it…?

“Ryu,” Zeo intones over the comm, “What the hell are you doing? I’m out of this battle. Move on to another target.”

The damage doesn’t stop. Zeo hears the other pilots asking Ryu the same question, persistently, then their questions turn to shouts and finally pleas. The pilot of the Wing Zero does not respond to any hails.

“So…this is the ZERO system…” Zeoroot mutters, prepared to die.

“Goddammit Ryu! STOP!” Auto yells angrily, all humor gone from his voice now. He tackles the Wing Zero from the side, slashing it with his beam saber as he does so. Though sparking from countless burns, the Wing Zero’s incredible armor holds up under the strain, and it turns to face the Stamen.

“You are my enemy.” Ryu intones once again, his voice cold and emotionless. Chills go up and down the spines of the three pilots as they hear that voice. Where has their companion gone to?

As quick as lightning, the Wing Zero attacks. Auto barely has a second to block, but block he does, his beam saber matching the Wing Zero’s in intensity as plasma sparks spread out around the two locked suits.

“Jacob! Take him out!” Skorzennie yells loudly, his suit unable to match his opponent’s strength. The Stamen’s saber is slowly pushed down underneath the powerful arms of the Wing Zero.

In the Justice, Jacob nods as he frantically manipulates the controls. The red mobile suit zooms to the rescue, slashing wildly at the Zero and missing as the other suit dodges. All the while Ryu maintains his lock with the Stamen, slowly pushing the other saber down, down, down.

“JACOB!” Auto screams, his voice echoing with a sudden burst of static in the comm as the Stamen’s head is destroyed by its own beam saber. Unable to see, and thus guard, he flails his saber wildly as the Wing Zero moves in for the kill.

“RAAAAAAAGH!” Jacob lets out a primal yell of fury as he looses a dual beam blast from his backpack cannons. The spears of light lance out across space, catching both the wounded Wing Zero and the Stamen in their coruscating power and blurring all vision.

When the smoke clears, the remains of the Wing Zero and the Stamen hang in free fall. Ryu’s cockpit is actually pierced, the pilot still locked securely in his chair. Jacob zooms in, ice cold panic filling his veins – and breathes a sigh of relief as he spots the telltale movement of his teammate’s chest.

In the silence of the aftermath, the pilots gather up their broken mobile suits as best they can. After the call to Axis for cleanup is made, a single voice crackles across the comm.

“It was a chicken.” It is the weary tones of Jacob Markam.

“Hey! Screw you, I said that!” The indignant voice of Matthew complains.

Outcome: Jacob Markam wins, Others Lose Stark Jegan: 3 Day’s Damage Wing Gundam Zero: 4 Day’s Damage Dendrobium Stamen: 3 Day’s Damage Val Varo: 3 Day’s Damage Destroy: 4 Day’s Damage Physalis: 4 Day’s Damage Justice: 3 Day’s Damage

Crossbone X-1 versus Crossbone X-2 versus Crossbone X-3

The asteroid belt. Graveyard for a stillborn planet – prevented from ever forming by the gigantic mass of Jupiter, the dead floating husks of a world that could have been spiral slowly in their orbits around the sun, and periodically to each other. But this day, there are several intruders into the burial ground. Amongst the rocks too numerous to count, three ‘X’ patterns are visible. Closer inspection reveals the three patterns to be attached to a trio of mobile suits. The Crossbone Gundams solemnly rest, suspended in the closest thing an object of space might have to a cemetery.

“It’s really rather interesting, you know?” That would be Jon Rogret, in the Crossbone X-2. “Apparently, an Old Earth author… Some, umm, Randall Garrett, he wrote of a civilization existing entirely on the various tiny planetoid-type asteroids. Had everything laid out perfectly – they had a whole economy, trade, relations between each other… Fascinating stuff, really.” Jon looks around at the bleak landscape surrounding his mobile suit, and those of his compatriots. “It’s a lot less impressive to think about when you can live out here, I guess, but it just goes to show you Garrett may have been onto something all those years ago.”

In the Crossbone X-1, Jane Divine shrugs as she suppresses a yawn. “That’s great, Jon. I’m sure it really is quite fascinating. But at the moment, I’m more concerned with beating the crap out of you and Eugene. Maybe you can tell me the rest of the story while I’m towing your broken hulks back to civilization.” Her sharp features – coldly-beautiful – crack into a smirk, though she begins to fidget slightly in impatience. Her foot taps out a stacatto beat on the floor of the X-1’s cockpit, and she flicks her comm switch. “Gene!” The yell was not harsh – simply commanding. “What are you doing?”

In the Crossbone X-3, Eugéne Ionesco is jolted out of his own personal reverie, and the pen he had been twirling between his fingers goes spiraling off behind some component or another. He hurridly switches off the music that had been blaring through the speakers. Coughing slightly in embarrassment, he sits forward and responds. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Sorry, sorry, gimme a sec.” With his usual fluidity, he runs quickly through the checklist for his suit, ensuring that all systems are ready to go. “I’ve got all green here, Jane. Remind me why we’re fighting in the middle of a meteor shower, again?”

Jon chuckles. “It’s good practice for keeping aware of the environment, Eugene. Anyway, I’m green here too. Looks like everything’s ready to go on our end. How about you, Jane?” Jon fingers the cross that rests on his upper chest, closing his eyes momentarily. When they re-open, the gaze from their gray depths would be enough to freeze even the most fearless mercenary. Totally focused, he barely hears the words come through his comm-unit speakers.

Jane has been ready for a while now, and purses her lips tightly in anticipation for just a moment. Then…“Right then. Game on, boys.” The sentence isn’t even finished and she is slammed back into her cockpit by the acceleration of her mobile suit. All three Crossbones, in fact, leap into action, slicing in and out amongst the myriad stones that slowly meander across space, spinning at various rates. None of the three manages to gain an early advantage, as each is attempting to keep his or her distance and wait for an opening by the other two. This, while it makes for some beautiful maneuvering, hardly whets one’s appetite for destruction.

“Aww, shit!” Jane had overcompensated just this much on her last slide to her right, and is now directly in the patch of a good-sized chunk of rock. Fortunately, her reflexes manage to enable her to flick the thrusters, and in a delicate move she manages to jet herself above the asteroid, landing lightly on top of it. Unfortunately, this action ias exactly the inspiration both pilots needed – for different reasons – and Jane quickly has to draw her beam saber, blocking across her body as Jon’s X-2 flies in from above, stabbing downwards.

Eugene, however, has other plans, an idea hatched as Jane alighted upon the nearby asteroid. With a short burst of thrusters, he heads in towards one particularly large asteroid, and latches onto it with his scissor anchor. Powering down all nonvital systems – though a quick cold-restart will have him operational again in short order – completely, he waits…

The melee between Jane and Jon is fast and furious, with each of the two pilots attempting to gain the upper hand. With nearly identical mobile suits, each of the two attempts to take advantage of a particular specialty. Jon always seems to be just one step ahead of Jane in each of his movements. Every spin, every turn, seems to put him in a perfect position to strike at the X-1. However, Jane is not to be outdone. Her movements, while less elegant than Jon’s – and perhaps just a fraction of a second slower – are at each step more economical than Jon’s.

He takes a sweeping strike at her head, and she counters with a quick sidestep and a flick of the wrist. Moving with the blow, she spins and attempts to bisect the X-2, but Jon is already leaping out of the way. With a burst of the thrusters, he flies straight over the X-1’s head, cutting in a downward motion at the white suit’s back. Jane’s high guard blocks the blow, though, and as Jon attempts to stop his motion she is already jumping at his exposed back, drawing one of the X-1’s heat daggers from her suit’s leg. Jon turns to meet the blow, but the additional weapon surprises him. Throwing himself backwards, he flails with his saber to attempt to catch both of the weapons on his single blade. The tactic, while valiant, fails. One of the daggers embeds itself deep in the electronics in the black suit’s left shoulder, and that causes a significant threat to the whole suit’s integrity. Before any explosions can occur, Jon shuts off power to the extremity.

Jane grins, a feral expression, made almost frightening by the volume of metal embedded into various portions of her facial features. She knows that, with only one arm, the close combat-oriented X-2 will have significant difficulty handling her own powerful melee attacks, with little ability to keep her at range and wear down her defenses. Still, something seems wrong. Something… something missing? As Jon dashes and dodges out of range momentarily, attempting to gather himself, he too realizes the same thing as Jane. Both have a nearly-identical thought, at almost the same time. A quick check of the scanners does nothing to answer the query… ‘Where the hell is Gene?’

“Okay, hope this works!” Gene pats his large asteroid carrier friend, and readies himself. As the two other pilots had fought, Gene – who still kept the engines powered down so as to present as minimal an energy signature as possible – had slowly let out the cable on the anchor, walking along the asteroid surface until his line no longer retained any sort of slack. With a quick nod to himself, he begins sprinting along the asteroid, jumps at full power, and ignites the thrusters as he pushes himself away from the space debris. Grinning despite himself, he lets out a small mental cheer as – just as planned – the scissor anchor catches and holds, turning his outward acceleration into a rapidly-shrinking arc. At the last possible moment, Eugene detaches the anchor, flinging himself straight around the edge of the asteroid, nearly clipping his suit’s head on it.

“No, seriously, Jon, where is Gene?” The two pilots had stopped – only for a moment – to attempt to ascertain the whereabouts of their erstwhile third member. It’s at that point, each of the pair’s consoles blip with a sensor reading. Jane smiles, partly relieved, partly excited to begin again. “Okay, there he is. Get ready, Rogret, ‘cuz I’m going to slice you in two.” Then Jane’s console blips once more. And again…

“WARNING! COLLISION DETECTION ACTIVATED!” --- “What?” The object is moving so fast, Jane barely has time to try anything. Her mind races, flipping through a dozen different possible scenarios, even as another part of it recognizes – finally – that the object hurtling towards her at impossible speeds is none other than the Crossbone X-3. It should be impossible stunt, trying to maneuver in the asteroid field at that rate. But Eugene has a relatively short distance to cross, thanks to his quick hitchhiking. With a combination of skill and luck, he has avoided any major obstacle and caught the X-1 unprepared. In an act of desperation, Jane hurriedly throws her suit into a flip, the best available option she could reasonably think of. It isn’t enough.

With a quick slice of the extended beam zanber, Gene takes off two-thirds of the X-1’s legs. It is a clean attack, surgical in nature. Fortunately for Gene, because of the speed and purity of the strike, the small explosions that follow never threaten to engulf the X-1, or Jane might have gotten really, really pissed! It never occurred to him she could have died. Jane, he figures, couldn’t go out like that. No chance. And so she won’t. Ionesco hurridly attempts to slow his maniacal rate of speed, barely even noticing the X-2’s zanbuster shots that bounce harmlessly off his suit’s powerful I-Field barrier. Quickly checking the readout – he had another couple of minutes before both generators would be exhausted and he would be undefended. “Plenty of time to take out Jon.” He smiles.

Jon is in decidedly less of a good mood than his new opponent. The X-3 is an extremely dangerous suit in its own right, and in his disabled state Jon is unsure how long he will be able to defend himself from attacks, much less turn the tides and claim a victory. Nevertheless, his eyes narrow, and he throws his suit forward in an offensive pattern. Knowing full well that with the I-field the X-3 has a complete and total advantage in any sort of ranged warfare, Jon takes the only possible option he has left. An offensive might allow him to counterbalance his lack of defensive abilities while he thinks of something else. Gene, in the X-3, raises his eyebrows slightly, but meets the attack with vigor. This is his sort of fight, and he enthusiastically gets down to business with the X-2.

The differences between the pilots, and suits, become quickly apparent. Jon is still a slightly more capable flier, managing to anticipate Gene’s moves a hair more successfully, but his advantage seems lessened compared to that against Jane. And neither of the two pilots manages to gain a leg up from the way they fight. Jon’s intensity and focus guiding him towards points of attack like light working its way down the blade of a knife; Eugene’s countering with a wild array of seemingly-random movements… ‘Seemingly’ being the key word. Dashes in some strange direction would be turned into backflips and twists that would place him in position for a strike. The suits clash time and again, and though the X-3 has the better of the exchanges, Jon’s ferocity forces Ionesco to re-evaluate his earlier belief that a couple of minutes would be plenty of time to take out the X-2.

Though the X-2 has taken no additional significant damage, small scorings along its already-disabled arm and both legs suggest the X-3 has been getting awfully close, while Jon has seen no similar success from his own attacks. The X-3 uses its extra hand to great advantage, currently wielding a pair of beam sabers with effectiveness. A quick glance at his monitor gives Jon a flash of insight. As he tries to work up his last-ditch plan, he notices his hands begin to move on the controls almost of their own volition. Never one to ignore his instincts, Jon instead decides, “To hell with plans!” and sends the X-2 on a pell-mell attack.

In the X-3, Eugene had been taken momentarily out of his attacking mentality by the pinging of the onboard computer informing him that his suit’s I-field barrier would be down for the next fifteen seconds while the first generator – which had overheated earlier in the battle and been shut down to cool – finished cooling. Returning his attention to the battlefield, Gene is shocked to find the X-2 bearing down upon him at high speed. He moves his hands to attempt to guard against a saber attack, but again finds himself surprised when the X-2 never tries one. Turning his suit slightly, Jon slams into the X-3 with his already-damaged side, wincing as he hears metal squeal under protest. Still, the attack throws Eugene out of whack, and the lanky pilot takes a moment to clear his head.

“Hey, Gene – dodge this.” Gene whirls in his cockpit, his composure slightly rattled. During the impact, he had been thrown further than he had thought. Without his noticing, Jane’s X-1 is now directly behind the X-3. His mouth gapes slightly, at the thought of his I-field generator… still charging. The X-1’s zanbuster and mega machinecannons fire at the same time, tearing into Eugene’s suit – though Jane lets a small exhalation of surprise escape her mouth, as the zanbuster had been more firing for ‘effect’ than anything else. Still, she continues the barrage, and within moments, the entire rear of the X-3 is riddled with holes from the projectiles, and several large blasts have removed significant portions of the suit’s armor and housings. With an exasperated sigh, Gene shuts down the suit to avoid a critical reactor breach.

Jon, never one to overlook a free opportunity, moves hastily to end the fight before Jane can turn her guns on him. A quick stab from his beam saber to the X-1’s head disables it, and Jon laughs as he thinks of Jane probably cussing a blue streak in her cockpit. Eugene grumbles in the X-3, searching irritably for his dropped pen. “You guys wouldn’t have gotten me if I hadn’t gotten double-teamed!”

Still annoyed herself, Jane snaps back at him. “Oh, like you’ll never have to fight more than one opponent at a time. Excuse me while I call the ‘Whaaaaambulance.’”

Opening up a comm channel of his own, Jon Rogret can’t help but allow himself a McKenzie-like mischievous smirk. “So Jane… how about the rest of that story, then?”

Divine’s angry yell, one might think, could almost be heard by the spirits of planets never coalesced.

Outcome: Jon Rogret wins, Jane Divine and Eugene Ionesco lose Crossbone X-2: 2 day’s damage Crossbone X-1: 3 day’s damage Crossbone X-3: 3 day’s damage

Aquarius versus Kampher

For most, being millions of kilometers from civilization surrounded by massive tumbling, shifting, and crashing asteroids is a frightening thought. For a member of Drake's Legacy, it's home. And so it is not uncommon to see mobile suits ducking, dodging, and blasting it out amongst the leftover creational debris.

The blue-hued Kampher lands nimbly across the surface of one of the larger hunks of rock, surveying silent abyss. Sweeping left to right with a 360 millimeter "giant" bazooka, the ancient mobile suit's pilot curses within his cockpit.

"Where did that bastard go?! When I get ahold of him..." Lysander Kale mutters to himself inside of his helmet. Before he can finish his thought and spoken threat, the Aquarius arrives. Inside the cockpit, Said Actev smiles as he rockets toward his target.

The similarly colored, anti-Mobile Doll Gundam blasts directly at Kampher, two heat rods trailing red hot beneath. Normally, a head-on approach could be considered suicidal. However, the antiquated weaponry wielded by his foe poses little threat to the hardened Gundanium alloy that protects Aquarius.

This doesn't prevent Lysander from firing, however. Aiming carefully, the giant bazooka spits a small gout of flame and puff of smoke as contaminants within the barrel are expelled along with the warhead. Two follow-up shots soon carry after the first. The three warheads each scorch across the atmosphere-less surface of the asteroid, toward the sparsely armed Gundam.

While not an expert with his mobile suit, nor having the most maneuverable suit around, Said still reacts in plenty of time to avoid the incoming projectiles, though his altered course still leaves him in a head-on attack with the Kampher. With a grunt of disapproval, Actev brings the Aquarius' left arm back for a strike.

"I've got you!!" Lysander yells as Kampher picks up the end of the chain mine, flicking it like a whip at Aquarius. The leading mine strikes the Gundam in the chest, and the rest curl and wrap around the suit, detonating as the last mine sticks. Sitting back in his cockpit with a triumphant grin, Lysander watches with approval as the orange fireball overtakes and consumes the Aquarius.

Turning and warming his rocket thrusters to leave the site of his "victory", the pirate pilot Lysander Kale is completely shocked as Aquarius’s blackened form emerges from the destruction, still intact. Reacting as quickly as he can, Lysander pulls a shotgun out with his suit’s right arm and aims it without turning to face the still oncoming threat. Aquarius throws its arm forward, the heat rod wrapping around and sinking into the short-range projectile weapon shortly before the ammunition explodes within the shotgun.

