___________________________________________________________________________
Sazabi versus Griepe
By: Trent

Two dark mobile suits face each other between the concrete husks and shattered glass of a dead metropolis. Forgotten since its devastation during the Logos Wars, this city – once teeming with life – now plays hosts to only scavengers, ghosts, and two quiet foes. Both machines are miniscule compared to the mile-high skyscrapers standing to either side. Both are silent; both their pilots wait quietly, studying with preternatural sensations the enemy at hand.

Behind fogged goggles CT Weaver's eyes are unmoving. His vision is focused on one still image: a black and gray Sazabi, distinct from its environment only for six blue funnels on the backpack storage racks. Most eyes would stop there, but this man's drug-induced perception goes well-beyond the normal. Emanating around the head-mounted cockpit, he sees a calm chartreuse aura; its mass is still, save for the edges, which twinkle ever-so-slightly in anticipation.

Sitting within that usually-imperceptible halo, Wade Warren is for the very first time coming to communion with his psycoframe. Sight shrouded by fallen lids, he concentrates on a... "pressure"... resonating from the Griepe. During training, he felt many psycowave patterns from all sorts of individuals. Yet this is unique. As best he can put to words, it feels like the meniscus of a glass of water being slowly tipped back and forth.

Accepting this is as best he'll get a read on the unusual man whom he has challenged, Wade is the first to ask: "Shall we?"

"On your mark," CT grins. Griepe ignites the giant pike in its right hand, producing a yellow, V-shaped beam spear at the tips. Its pilot momentarily gets lost inside the new spectrum of light.

In turn, Sazabi ejects a beam saber from its wrist, catching the silver hilt and birthing a green blade. "Go," Wade starts.

Energy coalesces around Sazabi's waist. In an instant, the dark mecha's abdomen looses a chaotic mass of rainbow-colored mega particles three suits wide. Griepe's twin reflective shields fall over its form, catching the blast and dispersing its power harmlessly up into the sky. Though a little surprised, Weaver doesn't hesitate to jolt his powerful verniers into action and charge straight-on for Sazabi. Wade returns the gesture, and both men screech forward on powerful white contrails.

A flash of plasma illuminates the clashing warriors when their weapons meet. Sazabi is pushed back by the brute force of Griepe's charge, but Wade lands and kicks up off the ground to make a quick stab at the enemy's chest. The blow lands, merely chipping away at the formidable Gundanium alloy. Not expecting his saber to be quite so ineffective, he's caught off guard when Griepe twirls around and brings a horizontal slash against his own breast. Only psycoframe-bolstered reactions enable Sazabi to escape an early end.

CT marvels at the sudden verdant green aurora that flashes around Sazabi's cockpit. He follows up with two more lunging strikes, each one missing to either side as his foe's response time seems to have halved. Griepe takes a thruster-assisted hop backwards. "What is this...?" the effects of LSD on the pilot are just starting to become fully realized. Taking a second to look back and forth, he's surprised to see the city has now become active with life. Pedestrians crowd the sidewalks; angry motorists honk their horns at the two mobile suits; neon signs blot out any starlight filtering down from the night sky. Sazabi's power begins to calm, but his own mind is flaring at the imagery.

"Where did they come from?" Weaver murmurs over the COMM system.

"Excuse me?" Wade responds, but assumes the question is a distraction. Sazabi blasts upwards, climbing high enough to get a good lock on its target before loosing three small missiles from its shield.

To Weaver, it appeared the rocket thrust from the black mobile suit incinerated a score of innocent lives. Now seeing the missiles coursing down on his position, he knows there's no choice but to jump in the line of fire. Griepe ascends into the air, shields again forming a quick barrier that is soon shaken by a trio of successive, powerful explosions. It emerges from the smoke and flames without slowing down. Rather, it increases speed, the entire frame engulfed in a magnificent glow. The distance is covered in the blink of an eye. Even Wade cannot dodge Griepe's beam lancer as it arches upwards to remove his suit's left arm.

Griepe continues past Sazabi. By the time it turns around, the glow has strengthened. Weaver is being fed by the PX System. No longer are his illusions of a city; rather, he sees the Sazabi as some sort of menacing god figure. His eyes see the ebony enemy moving in ways no three dimensional object should. Warren's vision gets splotchy. Sazabi suddenly vanishes, only to be replaced by six hovering, spinning funnels. Every barrel is pointed directly at him. The powerful beam guns belch out hot death. A half-dozen illuminated spears converge on Griepe's position.

"So this is the Bodhi's love?" Weaver moves to accept the warm embrace. He's suddenly surrounded completely, absolutely by the warmth of the womb... or that's how his drug-fused mind interprets every single part of his undefended mobile suit melting away, the cockpit alone surviving to plummet back down to the streets. Only moments later, the Sazabi's blue funnels plummet too.

In his cockpit, sweat pours off Wade's forehead. His flight suit is drenched; hair plastered to his face. The intensity of the psycoframe and funnels proves too much for the young pilot. Before his eyelashes lace together, he manages to land Sazabi and power down. The fledgling Newtype legend rests.

Outcome: Sazabi wins, Griepe loses
Sazabi: 2 days damage
Griepe: 3 days damage (Special Circumstances; Switching to Stargazer)

___________________________________________________________________________
Xi versus Penelope versus Sisquiede
By: Victory 2

“D’accord, so we’re agreed? Last man standing wins, oui?” Lassiter Benoit smiles confidently within the cockpit of the Xi Gundam. He can almost feel his sister’s exasperation through the unspoken bond they share as siblings – strengthened, of course, by their Newtype abilities – as her voice interrupts.

“Best woman, salope, and you better be glad we don’t have any wagers riding on this one.” The tall, elegant Monique Benoit flips her blond hair back and pulls the pilot helmet down onto her head. “Because you will lose.”

Their banter is cut short by a brief cough from the third pilot involved in the coming battle. Deux Ysverda, a man of few words, is able to indicate his readiness to begin with a quick clearing of his throat. He takes a brief look around the rocky terrain as the other two quiet down. “You two sound like an old married couple. Let’s get this started so you can retire somewhere and drive thirty miles an hour below the speed limit together.”

Monique reddens slightly at this, while Lassiter chuckles good-naturedly. There is nothing good-natured, however, in the way the Xi bursts into motion, heading directly for the stationary Sisquiede.

“Ta choix, Deux.” Even Monique, with her Newtype abilities and connection to her brother, is slightly caught off-guard, and Deux scrambles to avoid the mobile suit rapidly growing larger in his viewscreen. The Sisquiede jets backwards itself, nearly ramming into the Penelope, but Deux is able to correct his course in time. This sets off an awkward chase, with the smaller Sisquiede seemingly being hounded by the two larger suits. Deux knows he will have to be creative if he wants to have any chance at winning this battle – while all three suits have powerful beam defense systems, the Xi and Penelope are also equipped with strong physical weaponry while he has only his sabers. As the thought crosses his mind, muzzle flashes indicate that the Xi is firing its vulcans at him, a rather odd tactic.

"Why would he…?" The small shells speed towards Deux, but he maneuvers around some outcroppings and most impact harmlessly against the stone. The few that get by ping against his leg, but the suit’s armor handles the attack with only minor cosmetic damage. However, the reason for Lassiter’s attack becomes clear, as the maneuvering has begun to allow the Xi to gain on the Sisquiede. Ysverda’s suit lacks the Minovsky craft systems that allow the other two to move seemingly effortlessly even within atmosphere, and it shows. Deux decides to try and take matters into his own hands.

“You’re going to owe me a paint-job!” Slamming a palm and foot on the ground for a momentum-change, Deux activates the Sisquiede’s powerful ‘Offense’ mode. Suddenly, he is pushed back into his seat by the incredible increase in G-forces, as his mobile suit appears to stop on a dime and then flash in the opposite direction. Even with his heightened reflexes and physical fortitude afforded by being a Coordinator in the Lunar Empire, he is totally unprepared for the immense difference between the two modes. "R&D didn’t tell me it would be like THIS!" he thinks.

With barely any time to react, Deux does manage to get his beam saber out and primes it as he nears the Xi. Lassiter attempts to dodge, but the change in speed between the standard flight mode and the Offense mode causes him to misjudge his movement, and he’s right in line for a full sweep across the lower half of his torso. No vital systems are hit, but Lassiter does wince as he hears gears scream in protest and shear away from the body of his suit. Swearing, he attempts to bring the Xi about and get a bearing on his opponent, but the Sisquiede jets away once more, coming around for another slash. “DAMMIT!”

That’s when the muscles in Deux’s hands spasm. The Sisquiede dips slightly, feet catching on the ground, and it tumbles head-over-heels into the distance. Thrown roughly about within his cockpit, Ysverda completely loses his bearings, and barely keeps the presence of mind to shut off the Offense system. It takes two tries. On his first attempt, his right shoulder burns with pain, and he has to reach across his body with his left hand to shut the system off.

“That’s going to leave a… Putain!” Lassiter’s voice echoes across Deux’s COMM system, but is cut off as the sounds of explosions induce a transmission break. Monique is a clever girl, and has been very clever indeed during this endeavor. Allowing the two other pilots to duke it out for a bit, she has taken her time and lined up a beauty of a shot with the numerous funnel missiles the Penelope employs.

“That was a cheap shot, Cocotte. You’re going down.”

“Bring it. Enlève ta croute que je swingue dans l'pus.” Monique offers her family member the European equivalent of flipping the bird, smacking her left forearm across her right elbow, le bras d’honneur.

Lassiter has had enough fun and games from his little sister, and goes after her with a vengeance and the most performance he can muster from his now-damaged suit. The two trade volleys of funnel missiles, using their beam weaponry to shoot down incoming missiles that they don’t dodge. The Xi gets the worst of the exchange, its maneuverability already slightly diminished, though both suits take moderate damage. However, Lassiter has craftily maneuvered himself closer and closer to the Penelope during the attacks, and in a surprise move he lobs a pair of rounds from his elbow and knee launchers and charges directly at Monique.

Dodging the missiles, the Penelope doesn’t have enough time to fully maneuver out of the way though Monique does manage to bring up her suit’s arm and redirect away what would have been a crippling thrust, though the Penelope’s left side gives a worrying shudder and squeals in protest. With no time to worry about that at the moment, Monique instead tries a sort of standing shoulder-tackle against the Xi, but unlike most mobile suits she is now going up against one with equal power and mass to her own! The behemoths lock momentarily without giving ground, but Lassiter wisely disengages before his suit’s more weakened structural integrity worsens further. That moment is all the opening Monique needs.

Grabbing a beam saber, she ignites it and slides forward, cutting upwards at the Xi’s head. Lassiter frantically dodges upward, avoiding decapitation, but receives a score along his already damaged lower half. However, now the Xi has aerial position on the Penelope, and has once more regained control. Pushing the attack for all he’s worth, Lassiter drives Monique’s suit down towards the ground, sensing one opening. Monique feels some sorts of trickery coming from her brother, but her senses aren’t attuned enough to gather a picture. She moves to land on the ground…

And tangles her suit’s feet up amidst the prone figure of the Sisquiede, sending it sprawling backwards to the rocky surface. Grinning, relaxed, Lassiter levels his saber directly at the Penelope’s head.

“Yield.”

“You got lucky.” Monique bites back another curse, not wanting to have to ask for additional repairs to her suit. Meanwhile, Deux is feeling rather bored in his cockpit, and a tad silly for having played a part in the end of the duel the way he had. Nevertheless, siblings to the end, Lassiter extends his suit’s hand downwards and helps the Penelope up, and the two cart back their compatriot to be fixed, and battle again another time.

Outcome: Xi wins, Penelope and Sisquiede lose
Xi: 3 days damage
Penelope: 2 days damage
Sisquiede: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Phoenix versus Quin Mantha
By: Trent

“So this is Earth…” Perched upon his open cockpit hatch, Jacob Okawara peers out across the vast Tibetan steppes. His chest heaves beneath a pure-white pilot suit; lungs fill with non-recycled air for what is nearly their first time. Though his eyes are concealed behind a silver mask, exposed lips curl into a content smile. For hours, the Phoenix Gundam patiently awaits a command from its pilot.

Morning turns to mid-day. The sun is free to shine bright and powerful overhead, not obscured by the few wisps of cloud in the sky. Quin Mantha takes this time to make its entrance. Trudging slowly, confidently over gentle-rolling hills, it stops not ten meters from the Phoenix’s back. Mega particle cannons are already primed and trained.

“Okawara?” a suspicious tone sounds over an open-band COMM.

Shaken from his reverie, Jacob glances at his panoramic monitor. A section of the globe transforms to show Octavian Langston’s quizzical face. “That’s an interesting name you’ve got there.”

“Langston?” at first, the Phoenix’s pilot doesn’t seem to acknowledge the statement. “I know a few people who’d say the same about yours…”

The cryptic response serves to break the ice between them. Octavian chortles. “Yeah, well I guess you’re alright then. Let’s get this over with, and you can tell me about those ‘few people.’”

Needing no further invitation, Phoenix’s cockpit closes and it takes to the sky on twin columns of vertical thrust. Twisting around, Jacob raises his beam rifle and fires two quick bursts. Both spears of yellow light are deflected off the Quin Mantha’s beam barrier.

Seeing the attacks fizzle to nothingness on his monitors, Octavian doesn’t delay in depressing his own trigger. The Mantha’s two chest cannons swirl with power; the suit arches its back, and a magnificent, sustained beam cuts upwards directly for Phoenix. Only barely does Phoenix manage to skirt sideways. Its armor sizzles from heat exposure, but nanites quickly form to knit the flesh wound. This doesn’t deter Octavian; maintaining the firepower, he tracks his target through the sky with beams, only barely behind the quick and nimble Gundam at every maneuver.

Perspiration falls past Okawara’s mouth. Only by luck (and the equal greenness of his sparring partner) do his inexperienced hands managed to keep up the dodging. Desperation causes him to toss away the beam rifle and draw a saber – the pink blade appears with a hiss. Phoenix is forced to continue its dance several moments more, until Quin Mantha finally breaks the mega particle stream and instead lifts its rear skirt armor in preparation for remote weapons.

“Not so fast!” Okawara shouts. Thrusters send him careening downwards, incising the air between the duelists. Quin Mantha interrupts its deployment and ignites every vernier on its monolithic body. The green mobile weapon takes a mighty “hop” sideways-right, just managing to parry before Phoenix comes down hard. The red and white Gundam’s saber cuts into nothingness, before plowing into soil.

“Close,” Octavian offers his praise. “But foolish.” Quin Mantha’s left hand raises to aim the built-in mega particle gun nearly point-blank at his target.

A spark in his Newtype senses warns Jacob of trouble; the same sensation extends to Langston, and right before he’s able to fire the Quin’s weapon, a different set of beams pounds into the Phoenix’s exposed back. Small plumes of smoke and heat dot the mobile suit as it’s thrown down onto its face.

Hyperion Unit 1 sets down a good distance away, shell casings from its beam machinegun littered at its feet. Inside, Atra Caelium is more than pleased with the damage done. A small section of her cockpit’s screen magnifies to show the Phoenix unmoving, and Quin Mantha trying to figure out what’s happened. Taking full advantage of the situation, she wastes no time in flipping forward Hyperion’s Forfanterie beam cannon.

“Jacob!?” Octavian’s concerned voice belts out over the COMM. No response.

Quin Mantha turns to face the battlefield’s unwelcome guest. Seeing the Forfanterie's two barrels alight with power, he knows exactly where they're aimed at. Quin Mantha places itself in front of Phoenix. They Hyperion's attack races over the steppes, burning grass and slicing a canal into the ground beneath its potent wake. When it impacts with Mantha's beam barrier, the shots separates, flowing around the spherical field and wrenching parallel holes in the Earth for several meters behind Octavian.

"Thanks Langston," a weary, confused Jacob picks his mobile suit up and glares over the distance at Hyperion. "Care to help me finish this nuisance off?"

No words need be spoken. Brothers under Orb as true as there can be, the mobile weapons begin a cooperative charge for their would-be attacker.

On her end, Atra just smiles: "You think you're the only one with a beam barrier?" Hyperion's Armure Lumiere deploys, the five projectors moving into position and erecting a perfect geometrical cover around its host. Even with the impenetrable barrier up, she's able to aim through its pink walls and fire outside.

Quinn and Phoenix learn this almost too late. Beam machinegun fire slices a line across their charge, doing nothing to Octavian's mobile suit, but forcing Jacob to dodge skyward and switch to mobile armor mode. Quin Mantha returns fire, its chest cannons again giving hell with its mega particle guns, but the Hyperion’s barrier proves an ultimate defense.

"Ideas?" Langston inquires, plowing through another barrage of ineffective machinegun fire while still charging the foe.

"One..." Jacob muses. "Just pick me up when this is over with..."

"Uh...?"

"Trust me!" Jacob closes off all further communication as his mobile armor begins to radiate with the heat of a sun. Were he one to shout out attack phrases, this maneuver would be known as the "Burning Attack." Phoenix doubles in speed, closing the gap between it and Hyperion even as Atra's Gundam fires another shot from its Forfanterie cannons. The blast does nothing against the plasma-like heat boiling over Phoenix's armor – not even slow down the flight mode as it plows through the Armure Lumiere system. Just skimming the top, it doesn't damage the Hyperion’s main body, but does knock out the barrier. This comes at the cost of Phoenix's own armor. It careens wildly into the distance before crashing into the ground, its pilot knocked completely unconscious.

Tossed around inside her cockpit, Atra struggles to keep her mobile suit upright. Though she succeeds, she momentarily forgets about Quin Mantha. The green giant finally catches up with Phoenix, stopping right in front of a newly-exposed Hyperion with mega particle cannons ready to engulf the ambusher.

"Surrender?" Langston asks.

Atra has no choice but to drop her weapons and exit the scene.

Outcome: Quin Mantha wins, Hyperion Unit 1 and Phoenix lose
Quin Mantha: 1 days damage
Hyperion Unit 1: 2 days damage
Phoenix: 4 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Rasveht ambushes Kshatriya
By: Victory 2

… and round and round…
Somebody save me, let your waters break right through.
Somebody save me, I don’t care how…

Ryan Melchior is currently doing a routine field-test of his mobile suit, the Kshatriya, whilst humming that tune under his breath. He’s not really sure why, or from whence it comes, but it has a catchiness that appeals to him. With the huge suit standing in a tranquil field at midday, he allows a pair of his funnels to exit from their containers, sending them on lazy arcs as he practices his fine control. Off in the distance, only a small hill can be seen. One executes a sloppy flip, and he grimaces. Focusing on the other one, he receives the barest flash of warning before it explodes in a burst of light.

“What in the?”

Screaming down from within the cover of the sun’s glare comes the Rasveht. Its beam rifle fires again, narrowly missing the other funnel, and Ryan’s COMM crackles. The cold voice of John Church spits out over his cockpit speakers.

“That’s so cute. Practicing all alone out here. Hey, when’s your recital? I’ll bet they’ll let you wear a pretty bow and everything!”

The Rasveht fires twice more, and the second of the shots catches the other funnel square, causing it, too, to detonate. Finally spurring himself into action after getting over his momentary surprise, Melchior allows himself a quick grin. His Kshatriya is nearly twice the size of the weakly armed Rasveht, with a far greater arsenal. “This should be quick,” he muses.

With a fast burst of his thrusters, Ryan closes upon the smaller suit, drawing one of his beam sabers. The Rasveht does the same, and the two engage in a quick hand-to-hand battle. The fight is soon over, as the larger suit’s saber cleaves right through the smaller one’s arm, continuing across its chest and piercing the reactor core. Quickly moving away, Ryan watches in satisfaction as the Rasveht explodes from within, ending the—

The Rasveht – “What?!” thinks Ryan – rakes beam rifle fire across the unprotected back of the Kshatriya, throwing Melchior hard against his restraints. Spinning his suit around, Ryan faces off against his opponent… Again. This time, his senses give him fair warning, and he dodges to the right just in time to avoid the fire from another Rasveht unit, this time approaching from his left flank.

Smirking in his own cockpit, John moves in, looking to end this fight quickly. He powers up his other units, moving them from behind the hill and within attacking range. His brow is already covered in sweat from the exertion of handling all four remaining Rasveht bits as well as his own suit, but John’s eyes betray nothing of the strain. The five suits move jerkily, firing in un-coordinated patterns, but the volume of fire and uniqueness of the attack has clearly caught Ryan off-guard.

Loosing the entirety of his funnel arsenal, Ryan quickly realizes the folly of his actions as he struggles to follow his opponents’ movements while handling his own numerous remote weapons. John has no such handicap, as he must focus on only one suit. Even so, the volume of beam fire that begins filling the air is devastating in overall force, as Melchior begins attacking with the beam weaponry in his chest and tail binders as well. With so many weapons and numerous targets of opportunity, accuracy is less important, and soon two more Rasveht bits are incapacitated. All three remaining ambushers drop their beam rifles and reach for their beam sabers, looking to strike decisively.

“Crap, crap, I can’t keep track… Okay, Ryan, concentrate.” Using his still-developing Newtype abilities, Melchior attempts to pick out which Rasveht unit has the true pilot. However, each time he does so, his control over his suit and funnels wavers significantly, and John moves ever closer, taking out several funnels each time and forcing Ryan to once again think primarily of his own survival. With his remote weaponry dwindled to almost nothing, the Kshatriya’s pilot decides on a desperate maneuver. He has managed to narrow the true pilot suit down to two of the three, and draws his own beam saber. “50/50 shot here…”

Unleashing a torrent of beam fire at all three suits, he dashes forwards towards his chosen target. The suit that was obviously a bit takes a blast directly from a chest mega particle cannon and loses functionality almost immediately, a gaping hole replacing its left side. Swinging his suit’s saber, John looks to catch the blow close to the hilt. He fails. The Kshatriya’s saber slides down the length of its opponent’s weapon and cuts off the arm, coming to rest inside a joint in the leg. That’s when the suit stops moving.

“Yes!” yells Ryan.

“Gotcha,” states John.

From behind, dodging far more effectively now that he doesn’t have to worry about any suits other than his own with the Flash system, Church cuts cleanly across the back side of the giant mobile suit, bringing his saber in a diagonal pattern that slices off both tail binders and severs the Kshatriya’s maneuvering servos in his right arm and leg. The larger suit’s failsafes kick in immediately to avoid a catastrophic reactor meltdown, and the mere handful of remaining funnels drop to the ground.

With two Rasveht bits totally destroyed and one non-functional, Church grabs the downed two bits with his two flight-capable suits – though one can’t really walk – and heads off, thinking of the cost for the repairs and all the excess fuel he’ll have to burn for the one bit. Angered, John can’t resist gloating momentarily to the downed Ryan Melchior.

“Later, pretty boy. You wouldn’t last two minutes in The Company.”

Outcome: Rasveht wins, Kshatriya loses
Rasveht: 3 days damage
Kshatriya: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Spiegel versus Freedom
By: Trent

Prague, C.C. 625

“Come,” the man spoke only this word before leaping to the next rooftop. Dressed in all black, he appeared a swift phantom moving above the streets of Prague. The girl knew not to ask questions; she followed right behind, having grown quick as her father after so many years of training.

Two shadows pranced from one ledge to the next, gentle footsteps never threatening to wake those whom slumbered beneath. It was a long journey over the old city, but made quick by their unusual route. When her father stopped, the girl mirrored his stillness. They had arrived at the St. Charles bridge on the Vlatava river. A tower stood guard at the threshold – their target was inside.

No words, just instincts. They bled into shadow, creeping between patches of darkness until coming upon the tower. Its old stone construction was cracked and cratered – more than easy to scale. The man went first. When he got to the top, a quick hand signal ushered her to ascend. In a breath, she had climbed five stories.

A guard smoked his cigarette out a nearby window. He crumbled into unconsciousness as the girl leapt inside, scissor kicking his chest and then rolling into a jumping uppercut that cracked his jaw. Now her father followed, voiceless, but proud. They proceeded into the tower until reaching the edge of a hallway. Pressing her body against the wall, the girl peered down to see two fully-armored guards waiting with sub-machineguns. Fists and feet would do no good. She was lost; her blue eyes peered from behind slits in the cloth mask, pleading for assistance.

The older man knew what to do. Another hand signal told the girl to charge. She did, without question. The guards saw her, raised their weapons to fire, and that’s when she heard six blades whistle past her, faster than even her feet could travel. Each one found its mark; one in the neck, leg and weapons’ arm of both guards. They didn’t even have a chance to gurgle up their own blood before she finished her run and knocked the air from their stomachs.

A flash, and her father stood there with her – above their fallen victims. Urging her to look away, he retrieved the six blades. She didn’t. She stared into their dead eyes, and said a prayer that they would soon meet God.

* * *

Earth, C.C. 330

Raelin Kiley Alexander braces herself with a prayer. The mobile trace system activates; two rings begin to rotate opposite of each other above, before the larger descends over the young girl's athletic frame and wraps it in a glossy, skin-tight pilot suit. A stubborn grimace fights against grunts of pain during the outfitting.

Outside the cockpit, Spiegel begins to imitate her every movement. Kiley stretches inside her second skin, and the Gundam mirrors every minute tick in her body.

"Impressive!" a face beaming with curious enthusiasm pops up on a small screen attached to one of Kiley's cockpit rings. The face is of a man wearing thin glasses that fall so far down his nose he can't possibly be peering through either lens. "Mind if I check you out?"

"What!?" Kiley's face becomes red with outrage and embarassment. "No, sir! You may not!"

James cocks his head in confusion. "But how do those sensors transmit the movements to your mobile weapon!? The material is so thin, it couldn't have any normal transmitters! I must know!"

"Oh... You want to check the Spiegel out..."

"Yes. What did you think...?"

Riley shakes her head, Spiegel doing the same. "I'm afraid to say the answer is still no. This mobile weapon's been in my family for generations. It's a valuable, guarded secret of the true--" she stops herself from saying anymore. "Nevermind. The answer is no."

"Well then," James pushes his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose. "I guess I'll have to tear you apart to find out!"

Spurred on by its master’s call to arms, Freedom becomes aglow with power. Its eyes burn, and blue wings fan out from its back. “System All Green,” a sweet artificial voice informs James. The Gundam draws its beam rifle. The targeting system automatically obtains a bead on Spiegel.

“Feel the power of Freedom!” an over-excited James pulls the trigger.

Spiegel cartwheels to its left, its quick response time putting the mobile fighter one step ahead of another two shots. In all, the Freedom is only allowed three more rounds before Raelin deploys her two blades and makes a sprint to close within melee range of her foe. James continues to fire, but even as she charges at him, the beams miss to either side.

“Nice try!” Raelin’s excitement is palpable – her father taught her well. She ducks one more beam rifle shot, then sweeps at the Freedom’s feet.

“Ha! The Freedom isn’t just for show!” James kicks his thrusters into gear and avoids being tripped, but doesn’t see the uppercut coming. In one fluid motion, Spiegel comes out of its low blow and slices skyward with its blade. The attack is ferocious and strong and… completely ineffective against Freedom’s Phase Shift.

“Huh?” Kiley grimaces. She jabs her other arm’s blade into the foe’s torso, but again it bounces off with little more than a spark. “H… how?” She had put all her strength into those attacks; no one should be able to withstand such potent hits.

Still hovering in the air from dodging the sweep, Freedom lowers its beam rifle to rest right on Spiegel’s forehead. “Looks like I don’t need that pathetic technology after all! Damn; I was hoping to fight someone who could actually provide a challenge.”

Raelin stares into the beam rifle’s barrel in utter shame. All of training, all of her conditioning, and still not strong enough to break down a simple Gundam…

James can see the Spiegel’s interpretation of her distress, and for a moment almost feels bad. “Aw, don’t cry! Nobody can stand up against the Freedom! It’s not your fault that ‘family heirloom’s’ an outdated piece of trash. Right? Right!?”

Anger creases Raelin’s brow. Thoughts are scattered; she needs to focus. She remembers that night in Prague. If only…

Prayers are often answered in mysterious ways. For Raelin, the blessing comes as two remote weapons suddenly loose bolts of mega particles from right behind Freedom. So distracted was he with his own suit’s majesty, James failed to realize the presence of a third unit. His flight systems shudder, and Freedom crumbles onto Spiegel.

“Don’t be so arrogant,” Makato Nagano says, his tone more of a friendly suggestion than venemous. “It could get you killed someday.”

Nu Gundam stands in the distance, its bazooka primed as the two fin funnels return to their backpack storage rack. Targeting indicators dart about the panoramic display in Nagano’s cockpit, before rapid beeping indicates a full-on lock. The bazooka sprays out its total salvo in under five seconds; the shells careen over the distance and impact against Freedom as it’s struggling to stand.

The blue Gundam is again thrown to the ground. Sirens blare above James’s head; he looks at the damage report, but it’s all more-or-less superficial. None of the ballistic rounds had an effect on his Phase Shift. Normally he’d be pleased, but having seen the Nu’s fin funnels in action, the glaze of obsession covers his vision.

“Just think what those could do for my Freedom…” he tells himself. Nigh-possessed, James darts back to his feet this time and draws a beam saber. CIWS vulcan guns spray distracting fire towards Nu, forcing Nagano to skid backwards. Even without him telling them to, the fin funnels launch and go into beam barrier formation. All of Freedom’s ballistic attacks bounce dully off the barrier. The blue Gundam isn’t deterred; rather, its pilot seems elated. James’ suit breaks out into a full sprint, melee weapon raised high in hopes of slashing one of the bits to capture its “secrets.”

“Hey!” meanwhile, a fully-recovered Raelin materializes behind Nu. Nagano senses her presence; his suit turns around to face the mobile fighter while its funnels break the barrier. Listening to the psycoframe (and his subconscious instincts) more than the pilot itself, the funnels spray Freedom with fire while Nu draws its large beam sword and prepares to meet Spiegel in melee.

Raelin is all-too-happy to oblige. Raising both Spiegel blades in an X-formation above her head, she comes down strong. Nagano manages to block their mass in the center of his sword, but Nu’s strength only barely holds on. Both mobile weapons strain to win this test of wills. In the background, Freedom is bombarded by funnel fire, seemingly fighting back with only half interest while its cameras record data on the unusual weapons.

“We don’t have to fight!” Nagano insists. The psycoframe begins to resonate with an unknown energy. Nu’s thrusters kick in, providing it the extra vigor to break the saber lock and send Spiegel stumbling back. Pressure begins to build in his head – the sensations are just too intense. He feels Raelin’s will to get better; he somehow understands James’ obsession with technology. The world suddenly becomes infinitely large and small. Then he loses consciousness.

Witnessing the Nu (and its fin funnels) collapse, Raelin does a jumping twirl into the air and focuses all of her training into a single whirlwind twirl. Dozens of messergranz pierce not only Nu’s joints, but so precise is her aim, they also managed to find spots on Freedom not covered by Phase Shift. Five black shards stick out of Freedom, and it falls over as if all power has been drained.

“How as that for a test run?” vindication sounds in her voice. The exclamation is less one of gloating, and more for self-affirmation.

James never gets the message. Even when his mobile weapon was being turned into a pin cushion, he’d already gotten out to examine the fallen fin funnels. Tears form behind his glasses; he’s a kid in a candy store.

Outcome: Spiegel wins, Freedom and Nu lose
Spiegel: 2 days damage
Nu: 2 days damage
Freedom: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Rafflesia versus Zeta
By: Victory 2

The coin flashes in mid-air, spinning end-over-end rapidly. Suddenly, a hand snatches it and slams it down against the back of a palm with enough force to create an audible smacking sound.

“Heads.”

It is indeed heads, the fifth such time in a row. All called correctly by the pilot of the Zeta Gundam, Tristram McDowell, currently lounging about in his mobile suit after having just completed a routine maintenance check. "Damn, I’m good. Alright, time to take this bad-boy out for a drive." Flashing into Waverider mode, the Zeta careens out of its hangar, zooming across the sky. This was, however, just such the opening Leighton Anderson had been waiting for. The absolutely massive Rafflesia mobile armor’s thrusters flare to life, as Leighton places the neo-psycommu control helmet on.

“It’s time we showed the company who’s a more valuable asset, Lucky.” The venom in Leighton’s voice nearly drips off the Zeta’s communications set.

Tristram simply shuts it off. "He’s got nothing to say to me I haven’t already heard, anyway."

The Zeta switches into mobile suit mode and turns to meet the onrushing threat, but Tristram’s heart sinks as he thinks about the odds he faces. The majority of his weaponry that could put any sort of dent in something that large are beam-based, and the Rafflesia is covered with a barrier that reflects beam weaponry. Sighing in resigned fashion, “Lucky” pulls out his grenade launcher and begins taking potshots at the behemoth bearing down on him.

“Smile, you son of a…” As if on cue, the Rafflesia’s trademark ‘petals’ shift open, and lo and behold, several of the grenades actually manage to slip between the opening sheaths of metal to score moderate damage on the center frame of the mobile armor. Perhaps a bit lucky, the shots nevertheless don’t particularly hamper the onrushing Rafflesia, and Leighton extends many of the deadly tentacle rods. Without much finesse, he sends his mobile armor into a high-speed spin, and closes one eye within his cockpit trying to catch hold of the nimble Zeta Gundam. The numbers game finally catches up to McDowell, and a dozen chainsaw-bearing rods rip across the torso of his suit, causing significant damage.

“Okay, screw this, I’m outta here. Can’t make a profit if you’re dead!” At that, the Zeta switches into Waverider mode again, and jets out at top speed, looking for a less-hostile locale to battle probability. "Maybe some of those casinos I heard tell of over in the central region…" His thoughts trail off into the distance, as does his suit.

“Hey hey hey, come back here, I’m not through with you yet! Damn coward!” Anderson considers giving chase for a brief moment, but simply shrugs instead. "Whatever, I think I’ve proved my point to corporate. See if any of them dare pass me up for a promotion the next time one comes available."

Outcome: Rafflesia wins, Zeta loses
Rafflesia: 1 days damage
Zeta: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Maxter versus Jack in Diamond
By: Trent

(Note: This play on Marcus De La Ali III Jr. went a little bit far… I apologize.)

Charlie Cordova stands absolutely stunned. Already in his mobile trace system, preparing for an official Gundam Fight with Maxter, he just can’t believe his eyes…

Six elephants driven by scantily-clad Indian temptresses pull a gilded parade float through the streets of Neo New York. Atop the float, Maxter waves to an adoring crowd – its visage nearly blotted out by a tornado of confetti. Jet planes course through the sky above. Paratroops designed as ninjas descend to get mock-stepped on by the boxing legend.

“Y—you’re serious?” Jack of Diamonds’ pilot seriously considers tossing a coin to decide whether or not he should walk away.

Suddenly four helicopters buzz in, carrying a Gundam-size microphone. Marcus De La Ali III Jr. is standing outside his cockpit on his suit’s shoulder, free of the mobile trace system, yet somehow his movements still control the Maxter.

“Thank you, thank you ladies! I’ll make this quick, so we can get back to making sweet, sweet relations later tonight!”

An ear-piercing screech sends shockwaves through the crowd. Some female fans faint, and fire trucks are brought onto the scene to hose them all down. The police send notice to Ali’s manager that it’d be best if he ends the speech now, lest more girls become pregnant by hearing his voice alone.

Then suddenly they’re all gone. In fact, they’re no longer in Neo New York. Surrounded by a large desert, it’s as if the entire city packed up and walked away in less than thirty seconds.

“Uh… What the hell?” Cordova asks.

“Oh, that?” Marcus gets into his mobile trace suit. “A city follows around with me. It’s all good.”

“… right then…”

“Prepare to face the pain of a thousand knockouts!” Saying no more, Marcus and Maxter burst into combat, boxing gloves falling over the fighter’s hands as it charges across the sand and shoulder-spears the Jack of Diamonds in its gut. Cordova winces from pain delivered into his mobile trace system, and soon finds himself laying on the ground beneath a gloating opponent.

“Knockout! Knockout!” Marcus yells.

Cordova decides it’s time to hit the arrogant bastard where it’ll hurt him most. Giving one good kick upwards, he connects square in Maxter’s groin. Jack of Diamond rolls away, but surprisingly there’s no reaction on Marcus’ part.

“Mind explaining THAT one?”

“Marcus De La Ali III Jr. Brand Sports Cup. Never leave the ladies without it!”

“You built a Gundam-sized cup? You’re one sick bastard, y’know that?” Getting back to its feet, the Jack of Diamonds wastes no time ringing off a few vulcan rounds. The tiny ballistic impacts are a mere nuisance to Maxter, but it allows Cordova to circle to his opponent’s side and line up a shot with his flamethrowers. The Diamond’s forearms become engulfed by fire, which spews forth like napalm straight for the enemy.

“Hey bro, not cool!” In a surprising display of spatial awareness, Marcus punches into the sand, sending up a shower of granules that effectively walls him off from the blast. So intense is the heat, in fact, a giant glass barrier forms between the two mobile fighters. Maxter takes a moment to appreciate its visage, then punches through the fragile rampart. Shards glisten and sparkle under the desert sun as they flight straight at Jack of Diamonds.

“Okay,” Cordova admits. “Maybe he’s not retarded.” The Jack can’t possibly dodge in time; it’s body is soon punctured by dozens of microscopic shards, and the Gundam fighter inside reels from pain. It’s almost as painful as hearing Marcus’ bad imitation of a Bruce Lee “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” over the COMM System.

* * *

Ten kilometers away, safely hidden from all the nonsense by sand dunes, a lone mobile weapon levels its cannon. Inside, the pilot cycles through a lot – A LOT – of options, finally settling on a specific ammo that strikes his fancy. With a pull of the trigger, he looks into a periscope to see if his target hit.

* * *

In the sky five kilometers away from Maxter and Jack of Diamonds, a High Explosive shell detonates and rains even more explosions across the heavens. Marcus can’t help but notice the fireworks and salutes the patriotic display. “We are the champions, we are the champions, no time for losing, cause we are the—“

The next shot doesn’t miss… that badly. In fact, it lands directly next to Jack of Diamonds. Just getting to his feet, Cordova curses and braces for the inevitable…

… it never comes. The fuse doesn’t light, and the shell doesn’t explode. Unexplainable, pure luck allows the Jack of Diamonds – injured and embarrassed at this whole fight – to trudge over to a still-mesmerized Maxter. For a moment, he seriously considers just walking away. “No,” he resolves. “This traveling freak parade needs some humility.”

“Hey!” Cordova shouts. Jack of Diamonds rears back its fist. The exclamation catches Marcus’s attention, and he turns just in time to get a jaw-full-o’-pimp hand. “Knockout!”

“That’s what you think honky!” Sprawled out on the floor of his cockpit, Marcus presses a sequence of buttons tied into his cornrows. Suddenly F16s destroy any trace of the battle ever happening with nuclear weapons, and the two fighters are saved by Billy Dee Williams on what suspiciously resembles the Millenium Falcon.

Later on, in the hologram chess room, they all play poker but let the Wookie win.

Outcome: Chewbacca wins (what a Wookie)
Maxter: 1 days damage
Jack of Diamonds: 1 days damage
Jim: No damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Maxter versus Jack in Diamond
By: Trent

It seems only natural that the pilots of SUMO and Victory 2 are to duel, if you consider all things. A former Gundam Fighter against a Guardsmen of the Lunar Empire; some would say they have no choice but to duel, for the sake of honor…

Simao Gomes works his way through his controls as he prepares for battle. A past champion of champions, having fought for his entire colony, this was nothing compared to the tournaments. A fight for the honor of Jessica Weathers? Nothing at all.

Inside the V2, Astrophel moves through similar system checks. He never thinks of the mobile suit as his, even in his mind it’s Erasmus’ first and foremost. “For Jessica Weathers, may she live forever...”

Astrophel’s simple oath is as close a battle cry this engagement gets to heralds the duel’s beginning. Both mobile suits move at once through the large clearing in the middle of the forest, each one sleek in their own way. The so called “wings of light” flare into existence for only a moment as Astrophel sends the Victory flying up into the air, creating a distance between the two in almost no time. The beam rifle in his Gundam’s hand sends more than a few shots cutting through the air between the two, Simao moving his mobile suit with more than a little jerkiness to avoid them.

“Damn Newtypes…” is all Simao mutters as he yanks the controls to make the SUMO’s flight pattern that much more random, the unorthodoxly shaped mobile suit skimming only a few meters over the ground as it evades the shots.

The next few minutes are a ballet of sorts for the two pilots, Simao able to avoid all but a single shot to the leg, yet unable to mount any sort of offense as he focuses on dodging. Inside the Victory, Govannon simply continues his assault, patiently trying to maneuver for a clean shot, while not allowing himself to become riled as the SUMO defies even preternatural targeting.

The ballet subtly changes tempo as Astrophel finally tires of destroying the landscape with missed shots, abandoning the beam rifle, bringing his beam saber into play. The wings of light manifest once more, marking his rapid descent as he dives down on the SUMO. Simao begins grinning as he spins the heat fan around in the SUMO’s fingers. For a moment he misses the feeling of holding the weapon himself, to feel the weight of the object like when he fought for Neo-Brazil, but he pushes these thoughts away quickly.

The Victory’s advantage in speed means little in such close quarters as Simao takes the battle to Astrophel, the two exchanging blows at lightning pace. Astrophel forces the Victory into a backpedal to give himself enough time to respond to the SUMO’s onslaught. It’s all Simao can do to just grunt as he keeps up the tempo, raining blows on the Victory, countering and recountering as the Victory continues blocking the strikes with its beam saber.

The two continue the dance, neither gaining any advantage over the other until the SUMO suddenly drops to a knee, swinging the fan horizontally, below the Victory’s guard. The impact of the heat fan slicing through Victory’s torso rattles Astrophel as he slams the controls to send V2 sideways, the head mounted vulcans plastering the SUMO as he clears some distance before finally landing nearly a hundred meters away.

The two mobile suits stare at each other for a moment, their pilots assuming a typical showdown stance. As usual with all such moments, the standoff is broken with the two charging each other at once, Astrophel holding his beam saber in the normal samurai position, both hands on the handle with it raised in the air, ready for the downstroke. Simao holds the heat fan out from his body, his arm ready for a horizontal slash as he charges forward as well. Two stances, one intent…

Neither pilot able to make good on them. A series of beams lance the Victory through its back, and their impact send Astrophel and his Gundam skidding across the ground, a large furrow of dirt left in their wake, the massive mobile suit finally coming to a stop only after plowing into a tree.

“Hahahaha! Insignificant peons! You should know that the first rule of business is that at least one person is going to stab you in the back!”

Vladimir Antonov laughs as he sends the Perfect Zeong’s two massive hands towards the grounded Victory Gundam 2. It doesn’t matter that nobody can hear him gloat with his radio turned off, or even that his accent is particularly pronounced as he rants – it’s the act of gloating that matters, nothing else.

The Zeong’s fingers glow for brief moments between shots as the ten beam cannons imbedded within unload themselves constantly. He is a company man through and through; one of the few people blessed with doing what they love for a living. This is business – Annapolis business – and Vlad enjoys every moment of it as he continues waylaying the V2 from afar.

It takes Simao a moment to register what is going, and another to decide what to do. Crippled as he is, he still sees clearly, his eyes following the near invisible wires that link the remote weapons to the hidden attacker. With a sigh he flings the SUMO’s massive heat fan towards the cluster of trees where the Zeong is hiding. It serves no purpose, but Simao follows up by immediately whipping out his mobile suit’s beam pistol. While no love is lost between him and the Empire, Simao begins sending his own stream of beams towards the Zeong, the shots clearing the trees that conceal the massive Newtype suit. “Our duel is suspended for now,” he informs Govannon. “Afterwards we can resume out fight, but for now let’s deal with this…annoyance.”

The sudden shock of the attack still leaves Astrophel Govannon scrambling with the controls of the Victory 2, unable to reply to Simao as he tries anything to stop the beams from destroying his brother’s Gundam. Activating the Minovsky Drive the two massive beam wings form from his back, one of them severing the Zeong’s left hand, the other blocking shots from the right hand. His brother had truly received an amazing dowry. With the constant rain of fire being abated by the wings of light it affords Astrophel a chance to right his Gundam as well as to take stock of the damage to his mobile suit.

Just then, he registers a Newtype ping in his mind. Yet another threat has come to play, and Govannon spins the V2 around, its massive wings acting as a barrier against what can only be described as a storm of mega particles…

Another company man, Dreyson Bly (pilot of the Providence) has coincidentally been given the same assignment as Vladimir. The Annapolis recruit grins as he watches his initial burst of beams splash harmlessly against the V2’s most impressive defense. Soon after, DRAGOONs fly out from the Providence and the beams start taking the already damaged Victory from every angle.

“Hohoho, aren’t we the brave little killer?” Three beams – Annapolis beams, at that – score direct hits against the Zeong, tearing into the center of its massive chest. Vladimir – not for the first time in his life – is glad the cockpit is located in the head, as he reels back both of his mobile suit’s hands. It’s bad enough his target was fighting someone on arrival, but now another “company man” was trying to steal his kill? Being, above all else, a firm believer in self-preservation, Mr. Antonov fires his remaining torso mounted mega particle cannon, joining it with the one in his suit’s head, both of them hitting the SUMO. With his query distracted, Vlad broads a message: “Well, it does appear as if my time here is closed. Ciao!” Activating the large number of thrusters the Perfect Zeong possesses, Vlad and his mobile armor retreat with surprising speed into the forest.

Seeing his target flee, Simao turns the SUMO around and watches as Victory hacks away at the amazing number of wire-guided weaponry that surrounds it. The white Gundam’s armor is mostly melted or melting, having suffered greatly from the win Annapolis assaults. Simao can even smell the ion created by so many beams, even in the SUMO’s cockpit. Though he truly doesn’t care for the Victory or its pilot, and even less for the Lunar Empire, he does not intend on seeing his opponent die by some cowards’ treachery – a throwback, in many ways, to his days as a Gundam Fighter.

Simao can hear the hum of the IF Generator as he mashes the button to activate it, the field more than strong enough to protect against any beam. Charging the SUMO towards the sources of the DRAGOONs he can feel the beams shifting target from Astrophel to himself. Under the barrage, an occasional blast causes the Simao to rock inside his cockpit, yet none of the beam are powerful enough to stop in his charge of the second ambusher.

Inside the V2 the normally quiet and unflappable Astrophel finally gives himself over to his temper. He lets loose with what he has left: spraying head mounted vulcans at the barely visible Providence. A beam saber in hand hacks through another DRAGOON as he sends his mobile suit diving for the beam rifle he had discarded earlier; the impact of the landing throws him about violently. With his teeth grinding from frustration he grabs the beam rifle, rolling the V2 over to face the Providence, squeezing off shot after shot at the enemy mobile suit. The majority of fire misses, destroying the forest around the Providence, but the few beams that hit tear up its lower torso and right arm. Much like Vlad, Dreyson decides on discretion, quickly retreating from the two mobile suits that have him in their sights.

Beam after beam issues from the V2 in the Providence’s general direction long after it becomes obvious that the company man is gone. It’s only when Simao in the SUMO pulls the rifle from the Victory that Astrophel stops firing. “They’re gone, we can do this again sometime…”

Astrophel unconsciously nods in response to Simao’s offer, returning to a quiet and collected demeanor.

Outcome: Victory 2 and SUMO win, Zeong and Providence lose
Victory 2: 3 days damage
SUMO: 2 days damage
Zeong: 2 days damage
Providence: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
The Initiative
By: Trent

“Base Altara…” a diagnostic of his target flashes over the screen before Elric Tchaikovsky. A yellow grid transforms into the basic outline of a mountainous volcano, while a dark blue box displays a manifest of troop strength and mobile weapon capacity. “Three Taurus, two Tragos and ten Leo units.” His quantum computer soon displays information on all three types of mobile suit reported to appear at the installation. “I’ll have to thank Drake’s Legacy informants when I get back.”

Outfitted with the Noir Striker Pack, Strike E soars through cloudy skies of the American Northwest. In earlier millennia, his target might have been known as Mount St. Helens. To people in that forgotten time, it was mostly dormant. By C.C. 630, its continuously erupting lava flow is well documented. Orb’s Altara base is known to take full advantage of the volatile area, having specially equipped its mobile weapons to withstand the heat and common seismic disturbances.

“No way I can take this place down yet…” Elric’s words trail off as he cycles through the list of available targets. “But maybe I can earn a little spare cash before retreating.”

Not far away, another member of Drake’s Legacy has quite the same thoughts. While not working in concert with Elric, Dylan Bennet has received much the same details about Altara from spies. Her Zanspine moves effortlessly through the darkened skies, two magnificent pink wings of light tracing its course.

The heavens darken further, turning the color of heated basalt. Zanspine is the first to reach base Altara, its left arm igniting a beam shield while the right hand grips tight its virulent rifle. Dylan surveys the area: Base Altara is setup on the mountainside, a manmade platform of highly-heat-resistance metal around which rivers of lava make landing anywhere else completely impossible. The installation itself has only one command tower and three hangars, but a battery of missile and laser turrets already move to open fire.

“No time to gawk,” Dylan furrows her brow and jukes sideways. Warheads splay up from their launchers, smoking white contrails ripping through the space next to Zanspine – they miss. The laser turrets fire; the first goes a little high, searing her tikle bit launchers; the second cuts her leg clean off. Inside the cockpit, warning sensors blare. Ten Leo trudge out of their hangars, each raising a drum machinegun and loosing tracers into the sky. Dylan yelps; she fires blindly into their number and manages to tag one. The resulting detonation throws the others off enough for her to whisk higher into the air, out of ballistics range.

“Need some help, miss?” Elric’s voice crackles over the COMM as Strike Noir falls fast and determined past Zanspine’s position. Shorty beam rifle in both hands, it catches the Leos’ attention with a strafing run that slices through the head of a second defensive mobile suit – it isn’t destroyed, but it does go down. The lasers and missiles open fire in response, and three Taurus go airborne in mobile armor mode. Their fast, sleek frames cut through the smoke-filled air and give hot pursuit to Strike.

With the defenses distracted, Dylan seizes the opportunity and Zanspine descends with wings of light wrapped forward around her body. The base’s two Tragos are already there to intercept; beam cannons plaster the wings of light, yet the potent yellow fire does little faced against Zanspine’s pink cocoon. Missing one leg, Dylan is forced to hover her mobile weapon inches over Base Altara, wings unfurling to reveal her beam rifle trained directly at the lead Tragos. One clean shot smokes through its torso.

Meanwhile, all three Taurus give Strike Noir a hot pursuit. Their beams arch forward out of their rifles, only barely missing Elric. The Drake’s Legacy fighter has no choice; he knows these pilots aren’t experienced, otherwise he’d be dead. He also knows his time behind the controls of a mobile suit isn’t much greater. Several tactics shoot through his mind, but only one seems insane enough to work.

Noir cuts its thrust. The suit takes a direct hit to its back from a laser, Variable Phase Shift giving way beneath the concentrated light. Its right wing smokes, but Elric isn’t worried. Without anything propelling it forward, the Noir begins a freefall that places it directly below the Taurus. They scream by, having lost sight of their target. In a split second, Elric launches an anchor, the wire-bound weapon piercing the last Taurus to pass and taking firm hold.

“Ha!” Elric congratulates himself, then raises a shorty beam rifle and blasts two good holes through the Taurus. It explodes, taking the anchor down too. Strike Noir resumes a freefall; Elric turns the thrusters back on, but having lost the wing to laser fire earlier makes it extremely difficult to steer. He can do little when sirens blare, alerting him to another salvo of incoming missiles. Variable Phase Shift armor takes the brunt of the force; only a small portion of his exposed wing is hit, damaging it moderately more.

Back at Base Altara, the second Tragos is joined by its eight operational Leo brethren. Dylan’s eyes shift rapidly between each of their weapons, all trained directly for her cockpit. Zanspine is a mighty mobile suit, but she knows the odds are against her fledgling piloting abilities. Before any of them fire, she manages to again set the wings of light safely into a shield position, and Zanspine lifts away from their deadly projectiles.

“I think we’ve done all we can today,” Elric’s face pops up in a section of her panoramic monitor. “We’ve got enough money; time to head home.”

Dylan can’t argue. Seeing the crippled Strike Noir moving off into the eastern skies, she sets a course to join it at full speed.

Outcome: Base Altara remains
Strike E: 2 days damage
Zanspine: 2 days damage
Base Altara: 1 Leo, 1 Taurus, 1 Tragos destroyed | Credits Lost: 700.000.c

___________________________________________________________________________
Gaia ambushes Hildolfr
By: Trent

“Range…” Messaoud Naceri carefully measures the distance ahead. “Twenty kilometers.” He adjusts the Hidolfr’s main cannon to aim for the banks of a small river all the way out, still marveling at his machine’s extreme range. “Weapon calibrated…” he can’t help but smile. “Loading H.E.A.T. round.” This is perfect. The information a young street scamp provided him has allowed Messaoud to setup in a well-constructed camouflage netting. His mobile tank blends in completely with the surrounding foliage – a tiny deciduous forest whom none could suspect harbored a giant weapon of war…

“What ya up to?” an inquisitive, friendly female voice blares through Messaoud’s COMM.

“Oh, nothing. Just getting ready to…” recognition dawns on the unfortunate pilot’s face. He turns one of the Hidolfr’s cameras to catch a glimpse of his rear.

Waiting in its sleek quadruped mode, Gaia (Messaoud’s target) already has both assault cannons trained on her would-be attacker. The mobile weapon resembles a predator cat, playing with its prey. Inside, Xiss Nikolov knows on her first excursion it wouldn’t hurt to end this quickly. Her anxious hand rests on the firing controls, thumb about to depress the trigger.

“No…” Messaoud mutters.

“Excuse me?”

“No! Yesterday I had to put up with that crap in Egypt, and now you’re pulling this!? No!” Messaoud slams on the gas, his Hidolfr breaking through its camouflage netting, treads burning rubber as they push into the clearing. With precision piloting brought about only by stress, he manages to swing his mobile tank around and train the H.E.A.T.-loaded cannon on Gaia.

Xiss responds by leaping to the side, as the air where her mobile weapon once occupied becomes filled with smoke. The heat round whizzes by, crashing into the forest, creating a fiery pyre.

“No good,” the tank’s pilot shakes his head. “Loading HESH round instead.” One huge shell casing is ejected from the Hidolfr’s mass, its loading system wasting little time in replacing the spent shell with another type of ammunition.

Before he can fire, however, an indescribable wave of destruction rips through the ground between Hidolfr and Gaia. White with eccentric blue sparks, this torrent of pure annihilation tears up the ground, kicks up rock debris, and traces a path away from Hidolfr and towards Gaia.

“Oh god…” Xiss’s eyes light up in surprise. Gaia backpedals for a second or two, then turns away from the wall completely. It’s forced to run through the burning woods, heat damage doing little to its Variable Phase Shift. She emerges from the other end somewhat seared, but no worse for the wear. Fortunately, the beam doesn’t follow.

Unfortunately, Double X is awaiting her arrival. Its twin satellite cannons flip back into resting position, and a large green beam sword ignites. “Sorry to interrupt,” Lance Mithaniel smirks.

“Not at all,” Xiss returns the smile. “All I really needed was a good target to test this machine out.” Gaia leaps straight for Double X, Griffon beam sabers deploying to either side like wings as it passes. They scar the X, but Lance manages to step aside and trace his target’s path with breast launcher bullets. The ballistics do nothing to Gaia’s VPS armor, pinging off its frame as the quadruped turns around for another pass.

Faced with no other choice, Double X extends its beam sword out in a horizontal attack position and charges. Both meet in a shower of sparks; Gaia moves left as they converge, so its right Griffon saber can connect with X. Lance brings his sword across the foe’s head, cutting up at the last minute to remove its “snout” and MA-18R beam assault cannons. Ultimately both opponents lose parts – the Double X’s left shoulder and arm falling clean off by the time they have moved away from one another in opposite directions.

Lance breathes heavily – he’s surprised to be alive. Rear cameras show the Gaia facing away from him, its pilot obviously not ready to continue either. Flipping on his radio, he strains to speak on heavy exhalations: “That… was close…”

“You’re telling me,” sweat comes like a deluge from Xiss’s forehead. “How ‘bout we call this a dra—“ Before she can finish, recognition dawns on her face. Memory traces back to the beginning of the battle, remembering Hidolfr just in time to hear (more than see) an H.E.S.H. round careening right at the Gaia. It impacts under the damaged portion of her mobile weapon; the plastic round detonates, not penetrating the Variable Phase Shift, but still rattling its frame. Black smoke wafts up from the Gaia, more from the explosion than any actual structural damage.

Some distance away, Messaoud sees the direct hit and smiles, not caring that little damage was inflicted: “Looks like I’m getting better with this thing. Time to call it a day.”

Outcome: Draw
Hidolfr: No damage
Gaia: 2 days damage
Double X: 1 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Physalis ambushes Maxter
By: Trent

“Where da fool at!?” Already prepared for battle, Maxter stands “en guarde” in the desert, waiting for a proper rematch after the… silliness… that happened yesterday. Inside, Marcus De La Ali III Jr.’s mobile trace system has outfitted him in full afro and pimp sunglasses.

Little does he know, Jack of Diamonds has little interest of wading into “the crazy” two days in a row. Rather, its pilot has elected to chase down the Wookie so he can get his money back.

Night comes; Maxter still waits, a determined (and easily distracted) opponent. By now, Marcus has found the shards of glass left over from his attack on Jack of Diamonds. He gets lost in admiring his mobile fighter.

Suddenly a new face appears in the shards. Not his intended challenger, rather, Physalis charges in with thrusters blasting and shield pressed forward. It connects with the unsuspecting Maxter’s back, toppling the suit in a single blow. It lands face first into sand.

Marcus is bewildered. “Where my hoes at!?” he asks, rolling onto his back. He looks up to see the Physalis, shield now in one hand, pink beam saber glowing in the opposite. “Aw heeeell no!” Maxter quickly unholsters both giant magnums and pumps several good rounds into Physalis’s chest. “John Wayne style, bitch!”

The Physalis stumbles backwards, Edgar tossed slightly around by the force of these shots. None are potent as a normal beam rifle, but after sustaining three blows, they’ve still ruined his mobile weapon’s chest. Fortunately, he manages to catch the next few rounds with his shield and regain proper footing.

Maxter stands and throws the weapons away. “Knockout time!” Marcus yells, gloves moving from the suit’s shoulders to its fist. With a guttural battle cry he sprints the distance to Physalis and plants one good hit into the mobile suit’s shield. Weakened by previous blows, the barrier crumbles into three different pieces. Edgar discards it, returning fire with his head-mounted vulcan guns. The 60mm bullets trace over Maxter’s chest, coursing pain through its pilot’s mobile trace system. Tiny electrical shocks pierce Marcus’s body, paralyzing him in place while Physalis cocks its saber back and then stabs the blade straight through its foe’s head.

“I want my money back,” is the first thing Edgar says. “’Ninjas versus Pirates versus The Pimp 2: Invasion of the Po-Po’ was awful.”

“Aw man, I agree! I wasn’t even involved. Some direct to DVD sequel shit. I didn’t even gets my royalties!”

“Oh…” Physalis turns around. “Sorry about that then…”

Outcome: Physalis wins, Maxter loses
Physalis: 2 days damage
Maxter: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Quin Mantha versus Jack in Diamond
By: Victory 2

“So, what’s your name again? I don’t think I caught it when we decided to set this up.” In the Quin Mantha, Octavius Langston scratches his jawline, powering up his behemoth of a mobile suit. Behind it, the small waves of a nearby lake lap lazily at the gritty sand upon which the suit stands, as does that of his opponent. In the Jack of Diamonds, Charlie Cordova thinks for a few minutes before answering in a slight drawl, a spur-of-the-minute affectation.

“I didn’t offer it. George Hamilton’s the name. You almost ready or what?” His laid-back appearance belies the tension in the muscles of the mobile fighter pilot, prepared to spring into action at any time.

Octavius grunts into the comm. system, and flares up his engines.

Charlie takes this as a sign of assent, and throws his own mobile suit into action. As the Quin Mantha takes off, it releases its numerous funnels, the remote weapons almost blocking the suit from Charlie’s view despite its size. They begin firing almost immediately, as the Quin makes slight adjustments to keep the majority of his weapons between him and his opponent.

The Jack of Diamonds will have nothing of it. Within his mobile trace system, Charlie throws forward his hands, using the powerful flamethrower his fighter possesses. Blasting forward, the burst of fire clears a path straight towards the Quin, blazing through several funnels along the way. Sensing his chance, Charlie dashes forwards, ducking and dodging to try and avoid the fire of the other funnels.

“Oh no you don’t.” Octavius continues to fire with his remote weaponry, and occasionally lets off a blast or two with his mega particle guns. All the while, he uses his thrusters to jump back and away from the Jack of Diamonds. Though the smaller suit makes up some ground, Charlie just can’t seem to close quite to melee range because of the necessity of avoiding the beam fire. Every once in a while he’ll feel a sharp sting on his shoulders, arms, or legs, indicating one of the blasts has skimmed him, but never anything particularly serious.

From Charlie’s perspective, for some reason unknown to him, the Quin stops suddenly and seems to lurch forwards slightly. He’s unsure of the reason, but never one to pass up an opportunity he attacks with all possible speed. Throwing himself recklessly towards the green monster, he slides under one shaky inaccurate funnel shot and is suddenly right within the Quin Mantha’s “wheelhouse,” as it were. Slapping his hands onto the ground, he sends the Jack of Diamonds into a handspring, propelling it feet-first straight into the well-armored chest of the Quin. The resounding satisfying collision leaves him no doubt to its efficiency.

“Yes! … Wait, what?” That’s when Charlie notices the Quin Mantha’s funnels are not only not firing at him – no surprise due to his proximity to the suit itself – but they are quickly moving to the other side of the suit. He glances quickly at his info screen and notices that two may be company, but he’s now part of a crowd.

“You coward! Attacking me in the back!” In his cockpit, Octavius is extremely upset. He has right to be. On the other side of his suit from the Jack of Diamonds, the equally-gigantic Rafflesia has wrapped his right arm in the heat tentacles from one of its petals. The chainsaws gouge out huge chunks of metal and wires, and Leighton Anderson chuckles as he swings his mobile armor around for another swipe, nearly dragging the Quin’s arm with it as it moves.

“Hey, backstabbing’s common in the corporate world – it’s not my fault you weren’t watching your rear.” The Quin Mantha is able to barely dodge backwards and avoid the second blow, nearly slipping and falling on top of the Jack of Diamonds and its stunned pilot. The Quin’s funnels begin blasting at the Rafflesia, but its anti-beam barrier absorbs the attacks with little trouble. However, aid comes from an unexpected location as the Jack in Diamonds vaults itself on top of the Quin. It lands on a shoulder, grabs a handful of the passing heat rods, and pulls them clean off their mounts. Cordova grins, but there is no humor in his eyes, and he tosses the tentacles to the ground.

“Get lost, corporate scum. This ain’t your fight.” The Gundam Fighter moves into a ready stance, and examines his opponent. In response, Leighton fires off several blasts from his beam guns, but is shocked to find them sent spiraling back towards him. Though his barrier protects him well enough, the surprise is sufficient to enable the Jack of Diamonds to kick off the ground and land an earth-shattering blow on one of his petal binders, ripping it off in its entirety. As he flips back off the armor, Charlie lands on the Quin again, and Leighton realizes that the much larger Quin Mantha must have some sort of beam deflection system as well, whose protection extends at the moment to the weird-looking diamond thingy. He pauses for a moment to consider his options, while the pilots of the Quin Mantha and the Jack of Diamonds open a direct comm. channel to discuss their next move.

Meanwhile, some distance away, a shadowy figure makes several calculations and takes careful aim. The APFSDS shells are loaded, and the environmental factors have been accounted for. He nods, then looses two shots, one slightly after the other. Now all that’s left is to sit and wait for the several seconds they will take to arrive on target.

In the Rafflesia, Leighton decides he can still take out the smaller suit with his short-range attacks and then focus on the larger mobile weapon. He’s so intent on his planning he doesn’t even notice the ‘collision detection alert’ that flashes oh-so-briefly, as if the object it is tracking is almost too small for notice. As he prepares to make his move, a warning klaxon flares in his cockpit. “Huh?” A bright flash from his left side draws his attention as yet another petal binder goes non-functional, accompanied by a large “Connection interrupted or severed, please check diagnostics” message. Instinctively, he grabs at his controls and dips the suit to the left. A second flash appears, less bright, and this time he can actually see what looks like a puncture wound in a non-vital section of his center ‘stalk’ portion, along with another damage report, this one significantly more mild.

“Screw this, I’m outta here!” Leighton is not one to stick around against overwhelming odds, and with some additional fire support the losers in front of him just might be able to take him out. “I’ll see you again,” he adds with some menace, jetting off to locales unknown.

Elsewhere, the shadowy figure allows himself a smile of satisfaction and moves out himself.

“Well, that was fun.” Breathing heavily, Charlie takes stock of the Quin Mantha, and his own suit. Both are damaged, though the Quin looks the worse for the wear. “What say we call it a…”

“For the Empire!” Slapping himself on the forehead in aggravation, Charlie watches as the Belphagor skims over the water of a nearby lake, heading straight for them. Its claws are extended and open, prepared for close-combat warfare. It screams towards the two resting suits, and both of their pilots sigh. As the Jack of Diamonds once more sets itself in a ready position, the Quin Mantha begins again controlling its funnels, which – forgotten – had for the most part fallen to the ground. Neither of them, though, is prepared for the speed at which the Belphagor crosses the remaining distance, even as its pilot – Tyr Alexander – feels the strain of the incredible force upon his body the motion causes. Dashing past the closer Quin Mantha, it spirals around the big suit and sends a claw at the mobile fighter. Tired from the battle to date, Charlie is slow to react, and the claw grabs at his leg, crushing its lower half before retracting.

“You guys have no idea what you’re up against.” Tyr grins, though he’s beginning to feel a bit less confident as he has to suppress a cough from push caused by the G-forces of the directional changes. His confidence drops even further as his suit is rocked by funnel weapon fire, slamming into him from what seems like every possible angle. Octavius has been the third wheel for much of the day’s action, and is tired of it.

“Get bent.” He unleashes a torrent of beam fire from both his mega particle guns and his funnels, and the Belphagor nearly disappears behind the waves of energy. It is a testament to the suit’s speed and agility that it emerges relatively unscathed, but one claw has been destroyed and one atomic scissor has been exposed at the knee joint. A blast from the Jack of Diamonds’ flamethrower slams the suit back once more, and critical components within the exposed knee begin to melt. Tyr curses, realizing that this is a fight in which he’s outgunned.

He won’t leave without a parting shot, though. The Belphagor’s powerful sonic smasher cannons train on the two suits standing near each other, and Tyr lets loose. The Jack of Diamonds jumps out of the way, but the Quin Mantha’s beam deflection system is unable to handle the sonic beams and Octavius is unable to maneuver fully out of the way. The tail binder is smashed to bits, which only serves to anger the pilot. However, his return salvo misses its mark as the Belphagor, too, takes to the sky in order to return from whence it came. Octavius slaps at his comm. “Weird day, George.”

Catching himself, Charlie recognizes the name he provided, and nods. He’s too tired to do anything else.

Outcome: Jack of Diamonds and Quin Mantha and Unknown win, Rafflesia and Belphagor lose
Jack of Diamond: 2 days damage
Quin Mantha: 3 days damage
Rafflesia: 3 days damage
Belphagor: 2 days damage
Hidolfr: Ok

___________________________________________________________________________
Stargazer versus Nu
By: Trent

“Weapons calibrated. We’re not well armed, but she’s a fast suit – hard to believe you scored her in a game of tick-tac-to.”

CT Weaver cocked his head slightly down. A moment would pass before recognition of words spoken played on his face. For a beat or two, he just peered at the eccentric mass of tangled cords sitting one seat below his own. They were a thread he’d never seen before; this unknown entity seemed bound to the Holistic Gundam. Perhaps She channeled the gunner’s essence through Her all-collector, and he existed here and nowhere else.

“Yes,” CT replied with a kind smile, suggesting he hadn’t heard all the words, yet wished to remain polite to his new companion.

Brown gloved hands flipped through Stargazer’s startup sequence; beside the pilot, lights and indicators flared to life. Buzzing energy surrounded the cockpit. Outside, the white mobile suit stood from a kneeling position and lifted into the air. Dust spread out beneath its wake; the machine itself moved up like a puppet on strings, lower body and arms still limp as it very slowly rose in a diagonal vertical.

The Australian outback played host to a dozen ruined colonies, their dead metal husks sticking up from the middle of vast craters like obelisks erected to commemorate the sins of all mankind. Against the backdrop of one of these twisted towers, Stargazer’s white-haloed body resembled an angel come to do battle amidst the underworld’s final depths. A challenger soon arrived, but it resembled little a demon.

Nu strode confidently forward, the mobile suit and its pilot carrying themselves as a beacon of inspiration and strength. Were lesser soldiers to look up its heroic visage, the legend surrounding this Gundam would surely inspire them to challenge any foe. Inside, Makoto Nagano held his jaw strong though friendly when he asked for introduction: “CT Weaver of the Gundam Stargazer?”

As when questioned by his gunner, CT didn’t at first respond. The newly-arrived thread held a power much like his previous engagement. Its green halo flooded outwards from the large man-construct it mounted. Again, CT gave a curt smile and replied, “Yes.”

Makoto heard the soft-spoken word with his ears, but also felt a slight tremor in the psycowave patterns resonating around his cockpit. The psycoframe didn’t appreciate this man’s presence. Best to proceed with their encounter quickly. “Good to meet you. My name is Makoto Nagano of Orb – shall we proceed as planned?”

“… Yes.”

Stargazer drew its beam pistol and juked sharply left, firing a quick burst that would catch most pilots off guard. Yet Makoto’s Newtype reflexes sent him into action; pushing hard on his control orbs, Nu skirted right as the air beside its head fizzled with intense yellow mega particles. The Gundam returned fire with its vulcans, ringing out a succession that trapped Stargazer in a shower of nigh-harmless ballistics.

CT heard each round slam against his armor. The chaotic noise soothed his mind, and his hands worked overtime on the piloting controls. Stargazer became a feverish ballerina. Its visage artifacted, blurring as it spun madly like an out-of-control top.

“Where the hell?” Makoto lost track of his foe via eyesight, and instead opened his mind. “Behind me?”

This time Stargazer didn’t miss. Its beam pistol tagged the Nu’s fin funnels and turned them into six smoldering spikes. “Well, damn.” Makoto hit his verniers and leapt into the air, Nu climbing at an incredible rate as he loosed two missiles from its rear binder. The warheads’ hot exhaust traced the Gundam’s path higher into the sky, as they descended into the ground beneath Stargazer. A mighty plume of dirt, flame and basalt ash flung up and shrouded the suit’s position – as well as its cameras.

Now high in the sky, Nu spun around. Makoto tracked his enemy with preternatural senses. Obtaining a targeting resolution without any assistance from computers, Nu fired its beam rifle. The mega particles speared downward; they impacted Stargazer’s position, but did nothing against the invisible sphere of energy that emitted from twin beam shields. The mobile suit was effectively immune to beam weaponry.

Makoto knew he had to adjust tactics. Nu turned for the colony, flying through the cylinder’s splayed top and diving into the structure’s dark bowels. Stargazer gave pursuit, CT using his own strange sense of awareness to follow Nu’s unmistakable green flood.

Five minutes passed. Waiting inside a giant corridor, his position totally masked by darkness, Nagano closed his eyes and concentrated on an approaching pressure. Slowly, methodically the Stargazer proceeded down the hallway, its presence preceded by loud clanks as feet met metal. Finally, the white machine’s bright eyes appeared in the distance.

Nu ignited its powerful beam sword.

Stargazer wrapped itself in an orbiting glow of eight green rings. Simultaneously, it lifted off the ground, hovering an equal distance away from walls, the floor, and the ceiling of the corridor. Its field was too large; the rotating rings gouged continuous holes in the bulkheads, illuminating their surroundings like continuous lighting strikes.

Again, without any distinctive movements from its limp figure, the Stargazer charged forward. It was a lifeless marionette, driven by gravity. The mobile suit was surrounded by a rain shower of sparks, burning wicked scars into its once-beautiful exterior.

Nu could do little but return the advance. It jumped, thrusters catching the suit’s mighty weight before it fell back down, and then propelling it forward. Blue contrails smoked from its verniers; the Nu’s beam sword was held back and to the side, ready to spear forward when it came in melee range of Stargazer.

Sweat dampened Makoto’s head. Seeing the whirling wheel of death ahead, he knew only one chance existed. Vulcans again bled annoyances at the Stargazer. They were meant as distraction, but those rounds that made it past the powerful green rings didn’t deter his enemy’s advance. In a split second, the Nu and Stargazer would clash.

Then Stargazer fell silent. The green aura of its rings disappeared. Nu’s sword sled easily past the now-dispersed globe, slicing straight into CT Weaver’s suit’s depleted battery. The defeated unit fell to its knees beneath Makoto’s feet.

The duel had ended. The battle was won.

“I’m sorry, CT. Perhaps next time.” It wasn’t Makoto who offered the consolation.

It was only then that CT recognized who the gunner was. He smiled at his Holistic Gundam, its ideal realized before him: “Yes.”

Outcome: Nu wins, Stargazer loses
Nu: 2 days damage
Stargazer: 2 (1) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Hildolfr ambushes Freedom
By: Perfect Zeong

“Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored…” In the distance, a volcanic mountain range provided backdrop to a rather scenic vista overlooking a series of densely-wooded valleys and a few canyons. “So very, very bored…” Near the top of one ridge, a fellow of rather short stature sat on a tree branch, a pair of binoculars in one hand and the other steadying himself against the trunk. “I wonder if you can die from boredom…” Messaoud Naceri said aloud, desperately hoping for a bit of excitement.

Previously, he had had no shortage of targets to potshot from the safety of a considerable range, but today the sun was beginning to set and still nothing had appeared viable to him. “Maybe I should move a little closer to that base…” Messaoud frowned and began preparing to descend the tree again. As he examined the next lowest branch, an aerial speck of movement caught his peripheral vision. Sparing no time, Messaoud quickly straddled the branch and put the binoculars to his eyes, focusing in on the flying object. “A mobile suit! Score!” he proclaimed. Quickly tossing the binoculars’ strap around his neck, Messaoud descended the tree with utmost speed. Beneath him, his beloved archaeological find was parked neatly hidden under camouflage netting, its barrel pointing towards the far-off ridges. Slipping into the cockpit with ease, Messaoud began powering up his mobile tank.

Elsewhere, James M. Elredge continued looking for a spot to land. Opting to preserve as much fuel as possible for the coming activities, James had been “hopping” his Freedom Gundam from ridge to ridge, mesa to mesa, and so forth, as he delved further into the mountainous area. It didn’t take long for him to quickly plot out an angle-of-attack, and began adjusting his descent to land on a prominent hill. The Freedom touched down flawlessly.

“Hm, the thirty-second perfect landing of the day,” James complimented himself, then began quickly searching for the next suitable altitude to aim at. The mountains were getting rather close now; he expected he would be there by morning tomorrow.
Several miles away, Messaoud was lining up the now-grounded mobile suit in his reticule.

“Hmm… looks like a Gundam-type,” he mentioned to no-one in particular. “Better be a little more careful with this one. Loading APFSDS, adjust four degrees up to compensate for MOA and windage…” Messaoud quickly looked over a few more indicators, including wind speed and a readout from his rangefinder, before zeroing in on the target.

Back in the Freedom, James had now plotted out his next “hop” which would take him across the two closest valleys. Just before activating his boosters again, a tiny, almost unnoticeable blip of light a few ridges away caught his eye. A moment of terror crossed his mind, and James’ fist promptly slammed down on the switch that activated his mobile suit’s Phase Shift armor. Fortuitously for him, he had reacted quickly enough; the tungsten dart crumpled harmlessly against the Freedom’s waist. The force of impact alone, however, was nearly sufficient to knock the mobile suit over like a domino; James quickly responded with some neat footwork, keeping him upright.

“A sniper!” he proclaimed, and began quickly scanning the horizon in the general direction he saw the blip.

“What the… it bounced off?!” Messaoud was baffled. “Okay, so the torso is well armored… next round!” Messaoud adjusted his crosshairs ever so slightly, moving the Freedom’s knee into the center. The Hildolfr’s autoloader rammed a new shell into its breech, and a thunderous blast issued from the weapon’s muzzle as he fired again.

“Ah hah!” James exclaimed, having spotted the flash again. Drawing his beam rifle, he began taking precise aim at the exact origin of the first attack when the second firmly connected with his mobile suit’s leg. Again, the Phase Shift armor stopped the sabot from penetrating, but the blow knocked the Freedom’s leg out from under it. James cursed as he felt himself falling, firing the Freedom’s boosters to regain footing.

“What is that thing made of?!” Messaoud demanded, now thoroughly irritated. “Fine! Let’s see you shrug off this!” His reticule zoomed in on the Freedom’s head, and fired a third shot. Concluding that he was at a sharp disadvantage by remaining on the ground, James set his boosters to maximum thrust and took flight; a third dart zipped under him, annihilating a tree some miles behind.

“Sorry, buddy, I am NOT just going to stand there and get shot all day,” James stated, deploying his plasma cannons and taking aim at the trees. Though he was now airborne and moving at a considerable speed, he was confident that his aim had not faltered. James squeezed off a shot from his beam rifle and followed up with his plasma cannons, then eagerly waited for an explosion from his quarry.

Messaoud yelled something incomprehensible and reflexively threw his arms up to protect his head from the overhead assault. Both shots from the Freedom’s plasma cannons went wide, but the beam rifle found its target, scoring a direct hit on the Hildolfr’s autoloader. A buzzing alarm and flashing red text alerted Messaoud to the damage, as well as a possibility of an internal ammunition explosion in the Hildolfr’s magazine. Not wanting to be done in by his own shells, Messaoud quickly pulled down the magazine jettison lever, which blew the Hildolfr’s autoloader and shells clear from the back of the tank. This spared him any further damage, but left his main gun without any ammunition.

“Damn, what a shot!” he proclaimed. Assessing his options, he found his machine guns likely wouldn’t be at all useful against a mobile suit that had so easily survived his main gun. Instead, he grabbed his radio handset and hoped for the best. “Uhh… hey, there! I thought you were a bad guy! No hard feelings, right?” he sheepishly asked on an open channel.

James received the transmission and was dumbstruck. A “bad guy”?! he thought.

“What?! Who the hell do you think you are, shooting at me like that!” James demanded back. “Amateur!” he added. The Freedom landed nearby, leveling its beam rifle into the trees. He could barely make out the outline of the Hildolfr under its camouflage netting, but he was confident he would not miss at this range.

“Um, well, that is to say, er…” Messaoud stammered for an excuse. “QUICK! LOOK AT THAT!” He fiercely depressed the button activating his smoke dischargers.

“Oh, like I’d fall for-” James was cut off as a massive cloud of pink smoke spread out from the Hildolfr’s position, promptly obscuring his vision. “…a smoke bomb?” he asked aloud, visibly irritated by the childish tactic levied against him. However, no sooner had he begun firing his jets to help dissipate the cover did he discover that the Hildolfr was nowhere to be seen, simply leaving an abandoned camouflage net behind it. Confounded and infuriated, James decided further pursuit would be a waste of his time and began re-planning his somewhat delayed travel.

Outcome: Freedom wins, Hildolfr loses
Freedom: No damage
Hildolfr: 1 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
SUMO versus Astray Out Frame
By: Victory 2

“Just a friendly practice match, right?” Simão Gomes rubs his hands along his damaged legs, squeezing them and feeling the slight pain. Pain is good. Pain means life, as opposed to the horrid nothingness of his paralysis. He looks out from his slightly-modified cockpit seat, through his viewscreen, at his opponent for the day. Serj Odadijan simply nods his Astray Out Frame’s head to indicate his readiness, totally prepared to begin the battle. Today his suit is equipped with the Aile Striker pack, and its eyes glow momentarily as he brings all systems online. The two mobile suits stand ready in a sizable forest, with numerous clearings surrounded by thick groupings of foliage.

The SUMO begins the fight, moving quickly into melee range. Grabbing its heat fan, the short unit takes several swipes at the Out Frame, looking to disable it quickly. However, Serj uses the maneuverability added by the Aile Striker pack to jet quickly out of reach. Hovering several dozen meters above the ground, the Out Frame takes careful aim with its beam rifle and fires. Simão quickly engages his IF-Field barrier, though, and the powerful system easily protects him from the attack. In response, he lets loose with a pair of shots from his own beam gun. Serj grabs a heat sign and thumbs it on, the sign’s shield-like function blocking the second shot. However, the first attack was able to get by before he could defend himself, and it slams into his shoulder and forces him back.

“Looks like we do this close-in, huh?” Serj shrugs, and replaces his rifle with his other heat sign, wielding the two together. One he switches into beam saber mode. The other, though, he extends into a whip-like shape, snapping it once experimentally. He nods, and jets his suit towards the waiting SUMO. Simão has the wisdom of his years, and waits expectantly, willing to be patient and spot his opening. As the Out Frame rushes in, he sends his suit straight up, forcing his opponent to chase after him.

Over the next several minutes, a pattern emerges. The Out Frame looks to use its whip-like beam sign from a distance, and when the SUMO dodges the attack, it closes and tries to swipe at it with the beam saber. Though the suit is quite fast, the SUMO matches it in speed and maneuverability, and Simão is quite skilled at using its near-Gundam Fighter abilities to handily redirect some thrusts, while throwing himself out of the reach of others. The two weave in and out between clearings of trees, altering altitudes as they go. They leave a swath of destruction behind them, mostly from the whip-like sign’s attacks. Finally, on the ground in one particularly open area, the Out Frame overreaches on one thrust, and the SUMO takes advantage.

Drawing on his skills as a former Capoeira fighter, Simão spins his suit in a dizzying motion, turning it onto its back and scything out the legs of the Out Frame with a pair of kicks. The larger suit goes down hard, and the already-damaged shoulder sparks. Warning klaxons blare in Serj’s cockpit as he struggles to right himself before the SUMO can finish the fight in one blow. It nearly happens just that way, as Simão flips himself over, jumps into the air, and angles to bring his knee straight into the upper chest of the Out Frame. However, he had not accounted for the Aile Striker pack’s atmospheric flight capabilities, and the Out Frame scoots out from beneath him. As the SUMO lands, the tail of the ‘whip’ comes lashing at it, aiming to decapitate the suit.

Throwing its hands up in a desperation motion, the SUMO tries to keep from losing its head. Simão curses as his suit’s right arm is removed at the elbow joint, but he manages to avoid losing the battle outright. In angry retaliation, he grabs quickly at his beam gun and lets loose with several more blasts. Serj had thought the fight won, so is unprepared for the assault and cannot get his signs into a defensive position in time to block the shots. A trio take his suit in the flank, thigh, and leg, spinning him backwards.

Both pilots take a moment to assess the damage, and face off. Simão grabs his heat fan, moving the SUMO into an idiosyncratic hopping motion back and forth on its feet, preparing for a final assault. His face is calm, but a slight sheen of perspiration glistens on his forehead from the exertion – he is not as young as he used to be. Serj switches both heat signs into beam saber mode and starts forward, a slight snarl on his lips. The pair pause just for a moment, and a gust of wind swirls leaves about their feat in a coincidentally-theatrical fashion.

Wordlessly, the Out Frame begins the attack, moving forward just above the ground at high speed. The SUMO runs along the ground and the two close upon one another quickly. Right before the moment of contact, though, Simão’s lips twitch almost into a smile, and his hands fly across the controls as speedily as his legs once used to move. The SUMO flips acrobatically into the air, spinning over its shoulder. Surj tries to compensate but his forward momentum is too great, and he can only flail wildly at the spinning suit as it passes in front of him, up, and over the Out Frame’s head. The SUMO stabs down with its one good hand, raking the heat fan across the joints where the hardpoint connects the Out Frame to its Aile Striker pack, ripping a huge gouge along the metal and causing the pack to partially disconnect, then explode.

The blast throws the SUMO back and away, against a patch of trees, where it rests for nearly a minute. The fireball had been unexpected, and had further damaged the SUMO’s frame, though not beyond movement capability. Simão finally clears the cobwebs from his head and walk over to examine his foe. The Out Frame is incapacitated, face down on the ground, and its pilot lies unconscious in his cockpit from the concussive force of the detonation. Grabbing his downed compatriot, Simão begins to trudge back towards civilization, while the burning forest behind him serves as a reminder of these suits’ great destructive power.

Outcome: SUMO wins, Astray Out Frame loses
SUMO: 2 days damage
Astray Out Frame: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Crossbone X-3 versus Providence
By: Perfect Zeong

- North Africa -

Having flown in from a local Annapolis branch office earlier, Dreyson C. Bly observed his handiwork from his heavyset-looking Providence Gundam. Twenty-odd enormous wooden targets of two-dimensional mass-produced Leo mobile suits stuck out of the ground like lawn darts, surrounding him on all sides. As he learned from the Annapolis supply manager earlier, the Leo was the industry-standard fare for “grunt” applications, and Dreyson felt he would be well served in getting accustomed to viewing them as targets. After all, his services could be needed somewhere any day now.