Kampher loses its right arm in the explosion, the shredded remains of the lightly armored limb hanging limply at the mobile suit’s side. Grabbing a panzer faust with the remaining left arm, it spins, yet aims all-too-late – the second heat rod wraps around the blue Cyclops’s entire body, and melts away rocket engines nearly instantly. Turning the heating function of his weapon off, Said Actev picks the helpless Kampher from the ground, and flings it violently down once more. The customary lighted-eye Zeon designs flashes twice before going out.

"Alright... I'll head back and send someone out here to pick you up. And while I wait for you to come back and buy me my drink, I'll have a nice chat with that cute blonde you were after!" Said Actev promises as his mobile suit darts back toward HOME.

Outcome: Said Arctev wins, Lysander Kale loses Aquarius: 1 Day's Damage Kampher: 3 Day's Damage

GM Sniper versus Z Gustav

Etaoin Shardlu Double sits in the cockpit of his Z Gustav. In one hand rests a cigarette. It is lit. Slowly, he takes a long, healthy drag, and extinguishes it in his custom-added ashtray. Finished with all of his own necessary pre-flight preparations, he hits the switch and his comm unit flares to life. “Allons-y, monsieur! Are you ready…” He struggles for a moment with the name of his opponent – they had met but briefly, and after some shared commiserations about their respective lives, had decided that a meeting on the battlefield would be worthwhile. Practice, they had both agreed, was rarely a waste of time. “… Uhh, Rupert. I’m prepared to begin whenever you are.” That was it, Rupert Schaefer.

In his GM Sniper, Schaefer finishes some last-minute checks, and then engages the motors for the suit controls. He flicks his fingers towards the nearby forest, in which the two had agreed to fight. “So, fifteen minutes, then? You go your way, I go mine? Long-range only, yeah?” In the Z Gustav, E., as he so calls himself around others, chuckles. “Après-vous.” Each of the suits trudges slowly into the trees, and the pair split up in opposite directions. Rupert immediately begins searching for a suitable location to use for a hide. E., however, has different plans.

Within scant moments, he has found a couple of trees close enough together to support his most powerful long-range weaponry, the Z Gustav’s 120 mm smartgun. Capable of shooting greatly damaging shells from reasonably long distance, he places it gingerly behind – and somewhat below, to avoid blowing straight through them – a handful of protective treetops. Placing a timer on it, he immediately begins creeping back through the underbrush (as much as a 10-meter tall metal machine can ‘creep’) in the direction towards which he last saw the GM Sniper.

With the fifteen minutes almost up, Rupert has located a suitable spot, and has spent some time preparing it to be as effective as possible. Several felled trees which retained a good portion of their foliage offer excellent camouflage, and the fact that the whole lot is on a slight hill allows for greater visibility to boot. Nodding in satisfaction, he settles down, shifts his weight, and slows his breathing as much as possible. Looking through his viewfinder’s ‘scoped’ vision setting, he begins panning across the surrounding forest in a painstaking manner. Every suspicious brush is examined closely, and all likely hide locations – In other words, what I’d take for myself if I was over there... – are thoroughly searched.

3…2…1… Mere moments after the fifteen-minute timer expires, Rupert hears the report of a weapon blast. “Spotted… Already?! Impossible, not even I’m that good.” And, true to form, no forthcoming shells decimate Rupert, or the surrounding region. In less than a minute, the crack of a shot rings out again. Scanning quickly across the horizon, Rupert spots the telltale smoke that signals an attempted hit. “He’s not even close! What is that guy doing?” Settling back in, Rupert waits for the next attack. That should allow him to triangulate a position, and attempt the kill.

“Venez à moi, ma chèrie… ” E. waits patiently, close to the point at which the two suits had earlier entered the forest – a midpoint from which he can observe a significant area of the layout, he hopes. He sits, and waits. As soon as he has a confirmed direction towards which he can attack, he will strike swiftly and decisively. But for now, he waits. And waits… And waits…

And waits…

“Dammit, what is that fool doing?!” The smartgun continues its firing at irregular intervals – a quick bit of programming does a world of good – yet there have been no shots at its direction. For Rupert is of the old guard. Around during the Triumvirate Wars, he has seen enough comrades go down to know the value of patience. He is willing to wait. And watch. The location of the gun itself was sniffed out easily enough. But without full visual confirmation of the target suit itself, there can be no clean solo-shot kill. The type that Rupert lives for. “I’ve had enough of this!” Shardlu dashes out from his waiting spot, rushing towards the sector of the forest in which he thought he had seen some movement earlier.

It would prove to be a significant mistake. Schaefer lets out half his breath, and holds the rest. Though the act is merely cosmetic – being in a mobile suit that does the viewfinding itself – he closes one eye, and rests his finger lightly on the trigger. In short order the Z Gustav comes in to view, dashing this way and that in an attempt to discover the GM Sniper’s hiding location. “Wait for it… Not yet… Not yet… … … Now.”

A bright beam of light lances out from the hide, streaking across the forest. It goes in between several trees and just below the hanging branch of another. Shardlu, in the middle of another turn on his quest to discover the Sniper’s location, is pierced towards what would be the ‘obliques’ on a human being. The attack slices through layers of metal and wires, cutting clean through the other side. For a moment, it appears as though the battle is over. But the shot is not a full kill, and the Z Gustav quickly transforms into its high-speed Waverider mode. With a general direction now pinpointed, Shardlu quickly deduces the hiding place of the Sniper, and sends bursts of chaingun rounds into the hide.

Abandoning his spot, rifle, and energy backpack, Rupert has but one last-ditch chance. He is outclassed in speed, armor, and weaponry, and he knows it. Nevertheless, the Gustav –is– damaged, and perhaps he can take advantage of that fact. Bursting towards the onrushing suit, he draws a beam saber and ignites it. As the plasma fills the I-field, Shardlu once more transforms, back to the mobile suit. Grabbing a beam gun in one hand and a saber in the other, he begins tracking fire across the Sniper’s path, while the older suit attempts to dodge around it.

“Welp… Screw it.” Schaefer dives forward. Laughing, Shardlu brings his saber down in a slashing motion, knowing there is no way that the Sniper can get to him before he cleaves it in two, if he so wishes. He is also completely wrong. The injured mechanisms on the side of the Gustav malfunction, causing its arm to twist and flail. Though one of the stabs manages to catch the Sniper straight across the upper torso, nearly decapitating it, it is not before the elderly mobile suit manages to stuff its own saber straight into the earlier wound.

Electricity runs up and down the full exteriors of both suits, and small explosions ripple along the entire right side of the Z Gustav. When the smoke clears, there is little but two half-portions of Gundam left, with a side order of a pair of violently-arguing pilots. The incensed Rupert Schaefer seems ready to go after E. Shardlu with a sniper rifle of his own, but it is fortunately at this time that local authorities arrive to investigate the burning brush fire caused by the smargun’s attacks – attacks which continue to repeat.

Embarrassed, E. turns to one local official. “Oops.”

Outcome: Draw GM Sniper: 2 day’s damage Z Gustav: 3 day’s damage

Gottraltan versus Gaia Gear Alpha

Many years have passed since that night on Vitz; that fateful night where two pilots would meet for the first time. Little did each know that their lives would spiral in such a way. Neither knew that they would end up far from there, and if they would have picked, neither would have ever thought of location. Perhaps in the end, it’s become the reason why Mars is perfect staging ground; Mars, with the terraformed landscape, is beautiful – a rich green and blue under a teardrop sky that makes one remember Earth… makes one remember what was lost.

Not a building mars the scenery as far as the eye can see. In fact, the only things that dot the natural elegance are two monstrosities; two pieces of death art. They are gladiators meant for the sole purpose of death and destruction. In many ways, they are the antonym of Orb’s Mars … and yet, here they were. And inside, two acquaintances, well met many years ago, face one another.

“Remember how we met?” Will Ackerman laughing, hands easily remembering how to do systems checks despite the soul’s unwillingness for such memories. He had come here to raise a farm and forget how to be a soldier. And yet, here he is.

“Remember how I had to carry you out?” Tyrus replies. There is no smile on the man’s face, yet somewhere deep down, there is a sense of mirth. How did he end up here? Well, such reflections are best kept to a different time… and a different place. For now, his Gaia Gear is waiting.

“Let’s begin.”

And so the battle takes place, with no more words spoken. No more words are needed, when Newtype and Coordinator meet.

There is a palatable silence, before a wind kicks up; a nuclear wind caused by the simultaneous activations of vernier thrusters. Butterflies flee their flowers, and birds scamper away. They know what will happen next is a dance with death. The wind begins to pick up, as if the mightiest of storms is about to come down, and each mobile suit leans forward. There is a buzz, and the sound of rushing energy, and the Gaia Gear’s beam saber glows with life, pointed straight behind him. There’s a second buzz, and from the right hand a second one emerges. The Gottraltan’s preparations aren’t as awe inspiring. The pink mobile suit merely holds up two metal projections, which slowly form two glowing tonfas.

No, no weapons other than these will be used on this day. It is an unspoken agreement. Perhaps soon, mega particles will mar the surface and turn flowers to ash. Perhaps soon, bullet casings will replace the spring birth. But it will not be on this day. But there will be a dance.

It is Will that makes the first move, with a twitch lighter than a hair. It’s enough, for then both suits are running forward to meet one another. They swing at the same time, and sabers meet tonfas, with a spray of sparks as the results. The first clash is met by a second and third in rapid succession before they back up again, taking a moment of respite to analyze the first encounter. It was just a testing, for soon the real battle begins.

The Gaia Gear jumps suddenly, bringing down both sabers in a wide ‘X’ formation, hoping to take its opponent unawares. It almost works, but at the last second Will shifts, letting the superheated plasma meet air instead of metal, as he spins Gottralatan around, tonfa lashing out to strike the small of the Gundam’s back. It only meets a saber as the Gaia goes on one knee, using the inertia to bring about a backwards parry that’s almost picture perfect. Still on one knee, Tyrus lashes out with his left leg, using the massive inertia to sweep the Gottralatan from its feet.

The resulting crash causes dust to rise to the heavens, and the cockpit to shake inside the Gott. Will grimaces, but uses the dust to his advantage. Before it can clear, the pink mobile suit jumps from zero visibility, head butting the Gundam. The beam cutter activates, and the resulting clash leaves a deep gash on the Gaia, completely cutting open one of the eye cameras. Tyrus manages to push away before any further damage is done, getting a nice swipe in with his left saber on the Gottralatan’s left shoulder actuator.

As they part again, each pilot is fully concentrated, both experiencing first blood, and both wanting more. The tonfa on Gott’s right hand spins softly as if a martial arts demonstration, but little else moves, not even the wind. When they shift forward this time, it’s at a measured pace, each waiting for the other to make a move first, and in the end, both acting at the same time. Gaia Gear aims high, doing a classical thrust at its Gottraltan, while its opponent aims low, trying to take out the Gaia at the waist. To both pilots’ credit, they react well, with Will activating his beam shield at the last moment, while Tyrus quickly pushes his hip in, using his attached Hyper beam rifle as an impromptu shield to protect the joint.

For several moments they remain in this position, a contest of strength and will to see which power will fail the first, or which frame will show a flaw. Finally it is Tyrus who acts, purposely brushing his hip joint against the Gott’s tonfa and spinning his saber in a wide arc. Not expecting such a reckless move, Will loses his balance and begins to fall forward, but not before his left hand is cleanly lopped off. For the second time, the Gottraltan falls over, kicking up dust. But this time, there is no immediate response. Instead, Will takes his time getting up, gauging the extent of his enemy’s damages.

The Gaia Gear is visibly slouching, one leg barely managing to support the weight due damage. Gottraltan is in little better shape, with only one tonfa and a beam shield on its right arm to combat two beam sabers. Both know the next series will be the last one.

This time it’s Gottraltan that makes the head long rush, immediately putting Gaia Gear on the defensive. Although the tonfa’s range is much shorter, the odd shape allows a number of uncanny moves to be performed, and Will uses all he can think off. Cross V’s meet around the backs, which counters singing swallows, which in turn evade the Charlie spin. As each suit dances its dance of death, the world around them begins to glow. Sparks fly like fireworks from counter after counter, and miles away, civilians wonder if they are being treated to a midnight show. Sweat drips from both pilots faces, and in the end, the result hinges on just one maneuver…

Will flicks his tonfa forward, as if to hit straight in the chest before flinting away. He uses the move as a feint for his true attack, as his beam shield activates in a downward chop. Meanwhile, Tyrus plays defensively, waiting for just the right moment to overload his right beam saber. The plasma expands, and he swings diagonally, hoping to overwhelm his opponent with sheer power.

And then there’s silence again, as both competitors’ beam weaponry die. It is unclear what the result is, until the Gaia gear’s left arm comes off at the shoulder, along with a good deal of the side armor. Spent, the Gaia Gear falls to its knees.

“Perhaps it is I who will be carrying you home tonight, friend,” Will finally lets out, breath heavy as if he was running a marathon. “And when we get there, we’ll drink, and perhaps find a few girls and dance.”

Outcome: Will Ackerman wins, Tyrus Neelan loses Gottraltan: 2 Day’s Damage Gaia Gear Alpha: 3 Day’s Damage

Penelope versus Xi

In the cockpit of the Penelope, Celeste Tessier sits, enraptured in a book. Today, it happens to be the Divine Comedy. She sighs as the Inferno closes:

We mounted up, he first and I the second,
Till I beheld through a round aperture
Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.

Celeste traces her fingers over the illustrations; brilliant watercolors, depicting Hell in all its horrible glory. There is something about the art, along with those beautiful, ancient words, that can still take her breath away. Her opponent for the day, Theodore Roth, has insisted that they postpone the beginning of the duel for several minutes, which has now stretched into nearly an hour. Why, Theo had never told her. So, now, Celeste sits, consumed by Dante’s opus, awaiting the beginning of the fray.

Roughly five hundred meters away, Theodore Roth is having a very, very different kind of spiritual experience…

“Goddamn,” she whispers. She cuts the crushed up Vicadin with her ID card and bends her head down. Theo takes a deep breath through her nose, inhaling the prescription drug. “I say goddamn.”

It only takes a few moments for Theo to get comfortably high. “Celeste,” she says, choking over her own voice. “Are you ready?”

“Oh!” chirps Celeste, snapping the book shut. “Sure… I was ready forty-five minutes ago but…” She doesn’t have a chance to say anything more, however, because at that moment, she sees a volley of half a dozen missiles leaving the Xi.

“Oh my,” she says. Ironically, she is in fact not quite ready and it is all she can do to open up with her vulcans and knock down most of the missiles. The last one she manages to avoid by gracefully skating out of the way. Fortunately for Celeste, Theo is a very, very bad shot.

“Damn,” Theo growls. She launches another volley of missiles before taking off and narrowly avoiding the return fire from the Penelope. “What I need here is a plan…” As she lands, the Xi twists and fires. The shot slices toward the other Gundam… only to be absorbed by the other unit’s beam barrier.

“Damn,” growls Celeste, unknowingly mimicking her opponent. She too takes off and, once safely in the air, opens up, spraying the ground with beam fire. The Xi zigs and zags wildly, not really dodging effectively but barely taking any damage owing to its beam barrier. Finally, the Gundam comes to a stop. A pair of funnels zip out of the Xi and speed towards the Penelope.

“Why not try these…?” Theo breathes heavily, her eyes becoming blood shot. The funnels spin and slide through the air, sending thin slices of light into the heavily armed mobile seuit. Celeste twists around, the Penelope desperately trying to knock out the two weapons. Despite having both beam sabers out and all vulcans firing rapidly, she can’t manage to kill either funnel. The Penelope is rocked suddenly when another salvo of missiles from the Xi crashes into it. This time, Celeste can’t avoid them. The dragon-like Gundam goes crashing into the ground. Their job of distracting done, the funnels withdraw.

Theo is just about to engage in a victory snort when three missiles come shooting out of the heap that is the Penelope. They fly straight towards the Xi but when its pilot goes to shoot them down, they gracefully swerve out of the way, much to her terror.

“Uh-oh,” whispers Theo. The funnel missiles hit dead on. One takes out the Xi’s beam rifle and the other two smash into its knee joints. The Gundam stays very still for a second before crumpling to the ground. The mobile suit’s thrusts catch it before it falls, though.

“I’m not done yet,” Theo hisses, by now very far gone. The Xi shoots forward, its legs hanging, useless, towards the Penelope, both beam sabers out.

“Theo!” Celeste screams. “Don’t you think we should stop now?” The sight of the Xi, speeding towards, levitating slightly like some sort of avenging angel of death, is more than enough to make her highly consider calling everything off. She steels herself, however, and launches every funnel missile her mind can handle. It gives her a terrible headache but she keeps at it, guiding a salvo of seven missiles towards the Xi. Theo is too concerned with her charge to worry about the missiles coming towards her and, even when they crash into the Xi, knocking off the legs at the knee, smashing one of the main sensors, and even crushing one of the other gundam’s arms.

Finally, the two Gundams slam together, or, rather, the Xi smashes into the Penelope, driving its beam saber deep into the leg of the huge machine. The Penelope, however, manages to angle just one funnel missile into the head of the Xi. At such close range, the missile knocks a vicious hole straight through the face of the other mobile weapon. There is a second’s pause before the head unit detonates.

The two units stand together, locked in a sort of bizarre, violent embrace.

“Um, Theo?” Celeste ventures. There is no answer, however: Theo lies, face first in her console, passed out and drooling over the controls.

“I guess I… win?” Celeste whispers cautiously. When an answer doesn’t come, a small smile appears on her face.

Outcome: Celeste Tessier wins, Theodore Roth loses Penelope: 3 Day’s Damage Xi: 3 Day’s Damage

Shining versus Re-GZ

Clad in his personal mobile trace suit, Raidon Shirunai stares out across a windswept plain at the Re-GZ. Running his hand slowly over the ceremonial white crane placed across the chest, he closes his eyes for a moment. The memories are faint, but they are there. Bits and pieces of them. A moment with his mother, laughing as she taught him his lessons in honor and duty. Training with his father. Mere fragments, not nearly enough to construct a full recollection of his past. “But more than enough,” he thinks, “to save this world I love… Or destroy it.” Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Raidon settles himself into an attack posture. His trace suit has become like a second skin to him, and he runs through a quick kata to check that its connection to the Shining Gundam is fully active. “Perfect.”

Opposite him, Beck Grant squints into his viewfinder. His Re-GZ is in prime condition, as is he. His job is simple – prepare himself for the coming days ahead, days of strife, of combat. To best be ready to do so, he has chosen the opportunity granted him by one of the other members of Orb’s fledgling armed forces. By a mutual agreement, they had chosen this location, this time, to fight. And now here he was. Running one hand through his long hair, he dries his palms against his rather old clothing. It wouldn’t do to have a brilliant maneuver ruined by a slip of the fingers, certainly not now. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Raidon nods, and his mobile suit echoes the gesture – enough of a signal to start the fight that Beck extends both his arms and fires both grenade launchers, immediately sending a salvo streaking across the distance separating the two suits. In the agile mobile fighter, though, it is mere child’s play for Raidon to dodge the explosions, which he does. The younger pilot knows that if he can close to within melee range, this fight is most likely over. Unfortunately for him, so does the elder of the two. Beck releases another round, and immediately goes to his hip for his beam rifle. Once more the nimble Shining dodges around the handful of grenades, attempting to close with the Re-GZ. Raidon isn’t entirely prepared for the secondary attacks from the beam weapon, and takes a couple of glancing blows. Still, he has nearly closed the entire distance between the two suits.

Shrugging, Beck discards the rifle, opting to give melee combat with the Shining a shot – “Consider it a learning experience at worst” – and pulls out his two beam sabers. Igniting the pair, he sets and waits, as the Shining comes charging in at full speed, no longer needing to dodge the constant barrage. With a jumping kick, the mobile fighter takes full advantage of its great close-combat abilities from the get-go. Spinning around the kick, the Re-GZ tries a downward slice to remove the leg, but it has already been retracted. A one-two punch combo by the Shining misses, but the follow-up shoulder tackle manages to send the Re-GZ sprawling backwards.

“This can’t be wrong. This is so pure… This feeling – to fight!” Raidon sends the Shining into a whirling series of punches, kicks, and acrobatic dodges. The Re-GZ is hopelessly outclassed, though Beck does put up a good fight. One lucky stroke actually manages to connect as the Shining is moving in for another shoulder tackle, sending the beam saber straight through the shoulder armor – a clean cut. Beck flicks the saber downwards, and it rakes partially across the Shining’s torso, sending sheets of pain up and down Raidon’s side.

Unfortunately, this has the side effect of angering Raidon, who affects a quick snap-kick across the Re-GZ’s arm. It is sent flying off into the distance, and Beck goes stumbling back. Seizing the opportunity, Raidon dashes forward and does a quick roundhouse kick to the Re-GZ’s upper torso. Partially crushed, it falls backwards, and the suit’s internal safties shut it down.

“I must explore this feeling further… The glory of the fight.” Raidon is nearly wide-eyed with the experience; training and sparring are one thing, but a full-on battle with live weaponry is an entirely different matter.

In the Re-GZ, Beck is mumbling angrily to himself. “Learning experience, right. What’d we learn today, Beck? Going heads-up in close combat with a Gundam Fighter is a bad idea.” All the while, behind the two, small brush fires from the explosion craters continue to burn, scoring the previously-untouched grasslands of Mars with the memories of a battle.

Outcome: Raidon Shiranui wins, Beck Grant loses Shining Gundam: 1 day’s damage Re-GZ: 2 day’s damage

Sword Calamity versus Impulse versus Calamity

Mars. Once a red graveyard, empty but for the massive volcanoes – tombstones marking the death of the planet itself, for heat had died long ago deep in the core – now resonates with life, organisms thriving on its surface and deep within its seas. Grass undulates in green waves over the plains, while forests and swamps run rampant over the terrain. It is thanks to the intervention of humans that this once-dead planet now pulses with joyful life, perhaps an atonement for the destruction of their mother Gaia. And they sing in joyful thanksgiving, from their home in the only city to dot the landscape – Cagali.

But the times bring disruption to this peaceful utopia, once again at the intervention of humans. The sparks of war spread through the solar system, bringing a tone of watchful caution to the song of Cagali, the song of Orb, and thus rather than see everything they worked for destroyed the people of Mars have decided to fight back, to defend what they hold dear.

However, vigilance requires being ready to face any threat from without, and that is exactly what the three pilots gathered on one of the green plains south of Cagali are concentrating on. They prepare: Valmont Mosquz, in his orange Sword Calamity; Carlos Sanctus, in his blue Calamity; and Lance Mithaniel, in his blue-on-white Impulse. Once all three finish the start-up procedures, they launch into combat.

Valmont and Carlos, friends, almost automatically target the Impulse from the start of the battle. Lance’s eyes widen in surprise, but narrow as he barely dodges an incoming boomerang – he should’ve expected this.

The Impulse, equipped with its Force silhouette pack, leaps into the sky. Its large thruster pack burns red as it rockets past the other two, looping around and loosing beam rifle blasts as it approaches. The Calamity raises its shield, taking the few shots that manage to get near on the protective device while the Sword Calamity simply ignores them. And due to Lance’s poor aim, comes through the barrage entirely unscathed, rising on its own column of flame to meet the Impulse with one of its anti-ship swords. Lance reacts quickly, igniting his beam saber in response and clashing with the other suit. Their weapons bounce off of each other several times, the two Orb pilots almost evenly matched.

Lance is able to get the upper hand, however, as he spies an opening in Valmont’s defense and quickly dodges an incoming slice. The Sword Calamity cuts through the clear air of Mars’ atmosphere, a miss as the Impulse dips below it and thrusts his own beam saber into the other suit’s lower torso. Sparks fly as the saber breaks through the Trans Phase armor and pierces vital components.

Much, much larger sparks fly as Lance cries out in surprise, a massive beam from the ground shearing off the entirety of his suit’s left arm.

“Son of a bitch…” Carlos mutters, even while aiming for another blast. It was difficult to get a clean shot at the opponent without hitting his temporary ally…the dour man suddenly stops as a thought occurs to him. His temporary ally…

Valmont laughs in triumph as he raises his anti-ship sword for a final time, about to lay waste to the Impulse’s head. As he begins to bring it down, two massive beam blasts engulf both suits.

“Hey!” Val yells, his suit smoldering and burnt. “What gives?”

Carlos makes no reply, meticulously preparing to fire his bazooka – he decided to save the Scylla for another day, as the powerful cannon might inadvertently kill one of his opponents – and pulls the trigger. The round bursts out of the muzzle, rocketing toward the other two suits.

The Sword Calamity and Impulse split, escaping the blast of the round exploding, and each rocket in toward the Calamity. Carlos notices this sudden change in targets and feels a slight bit of panic, but holds it in check as he fires his Schlag cannons at the Force Impluse, it being the faster suit and therefore the higher priority – or so considered by his inhumanly quick Coordinator brain.

This time, Lance is easily able to spot the incoming blast and respond accordingly, dancing off to the side with ease and dodging the powerful beam. His Force pack’s engines roar as he rockets toward the Calamity, deciding to rely on his close combat skills rather than his somewhat shoddy aim. He nears the blue suit and slashes quickly several times, two of the attacks glancing off of the shield but the third impacting on the Calamity’s shoulder, partially severing it before Carlos shrugs him off.

Suddenly, Lance’s computers blare a warning claxon, but by then it is too late. A massive overhead cleave with one of the Sword Calamity’s “Schwert Gewehr” swords, and the Impulse’s Force pack is cloven in twain, and another slash says goodbye to the legs of the powerful Gundam. Unable to participate in the fight any longer, Lance curses his bad luck and powers down his suit.

Carlos takes advantage of the few seconds that his suit’s brother needs to take care of the Impulse to turn and take off, skimming over the green plains for a bit before turning to the victorious Sword Calamity and loosing another blast from his twin Schlag cannons. The two beams lance toward the orange suit, one missing but the second impacting on its shoulder and blasting through, disabling his arm and damaging the already beat up suit heavily.

Diagnostics scroll through Valmont’s cockpit, his eyes scanning them once and then shutting them off. The Sword Calamity was heavily damaged, yes, but it is still capable of combat and until then Val isn’t about to give up. In its left arm the suit grabs a boomerang, readying it and leaping off of the ground and into flight.

Carlos sets loose the necessary bazooka shot, surprised when the poorly aimed blast rocks the Sword Calamity more than he thought it would. The dour pilot’s lips press together in a slight grin as he triggers the backpack cannons once again, the shots lancing out over the green plains and missing the other suit by mere millimeters. Val gets lucky – right before the shots had impacted he had changed course out of pure instinct, on a hunch that could win him the battle. With a flick of his wrist and a massive arc of the Sword Calamity’s arm, he launches the Midas Messer boomerang high into the air, then quickly draws the last anti-ship sword in his possession and charges.

Carlos gives a quick glance upward to the boomerang, then lowers his eyes to the main target once more. That second is all Val needs to close the distance, and as it passes, the Calamity finds itself set once again by another mobile suit in close range. Carlos jettisons the bazooka and uses both hands to maneuver the shield, barely catching each thrust and slash of the sword on it. He attempts to fire the ram cannon on his shield a couple times, but at this close range he finds it difficult to aim.

Valmont attacks a few more times with his sword, but he’s merely waiting.

Carlos barely manages to dodge or block the last few swipes, and halts in confusion when the Sword Calamity suddenly backs off a few steps from his target. And in a second of insight it occurs to him. Frantic, Carlos throws the throttle into full reverse, barely reacting in time to dodge the Midas Messer boomerang on its descent as the weapon carves a large hole in the ground with its beam blade. But before he can recover, Sanctus finds that his cameras have all gone to static, and then black.

“Nice battle.” Valmont pants, sweat dripping from his face as he grins. The Sword Calamity stands tall on the plains of Mars, its orange armor shining and its single massive sword embedded deep into the head of the blue Calamity.

Outcome: Valmont Mosquz wins, Carlos Sanctus and Lance Mithaniel lose Sword Calamity: 2 Day’s Damage Calamity: 3 Day’s Damage Impulse: 3 Days’ Damage

Blitz versus Akatsuki versus Victory 2 versus Titania versus ZZ

It was often said that one never truly saw the universe until they crossed the median of the belt. On this morning, one can appreciate such claims. Sol shines like a distant beacon, reflecting off of Jupiter’s many moons, marking a picturesque location for a floating platform, often used for cadets to train with their mobile suits.

It is here that several uniform pilots stand, looking at one another. It would be today that they would test their mettle in their suits, and the anticipation is heavy in the air. They are Brothers in Arms, one and all members of the Confederation, and yet … they are enemies, if for the moment.

“You know the rules,” Hiromi murmurs quietly, giving the four other pilots a soft nod. “No intentional torso shots, and when someone fires a flare, they’ve withdrawn from the duel.”

“That’s the third time you mentioned it, haus,” Octavious spits, giving the smaller man a hard stare before hefting a gigantic piece of armor. It had become rumor that only the pilot of the Double Zeta was crazy enough to wear a hundred pound piece of armor in a mobile suit battle.

“Please don’t fight,” Kyra Trey squeaks, high voice and demeanor seeming to be the polar opposite to Octavious, despite the similar procedures done to them. “I mean… we’re all friends here, until the battle starts.” Her smile is an innocent one, and yet something glinted in her eyes…

“Girl’s got a point, so why don’t we jus’ get to it. Sooner we get out there, the sooner I can get bragging rights.” Jack gives a haphazard grin to the rest of the group and flashes the “V” sign, before grabbing the wench into his Blitz Gundam.

All the while, Thomas Gustav is quiet, only rolling his eyes at Jack’s antics before walking towards his suit: the golden Akatsuki. The other three follow this example, and within twenty minutes they are ready. All around them, the spaceway clears, as dozens of shuttles veer away, anticipating quite a firefight.

“Alright, let’s start this.” Without waiting for the others, Octavious presses a combination inside of the ZZ’s cockpit, causing the countdown. “5.”

“4,” Hiromi mutters, hands gripping the Victory’s controls hard.

“3,” Thomas continues, making final systems checks.

“2!” Kyra shouts excitedly, the Titania seeming to mirror her fidgety nature.

“…”

Where the Blitz once was, there is only space. Before anyone can question it, a green flare fires from a nearby station, and the battle begins. It is ZZ that breaks the silence first, verniers activated full blast as he flies straight towards Victory 2. His attack seems simple at first, as several missiles blast forward, followed closely with dozens of rounds of vulcan fire. Hiromi’s response is expected, as half of the ballistics are dodged, while the rest bounce harmlessly off the Victory’s beam shields. What’s unexpected is when the ZZ continues forward, running headlong into the other Gundam.

“Jesus, are you crazy?” Hiromi half shouts into the communicator, as he struggles to push himself off of the bulkier unit.

“What? Afraid of a hug?” Octavious’ chuckle is sinister, but not so much as the beam saber he suddenly ignites…

Nearby, the Akatsuki is facing the full fury of the Titania, and seems to be handling it quite well. Thomas’ face is a mask of concentration, as he continues to fly backwards, doing what he can to stay out of melee range of his opponent. The Titania’s funnels are largely ignored, and for good reason, for the psychically controlled units seem to do little to the Akatsuki’s armor. Indeed, it appears the opposite, as more than a few seem to implode as their own beams are redirected back at themselves.

“Damn,” Kyra curses, sweat beginning to bead on her face. Perhaps she had picked the wrong target, but it’s too late for that. All she can do now is focus on continuing her assault, all the while keeping her eyes on several remote units all trained on her appendages. Normally they wouldn’t b a concern, but Kyra can’t feel any psychic resonance on them at all, and that alone stands highly annoying. “Just gotta.. find a weak spot…”

“There ain’t one, girl,” Thomas remarks with a grin, even as his DRAGOON system registers a critical hit to the Titania’s leg joint. “Face it, you picked the wrong targ—”

What’s said next is lost, as a small explosion causes the Akatsuki to flip over. Kyra is the first person to realize what has happened, when the remote weapons attacking her go dead. She glances up, and laughs as she notices the lancer dark sticking out of the golden mobile suit.

“Always bring a knife to a gun fight,” Jack grins, as the Blitz seems to reappear from thin air. He even flashes a thumbs up. Before he notices Titania’s funnel’s starting on him. “…Maybe I didn’t think this one through…” Jack mutters, right as they begin to open fire.

As this happens, the Victory and ZZ are engaged in a heavy saber battle. At the moment it’s a stalemate, as Victory parries the Double’s attack with his saber and shield, suit still relatively unmarred other than the dents caused by the high speed collision. The ZZ, on the other hand has several burn marks, due partly to the lack of the Victory’s beam defenses, and the fact Octavious seems more bent on attack than defense. In either hand, the Zeta hefts a blazing saber, with the attached shields on each forearm heavily cut and melted. And yet despite all the superficial damage, it is Octavious on the continued offensive, giving Hiromi little time to present a counterattack.

“Give it up. Sooner or later you’re gonna tire out,” Octavious mutters, making a fancy double slash that the Victory barely dodges. In a way, he’s right, for Hiromi’s parries are becoming sloppier and sloppier. The next combination attack actually takes a good chunk off of the Victory’s shoulder armor. Octavious smiles in victory, only to realize that he has opened himself to a counter attack.

“You’re a bit cocky,” Hiromi replies calmly, flipping his beam saber around and stabbing it into the ZZ’s left hand. The super heated plasma spears into the opponent’s handle, causing and overload. The resulting explosion takes off a good deal of ZZ’s forearm, and pushes the two competitors backwards.

“You’re gonna pay for that one dweeb.” Octavious mutters, pointing his remaining saber at the Victory.

“I don’t think so…” A strange voice interrupts.

“Who’s that?!” Both Hiromi and Octavious say at the same time.

* * *

Somehow, the Blitz has managed to survive the initial onslaught of bits, mainly due to the suit’s quickness and a good deal of luck. His only concern now is how to survive a second. An idea hits Jack at the last possible instant, and he fires his anchor, and pulls, causing the Akatsuki to suddenly lurch in front of him. The deft motion happens just before the barrage of funnel fire, the Akatsuki becoming a human shield for the swifter mobile suit. The ploy surprises even Kyra, and the Titania moves a bit late as her own fire bounces towards the suit. She manages to evade the most lethal shots, but one manages to hit right on her skirt armor, further damaging the already weak legs of the unit.

Seeing use for the seemingly disabled mobile suit, Jack retracts his anchor before grabbing the Akatsuki and holding it close to the Blitz, creating a body shield against the ever continuing tide of the Titania’s funnels. With its free hand, Blitz fires its beam rifle, all the while circling around the Titania unit.

“Hey Jack,” Thomas murmurs, hands full of wires inside of the Akatsuki.

“Yeah? I’m kinda busy,” Jack replies, swiveling to deflect four beam shots.

“You remember you stabbing me in the back?”

“Yeah?”

“That was only my DRAGOON system,” Thomas grins as he twists off one more wire. The Akatsuki’s eyes suddenly blaze alive, and its left hand turns, causing the dual saber to pop out and ignite mere meters below the Blitz’s cockpit. With a single slash down, Thomas takes off the Blitz’s right hip and leg, before pointing its sword back at Blitz. “Surrender?”

Jack’s eyes, meanwhile, are bulging, but there’s little he can do other than light his white flare, signaling his withdrawal.