Standing in the middle of them and setting aside his enormous beam rifle, Dreyson began focusing on his conscious thought processes on the DRAGOONs attached to his mobile suit’s back. The computer responded, illuminating the Leo cutouts with individual target reticules on his monitors. The three large remote pods detached and began hovering under their own power. Willing them to annihilate his wooden enemies, the DRAGOONs let off a fusillade of beams, tearing half the targets to bits almost instantly. As the three returned under their own power, Dreyson detached the smaller, more maneuverable units and responded in kind by blasting the remainder of the training targets into splinters. A single Leo remained, which Dreyson dispatched with a quick shot from his shield-mounted weapon. The DRAGOON system recalled the remotes automatically; Dreyson pulled back his sleeve and examined a high-quality watch.

“Hmm… three and a half seconds better this time,” he noted. “Still need to be faster.” He retrieved his beam rifle and began powering up his boosters when a curious shadow fell over his mobile suit. He was aware of a rocky outcropping behind him, but was almost certain it was far too early for the sun to be going down. As he turned to investigate the cause of the shade, he saw what looked like a lump of fabric gently swaying in the dry air.

“Well, hello there,” a rather laid back voice stated. “Are paper targets ‘all the rage’ these days for you Company-men?”

“…who wants to know?” Dreyson muttered.

“Jean Maréchal, at your service,” he stated, extending an arm of his mobile suit out from behind its cloak and taking a minor bow.

“That’s nice. Go away,” Dreyson flatly remarked, unimpressed.

“Not the talkative type, are we? Fine,” Jean conceded. “I’ll wager you couldn’t hit a moving target with those things worth a damn.”

“Hmph,” Dreyson grunted. “You doubt my Providence?”

“Much as I doubt your strength of character! Ha ha!” Jean pronounced.

With a face full of scowl, Dreyson decided he’d had enough of the flamboyant interloper bothering him, and without a word accepted Jean’s challenge by opening fire with his massive beam rifle. The outcropping exploded as the Judicium tore through it; Jean neatly propelled his mobile suit into the air, aiming to land behind Dreyson. "It’s fast!" Dreyson thought, taking several additional shots as the cloaked mobile suit sailed through the air. Two scored direct hits, but somehow did not do much more than burn holes in the cloak itself. Dreyson boosted up a nearby dune as Jean gracefully touched down only meters from where he’d been a moment earlier.

“Anti-beam coating?” Dreyson inquired.

“You catch on pretty quick,” Jean said with a bit of a snobbish tone. “That won’t save you, though! En garde!” He proclaimed, drawing an enormous semi-solid beam sword. Well, so much for close combat… Dreyson noted, immediately backpedaling as the Crossbone X-3 rocketed towards him. A battery of machine guns in the skull-chested mobile suit opened fire, pinging harmlessly off Dreyson’s Phase Shift armor.

“So you’re faster than I am! Is that toy the best you’ve got?” Dreyson said, releasing all his DRAGOON units simultaneously. The massive barrage of beam projectiles further nibbled away at the mobile suit’s beam-retardant cloak, but with Dreyson having to focus on maneuvering as well as targeting, most of his shots missed considerably, doing more damage to the sand than anything else. Jean was able to swat two DRAGOONs out of the air with his behemoth beam sword, but it cost him significantly in closing the distance with the gray Gundam. Jean and Dreyson exchanged machine gun fire again with little effect on each other’s machines; however, Dreyson was pleased to see that the cloak held up none-to-well to conventional ballistics. The cloak in tatters, the Crossbone X-3 could be made out much more clearly, and Dreyson did not like what he saw – even more swords and various melee implements riddled its body.

“Relying on that stupid cloak is going to cost you severely,” Dreyson remarked, abruptly changing directions and letting off two more shots with his beam rifle. The first took the remainder of the cloak off completely; the shredded remains remained airborne for a few moments before settling to the ground. The second, seemingly on a collision course with the X-3’s head, suddenly ablated into nothing just a meter from contact.

“Beam barrier?!” Dreyson demanded, both confused and infuriated.

“You didn’t really think that was my only defense, did you?” Jean smirked, pulverizing fully half of Providence’s remaining DRAGOONs before lopping off the barrel of its beam rifle. Throwing the now-useless weapon aside, Dreyson grimly ignited his shield-mounted beam saber and decided to take a gamble. Two DRAGOONs snapped back onto his mobile suit to refuel, while the remainder continued firing wildly at the X-3’s back and sides; their shots ricocheted harmlessly off an invisible I-field barrier. Jean brought his massive weapon down on the Providence, Dreyson blocking with his own. The two weapons crackled as excess plasma escaped, ionized the air around them. Purely on the Providence’s much heavier weight, Dreyson was able to push Jean back away, but it was a brief respite at the most.

“Didn’t think you’d actually have a sword on there… let’s try this, why don’t we!” Jean bragged, intentionally rerouting extra power to his muramasa. Electricity played over the X-3’s arm as its capacitors were taxed to the limit, and the blade grew even larger than it already was. Dreyson fired off a single blast from both of his shield-mounted guns before the enormous plasmoid blade crashed onto him. Even as the X-3’s sword cleaved through the Providence’s shield, arm, shoulder and part of his DRAGOON backpack like a well-honed razor, Dreyson saw an opportunity: his final shot had not been deflected, searing the paint off the X-3’s side.

“I see,” Dreyson noted. “I just have to outlast you!”

“What?” Jean demanded. As he did, his eyes drifted to a small warning indicator on the bottom of his HUD:

CAUTION: I-FIELD BARRIERS NOW IN COOL-DOWN MODE

“…shit,” he flatly said. Dreyson’s handful of remaining DRAGOONs opened fire simultaneously, annihilating the Crossbone’s signature X-shaped binders, parts of its head features, shoulder armor and nearly taking off one of its legs. “I’m not finished yet, you-!” Jean began preparing for another cleave, but Dreyson was not about to let him have the upper hand. Providence’s fist slammed into the side of the X-3’s head. Providence’s far greater weight translated into a massive blow that nearly knocked the X-3’s head completely off. It crumpled like an aluminum can. For a moment, both mobile suits remained motionless.

“I believe I won the ‘bet’,” Dreyson bluntly said.

Outcome: Providence wins, Crossbone X-3 loses
Providence: 2 days damage
Crossbone X-3: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Perfect Zeong versus Sazabi
By: Trent

Two mobile weapons related by a common legend stood proud along the shores of a tranquil mountain river. Reflected in its babbling waters, both suits were sights to behold. One fluctuating visage peered through its glowing green mono-eye, the camera set within a head of dark blackness that belied its “once-upon-a-time” ties to The Red Comet. Staring back, Perfect Zeong also lacked Char Aznable’s traditional colors – its grey and blue frame a spiritual grandfather to the other mobile suit. Neither pilot knew the man’s name (or aliases) who once sat in their positions; they, did, however, know each other.

“Wade Warren, top graduate from Annapolis Academy. Third in Class of Annapolis Executive Training. Perhaps most importantly, son of famed Company Man John Warren. I’m not often impressed…” Vladimir Antonov’s voice trailed off.

“… and?”

“Oh, I didn’t say anything else.” Antonov gave a cocky smile, and saluted his fellow Annapolis employee before cutting off the transmission. Cow-towing to famous children wasn’t his duty.

Warren cocked an eyebrow, but the cool-headed pilot didn’t let Antonov’s words bother him. There was time enough to worry in his dreams. Lately, his sleeping hours were more-often filled by nightmares. Here, in the cockpit, fulfilling his company duty, he could let his mind rest and expand.

Sazabi began, all six of its blue funnels “popping” off their racks. The short cylinders rotated centrically as their back ends opened to reveal meager thrusters and stabilizing fins, and the front ends produced tiny barrels. All half-dozen hovered around the black suit, tiny familiars to the wicked-looking unit.

“Pmph,” Vladimir shrugged off the display of Newtype prowess – he was no Natural-born himself. “Unimpressive!” Perfect Zeong lit up like Hong Kong. Arms stretched forward; fingertips glowed a magnificent gold and loosed ten parallel streams of deadly light at his close-by foe. It was all Sazabi could do to dodge, even with its psycoframe. The mega particles carried onward, skimming their intended target’s now-airborne feet before impacting with the river at a nearby bend, boiling the water on contact.

Sazabi replied with funnels. The agile remote weapons darted out to surround Zeong. Vladimir took aim with his torso-mounted cannons, arching his machine’s chest upwards and letting the powerful beam streams engulf two of their number. The other four were instantly out of range, letting out quadruple pink lances. One shot gouged the Zeong’s shoulder; two more barely missed; a third removed one of its signature antlers.

Sirens blared just seconds after Vladimir’s own Newtype senses warned him of a descending Sazabi. Wade’s black mobile weapon fell hard, its entire weight lending to a downward slash from its saber-set beam tomahawk. Before he connected, however, the Sazabi found itself on the receiving end of a rocket punch.

Zeong’s left arm blasted off its mount, connecting with its foe’s head and crumbling the main camera. Inside, glass shards came flying at Warren’s linear seat. He momentarily ceased controlling the funnels; arms and hands went to defend his face, and were consequently punctured by dozens of glimmering spikes. One piece of glass was particularly thick, and drew a steady stream of crimson from his shoulder.

“Take that!” Vlad spat. He allowed the detached limb to fall into the river with a splash, turning his remaining hand’s attentions to the now-motionless funnels. They hovered in mid-flight, vulnerable without a master. One died, then another. Before the third could fall, the remaining two were withdrawn into Sazabi’s racks.

Wade was back in control. Despite the pilot’s calm demeanor, his black demon glowered at the opposition. Energy collected around its abdomen, then spat out as an incredible pulsating mass. Perfect Zeong jumped to the side, but still lost its remaining arm. Vlad considered recalling the other from its watery resting place, but didn’t have time – Sazabi was on the charge, taking several fluid swats with the beam tomahawk. Wade pressed his advantage, never letting the backpedaling Zeong get a firing angle with any three of its cannons. Up jab, down cut, horizontal slash; on the last blow he managed to snip the wire connecting the suit to its water-logged arm.

“Now hold on!” Vlad opened up the COMM. No response. “NOW HOLD ON!” he shouted.

Wade huffed, “What?” Sazabi held its saber strokes, but kept the blade situated very close to the enemy’s chest.

Vlad popped up on a portion of Warren’s panoramic monitor, smiling diplomatically. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat, gloved hand pushing back a loose strand of colorless hair over his shoulder. “We’re both men here,” the word ‘men’ was spoken with an unusual emphasis. “Surely you can agree it serves both our interests better if I’m allowed to regroup? Hmm? This is, after all, a training duel. How much training can you get from a defenseless enemy?”

“Give it up, Antonov. This battle is mine.”

Absolute anger glared over the screen. Even the famed “Bodhi” was a little taken aback.

“Have it your way.”

It was Warren’s turn to get a Newtype “ping.” Suddenly Zeong’s skirt armor became awash with thrust; numerous, powerful verniers flooded the vicinity with heat. Both suits’ legs were seared, but for the Zeong, that was largely inconsequential. Its monolithic body lifted off into the sky, mouth-mounted mega particle gun belching out a perfectly-aimed shot that relieved Sazabi if its right shoulder.

“Dammit,” Wade spat under his breath. Sazabi’s own thrusters struggled to produce enough lift to carry it rearward. It just barely managed, but ended up crashing down on its back a short distance away. By no means was he finished, though. The psycoframe picked up on Bodhi’s stress; it fed his remaining two funnels, now fully charged and zipping straight up for Zeong’s aerial position.

None of Vlad’s remaining cannons could target quickly enough to tag the small, fast moving bogies. Their minute barrels brimmed with green energy, aimed straight for Zeong’s cockpit.

“I give!” Vlad conceded. “You win! D—don’t fire!”

Wade removed his “finger” from the mental trigger, eyes wide with personal disgust. “I—I’m sorry.” His apologetic lips tasted salty sweat. “I don’t know what happened.”

Vlad knew biting his tongue was the difference between life and death. Rather than offering a congratulations or condemnation, he turned Zeong around and fled as quickly as possible.

Alone in the Sazabi, the son of John Warren was left to consider exactly how far his nightmares were edging in on reality.

Outcome: Sazabi wins, Perfect Zeong loses
Sazabi: 2 days damage
Perfect Zeong: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Meeteing with Shadow
By: Trent

The skies around base Altara existed in a perpetual, shadowy umbra. Smoke rose from Mount St. Helens and polluted the entire region. No sunlight, nor grace of God, had entered this forsaken wasteland for centuries – perhaps even millennia. Then suddenly the black heavens parted. For an instant – and only an instant – moonlight speared down through thick smoke.

Carried on this illumination was a pulse of energy that could devastate colonies. In the form of a microwave, enough power to topple base Altara was caught in Double X’s golden radiator fins. Already, Lance Mithaniel used the G-Controller to guide his targeting reticule onto the mountainside. By power of magnification, he could easily make out the command platform that held one tower and three hangars.

Squinting, Lance readied to fire.

“What are you doing!?” an outraged, condescending voice belted over the COMM. “Are you an idiot!?”

“Excuse me?” the Double X’s pilot let his fingers leave the trigger. A red light blinked on his command console, requesting he allow an open-video frequency. Lance accepted.

Peering from within a full-helmeted flight suit, James Matthew Eldredge’s exact expression couldn’t be determined. But his arrogant, frustrated tone made obvious his emotions. “Honestly, I don’t know why I even bothered to contact you. Growing up in Drake’s Legacy, and you still don’t know the man I’m looking for? And now you’re about to get both of us killed!”

“What?” Lance wasn’t following. From his perspective, he was about to end this quick and painlessly for all parties involved. Altara got a merciful death, he got lots of credits, and James could collect all the leftovers for whatever technophile crap he wanted. “I pull the trigger, the base goes up in flames, we call it a happy day.”

“No…” James’s disdain extended the word a few seconds longer than necessary. “You pull the trigger, big cannon sets off a reaction in the volcano, this seismically unstable region feels the chain reaction, and we both die amidst a hundred geysers of lava. Comprehend?”

“Oh…”

“Oh? Oh!? That's all you have to say? Don’t talk to me anymore.”

“But you contacted me…?”

James’s face disappeared from the Double X’s viewscreen, replaced once again by base Altara sitting magnified in its sights. Yet something was different this time. Explosions were illuminating the platform. Lance opened up the COMM again, but got no response. “Crap… what an ass,” he muttered. Hoping his actions would speak louder than words, Lance powered up thrusters and kicked it at full power straight for the volcanic installation.

Little did either Lance or James know, Raelin Kiley Alexander had already surmounted the mighty climb to base Altara. She had used the region’s darkness as mask, and when Spiegel found its way into the installation’s compound, none of the personnel were ready. The mobile fighter dug its namesake blades into both a missile turret and laser emplacement before mobile suits managed to launch a response.

“Haha!” her excitement nearly came out as a squeal. Confidence set into the beautiful, deadly blonde’s face. She concentrated on all her training, and launched the Spiegel directly into a mob of now-operational Leos.

Meanwhile, Freedom and Double X made haste towards Altara. Before either got close, sensors blared a warning of danger. Surely enough, two Taurus in mobile armor modes were moving on an intercept course for the duo.

“I’m more maneuverable than you in the air,” James commanded. “You go on ahead, I’ll handle the flight defenses.”

Used to taking orders from Drake’s Legacy superiors, Lance didn’t offer resistance. The Double X dropped several dozen meters down in the sky, letting both Taurus fly over its head and conjoin on Freedom. Behind him, Mithaniel saw the enemy units open fire on his comrade, shots barely singing their target.

Meanwhile, Raelin found herself surrounded by a full squadron of Leos. Two held doberguns, and another seven trained machineguns at her dark mobile fighter. Tracer rounds drummed out of the rifles, all aimed straight for her. Spiegel back-flipped high over the attacks, throwing messergranz down at its enemies. While the barrage failed to put down any targets, the blunt trauma of getting pierced by giant knives did stop some of the Leos from continuing to fire. However, the two which mounted doberguns took aim at their airborne enemy. Twin barrels exploded with power, and shells careened straight into the Gundam’s stomach. Kiley was propelled even higher into the sky, where missiles from the remaining turret converged on her position. A magnificent ball of fire and smoke completely shrouded the Spiegel. When it dissipated, the suit was nowhere to be seen.

Seeing his fellow Legacy member seemingly obliterated, a heaviness cast over Lance’s heart. Fury echoed in his eyes. Double X shot towards Altara, barrel-rolling to avoid shots from its Tragos unit. The last remaining laser cannon managed to snip off one of his satellite system’s energy fins, but this largely superficial wound did little to deter Mithaniel. Vengeance fueled his thrusters, and the white suit ignited a hyper beam sword. Landing hard, it gutted the Tragos with an upward slash.

“Nice one!” a feminine voice congratulated. Spiegel materialized from thin air behind the Double X, and as if only half-considering her actions, Raelin threw a single well-aimed messergranz into the laser turret that had pierced Lance on his approach. “Shall we?”

Back up in the air, Freedom faced off alone against Altara’s most prevalent defensive units. The two Taurus passed James by, nearly clipping his unit, and then turned around and transformed into suit mode. Their thrusters kept them hanging in mid-air, much as the Annapolis Gundam’s Hi-Mat mode kept it stable.

“Two outdated mass-productions against my Freedom?” the idea caused James an actual chuckle. Against the yellow glass of his helmet, a reflection of the suit’s auto-target systems showed both enemies in a precarious position. Freedom’s Balaena plasma beam cannons and Xiphias rail cannons flipped forward and belted out four streams of violent energy. The Taurus moved to dodge – one was quick enough, the other couldn’t must enough thruster power in time.

Before he could fully deal with the second, a strained voice came over James’s COMM: “Help!”

Back on the platform, two minutes earlier, Double X and Spiegel stood back-to-back. Kiley again found herself in the middle of circling Leos.

“Lady Alexander, it’s an honor to fight beside you,” Lance said, discarding his beam sword and reaching onto the Double X’s backpack mount to retrieve a buster rifle.

Raelin blushed a little. She didn’t quite know how to respond. Instead, she sent the Spiegel into a forward leap, raising both bladed-arms above her head and then bringing them down in an X-arch upon a Leo. The targeted enemy sparked, and then divided into four different halves before exploding in her face.

Double X loosed a barrage from its mounted ballistic cannons, catching another Leo with the unforgiving stream of bullets. It danced within the onslaught, unable to move as Lance aimed and fired the buster rifle. Green mega particles pierced the cockpit, and the mobile puppet fell dead.

But for the two enemies they brought down, another seven still fought. Wielding beam sabers, one group charged Spiegel all at once, bringing the pink blades down on it shoulders. Both arms fell off; Raelin kicked her way out of the mob, but could only run so far before coming to the platform’s edge.

Similarly, the two dobergun units from earlier pegged Double X. Lance was thrown forward into his monitor, head shattering glass, blood dribbling down into his eyes. Cursing beneath his breath, the proud pirate started firing wildly, blindly as he shouted, “Help!” across the communications channel.

James responded, more out of interest in saving Raelin than anything else. Freedom dodged a potshot from the Taurus, then put full power to engines and swooped down in Altara’s direction. The Gundam sped with lighting celerity, picking up the Spiegel as James shouted, “Lock onto my signal and get out of there now!”

Not needing to be told twice, Mithaniel looked at his radar and identified Freedom. Double X took to the sky immediately, Leo machinegun fire chasing away yet another attack party from Altara.

It took several minutes before any of the three pilots felt safe enough to talk. When she knew no one was giving chase, Raelin offered proper gratitude to her savior. “Thanks, Eldredge. I was sure to die if—“

“Let’s just say you owe me a favor," he cut off.

“Oh…” she replied. “And what do you want?”

“Something you Legacy sorts are pretty good at providing – information.”

Outcome: Altara remains
Freedom: 1 days damage
Double X: 2 days damage
Spiegel: 3 days damage
Altara: One laser, two Leo, one Taurus, one Tragos, one missile destroyed | Credits Lost: 875.000.c

___________________________________________________________________________
Super Noventa Cannon
By: Trent

Taxing it thrusters to maximum yield, Physalis sped quickly over a craggy, barren landscape. The ground was dried mud, and littered with rocks; slowly, but surely, it was inclining towards a distant mountain. Resting in that far away range, Babel would soon face the wrath of this nuclear mobile suit.

Above it, Hyperion Unit 1 and (with bits in formation behind) Rasveht’s impressive thrusters allowed them to soar across the firmament. Radio contact was maintained at all times, but for now, the three Annapolis pilots kept much to themselves – occupying the long journey with personal distractions.

In the Physalis, Edgar Weinglas flipped through a fashion magazine. His mind idled on a designer Av?a dinner jacket, admiring the dark violet trim.

Atra Caelium played Final Fantasy 8 on his Playboy Portable. He was quickly growing bored – something about playing an androgynous male protagonist seemed too close to his everyday adventures.

Only John Church stuck to business. His cold eyes concentrated on absorbing what little information Annapolis intelligence had managed to gather about Babel. Yet from time-to-time, even this serious soldier’s attentions migrated to a picture of Alicia and Michael wedged into the Rasveht’s front monitor.

The moment was interrupted by blaring klaxons. Church cursed, “Dammit guys. We’ve got incoming… looks like a large energy mass…” his computer struggled to make sense of the data pouring in. “Christ, this can’t be right. How large is this…?”

Atra gulped. “Should we turn back!?”

“Nah, no worries,” Edward’s voice was the calmest of his group. “Brace for impact.”

In the sky, Hyperion Unit 1 deployed its Armure Lumiere. Five arms extended from its backpack and generated a polygonal pink barrier that covered the suit entirely. “Get behind me, Church.”

Not arguing, Rasveht did just that, hiding as close as possible to the three-dimensional shield without touching its surface.

On the ground, Physalis sank to one knee and hid behind its massive shield. The Gundam’s girth fit snugly behind the barrier, which was specially designed to withstand a nuclear blast. “You ready?”

“Aye,” Atra said.

“Ditto,” John replied. He took one last look at Alicia and Michael, before peering directly at the countdown. The energy would reach them in three… two…

They never saw it coming. Suddenly their monitors were filled with absolute light. A thunderous roar overwhelmed the group. Their mobile weapons shuddered violently against an all-penetrating force. Physalis’s shield exploded, and then its thick armor crackled and splintered until the frame was exposed; Rasveht’s bits tumbled backwards, their exterior armors expanding like balloons before popping into masses of metal confetti. Hyperion held its position steady – though it was knocked around, Atra managed to keep the Gundam stable enough to continue to protect John.

Then, so soon as it began, the attack was over. Physalis fell face-forward into the ground, so crippled it couldn’t possibly continue forward. Rasveht fared little better, its armor completely charred from exposure. Only Hyperion remained without damage. Atra brought his suit down next to Edgar’s, John’s quickly following.

“Still alive, Weinglas?" John muttered, his tone full of contempt.

“Yeah,” Edgar blinked a couple times, trying to throw off the shock of his encounter. “What the hell was that?” Neither of his compatriots knew. “Well guys, I’m stuck here. You’re welcome to continue forward…”

“I don’t think so,” Atra responded. “Let’s get home and get you two repaired. We can always come back.”

Outcome: Raid cancelled
Physalis: 3 days damage
Rasveht: 2 days damage
Hyperion Unit 1: No damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Strike E versus Zanspine
By: Perfect Zeong

The velour seats of the Legacy “safe house” lounge had perfectly conformed to the dimensions of Elric Tchaikovsky’s rear. Originally, he had simply planned on passing through the dreary Scandinavian hamlet, stocking up on fuel and supplies to sustain him on his journey to parts unknown, but while waiting in the lounge as his black-and-white Strike Gundam was loaded up, an abandoned and forlorn Rubik’s Cube (technically, a six-column Professor’s Cube) caught his eye on a table. That had been several hours and several bottles of brandy earlier, and Elric’s curiosity had progressively evolved into compulsion, then obsession, and now hatred at the miserable logic puzzle that continually confounded him. As he went to pour himself yet another glass, he found the fourth bottle to be empty as well – this was just enough to snap what little remained of its patience, and the plastic cube went sailing across the lounge.

“I hope whoever invented you is burning in Hell right now!” Elric proclaimed, sulking back into his chair, arms crossed and looking patently furious. However, instead of the satisfying sound of the cube shattering into a hundred and twenty five little pieces, he was treated to a voice with a demanding tone.

“Oi you!” a female voice with a regional English dialect demanded, “What’s ya big idea flingin’ this thing at me!” Quirking an eyebrow, Elric leaned out from in front of his booth and looked over towards the lounge entrance. The lounge’s new (and aside from Elric, only) patron, an exceptionally short woman with mismatched eyes, had apparently managed to snag the flying puzzle out of the air before it would have bludgeoned her in the face.

“Oh. Sorry about that, I didn’t see you come in,” Elric apologized, remembering his pseudo-chivalry. “I’d get rid of that stupid thing before it absorbs five hours of your life as well.”

“What ah' ya, daft? This is a kids’ toy,” Dylan Bennett frowned, tossing the thing into a large potted plant. “Anyway, you the do'k who left this on Zanspine?” Dylan produced a badly mangled piece of paper from her coat, on which a few phrases and an RF code had been scribbled. Elric suddenly seemed much more pleased with his current company.

“Ah! You’re the owner of that strange mobile suit!” he beamed. “Yes, it was I. I thought you might be interested in-”

“In what? Me kicking the stuffing out of you and that ugly Gundam I saw in the blockhouse?” Dylan inquired. Elric seemed a bit taken back by her prescience; more importantly, her accent was beginning to grate on his ears.

“Why, yes, actually…” he quickly stated. “I take it you picked that up from the context of my note?”

“I’m shoe' I would’ve if your script wasn’t completely illegible, you prat,” Dylan grumbled. “I had to track you to this frozen shitehole on your radio frequency alone, and bollocks if I’m not going to get some adventure out of this endeavour!”

---

“Damn psychics! Is everyone but me one of those now?” Elric cursed, jamming another grenade into his beam rifle. He had successfully eliminated all of Dylan’s bits, but at the cost of his Noir Striker’s wings, leaving him effectively grounded. He peered out from behind the boulders he had been hiding behind, only to quickly duck back as a beam zipped over his head. Dylan’s Zanspine now had total air superiority, but was significantly outgunned at range. Both had negated the others’ preferred advantage.

“You baby! Get out from behind that pile of rocks and fight!” Dylan demanded, hovering in place with beam rifle at the ready. She too was painfully aware that she’d have to close distance and bring her beam fans to bear if she wanted to quickly disable Elric’s Gundam; her one beam rifle simply wasn’t going to cut it against the multitude of weapons Elric’s Strike E could unleash at any time.

“Baby?” Elric proclaimed. “I’ll show you “baby”! Watch this!” Taking a wild guess, he fired his rifle grenade over the top of the ridge, then fired his remaining boosters to make a jet-assisted dash to the left.

“Definitely wasn’t worth the effort…” Dylan grumbled, activating a beam shield and swatting the incoming grenade like a troublesome bug. The explosion briefly obscured her view, but not enough to hide the outline of the Strike’s engines blaring towards her. “Chump…” she said, discharging three shots from her beam rifle into the Strike’s linear flight at her. The thing exploded fantastically, producing another massive smoke cloud. For a moment, Dylan began worrying that she might have “over done” things a bit; the thought was cut short as what looked like a rocket-propelled harpoon shot out of the cloud of fire and debris, impaling the Zanspine’s thigh. Dylan was knocked about her cockpit like a ragdoll as a chain yanked the mobile suit out of the air. The unencumbered Strike E emerged from below, both hands on the chain.

“Gotcha!” Elric cheered, putting the Strike’s full weight onto the harpoon; the Zanspine unceremoniously slammed into the ground.

“You used that Striker Pack as a decoy!” Dylan growled, desperately bringing the close-range beam string emitters into a combat capable position. Having unloaded his beam rifle’s charge at the beginning of their encounter, Elric defaulted to both of the Strike E’s signature “shorty” rifles and began unloading on the downed Zanspine. Dylan protected herself with a beam shield, but the Zanspine’s legs and lower body were quickly riddled with holes.

“Ah, the triumph of the modular mobile suit! How sweet it is,” Elric beamed, tossing both shorty rifles into the air, catching them in opposite hands and resuming the barrage like nothing had happened.

“Oh shut up!” Dylan barked, firing her beam string emitters directly into her mobile suit’s other arm. Before Elric had a chance to process exactly what he was seeing, Dylan grabbed the Zanspine’s severed arm and flung it at the Strike. The beam shield, still functioning on the residual energy in the arm’s capacitors, acted like a plasma Frisbee. Elric narrowly avoided the improvised weapon taking a chunk out of his torso; the shield whizzed by, lopping off one beam rifle’s muzzle and the Strike’s opposite hand before crashing into the ground some distance behind them. Dylan leveled her remaining arm and its beam string emitters at the now essentially-unarmed Strike.

“Chopped your own arm off?” Elric mused. “And I thought I was the showman around here…” Elric dropped the nonfunctional shorty and raised his mobile suit’s arms, conceding the battle to Dylan.

“Not showmanship,” Dylan remarked, fetching her flask. “Just guts.”

Outcome: Zanspine wins, Strike E loses
Zanspine: 3 days damage
Strike E: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Gaia ambushes Maxter
By: Jack in Diamond

“Cruisin’ across the beach in my core landaah, I see the pretty ladies playin’ on the sandaah! Nobody betta try crossin’ shit with me, otherwise motherfuckaahs gonna see my Pimp Handaaaaaah! I won’t be reading no rights, you get no mirandaaaaaaah!”

Marcus Ali, a man of myth and legend, a man busting out mad beats and phat rhymes on the scene of his latest music video, “My Shining Pimp Handaah!” The shoot had gone perfectly so far; Marcus De La Ali III kept blasting away in the Maxter, a lyrical giant figuratively and literally. The Gundam-scaled sound stage had been built along the beach to accommodate the “Maxta’” as it started twirling the massive beam magnums around stringing together a long line that essentially said “I’m going to shoot you in the face.” The cool millions Marcus was slated to earn from the licensing of the song was only a drop of water in the ocean of opportunities Marcus had at his fingertips, and the way things were going, nothing could go wrong…

No less than half a mile away Xisss Blair Nikolov winced at every liberty taken by the Maxter and its pilot on the English language. Metal, Industrial – those were real types of music. She could have summed up her opinion of rap in the simple line “rap is crap.” The Gaia Gundam in its quadruped form had crouched down behind a massive oasis of palm trees, its black outline almost completely invisible to the crew filming Marcus De La Ali, even if they had thought to look behind them. Xiss grinned as she prepared for the ambush, the four legged Gundam gathering in on itself like a lion or a wolf ready to run down a lone calf.

“For crimes against the English language I condemn you to HELL!”

The Gaia launched from its cover leaving a spray of sand and a dozen ruined palm trees in its wake as it tore across the beach towards the Maxter. Marcus had time to belt a single “Oh hell no she didn’t!!” before the Gaia unleashed its ranged arsenal. The CIWS fairly glowed as they fired at full spray, the high-energy beam rifle and assault beam cannons sending a series of shots into the Maxter’s waist even as it leapt into the air to avoid the onslaught, causing it to crash into the surf. The film crew was scattered and splattered as the bullets tore through set and stagehand alike, killing the majority outright, including the video’s producer. As the distance closed to nothing Xiss maintained her manic grin, the Griffon 2 blades on the Gaia’s back energizing. Nothing was amiss as far as the reasoning for the attack, she had committed acts of violence with far less provocation. So what was a fight based on a simple disagreement in auditory taste?

Inside of the Maxter, Marcus Ali, undisputed knockout champion of the world was ready to (as one reporter named Trent Reid quaintly put it) “rape her the good” one having pulled himself back to his feet. The Maxta’ had converted from its typical mode, the shoulder armor disengaging only to re-engage on the knuckles of the Gundam Fighter giving it massive metal boxing gloves along with a myriad of smaller changes.

“BOX CUTTA STYLE!”

Flying into the air, Marcus barely avoided the first pass by the Gaia with its energy blades before diving back down on the BuCUEesque mobile weapon. The giant fists of the Maxter’s boxer mode crushed even the phase shift strengthened armor, rocking Xiss more than a little, the Gaia taking its turn in tumbling around in the salty shallows.

“Bitches don’t know about my box cutta style.” Marcus states as he strikes a pose, daring the Gaia to come back for more – something the company woman was more than willing to do. The fierce burning along Marcus’ crotch was nothing compared to some of the “love bugs” he had suffered from before, not even distracting him as he prepared for the second round of engagement.

“I think I’ve watched long enough.”

Mhus had seen enough as he launched the Akatsuki with its Owashi pack equipped. Orb had enough problems without Annapolis stirring up even more trouble. He wasn’t prone to anger, but his red eyes narrowed as he hurled the golden mobile suit towards the four-legged aggressor, his weapon systems already gaining a lock-on. The Hyakurai beam rifle fired on Gaia, even as the quadruped Gundam’s own beam rifle shot towards Maxter – both shots hit.

Marcus gasped as the mobile trace system relayed the searing heat that seemed to tear through his left shoulder, but didn’t stop moving as he rushed the Gaia dead on, his right hand winding up for a punch of almost epic proportions. Bitches didn’t know about his boxcutta style indeed as the right hook caught the Gaia along its shoulder, Xiss too rocked by the Akatsuki’s strike to dodge. The blow snapped off the left assault beam cannon located over the Gaia’s shoulder, the phase shift protected shoulder itself crumbling from the incredible impact.

“DAMNIT!”

What had started out well had quickly turned into a lopsided battle as the golden Orb suit landed behind the Gaia, leaving Xiss with the Maxter and Marcus De La Very Pissed About His Ruined Music Video on one side, and Mhus Dalahk and his Akatsuki on the other. She could feel the vein above her right eye pulsing against the skin over her forehead in an attempt to explode from the frustration. Behind the Maxter she could see the burning corpse of a film set on the beach and with a grin realized the best damage she could deal was already done, it was time to get out of dodge.

“Later boys!”

Pink-white energy lanced out from the high-energy beam rifle straight towards Marcus, but Maxter was ready this time, and avoided the spray. Spinning the Gaia around, Xiss charged directly as Mhus who had drawn his mobile suit’s beam saber. Saying nothing, he returned the charge, CIWS guns spamming the air between them as he swung for the fences with his glowing energy weapon. However, Xiss was not to be caught unawares a second time, as she ducked the much more mobile Gaia beneath the slash, the energy blades on the Gaia’s back tearing through the Akatsuki’s arm in the process.

In one fluid movement the Gaia transformed into its more traditional bipedal form before booster jumping clear across the bay, landing on the opposite beach. Neither Marcus nor Mhus really had any inclination to follow, Marcus turning back around to survey the devastated remains of his would-have-been hit video. However he was a man with a million opportunities, and there was always that wonderful resort that served those great little tiki drinks not far away.

“Thanks for the help honky! Seeya!”

Outcome: Maxter and Akatsuki win, Gaia loses
Maxter: 2 days damage
Gaia: 2 days damage
Akatsuki: 1 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Victory 2 versus Belphagor versus Xi versus Penelope versus Kshatriya versus Sisquiede
By: Perfect Zeong

- Platinum Stronghold, Central Asia -

Another re-entry pod dropped out of the clouds above the Lunar Empire’s terrestrial headquarters, the ceramic heat-ablative shield still glowing red after plowing through Earth’s atmosphere at several hundred miles-per-hour. A quartet of solid-fuel retrorockets fired, rapidly slowing the pod’s descent. Shortly thereafter, parachutes exploded out of the pod’s upper region, carrying it the rest of the way to the ground. The pod touched down just outside the Stronghold’s defense lines, where a number of Leos and a single mass-production Gundam awaited to assist in unloading of cargo and supplies.

“Fourth one today…” Guardsman Lassiter Benoit noted, leaning forward against a railing on an outdoor terrace on top of the fortress proper. He didn’t usually pry into that sort of thing; it wasn’t his business what Her Majesty was planning with regards to the sudden buildup at the headquarters. Lassiter took a long, drawn-out drag on an expensive, hand-rolled cigarette. He’d picked up the habit during his days in the Foreign Legion, and had found it difficult to stop since joining the Lunar Empire proper. The gold-leaf filters and premium Anatolian tobacco, however, were recent affectations. Still, the appearance of this many re-entry pods was gnawing on the back of his conscience. Something was up, that much was certain. Lassiter began wondering if the Empire was finally going to make their move against Orb, but his thought was cut short as a walnut bounced off the back of his head.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, quickly rubbing his head as he turned around. “Who in the hell-”

“Hey, watch your mouth,” his sister Monique said bluntly, aimlessly tossing another walnut into the air and catching it again.

“Oh,” Lassiter blinked. “Good to see you again. How’re you?”

“Decent, I suppose,” Monique remarked. “You?”

“Well I was better before someone brained me in the head with a rock, but otherwise okay,” Lassiter said, tapping the ash from his smoke.

“Not a rock. A walnut,” Monique replied, standing next to her brother and observing the cargo being offloaded from the re-entry pod. “Just about the only worthwhile thing that this miserable part of Earth creates.” She tossed the remaining nut over the edge of the building.

“You’d rather be back in Bordeaux, perhaps?” Lassiter suggested.

“Oh, but those were the days…” Monique said wistfully. “Hey, give me one of those.” Lassiter gestured at his cigarette and received an affirmative nod.

“It’s a bad habit,” Lassiter said, fetching another one out of a mahogany cigarette case from a pocket in his flowing uniform. “I didn’t know you were into these.

“I’m not,” Monique replied flatly, producing a polished brass Zippo from her own and lighting up.

---

“C’mere you runt!” Ryan Melchior shouted, swatting at the miniscule Victory 2 with his Kshatriya’s massive fists.

“Who’s a runt?” Astrophel Govannon demanded, inferring his own superior height while deftly maneuvering around the much larger mobile suit’s attacks. “Victory 2 is a gift from when I got married, and you will respect it!” Astrophel opened up with his vulcan guns, and followed up with a single shot from his beam rifle. Ryan closed Kshatryia’s binders in front of him, which absorbed the beam fire with little more than some burnt paint on account of its anti beam coating.

“I said I could defeat your little toy, and I intend to follow through,” Ryan scoffed, snapping his binders open. Mega particles began condensing around the quadruple cannons in the Kshatriya’s chest. “Eat it!” Ryan yelled as he fired the main guns. Astrophel seethed and boosted into the air, the salvo zipping under his legs and annihilating the ground some distance behind. Activating his Minovsky craft system, Astrophel suspended himself in the air and began peppering Ryan with his beam rifle. Another two blasts met their end evaporating parts of the Kshatriya’s anti beam coating, but the third scored a successful hit against a spot struck previously, blowing a hole clean through the binder. He was not so lucky as to have it strike the mobile suit’s main body as it exited, however.

“You don’t seem to be making good on that promise, my friend,” Astrophel snickered, striking a pose. “Looks like I’ve already gotten the first good hit.”

“Like that means anything,” Ryan snorted, binders opening to maximum extension. “Maybe you got the first hit, but I’ll get the last!” Fully half of Kshatryia’s funnels dropped off and took flight simultaneously, powering up their beam guns and lining up with the Victory 2. Astrophel knew he’d have to deal with Ryan’s remote weapons eventually – how to actually do that was another story entirely. Ryan pointed Kshatryia’s finger at Astrophel, and the funnels immediately took off towards him with beam guns blazing.

“You underrate me!” Astrophel proclaimed, accelerating the Minovsky craft system to maximum output and darting in the opposite direction from the Kshatriya. The sheer speed of the Victory 2 was beginning to worry Ryan; it was nearly outpacing his funnels in a straight dash, and while the Kshatriya certainly had the upper hand in firepower, the Victory 2 was not poorly armed by any stretch of the imagination. Avoiding their assaults by and large and making quick use of a beam shield to those he couldn’t, Astrophel rapidly gained a substantial distance on Ryan, then went into a sweeping turn and began coming directly back at him, losing most of the funnels as he changed directions. “Let’s see how you handle this, then!” The Victory 2’s signature ‘wings of light’ sprouted into existence, leaving a wash of ionized air behind them. Ryan ignited both beam sabers and stood fast, but he had dire worries about being able to block those deadly wings at such a high speed. He hoped for the best and struck a defensive stance, but before his fears could be confirmed or denied, a massive beam shot between him and the Victory 2.

“What?!” both pilots demanded. Astrophel immediately slammed his throttle to zero and fired his forward apogee motors, narrowly stopping before flying into the beam. As it dissipated, they caught sight of another mobile suit touching down some distance away. Curiously, the brownish weapon was facing away from them, precluding it being the source of the beam.

“Seems someone else wants to get in on this,” Ryan noted.

“I don’t recall seeing that mobile suit in the hangar…” Astrophel frowned. “Did they-”

“OH SHIT, WHAT’S THAT?!” Ryan exclaimed.

“What?!” Astrophel began scanning the area for threats. The Kshatryia’s foot connected with the Victory 2’s body at exceptionally high speed, pitching the small scale mobile suit towards the base and the mysterious new unit.

---

“Dude, calm down! I did not mean to insult the Queen or anything like that!” Deux Ysverda exclaimed, “It wasn’t even a wart, it was just a dead pixel on a monitor!”

“Even if that was not your intent, you still believed Our Royal Majesty to be capable of such flaw!” Tyr Alexander proclaimed. “For this you need, nay, CRAVE punishment!” The Belphagor’s twin claws unfolded again, making pincer-like gestures.

“We’re all on the same side here, yeah?” Deux said, rapidly recharging the Sisquiede’s mega cannon. He began eyeing a button labeled “OFFENSE MODE” with a not insignificant amount of apprehension, but decided to hold off for as long as possible. “I made a mistake, I’m sorry, can’t we move on?”

“Negative! Perhaps after I’ve savaged your disrespectful mobile suit you’ll have learned your lesson about our glorious royalty!” Tyr howled, propelling the Belphagor towards him. Oh, hell! Deux thought, letting off another blast which again was avoided. “No more of this business!” Tyr seized the Sisquiede’s combination rifle/I-field generator with a claw and flung it aside; the weapon landed muzzle first in a weathered heap of dirt from earlier construction. “And now…!” Tyr ignited the built-in beam sabers from his mobile suit’s claws, making to start chopping the Sisquiede into bits. In desperation, Deux activated the Offense Mode. Seemingly in an instant, Sisquiede drew its own beam sabers, deflected those of the Belphagor, then feinted to the right, closing most of the distance between it and the discarded launcher. Deux deactivated Offense Mode as quickly as possible; his organs and head were already aching from just a moment of its use.

“Now, look,” he winced, rubbing his temple, “We can be civil about this, can’t we?” Deux asked in his most polite voice. Tyr scoffed.

“That was a good trick, but I won’t be caught off guard again! Now, prepare for-” Tyr was abruptly cut off as the airborne Victory 2 plowed into his mobile suit, sending both of them sailing towards the base.

---

“Ouch! Was that a roundhouse kick?” Lassiter inquired, having spotted the mobile suit duel occurring beyond the base perimeter.

“Oh, and he hit that other one there like a bowling pin…” Monique noted. “I imagine that guy isn’t going to be feeling too well for a while.” The Belphagor and Victory 2 slammed headlong into a hangar on the other side of the perimeter wall, pulverizing through the corrugated steel doors.

“That one with the fat legs has got quite a gun on it,” Lassiter observed as the Sisquiede retrieved its mega launcher. “Hmm… do you think perhaps we should amble down there and have a bit of a spar ourselves?”

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded. “We’re just going to hop in our Gundams and… brawl with each other or something? Ridiculous.”

“Heh, yeah, I suppose that never actually happens,” Lassiter conceded, reaching to get another cigarette. As the thought of Gundams crossed his mind, however, he had a sudden and horrific thought.

“Wait a minute, isn’t that the hangar-” he began.

“-where our Gundams are parked?!” she finished. Their eyes met for a brief moment of realization, then both immediately began sprinting for the nearest door that would take them inside.

---

“Augh, my head!” Astrophel groaned.

“Augh, my pride!” Tyr yelled. Both of their mobile suits had poked through the steel doors like they were rice paper and lay jumbled together like discarded toys. Astrophel was especially in pain, as he’d struck a protuberance on an especially large and ugly-looking mobile suit standing upright in a maintenance bay, thoroughly denting the snout-like anatomy. Outside, the Sisquiede had recovered its beam launcher and came to investigate the damage; it was joined by the Kshatriya, having recalled his funnels. On observing his handiwork, Ryan offered Deux a crude, bastardized “respect knuckles” gesture with his mobile suit; Deux accepted, generating a few sparks on the last part.

“Are we cool now?” Deux inquired.

“Gah! Fine! I suppose I could be willing to let THIS ONE indignation slide,” Tyr grumbled, standing up. “Just this once.”

“And I guess this means I win, yes?” Ryan stated, stifling a laugh as the Victory 2 untangled itself from the Belphagor’s lanky form and claws.

“It does, but you’re also a bastard for putting a fast one in there like that,” Astrophel conceded. “Underhanded and dirty-fighting, ugh.” Suddenly, a scream of agonizing pain rocked across the hangar.

“AUGH! MY GUNDAM!” Lassiter bellowed, holding his hands on his head as he surveyed the scene from a catwalk. Monique seemed none too pleased and the notable dent in the Penelope’s body. “YOU ASSES HIT IT!” He quickly began scrambling to assess the damage to his Xi more closely, she following to do the same to the Penelope.

“Errr… oops?” Ryan offered, not exactly expecting such a situation to arise.

“Why, you…” Lassiter began fuming, about to let off a litany of curses.

“Ah hah!” Tyr triumphantly proclaimed. “I’ve got it!” The hangar looked on in anticipation of what was to come. “We shall settle our differences with a six-way trial by combat! That will surely prove whomever among us are at fault, and whoever among us is of the most knightly virtue, in the most knightly fashion!”

---

All six mobile suits stood in a circle facing inward, with about one mobile suit’s width between them. Clockwise, Penelope, Xi, Sisquiede, Belphagor, Victory 2, and Kshatriya. Simultaneously, each drew a beam saber (or in Belphagor’s case, produced one from a claw) and clashed them in the middle, forming a not-insignificant concentration of excess plasma. The sword contact was held for a moment, then withdrawn – the duel was “officially” in action. However, still, there remained no motion among the clustered units. Who would move first? Would they be set upon by all the others, or would they turn on each other? Who would go after whom? The mobile suit across the circle, or their neighbor on either side? To the external observer, the motionless mobile suits looked like some kind of technological Stonehenge, with Penelope providing the tallest, intact structure, and Victory 2 the one toppled closest to the ground.

“Ready?” Lassiter asked Monique over a closed circuit.

“Oh yes,” she responded, fiercely gripping her controls.

“All right, let’s- AHH!!!” Lassiter yelled as he suddenly saw the ground rapidly rushing at him. Monique had jammed Penelope’s leg under Xi’s and tripped him! At the exact same instant, Tyr’s boldness and spirited nature finally won over caution and he too attacked, flinging his monomolecular heat wires at Xi. Or, at least, where Xi had been an instant before; as Lassiter’s Gundam went face first into the ground, the wires sliced through empty air. Monique slammed into Astrophel’s Victory 2, knocking over the much smaller mobile suit. Shocked by the sight of the massive Penelope moving as quickly as it did, Ryan let off a full blast from his chest- and binder-mounted mega particle cannons, which partially refracted off Sisquiede’s I-field and into Belphagor’s arm, blasting it off at the elbow.

“Backstabber!” Tyr shouted, turning his triple sonic smashers on the Kshatriya; Ryan again protected himself with his binders, but the much greater power of the Belphagor’s heavy weapons literally blew them clean off his mobile suit. Seizing the opportunity, Deux literally clobbered the Belphagor in its bulbous shoulders with his huge I-field launcher; the weight of the weapon and the Sisquiede’s prodigious strength bowled Tyr over like a felled log; the loose wires hacked a number of the grounded Xi’s extremities, including a beam saber, most of its shoulder armors and a number of the protruding apogee motors.

“Linebacker me, will you…” Astrophel hissed, slamming his beam shield into the Penelope’s leg. Monique quickly pulled aside before the leg could be completely taken off, responding in kind with a nearly point-blank volley of funnel missiles. At that range, even unguided bombs would have found their target, leaving the Victory 2 in shambles, much to Astrophel’s chagrin.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself!” Monique chided, now zeroing in on the Kshatriya. Despite the loss of his forward binders (and half his funnels contained therein), Ryan had recovered more quickly than Monique had anticipated, and she was greeted with a beam saber ramming through Penelope’s shoulder. A warning schematic appeared on one panel of her panoramic cockpit alerting that the skewed arm was now inoperative. Wasting no time, Ryan prepared to fire his mega particle cannons into the Penelope’s body at close range. “You want a piece of this too?!” she barked, quickly leveling her beam rifle at the Kshatriya’s face and pulling the trigger. The green mobile suit’s head fragmented into any number of pieces that scattered out behind it, sending it to towards the ground. In what seemed a final act of defiance, the Kshatriya’s mega particle cannons fired, wrecking the horn-like projection above Penelope’s head before dissipating harmlessly off the back of its beam barrier.

Thoroughly infuriated at being, literally, tripped up at the very beginning of the showdown, Lassiter righted himself with his Minovsky craft system and was about to take aim at his troublesome sister when the muzzle of Sisquiede’s I-field launcher was projected most glaringly into the view of one side of his monitors.

“No defense is going to stop this!” Deux exclaimed, as he once again activated Offense Mode. The Sisquiede’s body began glowing blue as a huge concentration of mega particles began building up around the barrel of its weapon. Lassiter knew he’d have less than a moment to react before the high power blast would annihilate the top half of his Xi. In that moment, a thought occurred to him: since the Sisquiede’s launcher was well within the radius of his own beam barrier, so too must he be within the radius of Sisquiede’s I-field.

“Don’t be so sure!” Lassier rebutted, literally grabbing onto the I-field launcher’s barrel. The blast took off the Xi’s arm, shoulder and a not-insignificant chunk of the left side of its upper body, narrowly missing the head and critical systems in the torso. The I-field launcher’s destruction inflicted similar damages to the Sisquiede’s body, as well as immobilizing its right leg. Deux was mortified that Lassiter would take such a gamble, but didn’t dwell to think on it for long; he quickly drew his remaining beam saber, flipped it into a grip-up position, and went to deliver the kill. The sudden appearance of condensing particles on Xi’s remaining mega beam cannon, however, quickly reminded him that without his I-field launcher, he was defenseless against such an attack. The blast tore through the Sisquiede’s hips and pelvis, dropping the one-armed torso to the ground like a piece of refuse.

Lassiter, however, was almost as dismayed; his beam barrier had shorted out due to the damaged sustained by the I-field launcher’s explosion. Even more troubling, however, was the sight of Kshatriya hitting the ground; the less-mangled Penelope and Monique were now his last opponents.

“Well! That was certainly fun,” Monique said in a rather cheery tone. “And now, dear brother…” Penelope’s remaining funnel missiles detached and began hovering menacingly around it, pointed directly at him.

“Like Tyr said,” Lassiter began, eyeing the Belphagor’s severed arm. “Trial by combat in the most knightly fashion!” He propelled the battered Xi towards the ground; nonplussed, Monique directed her missiles to blast the re-grounded Xi and net her the victory to the quick but brutal melee. Lassiter grabbed the Belphagor’s arm and swung it at his sister just as the missiles began flying towards him.

“What did you intend to do with that?” Monique giggled. “Put both hands up to surrender?” No sooner had she said that, however, than her funnel missiles unilaterally exploded mid-flight. A moment later, shear divides in consummate, parallel lines formed across her monitor. “…impossible!” She was able to briefly make out the monomolecular wires twinkling with refracted light and follow them back to the Belphagor’s severed arm before her screens went out and the Penelope literally began falling apart as through every critical bolt and rivet had popped clean of its body. Fortunately for Monique, the cockpit held together.

“The most knightly fashion…” Tyr grumbled at seeing part of his disabled mobile suit used in such a way. “What a fraud.”

Outcome: Xi wins, Penelope and Sisquiede and Kshatriya and Belphagor and Victory 2 lose
Xi: 3 days damage
Penelope: 4 days damage
Sisquiede: 4 days damage
Kshatriya: 3 days damage
Belphagor: 3 days damage
Victory 2: 4 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Wing Zero ambushes Stargazer
By: Victory 2 and Trent

“Just make sure to be at Altara on time, CT.” In the cockpit of his recently-won suit, the Stargazer, CT Weaver adjusted his goggles and leaned back in his seat. The words washed over him, and though his brain was clear from the drugs he still believed he could see the patterns they made in the air. Finally, a spark of recognition fired deep in his mind. A meeting past, some conversation, a plan – these concerned him little. Even so, some part of him moved his hands to take the wheel of the truck he had “borrowed” recently – its prior owner failed to understand the power of the threads that would allow him to move his Holistic Gundam towards its own greater truth.

* * *

Miles away, a new child took her first steps towards understanding the transcendent realm into which CT peered. Mthunzi Ying fell back into her pilot seat with a heavy sigh. She watched the last bits of natural illumination get cut off by a closing cockpit hatch, and then found her world cast in a crimson red hue. The Wing Zero’s backup lights guided her normal-suit gloved hands through a silent startup sequence. Before hitting the final switch, the young woman looked around her cramped new world. Closing her eyes, she became numbers.

Ones and zeros; yeses and nos. Wing Zero’s infamous control system began to absorb information from the near-universe. It translated this into data, and found the most logical course. “I understand,” Mthunzi let out a sharp gasp. “I am going to kill you all!”

* * *

CT’s drive became interrupted by a disturbance. Indistinguishable – only at first – from the usual tapestry, this abnormality gradually and then profoundly pressed against the very fabric of this plane. The truck came to a screeching halt; its breaks locked up and the monolithic trailer left deep scars in the muddy, forest-lined path Weaver had chosen to follow. Instantly, he scrambled out the window, climbing atop the cabin and leaping over to the cockpit of his Holistic Gundam. Behind those dark goggles, his eyes were almost… panicked. A smile creased the strange man’s lips, but inside he felt as though a gaping hole had opened in the pit of his stomach.

“I will kill you,” a voice spoke flatly over the open-band communication channel. The hollow words preceded a shaking in the air. Birds flocked south; to the north, the tree line began to quake furiously.

Preternatural, drug-assisted speed was all that saved CT Weaver. Miraculously, he managed to ignite both all-encompassing beam shields on the Stargazer’s arms before an impossible band of yellow light ripped through the foliage and slammed into his truck. The vehicle exploded beneath Stargazer, and the attacking energy pushed against his spherical barrier so hard the mobile suit was picked up and carried by momentum to the opposite side of the road. It skidded for several meters, leaving a great ditch in its wake, before finally stopping at the base of a gigantic tree. Inside, CT was thrown from the pilot’s to gunner’s seat.

“You are my enemy,” the soulless female continued. “I will destroy you.”

CT scrambled back into proper position, just in time to witness his enemy advanced at full-speed through the tunnel she’d created for herself.

Nothingness played on Mthunzi’s face. The Zero system embedded in her cockpit began feeding reams of data as she approached the Stargazer. Almost of its own volition, her hand grasped the firing controls to her suit’s machinecannons, firing round after round at the target.

CT grinned as he leapt into the air, the slugs missing only barely. This was an opportunity to once again examine the power of unity that his suit signified. “From ashes to ashes, dust to dust, all things are one…” His tinted vision still showed him the thread of his opponent, weaving to and fro now in an erratic dance. He could almost feel the beam pistol in his own hand, as the Stargazer took aim and fired several shots at the Wing Zero. This was strange, though… CT could not understand why, but this thread seemed to almost shiver against the backdrop of the ground, as if there was some unknown substance that obscured it. He frowned, firing again and again, angry that this interloper would refuse to submit to the harmony of the universe.

Zero took each hit in stride, chips of Gundanium searing off its flesh, but otherwise undeterred. Mthunzi continued to lash out with her machinecannons, tracers chasing Stargazer until finally tagging its lower leg. Discarded like a meaningless distraction was the twin buster rifle, replaced by a newly-birthed beam sword that glowed as deadly and evil as Wing Zero’s eyes. Its engines blared, and roared, and shook the ground below as it chased Stargazer higher towards the firmament.

Realizing that this aberrant thread was climbing faster than he could urge the Holistic to fly, CT parried sideways in hopes the Zero would pass. It did not. Instead, Mthunzi brought it to an impossible mid-air halt. For a moment, the Gundam glared into its designated target. “You are my enemy,” the girl droned on.

Stargazer frantically responded by pumping more point-blank rounds into Zero’s chest crystal. Each hot shot did little to even press it back. In a flash of speed and power, Mthunzi’s hands brought her sword down onto one of Stargazer’s arm, then up through the other in a single smooth motion. She finished by again belting out machinecannon fire, the rounds dotting a parallel path down from Stargazer’s neck to its groin. She finished the attack with a twirl, using the Zero’s weight and thrust to swat Stargazer from the air using her shield’s blunt surface.

The ivory suit careened down, smashing through yet more trees before getting buried ass-first into the ground. Battered and broken, its engines failed to free the Stargazer from its earthen shackles. CT was left with few options. He looked at his power, and looked at the Wing Zero. Only one choice…

Zero’s mighty wingspan spread out. The Gundam aimed its beam sword’s blade downwards, grasping its hilt in both hands. Mthunzi instantly obtained a targeting solution directly at the Stargazer’s cockpit. Her feet kicked the thruster pedals, and G-forces slammed her body into the pilot seat.

“I got this one,” a cheerful hello told CT everything was going to be fine. Looking from his perch above the gunner’s position, Weaver again saw the mass of tangled chords and deep warmth he’d encountered only once before. Recognizing the all-maker’s favored avatar, he was free to bow his head and accepted everything would be made right.

Twin streams of transparent blue light cooked the air behind Wing. It fell at blinding speed, saber pressed out ahead. Yet just before it met the Stargazer, the hopeless prey ignited a twisting, tumultuous globe of green energy. Six concentric rings orbited around the white suit, cutting anything in their path. Wing Zero slammed into them, a testament to its armor that only sparks flew. Its verniers pressed harder and pushed more ferociously, scarring and tearing apart the suit itself. But it couldn’t budge against the barrier.

Inside, Mthunzi grunted. “I will kill you!” she now shouted. Zero knew this wasn’t the right tactic, but somewhere in her mind the pilot was wresting control away from her suit by committing virtual suicide. Recognizing its lost grasp on the young woman’s mind, the system chose the next logical path – temporary surrender. It shut down, and Mthunzi collapsed into unconsciousness. Wing Zero fell dead onto the globe, its head and arms and chest plating torn apart before it slid to the ground next to Stargazer.

CT was equally unconscious when all was said and done. His Holistic Gundam saw fit to shut itself off.

Outcome: Stargazer wins, Wing Zero loses
Stargazer: 3(2) days damage
Wing Zero: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Sword Calamity versus Tallgeese II
By: Maxter

Mobile suits rarely came with air conditioning…

In general, sustaining oneself in a self contained normal suit, inside of a self-contained cockpit negated the need for additional heat or cooling. Then again, the makers of the great and powerful weapons of the future had never been inside one during the height of summer in the jungle. Yet at this point, Alexie Nicholi Romanov was fairly certain, should he meet the maker of Sword Calamity, he would strangle the entire design team. Of course, only after kissing them for making such a brilliantly designed unit. But really… someone would die for this heat.

“Would it be so hard for an A/C unit!” Alexie muttered to himself, heel of his hand wiping off the hair clinging to his forehead. This was hour fourteen of what was supposed to be a half-hour operation. It was simple: locate the Tallgeese II, initiate a quick and efficient strike and leave. But something wasn’t right. Either the intel was wrong, or something else, for the query was nowhere to be found.

Checking the coordinates for the hundredth time, Alexie was moments away from giving up when his audio sensors went wild.

Someone was close.

“Finally!” Alexie muttered, as the Sword Calamity drew its Schwert Gewehr swords. “Prepare to meet the might of Romanov!” And like that, the mobile suit attacked.

~

The greatest feature of a Mobile Suit, as far as the Angel of Iblis was concerned, was the foresight to not include air conditioning.

Aside from the efficiency of sparing such a system, suffering was one of the cores of living. It made one stronger, and prepared one for even greater struggles. Hour fourteen of a supposedly half-hour operation, Feyd was still thankful of such a tribulation, even if his cockpit felt more of a sweatbox. The intel said that the Sword Calamity was in the region, but he had learned a while ago that intel was only accurate for as long as it took to be printed. A good soldier had to learn to improvise.

Checking the coordinates for the hundredth time, Feyd was moments away from returning to base for resupply, when his audio sensors went wild.

Something was close.

“It’s him,” Feyd murmured to himself, fingers working over the console to prepare for imminent conflict. The Tallgeese II hummed to life, dober gun drawn in a smooth motion and brought to fore. Perhaps the Spartan Suit of monolithic proportions was more ready than its pilot. The legends of it suggested so.

Feyd counted to ten and moved forward, teeth barred and ready for anything. It was time to attack.

~

“Huh.” Alexie and Feyd said at the time.

Both pilots were surprised, not least of which because both faced a weapon aimed point blank at their cockpits – the Gundam wielding its mighty blade, its white counterpart brandishing dober gun. The Sword Calamity and the Tallgeese II hovered still, like Colossuses of old, forever immortalized in their last stand, even as inside, their human masters were breathing air that could have been their last.

“This is an awkward position,” Alexie murmured into the communicator.

“Quite,” was Feyd’s simple response.

“I don’t suppose you’ll lower your weapon.”

“Only if you do first.”

“The hell with that. You’re trying to take me out.”

“And you’re not?”

“Touche.” Alexie quirked his mouth slightly. “A duel then? For honor?”

A long pause.

“Fine. On the count of three.”

“Agreed. One.”

“Two.”

There was no need to say three as both suits burst to life. Those trees that survived the initial burning of activated power were crushed asunder by simultaneously ignited thrusters. Like a delicately practiced ballet, the two slid backwards before suddenly rushing each other. It was the Tallgeese which acted first, lifting the dober gun, firing three well timed blasts. Each and every one hit true, only to be reflected off of Calamity’s Phase Shift at the last possible moment.

Cursing his bad luck, Feyd quickly changed tactics, dropping the gun and igniting both beam sabers seconds before colliding with the Calmity. The crash of the two behemoths resounded through the landscape, causing even more foliage to collapse, but little else – for the two were once again locked into a stalemate, with the Tallgeese’s sabers cross-barred, using every ounce of tension to push against the much larger Schwert Gewehr swords.

The tension ended when Tallgeese skirted sideways, disengaging its sabers and dropping the weapons down. Both units shuffled around each other, taking gouges to their sides, but ended up more-or-less even for the maneuver.

“Not bad,” they remarked at the same time, frowning as they realized the other had said it. And with that the battle continued. In the grand scale of things, both were novice pilots in suits greater than their capabilities, but that only enhanced the appeal of the match. Neither had that killer instinct that came through intense use, preventing each from exploiting the other’s flaw. The result was a sword match as elegant as it was clumsy; they struck back and forth, each swinging, and ducking and stabbing and just barely managing to juke out of harm’s way. Misses were too near, and both scored plasma-scratches on the opponent’s armor.

Sweating in a way that had nothing to do with the heat, Alexie panted, ignoring the continuous damage alarms from his systems. The cuts and burns all over the Sword Calamity were mostly cosmetic or minor, but they added up. The most frustrating part of the battle for him was the fact his enemy sported no more than he himself did. But Alexie saw his opportunity moments later, as the Tallgeese’s beam sabers sputtered and died, battery drained from such exertion.

“You’re done now!” Alexie cried, running forward to give one great heave of his right sword.

Feyd was waiting for that moment. Anticipating such a telegraphed attack, the Tallgeese rolled to its side at the last possible moment, reclaiming the dober gun and firing blindly. While the first five or six missed wildly, the final shot hits its mark – the exposed backpack of the Calmity. A secondary explosion emptied his battery; with a loud hiss the store energy drained away and Trans-Phase armor faded to gray.

Feyd watched his foe’s color fade away, and seized the advantage. Tallgeese kicked its deadly-powerful thrusters into action, prepared to deliver a final blow…

“Such…power,” the Angel muttered even as his suit took to the air, blasting forward towards the exposed Calamity at frightening speeds. Dots of black crossed his vision, but Feyd would not relent, using every muscle in his body to attempt to lift the suit’s dober gun. So concentrated was he, that he didn’t even notice the rocket anchors that flew and attached to his suit…

Inside Sword Calamity, Alexie grinned… only to watch in horror as his opponent charged towards, completely missed, and then continued past his position. Like a man being pulled by a team of dogs, Calmity found itself being dragged through the underbrush at super high velocity. Alexie tried to hail his opponent to little avail. What he couldn’t see was Feyd, slumped over his own controls, passed out from the might of the Tallgeese.

In the end, it was Mother Nature who ended the battle, with dozens of trees and small hills sacrificed to slow the inertia of the two suits to a shimmering halt… When his Sword Calamity settled into an abrupt stop, Alexie found himself thrown against his cockpit restraints so hard, he joined Feyd in blissful slumber.

Outcome: Draw
Sword Calamity: 2 days damage
Tallgeese: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Poor Gylkengaine
By: Trent

Crackling, bubbling lava dribbled down the side of Mount St. Helens as it had done for centuries since becoming active. Base Altara floated atop this infernal flow, a single platform raised up by two massive support beams. Thick clouds and billowing smoke from the mountain’s gaping maw obfuscated any trace of the sun, despite Sol hanging high at midday. Instead, the immediate area was cast a tint of saffron, illuminated by the flowing, molten rock.

A handful of mountaintops away, Messaoud Naceri pulled taught two tan-leather gloves over his hands. The tank pilot’s cheeks and lips lifted into a full-faced smile. In an Imazighen accent he finished up his conversation with ‘Jack Thompson.’ “… and then you two will mop up?”

“Sure thing,” Charlie Cordova’s (Jack Thompson) voice crackled over a box-speaker above Naceri’s head. The antiquated Hidolfr lacked the luxuries of video chat, but that wasn’t so bothersome. Despite its age, the old rig sported more than a fair share of tricks. “Keep the fire support coming, but we should be fine against the mobile suit forces.”

“Got it,” Naceri nodded his consent, his anticipation bubbling out into a squeal. “Time to have some fun.”

Hidolfr’s squat frame sat upon a grey plateau amongst the range’s craggy peaks. Combat computers and more traditional spotting instruments began taking note of Altara’s various emplacements: three hangars and one command tower, plus a lonely missile turret. Having suffered two attacks in the last week, the Orb base kept its full contingent of Leos on patrol, and one Taurus skimmed the skies.

Naceri took heed of the flight-capable mobile weapon, and his hands trembled slightly. If he was spotted before his job was done, not only would he probably be dead, the entire operation would go to hell. “Don’t blow this,” he huffed, then eased the Hidolfr’s cannon into position.

The tank’s large barrel raised up to allow for a maximum arch. Simultaneously, its auto-loader crammed one shell into the breach. Naceri fired. Thunder boomed out of the cannon; all of Hidolfr shuddered, and pebbles and rocks surrounding the vehicle jumped several inches from the ground.

“One shot away!”

Wasting no time, Naceri ejected the giant casing from his main weapon as the barrel lowered its aim and loaded a second round. Hidolfr erupted once more, this time firing its payload at a moderately faster speed. Finally, the cannon was lowered to near-level with its intended target, and a third shell screamed towards Altara.

What resulted in this display of quick-target acquisition was a near-simultaneous trio of explosions on the installation’s compound. The first, mortar-like projectile fell true on a hangar, the building’s roof collapsing around the munition before its entire infrastructure burst into flame and shrapnel. The second, howitzer-esque explosive smashed between two unsuspecting Leos – both were thrown up and over the platform’s edge, landing in the lavaflow below. The third round punctured Altara’s lone remaining missile turret, resulting in a swarm of rockets that threw the compound into full, siren-blaring alert.

“Greetings, esteemed targets. Today’s barrage is brought to you by North Africa’s 101st Mobile Division. As you no doubt can tell, your positions are quite surrounded. Abandon your weapons and let us take the base, or face defeat at the hands of an expertly trained battalion!”

The message played over and over again like propaganda across all frequencies in the area. It served to disrupt the regrouping Leos, but Naceri’s main threat – the Taurus – had already spotted his lone mobile tank and knew the communiqué was a simple ruse. The flying mobile armor made a sharp turn straight for his location.

“Umm… Just kidding!” he screamed. “No—no hard feelings, right? I’ll just mosey on down the hill and help you rebuild! How does that sound?”

Naceri’s surrender was premature. Lifting off from a mountain not far away, Jack in Diamond sliced through the air at full burn in its mobile armor mode. The kite-shaped fighter moved on a straight intercept course for the Taurus. “You know the plan, CT! You too, Messaoud. Let’s crumble these walls!”

Stargazer revealed itself. The white doll ascended without aide from traditional thrusters, moving as if by force of mind alone. Up into the air, it gave no concern to conserving energy: the suit’s orbiting sphere of green beam rings sprang to life. Inside, CT Weaver peered from behind his trademark goggles, and saw the landscape with his own unique perspective. The mountains rose up and down like waves; the smoke above appeared as golden storm clouds; Altara was entirely two-dimensional.

Its chest lurching forward, the rest of its body following suite, Stargazer made all haste towards the abstract installation. It got about halfway there, when another of Hidolfr’s shells cut a Leo in half.

Inside his cockpit, the lone Taurus pilot sneered. “Scum,” he spat out, twisting a nozzle on the transformable suit’s dash that increased all power to its beam cannon. He knew this was risky, but he’d seen far too many friends die in a handful of days. The space-only beam cannon brimmed with power; it belched out a gigantic wave of mega particles that traveled far faster than any mobile weapon’s verniers could muster. The energy exploded right in front of Hidolfr. Messaoud’s entire world went black; his monitors and view ports were completely covered with dust. Control panels began to spark, smoke, and then lit on fire. The Hidolfr’s main cannon and front section were completely annihilated. A few meters closer, and Messaoud would have been too. Not knowing what else to do, he scrambled to get the tank’s hatch open and then jumped out. He hit the ground, rolling away, and nearly cried when he saw his faithful mount go up in flames.

“No!” Charlie intercepted the Taurus just after he saw Hidolfr engulfed by a raging inferno. “Bastard,” he muttered. From his vantage point, there was little chance Messaoud could have survived.

“That coward’s answering to my comrades in Hell,” the Taurus pilot responded. His mobile weapon shifted into suit mode and threw away its now-useless cannon. Instead, it drew a beam rifle and obtained a firing solution on Charlie’s mobile fighter.

Jack in Diamond underwent a similar transformation into humanoid form. Inside, Charlie’s muscles tensed. Inner power and strength he’d never before known began to pour across his skin. Goosebumps formed; hairs rose. The air around Jack in Diamond became awash with unknown, invisible energy.

Two beam rifle shots pegged either shoulder of the Diamond. Armor was stripped clean off, and Charlie felt the pain. He ignored it. Two more shots pegged him in the stomach, searing holes in the Diamond. He just stood still. Another two shots from the Taurus – these times both sizzled into nothingness before making contact, overwhelmed by unseen force.

“What the hell are you!?” the Taurus’s pilot growled. His feet slammed on the pedals, and his suit charged shoulder-first at the enemy.

Charlie waited. Jack in Diamond’s right fist pulled back, ready. When the Taurus got just close enough, it sprang forward with hand pressed as flat as a blade. The open palm spliced open his foe’s chest, wrapped around its cockpit core, and ripped the cradle directly from its mount. The Taurus’s full momentum was stopped dead by the Jack’s other hand.

Like a dummy with no ventriloquist, the Taurus lost all lift and plummeted. Jack in Diamond’s own mysterious power began to dwindle; Charlie tossed the cockpit casing over his shoulder, letting it fall as well, before he switched back into mobile armor mode. Only then did he allow a grimace at the pain; his monitor’s showed critical damage to all parts of his suit, but the battle was still not over…

Coming to a stop several meters above Altara, CT Weaver initiated his mad dance. Though he saw only a flat plane, brought on by hallucinations from a moderate dose of mescaline, his mind knew the base had to have depth. Stargazer spun around rapidly like a top, jerking from one place to another and psyching out the four remaining Leos.

They responded by firing on it with their machineguns. Bullets filled the air, but while a few hit and did moderate damage, none were effective at stopping their target. Stargazer fell upon one mass-production, and by simple proximity, it had a very similar effect to running the suit through a blender. Pieces of Leo fell to the ground, and CT rested over them with a sense of satisfaction.

Witnessing such absolute destruction, the other three units were quick to hoist up doberguns and bleat out three shells at the now-stationary Stargazer. One hit its rotating rings, becoming so much dust; the next made it through, crushing Stargazer’s pelvis; the third missed altogether, as CT finally saw sense in dodging.

“Just get me close,” he heard his insubstantial gunner materialize. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Stargazer closed the gap with the closest Leo instantly, snuffing it out with a single rotation of beams. The other two defenders stood to either side. With only a few more seconds of power, CT did the unimaginable – he took his hands off the controls. “Thank you,” he stated, and closed his eyes.

Stargazer’s rings fell down. It drew both beam pistols, and crossed its arms over its chest. The gun in the right hand aimed left, and the pistol in the left hand aimed right. Two shots later, both Leos sported holes through their cockpits.

Pleased by the display, CT again gripped the controls. His battery was dead, but engines still functioned. Stargazer rose directly upwards, turned away from Altara, and left the scene without so much as a goodbye.

Jack in Diamond landed moments after, swooping down and transforming into mobile suit mode. Charlie stepped in between the flaming Leo remnants, waltzing towards the platform’s edge. He looked over into the lava-river, admiring its heat – a strength he could now call upon. Nodding, he backtracked to Altara’s center.

“Thank you, Messaoud,” Charlie whispered. Remembering the strength he pulled from himself earlier, the Gundam fighter willed it into his fists. They burst into flame. Pulling his arm up and back, the Jack in Diamond followed motion. “Explode!” Charlie shouted! The Diamond’s mighty hand smashed into the ground, fire spreading out like a nuclear explosion from point of impact. The entire installation shook to the core, and the support beams crumbled. Jack in Diamond leapt high and then transformed to mobile armor mode; it swiftly flew away as Altara sank into the volcanic flow.

Of course, little did its pilot know, but Naceri Messaoud was quite alive. “Yes! Alright!” the bubbly shoulder cheered at seeing Altara fall. “Good job guys! Now come over here and—pick—me—up…?”

Jack in Diamond disappeared into the opposite skyline.

Outcome: Altara destroyed
Hidolfr: 4 days damage
Jack in Diamonds: 3 days damage
Stargazer: 3 (2) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Nu versus Quin Mantha
By: Perfect Zeong

That pressure again… Makoto Nagano thought. Am I being watched? Nagano looked around his panoramic cockpit, trying to feel out the unsettling presence that was poking at the back of his mind.

“Hey, Makoto, you okay?” Octavius Langston asked. As soon as he began talking, Octavius’ Newtype presence immediately dominated the spectrum around Makoto, and the unsettling pressure promptly dissipated.

“Ahh… yeah, I’m fine,” Makoto said, shaking his head to clear the unappealing thoughts out. “Okay, ready for our little match?”

“You bet,” Octavius replied, crossing the Quin Mantha’s arms in a mock stretching exercise. Makoto nodded, settling his Nu Gundam into a combat stance, beam rifle at the ready. The two Orb mobile suits stared each other down for a tense moment, then let their remote weapons fly.

---

The unsettling pressure, James M. Elredge to be precise, fixated his Freedom Gundam’s magnification at maximum power – the Nu ?and Quin Mantha were still somewhat blurry.

“Hmph… need to get a higher-power zoom lens…” James noted in an irritated tone, his Freedom not yet perfected. He had hoped to be able to take a few shots at the dueling mobile suits from maximum range, but with such a blurry target, he’d more than likely miss. James decided he’d close in a little further and try to get a better target lock.

---

Makoto had hoped to use his fin funnels’ powerful beam guns to blast the much larger and more heavily armed Quin Mantha as soon as the duel began, but Octavius had managed to get his funnels out first, forcing Makoto to use them to generate his octahedral beam barrier. Octavius did not press his attack, instead allowing his swarm of funnels to haphazardly blast away at the beam barrier.

“Those are nice funnels,” Octavius noted. “But it seems that even with that advanced psyco-system, I’m still faster.” Reaching into the Quin Mantha’s impressive shoulder binder, Octavius produced an impressively-large beam saber and began closing to melee distance.

“That mobile suit of yours is certainly impressive, but…” Makoto began, retrieving his hyper bazooka. “A design with only beam weapons is just asking for trouble!” Makoto unloaded a single round with the bazooka, creating a considerable backwash behind him. The super high-velocity round sped past his funnels, which separated and reformed to allow it to pass, then impacted the Quin Mantha’s binder, punching a small hole in its front. A huge blast erupted out the back, throwing bits of binder out a great distance. Octavius scowled as damage indicators appeared on his monitor.

“Oh enough of this, stop hiding behind that shield and fight!” Octavius growled, focusing all his funnels on a single corner of the octahedron. Two fin funnels shattered into a thousand slagged flakes, dropping two faces of the beam barrier. Octavius grinned and began taking a swing with his beam saber.

---

James had closed nearly half the distance between him and the dueling mobile suits before he found the resolution of his cameras to be satisfactory for his purposes.

“Ah, that’s more like it. Now, let’s see here…” he stated, peering at his potential targets. The green mobile suit was exceptionally large, and seemed to have the other on the defensive; James wasn’t feeling very confident about attacking it. The black-and-white mobile suit quickly caught his eye, however. “Wait a moment… that’s the thug that jumped me the other day!” He remembered the incident well, and was more than pleased that he’d been given an opportunity to even the score a bit, especially now that he had the upper hand. “Oh, how fortuitous for me…” James deployed his beam cannons and railguns and began zeroing in on his targets.

---

Octavius and Makoto had gone straight into hand-to-hand combat, clashing their enormous beam sabers. Both of their funnels were trained on the other in something of a Mexican standoff – the duel could end at any time. Octavius was rapidly gaining the upper hand as well. He was more familiar with his mobile suit, and the Quin Mantha’s prodigious weight and strength lent itself to his benefit. Octavius pressed his advantage harder; the Nu dropped to one knee with the behemoth bearing down on him.

“Give up?” Octavius inquired, wondering if he’d have to take off an arm before Makoto would grant him his victory.

“I’m not finished yet,” Makoto grumbled, “Not yet!” He jammed the Nu’s shield into the Quin Mantha’s stomach; Octavius became quickly aware of the beam cannon and missiles stored therein.

“You really want to escalate that much? Fine!” Octavius replied; mega particles began condensing around the muzzles in his mobile suit’s torso. Suddenly, a small spark of prescience made itself known in the back of Octavius’ mind. “What the…” Makoto’s psycoframe felt it much more acutely; a feeling like he was about to get a knife jammed into the back of his head.

“Get down!” Makoto yelled, intentionally allowing his mobile suit to fall over backwards.

---

Grinning eagerly, James depressed all three triggers on his control stick at once, opening up a full barrage with his beam rifle, cannons and railguns. No sooner had he pulled the trigger than the back of the Nu Gundam dropped out of his sights, leaving the Quin Mantha scrambling to retain balance.

“What?!” James demanded. His beams annihilated two consummate divots from the Nu’s shoulders before harmlessly dissipating off the Quin Mantha’s deflection system. The railgun slugs slammed into the green mobile suit’s hips, blasting chunks out behind it as they continued on into the distance. “How shamelessly lucky… well, no matter. One miss isn’t going to save you!” James sent the Freedom airborne and began closing the distance, powering up his guns for another barrage.

---

Not far away, Mhus Dalahk continued scanning the surrounding environs for something to test his new mobile weapon on. Though he found Akatsuki to be especially “conspicuous” with its golden anti-beam coating, he couldn’t deny that it handled like a dream, and thanks to its “Owashi” backpack unit, fully capable of sustained flight as well. "I wonder why Orb decided to assign me this impressive, if… conspicuous… mobile suit…" he thought.

“Perhaps they’ve realized my innate talents?” he asked aloud, enjoying a chuckle before settling back into his usual “silent type” mood. A dialogue window appeared on his monitor, displaying the following text:

"Ens. Dalahk_
Mobile suit(s) with unidentified IFF are within combat radius of ORB-01. Display?_"

Intrigued, Mhus commanded for it to do so. Indicators appeared near the edge of his monitor, and he steered the airborne Akatsuki to better get a view of them. Two mobile suits were highlighted in green with a small caption next to each: RX-93 and NZ-000 respectively. Both were labeled as registered Orb units. A third unit, apparently attacking the others from mid-air, displayed no model number and no IFF code.

“Ah… sounds like a target to me,” he said, unfolding his beam cannons and beginning to descend.

---

“Dammit!” Octavius declared; distressing damage readouts informed him that the two hits to his Quin Mantha’s lower torso had severed both the primary and secondary hydraulic lines, as well as most of the power systems to the legs, leaving his mobile suit effectively paralyzed from the waist down. His auto-targeting system displayed the Freedom in perfect clarity.

“Annapolis causing trouble, now?” Octavius noted the blue and silver insignia on its shoulder.

“Oh,” Makoto frowned. “Probably wants a piece of me after I jumped him the other day…”

“This is your fault?! Great,” Octavius grumbled.

“Okay, not a problem,” Makoto stated, taking a shot at the Freedom with his beam rifle. “I had you on the ropes, this guy should be cake!” The airborne Gundam easily avoided the attack and let loose a second fusillade; Makoto narrowly avoided a direct hit, but lost most of the thruster pack on one leg. His prospects were not looking quite as good as he had thought…

---

“You joke,” James scoffed, noting that the Nu’s remote weapons were now lining up and taking shots at him as well. “You might have banged me up when you had the upper hand, but let’s see how well you handle it now that I’m on the offense!” James fired his own beam rifle twice, pegging the Nu directly in the arm, slagging most of the way through and leaving it hanging limp afterwards. Pleased with that result, James began zeroing the Nu’s torso?to his sights again. “Payback is so sweet…” His finger tightened around the triggers. Suddenly, something violently jolted his Gundam, and he saw pieces of debris flying off it through his monitors. A display indicated that both of his railguns were damaged. “You brought friends?!” James demanded, only now getting a good look at the newcomer.

---

“Beam cannons need to be calibrated a little more, it looks like they’re slightly off…” Mhus said, making a mental note of the error. Sliding his sights ever so slightly to one side, he fired his twin beam cannons again; one went wide, as anticipated, while the other skimmed under the Gundam’s armpit, damaging its movement actuators.

“Really needs calibration,” Mhus said with added emphasis. He began preparing for yet another shot when a flurry of pink beams shot up from below the Freedom; nearly all missed the Gundam’s body, but its many sharp protrusions and the tips of its wings were nibbled way by near-hits. One scored a direct hit, and the Freedom’s left leg detached from the rest of its body and fell towards the ground below. Mhus now observed the two mobile suits that seemed to be in such dire straights earlier had gotten about themselves and let loose with their remote weapons.

---

“I don’t believe it! Thwarted again!” James hissed. The newcomer in the golden mobile suit’s aim was shoddy, and the two on the ground were already in poor condition, but without his railguns, he knew he would be hard-pressed to finish off the green behemoth without risking complete destruction of his Gundam – a condition he was not willing to accept. “Fine. I’ll retreat for now. This isn’t over…” he duly noted, dropping his beam rifle and darting away with all due haste.

---

“Is that thing painted gold?” Octavius asked in an incredulous tone. “Must be a prototype or something…”

“Maybe so… still, he got rid of that company miscreant, eh?” Makoto noted. The Akatsuki touched down nearby, its wings folding up behind it.

“Hello,” Mhus stated on an open Orb channel and gesturing in the direction the Freedom had flown off in. “Who was that guy?”

Outcome: Akatsuki wins, Freedom loses, Quin Mantha and Nu draw
Akatsuki: No damage
Freedom: 3 days damage
Quin Mantha: 3 days damage
Nu: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Jester ambushes SUMO
By: Stargazer

The cantina was dark. The few lights that worked glowed dimly, fitfully – pools of illumination in the quiet murmuring landscape of the single, large room. A small man worked the bar, his face lined with age and his movements careful and gentle. The clientele, scattered across booths and tables and the bar itself – kept quiet and mostly alone. This wasn’t a place to meet, chat, bring vibrant nightlife into the stifling routine of the everyman; it was a place for those who wished to drink during the day, a refuge from the hot day, a swamp of misery and depression and melancholia. The city sounds were muffled here; the bright sunlight was checked for identification and turned around at the door.

Ariel Samon wasn’t sure how she had wound up here. Her reasons fled as the door closed shut behind her. She had come to find a legend, a myth, a god who had turned out to be only a man - but what solace could be found here that wasn’t in the dregs of a dirty glass? Was her star truly among these shattered souls, these solemn beings hunched over their daily relief?

The young Gundam Fighter made her way to the bar, eyes staring straight ahead, fearful that her gaze might be stolen. The small bartender looked up, his calm glance taking in the lithe power held in the girl’s frame. A few whispered words, a surprisingly polite exchange, and she knew who the man in the corner was. She ordered a beer and grasped it, condensation dampening her palm, then walked over to him.