Thomas raises his hand in Victory, only to have it soured as he returns his attention back to the battle. Not more than three meters away, the Titania has its own saber pointed at the enemy’s cockpit. To make matters worse, all the remaining funnels surround the Akatsuki, pointed at the breach made by the Lancer dart.

“Aw crap,” Thomas can mutter, before firing his own flare.

Kyra merely beams at her own good fortune before blasting away, in search of the final remaining competitors.

* * *

Neither Hiromi nor Octavious expect what suddenly occurred. One moment they stood facing off, beam sabers at ready. The next moment, the Double Zeta erupts in a plume of grenade explosions. A few seconds later, the still smoking unit it hit square on with precise blast from a Hyper Mega Launcher, which causes even more sparks to fly. Double Zeta is a hearty unit, but the combination of the harm already sustained, and the pilot’s focus on another target is too much. “Damnit!” Octavious curses as systems begin to shut down, before long leaving the ZZ a simple hunk of dented metal moving only on pre-existing inertia.

The attacker soon becomes clear as the Zeta flies in, rifle still smoking from its shots. “Score one for the good guys,” Remus says to himself with a grin, only to have his communication’s screen suddenly come to life.

“…who are you to stop an honorable duel. What’s worse, what sort of man would ambush his own comrades?!” By the end of his statement, Hiromi is shouting. The Victory 2 mirrors its owner’s mood, as its back begins to shimmer, producing the much fabled ‘wings of light.’ Without much other fanfare, Hiromi attacks, flying true at full speed towards the intruder.

“Crap,” Remus mutters, and begins to act, unloading his rifle, vulcan and missiles at the approaching Victory. Most stray wide, and a good deal are either deflected by the wings, or the Victory’s accompanying beam shields. However, one or two hit their marks, causing the Victory to lurch in its approach. It’s for little good however as Hiromi flies towards, and subsequently past the Zeta, deactivating the wings shortly afterward. At first it isn’t clear what happens, and then the Zeta lurches, right arm and half of its head falling off cleanly from the contact with the powerful Minovsky Drive system.

“Now that didn’t go as expected.” All Remus can do is sigh, and wait to be towed back to port.

Meanwhile, Hiromi takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself after his last maneuvers. Noticing a largely desolate battlefield, he is about to claim victory, when out of nowhere, his monitors light up with beam fire coming from all directions. Even the neam shields can do little against the omni directional attack, and before Hiromi can even plan an effective defense, the suit shuts down.

“V for Victory!” Kyra pronounces, quite satisfied with herself. After all, luck plays a part in battle just as much as skill. “So which of you is buying the winner dinner tonight?”

Outcome: Kyra Trey wins, Others Lose Titania: 2 Day’s Damage Blitz: 2 Day’s Damage Akatsuki: 2 Day’s Damage ZZ: 3 Day’s Damage Zeta: 3 Day’s Damage Victory 2: 3 Day’s Damage

Nu versus Zanspine

“It’s so pretty out there,” Nikolai says. His usual ever present crescent moon smile is a little wider than usual as he stares out one of the double re-enforced windows in Hangar 2. Perhaps in the process of becoming a soldier Nikolai had begun to neglect the beauty of the environments around him, but he is making up for all of that today. Jupiter and her moons have never looked so lovely. And though Nikolai has been at Axis a decent amount of time, only now is Jupiter beginning to show him her beauty. “Better late than never,” he chirps quietly to himself. He knows that he was supposed to have launched fifteen minutes ago. He knows that Kiley has already launched. He also knows that she will wait. She is, after all, a very patient girl. He needs more time to enjoy the sites.

As Nikolai predicted, Kiley doesn’t make a fuss about his tardiness. She does, however, scoff a bit when he tells her over her comm-unit where he has been.

“Here I was thinking some emergency was holding you up,” the girl with the red wine colored hair says, “That or you were reading up on me.”

“Reading up on you?” Kiley cannot see Nikolai, but she can hear his smile.

“Some of the mechanics thought it would be nice to give me some pointers. Not that I needed them but… I told them I was having a training duel with you and they told me that you had a reputation for ‘using any advantage’ you could get. I had figured you were off somewhere trying to figure out something to exploit.”

“Well, I don’t know much about you right now. You’re safe.” With that Nikolai hits his thrusters and boosts the Zanspine upwards so that it is parallel with the Nu. Kiley takes a deep breath, touches the cross around her neck, and says a little prayer. She prays for the Lord to give her strength and lead her to victory. She prays for this duel to be swift. She prays that neither she nor her comrade is injured – but she is more sincere when she prays for the former.

There is no official signal for the battle to start. There is no need for one. Something clicks in the back of both Newtypes’ heads and quite suddenly both Galilean Confederation suits snap into action. Thrusters are hit hard, remote weapons are deployed, and beam rifle shots are taken. Nikolai is forced on the defensive as Kiley is able to project the Nu’s Fin Funnels towards the Zanspine quicker than he can get his Twinkle Bits towards her.

“You’re pretty good with those,” Nikolai says as the Zanspine dodges a shot from a Fin Funnel and takes aim with its beam rifle. Two shots fly right past the Nu’s head. Kiley doesn’t respond, she notices a Twinkle Bit creeping up from her side and boosts upwards to avoid getting hit by the shot she knows the bit will fire. She dodges two more very well-aimed beam rifle shots and then thrusts forward towards the Zanspine. The girl lets out a battle cry that is vicious and ear-piercing. Nikolai is silently impressed.

Nu charges with its vulcans glaring and its beam rifle firing at a very fast – albeit not very accurate – rate. Nikolai sighs as he is forced on the defensive yet again. The Zanpsine thrusts backwards as fast as it can go, while firing back at the Nu with its own rifle. Both suits recall their remote weapons and add their fire to the back and forth. Both suits take their share of hits, but Zanpsine is clearly being damaged more than the Nu. Nikolai, knowing that he has started this battle off on the wrong foot, realizes what he must do if he is to win.

Zanpsine stops its retreat and thrusts towards the Nu. The Twinkle Bits are left behind and the beam rifle is dropped. Kiley stops her charge and continues to fire, but she is visibly confused by the Zanspine’s new tactics. However, her confusion is allayed when she sees the Zanspine’s beam fans ignite. Kiley has never fought against “beam wings” before but she knows the lethal weapons when she sees them. Kiley has very little time to think, but in the moments she does have the Nu ignites its beam saber and makes a wild retaliatory slash that is able to remove the Zanspine’s left leg. Unfortunately, Kiley can not celebrate, because in exchange for the Zanspine’s leg she has lost all of her visuals. She puts two and two together and realizes the the Nu has lost its head.

“You have a strong warrior spirit,” Nikolai says on a fly by, “And you fought very well.”

“We end here?” she asks. “I’ve only just begun.”

“Better to reserve ourselves for now, and go back to enjoying the sights around. There will be more battles to fight, outside this beautiful sphere.”

Outcome: Nikolai Silja wins, Kiley Alexander loses Zanspine: 2 Day’s Damage Nu: 2 Day’s Damage

Quavarze versus Regenerate

Diego Pearce arriveds at the location that he and his opponent, Aexion Nsira, have agreed upon for their honorable duel, several miles above the surface of Luna. Stopping abruptly in the airless void, he transforms his Quavarze from its flightless bird-like mobile armor mode to mobile suit. His opponent, one of the oddball female Knights, still has not arrived.

"This is why women should stay home while the men fight..." Diego mutters. Several minutes later, a hulking form appears on his screen. After magnifying the image several times, it can be made out to be a long, streamlined ship. One of the oddest configurations he's ever seen, as well.

"I apologize for my tardiness. I am ready to begin as soon as you are," Aexion's voice comes through the Quavarze's cockpit speakers. Diego only grimaces and growls with impatience.

"Very well," the male Eve Knight grinds out, "Launch your mobile suit and we will begin."

"I already have..." Aexion replies flatly. The object approaching Diego slows and stops, and that's when the Lunar Knight realizes what he’s looking at is not a small ship, but a giant mobile weapon. Shifting and moving, parts of the Regenerate Gundam reconfigure as a thirty-five meter tall suit. Easily twice the height of the Quavarze, the Regenerate unfolds one of the star points over its right arm and ignites a single beam sword, and quickly dispells any hopes Diego held onto that his suit might still have greater melee reach than his opponent. Drawing his face tight with concentration, Diego ignites the beam cutters at the end of the Quavarze's long, snake-like arms and moves in to attack.

Swinging the Quavarze's left snake hand at his opponent, the whip-like appendage slashes out towards the massive Regenerate. Moving the gargantuan beam sword to a downward 45 degree angle, Aexion cathces the beam cutter and deflects it away from Regenerate. Unfolding a second starpoint, Aexion produces another beam sword and jabs it toward the Quavarze, the smaller and nimbler mobile suit twisting away from the thrust, at the same time whipping both snake arms toward the Regenerate at a staggered pace. Twisting the giant Gundam, Aexion manages to deflect the first beam cutter, but can only move the Regenerate's right arm into the path of the second to prevent it from doing any major damage.

Diego grins as he realizes his advantage and moves in to attack once more. His joy turns to a look of shock as the Regenerate folds its last two beam swords over its legs and counterattacks. Swinging one of the leg blades up, the Blitzer Knight forces Quavarze on the defensive, making it blast to the side to avoid the strike. Twisting around, the Regenerate swings the right arm blade in a vicious arc toward its opponent, forcing yet another dodge from the smaller suit.

Grunting with effort, the Natural pilot attempts to keep up with his Coordinator foe. However, each time Diego makes a move to once again go on the offensive, one of the beam swords of the Regenerate is swinging at him another time. Diego knows it is only a matter of time until one of the giant blades finds his suit. Twisting in a desperate attack, the Quavarze repeats the same attack that damaged the Regenerate before, spinning and sending both beam cutters at a staggered pace.

Aexion, however, is ready this time. Reacting quickly, the Coordinator cuts the snake hand of the first attack, sending the beam cutter flying off into space. Catching the second beam cutter on another beam sword, the Regenerate levels yet another at the head of the Quavarze, allowing for an honorable end to the duel.

Outcome: Aexion Nsira wins, Diego Pearce loses Regenerate: 1 Day’s Damage Quavarze: 2 Day’s Damage

Superior versus Neue Ziel versus Belphagor

“You know, you really should be able to find ways to avoid conflicts like this.” Gideon Abrahms sighs, as A.L.I.C.E. had been going on like this for some time now. He gestures slightly within the cockpit of the Superior. “Look, you and I both know that between us we should be fine. It’s a matter of risk vs. reward here.” The young boy – closer to a man, now – thought back to earlier that day.

~ ~ ~

Purely in the interest of curiosity, he had been wandering around the hangars looking in at some of the various ships and mobile weapons stored. Perusing the network via his powerful wristwatch-computer, he had spotted a pair that looked to be more interesting than the usual boring fodder. So with a couple of taps, he had slipped through security, and was examining the (much) larger of the two when a yell turned him about quickly.

“What in the hell are you doing here?!” Aeschylus Perostovski had advanced across the hangar floor quickly, and practically grabbed Gideon by the scruff of his neck. Only the quick reflexes of the young pilot had allowed him to avoid getting collared, though Perostovski looked like he was going to do more than that. “This is my property!” He gestured towards the towering form of the Neue Ziel, which rested scant meters away. “Why are you in here? And, I guess a better question would be, HOW are you in here?”

Gideon had been about to answer, when another man had entered the hangar – this one the masked form of (though he did not know it at the time) Andrew Baskind. Now, being masked in and of itself wasn’t surprising (the things seemed to be all the rage, for some reason or another). But your average mask-wearer, or possibly even or abnormal one, still probably didn’t have a setup quite as elaborate as the approaching man. In fact… squinting through his glasses, Gideon was able to recognize a distinct similarity between the mask, and the second suit, resting on the other end of the floor. It had been at this moment that A.L.I.C.E. had chosen to speak up.

“You know, that is what happens when you breach protocol too many times, Gideon.” Forgetting himself, the young boy immediately whipped off a snappy “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, mom.” Taken aback, both Aeschylus and the newcomer took a closer look at Gideon, who had decided that was a very inopportune moment to make a mistake. Even more inopportune had been the smile that slowly spread across Perostovski’s face, giving Gideon a decidedly unpleasant feel. He had walked over to Gideon and put a friendly arm across his shoulders.

“Look, I recognize you from a few months ago – the glasses are a dead giveaway. I’m sure there’s a good explanation for all this. How about you simply explain things to me and my associate, and we can decide what to do from there. Alternatively…” At this point, Aeschylus looked darkly at the young hacker. “Alternatively, we could try other means of persuasion – my friend over here is quite certain that there is somebody following him. Perhaps it is you?” This was a bluff of the highest magnitude by the young Jewish pilot – if anybody was unwilling to resort to torture, it would be him – too much historical resonance. Then again, Gideon had no idea of this fact.

A short explanation later – of course leaving certain pertinent details out, such as the existence of A.L.I.C.E. as anything beyond a voice-command identifier – and the two older pilots stepped aside to discuss for a few moments. This time, it was Andrew who stepped forward. “So, you’re in here casing our mobile suits. Stealing, almost. But we’re going to offer you a deal. We think you might be able to help us – you’ve obviously got skill, if you could get in here. So we duel. Whatever excess parts you’re able to shave off either of us, you can keep. But we get access to your services, just in case we need it at some point. We think that’s a good deal, and Aeschylus agrees.” By this point, Gideon was too intrigued to even wonder at the odd turn of phrase…

~ ~ ~

“B'hatzlacha.” Having offered his well wishes to his opponents, Aeschylus flicks off his comm for the moment, and wipes his face with his hands. What is he doing here? He buys the Neue Ziel for protection, and now he’s out here playing war games with a couple of goyim! At the same time, in the back of his mind, a quote, long forgotten from his days as a student, bubbles to the forefront of his mind. “Fear is not the natural state of civilized people.” Right. Aung Sun Suu Kyi. She knew all about persecution, it’s true. Sure, but don’t forget about Hannah Arendt, Aeschylus. ‘Fear is an emotion indispensable for survival.’ And she was Jewish. Not to be outdone, once more his memories betrayed him. “Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.” Marie Curie…

Aeschylus doesn’t know about that. He really isn’t sure what to think – he’s still scared, he knows that much. But what he also knows is that, right now, he’s got a couple of other people sitting in giant metal deathtraps along with him, out here in space, and they are waiting. He flicks the comm back on. “Oh, right, sorry about that. Umm, whenever you’re ready.”

Andrew, in the Belphagor, has been getting more and more impatient to begin the flying. The ‘good luck’ from the Neue Ziel had set him on edge, and yet the Belphagor still sits idle. He feels so much better when he’s piloting in a battle. The Belphagor part of his mind agrees wholeheartedly, and the two of them contemplate various strategies to use against the two very different suits (a good idea, Andrew thinks). And whether or not he should kill the pilots of both when the battle is done (a bad idea, he decides). Suddenly Aeschylus’s second message cuts through his conversation, and the Belphagor leaps into action, heading straight at the humongous mobile armor. Perhaps this is a chance to finish, to a degree, the battle they had begun long ago.

In the Superior, Gideon is perfectly pleased with the Belphagor’s choice. He sits back in his seat. “ALICE, please set up a firing solution on the two suits. Fire at targets of opportunity, and let’s see if we can’t knock off a few nice big chunks.” He is already imagining what he might be able to do with some military-grade electronics hardware and wiring. As the AI goes to work, he moves his suit to attempt to get a better shot at both of them. “Warning…” A.L.I.C.E.’s voice blares through the cockpit speakers. “Initial analysis complete. The larger mobile weapon has some sort of beam deflection system operating. I am not sure if my weaponry can punch through it.” Gideon shrugs inwardly. “Okay, target the smaller suit. I don’t need to beat them both, I just need as much as I can carry from between the pair.

Meanwhile, the Belphagor has closed to melee range with stunning speed, taking Aeschylus off-guard. After a few hastily-aimed shots, only one of which manages to hit – a glancing blow on the shoulder that barely slows the charging suit down – he is unable to continue targeting the speedy smaller suit with his range weaponry. “Dammit.” The humongous armor unfurls its heavy claws and sub arms, and attempts to engage in close-range combat. He is at a significant disadvantage, as Andrew uses his greater skills to begin hounding the Neue at every turn. The Belphagor’s pilot lets out a small laugh.

“I have claws too, see!” The Belphagor’s claw arms extend as well, slashing, attempting to cut pieces that are less well-defended on the Neue. Meanwhile, Andrew extends his multitudinous heat wires, trying to ensnare the smaller sub arms and disable them as quickly as possible. Dodging in and out, around the larger Neue, he manages to connect when he shoots off one of his atomic scissors from the knees of the Belphagor. Aeschylus can do nothing but wince at the sickening *crunch* made as the shot connects, smashing deep into his suit’s midsection. Several lights flicker, and Aeschylus unhappily notes that his missile launch system has managed to fail completely. None can be fired, at least not this day…

“Firing solution locked.” Gideon smiles. “Fire at will, please, ALICE.” The Superior, largely forgotten to this point, will not be left so any longer. The highly powerful beam smartgun unleashes a massive series of blasts. Andrew notes the incoming energy signatures with bare time to spare, but in an ingenious move, attempts to maneuver so the Neue Ziel takes the shots instead of the Belphagor. He is only partially successful. As one of the massive blasts clips his knee, he is sent into a tailspin. “We need to get this under control, now!” He yells out in his cockpit, but it is too little avail. The Neue seizes on the advantage, worrying little about the beam weaponry of the Superior. One massive claw streaks out and catches the Belphagor below the calf. With a grim expression, Aeschylus jerks backwards on the controls, and the leg is shredded to pieces.