The once-champion sat, a look of slack contentment on his scarred face, in a booth in the darkest corner of the room. A cane was his only companion, leaning against the side of the table. Ariel approached his sullied throne, a supplicant suddenly struck by shyness.

“Hello,” Simão Gomes, five time winner of the Gundam Fight, said. His voice was low, gravelly, weary: exactly how the girl dreamed it would sound. His dark hair was free of the trademark bindings, and the dreadlocks cascaded around his tanned and lined face.

“Hello,” Ariel replied, her voice quiet. Simão looked at her, patient. He recognized what she was in her stance, in her eyes, in her fists. “Um, mind…mind if I have a drink with you?”

The old champion gestured to the otherwise empty booth. Ariel sat. She sipped the beer gingerly, taking in the bar as she thought about what she was going to ask.

“Don’t even start,” Simão said quietly. Ariel was taken aback.

“What?”

“I said don’t even bother,” the older man shook his head, almost sadly, “There’s no point. You’re not good enough, and it wouldn’t matter if you were. You’d end up like this eventually.”

Ariel rebelled. “That’s it? I come here for advice from one of the greatest Gundam Fighters to ever live and all he can say is ‘don’t bother’?”

Simão shrugged. His eyes reflected the light of the burning bulb above his head as he stared at the table.
Disgusted, Ariel stormed out of the bar, leaving her beer sitting on the table. Beads of water slid down its side. Simão smiled and pressed his finger to a drop.

~

Ariel gasped as pain lanced through her left side. The SUMO’s fan blade had cut a superficial wound in the shoulder of the Jester Gundam, but with the mobile trace system any damage to her suit was felt by the young Fighter. The SUMO itself leapt away from her counter attack, Jester’s foot connecting with only air as it swept the ground. This was not going as well as she had thought it might – it had begun in an ambush, with a successful strike against the unprepared SUMO’s back but quickly degenerated from there, no matter how loudly Ariel yelled that the former champion was wrong, wrong and she would prove it.

With a graceful flip, the golden mobile suit landed several paces back from Ariel and her Gundam. Simão’s scarred visage appeared in front of her.

“Never leave yourself open to an attack, no matter how unlikely you think it might be. Never believe that your opponent cannot do something, no matter how much your senses may scream against it.” Simão found himself slipping into the role of teacher, no matter his earlier scorn. It was odd how those tones had changed – lost their weariness, become stronger.
Ariel took her hand off of the wound and the Jester responded in kind, straightening its lanky, twisted frame.

“Okay,” she replied, thankful for the instruction, no longer defiant, now a willing pupil. Once again she leapt at the SUMO, this time firing off both machinecannons and vulcans as the Jester charged. Simão activated his IF-field, negating the ranged attack, and readied his heat fan as the girl approached. In a bit of a surprise, the Jester halted far outside of melee range and loosed a punch that seemed almost pointless – at least, until the Jester’s arm elongated to nearly twice its original length and slammed into the SUMO’s head.

Simão was not completely unprepared for an attack, and as the punch impacted his hands were already on the controls. The SUMO slid backwards, thrusters flaring and feet drawing grooves into the dark earth. Parts of the Brazilian’s viewscreen went dark as cameras gave out, but most of his vision remained – the force of the punch had been diverted.

“Not bad,” he grunted as Jester reeled in its arm, “But you didn’t listen.” His left hand brought up the beam pistol. “Maybe next time you will.” He loosed the battle-ending beam blast.

In a second, a translucent barrier sprung up around the Jester. The beam spattered harmlessly off of this new addition to Ariel’s arsenal, and for the first time during this training duel Simão was speechless.

“I was listening - and watching - a little better than you thought, old guy,” Ariel said, with a confidence she rarely felt. Simão laughed.

“Not bad,” he said, grudgingly. The SUMO lowered its beam pistol, the man realizing that ranged combat was basically useless. “But you have to get up pretty early in the morning to beat Simão Gomes!”

The golden mobile suit charged forward with an alacrity that surprised Ariel. Moving with a speed and grace normally reserved to Mobile Fighters, the SUMO danced around the beam strings the Jester threw at it and deftly sliced through its left arm. The heat fan left a clean, melted wound, and torment raced like lightning through the mobile trace system. Ariel grunted, tears blurring her vision, but managed to keep her focus on her opponent’s location.

Simão was now behind her. A flying roundhouse was deflected by one of his suit’s arms, and the beam fan once again sizzled to its target. Ariel ducked, the Jester avoiding decapitation by centimeters. The former champion was just too fast. These were the final seconds of the fight. In desperation, Ariel fired her machinecannons and at point blank range, they cut deep into the chest of the SUMO. But it was unfortunately too late. Her cameras all went dead as the heat fan slammed into the head of the Jester, bisecting it cleanly and finishing the fight.

“Brings back memories,” Simão mused as he aided the young lady from her broken steed.

Outcome: SUMO wins, Jester loses
SUMO: 2 days damage
Jester: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Hyperion Unit 1 versus Rafflesia
By: Jack in Diamond

The harsh Alaskan winds whipped errant flakes of snow around with impunity. The leeward side of Mount McKinley felt only marginally warmer than the windward side, despite the double-digit increase in temperature without the wind factor. A natural monument of stolid gray rock with white caps, McKinley stretched into the dark clouds overhead. The sky never really changed, always a churning mass of gray clouds, toys of the atmosphere as much as the snow was the wind’s plaything.

Leighton’s fingers felt as if they were ready to freeze off as he kept his eyes closed, trying to enter a meditative state. The Neo-Psycommu required not just the genetic change that separated human from Newtype, but also fearsome concentration to work; something made difficult by the cold biting at his extremities. The series of wires running from the helmet to the core of the mobile suit connected Leighton with the massive Rafflesia in more ways than one. His fingers twitched; a nearly imperceptible ripple passing through the heat tentacles. He breathed in deeply; the Rafflesia rising a few meters higher off the ground, and then back down with the exhalation. He felt at one with himself and the five petaled mobile armor.

“I’m ready whenever you are Atra, let’s do this.”

Measuring his words carefully, Atra Caelium gave a simple “Affirmative.” over the com; the his own suit already up and running. The cold wasn’t as bad in the Hyperion’s smaller cockpit, with Atra surrounded by the familiar hum of the computers running the G.U.N.D.A.M. operating system. Fully twice his size, the Rafflesia made a dwarf of the Hyperion – yet both were miniscule compared to the oppressive landscape.

It was Atra who made the first move as he set the Hyperion in motion, going skyward and ascending to above the Rafflesia’s height. The Zastava Stigmate, a beam machinegun, sprayed the top of his adversary. The beams never touched the Newtype weapon as its anti-beam barrier caused the shots to slip off of an invisible field in the air around Leighton.

The mobile armor reacted seemingly of its own accord as Leighton sat completely still in his cockpit, the Neo-Psycommu activating his own beam weapons to retaliate. The myriad of mega particle cannons baked the air between the two combatants as the Rafflesia pushed its advantage in terms of sheer firepower. The first two shots were easily avoided, but Atra couldn’t anticipate the veritable storm of beams that proceeded. The made the foot of Mount McKinley look like it was host to a laser show.

Though taking moderate damage, Atra threw up the Hyperion’s “Armure Lumiere.” The backpack spat out the five emitters needed to create the light-wave barrier, and the Rafflesia’s other beams slammed into the field without harm. “Close,” Atra huffed, and proceeded to return fire with the Lumier’s cannons and his machinegun as he landed back on the ground.

With less than a minute having passed the two fighters had already seemed to come to a stalemate: the miniature Umbrella Of Artemis stopped the Rafflesia’s offense while its own beam barrier stopped all but the Hyperion’s nearly ineffective CIWS from affecting it.

Leighton tried to maintain his calm, his unity with machine and self, as he moved the Rafflesia closer to the ground to chase the Hyperion Gundam; the Raf’s massive thrusters leaving molten furrows of snow in its wake. Firing the mega particle cannons indiscriminately, Leighton groaned as he felt a headache form at the top of his skull. It wasn’t that the headache was a problem, but his practices in the Rafflesia had taught him what a small headache could, and would become.

Three minutes. Three minutes of each mobile weapon’s defenses canceling out the other’s offense, three minutes that the Alaskan wilderness suffered as large chunks of earth, rock, and snow were destroyed by the ineffectual exchange of beams. The battle waged fierce, but little ground was given.

Atra’s own calm was in its final throes as his head-mounted CIWS began to overheat, even in the artic weather. The small bullets were able to hit the Rafflesia, the death flower making no effort to avoid the constant stream of small ballistics, yet the attacks were unable to do any sort of significant damage against the heavy armor, simply chipping away at its paint.

His calm disintegrated completely when Atra checked his battery levels. The Hyperion’s remaining energy reserves were at only a quarter of their full strength, constant use of the Armure Lumiere having more than taken its toll. Retracting the defensive field, Atra yanked out a beam knife while igniting the one at the end of the Zastava Stigmate. If the war wasn’t won by the gun, then only the sword was left.

The duelists shrunk the divide between them as they charged head on, the Rafflesia’s mega particle cannons scoring several hits despite Atra’s continued evasiveness. Unconscious of the fact that he was yelling, Atra sent the Hyperion into the air, both legs slamming into one of the Rafflesia’s petal binders as it made contact. Still roaring, Atra used the beam bayonet at the end of the sub-machinegun to tear open a hole in the massive petal, ramming the end of the gun into the opening. “Bet you don’t have an anti-beam field in there…” Rifle barrel firmly jammed into the binder, Atra pulled the trigger, flashes of light reflecting off the white and red paint of the Hyperion as it let loose with its beamgun.

Spinning the Rafflesia around rapidly, Leighton struggled to control his thoughts as he tried to dislodge the offending mobile suit. The cold wasn’t even a factor anymore, as he divided his thoughts between dealing with the Hyperion, and ignoring the pounding migraine brought on by using the Neo-Psycommu. Only Atra’s coordinator reflexes allowed him to avoid the twelve heat tentacles trying to snare him from behind, their superheated chainsaws barely missing as the Hyperion backed away; the saws unintentionally tore into their parent binder.

The typically reserved pilot in the Hyperion cursed as his mobile suit landed in the snow, leaving a scar in the scenery as it skid to a stop. Beam rifle irretrievable from Rafflesia’s petal-binder, Atra replaced it with a second beam knife in hand, watching as the red mobile armor arced in distance, coming back at him. Beam shots lanced into the snow around the Hyperion, Atra not moving as he gauged the range between the two mobile weapons with help from his targeting computer, and then threw his melee weapons with careful aim. Both beams knives streaked across the ever-closing distance, slamming into the Rafflesia, a third beam knife joining its two brothers a moment later.

Leighton was wracked by pain. He didn’t wonder why the Hyperion wasn’t moving, all his focus was kept on keeping control of the Rafflesia as the migraine that had slowly spread across his skull threatened to consume him. Mega particle cannons fired wildly, not really hitting anything as the mobile armor streaked across the foot of Mount McKinley. Pained as he was though, Leighton did have a plan: make Gundam-scaled road kill out of the Hyperion. Friendly duel or not, Leighton realized that his time was limited as he suppressed the urge to vomit from pain.

“What’s he trying?” Atra loosed a frantic whisper, jamming his finger into the button that ignited the Lumiere. It returned to life just in time.

“That barrier won’t save you now!” was the last thing Leighton remembered before the Rafflesia dropped onto his foe.

Hyperion took the impact at full force, its barrier holding up against the girth only so long before power ran out. Immeasurable strain was placed on Atra’s suit; its legs snapped out from under; Hyperion crashed to the ground, pinned beneath Rafflesia. The now-unconscious Leighton’s mobile weapon fared little better, two of its petals crushed on impact and all heat rods falling limp into the snow. There both soldiers were forced to wait, as repair trucks and emergency vehicles were dispatched from headquarters.

Outcome: Draw
Hyperion Unit 1: 3 days damage
Rafflesia: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Not Quite Nataku
By: Perfect Zeong

A gray parrot hungrily munched on a lumpy fruit it had retrieved from a bush some distance away. Taking its time, it got halfway through its meal before an approaching thudding noise caught its attention. The parrot looked around alertly, then abandoned what was left of the fruit and took off. Moments later, Dreyson Bly’s gray Providence Gundam lurched through the dense jungle, obliterating the tree.

“Damn jungle…” Dreyson muttered, having difficulty comparing a paper map with the satellite feed of his general region. According to the satellite, he should have been wading into Lake Victoria by now; the map said he was still some miles away. His quarry, the eponymous Orb base, was on the other side. Dreyson had taken his coat off and loosened his tie; despite his cockpit’s air conditioning running at full power, the African tropics were still warmer than he’d like. About to decide “screw stealth” and simply take flight to get his bearings, he broke through a cluster of mangroves and nearly fell into the body of water that stretched out before him. Deducing that both his paper map and the satellite were worthless, Dreyson simply decided he’d begin making his way around the lake and approach the Orb base from the side. Suddenly, a window appeared on one of his monitors, and a face popped into slightly blurry resolution on it.

“Bly! Where the hell are you?!” Vladimir Antonov demanded, looking exceptionally irate.

“Africa,” Dreyson said flatly, scanning the lake’s horizon.

“Africa?! What the hell are you doing there?!” Vladimir shouted. His normally well-groomed hair looked somewhat disheveled and stressed.

“Just making an expedition,” Dreyson responded. “Heard there was a base near here, thought I’d check it out.”

“Stop screwing around, you candyass!” Vladimir exclaimed. “We’ve got things to do on a time-sensitive basis, and you playing ‘Livingstone and Stanley’ is NOT contributing to their completion! Get your fucking ass to Alaska before I-” Dreyson manually shut off his communications suite.

“Huh,” he said, “seems my radio is broken.” As he began his trek around the lake, a number of dots rising above the trees opposite the lake caught his eye. Each was leaving a smoke trail behind it. Shit… missiles… they must’ve overheard that transmission… Dreyson thought. “Oh well, no point in stealth now.” Firing up his boosters, Dreyson sent his Providence Gundam airborne, intending to close with the base before they were able to further harass him. Dreyson sped out over the lake, throwing up a rooster tail of water vapor behind him. More missiles began rising up over the trees, but these were beginning their descent far more quickly to compensate for his new heading. Suddenly, Dreyson was hearing a lock-on warning. Ten objects were speeding across the lake in his direction, leaving rooster tails of their own.

“Already deployed mobile suits… damn,” Dreyson scowled, making a sharp turn and flying perpendicular to his original direction. The incoming bogeys continued closing with him. Deploying his DRAGOONs, Dreyson abruptly turned to face them directly, opening fire as soon as they entered his combat radius. The DRAGOONs let out a barrage of beams, quickly scattering the black and purple enemy units. Dreyson could now see them with clarity: Taurus, a transformable mobile weapon. On that note, all ten of them shifted into their mobile suit forms, and began responding with beam rifles of their own. “Don’t take me that lightly,” Dreyson said flatly, leveling his beam rifle with them and responding in kind. With his DRAGOONs in concert, Providence was producing an equal amount of firepower to the ten Taurus units circling around him. One drifted into the sights of his Judicium, but was immediately obscured as the missiles launched earlier began raining down around him. Dreyson cursed again, knowing he’d have to get closer to the base or else the missile bombardment would eventually take him out. Suddenly, the ten mobile suits immediately scattered from his position, quickly gaining altitude. Dreyson blinked, knowing full well they wouldn’t just be retreating from his Gundam alone. At that moment, the other shore of the lake seemed to simply cease existing as an enormous beam of white tore across the lake towards him. Dreyson’s pupils shrank and he threw his arms in front of his face to shield his eyes from the blinding brightness. The beam carved a channel through the water and sailed past him, utterly annihilating half of his DRAGOONs and crushing most of the rest with the sheer heat it generated. The beam missed him entirely, but he felt it nonetheless as his monitors briefly filled with static and the Providence’s armor began glowing and deforming like glass being blown. The beam disappeared as quickly as it had materialized, leaving a line of steam rising across the lake.

“Unbelievable…” Dreyson said in a distant tone, his monitors ablaze with warning messages and schematics highlighting damage all over his mobile suit. The Tauruses began closing with his position again, intent on finishing the job. Quickly checking his cockpit’s integrity and finding it to be intact, Dreyson simply shut off his thrusters and dropped into the lake, sinking like a rock. The Tauruses hovered above his last position above the water for a moment, then transformed back into their mobile suit modes and began flying back to the base. Dreyson touched down on the bottom of the lake safely, and began plodding back towards shore with a face full of scowl.

Outcome: Lake Victoria remains
Providence: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Zeta ambushes Gaplant TR-5
By: Perfect Zeong

A pair of dice bounced across the arm of Tristram McDowell’s linear seat, coming to rest on the edge of the panel.

“Eight,” Tristram noted their total, then collected both of them and made another toss; the results were less satisfactory. Tristram frowned. “Ugh, how boring… maybe I should go investigate home’s namesake as long as I’m on Earth…” he began pondering. Before kicking up his mapping program, Tristram decided to make one more toss for good measure; both turned up sixes. Tristram cocked an eyebrow. Almost immediately, his proximity detector began indicating that something potentially hostile was entering his vicinity. “Well now…” he said in a smug tone, maneuvering his Zeta Gundam to get a better view of what approached. It looked like an aircraft of some sort of prodigious speed. His faith in luck renewed, Tristram shouldered his mega launcher and took aim at today’s quarry.

---

Dash Halloway was most pleased with his new mobile weapon. The upgraded Gaplant handled magnificently, and was capable of flight under its own power. And its long beam rifle was nothing to scoff at either.

“Who’d have thought an old model like this would be so fast,” Dash said aloud, resisting the urge to cut his throttle open and go flying across the blue – he’d found out the hard way earlier that the Gaplant’s excellent acceleration was quite dangerous for his physical health. Instead, he opted for an aileron roll, which his mobile suit executed flawlessly. “Hmm… how about this?” Dash stated, starting a Pugachev’s Cobra maneuver. The Gaplant’s nose went vertical and the mobile armor began rapidly losing speed. “Perfect! What a delightful-” Dash was cut off as a pink lance of mega particles streaked where he’d have been a moment later had he continued with level flight. “Shit!”

---

“Curse you, luck!” Tristram growled, re-aligning with his target and firing again, catching only air. Realizing the mega launcher’s rate of fire was simply not going to be sufficient for an air battle, Tristram discarded it and switched over to his beam rifle, firing haphazardly as fast as the weapon would allow.

---

“Just going out for a test run and now this happens,” Dash gritted his teeth. “Figures!” Yanking back on his throttle and depressing a few buttons, the Gaplant’s transformation mechanisms went into action, and the sleek mobile armor reconfigured into a fully-equipped mobile suit. Just as he got his long beam rifle in hands, one of his booster shields intercepted a beam from the attacker below, disintegrating into tiny bits as its fuel exploded. Determined to get the attacker off him, Dash endured through it and fired a retaliatory shot of his own.

---

“Come on, die already!” Tristram muttered. His target was more maneuverable than he first imagined, and his only confirmed hit so far did not have the result he was hoping for. Tristram paused to let his rifle cool for a moment, then took his time to aim precisely, centering the Gaplant’s torso in his reticule. Just as he fired his own rifle, the target’s first retaliatory attack struck his Zeta Gundam in the foot, wrecking its ankle actuator and knocking him forward slightly. “Damn!” he exclaimed as he saw his reticule knocked off target.

---

“Did that get him?” Dash wondered; his attacker was well concealed, and all he was going off was the point of origin of the beams coming towards him. He got his answer soon enough as one more sailed up towards him – perhaps by skill or fluke, it struck his beam rifle. The electrical discharges playing over the undamaged parts immediately alerted Dash that proximity to it in the near future would have consequences; he jettisoned it as quickly as possible. Not quick enough, the long rifle’s e-cap exploded, pelting the Gaplant with shrapnel. One piece lodged itself in his mobile suit’s elbow, and the arm went rigid. “Oh, come on!” Dash groaned. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, and now without his only ranged weapon, Dash reconfigured Gaplant back into its mobile armor mode and set his thrusters as high as he dared to make a quick withdrawl.

---

“Hrm, shows you what for,” Tristram said in a confident manner. The damage indicator highlighting Zeta’s left foot brought his eyes to his dice, which had bounced a few times during the rifle exchange, finally coming to rest on ones. “Oh, shut up!” he proclaimed at them.

Outcome: Zeta wins, Gaplant loses
Zeta: 1 days damage
Gaplant: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Gaia ambushes Akatsuki
By: Maxter

Mhus Dalahk didn’t know where it all went wrong. He knew his plans were solid, and he knew the location of Double X like the back of his hand. And yet, instead of proving the effectiveness of the Akatsuki against one of the most powerful beam weapons in existence, he was crossing the same point he had earlier for the seventh time in a row. It was irksome, even more so because his superiors had plausible deniability. They would never admit to their own fault.

The Akatsuki, equipped with its Owashi Sky pack, trumped through the low hills, golden skin reflecting like the lost Incan city in the dead of night. He knew the disadvantages of traversing in such a scenario, but his target needed the dark. And now the tables had turned – for while he was visible, and seemingly alone in the world, another hunter was targeting him.

“Orb dogs must learn the cost of a coward’s assault,” Xiss murmured, licking her lips slightly as her Gaia prowled in quadruped mode like a cybertronic wolf. After a long moment to get a lock with the targeting computers, she fired her high powered rifle, setting the night afire with its discharge.

The blast hit dead on, yet somehow the beam deflected harmlessly into the landscape meters away.

“What the hell?” Mhus turned about, red eyes wide as he looked around. “Was that the Double X? … No. Not powerful enough. But perhaps it will do.” The Akatsuki’s thrusters fired up as he guided it into a complete turn, returning fire with the Owashi’s beam cannons. His target was the only area that could possibly provide cover to an enemy nearby, and the cannons blanketed that zone. Gaia was ready, however, and the unit pounced forward at full pace, quadruped form so low that the beams veered above it.

“You,” Mhus murmured calmly, adjusting and firing a second and third volley. She would do for now.

“Did you think you could thwart my attempts and not receive retribution?” Xiss replied, the agile Gaia dodging a good deal of the blasts, returning them in kind – despite the fact those shots that hit were deflected off of Akatsuki’s advanced defense. It mattered little as she closed, suddenly switching to biped mode in a blink of an eye, Varija Beam Saber igniting and swiping at the Akatsuki’s side.

With a calm hand, Mhus pushed back his verniers, arm sparking as the beam saber scarred it above the wrist. Fortunately for him, the wound was minor at best, and before Xiss could swing again, her saber was met by Akatsuki’s own.

For a moment there was calm; both suits were locked tight by similar strength. Finally, Akatsuki’s free arm swung forward, bashing its shield into the Gaia’s head. The Phase Shift negated a large part of damage, but inside, Xiss was rattled, losing a firm grip on her controls. She gritted her teeth, and uttered a low curse.

“That was cowardly,” Xiss hissed, breaking off the contact and backpedaling a dozen meters to regroup. She had to be quick; in this battle, her opponent had the advantage in ranged combat. Both of them knew that.

Akatsuki didn’t take long to capitalize, either, opening up with the beam cannons and CIWS. The bullets peppered harmlessly against the Phase Shift Armor, but the larger beams caused singes despite Gaia’s quick movements to dodge. Any attempt by Xiss to close the distance was met with a beam lancing into the ground at her feet, and soon it became clear that Mhus had no intentions of letting the battle get close again.

“Quit hiding!” In a fit of desperation, Xiss threw her ignited saber and proceeded to litter it with CIWS rounds. The resulting explosion lit up the night and burnt at Akatsuki’s exterior – and for a moment, Mhus lost all sight of his opponents. Quickly, and with practiced precision, he rerouted cameras, watching his monitors pep back to life…

… milliseconds before the quadruped form sliced through his head, not quite cutting it completely off, but more causing a diagonal divide across the face. The top half slid off and onto Gaia’s back, a battle trophy she giddily carried home.

“Feel lucky this is the only prize I take from you. We will meet again!” Xiss exclaimed, treading off into the night.

Outcome: Gaia wins, Akatsuki loses
Gaia: 1 days damage
Akatsuki: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Maxter versus Spiegel
By: Stargazer

It was quiet in the desert. It was hot, of course, a crisp sharp sort of hotness that cut through clothes and hair and skin – but it was also quiet. The rolling dunes offered no abatement as far as the eye can see – at least in one direction.

A sound echoed across the sand, blasting away the quiet in its wake, deafening in its volume.

A record scratch.

It was because of these huge dark blocks – they could almost have been buildings, some little extension of the city itself, if not for the smooth, unmarked surface on three sides and the huge wiring emerging from the rear – that this event was taking place outside of Cairo itself. Well, indirectly, at least: the main source of the concern was from the tremendous vibration.

Gundam-sized subwoofers pounded out their deep base. Mixed in a sea of electronic accompaniment, the massive set of speakers literally shook the surrounding sand. Sitting on the middle speaker of the wide arc of the set was a small turntable, surrounded by dials and knobs and equipment, some of it quite advanced. A figure leaned over it, facing behind the speakers, towards the city itself.

A voice boomed out over the dunes, easily audible to everyone within miles.

“It’s hot, mofos! It’s scorching! Daaaamn sons! These beats are FIIIIRE!!” His hands sped the tempo up, sharp motions urging the speakers to spit hot lava. The Captain of this Crunk Cruiser was none other than the Philosopher of Phunk himself, Jayy “The Heat” Krimes, the dirtiest DJ in all of Cairo. His rhymes fueled the crowd, a few hundred thousand strong, dancing in the cooling heat of the setting sun. The party was on in the desert dusk.

The DJ frantically ripped off his white jacket, sweat scattering from the wild hair not trapped by the thick earphone headpiece. A dark face grinned under black sunglasses. This was his kind of evening.

The crowd stretched from the speakers almost all the way back to the city itself. They danced as blue twilight stole over the scene, and night neared. The beat sped up. The main event approached.

Two rivals stood in front of the pounding speakers, oblivious to the deep beat. The Maxter stood leaning slightly to the side, head bobbing up and down to the rhythm, massive arms crossed over its chest.

The host of this party loosened up, swinging his arms in wide arcs and throwing a few exploratory punches. Marcus Ali knew what was up. This was a party, yeah – and man did he love a party. But this was also a Gundam Fight, and despite the pounding funk permeating his limbs, The Pimp wasn’t even close to faking. This was real.

The Game Face crept over Ali’s features, as his dark brow furrowed and his hands passed over his afro. The beats kept dropping, pounding like rain in the desert.

The challenger stood across the semicircle. The Spiegal watched as the heavier gundam warmed up. Inside, Lady Raelin Alexander glanced once more at the paper she held, advertising the challenge she was here to meet. She sighed and placed it into a small compartment in her cockpit.

In Raelin’s viewscreen, the Maxter pointed directly to her.

“Baby,” he started, solemn, “I’m sorry about this, but this is the Gundam Fight and I don’t pull punches, even for the ladies. You know Marcus still loves you. But I will have to slap a bitch around, and I just want you to know I don’t enjoy it. “

He rolled his shoulders, moving unconsciously to the beat. Lady Raelin laughed, a little scornfully.

“I’m a Gundam Fighter. I understand the language of the fists.” Lady Raelin looked slightly confused as another sound joined the throbbing music.

“Oh I know hot thing. But can you understand the language of…the Pimp?”

The Maxter’s feet had begun pounding the hard sand, timed so perfectly to the thud of the bass that the two intertwined and were indistinguishable. His gloves snapped off of his shoulders and on to his fists, closing fast around the Gundam’s hands. He took a few slow swings, testing the weight.

“The music flows in my juices, baby, the Gundam Fight is my soul. Out there I’m Marcus Ali, Grandmaster of Groove, but in this ring I’m a terror, I’m a hurricane, I’m a true brawler.”

“You’re more like a joke,” the woman scoffed. “This is a little ridiculous.”

The Maxter stepped forward in time with the beat, fists raised and ready.

“Baby girl, that’s the last thing you want to be thinking.”

Raelin was surprised. The Maxter moved with unusual grace, sliding up to the darker Spiegal and jabbing twice. The first grazed her Gundam’s face, but the Lady managed to avoid the second. The helmed suit ducked another outstretched, massive fist and flipped a single Spiegal blade into the ready position, quickly driving it up towards the Maxter’s side.

With that same oddly jarring movement, the Maxter swept off to the left, moving out of range of the strike as its feet shuffled over the sand. The speakers kept pounding their rhythm as Marcus punched his opponent hard in the lower back, in position before the Spiegal could even respond.

The air rushed out of Raelin’s lungs, but she retained the presence of mind to grab the Maxter’s fist as it struck.

“Gotcha,” she gasped, laughing breathlessly.

“Baby I TOLD you…” the Maxter’s fist began to glow. With an astounding, sudden strength the Maxter tossed the Spiegal away as though it weighed nothing. Shuffling his body to the pounding beat, Marcus made his way over to where Raelin lay.

The Lady quickly climbed to her feet, astonished at this turn of events. Although the glow was gone, she could still feel the power radiating from the Maxter. With every pulse of the beat, his attacks came on strong. The two Gundams lashed out in rapid strikes, the tempo of the flying fists and feet set to the clear bass. Raelin finally made the connection with what Marcus Ali had said earlier. Her own movements began to sync with the music emanating from the massive speakers. The fight became a dance, a brutal accompaniment to the beats dropping and pounding like rain in the desert. Every electronic thump a resounding ring in Gundanium blared.

“The Gundam Fight burns in my soul, baby” the Pimp grinned as his opponent kept time in this brawl, “now you see.”

Raelin didn’t respond. She was caught up in the power of the music, the thumping and pounding and shaking and battle. Beats dropped like rain. She breathed hot fire. Power radiated from the two souls.

The crowd tore itself apart in a frenzy of bodies and music and sweat, the very sands seeming to jump around them to the pumping of the speakers. DJ Jayy threw off his sunglasses, yelling at the full moon as his hands spun red hot ruin.

“Gundam Fight ready GOOOOOOO!!”

Marcus Ali spun in a low kick, aiming to knock the glowing Spiegal to the ground. Raelin jumped, now drawing both blades and lifting them high. She came down, one weapon carving a line down the arm of the Maxter and the other burying itself in the hard packed sand as Marcus rolled to the side.

The man barely felt the cut, though it sparked fireworks as he wound back and unleashed an uppercut that shattered the air itself with energy. Raelin was on her feet and moving again this time, the music joined by the whirring of her attacks. With the Maxter now on the defensive the two moved across the sands, the sounds of the crowd and the music and the desert swirling together.

Marcus took cuts left and right as he held the Maxter’s gloves over its face. Sparking from several places, the Pimp took advantage of a faster tempo to reverse the charge and slammed his fist into the Spiegal’s gut. Raelin’s eyes widened in surprise and pain. Marcus Ali followed it up with a double jab and an uppercut that connected solidly.

The Spiegal stepped back, the Lady inside stunned as the beat pumped around her. The Maxter shuffled up again, dancing with the power of the Gundam Fight burning in its soul. His opponent readied herself, but it was obvious she was still dazed.

The Maxter ran forward, fists raised, and at the last moment the Spiegal came alive. Leaping up and stabbing her blades into the unprotected shoulders of the boxer suit, she turned and hurled it over the dunes.

Marcus slammed into the ground, the bass thudding its tattoo of vibration.

The Maxter rose, worn and sparking in several places. The will of the Pimp was all that held it up now.

Raelin knew the next clash would be the last. The song was almost over.

Both fighters dashed forward, the Maxter trailing a dark red aura while blue cool flames oozed from the Spiegal’s joints. They led with their fists, Fighter meeting Fighter in a blast of energy and music and strength a dune away from the pumping speakers.

As the dust cleared, DJ Jayy leaned over his table, only the bass thudding in this aftermath. Even the crowd was silent. Over the next dune, a single shadow rose.

The Maxter stood alone, arm missing but head still bobbing as the beats dropped like rain in the desert.

Outcome: Maxter wins, Spiegel loses
Maxter: 2 days damage
Spiegel: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Sword Calamity versus Double X
By: Trent

Winds pushed a lonesome tumbleweed across the dusty plains of the American southwest. The solemn patchwork of twigs and thorns traversed miles, rolling by patches of dried grass, through forests of flowering cacti, and over sun-dried ground. Only when it came to an unnatural blue and white rampart did the journey stop.

Double X and Sword Calamity towered over the otherwise flat terrain, standing silent while their respective pilots faced each other from open cockpits. “Thanks for coming,” Alexie of the Calamity smiled his appreciation. While short in stature, his confident guise gave him the appearance of an otherwise more intimidating man.

“Thanks for the challenge,” across the way, Lance Mithaniel tossed his suit’s G-controller back and forth between either hand.

“No problem. Shall we?” Alexie didn’t wait for a response; taking a few steps back, he disappeared into his mobile suit’s chest.

“Guess so,” Lance did the same. Walls closed around the Legacy soldier, his forward view screens turning on but remaining completely black. A single white cursor blinked in contrast to the background. It waited for the young pilot to place his G-controller into position, and then suddenly all the world became visible. With a whirr, his front and side screens showed Sword Calamity’s hands reaching over their shoulders to draw both anti-ship swords.

Humming to life, the twin weapons were so large they seemed almost unwieldy. Yet their master had little trouble hoisting them out to either side, turning the Sword Calamity into a glowing cross. “On your mark,” Alexie closed his eyes and remembered his training. One day, he would face Knights – for now, he needed to build strength for the coming purge.

Lance knew a melee brawl would be completely to his disadvantage, so instead of replying with a hyper beam sword, Double X gripped tight its buster rifle and hoisted up its opposite arm’s defense palette to protect the chest cockpit. “Mark!” he initiated their dance.

Muzzle flare lit up the Double X’s multi-launchers, joined only a half-second later by a spray of bullets from its vulcans. The ballistics converged on Sword Calamity, which chose to charge head-on into their deadly swarm. Sensors in the red suit’s armor activated its Trans-Phase properties, and the attacks pinged harmlessly off into the ground.

One foot ahead of the other, Calamity pounded over the Earth, quickly closing the gap between foes. Frantically, Double X belted out several green beams from its buster – the first went wide left, another just missed its target’s face (so close some aesthetic armor melted), and a third actually managed to go in between its legs. Ground exploded behind the oncoming suit, but Alexie kept his courage. Waiting for the right moment, he brought Calamity’s outstretched arms inwards, both gigantic swords coming together like closing scissors with Double X in their center.

“Shit!” unabashedly cursing, Lance unfurled his rear wings and kicked up off the dry soil in a flash of blue light. Double X narrowly avoided certain bisection by leaping above the heavy attack. It carried forward in the air, actually “jumping” over Sword Calamity. Buster rifle pointing down, several more green lances impacted the ground around Calamity, the last of their number pegging its left shoulder and blasting the armor plating and beam boomerang to shreds.

Rocked by the impact, Alexie gritted his teeth and spun his mobile weapon around to the left. The right-hand’s Gewehr sword swung hard for the Double X as it landed; the white and blue Gundam had only seconds to react by sacrificing its defense palette against the attack. With the full force of Calamity’s strength behind it, the sword sliced clean through the raised shield, carrying on to bite into Double X’s side. “Ha!” Alexie broke his calm with a personal congratulations.

“Not so fast!” Lance grinned, raising his buster rifle point-blank into his enemy’s chest.

Both combatants were locked together, one’s sword tasting flesh, the other’s rifle prepared to strike a critical blow.

---

High above either pilot, hovering on its intense thrusters, Tallgeese II waited for an opportune moment to strike. Inside, the Angel of Iblis brought a normal-suit gloved hand to rest over his chest. He imagined he could feel the scar, even beneath such thick material. It brought this acolyte closer to his god.

“I am willed to defeat all infidels,” he spoke softly, reverently. Memories of the embarrassing, almost blasphemous stalemate with Sword Calamity several days ago played within Feyd Aurion’s mind. To erase his sin of failure, blood must be drawn on this day.

Tallgeese II took aim with its dobergun. “Guide these shots,” he prayed. “Let your will carry through my hands.”

---

“Your move,” Lance said. He knew his position was precarious. Double X could easily bore a hole through the opposite duelist and shut it down, but probably not before Calamity cloud drive that blade through his cockpit.

Alexie leaned forward, beads of perspiration ripped from his forehead by gravity, splashing on his control panel. He wanted desperately not to finish in a second draw, but knew he couldn’t sacrifice honor by killing this Legacy pilot. His hands would one day run red with Imperial blood, but the pirates were more a nuisance than a threat.

Little did he know, Feyd Aurion had already made the decision of who would emerge victorious.

Screaming down from the heavens, Tallgeese II loosed a barrage of shells from its dobergun. The projectiles fell hard, smashing into the ground about their targets, kicking up a storm of dust and ejectile that threw Double X and Sword Calamity apart. Unfortunately for Lance, his suit was also pegged by a dead-on hit to its head. Static replaced the images on his forward cameras as the Gundam fell onto its back. He could only hear, rather than see, his wings and backpack verniers crushed beneath the mobile suit’s own weight.

“I give you one opportunity for salvation,” Feyd spat, his brow furrowing into a glare. “Repent, and follow the way of Iblis, or I shall show you along that path with my saber.” Abandoning its bazooka-like cannon, Tallgeese II grabbed for a beam saber and willed the blade to life as a tube of pink plasma.

“Crap, you again?” having not been thrown to the ground like the Double X, Sword Calamity stood upright and ready to defend. It took three thruster-assisted skips backwards before raising its Schwartz Gewehrs into a defensive-X.

Descending on twin columns of gigantic thrust, Feyd’s white humanoid machine landed softly – resembling the vengeful angel it truly was – between the downed Double X and its true query. “What do you say, infidel?”

“Sorry, but I’ve found my path. Shinigami is the terror which guides my blades, and soon the Lunar Empire will know her name. If you stand in my way, so shall you.” Calamity’s arms separated to its sides; Alexie fired his chest-mounted Scylla cannon, the attack emerging as a massive white and red beam.

“Perfect,” Feyd sneered. Barrel-rolling right, he charged parallel to the horizontal pillar of deadly light and screamed directly for Sword Calamity. Tallgeese’s pink beam saber drew back and came down in a hard arch, effortlessly removing his target’s left arm at the exposed shoulder joint. The appendage fell to the ground, its sword simultaneously going dark.

Calamity stopped fire from its Scylla, pouring all its might into a replying blow with its remaining melee weapon. The weapon slammed into the Tallgeese’s shoulder-mounted shield, causing the round barrier to split in two, thought it stopped most of the attack’s momentum and freed Feyd to counter by swatting his saber at Alexie’s left leg – it sliced cleanly through, sending Calamity sprawling face-first into the ground. Before he could capitalize, however, Tallgeese found itself pegged by three well-placed beams from the Double X’s buster rifle.

“Get the hell away from him!” Lance shouted. Visuals rerouted to its chest cameras, Double X had perfect view of Tallgeese II within its sights. Several more potent beams ignited the air, searing into their target, and were joined shortly after by vulcan and machinecannon fire. Unlike Alexie’s unit, Feyd’s sported no inherent immunity to ballistic rounds. Tallgeese II found itself punctured by burning lead in a number of areas before it could take flight. Only seconds after, Double X’s barrels whistled, signifying they’d run out of ammunition.

“Valiant effort,” Feyd congratulated. “You would make a welcome addition to the Angels of Iblis.” From its position some twenty meters above the Earth’s surface, Tallgeese II hovered damaged-yet-operational as it stared down the Double X.

“I thought we told you to keep your pamphlets.” Alexie’s voice crackled back over the COMM system. Missing half its limbs, Sword Calamity still managed to shift position enough to bring the Scylla cannon pointed at his mark – this time the targeting computer beeped with a firm lock on the enemy. Double X did quite the same with its buster rifle, just enough power remaining for a few good shots.

“Fine, but this is far from over,” Feyd promised, turning around and leaving the battlefield.

Outcome: Double X and Sword Calamity win, Tallgeese II loses
Double X: 2 days damage
Sword Calamity: 3 days damage
Tallgeese II: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Xi versus Belphagor
By: Perfect Zeong

“Any further movement of those unidentified vessels?” Lassiter Benoit inquired, taking in the view of Earth from his Nerevarine’s bridge.

“Negative, sir,” the observation officer reported. “The ones that have been there since we began orbiting are holding their positions. No signs of further activity.”

“Hmm,” Lassiter noted. “Good. Any new contacts?”

“Negative,” the officer stated. “Oh, standby…” he said, examining one of the monitors at his duty station. “Ah, correction, a mobile suit with a Lunar IFF signal is approaching from Earth. Looks like the last one of your guests, sir.”

“Oh, swell,” Lassiter stated. “Open up a channel so we can guide Tyr in.”

“He’s beaten us to it; we’re being hailed right now,” the communications officer said. Lassiter cocked an eyebrow and gestured to accept. Tyr Alexander’s face, along with a small illustration of the Belphagor in the corner, appeared on one of the large screens.

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “I still haven’t forgiven you for so grievously misappropriating my Belphagor’s arm in our bout at the headquarters!”

“Well, it was there, wasn’t it?” Lassiter replied, thinking back to how the Belphagor’s severed arm and heat wires had won him the duel against his sister’s Penelope a few days before.

“That’s no excuse!” Tyr scoffed. “Launch your Gundam and we’ll come to a more appropriate conclusion!” Lassiter frowned.

“I just got it fixed before heading up here, do we really have to beat it up again?” he asked.

“Yes!” Tyr declared, shutting off his communications feed. Lassiter mumbled something under his breath before heading towards the bridge’s doors.

“Ready the Xi for launch!”

---

The Archangel-class’ catapult flung the Xi into open space, with Earth providing a scenic blue backdrop. Tyr’s Belphagor had closed to the Nerevarine’s proximity and had already deployed its strike claws, eager to resume their duel that had (for Tyr) so abruptly ended on Earth.

“There you are! Have at you!” Tyr exclaimed, firing up his boosters and beginning to close the distance with Lassiter’s Xi. Knowing full well the power of the myriad monomolecular wires in the Belphagor’s arms, Lassiter was determined to stay at range for as long as possible. Activating his psycommu system, Lassiter began discharging his funnel missiles.

“Sorry to trump you so early,” Lassiter said, sending the psyco-missiles towards the oncoming Belphagor, “but I really don’t want to smash Xi up again.” Tyr fully felt out his mobile suit with its Flash system and ignited his beam sabers, swatting the oncoming missiles down before they could cause any serious damage. One nearly struck a claw, shrapnel from it disabling the pincer’s actuators. Tyr quickly retracted both claws and popped open the covers for his triple sonic smashers, letting off a blast at the Xi. They struck home, but were negated by its beam barrier – barely. The barrier’s strength indicator announced that the hit from the Belphagor’s main weapon had nearly depleted it, which shocked Lassiter to a degree. Damn! That gun is more powerful than I thought… can’t get hit again, he reflected.

“What’s wrong?” Tyr asked in a mocking tone. “Your Gundam not work in space?” Tyr fired a pair of shots from his knee-mounted atomic scissors, then unfolded his claws again and surged forward.

“Just getting the feel for it again, that’s all!” Lassiter responded, committing his entire missile reserve, including the remaining funnel missiles, into a single barrage. Tyr again defeated some of them, but the remainder broke through, wrecking both of the Belphagor’s claws.

“Are you satisfied now?” Lassier inquired. Didn’t even have to bust it up at all, he thought to himself, fully pleased with the outcome.

“Not quite yet!” Tyr replied enthusiastically, jettisoning both of the ruined claws and throwing his mobile suit’s arms open. Lassiter was confused for a moment, but a series of telltale twinkling lights around both arms immediately refreshed his memory.

The monomolecular wires! Lassiter thought. In an instant the Belphagor was on him, and with a sweep of its arms, one of the Xi’s legs and the tips of both binders were beginning to drift away from him.

“Dammit, not again!” Lassier howled. Furious, he fired both his mega beam cannons into the Belphagor, slagging both of its forearms and the bases of the wires along with them. Without his claws and wires, Tyr was left with his sonic smasher cannons and the atomic scissors, both of which might have been able to win him the battle at this range. However, with the possibility of destroying both mobile suits, Tyr decided to concede.

“Fine,” he said. “I suppose that makes us even from the other day.”

Outcome: Xi wins, Belphagor loses
Xi: 2 days damage
Belphagor: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Gaia versus Wing Zero versus Jester versus Maxter
By: Trent

Explosions sparked into colored light, littering blue and red and greens across the cerulean evening sky. A convocation fifty thousand strong roared in the coliseum stands. Below them, Maxter emerged from a mobile-suit sized tunnel, materializing from the dark passageway with gloves already thrust into the air. Marcus De La Ali Jr. III joined his three opponents already on the battlefield, having arrived almost too late to participate in Annapolis Corporation’s newly annualized Charity Mecha Maul.

“The Titan of Triumph has arrived!” an announcer’s voice cracked from excitement. “The man, the myth, the lover!”

Coliseum lights went black, save for a single beam of illumination that followed Maxter to the center of the earthen arena. “You know Marcus never misses a charity event! Community service, baby. Community service!”

Fresh off its victory against Spiegel yesterday, Maxter had been called in by Annapolis to spruce up the festival. Few gladiators had met the challenge, and without a big name like Marcus, ticket sales were paltry at best. But now the big wigs could rest easy, and save face. The solar system’s greatest celebrity was here to save the day!

Mthunzi Ying snarled. Safely tucked away from the idiocy inside Wing Zero’s cockpit, she took solace in the notion that less than a minute from now, she’d lose control to a rampaging killing machine that would no doubt massacre not only Marcus, but the entirety of conjoined peoples. “Well, maybe that’s a bit harsh,” she mused. “Better not kill all of them…” Her suit stood with twin buster rifle gripped in the right hand, buster shield hoisted in its left.

Across the battlefield, Ariel Samon’s mobile trace system finished wrapping itself around her slight, aerobatic frame. She held a smile, despite being sore from the process. Sure, only two other fighters answered her fax, but both were state-of-the-art machines. To gather data on Wing Zero and Gaia (and even Maxter) would make her the envy of Annapolis Corporation’s tech development division. “Almost time,” she remarked, looking up to a gigantic scoreboard on the eastern stadium wall. It ticked down from one minute…

Xiss Blaire Nikolov didn’t concern herself with the crowd, or the time, or the glory. She sat solemn, a slight smile twisting the edge of her mouth. Being inside Gaia felt right; it was right. Behind closed eyelids, her vision looked upon her dear sister in memories. “I’ll win this for you,” she whispered, almost tearing up. “So one day, maybe…” the words trailed off, her hands gripped tighter on the mobile suit’s controls. Eyes opened to look at the crowd. They’d fallen silent; she knew it was time.

“00:05…” the number ticked away. “00:04…” another down. “00:03…” everyone remained breathless. “00:002…”

Mthunzi’s essence became one with her mobile suit. Streams of data flooded her mind. Her eyes became solid glass, staring at nothing. She saw through the Gundam’s cameras. Wing Zero dropped its shield, separating the barrels of its buster rifle and taking them in both hands. Arms stretched out to either side, the weapons an extension of their span. Aimed at nothing in particular, they waited…

“00:01…”

Marcus quirked his left brow; Maxter stood ready in its corner, fists and stance that of a classic boxer. No longer were the lights focused on just him. He could relax a little bit and enjoy this fight.

“00:00.”

The crowd erupted! Three of the four gladiators sprinted into action, Gaia in humanoid form tearing both its Varja beam sabers from the waist and igniting their twin blades as it charged to meet Maxter and Jester as they converged. The mobile fighters were naturally skilled in melee, concentrating on rushing into the fray rather than brandishing deadly implements. When the three got close, Jester leapt into the air and twisted to land behind Gaia. Simultaneously, Gaia and Maxter smashed into one another – Marcus crossed both wrists together to catch the Gaia’s own forearms as they attempted to come down hard with the glowing swords. Seizing the opportunity, Ariel made a spinning sweep at Gaia’s legs, sending the suit tumbling down.

“Not bad,” Marcus took a few steps back from the sprawled-out transformable Gundam, only to see Jester hop over Xiss’s unit and come at Maxter with both fists reared back and ready to punch. Shifting his weight rearwards, Marcus waited for just the right moment. When the lesser experienced Gundam Fighter tried to strike, his lightning-fast fist jabbed in between her punches and connected solidly with Jester’s head. The entire unit fell to the ground, right atop Gaia.

“Pimp smacked! Pimp smacked! Pimp smacked!” the crowd cheered. Always ready to please his fans, Maxter did a back flip and landed in splits, immediately jumping back up and twisting around to face the Wing Zero.

Yellow power crackled at the buster rifle ends, drawing into the weapon for a split-second, before two colossal streams of red and golden energy belched forth. It wasn’t aimed at Maxter, or the downed girls. No, these shots went directly into the stands. The first fans didn’t have time to scream – they vanished in less than a blink. Others tried to escape, but Wing Zero methodically twisted its body, running the continuous streams of death along every seat and section of the coliseum. Maxter was forced to duck, lest it too be consumed. Soon, all that remained of the structure was the battlefield.

“Oh my God…” Ariel was otherwise speechless. The same could be said for Marcus and Xiss. All three of their mobile suits sat up, attentions drawn to Wing Zero.

Not phased by its mass-murder, Mthunzi’s machine trained its sights on what three life signs remained. Discarding the twin buster rifle sections, it chose only a beam saber. Bulbous wings spread out, and the Zero sped for their position on two contrails of effervescent thruster wash.

“Get up and move!” Marcus was the first to snap out of shocked catatonia. Gaia and Jester didn’t need to be told twice; they scurried away, Xiss transforming into quadruped mode as she bolted towards the smoldering rubble that once housed thousands of adoring spectators.

Maxter stayed. Ankles planted firmly in the ground, Marcus began to draw energy from the pit of his stomach. It traveled from gut, to heart, to lungs, to arms. There, it flowed down his fists and began to crackle over Maxter’s right glove. “Burning Punch!” he cried. The mobile fighter threw its clenched hand forward, a whirling tornado of flames shooting outward, dashing parallel to the ground.

“I will kill you all!” Mthunzi didn’t take note of the threat – it wasn’t sufficient to deter her charge, or sacrifice the mission. Wing Zero’s plunged into the inferno, Gundanium warping and melting like wax. It didn’t stop; its powerful verniers pushed forward, beam saber poised to deliver a killing blow to Marcus’s cockpit…

... but it was thrown away at the last minute as Jester plunged into the fires feet-first, all of its weight serving to deliver a magnificent blow that sent Wing Zero a few meters sideways. Even so, Mthunzi managed to correct her trajectory enough to swat at Maxter’s head. The Gundam-sized cranium fell clean off, rolling to the arena floor. Decapitated, the fighter’s programming kicked in, and it went silent – a statue frozen amidst clashing titans.

“Holy crap,” Ariel’s eyes were wide with pain; her entire body felt like it’d been lit on fire. Jester once again found itself knocked down, but the former gymnast pushed elegantly up, coming to a crouching position. Its head turned to face Wing Zero, which now saw Ariel as the biggest impediment to victory.

Before Mthunzi’s soulless hands could guide a second charge to her newest target, however, ZERO spoke to her on Gaia’s position. The animalistic mobile weapon had attempted to creep along the battlefield’s perimeter and attack from behind – a mistake Xiss realized almost too late. Without bothering to turn around, Wing Zero jabbed backwards – its beam saber stabbed through the end of the high energy beam rifle, the heat liquefying its barrel.

“No!” Xiss grimaced, all four legs backpedaling to get out of melee range. Reacting instantly, the Wing twirled around and opened up with machinecannon fire. Only two bullets hit the Gaia before ZERO realized its armor made the rounds insignificant, and cut the ballistics short. Xiss capitalized on this one blunder to depress the trigger on her twin MA-81R assault cannons. Lances of pink energy caught her target square in its chest, the armor already weakened from taking Maxter’s earlier ultimate attack. Plating and gears sprayed everywhere, metal and sparks becoming shrapnel that pinged off the Gaia.

This wound seemed only to infuriate Wing Zero. Inside, Mthunzi’s face twisted into an expression of utter hatred. Her suit dashed forward, drawing a second beam saber and unleashing a flurry of melee attacks that sliced its foe’s snout, then cannons, then legs, and finally both wing binders. Xiss couldn’t get away; her quadruped mobile weapon lost balance and keeled over onto its side. She glanced up, eyes reflecting the points of two glowing sabers directly poised to impale.

“Burning Attack!” a female scream came from across the stadium. Ariel Samon’s voice championed an almost perfect copy of Marcus’s earlier ultimate attack. A pulsating, powerful river of fire washed over the heat-scarred Wing Zero. Its armor exploded this time, even the heat-resistant Gundanium incapable of withstanding a second onslaught of chi-fueled flames. When finally the attack subsided, it stood smoldering, smoke rising off of every melted joint. Mthunzi struggled with her controls, but none responded – her mobile weapon became much like the Maxter: a monument, silent as stone, erected to remember the lives it had ended.

Inside Jester, Ariel’s bloodshot eyes rolled into the back of her head. The strain of channeling an attack she wasn’t nearly ready to perform caused the girl to throw up, and pass out only a few seconds later.

Outcome: Jester wins, Wing Zero and Maxter and Gaia lose
Jester: 3 days damage
Wing Zero: 4 days damage
Maxter: 2 days damage
Gaia: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Penelope versus Victory 2
By: Perfect Zeong

Lassiter Benoit stood atop a catwalk in his Nerevarine’s hangar, observing the repairs to Xi Gundam from the duel the day before. Lassiter had ordered a launch to quickly retrieve the Xi’s leg before it drifted too far into the Earth’s gravity well, and it was presently being re-attached. Much to his pleasure, the Belphagor’s heat wires had made a perfectly clean cut, which had significantly reduced the time and effort it would take to fix it. Lassiter began taking a moment to consider his long term plans, but was quickly interrupted by a klaxon and flashing lights indicating that the hangar was going to open and be exposed to vacuum shortly.

“Someone launching?” he said aloud, making for a pressurized control/observation room. By the time he’d safely situated himself inside, the answer was fairly obvious: his sister’s Penelope was displayed on a monitor, the suit inside the Archangel-class’s catapult tunnel, preparing to launch. Lassiter picked up a handset from a control panel in front of him and put it to his ear. “Monique, what’s going on? Did they pick up a bandit or something?” Penelope’s head turned a bit to observe him.

“Bandit? No, Astrophel’s coming up from Earth,” Monique replied, fastening her helmet’s seals. “Figured I’d go up and ‘greet’ him, you follow?”

“Greet him? Oh, right,” Lassiter said, realizing the context. “Why?”

“Well, all the ‘cool kids’ are doing it…” Monique quipped, referring to Lassiter’s bout with Tyr Alexander’s’ Belphagor the other day. Lassiter quirked an eyebrow, but chose not to continue questioning her motives at the risk of being reminded at the trashing he’d received before Tyr conceded the match to him. Penelope was secured by the catapult, and after the “three” signaled all clear, the large-scale mobile suit was propelled out the open door and into space.

---

Care for a zero gravity spar? Be looking forward to it. Astrophel Govannon thought about the message he’d received from Monique earlier; it was certainly a little odd. On the other hand, after the indignities he’d suffered in the brawl at Platinum Stronghold, he was certainly willing to entertain the idea of a duel outside Lassiter’s ship. At least for a little while, anyway… the Victory 2 did not technically belong to him, and after the beating the other day, he was more than a little loathe to get smashed up again.

An indicator stated that he was now clear of Earth’s atmosphere, and that he should switch over to the Minovsky drive as his M-craft system would no longer provide thrust. Following through with the Victory 2’s recommendations, he began scanning the “horizon” for the Nerevarine’s beacon. It didn’t take him long to spot a blinking light, which he believed to be signaling him via Morse code. Astrophel signaled back, blinking the Victory 2’s eyes.

“Astrophel! Glad you could make it,” a voice crackled over his radio. It sounded vaguely like Monique’s, but was very badly garbled by interference. “Still up for this thing?”

“I believe I am,” Astrophel replied simply.

“Good,” she responded. “Alright, defend yourself!” The signal was cut off on her end. Astrophel readied his beam rifle and began much more intense observation of his surroundings. He sensed a brief psyco-pressure from 11 o’clock, relative to the Nerevarine, but it quickly disappeared. Ah hah! Astrophel thought, lining up his beam rifle and firing twice at the source. His pink shots quickly disappeared from view, and he was rewarded with two explosions in the distance. Was that it? he thought. No! Astrophel immediately gained relative altitude. A moment later, a barrage of missiles streaked under his previous position, exploding some distance behind him. Alright, that was fun. Now, where are you… he thought, trying to sense out Monique’s psyco-pressure again. Suddenly, he found it again – or rather, it seemed to find him. Either way, that same pressure was now coming from 3 o’clock relative to the Nerevarine, and it seemed to be closing with him. Deciding to entertain the notion, Astrophel began proceeding ahead at full speed, wings of light and all.

It only took him a moment to realize something was amiss. He didn’t seem to be feeling the psyco-pressure from one source, but a whole number of them at once. Instantly he thought back to the end of his battle with Penelope on Earth – his suspicions were confirmed a second later as what he presumed to be the Penelope’s entire arsenal of funnel missiles was rapidly closing with him.

“Not this time,” Astrophel fumed, coming immediately to a halt. He slapped his beam rifle onto a hardpoint, powered on both beam shields, and waited. The missiles spread out and began closing on him from front, sides, above and below. Perfect, he thought. As the funnel missiles were about to blast him into oblivion, Astrophel activated his Minovsky drive and quite literally every single apogee motor, performing a full 360-degree turn on all three axes. Between the beam shield and wings of light, all but a single missile were detonated prematurely. The final one struck the Victory 2 in the back, causing one of the wing emitters to fizzle and become inoperative. His paint was scorched and the blast effects had dented his armor in a few places, but by and large the Victory 2 remained intact. “You’re not going to get me with those again, Monique,” Astrophel proclaimed, shutting off his beam shields and retrieving his rifle.

“Okay,” Monique said rather politely via transmission. The destruction of the funnel missiles left a scattering of Monique’s psyco-pressure all around Astrophel, which had masked her approach until just now. A single beam poked through the cloud of debris, puncturing the Victory 2’s shoulder and exiting cleanly out the back. Astrophel took aim with his rifle in the direction the assault came. The Penelope, beam rifle raised, emerged from the dissipating cloud. Aside from the very large rifle pointed at him, Astrophel noted a chunk missing from its arm and a scorch around that shoulder – evidently one of the missiles he’d nailed earlier hadn’t gotten far from the Penelope’s body.

“Hello, Monique, nice to see you again,” Astrophel stated flatly.

“Same to you, Astrophel,” Monique responded. Both Gundams remained with weapons pointed at each others’ heads for several moments. Then, the standoff evaporated just as quickly as it began.

“That’s a nice ship Lassiter’s got there,” Astrophel noted.

Outcome: Draw
Victory 2: 2 days damage
Penelope: 1 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Great Minds Think Alike
By: Trent

Sol pulsated chaotically against a backdrop of nothingness. Its presence filled known space with warmth, and alternatively, its wrath could be felt by those bodies foolish enough to persist so near to the star. Mercury was one such victim, forever bound by its mother’s wrath, basking in an infernal hatred and scorn while greater siblings gave birth to life thousands of kilometers away.

Yet – as with all things – humanity strove to tame this region and become master of its territory. No greater than six colonial and military outposts dotted Mercury’s cratered surface, and even fewer ships hung around in the volatile space nearby. One vessel, a white mare charging across the vacuum, dipped into the planet’s insubstantial atmosphere on a trajectory for Horizon Line.

Aboard the Pegasus-class, Charlie tensed his muscles, hardening his entire body as the cockpit came to life. Two rings above the Gundam fighter’s head began to spin, one remaining glued to the ceiling, another twisting downwards to envelope the man in a skintight, shiny material. Strain on his body was great; the mobile trace suit threatened to pull him down to the ground, but Cordova maintained his stance. As soon as it began, the process ended; the pilot was encased from neck-down in a mesh of sensors that transmitted every minutiae of movement to the Jack in Diamond’s frame.

“Good to go,” Charlie mused, taking several steps forward to plant his suit’s feet in Gold Doubloon’s right launch catapult. He looked to the ceiling, waiting for a set of lights to flash from red to green. “Doubloon, listen to Messaoud as soon as we’ve launched,” he thought of Hildolfr’s pilot, who had already been dropped off five miles back and was ready to initiate their strategy. He thought of the access codes stolen from Altara, and knew their entire plan rested on that information. He thought of Saviour and Zanspine, two other members of Drake’s Legacy after his own query. Yet when the lights did finally signal green, these thoughts were washed from his mind. His focus went to the battlefield – it would be a training grounds for his true mission. “Jack Thompson, launching!”

Simultaneously, CT Weaver loosened and tightened the grip on his control levers. He could feel the heat, even inside his mobile suit. This certainly wasn’t right. Sweat dribbled down his forehead; armpits began to reek from dampness. Unable to take the pressure any longer, he ripped off his helmet and gasped for air.

-----STARGAZER _What’s wrong?

Blinking behind fog-filled goggles, CT focused on a tiny black screen mounted on the cockpit wall to his right. The green letters seemed concerned; they made him feel okay again.

-----USER _Nothing. I’m fine.

Reassured by Hollistic Gundam’s companionship, the hallucinating pilot pointed his controls towards the launch catapult and mounted its stirrups. Like Cordova, he watched for the green light – but he afforded the bridge crew no notice of launch. Stargazer burst forward at full speed down the tunnel, the interior lights of Gold Doubloon fading against the bright red skies ahead.

Off his right, CT saw Jack in Diamond leap from the catapult at last second, its form twisting into a perfect kite that broke at top speed towards Horizon Line (appropriately) over the horizon. Instead of following suite, Stargazer simply fell off the ship’s edge. It tumbled and twisted, pulled by Mercury’s sparse gravity towards the planet’s surface. Only when satisfied he wasn’t on fire did CT engage the unit’s advanced propulsion, causing it to jerk to an instant-stop only moments before impact.

-----STARGAZER _See? All fine.

CT righted the mobile weapon and took off in Jack in Diamond’s wake.

* * *

“You have our instructions?” Elric Tchaikovsky pulled at the wrist of his normal suit, getting a feel for the snug outfit as he stood below his newly acquired Saviour in Horizon Line’s hangar.

Dylan Bennett stood behind him, blue eye’s piercing gaze fixed upon her Zanspine standing opposite the Saviour, its brown brother shrouded by a lock of her red hair. Spread out in a semi-circle around the two Drake’s Legacy members was a squadron of green eared, bright eyed Orb pilots. They all nodded at Elric’s question; Dylan couldn’t help but grin at their trust.

“Then we’ll be launching. Don’t worry about our positions when firing the cannons – we can dodge, their ship can’t.”

With that final command, the throng of recruits dispersed, each rushing to check last minute preps on their Leo mass-productions. Dylan and Elric were left alone, the man turning to face his shorter ally. “They bought it,” he couldn’t help but join Dylan in her smile.

“Who’da thought the laddies on ‘OME would come through?”

Elric nodded. He thought back to their journey – how cryptic instructions on how to gain Horizon Line’s trust randomly arrived in his inbox en route. Though Elric was suspicious at first, it was the unmistakable signature of a Dystopian Snowman. Upon getting to the base, all had worked out, and here they stood, about to face off against an attack group with the entire installation’s forces at their command. Almost too easy.

“Okay, no reason to blow this by being late. Hop into the Zanspine and let’s make our mysterious benefactor proud, shall we?”

“Aw’right then. Just you keep up, y’hear!?”

“Will do,” Elric couldn’t help but stare as Dylan skipped over to her mobile suit. How he’d come by such a character was beyond his fragmented memory.

* * *

Watching Jack in Diamond and Stargazer course away across the skies, Messaoud Naceri had a feeling of déjà vu. Hildolfr’s long, short frame was hidden inside one of the many craters on Mercury’s surface. Only its cannon was exposed, as he looked into the machine’s blue-tinted periscope monitor to map firing solutions across the soon-to-be battlefield.

“There’s our baby.” He got a glimpse of Gold Doubloon backpedaling towards his position; soon enough, the ship’s shadow had passed over Hildolfr and landed in another, larger ditch not far behind. Only its bridge and 580mm cannons were left uncovered, and these too sat ready to pick up targets.

“Glad to see someone listens to me…” he chortled. “Now, to get things rolling…”

Tapping the mic in his helmet, the jovial pilot opened up a communications with Horizon Line. “Testing, testing…” his first few words bounced back at him. “Gah, dammit! Stupid mechanics didn’t wire this thing right…” he flipped one switch down, the other up. “Here we go.”

“Calling Horizon Line. This is the vessel Gold Doubloon.”

No response.

“Again, Horizon Line, this is the carrier Gold Doubloon. We have reason to believe two rogue agents are about to attack your installation with prototype mobile suits. They hit Altara a couple weeks ago, and we’ve been dispatched to hunt them down. Transmitting FOF identification now…”

The line crackled in absence of a reply. Messaoud was growing frustrated. “One last time Horizon Line. If you all want to die, be our guests. But—“

Little did he know, these “rogue agents” had already contacted Horizon Line with genuine Orb codes as well. What’s more, they had informed the base commander this oncoming group was responsible for the destruction of Altara. Things were not going to go as planned…

Two points of light blinded Hildolfr’s periscope.

* * *

Horizon Line’s twin cannons rotated their domed heads. Above their position, Zanspine and Saviour whisked into the air, latter transforming to flight mode, former trailing three pink wings of light as she picked up speed and charged at full yield towards Jack in Diamond and Stargazer. Moving slower, a group of ten Leos fanned out and started running across the pocketed terrain. Sporting all manner of deadly implements, their pilots said quick prayers and remembered the training simulators.

“Something isn’t right…” Charlie looked at the oncoming troops and allowed a hint of worry to play on his voice. Seeing the installation’s two main guns turn their barrels in his direction didn’t help his confidence. “Oh crap…”

“Dodge,” CT gave the laconic suggestion. Stargazer dipped low, dropping dozens of meters instantaneously. Jack in Diamond tipped its pointed nose upwards, lifting higher into the sky as its pilot used his own life energies to bolster thruster performance.

On the other end, Dylan Bennett’s Newtype prescience alerted her to the firing cannons. “Get o’ffa ma wing!” she shouted.

Saviour and Zanspine split left and right, just in time to avoid vaporization from behind. Aiming into the sky, Horizon Line’s cannons lit up with mega particles before unleashing twin floods of white light. The deadly javelins traversed the distance in a split-second, but went high and low of Jack in Diamond and Stargazer.

Charlie felt a singe of heat on the soles of his feat. Simple proximity to the attacks had left a painful burn on Jack in Diamond’s underbelly, but it wasn’t enough to deter him from the goal ahead. “Alright CT, this doesn’t change anything. You hit Saviour, I’ll take Zanspine. Messaoud, concentrate fire on those cannons!”

“Sure thing boss!” Hildolfr’s pilot responded, relaying the order to Pegasus. “Get a targeting solution on the right cannon, I’ll finish off the left. On my mark, fire…” The tank’s auto-loader sifted through its large munitions stores until coming upon the appropriate shell, cramming the bronze-colored projectile into its breach. Messaoud returned attention to his periscope; a white reticule in the visor’s center bounced back and forth around the cannons, until finally it came to rest on the intended target.

“Mark!” the order was given. Hildolfr loosed its mortar-like shell, followed a split-second later by an eruption from Gold Doubloon’s weapons.

Screaming at super-sonic speeds, the two shots traversed Mercury’s craggy plains in the span of seconds and hit true within Horizon Line’s compound. Both cannons went up in balls of fiery gas, their destruction igniting flames across the perimeter.

“Haha! Nice one, Naceri!” Charlie saw the plumes and couldn’t help a quick celebration. “Now it’s our turn.”

Jack in Diamond transformed in mid-flight, its frame contorting to change back into humanoid shape as it drew closer to the Zanspine and Saviour. In response, the two enemies broke off from one another, the red fighter driving down to meet Stargazer, while the winged suit continued straight-on for an engagement with Cordova.

CT stopped dead upon seeing the Saviour dip towards his position. Ahead, trudging across the ground, Leos raised their machinecannons to a firing position and opened up with machineguns. The rounds went wide, and CT ignored their presence as he activated his all-encompassing beam barriers. Stargazer’s head craned up to stare down the red fighter.

“Must be a kid like those Leo pilots,” Elric smirked as he pulled the trigger and loosed twin pikes from his plasma beam cannons. The super-heated energy fizzled off, predictably, against his target’s impressive barrier. “Or not…” Savioiur’s pilot sighed. “Time to move to plan-B.”

A wash of blue thrust exploded out of Saviour’s engines, its various ballistic armaments loosing a cacophonous spray of bullets all around Stargazer. The red fighter swept by its enemy, and carried onward. CT took the bait. Unharmed by the pass, he drew beam pistols, turned around, and gave chase.

Meanwhile, Zanspine’s tinkle bits fell off the suit’s shoulders and spread out to surround Jack in Diamond. Simultaneously, Dylan drew a beam fan from her backpack and dashed towards her foe.

“A little forward, aren’t we?” Charlie chortled. Concentrating, the Gundam fighter gathered energy around his heart. Eyes closed, and body drew warmth from the air around him. “Diamond Burn!” he trumpeted, as hellfire poured out of his chest.

Surprised, Zanspine withdrew its charge and jumped back a few meters. Dylan frantically moved a wing of light to guard her forward section, and the elemental attack washed around her as a temperature greater than anything she’d yet faced on Mercury. Even from behind the wing of light, gundarium armor began to crack from heat exposure. Her mind raced for options, and finally she remembered her funnels.

“Fun’els, go!” the battle cry championed a half-dozen barrels lighting up with mega particles as they swarmed Jack in Diamond’s position. Charlie was forced to break off his ultimate attack and expend chi to raise barriers against the shots. Some fizzled away against his power, but quite a few managed to achieve glancing blows on Jack’s armor.

Worse yet, Zanspine took this distracted opportunity to renew its melee charge…

Below them, Saviour and Stargazer skidded close over the planet’s surface, both speedy mobile weapons gaining or giving little ground in the chase. Then suddenly, Elric pulled back on his stick, sending his unit upside down and reversing course. He cut off the Stargazer before it could give a shot, and retreated towards the safety of Leos.

-----STARGAZER _Don’t.

Ignoring warnings, CT wasted no time in resuming pursuit. Stargazer became a whirling dervish – a tornado that sped straight into the thick of mass-productions as beam rings activated. Power from the mobile suit’s battery quickly began to drain away.

Hoping for a resounding victory, much like at Altara, CT was startled to find his tactics less effective against so many foes. Though inexperienced, his enemies unloaded with machineguns from all angles. Some hit each other, but most managed to flood the area Stargazer occupied. Dozens of holes punctured the white suit’s frame, and CT was forced to disengage his attack and climb into the air – having taken down only two Leos for all his trouble.

“Not so fast!” Elric came down hard atop the Stargazer, his Saviour having transformed into suit mode and drawn back its beam saber. CT didn’t have time to dodge before the full weight of his enemy crashed onto his unit. Both tumbled back to the ground, where Saviour used its thrusters to pin Stargazer down.

“Fire, now!” Elric commanded. “Just do it!”

Though they hesitated to attack “one of their own,” the Leos recognized an order when they were given one. Taking not-so-careful aim, they drummed off a magazine worth of bullets into Saviour and Stargazer. With its Variable Phase Shift armor, Saviour seemed invincible against the onslaught. Stargazer faired much worse.

Warning klaxons reverberated in CT’s ears. He was growing angry, and annoyed, and knew there was only one choice. Flipping a switch, despite having little energy left, he turned the beam rings on. Saviour found itself in a blender of hurt…

* * *

“Oh shit!” Messaoud looked at his comrades getting reamed by overwhelming odds, and knew at this range he couldn’t risk firing into their furball. “Doubloon, stay back. I’m moving in to help those guys out!”

* * *

Zanspine came down with its beam fan and sliced clean through Jack in Diamond’s shoulder. Pain coursed through the mobile trace system, causing Charlie to scream. He knew he couldn’t possibly face Zanspine this far up; closing his eyes, he drew in all the energy he’d been using for lift. The mobile fighter plummeted, narrowly falling beneath another round of shots from the tinkle bits.

“Come get me!” Charlie shouted after the Zanspine, twisting his body into several rolls and spins before gracefully landing next to Saviour and Stargazer, and getting caught within the Leos’ machinegun fire. Yet no sooner had his feet touched the ground than did CT activate the beam rings.

“Oh Christ…” was all Elric managed to say before his suit’s vitals were sliced in two. In the span of three seconds, ten rotations of the beam rings pureed Saviour. Its face fell off, then its arms, and soon the entire body crumbled into insignificant chunks. Miraculously, the cockpit chamber managed to survive intact.

So soon as they began, the beam rings faded, Stargazer standing up and drawing beam pistols. With power enough for only five shots, CT knew his odds of finishing this dance were slim. Something inside of him prepared to die, looking at the Leos – who had ceased their fire only long enough to make sure they didn’t strike Elric’s exposed cockpit. Jack in Diamond and Stargazer stood back-to-back, surrounded by Leos on all sides, with Zanspine maneuvering her bits to fire down on them from above.

“Don’t forget about Messaoud!” a voice crackled on their COMM systems.

“Who?” Dylan asked, just as her Newtype senses pinged a warning. Zanspine cocooned itself inside the wings of light in time to avoid getting cut in two by an incoming shell. The blast instead knocked her back and up nearly a dozen meters, and shook a plate of previously-heat damaged armor from the Zanspine’s shoulder.

On the ground, Hildolfr’s treads carried it with surprising celerity into the engagement. Brandishing a machinegun, the unit’s hidden humanoid-like torso was now popped-up and aiming for the nearest Leo. Rounds thundered out of its barrel, trapping the target in a jerky dance as it was riddled with piping-hot lead.

“Looks like that’s our queue!” Charlie smiled, dashing shoulder-first at the enemy closest to him. The mass-production was thrown off its feet, and Jack in Diamond followed through by falling to a knee and plowing its fist through the downed suit’s reactor. A failsafe activated, preventing any explosion.

Stargazer did quite the same. Aided by artificial intelligence, CT began taking aim at anything he could see. Three quick shots went off, boring holes through two different targets.

Messaoud didn’t hesitate jumping into the melee either. Piledriver arms deployed, he flailed wildly, smacking around a couple Leos before they turned around and ignited beam sabers. One took a swing at his tracks, cutting the armor plating protecting the treads but causing no significant damage. Naceri responded by swiping off its head with a piledriver, but couldn’t turn in time to prevent the second Leo from jumping on top of his rig and slicing clean through its cannon with the saber.

“Clear a path to the Doubloon. We’re getting the hell out of here!” Charlie ordered.

Yet no sooner had his order been given, than Dylan Bennett landed between the three struggling pirates and their pathway to freedom. “I dun’ thin’ so, laddies.” She grinned, eyes closing.

From above, the tinkle bits began to rain energy down on the mass of mobile suits. Stargazer, Jack in Diamond, and Hildolfor all got hit – same for the Leos. One stray shot struck a previously-beaten Leo’s fuel reserves, resulting in an explosion that threw the Hildolfr up into the air and onto its side. Stargazer absorbed the fire with its beam shields for the first few seconds, but power finally failed, and CT winced as Hollistic Gundam fell into a dozen pieces of burning-hot slag. Only Jack in Diamond managed to leap from the mess, battered and scarred, but still operational enough to slam its fist through Zanspine’s chest. The two enemies crumbled together, neither one operational…

“Doubloon… pick us up…” Charlie struggled for words against the strain of battle. His eyelids were getting heavy; his heart was beating slowly. “We’ll be back for this base later.”

Outcome: Horizon Line remains, draw
Saviour: 4 days damage
Zanspine: 3 days damage
Hildolfr: 3 days damage
Stargazer: 4 (3) days damage
Jack in Diamond: 4 days damage
Horizon Line: Defenseless | Credits divided amongst everyone

___________________________________________________________________________
Hyperion Unit 1 versus Providence
By: Perfect Zeong

Another day at McKinley Base, much as the previous days had been – it was cold and snowing outside, and the installation’s recreation facilities were in high demand. Dreyson Bly, who had arrived from Lake Victoria earlier, didn’t much mind the well-regimented occurrences of the underground fortress – it suited his personality well enough. On the other hand, Atra Caelium was beginning to chafe against it. The near-constant snow and cloud cover (in addition to the bitterly chilly temperature) obscured his astronomic hobbies, and “going with the flow” seemed to be running him in a circuit from his quarters to the pilot lounges, cafeteria, then back again. More than once he had gotten lost in the labyrinthine facility as banners and gonfalons of a white-haired man (Atra conjectured he was the base commander or someone else of importance to the installation) being hung up in various locations had confused his earlier knowledge of the layout. Fortuitously for him, however, his boredom was about to come to an end. Having thoroughly conquered a pinball machine in the fourth-floor lounge, Atra was musing his hair and pondering what else he could do for a diversion when Dreyson arrived with a thought in mind.

“Hey, miss. You with the blue hair,” he said with a rather monotonous tone. It took Atra a moment to realize he was being addressed. “I saw your Gundam in the hangar. It looks interesting. We ought to have a match,” Dreyson’s delivery was rather blunt, as usual.

“A match, you say?” Atra replied, standing up and turning around to face him. “Alright, I’ll take that offer.”

A man? Dreyson thought. Fooled me well enough…

“Right,” he answered, continuing on as planned without regard for the gender revelation. “Bring your Gundam down on the elevator in Area C. I’ll see you there.”

---

After what seemed like an hour, the large-scale cargo elevator came to a halt. Atra wasn’t specifically sure where he was – the elevator simply had “up” and “down” controls with no floor listing. The great doors opened, and Atra found himself in what looked to be a massive cave, complete with nearly textbook-example stalactites. He moved the Hyperion Gundam off the elevator and onto the rocky floor.

“Hey, Dreyson!” he announced over the external audio. “Where ya at?” His voice echoed about in the chamber. Illumination was exceptionally poor – a number of flood lamps existed near the elevator, but the majority of the cavern was dark. Atra couldn’t see where the chamber terminated at all.

“You ready?” Dreyson’s voice popped in through Atra’s radio. “Or are you getting cold feet?”

“Cold feet?” Atra scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

“Good,” Dreyson concluded. Atra saw a pair of green eyes light up some distance beyond where the illumination faded. He quickly switched his mobile suit’s external feeds over to a night vision filter, and was rewarded with seeing the Providence Gundam’s DRAGOONs in flight towards him, beam guns powered up. Lamenting that he would have to resort to it so quickly, Atra activated the Hyperion’s trump card, the “Armure Lumiere” shield system. A number of triangular plates jettisoned from its body, trailing a wire behind, and formed an energized polyhedral shape around it. Not a moment too soon, Providence’s arsenal of DRAGOONs opened fire, lighting up the Hyperion’s vicinity like a fireworks display.

A 360-degree barrier, how interesting… Dreyson thought. Need to get one of those.

“You’re not just going to stand there, are you?” Atra remarked, taking aim with his beam machine gun and opening up. The shield stopped him from firing in, but much to Dreyson’s dismay, it did not stop Atra from firing out, and three of his DRAGOONs fell victim to the surprise attack before he regained control of the situation and got them moving evasively. The barrier was showing no signs of weakening despite the continued DRAGOON assault. Dreyson attacked with both his large beam rifle and the guns mounted in his shield, all of which were reflected as well.

“What is that thing made of?!” Dreyson exclaimed, eliciting a smirk from Atra. His enthusiasm over the potency of his barrier system was sharply tempered by the big digital readout counting down how much longer he had before his Gundam’s battery would be depleted. It wasn’t very long at all. Have to bring it into close combat, Dreyson thought. Let’s see that thing stop a beam saber. Dreyson fired the half-dozen thrusters on the back of his mobile suit’s massive backpack and began rapidly closing the distance between himself and the Hyperion. Low on power, his remaining DRAGOONs returned automatically. Those that could fire while attached to the Providence’s backpack did so, joining in the barrage from his shield and beam rifle.

“Why don’t you just give up already?” Atra suggested cheerily, opening fire with his beam machine gun again and taking a beam knife with his other hand. “It would sure save you some effort!”

Dreyson had enough room to maneuver around the attack, and was now nearly within melee range. You’re mine, you effeminate fool! Dreyson said gleefully in his mind, igniting his shield-mounted beam saber and moving in for the kill. The blade came down on the Hyperion – and was stopped by the shield all the same.

“You’re kidding me,” Dreyson said in disbelief. “It stops that too?!”

“It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?” Atra offered, worriedly looking at the timer. His battery would be dead in less than a minute, at which point he’d be at Dreyson’s mercy. Atra knew he’d have to move quickly. “But that’s not all I’ve got!” he proclaimed, activating the beam knife built into his machine gun and shutting off the “Armure Lumiere”. The knife in hand was jammed into Providence’s shield, causing a minor explosion and the disabling of Dreyson’s beam saber. The bayonet went straight into Providence’s face, briefly plunging Dreyson into darkness before the auxiliary cameras came online.

“Why you rotten…” Dreyson began, but quickly changed his tone as his DRAGOONs were now fully charged. “Without that shield, you’re meat!” Dreyson began firing both vulcan guns into the Hyperion at point-blank. Calling up a much-reduced version of the “Armure Lumiere” as a pseudo-beam shield, Atra was able to defend himself without taking more than some minimal damage.

“I told you that wasn’t all, didn’t I?” Atra prodded, grabbing another beam knife and bringing his now-free shoulder-mounted beam cannons to bear.

“It’s just the only thing that mattered!” Dreyson proclaimed, dispatching his DRAGOONs and opening fire onto the now-unprotected Hyperion. Almost instantly, the Gundam’s entire backpack system, including its cannons and most of the “Armure Lumiere”, was annihilated. Atra was now surrounded by DRAGOONs, buzzing about like angry bees ready to deliver a beam sting that would finish him with certainty. He looked to his beam knife, to the Providence, and then to the DRAGOONs.

“Well, I’d say that was a good match,” Atra stated with his positive demeanor apparently intact, replacing the knife in its recharge slot in the Hyperion’s knee. “Well done. We should do this again sometime.” With that, Atra started heading back to the elevator. Dreyson was somewhat stunned for a moment.

“Anticlimax, your definition is me,” he muttered.

Outcome: Providence wins, Hyperion loses
Providence: 2 days damage
Hyperion: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Freedom ambushes Akatsuki
By: Victory 2

Mhus Dalahk’s red eyes scanned the diagnostic readout of his Akatsuki’s console. The modifications he had asked for had been made, so his suit’s frame would be a little more responsive to smaller movements. The beam cannons had received some work, as well. He checked over some of the exterior components, noting that the Owashi pack was still secured. He would need to get it replaced for something better suited to vacuum combat, he supposed. He was headed into orbit, after all. The controls beeped at him once, noting the arrival of a contact in the area. He ignored it, focusing on his preparations for another moment. All systems had been resupplied, and he nodded in satisfaction. A second klaxon sounded, grabbing his attention, and he noted that the arrival was not an Orb pilot, but an unidentified mobile suit.

“Dammit. This is not what I need right now.” Nevertheless, he closed his hatch fully and ignited his suit’s thrusters to ‘greet’ the new arrival. He supposed space could wait for the time being – it would be there tomorrow. Moments after lifting off, though, suspiciously familiar rail cannon fire went screaming just below his position. “Not you again…”

“Unfortunately for you, it is me again.” James Eldredge’s voice was distorted across the comm. frequency, but the annoyance the Annapolis Corporation’s pilot felt could still be clearly comprehended. “If it weren’t for the fact that you caused me to break off my attack last time, I wouldn’t even be here right now. However, since you did, here I am. So, can we end this pointless conversation and get around to my beating you up?”

Mhus’s eyes narrowed, with the barest glint of red visible between his eyelids. ‘Cocky bastard, huh?’ Choosing not to respond with words, the Orb pilot instead locked the beam cannons from the Owashi pack into firing position and let loose with a paired blast of energy. James brought up his shield, which took the brunt of the blast, its anti-beam coating handling the energy with some minor loss of defensive potential. James thought back to his previous encounter with this pilot, and remembered that he had simply taken long-distance shots at him with those very same cannons. Resolved not to allow a similar outcome, he pushed the Freedom to its maximum acceleration, heading directly towards his opponent.

Mhus stopped momentarily during the Freedom’s approach, thinking quickly at which response might best allow him to handle the attack. Unfortunately, he therefore missed his chance to fire again with his cannons, as the speed of the opposing Gundam was greater than what he had expected. He decided to accept the fact that a close-range duel would be no worse odds than a ranged battle, considering his aggressor’s varied weaponry. Shifting the beam cannons back down, he grabbed his twin beam saber, igniting both ends and twirling it once above his head to test the responsiveness of the modified controls. That was all the preparation he had time for, though, as the Freedom had closed to melee range.