This action is not, however, without its own consequences. Aeschylus has not been paying much attention to his sub arms while focusing on the attack, and he pays the price for it. Several tendrils of heat wires wrap themselves around three of the sub arms, melting components and destroying key electrical relays. All three cease functioning, and one is actually sliced clean off near the base. A second powerful salvo from the Superior streaks towards the pair of suits, though, and this time one of the shots slams clean into the Neue’s I-field barrier. Even the powerful defensive mechanism flickers momentarily from the immense blast, and Aeschylus decides he has had enough.

“I’m not coming all the way out here to get ripped apart and shot up, dammit. You’ll have to find some other way to get ME!” He flings the Belphagor straight towards the Superior, and jets off directly behind it. Though Gideon is able to nimbly dodge the out-of-control suit, avoiding an angry Neue Ziel proves significantly more difficult. The Superior streaks backwards as the young pilot attempts to think up a solution. This proves ill-advised, though. The Neue suddenly stops, abruptly.

"Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad," Aeschylus whispers. He then unleashes hell. Almost all of the beam weaponry on the Neue Ziel – those weapons which hadn’t been disabled or destroyed by the powerful attacks of the Belphagor – opens up nearly simultaneously. With such a heavy power drain on the reactor, the I-field generator on the Ziel’s right side, that took an earlier direct hit from the smartgun, again flickers, and momentarily ceases functioning. Nevertheless, the Superior is nearly engulfed in wave after wave of destructive beam energy. Dashing and dodging, Gideon attempts to stay alive. “Return fire, return fire!” A.L.I.C.E. complies, attempting to knock out the Neue’s weaponry with several of the Superior’s own varied arsenal, and a couple of shots manage to make it through and take out a pair of shoulder cannons. But the advantage of the I-field generator on the Neue proves too great to overcome, and shortly the Superior is drifting, nearly powerless. “ALICE…” Gideon coughs – I think I may have broken something…Maybe it’s just a pulled muscle - “Shut down to conserve memory.” The AI wordlessly complies, and the remaining screens go dead.

Satisfied, Perostovski nods to himself, just moments before a massive blast from Aeschylus’s right rips apart a major portion of the Neue’s tail binder. The Belphagor had unleashed its sonic smasher cannon, blowing away a significant portion of the Neue Ziel’s offensive arsenal. Turning, Aeschylus squares off against Andrew once again. The Belphagor once more tries its bum-rush technique, attempting to close within melee range once more. Unfortunately for Andrew, this time Aeschylus is prepared for the tactic. Jetting backwards, he releases blast after blast from the main mega cannon, until an inopportune curl spins the entire right third of the Belphagor directly into the blast.

Breathing heavily, Aeschylus takes stock of the impressive amount of debris strewn around the area. He flicks on his comm once more. “Right, kid, you happy?” Though Gideon is feeling a bit better already, he still chooses not to speak, worried for A.L.I.C.E.’s memory banks. All the while, in the Belphagor, Andrew converses with himself on ways to improve his performance, and how to take advantage of the skills of the young computer specialist to protect himself from everybody who is following him…

Outcome: Aeschylus Perostovski wins, Andrew Baskind and Gideon Abrahms lose Neue Ziel: 3 day’s damage Belphagor: 3 day’s damage Superior: 3 day’s damage

Freedom versus Kowloon

The planet Jupiter is many things to many people. To some it’s the last beacon of Earth, while to others, it is merely the staging ground to reclaim their homeland. To some it means honor, and to others, faith. Joseph Coker is one of the latter, and despite his promise to duel Mark Carter, he is late, for he can’t bring himself to skip the services at his church. For his part, Mark is rather patient, and as Joe runs in, the other Confederation pilot offers a wave.

“Sorry I’m la—,” Joseph begins only to be waved off by Mark.

“No need, you ready to go?”

Joseph smiles and nods, clenching his fists in excitement. It’s time for him to test his abilities once again.

For this particular match up, the two find themselves on an orbiting flat platform, with several gravity wells providing a simulacrum to Lunar Gravity. Even so, space is a few hundred meters away, and it is pretty clear that one misstep could cause an unprepared suit to go spiraling out of control.

“So, rules?” Mark asks, making a few routine system checks as he climbs into Freedom Gundam. The towering mobile suit seems to have the advantage today in the space environment, but Mark is taking no chances. Once he’s satisfied with the diagnostic, he straps himself in and begins to heat the reactor.

“Normal. Just don’t kill me, and I don’t kill you. And may the best man win.” Though pretty positive sounding, Joseph sounds pained. Inside of the Kowloon, his body is literally being crushed by the Mobile Trace system, and yet somehow he doesn’t give in. A second later, arms and legs pop out of the plastic-like sheath, and the young man is one with his Gundam. In this fight, Freedom had the range, but Joseph knows he has the speed and reaction… if he can get close enough.

Both competitors finish the last of their warm ups, and then wait as the countdown begins overhead. As the clock reaches zero, there is a flare of vernier rockets, and the two begin their actions. Kowloon is the aggressor, running forward full speed at his opponent. Meanwhile, it is Freedom backpedaling, with Mark activates the Phase Shift armor and uses his targeting computers. A second later a stunning level of munitions seem to fire from the mobile arsenal, from CIWS guns to the hip mounted rail canons.

The weapons turn the sturdy platform floor into scrap metal in mere nanoseconds, and yet when the dust clears, the Kowloon isn’t among the wreckage. Instead, Mark looks up to see the mobile fighter in a full martial arts stance, balancing on top of a single pole as if it doesn’t have a care in the world

“Come on, Mark, you can do better than that,” Joseph grins, making a come ‘hither’ motion with his suit. The cocky action almost costs him the fight, as he barely jumps out of the way from another barrage. “Dang, that thing loads a punch,” Joe mutters as the Kowloon gets up from the spot it dove at.

“Is that good enough for you?” Mark replies, as he sets his suit to HiMAT, taking to the air. His plan is simple: if he stays away from the mobile fighter, he can win. Kowloon seems to have other plans, though, for before the Freedom can even go beyond fifty meters, a glowing cloth piece wraps around its ankle, and pulls it back. Despite the powerful thrusters on the Coordinator’s mobile suit, the Kowloon proves stronger, causing Freedom to veer out of its original path. The unit slams right into a nearby abandoned warehouse, coming to rest after quite a slide. Thanks to the armor, the only thing really damaged is Mark’s bottom, and perhaps a bit of his humor. “Okay, now it’s o— oh shi…”

Before Freedom can even get to a sitting position, Joseph is flying overhead with otherworldly speed. The Kowloon does a forward flip before landing a knee squarely on the Freedom’s head. Such an impact would normally destroy any material, including gundarium, and yet, as Joseph checks to see the results of the attack, the entire suit looks completely unscratched.

“Gotta love superior technology, eh?” is Mark’s simple reply, pulling out his beam rifle and shooting straight up. The shot grazes his target’s shoulder, causing the fighter inside to wince in pain. Still, Kowloon back flips before the next shot can hit him in the head, using machine cannons for cover fire. The small shells bounce off PS armor like rain on a car, as the Freedom regains its footing, now training the full extent of its arsenal on Kowloon. “Let’s see you dodge this.”

Joeseph’s eyes widen, and at the last moment, Kowloon drops flat on the ground, as the Freedom unloads its Balaena plasma beam canons. Even with the narrow avoidance, Joe still winces, as the armor on his back begins to liquefy, threatening to buckle his frame before the beam thankfully shuts off. Knowing he won’t be able to survive another blast, the Kowloon springs forward again, Joseph yelling a war cry as he begins a series of lightning fast combinations. Ten, twenty, no thirty or more blows land on the Freedom, and yet the other suit moves unflinching, with a very amused Mark inside. “Are you quite done yet?” he remarks, grin widening.

“Not quite,” Joseph retorts, before suddenly shifting. In a move of pure elegance, another beam cloth comes out of the Kowloon’s wrists, wrapping around the Freedom’s left arm, and twisting. For a moment nothing happens, and then there’s a groan, as the armor beneath the beam weapon begins to buckle from the strain. Kowloon twists again, and the arm comes flying off, creating an opening in the Phase Shift armor.

“Now’s my moment,” Joesph thinks, before beginning a whirlwind kick towards the gaping stump on Freedom’s side. Seeing his impenetrable defense fail, Mark’s eyes widen, and he lets loose his entire armory, despite the close range. At the same time, Kowloon’s foot tears through the Freedom’s shoulder armor, knocking off the head, just as the CIWS and Beam rifle blast Kowloon’s own off. Then there is silence, before both suits fall over.

“Draw?” Joseph asks, panting inside the now dark Trace system.

“Draw.” Mark agrees.

Outcome: Draw Freedom: 2 Day’s Damage Kowloon: 2 Day’s Damage

Deathscythe versus Epyon

Brandon Rice is doing loops.

The young pilot, on one of his first combat runs in an incredibly powerful prototype mobile suit, zooms through several infinity loops and lets out a loud yell of joy. It is the first time he has been allowed out into the open expanse of Luna’s plains without a trainer escort, and the first time he will be practicing with live ammunition. The Deathscythe twists into a power climb, engines ejecting bright blue fire behind it, and completes several loops again, one after the other. It suddenly comes to a halt and drops, thrusters igniting again as it levels off over the moon’s surface, throwing up dust and rocks. It finally bursts to a halt in front of its opponent, landing easily on the soft lunar ground.

“Hey, Rudy! You ready yet buddy?!” Brandon’s voice crackles over the comm system, light with enthusiasm and the boundless energy of youth. He is eager to commence testing of his new Gundam.

“It’s Rudo, punk.” Savren’s deeper voice responds, but there is no malice in it – only a restrained enthusiasm and a gentle amusement at Brandon’s joy. Rudo is no stranger to the cockpit, only to the Epyon – and each experience with a new suit is to be savored, like a night with a beautiful woman. His mind drifts back to that one night, months ago, when he danced with a goddess…and then snaps back to reality. “MISTER Rudo to you!” Brandon scoffs over the comm, and Savren smiles.

Though it is a smile which any observer would’ve missed. His regal face, normally topped by a shock of white hair and set with dark blue eyes, lies hidden away behind the hard geometry of the Epyon System’s helmet. Inside the helm all is dark, with only a few diagnostic screens scrolling through their rounds. They complete their tasks, showing all systems nominal, and Rudo grins again.

“You ready, Brandon?” At his opponent’s affirmative yell, Rudo reaches out and taps the button to activate his suit. “Epyon System…active. Let’s go.”

An eager expression splits Brandon’s face as he slams all throttle controls to full forward, both the eyes of the Deathscythe and its namesake beam scythe activating with a lightning flash of green, the latter blazing forth in immutable glory. Plumes of blue fire and gray dust erupt from behind the Gundam as it roars forward, weapon held low and buster shield raised, ready to attack. Inside the cockpit Brandon hits a button and hears the whirr of the ECM jammers activating. Hopefully it will be enough to confuse Rudo at least slightly, the pilot thinks, mentally shrugging.

Inside the red Gundam, Rudo is having a somewhat more difficult time. Sweat drips from his brow as information is fed directly into his brain from the Epyon’s sensors and cameras, an overpowering surge of data that wears away at the Knight’s sanity and control. The Deathscythe appears ahead, at full blaze, and in a millisecond multiple paths of attack are plotted out and fed into his skull. All end in victory for the Epyon and its pilot, and for the enemy…only death.

“He…isn’t the enemy.” Rudo slurs, attempting to fight as the Epyon System eliminates all his rationality, doubts, and fears. “He doesn’t…need to die.”

In response there were only the hard facts, countless bits of data that present only one conclusion – absolute victory. Nothing less.

As the Epyon ignites its own beam weapon, the massive sword spilling superheated plasma into the vacuum, the Deathscythe suddenly changes course with a burst of its thrusters. Brandon sweeps his suit up and around the other Gundam, counting on his ECM jammers to slow Rudo’s reaction time enough to get one good hit in. He lands hard in the dirt behind the Epyon, and raises his scythe as a victorious smile parts his lips.

Inside the red Gundam, only the Epyon System speaks. Beeps and whistles from the console echo around the cockpit, its pilot sitting in absolute stillness as his opponent closes in. Suddenly Rudo’s hands move like lightning.

Brandon gasps in surprise as the Epyon spins around, faster than he thought possible, and parries the scythe with a well-placed slash of its sword. Green afterimages from the swipe lingering in his eyes, Brandon slams the thruster controls down, rocketing away from the red suit and firing his buster shield as he does so. The blades spread out and lock as the shield spins like a drill, heading directly at the torso of the Epyon. The red suit barely moves until the last second, when it reacts faster than any human and bursts upward on a column of flame. It pulls a short U-turn, coming down at Brandon before the boy has time to react other than turning the Deathscythe to meet it. Even his fledgling Newtype senses are no match for the Epyon’s sheer speed.

The two Imperial Gundams meet in a splash of green inferno, Brandon blocking the downward-moving slash with the outer edge of his scythe’s blade. It takes all of his suit’s strength to prevent the Epyon from overpowering him, and sweat pours down his face as he strains at the controls. Even the Deathscythe’s legs strain against the firm surface of the moon, bearing the brunt of the power leveled against it.

Inside the cockpit of the red Gundam, Rudo sits again in utter stillness, his hands resting on the controls as the struggle continues outside. The white helm hides his calm face, belying the struggle within for control of his actions. “The enemy…a threat to my goddess…victory at all costs.” Rudo begins to lose grip on his own sanity, and a vision appears through the darkness to his dilated eyes – a golden woman descending from the heavens, lit by the sun itself and so beautiful she brings tears by simply existing.

“My lady…” the Knight whispers in ecstasy. His hands slip down the controls, and outside the Epyon the heat rod exits its housing with a whisper, glowing a bright red.

Brandon receives only a split-second warning, a bolt of lightning flashing past his eyes screaming the message of DANGER. It is enough to force him to disengage from the lock, throwing his suit backwards desperately as he avoids the cockpit-piercing strike of the heat rod. However it is not enough to avoid the rod’s reaction, as it wraps around the Deathscythe’s leg and burns through partially before turning off and locking the suit fast. The Epyon jerks slightly as the other Gundam’s engines strain against its hold, then steadies as it ignites its own reverse thrusters and digs into the soft lunar surface.

Brandon’s last desolate attempt to defend himself is thwarted as the beam sword knocks the scythe away easily, the lit weapon spinning off and landing in a puff of dust. It burns uselessly nearly a football field away, and despite its owner’s desperate stares does nothing. Quaking with fear, Brandon turns back to his captor.

“R-r…Rudo?” He questions, his young voice breaking. The green eyes of the Epyon stare back mercilessly.

“You are a threat to my goddess.” Rudo intones over the comm, emotionlessly. Brandon reaches out with his fledgling powers, attempting to find the man inside the machine…to no avail. Rudo’s mind has become a cold, hard stream of ones and zeroes, impenetrable to human senses. He draws the massive beam sword back.

“Rudo…” Brandon whispers, eyes tearing up as what he thought was a training duel goes horribly wrong. “Rudo…”

The beam sword plunges forward, regardless of Brandon’s pleas, and shatters the outer armor of the Deathscythe. Though captured and helpless, the dark Gundam is anything but weak, and even this powerful weapon takes several seconds to burn through.

It is in these final moments of Brandon’s life that sanity returns to his opponent.

“What…what am I…Jessica…” Rudo whispers in the dark, before passing out from the strain. The eyes on the Epyon, staring so intently into Brandon’s own, flicker and go dark, the glowing beam sword no longer straining against the thin armor of his cockpit.

Several seconds pass in complete silence, as the young pilot of the Deathscythe attempts to come to terms with this near death experience. He sniffs, wipes his eyes, and opens up a comm connection with Von.

Today is not his day to die.

Outcome: Rudo Savren wins, Brandon Rice loses Epyon: 1 Day’s Damage Deathscythe: 3 Day’s Damage

Wing versus Psyco versus 05th Gundam

Luna – Earth’s only satellite, she was once known to the majority of the human race, through various monikers in different languages, as ‘the’ moon. Now, with humanity spread across the solar system, living on a handful of different planets, more distinction of course must be made. Well beyond the edges of the great city of Von, three metal leviathans stand on the surface where, at one time, a single step could be both small itself, and yet still a giant leap.

“Yikes, that thing is large.” Michael Sylverwind nervously fingers the clasp on his shoulder holster, momentarily wondering if it wouldn’t be easier to simply have it out with the Psyco Gundam’s pilot mano-a-mano instead. A relaxed laugh comes across the comm in response.

“Come on, Quicksylver, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. You know that.” If anything, this is in effect a friendly verbal slap on the back. Too busy at the moment to worry about his opponents, Will Barton runs through his pre-fight checklist methodically. ‘Wild’ Will makes sure that his Wing Gundam’s beam sabers are loose in their housings. They are. Good.

In the Psyco, Clay Za Verne scoffs to himself. “Peons…” His massive suit dwarfs the two that stand opposite to it. Just like I dwarf them all. In his Psyco’s cockpit, there is a sizable mirror, set up so that he can be quite sure that his appearance is perfect at all times. Just, he thinks, as it should be. Running a well-manicured hand through his long blonde locks – at least a significant portion of the reason his call signal is ‘Bishounen’ – he smiles at his reflection. He is so caught up in himself, he barely manages to notice that the other two pilots are ready. He does seem to sense their readiness, though, and drags himself away from… himself.

“Everybody ready?” Will’s voice penetrates Clay’s haze completely, reverberating throughout the Psyco’s cockpit. One hand flicks up a comm switch. “Of course. You’re free to begin at any time.” Over in the Fifth, Michael isn’t quite as sure as the other two, but refuses to let any of his trepidation show through. “Come on, Michael. You’re a Sylverwind! Act like it!” he said to himself. “I have a full board lit.”