Igniting a beam saber in each hand, the Freedom slammed against the Akatsuki’s twin saber with its weapons, driving the golden suit backwards. With a ferocity that belied his demeanor, James slashed again and again, each time drawing closer to scoring a hit on the suit that had forced him to break of his attack previously. Meanwhile, Mhus parried and dodged as best he could, attempting to read a pattern in his foe’s fighting style. The Owashi pack offered him a minor advantage in maneuverability in the atmosphere, but not much. James, however, used his varied knowledge of martial arts to good effect, switching up his motions and causing significant trouble for the Akatsuki. The two suits battled across the sky, moving up and down in an effort to use all three of the available dimensions to best effect.

With a desperate block, Mhus managed to avoid being skewered by his foe, but a new worry cropped up. The force of the contact pushed his suit slightly backwards and down, and he realized he was now just barely above the ground. Combat at ground level would negate the atmospheric flight capabilities of the Owashi pack. He attempted to slide around one overly-ambitious strike and regain altitude, but James would have none of it. Spinning his suit along its axis, he brought the second saber swinging down from overhead and pushing the Akatsuki onto the ground. The move did cost him, though, as Mhus was finally able to notice an opening and make a counter-thrust. As James had spun, Mhus had swiped over his back, dragging his saber across and up, finally catching the overhead slice on one of the edges. The speed with which the Freedom had made the maneuver prevented him from getting in a deep cut, but both plasma cannons had been cleanly spliced, and would clearly no longer function.

With the fight now significantly in his favor, James pressed his advantage, and what once had been near-misses were now glancing blows. Several minor slashes marred the bright finish on the golden mobile suit, though the damage was mostly cosmetic. Then Akatsuki received a cut along its shoulder, and one edge of the Owashi pack was entirely destroyed. Mhus jettisoned the pack quickly, but before he could, the thrust it provided – now only emanating from one side – nearly sent him tumbling. Its momentum off-balance, the Akatsuki could not successfully defend itself as the Freedom scored another hit. A saber sliced through near the center of the twin beam saber, cutting off one side and removing part of the Akatsuki’s hand. The two pieces of the weapon fell to the ground, one side sparking and shutting off. The other continued to glare, though, and Mhus reached out for it.

“I don’t think so.” A glowing blade in front Mhus’s suit’s head stopped his motion, though, and there stood the Freedom. “This is why you don’t meddle in the affairs of the Company. I…” His words were cut off, however, as an enormous wave of beam fire roared past, around, and in some cases impacted against, the Freedom. It staggered back and the gigantic Quin Mantha settled lightly to the Earth, its funnels beginning to deploy. With the momentary reprieve, Mhus quickly finished his motion to grab the functioning half of his twin beam saber, and then retreated slightly towards the Quin’s position.

“Funny you should talk about meddling, pal. This is just a little bit of payback. I seem to recall you doing just the same the last time I w…” Octavius Langston’s words, too, were cut short as the Freedom locked in its rail cannons and let loose a quick burst of fire at the Quin Mantha. The attack caught Octavius off-guard and one of the slugs passed perilously close to his cockpit, but instead destroyed some servos and continued through the other side of the suit and off into the distance. Not wasting any more time with small-talk, Octavius focused on his control of his funnels, and the numerous remote weapons moved menacingly towards the Freedom.

“This is absurd. Interrupted again! Don’t think there won’t be some sort of cost for your actions.” Firing the rail cannons at the Quin Mantha again, James was once more rewarded with a hit. This time, however, Octavius had been more prepared for the attack, and had been able to partially dodge out of the way. The Quin’s upper left arm and shoulder binder were struck, but that barely impaired his ability to deal out an immense amount of damage. He quickly displayed that fact by opening up with the funnels, and James was forced to concentrate on dodging the attacks. Realizing that once again he would not get the opportunity to engage in the combat he had planned, he quickly made an expeditious retreat, as funnel fire shot around his suit.

Octavius once more opened his comm. “Perhaps you’ll eventually figure out that taking on Orb pilots on our Earth isn’t such a good idea! Run back to your corporate masters.” Barely having broken a sweat, he checked on his compatriot, who wasn’t in nearly as good shape.

“I guess now we’re even from last time, huh?” Mhus, in the Akatsuki, tried to figure out how best to follow his orders with his suit in such disarray. Octavius’s response filled his cockpit, as he fingered the folded note in his flight suit’s pocket.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Outcome: Akatsuki and Quin Mantha win, Freedom loses
Akatsuki: 2 days damage
Freedom: 2 days damage
Quin Mantha: 1 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
X versus Blitz
By: Perfect Zeong

- Balkan Peninsula, Southeast Europe -

A meeting of unaligned, and indeed, anarchistic activists would be considered a political rally in any other situation. Unbeknownst to Erebus Gethen and Dash Holloway, and indeed, perhaps to anyone, a fellow not wholly unlike themselves and not far away from their current positions had started a war with but two bullets ages earlier. No assassinations today, however – only a (relatively) benign spar between two like-minded individuals seeking to test each others’ skill and mettle. And that of their Gundams, of course.

---

Dash was looking more than a little haggard. Three metallic lances stuck out of his Gundam X’s satellite cannon and its heat dispersal system, rendering the big gun effectively worthless. More importantly, Erebus’ Blitz, save for its severed right forearm, anchor and all, was nowhere to be seen.

“You were right, that is a really nice weapon your Gundam has,” Erebus chimed in over the radio. “But it’s not going to do you much good if you can’t see me…” He added some extra emphasis on the last part. Dash considered Erebus’ language for a moment. Was it possible he didn’t know that the satellite cannon was offline?

“Well, as I’m sure you know, that isn’t X’s only way to fight things,” Dash stated, gripping the X’s beam saber firmly. “Or maybe I should come take that other arm too?”

“You’re more than welcome to try…” Erebus offered, carefully moving Blitz around a grove as slow as possible avoid making undue noise and attracting attention to himself. “But I think it would help if you could find me first.”

“Oh, is that all I have to do?” Dash joked. “Here I thought this was going to be hard.” He continued looking all around him for even the most subtle hints of his quarry, and turned up disappointed again. For just an instant, he had a feeling of Newtype prescience to his left. “Gotcha!” Dash yelled, spraying down the area with his quadruple vulcan guns. A few trees were holed and tumbled over, but otherwise, his assault had accomplished little. Almost immediately, a beam pierced his mobile suit’s shoulder from behind and further wrecked the heat dissipation “wings”, nearly knocking him over.

“If I was in your position, I’d be thinking this was going to be hard too,” Erebus quipped, lowering his shield-mounted beam rifle and sidestepping Dash’s retaliatory shot. Thanks to the Blitz’ Mirage Colloid coating, his Gundam was completely invisible, both to visual and electronic detection. On the other hand, his Phase Shift armor could not function at the same time, leaving him quite vulnerable… if Dash could ever actually land a solid hit.

“I’ll find you eventually! Just wait!” Dash began firing his beam rifle into the vicinity he guesstimated the Blitz occupied, but continued to hit air and little else.

“Oh, the anticipation is simply killing me,” Erebus retorted, lining up another shot. This one struck Dash’s beam rifle, sending it flying off to the side and tumbling like a football. Its dual-purpose construction as a shield prevented it from exploding as a normal rifle would, but that was of little condolence to Dash, who was rapidly running out of weapons.

“Go suck a doorknob!” Dash barked, letting loose with his vulcan guns again, determined to hit the Blitz or run out of ammunition trying. He swept his barrage a full thirty degrees before he was suddenly rewarded with a few sparks and a bit of black armor appearing out of thin air and falling to the ground. Dash grinned ecstatically and focused his fusillade on the same spot, and more debris from the Blitz began appearing.

“Fine, so you’ve trumped my Mirage Colloid,” Erebus scowled, shutting it off – the Phase Shift armor reactivated automatically, rendering him impervious to the rest of the ammunition heading his way. “I’ve still got a rifle!”

Now visible (and with some holes where Dash had scored hits before the PS came online), Erebus took aim and zeroed in the X’s body into his reticule. With little more than a moment to react, Dash flipped his beam saber over and flung it at the Blitz. Erebus blanched for a moment, but apparently emerged intact: the beam saber had passed harmlessly by him and fizzled out shortly before hitting the ground.

Erebus smirked and pulled the trigger. Instead of a blast, however, he got nothing. The rifle wouldn’t fire. “What? You stupid piece of-” Erebus exclaimed before being cut short by the Blitz’s entire arm and shoulder falling off. Evidently the saber had hit him after all.

“You were saying?” Dash beckoned, thoroughly proud of his handiwork. Both Gundams were effectively disarmed, but the Blitz was quite literally so.

“Lucky throw, that’s all,” Erebus stated flatly.

Outcome: X wins, Blitz loses
X: 2 days damage
Blitz: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Justice ambushes Zeta
By: Victory 2

The Zeta Gundam flew above the surface of the Earth in Waverider mode, heading towards Monte Carlo. Tristram McDowell riffled the deck of cards held in his left hand, as his right held the four aces from the pack. He slid them into random locations in the deck, and without even looking shuffled several times. Flipping up the top four cards, he spotted three ‘A’s and a ‘7 of Spades’ staring back at him.

“Dang. Need to work on that.” He went to begin the trick again, but suddenly he was rocked as machinegun fire peppered the Zeta. The cards flew everywhere, as Tristram pulled the Zeta into a hard bank and checked his scanners. Sure enough, he noticed an approaching mobile suit, and he cursed in anger. “Every time I want to make a trip…”

In the Justice, Logan Hunt nodded and maneuvered to follow the ship contraption. It was the perfect opportunity to give his new mobile suit a test run, and he engaged the Phase Shift armor as color rippled across his suit. Standing upon the unit’s Fatum-00 lifter pack, he took careful aim and fired his machineguns again. However, the nimble craft that was his target managed to avoid the second salvo. Shockingly, though, it quickly shifted form. Logan’s mouth fell open as the Zeta transformed into its mobile suit mode, and before he could react it fired at him with its beam rifle. The beams slammed into the side of the red suit, and Logan crashed forward against his restraints. The attack surprised him, but he resolved not to be so easily fooled a second time.

The Fatum-00 lifter’s jets flared, as the Justice attempted to angle above the Zeta. Grabbing a beam boomerang, Logan threw the unusual weapon at his enemy, but his inexperience at live aerial combat caused him to release it with far too much force. Tristram gave his controls a slight nudge, and the Zeta slipped out of the path of the attack. The boomerang continued its downward flight, embedding in the ground below. The Zeta again fired, this time opting for grenades. The explosives jumped up at the Justice, scoring a solid hit.

“Yes… Huh?” Logan smiled, as the Phase Shift armor easily prevented any damage to his suit. Once more he grabbed at a beam boomerang and released it, though with a more judicious application of power this time. Again, the Zeta shifted to the side to avoid the attack. However, this time the boomerang didn’t slam into the Earth at full speed, but instead made its turn and headed back towards the Justice from a slightly different angle. Tristram was too busy lining up a counterattack with his beam rifle to notice. Then again, he’s not called “Lucky” McDowell for no reason. The boomerang’s rebound sliced upwards at the Zeta, but only managed to cleave through the arm upon which the Zeta was brandishing its shield. As the appendage fell to the Earth, Tristram mentally let out a sigh at his carelessness, then fired several times. A pair of shots struck the Justice at the shoulder and hip, and a third blew through the Fatum-00 pack.

The Justice began tumbling earthwards, and Logan’s enthusiasm had dimmed significantly. He fired his suit’s own thrusters, headed away from the odd transforming mobile suit his opponent piloted. Tomorrow would be another day, and he had managed to test out his new suit – perhaps more than he would have liked.

“Hmm… Maybe I can still make the tables. Though I’ll have to get myself cleaned up, first.” Tristram switched the Zeta back into Waverider mode and jetted off once again – grumbling as he attempted to pick up the playing cards strewn about his cockpit. Resting against his flight controls, the Ace of Spades reflected the lights of the suit’s console, and Tristram couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

Outcome: Zeta wins, Justice loses
Zeta: 1 days damage
Justice: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Destiny versus Beta Azieru
By: Perfect Zeong

“Quite a view, just like they said…” Brandon Heat said aloud, taking in the scenic vista that stretched out before him. His Destiny Gundam’s feet were firmly planted in the Furtwängler glacier atop Mt. Kilimanjaro, and a great expanse of Africa lay around him on all sides. Unlike innumerable travelers who had came before him, Brandon had enjoyed the luxury of simply buzzing up to the top with Destiny’s flight capabilities. Having thoroughly absorbed the scenery, he fired up the flight systems, projecting Destiny’s wings of light and went airborne.

Mere moments later, a proximity alert began buzzing, indicating that an object was approaching him from behind. Brandon did an about-face and was immediately presented with a gigantic red monstrosity barreling towards him at high speed. Pupils shrinking to dots, Brandon narrowly evaded impact with the behemoth, which plowed through the after-images generated by Destiny's flight system.

“Hey! Watch where you’re flying that thing!” Brandon hollered. “You nearly killed me!” The mobile armor began decelerating and made a long, banking turn to come back towards him.

“I should say the same thing about you!” Chris Butler, the mobile armor’s pilot, rebutted. “Just taking off from the top of a mountain like that! Look around some more you dork!” The enormous Beta Azieru came to a halt and hovered.

“Dork?!” Brandon demanded, pointing one of Destiny’s fingers in an incriminating gesture. “I’m not flying a giant… navigational hazard around like it’s a jet!”

“Beta, a navigational hazard?!” Chris fumed. “Oh, that tears it. I’m going to my put foot so far up your ass you’ll need a dentist to get it loose! En garde!”

“…what?” Brandon asked, somewhat confused. “You’re not an Imperial, what’s with the Shakespeare? Did you just-” Brandon decided it would be better to debate semantics later, as the Beta was now bearing down on him and producing a massive barrage of beam cannon fire in his direction. Wasting no time, Brandon activated his beam shield and defended himself. Chris’ mobile armor seemed fully intent on flying directly into him. Dodging most of the barrage and deflecting a few he couldn’t, Brandon heaved his long-range beam cannon to an aiming position. Evading another collision between him and the mobile armor, Brandon lined up its massive skirt in his sights and fired off a shot. It seemed as though it was about to connect, then deflected harmlessly off the Beta’s I-field barrier.

“Not bad for a “navigational hazard,” is it?” Chris stated, coming around again. “Let’s see you dodge this one!” The horn-like projection on the Beta’s torso slid back, exposing its fairly humanoid head and upper body. An enormous blast issued from the Beta’s cranium-mounted scattering mega particle cannon, far larger than Brandon’s beam shield would be able to protect against. Brandon evaded the beam, but only barely – Destiny’s wings began deforming and bending due to the extreme heat in the proximity of the blast. Brandon cursed at a diagnostic readout on his monitor: Destiny would be able to stay airborne, but its ability to maneuver was sharply reduced.

“Great, I’m a goddamn sitting duck…” he muttered under his breath. The Beta would easily be able to blast him out of the air where he was, leaving Brandon with two choices: drop altitude and attempt to fight from the ground, a few thousand meters below, or try to close to melee range. Brandon decided on the former, and milking what speed he could from his damaged flight systems, began maneuvering towards the oncoming Beta.

“Oh, where’s your speed now, Mr. Slower Than a Navigational Hazard?” Chris gloated. The Beta’s wire-guided mega arms popped off its shoulders and began letting loose in a machine gun-like repeating barrage. Doing what he could to block the attacks, Brandon grabbed one of his beam boomerangs and hoped it would do the job.

“You’re one to talk about speed!” Brandon shouted, winding up and hurling the boomerang at the Beta. “Try dodging that!” Chris did. Somewhat. The boomerang severed one of the mega arms and continued on into the Beta’s shoulder, cleaving most of it off before getting lodged in the mobile armor’s skirt. With no commands (or power), the mega arm fell like a rock. Brandon readied his second (and last) boomerang.

“Punk,” Chris seethed, opting for his heaviest firepower: the Beta’s funnels. Three detached from its rear end and popped over its shoulders, all focusing on Destiny. Brandon flung his remaining boomerang, and promptly intercepted the beams from the Beta’s funnels with his beam shield. The first two shots were absorbed, but the third overloaded the shield and punched through, shattering Destiny’s arm and most of what remained of its wings, killing its remaining flight capability. The boomerang struck the Beta’s huge external fuel tanks, prompting Chris to eject them before his mobile armor could be consumed in a massive conflagration.

Well, to the ground it is! Brandon thought, hoping for the best. His thrusters would let him land safely, but beyond that…

“Gah, I’m tired of you,” Chris grumbled. Preferring not to pursue Destiny on its descent and risk further damage to his Beta from further boomerangs, Chris fired up the Beta’s massive engines again and resumed his flight from earlier. Brandon was notably relieved.

Later, he would remark that the view of Kilimanjaro from the ground was pretty good too.

Outcome: Draw
Destiny: 2 days damage
Beta Azieru: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Jack in Diamond versus Stargazer versus Hildolfr
By: Victory 2

“Okay, so this time, can you please try to avoid throwing alcohol in my eyes, Charlie?” Messaoud Naceri’s voice played as if he was annoyed, but the tinge of humor in his tone still managed to broadcast itself through the Jack in Diamond’s cockpit. Charlie Cordova shook his head ruefully and let out a small laugh. Nearby, the grounded Gold Doubloon rested on the surface of the Red Planet, a backdrop for the fight that was about to take place.

“Dammit Naceri, I already apologized about that. It happened a while ago, you know. You gonna keep harping on it forever?”

Messauod, in his newly repaired Hildolfr, grinned. The cheerful pilot couldn’t resist another barb. “Ooooo, Chuckie, I’m a ghooooooooost, booga-booga!” As the shorter pilot made ‘whooshing’ noises over the comm. system, Charlie couldn’t help but wonder if it might not have been better if his comrade had in fact died upon that mountaintop.

“Alright, alright, I get it, that’s enough. CT, you ready?”

In the Stargazer, CT Weaver marveled at the echoes resounding from his speakers. The sounds created paths through the air, colors flashing as the pitch changed. Clear blue tones softly wavered into muted browns that vibrated above his head momentarily, when a clash of red and orange struck his vision. Words formed in his head, informing him that it was time for his Holistic Gundam to once more spread its message.

“CT? Hello, CT? See-teeeee? … Dammit, CT! Wake up!” Though no vocal response came from the Stargazer, the suit shifted position, and the ring on its back began to spin above its head. It took several steps forwards, moving erratically, and neither of its two opponents were exactly sure what to make of the scene. In CT’s veins, the acid coursed through his blood, and the pilot’s motions were even less laconic than usual.

“Okay Messauod, guess that means it’s time to go.” With those words, Charlie sent the Jack in Diamond sprinting towards the Stargazer. He turned his head to send several bursts of vulcan fire at the Hildolfr as he ran by. The shells spattered harmlessly against the thick armor of the tank, its mobile suit torso still hidden. The Stargazer began to lean almost to the side as the Jack in Diamond approached. Yet, as Charlie leapt for a decisive strike at the bigger mobile suit, the Stargazer let its lean turn almost into a fall, sliding out of the way of the blow.

Almost without thinking, it seemed, CT’s hands flew across his controls. The threads wove about him, inside him. He could see one connecting his own Gundam to the red suit that tumbled beyond his own. Following the thread, the Stargazer’s pistol was suddenly in its hand, and it fired several times at the Jack in Diamond. The blasts mostly missed their mark, though several impacted its skirt armor, breaking off a large chunk.

“Hey, hey, watch the goods there buddy!” Charlie righted himself, bunching his fingers into a fist inside his Mobile Trace system. Moving more carefully, he slid sideways to present a smaller profile, angling towards the white suit. As he closed to melee range, though, his mobile fighter’s collision impact warning klaxons blared.

Massauod was not one to sit idly by while his two opponents duked it out.

“Here’s a special cocktail for you… Modified High-explosive incendiary round loaded… Fire.” The unusual charge sped from the Hlidolfr’s cannon, traveling the relatively short distance between it and the two other suits in just a moment. Inside the Stargazer, CT saw the patterns in the air as his own sirens blared, and his suit jumped into the air, avoiding the round. In the Jack in Diamond, Charlie was not as quick to respond, and could only bring up an arm to block the attack. The weapon exploded against the side of his armor, bursting into a massive gout of flame that obscured his vision for a few moments. This was indeed an unusual blend, a specially mixed combination of nitrogen, oxygen, and fuel placed in an extra-large shell. It would allow for a short-lasting but extremely intense flame to form even in oxygenless environments.

“What the… How’d you? … Whatever. You want to play with fire? I’m okay with that.” The mobile fighter grinned and threw his arms forward, yelling to punctuate his attack. “Diamond Burn!” The blaze on its arms suddenly roared into a chi-powered inferno, leaping towards the nearby Stargazer. The pillars of fire climbed into the sky, quickly approaching the motionless suit in which CT sat.

In his own mind, Weaver saw words, noting the rainbow of colors in which they appeared. “Warning, blaze temperature may overwhelm armor capabilities.” His mind processed this information for a moment, almost welcoming the warmth. As the flames began to engulf his suit, CT finally kicked in his thrusters again, bursting out of the fireball that had threatened to destroy his Stargazer. Blackened bits of armor cracked upon hitting the cool air, and the ring of the Voiture Lumiere system was nearly split in two. However, the suit was still operational, and CT finally began firing again. He grabbed a beam pistol in each hand now. Flinging his arms outward into the ‘crucifix’ position to aim at both opponents, he felt a smile tug at the edge of his lips, pulling upwards from the corner of his eyes as he spoke to the voice in his head.

“You are my Holistic gundam. I can feel your power. Now. Please. Spread that power to others, before the brightness overwhelms my sight. Connect yourself, connect me, to all things. Free me from this console prison.” Several blasts from the Stargazer’s pistols shot towards the Jack in Diamond, and another few were sped away at the Hildolfr. CT fired again and again, losing himself in the intensity of the sights and the sounds that swirled about his cockpit.

“Dammit CT, what are you trying to do, really get me killed?!” Messaoud spun his treads as he tried to dodge the fire and get a weapons-lock at the same time. Each flare from the Stargazer’s pistol sounded a trumpet horn in CT’s ears, the blaring building into chords that rose up towards the heavens. Finally he paused, letting the song die down – after all, great symphonies have multiple movements.

Weaver closed his eyes and attempted to form words to explain why he needed to respond in such a fashion, but they died upon his lips. Instead, he only watched the replay of his attacks inside his eyelids, as the blasts crashed into the Hildolfr’s treads, splitting one open and effectively immobilizing the tank. The Jack in Diamond had managed to transform into armor mode. Though much of its outside sections had also been damaged from Messaoud’s projectile, it was more suited to handle the intense heat, and lost only a small amount of maneuverability.

The Stargazer began firing anew, as Weaver initiated the second movement. Spinning, Charlie tried to avoid the green darts of energy that blasted at his suit, cutting around several and allowing a pair to impact relatively harmlessly against the outer portion of his unit. He was knocked around somewhat, but quickly began gaining altitude. The blasts had continued, and though the Jack in Diamond was now nearing the Stargazer, the Hildolfr fared much worse. Twice more it had received solid blows, with one severely damaging the rotational motors in his tank’s turret.

As Messaoud cursed and attempted to twist his turret to attack the Stargazer, CT noticed a wildly moving thread in the sky before him. His breath caught in his throat with the intensity of the light that burned from the twisting strand, as the onrushing Jack in Diamond slammed full on into the Stargazer, nearly ripping it to pieces. The hardy mobile fighter’s front section was crumpled significantly, but it fared much better than its partner in the collision. The Stargazer tumbled downwards, massively damaged and entirely incapacitated. The crashing sounds reverberated in CT’s brain as a whirlwind of colors, a multihued tornado that threatened to engulf him. As his suit slammed into the rocky terrain of Mercury, the impact knocked him senseless. The creeping blackness came down across his vision slowly, with words of concern forming in his mind even as he finally lost consciousness.

As the Hildolfr’s mobile suit torso finally emerged from its protected location within the tank, Messaoud began firing machinegun rounds at the Jack in Diamond, hoping to score a lucky shot. He would not be so fortunate, as the projectiles did little damage but did remind Charlie that he had another combatant with which to deal. Switching back to suit mode, he descended to the surface quickly, then headed towards the tank-suit hybrid at a dead sprint. More machinegun fire peppered his fighter, and he felt the stings on his arms and legs. He was determined, however, to ignore the pain for the moment.

“Aww, hell no.” Messaoud knew he was screwed even before a flying kick – essentially the same maneuver Charlie had attempted to begin the match with when fighting the Stargazer – removed the Hildolfr’s head clean off its body, ending the duel. Breathing heavily, Charlie allowed himself a moment to revel in his hard-won victory, then flicked on his console’s comm. systems.

“Gold Doubloon, this is the Jack in Diamond. Mind picking us up? I don’t think I can carry either of these heavy bastards back on my own.” With that, he sat back in his chair and pulled out a coin, running it back and forth across the back of his hand. All in all, things had gone pretty well, he supposed… Even as his comm. system began reporting back not only that the Doubloon was on its way, but the varied, inventive, and humorous ways Messaoud ensured him he would employ to get back at him.

Outcome: Jack in Diamond wins, Stargazer and Hildolfr lose
Jack in Diamond: 2 days damage
Hildolfr: 2 days damage
Stargazer: 3 (2) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Virsago versus Ashtaron
By: Perfect Zeong

“I don’t like this at all, big brother,” Claus Butcher frowned. “Not one bit.”

“What’s that, little brother?” Dietrich Butcher responded, lowering a thick book he had been browsing through.

“This entire business,” Claus stated bluntly. “Why would that guy, Vladimir or whatever, give us those mobile suits if we were just going to run them through computer simulations all day?”

“Maybe he doesn’t think we’re capable of using them in real combat yet,” Dietrich said with a rather disinterested tone, returning to the tome before him. “In any case, you should be thankful that this is how he wanted us to pay him back. Lounging in this Annapolis Corporation base all day sure beats digging ditches and making less than a living wage, especially when you consider how much that tuition was…”

“Well I’m certainly glad you think that’s so benign…” Claus muttered. “What’s up with that guy, anyway?” Claus attempted to imitate his voice and speech patterns, ““Oh, don’t worry about the money. Instead, you should come to Annapolis and work for me.” What an eight-ball…”

“I think being underground for this long has started to get to you,” Dietrich posited, turning a page. “You should go outside and get some fresh air.”

“Hmph, fresh air…” Claus grumbled. “I’ll show you fresh… wait. Ah hah! That’s it!” Dietrich propped up an eyebrow. “We’ll get some fresh air, alright, and show that guy we’re combat-capable right now as well!”

“Are you proposing a live-fire exercise, little brother?” Dietrich inquired.

“Indeed so, big brother,” Claus responded. “Unless, of course, you’re worried about losing…”

---

A blast from the Virsago’s megasonic gun annihilated a number of pines, throwing a cloud of crisped and blackened needles into the air. Dietrich didn’t seem impressed, and deployed his Ashtaron’s atomic scissors, opening fire with the mounted beam guns.

“That thing maneuvers better than I thought it would,” Claus admitted, closing up the Virsago’s torso and strike claws before leaping back to avoid being struck.

“Do you think I’d have accepted this Gundam if it was a brick like yours?” Dietrich chided, adding his machine cannons in to the barrage. Claus scoffed and chose not to respond, instead slinging a strike claw at the Ashtaron as he returned to the ground. Dietrich attempted to smack it aside, but it ended up getting tangled in one of his atomic scissors. Claus seized the opportunity and immediately retracted the claw, pulling the Ashtaron off balance.

“Not so slow now, is it?” he jeered, firing his handheld beam cannon at his brother and disabling the Ashtaron’s other scissor.

“Comparatively, yes,” Dietrich replied, reconfiguring Ashtaron into its mobile armor mode and going airborne, dragging the Virsago with him. Claus struggled to get his bearings again as his Gundam was knocked about like a doll by the Ashtaron’s sharp maneuvering and the fierce snowfall, which he was quite certain was blowing sideways.

“Put me down, you!” Claus demanded, still unable to free his strike claw from the Ashtaron’s remaining scissor. Dietrich responded by performing an aileron roll (further whapping Claus around), then diving towards a craggy outcropping sprouting from atop a ridge. It became clear to Claus that his brother was planning on plowing the dangling Virsago into the rocks. “Fine then, have it your way,” Claus said, powering up the megasonic gun for a point-blank shot.

“Very well then,” Dietrich said. “Is here good?” He fired the scissor’s beam cannon, wrecking the tangled strike claw and cutting Virsago free.

“Ass!” Claus shouted as he tumbled into the ground, rolling and bouncing end over end like a football, eventually crashing into the rocks all the same. The impact threw up a massive cloud of snow, dirt and bits of rock. Dietrich executed a slow turn and came to make another pass to examine his handiwork.

“I didn’t beat up your Gundam too badly, did I, little brother?” Dietrich inquired. He was answered by a megasonic beam rocketing out of the cloud directly towards him. The beam skimmed the edge of the Ashtaron’s back, removing a few parts of its backpack. It had apparently hit something else as well; Dietrich started to smell smoke, and the Gundam began shuddering and its flight became unsteady. The blast cleared the cloud, revealing that the Virsago was aesthetically battered, beaten, dented and scuffed but still more or less functional.

“Not nearly as bad as what I’m going to do to you, big brother,” Claus grinned, charging up for another shot. Dietrich attempted to maneuver out of the way, but the Ashtaron simply refused to respond. Dietrich rapidly considered his options, and opted on a somewhat daring chance.

“You shouldn’t make promises you might have difficulty keeping…” Dietrich retorted, firing the Ashtaron’s nose-mounted beam cannons. One struck a glancing blow off the Virsago’s knee, causing it to briefly botch its firing solution. Before the gun fired, Dietrich reverted the Ashtaron to its mobile suit mode and dropped out of the air like a rock. The megasonic blast missed by a wide degree. As he stumbled to recover, Claus saw the mobile suit was now heading towards him at high speed, and drew a beam saber. Ashtaron hit the ground, stumbled, then landed flat on its rear, the momentum continuing to skid it along the ground. “You might look silly later.” With Ashtaron nearly on top (or rather, under) him, Claus flipped his beam saber around, blade now pointing downward, but wasn’t quite fast enough. Dietrich’s remaining atomic scissor clamped around Virsago’s megasonic gun, Ashtaron coming to rest right up against it. Ashtaron was well within striking range of Claus’ beam saber, but destruction of the megasonic gun would likely blow him up entirely.

“…came in a bit low, I see,” Claus stated.

“Is this really the time for such innuendo?” Dietrich asked incredulously.

“Pssht,” Claus scoffed. “It’s never a bad time for innuendo.’

Outcome: Draw
Virsago: 2 days damage
Ashtaron: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Spiegel ambushes Nu
By: Stargazer

John Winston was on his way home from work. He was tired and it was late. Two dozen of his coworkers had gotten laid off today, the second wave in a series of firings that had the man on edge. Corporate downsizing, they said. John didn’t know how to do anything else – he wasn’t some bigshot CPA, he just crunched numbers for some nameless company. His general business degree was starting to seem pretty pathetic.

This was life, he thought. Go to work, go home, get fucked up on the weekends and then get fired. His car took a left turn at a green light, the man not even noticing the huge mechanical foot on the other side of the intersection.

What a bum rap.

~

Another man was driving through the city at the same time as John. It was late and he was also tired. But this was his job. The Nu Gundam trudged through the late-night traffic, careful to avoid stepping on cars as pedestrians gaped up at it, and paused at a stoplight.

Makoto was sure he had seen the Spiegel disappear into this labyrinthine city, moving among the sleeping buildings. Where had it gone? The thing couldn’t just…disappear. He had been searching for this stupid suit for a few hours now, as night fell. The fisherman sighed and rubbed his hand over his warm brown eyes. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay awake.

A shadow appeared at the top of the skyscraper directly in front of him. Neon lights burned brightly in his sporadic vision. He rubbed his eyes again.

The shadow materialized as a Gundam, blades at the ready and crouching to attack. Adrenaline surged through Makoto’s system as he found himself completely awake.

Immediately, he loosed a shot from his beam rifle that lanced into the dark sky, a spear of light against the heavens.

The shadows dissipated in the bright flash. There was nothing there.

“Fuck,” Nagano muttered. He sighed and rested his head in his hands.

“I’m getting too old for this sh-“

An explosion rocked the Nu Gundam, toppling it forward. Only Makoto’s quick attention prevented the destruction of several cars. The readouts told a grim story – the fin funnels were disabled. The explosion was one of their reactors going off.

The Nu Gundam whipped around, raising its beam rifle as it did so. Leaning against a skyscraper, the Spiegel tossed and caught a messergranz casually. Makoto fumed.

“What the hell! That was dangerous!”

The mysterious ninja Gundam shrugged. It flipped the messergranz at Nu lazily. The fisherman brought up his shield easily in time to deflect it. When he lowered the protective barrier, the Spiegel was gone, blazing into the night sky.

Makoto grumbled as his own suit leapt into the air and ignited its thrusters. It caught up to the smaller Spiegel easily, loosing several blasts that were dodged.

“You can’t get the jump on me,” Lady Raelin joked, tossing her white hair back.

“Whatever,” the fisherman growled, annoyed and tired. He fired several more times, one shot blowing a chunk out of the Spiegel’s side. Raelin gasped as the Trace system sent the pain back to her, but quickly got over it and realized that she didn’t really have much competition in the way of melee weaponry. The Spiegal flipped around and flew at the Nu at full burn. Surprised by this change of tactics, Makoto was caught unguarded as his opponent cut his beam rifle in half.

He barely had time to draw a saber and block the Spiegel’s other arm, also sprouting a blade. At least they were far from the city now, and he didn’t have to hold back.

The two suits went at it in mid-air, thrusters spewing flame and saber meeting blade with a buzzing fury. Makoto’s Newtype instincts allowed him to keep pace with the much faster Mobile Fighter, although he was still somewhat outmatched by Raelin’s close combat skills. Twice her blades came extremely close to striking his armor, only to be deflected at the last second as a lightning warning passed through Makoto’s mind. His shield was also scarred, as Spiegel blade attacks took their toll.

In the Spiegel, Raelin was beginning to tire. She didn’t know how long she could keep up this frenzy. Something tickled at the back of her mind, however…something someone had said…

The Nu attacked ferociously, Makoto sensing hesitation in his opponent’s mind. It pushed the mobile fighter back, and then unleashed its shield missiles. At this range Raelin had no choice but to weather the attack, crossing arms over her body in an attempt to mitigate the damage. Smoking, engines sputtering, the Spiegel did not come out of the assault unharmed.

Makoto let a tight, hard grin split his face. Despite the setbacks, he had her.

~

John Winston arrived at a darkened home in the suburbs. The lights were off, the garage was closed. He found his wife in their communal bed, fast asleep. He tried to wake her, but she just grumbled and turned over. John wanted someone to talk to. He lit the bathroom light, and sat on the toilet with his head in his hands. An explosion sounded somewhere far off. John, startled, sat up and bumped his head hard on the medicine cabinet. He cursed. That wasn’t fair.

A pill bottle rolled on the floor. John stared at it. Sleeping pills.

The grim ghost of a notion, long studied but never seriously considered, rose in John’s mind. He smiled melancholy.

In the next room, his wife stirred slightly in her sleep. Stupid bitch.

~

Lady Alexander remembered what that man had said. She focused deep within, finding the Gundam Fight burning in the center of her soul.

“Sturm und Drang!” Raelin yelled, her suit turning into a whirling dervish of blades and energy. The Nu attempted to back off, but it was too late. She was on him, around him, surrounding him with slicing wrath and fury. It was too late.

Disabled, the Nu fell to the suburbs below, crashing in an empty cul-de-sac. The power engulfing the Spiegel faded, and it hung lifelessly in the dark sky.

Outcome: Spiegel Wins, Nu Loses
Spiegel: 1 days damage
Nu: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Tallgeese II ambushes Ebirhu-S ambushes Tallgeese II
By: Perfect Zeong

Feyd Aurion, the Angel of Iblis, was beginning to think his attack on an Annapolis-registered mobile suit might not be turning out as well as he’d have liked. His target, the Ebirhu-S, was proving most elusive. Despite his Tallgeese II’s excellent mobility, his quarry always seemed to know where he was coming from, and was making good use of the terrain to his advantage.

Such deceit… Feyd thought, continuing to scan the surrounding area from his lofty position. A missile had destroyed his dober gun just as he spotted the mobile suit earlier, leaving him with just his beam sabers to finish the job. On the other hand, he calculated he had a definite advantage in speed and mobility. Where are you, you sinful coward? Feyd boosted over to a nearby hill to continue searching there.

---

Down below, Scarth Maheart, the owner of the Ebirhu-S in question, watched the Tallgeese buzz away like a giant hummingbird.

“That’s right, buddy, just keep poking around like that,” Scarth grinned, moving along under the heavy tree cover. His mobile reconnaissance pod peeked out from a tree, keeping its eyes on the Tallgeese and constantly providing Scarth with a firing solution for his weapons. However, Scarth was confidant that the nimble Tallgeese would likely be able to dodge whatever he threw at it, unless he got right in its face. Scarth looked to his shot lancer, re-affirmed his plan, and continued closing the distance.

---

Can’t drop down below the trees, that’s what he wants… Feyd thought, about-facing and plotting his next move. Got to lure him out somehow. Suddenly, Feyd could have sworn he saw something moving through his rear monitors. Ah hah! Feyd whipped around, beam saber in hand. Rather than a mobile suit, he once again only saw foliage. He was thoroughly befuddled. Wait… Feyd activated his cameras’ zoom feature and examined more closely what he had previously thought to be a branch. Upon close examination, it revealed itself to be a spherical pod with a trio of lenses and a brace of antennas sticking out of its back.

“So that’s your trick!” Feyd said aloud, a rarity for him. Readying his beam saber, he boosted towards the metallic voyeur.

---

“Oh, you are so finished now,” Scarth said gleefully, prepping his shot lancer. The Tallgeese thoroughly obliterated his observation pod with a beam saber – one panel in his panoramic cockpit promptly went to static. However, the Tallgeese was now facing directly away from him, and wasn’t very far away at all. Scarth slammed his throttle to maximum output and propelled his Ebirhu-S out of the trees, barreling at his target. The Tallgeese just began to turn around when his shot lancer slammed into its back. Scarth fired it, and a sizeable chunk of the Tallgeese’s upper chest and neck area exploded.

---

Conniving backstabber! Feyd mentally exclaimed, enraged at being attacked in such a fashion. Deciding he’d had enough of the company man, Feyd reached for his thruster controls and prepared to escape.

---

“Now squirm, you blue dork!” Scarth exclaimed, activating the shot lancer’s built-in machine guns and centering in on the back of the mobile suit’s head. Just then, something caught his eye: the inner rocket nozzles of the Tallgeese’s binders popped out and were now pointed right at him.

“Shit!” Scarth exclaimed. Deciding he’d rather lose the shot lancer than be burnt to a crisp, he jettisoned the weapon off his arm. Sure enough, the backwash from the rockets igniting propelled the Ebirhu-S back to the ground and the Tallgeese into the sky at a great velocity. But, despite being blackened in a few places, it remained mostly intact.

“Nice engines on that thing,” Scarth said to himself, examining the damage readout. “Ought to get me some of those…”

Outcome: Ebirhu-S wins, Tallgeese II loses
Ebirhu-S: 1 days damage
Tallgeese II: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Epyon versus Rasveht
By: Stargazer

Vladimir had yelled. He always yelled.

John Church grumbled. His “leader” was a dick, but there was little to be done. Church was determined if nothing else, and if hitching his wagon to the irate Russian’s was the fastest way to glory for he and his family, then he could deal.

So they couldn’t fight in the base itself, where John would have reinforcements and help a second away. They had to fight a few miles out, where if his opponent’s new ZERO system failed it wouldn’t destroy everything. Just him.

He had sure drawn the short straw on THIS one.

John’s Rasveht, along with its bits, surrounded a devilish red mobile suit. Mt. McKinley stood in the distance, uncaring.

“You ready yet, newblood?”

Sigurd was new to both the organization and his suit. The young pilot slowly lowered the ZERO system helmet over his head. The white, angular shape made him nervous. This was his first actual combat in the suit, and all the training in the world wouldn’t help if he lost control.

His voice muffled, but coming clearly through the comm, Sigurd responded in the affirmative. He flipped a switch.

His world was suddenly zeroes and ones, a binary swarm infecting every thought. He was gone in seconds.

“Let’s do this, then,” John grumbled, “Ok, now wait until I say go and turn on that new sys- FUCK!”

The Epyon leapt forward in a wash of green flame. The deadly heat rod extended, lashing violently. John backpedaled as quickly as he could, firing blasts at the incoming demon, which pinged harmlessly off its armor.

In seconds he was overtaken.

“You are my enemy,” Sigurd intoned emotionlessly as the heat rod tore through the Rasveht’s arm and chest armor.

“I will destroy my enemies,” Sigurd was lost in the ZERO system. The Epyon ignited its beam sword and disabled the other arm, burning through the Rasveht’s head like it was butter and then pinning the broken suit to the earth.

“I will destroy you,” The monotone announcement came over the comm. The heat rod lifted, glowing an eerie red. John said nothing, staring at the devilish Gundam in its radiant green eyes.

The Epyon rocked, violently. Sigurd was thrown against one of the consoles, the ZERO helmet protecting him from injury. Zeroes and ones changed subtly, reflecting new information from the battlefield. One Rasveht bit restrained the Epyon’s left arm, and another held tightly to the right. The two identical suits locked their arms around the Epyon, forsaking weapons as they struggled to hold the larger suit down.

Shots began to reflect off the Epyon’s wings and back, harmless but threatening. A stray blast could cripple the suit’s thrusters. The ZERO system realized this.

John was helpless in front of this titanic struggle, as the Epyon began to thrash. The bits held on to the best of their ability, but first the right and then the left were thrown akimbo, useless against the might of the red suit.

Ignoring the blasts still incoming from the rear, the Epyon moved forward once again. Sigurd was gone now; John knew, in a sudden Newtype flash of knowledge, he was going to die.

His face hardened. “No.” He wasn’t going to die…not today. Not like this.

Rasveht bits began to throw themselves at the Epyon. The larger suit took minimal notice of these distractions, halting only once to slice one completely in twain with its huge beam sword. Another bit took advantage of this pause, putting its body between its master and the Epyon and drawing a beam saber. It locked with the much larger sword, stopping the advance, but falling as the heat rod took its legs out from beneath it.

The three remaining bits renewed their assault as the red suit continued to its prey. One blew apart as the heat rod lashed it – the second lost an arm to the beam sword before backing off.

The last Rasveht bit managed to strike true. Its beam saber ran straight through the Epyon’s head, sparking as it sliced through the cameras. The Epyon’s slow advance halted. John sighed. This test was done.

Or so he thought.

The Epyon came back to life, ZERO system intent on John’s death. It ripped the offending Rasveht unit to pieces in half a second, heat rod and sword working in perfect tandem. The smoke cleared and it strode forward once more.

Church decided that he wanted to live, if only to request risk pay from his employer. This was too much. The final Rasveht bit, missing an arm but still determined, stood in front of the Epyon defiantly.

The ZERO system didn’t even consider. It acted.

John’s command flashed through the psychic airwaves faster than the Epyon could ever move. The surviving Rasveht detonated its fuel reserves, erupting into a massive fireball and completely engulfed the red suit and almost singed John’s crippled craft.

When the smoke cleared, only the charred frame of the Epyon stood. It was still intact, amazingly enough. Rasveht parts littered the scene.

“What…what happened?” Sigurd’s disoriented voice came over the comm, sounding confused. Inside the blackened Epyon, he pulled off his helmet and opened his cockpit.

On the ground, emerging from the Rasveht’s gutted corpse, John Church yelled indecipherable curses and flipped Sigurd the bird.

Outcome: Rasveht wins, Epyon loses
Epyon: 3 days damage
Rasveht: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Haricots Frais
By: Trent

Rigid, dark; an oblong rock, gigantic in size, tumbled through space in artificial orbit of the sun. Small spacecraft grouped around the structure. They were ferries, transporting personnel to, and minerals from, the resource satellite MO I. Despite a number of recent Drake’s Legacy raids, no mobile weapons or ships provided escorts to the caravan.

Monique Benoit smiled in note of this fact. Her Penelope rested in the void, computers automatically maintaining a position in reference to the facility’s trajectory. “Haricots frais,” she spoke, French accent pronouncing each syllable deliberately, beautifully.

Reaching with mental hands, she plucked two funnel missiles from their racks. The small, spear-shaped rockets sprang to life as thruster bursts propelled them across space and towards the convoy. A half-minute later, fleeting orange flames appeared and disappeared at the engines of the lead craft.

“Annapolis installation MO I,” her words were commanding, but hid a hint of glee. “This is Monique Benoit, Guardsmen of the Lunar Empire. Please cease all activity and prepare for boarding. This resource satellite now falls under my control.”

Distortion replied across the COMM frequency. Piquing an eyebrow, Monique was about to call forth another duo of missiles when a gigantic hangar door opened on the asteroid. “Guardsmen, this is Alexander Chevalier, commander of MO I. We wish no casualties; you are free to enter.”

“Haricots frais, en effet,” Monique whispered to herself. Penelope’s backpack verniers and apogees gave several quick spurts, and the mobile weapon headed forth to claim its prize.

Outcome: MO I captured
Penelope: No damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Stargazer ambushes Maxter
By: Victory 2

“Vroom! Vroom! VROOM, BABY!” The Maxter rode upon its surfboard-like shield, sliding effortlessly across the massive, sparkling waves of the South Pacific, touching down periodically to send up giant sprays of water towards the sky. In its cockpit, M3LB (‘Marcus the Man, the Myth, the Legend… Baby’) added his own sound effects to the proceedings. Throngs of onlookers gawked from the beach as the stylish mobile suit seemed to dance above the ocean. Bikini tops littered the sands, as crazed women worked themselves into a frenzy at the mere thought of being so close to the presence of the world’s foremost expert in the ways of pleasure. Men wept at the realization that he was Marcus De La Ali III Jr., and they were not – but they could not hate him for it. Might as well hate the sun for shining, as it did today in glorious fashion. It could almost be called – dramatic pause – Pimptastic.

“Yeah, that’s the shit.” Pleased with the way his day of recreation was proceeding, Marcus executed a perfect cut across one gigantic wave that rose up nearly to the Maxter’s knees. As the other surfers scrambled to simply avoid being crushed by the wave’s incredible force, the Maxter rode it into the beachfront. As it neared the mass of humanity, Marcus spotted one particularly beautiful beach bunny, limping tragically upon a twisted ankle. She would not be able to avoid the wall of water, or handle herself once caught in its destructive power! “This is unacceptable! The power of the pimp protects all women of the world!”

So saying, Marcus goosed the Maxter’s thrusters, jumping ahead of the wave and smashing his shield into the grains of sand near the injured girl. The swell dashed itself against his barrier, water spiraling off around it, leaving the woman unharmed. Opening his cockpit and jumping down, Marcus landed near her prone form, resplendent in his mobile trace suit with a pair of board shorts and his ever-present sunglasses overlaying it. He dashed to her side, where she lay in awe at his approach. He came to her, drawing her up into his arms. The sunlight twinkled against his shades, and it almost seemed as if a halo of illumination surrounded his body. Marcus opened his mouth, and surely words of great import would emerge.

“Yo baby, you good?” She swooned in his arms, lips barely parted. Never one to disappoint, Marcus leaned in slowly, inching ever closer towards giving this fortunate girl the greatest gift womankind had ever, would ever know…

VROOM

This time no oral sound effect, the thrusters of the Stargazer sent it sailing overhead, as a beam pistol shot sped from the white suit, impacting the foot of the Maxter and sending it tumbling into the sand. Marcus stood up from the woman, a single small tear glistening in the corner of one of her eyes, knowing what she had just lost. “Sorry babe, wasn’t meant to be! It’s not you, it’s me,” M3LB yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted to his suit before the attacker could come around and fire again. He acrobatically hopped into his suit, the Mobile Trace system activating, and righted it as quickly as he could. Slinging his shield underneath him once more, Marcus headed out to sea after the Stargazer. Though the crowds cheered him upon his departure, he moved now with a far more serious purpose in mind this time.

The Stargazer came about and CT Weaver scanned his sensors for the mobile suit his contacts had assured him would be in this area – they had even been willing to transport him near its location, and repair the damage he had received in his last encounter with the Hildolfr and Jack in Diamond – for a hefty fee, of course. The underground was not in the habit of performing charity. Through tinted vision, he attempted to locate his opponent, when his AI informed him of a rapidly approaching contact. CT tried to see the threads that would show him the combatant, but before he could grasp them – they were so hard to see sometimes, without ‘help,’ the Maxter was upon him. Its traveling speed upon the shield was far greater than he had anticipated.

The two suits slammed together, with the Maxter shoulder-tackling the Stargazer and sending it careening backwards. CT quickly brought himself back under control, his familiarity with his controls affording him a practiced ease in combat. As the Maxter, too, attempted to regain its composure, he sent another few blasts at it from a beam pistol, though most missed the suit and sizzled into the waters below. A pair, though, clipped the Maxter upon its shoulder armor and one hip, destroying a gigantic magnum. The two suits stood opposite each other for a moment.

Marcus stared out from the Maxter at the bright white Stargazer, as CT’s blue eyes, invisible behind his goggles, likewise gazed at the Maxter.

“Damn the Man, always trying to keep a brotha down. Aight, I’m Quick, and you Dead.” Marcus grumbled, as he flipped the remaining magnum pistol into one hand and sighted down the barrel carefully. A blast erupted from the weapon, crossing the distance between the suits in an instant. However, the Stargazer’s powerful Voltaire Lumiere propulsion system captured the blast, and controlled it. A ring of energy surrounded the suit, spinning in the air. Inside the Stargazer, a warning indicator noted the rapid depletion of the battery unit while the system functioned, but CT focused instead on the battle at hand. The threads, he could see them with greater intensity now.

The Stargazer blasted forward, firing twice at the Maxter, but the nimble Gundam fighter dodged both and moved to attack. His shoulder armor slid down his arms, forming the shape of massive boxing gloves, though one looked more like a shredded pillow due to the damage sustained from the pistol hit. Upon seeing the amount of damage that the pistol had inflicted, Marcus’s eyes narrowed, and his posture even changed slightly, from brash cockiness to assured readiness.

Floating above the waves, the surfboard dashed forwards, Maxter riding on top. As they neared the Stargazer, Marcus jumped off, flying at his opponent, while the board itself was angled to impact it at the knees. However, Marcus was not prepared for the immense cutting power of the Voltaire Lumiere’s defensive ring, and the surfboard was split in two pieces, where it lost altitude and was quickly swallowed by the clear blue water. He managed to strike a glancing blow with a rushed kick, but had to quickly jet away to avoid getting beheaded by the glowing ring.

With its battery quickly passing the halfway mark in terms of power used, CT knew he needed to force the issue. One bright thread flashed in his mind, an idea that seemed to him to accomplish his goal. He jetted forwards, allowing the ring to touch upon the surface of the ocean. The immense energy immediately sent up billows of steam, distracting Marcus momentarily and preventing him from fully dodging the Stargazer’s approach. The ring sliced cleanly through his left hand sending it down… And sending Marcus into a paroxysm of rage.

“My… My… That was my PIMPSLAP hand, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Grabbing the magnum once more, he recklessly fired blast after blast at the Stargazer, yelling obscenities about ‘goddamn honkies’ the whole time. CT’s defensive system caught beam after beam. Eventually, it became almost impossible to see the white suit behind a haze of spinning orbs of power… But before Weaver could take advantage though, the rings began disappearing. The sheer power required to control the huge amounts of beam weaponry scything about the air had effectively depleted all of his remaining power at once.

In his mind, CT saw the warnings from his onboard AI about the failing power of his suit’s battery supply. He could see that the Maxter was still more than operational, and realized what he needed to do. It filled him with great sadness, but he moved his hand to the eject controls. “Goodbye, my Holistic Gundam… I’m sorry.” With those simple words, he launched himself from the suit, his ejector seat splashing down safely in the waves below. The onboard Stargazer AI held the suit suspended in midair, the tiny reserves of power it did have left going to its propulsion systems. So filled with rage, and still ranting slightly in his Maxter, Marcus didn’t even notice the small pod’s impact, and moved to repay his foe for the injustice of his actions.

“Learn this, and learn it well, fool. Ain’t nobody, and I mean NOBODY, gets between Marcus De La Ali III Jr., and his duties to the world! Take this! Machine Gun PUNCH!” Swinging his hand forward, he used the force of his passion to ignite the flames of his burning firey— well, to make a long story short, Marcus threw his might into his attack, and flashes of energy burst from his remaining fist, as he bored it deep into the Stargazer’s chassis. The blasts tore apart the mobile suit, smashing through it and effectively immolating the entirety of the functioning components. The suit seemed to slip backwards for a bare moment, then detonated in a massive blaze. The explosion threw the Maxter backwards, crashing it into the warm embrace of the equatorial waters. Bobbing in the waves, unseen by Marcus, CT radioed his contacts for pick-up, thinking wistfully of his destroyed suit.

“This is News Channel Seven, reporting live from the scene in our special remote aerial team. Chopper Nine, bringing you the best in island news, all around the world! We have rare footage showing the final moments of a massive brawl between world champion Marcus De La Ali III, Jr., and an unidentified assailant. The assuredly evil fiend attempted to interrupt the world’s beloved guardian during a time of quiet rest and reflection, but as you can see from these images was thwarted, and possibly killed, in the attempt. De La Ali, emerging victorious once again, had this to say over his Gundam Fighter’s loudspeakers as he headed off to one of his many palatial mansions.”

-Cut to footage of the Maxter, heavily dented but still functioning, heading into the distance. A giant voice boomed over the Pacifc: “Don’t NOBODY mess with the Pimptastic! No. Bo. Dy. I’m out. Peace.”

Outcome: Maxter wins, Stargazer loses
Maxter: 3 days damage
Stargazer: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Xi versus Victory 2
By: Perfect Zeong

Xi and Victory 2 stood on the Nerevarine, white and blue sentinels watching a wave of darkness creeping towards the Archangel-class carrier. Normally sun-blasted rocks still held onto some of Sol’s heat, but its ambient temperature dropped from 500F to –100F in the space of two hours. The dark side of Mercury was almost as brutal as the Sol-side, a pitch black maze of frigid depressions left from asteroid impacts almost as old as the planet iself. The gentle thud of the Nerevarine landing in one of the planet’s many craters jolted the pilots in their cockpits.

“Shall we begin?” Astrophel Govannon’s tone wasn’t unfriendly, but there was a clip to it that matched the hawkish lines of his face as he activated the V2’s Minovsky Drive System. He wasn’t intentionally distant, but he didn’t like getting too close to people before he knew them well enough. “However…” he thought, “…he seems like a good man.”

“Ouais.” (Yeah.)

Years in the Foreign Legion had marked Lassiter, his fluent French as much a trophy as the scars on his body. The Xi Gundam was a full four meters taller and sixty tons heavier than the smaller V2, but Lassiter didn’t underestimate the opposing mobile weapon, or the Newtype that piloted it. In fact, Xi’s own Minovsky Craft System was a predecessor of the V2’s Minovsky Drive, both systems letting their respective mobile suits hover inches to feet off the ground without any assistance.

The mobile suits flew off the Nerevarine’s bow, darkness hiding all but the white flames of their jets. Not a word passed between either Guardsmen; their units went in separate directions, both of them stopping several kilometers away from the other. They gave no signal, intoned no motto – they were just two Newtypes extending their awareness as far as possible. Shrouded in abyssal darkness, both pilots relied on preternatural senses (and to a lesser degree their sensors) to guide their respective mobile weapons through the craters as they began to duel.

***

Eight funnels searched for the V2, four sent out in the cardinal directions, the others moving north-west, north-east, south-west, and south-east. Xi was immobile, mostly hidden in a cave at the edge of a crater, Lassiter barely breathing as he sat in his cockpit with eyes closed. He almost felt as if he was with each of the eight remote weapons, like he was flying over the terrain himself, searching for Astrophel amidst oblivion.

Completely on a whim, Lassiter sent one of his funnels towards a tight valley to the left. “I see you,” he whispered. Xi emerged from its hiding place, Lassiter grinning as he marshaled the remote weapons back to his position.

***

Despite, or rather because of the blackness, Astrophel felt more alive than he had at any point before. The V2 skimmed less than a meter over Mercury’s jagged surface as he avoided natural potholes, opting to travel through a ravine that he was – somehow – sure would take him in Lassiter’s direction. He could feel something probing for him somewhere to his left as he maneuvered the Victory through a tight, narrow crevice, avoiding crashing only because of a familiar tingle in the back of his head.

A flash. Without thinking, he pulled the suit into a tight climb, beam wings igniting as he blasted out of the ravine, a series of explosions forming beneath him. “I couldn’t have avoided that even a month ago,” relief and satisfaction lingered in subconscious thoughts, as he kept the Victory 2 in its rapid climb, the funnels beneath him giving chase.

Craning its head downwards, the winged Gundam’s vulcans spat shells at the eight funnels, which had begun hounding him with their beams. The sixty-millimeter rounds caught one of their targets immediately, detonating the remote weapon’s power reserves in a brief flare. Still the other seven kept up as doggedly as any swarm of hornets, two of them scoring simultaneously, the Victory’s left foot reduced to an inoperable stump of melted structure, despite Astrophel’s abrupt leveling.

Cussing, the pilot tried training his beam rifle on the pursuing funnels – a difficult shot made worse by the darkness, in addition to a constant need to dodge his pursuers’ continued fire. With inhuman reflexes, he altered the Victory’s flight direction again, this time to his left. Now flying horizontal to Mercury’s surface, he opened fire on the mass of pink dots chasing him, the beam rifle tagging a second funnel right before it fired.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Atrophel. As he contorted to avoid another series of beams and banked to the right, he realized Lassiter was corralling him with the funnels. “But to where…?” he thought. Recognition donned on his face; the obvious answer was straight over Xi’s position, where the combined might of remote weapons and Xi Gundam would almost guarantee victory for Benoit.

Despite being a friendly duel, something clicked in Astrophel – a desire to find out just how far he had come in his recent battles. The hawkish features went slack, and the pilot saw clearly what he had to – he knew, instinctively, how to annihilate his opponent’s plans. Astrophel’s face hardened, hands pulling V2 into a screaming climb, the funnels predictably giving chase. However, the ascent came to an abrupt halt when the Guardsman turned of his engines and freefell headfirst back into the pack of wolves.

***

The Victory 2 was on its way. Lassiter could feel both it and Astrophel through his suit’s psycommu system. He kept the funnels hounding, trying to drive his rival towards the crater that concealed Xi. So far his plan was working perfectly, with Victory less than a kilometer from the ambush point. Skilled, though the younger pilot was, Lassiter had experience on his side. He knew from his time with the Legion how to drive an enemy onto vulnerable ground – it was one of the first lessons learned.

When Victory 2 began its climb, Lasster sensed more than saw the suit outrace his funnels with almost casual ease. At that time, if but for a moment, he touched Astrophel’s mind – nothing deep, no coherent thoughts, but he empathically felt one profound emotion: confidence. A split second later, Victory began its dive, disregarding the funnels as they tore into its back and shoulders. Only when fully immersed amidst the cylindrical flying-barrels did the Gundam flash back to life, massive beam wings suddenly igniting. The suit twisted through the cluster of funnels, spinning, dropping, six explosions bursting around it as Astrophel careened towards the ground. He stopped only a meter above impact, and hovered. Victory 2 resembled an alien glowing amidst the void as it flew straight towards Xi, a pink glow forming at the tip of its barely visible beam rifle.

Lassiter pulled out his own rifle, sending Xi into a similar climb to the one Astrophel had just performed. The Victory’s shots slid off his beam barrier harmlessly, Lassiter’s own weapon equally useless, the wings of light blocking each shot. Even if the beam wings hadn’t functioned as both an effective shield and a giant bullseye in the darkness, Lassiter would have known where the Victory was. He had never felt like this before, such a total sense of oneness with Gundam and environment. For a second, he thought of loosing missiles, but part of him understood it would be a useless endeavor. Rather, he knowingly dropped his rifle and birthed a saber.

***

The newly created scarlet blade was easily the most visible part of Xi. Astrophel understood the invitation for a more traditional duel; he ignited the Victory 2’s beam shield. Yet instead of simply dropping his rifle, he threw it straight at Xi. The weapon disappeared into inky darkness between both opponents, only to materialize a meter in front of its target, smashing into Xi’s head and crushing its outer armor. Force of impact destroyed the gun completely, and sent Lassiter’s suit reeling backwards as Astrophel drew his own saber and engaged Xi in melee.

Quickly recovering from the impact, Xi was able to meet V2’s first swing with its saber. Astrophel darted sideways, trying to flank the larger opponent, narrowly blocking a responding slash with his beam shield before leaping back out of range. The Xi was big, but still agile – it waited for Astrophel to advance again, weapon held in typical fencer fashion.

Smiling with the glory of battle, Astrophel feinted left, quickly adjusting Victory 2 to the right and slashing for Xi’s sword arm.

***

In close range Victory had the advantage with its smaller size, but Lassiter kept pace with Astrophel as he blocked, countered, recountered, blocked, and so on, only taking a light slash to his Gundam’s sword arm. He could feel sweat soaking the clothes underneath his normal suit as his hands and fingers danced over the controls in his cockpit at an almost frantic pace. Beam sabers were the only source of light around either duelist, leaving bright pink after-images in the darkness as they danced. Feint, block, parry, dodge, jump, swing, feint again. The pattern was self repeating – the two pilots matched blow for blow until Astrophel simply flew past the Xi, a micro-second flash of pink visibility heralding the resurrection of his wings of light.

Warning klaxons were nearly deafening, drowning out Lassiter’s profanities as his Gundam toppled, the right leg divorced from the rest of its body at the thigh. He was rocked about the cockpit as Xi hit the ground, and arms flailed on the controls wildly. Out of sheer luck, his sword managed to remove V2’s arm with a random swing. But it wasn’t enough to put Astrophel down.

Victory 2 straddled Xi, beam shield on its remaining arm raising high, before slamming hard into Xi’s midsection. The plane of plasma cut through armor and internal structures as effectively as any beam saber. Again and again the strikes fell, each one tossing Lassiter about as readout screens highlighted the damage inflicted. Out of desperation he slammed the button housing his sand barrels, and the ballistic force released sent Victory two twirling into the air – several hundred holes turned chest armor into Swiss cheese.

Landing hard, Astrophel didn’t have time to react before a convocation of funnel missiles sprang up from racks about the Xi’s armor and angled straight for Victory 2. The explosions were minute, with so little oxygen to fuel their plumes, but no less lethal than on Earth. The white Gundam became a charred mass of metal, put down for the count…

“I give!” Astrophel cried. The barrage ceased ringing in his ears, and mind stopped reeling from Newtype warnings of danger. Not even thinking to make sure his cockpit hadn’t suffered a breech, he threw off his helmet and gasped for air. Sweat flung from his flooded brow; he was exhausted, but couldn’t help a sincere laugh. “Good fight, my friend.”

“Oui—I mean yes!” Lassiter returned. He had energy enough to activate his tracer beacon before he lidded his eyes and collapsed into meditation. Soon the Nerevarine would pick them up, and he could contact his sister at MO I with tales of this epic class.

Outcome: Xi wins, Victory 2 loses
Xi: 3 days damage
Victory 2: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Usurper
By: Trent

Belphagor blasted across the marked, scarred Mercurial outback at top speed. Tyr knew, glancing at his rear monitors, that Nerevarine would not be far behind. This was a decision of impulse; perhaps he was betraying the trust of friends and allies, but no one got ahead in life by refusing the initiative.

Pieces of destroyed Leos flashed beneath the speeding mobile suit. Horizon Line appeared ahead; Tyr smiled. “Orb base, Horizon Line. Welcome to the Empire.”

Outcome: Horizon Line captured
Belphagor: No Damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Ebirhu-S ambushes Justice
By: Perfect Zeong

Scarth Maheart was feeling rather confidant of himself. Two days before, he’d ambushed a high-performance mobile suit and came out on top – a victory for superior planning and tactics. Now, with a new coat of paint, a new shot lancer and a replacement reconnaissance pod, Scarth and his Ebirhu-S were on the lookout for another potential target.

“Maybe I should camp out by an enemy base or something…” Scarth said aloud. The outside temperature was nice, so Scarth had left his cockpit door open – combined with tipping his linear seat back as far as it would go, he was able to kick his feet up onto part of the hatch and at least enjoy a fairly leisurely stretch. His reconnaissance pod was planted onto a dead tree nearby, constantly scanning the horizon in all directions for something he could take a shot at. Finally, as he was beginning to drift off into a nap, a proximity buzzer jolted him back into awareness.

“Hmm, let’s see here,” Scarth said, checking in on the screen that was dedicated to the pod’s view. It was just a speck on the horizon, but thanks to the pod’s high-magnification lenses, he was able to definitively make out the form of a mobile suit. As it got closer, Scarth was able to discern some features on it, including some kind of sub-flight system which he deduced was responsible for its ability to stay airborne. “Ah hah, I think this’ll do rather nicely…” Scarth said, beginning to plot out its flight plan and where he would intercept it.

---

“Stupid transformable mobile suits…” Logan Hunt grumbled, remembering the surprise he’d gotten the other day. “Not going to make that mistake again.” Among other thoughts, he’d also concluded that attacking an airborne target from the ground was “for the birds”; he had a sub-flight unit and by God, he was going to use it! Further thoughts of taking the enemy by surprise from above were interrupted by a lock-on alert.

“What?!” he exclaimed, quickly looking around. A rocket was rapidly closing on him from the ground. Logan issued a sharp turn and dropped altitude, narrowly avoiding being struck by the incoming warhead. “Oh, great, now somebody’s after my ass…” Logan snapped his twin backpack-mounted beam cannons over the Justice’s shoulders and fired at the source of the smoke trail.

---

Scarth, who had already relocated when the beams struck his previous position, was more than a little irritated that his initial attack was a failure.

“Maneuvers better than it looks,” he frowned, re-calibrating his firing solution to reflect his new position. The reconnaissance pod, which continued to go undetected, proved most helpful in this task. “How about this one, then!” Another rocket-propelled grenade blasted off his mobile suit’s shoulder, this time scoring a direct hit on the Justice’s wing. To his shock, however, the thing not only remained airborne, it didn’t even look scuffed! “Son of a bitch, that thing is tough…”

---

“Punk!” Logan exclaimed, growing further irritated by the continued sneak attacks from below the trees. Instead of his canons, Logan decided to try one of his favorite toys: the beam boomerangs. Logan crossed Justice’s arms over its torso, retrieved the beam boomerang from the opposite shoulders, and then flung both of them towards the origin of the smoke again. Trees tumbled over and dirt flew into the air, but both boomerangs emerged again and headed back towards him without striking their intended target. “Oh, come on! Quit hiding, you wimp!”

---

“Boomerangs?!” Scarth said incredulously as one cleaved down a tree not thirty feet from where he was moments ago. “And I thought this mobile suit had an unconventional design…” Scarth charged his shot lancer, then detached it from his mobile suit and gripped it in the one manipulator hand. “Hate to part with you again, but this guy really needs to get the picture!” Scarth sent the shot lancer like a javelin towards his quarry.

---

“I’ll root you out eventually, you… hoodlum…” Logan searched for a word to adequately describe his thoughts, but found it lacking. Suddenly, as the boomerangs were about to return to him, the Ebirhu-S’s shot lancer rocketed out of the trees at him. “Shit!” The lance stuck Justice’s left wing and discharged, sharply knocking the mobile suit to one side. Despite the hit, the Gundam’s Phase Shift armor held off the blow – the sub-flight system was merely dented. “You scumbag! I’ll-” Logan was cut off as his beam boomerangs, expecting to be caught, slammed into him, hacking the Fatum-00’s wings and most of its structure off. “Damn…!” Logan seethed as he plummeted towards the ground. As he fell, something caught his eye: the Ebirhu-S’s reconnaissance pod, innocently planted on a dead tree and watching his tumbling descent. As he crashed through the canopy, he spotted something else: for the first time, the Ebirhu-S itself, some distance and a few trees away.

---

“Heh, how’d you like that?” Scarth chuckled, drawing a beam saber. “Let’s see your armor stop one of these!” Scarth was about to fire up his boosters when he caught a beam rifle’s discharge to the Ebirhu-S’s arm, sending it (and the saber) careening through the air. “…oh. It would have one of those, wouldn’t it…”

---

“How d’you like that, you sneaky jackass?” Logan grinned, firing off another shot that missed the Ebirhu-S’s body, but did detonate its remaining rocket propelled grenade, obscuring the mobile suit with a great blast and ensuing cloud of smoke. When it cleared, however, the Ebirhu-S was gone, and judging from the lack of debris, it hadn’t been taken out in the explosion. “Hmph. Showed you what for.”

---

Some distance away, Scarth scowled at the result of his attack. He’d lost his shot lancer (again), half an arm, and the other wasn’t responding to his controls – a damage readout indicated something was broken in the shoulder actuator as a result of the grenade’s explosion.

“Screw those boosters…” Scarth muttered. “I need to get me some of whatever that thing was made of.”

Outcome: Justice wins, Ebirhu-S loses
Justice: 2 days damage
Ebirhu-S: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Introducing the Mountain
By: Trent

Earth’s Orbit

Earth rotated quietly, a blue light imposed against the sheer blackness of near space. On its bright side, wisps of cloud rolled over the mesh of verdant greenery, sprawling mountain ranges, and immense deserts that was Southern Asia. Gathering from the west, a swirl of cumulonimbus pressed towards Japan – a precursor to coming rains. Yet eastern skies held a truer threat. Descending night crept ever-nearer; it passed over North America as a solid blanket of darkness.

Lonesome in orbit above this rich tapestry of nature, Akatsuki road a centripetal course atop its subflight reentry pod. The golden suit was merely a spec in perspective to the planet. Even its luminosity could not compare to the bright beacon of life below.

Mhus Dalahk’s eyes rolled feverishly beneath fallen lids, the pair of crimson irises baring witness to nightmarish images and insecurities only his past could imagine. Sweat dabbled the pilot’s forehead. He slumbered inside a normal suit, the helmet’s red-tinted visor casting his anguished face a demonic shade. Akatsuki’s cockpit was dim, save for a few blinking reds and yellows. The sight of Earth on his monitors was tinted.

*beep*

A sharp tone cut the silence. Mhus woke instantly, in time for his gloved pointer finger to switch off the alarm before a second tone. Groggy eyes blinked back to reality. Light flooded into his cockpit. Earth now shone in full glory, dominating Akatsuki’s view screens.

‘Synchronizing with alpha_’ a message wrote itself in tiny, white letters on his console’s computer. ‘Proceed with drop_’

Mhus didn’t need further instruction. Apogee thrusters blared outside his cockpit, streams of white exhaust correcting the reentry pod’s velocity. It fell, meter by meter, into Earth’s clutches. The golden suit would ride Japan’s coming storm into the terminator line.

- - -

The Skies Above McKinley

Three ships – two white, the third purple – hung suspended high above Earth’s surface, blending quietly into the cerulean evening. Only the most minute of lights flickered on each vessel’s hull, every measure taken to reduce their presence. The Pegasus-carrier Kamikaze Pony was edged slightly forward compared to its two escorts, but the Gold Doubloon and Millennium Diva stuck close at its flank.

On the Pony’s bridge, Captain Yamizaki grumbled all manner of curses to the untrained Annapolis crew members that occupied gunnery, navigation and communication consoles. Truth be told, he wasn’t anymore acclimated to the rigors of battle than they, having spent the better part of his life as an accountant before going clinically insane from paperwork overload and rampaging from cubicle to cubicle with a makeshift knife constructed of paper clips and a staple remover – but they were “fucking idiots” and he “was not.”

“Patch me through to the hangar you worthless son of a bitch! I want that sweet piece o’ ass Ariel S’moanin on the screen now!”

“S—sir, there’s no sign of Jester aboard our vessel!” the responding voice seemed to wince upon the last word. It belonged to a young company intern, barely out of high school, whose fearful stare was fixated on the captain.

Yamizaki smirked – not from amusement, or even bemusement, but out of pure disgust. “Son, you are by far the single greatest piece of shit I have ever had the displeasure of commanding. If you do not leave my bridge this very moment, I will drive your seat so far up your…”

Before he could finish, the intern was gone, headset left dangling off the console’s edge.

Letting out an audible “humph,” the captain nestled into his chair and continued to bark orders. “Someone call that bastard Nagano and tell him we’re commencing operations in fifteen minutes. If he fails to respond…” there was a heavy pause. “… all of you die.”

- - -

Gold Doubloon, Mess Hall

Reflecting against a large panel of glass that looked out into the empty firmament, a shimmering silver piece tumbled end-over-end back down into the palm of its master. It landed on tales.

Charlie Cordova’s own reflection wasn’t so clear; his drab blue jeans and white t-shirt were the only features that really stood out on the transparent surface. It failed to replicate his pierced, furrowing brow, or the distant expression in his brown eyes. Drunkenness hinted on his face; not a joyous stupor, but rather, a deep melancholy.

‘We’re men of faith, Charlie. People like us don’t last long unless there’s a person or cause to champion…’

The line played in memory as he took a swig from an, appropriately, silver flask.

Behind him, CT Weaver hunched over the back of a chair, staring skeptically at the blue-carpeted floor. Masked by green goggles, sober eyes shook in their sockets. The tremble echoed in his extremities, through hands and feet, into fingers and toes. This uneasiness was just physical, he recognized. Off of drugs, he couldn’t see the world-weave, but he knew it to be real. He knew this sterile, static weave – aboard the Gold Doubloon – would soon be rendered into chaotic threads.

“Don’t drink anymore,” he said in an even tone, head craning slightly leftwards to look at ‘the jack.’ Together, they had fought dozens of enemies, decimating the spider’s web. ‘The tank kid’ had fled this fight, but he was also a part of Holistic Gundam’s weave. CT wished him well.

“One more to Messaoud,” Charlie raised his flask in a salute, and gargled down the last remnants of bourbon. Wiping his moist lips, he loosed an intoxicating belch. His long, tall musculature stretched wide with a yawn. Despite appearances, he too was more-or-less clear-headed. The flip of a coin had ordered his participation in this coming assault. There was no need for questions, no need for worry.

- - -

McKinley, Concourse

Gargantuan, reinforced luna titanium doors opened with a calamitous squeal of metal-on-metal. Above the cracking maw, rocks and dusty snow shook from their perches, raining down onto the empty concourse. Even the gigantic, Cyrillic lettering “??????? ????” rumbled against its bolted mounts. McKinley’s main entrance was designed to test the threshold of a nuclear blast, and it announced this strength to the surrounding mountain range.

Inside, a convocation of soldiers, mechanics and pilots gathered beneath one man. He spoke from atop a raised platform, bathing in spotlights that focused on a red flag hanging on the wall at his back. The Minerva-class Vindicator sat to one side of the crowd, the land battleship Bandaal framing the other. Leo and Virgo mobile suits stood at attention aboard both vessels, cannons pointed towards the ceiling in salute.

Clad in full black dress uniform, left breast marked by a litany of colored war ribbons, Vladimir Antonov clasped down on the stage’s steel railing with a white-gloved grip. Behind his right shoulder, Dresyon Bly’s towering presence exuded an air of stern confidence. Together, behind Antonov’s left shoulder, Claus and Dietrich Butcher also stood firmly by their exalted commander.

Raising an open palm, Vladimir silenced the low rumble coming from his gathered throng. The speech began somberly.

“Brave sons of McKinley, our home – our very ideals – are today pressed into question. An enemy advances, claiming this bastion is a threat not only to Orb security, but to the prosperity of our parent company, Annapolis. Our sensors have detected not just an airborne fleet, but also a vast contingent of terrestrial soldiers insulting McKinley’s borders.

“Did we provoke this assault? No. Are their grievances justified? No. Yet still they march…”

Something in Antonov’s demeanor shifted. Grave attitude switched to defiance in a split-second. Hands raised into the air and gestured wildly to afford increased force to his next words.

“Brave sons of McKinley, they attack for one reason: Jealousy! They look at this symbol of strength and know it is not their own! They are iconoclasts; they are children, scheming against elders because they can’t begin to understand the depth of intelligence, courage, or glory it takes to erect a structure so grand as our soaring mountain!

“They come in hoards, slaves to their own greed, obfuscated by the very night that birthed their evil ambitions! They bring against us weapons of mass destruction; terrible satellite cannons capable of consuming entire islands in a single burst!”

Again, the tone turned even, almost sad.

“They hide spies in our midst…” Vladimir’s looked at Atra Caelium, pilot of Hyperion Unit 1, for a split second. Lost in the masses, seemingly more bored than inspired, the androgynous, blue-haired Coordinator didn’t notice the accusation. “Do not hate these traitors. Mourn their lack of vision. Cry for their cowardice. But do not let anger guide your actions today. Prove that we are righteous. When given the chance, do not fell your enemy! Disable his mobile suit! Demonstrate that God is on our side!

“Hail victory!” Vladimir shot his right hand into the air, speakers in the spaceport shouting even over the roaring hum of Bandaal and Minerva’s sparking engines. Both ships lifted off, the latter’s shadow falling over the crowd as it emerged into the cold night. Bandaal wasn’t far behind, and as it left, so too did the mechanics, soldiers and pilots scattered to their stations, a cacophonous cheer carrying them into battle.

- - -

Kamikaze Pony, Hangar

The final of three Virgo mobile dolls mounted the hangar’s right-side launch catapult, disappearing a split-second later at an incredible speed.

Even with the trio of mechanical puppets gone, space was sparse inside Kamikaze Pony. James Matthew Eldredge was forced to watch their exit from inside Freedom, his keen mind crunching together a quick equation that wasn’t quite adding up.

“Delta-v compared to fuel consumption…” he mumbled. It took only a second for the numbers to work themselves out. “Launch catapults make no sense. There’s no appreciable advantage in terms of acceleration, and the fuel saved is almost inconsequential…” his words trailed off into a sigh.

This attack was beneath him. Why had he come? Temporary insanity was the only answer he could posit. Annapolis couldn’t order him; hell, they bribed him with a “free” ship. A ship he didn’t need, and knew was almost destined for destruction. The crew didn’t quite appreciate its moniker as much as he did.

Men of James’s intelligence don’t often find themselves bored, but trapped inside a cockpit with nothing to do besides waiting, he almost began to regret Ariel Samon’s premature departure. Where exactly she had gone was a mystery to all – one he was satisfied to ponder, based upon the specs he knew about Jester Gundam.

“Who pilots this thing?” Alexie Nicholi Romanov arched his neck all the way back, dumbfounded by the sheer magnitude of the green mobile suit that took up a sizable portion of the Kamikaze Pony’s hangar. His red Sword Calamity was dwarfed in comparison – a disadvantage Aleksei’s five-foot-six frame could wholly understand.

On cue, a pale figure clad in an ebony coat materialized from behind Quin Mantha’s foot. Long and dark, his facial features were hidden behind the downward-tipped rim of a gigantic hat. Firearms, archaic in appearance, dangled from his chain-like belt. The mysterious stranger gave Aleksei a firm nod, before boarding an elevator-like platform that raised him up to the green giant’s cockpit.

“Glad he’s on our side…”

Concentrated on the Quin Mantha and its strange operator, Alexie didn’t at first recognize he was being spoken to, let alone who was speaking.

“They say he’s killed over a dozen Knights, and carries their skulls in a leather pouch wherever he goes. Pretty crazy guy…”

Hearing reference to the Lunar Empire shook Aleksei from his trance. Noticeable venom flooded into his eyes. Some day, he promised, that number would pale in comparison to his wrath. “At least someone’s handing those Imperial bastards their due.”

“I don’t know. Seems a little harsh to me…” Lance Mithaniel came up and tapped Aleksei on the shoulder, finally getting the other pilot to recognize his presence. Both faces donned smiles of genuine warmth.

“How the hell did you get dragged into this?” memories of their duel, and Lance saving his life, played in Aleksei’s brain.

“I go where they send me,” he dodged the question. “How about yourself?”

“Works pretty much the same with me and Orb. Plus, I hear this ‘mercenary group’ at McKinley has some premiere pilots. Figure it’s a good way to sharpen my blades for the real threat.”

“Yeah, good point. Let’s just hope that idiot in the white mobile suit doesn’t screw us over again, eh?”

Before either could add to the comment, Kamikaze Pony’s hangar was draped in flashes of red. Warning sirens blared, and a second later, Captain Yazimaki’s voice announced: “Listen up you painful blisters on the ass of this fine ship! Five minutes until we’re descending into hell! Write your wills and suit up!”

- - -

Millennium Diva, Bed Chambers

Eight legs stuck out from beneath black satin sheets, the cover folding perfectly over the curves of three beautiful women and one Marcus De La Ali Jr. III as their bodies rose and fell in content slumber. A smile played on all their lips; the girls dreamt of waking up, so they could again be treated to a pleasure only ten thousand other women had ever known.

Marcus’s eyes opened into slits. Something had woken him – a foreboding feeling, rather than any alarm or call. Letting the world become visible to his mind, he slinked out of bed, finding it difficult to leave the pouting, unconscious moans of three companions.

Walking to the mirror, he admired his perfectly naked, chiseled physique and smiled as dim lighting reflected off his bald head. Today was a day of champions. He could smell it. Like every knockout victory in his boxing career, this night held a certain smell to the air – even amongst the recycled oxygen of his battleship, the Millennium Diva.

“Come back to bed, Marky,” one of his girls, a perfect blonde, poked her head up from the pillows. “I’m lonely.”

Marcus couldn’t help a grin. “Baby, I’d love nothin’ better than to hear my name on yo’ lips all day. But now’s the time fo’ action! And if I die, remember you was my last one. Okay?”

“Die, Marky? Don’t say that!”

“Baby, I dared to say it…”

- - -

McKinley, Surrounding Range

Crackling flames licked warmth into the night air. Four pilots shared a hot drink as their silhouettes gathered around the fire. None of them were talking, much. A few complimentary introductions, some well wishes, but all felt a strange sense of solitude amongst supposed comrades in arms. Why had they been sent to attack McKinley? Their answers were varied as the individuals themselves.

Makoto Nagano finished his drink and sat the stainless steel mug at his feet. “Looks like a full moon tonight,” he said, knowing well the implications of that statement. Friendly eyes set on Dash Holloway, who refused to lock gazes.

“Yeah…” Dash replied, looking into his drink from behind ever-present sunglasses. Something about the situation repressed his normal personality, super-imposing that of a concerned son. He thought of Luna – both the source of his ultimate power, and target of his greatest scorn. Shivers ran down Holloawy’s spine. He knew, today, his cannon must be used. Hopefully, not to the ends of killing.

Mthunzi Ying was outside the orange and yellow radiance, looking to Wing Zero for answers. She knew her presence at McKinley was integral, but realized she had come merely to justify once again escaping into the suit’s wicked cockpit system. Battle was her sole reprieve.

Xiss Blaire Nikolov sipped her beverage, eyeing Mthunzi with a sense of unease. Remembering Annapolis’s charity event, she was struggling to hold her tongue. Fighting alongside Wing Zero seemed an impossibility, but the Company ordered Gaia here to help quell an “overly ambitious member who misappropriated funds to construct a base with unaffiliated parties.” Or some babble.

Makoto was the first to notice three glowing blue lights descending from the dark heavens. Black frames masked the true proportions of the Virgos, but a friendly identification code was instantaneously transmitted to his PDA. Not a second later, a message from inside McKinley popped up on the screen:

‘Positions drawn. Doors open. Proceed.’

“Looks like your escort’s here, sweetheart. Best not keep them waiting.” Makoto’s nod of encouragement to Mthunzi was genuine.

She mistook it for creepy. Dropping her mug, she stepped into a wire dangling from her Gundam’s cockpit, and ascended into the torso.

“Just don’t activate that system until you’re in range. We’ll be there to back you up in just a few minutes!”

Wing Zero lifted off, its mighty wings folding outwards, releasing a wave of blue, incandescent thrust as it lifted into the air. The three Virgo units formed around the Gundam, planet defensors deploying to create an all-encompassing shield to protect the attack group. They proceeded into the night, straight towards McKinley.

- - -

McKinley, Concourse

“To your stations, men! Let the righteousness of our operation lend you strength against the coming onslaught! Prepare for glory!” The gray and blue Perfect Zeong stood tall and proud atop the Bandall.

The giant land battleship’s hangars opened below, out stepping eight Leo units and one golden-painted SUMO.

Simao Gomes didn’t feign obedience to Antonov – nor did most of the more experienced pilots at McKinley. Vladimir was a brilliant man, and they were thankful for his training, but in the end most were bound by opportunity. SUMO’s heat fan and beam gun were defending the base out of principle. “They’ll come,” Simao assured himself. He could almost sense the presence of Gundam fighters in the opposing forces. “One by one…”

Gathered around the Orb fighter, the Leo units were bolstered by his legacy. Brandishing dober guns, bazookas and beam rifles, they would remain at range while SUMO tackled anyone foolish enough to challenge the former champion in melee.