In response, the Wing leaps forward at the Psyco, immediately going for its beam sabers. Unsurprised by the tactic, Za Verne transitions quickly into mobile fortress mode, the mammoth Psyco Gundam’s frame shifting inward on itself until it resembled an extremely squat, fat plane. ‘The Bishounen’ uses the Minovsky craft system to generate lift, rising off from the ground and going airborne. Moving slightly up and away from the onrushing suit, the Psyco lays down blast after blast from the beam guns in its chest and head.

In the Fifth, Michael couldn’t be more pleased with the beginning of the battle. Instead of getting himself into trouble by rushing in to join the other two pilots, the youngest of the three chooses to take advantage of his position as ‘the third wheel.’ He takes careful aim and sends several shots flying in the general direction of the other two suits, then jets at an oblique angle from the straight-line path the Wing is attempting to take towards the Psyco. “As long as I can avoid getting in a full knock-down drag-out fight with either of them, I might be able to wear them down.”

The beam rifle shots streak towards the Wing – which has since returned the sabers to their housings during its attempts to dodge the Psyco’s fire while still approaching it – and one actually manages to strike it just below the knee, causing some joint damage. Will, believing it to have originated from the Psyco, lets loose a roar and switches into Bird mode. The sudden burst of speed takes Za Verne by moderate surprise, and enables the Wing to close to within striking distance. “Now THIS is more like it!” Will, living fully up to his nickname, draws his pair of beam sabers once more and attacks with a wild abandon, gleeful to at last get a chance to enter into a close-ranged fight. Za Verne, realizing the difficulties in attempting to defend his suit in G-Fortress mode, switches back to the mobile suit form.

Leveling the Psyco’s shield into a defensive stance, Clay extends his thoughts. Half are focused on attempting to read the movements of the Wing Gundam, while the other half control the five fingers of his suit’s right hand, as he attempts to get a clean shot in at the Wing. As Will moves to and fro, looking for an opening, he notices an opportunity as another series of beam rifle attacks come streaking in from the side. Za Verne, reacting by instinct, turns his shield to meet them, blocking the bunch. But the Wing uses the opportunity to get inside his defenses. A quick swipe of a beam saber seperates the Psyco from its left arm, almost up to the shoulder.

“Oh, no…” Za Verne’s eyes turn cold, even as the fingers of the Psyco’s left hand unleash a series of blasts into the unprotected flank of the much smaller Wing. Before he can finish the suit off, though, he is once more beset by an attack from the clever Fifth. This time choosing to focus on the Psyco, Michael opts for his gatling gun, as its projectiles won’t be slowed by the large suit’s anti-beam coating. Slug after slug is sent into the huge black suit’s back, rending large gouges and tearing away significant strips of armor. The impact throws Clay to the side, whereupon he bangs his head against one of his monitors. The Wing uses the opportunity to limp back away out of reach, its maneuverability almost totally shot.

The Fifth keeps up its barrage on the Psyco. “I’ll never get a cleaner series of shots than this. I haven’t seen this much of a target of opportunity since the beginning of basic training…”

Za Verne, meanwhile, is inspecting himself in the mirrior, almost totally ignoring the massive damage his suit is taking. “Oh, no no no…” Clay’s face… “My beautiful face!” … has been marred. A small cut over one eye trickles a slight bit of blood down along the cup of his eye socket, trailing down his cheek. “This won’t do. NOT AT ALL! No sir, not in the LEAST!” His voice had been perfectly calm, up until the last word, which instead is shrieked. The Psyco quickly turns, bringing its full arsenal to bear on the Fifth.

“Oh, son of a…” Even the proper Sylverwind family manners cannot override some human actions. In this case, terror floods Michael’s brain, as he feels as if he can hear echoes of an inhuman screech in the recesses of his mind. His fingers nearly slip from the controls, but in a valiant effort he wrenches himself back to the task at hand – namely, keeping himself alive. The entire arsenal of the Psyco is sheeting towards his mobile suit, in waves of deadly beam energy. Sending the Fifth into a rapid climb, ‘Quicksylver’ hopes to achieve some measure of safety. The tactic does not succeed.

Brilliant bolts of light stab outwards from all five of the ‘finger’ beam guns at once, three of them catching the Fifth on the side. Worst of all for Michael, one of the three manages to strike his left thruster, sending him into a tailspin. He corrects the problem in record time, but it is not soon enough. Another salvo slams into his suit, catching him, in effect, with a ‘full broadside.’ The bolts tear the Fifth apart, ripping sizable holes in its armor. The suit’s reactor can take no more, and safties cut it out before it can go critical and detonate.

Michael sighs, unhappily, as his suit falls back towards the lunar surface. “This is going to hurt.” He has no idea. Another series of shots from the Psyco again rip into the Fifth, smashing it apart even further. Knocked about the cockpit, Michael is slammed up against his seat hard enough to cause him to pass out. Will, concerned, tries to raise Clay over the local comm. “Bishounen. Bishounen, this is Wild. Damn it, Za Verne, come in!” There is no response, and it is clear that the Psyco is readying itself for one more attack – a series which, Will is quite certain, would end Michael’s life.

In the cockpit of the Psyco, Clay Za Verne has lost touch with reality. His anger so overpowers him, he does not even notice the blood that continues to fall from his forhead, staining his pristine uniform. Nor does he notice the tears of rage that sting his eyes – not that he would care, in any case. He slams his fist against the comm unit, screaming in madness. “Those who would dare mar perfection are worse than scum! I shall cleanse them!”

Will fumbles with the controls for the Wing. He prefers combat that is face-to-face, not attacks from a distance. After what seems like an eternity, despite only being several moments, he has managed to equip his suit with the Wing’s deadly buster rifle. Taking careful aim, he knows he must succeed in a single shot – Michael’s life, not to mention the life of Clay Za Verne to boot – could very well hang in the balance. Za Verne’s yell blasts over the comm, startling him, and forcing his hand. He depresses the trigger, sending a massive blaze of energy streaking over the lunar soil.

‘Wild’ Will Barton shoots perfectly. The beam knocks the Psyco out of comission in a single go, wreaking havoc up and down the entire suit. Though the anti-beam coating helps defend the suit to a degree, Michael’s earlier barrage had worn down a significant portion of it from the Psyco’s back. The blast forces the shutdown of all the Psyco’s vital systems, including its weaponry. Toppling forward, the behemoth lands very heavily – enough to send Clay tumbling about his cockpit, and causing him to black out as well. As he begins to slip under the blackness, he has a last thought. “The voices – they’re gone… This silence. It is… refreshing…”

Outcome: Will Barton wins, Clay Za Verne and Michael Sylverwind lose Wing Gundam: 2 day’s damage Psyco: 3 day’s damage Fifth Gundam: 3 day’s damage

Aquarius ambushes Testament

Much like the Bermuda Triangle of Earth yore, the asteroid belt is considered by many vessels and their crews to be cursed; a malevolent, ship-devouring force. Drifting rocks slam into each other, starting a chain reaction that could literally chew unwary travelers to pieces. What better place to hide, if one is looking to escape the stigma of being labeled a pirate? For members of Drake’s Legacy, the convenience is obvious.

Jack Verse grunts as his Testament mobile suit slams full force into an asteroid, monitors blinking from the collision. To say that the ambush had happened quickly would be an understatement. Hiding on the dark side of an asteroid, Aquarius had come from seemingly nowhere, striking out with its heat whips, before fleeing into a denser sections of the belt. Beeping and whistling insanely, Jack’s computer displays damage to the Testament Gundam’s head – though it actually lacks a cranium to report in regards to.

Sensors still active, Jack considers giving pursuit as the Aquarius flees, but decides that it’d only be pushing his luck after failure in original counter. An almost sarcastic thought passes through his mind as he and his mobile suit drift through the rocks. “Where is your honor among thieves now?” he miffs, recycling the battle in his mind.

* * *

Five Minutes Earlier…

Aquarius, with its two heat rods extended, charged forward, closing the gap between itself and Jack’s grayed, previously inactive mobile weapon, with stunning celerity.

Testament’s own thrusters flared into existence, rocketing upwards, barely avoiding catastrophe as a heat whip tore through the space it previously occupied. Jack’s Coordinator reflexes allowed his fingers to dance across controls in such a way that it was impossible to deny his genetically enhanced origins. “Activate Phase Shift,” he commanded himself, obliging the order simultaneously. Color almost magically leaked over Testament’s form, the Gundam ultimately turning a crimson red. Whipping out a pair of beam sabers, Jack watched as Aquarius flew into a patch of floating rocks, giving chase as quickly as the Testament could follow.

Within the aggressor unit, Said manipulated his controls almost frantically, to avoid all form of debris as he rocketed between asteroids. He could hear the shells of the Testament’s CIWS pinging his armor from time to time, but the Gundanium held up as he guided Aquarius into a rapid climb, simultaneously powering down his left rod. Wrapping a no-longer-heated whip around the corresponding hand, the blue Gundam just barely dodged a rock the size of a forty-story building, and continued its ascent.

Said watched his visual sensors and waited for the Testament to follow. Seeing his query step into position, Actev’s eyes lit up like a candelabra. “Gotcha!” After pulling a vertical, one hundred eighty degree turn, Said traced the path he had previously driven, charging his opponent for a second time. It worked like a charm.

“Quit running!” Jack was growing tired of cat and mouse. Testament rounded the massive rock Said had dodged seconds ago, only to see the Aquarius screaming back down, straight for him. Not even Coordinator skills were fast enough to avoid the oncoming mobile suit this time. Aquarius reamed Testament in the head, its punch amplified by the combined inertia of both mobile suits. Heat rod acted like brass knuckle of a sort, impacting beyond even the variable Phase Shift’s ability to resist damage. Testament’s head divorced its frame, snapping wires and metal like a human neck being pulled apart.

Not to say the tactic was without cost: Aquarius’ arm was compacted to half its length, ruining both it, and the whip. “Beautiful,” Said blinked his only good eye in surprise at the amount of damage his weapon had taken, ultimately deciding that he had done enough upon seeing Testament impact a nearby asteroid after it veered out of control. “Time to head back home and calculate the cost of gundanium…” he grumbled.

Outcome: Said Arctev wins, Jacke Verse loses Aquarius: 1 Day’s Damage Testament: 2 Day’s Damage

Epyon versus Regenerate

“HE’S TOO FAST!” Aexion Nsira, known as ‘Blitzer’ by her peers, screams as the two beam swords of the Regenerate Gundam sweep through empty vacuum once again, the demonic red suit simply not where it had been moments before. For the second time that battle, the Epyon manages to get into position behind the massive Regenerate and with a single stroke of its glowing green sword lops off a chuck of the torso. Aexion’s reactions weren’t the fastest, but her suit more than made up for this lack with its own incredible speed, dashing forward and spinning around.

The fight had not started on such uneven footing. Before it had begun, Rudo had been kind and polite, introducing himself and requesting a training duel. Little had she known when she had accepted how much the man would change once he entered the cockpit of that devil weapon. The ‘Red Fiend’ certainly lived up to his moniker. While their battle had begun like any normal duel, with each pilot inflicting moderate damage upon the other, half a minute later Rudo had stopped speaking altogether and attacked like a madman. It was all she could do to prevent strikes against her critical areas, but slowly and surely she was becoming quite exhausted. The Regenerate, though a tough suit, was also being worn down by the constant attacks.

With a yell, Aexion slings her impulse cannon from the Regenerate’s back and looses a massive blast at the Epyon, a shot that carries nearly enough power to disintegrate a colony – a shot that completely misses and dissipates before exiting the moon’s non-existent atmosphere, as the red suit spreads its wings and launches itself skyward.

Despite his opponent’s fear, Rudo has yet to lose all control in his red weapon. The EPYON system screams at him to attack while the white-haired knight holds his aggression in check, barely slowing down his actions enough for Aexion to be able to block them. His mind is strong, yet Rudo groans as visions of Jessica Soleil begin to flicker past his eyes.

“My…goddess…” he whispers, unaware or uncaring that the comm is still turned on.

“What?” Aexion asks, confusion evident in her light voice. “What did you say?”

“You are a threat to my Queen.” Savren intones, his voice colder than the dark surface of Pluto. The Epyon blasts forward, its thrusters spilling hot fire into the vacuum of space, beam sword ignited and held forward like a banner.

“I’m not-“ is all Aexion is able to say before the speedy red suit reaches the larger Regenerate, and despite the size difference hacks heavily into the center torso before the girl can react.

“He’s trying to kill me…”Aexion thinks, desperately, as she slices off one of the Epyon’s wings, unable to truly get in a good blow because of the other suit’s size and proximity. All the while, the warning alarms blare around her, admitting the obvious conclusion of cockpit breach and pilot death.

“NO!” Aexion screams, slamming her thrusters forward and then back in a crazy move. It is just enough to dislodge the Epyon, throwing the smaller mobile weapon several meters away. Before it can press the attack again, ‘Blitzer’ transforms the Regenerate into its sleek mobile armor mode and rockets away, taking advantage of her suit’s superior speed to lure the Epyon along.

Inside the white helmet, Rudo’s eyes narrow. Nothing hides behind them but data, and death. “None of my enemies will escape. All threats to the Goddess will perish.”

“If I can just get him to crash in one of the canyons…” she does not finish the thought. Checking her rear cameras to make sure Rudo is following – sure enough, a red mobile armor is now on her tail – Aexion adjusts her course, heading to one of the many massive rifts in the moon’s crust. Long ago, before even the Dark Century, these canyons were thought to be irrigation channels made by another intelligent race that lived on the moon. Now these cracks were going to be used for a much more deadly purpose.

The terrain below her zipping by in a flash too rapidly to focus on, Aexion finally makes it to the entrance of one of the rifts. The Regenerate roars over the edge, diving down and stabilizing as it takes the first curve. The Epyon follows close behind, and the terrifying race begins.

For minutes, both suits speed through hairpin turns and dodge boulder outcroppings, each narrowly avoiding death by mere centimeters. But as the race continues, Aexion begins to notice something: while she has to slow down incrementally at each turn, the Epyon continues through at full blast, matching each stunt perfectly. It’s almost as if it’s flying by computer, and not the fallible hands of a man…

Almost sobbing, Aexion rises on the flames of her roaring thrusters out of the canyon. “This was pointless,” she thought, “this racing from doom…” She may as well face her death with the courage of a Knight of Soliel. In mid-air the Regenerate Gundam suddenly transforms from ship-like mobile armor mode to spider-like attack mode, spinning around, hitting the lunar surface with a puff of dust, and lowering its impulse cannon straight at the incoming Epyon.

“FOR THE EMPIRE!” She yells, loosing one final blast from the magnificent guns. Epyon easily curves around it, closing in for the kill. Relentless. Terrifying. It slashes off the head of the Regenerate, and prepares for a last killing blow.

But before it can strike, Aexion screams one final plea across the open comm.

“GOD! LET ME LIVE!”

For a second, the Epyon hesitates, raised beam sword pausing. In his mind’s eye Rudo Savren sees two Queens – one urging him to defeat her enemies, to prevent her destruction, to save her life. She spurs him on to greater deeds, whispering promises of seductive rewards.

The other Queen simply stares at him with sad eyes, her countenance radiant but melancholy. She whispers only a single word as he raises his sword to strike her.

“Mercy.”

“NO!” Rudo screams, his voice ripping from his throat as the Epyon shudders in response. He tears the white, angular helm from his head and throws it to the cockpit floor as the Epyon shuts off and slams to the moon’s surface. Breathing heavily, he stares at the headpiece in disbelief of that one moment of pure, crystalline clarity.

Outcome: Rudo Savren wins, Aexion Nsira loses Epyon: 2 Day’s Damage Regenerate: 3 Day’s Damage

Shining versus Gottraltan

“So, here we are.”

Raidon Shiranui announces, his Shining Gundam standing in a ready position atop one of the hills near Cagali, a rolling landscape of grassy knolls surrounding him. Mars was beautiful this time of year.

“Yes. Have you thought more on what we discussed beneath the sea?”

William Ackerman and his Gottraltan stand on the crest of another hill, facing the Shining full-on. The bright red suit is fully powered-up, waiting only for a signal to start the battle.

“Of course. Gundam fighters need to hone their minds as well.” Raidon replies, the Shining crouching with its hands held high, mimicking the movements of its pilot. “In order to shield our flame of civilization from the winds of war, a few of us must act as a protective hand for the rest. This is what you said, is it not?” As he finishes speaking, the Shining leaps into action, flying toward the opponent.

“You have it, Raidon.” Willaim launches his own suit into the air, meeting the Shining halfway between the hilltops. Both suits draw their beam weapons, swords for the Shining and tonfas for the Gottraltan, and meet in a clash of light and plasma that crackles across the noon sky. “We shouldn’t be selfish and desire to live our own lives when we have the capability to defend the weak.”

“I can agree with you there. Those who can fight should, if that is the course we choose.” Raidon speaks calmly even as their weapons throw sparks all around. He strikes with his beam swords again and again, even as they clash harmlessly against the forearm tonfas of his opponent. “However, we in Orb like to think of ourselves as superior to those other, lesser governments. How can we justify our way of life if we sink to their level? There are sacrifices to be made here, clearly, that are far more complex than the simple life and death of a few human beings.”

The Gottraltan shoves the faster Shining away, then flips and falls to the ground. The Shining follows, but as it prepares to attack from above the beam blade on the Gottraltan’s head activates and swipes at it. One of the Gundam’s beam swords is caught and torn in two.

“We’re only human, Raidon, like you just said. We can’t hope to comprehend such things, even as enlightened as we claim to be. When it comes down to survival you can only defend yourself and hope for the best.” William presses the attack with these words, slashing his tonfas in quick succession at the Gundam fighter, forcing it to retreat and defend itself with only one sword left. After enduring a few slashes, Raidon drops to the ground and kicks out at the Gottraltan’s feet, forcing it to boost into the air and land a few meters away. Standing, the Shining drops its sword and crouches into a martial arts-style ready position, hands held at an angle in front. “So what you want us to do is simply give it our all and be content with what we can accomplish? I can see the appeal in an attitude such as that.” Raidon attacks furiously, showing his true spirit as a Gundam fighter now, punching and kicking at the red suit and skillfully blocking all tonfa strikes with a flip of his palms. At this close range the mobile trace system confers upon the pilot a huge advantage.

Gottraltan is now the one driven back, unable to defend against the flurry as large dents begin to appear it its armor. One of the tonfas is actually crushed by a strike, the beam emitter shutting off due to damage. William tries his best, but it is obvious he is outmatched by the power of the Shining in close combat. He slashes at the Gundam’s head, but misses woefully.

It is the opening Raidon was looking for. With his right leg he sweeps the feet of the Gottraltan right out from under it, and strikes with a decisive uppercut when it falls, sending it flying into the air. The Shining leaps right up after it, fist drawn back.

As both suits reach the apex of their leap, the Shining slams its fist into the cameras of the Gottraltan, shattering them as glass and metal fly in all directions. They drop to the ground, the red suit sparking and the Shining appearing to breathe heavily – in reality it’s only still following the actions of its pilot, who is indeed fatigued.

“You make a good point.” Raidon gasps, trying to catch his breath.

“Thanks. I think together, we’ll easily be able to keep Orb’s flame alight.” The cockpit door on the Gottraltan opens with a hiss, and William steps out into the noon sun. He waves up at the Shining.

”I hope you’re right.” Raidon replies, picking up Will before turning and boosting into the air, headed back to base.

Outcome: Raidon Shiranui wins, William Ackerman loses Shining: 2 Day’s Damage Gottraltan: 2 Day’s Damage

X versus Wing

“Maybe one of these days I'll do some training duels myself, to keep my actual combat knowledge in my head. So I won't be caught off guard in case I have to fight, instead of be a tool for mass destruction.” Shoji Takemizu thinks back to his words from barely a day ago, thinking about how quickly they had come to fruition. In the Gundam X, the ‘Nosferatu’ goes through several final checks. Running his tongue slowly over his lips in an unconscious reaction to the upcoming battle, Shoji has to force himself to calm down. “This is a friend, a good pilot of the Lunar Empire, with whom I fight today. The spilling of blood must wait for a later time.”

In his Wing Gundam, ‘Wild’ Will Barton sits in the cockpit, his eyes closed. In his mind, scenes from his previous battle play out – the near-destruction of the Fifth, in particular. Will had heard stories about this ‘Nosferatu’ character, and met the man once or twice. Though he appeared mostly normal, considering some of the tales, Will wants to take no chances whatsoever. “And after that visit to Crazytown, population: Clay, I think a little bit of paranoia might be a healthy thing.”

Shoji messages Will, having completed his preparations. “Time to start?” In response, the other Knight ignites his engines, kicking up lunar dust – but Wing does not go very far. It stops a few meters in the air, mostly just hovering.

Shoji, guessing that this is the ‘Wild’ way of initiating battle, chooses to strike first. X’s chest vulcans open fire, small projectiles striking at its opponent. Reflexively, Will pulls up his shield, but only for a moment. The weapons are barely powerful enough to make a dent in his strong Gundanium armor. Then again, their purpose is hardly to damage his mobile weapon.

Streaking across Will’s field of view is the X, which slides around to his right side – the less-protected one. X’s buster beam rifle spits out several bursts, and each is decidedly more lethal than the vulcan cannons. Wing attempts to spin to avoid most of the shots, and take the remainder on its shield, but one slips inside Will’s defensive maneuver and slams into his suit’s left flank. The impact knocks his Gundam backwards, nearly sending it sprawling to the Lunar surface. Will swears to himself, and taps the thrusters lightly to right his position.

Sensing an opening, Shoji pounces. Igniting his own verniers, he dashes forward, and the X draws its beam sword as it goes. Will barely has time to grasp a blade himself, bringing it out and birthing it in one hurried motion. As it comes to life, he swings it across his body, catching the oncoming attack well in front of him. X’s momentum, however, pushes the two suits backwards, and the Wing is nearly thrown to the ground once more. This time, however, Will uses the momentum of the attack to his advantage. The highly-maneuverable Wing shifts slightly to the side, taking it out of the path of Shoji’s next attack.

With X now the off-balance suit, Will presses his advantage. Moving forward, he strikes downwards, trying to bisect his opponent. Shoji finds himself on his heels for the first time in the fight, backing off slightly as he blocks high. Sliding the Wing’s feet slightly apart, Will next slashes horizontally, rewarded for his tenacity with a hit. Gundam X tries to duck out of the path of the attack, but Shoji is not quite quick enough. Embedding itself in a targeted right shoulder, the beam saber cuts deeply, nearly entering the suit’s torso. In a move born of desperation, Shoji swings his sword’s hilt at the Wing’s shield. Though he does almost no damage, the attack does push the two suits slightly apart, saving X from crippling body damage.

Breathing heavily, ‘Nosferatu’ grits his teeth. Unused to this sort of drag-out fight, he looks for any sort of opportunity. ‘Wild’ Will, however, revels in battles fought at close range, and once more moves to attack. A series of slashes, alternating up and down, keeps Shoji on the defensive. Part of the way through the assault, Will swings low, then feints high. Caught up in his opponent’s pattern, Takemetsu is caught off guard and once more the X is victimized. A second straight low blow removes a massive section of its left leg, and the suit stumbles back. Taking to the air, Shoji knows he is in trouble – the Wing has a significant advantage in aerial battles.

Will takes a moment to bring out a second beam saber from its housing, and sets himself in a cross-guard pattern. “I can end this right now.”

He blasts off the ground, straight for the retreating X. Shoji once more must defend his suit from a myriad of attacks, and his capabilities are severely compromised thanks to his suit’s damage. Barton moves back into another attack pattern, using his sabers in a whirling series of diagonal slashes. This time, though, Shoji is not fooled. “Wait for it… Wait for it… There.”

Sensing a slight difference in his opponent’s attack, Shoji is this time ready for the feint, and blocks the subsequent attack – a horizontal swipe with both blades at the same time – straight down the center of his suit. The large beam sword and the two smaller beam sabers clash, momentarily locking the suits together again. Then the Wing shifts. Forgotten from the beginning moments of the battle, the damage to the Wing’s right flank causes the suit’s right side to slide downward a small amount. It creates some separation between the two blades, though, and the contact is broken as both mobile weapons scream past each other. The Wing goes flying forward higher into the air for a few moments, while X is sent tumbling downward. Both pilots, however, are discombobulated and take a moment to recalibrate themselves.

When Will re-acquires his target, he notices the X has deployed its massive satellite cannon. “Oh, shi…” Hurridly he discards both sabers, scrambling for his buster rifle in a manner reminiscent of his last battle. Just as the powerful energy from the nearby satellite facility reaches the X, the Wing grabs its buster rifle off its shield and takes aim. As the brilliant white light emerges from the tip of the sat cannon, the buster rifle belches flame, and a huge burst of its own flashes forth. The two meet near to the X, and for a moment, it appears as though the Wing may win the day.

The more powerful blast from the satellite cannon, though, engulfs the buster shot, streaking forward and engulfing the entire lower body of the Gundam. When the light clears, the upper half of Wing falls, totally out of commision. In its cockpit, Will slams his hand against the console, angrily.

Shoji, meanwhile, has just noticed the odd yet familiar taste of copper within his mouth. During the battle, he had bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood. “My own blood…” he says with a mixture of disgust and interest. “Hmm… No, not nearly as delicious. Not at all.”

Outcome: Shoji Takemizu wins, Will Barton loses X: 2 Day’s damage Wing: 3 Day’s damage

Re-GZ versus GM Sniper

“Damn!” Beck squints at his sensors, hoping for some trace of the modified GM Ground Type. His Re-GZ runs through a forest at full speed, its wake a mess of broken branches and snapped trees, evident by the green, stained streaks all across the mobile suit’s blue and white paint scheme. Only ten minutes into the duel, and Beck knows it’s paramount that he finds the GM Sniper, and closes the distance between them. Squinting again, this time at the controls, Beck ducks his mobile weapon down a few feet, trying to reduce its profile.

Less than a mile away, in a hillside cave, Rupert has already begun slowing his breathing, clearing his mind of outside distractions. His focus is entirely on the Re-GZ running blindly through the forest. There exists no sniper rifle; no GM; his own sense of self melts away to only the smallest trickle of conscious thought. “I am hunter.”

The cockpit is open, Rupert feeling the wind and subconsciously altering his aim to compensate. He had started the match out with a stroke of luck, having found a generator substation conveniently located in the middle of nowhere. It had taken him only five minutes to hook his energy-whore of a rifle to the power grid, giving him nearly unlimited charge at the cost of any significant ability to move.

“Come on you bastard, give me the money shot.” Not even registering the thought, Rupert praises the Re-GZ’s pilot for being smart enough to duck – yet for one who eats, drinks, and sleeps sniping dogma, well, this is but a mild setback. Scanning the horizon, Rupert discovers his shot: a small gap in between two massive trees, directly in the path of the Re-GZ. Carefully, he adjusts his aim and gives a wolf’s smile, then steadies his finger over the trigger, breathing reduced to a whisper.

Beck peers into his surroundings with the ferocity of a hawk, looking for anything that might give away Rupert’s location. The truth is that he’s looked over the sniper multiple times; the underbrush around the cave has prevented detection. Outside battle, many people dismiss Beck offhand for his odd garb, but the pilot is uncannily wary, and it’s this alertness that saves him as he notices the glint of energy tearing towards him from the corner of his eye.

Re-GZ’s frontal maneuvering thrusters ignite, throwing the mobile suit backwards, the beam of energy slicing through its left arm, missing chest by only two centimeters. Despite the lack of a direct hit, the shot’s power is evident, as it’s managed to leave a melted furrow across the span of Beck’s frame.

“I see what you did there!” With a grin, Beck rockets towards the cave, having an almost exact idea where the GM Sniper is concealing itself. “I see what you did there and I’m coming for ya!”

Though miffed by his near miss, Rupert’s focus doesn’t break as he trains his rifle on the refined Gundam Zeta as it zig-zags through the trees towards his cave. The weapon takes several seconds to charge for another round, GM Sniper having to rapidly re-align its aim to compensate for the evasive movements.

“Gotcha!” Beck proclaims triumphantly into his COMM.

Nonplussed, Rupert continues correcting his targeting solution, simply replying, “Oh really?” before pulling the trigger for a second time. The beam punches through two trees, causing them to erupt like an organic funeral pyre. Beck is ready, though, and pulls the Re-GZ into a heavy climb. Even though his vision is partially eclipsed by dancing black specks, the maneuver allows Re-GZ to jump the attack by several meters, the beam itself ultimately traveling through the forest well beyond the line of sight. In one slick move, two beam sabers fall into Re-GZ’s grasp, and Beck dives in a rapid counterattack.

With an audible grunt, Rupert closes the cockpit while rolling GM Sniper to the side just in time to avoid being impaled. It’s obvious that in close range, Beck’s mobile suit is vastly superior, but Rupert doesn’t let that deter him. The massive Gm stands, retaliating with the butt of its continually charging rifle. The bludgeon smashes directly into the previously damaged arm, snapping it off and sending e-GZ tumbling into the side of the cave.

“Looks like I win,” Rupert congratulates himself, leveling the massive beam rifle towards his opponent, not even needing to aim at such close range. But Beck had one more trump card in his arsenal – he hurls the beam saber past the GM. “You missed,” Rupert mocks, pulling the trigger only to hear the hissing sigh of a gun without energy. “No, I don’t believe it!” It dawns, that the beam saber wasn’t meant for him, but the thick cable now laying in two pieces behind him.

“Habeeb it,” Beck pushes the advantage while he has it, grabbing a saber from the severed arm on the ground and cutting upwards in one fluid motion. Both of the GM’s arms fall off, Re-GZ then thrusting its red blade into the suit’s neck, pinning the mass-production foe into the cave wall.

Pinned to the cave wall like a bug on display, Rupert powers down the GM Sniper, signaling an end to the duel.

Outcome: Re-GZ wins, GM Sniper loses Re-GZ: 2 Day’s Damage GM Sniper: 2 Day’s Damage

Nu versus Freedom

It is the year 115 of the After Era. More than two decades have passed since Earth began moving its refugee populations into gigantic jovian space colonies. A new home for mankind, where people are born and raised. And die. 180 months ago, the cluster of humanity furthest from the Earth-that-was, a city called Vitz, proclaimed itself the Galilean Confederation and launched a campaign of unification to merge Crossbone, Zeon and Earth Federation. Initial efforts lasted five years before the last ‘true’ democracy became satisfied, until hearing rumors of the inner systems. Of organizations who culled for obedience. People were horrified by the indescribable atrocities that had been committed in the name of independence. It drove the people to action, training their children to be the greatest fliers that history has ever seen. Fifteen years had passed since the quest began. They were at a stalemate.

This is the story of two such pilots.

* * *

12 hours ago…

“I am about to tell you a story, and when I’m done you will be the wiser. This is not a story of love, nor is it one of redemption. This, my friend is a story of blood, and sweat and tears. And in this story you will be a hero, and a martyr, and a monster. In this story, you will kill, and eventually be killed. In this story you will paint a bloody masterpiece, a bloody, bloody masterpiece, and I will laugh. And when this tale is done, you will truly know the difference between the flock from the wolf pack. And when you die, I’ll be there to pat you on the back, and take your place.”

Mark Carter woke up with a start. It was only 0500 and yet he felt as if he had been sleeping for an eternity already. For a moment, he wondered where he was, before memory slowly slipped back to him. He was on Jupiter, and the man in his head was just his imagination. There was no one there to take his place, and he would be fine. “I will be fine.” It was his mantra, and sometimes, it worked a hell of a lot better than the pills they seemed to like giving the pilots.

Getting up and walking to the wash basin by his bed, Mark splashed his face a few times, trying to get his senses together. Going back to sleep was ultimately pointless, for he had first shift in less than two hours. Anyway, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to anyway. The thing… the man. Well, he seemed a lot realer when Mark slept.

“And when you die, I’ll be there to pat you on the back, and take your place.”

* * *

8 hours ago…

“N’w I lay’me d’wn t’sleep, I pray t’lord m’soul t’keep. If I should die before m’wake. I pray the Lord m’soul t’take. Amen.”

The ‘church’ really wasn’t such at all, nor even a chapel really. Most stations on Jupiter lacked proper facilities, so the soldiers had to make due with what they had. The civilians? Those who had been put on these installations had even less. Perhaps that’s why Kiley felt the need to bring God to them. For some it had been years since they could get a proper sermon, and when she wasn’t on duty, Kiley Alexander was around doing just that. Today it was a flock of school girls, with their mothers not too far behind. Some of them wore smiles, while others stared up in amazement. It wasn’t often a pilot would spend time with them, and for one so young, perhaps that was greater than God in the first place.

“Now remember t’say yer prayers, n’listen t’whateva’ yer mommies say. Now run along y’crazy girls.”

It was the youngest who spoke up first, not more than a moment after Kiley turned. “You’re so cool Ms. Alexander! I want to be just like you!”

Kiley froze, turning around slowly, before regarding the kid with a look. “Keep t’yer prayers n’maybe t’world will no need that, lass. You dun need’ta be what I’am.”

“But you’re an uber cool pilot!”

“Nay. I am absolution. Now get, b’fore supper cools.”

* * *

4 hours ago…

Sometimes Mark wondered why they had to make the walkway to the hangar mirrored. Honestly, what would cause the narcissistic need to view oneself for an entire three hundred meter length? The fact that you needed to see yourself before you died? Or maybe there were hidden cameras behind the panels, making sure no pilots were carrying illegal contraband into their mobile suits. Honestly, the latter notion wouldn’t surprise Mark in the least. After all, these days, and this close to the asteroid belt, who knew what crazy pirate would try to pretend to be one of GC’s finest just to steal a suit.

Really, he wouldn’t have minded so much, except the man who looked back on the other side wasn’t him. Still, at least it was the goofy one this time.

* * *

15 minutes ago…

“Fook off b’fore I put me foot where t’take five surgeons n’some jaws o’life to get it out.”

Sometimes Kiley wondered why mechanics couldn’t be much like children. They were men and women hardened by the loss of Earth, and many had lost their faith. They were swayed little by her sermons, and impressed even less. No, they listened to a different language, which luckily, Kiley also spoke.

“Did I tell ye y’could touch that?!” The boot Alexander delivered to the unfortunate technician was loud enough to be heard in the mess hall, and twice as painful. But really, it was common place by now. Everybody knew the rules: No one was supposed to come near the Nu Gundam when it was this close to battle time. Sure, this was only a training duel, but the look in Kiley’s eyes spoke volumes about her thoughts on the matter.

No. Something felt… off about this battle.

“Get wit’ ye! I got some prayin’ t’do.”

* * *

Now…

The airspace is clear, as are any obstacles that might prove harmful in the following duel, and yet, the Jovian setting feels crowded. It only takes a glimpse to figure out why. Oh, the Freedom and Nu Gundams are of mere ‘average’ size for this day and age, yet each holds a magnificence to them, as if they, and they alone are the pinnacle of everything ever created. There is a majesty there; two Kings set on an alabaster platform awaiting a destiny that only they can fulfill. Inside, a man and a woman prepare, each going through systems checks the same way they have done seemingly a million times before, and each with their minds on their own problems. As the relay station broadcasts the minute alert before the battle, Kiley pops up on Mark’s video system.