McKinley lingered behind them, a wall of gray-purple rock covered in light snow. The concourse itself was surrounded by craggy outcroppings on two sides, with just a narrow, natural “entranceway” in the front. The defense troops were corralled into this gigantic semi-circle, protected from ranged attacks not only by the terrain, but also an I-field barrier generator buried deep underground. Missile, laser and cannon turrets dotted the mountainside. Vindicator hovered above their positions, protecting from aerial bombardment. The battlefield was not icy this night; storms would not be an obstacle to either side.

John Church shuddered his sight and reached out with Newtype senses. Rasveht bits stood outside, while he remained within McKinley. Their cameras fed him important tactical information, and he knew his orders: “Fill the gaps.” If any of his comrades went down, one of his suits would be there to ensure none of the enemy broke through.

Rafflesia was stationed at the forefront of the concourse entrance, petal binders spread out, tentacle heat rods already twisting and writhing in expectation of the kill. Leighton Anderson was fully immersed in his Neo Psycommu system, helmet wires falling like chaotic vines all around his body. The cockpit was otherwise devoid of mechanisms, made personal only by a picture of Rei Ayanami taped to the yellow dome above Leighton’s head.

Edgar Weinglas and Atra Caelium stationed their Physalis and Hyperion Unit 1 below the Bandaal. The former had refused a piloting suit, preferring a posh black-velvet vest worn over a deep-indigo designer dress shirt. He had no doubts in his mind as to the outcome of this battle. One way or another, McKinley was going to stand. If it meant taking desperate measures, that’s what his nuclear-armed suit was designed for.

Atra Caelium was equally confident. Despite Antonov’s doubts as to his loyalties, one thing was for certain: Hyperion Unit 1 existed on this battlefield to protect the men he’d been training with for the past two weeks. Perhaps his loyalties weren’t absolute to the leader himself, but Atra felt an obligation to protect those he could in this battle, and preserve the mighty Mount McKinley from this onslaught.

Yet both were suspiciously surrounded by a group of five Virgos. Vladimir had insisted it was “for their protection.” Edgar felt his shield would be protection enough…

- - -

The Swayze, Hangar

Sazabi and Epyon stood opposite each other on The Swayze’s two launch catapults. One armored in ebony, the other a deep and sinister red, there was an indescribable kinship between the units. Some mystical bond that transitioned centuries and millennia, and focused on the ideals of twin visionary aces.

Wade Warren pressed outwards with a bubble of his consciousness. Psycoframe-amplified Newtype perceptions came flushing in as a buzz of sensations, emotions, and clearly-pictured thoughts. He could feel his comrade’s love for his wife. He knew the joys of returning home every birthday to surprise Matthew and Joy with presents. He held Lisa’s body in his arms, sweating together, forcing himself into her…

“Those belong to me,” Sigurd’s white, domed helmet popped up in a portion of Wade’s panoramic monitor. By his tone, it was obvious Epyon had yet to enable its deadly system. For this, Wade was thankful.

“Sorry man, still getting used to all this. Won’t happen again.” A little embarrassed, Wade withdrew his mind back into himself.

“Don’t worry about it. Not like I can’t understand the growing pains of a piloting system.” Sigurd’s tenor was friendly and forgiving.

“Ha. Tell me about it. I’ll stay out of your mind so long as you don’t destroy my ship on the way out.” Uneasiness and doubt suddenly crept into Warren’s mind. He thought of Marlon, and the other two Mahiroo pilots. They had trained well these past few weeks, but this was real battle ahead. No one in McKinley, and probably few on the other side, were ready for a conflict of this magnitude.

“… no promises…” was all Sigurd could muster.

- - -

McKinley, Catacombs

McKinley’s interior was a network of dark, damp, twisting bowels no sane person could possibly navigate without losing a little something of their mind along the journey. Raelin Kiley Alexander darted from hallway to hallway, jumped down into inky black pits, and leapt across vast caverns. Invisible to the naked eye, Spiegel had little problem slipping past the sensor array, and getting into the fortress undetected. Now, it used maps provided by an inside agent to attack directly at the beast’s heart: the I-field generator.

Rushing behind, an equally invisible Ariel Samon called upon all her gymnastic abilities to catch up with the more experienced Gundam fighter.

They were quiet, multi-ton frames moving as if weightless. Ariel wanted to question why stealth was necessary, when the enemy was preoccupied with fighting upstairs. But she refrained, knowing the mysterious Drake’s Legacy had reasons beyond her knowing.

Faster, their feet pounded against ancient stone. A dim, green light caught both girls’ attentions some distance up the corridor.

Raelin stopped. Ariel continued forward, only to be caught in mid-stride by Spiegel. On contact, a direct frequency opened between the suits.

“Not yet,” Lady Alexander whispered. “There’s movement up ahead.”

“How do you know? For that matter, how did you see me?” Ariel was equally hushed.

Spiegel let go of Jester without reply, taking several quick, unseen steps forward. Raelin remained on her toes, weight shifted back a little incase she needed to spring up on this new threat.

She felt a hand brush her shoulder. “It’s me,” a new, male voice crackled over the line. “Sorry I lost you back there. Had to avoid a patrol of Leos.”

Raelin smiled. “Thank the Lord,” she moved Spiegel’s hand to clasp Blitz’s shoulder. “I thought you had been picked up, sir.”

“Just took the long way around,” he said, no gusto to his voice, just the facts. “There’s someone in that next room. Otherwise, sounds quiet.”

“Gotcha,” Raelin nodded, not thinking that Erebus couldn’t see her. “I’ll move first, you second, Ariel third.”

“Ariel?” he asked.

“Found a disciple along the way…” Raelin shrugged a laugh. Spiegel broke off contact and went back for Jester, guiding the mobile suit back towards Blitz. “Count to fifteen,” she ordered. “I’ll jump in on five, Erebus will go ten, you come in on fifteen. Erebus stays cloaked, we become visible upon entrance. Questions?”

Ariel wanted to ask why, but again, felt it better to watch and learn.

“Start counting… now…”

Spiegel removed its grip on both mobile weapons, casting the trio once again into quiet. Dripping water off a nearby stalactite marked each second. “One, two, three, four…” Ariel said aloud to herself.

Two breaths later, Spiegel jumped into the green-lit room, appearing out of nowhere in mid-flight. Blitz wasn’t long behind, its footsteps echoing through the corridor. On fifteen, Ariel followed suite, Jester birthing into sight as she cart-wheeled into the chamber. She landed in a crouch, right behind the more-experienced Gundam fighter.

The hollow was about five stories tall, equally that length wide. An I-field generator attached to the ceiling was the source of green illumination; the light barely made it from top to floor, and the farthest corners of the room were pitch black.

Providence stood, back turned away from the attackers. DRAGOON bits were nowhere to be seen on the mobile weapon. Indeed, slight movements close to the I-field generator indicated some had taken up defensive positions around the device. Others hung on the weathered walls, barrels pointing out from natural hiding-spots.

Everyone froze.

“Get to the walls—“ Raelin was about to suggest, before five Virgo mobile dolls came to life from the patches of darkness. Three planet defensers apiece popped off their shoulders, forming energy barriers that guarded their front, while the wall kept them safe from the rear.

They were surrounded.

- - -

Vindicator, Hangar

“Selecting the sword as module…”

Core Splendor sat on its launch elevator. Below, the sound of hydraulic lifts plucked the Sword Silhouette pack out of its designated second hangar. Glass walls rose to surround Serj Odadjian’s fighter craft, as well as the Sword launcher one level down. They began to ascend, bulwarks above the pilot’s head separating just before his cockpit crashed against hard metal.

Gloved fingers clicked over a set of buttons on the console. Impulse’s computer screen came online, highlighting the words “Generation Unrestricted Nuclear Drive Assault Module.” Serj’s other hand gripped tightly the craft’s joystick. Lights flashed on all about the cockpit, moving left to right in a rainbow of reds, greens, blues and yellows.

“All systems online. Beginning launch sequence…” the Vindicator’s communications vixen gave Serj a wink for good luck.

Core Splendor’s platform stopped. A blast wall rose behind its thrusters. Green arrows lit up, pointing his way out of the Minerva-class ship. Easing the throttle forward with his left hand, Odadjian elicited a powerful flash from the fighter’s engines. It rocketed over the arrows, flung from Vindicator’s launch ramp a mere second later.

Not long after, the platform holding the Silhouette flyer took its turn on the ramp. Then the Chest Flyer rose, propelled via linear catapult into the night. Finally, the Leg Flyer chased after its companion parts, leaving a contrail of white smoke in its wake.

Serj chose this moment to filter Norma Jean’s ‘Memphis Will Be Laid to Waste’ through his cockpit’s speakers. The pilot seemed to relax amidst a cloud of heavy-metal ecstasy, as Core Splendor ejected two stabilizing tubes from its wings and folded in on itself to create a vertical cockpit. Red lasers aligned it with the Leg Flayer, and easing slightly back on the throttle, Odadjian nestled the two pieces together. Once their connection was complete, the Chest Flyer snapped right on, giving the variable-framed mobile weapon the look of a true suit.

“One last package…” Serj could barely hear himself think over the throbbing speakers. He preferred it that way, especially with what he was about to do. Behind Impulse, the Sword Silhouette fell into place. Red and white cascaded across the Gundam, its Variable Phase Shift armor taking the color of pigments coded into its software.

Construction complete, the heavy machine remained suspended in the air for only a moment, before coming down hard on Vindicator’s hull. It stood high, looking out across the rigid terrain surrounding McKinley. Serj almost dared the attack to commence, Impulse reaching behind its shoulders to draw both anti-ship swords. In a flurry, he clasped the two ends together and twirled the massive, combined weapon above his head before bringing it down into a ready position as the blade came to life with pink energy.

“Dani, I’m coming for you…” he mouthed. Staring into the sky, Odadjian knew what had to be done. There was only one way to save the girl from Orb.

Outcome: Event continues

___________________________________________________________________________
Such Great Heights
By: Trent

The Skies Above McKinley

Movement from all three ships. Millennium Diva fell behind the Pegasus carriers, left to hover alone in darkness. Maxter, clinging to Kamikaze Pony’s aft stabilizing fins, raised an ungloved hand to wave goodbye to Marcus’s faithful crew. When needed, the Almaiya-class would descend to help carry wounded away from battle, but for now, it was left on the outskirts of action.

Inside Kamikaze Pony, Freedom mounted a launch catapult. Perpetual Phase Shift Armor showed the magnificent, sleek unit in all its white and blue glory. Eight black-trimmed wing tips already spanned out to enable Hi-Mat mode instantly at exit from the ship.

James wiggled his nose, positioning glasses onto a more comfortable place upon the bridge. Hangar doors opened in front of him, top part rising, bottom part falling. The pilot looked incredulously out, seeing only starry skies ahead. “Freedom Gundam, launching!” he cried, delicately pushing forward on the choke.

Pulled by its feet, the nuclear Gundam jumped into the sky. Across the ship, Double X took flight moments following. Golden fins and energy collectors fanned out from its backpack and legs. The twin satellite cannons remained facing down on either hip, but Lance knew if the I-field went offline, his was the only suit-mounted weapon in existence that could bring down a mountain.

Stargazer and Jack in Diamond were already awaiting their arrival, latter transformed to mobile armor mode as it rode heavy air currents. Neither of their pilots felt a hint of trepidation – both had fought side-by-side time and again, and survived more than one harrowing encounter.

CT saw Maxter bound off Kamikaze and onto its shield/surf board. The mobile fighter made a jerking cut against the rushing winds that sent it careening wildly to the side, before Marcus managed to right his trajectory with thrusters and float over to the now-falling attack group.

“Be prepared to jump,” Octavius, still not bothering with a piloting suit, showed up on Alexie Romanov’s panoramic monitor.

Quinn Mantha and Sword Calamity were stuck peering out the exposed hangar of Kamikaze Pony. One lone Leo, piloted by another company intern, hid far away from the opening. He had applied for a desk job, and clearly the paperwork had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

“You think we’ll make it down?” Alexie watched a cloud disperse as the Pegasus-class fell through its insubstantial accumulation. He watched Stargazer and Jack in Diamond pull away from the others. Gold Doubloon stayed beside Kamikaze Pony.

“Yeah, both of us will… You too, you hear me?” Octavius turned Quinn Mantha to face the shuddering Leo. “Get up, draw your dobergun. Pretty soon, it’s gonna be a lot out safer out there than in here.”

- - -

McKinley, Outskirts

Gundam X bathed in silver moonlight. Cannon extended over the right shoulder, Dash Holloway closed his eyes and imagined power drawing into his mobile suit from space. On his G-controller, he thumbed a red switch sideways, exposing a green screen atop the joystick. Outside, X’s chest glowed a potent emerald.

A blue display above Dash flashed ‘GX-9900, NT-001’ in yellow letters. A white guidance beam speared out from Luna. It met the mobile suit’s chest crystal as black reflector-panels formed a fitting ‘X’ shape as they unfolded from its backpack. The Gundam’s hands reached up to stabilize the cannon barrel.

A pulse escaped from DOME at the speed of light. Less than three seconds later, Gundam X was cast in a halo of perfect white energy. On his monitors, Dash watched an orange blueprint of his energy collectors fill to the brim with red. Outside, the actual collectors shone a bright blue.

Dash squeezed the trigger.

A wall of energy, thicker and taller than Gundam X, poured forth in a deluge of destruction. Fired so near the ground, a deep gouge split into the landscape itself, moving only slightly ahead of the blast as it crept towards McKinley.

- - -

McKinley, Perimeter

Wing Zero and its Virgo escorts pulled higher into the air as a sea of luminosity consumed the space they once occupied. Mthunzi Ying remained cognizant of her own actions, having yet to activate ZERO. She knew the time grew nigh. Part of her wanted to pull away, and deny the system her mind. Yet a truer side delighted at thoughts of becoming one with the machine, losing her identity and self and pain to battle tactics and programming code.

Thousands of small, fiery orange balls created a fireworks effect on the ground below. Even in places the satellite cannon didn’t strike, proximity to that amount of energy set off nearly all of McKinley’s vast minefields. The explosions glittered in her smiling eyes. It marked the time for combat. Her chest grew tight with excitement.

ZERO flooded all synapses. Instantly, the girl’s irises went wide, expression comatose. Sensors fed her information about every allied unit, every enemy position, every possible outcome for victory. Faces of ‘friends’ became targets. Faces of the enemy were reexamined as potential, temporary allies. In the end, ZERO worked for Mthunzi Ying’s deepest ambitions. She wanted nothing more than to fade away beneath a mask of battle. The gift was granted.

Gundam Wing Zero took control of all three Virgo mobile dolls. Acceptance of this assimilation flashed on their face panels. They remained in formation, but would now accept commands from none but Mthunzi.

“You are my enemy,” eyes narrowed. Having offered herself wholly to ZERO, the girl was rewarded as it took her foremost thoughts and turned them into targets. McKinley grew closer, and something analogous to a smile creased Mthunzi’s narrow lips.

- - -

McKinley, Concourse

Defenders dug heels into the icy ground. Vindicator dipped low, nearly crashing into the mountainside so it could enter the I-field’s safety. A few Leos wanted to turn and flee back into McKinley, but seeing Simao’s SUMO stalwart and proud, their confidence returned.

Virsago and Ashtaron stood behind Perfect Zeong atop the Bandaal, the brotherly units barely reaching past their commander’s legs. Inside, Dietrich and Claus held twin smirks. Nothing would tear them away from this battle. Indeed, the sight of X’s satellite cannon only enriched their smiles. It reminded them of a power not far beyond their own grasp.

Leighton Anderson held a front row seat. The charging, chaotic mass rode on a chariot of exploding landmines. White light soon became all-present, burning temporary spots in his retinas and forcing the Newtype to glance away. Rafflesia was only meters inside the I-field, but even if that were to collapse, its own beam barrier would surely protect the mobile armor from calamity.

The I-field held. Beam energy crashed into an invisible wall, flooding up and around and over Mount McKinley. Anything outside the aegis met annihilation, but the band of brothers aligned under Vladimir Antonov remained secure.

Perched atop Vindicator, Sword Impulse fell to a knee. Serj looked astonished to see X’s attack roll only a meter over his ducked head. It was a beautiful wave of flickering, inconsistent light – like a multi-colored, luminescent snake god slithering in the space above Impulse’s cranium.

“They challenge us with satellite cannons, and we get a well-lit battlefield!” Vladimir crossed arms over his chest and reared back his head in laughter, the image broadcast to every mobile weapon under his command.

- - -

Earth’s Atmosphere

Heat and fire consumed all of existence around Mhus. Tongues of friction-flame roared beneath the subflight reentry vehicle. Indicators on gauges and meters danced back and forth, his outside sensors no longer able to gain a coherent reading. The world was a rumbling rollercoaster, and Mhus gladly rode the tracks.

“Five… four… three…” he counted aloud, but skipped the last two numbers.

The bedlam ended, blazing Hell-planes transitioning into a clear night sky. Miles below, McKinley stretched up to challenge the heavens. Today, the celestial choir had delivered it answer. Akatsuki aimed its reentry craft directly for the titanic mountain, guzzling fuel to increase speed, rather than glide gingerly down to the surface. Mhus knew his Shiranui space pack wasn’t designed for combat in terrestrial environments, but realized this unique battle called for unique strategies.

- - -

McKinley

Missiles burst from the mountainside, white puffy contrails painting a frenzied path into the sky. Laser turrets opened fire, super-heated, compressed light blazing as red and orange beams that wiped out any molecules in their path. Gigantic, domed cannons rotated towards the heavens, mouth-barrels opening up and coalescing yellow mega particles.

McKinley’s commander clasped his hands behind his back as he surveyed a quilt of monitors. Sensor array data flooded in from all nearby regions, even sky-bound cameras getting their first glimpse of Kamikaze Pony and Gold Doubloon on a straight course for combat.

“Load another salvo and shower those ground forces with balefire!” he shouted, very reminiscent of a short-haired, brown-topped Vladimir as he gestured wildly, clad in deep black uniform.

Outside, the captains of Vindicator and Bandaal issued similar orders. The land battleship’s photon particle beam cannons raised up on its “shoulders,” aiming back along the same path as X’s dwindling satellite fire. Energy on the bridge fluctuated momentarily; all excess power went to feeding the hungry weapons. The multi-tiered Bandaal became a lighthouse as twin streaks of yellow decimation plowed flowed across the surrounding area.

Vindicator held steady for a moment, shots from McKinley’s coupled WaDom cannons cutting over to its aerial-location. Once the mega particles had safely passed by, wings unfurled from the flagship and its “beak” arched upwards. Simmering blue gathered around its engines, and a powerful shockwave sent it charging skyward to meet the opposition’s “fleet.”

Still aboard, Serj Odadjian’s Impulse knelt closer to the Minerva-class’s hull, winds roaring over and whistling through Variable Phase Shift armor. Inside, such dissonance didn’t penetrate the pilot’s shuffling music tracks. Rise Against’s ‘Prayer of the Refugee’ came on; it was a song dear to Odadjian’s heart.

“… and always did what we were told…” he whispered. Proximity flashes warned him of the coming Stargazer and Jack in Diamond. Looking out left-side monitors, he saw Vindicator loose a battery of dummy warheads in their direction. Both nimbly dodged the fire, and continued unimpeded towards the true fray.

- - -

McKinley, Outskirts

“Hold together!” Nagano ordered, Psycoframe reading his distress and automatically deploying fin funnels in a wide formation placed ahead of his entire team. The original salvo of rockets that had been fired from McKinley exploded harmlessly against the blue-tinted surface, producing impact waves like a pebble dropped into water. Makoto felt a pressure in his brain upon every detonation, but they each came as a reassuring sense of safety.

That comfort didn’t last; in fact, it was soon replaced by a premonition of death. Last of the missiles peppered his shield, and remote weapons separated. “Xiss, Dash, we’re moving.” The fisherman packed up his funnels, kicked the pedals on his linear seat, and flew diagonally forward and skyward.

Gaia contorted into quadruped mode, making a wide sprint to the left, while X broke right. Dash could feel uneasiness emanating from Nu’s cockpit. He was treated to mental flashes of a yellow wall, not unlike his own satellite cannon’s power, washing over all three mobile weapons, melting their armor before frames disintegrated altogether. Screams of his own death, and that of Xiss and Nagano, reverberated in his head.

“Where is that feeling coming from?” Dash asked, X simultaneously kicking off the ground it had just previously decimated. Verniers carried the suit high, nearly catching up to Nu before his answer came.

Like Wing Zero flying above the satellite cannon, they too saw the earth below disappear beneath an ocean of throbbing yellow. Heat sensors decried lamentations, both mobile weapons suffering slight aesthetic burns due to propinquity to the blast.

Gaia wasn’t even close. Pounding, thudding, charging across the earth, Xiss easily cleared ground zero utilizing superior speed. Once a safe distance away, she turned and bolted directly for McKinley, running opposite but parallel to Bandaal’s immense firepower. Patches of undetonated landmines exploded at Gaia’s feet, but Variable Phase Shift armor worked wonders against the conventional explosives.

“What next?” she mused. Illumination once again faded as the attacking mega particles dissipated. Not wishing to waste anymore energy, she skipped rightward and fell into the trench dug by X and Bandaal. Gaia beat divots into the exposed dirt with every footfall, never losing step in its lighting charge.

- - -

The Skies Above McKinley

Kamikaze Pony and Gold Doubloon jerked sideways, the trio of suits surrounding either craft breaking into a half-dozen tangents to avoid WaDom cannon fire. One shot came very near Maxter, but Marcus initiated an aerial loop on his surfboard, basking in the light of near-death and allowing the adrenaline to bolster his hardened muscles. The other skimmed Gold Doubloon’s starboard twin mega particle cannon housing.

“Keep moving!” Yamizaki’s chattering teeth and twitching eyes broke into absolute exuberance as he stared down a swarm of oncoming warheads. “This is life, boys and girls! Let’s enjoy every moment of it!”

Gaseous plumes sparked all over Kamikaze Pony, tearing away at the white ship while inexperienced anti-aircraft gunners desperately tried to swipe the fast-moving missiles from their airspace. Freedom and Double X lent their own ballistics to the shield, having better luck at striking down bogies before they impacted with the Pegasus carrier.

The storm lasted only so long before its point of origin became apparent. A Minerva-class vessel bearing identity codes naming it Vindicator grew visible as smoke from the missile barrage cleared.

“Finally…” Yamizaki’s smile only got wider.

- - -

McKinley, Perimeter

Wing Zero with Virgo escorts plunged head-first into a succession of deadly-accurate laser lances. Red points sizzled against the planet defensers, striking with such force that the barriers fell and mobile dolls were impaled shortly thereafter. Three pink puffs of loose gas signaled to ZERO its escorts were demolished, and the suit took evasive maneuvers to ensure it reached the target.

McKinley lay only a minute away. Wing Zero warned of a new threat, and Mthunzi adjusted her strategy accordingly.

Vernier cones all about the mobile armor Rafflesia sputtered into light, lifting its girth off the ground. Effectively the door to McKinley’s concourse, the rising mobile armor revealed a plethora of suits inside the compound, each hoisting up beam weapons or conventional bazookas to gain locks on the oncoming Gundam.

Wing Zero stopped in mid-flight. Calculations jumped from brain cells to computer chips, Mthunzi going over every possible pathway to success.

Rafflesia didn’t afford its target any leeway. Newtype impulses pulled a hundred triggers all at once. Pink mega particles showered forth from tentacle heat rods, scattering beam cannons, and any ranged weapon the behemoth could muster.

Barrel-rolling, jerking, careening wildly; Wing Zero knew its only viable road lay through the tornado. Shield was scorched, armor chipped, but Mthunzi was truly incapable of taking any other course. Glassy eyes ignored all visual stimulus; hands moved with such celerity that they left after-images.

Firing from below Rafflesia, two Tragos joined in the onslaught, shells shrieking from their shoulder cannons. Zero caught one shot with its piledriver, the already-damaged aegis crumbling into pieces that were casually discarded.

“I am going to kill you,” Mthunzi chanted soullessly. “I’m going to kill you all.”

As if bolstered by this statement, Zero disregarded all sense of safety. It refused to dodge anymore. Wings spread out, releasing maximum thrust even as they were pegged by a score of hits. Armor chipped away, but Mthunzi didn’t mind. She knew total, absolute release. The Gundam separated its twin buster rifle, giving one barrel to either hand as it prepared to plunge into a forest of tentacles.

Leighton’s face curled into an expression of agony. Shock donned on his eyes when he felt blood pour from his ears, dribbling down the sides of his neck. “I—I—I—“ his tongue wasn’t working; a full-on seizure gripped the pilot’s mind. Heat rods were acting of their own volition, many reaching out for Wing Zero, but the majority thrashing about so wildly they were cutting into the red mobile armor itself.

Mthunzi found herself in melee range not a moment later. Shucking off the tentacle heat rods, she burst skyward, flying over the Rafflesia and offering McKinley’s conjoined forces the first real glimpse of their enemy.

Scorched, with much of its frame exposed to moonlight, Wing Zero reached the zenith of its climb and cut all thrust. The mobile suit hung in limbo, momentarily, before entering a twisting freefall directly over Rafflesia. Unable to predict the erratic movements of their query, McKinley’s lasers and missiles failed to tag the Gundam.

Leighton looked at the picture taped to his dome, taking comfort in Rei Ayanami’s eyes. His damaged brain knew nothing but the bliss of clone fantasies when Wing Zero’s foot came crashing down onto his cockpit. Glass shattered; a mechanical, red sole crushed the Newtype outright.

Fluidly, Wing Zero sprang off the Rafflesia, aiming both twin buster rifle sections straight down as Mthunzi squeezed their triggers. Two columns of red-and-yellow mega particles erupted from the barrels, plowing down through Rafflesia’s stalk. The rig’s red armor seemed to inflate, bulge, before exploding outright.

Wing Zero landed in a crouching position, barely inside McKinley’s concourse, placed directly between the Tragos duo. Even as the smoking, smoldering remains of the battlefield’s first sacrifice crashed down behind it, the demonic unit raised its damaged face in a flash of emerald eyes.

“I’m going to kill you all…”

- - -

McKinley, Concourse

Vladimir Antonov’s right eye twitched with disbelief. Roosted atop the Bandaal, Perfect Zeong had a clear view of Rafflesia’s obliteration. The murdered Newtype’s mind was incapable of crying out during its last moments. Vladimir felt this, but wasn’t wracked with grief. Leighton Anderson had been a fine soldier; and what’s more, a better martyr.

“Do you see their treachery, now!? I said no man dies. They threaten to kill us all! Do not be tricked, sons of McKinley! Waste this fiend.”

Quiet astonishment held back the other defenders’ tongues. John Church, still tucked inside McKinley’s hangars, saw the entire display from multiple angles broadcast by his Rasveht bits. For the first time in all his military career, a gulp formed in the man’s throat. He looked lovingly at a picture of Alicia and Michael, vowing to return home.

Physalis and Hyperion stood together, surrounded by Virgos, the mighty presence of Bandaal dwarfing either unit. Atra Caelium and Edgar Weinglas stared across the courtyard, looking into Wing Zero’s eyes. The Gundam’s cracked shell wafted with black smoke, and its revealed innards sparked in multiple places across its frame.

“You heard the man,” Edgar adjusted his expression to optimism. Physalis’s vulcans belted out sixty millimeter tracers that arched over the distance and began to riddle Wing Zero.

Unit 1 did the same. Raising beam machinegun, Atra pulled the trigger and sent a chain of red divots right at Wing Zero’s chest.

The entire concourse followed their lead. Beams and bazooka rounds screamed from Simao’s SUMO and his Leo companions. Ashtaron’s claw cannons deployed, sniping off several shots as Virsago’s chest raised up to expose its megasonic weapon. Both brothers fired in concert, while the Perfect Zeong standing between them kept its own guns silent. Bandaal’s surfeit of beam barrels swiveled to face the intruder, yellow light flooding from their ends.

ZERO told Mthunzi her fate, but she knew no fear. Wing’s separated buster rifles had time enough to fire off to either side, wiping out the Tragos couple before the Gundam was engulfed in a battalion’s worth of fire. Wing Zero disappeared in a brilliant tapestry of greens, reds, and yellows.

Yet even as Mthunzi Ying breathed her last, there was no triumph amongst McKinley’s ranks. The sound of a whistling, incoming object broke any celebration of Wing Zero’s defeat. Looking to the mountain itself, the defenders saw a drop pod plummeting towards the peak. At the last possible second, a golden mobile suit disconnected from the subflight system, allowing the craft to crash into the mountainside in a fiery explosion, while it remained airborne and deployed a squadron of DRAGOON bits.

Opposite the Akatsuki, another two enemy mobile weapons arrived in McKinley’s airspace. Jack in Diamond transformed to suit mode, CT Weaver edging slightly ahead to act as human-shield for an incoming WaDom cannon shot. Stargazer caught the attack utilizing Voiture Lumiere’s mysterious properties, and ‘the weaver’ began to spin a deadly cocoon of green energy rings around its body.

McKinley’s sensor array alerted the base’s commander to another group, just outside the perimeter. Cameras revealed Nu and X. Gaia wasn’t far behind them, four legs taking great strides as it grew ever-nearer the base.

- - -

McKinley, Catacombs

“This is where your battle ends,” Dreyson Bly’s deep baritone shook across local COMM frequencies. Inside Providence, he wore no normal suit, preferring the fit of a company jacket and sunglasses. Adjusting perfect tie with one hand, the imposing pilot used his other to turn his mobile weapon around, face-to-face with Spiegel and Jester. “When your friends come to attack, I’m afraid they’ll find the I-field… quite operational.”

Lady Alexander and Ariel Samon were still. Eyes darted from Providence, to the Virgos, to the DRAGOON bits, back to Providence. Mobile trace systems reflected their uneasiness; Jester, in particular, seemed to be shivering.

‘Mother Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…’ Raelin’s black-gloved hand held an antique silver rosary, fingers one-by-one counting over its beads.

Erebus Gethen hesitated, gripping controls and throttle with sweaty palms. Blitz stood very near a Virgo, but he knew enough about mobile dolls to understand that, while they couldn’t see his Gundam, any attacks would certainly cue them towards his apparent position.

‘Blessed are thou, among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…’ Spiegel’s weight shifted, slightly, imperceptibly. The hand not gripping an invisible rosary suddenly held a stack of messergranz, ebony blades catching the I-field’s chartreuse radiance.

Dreyson could sense an impending clash. His mind focused on the DRAGOON system, spacial awareness urging remote weapons to ready. Chocolate brown eyes noticed a reflective surface in Spiegel’s left palm.

‘Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the our of our…’

Spiegel flipped backwards, tossing a spray of tiny blades in every direction. Green beams exploded against the ground on which Raelin once stood, DRAGOONs barely missing; Jester waited a second, and then charged forward through the haze, fist reared back to strike. Messergranz littered the chamber, splicing into one large DRAGOON bit, and two of the smaller remote weapons. They sputtered, power sources pierced, systems shutting off to avoid meltdown. Spiegel landed where Jester had knelt not three seconds earlier.

“Aaaaaaah!” Ariel shouted as her clenched fist crashed towards Providence. Three green beams fell from the ceiling, cutting the hand clean off right before it impacted. The smoking limb was withdrawn, Samon screaming in agony.

Grimacing at sounds of her comrade’s pain, Raelin was quick to reach forward and drag Jester away from more DRAGOON fire. The entire chamber became alight with green mega particles. Virgos remained safe, tucked beneath their planet defensers, but the two Gundam fighters were forced into sporadic acrobatics to avoid getting skewered. Soon after, the mobile dolls joined in with their own cannons, systems honing in on the less experienced Jester and preparing to put her down.

“Get out of here!” Raelin ordered, spinning sideways, Spiegel blades flipping into attack position. Thrashing wildly, the mobile fighter began to slice through beam fire, deflecting some shots back at the DRAGOON bits and causing one to explode. By chance, the eruption resulted in a falling wall, which crushed one Virgo beneath unforgiving stone.

Ariel didn’t listen. Face slipping into a mask of determination, the gymnast spiraled upward, coming back down to land on one hand, and using that to springboard straight for Providence. This time the attack was stopped by a mobile doll; it caught Jester in the lower abdomen, sending it sprawling to the ground.

“That’s hardly gentlemanlike of you,” Erebus muttered, Blitz taking this opportunity to make its debut. Birthed from seemingly empty space, a beam saber wedged itself between planet defensers and cavern wall, slicing into the offending Virgo’s cannon. Sheer luck prevailed for Gethen; the resulting explosion consumed his target, while the doll’s own remote weapons barrier contained the blast, preventing it from rolling over Blitz before the Gundam hopped away to a safer distance.

No time for congratulations, Erebus was rocked about his cockpit when another Virgo tagged Blitz’s shoulder. Using his previous attack position, the machines behaved just as predicted: tracking the Gundam with equations, rather than cameras. Realizing stealth was no longer an option, Gethen disengaged Mirage Colloid, only to have his Trikeros explode from the continued frenzy of DRAGOON bit fire.

Inside Jester, blood oozed between the gaps of Ariel’s clenched teeth. Vision grew blurry; she coughed, a loogie of ichors splashing against the cockpit floor. “No!” she slammed her fist onto the ground, mobile fighter mirroring this gesture as it smacked cold rock. Looking up, Jester stared into the barrel of a Virgo’s cannon, the weapon already gathering energy for a fatal blow.

“NO!” she screamed. Chi burned as white flame, pouring off the suit and spilling to the ground in waterfalls. The mobile doll fired, but its shot dissipated against the preternatural barrier. Jester stood, rickety, but determined. Ariel flashed back to her charity match; she remembered Marcus De La Ali Jr. III’s movements, and echoed them inside herself. “Burning Punch!”

Mystical fire blazed off Jester’s ruined, outstretched hand. A screaming dragon snapped at flame’s end, hungry, ready to bite into the Virgo. Planet defensers collapsed, armor melted – the mobile doll disappeared, but the attack did not. It rode the chamber’s walls around, washing over the remaining two Virgos and consuming them whole.

When the conflagration died, Jester collapsed, unable to handle the force it just released. Armor fell off its titanium skeleton, melting into puddles on the floor. No movement came from Ariel – dead or unconscious, there was no telling.

“Get her out of here!” Raelin slashed horizontally, cutting apart another green beam and sending redirected energy into the ground.

Erebus didn’t need to be told twice. Blitz darted back and forth, dodging randomly, struck on every side by Providence’s all-range fusillade. Phase Shift armor was helpless to do anything, but the Coordinator managed to guide his Gundam next to Jester despite taking a horrendous beating. Plowing its fist into the mobile fighter’s belly, he withdrew the cockpit compartment, electrical wiring and hydraulic tubes snapping as the heart was ripped out. Mirage Colloid flooded Blitz’s frame, flowing over its cargo as well.

“Don’t get killed,” leaving those parting words, Erebus escaped back into the corridor, making a mad dash for McKinley’s exit.

DRAGOONs ceased their fire. Dreyson Bly could sense two life signs had fled the chamber; he was determined to make sure a third did not get loose inside McKinley. Raising its mighty beam rifle, Providence took aim at a section of rocks above the exit. Two rounds belted out, hitting at the edges of a gigantic, loosened boulder. It fell, ruining the exit, ensuring neither soul would be leaving the mountain.

Raelin’s chest heaved up and down. Already, her body was strained, taxed to the limits of its speed and power. Seeing the exit disappear brought relief and resignation. Ariel and Erebus would be safe; she would soon be delivered to her Lord.

“Let us finish this, sir.”

- - -

The Swayze, Hangar

“… enemy breaches at multiple angles. Pilots, prepare to launch. Repeat: Sensor array has registered enemy breaches at multiple angles. Pilots, prepare to launch.” Loudspeakers transmitted the frantic, recurring warning to all corners of The Swayze. Two Mahiroo lined up behind Wade Warren’s custom-colored Sazabi, first of their number piloted by Marlon Wing. A third, manned by someone ‘Bohdi’ didn’t know, would be forced to launch behind Epyon.

Bellowing verniers lit up beneath Sazabi’s skirt armor. “Time to earn our paychecks, guys.” Hoisting its beam shotrifle in one hand, missile-loaded shield in the other, the giant mobile suit hunched inward and waited for the signal. Lights posted above its head went from red, to yellow, to green. “Wade Warren, entering the field!” Erupting blue engine wash carried Sazabi into the nighttime winds, chilly skies parting in its monstrous wake.

Not two seconds out the hangar, Wade’s brain flashed with Newtype premonition. Reacting instantly, he loosed an enfilade from his shotrifle, green beams streaking higher into the sky. Each shot hit dead-on the nearby Akatsuki, but fizzled uselessly against the specially-treated golden armor. “Well… bugger that,” Wade said, continuing with his mission rather than engaging further.

Sazabi gracefully curved on a downward angle, taking full scope of the battleground. McKinley’s units were lined up inside the concourse, Bandaal consuming a sizable portion of the courtyard’s flat, snowy terrain. They were surrounded on all sides, save for one, by grayish-purple mountain.

From the south, a group of three attackers pushed towards the only exposed side – jumping over what appeared to be Rafflesia’s charred remains. Another two suits fell from western skies. The golden unit was behind him to the east. Even now, McKinley’s laser, missile and cannon turrets were creating a deluge of firepower that coursed towards the offenders.

“Finally, the great deceivers show themselves! Men, stand fast! Don’t get tricked into duels. We fight together for the glory of McKinley!” Vladimir’s voice and image popped up on Warren’s panoramic monitor.

Giving a slight chuckle, Wade cut off communications and reached out with his brain. Thoughts, emotions, and premonitions again flooded his consciousness. A surge of pressure washed up from one of the suits in the southern force – another Psycoframe.

“Looks like it was worth sticking around…” Bodhi deployed his funnels, blue cylinders spinning as they popped off racks on Sazabi’s back. Barrels and stabilizing fins formed at opposite ends of the remotes, and they darted ahead of the parent mobile weapon on an intercept course for Nu Gundam.

- - -

McKinley, Skies

Akatsuki’s red thrusters snarled, straining against gravity to remain airborne as its master jerked the suit’s vibrating controls left. Five missiles screeched by; they detonated only a short distance behind his altitude, gaseous balls shining against golden armor. No sooner had Mhus evaded that attack, however, than a laser from McKinley’s mountainside tagged a backpack binder, snapping the extremity clean off.

In response, DRAGOON bits zipped down onto the peak, searching out heat signatures amidst snowy stones. Three shots were rewarded with three kills; two lasers, one missile launcher.

Success earned the attentions of a WaDom cannon, its domed head slowly pivoting around to set Akatsuki in-sights. Mhus grinned; he knew what the base couldn’t possibly. When the cannon fired, a great surge of power rushed around the golden mobile suit, no more useful than Sazabi’s shotrifle.

“My turn,” the Coordinator raised his beam rifle and squeezed off three shots. They transited the distance at speed of light, two missing, a third melting the virulent emplacement’s base. It didn’t explode, but was glued into position.

The Swayze moved between Mhus and the wounded cannon before a final blow could be felled. Ship-based machineguns rung out tracers into the night sky, sprinkling Akatsuki’s immediate vicinity with its greatest weakness. The Coordinator was forced to demand more of his engines, moving back and upwards to get out of range. This only elicited missiles; the rockets climbed higher and higher, but were intercepted by CIWS ballistics before coming close to their prey.

*ping*

An explosion rocked the Pegasus-class from within, fire and smoke billowing out of its portside, as hangar doors blew completely off. Swayze shuddered at an angle; two Mahiroo escaped via catapult opposite the one engulfed in blaze. The ship fell from its post between Akatsuki and McKinley. A cannonade of missiles and lasers filled the space previously blocked by Swayze – there was no dodging this time.

“Sahren…” Mhus laced eyelashes, praying for divine intervention. It came in the form of DRAGOON bits, instinctively reacting to his distress by forming a barrier between the golden Gundam and certain destruction. Like Nu’s fin funnels, only stronger, it held against four dozen radiating impingements.

Smoke lingered a good thirty seconds afterwards. Loosing held breath, Mhus only reluctantly felled the barrier, moving DRAGOON bits to a position hovering behind his back. It was time to descend; to fight on ground, where he could maneuver.

He wouldn’t get the chance…

Spinning on an uncontrolled descent, The Swayze’s coughing, sputtering portside hangar slanted upwards, pointed directly at Akatsuki’s position. Two jade pearls sparkled from inside a barrier of roiling black fog. A crooked, disemboweled Mahiroo fell forward from within the obfuscation. Behind it, Epyon stepped into vision. The dark-red mobile suit lingered amidst a backdrop of blaze, taking heed of Akatsuki.

Sigurd Atremite was no longer cognizant of his actions. Mind hidden beneath the smooth, white helmet of Epyon’s cockpit system, he allowed numbers and tactics to replace freewill. The Gundam’s green sword glowed to life; a sectioned heat rod already dangled from its diminutive shield.

“I will destroy you,” words that once spoke of love and reunion with family now voiced the telltale tone of ZERO slavery.

Wings opened out. Epyon leapt from its burning chariot, leaving The Swayze’s uninitiated crew to correct their freefall and crash onto a nearby plateau. The Pegasus carrier was damaged, out of action, but not destroyed.

Resolve, not fear, furrowed Mhus’s brow. Akatsuki dipped backwards, feet pointed skyward, head facing the ground. Space verniers flashed to life; they sent him into a harrowing dive for the ground.

Reacting a split-second later, Epyon gave chase, drawing a trail of green and red after-images with its sword and whip.

- - -

McKinley, Concourse

Nu hurdled over the remnants of a fallen red colossus, pressing into the concourse through McKinley’s natural gate. Fin funnels zoomed off its backpack and formed a tetrahedral womb around the Gundam, in addition to X and Gaia. For the first time, Makoto got a clear glimpse of McKinley’s amassed forces – and gasped from psychic backlash. Bandaal’s mega particle guns, one cannon, and a profusion of missiles and lasers all struck against his barrier at once. It collapsed, remote weapons exploding after taking a half-dozen hits each.

The assault didn’t let up. Dash walked into a hail of lasers; like hitting an invisible wall, he tried futilely to press forward. Too inexperienced, the famous pirate couldn’t rely on latent Newtype powers to save him. X trudged forward, but each step was met by burning red pikes or a cataract of beams from the land battleship. Holloway reached out with his buster rifle, but before he could squeeze the trigger, a Virgo cannon shot bored through the barrel, continuing down the Gundam’s forearm, and destroying the appendage outright.

X fell as a burning heap of slab, not far from Rafflesia’s similar remnants.

Gaia fared somewhat better. After leaping over the mobile armor, Xiss made a beeline along the concourse’s right wall. Variable Phase Shift absorbed missile detonations, the quadruped machine struck only by mobile doll fire as it padded towards the Bandaal. After a twenty-second sprint, Xiss transformed to suit mode, stumbling the last few steps to place her in a narrow gap between the Bandaal and the wall. For a few, wonderful seconds, no one could hit her without risking damage to the land battleship…

… until two Rasveht bits blocked the path before her, and two more trapped Xiss in from behind. Brandishing rifles held at their hips, they acted on orders from John Church, mechanical fingers depressing gigantic triggers.

Back with Nu, Makoto guided his movements on empathic impulse alone. Staring into a battalion of barrels, it slid left and right, bullets and missiles and mega particles whizzing by its head or crashing into the ground at the mobile suit’s feet. Fisherman’s patience kept Nagano alive; he centered himself, knowing that in a matter of seconds, help would arrive. Green Psycoframe light began to pool beneath his linear seat, but tightly-locked eyelids prevented the Newtype from seeing this manifestation.

*ping*

Relief played on his face. Makoto opened his eyes, seeing troops in front of him scatter as two new arrivals rained beams and napalm onto their heads. Stargazer and Jack in Diamond threw themselves into the group of Virgos surrounding Physalis and Hyperion Unit 1. Becoming a whirlwind of movement, both suits seemed to flash from opponent-to-opponent. One after another, the mobile dolls exploded before they could maneuver planet defensers into optimal positions.

Satisfied with their swath, the well-honed team moved away, leaving Hyperion and Physalis intact, but surrounded by debris. Stargazer and Diamond’s fixations turned towards SUMO and its eight Leo escorts. Three more mobile dolls bounded after them, programmed to fight, not to distinguish between losing and winning battles. Almost as an after thought, CT’s Holistic Gundam absorbed the mobile doll’s cannon fire, Voiture Lumiere wrapping the trio of beams around its body and sending them straight back at the Virgos – they were each bisected six clean halves tumbling to the snowy ground.

“Diamond Burn!” Cordova drew a long breath, concentrating fire into his lungs and releasing this power through Jack in Diamond’s chest. A horizontal pillar of roiling inferno turned ice to steam as it journeyed straight for SUMO.

Simao Gomes smirked, drawing his IF-field generator inwards and creating a three hundred sixty degree globe of protection around his suit. The ultimate attack rolled around its true target, creating twin paths of fire that crashed into a pair of unlucky Leos. Seeing their friends fall, the remaining mass-productions shouted curses, bringing to bear bazookas, doberguns and beam rifles that echoed their fury down barrels, and straight for Stargazer and Jack in Diamond.

Time stopped.

Bazooka shells hovered in mid-flight; beams pulsated, but hung frozen in space, some still partly inside their weapons. Six Leos surrounded Holistic Gundam and its partner, white puffs from their recent discharges hanging around the mobile suits.

SUMO, too, stood still. Its side was turned to Jack in Diamond, presenting the smallest possible profile to attack, as right arm stretched out a beam pistol. Deep within the gun’s stock, a spark of mega particle fire was about to jump out and threaten ‘the jack.’

Outside this slight circle, the land battleship Bandaal’s guns took notice of Stargazer and Jack in Diamond. Atop the vessel, Perfect Zeong’s fingertips glowed with beams not meant for CT – they aimed away, down, at Gaia Gundam wedged between the ship and the concourse’s rightmost wall. Indeed, four more rifles, held by Rasveht bits, also threatened the mechanical animal.

A WaDom cannon held a perfect lock on Nu. Additionally, six blue funnels and the black Sazabi’s torso mega particle gun were preparing to loose shots onto Makoto’s unit from the sky. CT knew, sadly, ‘the fisherman’ would not survive this barrage.

Lasers and missile turrets dotting McKinley’s mountainside were aimed skyward, targeting a falling Akatsuki. Tailing it, a demon gave chase, descending from the night sky like a furious, tortured devil released from the coldness of oblivion.

Physalis drummed out ballistics from its vulcan guns, tracers painting a course aimed at Jack in Diamond. Hyperion Unit 1, too, had its beam machinegun trained to kill Cordova.

Virsago had mounted Ashtaron, the twin units already swooping down to attack Stargazer on orders from Vladimir Antonov.

No one set of eyes could take all of this in, but CT Weaver’s preternatural senses understood every shot fired within the concourse in that single second…

… time started anew…

… a SEED exploded into brilliant color…

“The weave begins anew,” CT panted, eyes becoming pure dilation with only two black points for pupils.

Threads transposed with reality, revealing a new plane laid over the normal perceptions of mankind.

Holistic Gundam began to cut chaos into the spider’s meticulous web.

- - -

The Skis Above McKinley

“Dispar tubes five through eleven, target mobile suits… Fire.” Aboard Vindicator’s bridge, a stocky old man wriggled his broken, twisted nose. Short, feeble legs dangled off his captain’s chair, soles of their shoes just barely grazing the ground. His elderly, bald countenance was topped with a black hat. Stroke-paralyzed lips mumbled off calm, calculated commands. “Tristan beam cannons, target the lead ship.”

Tubular, anti-air missiles arched out of their racks on the Minerva-class vessel and whistled into the dark night.

“Stay behind me, you idiot!” James threw Freedom in front of Double X, his nigh-infinite Phase Shift absorbing warheads meant for both suits. “Charge that damn cannon of yours and blast this thing out of the sky.”

Freedom and Maxter rode powerful currents that placed them very-near the oncoming vessel. Four Mahiroo escaped from its linear catapults, but the two Gundams used beam rifles and magnums to peg the unfortunate "bugs" before they'd barely left the hangar. Marcus had been careful to aim for heads, not cockpits; James didn't afford his enemies the luxury of life.

Doing as he was told, Lance Mithaniel caught a gust of wind and fell back behind the task force. Pressing a red button on his enhanced G-controller, twin satellite cannons flipped forward as the Gundam requested energy from DOME. Lingering in the air, it was passed by Gold Doubloon and Kamikaze Pony, the two ships splitting up and charging to either side of Vindicator – they just barely avoided the twin, cyclonic meshes of white-and-red energy coming from the Tristan cannons.

The Doubloon responded by deploying mega particle cannons and taking aim for its enemy’s right wing.

“Anti-beam depth charges,” the Minvera’s old officer requested.

Balls of shimmering, sparkling granules lit up around the cruiser. When Kamikaze Pony fired, the two yellow beams dissipated in power, crashing against Vindicator’s hull but doing inconsequential damage.

“Now ‘dat just ain’t fair!” Marcus shouted. Maxter careened around CIWS fire, replying with magnums that pegged and destroyed three of the virulent domes. Weaving side-to-side on its surfboard, the mobile fighter was surprisingly aerodynamic as it circumnavigated the ship and tried to wipe out a Tristan. The mighty turret took notice, bellowing off a succession of shots that Marcus barrel-rolled to avoid.

Freedom spun upside down, Xiphias and Balaena cannons setting into firing positions. Lights reflected on James’s glasses; they indicated target locks, and he pulled the trigger. Four beams, two green and two orange, crashed against their targets, drawing quadruple explosions across a line of Vindicator’s missile launchers. In turn, another set spat out rockets, but this salvo was easily swatted down by CIWS fire. “How much longer are you going to take with that damn satellite!?” he berated Double X’s pilot, ignoring the pings of Minerva-mounted ballistic turrets that ricocheted inconsequentially off his armor.

Vindicator’s captain waited. His vessel climbed skyward, spitting out continual streams of CIWS rounds and warheads, and loosing hell with its twin Tristans. Freedom and Maxter buzzed around its hull, taking potshots, but doing inconsequential damage as they were forced to continuously weave and jerk to avoid getting struck by stray rockets or an occasional beam blast. Gold Doubloon and Kamikaze Pony were moving apart to let him pass between them, their commanders clearly trying to fly by the cruiser and continue their descent to McKinley.

"Arch right. Position Tannhauser," casually, almost bored, he commanded the deployment of his ships’ greatest weapon. A compartment opened on the Vindicator's forward section, ushering forth a blunt barrel that came to life with yellow indicator lights. "Fire."

Pivoting slightly starboard, the massive cruiser took aim at Gold Doubloon and opened fire. The Pegasus-class never had a prayer, disappearing inside a rippling surge of white vitae. There wasn't enough left to explode, just pieces of stabilizing rudders and shattered glass from the ruined bridge, which were unceremoniously caught by air currents and scattered to all sides of the globe.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" the Leo pilot aboard Kamikaze Pony's hangar nearly jumped ship, stopped only by Quin Mantha's massive hand grabbing its shoulder and tossing the suit backwards.

"What can we do?" Alexie stared at the blank sky where once Gold Doubloon flew. Sword Calamity, a primary melee unit with no flight capabilities, was useless this far above the surface.

"Wait..." was all Octavius offered. He thought, momentarily, about deploying his funnels and adding to the battle. But he knew, were Double X to succeed, they’d be eradicated – and he needed them for later. “Wait, and pray our man on that ship comes through…”

Kamikaze Pony passed along the Vindicator’s left side, dwarfed by its foe as they traded volleys of ballistic fire. Their armors were equally unaffected by the exchange, and the Minerva-class soared higher and higher while Pegasus dove at full-yield towards McKinley. Aboard the bridge, "Keep weaving! Don't give them a clear shot!" Yamizaki barked orders.

Aboard the Vindicator, its captain prepared to order the pilot to steer them around and give chase, when a white light streaking off Luna caught his gaze. Seeing Double X, he allowed the first hint of emotion: disdain. "Ready Isolde cannon! Take out that Gundam before it can charge the satellite cannons!"

- - -

Vindicator, Forward Hull

Explosive bursts created a pyrotechnics display all about the Sword Impulse. Still riding the Vindicator’s forward section, perched directly ahead of the compartment housing Isolde, Serj Odadjian didn’t pay attention to the battle ensuing outside his cockpit. Inconsequential was the Gold Doubloon’s destruction, or Maxter and Freedom’s continual strafing runs.

Heavy metal music thudded Impulse’s internal speakers. The pilot’s vision was transfixed on a different time, a different place…

Of a chance, fleeting meeting between two peoples’ eyes…

Of a girl, whom he knew only for one night…

Of his efforts to help her escape a life of torture and slavery…

Of his imprisonment at the hands of an unjust government…

Of his arrival at McKinley…

Of his orders…

Of her name…

“Serj!” the earlier communications vixen cried out. “Get off of that point. We’re about to fire Isolde!”

Turning around, Odadjian saw the mighty turret raise from its hiding space inside the ship, tri-barrels pushing out of the gigantic base and almost touching the Gundam that laid in its path.

“Serj! Please! If we don’t fire on Double X, it’ll wipe us out!”

He cut off the COMM. Slowly, strangely, he glanced from the Double X – its entire frame now alight with power – and back to the Isolde. Sword Impulse still carried its magnificent dual-blade at the waist, pink edge humming with undeniable power.

“Dani…” the man’s whiskers parted to let out an ephemeral whimper.

Heavy metal music ended. The last song on his play list came up, out of place amidst such raucous company: Postal Service’s ‘Such Great Heights.’

… a SEED burst into brilliant color.

Outcome: Event cancelled

___________________________________________________________________________
Freedom Isn't Free
By: Trent

“James, what the fuck did you just drop off of my ship… twice?” Captain Yamizaki’s voice boomed over the intercom in Kamikaze Pony’s hangar. “Because to me it looked like you jettisoned eight trillion credits worth of company cargo into Earth’s atmosphere. Please tell me you didn’t just destroy eight trillion credits worth of mobile suits. Nothing pisses off an accountant more than wasting credits – especially eight trillion credits. And when this accountant gets pissed off, people tend to die. Namely you. Do you want to die?”

“Be quiet, old man. Or I’ll take your captain’s badge away.”

“I swear to God, if you back-talk boy, I will turn this bitch right into the sun!”

James shrugged. “I’ll just hop ship.”

“Using what!?” the captain’s voice was growing louder, more irritated. Crew members in the background were crying.

James thought for a second. “Good point. Carry on.”

Outcome: Self-detonation
Freedom: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Hyperion Unit None
By: Trent

Atra Caelium finished tightening the last explosive satchel to Hyperion Unit 1’s chest, pausing a moment to glance into his faithful Gundam’s eyes for what would be the final time. Perched above its cockpit, he had a clear view of the Martian landscape. Centuries, perhaps millennia ago, humanity had terraformed the once-red planet and turned it into a second bastion of life. Now, his mobile suit stood in a field of tall grass, the green blades flowing beneath gentle winds.

“No better place to die,” he nodded a solemn goodbye to Hyperion before leaping down and walking over to his jeep. No small amount of bemusement played on his face when he realized the electric-powered vehicle had but five minutes of juice left.

Riding off into the distance, he closed his eyes when an explosion rocked the landscape.

Outcome: Self-detonation
Hyperion Unit 1: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Maxed Out
By: Trent

“Baby, we’ve had some good times. Ups, and downs, and plenty of knock outs…” Marcus De La Ali III Jr. seemed almost sheepish when addressing his Maxter. He refused to look up, and rubbed the pointed toe of his gator-skinned shoe against the ground. “Baby, it’s not you. Okay? It’s me. I’m… I’m just not ready for commitment. I’m too young, too inexperienced – too sexy.”

So much as it pained him to say it, Marcus knew something had changed inside of him. Two weeks had passed that he couldn’t account for – he really needed to lay off the crack. Maxter had served well in the ring of life, but his furious fists beckoned for greater feats.

“What I’m trying to say, baby… is that we need to see other people…”

Three rays of light lit up around the mobile fighter’s chest, before the entire rig exploded outwards in a shower of shrapnel. Standing directly beneath the explosion, Marcus’s specially-tailored Armani suit jacket flapped in the shockwave – otherwise, the pimp of all pimps remained unphased.

Outcome: Self-detonation
Maxter: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Going Nucular
By: Trent

Situated atop a sandy plateau overlooking Death Valley, Gundam Physalis prepared to bid farewell the dusk-fallen sun by creating a tiny star all its own.

“It’s a shame I never got to use this on anyone else. After all that haggling on the price, it would have been nice to blow up something…”

Inside the cockpit, Edgar Weinglas pushed all the way forward on his control stick, causing the nuclear mobile suit to crane its upper torso forward until the bazooka in its hand pointed directly at the ground. A warning light indicated the Mark-82 warhead was locked and loaded, and warned the current firing solution “wasn’t optimal” for safety.

“Oi vey. Always with the moaning, just like my mother!”

Setting the controls to auto-fire in ten minutes, and making sure his bag of secret gold was secure around his neck (as well as searching the cockpit for any spare coins), Edgar exited Physalis for the last time by parachuting off the plateau and landing in a Ferrari Enzo. Tires spun out and a cloud of sandy dust kicked up in the car’s wake, following it all the way to Las Vegas.

Outcome: Self-detonation
Physalis: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
The Name Game
By: Trent

“Sir, we’ve done as you asked. There was quite a bit of complaining, but adequate bribes were levied to city officials, and we managed to take care of Providence. The total dead were some two hundred fifty thousand, and forces are mopping up survivors as we speak.”

Sitting behind his desk within the newly minted Tharsis base on Mars, Vladimir Antonov looked at the young Annapolis intern who delivered this news. “Excuse me?” he asked, right eyebrow arching inquisitively.

“Providence. You ordered it destroyed as a favor to Dreyson Bly for his service at McKinley. Said you’d pay to rebuild a newer, better model.”

“Yes. But why were there casualties?”

The intern didn’t quite understand. “You didn’t ask us to evacuate the city beforehand…”

“… did you blow up Providence, Rhode Island instead of Providence the mobile suit?”

- - -

Dreyson Bly saluted the real Providence, blissfully unaware of the genocide performed on his behalf. The Gundam was colored completely in flat gray, with a dozen different high-yield explosives at his feet. Bly was a good quarter-mile away when he pressed a tiny detonator in his palm. Seconds later, the mobile suit disappeared behind a fiery mushroom cloud.

Outcome: Self-detonation
Providence: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
The Archangel Damien
By: Trent

“Please hear me Lord… please help me…” the girl’s tears rolled down her soot-blackened cheeks, cutting streaks of white along their soft angles. Raging flames from her mobile suit’s remnants fed plumes of black, thick smoke that wafted into the air all around Lady Alexander. She began to cough; to choke. Eyes burned. She tried to crawl away, but it was too late. Vision went from red to black, as the girl passed out amidst Spiegel’s wreckage.

- - -

Two days later, Raelin awoke with a start. Light flooded into her eyes; she snapped them shut to avoid over-exposure.

A minute passed. Blurry vision blinked into reality. There was a heavy spotlight over the girl’s head. She was lying in a hospital bed. Monitors blinked and beeped at her side, displaying heartbeat and pulse. Sterile, unforgiving sheets crackled as she shifted her weight and sat up.

“You’re awake,” a pleasant voice stated the obvious. It belonged to a middle-aged man dressed in what could only be seen as an Annapolis business suit. He sat on a fully metal chair, its silver construction in sharp contrast to the otherwise cleanly white room. “Excellent.”

“Wh—“ she tried to speak, but voice proved far too hoarse.

“Please, don’t strain yourself!” his tone was almost too pleasant, now. Like the stereotyped version of a happy and well adjusted father. “There will be plenty of time for questions later. For the time being, I’m only going to offer a single answer.”

Raelin looked at him with distrust.

Ignoring her expression, the man reached into his pocket and withdrew a syringe. From across the room, Lady Alexander could make out a strange metallic liquid that seemed to pulsate within its cylindrical base.

Outcome: Self-detonation
Spiegel: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Victory 2 Blows Up
By: Trent

Astrophel Govannon left Victory 2 outside in the hot Mercurial sun, to burn up and die. This is a second sentence.

Outcome: Self-detonation
Victory 2: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Get Your Omicr On
By: Trent

Lassiter Benoit stood aboard Nerevarine’s bridge, hands clasped behind his back. Stretched out and away from the Archangel-class ship, his conscious mind bid a psychic farewell to Xi. The Gundam knelt inside one of the many craters dotting Mercury’s harsh landscape, completely shut down save for its Psycommu System. So keen had Benoit’s abilities become, he almost felt like he could “touch” the unit from where he stood.

“Do it,” he spoke, betraying no remorse in his tone, but clearly flashing a little distress in the eyes.

Obeying the command, Nerevarine’s gunnery crew readied Lohengrins. Two powerful blasts arched into the distance, and an explosion confirmed the direct hit. Xi was no more; long live Xi.

Outcome: Self-detonation
Xi: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Akatsuki versus Double X
By: Trent

Violent tides thrashed against a group of rigged rocks darting up from the inky waters surrounding Alaska's coastline. The Bering Straight was a dark cacophony in this midnight hour, the moon's silver visage doing little to illuminate the turbulent sea. Fishing boats were the lone vessels challenging its thrashing waves, racing against one another to snatch up "pots" filled with this season's catch of opelio crab.

Standing on a small islet amidst the chaos, Lance Mithaniel's Double X ignored the waters crashing against its white legs. The Gundam's twin cannons already sat upon its shoulders, signature golden-X panels opened on its backpack. Suddenly, the emerald in its chest glowed with power. A streak of light descended from Luna, making contact with the gem and bathing the entire suit in a celestial halo.

Not far off, waiting on his own small, dark rock, Mhus Dalahk sneered at sight of his "opponent's" preparations. Hands nearly crushed throttle and control stick within their furious, shaking grip. Unblinking red eyes glared at Double X, bypassing a picture of Sahren tucked between glass and metal on his forward monitor. He wore no flight suit or helmet. This was not a battle he cared to survive.

'Uncle, I'll show you how impressive your suit really is...' the Coordinator sneered at this thought, simultaneously opening up a communications line with Lance Mithaniel. "Pilot, fire."

On his end, Mithaniel gave a curt nod. "I hope you're sure about this..." his voice trailed. Before even coming to Dutch Harbor, he had known the purpose of this engagement: to test the threshold of Akatsuki's unique Yata-no-Kagami.

"Get it over with."

Akatsuki leapt into the air with a roar of blue thrust, Shiranui space pack straining for lift against Earth's gravity. Simultaneously, the golden Gundam's head opened up with CIWS rounds – a silly gesture meant only to irritate whoever was destined to review the combat data stored in Akatsuki's black box. The bullets pinged against Double X, 12.5mm rounds doing little more than scratching paint.

Lance has no issue tracking the slow-moving suit that lurched at him from behind a shower of ballistics. Reticule centered on Akatsuki's chest, Double X wasted no more time. Both satellite cannons loosed two rivers of beam energy that quickly formed a single deadly force. Their combined might traversed the short distance between suits, reaching its target in no greater than three seconds.

Mhus Dalahk slammed forward on the thrust, speeding defenselessly into the luminous wall. "Enjoy your combat data," he muttered.

Akatsuki and the twin satellite cannon's blast met with a thunderous clap. Yata-no-Kagami held for only five seconds before the energy flowing around its special coating managed to snake between golden panels and into the Gundam's joints. Moments later, structural integrity failed outright. Armor and frame melted together before disintegrating, while wires and tubes sparked and then disappeared.

On his end, Lance's expression tried to steel against his own actions. He couldn't take it. "No more!" he shouted, releasing the pressure on his trigger finger. Double X stopped firing immediately.

A small chunk of smoking, ashen metal plummeted into the Bering Straight. Inside, Mhus Dalahk’s eyes fluttered in pitch darkness. Sweat poured down his burnt, boiled scalp – it held no hair. Civilian clothing had curled to ember, leaving much of his body naked and scarred. No normal human could have survived the ordeal, but his Coordinator biology clung to life – even if the screaming spirit trapped within begged for death.

Outcome: Double X wins, Akatsuki loses
Double X: 1 days damage
Akatsuki: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Deathscythe versus Destroy
By: Jack in Diamond

Despite himself, Ryu Hazuki snickered at the dirty joke Gustav had told over the COMM as the two pilots prepared for their duel. Sociopathic to the letter, Ryu was already at home in the Destroy – a mobile armor so studded with guns that even he couldn't find criticism with it. Still learning the controls, it took Hazuki the better part of five minutes to fully power up the incredibly tall suit. He checked to make sure his katana, the same one that was used to reduce his parents to the past tense, was stashed securely behind his seat – not wanting the blade to come loose during the battle. It was a duel, Ryu thought almost sadly, and the old man in the much smaller Gundam had made him laugh. He decided not to kill him after all.

Gustav grimaced as he finished checking the Deathscythe's status for the third time. He had powered up his mobile suit more than ten minutes before, but twelve years as a member of Orb's Special Forces had taught him that anything that could possibly go wrong, would go wrong.

"...and usually at the worst possible time."

Grimacing again, this time for talking to himself, Gustav continued his recheck until he received the signal from his foe.

"Alright old man, let's see what you have left in ya."

Still well-muscled despite growing age and silvering hair, Hartmann simply glowered as he focused his attention on Destroy. Veritably bristling with guns, the four hundred ton monster cast its shadow over the meager seven ton frame of Deathscythe.

Signature weapon ignited and in hand, Gustav was the first to move, his black Gundam charging towards the monstrosity. He watched the air in front of the massive mobile armor’s guns begin to shimmer from heat; the cannons bristled with gathering power.

Destroy’s first salvo came from the titanic weaponry built into its head and chest, charged particle beams exploding against the ground around Deathscythe as the nimbler mobile suit barely managed to thruster-juke itself out of the line of fire. Heat-melted paint and armor dripped off the edges of the left side of Gundam Unit 02 – yet it continued its charge, vulcan guns mounted in either side of its head firing uselessly against the other hulking gladiator.

Ryu didn’t really care that his first shots missed. He simply readjusted his aim, this time including the Igelstellung CIWS, missile launchers, and the beam guns built into Destroy’s fingers. The sheer quantity of the firepower would make it impossible for the Deathscythe to dodge, and Ryu was pleased as the dark suit continued charging despite the lack of a functional left arm and a fair portion of armor along its left side.

Seconds later, the landscape changed. Their battleground had started the day out as a rich field of golden grass that reached up to a man’s chest if he walked through it. Once Ryu pulled the trigger, the red-afternoon sunlight showed a different scene entirely, one more befitting of World War I trench warfare. Mud and debris sprayed for nearly a quarter mile in every direction leaving what was once golden reduced to smoldering brown.

Inexperience prevented any direct hits to the true target, however, and soon enough Gustav grinned as the Deathscythe finished its charge and lunged for Destroy’s ankles. The Gundanium had kept hits mobile suit almost entirely functional during Hazuki’s onslaught. Now, its plasma-filled blade passed through Destroy’s Trans Phase Armor with ease, and Hartmann set to work trying to cripple his much, much taller opponent.

- - -

Not far away, both pilots were oblivious to the camera-pod that watched impassively as it sent video to a skull-faced mobile suit lying unnoticed in the tall grass two miles away. Scarth, in his cockpit, watched the Grim Reaper hack away at another gigantic machine from between its feet. The larger one was clearly at an advantage. Its ability to hover all but negated most of the damage sustained. Analyzing the situation, clearly the smaller one was a superior target – already damaged and nowhere near as well-armed.

Without a word, Scarth moved his mecha into the standing position, camera pod continuing to relay information as Ebirhu moved to join battle.

- - -

Little did Scarth know, he wasn’t the only hunter tracking Deathscythe. The dark-haired, tan-skinned Spanish Adonis known as “Red-Eyes” Shuurajou approached the duelists and wasted no time with planning. GOUF Ignited careened onto the battlefield, locking onto Gundam 02 even as Gustav continued to hack away at Destroy’s feet. Eight guns mounted on the orange suit’s arms sprayed a swath of beam bullets towards Hartmann’s position, scoring direct hits along the unwary Gundam’s back, causing it to fall forward from impact.

Before he could capitalize, though, three olive blurs cut through the space separating Shuurajou from his kill. They impacted against the already-downed Deathscythe, its Gundanium armor the only thing keeping it from suffering complete and total structural failure.

Pulling back, the Ignited landed, only to be tagged by a small magnet with attached communications wire. “It seems like we have the same target. I’ll share if you aren’t too greedy.” Scarth fed the audio message into Shuurajou’s cockpit speakers.

There wasn’t much honor to be had in tag-teaming the same target with another marauder, but without the cloud of ego to interfere with his thoughts, Shuurajou doubted he could take on both mobile suits at once. “Fine, but I finish him.”

Scarth’s only response was retracting the communication line and turning Ebirhu’s heavy machine guns on Deathscythe. GOUF joined in a moment later, and together they released conventional and beam divots that splattered the unfortunate query as it attempted to stand.

Not a man normally prone to profanities, Gustav cursed and flailed at his mobile weapon’s controls, trying to do something, anything to respond to the assault. Little could he imagine, the world was about to get a whole lot worse. Scarred by a dozen different scythe slashes, Destroy’s leg still managed to rear back and kick Deathscythe. The firm strike sent Gundam 02 flying a good thirty meters away, though it did have the unintentional effect of removing Hartmann from GOUF Ignited and Ebirhu-S’s line of fire. “What kind of duel is this!?”

Sighing, Ryu supposed that the fossil had a point, but still he flicked off his radio without offering a verbal response. Unusual as it was for him not to argue, or continue beating down a fallen opponent, the man had made him laugh – and that was worth something. Seeing GOUF and Ebirhu completely ignore his presence also elicited a “negative response” in the young pilot’s mind. “Screw this.”

Servos and motors came to life inside Destroy, transforming it from a massive mobile suit to something that better resembled a flying saucer with legs – if flying saucers came from Hell. Twenty-beam cannons along the edges of the Destroy’s “disc” glowed before emitting what could best be described as a disco laser show of destruction in every direction. The beams scorched anything and everything they touched. Where before they had ruined a half mile of ground, now Ryu loosed their full power against an area four times that size.

Scarth, the more experienced of the two ambushers, avoided all but two beams from Destroy. The first annihilated Ebirhu’s right arm at the shoulder, while the second melted away half of its Vader-esque helmet. Not ideal, the pilot knew, but it could have been worse. He scurried away, not wishing to risk further impingements.

Shuurajou, on the other hand, pushed his Coordinator reflexes to the limit, but to no avail. Orange legs danced back and forth, and he jumped into the sky, but the air itself became a frightful cage of deadly rays. Any direction he moved, his mobile suit was bitten and beaten by mega particles. By the time the assault ended, its blackened outer shell resembled little the visage of before. “Red-Eyes” crumbled at Destroy’s feet, not far from an equally ruined Deathscythe.

Satisfied, Ryu let the attack subside.

Outcome: Destroy wins, Deathscythe and Ebirhu-S and GOUF Ignited lose
Destroy: 2 days damage
Deathscythe: 3 days damage
Ebirhu-S: 2 days damage
GOUF Ignited: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Epyon versus Perfect Zeong
By: Victory 2

“Antonov, are you sure this is such a good idea?” Sigurd Atremite stared at the controls of the Epyon from inside his cockpit. One hand trembled as it reached forward, nearly caressing the ignition switch. He knew the madness was there. But he had to pilot, for Lisa, Matthew, and Joy. A wistful expression crossed his face as he thought of his children, but almost of their own accord his hands had begun the start-up sequence in preparation for the battle.

“Don’t be a woman, Atremite. You know as well as I do we have to keep in practice or the higher-ups start wondering why they pay us all that money.” In the Perfect Zeong, Vladimir Antonov had been ready for the past few minutes. Though he could be a patient man, that patience was beginning to wear a little thin. He felt like he was about to beat up on the class bookworm, given Sigurd’s appearance. ‘Ah well,’ he thought, ‘might as well get started. I’ve almost compiled enough data… Woah!’ – “Sigurd, what the hell, man? That’s dirty pool!”

Sigurd had wasted little time. As his suit came to life, he placed the cockpit helmet on. Almost instantly, the images had crashed onto his consciousness, battering him with their intensity. It was becoming easier to enter the flow, it seemed to him. In fact, the patterns were almost making sense! Yes, that was easy to follow! Exuberant, he had lifted off from the Martian surface, jetting straight into the sky—

No, he was headed straight for Antonov’s humongous suit. What was going on? Seemingly against his will, his hands flew across the controls, sending the Epyon’s heat rod scything out towards the waiting black behemoth. As the weapon dug a gouge across the shoulder of the Perfect Zeong, clipping off one of the small spokes on the side of the Zeong’s head, Sigurd’s mind wailed for one last moment of clarity. He had been so close! But his internal protests were subdued, and he submitted fully to the madness once more.

Vladimir winced at the marring of his suit’s head unit. “That’s how it’s going to be?” Vladimir stood his ground, aware that he couldn’t match Epyon in speed or maneuverability, and would be at an even greater disadvantage in the air. However, the venerable quasi-armor still had a few tricks up its sleeve.

Spreading its fingers, the Zeong shot wave after wave of beam energy out at the Epyon, managing to strike glancing blows through Vladimir’s combination of natural strategic ability and his Newtype senses. Sigurd sent the Eypon whirling, almost too quick for even Antonov to follow, dodging in between blasts as it attempted to close to melee range. Information paraded across the mirror-like surfaces of Sigurd’s eyes, and he responded by flipping over one blast that would have incinerated the cockpit of almost any other opponent.

Zeong’s mouth let off a tremendous blast from the gun contained within, passing close by the Epyon, and burning off a portion of the leg armor on its left side. This was an acceptable loss, though, as the lull in the other attacks allowed it to close to melee range with the Perfect Zeong. Dodging a couple of desperate shots by Vladimir, the Epyon whirled ‘round the giant suit’s legs at knee-level, its heat rod glowing red from the intensity of its temperature. The Perfect Zeong stood stock-still for a moment. Then it almost appeared to be sliding apart at the knees, before the entirety of the suit below the thigh was engulfed in a massive blast.

The explosion threw the Perfect Zeong backwards, sending it crashing to the ground. A single drop of blood rolled slowly down the side of Vladimir’s face. His tongue snaked out, tasting it, and what might have been the ghost of a pleasurable smile seemed to tug at the corners of his mouth. Letting out a small sigh, Vladimir stared at his monitors as the dusky red suit stomped forward. Its green eyes glowed menacingly as the Epyon pulled out its and ignited its massive beam sword. Despite the blankness, Sigurd’s eyes nearly glowed themselves, the madness easily apparent within. A terrible sound escaped from his lips – it might have been a laugh, or just as easily a chocked sob.

But Antonov still had one last resort to fall back on. Pressing a large button labeled simply ‘DO NOT TOUCH’, the Perfect Zeong’s head detached from its couplings, and Vladimir allowed it to simply jet backwards a small amount before coming to a rest in a small crevice. The Epyon’s ZERO system informed its pilot that its quarry had moved slightly further out of reach. It took one step forward. Then another. Its motion took it right next to the mangled body of the Perfect Zeong. Vlad grinned.

“Gotcha!”

In his cockpit, Sigurd’s fevered brain suddenly processed a major realization of the suit’s advanced prediction system, one significant enough to snap him out of the control of the ZERO. “Oh, crap.” Attempting to jet backwards, he managed only a slight blast of his thrusters, though that split second most likely saved his life. Antonov’s fingers had been flying across his cockpit’s console, relaying the final command the Perfect Zeong would ever receive, and as he submitted the message he ignited the thrusters on his suit’s head, blasting out of the ravine and into the distance.

COMMAND: SELF-DESTRUCT.
USER: VANTONOVMC
PASS: ******

COMMAND ACCEPTED

The explosion was impressive, to say the least. The massive fireball smashed into the Epyon as it attempted to avoid the blast, toppling the suit into a crumpled heap. Inside the cockpit, Sigurd was knocked unconscious by the concussive force of the shock wave. However, released from the grip of the intense pressure from the ZERO system, he almost seemed at peace. His chest moved up and down rhythmically, and in his sleep he dreamt of a beautiful young boy and girl, smiling as he gathered them up into his arms.

Vlad was so pleased with himself he actually contemplated whistling. Popping out his magneto-opical disk from its drive in the cockpit computer, he pocketed it carefully. He wasn’t entirely positive, but he believed he finally had enough materials and data to begin his new ‘project.’ The anticipation was enough to make him giddy, and he let out a slight cackle as the Zeong’s head flew grandly off into the Martian horizon.

Outcome: Draw
Perfect Zeong: Upgrading
Epyon: 4(3) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Ashtaron versus Sazabi
By: Perfect Zeong

Wade Warren stared out at the picturesque vista that sprawled around him in all directions. The formerly inhospitable red planet now looked more like Earth than anything else, with a blue sky, blue oceans and rich flora. The soil sometimes had a reddish hue, but otherwise little evidence of the planet’s past remained. The great craters were now lakes, and the tallest mountain in the solar system was capped with snow.

My old stomping grounds… Warren thought. Simpler times. He looked down at the black mobile suit under him. It was not its original color, but it suited him much better than the “garish” scheme sported previously. Simpler indeed.

A scratchy voice issued from Warren’s cockpit. Quirking an eyebrow, he casually strolled across the Sazabi’s shoulder and leaned into the hatch of the spherical cockpit/escape pod. As he suspected, his radio was indicating that it was receiving a transmission. Warren grabbed his headset and put it to his ear.

“Hello, hello? Didn’t copy your last transmission, please repeat,” he said.

“Ah, thought you were asleep at the wheel,” the voice replied. “Cockpit. Controls, or something. Whatever. Anyway, you’re Wade Warren, yeah?”

“Correct,” he responded flatly. “And you are?”

“Dietrich Butcher, the elder,” the voice stated. “We were at McKinley before the attack. Maybe you saw me.”

“The black transformable Gundam, if I’m not mistaken,” Warren noted.

“Right again,” Dietrich confirmed. “Anyway, it looks like my little brother hasn’t arrived yet, and I’m bored out of my mind. What do you say to a bit of spar?” Warren thought about the proposition for a while, considering the sights he’d just seen the previous week on Earth. On the other hand, as he’d learned first-hand through his years of martial arts, skills fade quickly when one doesn’t maintain them regularly.

“Sazabi and I could go for some of that,” Warren decided. “Where are you?”

“Six o’clock high,” Dietrich replied, grinning. “Watch yourself!” Warren distinctly heard the sound of a button being pressed before the transmission cut off.

Six o’clock? What? Warren thought. He briefly felt a faint tingle of Newtype prescience in the back of his head, like something was trying to get his attention. Warren turned around and saw a black dot rapidly closing on his current position from the direction of the Tharsis Base. Oh, so that’s how it is. Warren thought, quickly hopping into the Sazabi’s cockpit and closing the hatch. The panoramic cockpit lit up just in time to display a quartet of beams sail over his head and slowly dissipate in the atmosphere some distance away. Warren grabbed the tensiometric, trackball-like control units and whipped the Sazabi around to face his opponent. Dietrich’s Ashtaron was now plainly visible, as were a second fusillade of beams from its nose-mounted cannons. Warren had to duck under them to avoid being hit – Dietrich had worked out whatever was throwing his aim off from earlier.

“Why don’t you come down here and fight face-to-face?” Warren offered, lining up his beam rifle and taking a shot. The particle projectile struck the Ashtaron’s nose and sheared off the edge of its backpack, but didn’t appear to cause any real damage.

“I think I’ll do just that,” Dietrich smirked. The Ashtaron’s legs snapped out from behind it, the nose became its backpack, and a head and arms sprouted from its torso. Dietrich brought his beam crossbow to bear.

“Do that in mid-air and you’ll just make yourself a target,” Warren noted, stabilizing the Sazabi before firing the mega particle gun embedded in its stomach. Dietrich was able to avoid the wide-angle blast, but the intense heat on the edge of the beam slagged his weapon. Damn! I never get to use that thing…Dietrich lamented.

“Not as much of a target as you thought, am I?” Dietrich exclaimed, detaching both of his atomic scissors. Warren grabbed his beam tomahawk from his mounting bracket inside the Sazabi’s shield, but wasn’t able to activate its blade before the Ashtaron quite literally slammed into him. The force of the falling mobile suit toppled the Sazabi over backwards, and both went skidding down the slope, throwing up a storm of dirt and rocks behind them. The Ashtaron’s arms clamped down onto those of the Sazabi, immobilizing its handheld weapons.

“You…!” Warren gritted his teeth as he saw bits and pieces of the Sazabi’s backpack go flying past his monitor. Dietrich laughed and slammed one of his atomic scissor claws into the Sazabi’s torso, then retracted it and followed up with the other. Warren began powering up his mega particle gun for a point-blank shot, but Dietrich was quicker, disabling the gun with another scissor blow.

“I’ll teach you to underestimate me!” Dietrich exclaimed, repeatedly pummeling the Sazabi with his atomic scissors, leaving a battery of dents and punctures in its upper body. Warren was getting pulverized to pieces, and it was not settling well with him. Suddenly, he spotted a rather large rock sticking out of the slope behind him. Furthermore, his funnel racks were somehow – miraculously – intact.

“Let’s see just who underestimated who,” Warren said.

“What?” Dietrich demanded. As if on cue, Sazabi’s back slammed into the rock, nearly knocking Ashtaron off balance. Warren unceremoniously punted the Ashtaron in the back and sent it flying over his head, tumbling to a stop a few hundred feet further down the hill. “Oh, that was dirty,” Dietrich remarked, feeling an ache in the side of his head where he had conked against a monitor during the tumble. “But, it’s not-” he abruptly stopped as he saw a half-dozen funnels hovering in the air halfway between him and Sazabi, which was now rising to its feet.

“…it’s not, what?” Warren smirked. Mimicking its pilot, Ashtaron fell to its knees and began pounding its fist against the ground.

Outcome: Sazabi wins
Sazabi: 2 (1) days damage
Ashtaron: 2 (1) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Hi-Nu versus Astray Out Frame
By: Maxter

“Beautiful! Beautiful, just stay there and-“

“After this one, can we /please/ begin?”

The Hi-Nu Gundam was in a middle of an action pose, saber a-blazin’, and hand thrust forward towards a target only it could see. Inside, Alexander rolled his eyes. He had arranged this duel to gain experience, and yet an hour into it, his opponent seemed more interested in taking photographs than the battle proper. Every angle of the Hi-Nu was taken, along with more than a few photos of Alexander himself.

“Yeah, sure. Just this one and…” Click. Carl grinned lightly, before grabbing the wench beside him, hosting himself into the waiting cockpit of the Astray Out Frame. Even if Annapolis had given him the opportunity to pilot such a magnificent piece of equipment, Carl figured himself remiss if he couldn’t at least get a few rolls of film in for the annals of history.

After a few minutes to figure out the controls of the sophisticated unit, Carl looked up before drawing his beam rifle. “Standard rules of the duel, correct? Annapolis will kill me if I destroy this suit so soon.”

“Aye, first three hits win.” Alexander replied. He too had trouble with the controls, but already, his Newtype abilities were adjusting to the psycommu unit of the powerful Hi-Nu. He knew this suit would serve him well. The Gundam drew its own beam rifle, and for a moment, the entire field became quiet as the two silently waited for the automated count down.

Despite their inexperience, Newtype and Coordinator senses allowed both fighters to act almost simultaneously the moment the chime went off, each lifting into the air and firing their weapons. The shots veered widely, scorching and turning nearby sand into rough hewn glass. Carl grunted slightly during his landing on the ground, controls reverberating, as he brought the Astray to its knees, emptying its first clip in rapid succession.

It was by pure luck that one of the shots clanged off of Nu’s arm, causing only light cosmetic damage, the shield coming up to block only milliseconds too late. “Damnit,” Alex muttered, even as Carl’s smiling face came up on his communicator.

“One.”

“Sod off!” Anything else Alexander said was lost, as he fired off his bazooka. The barrage impacted right in front of the Astray, and Carl found himself on the ground, stars flashing through his eyes.

“That…ugh, doesn’t count as one.”

“Fine, but this will—“ Hi-Nu drew back its beam saber and charged, swatting at its downed foe. Astray desperately lifted its rifle in defense at the last possible instant, metal and polymers melting alike. Still, it slowed the super-heated plasma just enough for Carl to roll aside, shoulder armor sloughing off in the process.

“That wasn’t bad,” Carl murmured in a pant, backing up a few paces, before igniting his own saber. It was the first time he had used the weapon in a combat scenario – he trained using the utility tool as a rudimentary semaphore rather than a weapon. But he had been prepared like most other pilots of Annapolis, enough to feel confident with his peer.

Alexander, on the other hand, had little doubt at all, mind focused on a singular target, sweat dripping off of his brow. Training hadn’t been nearly this difficult, but he trusted in his own psychic prowess. All he had to do was have faith in those powers, and they would assure him the final two points.

What neither had expected was a sudden barrage of machine gun fire that littered the space between the two, zeroing the visibility to near null. In the shadows, a figure suddenly appeared, twisting in the air with unnatural grace. With the dust and the movements, even the super-human pilots could barely register the movement, before a loud ‘CLANG’ erupted between them.

As the dust cleared, the Jester stood in a battle pose, Hi-Nu reeling, its head very heavily damaged. “You can leave now, Mitchum. I’ll handle this rogue,” Ariel Samon murmured inside the Mobile Trace system.