“Ready lad?” She asks, doing her best to look cheerful. Sometimes it was hard.

“Yeah. Good luck,” Mark replies, flashing the friendliest grin he can muster, before flipping up his screen. Behind the panel, the reflection waits for him, and this one isn’t the goofy one.

“It just takes one button press. They would rule it an accident, and you would never be blamed. You want it.”

Mark ignores the voice, instead chanting softly: “I will be fine.” Gripping on the controls enough to whiten his knuckles, he lets out one final breath as the count down reaches its climax.

3…2…1…

He is a Coordinator, and she a Newtype. The span of one to zero feels like an eternity, and when the clock hits -0:00:00.01, both suits are blasting forward, trying to gain the immediate advantage. The Nu pulls out and fires a bazooka round immediately, Kiley knowing she has but one shot to use ballistic weaponry before it’ll be rendered useless. Unfortunately, her opponent is a second faster, and the munition explodes harmlessly on the surface of the Freedom’s Phase System. Swearing, Kiley drops the bazooka and draws her beam rifle, letting off two shots, as she develops a strategy.

It is the Freedom that scores the first hit, as Mark gracefully dodges his opponent’s beam fire and returns it with a few shots from his Lupus rifle. The super fast beams scratch the shoulder armor of the Nu but accomplish little else, as the suit strafes right. Mark’s second volley is even less successful; several fin funnels merge, creating an energy shield to deflect the blast.

“Damn, that thing’s almost as useful as…” Mark is about to say ‘PS Armor’, but he hears himself murmur, “…Ki shield,” instead. Strange, but he has no time to concentrate, for Nu is hardly idle, reforming the funnels for a six pronged attack. A normal fighter would be hard pressed to dodge the speed and accuracy of such attacks, yet Mark seems to anticipate the trajectory of each remote weapon, dodging just out of the way of each a half nanosecond before impact

Across the battlefield, Kiley grunts, mind totally one with her funnels, yet still frustrated at all the misses. “Keep still, will ye?”

“Nah, I rather like staying in one piece,” Mark replies with a grin, spiraling away from another three blasts, lifting the Freedom’s arms and returning fire in rapid fashion. As expected, three of the funnels cease their attack to defend again, but this time Mark is ready for them. The Freedom suddenly makes a drastic turn, and fires outward, aiming straight for one of the funnels instead of the Nu itself. Kiley’s eyes widen marginally as she feels a piece of herself go up in flames, before narrowing them again at the enemy suit.

“Crafty little devil…” But she’s smiling, even as she lifts up her shield, firing a massive beam shot at Freedom.

So focused on taking out the funnel, Mark barely registers the wave of energy until a second too late. He rolls to the right, but the particles clip the Freedom below the left knee, destroying half the foot armor, and melting a good deal of the shin. Growling, in anger, Mark feels something inside of him grow, but he holds it back. “I will be fine…” The Freedom lets loose a few volleys from its CIWS, and blasts over the head of Nu before it can let loose with another shield-cannon blast. The maneuver gives Mark and open shot at the Nu’s back, yet somehow, three funnels come from nowhere, blocking without Kiley ever having to turn around. “How does she do it?” Mark mutters. It seems like this suit is more than just a simple opponent. With a sigh, he activates HiMAT, ignoring two distinct voices laughing in glee.

Kiley, unaware of it all, returns to the offensive. The Nu lurches and turns suddenly, firing off all four missiles, only to shoot them out of the sky herself. The resulting blast causes debris and smoke to fill the entire area, and when it clears, three Nu Gundams are visible. “Let’m see out o’ tis one,” Kiley murmurs to herself, confident in her ploy. What she can never know was the sheer destructive might of Freedom before seeing it first hand.

Inside the other cockpit, Mark doesn’t try to distinguish which Nu is the real one, instead pressing a series of button. Suddenly, dozen of little targeters appear on his HUD. Outside, the wings on Freedom unfold, and the frightening Baleena Plasma cannons come into view, followed shortly by the Xiphias rail guns. There is a moment’s pause… and then all hell breaks loose.

For a moment, Kiley’s monitors go pitch white, and she barely manages to put up all five funnels to shield the massive firepower. When her screen clears, nothing remains of the dummies, nor of the platform they had started on a few moments before. Kiley feels a moment’s pang, before realizing that the platform had been abandoned before the battle’s start. “But what power,” Kiley whispers, making the sign of the cross without realizing it. To make matters worse, it seems as if the Freedom is about to make a second shot.

Nu doesn’t allow it. Before Mark can press the trigger, the UC mobile suit is on him, mega beam saber ignited and swinging right for one of the plasma cannons. Without much time to react, the Freedom lifts its left arm, saving its precious weapon by losing an appendage. Still, it has its right hand, which soon ignites its own saber, parrying the next slash. Mark smiles though. She might have gotten too close for his canons, but he still knows he’s her superior in the saber game. “I got her now,” he murmurs, licking his lips.

It isn’t as easy as he assumes, however, for the Nu is much different from the training simulators from their student days. No, with the power of the Psychoframe, Kiley seems to anticipate the other man’s attacks before he himself knows he’s going to do it. It’s annoying, and positively infuriating. And Mark feels something growing again, but he tries to contain it, using a trick maneuver he has perfected in the sims. Fifty times out of fifty two it had worked perfectly, even against Newtypes, a sudden cross sweep which changes directions faster than anyone can respond. And yet, Kiley’s saber is just so, before she swipes back, scouring another burn mark on the Freedom. By now, it has more burns than shiny parts, while the Nu looks almost completely unscathed.

“Ready t’give in, boy?” Kiley calls out, half grin on her face, as the Psychoframe helps her feel where he is to move next. Her saber ducks down, and lazily loops off the Freedom’s right hand, as if Kiley could have done it at any time she had chosen. The Freedom still tries to dodge, yet without beam support, it soon loses its left leg, and a good chunk of one of the rail cannons. “J’st give in, an’ call it a day,” Kiley mutters, not really wanting to have to damage the other suit any more.

Mark feels his frustration growing experientially, along with something else. His genealogy moves at massive speeds, trying to figure out a scenario to get away, only to think of none. That only causes him to feel even angrier, and frustrated. And without knowing, he finally gives in. Unfortunately, it is to the Dark Side.

“Bitch.”

The voice is alien, both to Mark and Kiley’s ears. Without hesitation, the Freedom fires, causing a massive shockwave. Both suits receive scorch marks in equal proportions, and yet the self=inflicted damage does what Mark had originally wanted: it gives him space. As Kiley shakes off the cobwebs, her eyes widen as she realizes how far they have drifted apart. She immediately pounds her verniers to full power, trying her best to close the distance. But it’s to no avail. In fact, if not for the sudden revelation given to her by the Psychoframe, Kiley Alexander would have been vaporized by the next shot.

“What are y’tryin t’do? Kill me?!” Kiley shouts, only to get another blast as a reply. This time, she’s ready, as all five fin funnels remaining create a star pattern, barely managing to deflect the powerful lance. The next blast causes one to overload, and Kiley grunts, full concentration on defense from the onslaught. When another explodes, she finally fires her flare. “Fine fine, I give. Jus’ stop, son!”

There is still no reply, as another blast rips out, this one much more concentrated. The funnel shield holds, but barely, and Kiley feels her cockpit begin to quake from the pressure. Inside, Mark’s face twitches, and yet his expression is entirely unnatural to the muscles. There’s a sneer, and his eyes hold little caring, other than for the joy of death. He can hear the Irish woman on the communicator, indeed, he’s relishing her voice growing to panic. It just makes this part more fun.

“What r’ye doing?!” Kiley screams as she feels the pressure begin to build in her cockpit to critical levels. She knows the answer before the real Mark does. With the power of the Pyschoframe, she can feel the darkness emanating inside the other pilot’s mind. There is no regret in there, and she finds no reprieve.

“Sorry doll, but there seems to be a catastrophic failure in my safety protocols. Can’t seem to stop firing. I’ll be sure to say something nice during your eulogy.” Mark’s voice isn’t his own. It is darker, more sinister, and definitely unrelenting. And all too easily, his fingers slide to the power control, training every single gun to the enemy’s cockpit. Time seems to slow as the massively powerful cannons converge to a singular point, only hesitating a nanosecond. But in a nanosecond, everything changes.

“They would rule it an accident, and you would never be blamed. You want it.”

”NO! I don’t!”

And Mark fights against his dark side.

Nearby, Kiley’s extraordinarily boosted psychic prowess feels the hesitation, and she smiles. Perhaps she will die this day, before her destiny is fulfilled, but at least now, the moment will let her try. “I will never give up!” She screams, and the funnels seem to double in power. Triple. Quadruple or more, and yet the massive beams keep coming. With a roar, Kiley begins piloting forward, the Psychoframe converting her mental prowess into pure psychic energy. The waves ripple, and undulate, and Nu rides them, flying closer and closer to the enemy. As she approaches, she quivers, feeling the Nu’s Gundarium peeling from the sheer pressure put on it, and yet she continues. She refuses to die standing. It will be the noble charge, as her ancestor had done once upon a time. Though, she reflects, not nearly as noble of death.

Alas, the sheer power is too much for one yet unused to the Psychoframe, and before she can get within twenty meters, her Gundam is stripped bare, the last vestiges of psychic energy preventing her end. And even still, she knows that cannot last more than ten seconds. There is only one thing she can do. . . Closing her eyes, Kiley begins to pray. “Ye, as I walk through t’valley o’ the shado’ o’ death, I shalt fear no evil for you art wit’ m~”

“NO!”

A voice breaks through the prayer, and slowly Kiley opens one eye. The first thing she notices is that she isn’t dead, the second, is that all of her monitors are either cracked or broken completely. One flickers to life, and she sees her opponent Mark, nose and mouth draining blood.

”I WILL NOT LET YOU CONTROL ME,” he screams, before pounding on the controls. The Freedom’s eyes die, and body goes limp, before a tragedy can be made of this day. When he looks up, “he” is gone.

“I will be fine,” Mark reminds himself one more time before passing out.

* * *

15 minutes from now…

Kiley finds herself at the hangar, completely numb and yet jubilant. Somehow, the Lord had brought deliverance, and she can live another day. “T’bring your justice,” she murmurs. All around her, pilots and mechanics race, to see if she’s alright. At first she thinks them screaming with joy, until she notices the expression on their faces. Confused she removes her helmet, to hear them clearer.

“Alexander, damnit! Look at her hands!”

She does. Blood oozes steadily, leaving a trail on the floor behind her. But that isn’t the part she focuses on. No, for on each hand, right in the middle of the palm, she sees a perfect hole. And then Kiley Alexander, descendent of the Priest, passes out.

* * *

8 hours from now…

Dr. Pratcher watches as the nurses escort Mark Carter out of the infirmary with a clean bill of health, and some pills for headache. He waits several minutes before closing and locking the door, turning to the man standing next to him. “Sir, I believe you should see this.”

Pratcher turns out a brain monitoring device, and shows the man the read out.

“So? It’s normal brain function.”

“Just wait. Watch what happens during the end of the confrontation.”

The patterns spike, before changing completely, to a separate rhythm.

“You mean?”

“Yes. A completely different personality, one that seems unyielding and without mercy.”

“Intriguing. And useful. Very useful.”

Outcome: Nu wins, Freedom loses Nu: 4 Day’s Damage Freedom: 4 Day’s Damage

Akatsuki versus Blitz

Jack Davis gives a swift kick to the left handhold of his cockpit chair. “Damn thing – gotta make sure it stays on tight. This is really starting to piss me off…” Grumbling, he continues to tinker with the Blitz, having long completed his pre-fight checkup. The suit is ready for combat, and now all he needs is for his opponent to be finished. Flipping on his comm. channel once more, he sighs. “Look, Tom, are you ready to go yet? Because I really don’t feel like waiting around here all day, to be honest.”

In the Akatsuki, Thomas Gustav is indeed ready to go, after a thorough check – and re-check – of his vital systems. He doesn’t want anything serious to happen that might impair his ability to pilot. “Yeah, yeah, fine. I’m ready. Your move, Jack.” The two Galilean Confederation pilots have agreed to test their abilities against one another, and now are both prepared to begin the fight. True to his word, Thomas sits and waits, allowing the Blitz to initiate the combat.

“Heh. Mistake.” Immediately, Jack initializes the Blitz Gundam’s advanced cloaking technology. In mere moments, it fades from view as the Mirage Colloid particles take effect. Soon, Thomas can see nothing more than the backdrop of the Great Red Spot, broiling far below them in the atmosphere of Jupiter. He checks his sensors, but they too are useless. Slamming his fist against his control stick, he mouths a handful of words hardly acceptable in polite company. Engaging his suit’s DRAGOON offense/defense system immediately in response, he begins blanketing the area where he last saw the Blitz with beam fire, both from the DRAGOON mobile bits, and from his beam rifle.

“Hide and seek… I love this game.” Chuckling to himself in his Blitz, Jack maneuvers alongside the Akatsuki, attempting to get as close as possible without being detected in any way. Heading towards the left flank of the golden mobile suit, Jack looks for an opening of any kind. Because of the nature of the DRAGOON system, the mobile bits are a danger to his plan – if any one of them contacts his suit, it would immediately reveal his position to his opponent. Slowly, he watches the defensive bits whirl, waiting, trying to time his attack just right. There!

But he is just too slow. Trying to slam his suit forward to bring it within the defensive barrier, he mis-times his motion and barely clips the edge of one of the beam guns. He is fortunate that he does not contact it towards the barrel end of the weapon, as the gun immediately fires in response, Thomas reacting quickly to the strange contact. Instead, Jack slides back out of range, trying to re-think his strategy. He still has the advantage in that he is invisible to his opponent… But he is unsure if he will be able to take advantage of that fact with Thomas now fully aware of his plans.

And Thomas is indeed aware of the plan. The short contact, as brief as it was, registered in his senses like a flare of sunlight, and it is only through slight surprise that he does not manage to blanket that area with as much beam fire as he can muster. Whirling his defenses in around himself in a tighter ring, he concentrates for a moment, attempting to plan out a way to victory. “I can’t see him. He can’t hit me… Rather like a game of cat and mouse, I should think. Only in this case, the mouse has a bazooka, and the cat has a full set of armor.” Relaxing, he sits back in his seat, stretching out his senses. Though the suit may not be visible to the infrared or electromagnetic spectrums, there is another way in which he hopes to be able to identify the location of his assailant.

Breathing slowly, he closes his eyes. “Bit more to the left… Bit more… There!” Beam cannon fire blazes outwards, missing the Blitz by mere meters. Startled, Jack jerks his Gundam in an evasive pattern, randomizing his movements as best he can. Several more shots streak out, but are far less accurate. Jack manages to piece together the resulting puzzle in short fashion – “With random movements he couldn’t predict where I was… Crap, he can sense me out here.” Angry, he disengages the Mirage Colloid and engages the Blitz’s Phase Shift armor. “Okay, you want me, you got me. Let’s go, goldenrod. Sabers.”

Grinning, Thomas shakes his head. “Not going to rise to that, pal. You’ll have to do better.” He continues to sit behind his defensive systems, taking the occasional potshot as the Blitz tries to duck and dodge out of the way. He knows that in a battle of attrition, he holds a huge advantage over the less well-defended suit. And Jack, too, is aware of the fact. With a brief yell, he engages his beam saber and dashes forward towards the Akatsuki. Thomas sends the beam shield emitters in a whirling pattern of defense, attempting to prevent the Blitz from penetrating to within melee range while still taking shots at its unprotected back.

But here Jack Davis is at his best. Gritting his teeth, he stabs outwards in a perfectly-timed swipe, cutting through one emitter as it attempts to box him unavoidably within the path of a beam gun blast. Whirling counterclockwise, he swings out his left arm. The Trikeros shield spits out lancer darts, bisecting another shield emitter, and opening up a hole in the Akatsuki’s defenses. Unheeding of his own health, he dashes forwards, one more time attempting to break within the defenses of Thomas’s remote systems.

The action succeeds, but not without a price. As he narrowly slides in between two fast-approaching shield emitters, a beam cannon blast stabs through the left back of his suit, slamming him forward in his chair and once more loosening the troublesome handhold – not to mention causing significant damage to his structural systems. “Oh, that does it, Gustav!” Now within melee range, Jack goes to work, as the Akatsuki must draw its own dual-bladed beam saber. His attacks are brutally-efficient, and extremely powerful. Well-timed swipes never cause critical damage, but each blow strikes true, and slowly Thomas begins to realize it is now he who is losing the war of attrition.

Jack cannot resist engaging his comm. to taunt his opponent once more. “Come on, Darth, can’t you get me with that fancy saber of yours?” His snide tone cuts off abruptly, as the beam shield emitters manage to create a flat plane of plasma that cuts off his suit’s left leg. Gloating done, he goes back to work. A stab over his shoulder takes care of one of the emitters, and he spins quickly to finish the job before any of the remaining 4 can once more threaten his suit, as a sort of ‘remote’ melee weapon.

While Thomas concentrates within his cockpit, he has trouble keeping up with the technique displayed by Davis. An overhand blow turns out to be nothing more than a clever ruse stopped well short of a complete range of motion. And as Blitz once more spins counterclockwise, it cuts horizontally along the Akatsuki’s upper torso, narrowly missing the cockpit itself. Small explosions threaten to tear Thomas Gustav’s mobile weapon apart, and so he quickly turns off the reactor before anything can go critical and endanger his life, or Jack’s. The two call for tow-vehicles, and afterwards are left only with the silence of space, and their own thoughts.

Outcome: Jack Davis wins, Thomas Gustav loses Blitz: 2 Day’s damage Akatsuki: 3 Day’s damage