“I thought this was supposed to be a fair fight,” Alexander muttered, blasting his verniers, and making a large jump backwards, head vulcans activating in rapid succession. The small caliber rounds never got near to the extensively more experienced Gundam Fighter, who ran forward, letting loose a flurry of precise punches, each one causing a sizeable dent in the Gundarium alloy of the Hi-Nu.

Carl, for his end, was equal parts stunned and amazed at the performance of Jester, Astray holding still for the entirety of the first attack. He shook off the nerves moments later, instinct taking over as he drew his camera gun, taking in the amazing martial arts display as the Jester continued on. At least, until the attacker’s superiority became blaringly obvious.

“This isn’t right!” Carl declared, beam saber hefted again, as he blasted forward, camera still recording all the action. Unaware of her own sect-mate’s change of allegiance, Ariel prepared the finishing blow to the Hi-Nu, only to scream out in pain as her shoulder turned bright red.

Outside, the Jester’s coils bled liquid metal from the wound Out Frame’s saber caused. In response, Ariel lashed out with her uninjured hand, the sheer force of the Jester enough to cause the Astray to launch back several meters, its pilot knocked out instantly – somehow retaining a grip on the expensive piece of surveillance equipment.

Ariel separated her mind from any lingering pain, before turning back to her target.

However, the Hi-Nu wasn’t completely out of tricks. Jester turned around as a Funnel Field flashed before its pilot’s eyes, the energy working as an impromptu blinder. A moment later, Alexander blasted off in retreat, scarred but thankfully alive.

Outcome: Jester wins, Hi-Nu and Astray Out Frame Lose
Jester: 1 days Damage
Astray Out Frame: 2 days damage
Hi-Nu: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Quin Mantha versus Wing Zero
By: Victory 2

Octavius Langston nodded to himself. The Quin Mantha, shining in the afternoon sun, had finally begun responding to him the way he had hoped it would. Or perhaps, he was finally responding to it, instead. Either way, he felt a strange kinship with this monstrosity of metal and gears. Patting the side of his cockpit chair, he decided it was time to begin. Running an abbreviated final diagnostic check, he flicked on his comm., calling to his sparring partner. “Mthunzi? You there?”

Mthunzi Ying was indeed there, her head resting comfortably upon her arms. She almost felt tired – her habit of sleeping in her cockpit chair was creating an odd response of sleepiness every time she climbed into Wing ZERO. Octavius’s question had sounded oddly familiar, but she shrugged it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” The young Chinese woman stretched once to clear the cobwebs from her mind, then gazed at her controls. “What was it you wanted to do, again?”

“I need to work on my fine control – I’ve gotten plenty of practice with the ranged weaponry, but I seem to struggle when it’s a melee fight.” Octavius flexed his fingers a couple of times, and cracked his knuckles. “You’re a lot smaller than I am, and really fast, so this should be good practice. And I’ll owe you a favor. Sabers only, okay?” He ignited both of his own and stood, waiting for a response.

“Okay.” Mthunzi’s reply was brief, as she reached forwards to take hold of her suit’s controls. But as she brought the computers fully online, her eyes glazed over as, instead, the ZERO system took hold of her. Within the Quin Mantha, Octavius shuddered. His newtype senses didn’t give him total understanding of what was going on in the ZERO’s cockpit, but he could tell it wasn’t going to be good. The frail woman reveled as she fell deeper into the grasp of the suit’s control. Within she was safe. Here, she could forget. The letters and numbers raced across the screen, across her face, washing away all the…

“Mthunzi.” No answer.

“Mthunzi?” The Wing ZERO’s eyes flashed green for a brief moment, but the suit stayed motionless.

“You’re really creeping me out here. What’s going on? Mthunzi, are you there?” Within the girl’s mind, the sounds penetrated. She could forget… No, she could not forget. She remembered Lau, returning home, drunken and demanding. He would call for her, then. “Mthunzi, are you there?” She remembered the tears, falling and staining her torn clothing, as her innocence was lost forever. She couldn’t even drive a car. The voice made her remember. But she knew she could forget, as long as she could silence the noise. The ZERO system would tell her how. She would listen.

“MTHUNZI! WAKE UP!” Once more the ZERO’s eyes flashed green in response to Octavius’s holler, but this time they remained lit. Slowly, the winged suit lifted its twin buster rifle, aiming directly at the Quin Mantha. The motion so shocked Octavius that he was unprepared when the gun’s muzzle shone with light for a moment, before firing. Frantically, he engaged his thrusters, skidding to one side and praying that his shoulder deflection systems were powerful enough to handle the blow. They were, and the attack sailed off into space, knocking around the Quin – and its pilot – quite a bit.

“Seriously, Ying, that’s enough.” Mthunzi didn’t budge. A second massive blast emerged, but Octavius was prepared for the attack, and dodged it easily, unsure if his beam deflection system could handle that much force in a direct impact. “Mthunzi, cut it out, you’re going to get one of us killed!” If the girl didn’t get some sense in her head soon, he decided, he might have to knock it into her. He prepared to loose his remote weaponry, watching the Wing ZERO carefully.

Why did she need to destroy this monstrous opponent? She wasn’t sure. In the back of her mind, something about quiet registered, but made no sense. The tidal wave of the ZERO system’s information continued to break upon her thoughts, drowning out anything else. And, though at the time she did not know why, she rejoiced at that fact. She was forgetting. She knew that there was something to forget, but even that knowledge was dashed to pieces as she fired the twin buster rifle a second time. Once more, the Quin Mantha dodged, but the Wing ZERO was rising to meet it. Astonishingly agile for a suit of that size, the Quin reversed directions and skidded back towards the ground. Its veritable army of remote weapons rose into the air, and Octavius unleashed hell. Beam energy lanced out in such quantity that the air itself almost seemed to glow.

Mthunzi laughed. She laughed, and laughed, her cries of mirth rising higher to the heavens, while the Wing ZERO danced between blasts, always angling towards the Quin. Octavius’s chest also heaved, but it was from exhaustion, as his breath came in staggered gasps. Nevertheless, he continued to battle against the vicious onslaught of his ‘sparring partner,’ and it appeared he might be gaining the upper hand. Even a suit as fast and powerful as the Wing ZERO seemed armed with a knife when the Quin Mantha arrived to a gunfight.

Though it seemed effectively impossible for him to strike a direct hit, the volume of Octavius’s beam fire filled the air about him with Minovsky particles. The Wing ZERO was soon covered with cosmetic blemishes, while smoke poured off it in waves. Its extremities on the left side seemed to have almost no range of motion, from one head mega particle cannon shot that had barely missed. Yet the Wing ZERO had nearly closed to melee range, and the duration of the fight continued to wear on Octavius.

Mthunzi seemed tireless in her madness. With the precision afforded the pilot who used a system like the ZERO, all it took was a tiny mistake. Such as the Quin Mantha’s stepping backwards while trying to avoid a burst of machinecannon fire, and planting a foot in a mound of dried mud that could not support 250 tons. Stumbling, Octavius valiantly attempted to keep his focus on the movements of the ZERO. But that suit’s battle computer had seen its opening, and Mthunzi immediately took advantage of the information.

The ZERO’s wing thrusters flared and the suit dashed between beam attacks. A quick movement of the hand was all it took, as the Wing ZERO blasted by the funnels. One precise stab with a beam saber pierced the Quin Mantha’s reactor, and Octavius didn’t even have time to cry out as he was totally incinerated by the explosion that engulfed his entire mobile suit. The fireball climbed into the sky, illuminating what had become the twilight hours.

The Wing ZERO was thrown over one hundred meters, finally coming to rest against a rocky outcropping. Mthunzi’s eyes still processed nothing, though the machine informed her that all threats had been ‘silenced,’ while the Quin’s funnels fell to the ground, clattering heavily as they hit the Earth. As she began to regain some measure of control, the impact of what she had done hit her, and she brought a hand involuntarily to cover her face. “Guess you won’t be paying back that favor,” she whispered. The mental strain of controlling her suit suddenly caught up to her, and she whimpered at the violent responses from both her body and her mind. Curling up into a fetal position, she hugged her arms around her body tightly, before finally giving in to the pain and passing out.

The Wing ZERO, its pilot having lost consciousness, engaged a ‘kill-switch’ of sorts, shutting down. The suit remained there, motionless, for hours, as the brightness of daylight gave way to a violet dusk.

Outcome: Wing ZERO wins, Quin Mantha loses
Wing ZERO: 3 days damage
Quin Mantha: Pilot dead, upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Victor Victoria
By: Victory 2

Posted on every available surface in Stargazer’s spacious, two-seater cockpit, green monitors displayed a web-work of indicators for every circuit in the complex Gundam’s computer systems. On the screens, like a genealogical chart, lines connected rectangular boxes of yellow and red coloration – they represented the synapses of an artificial mind. As the mobile suit started up, cockpit filling with a steady hum, the boxes switched to light blue.

Surrounded by these colorful threads, CT Weaver’s countenance held an enchanted smile, while his head rolled back and forth atop it perch. Goggled eyes watched strings coil off the green panels, snaking and twisting across the air before coalescing around Stargazer’s gunnery seat.

“Cut quickly,” the familiar mesh of threads representing the weaver’s avatar pulsated through the spectrum with each new syllable. Those were its only words.

Glancing to either side, he saw verdant foliage teeming with life. Left and right, leaves blocked both monitors. Above, sprinkles of diamond gave background to a quarter moon. Stargazer hid in the rich wilderness near Lake Victoria, Africa. It sat, waiting like a spider – listening for vibrations in the world-weave.

- - -

“Diamond Burn!” a whirling inferno amassed near Jack in Diamond’s heart, pouring away from the mobile fighter in the form of a horizontal tornado. Flames exploded against the trunk of a gigantic tree, climbing up into the canopy and setting it ablaze. Not far off, Hildolfr shook against its piledriver supports; the cannon thundered off an incendiary shell that splintered a tree, before exploding into a thirty-meter tall expanding mass of fire.

“MEGA COMBUSTION!” Messaoud shouted, following shortly after with giggling.

Both mobile weapons stood amidst a healthy forest fire of their own design, bathing in the flickering orange and red heat. Cute woodland creatures scurried away from the area, some screeching and screaming as they dashed beneath Jack in Diamond’s feet. Birds took flight overhead, and momentarily blotted out the sliver of a moon hanging over Lake Victoria in the early twilight.

“Funny,” Charlie Cordova turned to face his companion. “But where are the defenses?”

“Dunno…” Messaoud remarked. He listened for the tell-tale clank of Hildolfr’s auto-loader, and grinned mischievously. “So, think we’ll see Bambi’s dad?”

- - -

One finger quivered above the ‘Play’ command. Serj Odadjian closed his eyes, ready to savor the music that would fill the Sword Impulse with a power all its own, preparing him for the upcoming battle. He knew it would be dangerous, but he was ready to do all he could to change the world. It was, after all, his responsibility. His lips moved, sending an unspoken promise to a young girl he had barely known. A young girl who had opened his eyes, shown him the path upon which he now trod. His finger pressed down.

I BELIEVE IN MIRACLES, SINCE YOU CAME ALONG, YOU SEXY THING (YOU SEXY THING YOU)!

“Oh you are SO dead, Messaoud!”

Nearby, Dash Holloway searched amidst his jacket pockets. The fading light glinted off Holloway’s trademark sunglasses, and he removed them as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. Finding the object of his desire, he brought out a large silver cylinder, unscrewing the cap. Removing the sizable Cuban cigar that lay within, he savoured the smell for a moment, before biting down hard and ripping off the back end. The bitter taste filled his mouth, and he contemplated lighting up right then and there. But no, it could wait until after today’s work was completed. A job of this size deserved a small celebration upon its completion. And he hadn’t had a good cigar in some time, only a cig here and there.

The Sword Impulse and Gundam X stood on an isthmus far away from the safe camouflage of trees, their presences exposed in every direction. Ahead, blending into nighttime darkness on the opposite shore, the Orb base was completely quiet. Not even spotlights served to illuminate the compound. Serj, having disposed of the musical abomination and replacing it with his own mix, knew a trap was brewing. “Let’s get this party started,” he announced, punching up the volume as distorted chords spewed from his speakers.

Now this is what it’s like when worlds collide… Now this is what it’s like…

- - -

Vibrations on the web. Four dents in the world-weave, separated into two distinct pressures. One heaviness ravaged nature’s design, upturning centuries-old roots. All around it, the spider-silk snapped. The other pressure stood stark still, but raised its crying voice to the heavens. It begged – pleaded – for power. Discordant notes flitted about in the space around it.

CT Weaver’s cohorts were on time for the ball. Stargazer rose from its hiding place, emerald eyes flashing their eagerness to witness chaos.

- - -

Dash scanned the nearby lakeside for movement. Calm waters lapped against a pebbled shoreline, a gentle zephyr blowing in from off Lake Victoria. The tranquility betrayed a very real danger. He concentrated, calling to the sky above. As he felt the connection, he readied himself to unleash the power of his satellite cannon. He worried momentarily about the devastation it would create, but philosophic discussion was better saved for the confines of his bunk.

“Hold on!” Impulse spun to face a rustling in the forest, one Excalibur raising to guard its chest, the other rearing back for attack – both dawning pink blades. No sooner had his attention been diverted than two red claws reached up from the waters nearby, grabbing the Gundam’s legs and dragging it – thrashing and kicking – off land and into the lake.

‘Serj!’ Dash wanted to cry out, but prescience warned him of another threat. Stargazer pushed through the green curtain, beam rifle belting off a fusillade of yellow shots. Five steaming holes melted into X’s left leg, toppling it sideways even as the Gundam twisted to face its attacker. On cue, the Orb base came to life. Missiles whistled into the air, cutting ditches in the water beneath their wakes. Dash was thrown hard against his restraints, as the mobile suit outside rolled against successive detonations. None were entirely accurate, but the sheer number of warheads soon overwhelmed his position. He smashed against his cockpit chair, and the cigar fell from his mouth.

Cannons from the Lake Victoria facility were next to join the battle. One titanic ray sizzled outwards, driving into the forest on an intercept course for the nearby fire. The other arched high. Stargazer ascended to meet its path. Voiture Lumiere wrapped the offering into a green globe around the Gundam’s body, forming its signature rings of death. ‘This is not good,’ thought Dash. “Charlie, Messaoud! W…” His cry was cut off, as he was forced to dodge another blast by the base’s cannons.

- - -

“Charlie, Messaoud! W…” the shouts echoed in Cordova’s ears, nearly distracting him from a wall of pure white light that crashed through the forest. Only at the last possible moment did Jack in Diamond tumble away from the beam’s track.

Messaoud had been quicker to dodge, the Hildolfr rolling over several trees to avoid certain catastrophe. “Looks like we got their attention!” he said with almost glee. Peering down the tunnel the cannon’s shot had drilled into the foliage, he could see five Leos trudging towards their position with machineguns at the ready. “These guys again? I thought they’d stop making them after what we did on Mercury.”

Charlie wasn’t in a joking mood. “Yeah. They wouldn’t send those after us for anything but distraction. They knew our plan…”

“Who?” Only half paying attention, Messoud a the now-firing Leo under his reticule. Hildolfr blasted off another incendiary round with a proximity charge. Within a meter of the lead target it erupted into a cloud of pure napalm, melting the ill-fortuned newblood inside his cockpit.

Charlie didn’t answer. His gaze turned upward, to see Stargazer absorbing a shot from Lake Victoria’s cannon. ‘CT?’ he almost didn’t believe… Then his attention was again diverted, and he ducked under a clumsy swing of a beam saber, delivering a quick combination of punches that destroyed another of the Leos.

- - -

Billions of bubbles obscured Impulse’s view of the outside world, but Serj realized he was being pulled deeper into the lake. Remembering that his Excaliburs were still ignited, he quickly shut them off – this, at least, served to clear the water surrounding his cameras. Even so, the dark depths prevented sight for greater than a handful of meters. He could only barely make out the Cancer that was pulling him further and further down. He pulled out a folding knife, driving it straight into the claw arm. Its grip loosened, he swung forward, cutting across the aquatic suit, driving a deep gouge into it and leaving it to spiral into the deep.

Two other Cancers arose to meet him, and he pulled out the other knife and got to work. Though his suit was at a disadvantage in the waters, neither of his opponents seemed to know what they were doing, and he was able to make quick work of both of them. Kicking the ruined body of one towards the lake floor, he jetted upwards, not wanting to leave the X on its own.

Are you ready to go, cause I’m ready to go, what you gonna do, baby?

- - -

Dodging one burst of missiles, Dash tried to keep his cannon aimed at the base. If he could only get a moment to fire, the attack still might be successful. But the base defenders seemed to know all about his capabilities, and they sent an unending barrage of cannon fire and missiles in his direction. It was all he could do to avoid being caught in the blasts. Suddenly, the attacks ceased. This was his opening. He aimed carefully and again called to D.O.M.E. His energy collectors spread out, and a crystal light flashed from the moon above. As the beam of energy impacted his chest, though, he heard the clanging of his collision detection system. The crafty pilot of the Rick Dias had hidden himself and called for a short ceasefire. As the X parked itself to attack, he had emerged from the greenery and attacked full-bore.

Before he had a chance to react, a clay bazooka shot and several beam pistol blasts impacted against the back of his suit, throwing him to the ground. The cannon smashed against the shores of the lake, and was dashed to pieces. The energy dissipated, but a portion of it fed the explosion by his shoulder as the cannon ripped apart. The upper front half of Dash’s suit was crumpled against the earth, and he could tell even without the aid of his now-malfunctioning computer systems that things were bad. Things were really, really bad.

Broaching the surface of the waters, Serj saw the Rick Dias retreat back into the safe coverage of the trees. He looked around him, trying to spot the X, and noticed it was heavily damaged. The satellite cannon hung at an odd angle, and looked like it might fall of if the X tried to move. “You can’t do any more good here, Dash. Get lost!” He goosed his engines to move out of the way of an attack by the base’s cannons, and spun to dodge the grasping claw of another Cancer suit. “Not this time, buddy.”

Dash stared at his monitors, at least the ones that were still working. The suit’s readings were all critical. Massive system failures registered across all components, and the reactor temperature continued to rise. He slammed his hand against the eject switch, but it simply let out a brief whine. “Cheap piece of crap!” Kicking out at the door to his cockpit produced the same lack of effect. Sirens began to blare over his speakers, even as Serj yelled at him over the comm. to get the hell out. Nervously, Dash rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, feeling the place where he had been marked. He refused to be remembered for such a thing. A beam pistol shot from the forest informed him that if he tried to run, he would be cut down by the Rick Dias. “Well… Damn.”

Reaching down, he found the Cuban where it had fallen to the floor. From his right pocket emerged his lighter, and a quick flick produced a bright flame. Several puffs later, the cigar was in a nice slow burn, and Dash let the smoke fill his mouth for a moment. ‘Exquisite. Alright you bastards, let’s go.’ He lifted off, not even caring as the satellite cannon crashed to the ground behind him. Another siren blared, mixing with the first, a cacophony of noise that nearly caused him to cover his ears. Instead, he reached up and ripped the overhead audio assembly off with one hand.

- - -

Serj dodged a missile, and sent the Impulse dashing forwards. He ripped through the last Cancer that had been attacking him with one of his Excalibur swords, causing it to detonate in a brief flash. On his monitors, he suddenly saw the X go soaring past him, headed straight for the Lake Victoria base. But it was far too damaged, and surely couldn’t continue to fight. He could see a gaping hole in its back where the cannon array had rested, now showing the internal mechanics of the suit. The armor was almost totally gone. “Dammit Holloway, you’re going to get yourself killed. Don’t be a fool!” He moved to chase his partner in the attack, but was stopped by the re-appearance of the Rick Dias. Beam pistol fire flashed in front of his cockpit, and Serj half-turned to find the suit dashing towards him.

“I don’t have time for this.” Nevertheless, Odadjian moved to intercept, knowing that he would be shot down from behind if he turned to try and help Dash. The Impulse spat vulcan fire at the Rick Dias, but the shots were ineffective. The grey suit answered in kind, but the phase shift armor protected the Impulse from any damage. Igniting a beam saber, the Dias moved forward to attack, while inside the Impulse the song switched to a new track.

Don’t know what I want, but I know how to get it. I wanna destroy the passer-by…

- - -

“These guys just don’t give up, do they?” Messaoud sent a barrage of rounds from his machinegun at a Leo. The suit dodged, and returned fire with its own gun. The rounds impacted harmlessly against the thick armor of the quasi-tank. Its attention distracted, the Leo’s pilot never even saw the Jack in Diamond coming, and Charlie decapitated it with a quick kick to the head. The pilot continued to fire the weapon aimlessly, and Messaoud silenced him with another burst, this time riddling the Leo with holes. One precise shot entered the cockpit, killing the pilot instantly, and the suit ceased its attack.

“That’s the last of them. We need to get out of here. Try and contact the others.” Charlie looked around carefully, his body already beginning to ache from the constant action. Nevertheless, he was able to spot the rustle in the trees, and dance out of the way of beam pistol fire. The Hildolfr lowered its mobile suit half into the tank again, as Messaoud examined his sensors to try and pinpoint the location of the new threat.

Before he could, though, the Stargazer emerged from the forest, its green rings spinning about it malevolently. CT’s hands flexed, as his suit’s AI informed him of the major tactical considerations. Nodding, the experienced pilot sent one whip of energy lashing out at the Jack in Diamond, keeping it at bay, while he moved to take out the Hildolfr. Messaoud frantically switched between shells, and the clicking of the loader informed him that the APFSDS round was ready. Loosing it, he watched in dismay as CT easily avoided the fire, his AI having informed him of the danger. Once more a whip of energy lashed out, slashing across the Hildolfr’s treads and totally immobilizing it.

- - -

The Impulse and the Rick Dias traded vulcan fire and saber/sword swings, neither pilot gaining the upper hand. But inside the Rick Dias, the speakers crackled. “Sir, we’re getting slaughtered out here!” Its pilot gritted his teeth, knowing the inexperienced pilots in the other suits didn’t stand a chance against the other two invaders. Carefully, he lowered his weapon, stalking backwards slowly towards the trees. Breathing heavily, Serj watched him go. As the suit vanished into the branches, the young pilot waited for mere moments before turning, and jetting off to try and help the X.

The X tumbled through the sky, end-over-end, before crashing against one cannon mount. The WaDom head looked particularly preposterous with the mobile suit poking out from it, but the collision had given Dash exactly what he hoped for, as the reactor went critical about a minute before it normally would have. It also gave Dash something he hadn’t expected. The protruding turret had ripped a hole through the lower portion of the X, and Dash could feel a gust of wind from somewhere below him. Looking down, he saw a tangled mass of cables and wires, but knew instinctively through his Newtype senses that there lay amongst them a way out. He clambered out of his restraints and dove into the pile, pulling and tugging, trying to make a way out. The cigar lay smoking behind him, totally forgotten.

- - -

“This is not our day,” moaned Charlie, as the Rick Dias came bursting out of the tree line, too. Its veteran pilot could tell from the ruined husks about him that his men had been killed. It was time for some payback. His beam saber ignited once more, and he advanced straight at the Jack in Diamond. Charlie spun around one thrust, and swung out his hand to punch straight through the Rick Dias’s chest. But the Jack in Diamond was too slow, its motors unable to keep up with Cordova’s advanced abilities. He cursed in frustration as his punch met only air, the Rick Dias hopping backwards and out of his reach. He fired his vulcans, but they were ineffective against the advanced gamma gundarium armor his opponent possessed. Understanding came suddenly to Charlie, as he realized what he had to do.

He jumped up at the Stargazer, which was even now easily dodging more rounds from the Hildolfr. He brought up his arms, and unleashed a firey blast. As “Diamond Burn!” left his lips, a wall of flame extended towards the Stargazer. CT was forced to break off his attack, and his skills allowed him to avoid taking serious damage. Even so, he lost part of a leg from his suit, and moved away momentarily to regroup and re-assess. This was the opening Charlie had been looking for. He instinctively knew what was coming, and spun about to see the Rick Dias rising towards him, beam saber extended. Stretching out one hand, he allowed the saber to slice through his suit’s palm, screaming in agony at the pain that raced along his extremity. Still, he was now in the right position.

“Messaoud. Take us out!” The Jack in Diamond grabbed the Rick Dias in a bear hug, even as its pilot began to beat on the side of the Mobile Fighter with his off arm. The impacts sent spikes of agony along Charlie’s spine, but he maintained the composure to drop the intertwined suits to the ground, and leap from his mobile trace unit. As Cordova landed, Messaoud shifted to a high explosive round.

“Dodge this.” Firing, the Hildolfr sent the attack booming at nearly point-blank range at the two suits. The Jack in Diamond and the Rick Dias were engulfed in the explosion, and when the smoke cleared both suits lay in a tangled mess. Bits of metal from both were mingled together, and Charlie thought he could see a bit of a charred arm bone reaching upwards from the wreckage. Still, that was one down, and…

There was no warning. Messaoud never even felt the attack coming, as the Stargazer screamed downwards at immense speed, its rings flashing brightly against the backdrop of night. CT didn’t bother to finesse his attack. He simply moved up against the tank and allowed the intense energy to bore through the Hildolfr and reduce it to scrap in moments.

“NO!” The words tore themselves from Charlie’s mouth, as the Hildolfr’s entire body was shredded, and explosions began to tear up and down the length of the venerable machine. Without a sound, the Stargazer again lifted off, heading towards the remaining two dancers. These participants had been cut, removed from the ball. He would do no more here. Charlie ran after the departing suit, unsure of what to do, furious at the world.

- - -

Dash could see the moonlight glinting off the grass, now. He would make it. He might get captured, but he’d been in worse scrapes before and found a way out. In the X’s cockpit, the cigar’s flame was a dull red. A large block of ash and a burn streak lay as testament to its flame. With one final flare, the flame went out, and the end slipped off and fell to the floor amidst the wreckage.

CT Weaver could see one thread clearly, burning brightly. Having arrived back at Lake Victoria, he turned the Stargazer, and saw the X resting against the side of the base. This thread called to him. He moved his hands, and his suit aimed, its beam pistol pointed directly at the X. The thread was nearly white, now, pulsating with an intense light. His finger depressed the firing trigger, and a blast streaked out at the broken suit.

The pistol shot bore into the exposed back of the X, smashing into the suit and igniting a massive fireball that ripped the suit, and the cannon upon which it rested, apart. Dash Holloway was immolated even as his fingers brushed the surface of the Earth, a wordless cry escaping from his lips as his body was consumed. CT’s blue eyes closed – the thread had been cut.

“You bastard!” Serj had witnessed the entire series of events, as he had moved at maximum thrusters to attempt to reach the X. Gripped by a towering fury, he sent the Impulse directly towards the Stargazer. CT countered with several beam pistol shots, but the Impulse juked slightly in its motion, taking glancing blows on its shoulders instead of breaking off the attack and dodging. The damage was minimal, and soon the Impulse had reached its target. Combining the two Excalibur swords into one massive blade, Serj took a mighty swing at the Stargazer, but the other suit nimbly avoided the attack. The Impulse pressed on, cutting again and again, Serj totally consumed with the fight. He ignored a flashing light from his console, and focused on CT.

CT stared in wonder, as the threads flashed before his eyes. The light was dimming, though. His eyes strained from behind his goggles to see them, as he continued to avoid the attacks. One thread in particular interested him. He saw it connected to all the others, but it also jutted straight from his chest. It blinked, one moment as bright as the sun, the next all but invisible. He fired a beam pistol at the Impulse, trying to ignore the sight, but Serj dodged it and swung again… No. CT had made a mistake. Preoccupied with his own thread, he had fallen for the feint. Grasping at the controls, he attempted to dodge in the other direction, but it was too late.

“Traitor.” Serj spat the word, letting loose a mighty uppercut. The blow split the Stargazer straight down the middle. CT Weaver saw his own thread vanish before his eyes, and within his mind the voice of his Holistic Gundam went silent, before the blade sliced through his cockpit, and then him. The two halves of the destroyed suit combusted immediately, metal shards raining into the lake below. Odadjian allowed himself a brief grunt of satisfaction, but the victory rang hollow considering what had already been lost. And what was that sound?

“Power reserves depleted. Warning. Warning. Power reserves depleted.” Serj yelled in frustration, immediately turning his suit to retreat. “Come ON!” The Impulse jetted off, but quickly began to lose thruster speed and altitude. Its legs were soon dragging across the waters of the lake, and it was by the barest of margins that he managed to gain the shore, tumbling into a heap on the ground. There was no more energy left in the battery, and Serj’s suit was, for the moment, no more useful than a large rock.

Serj ejected from his suit moments before a missile blast removed its head. Tucking, he slammed into the ground hard, losing his breath for a moment. His survival instincts and adrenalin kicked in, though, and he was quickly on his feet, sprinting towards the cover afforded by the nearby forest. Several more missile blasts engulfed his suit, and the Impulse, now totally out of battery power, had no defense. In a gout of flame, it was destroyed. The blast threw Serj forward, but his Parkour skills allowed him to turn the movement into an awkward flip, keeping his feet. Gaining the treeline, he looked around briefly, before being grabbed from behind. Whirling, his mind contemplating whether to fight or flee, he is instead faced with Charlie Cordova’s grim visage. The two men stared at each other briefly, before the Armenian man gathered the energy to speak.

“Messaoud?”

Cordova merely shook his head, once. The anger had left both pilots now, and there was little more to do but recover from this disaster. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Charlie stared at the Lake Victoria base. It was nearly invisible through the flames caused by the demolition of the X, but still it stood. Closing his eyes for just a moment, the Gundam fighter straightened with an effort, and gripped Serj briefly on the shoulder. The two set off through the forest, looking to put some distance between them and this place of death. In Serj’s head, a refrain echoed –

They haven’t got a thing to say. I bleed for this and I bleed for you… What’s it like to be a heretic? You’re a joke.

Outcome: Lake Victoria remains
Stargazer: Upgrading, pilot dead
Impulse: Upgrading
Jack in Diamond: Upgrading
Hildolfr: Upgrading, pilot dead
X: Upgrading, pilot dead

___________________________________________________________________________
Assault on GMA Base
By: Perfect Zeong

--- GMA Base, Mercury – Altitude 1470 meters ---

“Why did they put me out on this godforsaken ugly rock, anyway…” the base commander said aloud, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“Sir?” a technician asked, leaning over from his station.

“Huh?” the commander inquired before realizing he’d been talking to himself again. “Oh, uhh, nothing. As you were.” The commander looked a bit flustered, but quickly regained control of the situation. “Where’s the status report from the second Aries patrol?”

“The patrol leader reports that they saw something re-entering the atmosphere not far from their designated patrol area,” the communications officer stated. “He thinks it could be a ship.”

“A ship?” the commander inquired. The rogue vessels already operating on Mercury were leaving him at wits’ end as is – this new development certainly wasn’t helping any. “Tell them to swing by for another pass but keep their distance. That vessel should be showing up on our sensors any time now.”

“Understood, sir,” the communications officer noted, relaying those orders to the Aries patrol.

---

“Re-entry sequence complete,” the Déjà Vu’s logistics technician reported as the heat shields protecting the bridge windows lowered out of sight. “No anomalies detected.”

“Good job, everyone,” the captain said, in her usually-upbeat tone. “I’m sure that got their attention.”

“That’s the plan,” Elric Tchaikovsky noted. He was some feet behind the captain’s chair, leaning up against a bulkhead with arms crossed. Though he certainly looked rather imposing with a definitively brooding mannerism, it was also a function of some minor anxiety. He had full confidence in the abilities of his men and their mobile suits, not to mention the not-insignificant firepower of the Déjà Vu and the insect-like mobile armor Gells-Ghe stored in its hangar. On the other hand, according to what intelligence he had on the Orb base, he was going up against an enemy that outnumbered him roughly three-to-one…

No matter, Elric thought, producing a flask of premium single-malt whiskey and taking a swig. Those things are toys compared to what I’ve got in this ship.

“That should draw them out of base,” he stated.

“An’ then we smash ‘em,” a familiarly grating voice declared. Elric held the flask off to his left as his compatriot Dylan Bennett entered the bridge door off to his one side. He couldn’t see her, due to the corner being between him and her, but he’d recognize that voice anywhere. Dylan obliged his offering and took the container – both of them were enthusiasts of the drink.

“Bingo,” Elric confirmed. The Déjà Vu decelerated and leveled off, achieving a stable angle-of-attack. “Those mobile suits should be easy work for our team.” Elric re-adjusted his belt and took a few steps ahead to get a better view through the bridge windows. “Now then, as for this ship-”

“Stay out of missile range, and fire the big gun at the base on your orders, right?” the captain suggested, sporting a somewhat cheeky expression. Elric’s sentence, along with his hand gesture, quickly deflated.

Gah! Newtypes! Elric mentally grumbled. As if to further his befuddlement, she stifled a giggle as soon as it crossed his mind.

“…correct,” Elric conceded. “The Wild Dagger and Gells-Ghe will remain here to protect the ship on the off chance the enemy launches a counterattack. Unlikely, but no reason not to prepare for it anyway. The Slaughter Dagger and Geara Doga will pair off into one group, Dylan and I into another.” Dylan made a mock two-finger salute before finishing the contents of the flask. “Everyone else who isn’t defending the ship will form the third group.” He looked to the captain and nodded. “Make it happen.”

“All right then!” the captain eagerly remarked, making a “rock” gesture with her hands. “All units, prepare to move out!”

---

“Commander, we’ve confirmed the presence of a vessel on an approach vector,” the observation officer reported. One of the large monitors switched to a tactical map, showing the position of the base as an “X” – the approaching ship showed the outline of an Archangel-class vessel (the default image in the sensor GUI for unfamiliar ships) with “UNKNOWN” stamped on it.

“What’s their trajectory?” the commander asked, shifting over to one side of his chair.

“Calculating now…” A variety of courses, shown as arrows branching out from the unknown ship’s current position, appeared on the map. The largest one pointed straight at the base. “It would seem the most likely destination is us, sir.” The commander was beginning to look somewhat worried.

“What have we got on that class of ship?” he said.

“No matches for any ship fielded by the Orb military,” a logistics technician chimed in. “It’s not one of ours, that’s for sure. In fact, it’s not coming up in the ship registry at all…” Somewhat more worried.

“What about their communications?” he asked.

“Encrypted, sir,” the communications officer replied.

“Obviously!” the commander snapped back. “Does their encryption system match any known algorithms?!” He looked as though he was having difficulty remaining seated.

“Patience, sir! It’ll take a moment for the systems to make a match, if there even is one…” a technician stated. “In any case, we already started trying to find a match a few minutes ago. It should be done soon.” Another large monitor began displaying what appeared to be lines and lines of hexadecimal babble as it compared huge repositories of archived communications strings from various Orb bases and ships. Eventually, it found a match, and began further extrapolation from there. After about twenty further lines, it had found a reasonable match satisfactory to its programming:

The Drake’s Legacy insignia appeared on the screen, followed by a list of recent piracies by Legacy-affiliated forces. The commander blanched.

“…pirates!” he finally exclaimed. “It’s the damn pirates, trying to sneak in on us! Well, then, they’ll get exactly what’s coming to them!” He stood up and outstretched his hand. “Recall all Aries immediately! Regroup, then come down right onto their heads! We’ll show those brigands what for!”

“At once, commander!”

---

“Any time now…” Elric muttered, keeping his eyes peeled for anything that looked hostile. From their altitude, the enemy could approach from virtually any angle, and that didn’t sit well with him. The base could actually be seen with the naked eye, though only as a small splotch in the far distance. Dylan’s Zanspine hovered not far to one side, projecting a pair of “beam wings” from its Minovsky drives. The mobile armor Gells-Ghe hovered near the Déjà Vu’s bridge, ready to defend the command center with its positron reflector if things got ugly. The almost thruster-less Wild Dagger was confined to act as an over-glorified quadruped turret on the vessel’s flat, nearly-featureless hull. Elric’s other units kept a distance from the vessel, but were close enough to respond to any sudden “surprises” that may arise.

Elric was about to radio the bridge for another status update when the handset abruptly buzzed for attention.

“Elric here, go ahead,” he stated into it.

“That got their attention all right. A whole swarm of them are coming our way, one-o’clock high. Heads up,” the Déjà Vu’s radar officer reported.

“Don’t get hurt or anything! I still haven’t forgiven you for that incident,” the captain quickly chimed in.

Oh, of course, Elric rolled his eyes.

“Somehow, I think I’ll manage,” he replied with a sarcastic edge. He was about to come back with a witty retort when the aforementioned swarm became visually apparent: a full twenty Aries air-combat mobile suits, bearing the Orb insignia and bristling with missile pods, were quickly descending on the position of his unit. “Bogeys incoming; look alive, people!” Elric barked, snapping his Savior Gundam into its mobile armor configuration for the added speed.

---

“What the hell is that bug-thing next to the ship?”

“I count six mobile suits, anything else?”

“That one just changed into a fighter of some sort!”

“Cut the chatter!” the Aries flight leader ordered. “Groups Able and Baker, go after the vessel – disable its engines and maneuvering surfaces. Group Charlie, spread out and start pummeling the mobile weapons on its left side – Dog, take the right. Group Easy, follow up on me, we’re going after that red one!” The pilots responded with various affirmatives. “All right, hit them with some missiles, then close to guns! Go!”

Each Aries was packing a full quartet of outrigger missile pods on their wings, which promptly vomited forth a literal hailstorm of corkscrewing warheads.

---

“Confirmed, Aries squad has made contact with the enemy!” the base logistics officer noted, changing the large monitor to a much more detailed overview map – the approaching ship was centered in the middle, as were a number of dots representing its mobile suits. The swarm of Aries descending on them were marked “07AMS” with various group designations following – Dog 3, Baker 2, etc.

“Let’s see how you like that, you thugs!” the commander snickered, leaning forward for what promised to be an entertaining show.

---

“Incoming from one-o’-clock, almost directly above, ten air-combat mobile suits! They’ve launched missiles!” the Déjà Vu’s logistics officer shouted.

“Deploy CIWS and respond with some missiles of our own,” the captain smirked, resting her chin on tented fingers.

“Deploying CIWS and loading antiaircraft missiles!” the chief gunnery officer relayed. Outside, a full dozen computer-guided close-in guns popped out of their concealed positions on the ship’s streamlined hull and aimed skyward.

“Fire!” A brief electric whine as the multi-barrel guns whirred into action was promptly silenced by a buzz saw-like drone as the air defenses opened up. A torrent of spent shell casings tumbled off the edges of the deck and towards the ground below. Not a moment later, the sky above was blossoming with dozen of explosions as four-centimeter shells struck the incoming cloud, detonating their warheads well in advance. Most shells struck nothing at all, but just the same, many missiles were taken out by the “fratricide” of a missile nearby’s detonation. Of the cloud previously launched, a paltry six reached their targets. Two zeroed in on the Gells-Ghe, and harmlessly splattered against its prismatic positron reflector, much to the delight of its three-man crew. The remainder struck the Déjà Vu’s flat, almost featureless forward hull, throwing bits of red armor plate into the air.

“Direct hits to frontal bow area! No fires or damage to any critical systems,” a damage control officer reported.

“Oh, fuu, they’re scratching up my ship…” the captain sighed. The gunnery officer didn’t wait for the order – the captain’s body language was evidence enough.

“Antiaircraft missiles, fire!”

---

“Sod off, ya trash!” Dylan exclaimed, lining up an Aries that was rapidly closing on her. A “LOCK ON” indicator near the HUD began buzzing, and shortly thereafter more than a dozen missiles leapt off the Aries’ wings. Dylan cursed and launched a pair of her mobile suit’s bits, swatting down four times their number in moments. A bat of the Zanspine’s beam wings took care of the remainder, pelting her with debris from their fragmentation warheads. The Aries, seemingly discouraged, opened up with its chain rifle, stitching a few holes across the Zanspine’s shoulder and upper torso. Dylan responded in kind, putting a clean hole through the Aries left engine – the housing exploded, sending the Aries into a spiraling descent towards the distant ground below. “Ha ha! Oi, Elric! First one’s mine!”

“You can brag later,” Elric muttered, snapping his mobile armor’s wings to be perpendicular to the ground as a flurry of missiles streaked past him on either side. He wasn’t particularly worried about damage to his Savior Gundam – its Variable Phase-Shift Armor would likely shrug off whatever the Aries’ could throw at him. Nevertheless, wholly unnecessary risks really weren’t his thing. A full fifth of the enemy Aries force was charging directly towards him, chain rifles blaring. Did they figure out I’m calling the shots somehow? Elric thought as he depressed the triggers for Savior’s heavy weapons. The twin plasma cannons and their coaxial beam guns lashed out at the mobile suits gunning for him, striking two in their torsos. One simply blew apart from inside, showering chunks of its body and avionic components forward like a three-dimensional paint splatter. The other abruptly began falling out of the sky, a fire burning around the twin holes in his head and shoulders. Elric noted a parachute opening near it before it disappeared from his field of vision. The remaining two Aries streaked by him, splitting in opposite directions to make another pass.

---

“Able, Baker, what’s taking so long?!” the Aries flight leader demanded. The red transformable mobile suit was proving a harder nut to crack than he had previously anticipated.

“We can’t get close to the ship, and that damn bug thing keeps absorbing our missiles!” the Baker group leader responded. “Shit, Baker 3 is down!” The insect-like mobile armor’s beam rifles tore one Aries apart, finishing it off with a blast from its double-barreled cannon.

“This is Able 4! There’s this blue mobile suit with a fucking howitzer over here! And a black one that maneuvers better than we do!” another voice crackled over his radio. “We’re getting eaten alive!”

“No excuses! There’s three of us to every one of them! Fly your Aries into the damn thing’s engines if you have to, I want it on the ground, NOW!” the flight leader shut off his radio entirely as he locked on to the red transformable mobile suit again. “As for you…”

---

“Damn! One of them just crashed into our starboard CIWS suite!” the Déjà Vu’s damage control officer announced. “Only two guns are still operational in that group.”

“Get Mr. Slaughter Dagger to watch where he’s aiming!” the captain demanded, crossing her arms in an angry gesture. “If he can’t take them out entirely, let someone else do it.” Another Aries shot past the Déjà Vu’s bridge – the loss of two-thirds of the starboard CIWS turrets was noticeable. Just as it began turning to make another pass with its missile pods, a high-velocity shell struck its lower body, sending it bouncing end over end down the length of the Déjà Vu’s hull – it skidded to a halt near the front of the ship and started burning.

“The same goes for you as well, Mr. Zudah!” she added. The blue mobile suit gave a thumbs-up gesture to the bridge staff as it reloaded the magazine on its heavy anti-MS rifle. “How is our firing angle on the enemy base?”

“Another two minutes before we can fire the positron blaster, ma’am,” the chief gunnery officer reported. The captain nodded.

“Have Mr. Geara Doga set himself up behind the catapult incase any of those mosquitoes tries to attack us again,” the captain ordered.

---

The base commander’s mood had gone from ecstatic, to anxious, to downright horrified. The giant tactical map showed in perfect detail and clarity as each Aries’ IFF signal stopped transmitting – the little green logos marked “07AMS” replaced with red and the word “DOWN.” Less than half the original force remained, and the approaching vessel was apparently unfazed.

“How… how much longer until the pirate ship is within missile range?” he asked in a shaky tone.

“Umm…” a technician said, jarred back away from the display. “Fifteen minutes, sir!”

“Alright,” he stated, trying to regain his composure. “Prepare anti-ship missiles. The moment that thing crosses the firing radius, let them have it!”

---

Between the heavy beam cannons of the Geara Doga and the Jamru Fin, the Aries’ combined attack on the Déjà Vu was quickly crumbling into a turkey shoot. The Wild Dagger’s back-mounted gatling gun shredded yet another Aries, reducing their number to a paltry six.

“Impossible! I am NOT going to lose to pirates!” the Aires flight leader proclaimed. “Dog 4, Easy 2, we’re going to take out the damn red mobile suit! Dog, follow me in, Easy, flank around behind him! Go! Go!” he barked.

“Understood, boss! Forming up now,” one Aries broke off its attack on the ship and began matching the flight leader’s path. The other made a sharp dive and began closing with the red mobile suit from below.

---

“You again?” Elric growled. With only a handful of Aries left, speed wasn’t as important as being able to turn quickly, and Elric reconfigured his Gundam into its mobile suit form. The two heavy plasma guns swung under its arms, and he began taking a bead on the Aries rapidly closing the distance between he and itself. “Go die!” Elric exclaimed, firing both the main guns and their coaxial beam cannons. Abruptly, the Aries apparently doubled – one darted to the side as the original was holed by the Savior’s heavy weapons. It occurred to Elric that it had actually been using the one behind it to try and fool him into thinking there was only one mobile suit! No matter, he thought again, preparing for a second shot. Suddenly, he was abruptly jostled around in his cockpit, and for the first time, noted a proximity warning buzzing near the edge of his peripheral vision. Another Aries had literally latched on to his back! The first jettisoned its spent missile pods, flipped its chain rifle over into an improvised melee weapon, and shoulder-checked into his Gundam. “Agh! Get off!” he demanded as all three jumbled mobile suits began quickly losing altitude.

“Elric!” Dylan exclaimed, diverting her eyes from the Aries she was about to blast with her bits. Two missiles impacted the Zanspine’s shoulder, blasting the armor clean off. “You rat!” Dylan discharged her beam string emitters, causing the Aries to fly apart. She then fired up the Minovsky drives and began diving after Elric’s plummeting mobile suit.

---

“Firing trajectory has been computed and set,” the chief gunnery officer reported. “We can fire the positron blaster at any time.”

“Wonderful,” the captain remarked, beaming. “Elric, the big gun is waiting for your orders.”

“I’m slightly busy at the moment!” Elric’s voice came through the radio.

“Oh dear,” she said. “Are you in trouble?”

---

The butt of the Aries’ chain rifle repeatedly pounded into the Savior’s chest and head, thoroughly knocking Elric around. The Aries behind him had immobilized the Savior’s arms, and the one currently administrating the beating was well inside the minimum range of his twin plasma cannons. Even his head-mounted vulcan guns were of no use. This wouldn’t be a problem if I had a gun on the shield… Elric thought. He saw Dylan’s Zanspine dropping altitude as well, evidently coming to save him. What worried him was whether or not he’d reach the ground first. Suddenly, an idea! This probably isn’t healthy for the transformation mechanisms, but they’re going to be scrap along with the rest of the Gundam if I don’t do something quick-like! Elric depressed the switch to reconfigure the Savior into its mobile armor mode. As he predicted, the Aries on his back immediately became a mobile suit’s “wrench in the gears” grinding the transformation to a halt. What had moved just enough, however, was the armor plate with the twin machine guns on it.

“Gotcha!” Elric announced, opening fire. The burst perforated the Aries’ shoulder and engine contained therein; the explosion, along with the sudden radical change in total thrust, caused the Savior and its two muggers to abruptly flip around. The force of the spin, combined with a firm knee, caused the Aries grappling him to the front to go sailing off towards the ground.

---

“Bastard! You’re going to get it now, you son of a-” the Aries flight leader’s curse was cut short as his suit fragmented into hundreds of pieces by the Gundam’s beam rifle.

“Shit! They got the flight leader!” the pilot of the Aries still grappling the Gundam’s back exclaimed.

“Oh, fuck this madness! Let’s split!” another Aries demanded. No sounds of opposition were voiced, and the three remaining Aries broke off combat with the enemy force, making high speed for their base.

---

Dylan had to sidestep her Zanspine to avoid crashing headlong into the Aries that had just disengaged Elric’s Gundam. She was more than a bit puzzled at this sudden turn of events.

“Huh,” she noted. “Wha’ever ye did, it warked.”

“That was… interesting…” Elric said, watching the three MS disappear into the distance.

“Oh, are you un-busy now?” the captain’s voice came over his radio.

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” Elric posited, rubbing his head; it and a monitor had a disagreement at some point during the fall. She laughed.

“That sounds like an order to fire the big gun to me!” she said cheerily.

---

An electronic chart appeared in a window of the main tactical map showing the returning Aries units – seventeen were marked “DOWN”.

“Damn those miserable pirates…” the commander growled. “Almost our Aries force, like it was nothing!”

“We’ll be reviewing the data from the combat observation unit once the pirate ship is no longer in this area,” a logistics officer stated. “Until then, we won’t know exactly what destroyed our mobile suits so easily.”

“Hmph,” the commander grumbled. “What’s the status on the enemy ship? Can we shoot them yet?”

“Another three minutes until they’re within missile range, commander,” he replied.

“Good,” the commander nodded. “They may have taken out our mobile suits, but they’ll never take this base.” Not if I have anything to say about it, he thought. “What’s the status on the anti-ship missiles?”

“Loading is complete; we’re now waiting until the enemy ship has entered into-” the logistics officer was abruptly cut off.

“Commander! We’re detecting a massive energy spike from the pirate ship!” a technician shouted.

“What?!” the commander demanded. “What else could they possibly have up their sleeves?! THEY’RE JUST DIRTY PIRATES, FOR GOD’S S-”

The lance of energy from the Déjà Vu’s positron blaster tore through the side of the base, atomizing the command center and puncturing one of the great Minovsky-craft systems all at once.

---

The chief gunnery officer lowered his binoculars, satisfied with the results of the first shot fired by the Déjà Vu’s main cannon. Even from here, the curious green explosion of the Minovsky-craft system blowing itself apart was quite visible.

“Direct hit on enemy hover system,” the officer noted.

“Well done, well done,” the captain noted, nodding her head approvingly. “Elric, should we prepare for another shot?”

“No, I think that’ll do just fine,” he radioed back. “The gravity’s kinda weak here so it’ll take a little longer for that thing to fall. But fall it will.”

---

Hours later…

The smoldering, shattered remains of the GMA base had landed relatively intact, all things considered. Most of the base infrastructure was damaged beyond repair, but the burnt-out hulk would be a landmark in this region of the desolate planet for quite some time.

The Déjà Vu put down nearby, allowing Elric, Dylan and the others to forage for anything useful if they so desired. The crew of the Gells-Ghe opted to remain behind to continue to guard ship (and continue to enjoy the benefits of their air-conditioned cabin).

Elric’s Savior was positioned behind a crushed blockhouse in the base’s residential and dormitory areas. Nearly an hour of rooting around in the dilapidated complex had netted him what he desired. It was a very small parcel, easily overlooked. Not even the size of a postage stamp. To anyone else in the world besides him, it was useless. Elric knew better, and carefully tucked the item into an antistatic bag, and then that into his shirt pocket.

“Yo, boss!” a voice crackled across his radio. Elric jumped notably, thinking someone had suddenly snuck up on his discovery.

“Umm… yes, what is it?” he asked, quickly recovering his wits.

“We found an Aries in the hangar – looks like it’s salvageable!” the Zudah’s pilot radioed to him. “Between this and the one that crashed onto the deck of the ship, we should have enough parts to assemble a fully functional unit!”

“Oh. Uh, that’s awesome, I guess,” Elric replied. “I’ll make my way over there, then.”

“Swell. See you in a bit,” he shut off his end of the signal.

Hey! Calm down… you got what you came for, now it’s time to bugger out. Nothing wrong with bringing a few spoils along the way…he thought. Elric powered up the Savior and began walking down the avenue between the residence area and the remains of the sensor array. The complex was bristling with antennas, dishes and relays amid a small forest of skeletal towers – some of which had drooped in the intense heat from the positron blast like sickly old trees. As Elric passed by one, he began to feel a tingling sensation as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. What the…

“Mr. Tchaikovsky,” a voice stated rather flatly. Elric froze in place. …shit. There was an awkward silence. Exactly perpendicular to Elric’s current position, down a “T” junction in the roadways, was another mobile suit – indeed, what looked like an exact clone of his own, save for its antithetical azure paint scheme.

“…Harmon,” Elric acknowledged in a slow, deliberate pace, as if addressing a fierce monster that could strike at the slightest provocation.

“I see you are still making good on your only real talent,” Imperial Knight Harmon Piper stated dryly. The destruction surrounding all of them belied the intent of his comment.

“When did you get here?” Elric asked.

“I heard you would be in the area,” Harmon began, “and thought I might stop by to… refresh your memory… about who is holding your leash.”

“Oh, they promoted you to dog catcher now?” Elric balked. “I see you’re moving up in the world. Truly, Her Highness must see great potential in you.”

“Such large words for such a tiny insect,” Harmon replied. A notable edge was appearing in his words. If there was one thing Elric knew for sure, the Knight had a short temper and was easily infuriated. “Perhaps after I have beaten you half to death, you will know you place, you infinitesimally insignificant bug.”

“I guess that makes me a cockroach,” Elric snickered. “No matter how hard the big scary exterminator tries, he can’t kill me. Heh.”

“Do NOT tempt the spirit of my ire, you scum,” Harmon growled. “This is a derelict base on the middle of a useless little ball of dirt. You might have an accident.”

“Oh, there’d be hell to pay then, wouldn’t there?” Elric laughed. “The janitor ended up making the mess even bigger! You probably wouldn’t get to suck on the Queen’s teat for a whole week!”

“SILENCE!!” Harmon bellowed, activating the azure Savior’s twin plasma cannons. “YOU ARE COMING BACK TODAY WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!” Two red-white blasts erupted from both barrels. Elric was almost positive that comment would set him off, but even still, the knight’s quickness of reflex caught him by surprise. A substantial chunk of his own mobile suit’s shoulder evaporated, taking part of a wing and the plasma beam cannon’s actuator with it. Elric leveled his beam rifle and fired – the projectile scattered into particles of light against Harmon’s quickly-drawn beam saber. Harmon threw the Savior’s arm behind him and began charging down the roadway, beam saber tearing through the walls of the building to his side as he went.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

---

“Oh dear,” the captain said, putting a hand to one side of her head.

“Something wrong, ma’am?” the gunnery chief inquired.

“Elric’s in trouble again,” she replied rather flatly. “Begin charging the big gun again.” The gunnery chief frowned, but thought better of questioning the captain’s judgment.

“As you wish, ma’am,” he acknowledged.

---

Dylan was wondering what could possibly be of such interest to Elric that would motivate him to continue to hang around the desolated, and now eerily quiet, fortification.

“Probabley jus’ wants a souv’nir,” she muttered, examining some of the scuffs and dents in the Zanspine’s armor plating through its external cameras. Before she could begin to posit what other justifications there may be, Elric’s Savior and its blue clone crashed through the wall of a bunker not five hundred feet from her current position. “Wha’ in-”

“Dylan, move it!!” Elric demanded as his mobile suit hit the ground. Already beaten from the encounter with the Aries earlier, the red Savior was now missing an arm entirely, both of its plasma cannons and most of its transformation mechanisms.

“Brought some friends, did you?” Harmon said with an utterly malicious tone. “I certainly don’t need to bring them back alive…”

“Oh bugger,” Dylan remarked, finding herself looking down the barrel of a plasma cannon. Dylan fired up the Minovsky drives again, forming the signature “wings of light” into something of an ersatz cocoon in front of her mobile suit. Harmon’s plasma salvo harmlessly dissipated off it. Dylan launched her two remaining bits and was about to make a witty retort when Harmon’s beam saber sailed down the street and into the Zanspine’s head, plunging Dylan into darkness and eliciting a flavorful string of curses.

“Now then, where were we?” Harmon stated.

“You Imperial fuckwit!” Elric seethed, grabbing a beam saber with his remaining arm. Harmon’s foot promptly planted itself into the Savior’s hand, pinning it to the ground. A shot from his beam rifle wrecked the mobile suit’s head, once again preventing Elric from putting his vulcan guns to use.

“Ah, yes. I believe I was taking you back to where you belong,” Harmon concluded. Another blast disabled the Savior’s other arm, rendering it effectively defenseless.

“Now wait one moment you slimy-” Dylan was again interrupted by a bolt of plasma, this time knocking one of the Zanspine’s legs out from under it. Having just gotten the auxiliary cameras online, she was now treated to a beautiful view of the charred asphalt.

“Wait your turn,” Harmon said sharply. Tossing his beam rifle aside, he roughly grabbed the Savior’s leg and hefted it into the air. “I know a nice place back on good old Luna. We have a reservation for you and everything.”

Bail out. Those two words appeared in Elric’s mind. The source was unclear. It most definitely was not the voices that had been troubling him since his escape – nevertheless, he saw no reason why not to follow their advice. Better than going back to the moon, in any case. The Savior’s cockpit hatch jettisoned, and Elric tumbled down off his mobile suit and into the horribly hot, dry “atmosphere” again. An overturned truck looked like a particularly inviting place to be.

“Your tenacity is certainly admirable… pity you cannot put it to any worthwhile use,” Harmon sneered. “Oh well, perhaps…” His voice trailed off as he saw the tip of the Déjà Vu rise above the base concourse. An instant later a massive positron beam streaked across the base concourse for the second time, further annihilating some structures that had miraculously avoided the destruction earlier. Both Saviors disappeared with it.

Wha’ on… ‘ow did they know? Dylan thought.

Elric covered his head with his hands and hoped the truck would remain where it was – it was the only thing between him and some lovely third-degree burns, not to mention whatever flying debris was being knocked around. The maelstrom subsided as soon as it began. A few more pieces of flying matter fell to the ground, and then the dull, motionless heat returned. Elric crawled out from under the vehicle – a moment of panic caught him, and he quickly felt his shirt pocket, where he was relieved to find its precious contents remained intact.

Harmon! Elric turned to where the Saviors were previously. Some of his remained – the charred edges of a wing here, most of an arm there, and a complete beam rifle some distance away. Harmon’s azure Gundam was nowhere to be seen, in part or whole. Could I be that lucky? Elric thought. A voice in his ear, this time from his wireless headset, demanded his attention.

“Hey, boss! What the hell was that?” another of his pilots asked. The Guncannon Detector, its red hide fitting right in on the Mercurial surface, emerged from behind a blockhouse several blocks down.

“An old friend,” Elric remarked rather bitterly.

Outcome: GMA Base destroyed
Savior: Upgrading
Zanspine: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Nu and Tallgeese II ambush Crossbone X-2
By: Perfect Zeong

“This place is certainly a lot uglier than I realized…” Alexie Romanov noted. The panoramic cockpit of his new black mobile suit gave him a much better view of the areas around him – along with the improved situational awareness came improved clarity of the scenery around him. The bitterly cold, windswept mountains did little to appease his sense of aesthetics.

What did appease him, though, was a sighting of an assault ship in the vicinity of the previous week’s “festivities”. Alexie felt somewhat shortchanged in his participation in the fierce battle – getting to paste a straggler would certainly be a refreshing diversion. His quarry, the Pegasus-class vessel Swayze, was almost certainly nearby. Unfortunately, Alexie had lost track of it on his sensors after the usually-inclement weather grew even worse.

“There’s no way I could lose something as big as that,” Alexie said to himself. “Even if there’s a blizzard on…” He set the Crossbone X-2 down on an outcropping to try and further survey his surroundings, but remained in a state of bafflement. It seemed like the thing actually had gotten away. “Well, damn… now-” he was abruptly cut off as a cannon shell slammed into the side of his mobile suit, bowling it over amid a much smoke and flame. Before he even had a chance to figure out what happened, much less hit the ground, a pink beam parted the snow and impacted him from the opposite side, burning off a substantial chunk of his anti-beam cloak but otherwise leaving him mostly undamaged.

“What!?” Feyd Aurion and Makoto Nagano exclaimed simultaneously. Feyd and Makoto had been stalking Alexie for some time now, but in their focused efforts, neither had noticed the other. Feyd lowered his dobergun to get a better view of what just happened; Makoto did the same to his shield-mounted beam cannon. “When did you get here?!” both demanded, again in an eerily-unintentional unison. “That’s what I was going to ask!”

“I haven’t got time for this…” Feyd grumbled – the sheer surprise of the advent had shaken his normally-austere mannerisms, but he recovered quickly enough. Feyd activated the huge boosters on the Tallgeese II’s back and went airborne.

“Hey! Don’t think you can just spoil a perfectly good sneak attack like that and get away with it!” Makoto proclaimed, unloading two rounds from his hyper bazooka before taking off as well. One skimmed the fin of Feyd’s left booster and exploded behind him, scorching the Tallgeese’s back but not inflicting enough damage to bring him out of the air. Alexie was just getting to his feet when the Nu Gundam quite literally landed on his mobile suit’s shoulders, flattening it back into the ground as Makoto performed another jet-assisted jump to get up to Feyd’s altitude.

“What did I do to deserve this…?” Alexie pondered. His new panoramic cockpit gave him an excellent view of snow on all sides.

Go away, you… Feyd mentally muttered, firing a shot from his dobergun at the oncoming Gundam. Makoto blocked the projectile, but the heavy explosive shell seriously dented his shield and rendered its beam cannon inoperative.

“We’re not done yet!” Makoto exclaimed, loosing his fin funnels. Feyd immediately pegged one, but the remainder quickly surrounded him and began boxing him in with beam gun fire. Feyd’s face contorted somewhat in an expression of dissatisfaction and annoyance as he danced around the barrage. Tallgeese’s mobility kept him out of harm’s way, but just barely – and he wasn’t in a position to attack the Nu Gundam either. Makoto felt his upward momentum was just about expended; he’d be returning to the ground in short order. “How about one for the road?” he sarcastically offered, unloading another shell from his hyper bazooka. Feyd scoffed and slammed the Tallgeese’s body to one side, allowing the shell to narrowly pass by its torso. Gotcha! Makoto ecstatically grinned. A fin funnel intentionally rammed into the shell, blowing itself up and catching the Tallgeese within the impressive blast. Makoto willed the remaining fin funnels back to him as he fell to the ground – he was down to three, but the Tallgeese was certainly in worse shape than he was. Feyd’s heavily blackened mobile suit emerged from the smoke cloud, engines sputtering and with bits of its armor flaking off like rust.

Gah, how careless of me! Feyd frowned. The Tallgeese II’s engines gave out completely, leaving Feyd with little more option than to try and aim for a suitable spot to make a crash-landing away from the remaining combatants.

“Remember that next time you’re thinking of crashing someone else’s party!” Makoto announced, landing – once again – on the hapless Crossbone X-2’s back. Alexie was becoming quite irate by this point.

“Get off me, you jackass!” he produced a beam saber from the Crossbone’s shoulder and attempted to jam it through the Nu Gundam’s leg. His aim was somewhat off, only succeeding in annihilating one of the thruster housings on the side of its calves. Nevertheless, it did serve the purpose of getting the much larger mobile suit off him. “What is your problem, anyway!? Weren’t you at that giant battle too?!”

“Huh?” Makoto asked, getting a stable footing. “Oh, yeah, that battle. That was fun, wasn’t it?” Alexie looked utterly mortified. “Well, stay out of trouble!” Makoto said with a cheery tone, taking off down the opposite side of the embankment.

“But… you… and he… and I…” Alexie desperately attempted to make sense of what just happened. “My head…” he said, wondering if he’d packed any aspirin.

Outcome: Nu wins
Nu Gundam: 1 days damage
Crossbone X-2: 2 days damage
Tallgeese II: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
SUMO versus Qubeley Mark II
By: Victory 2

Simão Gomes allowed his fingers to tap against the side of his cane. It was a small gesture, the only way in which the experienced fighter allowed himself to betray his impatience. In the cockpit of the golden SUMO, he closed his eyes and thought of days gone by. He could still recall the glory of his Gundam Fights, the brilliance of the fighters themselves, and his own triumphs. He was broken out of his reverie by a slight cramping of one withered leg. Wincing, he returned to the current moment, as he sighed and flicked on his comm.

“Shiva, are you going to sit there all day? I’m not getting any younger out here, you know.” Inside the Qubeley Mark II, Kali Shiva twisted about, trying to locate the various controls. She had been thorough in her preparations, and she decided she was finally prepared to engage in battle. The red mobile suit powered up, and she placed her psycommu controller helmet on her head. Taking a deep breath, she was ready to begin.

“Okay old man. Whenever you’re ready.” She placed her hand on the switch to release her funnels, smirking as she did so. With its remote weaponry, she could easily keep the SUMO at a distance, ripping it to pieces with her beam fire. Even so, it couldn’t hurt to engage the old…

The SUMO slammed into the Qubeley, shoulder-tackling it to the ground. A large dent appeared directly in the Qubeley’s chest, and Kali had the breath knocked from her lungs as she slammed against her seat restraints. Though his legs were crippled, nothing was wrong with Simão’s hands, and they flew across the controls. His suit became little more than a golden blur, twisting about and kicking the Qubeley Mk. II’s tail binder clean off. The storage unit spiraled away into the distant Martian horizon, and the SUMO leveled its beam gun at the fallen Qubeley. The speed and precision of the attack had caught Kali completely off-guard, and she knew she was beaten. “Uhh, yield?”

Simão chuckled. “You might be better than me one day, young one. But that’s not the case today. Now come on, let us get back to Tharsis. You can buy me a hot chocolate and we’ll discuss what you can do to avoid getting blitzkrieged like that.” Extending a hand, the SUMO helped the larger mobile suit to its feet, and the two headed off to recover the tail binder and return to base.

Outcome: SUMO wins, Qubeley Mk. II loses
SUMO: No damage
Qubeley Mk. II: 2(1) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Clowning Around
By: Stargazer

Arms clenched to her sides, Ariel’s slender gymnast’s frame shook. It channeled power to the surrounding steel, a perfect fusion of human energy and technology. The burning spark of life and determination deep within the girl drove the Jester up from the dusty surface of the Earth into the sharp blue sky. The sun glared brightly as it rose in the morning air, trailing spindly arms behind it. Sunlight reflected off of the golden sheen of its helm.

Nearly ten miles away, the lookout on the Swayze caught the telltail glint.

“Sir! We have visual contact!”

The captain of the Pegasus class looked concerned. This was a new assignment for him, on a ship he was not particularly familiar with. He gestured to the sensors officer, thoughtfully.

“It’s a single mobile suit, sir,” the officer replied, checking his screens. “It looks to be a mobile fighter type of an unknown configuration. We don’t have any data on it.”

The captain stroked his chin, the worried look in his eyes easing slightly. It was just one suit. They could handle that.

“All hands to battle stations! Launch Lieutenant Cask and his Mahiroo unit!” He commanded. The resulting flurry of action and noise on the bridge consumed his officers’ replies as he stared at the oncoming glint.

In Ariel’s cockpit, information screens came to life as the sensors beeped warnings. The gun emplacements on the Swayze had activated and were turning ponderously toward her as the hangars burst open with their dangerous deliveries. The ki energy holding up the Jester grew in intensity, until it was rocketing forward faster than any thruster could manage. Ariel clenched her fists and grinned.

“Time to really put this suit to the test!” She yelled. “TOP ATTACK!”

The Jester transformed into its signature silhouette – Top Mode. As the oddly shaped mobile weapon rocketed nearer and nearer to the incoming enemies, it began to spin rapidly. Ariel put her will into the attack.

The grunt pilots of the Mahiroo were not taken by surprise entirely. The lieutenant had fought against this type of suit before, and knew the odd surprises it could have in store. He was ready for something like this.

“Scatter!” The unit leader yelled to his teammates. They did not have to be told twice. The three suits dove in different directions, their natural agility aiding their flight. But the mobile fighter was faster.

Ariel’s grin tightened as the strain of performing her ultimate attack wore on her. The ultrasonic spinning increased, and the Jester changed direction as quickly as a thought to intercept one of the suits diving for the surface. Her whirling fists caught up to the Mahiroo almost tore it to bits, slamming into it one hundred times a second at great force. The scraps of the suit rained down to the ground far below as the Jester spun to a stop and switched back into its bipedal form. Ariel panted, sweat running down her face.

“Bastard,” Lieutenant Cask growled over the comm, “Take him out!” The two Mahiroo flipped onto their backs and opened fire at the Jester, their beam guns spitting death. The fighter took three minor hits before dashing out of the way, slight pain jolting through Ariel’s body. The girl took it in stride, however, and roared into a long arc to intercept the second Mahiroo.

“Not so fast!” Cask yelled as the Swayze opened fire. Missiles and beam fire shook past the Jester as it wove desperately from side to side. It took Ariel a minute to get out from under the withering assault, a minute where she was struck several more times. While in the clear she took a moment to send her balloon bits to distract the Swayze’s guns, and took off after her two closer opponents.

“Oh no you don’t,” She muttered as the two Mahiroo fired off missiles in a last attempt to keep her away. The Jester wove skillfully between the incoming projectiles, drawing both Jester blades and flashing across the other two suits in quick succession.

“No…!” The lieutenant shouted as his last companion exploded into a symphony of color and sound. The grunt pilot gritted his teeth as his suit sparked from a massive slice across its chest. But the Mahiroo was still functional, and that was what mattered. “I’ll…I’ll kill you for that…”

The suit surged forward, thrusters spitting power as they propelled him to the rear of the Jester. Ariel barely had enough time to turn and grab the Mahiroo’s shield arm before it drove the other arm blade deep into her side. She screamed in pain as Cask’s grim visage appeared on her monitors.

“Heh…that’s for Charles and Delome. And this is a warning…stay away from the Swayze.”

The pilot ejected from his suit as the two locked combatants tumbled through the atmosphere. After he had floated far enough away, he hit the button on his flight suit and the two suits erupted in beautiful fireworks. Cask smiled as his hand rested on his parachute cord. Soon he’d be far away from this idiotic war.

Ariel was not allowed the peace of the wind rushing by her face. The explosion had torn up the Jester badly, internal structure intact but with both legs and an arm inoperable. Even though her body screamed in protest, she held the falling suit steady as parts of the Mahiroo rained down about her.

“Such determination…” She grunted, concentrating. From above, several shots rang out from the distant, wounded Swayze. The aim was off but the intention was clear, and Ariel was in no condition to continue this fight.

“I’ll leave you for another day,” She muttered as the Jester beat a hasty retreat into the horizon.

Its hull scorched black and peeling in places, the Swayze changed its course and began to limp to a nearby neutral spaceport. On the bridge, the captain poured out a bottle of whiskey for his fallen comrades.

Outcome: The Swayze remains
Jester: 4 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
It's a Very Big Gun
By: Perfect Zeong

--- Babel base, mountainous region ---

The doors to the base command center parted as the commander, looking somewhat disheveled, crossed the threshold into the chamber.

“Okay, what the hell is this business that you had to drag me out of bed for?” he demanded, trying to smooth out his frazzled hair.

“Commander, our sensors are showing two enemy mobile weapons approaching from the East,” a sensor operator said, saluting sharply. “They’re still quite a ways off.”

“…and this is important why?” the commander demanded, eyebrow twitching.

“Well, one of them appears to be a very large anti-fortress mobile armor,” the logistics officer took over. “Since they’re so brazenly approaching us, we felt it would be appropriate to fire the Noventa Cannon at them.”

“…and?” the commander beckoned, unsatisfied with the rationale.

“Well, we need your approval to do that, sir,” the logistics officer noted.

“Oh,” the commander remarked. “Right then, blast the sons of bitches. And someone change the damn command sequence so I don’t have to authorize this sort of thing!”

“Understood, commander! We’ll get right on that.”

“Have a status report for me in the morning,” the commander yawned, departing the room.

---

Ryu Hazuki could barely contain his excitement. His enormous Destroy Gundam was quite literally built for smashing well-fortified installations, and the Orb base perched atop the distant mountain was an insatiably-appetizing target.

“Hehehe, this is going to be fuuuuuun…” Ryu drawled, eagerly going through yet another checklist of the Destroy’s weapon and support systems.

“Patience, my friend,” Lance Mithaniel stated. “There’ll be plenty of excitement shortly. For now, keep your wits about you.”

“Aw, what’re they gonna do?” Ryu chuckled. “Send some mobile suits after us?” The enormous Destroy Gundam’s hover systems pulverized the trees it was passing over, leaving a noticeable path behind it even though it wasn’t actually touching the ground. From his vantage point atop the Destroy’s back, Lance’s Double X had an excellent position to survey the surrounding areas, in case their target had laid any traps for them in advance. A mysteriously brief flash issued from the far-off mountain, which Lance had posited was the direction of the base.

“Hey, Ryu, did you see that?” he asked.

“See what?” Ryu replied.

“There was a… oh fuck,” Lance realized. “MOVE!” Double X propelled itself off Destroy’s back, attempting to put as much horizontal distance between it and himself as possible. An enormous ball of white-yellow energy was rapidly approaching their position.

“Oh, big deal,” Ryu snorted. The Destroy’s positron reflector sprang to life, creating a blue-green prismatic wall in front of it. “Like that’s going to hurt Destroy!” As he finished that statement, the massive ball shattered into a thousand smaller projectiles, which began arcing in on his position from a variety of angles. “Crap.” The enormous variable mobile suit was consumed in a massive conflagration as the energy “sub-munitions” collided together, immolating a huge swath of turf. Even with the considerable distance he had achieved, Lance’s Double X was singed by the blast effect.

“Shit! Ryu, you still alive?!” he announced, turning around to survey the damage. Several of the sub-munitions continued on past their previous location, eventually exploding amid more turf flying into the air. As the massive blast subsided, the glow of the positron reflector began becoming visible.

“Ow…” Ryu said, holding his hands to his head. He thought he might have sustained an injury when one of the Destroy’s monitors exploded, but it seemed to simply be a side effect of the concussion his mobile suit had just endured. The blast finally dissipated entirely, revealing Destroy had weathered the massive blast – more or less. The main body of the enormous mobile weapon was mostly intact; some scratches here, dents and burns there, but still operational. However, both of the Aufprall Dreizehn double beam cannons, along with its multi-tube missile launchers, were charred and crumpled from a sub-munition projectile that landed directly on its back, behind the positron reflector. “Yeah, I think I’m good. Mostly good, anyway,” Ryu stated, assessing the damage. “Lost the big guns, though…”

“Alright, if you’re still up for it, we’ll keep on moving,” Lance affirmed.

“Oh yes,” Ryu replied. “Now they’re really in for it.”

Outcome: Attack continues
Double X: 1 days damage
Destroy: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
SUMO versus Ashtaron
By: Stargazer

In the deep, dark bowels of the earth, sparks dashed away the shadows. Two mobile suits clashed in the inky depths, chasms and ridges passing beneath them as their two bright lights danced through the natural cave system.

“You’ll never understand the fate of the warrior!” The SUMO leapt forward, thrusters flaring in the darkness beneath McKinley and Mars’ red surface. He could only see by the light of his glowing heat fan and the Ashtaron’s ignited beam saber. Simão Gomes violently shoved his controls to their maximum. The golden suit thrust with the fan, striking and pushing against the Ashtaron’s upheld saber, thrusters struggling valiantly. The sturdy purple suit steadied itself against the onslaught, its massive backpack unit flaring to give it more stability.

“Is your way the only way?!” The Ashtaron’s thrusters also ignited as the larger suit pushed the SUMO away, tossing it back with a flash of beam energy. Dietrich Butcher was quick to bring up his suit’s beam crossbow, releasing several powerful rounds into the air.

“You won’t be able to defeat me that easily,” Simão laughed as he snapped his IF-field barrier up to deflect the shots. He then rocketed up to meet his adversary.

Dietrich’s brow furrowed. I never get to use that thing.

The SUMO reached the Ashtaron before it could ready another attack. Beam saber and heat fan met once again, parried, bounced, and locked once more. Sparks flew as the fan began to melt.

“A true warrior tests his own strength when he fights against those who would meet him in true combat! You and your brother know nothing of the way of the soldier!” The legendary Gundam Champion jerked the controls as he yelled, spinning the SUMO into a flashing golden roundhouse kick. It struck the Ashtaron directly in the side, crumpling armor and sending it flying.

Dietrich and his suit slammed into the cave wall, bringing rock down upon the machine’s head. A look of dazed determination flitted across his face. The Ashtaron clambered out of the rubble to a waiting beam gun blast. It ripped off most of the left arm, shredding through armor and tearing the motors to pieces.

“Things aren’t always that simple old man!” Dietrich shouted back roughly as the purple suit fell upon the SUMO, more swiftly than Simão expected the bulkier suit to move. The atomic scissors were the first to reach the golden suit, crushing its shoulder and one arm as they grappled. The SUMO used its free arm to draw the heat fan once again and sliced, sparking, through one of the claws. The counterattack was too late. Dietrich yelled inarticulately as he drove his beam saber straight through the chest of the SUMO, piercing the angular surface quickly. Lashes of pink energy broke from the wound and traversed the rest of the suit as it shook.

The cockpit broke free of the bottom of the SUMO as it continued its electric dance. The ball-like ejection sphere fell into one of the ravines, disappearing into the darkness. Simão felt it land in the soft sand at the bottom of the cave.

The scene above him was suddenly lit up brighter than the midday sun as his suit exploded. The Ashtaron was blasted backwards, thrusters pushing it away from the explosion as quickly as possible.

For a brief moment, lands that existed in total darkness saw the light of day.

Outcome: Ashtaron wins, SUMO loses
Ashtaron: 3(2) days damage
SUMO: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
More Very Big Guns
By: Perfect Zeong

--- Babel base, mountainous region ---

“And they’re still coming, despite receiving a direct hit from the Noventa Cannon?” the base commander said with a rather incredulous tone, looking over the report prepared from the previous evening.

“That’s affirmative, commander,” a logistics officer reported. “We can confirm a direct hit on the large mobile armor, but it seems to have sustained limited damage due to a positron reflector system. The other mobile suit seems to have avoided the majority of the blast effect.”

“I see,” the commander nodded. “Well, they’re tenacious – I’ll give them that much. Nevertheless, I’m not handing this base over to a pair of hoodlums who think they’re ‘hot shit’ because they dug up a mobile weapon somewhere. We’ve been losing installations left and right, and that ends here!”

“Very well, commander. Your orders?” the logistics officer asked.

“Commence triangulating their position and approach vectors, then fire the Noventa Cannon again! That should mellow them out.” he said enthusiastically.

“Right away, sir!”

---

Battered and scarred, Ryu Hazuki and Lance Mithaniel continued their push towards the mountain citadel. Ryu’s Destroy Gundam had lost its missile launchers and the very large double beam cannons as a result of Babel’s Noventa Cannon earlier; Lance’s Double X’s armor had warped in several areas, but it was still mostly functional. The salvo from the base’s enormous cannon had injured their mobile weapons, but their determination to go on was only emboldened.

“Can you shoot them with your main gun yet?” Ryu asked, sorely feeling the loss of Destroy’s potent beam cannons.

“No, we need to get closer still,” Lance noted with an unfortunate edge. The base was now plainly visible as a cluster of amber lights near the summit of the mountain. “The satellite cannons will diffuse too much between here and the base to be of any use.”

“And here I thought you caused a lot of mayhem in that Alaska thing,” Ryu noted with a somewhat befuddled tone.

“For one thing, that base didn’t have such a ridiculous weapon!” Lance rebutted. “And besides that, there’s also- Oh dear God, not again!” Another flash of light, only much larger this time due to the closer proximity, issued from the direction of the base.

“You think that’s going to work again?!” Ryu demanded angrily. “Get behind me, now!” Destroy’s arms popped off its body and took flight, lining up parallel to the huge mobile suit. Each one activated a built-in positron reflector – combined with the main one on the mobile suit’s face-like backpack unit, they formed an even greater prismatic wall in front of it. Lance scrambled the Double X behind the giant mobile suit – he knew he wouldn’t have enough time to get clear of the blast radius this time, and hoped that the gargantuan weapon’s positron reflectors would offer enough of an aegis to keep him intact.

The enormous ball of energy again fragmented into hundreds of smaller “submunitions” – something of a blossoming flower of charged particles that quickly began coalescing around Ryu’s mobile weapon. Ryu checked his harness and braced himself for the concussive force that was about to come crashing down on his head – as a safety precaution, he deactivated the monitors in his cockpit.

The vast majority of the energy blasts impacted the blue-green wall protecting Destroy’s front – such was the force of the blast that even the four hundred ton monstrosity was pushed backwards, and its rocket-propelled hands were barely able to hold their positions. And yet, seemingly, it was weathering the behemoth assault. Lance worriedly noted a number of emergency indicators flashing various warnings about the rapidly rising external temperature, and his monitors flickered with static repeatedly; the great over-pressurization outside cracked the green microwave receiver on his Gundam’s chest.

“HAH! How do you like that?!” Ryu cackled maniacally. “Destroy is invincible!” A single submunition narrowly slipped past one of the arm-mounted positron reflectors just as its containment lattice collapsed, exploding in a very close proximity to the saucer-like main body and knocking Destroy’s left arm to the side. Two more projectiles passed through the gap, slamming into the side of the massive Gundam’s bulky frame. The Geschmeidig Panzer armor system absorbed most of the blast, but not quite enough. Both of the great hover engines on the Destroy’s left side sputtered and blew up from within, showering Lance’s mobile suit with bits and pieces of debris. The titanic weapon immediately began listing to the left and fell to the ground, its birdlike foot embedding at least twenty feet into the soil. The automatic damage control systems shut off the other engines to prevent the great mobile weapon from rolling over, and it came to rest against the dirt in a massive crash. Powering up his monitors again, Ryu howled in rage as the damage reports filtered in – the hover system was offline, six coaxial beam cannons had been rendered inoperative, and a substantial chunk of the left side of Destroy’s backpack had been completely pulverized.

“That damn cannon!” Lance exclaimed, peeking around the back of the grounded mobile suit. He could now plainly see small objects moving around the base – enemy mobile suits, he gathered.

“Screw the damn satellite cannon!!” Ryu bellowed. “They’re fucking with the wrong guy!!” Amid a fierce yell of rage, Ryu began reconfiguring the Destroy Gundam into its true form. The saucer-like body slid backwards and began inverting as its lower body rotated around, revealing a mobile suit’s forward-articulated knees and proper feet. The backpack assumed its proper position, revealing a decidedly angry-looking head, now towering over a hundred and thirty feet off the ground. Its arms re-attached, and the mobile suit was whole. “Welcome to PAIN!”

---

“C… confirmed, the target… mobile suit has withstood the Noventa Cannon again!” the logistics officer reported, not quite sure how to fully grasp the situation.

“Impossible! And that thing was a mobile suit all along…” the commander drearily noted.

“Sir! Orders?!” the communications officer begged.

“Okay, okay, so what if it is a mobile suit?!” the commander growled. “We’ve got plenty of our own! Send the Noventa Cannon’s firing solution to the Xamels and crush those miscreants!”

---

“Lieutenant, we’ve got the firing solution for the enemy mobile suit,” the Xamel’s gunner noted, the pilot nodding approvingly.

“Excellent,” he replied. “We’ll wear him down from multiple sides. Units 2 and 3, take up positions on the eastern side of the base. 4 and 5, to the west. We’ll remain here. BuCUE unit, begin saturating the area with missiles after we’ve opened fire.”

“Roger that, sir,” the BuCUE squad leader acknowledged; his unit of quadruped mobile weapons began scattering to take up defensive positions. The four other Xamel units fired up their thermonuclear jet engines and zipped to their assigned positions, artillery cannons at the ready. Below them, the humongous Destroy Gundam had begun ascending the mountain, its plodding footsteps carrying it a significant distance with each step.

“All units, open fire!”

---

Ryu had been hoping the sight of the massive Destroy Gundam lurching towards them would have proved a potent psychological weapon. Unfortunately, the sight of a cacophony of muzzle flashes alerted him otherwise. Ryu raised the Destroy’s right arm and activated its positron reflector in time to intercept a pair of high-velocity artillery shells. The heavy armor-penetrating warheads exploded with considerable force, knocking even the heavy mobile suit back a small amount before it resumed its march up the slope. Another pair of shells streaked in from an angle – one missed entirely, while the other struck the side of Destroy’s torso. The Trans-Phase Shift Armor held, but the impact nearly toppled the giant over.

“Stop screwing around!” Ryu hollered, taking aim with Destroy’s unoccupied hand. A quintet of beams shot out from its fingers, narrowly missing a distant Xamel. Ryu re-adjusted his aim and fired again, this time with the beam cannon mounted on the positron reflector generator. What would have been a direct hit went wide as yet another shell crashed into his opposite side, continuing to buffet the monster around. Ryu grew progressively more furious with the situation. He’d already lost his heavy weapons from the first strike of the Noventa Cannon, and his hovering capabilities from the second. Furthermore, the constant barrage was preventing him from getting a clean shot with the many weapons he had left!

“Ryu, try to suppress those artillery units on the western area!” Lance remarked, emerging from behind the massive Gundam to take two potshots with his beam rifle. “I’m going to try and fire the satellite cannons at them.”

“Alright, fine! Hurry up!” Ryu was none-too-pleased with being relegated to the role of a shield, but with the damage he’d already sustained, there was little he could do about it. Ryu began powering up the triple Super Scylla beam cannons in Destroy’s chest, leaving his positron reflector up until the last moment. The wide-angle beams would more than likely strike the artillery mobile suits even if his aim wasn’t perfect. Just as he had laid his crosshairs over them, the proximity detector began fervently beeping. “Oh, now what!?” Ryu demanded. His answer came in the form of a cloud of missiles that began sailing up on a ballistic trajectory from all over the base and surrounding areas; gifts from the BuCUE unit. Cursing loudly, Ryu arced the Destroy’s chest back and let the Scyllas’ massive burst fly into the air, annihilating the vast majority of the incoming warheads. A handful of survivors peppered around him, this time he was almost certain he’d have lost his balance were not for a quick save from the backpack-mounted thrusters.

“Just a little longer…” Lance muttered through gritted teeth, watching as the capacitor indicators continued filling at what seemed like a glacial speed.

---

“That guy’s not so tough at all, is he?” the Xamel gunner chuckled. Despite surviving two blasts from the Noventa Cannon, the massive mobile suit and its tiny companion were having great difficulty making headway up the mountain. The Xamel shuddered as its cannon fired again – another salvo from the Destroy’s myriad weapons went wide as the impact knocked it aside. “Can’t hit anything!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” the unit leader said, crossing his arms. “Just keep blasting it until it stops moving. We can gloat afterwards.” Suddenly, a BuCUE bolted past him and began heading down the mountain.

“Our enemy is a pair of chumps! Today’s the day I’m surpassing you, Lieutenant!” the BuCUE unit leader laughed, gleefully bounding down the incline. His subordinates quickly followed, igniting their head-mounted beam sabers as they went.

“IDIOT! What’re you doing?!” the Xamel leader demanded. “We still don’t know the full capability of those machines!!”

“If you want to sit around and wait, fine! We’ll get all the glory then! Right, men!?” the BuCUE leader jeered. A resounding “Hoo-ah!” was the response. The Xamel leader nearly threw his headset across the cockpit in frustration.

“All units, fire missiles immediately!” he ordered.

“Sir?” the gunner asked.

“Just do it!” the leader barked. “If we don’t support that moron, he’s going to wreck half our garrison!” The Xamels began lobbing their artillery rockets downrange.

---

“Shit! They’re moving in on us!” Ryu growled. If there’s one thing he knew about his mobile suit, it was certainly not the best in close combat, and ten double-bladed beam sabers were now headed his way.

“Almost done!” Lance quickly responded. The Double X’s heat dissipation vents snapped open as its capacitors neared a full charge. Lance slightly re-aligned both barrels to target the oncoming rush of BuCUEs. “Just another minute!”

“We don’t HAVE another minute!” Ryu opened fire with the four vulcan guns in his Gundam’s head, tearing up the dirt and rocks around the BuCUEs but doing little other than deterring the least brazen among them. They’d be upon him in moments. “Just shoot the damn thing now!”

“Alright, fine!” Lance yelled back. The capacitor gauge was only 90% full, but it would have to do. Lance was about to fire his devastating weapon when he noted yet another incoming missile strike – these much larger than the ones Ryu had dispatched earlier. “God, why now!?” he yelled. Globes of particles were already dancing around the Double X’s muzzles; if he didn’t fire quickly, the capacitors would overload, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near them if that happened. Making a quick hope for the best, Lance depressed his triggers as the missiles began landing around him. Two gigantic blue-white beams quickly converged into one just a short distance ahead of him, evaporating a trench of stones and soil as it shot up the mountain. Three of the quadruped mobile suits were caught within the wide barrage and simply ceased to be, while a forth was crushed by the massive force of displaced, ionized air. At the same time, an artillery rocket crashed directly into the Double X’s head, shattering it and part of the heat dissipation arrays on its back. Another struck directly behind its leg, caving in the rear of its knee and causing the Gundam to begin falling over backwards. The majority of the blast from the twin satellite cannons went well over the head of the Xamel directly in front of them, skimmed the edge of the gigantic Noventa Cannon, and sailed off into the atmosphere.

---

“Jesus Christ! Retreat!!” the BuCUE leader howled, abruptly grinding his mobile suit to a halt. Nearly half his unit had been wiped out by a single attack, and he wasn’t interested in sticking around for seconds. The massive Destroy’s chest-mounted cannons blared again, tearing the missile launcher off his mobile suit’s back – as if he needed another reason to call off the attack. Almost literally with tails between legs, the six remaining units started scrambling back up the mountain.

In his mobile suit, the Xamel leader had reflexively ducked as the great beam shot over his head. He quickly regained his composure.

“That incompetent moron, I said this would be a disaster…” he grumbled. “Xamel unit, return fire on that large mobile suit! Rick Dias unit, arm clay rounds and move to the front in case the target starts moving this way again! Go!”

---

Lance’s cockpit was a sea of alert messages, damage readouts and screens full of diagrams. The cracks in the microwave receiving unit had caused a backfire of reversed polarity current to surge through his mobile suit’s power systems. Combined with the damage to the heat dissipation fins, the firing of the twin satellite cannons had nearly destroyed his mobile suit – Lance himself was somewhat confused why he wasn’t dead.

“Ryu, Double X is done for! We gotta split,” he remarked, fiddling with his cockpit release. The surge had apparently muddled the computer systems as well – many of his warning messages were displaying garbled characters and statements that didn’t make sense, but he didn’t need them to explain that not only would his Gundam never move again, but just being near it was becoming progressively more hazardous by the second.

“But we’re so close!” Ryu exclaimed, deflecting yet another artillery shell with his positron reflector. The base was so close, he felt like he could almost touch it – the red paint of the new mobile suits appearing over the crest of the slope were plainly visible. Indeed, had the base’s heavy beam cannons not started targeting him as well, he was about to start barraging his entire arsenal at the defenders, shells and missiles be damned.

“We’ll come back later!” he returned, now resorting to kicking the hatch to try and get it open. Finally, whatever wasn’t working either did, or broke off entirely, and the armor plate popped open. In addition to the night sky above, Lance was rewarded with the sight of a tracer quickly dropping altitude directly towards him. So, this is it. I’m going to die, he thought. There was a massive explosion, bright light and a wash of heat, but Lance found himself still very much alive. Opening his eyes and removing his arms from their protective positions around his head, he saw one of Destroy’s arms hovering above him, positron reflector engaged.

“Grab on, idiot!” Ryu demanded. Such kindness was uncharacteristic of him, but he knew he would need that satellite cannon if he was going to crack Babel open next time. The arm lowered itself to within Lance’s reach, and he grabbed a hold of one of the conduction cables near its wrist. As he was pulled away, he finally began to notice the extent of the damage done to his mobile suit – missing head, slagged satellite cannons and heat dissipation fins, mangled legs, its body covered in scorches and pits. All things considered, he’d been exceptionally lucky.

Ryu began making an awkward, stiff-legged retreat as he slowly started backing down the mountain, continuing to deflect what he could with his other arm. Another thing Destroy was certainly not the best at was running away.

---

“Commander, enemy mobile weapon is withdrawing,” the logistics officer noted. The commander’s fist slammed against the armrest of his chair.

“Damn that stupid ass!” he exclaimed, referring to the BuCUE commander. “He wasted four high-mobility mobile suits, as if they were his to throw away!” He muttered an oath under his breath. “As soon as that thing is outside its minimum range, fire the Noventa Cannon at it!”

“Sir, that’s just not possible,” a communications officer reported. “That particle beam damaged the cannon’s coolant systems, and the crew is reporting massive energy fluctuations throughout its power supplies. It will explode if they so much as turn it!” Shocked, the commander put a hand to his temple.

“Good God, I’m going to hear it from the higher ups for this…” he said, groaning heavily.

Outcome: Babel remains
Double X: Upgrading
Destroy: 4 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Beta Azieru versus Ebirhu-S
By: Akatsuki

The drone of the Gundanium drill was nearly deafening, even in the thick atmosphere of Venus. The crew workers at the MM II mining facility detested such conditions, despite their environmental suits. The deafening roar of the entire operation happened to mask from their ears the battle that was about to ensue.

Far above the mining facility, Beta Azieru made grand, sweeping passes through thick clouds. The giant mobile armor lazily turned time and time again, as if waiting for a signal. Inside the tremendous weapon, pilot Chris Butler held a cocky grin. His sunglasses were off; he would not need them in such a place. After all, the visor of his normal suit was enough to tint his vision.

His communication line crackled, "Mr. Butler, this is Scarth Maheart. Do you copy?"

Chris turned on his microphone. "I read you loud and clear. Think you've kept me waiting long enough?" there was no small amount of impatience in his voice.

"My apologies, but I had to find my normal suit." Scarth had actually been doing no such thing. The camera pod on his Ebirhu-S's shoulder was nowhere to be seen. A light smirk played across his face. The joke's on you, my impatient little victim. "Shall we begin?"

Chris Butler wasted no time in activating his funnels. The monstrous Newtype weapons sprang to life, darting around the Beta Azieru despite their enormous size. "I'm ready when you are. On the count of three?"

"One."

"Two."

Beta Azieru shot forward through the thick atmosphere. The eleven funnels filed in formation around their gigantic mother vessel as it hunted for its prey.

"Three?" asked Scarth. A puzzled expression was on his face, but he shrugged it off. Now was the time for his suit's abilities to shine. While hiding in a small ravine on Venus’s surface, the planet’s soupy atmosphere provided the perfect cover from his high-speed foe. Well, he's not the only one with good speed... Scarth’s camera pod was easily tracking the behemoth on its blazing-fast descent, having already gotten a good sensor silhouette from Beta Azieru's first few passes before the duel. Ebirhu-S's computers were digesting the data from the pod. Soon, a targeting solution was reached. Scarth knew this was more or less a one-shot deal. Without a moment's hesitation, he blasted up and out of the ravine at full speed on an intercept course for Beta Azieru.

Chris Butler was very impatient with his opponent, to say the least. The coward had the gall to arrange this duel with me, and now he hides! "Where are you, Scarth?!?" Suddenly, a pressure from the left. He snap-rolled right, saving the Beta Azieru from immediate damage.

Ebirhu-S's beam saber sizzled by its target’s lower bulk. The pink plasma tube merely slashed through empty skies. However, whether through skill or just plain dumb luck, the small Ebirhu-S managed to land a foot on a funnel. Due to the surprise attack, the weapons were still in tight formation around the Beta Azieru. Capitalizing on the advantage, Scarth used his heavy machine guns to pepper two other funnels with rounds. The massive bogies exploded, splaying some shrapnel into the side of their command unit.

Chris was enraged. This tiny, insignificant insect was toying around with his wondrous weapons like they were surf boards. He swiftly regained his psychic hold on the funnels and accelerated, ripping the rug out from under Ebirhu-S’s feet. In an instant, the mobile suit lost balance, and Scarth fell back into the noxious atmosphere, plummeting like a rock. Not fast enough to outrace Azieru, though. A wake of air washed over Ebirhu-S as its foe darted lower than its position.

“Hell yeah,” Chris swore as he fired a few funnels. Mega arms detached, and he performed a Split-S, barrel-rolling until Beta Azieru was upside down, then pointed the mobile armor at the surface. Chris continued pulling up until he was pointed the opposite direction he was originally going, bringing him right below where he presumed the Ebirhu-S was now falling. Using his senses, he aimed for the sky, and then fired his mega arms' main weapons alongside the remaining funnels. The beam fire lit up the sky like an angry god's wrath.

For Scarth, it was like a really bad rollercoaster. He saw a lightshow explode by his suit. Two more beams then impacted on Ebirhu-S's left leg, destroying it at the knee. Quickly studying data flowing in from the pod, he saw Beta Azieru was right below. The beam fire confirmed this, as a hail of death ascended past his altitude. Ebirhu-S lost its right hand and some more of its left leg. It continued to fall, plunging through clouds—

Then suddenly, impact. Ebirhu-S landed on the main body of Beta Azieru. Despite his Newtype prescience, Chris was nearly as amazed as Maheart.

Scarth darted to ready his shot lancer and pointed it at the head of the mobile armor. "Care to give up?"

Chris scowled. He hated giving up. "Very well. I'll set us down, but you owe me for repairs!"

Scarth just laughed as the two weapons settled onto the surface of Venus. As if they were heralds sent from Heaven, the mobile suit and armor startled the miners out of their daily routine. Many of them recognized Beta Azieru and sighed. Again…?

Outcome: Ebirhu-S wins, Beta Azieru loses.
Ebirhu-S: 3(2) days damage
Beta Azieru: 2(1) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Astray Out Frame ambushes Nu
By: Perfect Zeong

Carl Mitchum was a man on a mission. Probably the most awkward and unconventional mission one could imagine for a man with a Gundam to call his own, but one of equal, if not greater, importance as far as he was concerned. His Astray Out Frame, high-resolution multi-lens camera in hand, bounded through the jungle in search of his quarry – the Nu Gundam and Makoto Nagano. Carl was convinced, indeed, completely certain, that it was to that particular mobile suit that would satiate his intense desire for the perfect “shot” of weapon-on-weapon combat he so desperately needed. It was he that tracked Feyd Aurion’s Tallgeese II from Alaska all the way to South America, he that fired a shot from his beam rifle at the Nu Gundam, prompting a pursuit, and he that led the two right into each other. The black four-legged “thing” he’d spotted earlier was proving to be something of an X-factor, but combat was combat, and if he couldn’t deal with such variables, What kind of a journalist am I? he thought.

A dobergun shell crashed through the canopy not far from him, throwing up a cascade of dirt. Carl turned his camera upwards, collecting a three-quarters angle shot of the Tallgeese II neatly dodging a retaliatory blast from the Nu Gundam’s beam rifle. A second snapshot got the Nu’s back and fin funnel arrays, but it simply wasn’t what Carl wanted. He needed more, he needed better, and most importantly, he needed something to blow up.

---

“Meddler!” Makoto Nagano growled, firing a pair of missiles off from his shield. “It wasn’t enough that you had to ruin my fun in Alaska, now you’re after me again here!”

Feyd Aurion simply scoffed in response, flipping the Tallgeese II into a nose-dive and quickly pulling up before hitting the trees, causing the missiles to fly into the ground. He rolled over onto his back and began unloading the dobergun’s magazine, landing a direct hit into the Nu Gundam’s foot as he sailed under it.

“You should stay on the ground,” Feyd said in a rare public remark, watching with satisfaction as the Gundam began descending into the foliage again. “It suits you.”

“Stop buzzing around like a mosquito and I’ll show you something about… suiting!” Makoto scrambled for a witty retort as he crashed through the canopy, loosing another shot from his beam rifle. He was absolutely itching to use his funnels again, but couldn’t risk losing the ability to project his fin funnel barrier incase he needed it to defend himself against another sneak attack from the nowhere-to-be-seen Gaia Gundam. Once again, the Astray Out Frame evaded his eye – exactly as Carl wanted.

Feyd grunted; he was growing weary of dealing with unseen opponents taking cover beneath forests while he made himself a target by remaining airborne. Now well secluded, Makoto discharged his shield-mounted beam cannon, grazing the edge of the Tallgeese’s left shoulder. Feyd quickly responded with another dobergun shell, striking the ground just in front of Makoto’s mobile suit and almost tipping it over.

“I beat you last time, what makes you think I can’t do it again?!” Makoto proclaimed, opening fire with his vulcan guns. Feyd boosted ahead and dropped altitude once more, a stream of tracers quickly following up and narrowly missing his mobile suit’s legs. Makoto switched back to his beam rifle, but just as he went to fire, a psycoframe-amplified Newtype tingle suggested he should duck. As he did, a beam cutter went directly over his head and through the trees to his side – the quadruped Gaia Gundam crashed to its feet and quickly performed an about-face to face him.

“Oh ho, and what makes you think you can just take a potshot at me and not deal with the consequences?” Xiss Nikolov said with a somewhat dispassionate tone. The Gaia’s shoulder-mounted beam cannons leveled at the Nu Gundam.

“I’m sorry about that, but this cretin takes priority,” Makoto quickly replied, launching his fin funnels. Xiss was faster, but her two beams passed on either side of the Nu Gundam’s waist by the slimmest of margins – her follow-up beam rifle shot spanged off the now-assembled fin funnel barrier.

“I see!” Xiss noted. “Well, I’ll blast you out of there if that’s what it takes.” Xiss’ Gaia Gundam reconfigured into its upright mobile suit form, brandishing a beam saber in each hand. “I wonder how much abuse that barrier of yours can take?” Both blades crashed down onto it, throwing up a cascade of sparks from escaping plasma.

“More than you can give, I’ll wager,” Makoto grinned, reaching for a beam saber of his own.

Above them, Feyd Aurion killed his forward velocity and began hovering, debating whether or not he too should test the strength of the Nu’s barrier, or blast the Gaia Gundam, whose back was turned to him, right into it. Both seemed like good ideas.

---

“Yes, yes, yes! Excellent!” Carl exclaimed, taking image after image of the mobile suits locked into hand-to-hand combat. “Hurry up, Nu Gundam! Fight back! Break out of that defensive position and start pushing that black thing off!” Carl dropped the Astray to its knees to get a lower angle shot, and continued to fill the camera’s solid-state memory modules with high-resolution renders.

---

“Well come on, I’m going to get in there eventually,” Xiss grinned, leaning into the attack. “Come out here and show me what you’ve got it!”

Makoto saw that he had been a bit presumptuous in making his claim – slowly but surely, Xiss’ beam sabers were displacing the I-field holding the plasma in place. Sooner rather than later, the I-field would distend enough for the plasma within to escape, collapsing the barrier and driving the beam sabers into his torso. Makoto planned on dropping it sooner than that, and on his own terms.

“Okay, but only because you asked so nicely,” Makoto replied, disbanding the barrier and immediately igniting his large beam saber. The emerging blade severed one of Gaia’s hands, taking the beam saber with it. The other cleaved through his mobile suit’s shoulder, fortunately missing the arm joint within.

“Damn…” Xiss scowled, looking more disappointed than angry. Not only was she down a beam saber, but the damage would preclude returning to quadruped mode. Xiss moved in for another attack, but was parried by Makoto’s own weapon.

“Was that enough of a show, or shall we do an encore?” Makoto posited cheerfully, using his mobile suit’s substantially larger size to start overpowering the Gaia.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself!” Xiss shot back, leveling both shoulder-mounted beam cannons directly at the Nu’s upper body. Makoto responded with his fin funnels, and both fired at once. Makoto’s attack destroyed both cannons (and substantial areas of the Gaia’s shoulders), while Xiss’ salvo struck true, penetrating the Nu’s upper torso just below the apex of its collarbone region, the beams exiting out its back. “Gotcha!”

Makoto was horrified for a moment, but amazingly, both attacks had passed clean through his mobile suit without striking the reactor, or even any critical equipment. More importantly, it left him an opening. “Not quite, I’m afraid,” Makoto countered, blasting the Gaia’s other hand with a fin funnel, effectively disarming it, much to her chagrin.

---

“Beautiful! Don’t stop now!” Carl cheered, turning his camera sideways for a tall profile image. His quick camerawork had gotten excellent stills of the Gaia’s beams blasting through the Nu’s back, and then its miraculous disarming of the assailant. “Nu Gundam, how photogenic you are! Now start smashing that ugly thing! Trash it!”

---

Feyd cleared his throat rather audibly, obviously not interested in waiting around any further.

“I’ll play with you later,” Makoto stated, literally shoving the weaponless Gaia out of his way. “Stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Hey! Don’t marginalize me like that!” Xiss protested.

“What are you going to do, kick me?” Makoto laughed. Grumbling, Xiss resigned herself from combat and chose not to observe the conclusion of the battle. “Now then, as for you…” he said, pointing a finger at the Tallgeese II. Or, at least, where it had been a moment ago. “What the…!”

Slow…Feyd thought as he checked the Tallgeese II’s shoulder into the Nu Gundam’s back, bowling the mobile suit over. Makoto was shocked at how easily Feyd had gotten behind him, but not enough to recover quickly and avoid falling entirely.

“Want to play ugly, eh? Alright, let’s do it!” Makoto replied, opening fire with his fin funnels. Feyd swiftly darted above and around their attack, continuing to bombard Makoto with his dobergun. One funnel shot tore into the dobergun’s magazine, blowing it apart along with the weapon’s receiver. Feyd snorted at the inconvenience and flung the now-useless weapon at Makoto, who batted the thing out of the way with his shield. Feyd then removed both beam sabers from his own shield and threw that as well, this time catching Makoto completely off-guard as the shield lodged into the already damaged shoulder joint in the Nu Gundam’s left arm.

“This bores me,” Feyd remarked in a rather unconcerned voice. Knocking a fin funnel out of his face, Feyd charged the Nu Gundam at full throttle, both beam sabers raised behind his back for a downward strike.

Aw, shit! Makoto thought, realizing his left arm was completely inoperative, and his fin funnels wouldn’t be able to shoot at Feyd without risking hitting him in the process. Gambling on his single large beam saber beating Feyd’s two, he held it behind him and swung horizontally. The Tallgeese II’s beam sabers cleaved through the Nu’s shoulders and thighs, completely truncating it. Simultaneously, Nu’s weapon cleaved through the Tallgeese’s waist, taking its arms off at the elbows.

---

Carl was awed.

“That’s it!! That’s the shot!!” he wildly hollered, snapping as many stills as he could of the moment to forever immortalize it for his publications. Both mobile suits seemed to fly apart at the seams, arms, legs, boosters and beam sabers flying in every direction. The two torsos clattered to a halt some meters away, carried on by the Tallgeese’s momentum. The last seconds of both mobile suits were captured in crystal clear in the unwavering memory modules of Carl’s camera. “Let’s see what ‘No-Name’ thinks of this!”

---

“Damn!” Makoto exclaimed. The Nu Gundam quickly began losing power – he saw the fin funnels drop out of the air and embed themselves into the ground like giant double-pronged lawn darts before his panoramic cockpit went dead.

The Council will not be pleased…Feyd thought somewhat remorsefully. Nevertheless, he could focus on it later. Feyd struck a few numbers onto a keypad; a confirmation dialogue appeared, and he confirmed it. At that, he ejected his cockpit hatch and clambered out.

“Well, that’s the breaks, I guess…” Makoto said with a sigh, proceeding outside as well. As he hit the ground, he discovered Feyd had beaten him to it. More importantly, Feyd had a sidearm leveled at him. “…well, hello there. How are you on this fine day?”

“I will not forget this,” Feyd remarked rather coldly. He took several steps backwards until he was approaching the edge of the Tallgeese’s dismembered form, keeping the handgun trained on Makoto the entire time, then abruptly broke into a sprint as he disappeared around the mobile suit’s back.

“Huh. What a charmer,” Makoto frowned. Looking around, Xiss’ Gaia was nowhere to be seen; evidently she had departed after her mobile suit had been rendered unarmed. What he did spot, though, was a curious red and white Gundam with an even more curious-looking weapon in its hands, strolling rather casually towards him.

“Ahh, excuse me!” the pilot declared on its external audio system. “Hiya, Carl Mitchum here. I was wondering if you’d had any words to go in my periodical about what just happened here?”

“….what…?” Makoto said, half aghast and half bewildered. “Periodical???”

“Right! It’s an Annapolis publication, so it’s got a high-quality binding and… say, do you hear something beeping?” Carl asked.

Beeping? Makoto thought. Suddenly, he was struck with a terrible thought, and he turned to look up into the Tallgeese’s cockpit through its open hatch. He couldn’t see anything specific, nor could he hear anything beeping – he presumed this mysterious “Carl” had picked it up with the Gundam’s superior audio amplification equipment – but he could very well see the reflected glow a red light flashing progressively more quickly, and that was more than enough evidence for him.

“Uh, not right now, maybe later, okay!? I… have an appointment!” Makoto quickly babbled. “Have a nice one!” he said, immediately breaking into a dash under the Astray Out Frame’s legs.

“Aw, don’t do that! A commentary would be a great addendum to the illustrations!” Carl exclaimed; Makoto was already into the tree line. “Come on, a photojournalist isn’t only about taking photos! There’s a journalism part and-”

The Astray Out Frame was immediately blown off its feet as the Tallgeese II’s remains exploded in an enormous blast. The remains of the Nu were caught within it and provided an even bigger detonation, showering debris for hundreds of yards around.

“Ouch…” Carl moaned, rubbing his head. Removing the Astray’s head from the ground and checking the camera to ensure it was undamaged, he turned around to see a miniature mushroom cloud, perhaps only two or three mobile suits tall, rising up from the burning remnants of the two former combatants. “Well… maybe it will make a good conclusion to the article…” Carl conceded, snapping one last image.

Outcome: Astray Out Frame wins, Gaia loses, Tallgeese II and Nu draw
Astray Out Frame: 1 days damage
Gaia: 2 days damage
Tallgeese II: Upgrading
Nu: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Many Bothans Died to Bring Us This Event
By: Victory 2

At the Lake Victoria base, construction crews bustled about frantically, attempting to fix a damaged cannon. The semi-completed work on the WaDom head showed a skeletal frame of girders and supports. The repairs were necessary after the attack earlier in the week that had taken out much of the base’s defenses. The barrel was intact, but most of the structure was in shambles. The base personnel worked hard, driven by their commanding officer, to be ready in case another attack was to come. How right he was.

Deep within the now-ruined forest, Mthunzi Ying prepared herself for what could be another descent into madness. Her Wing ZERO stood in a clearing made by the massive fires of several days ago. Deer milled about, and one youth seemed particularly lost. They scattered, however, as the Gundam’s green eyes flashed, and the suit came online. Mthunzi let the sounds of her cockpit wash over her, drowning out the memories as she lifted off.

The speedy Wing ZERO quickly covered the distance between its position and the base. As she neared her target, Mthunzi felt the familiar tugs of the ZERO system pull at her consciousness. Her pupils dilated, and her unfocussed eyes stared straight ahead. Within her mind, a battle for control began, even as her hands seemed to move of their own accord. Her memories totally on the back burner, Mthunzi found herself moving in an arc, heading straight for the base in front of a massive construction site. Her eyes glowed, a subdued yellow, as she fell totally into the grip of the system.

The muzzle of the exposed cannon pointed straight at her suit, and she flew towards it with a destructive purpose in mind. Several explosions surrounded the Wing ZERO, but the missile attacks from the remaining base defenses were little more than inconveniences. The ZERO was too fast, and the missiles too weak, to truly endanger the unit at all. The eyes of the winged suit shone bright green, and it halted within range to loose its twin beam rifle.

Within the base itself, Lake Victoria’s commander wandered through the control room, barking out orders to his subordinates. Noticing the Wing ZERO’s chosen angle of attack, he grinned maniacally. “You think you are safe there? Foolish. Now, witness the power of this fully armed and operational WaDom head! Fire at will, Commander!” He paused for a moment, before remembering that he was the commander. Turning, he pressed a button on a nearby console.

Within the ZERO, Mthunzi’s eyes were glazed over, as she once more struggled to manage her thoughts. Battered by the volume of information, her mind struggled to hold its control. Suddenly, her eyes flashed a brighter golden color, as she grasped at sanity. Gripping her joystick, she yanked upwards, hard. The ZERO’s thrusters flared, and the signature wings spread open as the suit flashed upwards. The cannon’s nozzle brightened, then a streak of energy blasted out at her previous position, passing below her suit and obliterating a path through the forest.

“I… The system told me what was coming, and I got out of the way. I handled that?” Her reverie was broken, as a handful of missiles impacted against her suit. The hardy Gundanium armor withstood most of the blasts, but she was nevertheless rocked about slightly from the explosions. Once more her eyes flashed golden, and she goosed her thrusters briefly to dodge out of the way of another missile attack. A quick burst of machinecannon fire took care of yet another salvo, and Mthunzi knew what she had to do. Splitting her twin beam rifle into two, she held each half in one hand.

Within the base, the staff was running about in an attempt to escape the certain devastation that was to come. The commander strode about, cuffing some that attempted to abandon their posts while he screamed at others. “Evacuate? In our moment of triumph?!” Wild-eyed, he moved to his previous position and again depressed the firing mechanism for the cannon. This was a meaningless gesture, as the cannon head could not be moved and the Wing ZERO was no longer in its firing path. It would prove even more problematic, though.

Briefly taking aim, Mthunzi pulled the trigger and sent a lance of power towards each of the two WaDom heads, on the opposite sides of the base. The two beam rifles spat fire, and the streaking energy slammed into both cannons. The partially-repaired head, however, had been storing up energy and about to attack. With the blow from the rifle shot, the energy was instead dispersed into the surroundings – namely, it detonated in stunning fashion, taking out nearly half of what remained of the Lake Victoria base. The majority of the structure was enveloped in a massive gout of flame, sparing almost nothing. The command center was one of the first sections to be immolated, and the commander burnt even as his finger still depressed the firing key.

Satisfied with her work, Mthunzi turned to go, pondering her greater success with the ZERO system. “Maybe this partnership could really work out well for us both,” she mused. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she could almost hear a tone in response from the console – though she decided it must have been her imagination. Shrugging, she jetted off, while the waters of Lake Victoria were stained bright orange, a reflection of the blaze of the destroyed base.

Outcome: Lake Victoria destroyed
Wing ZERO: 1 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Operation Stardust
By: Perfect Zeong

“Six kilometers to go…” Erebus Gethen noted on his digital display. Ahead of him, a space colony rotated serenely on its axis, looking as innocuous as possible. It was the mobile suit force stationed there that worried him. His Blitz Gundam was completely invisible, both to the naked eye and radar, thanks to its Mirage Colloid stealth system. However, it also precluded the use of his Phase Shift Armor as well as his normal thrusters, lest the heat given off alert forward-looking infrared devices on the colony’s sensor suites. To achieve maximum speed, Erebus had simply pointed himself at the colony from a great distance away, briefly fired his engines at full burn, and began coasting. He hoped his aim was as good as he thought it was.

Two mobile suits appeared on his sensors – they weren’t far off, and were heading in his direction.

“Did they spot me?” he asked aloud, fingers sitting ever so lightly on his triggers. He could soon make out a pair of thruster trails, and it wasn’t long before the bogeys were within visual identification range. Space Leos, Erebus thought. He knew the colony held a small unit of high-performance mobile suits as well as a number of mobile armors, but its largest element was the humble Leo. Suddenly, a proximity alert began buzzing. Erebus activated one monitor to explain the situation, and discovered that one of the Leos was on a collision course with him! They didn’t know he was there, but it certainly would make little difference if they were about to have a collision out of dumb luck. Erebus raised the Blitz’s weapon-laden shield at the pair and switched fire control to the dart launching system. The last thing he wanted was a sudden burst of beam fire, or exploding mobile suit reactors, drawing attention to this area. Erebus depressed his trigger, and hoped that the colony’s command center would assume they had been hit by a stray asteroid or something of that nature.

---

“Sir, the IFF signal for the fourth patrol unit just disappeared,” Stardust’s security officer noted. His monitor, which had been displaying the patrols flying around the colony’s defense perimeter, now showed two sets of question marks where the Space Leos’ trackers had been moments earlier.

“Disappeared?” the commander asked, somewhat perplexed.

“Yes sir. They simply stopped transmitting,” the officer replied.

“Scan for any traces of radioactivity or residual background effects,” the commander ordered. “If something happened out there, I want to know about it!”

“Nothing of that sort, commander,” the officer reported. “Radar still shows the patrol as holding position where its IFF signal was cut off. No other anomalies detected.”

“No response from the patrol leader?” the commander inquired.

“No sir,” the communications officer said. “They’ve gone completely silent.”

“I don’t like this,” the commander stated flatly, furrowing his brow. “Dispatch the Moebius unit and a recovery shuttle to that area at once, and recall all patrol units to the colony perimeter. Something’s afoot, and I hate surprises.”

---

Erebus’ fears were rapidly materializing. Either his aim had been off, or the recoil from the lancer darts had thrown him off course. Regardless, at his current trajectory, he was going to miss the end of the colony if he didn’t alter the angle of attack.

Okay, two options… fire the last dart and use the recoil to push my way over, or use the thrusters and hope nobody’s watching… he thought, weighing the pros and cons of both options. He decided he would be better served by taking a gamble on his thrusters, and ever so slightly tapped the rockets to nudge him back on course. A brief flare of blue projected from the apogee motors on his left side, and then quickly disappeared. He was now back on course to land near the edge of the colony’s main dock.

---

“Hey, did you see that?” a Leo pilot asked of his wingman.

“See what?” the other replied.

“Eleven o’clock low, I could’ve sworn I saw something,” the first stated.

“I think you’re imagining things again…” the second muttered.

“Well hold on a minute! One patrol just mysteriously stopped responding, and the commander said we should step up our observations and report anything suspicious,” the first recited the new orders they’d received a few minutes prior. “That seemed pretty damn suspicious to me.”

“Ugh, fine,” the second conceded. “If it’ll get you to shut up, we’ll go investigate.” He began dialing in to radio the command center of the suspicious activity and their investigation.

---

Shit…Erebus cursed. A second pair of Leos was now approaching his relative position. At least someone had seen his brief course adjustment. Can’t let those guys report in! Erebus thought, preparing to fire his last lancer dart. He’d have to finish off the other Leo with the beam saber – using the beam rifle would completely give away his location and bearing. At least this would offer him a modicum of surprise.

---

“Commander! We just lost the IFF from the sixth patrol unit as well!” the security officer announced.

“Quit babbling and get me a visual!” he demanded, leaning forward in anticipation. An external security camera on the colony wall near where the patrol had just been projected its feed onto a large monitor dominating the command center’s visual displays. One Space Leo had what looked like a harpoon fired through its chest and was limply drifting off into space. The other was in the process of being split in half with a beam saber that was apparently being generated by nothing. The Leo’s beam rifle fired off two shots into the air before it exploded; the blast revealed the vague, distorted outline of another mobile suit, the apparent owner of the saber in question.

“I knew it!” the commander exclaimed. “A stealth unit! All patrols, converge on that location and begin saturation fire! Launch the Crouda unit and recall the Moebius unit immediately! Move it!”

“On it, commander!”

---

Mere seconds had passed since Erebus had slain the second Leo patrol, but already the colony’s defenses were retaliating. Several missiles appeared from near the main dock while a fusillade of machine gun shells and the occasional beam rifle blast were issuing from another group of Leos coming down the side of the colony. Without his Phase Shift Armor, even a stray shell could be his demise, and Erebus was not too keen on the idea of going down to a Leo.

“Alright then, I guess this is close enough,” he remarked, powering off the Mirage Colloid stealth system and activating the PSA. The Blitz’s red-on-black frame was now finally visible to the defenders of Stardust. “Okay, you’ve found me, now do something about it!” Erebus jammed his throttle to full and began charging the Leos he presumed were hiding in the space dock. Erebus quickly closed the distance, avoiding another missile and blocking a fourth with his shield. Blitz was now over the edge of the colony’s length, offering him cover from the mob approaching from the other end of the cylinder. The two Leos guarding the dock ditched their bazookas and drew beam sabers, preparing to go into hand-to-hand combat. Erebus didn’t give one the chance, holing it with his integrated beam rifle. The other was actually brazen enough to start closing the distance between him and itself, something Erebus did not anticipate.

“More spunk than the others…” Erebus noted, snapping his mobile suit perpendicular to the Leo’s orientation and narrowly slipping under its slash. I guess I’ll let you live, he thought, firing his Gleipnir anchor at the Leo’s back. The claw grabbed hold and held fast, allowing Erebus to literally reel the Leo into combat range, where he delivered his beam saber into the back of the luckless grunt’s head. Erebus punted the disabled mobile suit into the ceiling of the dock, causing it to bounce off and fly into space.

“Now then, let’s see what’s inside…” he said smugly, boosting into the dock’s interior.

---

“Enemy stealth mobile suit has breached the colony’s defense perimeter!” the logistics officer yelled, to the further infuriation of the commander.

“They think they’re going to humiliate me with just one mobile suit, do they?!” he demanded of the situation. “Have the Crouda unit cut him off before he gets into the cylinder itself! And why isn’t the Moebius unit back yet!?”

---

Emerging from the center of the dock, Erebus was still within the zero-gravity pillar at the center of the colony. The cylinder stretched out before him, alternating strips of green parks and cities and water-covered mirrors running off into the hazy distance.

“Guess the command center’s at the other end…” Erebus frowned. “Oh well, I suppose we’ll take the scenic route then.” Blitz boosted out of the dock and towards the ground below. However, he’d barely gotten a few hundred feet when he noticed a quintet of thruster trails quickly approaching him. “Oh, more of you, eh?” he quirked an eyebrow, leveling his integrated beam rifle at the oncoming units. At that, two beams lanced out from the new bogeys and disintegrated his shield, nearly taking Blitz’s right arm with it. Erebus was understandably shocked. It was then that he noticed the white, bulky mobile suits, each baring a pair of beam rifles, were evidently a cut above the rest, both in equipment and skill. “Uh oh…”

---

“End of the line, my friend,” the Crouda unit leader smirked, zeroing in on the now almost-unarmed Blitz. “Alright, men, spread out and tear him apart!” The four other Croudas abruptly split off, moving to box in the intruder. Ten beam rifles discharged simultaneously, taking off one of its arms and leaving a number of trenches and divots from glancing hits in its body.

“What a chump,” one of the other pilots said. “Boss, how about we give him the beam cutters?” He had to admit, it did sound like a fun way to end the infiltration.

“Alright, sounds good to me,” the leader said. “Carve ‘em up!”

---

Erebus was somewhat disappointed with how quickly things had turned against him. The Blitz’s shield contained almost all of its weapons, and the numerous deflecting shots that had struck his body had seriously compromised the ability of the Phase Shift Armor to keep him alive. Furthermore, given the current state of Blitz’s energy supply, he would just barely have enough to keep the Mirage Colloid up for his escape.

“Another time, then!” he said, leaving it at that and making a break for the interior entrance to the space dock amid more angry beam rifle fire from the five heavy hitters. Just as he was about to reach the dock, the first of what he presumed to be numerous Leos emerged from the threshold, signaling to its compatriots that the target was in sight. “Get out of my way!” Erebus exclaimed, launching the anchor at it. The Leo was just about to let off a round from its dobergun when the anchor crashed into its head; Erebus yanked it towards him then disengaged the anchor, allowing the luckless peon to go sailing past him and into one of the pursuing Crouda’s stomach. Both mobile suits dropped out of the air, a tangle of limbs and guns temporarily unable to separate themselves. Blitz zipped over the edge of the space dock’s interior entrance, nearly colliding with another Leo. Nearly the full contingent of purple mobile suits had come out to meet him, or so it seemed. Erebus had surprised the group, but didn’t have time to capitalize on it – if he so much as paused to dispatch even one of them, the Croudas and their vicious-looking beam cutters would be upon him. Escape in sight, Erebus flipped on his Mirage Colloid stealth system and shot out of the space dock.

---

“Cease pursuit here,” the Crouda unit leader said nonchalantly, holding up a hand.

“Sir! He’s getting away!” one of the Crouda pilots wailed.

“I’ll rip him apart!” another, the victim of the improvised Leo attack, proclaimed from somewhere down the slope.

“That was an order. Deal with it,” the leader said bluntly. “Now shut up for a minute!” Focusing his mind as clearly as possible, the leader could once again feel the faint pressure of the escaping Blitz’s pilot. Invisible to the eye, and invisible to sensors, but with heavy concentration, not invisible to the mind. “There!” he exclaimed, firing off a single shot. He was rewarded with an explosion.

---

“Son of a…” Erebus exclaimed. Apparently the luckiest shot in the world, the Blitz was now missing both arms and a leg! He wasn’t sure if the shot was meant to kill him and was just off, or if it was an intentionally nonfatal attack – a castigation for his property damage to the base’s garrison. Well… no good focusing on that, I guess. Erebus conceded. This Gundam could use more weapons…

Outcome: Stardust remains
Blitz: 4(2) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Penelope versus Sisquiede
By: Maxter

“It is Heaven. It is Hell. The Duality of this world never ceases to amaze. One moment burning at Apollo’s whim, and the next, frozen like -”

“Y’could hurry up with that fine little soliloquy and get to the point,” Deux Ysverda was considered many things, though patient was never quite at the top of the list. Not that he could be necessarily blamed in this, the event horizon before the path of Sol. Here men lived and died by the saber and rifle, and anything less than concentrated effort would mean death. There were ashes of those who doubted. There were even more frozen corpses, of metal and men that played the light like macabre satellites.

Perhaps Monique Benoit had a point with her monologue. But the men didn’t need to hear that – What they needed was the battle. Excalibur loomed over the horizon, breaking the interminable rays of Sol from time to time, offering respite to the two pilots’ eyes, even if they viewed it through their computer monitors. On one side waited Sisquiede. Deux was master of this facility, and here stood his weapon of formidable proportions. Opposite was the Dragon, Penelope, and her mistress Monique. It was to be an exhibition, but both pilots knew it to be something more. They were both Knights, and for their own reasons they both knew the truth: An exhibition was not nearly enough.

“My apologies, monsieur,” Benoit murmured lowly, tipping her head in the way she was taught long before thoughts of Gundams had entered her mind. Deux scowled, but returned the nod in kind. There was little more to be said at that point. The mechanics and operators could do the talking, making bets and cheering loudly clicks away. But in the immediate vicinity, no sound carried, leaving only the Dragon, the Beast, and the essence of the eventual fate of them all. Oblivion. Eternity. One and the same, Monique assumed. One and the same, Deux knew, even as he lowered his visor, gripping the controls tightly.

There was no need for countdowns or fancy lights. No, these two fighters knew as any Ace would, after battle and training. Their vessels creaked and moaned, crying for their owners to begin, yearning to dance death once again. But for the moment, they would have to wait until - -

“Now.” It was Deux that whispered it, but Monique’s mouth moved in simulacrum, even as the Penelope’s boosters started in full, easily avoiding the initial cursory blast of Sisquiede’s launcher. The first movements of each Mobile Suit were like a character on a stage play, each maneuver choreographed to the last, creating an intricate dance for the eyes watching not far away. In reality each were playing a part, probing and waning, testing for weakness in the other before committing to the first blow.

It would come twenty seconds in. Nimbly dodging a quick flurry of beam fire, Deux leveled his launcher as a half a dozen missiles rocketed in. It had been the same at least twice before, and almost lazily, he began to swat each away with a saber – Until four suddenly veered, as if possessed by a ghost, sweeping under and around, before detonating around his back. On the other side, possessed within the Psycommu, Monique grinned. First blood.

“I hate Newtypes,” Deux murmured darkly, launcher lifting. The deep of space began to hum with a faint resonance, before a wide beam rocketed through the blackness, catching every rocket, including the funnel controlled ones. When the energy dissipated, little remained but dust. “Benoit, you’re a psychic right?”

“Affirmative. Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Monique didn’t wait to see why, immediately blasting forward again, sabers igniting to take the Sisquiede up close and personal. Even with the amazing propulsion of the Newtype suit, her opponent was gone far before she could even think to swing. Even more perplexing was the sheer lack of anything on any of her instruments. At least, until everything went red.

The Sisquiede’s saber cut across Penelope’s back from shoulder to hip. The cut was shallow due to its sheer velocity, but still damaging enough. By the time Monique could activate the beam barrier and turn fully, Sisquiede was gone again. “You’re suit does not have a Mirage Coll-“ She began, before seeing the truth.

“There’s… no…need,” Deux murmured, hands clenching even tighter as his suit hit Five Gees more than a typical human could handle. They were in the openness of space, not the confines of the Atmosphere. And here, the true power of Sisquiede could be seen, in its offensive mode. The suit, already impressive, was nothing but a blur to even Monique’s Newtype senses. Every time she locked on, it was gone again, before appearing again for a quick attack, each time making a pin point strike at a piece of armor. It was nothing that Benoit had seen before, and something that could be so frustrating. A comrade in arms, but competitor, could be beating her with such ease. She, however, did not know the truth of that statement.

Deux had known from experience about the pain. It never prepared him for it. He could feel the blood welling in his mouth – a self-inflicted wound he had created in the past just to contain a scream. It was the only physical sign of trauma on his body, but every muscle ached as if he had been running a ten day marathon. Every bone felt that much closer to snapping, or being crushed from the velocity that Offense Mode brought. Every fiber was telling him not to continue, else he face imminent expiration. But he ignored them with sheer will. They warned him of that every time, and it had yet to happen. It would one day, but every soldier knew that. And they continued.

He had a fight to win.

The Sisquiede blurred into space again, and came about on the Penelope, swiping off another chunk of armor. But his goal had not been met yet – the beam barrier generator. Somehow, every pass, the lady Knight had brought her suit just so, to avoid any hits to the vital defensive structure. And each pass, though moderately successful, was equally stressing to Deux. He felt the strain of the constant activation and deactivation of the system grow with each pass. And despite a suit meant for space, and a tactical advantage, he was going up against a powerful newtype and skilled pilot. And the first moment he veered on his stick – Less than a dozen meters…

Monique felt it intrinsically. She might have thought it luck many years before, or at least proper training. She knew now to trust her instincts. The moment she felt the ripple in her soul, the Penelope made an about face, suddenly activating its barrier moments before Sisquiede would appear. Deux was a coordinator, but even his reaction time wasn’t fast enough for his suit’s offensive mode. All he could do was brace as the two suits collided with horrendous crunch, before separating like two cosmic pin balls.

The Sisquiede was the first to break the spinout caused by the collision, but even as he re-adjusted the rotors of the verniers, he frowned. The suit was still functional, but the impact had somehow jammed his operating system. He couldn’t get into Offensive Mode. And with a trepidation he usually reserved for being in the same moon as a Goddess, he realized that Monique knew as well. For the Penelope, turned from Dragon to full fledge warrior, was staring him down, beam saber ignited.

“You got Radium Eyes, monsieur,” Monique murmured softly, smirking despite herself. She knew, alright. And knew another truth. This fight now had begun. And she had to show who was the better for it.

In the history of this universe, the greatest duels have been recorded in the midst of gargantuan battles. Men became Gods, and women forces of nature, until one struck down another. These names were sung from the muses of Eternity, each one tapped into the public consciousness for their heroism or villainy. And always, always, would they be remembered as masters of the blades. Lords of Wars. On this day, perhaps, two more Lords of War were created, even if none would know the nature of the duel. Only a man and a woman would know the truth, and the man’s vassals. But they would get drunk and tell the story to their friends on other worlds, who would not believe them. For that is the nature of the story – They would be drunk, and the story too grandiose to be anything but fiction.

But the men of Excalibur would be telling truth.

You see, this was a saber duel for the ages. It was not because of skill, for there were pilots before, and would be pilots after that would have much greater skills. It was not for need, for this would end no wars, nor any power wrought. It was not for glory, for there was none. It was for the passion between pilot and suit, and the honour that bound a Lunar Knight to a cause. Neither would admit defeat until there was nothing left but tears and the empty battle field. It was for the past, and more importantly, the present.

Eternity would never remember this fight, but perhaps, that was the reason it became what it did.

They were two caught in an endless waltz, sabers glowing and humming the metronomic beat to which the dance would go. It was a dance of death brought to a new high, as Deux brought down each strike with mathematical precision, down to the eighth decimal point. And in turn Monique would parry and return, not with math, but the intuition and feel of a person born to do this. He was Coordinator, and she was Newtype. And though neither knew it yet, both possessed a suit that could no longer withstand their potential. The heavens would allow nothing less than perfection on this waltz. And Monique Benoit, brother of Lassiter, son of Guy Benoit, would not disappoint. Deux Ysverda, Lunar Empire’s “Knight of Blue” would not disappoint.

For minutes that crawled on like days, neither suit struck a defining blow against another. That is not to say that no damage was wrought – for the landscaped was marred by this death dance. Asteroids, once the size of small moons, found themselves rubble. Stray frozen corpses, both metal and men, became dust in the wake of super heated plasma and a combined passion hotter than any material component could ever manifest.

Perhaps by fate, but more likely serendipity, both sabers failed almost simultaneously, causing each pilot to pause to ignite a reserve. Were they not focusing on only the fight, they might have laughed – Monique for the irony of the situation, and Deux in biting sarcasm. But that was for another life, another reality, and the brief respite went on in silence. Soon, the thrums of saber on saber, and the pants of pilots and bated breath, returned.

Exhaustion and raw nerves were the forte of this dance, the waltz breaking down into a foxtrot, elegance turning into frenzy. Both became worried of their own mortal limits, and both wondered if their opponent was that much more superhuman. The result was a determination so palatable, that it cut down shields, and chinked armor deeper than any blade. For one and both, the fight was going too fast, and yet they did not see the reality of the situation. It was they that went too fast for the fight, with each anticipating the other’s moves seconds in advance. The Penelope and the Sisquiede made the motions of their masters, long after the commands were issued. The suits were feeling the effects of such a conflict just as much as the pilots.

It was Deux who won. Or at least he felt he did, finding a flaw in Penelope’s defenses so acute that it was almost not there. And perhaps to one not in the battle haze, it wasn’t, but he could see it as clear as day, even as Monique saw her opportunity. She never considered herself a screamer – a type who would let the emotions of battle get to her in one climatic motion – but on this occasion she let out a bloody cry. A sanguine cry, as her opponent let out a grunt of equal passion.

And the sabers penetrated. Or would have, had they not have expired seconds before.

And there was silence, save for the breathing of two souls, of two knights, realizing that this conclusion was the only one this battle could ever amount to.

“This is the end,” Monique murmured in a small voice, tired, but never feeling more alive.

“It is.”

“I believe there is naught a Knight with your candor, monsieur.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, woman,” Deux replied, but he was smiling. Gravely. “You know there is only one way this can play out.”
“I know. And I will wait.” It was the only honorable thing to do.

Deux nodded and began to work again. In a battle measured by the milliseconds, the twenty count it took to get the Offensive Mode restarted seemed longer than it would take for Monique to marry, and to see her children’s children. But soon the operating system’s backdoor kicked in, and the Sisquiede was alive to its fullest.

And his Launcher was ready for it’s final confrontation.

“Your offense against my best defense. A final charge to see who is the victor?” Monique offered, using her auxiliary systems to line up Penelope. She had to save the last of her primary systems for this attack.

“You say it as if I hadn’t thought of it an eternity ago,” Deux replied dryly, even as he leveled his I-Field Launcher towards the dragooned-themed suit.

There was no need for countdowns or fancy lights. No, these two fighters knew as any Ace would, after battle and training. Their vessels creaked and moaned, crying for their owners to begin, yearning to dance death once again. But for the moment, they would have to wait until - -

The sound of the Launcher’s Full Power Blast was a terrifying thing to behold. They said in space, no sound could travel, and yet to this day, one could hear stories of Excalibur’s crew mentioning the wail of lost souls emitting from that battleground to them. Few believed such things, but in that moment, as the Sisquiede’s gun pushed its limits, the lost souls sang the song of imminent destruction.

Deux licked his bloodied lips, and smiled, wincing at the pain it brought. His thumb hovered over the trigger as Penelope swooped and began to approach. And then he pressed the button… only…

The Sisquiede had passed its limit over five minutes before. Internal damage from the Offense Mode and the collision earlier had caused parts to malfunction piece by piece. It had only sustained this far from the determination of both suit and pilot. But in this, the final blow, the right leg servo exploded. It alone was not much of anything, but when precision meant the world, the explosion meant everything.

Instead of locking onto Penelope, the Sisquiede swerved. Its gun shifted from Mobile Suit, to Asteroid Fortress only clicks away. Deux had known the truth of what would transpire the moment the gun slipped, but it was already too late. His thumb depressed upon the trigger, meaning death to dozens, if not hundreds.

“Excalibur, No!”

He could see it in his mind’s eye. The blackness would flare into a bright white, and the blast would speed towards its destiny: The destruction of the Fortress. Only.

Only, this field had two knights on it.

“You think I would let you try to cheat your way out of this duel on account of personal tragedy?” Monique murmured, eyes smiling, even as the Penelope slammed against the Sisquiede. Both bailed out of their respective Mobile Suits. Their protective life support suits were barely enough to shade their eyes from the brightness and heat. And from her vantage, only a dozen meters away from the conjoined gladiators, Monique looked on in awe.

“It is heaven. It is hell. It is-“

“Your death if you don’t fucking move,” Deux grabbed the other Knight’s arm before boosting away, even as Penelope activated its beam barrier by timer device, a half second before...

Finally powered up, the Launcher fired. The blast erupted, splitting into a dozen different beams as it collided with the Beam Barrier. Both knew what would come next, but it was the only way. The cost of two suits was worth the lives of the crew, who only wanted entertainment on this night. Both the Penelope and the Sisquiede overloaded, a massive explosion enveloping the suits and throwing Deux and Monique into the blackness. Both pilots were carried, like flotsam on the high seas, for hundreds of meters. Finally, they managed to control themselves.

And when both had stopped, the only thing that remained were two Knights with black spots in their visions, oblivion, and eternity.

“Do you think anyone will believe this battle?” Monique asked Deux, blinking back tears. She would miss Penelope.

“Does it matter?”

Monique mused.

“No.”

For they both knew the truth. This was the beginning of something even greater.

Outcome: Draw
Penelope: Upgrading
Sisquiede: Upgrading

___________________________________________________________________________
Hi-Nu versus Crossbone X-2
By: Stargazer

The room was dark, a comfortable dimness and a warm closeness. Smoke filled the air, great thick plumes of it, roiling and suffusing everything with its tepid incense.

The overall color of the room was a warm red. Cushions littered the floor and chairs. There was a bar. The sharp tones of a sitar stirred the smoke, soothing. Hookah were scattered about the room, each surrounded by one or more reclined figures.

One stood out among the rest. His pale, eastern European face and shock of blonde hair easily marked him as a foreigner among the dark skin and graceful features of the regulars. Despite this, the man did not look uncomfortable. Alexie Romanov was at ease, exuding a confident assurance that the others in the bar sensed and unconsciously respected.

“So this is what you’d call…a ‘pub’?” Alexie asked, taking in the rest of the bar. His companion shrugged languidly.

Hands deep in his pockets, the young man of the McEwan tribe stretched his five foot eleven inch frame across the pile of soft cushions which vaguely resembled a chair. Straightening to a sitting position, he ran a hand through his wild brown hair. Unlike Alexie, Alexander looked perfectly at home among the smoke and dark faces.

“I guess. It’s not exactly the same thing, though.” His British accent seemed as oddly at home as his western body. His bright green eyes scanned the rest of the hookah bar disinterestedly. Romanov examined the tube and mouthpiece emanating from the device on the table in between the two, twisting it under his thumb. He took a pull from it, experimentally, and looked surprised at the puff of smoke that emerged when he exhaled. The sitar was joined by drums, briefly. The music was intoxicating.

“Tastes like strawberries,” he exclaimed, delighted. A grin twitched on Alexander’s face.

“Yeah, it’s flavored tobacco. They don’t pull it out often - the regulars don’t like it. I think I’m the only guy who orders it, yet they always have some when I pass through here.” The young man glanced around the bar again, and then propped his head up on the table. “Let’s go do something man, I’m getting bored.”

Alexie took another puff before replying. He blew out carefully, skill long honed by years of thick cigars. A perfect smoke ring emerged, drifting lazily before being joined by two smaller and faster brothers. The Russian grinned, proud even as the rings died to a stirring current.

Alexander nodded, approving. Romanov’s eyes darted to his British companion.

“You said something about a duel, earlier…?”

Little more needed to be spoken. The two pilots understood each other without words.

In a darkened corner of the bar, lurking like a villain of old, another westerner hid. Without hearing a word of the conversation, he understood what the departure of the two Europeans meant. He saw it in their stance, sensed it in their gaze. Battle was nigh.

Sigurd shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The system was starting to affect him in weird ways. He even got poetic, sometimes. Odd, for an accountant.

The sitar played on, alone.

~

Sigurd Atremite wore his burgundy and grey jumpsuit with a casual confidence. His actions seemed suffused with a portentous grace, as he flipped through the switches and ignitions of the start up sequence. The Epyon sprang to life, consoles flaring with green and viewscreens springing into abrupt clarity. The eyes of the red suit burned with green power, blazing brightly in the darkness.

The stars were out. They struggled in competition with the explosions, deadly and bright, of a much closer conflict.

Sigurd was under the trees, nearly to the battle before he finally, dazedly placed the angular white helm of the system over his head. Darkness engulfed the man. Sunrise came in an instant, data pouring into his brain and out again in simultaneous flow. Knowing he had only seconds of clarity before the system wrenched it from him, Sigurd prepared his mind for the plunge.

Another explosion. But not outside of the cockpit. Within the mind of its pilot: a single question.

Why let it?

The system grabbed hold of his neurons, suffocating and powerful. But Sigurd clung to his sanity desperately, unyielding. His grip was vice-like. The system retreated.

Immediacy – and control – returned to the man. He found himself in a daze, the moment crystallized and the options laid out in front of him. Every alternative was considered. Each variable accounted for.

It was almost possible to touch his path. Victory was this easy. But…to not take it to the final conclusion, was that to fail?

No, Sigurd said. It wasn’t. It was ok.

~

The Hi-Nu backpedaled, feet crashing across the verdant green hills. The Vulcan guns in its head spat fire at the advancing dark visage of the Crossbone X-2. The attacks cut through the anti-beam cloak but bounced harmlessly off the suit’s Gundarium armor. Inside the dark Crossbone, Alexie grinned. He thrust his controls forward as rounds ricocheted outside his cockpit. The suit blasted forth.

Alexander was ready, however. The two clashed, Hi-Nu barely parrying the Crossbone’s thrust. The dark suit took another swing, the McEwan boy’s newtype senses the only thing saving his Gundam from decapitation. Alexander knew he wouldn’t last long in close combat, so he blasted back and launched his shield’s missiles. The Crossbone’s namesake thrusters flipped and spun it into the air with incredible alacrity.

“Damn! He’s too fast,” Alexander grumbled.

For Alexie, it was almost too easy. His opponent was too fresh to understand yet, but he was practically telegraphing his moves. He would become better in time, Alexie could tell, but for now he was easy to predict. The fact that his suit was so swift didn’t hurt eith-

A beeping alerted him of the Epyon’s presence only seconds before the red suit knocked him out of the sky. Heat rod lashed, reaching for him, but Romanov’s own prescience guided his hands. The X-2 was out of the Epyon’s grip before the demonic suit could adjust, and its bone like thrusters angled to send it careening into the sky again.

The Crossbone’s agility gave even the system a pause, as it adjusted its calculations to account for this variable. It took only part of a second, but it was enough of a hesitation that Sigurd could feel it. He allowed the data to flow to him, but it did not force his hand. Not this time.

The Epyon appeared inhuman to Alexander, flipping up much faster than he could imagine reacting. Its thrusters guided it to a collision course with the waiting Crossbone once more. The two suits met in a flash, weapons spilling their light across the midnight hills. Alexie angled the massive beam sword between his own saber and an ignited brand marker crossing his knuckles. The Epyon drove its sword down with one hand, inexorably. The strength of the demon suit was incredible. The other hand drew back.

Heat rod whipped out. Alexie was already reacting, hands in motion before the attack even came. The beam sword slid off of the saber, guided only by the brand. The Crossbone pushed out and turned to the side simultaneously, the massive sword sliding down and away from its body. But the heat rod still caught.

In a screech of tortured metal the Crossbone X-2’s right arm was torn off, beam saber shutting down as the appendage flew off into the night. The dark suit jetted back, staying aloft with its powerful thrusters.

The system expected a full retreat, and confirmed this when the X-2 drew its Zanbuster. Sigurd pushed the red suit forward, thrusters flaring and eyes burning. But the variable came into play once again.

The X-2 changed direction as quickly as a thought, more agile than even the Epyon. A scissor anchor flew true out of the night, slamming into and clasping around a leg of the larger suit. It was forced to suddenly change direction as the X-2 arced in an impossibly tight turn. Was it going to…?

Sigurd gasped as the restraint straps hit his chest. The Epyon went vertical, looping around the spinning Crossbone X-2 several times, its pilot caught in inertial energy.

With a final burst of power from its flaring thrusters, the Crossbone X-2 finally released the Epyon. The scissor anchor detached and it fell into the night.

Alexander realized, in a somewhat detached way, that the red suit was hurtling directly toward his position. In fact, it would likely impact, and soon. He thought about the problem.

His thoughts sent three funnels springing slightly ahead. They opened and formed a beam barrier, which leapt up just in time to intercept the oncoming Epyon. The suit’s momentum was not destroyed by the barrier, which only held for a second, but it was considerably slowed down when it plowed into the Hi–Nu. Alexander felt his cockpit spin around him, and considered blacking out or puking but discarded the thought.

The two suits landed, thrashed together. Armor dented and sparking in places, the Epyon rose. The Hi-Nu was slower to rise, weaker Gundarium armor faring much worse under the tumble.

Sigurd took a second to visually scan the other suit.

“Are you alright?” The accountant asked, noting how sane he sounded. But how cold. At least he meant well.

“Probably not.” Alexander stated, unconcerned. “My reactor’s running at about 60%. But thanks, whoever you are, I was getting creamed out there and you guys were much more exciting.”

Sigurd felt slightly confused. It was pleasant, being able to converse like this in battle. Why hadn’t he tried this sooner?

“Uh…you’re welcome.”

Beam shots rang out. Alexander darted out of the way, lightning warning flashing across his eyes, and the system had long ago told Sigurd what was going to happen. The Crossbone X-2 aimed the zanbuster carefully, loosing several more shots at the much more intimidating opponent, that red suit. They missed, the Epyon veering wildly and then shooting straight again, toward Alexie, on a column of green flame.

The two combatants met again, the Epyon finishing the duel with a single swipe each of the heat rod and beam sword. The remaining arm and two thrusters of the X-2 fell to the ground, quickly followed by the crash of their owner.

Sigurd let the Crossbone fall, the system a mere whisper now. It still fed him, but submitted to his wishes. He let the Epyon fall as well, feet landing in a soft patch of moonlit grass.

The system fed him one last byte of data before this contest could be finished. The beam sword lashed out, cutting off the hand and glowing beam saber of the Hi-Nu, which had approached during the final clash with the Crossbone. The heat rod followed up the disabling blow, wrapping around and crushing the Hi-Nu’s head.

Sigurd heard a short laugh over the comm.

“Oh well. Let’s go see if there are any fit Indian chicks at that hookah bar now.”

A second voice responded with a “Hell yeah”.

The Annapolis accountant smiled. These were good guys.

It was a good night

Outcome: Epyon wins, Crossbone X-2 and Hi-Nu lose
Epyon: 2 days damage
Hi-Nu: 3 days damage
Crossbone X-2: 3 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Deathscythe versus GOUF Ignited
By: Akatsuki

Shuurajou Akame, piloting his GOUF Ignited, awaited the arrival of his opponent eagerly. The flight pack on GOUF kept it cruising through the sky, and beneath laid a large river surrounded by forests. The steady bass of music he had playing kept him pumped up for battle. Ignited banked left and right, moving in rhythm to the song. Shuurajou was totally in synch with the beat; his mind was clear of any distracting thoughts, save for a wondering for where Gustav was.

Static crackled on cue. "GOUF, this is Gustav Hartmann. I see you're ready to begin our duel, yes?"

A light smile played over Shuurajou's face as he flipped on his microphone. "You've got that right.” His muscles twitched and his fingers tightened around the controls, but his body was still in time with the heavy bass. GOUF quickly descended to the canopy of trees below and landed a mere twenty meters from the river bank. The tall foliage and wide, deep, river were incredibly peaceful. Shuurajou closed his eyes for a moment; a moment of respect for the scenery which was about to bare witness to battle. "So where are you?"

"Right behind you," replied Gustav. GOUF quickly turned around to see Gundam Deathscythe standing to its back. Shuurajou blinked; his sensors didn't even detect the Gundam's arrival, much less where it was standing.

"…I won't ask how you got here undetected…" GOUF retrieved its "Tempest" beam sword from its shield, the blade extending to full length before beams ignited along each edge. Shuurajou entered a combat stance, still bobbing and weaving to the bass. "But I'm more than ready to test these weapons out!" A warm smile spread over his visage.

Gustav couldn't resist a small laugh. Such energy in this young man; this will be a fight to remember. "No need to rush, my young friend. This may be a duel, but this is not war. Let us take our time and enjoy the glory of our battle." Unit 02 reached to its back and grabbed its beam scythe. The Reaper's Blade sprang to life; luminescent energy created a large sickle. Deathscythe also entered a battle posture; Gustav could feel the familiarity of this moment in his bones.

Everything became still. Both suits stood a mere ten meters from each other. Even the music inside GOUF’s cockpit was mute. The moment seemed to last for an eternity. Without any signal, both pilots began their attack.

Shuurajou launched GOUF into the air using its flight pack. Soaring above its opponent, the brightly-colored suit fired its "Draupnir" beam cannons, raining green shots down at Deathscythe. Gustav's smile grew as the feeling of battle set upon him. Unit 02's thrusters threw it forward at great speed, allowing him to dodge the constant shower of green dots. He quickly did a 180-degree turn around, letting Deathscythe’s momentum carry it backwards. Gustav opened fire with his chest cannons and head-mounted vulcans. The shots flew towards the rhythmically juking GOUF, but merely a handful scratched its shield. Seeing the futility in his barrage, Gustav fired his thrusters to maximum capacity, forcing Deathscythe to fly forward toward its opponent.

Shuurajou quickly readied his sword again. GOUF's blade met Death's scythe; the duelists were locked in a mid-air pushing match. Warnings began appearing on Gustav's screens where the thrusters had started to overheat. He quickly shoved off of GOUF and began to fall backwards.

Shuurajou instantly counter-attacked by extending his left heat rod. He whipped it back and then towards the falling Deathscythe. Instead of hitting its intended target, it quickly latched onto the Gundam’s signature weapon. Shuurajou let out a quick "Ah hah!" before yanking the deadly scythe from his foe's grasp. It flew back towards Shuurajou…. and kept coming. GOUF quickly attempted to juke right to dodge the spinning melee implement, but the weapon lopped off part of its shield.

While its opponent was distracted by the scythe, Deathscythe had landed. Thrusters beginning to cool down, Gustav fired his Buster Shield at the now-dodging GOUF. The projectile fired from Unit 02's left hand, revealing two metal blades and an energy spike. As it spun towards GOUF, Shuurajou realized a moment too late that he was under attack again. The missile's blades bisected his Slayer Whip, loosing the scythe from Shuurajou’s clutches, and allowing it to spin down to the ground.

There was a slight pause; both pilots stared at each other, then to the falling weapon. The battle resumed as both men dashed to retrieve the prize. Deathscythe fired a hail of ballistics for distraction, while GOUF threw its beam sword at Deathscythe. Deathscythe merely juked left slightly to avoid the sword, but GOUF was forced to bank right and break off its pursuit. Gustav quickly flew to his weapon and grabbed it in midair while doing a forward flip above the rushing river. The suit's thrusters kept it hovering ankle-deep in the water for only a moment, before it hopped back to shore.

Gustav immediately began scanning the skies for his quarry. Suddenly, he was rocked from behind as GOUF shoulder-rammed him from the side. Gustav was tossed around his cockpit, while outside, his mobile weapon teetered into the river. Gundanium armor easily withstood the tackle, but the pilot was not so fortunate – the sound of a rib cracking against his restraints nearly made the man vomit blood.

Affording no time for recovery, Shuurajou immediately followed with more shots from his "Draupnir” into the water.

The beam pellets mostly went wide, sending columns of steam into the air. However, some of them maintained cohesion past the surface, and began searing into Deathscythe’s shoulders. Several holes were made in the Gundanium, but the suit was no worse off for it. Shortly, however, the entire area was covered in steam, obscuring Shuurajou’s vision and making him relent from the attack.

Shuurajou kept looking around for Deathscythe, seemingly unconcerned as he continued bobbing to the bass beat; he listened to the bass line of his own heart. His sensors still could not detect Unit 02, nor could he find it in any of his cameras. The steam drifted sedately around the river and GOUF. Shuurajou gritted his teeth. Not good, he thought. He immediately set his flight pack's thrusters to a hover setting, letting him gently float over the ground while blowing some of the steam away.

When the obfuscation disappeared, the trick proved too late. Gustav silently snuck around GOUF until he had a ripe chance to attack. Charging at full speed, Deathscythe made a sweeping strike at its target, decapitating cleanly with the sickle. Shuurajou tried to react, but without his cameras, the inexperienced pilot floundered and nearly fell into the river himself. This time, Deathscythe was there to latch onto the Ignited’s backpack, steadying its footing.

"Enough for one day, lad. It's been a wonderful fight." Gustav smiled as he released the other duelist. In response, Gouf’s cockpit hatched opened, eliciting Hartmann to do the same.

On the ground, Shuurajou and Gustav stood face to face. The men both held each other's gaze for a brief moment before they grinned simultaneously. Each offered the other a hand, without so much as a word. Everything that needed to be said was sent through the handshake; such is the bond formed in battle.

Outcome: Deathscythe wins, GOUF Ignited loses
Deathscythe: 2 days repairs
GOUF Ignited: 2 days repairs

___________________________________________________________________________
Victory 2 Assault-Buster versus Omicron
By: Stargazer

The morning was cold. Mornings on Mercury always were. The glass viewports of the Nerevarine were crystal clear, practically singing from the freezing temperatures outside.

The thin sound of a violin being skillfully played picked its way across the bridge of the ship. The artist wove pitched soundscapes into a continuous, piercingly beautiful tone. This was how Lassiter Benoit liked to enjoy his mornings. The crisp air and the crisp music combined to make each Mercurial sunrise an event to remember. On patrol from Outpost Alpha, the Nerevarine floated serenely in the gentle dawn.

Lassiter sipped his coffee, thoughtfully, as the first rays slipped gently across the horizon. The captain and most of the regular crew were asleep, with only the night staffers still on duty. The bridge was very quiet, aside from the thin whisper of the violin.

The sun, so much closer to Mercury than to Lassiter’s home, blazed forth in all its glory. The Mercurial day was beginning, as the minimal atmosphere outside was heated to a furious blaze. Sol herself lifted her head above the horizon, almost hesitating. Crackling solar flares, visible at this range, seemed to launch themselves from the deadly surface as if escaping.

The Nerevarine’s viewports began to dim, protecting the irises of those inside, but for a fleeting moment Lassiter caught a glimpse of the true Mercurial sunrise. A wild beast, a show of death, the sky itself seemed to catch flame. It was more than any man could bear, and it was now mercifully dimmed.

Lassiter sighed and dipped his head, closing his eyes and folding his long hands into his lap. He sat peaceful for a moment, enjoying the lull in time while he could.

~

In the hangar of the ship, two suits stood together. Through the contrast in appearance, a brotherhood stood out. The Omicron, angular and vicious looking, lurked in its dark and light blues. The Victory 2 Assault-Buster, smooth and graceful seeming, stood proud in its blues, whites, and yellows.

The duality was not lost on Astrophel Govannon. The massive Imperial Knight stood stock still, staring at the suits as if lost in a trance. His soft hazel eyes peered up at his destiny.

Nearby, a soft clink broke the spell. A technician leaned over his toolbox, replacing a wrench he had been using. Astrophel shook his head. Was waxing sentimental over these machines of war proper?

The man didn’t know. A vision of the Empire’s future hovered at the corners of his sight - the tall Govannon felt something tugging at his mind, suits clashing and cries of battle, but it was fleeting and gone in the next moment. Astrophel felt something very important had just been missed.

“Brother…” Astrophel whispered, “Could you imagine this…?”

The Gundam pilot raised his hands to his weapon. The Victory’s eyes flashed faintly in reply.

~

“Wars are won and lost on the strength of pilots and their suits.” Lassiter chopped his hand decisively, emphasizing his point. The other grasped the helmet of the normal suit to his side. “We must be in a state of perpetual readiness, no matter the cost.”

“But sir!” The technician wrung a dirty rag between his hands, face smudged and worried. “We’ve just finished the Omicron and the V2 model Gundams! You can’t just take them out so soon! There are tests to be run, bugs to be fixed…”

“None of that matters!” Lassiter found himself shouting, passionate, “Men and women can adjust to their machinery! The true warrior needs no test but battle!”

Other technicians, close behind the first, began to mumble worriedly at their leader’s outburst. The head technician bowed nervously to the Knight, making apologies and recommendations of cautiousness. Lassiter found he had no patience for it. Ignoring the techs, he drew his communicator from his belt and spoke into it.

“Bridge, this is Lassiter. Ready launch catapults for the Omicron and V2 Gundams. We’re conducting a test run.”

“Acknowledged, Sir Benoit.” The captain’s voice replied, “Will you be testing their combat capabilities as well?”

“Roger that, bridge.” Lassiter confirmed. The Knight clipped the communicator to his belt again and stared up at the Omicron’s menacing visage. Its angular lines reflected in his bright blue eyes.

~

Thrusters screaming their power into the hot Mercurial day, the Omicron set itself down onto the beige rock of the planet. Dust flew up in plumes as it landed, then settled to the ground. Craters dotted the landscape in all directions, mountains rising into the distance. To the north, the Nerevarine waited. The ship was distant now, however.

“ Astrophel!” Lassiter yelled into the comm., over the roaring of the other suit’s M-drive. The V2 Assault-Buster Gundam soared overhead, curving horizontally into a turn. Its engines carved a blue streak in Mercury’s thin atmosphere. “Have you got a feel for it?”

“Aye,” The Knight-Commander of the Mother Weathers replied. Govannon was a man of few words, but expansive actions. The V2 picked up speed over the Mercurial landscape, soon disappearing from Lassiter’s sight and leaving only a sonic concussion in its wake. Benoit winced as the shockwave washed over his suit.

“Let’s see if we can keep up, Omicron.” The Knight mumbled, hands a blur as he deftly managed his powerful machine. The Gundam rose on a cushion of thrust and transformed into flight mode. M-drive humming to life, the massive suit blasted off in pursuit with a rush of dust and hot air.

The two suits rose above the horizon of Mercury, powerful engines sending them weaving through the upper atmosphere at speeds exceeding that of sound. Lassiter and Astrophel pushed their new mobiles suits to the limits of their speed, quickly losing sight of the ship even as the Nerevarine attempted to keep up.

Both veteran pilots were pushed back into their seats by the power of their acceleration. The pressure was almost too much to bear, but slowly each fought back, regaining control of their weapons and slowing to a drift as they passed over a mountain chain.

The two Knights panted in their individual suits, hanging suspended in air above the brown landscape. Lassiter was the first to speak.

“That was…intense…” He found it difficult to get his breath back.

“Yeah…I could feel the potential to go even faster, though.” The much bigger Astrophel had recovered quicker than his companion. His breath came smoothly now, the catch in his chest disappearing. “It seems these suits are even more high performance than we initially thought.”

“We’ll just have to be worthy of their strength, then.” Benoit thought about his sister, who he had not seen in quite a few days. She had her own mission, but had she improved as he had? He would find out one day, but for now, he needed to gauge his own power. “I don’t believe any pilots currently in our forces could handle these machines.”

“That’s obvious,” Astrophel said distractedly, adjusting his controls. This V2 Gundam model handled very similar to his old Victory 2. The panoramic cockpit felt like home. Only a few minute adjustments to his height and it fit like a glove.

Though he couldn’t have known it, Lassiter was going through the same process. The smaller pilot sensed much of his Xi in this new beast, but there was a power there formerly missing, held in check.

Both pilots sensed newfound strength in their limbs.

Simultaneously, the Omicron Gundam and the V2 Assault-Buster produced two beam saber hilts apiece, former reaching arms over its pack, latter opening its palms to accept the contraptions offered from its own wrist. Lassiter and Astrophel steered their weapons in silence. The two deadly suits rushed for each other, clashing in mid air as four beam sabers crossed in blazing radiance.

“So…Knight Gorvannon…what say we warm up a bit?” Lassiter spoke through gritted teeth, a ghastly grin green stretching across his face.

“Excellent suggestion, Knight Benoit.” Astrophel smiled faintly, beam saber illumination turning his face into a rictus of bright green contortions. “Warm up lasts five minutes, at which point live fire competition will begin. Synchronizing suit chronographs.”

A flat tone sounded in both suits. To the newtypes, it was as if lightning struck.

The Omicron and V2 each made a break for it, blasting off simultaneously in opposite directions. Beam sabers flaring along with powerful thrusters, the two looped around in neckwrenching turns and headed back to each other. A second clash rang out over the Mercurial plain. Gundam pushed against Gundam, sabers locked in a tic-tac-toe pattern. Massive thrusters strained against each other, reaching the very limit of their tolerances. Neither suit gave ground. At another unspoken signal, they dashed away again and returned, bright lights bouncing violently off of each other from the view of the distant Nerevarine.

Astrophel spun his suit into a dive, sliding under the rising Omicron and slashing in for the attack. His thrust was easily dodged by the slightly more experienced Lassiter. He counterattacked, the angular Gundam cutting downward with both large sabers. The V2 brought up both of its sabers just in time to deflect the strike, sending the Omicron spinning to the planet’s surface.

Lassiter caught himself in mid-fall, his Omicron’s downward thrust eradicating a thin brown cloud that had somehow survived the sunrise. Astrophel glanced at the readings on his console.

“So, it seems the Omicron Gundam has a similar performance to my own V2…” The Knight stroked his chin, staring at the hovering opponent below.

The timer read two minutes and thirty seconds until live fire commenced.

The Omicron Gundam paused, shuddering under the power of the mighty M-drive. It did not move, otherwise.

“How about we take things seriously here, Astrophel…” Lassiter’s voice was low and confident. “The gloves need to come off…”

On the larger man’s console, the timer suddenly turned red. It quickly fell down to four zeroes, blinking in warning. The Govannon pilot grinned, understanding. All four beam sabers went back into their docks.

They were Knights. There could be no leashing of their instincts. They spoke the language of war, and could only respond in kind.

The Omicron shuddered even more violently as the whine of the M-drive generators went up a pitch. Lassiter urged his machine on to greater feats, hands dancing across the controls. The Gundam spoke to him as his mind merged further with the psycoframe. He felt his senses intertwine with the metal itself.

A triumphant yell sounded over the comm. Govannon stared in surprise as the Omicron Gundam gave one last shudder and suddenly burst into angel wings, their radiance glowing gently on Astrophel’s upturned face.

“TheWings of Light…” he whispered, awestruck. “I had no idea the Omicron was designed with that!”

In a flash of oxide, the wings on the V2 Assault Buster also leapt into being. The two angels faced off, in the heavens of a strange planet. The sun blazed overhead, the wings of the Lunar angels vying for its light. Tears formed in the eyes of each pilot – the light reflected from the landscape and sky and their own radiance stung to the point of pain.

Both suits wrapped themselves in the glowing wings. The angels dove at each other, crashing like thunder upon the plains. The combatants bounced back, each unable to overcome the other, wings unfurling and hands reaching for weapons.

The Omicron was the faster draw, Lassiter’s psycoframe-guided actions clocking in just under Astrophel’s. The angular Gundam brought up a beam rifle and its shield, firing at the V2 twice.

The gold and blue suit took the hits in stride, power sliding off of its I-field safely. Astrophel grinned.

“You think such mundane weapons will hurt me?” He scoffed. The mega beam cannon on the V2’s shoulder lowered into position. “This is a real gun!”

His newtype senses screamed a warning, and Lassiter reflexively wrapped the beam wings close around the Omicron’s spiky form. A huge blast erupted from the V2’s shoulder, deadly particles ripping out of the cannon housing and slamming themselves into their target. The Omicron shook under the barrage, beam barrier holding up valiantly. The incredible strength of the blast began to deform the radius of the beam barrier, and the generator began to whine loudly.

The next moment, the attack ceased. The barrel of the cannon on the V2’s shoulder let off waves of intense heat.

The Omicron stood unscathed, as the barrier fell. Suddenly, a spark betrayed the damage. The generator on the back of the Omicron exploded, throwing the suit forward slightly and eliciting a curse from Lassiter.

“Beam barrier is gone. No way, that thing is this powerful…?” The Knight sighed. “I guess I should take my own advice and continue a little more seriously.”

“Lassiter! Don’t let your guard down!” Astrophel yelled as he lowered the mega beam cannon once more. A second massive blast rushed out, grasping eagerly for the undefended Omicron.

The suit was gone in the blink of an eye, jetting above the beam blast, wings spread and silhouetted against the bright sun. Astrophel was blinded for a moment, as the Omicron crested its rise. From the racks on its back, funnels rocketed into flight. From the knee and shoulder racks, funnel missiles also rose. They spread out in formation, Lassiter’s powerful newtype mind behind their every move. The Omicron blasted forward in unison with its escort.

The angular Gundam and its funnels were on him in seconds. Astrophel barely had time to react, the all-range weapons darting in beneath his I-field to burn his beam coating while the Omicron dashed in, sabers drawn. The funnel missiles looped around on a wide course, coming in from behind the V2. With his attention divided, Govannon realized that he was vulnerable. He had to put a stop to this.

The wings of light whipped forward, slamming the Omicron away and detonating two of Lassiter’s funnels. The funnel missiles struck true, guided by the newtype Knight’s unerring mind, avoiding the flailing beam wings and exploding in glorious flame upon the V2’s back. Readouts screamed warnings in Astrophel’s cockpit. It seemed like the thrusters had been damaged, and with its dip in maneuverability the V2 was put at a disadvantage.

“Don’t hold back, Lassiter!” Astrophel screamed into the comm., normally mild personality lost in this psychic showdown. The psycoframe fueled Lassiter’s own ability, channeling his own tension to his opponent and vice versa, a feedback loop of mental pressure that yearned for release in battle.

“Same goes for you,” Lassiter growled. The Omicron, smoking and burned where the beam wings had hit it, rose on its wings and charged once more, beam saber gripped in both hands. Beneath the Knight’s feet, the psycoframe base had begun to glow a faint blue…

“No problem!” Govannon shouted violently, raising the VSBR and loosing several lighting blasts at the incoming Gundam. The Omicron’s wings of light swept forward to dash the shots away, and the angular suit closed with the V2.

The bulky weapon hit, plasma exploding from both opposing beam sabers. The newtypes clashed, their minds touching and wrapping around each other as their moves were transmitted back and forth. They seemed to operate several minutes into the future, their duel becoming a dance of seductive lines and angles.

From the two locked suits, a blue glow began to fight with the oppressive red of the sun. Seen from the Nerevarine, the bright blue beacon suffused the entire horizon with its light. The captain and crew stood in awe at the sight.

“This…this is the power of the Gundams?” The captain whispered, unable to process the miracle occurring in front of him. The blue light pulsed in response, a wind blowing through the minds of everyone near.

In the center of the new sun, the Omicron and V2 moved at lightning speed. Deflecting, thrusting, assaults from all directions came together in a blaze of skill and technology. The V2 lost the mega beam cannon to a fraction-too-soon slash, and the Omicron lost a leg to a swipe of a beam wing. Their minds seemed to merge so fully that each man understood what actions the other would take, and their own response, and the counter to that, and so on until the inevitable conclusion. Both men could see it. The future hurtled forward in a suicidal drop, the end the ground, the battle the wind passing through the jumper’s hair…

The world paused.

The blue sun erupted in a supernova, psychic energy forcing the crew of the Nerevarine simultaneously to their knees. Even Outpost Alpha, half a planet away, experienced an odd unease that day and the soldier’s nightmares that dusk. Finally, even newtypes on Earth turned to the sky with an odd sense of déjà-vu.

The psychoframe under Lassiter’s feet was blindingly bright now. The Knight could feel the heat emanating from it. The V2’s face stared directly into his eyes, huge on his monitor.

Over Lassiter’s head, the beam saber poured its fury into the armor of the Omicron. Just above his cockpit, plasma raged into his new suit.

As he stared at the violent death just meters above his face, Lassiter smiled. He felt Astrophel’s amusement as the beam saber shut down. He knew the other man was smiling too, as sure as he knew his own name.

Outcome: Victory 2 Assault-Buster wins, Omicron loses
Omicron: 3(2) days damage
Victory 2 Assault-Buster: 2(1) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Kshatriya versus Zeta
By: Jack in Diamond

Excalibur maintained its lazy orbit around the charred rock known as Mercury, hiding from Sol in the small planet’s shadow. Only a dozen blinking lights revealed the nigh-invisible asteroid’s existence in the shadowy lee. In the privacy only afforded by hiding on the dark side of what was essentially a glorified moon, preparations for some entertainment had begun.

“How much were you ponying up on this fight again?”

Inside the Kshatriya’s cockpit, Ryan didn’t deign to respond to Lucky’s banter as he positioned his mobile suit on the launch catapult. It wasn’t rudeness per se, but more of the fact that he was a class above the corporate strong arms- whatever their opinion of Lassiter Benoit. Each of the four binders glowed as Ryan thumbed the thruster controls, spinning the Kshatriya to face the asteroid base. His almost plain features didn’t belie his concentration as he waited for Excalibur’s owner to join him for their duel. Strong-arm or not, Ryan looked forward to dueling Tristan McDowell. Excalibur, despite its myriad of guns, mines, and generators, was an amazingly boring place to be at times.

---

Nonplussed by the expected non-reaction of the Lunar Knight, Tristan made sure his worn deck of cards wouldn’t drift as he tucked them into a small pouch strapped to the side of his cockpit. Beam rifle in hand, he maneuvered Zeta over to the same launch catapult that had sent his competitor spiraling into the infinite, squatting the mobile suit down in preparation for the launch. He didn’t bother signaling he was leaving – it was his base after all. Soon, Lucky and Zeta were hurled from Excalibur, and his comm activated as he drifted a few seconds, “One. Two. Three…”

---

It was a game both men had played as children, as old if not older than time itself; hide-n-seek. Ryan grinned despite himself as he shot the green mobile armor towards a small cluster of debris. There were a number of such clumps, probably remnants from the hollowing of Excalibur in order to make it suitable for habitation. As he saw that the clumps were within “jumping” distance of each other, his eyes narrowed as he began plotting a trap for Excalibur’s owner.

---

“…Seven. Eight. Niiiiiine, and ten! Ready or not, here I come!’

Transforming into waverider mode, the Zeta shot through the darkness, its thrusters leaving a streak of blue after images. Both pilots were Newtypes and it didn’t take Lucky long to get a feel for the general area where Ryan had chosen to wait, steering his mobile suit towards the outcropping. If Tristan was a betting man- which he was- he would have guessed that the Imperial was planning an ambush. He could avoid it all together, and risk playing into a second trap, or he could try to wreak havoc with the spider’s web. It was like something he had heard back in Little Memphis. “Sometimes you have to fight, but when you do fight it on their turf! Just don’t go fightin’ it on their rules. I sure as hell didn’t raise no son of mine to start a fight, but you daaaamn well better finish it.” With a grin, he sent the jet-like form of his mobile weapon streaking towards the clusters, muttering something along the lines of “Lets see how strong the spider’s webbing is.”

---

Funnels dropped from the four petal-like binders, floating inert as Ryan kicked off the largest rock in the cluster he had hidden in- gliding silently to another grouping of debris. Ever so often another funnel would drop, a trail of remote weapons drifting between the four clusters that Ryan visited. Newtype’s intuition told him that Lucky was getting closer, Melchior getting the impression that McDowell would be experiencing a similar sensation. With his “trap” set, he simply let the green mobile suit drift behind a larger piece of space detritus, watching behind the cluster for any sneak attacks, waiting for Lucky to make the first move in their engagement.

---

If it were possible for a mobile suit to slink, the Zeta would as it slid between the drifting boulders. Back in its more humanoid form, Lucky used Zeta’s beam rifle to push and prod smaller rocks out of his way as he strained his eyes, and mental assets, searching for Ryan. It was tantalizing, able to almost taste the newtype’s essence, but not quite find him. Like trying to grab smoke, it just slipped from between his fingers. Closing his eyes, Lucky forced himself into a more meditative state as he used his still fledgling abilities and the Zeta’s bio-sensor to search for Kshatriya. His eyes popped open as he felt – rather than saw – something come to life behind him it. It was like hearing a bubble pop, like…like there was a funnel right behind him!

Pink energy tore directly beneath the Zeta as it rocketed upwards, narrowly avoiding three boulders large enough to be business buildings as it went. Able to get more speed of out the Zeta in waverider mode, Lucky shifted the mobile suit into a jet, twisting and diving to avoid a second funnel chasing him. The Spider certainly had a web, but Lucky wasn’t a fly by any means. The Zeta’s beam cannons were the first to claim a victim in the duel as they shredded a third funnel, this one at the cusp of firing before being engulfed in mega particles. First and second funnels still giving chase, Tristan twirled the Zeta around, the mobile suit seemingly erupting from the jet as it transformed. The large beam rifle glowed for a second, pink energy destroying one of the two remote weapons, the survivor retaliating in like, scoring along Lucky’s shoulder before he could dodge.

The next few minutes brought the company man to a steady sweat as he destroyed funnel after funnel, only to find a new one coming after him. He knew what was happening as he yanked off his helmet, using a finger to open the neck of his normal suit to let some air in. Ryan was perfectly content to bombard him with remotes until the Zeta was too damaged to continue, or maybe, if Lucky was… well… lucky, Ryan would finish the fight in person. Contorting the Zeta to avoid another stream of energy, Lucky scanned in every direction looking for that green bastard of a mobile suit. On pure instinct alone Tristan McDowell let loose a series of shots from his beam rifle, the deadly rays aimed towards a large rock directly below his position.

---

Strain was evident across the knight’s face as he kept up the assault with the funnels. Ryan could feel the pulse of the monster migraine trying to hammer its way out of his skull from the effort of maintaining the long ranged attacks for as long as he had. Unsure of how many weapons he had lost to the Zeta and its pilot, Melchior simply took control of another funnel close to Lucky and renewed the flurry of beams that chased the damaged Zeta through the rock field.

With so much concentration devoted to controlling his remote weapons, Ryan didn’t feel the beam coming until too late. Pink energy lanced through the cruise liner-sized boulder, exploding it into a swarm of fragments that pelted the Kshatriya as its thrusters pulled it out of the hail of rock shards. The four funnels that had been harrying the Zeta fell silent as Ryan’s whole attention was on the Zeta, which already was taking aim at him again. The binders turreted, rapidly altering the Kshatriya’s direction as the thrusters built into them sent it spiraling in an attempt to avoid Lucky’s shots. All missed, save for one – it clipped the green suit’s left binder.

In the heat of combat Ryan didn’t bother to maintain his dignity as he spoke into the comm, challenging the Annapolis employee.

“You know I have guns too don’t you?”

Eight mega particle cannons, four in the chest and one in each binder, glowed for a moment as they gained the power needed to shoot at Zeta. Second later, the golden energy was loosed. One beam wiped away its target’s right arm at the elbow, another removing its left foot at the ankle, while two more just barely missed busting through its chest. Tossed around by the massive force, Zeta drifted quiet for a moment.

Relaxing at the sight of the drifting Gundam, Ryan thought the battle over as he pulled his own helmet off, letting it float in the spacious cockpit. However, his eyes nearly popped as the Zeta suddenly came to life and dove towards Kshatriya.

Tristan was not down for the count.

---

Hefting his beam rifle over the Zeta’s head, McDowell ignited the beam saber at the end of the large gun before sending it flying at Kshatriya. The energy-bladed rifle destroyed the core of a binder hastily brought to block the impromptu spear from its real target. The shot had almost been guaranteed to have torn off the newtype weapon’s head had it hit.

Yet the Kshatriya was still able to move faster than the Zeta even without the use of all four petals, and its pilot sent the Quin Mantha-prototype into another cluster of rocks. Ryan re-engaged his dormant remotes to deter the Zeta, which gave chase with an ignited beam saber. The Gundam’s head vulcans tore at the 666’s feet, simultaneously slicing through a funnel that got in his path.

It took Ryan a minute to realize that even though he could outrun the Zeta, he wasn’t going to be able to clear enough distance to hide. Rolling the large psycho-weapon to face its pursuer, the chest mounted mega cannons glowed again. At the rate he was giving chase, Lucky had no chance to avoid the four lances of energy a second time, the beams miraculously missing his cockpit as they punched through the Zeta gundarium shell, erupting from its back. Tristan, going “all in” made contact with the Kshatriya, the Zeta’s beam saber slicing through the monoeye sensor in the Kshatriya’s head, the grenade launchers mounted into the remaining forearm flipping open and finishing the job. With his Gundam already pierced by four beams, the point blank explosion of the grenades caused the Zeta to stop responding. The images that normally lined his cockpit were blurred by static, but it was still possible to see the headless hulk of Ryan’s mobile armor free-drifting as well.

“Well fought…Lucky. I think I owe you five dollars.”

Lucky shook his head in his cockpit, laughing at the Knight’s almost joke as he signaled for the salvage crews to bring the two of them back into Excalibur.

Outcome: Draw
Kshatriya: 4(3) days damage
Zeta: 4(3) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Gaia ambushes Astray Out Frame
By: Impulse

“Complacency breeds discontent, and discontent begets conflict.”

For Carl Mitchum, conflict presented opportunities. Yet another ancient border conflict was bursting into full war, as two small groups within Orb began turning their weapons on one another. Surveying the battlefield from above an elevated plateau, the Astray Out Frame hovered with the assistance of a Force Silhouette, aiming its gun camera at the chaos. With a calmly detached focus, he captured the final moments of many young men and women's lives within his lenses.

Lost in his craft, Mitchum suspected little of the danger lurking behind him. Gaia Gundam, in quadruped mode, stalked behind the Astray Out Frame, crouched like a lioness on the prowl. The young pilot, Xiss Blair Nikolov, pushed the doubts that usually attempted to overwhelm her to the back of her mind as she focused on her prey. Emerging from a tree-line, the Gaia started to gain speed, entering a trot and bursting soon into a full run. The distance between the two began closing rapidly, but Xiss remained calm as she prepared to pounce.

"Alright, now to get a couple of close-ups..." the Annapolis photo-journalist began stating to himself, sliding his hands across the Gundam’s controls as he prepared to move, his eyes never losing focus on the battlefield below. As he powered up the thrusters to move in closer to the action, a proximity alarm sounded and jolted his concentration.

"Got ya!" Xiss hissed softly out of triumph to herself, as Gaia leapt over brush and debris on the plateau and extended its Griffon 2 blades. The dark-hued Gundam soared at Out Frame, the target’s pilot too startled to react quickly enough to dodge the incoming strike. Astray lost its left arm from the shoulder down, while Gaia passed by and dropped into the gorge – alongside the severed limb.

Quickly coming to his senses, Mitchum oriented the Astray towards Gaia’s position, simultaneously locking his gun camera into a hardpoint. Moments later, the Force pack’s beam rifle was drawn and trained.

Xiss vocalized her disappointment with her prey in a short "tsk" sound, as beam blasts shot by Gaia, one-by-one. Depressing a button on the console, the Gundam shifted from quadruped mode to a true mobile suit, mid-fall, its Coordinator pilot grabbing hold of and taking careful aim with her own beam rifle. Firing once, Gaia’s shot destroyed the Astray's weapon, the resulting explosion buffeting the mobile suit in the air.

Carl struggled to keep control over his hovering unit, even as Xiss decided that this target was not worth anymore of her attention. Blasting Gaia's thrust to full, the Gundam slowed and sat down at the bottom of the valley, converting to quadruped mode once more and dashing off in search of better prey.

Inside the Out Frame, Mitchum decided to call this particular shoot to an early end. It was one thing to view combat through the objectivity of a camera lens; it was quite another to be challenged by a clearly superior foe. Flipping a switch on his console, he made contact with the rest of his team. "Miss Rosseau, I'll be coming in early tonight. Have the maintenance crew standing by, I've taken some damage."

Turning the Astray Out Frame, Mitchum left the skirmish to play out as it may, disappointed he couldn't capture the true essence of the battle, but realizing he risked losing what he already had if he stayed.

Outcome: Gaia wins, Astray Out Frame loses
Gaia: No damage
Astray Out Frame: 2 days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Ebirhu-S versus Beta Azieru
By: Victory 2

“Where the hell could he be? This is getting ridiculous.” Scanning the sensors of the Ebirhu-S for what felt like the hundredth time, Scarth Maheart sighed. The console responded in the same fashion as it had for the past hour. There was no sign of Brandon Heat or the Destiny Gundam. Scarth leaned back into his pilot’s chair, closed his eyes, and tried to relax. A brilliant flare of light against his closed lids jolted him to full awareness, and he peered about to determine its source.

The Ebirhu-S stood upon a massive plain dotted with smooth black glass, a giant cavern deep within the bowels of Maat Mons. The giant outcropping thrust upwards more than eight kilometers above the surface of Venus, molten lava spraying high into the Venusian sky. Yet the chaotic outer surface of fire and stone hid a thriving order inside, befitting the Egyptian goddess that lent her name to the mountain. Obsidian was more factory than base, but nevertheless its inhabitants prospered and went about their business refining the rare minerals found under this volcano.

In the distance, transit trucks from the several Darkshield Drill mining stations rumbled underneath environmental control canopies. It was the only way, Scarth knew, he could safely transport materiel to be processed without exposing the operation to open sky. Which was, he mused momentarily, obviously unacceptable for reasons both obvious to his superiors… and some that were a tad more subtle.

Partially out of view, the Jade Dragon warship rested upon protective heat-resistant struts. Nestled next to its side, like a scared child, was the transit ship of the Company’s supervisor. Even now, Scarth knew, Cygorg would be “fixing” a recently discovered thruster malfunction. Eventually he would need a more permanent solution, but Scarth knew his suit was still, for the moment, his.

The Ebirhu rested a half-kilometer from the base, and its left shoulder swung about in a search for the source of the flash. Scarth hardly needed to look far. Nearby squatted the massive Beta Azieru. The mobile armor’s red tones blended with the broiling magma that poured into several huge pools about the grotto. Just now, however, it was easy to spot as it raked the rivers of flame with its beam weaponry. Another salvo sent magma splashing dozens of meters into the air, and the brightness of the blast singed Scarth’s sight momentarily. The tall Italian pilot shook his head to clear the spots, as his comm. unit crackled.

“I’m bored, Maheart. This is stupid,” Chris Butler intoned. He paused his attacks on the flows and scanned the cave one final time. “Look, let’s just get started without Brandon – there’s plenty of heat around here, anyway.” Grinning at his pun, he initiated a full power-up sequence, hoping it would instigate Scarth to do the same. Butler listened to the whine of the engines as the Beta Azieru’s massive power plant came online. He figured that his little display was worth at least a quick shot on the local evening news – though of course he planned to put on much more of a show before the day was out.

Scarth blinked, twice, his vision finally clearing. As the Azieru lifted off in front of him, he decided he had no choice but to engage his own suit’s power. After all, there would be other battles – the Destiny could wait. The suit’s thrusters fired, and he rose towards his enormous opponent, looking almost comically small in comparison. Though his mind momentarily flashed back to a fateful day more than three years past, his hands were sure as they flew across his controls.

“Let’s kick this pig!” Chris shouted, glad to finally get underway. He loosed his funnels, and the remote weapons streaked to meet the approaching Ebirhu. In response, Scarth brought up his left arm, and machinegun fire blasted out. First one, then another funnel fell victim to the shells, but the remainder reached their target and lit up the area with beam fire. The Ebirhu-S was forced to dodge wildly to avoid getting shot to pieces, but Scarth still managed to destroy another pair of funnels while maneuvering. His machinegun spat rounds time and again, and the casings often fell into the molten rock, bursting briefly into flame before disappearing.

Inside his cockpit, Chris concentrated. A small bead of sweat dripped from his forehead, landing on his lip. The salty taste distracted him momentarily, and he winced, as yet another funnel fell victim to the tiny whirling dervish the Ebirhu-S appeared to be. Refocusing, he allowed himself a small grin as one of his shots finally struck home, a glancing blow that eradicated much of the Ebirhu-S’s advanced extra sensor package. A second blast struck true, but it did little more than burn off some paint on the Ebirhu-S’s leg.

Scarth knew he would lose a war of attrition, and bid his time. After avoiding several more waves of beam fire, the Azieru sent several of its funnels racing back towards the giant mobile armor, needing to recharge. This was the opening Scarth had been waiting for, and he dashed after them in pursuit. A remaining pair gave chase to him, creating an odd tableaux: several small funnels fleeing towards the mother suit, while the Ebirhu-S raced after them, followed all the while by yet more funnels.

Letting his attention on the leading funnels wane for a moment, Scarth flipped around to face the trailing weapons. Cutting his thrusters abruptly, he watched as his pursuers zoomed by. Chris struggled to control the two separate groups of funnels with great accuracy, and Scarth took advantage. Aiming carefully with his beam spray gun, the younger pilot fired. The mega particles scattered, slamming into both funnels and sending them careening to the cave floor.

Chris swore and turned his nearly depleted funnels around, hoping to strike a killing blow. Before he could get off a single shot, the Ebirhu-S swung its arm, and the shot lancer whistled forward in a mighty cut, sending the lance straight through one remote weapon. Not pausing for an instant, Scarth flicked a trigger, and the lancer’s front half sped out. The projectile slammed into the Beta Azieru, boring into its upper half. A series of small explosions followed in its wake, pushing the huge armor backwards.

‘I think I’ve had just about enough of this,’ thought Chris. As the Ebirhu-S’s second lance tip slid forward and locked into place, Scarth looked to aim right next to the cockpit and force the Beta Azieru to shutdown. His moment of hesitation before firing served only to give Mr. Butler the opening he needed. Aiming more with his newtype senses than with his eyes, he opened fire with his entire arsenal of beam weaponry. The funnels, totally out of energy, fell to the cavern, but the mega arms, scattering mega particle gun, mega particle guns and beam guns all unleashed a torrent of Minovsky particles that sped across the open space.

The weapon blasts streaked at the Ebirhu-S, melting pockets of the dark glass that gave the nearby base its name. Scarth cursed and ignited his thrusters, jumping backwards and above the path of the attacks. However, he had failed to account for the irregularities of the arena in which he now battled. Streaking above one bubbling crater filled with fire, his suit slammed hard into a jutting piece of rock, and he lost control of the Ebirhu-S. One engine flared wildly, sending him into a tailspin, and he soon found himself tumbling directly towards the pool of magma. “Oh sh…”

*CRUNCH*

An incredible impact sent Scarth smashing forward against his restraints, and as his head snapped back it slammed on his cockpit seat. Woozy, he tried to piece together what had happened. Putting one hand to the back of his head, it came back slick with blood. Laughter filled his ears, and for a brief moment he wondered if it could be the arrival of the reaper, come to bring him to Crystal. Then the cotton between his ears evaporated, and he exhaled a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding.

“Think THIS’ll make the evening news, Scarth?” Chris crowed, almost as much to himself as to his compatriot. The Ebirhu-S was pinned to the wall by a giant wire-guided arm, the extremity totally crushing the Ebirhu’s groin. The Beta Azieru carefully maneuvered its other limb below the smaller suit in order to catch it. Pulling back the restraining limb, Chris could see that the majority of the Ebirhu-S’s lower half was demolished. The suit nevertheless fell safely on top of the mobile armor’s makeshift platform, and was whisked quickly away from its nearly literal death in a blaze of glory. The Beta Azieru moved to return to Obsidian, as Chris Butler’s comm. system flickered with life.

“Chris, I have never been happier in my life to get punched in the balls.”

Outcome: Beta Azieru wins, Ebirhu-S loses
Beta Azieru: 2(1) days damage
Ebirhu-S: 3(2) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Super Hyperion versus Divine Providence
By: Perfect Zeong

“Ah, what a charming view…” Atra Caelium said aloud. The thin atmosphere, extremely high altitude and minimal light pollution at the top of Olympus Mons presented an extraordinary set of stars in the night sky. Their positions were different from what he remembered – Atra had done all of his stargazing on Earth, and Mars’ distant orbit meant that the alignments of many of them were not where he expected them to be. Nevertheless, that was simply an excuse to get out more and check out the sky. It would certainly help him avoid Vladimir’s incessant paranoia, at least…

Atra was thoroughly enjoying the new seat in his Super Hyperion Gundam – the old one hadn’t really been very comfortable. Of course, that was just one of the many new toys his machine had to offer, though he hadn’t really had time to test any of them. However, that would all change today…

“Where is that guy, anyway? He’s going to be late for our rematch…” Atra noted, checking a digital clock on one of his monitors. Formerly, that had been used to display the remaining operational time of the mobile suit while the “Armure Lumiere” lightwave shield was activated. Now, it served a much more benign purpose as a simple timepiece, as the Hyperion was no longer limited to a few minutes of activity. That much he was especially thankful for. The last time they had crossed swords, it was in the bowels of the McKinley base back on Earth – seemed like a lifetime ago. Now they were on a new planet, beneath a new mountain, and under new stars (as far as their positions went, anyway…).

“So, you’ve come,” Dreyson Bly’s flat voice came over his radio.

“I’ve yet to get you back from our last bout,” Atra responded, turning his mobile suit around. “Did you expect otherwise?” Dreyson’s also-recently completed Divine Providence hung in the air like a doll, a massive thruster backwash from its legs and backpack creating a notable silhouette. Much like his own mobile suit, Dreyson’s looked little different externally – its backpack had grown even larger, and more DRAGOON units festooned from its body. Otherwise, there wasn’t much in the way of obvious changes. Not like that was necessarily indicative of what it was capable of, in any case…

“No,” Dreyson responded in his usual blunt, to-the-point fashion. He cracked his knuckles and made a few final adjustments to the resistance of the controls – they felt too sensitive to him, and he didn’t want any throttles or pedals being jammed all the way to full when he wasn’t expecting them to.

“I see your mobile suit’s ass is as big as ever,” Atra noted with a somewhat immature smirk. “You ready?” Dreyson didn’t respond verbally; he simply began launching his DRAGOONs. Atra decided to interpret that as a “yes.”

---

Miles below, Vladimir Antonov reclined in the high-backed designer leather chair that sat behind his desk. The wall opposite him was dominated by a giant flat panel display, which was subdivided into a variety of smaller images – security camera feeds both inside and outside the base, technical readouts of work at the production facilities, news broadcasts and so forth.

“Dr. Antonov,” a female voice emitted from a multifunction intercom/video integrated into the desk.

“What?” he responded in a somewhat lackadaisical tone.

“There’s a battle occurring on the western slope of the caldera,” the nameless liaison said. “Figured you would want to know.”

“I see,” Vladimir said, pressing a button on the device. The individual images were quickly replaced by a feed of the two dueling mobile suits. Bly and that shifty fellow, is it? Interesting…Vladimir leaned forward, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

---

The sheer barrage of firepower issuing forth from Dreyson’s upgraded DRAGOONs was staggering. The small cloud of remote weapons produced a nearly constant stream of charged particles – the area between Hyperion and Providence’s weapons had a greater volume of beams than atmosphere.

“Nice light show,” Atra commented rather dryly. His Armure Lumiere barrier, now with an unlimited operational time, bounced the incredible firestorm off it, ricocheting off in every direction. Dreyson frowned as a single one of his own beams dissolved the edge of his mobile suit’s shoulder. The snow and some of the rock beneath it had been totally melted by the barrage save for a small patch beneath Hyperion’s feet. “Are we done yet?”

Irritating…what’s the point of having such an arsenal if that damn shield of his reflects everything? Dreyson pondered. His attack would have shredded an entire battleship by now, but Atra hadn’t so much as flinched. What’s more, based on Dreyson’s gathering, he’d be able to maintain the barrier for the foreseeable future.

“Heh, alright then, I suppose it’s my turn now?” Atra grinned, producing a beam machine gun. In what seemed like a repeat of their first duel, Dreyson scowled as he began losing DRAGOONs one at a time. This time, however, he knew a charge into close combat would be meaningless – Atra’s barrier wouldn’t be dropping at an opportune moment for him to finish Hyperion off.

Wait a minute…Dreyson thought, increasing magnification of the Super Hyperion’s body. He maneuvered a single DRAGOON directly in front of Atra’s line of fire, and it was promptly destroyed – as intended. Bits of debris from the remote weapon struck the lightwave shield and were crisped, save for one that struck one of the vertices of the polyhedral shield. It harmlessly bounced off and landed on the dirt, tumbling a distance before coming to a halt. Ah hah! So it isn’t perfect after all…

“I’m coming after you once I finish off your little toys, you know,” Atra said, swatting down another one.

“Too confidant in that barrier of yours,” Dreyson replied, focusing on the same vertex and blasting it with one of the large DRAGOON units. The tiny triangular emitter was an extraordinarily small target for a mobile suit, no bigger than a large dog, and the great spray of beams refracted off the barrier, save for one. The single projectile hit the emitter dead center, fragmenting the device; the beam continued through but did not strike Hyperion’s body. The faces of the barrier surrounding that vertex flickered, faded, and then disappeared entirely, leaving a not insignificant hole. Dreyson pointed his huge Judicium beam rifle at the breach.

How did he hit that?! Atra mentally exclaimed. They’re so miniscule!

“Okay, so you hampered my shield a bit,” Atra conceded. “Not a problem, it just means I can’t stand here like a nice little bulls-eye for you!” Dreyson fired as Atra boosted into the air. The shot struck the Hyperion’s left arm, blasting it apart at the bicep, but failing to do any significant damage to either the mobile suit or its combat capability in general. Atra responded in kind, replying with automatic fire from his own weapon. Dreyson intercepted the barrage with his beam shield and continued taking shots at the airborne Hyperion, but now that it was moving, his chances of scoring further hits through his window of opportunity were becoming terribly limited – he didn’t even entertain the idea of going after the emitters again.

“Quit dancing around already…” Dreyson grumbled, throttling up his massive thruster banks and going after Atra. He now had a good enough reason to get closer; if he couldn’t land a shot through that breach, he could certainly thrust a beam javelin in. The bulbous-backed Providence soared above the caldera, quickly closing the distance between it and Hyperion, remaining DRAGOONs following after it like a swarm of gnats.

Damn, that thing got faster too? Atra frowned, peppering it with beam machine gun again. The blocky, heavyset Gundam was still gaining altitude, while he himself was beginning to feel the inexorable pull of gravity already.

“The lightwave barrier isn’t all that this Super Hyperion can do, you know!” Atra proclaimed, switching his targeting system over to the over-the-shoulder Forfanterie beam cannons and giving Dreyson a sample of them as well. Dreyson blocked both with his beam shield, but the power of the blast was enough to overload the emitter, causing it to shut down to prevent damage to itself.

Did not know it had those, Dreyson noted. Lacking the best of its defensive measures, Dreyson opted to use it in an offensive format, opening up with both its mounted beam guns to add to the beam rifle’s fusillade. Yet another lucky shot passed through the gap in the barrier, and the left side Forfanterie in the process. Electricity played over the weapon as its condensers rapidly overloaded; the cannon, Hyperion’s left shoulder, and the relevant Armure Lumiere emitters exploded in a massive blast, scorching the adjacent side of the mobile suit’s head and torso. Fully a third of the lightwave barrier fizzled, exposing a substantial portion of the Gundam’s left side.

“GAH!” Atra exclaimed as damage readouts appeared over its monitors. “Wreck my barrier, will you! How about this, then?!” Letting the machine gun dangle from the power cable attached to the Hyperion’s torso, Atra drew a beam knife and ignited its blade.

“…you’re going to attack me with that toy?” Dreyson quirked an eyebrow rather incredulously, taking a bead on the exposed sections of Atra’s mobile suit. Grinning, Atra pointed the blade at him, which suddenly blasted off the handle like a rocket, embedding itself in Providence’s beam rifle. “What?!”

“A toy, is it?” Atra asked, tossing the useless handle and grabbing another one. Furious, Dreyson discarded the beam rifle before its power unit exploded and raised his shield-mounted guns, just in time to catch another rocket-propelled knife blade in it as well. Fortunately, the shield did not explode – however, Dreyson got no response from his triggers, and the arm went limp. Hyperion sailed past him heading for the ground below, Atra yanking on the power cable of its machine gun to get it back in hand while firing his thrusters to cushion his landing.

Just got to get around the one side of him! Dreyson thought, recalling his DRAGOONs. They had no need to recharge – the deuterium beam energy system would keep them topped off theoretically indefinitely. However, the powerful subflight capabilities of his new backpack’s thrusters proved faster than the DRAGOONs’ own propulsion (in atmosphere, at any rate), and now without both beam rifle and shield, they were his only heavy weapons. Dreyson aimed himself towards the caldera and charged downwards, intent on getting as close as possible before launching his DRAGOONs again. Atra quite literally would be unable to defend himself from all sides this time, and he knew it, too.

“I wouldn’t write me off yet,” Atra posited, firing off another shot from his remaining beam cannon before resuming suppression fire with the machine gun. With his shield arm inoperative, Dreyson had to try to avoid the salvo manually, a feat that wouldn’t be easy at his ballistic trajectory. The cannon’s projectile went wide, but he sustained numerous hits from the machine gun, including several to the backpack’s protruding areas. Dreyson cursed, but what really began to get him worried was the string of fluctuations on the reactor output gauge. First the total output fell, then it rose, then it fell again before rebounding to twice where it had been before. Evidently, something hadn’t agreed very well with being perforated.

Well, this certainly limits my options…Dreyson thought. He had certainly hoped to sample the backpack’s most unique capability under more positive circumstances, but he was nothing if not pragmatic. Detaching his remaining DRAGOON units, Dreyson continued barreling down on Atra’s position.

Is he going to fly right into me!? Atra’s mind raced. With those monstrous engines and gravity on Dreyson’s side, he certainly wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time, and even if Dreyson ran the risk of immolating himself on the Armure Lumiere, Atra certainly didn’t want to be nearby when the heavy mobile suit cooked off. Better make this count! Atra lined up his beam cannon and fired again.

There! Dreyson announced, striking the separate button. Amid a cacophony of mechanical clattering noises, Providence’s backpack popped off its back and achieved flight on its own. Dreyson flung the Gundam’s legs forward and blasted his thrusters, killing its velocity. The backpack caught the full force of the blast and began falling apart, but held together just long enough to crash into Hyperion’s lightwave barrier. Atra braced himself as the reactor exploded, immediately obscuring Hyperion amid a great fireball.

“God, he’s insane!” Atra exclaimed, hoping his mobile suit would hold together. The great over-pressurization elicited worrying creaking noises from the Gundam’s frame, but, miraculously, the Armure Lumiere held. The blast subsided, and Atra had survived relatively intact. “A kamikaze attack? How noble of you!” he growled, emboldened by the admirable performance of his barrier. Before he had time to re-acquire what was left of Dreyson’s mobile suit, a pair of DRAGOONs suddenly appeared before him, having closed the distance before the blast subsided. “Oh, is that all? Well-” he was cut off as the plasma-sheathed units slammed into the lightwave barrier, and instead of being annihilated, smashed clear through that facet and into the mobile suit behind it! One took off Hyperion’s head and a slice of its upper torso while the other obliterated the Gundam’s right thigh and a substantial piece of the other. Hyperion crashed to the ground in a heap, its Armure Lumiere barrier finally giving out.

Without his backpack, Dreyson couldn’t maintain flight, and landed sharply nearby. He quickly went to retrieve one of his beam javelins, but found it to be unnecessary.

“Okay, okay, now I’m written off,” Atra muttered. His machine gun was still operational, and he might have been able to keep Dreyson off him, but it was more than likely a futile gesture, and in any case, his mobile suit had been thrashed enough as was.

Outcome: Divine Providence wins, Super Hyperion loses
Divine Providence: 3 (2) days damage
Super Hyperion: 4 (3) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Ashtaron versus Physalis Type B
By: Perfect Zeong

Meanwhile, on the other side of the caldera, another spar of sorts was taking place.

“Gagh, so many missiles…!” Dietrich Butcher exclaimed, throwing his Ashtaron mobile armor into an aileron roll and following up with a dive as a swarm of missiles shot up from the ground, some exploding angrily behind him, others turning and continuing their pursuit. Without the constant duty of keeping an eye on his overly-ambitious younger brother, Dietrich found himself yet again curious about the capabilities of another’s mobile suit, and inevitably challenged its proprietor to a training match. Perhaps one with less artillery would have been a better choice…

“Yes, it is quite a complement, isn’t it,” Edgar Weinglas beamed, thoroughly enjoying his improved mobile suit already. The GP02 Physalis, now upgraded with Type B equipment, was a veritable artillery mobile suit in the truest sense of the word. Depleted, a canister jettisoned from his mobile suit’s back and buried itself in the snow behind him with a loud “thud.” Five more still festooned the Gundam’s rear. “Let’s see, which one shall we use next…”

“Don’t dwaddle too long,” Dietrich suggested, evading the remaining missiles by quickly pulling up and running them into the ground. Ashtaron sailed across the rim of the caldera, throwing up a rooster tail of snow behind it; with its atomic scissors deployed, it was scarcely a man’s height from the ground. “Be decisive or you may regret it!”

“Decisive…” Edgar repeated, noting the rapidly approaching mobile armor. “Right then! Another helping of missiles, I believe.” A second micromissile tube shot out of a canister, only gaining a minor altitude before snapping open and flinging forth another thirty-odd missiles Dietrich’s way. These fanned out and approached from a level trajectory, exploding all around him. Dietrich began strafing the Ashtaron from side to side (closer to a slaloming, given the terrain), and successfully evaded the second barrage as well.

“That certainly looked impressive, but it wasn’t very useful…” Dietrich commented, lining up his crosshairs on the Physalis. Two missiles landed right in front of him, blasting a wall of snow and rocks into his face and obscuring his vision. None too pleased, Dietrich fired his half-dozen beam cannons in rapid succession, parting the cloud of airborne soil in front of him. The blasts caused another eruption of snow and rock, but his target had vanished, save for a smoke trail heading skyward. It can fly now? Dietrich pondered, Ashtaron’s mono-eye following the trail up. Edgar had indeed made good on his escape; what grabbed Dietrich’s attention more was the rope-like object landing in the snow in front of him. “A string?” Dietrich wondered, pulling up and beginning to gain altitude to give chase. Just as he did so, it seemed as if the entire world became an explosion as the “string,” in reality a demolition chain, blew up.

“Ooh, that worked nicely,” Edgar noted approvingly from above. He ejected the third canister and began descending, but was somewhat disappointed when the Ashtaron came bouncing and tumbling out of the impressive blast radius. The heavily armored Gundam was battered and beaten but still very much functional.

“Ouch… that wasn’t very nice at all,” Dietrich grumbled, completing the Ashtaron’s transformation to mobile suit mode and rising to his feet. Edgar’s Physalis slammed into the ground some distance away.

“It even lands nicely…” Edgar commented.

“Somewhat overconfident, aren’t we?” Dietrich stated, drawing his beam crossbow in one hand and beam saber in the other, then began boosting towards Edgar’s position.

“Not at all,” Edgar grinned, drawing a beam saber of his own. He fired his last micromissile pod to cover his advance, then boosted as well. Edgar was absolutely itching to try out his new beam bazooka, but he’d have to wait until he had an opportunity against a less melee-oriented opponent.

“With that many missiles, I can see why not…” Dietrich muttered, wincing at the oncoming swarm. Diverting his attention from the Physalis, Dietrich began salvoing his claw-mounted beam cannons, striking some of the corkscrewing warheads as they sailed towards him. Fratricide took out most of them, but a handful struck true, further buffeting Ashtaron about. One struck its arm, sending the beam crossbow flying out of its hand and embedding it in the ground like a lawn dart. I NEVER get to use that thing!! Dietrich thought wistfully before getting back to the matter at hand. As Edgar closed to melee range, Dietrich wound up one atomic scissor and fired its built-in rockets, thrusting it forward in a powerful blow. Edgar blocked with his great shield, causing the claw to embed itself deeply into it, and followed up with his beam saber. Dietrich parried with his own, producing a small cascade of sparks.

“You didn’t think I’d be a pushover in close combat, did you?” Edgar posited, leaning in to try and gain the advantage.

“Not a pushover, but you’re certainly no match for me,” Dietrich noted, making good on his claim with a blow from his other scissor claw; the Physalis’ right shoulder binder flew through the air, clattering to a rest some distance away. “Hm, looks somewhat unbalanced now… better take off the other one too.” Dietrich abruptly sidestepped Edgar’s Gundam and immediately yanked back his claw; or at least, he attempted to. The scissor simply refused to dislodge itself from Edgar’s shield.

“I think not,” Edgar noted, taking advantage of Dietrich’s momentary surprise to hack the claw’s attaching arm off, separating it from the Ashtaron’s backpack entirely.

“You…!” Dietrich frowned, walloping the Physalis with the side of its remaining claw. The loss of its shoulder binder further exacerbated the imbalance due to the large (and now claw-sporting) shield, and Edgar nearly toppled over. A swift kick from the Ashtaron’s substantial foot certainly did the job, however, bowling it face-first into the ground. Dietrich flipped his beam saber over, blade now pointing downward, and made good on “balancing” the Physalis by severing the other binder as well. “Much better.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now,” Edgar said, rolling over. “You’re kind of unbalanced too.”

“Let’s see you do something about it, then,” Dietrich replied. Suddenly, he noticed the GP02’s beam saber lay discarded in the snow, rapidly melting the ice around it. “What, are you giving up?”

“Not quite,” Edgar replied, whipping a beam rifle out from behind his shield and leveling it at the Ashtaron’s chest. “Though, there might be some ‘giving up’ in this dialogue.”

“A hidden gun, I see…” Dietrich sighed. “Is there any part of your Gundam that isn’t a gimmick?”

Outcome: Physalis Type B wins, Ashtaron loses
Physalis Type B: 3 (2) days damage
Ashtaron: 3 (2) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Memories of Stardust
By: Perfect Zeong

No screw-ups this time, Erebus Gethen mentally noted. Now satisfied that his Mirage Colloid stealth system would indeed mask low-impulse thruster emissions, his approach for another run on Stardust was proving much less nerve-wracking. What was beginning to bother him, however, was the lack of scattered patrols. A boon against conventional enemy attacks, but little more than targets for Erebus’ Blitz Gundam, their sudden disappearance was not making Erebus feel as confidant about this run as his last. Something was amiss…

“I wonder if they’re on to me…” Erebus pondered. So far he hadn’t heard or seen so much as a peep out of the colony, and it was somewhat unsettling. His approach to the colony was going much more smoothly – no enemy encounters, and no prejudging flight plans without the use of altitude thrusters. Erebus went through another checklist of his weapons and defensive systems to try and keep his mind off the situation.

---

The commander sat with crossed arms and legs, tapping his one foot back and forth subconsciously and with furrowed brows. After the loss of six mobile suits a few days prior, he was far more apprehensive about his authority over the colony. Only one sneaky interloper had wrecked a not insignificant portion of his garrison, and that was most unpleasing to him and had left the officer with a very sour personality, at least for the interim.

“Where’s the south garrison’s report? They’re half a minute behind schedule!” the commander demanded, checking his watch.

“I’m sure they’ll have it in any moment,” the communications officer asserted, reviewing the logs of recent messages. Sure enough, the report arrived a few moments later – no hostile activity. “Confirmed, nothing unusual to report.” For the fiftieth time…the officer mentally mumbled.

“Continue regular reporting, and tell them to be on schedule this time!!” the commander demanded, scowling intensively.

---

Erebus’ Blitz Gundam landed perfectly on the surface of the colony, firing his maneuvering jets to minimize shock and vibrations of his feet on impact. Satisfied with his landing, he switched on a set of electromagnets in Blitz’s foot plates and began “tip-toeing” across the colony’s outer wall, heading for the north end of the cylinder. On his previous, somewhat abortive expedition, he had concluded that the command center was at the northern end of the colony, and that was his first objective. If the communications and relay facilities were knocked out, picking apart the garrison would be fairly easy.

“Except for those white bastards,” Erebus noted disparagingly, heading over the edge of the flat length of the colony and around the rounded cap at the end. The space dock poked out over the miniature horizon like a square thumb.

---

“Stupid double shifts…” a Leo pilot muttered. “What’s the deal with the commander, anyway?”

“Yeah, I know,” another replied. “After that terrorist attack, you’d think he thinks we’re all out to get him…”

“Can it you assbags!” the unit leader barked, pointing accusingly at the two who had been chatting. “The commander ordered stepped-up security and that’s what he’s going to get!”

“Sorry, sir,” one conceded, peering back out the space dock. Under the commander’s orders, the Leos were all packing beam rifles and shields save for the unit leader; his personal cannon-armed unit equipped a dobergun. Half the Leo force had been split up between the two space docks, while the Croudas and Moebius units were retained around the command center to provide extra security and respond to possible incursions.

“Hey… did you see something just now?” one asked.

“No,” the unit leader flatly replied. “Now quit babbling and keep your eyes peeled or I’ll have you running laps around the barracks again!”

---

Suckers…Erebus thought as he deftly floated over the Space Leo contingent, extending his mobile suit’s hands to touch off the opposing wall and kill his minimal velocity. He had to admire the level of preparedness put forth by the remaining garrison. The T-juncture entrance to the space dock not only had a set of mobile suits sitting near the dock itself – the leg of the “T” – but also has a group around the corner on both sides. Even if something were to get past those sitting on the outside, they’d be hit from both sides by the four flanking Leos. Unfortunately for them, Erebus’ Blitz was just the mobile suit necessary for breaching such a defense.

“Hmm… beam rifles, is it?” he said, sizing up the Leos’ weapons. “There’s an idea.” Pushing off the wall, Erebus glided slowly along the ceiling heading down the left-hand side of the junction. He reflexively held his breath as he passed over two of the Leos, again coming to rest against the wall – the pair remained unaware of his presence. He knew he’d have to move quickly if this was going to work, but he was confidant he could pull it off. Erebus switched on the fire controls for his lancer darts, then ignited his beam saber. The heads of both Leos went flying off, predictably eliciting startled responses from those on the other end of the corridor. A dart immediately penetrated both, pinning them to the wall. Four down! Erebus noted, stomping both feet against the floor; the disabled Leos’ beam rifles flew into the air, where he caught both. The remaining trio bounded around the corner to investigate the attacks on their comrades, and each was promptly holed by Erebus’ absconded beam rifles.

---

That same pressure…the Crouda unit leader frowned. He anticipated the command center would figure out what had transpired within minutes, but he wasn’t content to wait around for inevitable orders.

“We’re moving out, boys! That sneaky bastard is back!” he ordered – his Crouda’s mono-eye flared to life, as did those of his teammates. Beam rifles at the ready, the five-man unit split from their positions near the command center and made speed for the space dock.

---

“Well, that worked better than I thought it would,” Erebus grinned, discarding the two stolen weapons. Just as he turned to head down the corridor, a hint of movement caught the edge of his vision. Two figures bailed out of their disabled mobile suits’ cockpits and began barreling for a human-scaled door not far from where their machines had crumpled. Erebus stuck the two to the wall with a blast of adhesive goo from one of the utility devices in his mobile suit’s hand, then got back to his task of further infiltrating the colony.

“The longer it takes them to figure out I’m here, the easier this’ll be,” he noted, heading down the corridor. “Now where’s the damn command center…”

---

“Lieutenant, what the hell are you doing?!” the commander yelled into his headset. “Get back to your post!”

“We’ve been invaded,” the Crouda leader responded flatly. “I’m going to fix the problem.”

“How do you know that?!” he demanded, slamming his fist against the armrest.

“I know,” the officer responded. “Check in with the unit in the space dock if you don’t believe me. Out.” The transmission was ended on the remote end.

“Insolence!” the commander exclaimed, pitching the headset to the floor. “Call the MPs, I want that son of a bitch arrested as soon as he gets back!” The security officer nodded.

“Ah, actually, commander…” the communications officer began. “The north garrison’s report is over three minutes behind schedule…”

“…what?!”

---

A pair of heavy blast doors gave Erebus a fairly plain “heads up” notice – he was getting deeper into areas of the space dock that were intended to be high security.

“Command center can’t be far…” he stated, slipping between the huge doors. Apparently this area was pressurized – his external pickups informed him as such by the sound of his altitude control thrusters. Just ahead was an L-shaped joint in the corridor – what caught his attention, however, was the sudden occurrence of a high-pitched whining noise that grew progressively louder. What’s more, it was coming from behind him. “Hell…” he muttered; Erebus knew that noise. He whipped around in time to see a pair of Croudas emerge from around the blast doors, beam rifles firing already. Erebus fired his jets and propelled himself backwards, aiming to get around the corner. Despite the fierce barrage, Blitz sustained only two minor hits; the great majority were near misses, chewing up holes in the walls. Can they not actually see me? Erebus thought. He’d have time to consider if more after he escaped. Wait… there were five of those things last time…Erebus recalled as he rounded the corner. Another hailstorm of beams greeted him as the three other Croudas opened fire on him.

“Gagh! What is with these guys?!” Erebus wailed, desperately trying to fight his way out with his integrated beam rifle. One Crouda’s arm was severed from its body, but its compatriots responded in kind; Blitz’s own limb clattered to the ground as its Mirage Colloid stealth system fizzled out. The two that originally appeared cut their engines and held their positions about five mobile suits’ length away, leveling their guns at him. The other three stopped firing and began approaching on foot. Nine rifles were now pointing at his position. “Well… that didn’t go quite as well as planned…” Erebus muttered. With only his rocket-propelled anchor left, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. Erebus ejected the Gleipnir and raised his remaining arm, indicating he had no weapons left. Hopefully they’d be as humanitarian as he had.

---

The doors to the command center split, allowing the Crouda leader, several MPs, and Erebus to enter. He had been relieved of his helmet and his hands were bound behind his back with a cable tie, but he was otherwise unharmed.

“Reporting as ordered, sir,” the Crouda leader saluted sharply, then gestured to Erebus. “As I said, I fixed the problem.”

“So, this is the one responsible for all the damage…” the commander frowned, looking over the emerald-eyed fellow.

“Your security could use some work,” Erebus smirked; the commander’s face contorted angrily, his hands forming into fists.

“Boy, if you had ANY idea how much paperwork I’m going to have to deal with because of you and your little joyriding…” he seethed. “Throw him in a cell! If he struggles, kick his ass!” The MPs saluted, hauling Erebus off.

“Good determination in that guy,” the Crouda leader remarked. “I admire his tenacity.”

“Oh shut up,” the commander growled. “This isn’t the time for sentimentality.”

Outcome: Stardust remains
Blitz: 2 days damage | Pilot captured (250.000.c ransom)

___________________________________________________________________________
Freedom & METEOR versus Sichel
By: Victory 2 Assault-Buster

“What are you?”

Raelin Kiley Alexander’s eyes ran up and down the length of her new ‘present.’ The shadows within the hangar seemed drawn towards the dark mobile suit, which stood in the center of the room. Her sight was attracted to a slip of paper attached to its feet; Raelin took a slow step forward, careful not to disturb the spiritual feel of the moment. Grabbing the note, she turned it over in her hands. She recognized the blocky form of the letters, the two dabs of ink where the pen had been cleaned. She even felt, for a moment, as though she could hear his voice.

“To Raelin…”

Her eyes burned, though she was unsure if it was from joy or sorrow. With shaking fingers, she pressed the note to her chest. The motion caused a slight tinkling of metal, and Raelin felt the rosary slip from inside her sleeve. Dangling from her wrist, it glinted in the ambient light, reminding her that she had duties to perform. Drake’s Legacy would not be revived while she stood around reminiscing. Gritting her teeth, Raelin straightened herself, and looked at the message from her father once more.

“To Raelin,

A hero must walk many paths of darkness, before finally coming to the light. – Liam Duncan Alexander.”

As she read the lines, the young woman felt a surge of – something – power? – emanate from the unit itself. The light in the room seemed to brighten for a moment, then shrink to almost nothing. The shadows spiraled across the contours of Raelin’s new suit, seemingly pulsating with a life of their own. She shook her head, wondering if she was becoming delusional. Memories of her father could wait. For now, she was the Shadow of the Legacy… and she had a brand new toy.

- - -

The linguine pescatore wasn’t bad, but patrons rarely chose the Bistro for its food. James Matthew Eldredge picked at one particularly troublesome clam, finally dislodging the morsel of meat and devouring it happily. He leaned back in his seat, and the unique chair reclined to a near-horizontal position. As he took a pull on a Peroni Grande Reserva, he savored the rich taste of the full-flavored lager and listened to the soft snores of his ‘dining partner.’

Captain Yamazaki had several such bottles strewn across the table in front of him, empty. The ship chieftain was passed out in his recliner seat, breaths coming jerkily. James shook his head, knowing that the potency of the brew was greater than some might assume. At a nearby table, Sean regaled half a dozen women with some obviously fabricated tale of derring-do, yet they sighed and squealed at the appropriate moments.

Above them all, high in the ‘sky’, could be seen the reason for the Bistro’s unusual seats. Flashing like a second sun, a thousand and one displays relayed information at a rate that one might think could drive a human mad. They lit up what would have been the blackness of space at night, turning it into a madcap venue for sales pitches and entertainment efforts. Briefly, one particularly lascivious advertisement lit the space within James’s field of vision, making him wonder if he shouldn’t join Sean’s party. But he decided against it, and soon a spinning globe, which relayed the day’s news through both text and video imagery, replaced that image. “Blitz captured at Stardust.”

The shrieking of victory and the cries of defeat mixed together in the air of the Neo Las Vegas colony. Holographic villains threatened passers-by, while animatronic stars of ages ago breathily whispered of forbidden pleasures. Buildings rose everywhere, towering above the teeming streets. A giant cred-coin spun about the top of a series of interlinked skyscrapers, and one structure even rose a half-kilometer into the air in the shape of a massive mobile suit (the Annex Seventy-Eight was particularly popular with vacationing pilots, and the red ‘shield’ housed the world’s largest indoor swimming pool).

James smiled, and leaned forward to take another bite of his now-cold dinner. As the noodles wrapped themselves about his fork, his attention was diverted when a well-dressed man of middling age approached his table. The lights of the colony seemed to sparkle against the horn-rimmed frame of his glasses, and his thin-lipped smile failed to reach his eyes. He gripped the back of an empty seat and, after examining the incapacitated Yamazaki, inclined his head.

“Good evening, Mr. Eldredge. I hope it wouldn’t be too much trouble, if I joined you for a minute?”

- - -

Raelin inspected the interior of her new suit’s Mobile Trace system. She was garbed in skintight black latex, and as she glanced down at herself it almost seemed that her body vanished into the floor. This strange effect was due to the fact that the entirety of the interior was pitch black, same as her bodysuit. Her eyes strained to pick out some semblance of color, but it almost appeared as if a smoky haze hung about the cockpit. However, as the viewscreen came to life, she realized it hardly affected her ability to pick out the details surrounding her. Except that, perhaps, she saw the room in greater contrast. Shadows stood out from the light, and her eyes pierced the dimness with an ease that surprised her.

A wave swept through her, then. A powerful feeling of nostalgia invaded her senses. She smiled, almost against her will. It felt inexplicably like her father. She took a deep breath, and could almost smell his reassuring scent after a long day of training – that sweaty exhaustion that exuded from his pores. She knew it almost as well as she knew herself, and it filled her with comfort. His presence was undeniable.

She shook her head, sending a cascade of white-blonde hair shimmering across her shoulders and back. Despite the murkiness within the Trace system, Raelin’s hair practically glowed, a brilliant gold against the ivory of her face and the ebony that made up the rest of the cockpit. Collecting her thoughts, the Shadow brought her arms together in front of her torso, and extended them straight out. Pointing her fingers, she stretched first one arm, then the other, high above her head.

The motions were more difficult than she had expected. Experimentally, Raelin bounced on her toes, marveling at the heavy resistance found within the joints of her new suit. She wiggled her fingers, and flexed an arm. Within the metal of this Gundam was hidden a mighty strength. Raelin knew it instinctively. Laughing, she began a warm-up exercise, and the simple punches she threw felt as if they could rip apart even the strongest armor.

Twisting her body, she threw a side-kick, and marveled at the speed of the attack despite the power behind the blow. Bringing the leg up underneath her, she stood in the ‘flamingo’ position, and paused. That feeling of her father’s presence had returned, and she focused on it. Suddenly, the leg upon which the suit stood began to sink into the floor of Hangar 3.

- - -

“You must be joking, to think I’d believe something like that.” James stared incredulously at his uninvited guest, who stared back at him impassively. His expression hadn’t changed since his arrival at the Bistro, that half-smile hinting at condescension. Eldredge had immediately disliked the man. “I’m supposed to accept that a member of the Corporate Information Bureau would just wander up to me and announce himself?”

The guest simply shrugged. His eyes gave no hint of information, their gaze piercing into James as they talked. “You and I both know how the Company works. If I’m not who I say I am, I’ve just signed my own death warrant by claiming that position. And if I am who I say I am, and you choose to ignore what I say, you may be signing your own. Besides, what do I have to gain by lying? I think you’re just going to have to trust me, Mr. Eldredge.” James laughed in response.

“I’m not in the habit of trusting people I’ve never met – especially those who claim to be a part of the most well-informed division in the Company.” He paused momentarily. “If not the whole galaxy. What do you want from me? I doubt CIB’s in the habit of charity these days.” The linguine sat ice cold, pushed to one side and totally forgotten. James rested his hands on the table and stared directly at the man, at the reflections of Neo Las Vegas’s lights in his glasses. “And I didn’t catch your name, Mr…”

“It’s not what we want, Mr. Eldredge.” The man totally ignored the request. “It’s what you want. It’s what we can give you. Or, rather, what your upcoming opponent can give you.” Leaning back, the man crossed his fingers and rested them upon his torso. “Or, were you disinterested in the location of the blonde-haired man you’ve been looking for?” The words struck the young pilot like a hammer, and his face slackened in shock.

“Wha? How’d you… What does Raelin have to do with this?” James stood from his seat, the revelation erasing all of his earlier skepticism at this man’s professed occupation. “She said she’d come into some new information since we first met, but back then she didn’t know anything.” The tone of his voice switched, became lower, hurt. “She couldn’t have been lying?”

The man with the horn-rimmed glasses didn’t nod, didn’t smile… He didn’t do anything except continue to look straight at James. His silence, though, was louder than any affirmation could have been. Eldredge’s shoulders slumped slightly as the agent finally opened his mouth. “We believe she may have come into possession of his whereabouts some time in the… –ack!-”

The man’s calm voice broke off into a strangled cough as James grabbed him by the lapels. The pilot had moved with astonishing speed, grabbing his conversation partner. “Where. Is. He.” James punctuated each word with a shaking of his hands. Finally, the CIB agent’s calm demeanor had been broken, if only for an instant, as his eyes registered their surprise. Then a door seemed to slam shut, and they narrowed almost imperceptibly.

“I can’t tell you that, because I don’t know. But we both know somebody who does. And I think you have something you should be preparing for.” The man adjusted his glasses, pulled James’s hands slowly from his jacket, and stood from the table. He nodded his head towards a massive structure in the distance, and James’s eyes widened as understanding filled him.

Throwing a handful of cash on top of the still-sleeping form of his ship captain, he dashed off to find the Freedom. The well-dressed man watched him go, a bemused smile never leaving his face. As Eldredge’s back vanished into the distance, Gaelin glanced at his watch. He was slightly behind schedule. Clucking his tongue in minor annoyance, he moved quickly towards his next destination.

- - -

Clawing at the ground with her arms, Raelin felt her suit sink further into the surface. But she felt no pain, and could sense her limbs easily, despite the fact that every scientific fact suggested that they no longer existed. Concentrating, she pulled herself upwards, and felt her legs rising back out of the floor. Soon, she stood in the center of the hangar once more, and there was no sign of her having just lost half her body into its deck. Experimentally, she bent her knees, and the suit responded with no discernable difference than it had when she first got in. She could swear she heard her father laughing.

Exhaling slowly, she collected herself. Raelin was shocked at the odd ability of this new Gundam, but it could certainly be useful. Especially for one with her skills at avoiding detection. ‘I could get used to this,’ she thought, focusing again on allowing herself to slide into the ground. Once more the strange suit disappeared into the floor, vanishing totally. Raelin’s monitors went dark, plunging the Mobile Trace system into compete blackness, but she could feel her location within the room nevertheless.

‘Let’s try… This!’ A tiny shadow seemed to dart across the hangar floor, and Raelin popped out in a dark corner of the room, no worse for the wear, as her monitor once more flared to life. She giggled, unable to prevent her glee at discovering such a useful tactic. The shadows themselves appeared to dance with her amusement, and she could feel them pulling at her. No. No, that was wrong. It wasn’t they who were pulling at her. She stared in amazement as a roiling ball of darkness coalesced in front of her suit.

It was Raelin who called to them! As the ball bubbled and grew, she stretched out her hand. The motion simply felt right. Her lips whispered the words “Ex Umbra,” as she poured her strength into the growing apparition. It soon took shape before her, stretching towards the ceiling until it stood fully-formed. Raelin gaped, as on her monitors she viewed a nearly exact duplicate of her own brand new machine – though instead of any sort of color, this doppelganger actually pulled light into it. Totally black, it seemed like it would be smooth to the touch. In fact, Lady Alexander stretched out an arm and touched it, feeling that it was in fact solidly smooth, though what comprised its solidity she couldn’t even surmise.

“I see the two of you are getting along just fine already.” Raelin’s concentration broke, and the tenuous grasp she felt upon the shadows was broken. They scattered, then, and the inky blackness that mimicked her own suit appeared to melt into the ground from underneath her hand. Turning, she could see Gaelin striding across the hangar floor straight at her. He betrayed no hint of surprise at her skills, though as the female pilot tried to remember she was unsure if the man had ever betrayed any sort of emotion at all to her.

“You know, the O’Conner and Alexander families have controlled this suit for generations, stretching to eras you’ve probably thought were tales. So I suppose your quick compatibility shouldn’t surprise me.” Gaelin brought one hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully. “Even so, it’s still impressive. Though I suppose there’s plenty of memories stored up in that old machine. You’re just picking up on the will of those who fought inside that suit in the past. Years of experience, transmitted across the ages.”

Raelin could only stare at the man as he revealed facets of her family history even she didn’t know. “Gaelin… Who are you?”

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it?” he spoke softly, and offered her a gentle smile. Despite being within a machine that stood more than fifty feet tall, Raelin felt as though she were looking upwards into his eyes, instead of the other way around. He took off his glasses, and placed them in his breast pocket. Glancing to the side, he spotted something and nodded once, briefly.

“Now, Kiley. It’s time to see if you’re ready for the next step.” Gaelin walked slowly to a console in the wall, talking the whole time. He sounded so certain, Raelin never even thought to ask what he might mean by ‘steps.’ Even though his back was to her, his voice was loud and clear, and resounded throughout the hangar.

“In this world, you will sometimes come to forks in the road. Down one fork, you can find a life of content. Step from your suit, here and now, and you can find yourself on that road. There’s nothing wrong with that. But,” and here he paused for a moment as he reached the wall console and began to tap at several keys.

“There is also the other road. Life can be hard on that road, and rarely will you ever find simple peace at its end. Yet that road is the path that must be followed, for those who wish to achieve greatness. That was the road your father once took, Lady Alexander. It is the road he wishes for you.” The console beeped once in readiness, and Gaelin’s finger hovered over a single button.

“I only have one question, Gaelin.” He turned and raised one eyebrow quizzically, as she continued. “What am I supposed to call it?” She watched as he pressed the button, running one finger across the crucifix that still hung from her wrist. The floor upon which she stood began to rise towards the ceiling, and a section of the top of the hangar right above her began to retract. Raelin looked at the receding figure as the platform brought her towards an unknown locale. She thought she could detect the ghost of a frown cross his lips, and he spoke just before the platform ascended into the room above the hangar.

“His name is Sichel.”

- - -

The Sichel rose into Olympus Coliseum, the enormous structure dimly lit by a mere handful of the total number of overhead lights, and the dull pink glow of a twin beam saber. Opposite the Mobile Fighter stood Freedom, its weapon bared menacingly in the semi-darkness. Raelin tried to gather her bearings, glancing around at the empty seats that surrounded her. Her comm. crackled to life, and the voice that emerged was almost unrecognizable as James Eldredge.

“Where is he?” Raelin parted her lips to respond, but the question had caught her off-guard, and for a moment she stayed silent as she attempted to parse the words. James spoke again. “Where is the man I’m searching for? The one with the long, spiky blonde hair? What haven’t you told me?” She shook her head.

“James, I don’t know where he is. I think I’ve figured out a way that you and I can work together to solve both our…” She hadn’t even finished before the Freedom’s thrusters ignited and the suit dashed towards her with blinding speed.

“LIAR!” The yell distorted through the Sichel’s sound system, and Raelin found herself diving to one side to avoid a swipe from the twin Lacerta beam saber. “Tell me where he is, or I… I… I can’t be responsible for what I’ll do.” To punctuate the threat, James spun the twin saber above his head, and slid one leg forward into an attack stance. The Freedom’s eyes flashed, and inside the cockpit James cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

“Look, I just told you, James. I don’t know where he is.” Raelin refused to be intimidated, and brought her hands up in a classic defensive post. “Don’t think you can scare me with empty threats. This Sichel Gundam shall protect me whatever you might try.” She waited, ready this time, for the attack that was sure to come.

Come it did. Freedom again blurred into motion, its wings spreading and thrusters firing. As he sped across the floor towards the waiting dark Gundam, James wondered at its abilities. It was clearly different from the one he had seen Raelin use in the past, though it did share some similarity in its design. However, he put those thoughts from his mind – he could try to figure that out later. Right now, he had a fight to win. The Freedom leveled its saber directly at the Sichel, and color rippled across it as James engaged the Phase Shift armor.

Raelin watched the Freedom carefully, and slid backwards away from the saber as it passed. She moved to swing at the blue-and-white suit, but put too little force behind her attack. Her arm sliced through empty air as the Freedom spun past her, twisting to press the attack. Its Picus vulcan guns spat shells as James watched his opponent carefully. Raelin tried to jump out of the way of the rounds, but she was a tad slow and several bit into her legs, sending spikes like a stinging fly into her body, even though the damage was almost negligible.

‘I’ve got to get a hang of the Sichel,’ she thought to herself, as she flipped backwards to avoid a swing that nearly split her from “crown to crotch.” Raelin reeled backwards as James furiously swung at her time and again. ‘It’s a lot heavier than the Spiegel. Keep that in mind, Kiley, or you’ll end up in a hospital bed again… Or worse!’ Staggering, Raelin dropped to one knee as the Freedom swung its shield in a wide arc and slammed it against the Sichel’s side. James again opened his comm.

“I don’t like repeating myself. And I –really- don’t like repeating myself multiple times. Where is he, the man I seek?” James flipped up his Xiphias rail cannons, and leveled them directly at the Sichel. He grinned, an expression totally devoid of any humor or pleasure. “Or do I have to say please?”

“I AM a lady, you know. That would have been a good place to start,” Raelin deadpanned. Smirking, she closed her eyes and thought back to the hangar, that feeling of slipping into the blackness… ‘There!’ The Sichel dipped underneath the line of fire from the rail cannons, and James blinked as he tried to track his opponent’s motion. Swinging his gun downward, his eyes widened in shock. Disbelievingly, he checked his sensors, but neither his eyes nor his console could tell him the location of the Sichel, as it had vanished into the dust of the Coliseum floor.

“Alexander? Alexander, get out here! We’re not done yet! You have information I ne…” James’s words were interrupted as the Sichel slammed into the back of his machine. He spun quickly, in time to see it once more dip into the ground like an apparition. He fired his rail guns at the location where the Gundam Fighter had vanished, but was rewarded simply by a puff of dirt as the hyper fast particles slammed into the ground. Once more, he felt an impact against his back, as a beam shuriken sliced across one of his wings. A second slashed into his arm as he turned, causing him to drop his shield.

Raelin grinned. She had discovered the shurikens as she moved through the ground, feeling their weight upon her side. Flipping one in her hand, she looked across the arena at the Freedom. “James, come on, let’s stop this nonsense and talk about it like rational people.” She stood easily, confident in the abilities of her new suit, and her own.

“Talk all you want. Unless it’s the info I want, I’ll continue to fight.” The rail cannons fired again, and this time one shot crossed the distance between the two and slammed into the Sichel’s shoulder. In response, Raelin flung a shuriken at the Freedom, its beam blades spinning wildly in the dim illumination. Their green light gave James a perfect arc to track, and his coordinator instincts took hold. Spinning his twin sabers, he cut across the movement of the weapon with impeccable precision. The shuriken flew into the air, flipping end-over-end as it moved. Upon its fall back towards Earth, the Freedom’s arm shot out.

“Let’s see how you like a taste of your own medicine, -Lady-.” The sarcastic emphasis James put on the honorific was all too clear, as the Freedom’s hand snaked between the beams of the shuriken to grasp the physical center of the weapon. James spun his suit, flicking the shuriken back towards its initial owner, and goosing his thrusters. The projectile spun towards the Sichel, followed closely by the Freedom. As he flew, James split his beam sabers into two separate weapons. Raelin sighed, and moved to slip into the safety of the floor again. James smirked.

Before the Sichel could disappear into the ground, the Freedom threw one of its sabers. Raelin shifted to the side, before her eyes widened and she recognized the true purpose of the action. The saber impacted against the blades of the shuriken, drastically altering its flight path, directly at the legs of the Sichel. Raelin jumped, adrenalin suffusing her bloodstream as she tried to avoid the deadly weapon. But she was sent sprawling as the Freedom, anticipating her motion, flew across her trajectory and raked its remaining beam saber across the Sichel’s back.

Within the Sichel’s Mobile Trace system, Raelin screamed from the pain, as her comm. unit came to life. “Learn a new trick. That one’s no good anymore.” James landed the Freedom near his thrown beam saber, picking it up and reattaching it to the other. The second blade again extended from the middle of the weapon, and he held it before him, parallel to the ground. “I’d hate to mess up that pretty face. Then again, maybe your outside should match your insides, you lying snake. I knew you Drakes were no good.”

Raelin’s blood boiled, and she pulled her blonde hair back from where it had fallen in front of her eyes. It was one thing to fight her. Even to beat her. But to impugn her honor… The honor of the Alexander family… No, it was time to teach this Company dog a lesson. Again, the words rose unbidden to her lips. “Ex Umbra.” The Sichel stood slowly, and the shadows across its face seemed to deepen even further. The dark suit took one slow step forward, as the darkness spread across its entire body, before leeching into the space around it. Slowly, an apparition took shape next to the Sichel, forming into an exact duplicate that mirrored Raelin’s slow stalk towards the Freedom. Then… The dark continued to spread, to the other side of her suit, forming a second visage. Their surfaces reflected nothing, an inky blackness.

James laughed. “Illusionist parlor tricks. They don’t even look like you!” He brought up his saber as the Sichel reached him, swinging in an arc that left a purple trail behind it. The Sichel’s forearm swept up, blade catching the strike, and Raelin countered with her other arm. The Freedom spun out of the way, but suddenly James was thrown forwards against his seat restraints. One of the shadow clones had struck his suit across the face, and though his Phase Shift armor prevented the blow from removing the Freedom’s head the impact was powerful enough to send the Freedom reeling.

The trio moved in, then, and James suddenly found himself pressed to stay alive. As Raelin stabbed with her blades, he parried, and attempted to fly out of reach. However, one shadow jumped up and flipped, kicking downwards at the Freedom. That Gundam’s thrusters flared, and James slipped to the side, dodging the blow. However, he slammed into the waiting arms of another clone, which grappled at him from behind with immense strength. Unable to free himself, he could see the Sichel move to strike again. James replaced his sabers quickly, as the Mobile Fighter fired. The blades streamed outwards, attached to her arms by chains. James’s arms were still free, though. One hand caught a blade, holding it mere meters away from his cockpit, as the other cut upwards desperately, knocking the second blade away.

He pushed all possible power to his engines, and the Freedom’s wings spread suddenly, energy firing from behind. The shadow clone that held him was immolated, melting into nothingness as the Freedom jetted towards the Sichel. A furious, if short, battle ensued. James grabbed a beam saber once more in each hand, splitting them in two, swinging one from above while the other he stabbed straight forwards. The Sichel’s hands moved so quickly even James’s coordinator eyesight failed to follow them, as its blades came together in an X-pattern, blocking both blows. He spun, trying for a simple high-low cut pattern, but Raelin jumped above the lower slice and again used the cross block to avoid the high attack.

The two slid across the Coliseum floor, James frantically pushing for any sort of advantage, while Raelin was content momentarily to parry and throw an occasional counterthrust. The dust billowed across the floor, spinning into small dirt devils that swirled with a life of their own. Several counters impacted against the Freedom’s armor, and James gritted his teeth as his suit began to show signs of damage. The Sichel, however, moved as easily as it had when the battle began. He pulled one arm back, hoping to deliver a massive strike, only to be kicked from the side by the waiting shadow clone.

The Freedom came about, looking to take out the clone, but it had jumped back and out of range by the time he could react to the blow. Checking his sensors, James could no longer find the Sichel within the Coliseum. At that instant, he felt his movements restricted from below, and he saw the Sichel appear on his sensors directly beneath him. The suit, halfway slipped into the floor, had grasped his right leg in an immensely powerful grip. James tried to implore his opponent one last time.

“Why won’t you tell me the location of the blonde-haired man?” He blasted his thrusters, but to no avail, as the Sichel proved to be incredibly strong. Still Raelin held his leg fast, and the shadow clone walked towards him slowly. That blackness seemed to shimmer, momentarily, with an inner malevolence, as it stepped up just before him. James railed against his controls, his frustration mounting at his impotence, both in this fight and in his inability to find that man who had saved him so long ago.

The Sichel pulled on the leg, as the clone jumped forwards, planting both legs in the Freedom’s chest in a massive kicking motion. James momentarily blacked out from the pressure exerted upon his suit, as the right leg of the Freedom was torn entirely from the body of the rest of the suit. The Gundam staggered back, hopping on its remaining leg, as James managed to regain consciousness and avoid falling to the ground. His mouth opened in a noiseless scream, as his emotions reached a fever pitch.

A S.E.E.D. dropped…

James’s eyes snapped open, as his irises dilated. His pupils shrank nearly to invisibility, and his gaze centered on his console’s sensors for the briefest of moments. Two flashes indicated the location of the Sichel and its shadow clone, and hands flew across the Freedom’s controls.

“You SCUM!” The words spit from James’s mouth, as he locked his plasma cannons briefly into place, sending a lance of green energy streaking outwards. The remaining shadow clone was caught full-on by the blast, dissipating into the air as the darkness of night was destroyed by a rising sun. He moved impossibly fast, spinning his suit in place even on one leg. Brandishing his twin beam saber, James cut at the location of the Sichel. Raelin sank into the floor, dodging the blow by a miniscule margin, and slipping around behind Freedom.

As she rose from the ground, though, she was shocked to find the Freedom already waiting for her. Even as she had first begun to emerge, the sensor readings had informed James, and his reaction was instantaneous. The Freedom did a sort of jump-turn, using its thrusters to spin about at high speed, and as the Sichel rose from the ground James cut at its head. Throwing herself backwards, Raelin limboed beneath the attack, legs popping from the floor and kicking up at the Freedom’s one good leg.

Goosing the thrusters, James hopped over the swipe, leveling his blade straight at the cockpit of the Sichel, which lay prone upon the arena floor for the moment. James’s voice filled Raelin’s ears. “Try to lie to ME?!” Stabbing downwards, even James’s advanced coordinator instincts failed to account for the possibility of Raelin flipping off the floor, around the saber’s blade, and actually phasing the Sichel through the Freedom itself.

The dark suit turned the maneuver into a flying slap, looking to decapitate the enraged pilot’s Gundam. James threw his saber into the air and brought his left arm around catching the slap on his elbow. The joint sparked, but the arm held together, and the spinning blade came down across the Sichel’s wrist, causing Raelin to bark in pain. Tears came unbidden to her eyes, and within her mind a cry resonated, as if the Sichel bled with her. There was no time to whimper, however, as James continued his assault with a tireless energy.

A whispered sound, just too soft to hear, began to pervade Raelin’s thoughts, even as she dodged the numerous slashes like mad. She tried to ignore the words, as they could do her no good. The Freedom threw itself into the air, raining slices from above as it passed overhead. Though none connected, Raelin was now beginning to tire quickly from the constant exhaustion this battle required. As the Freedom landed before her again, she was too slow as James’s unbelievably fast motions began once more from directly in front of her.

One cut finally found its mark, stabbing into the Sichel’s hip and raking across the metal. Though it failed to cut the Sichel open, the damage was severe, and the Mobile Trace system routed that injury to Raelin. The pain was indescribable, forcing a scream from her lips. However, the scream was not simply a wordless shout, but the phrase that had been echoing in her mind. The will of its pilots had filled the Sichel throughout its storied past. Boundless reserves of courage, strength, and skills, were brought to the fore.

“Lux Lucis Sancti!” The syllables burst from Raelin’s lips, as a massive ball of energy manifested before the Sichel, nearly on top of the Freedom. The attack exploded instantly, knocking James to the side and away from his quarry, and the Sichel was thrown away by the impact. The blast clouds slowly disappeared, and Raelin could see the Freedom was now missing an arm, and a large portion of its left side’s inner mechanics were now exposed to air. She had not fared much better, and one hand came to her mouth as her shoulders heaved. It came away bloody, and Raelin’s eyes drew into slits.

The Sichel attempted to form another pair of shadow clones, but even as they began to materialize, the Freedom dashed forward, its one remaining hand sending the twin beam saber into a dizzying figure eight. Both clones vanished under the onslaught, and the Freedom pressed the attack. He loosed an overhead swipe, the blade cutting at the Sichel from above. Raelin brought both arms up to block the blow, and James fired his engines.

The coordinator’s ability to strategize had analyzed the maneuver, and gave it a high probability of success. Despite its seemingly dangerous nature, James’s instincts – heightened as they were at this moment – proved correct. The Freedom slammed the entirety of its body into the Sichel, slamming it hard against a wall. Though the metal of the Freedom screeched in protest, the Sichel was far worse for the wear, bouncing off the wall and falling to its knees in front of James. Seizing the opportunity, he brought his saber forward once more.

James let out an unintelligible yell as he sliced forwards, caught in the moment. The blow proved to be decisive, cleaving through the Sichel’s armor and nearly cutting apart Raelin within her cockpit. The attack threw the Gundam backwards, exposing the cockpit and expelling its pilot as the suit slammed against a wall. She flew through the air, landing heavily upon the ground of the arena. Slumping, the Sichel slid downwards, coming to rest in a tumbled heap as secondary explosions ripped up and down its frame. One arm was sent flying, whistling straight at the Freedom. James barely moved the suit’s head to the side, and the arm vanished into the darkness behind him.

Raelin lay on the ground, totally spent. She coughed, and pain wracked her side. She could tell one rib was broken, possibly more. She lifted her head and stared, wordlessly, as the Freedom stood over the nearly destroyed frame of the Sichel. The victorious suit walked – well, hopped – slowly to a small marked circle where it had waited when she first arrived. It moved slowly, the shrieking of gears audible to her ears.

James grunted in satisfaction. Even if he couldn’t beat the information out of that Legacy scum, at least he could just beat upon her. As he reached the marked spot, he paused for a moment, before the floor began to descend to a hangar below. James finally allowed a headache that had been brewing to finally reach him. Despite his success today, he was back to square one, he knew. ‘Perhaps I’ll make a call to CIB,’ he mused, as his battered suit dropped out of Raelin’s sight. ‘I know one agent who deserves a brief “chat”, at least.’

Upon the disappearance of the Freedom, Raelin could see a small door in the side of the Coliseum floor slide open soundlessly. From it walked a familiar figure, and the young pilot lowered her head to the ground, covered by the tapestry of her blonde hair. The tapping of his shoes against the ground drew near, and finally stopped right at her side. A hand reached down and cupped her chin gently, raising her face. She stared Gaelin in the eyes, his glasses stored safely in his breast pocket. He stroked her cheek softly, his concern apparent, but his gaze hardened as he opened his mouth to speak.

“That is the power your father wished you to learn by attacking those bases – absolute clarity in battle.” Raelin’s sight was drawn to the fingers that still held her face, as they were suffused by a golden glow. Astonished, she watched the luminance travel up Gaelin’s arms and encompass his entire body, finally moving across his facial features. The light nearly blinded her with its brilliance. It drove away the darkness of the arena and filled the space with a brightness that gleamed with power.

The whole experience, combined with her injuries, was too much for the young woman. Her eyes rolled, slightly, and her lids closed heavily. Raelin passed out, as Gaelin’s incredible power illuminated the whole of the Olympus Coliseum about her, a taste of things to come.

Outcome: Freedom wins, Sichel loses
Freedom: 4(2) days damage
Sichel: 5(3) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Virsago versus Qubeley Mark II
By: Akatsuki

Mars was truly a sight to behold near the top of the mountain. A literally breath-taking view was the setting for two suits as they faced off about two hundred meters apart, on the ridges of Olympus Mons.

Kali Shiva was ecstatic. She was going to be with the man of her dreams! He was on the same base as her! A mere few dozen kilometers away!

"Kali, are you ready?"

Kali ignored the voice as she continued her reverie, imagining the happy days that would follow. The meeting, the romancing, the dating, and even marr—oh, she couldn't even finish the thought!

"Kali…. Do you read me?"

"Oh, don't refuse me!!! I'll do my best for yooouuu!!!"

*CLANK*

The Qubeley Mark II rocked back and forth from a fairly large impact. Kali screamed as her mobile suit nearly fell over, and her cheeks flushed red as she realized what she had said over the speaker.

Claus Butcher had grown impatient and used Virsago’s strong claw arms to lob a rock as his obsessed opponent. He crossed his arms. "Are you quite done babbling? I'd like to get this little training session under way, if you don't mind…?"

Kali replied, "Sorry sorry sorry sorry!!! I'll do my best!!!!!" She then steeled herself for the combat ahead. For the sake of love!

Claus sighed. He wasn't very thrilled with baby-sitting duty. He'd much rather duel his brother. Orders are orders, I suppose, he thought. "Ok Kali, bring out your funnels. We're going to work on your response time and accuracy with remotes." Right beside Virsago was a rather large pile of various-sized rocks. He sighed again. What have I been reduced to, a savage?

"Ready sir!!!" Qubeley's funnels began filing out of its back binder. Finally, all twelve floating guns were spiraling in a loose formation around the red suit. A slight wobble could be seen in most of them; Kali wasn't used to having to spread her mind that far out. Don't fail me, my babies! For the sake of love!!! The funnels then steadied their flight patterns, dancing hypnotically around their mother unit.

"Ok, here we go. Destroy the rocks before they hit you!" Virsago began heaving boulders at his “opponent” with a great deal of force. Just as it hit the halfway point, the first rock exploded from a hail of beam fire. The second rock met the same fate, as did the next few. However, by about the seventh or eighth stone, the funnels began to lose accuracy. Soon, the rocks were being destroyed a mere twenty meters in front of Qubeley. "Come on, Kali, pick up the pace!"

"Yes sir!!! I'll do my best!!!"

Kali's confident response belied her mental strain. Her mind began to have difficulty keeping up with the fast pace of incoming rocks.

Finally, one slipped through and impacted against one of the Qubeley's funnels, destroying it. Kali screamed, "My baby!!!" The other funnels immediately flew back into the red suit's tail binder. Kali's mental concern for her 'babies' forced them to retreat.

Claus sighed and shook his head. He was tired of throwing rocks anyways. He drew out his beam saber. "Ok Kali, since you don't want to harm your… um… babies, let's try a little sword practice." He spun the blade in a circular motion, getting a good feel for it.

Kali straightened up. "Understood sir!!! I'll do my best!!!"

Claus leaned back from exasperation. Is this girl serious? "As you say, Kali. I'll push you to your limits, so don't hold back!" Virsago rushed forward as Qubeley drew its own beam sabers. The blades locked as both suits pushed forward, Virsago not relying on its strike claws, as Claus did not need to. He quickly flipped over the slower moving Qubeley while flicking Virsago's wrist, putting a sizable gash into the other duelist’s head.

Claus smacked his forehead. Enough is enough… "Ok Kali, I think we've done enough today. Are you sure you're okay with combat…?”

Kali immediately went ram-rod straight. "Yes sir! I'll continue to do my best, sir!!!"

Claus gave up. "Let's go home and start your suit's repairs…"

Outcome: Virsago wins (?), Qubeley Mark II loses
Virsago: No damage.
Qubeley Mark II: 2(1) days damage

___________________________________________________________________________
Jester versus Hi-Nu
By: Stargazer

Alexander McEwan didn’t do the tourist thing. The young British man thought of himself as a world traveler, and as such disdained such things as tour groups, interactive bus guides, or even the occasional informative plaque. So it was odd that the McEwan lad found himself under laced gothic arches, listening to a lady in ancient glasses and a very ugly formal dress.

So it had turned out that while Mr. Alex had been a good, knowledgeable world traveler, in skipping the “tourist thing” he had in fact also completely forgotten to ever once visit Prague’s beautiful churches.

The older lady rambled on. Alex caught bits and pieces of her lecture, enough to make him curious, but he was not curious enough to try out his rusty Italian here. Someone else asked a question, in the same language…had he somehow wound up with an Italian tour group? The young soldier of fortune shook his head, sadly. Of all the…

In an arc to the left, his eye caught on something that often hooked its gaze. His head turned horizontally. The first thing he noticed was the dancer’s body.

Alexander shook his head, lifting it upright and averting his gaze guiltily. He stole a glance when he was sure everything was safe.

The girl was listening raptly, caught up in the history and beauty of the church as she stared around the cavernous room. Spires melted into graceful lines in the wood and stone. There was a deafening pressure in the looming emptiness, a glimpse of God’s glorious creation in the limited dimensions that humans can understand.

Ariel Samon was so caught up in the architecture that even her honed senses were unable to pick up the presence of Alexander McEwan at her shoulder. The girl gasped, slightly, a whispering sound that fell into the guide’s endless torrent. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the young man.

“Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to tell you a story about that corner you were looking at.”

“Oh?” She asked, suspicious. Alex, like most of the time, was surprised at how casual he sounded.

“Yeah,” He replied, pulling her shoulders even with his, side by side. He pointed up at the corner she had been gazing at.

“You see that face? The one with the dumb smile?” Ariel had. She hadn’t been staring at that face (which, she thought, looked a bit silly – a little fat face with a simpering little grin) but at the grandiose scene of demons and angels above it.

Alex was much more concerned with the feeling of her shoulder pressed against his. It was soft, but the boy could sense the steel beneath the skin. She was certainly a dancer of some sort, perhaps a gymnast. He focused on what he was saying, despite her somewhat intoxicating scent.

“Well, it’s a tribute. When they were building this church, one of the workers on that corner died underneath one of the massive stone blocks they were setting into place.” Alex grinned. “After they had finished the cornerstone, they carved the man’s face into the very thing that had killed him.”

Ariel twisted up her lips in disgust. Alex was amazed at how cute her mouth looked like that.

“That seems ironically unfair. That poor man.” She looked up again at the fat little face. Now his grin looked almost like a grimace of pain. “I wonder what his name was…”

“His name was Alexander McEwan,” Alex said, his face comically solemn. Ariel looked at him, confused for a second.

“Really?” She looked back up at the face. “That doesn’t sound like a Czech name…”

Ariel glanced at Alex, who was looking up at the face and was quite unsuccessfully trying to stifle a grin. The girl looked even more puzzled for a second, then her eyes narrowed as Alex burst out laughing.

“Sorry! I made it all up…ouch! Ouch!! I said I was sorry!!”

Ariel punched him once more in the arm for good measure.

“That was mean,” she grumbled. “I suppose your name is Alex?”

“That’s me,” the British man said, rubbing his arm ruefully. “The pilot and the poet. Think I could get your name?” Pain shot through his arm as he tried to move it. “Bloody hell, feels like I’ve been socked in the arm with a bowling ball.” The Gundam Fighter looked concerned.

“Now it’s my turn to apologize. My name is Ariel Samon. I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” Ariel laughed, and then looked sly. “I think I know how I can make it up to you.”

Alex brightened up immediately.

“Let’s have a duel!”

“…”

~

The bruise Alex had been left with was bad, but he didn’t mind. If he couldn’t be out romancing this girl, at least he could learn a bit about his suit from her. He still didn’t know much about his mysterious Gundam, and it seemed like every battle brought him that much closer to tapping its secrets.

The Italian girl was certainly in a queer rig. The Jester’s strange shape puzzled Alex. Could such a ridiculous-looking machine put up a fight?

“You ready?” Ariel asked over the comm. The lithe fighter did some warm up stretches, making Alex wish for a second that her cockpit was translucent as the Jester mimicked the movements. The canyon walls stretched high above their heads. Rain poured down – it was the wet season in this half of the world. Thunder sounded. It was like a gong.

Something big materialized in the canyon behind the Hi-Nu. Ariel saw the winged, devilish apparition step out from a curtain of rain seconds before a green scythe and eyes blazed into existence. She yelled warning to her new friend, but there was no need. Alex’s newtype senses were faster than Ariel, and a lightning bolt sprung across the young man’s vision before his ears caught her yell. The Hi-Nu ducked, losing only a funnel rack to the slashing beam blade, and roared off to stand beside the Jester.

“Who the hell are you?!” Ariel shouted into the comm., Jester ducking into an attack crouch. The Hi-Nu, shoulder sparking, drew its beam rifle.

“He’s not showing up on my radar!” Alex yelled, surprise echoed in his voice.

The Deathscythe Gundam’s eyes glowed a fiery green, demonic in the rain. Inside, the one they called the Goth smiled. Gustav Hartmann had good memories of Prague, and he had been glad to be there again. But this time there was a battle to be fought – he made no reply to the inquiry but sent a short signal from the comm. Both Alex and Ariel heard the click on their own headsets.

From a pile of loose rocks and scree – Alex had assumed it was an avalanche site – an orange hand erupted and loosed a metal whip-like weapon. It spun and caught the Hi-Nu tight around the torso.

The rest of the GOUF Ignited’s body emerged from the crumbling embankment. The pilot inside grinned nastily, hitting a button on his console. The whip lit up with electric energy, flowing down and into the H-Nu Gundam. Inside, Alex screamed as lightning coursed through his veins.

“NO!” Ariel cried. The Jester leapt forward to the orange attacker.

“You deal with me!” The Goth yelled, his baritone voice intimidating even over the comm. The Deathscythe screamed forward, thrusters blazing, and slashed at the mobile fighter with its namesake weapon. The blade left a green afterimage as it swept through the air. The Jester, with all of the natural agility of a Gundam Fighter, had dashed quickly out of range.

Gustav growled and released his buster shield at the twisted suit. In an incredible display of acrobatics, the Jester flipped and gracefully kicked the shield into the canyon wall. The entire canyon shook as the shield ground into the earth, dust billowing out from the impact.

The Jester used the opportunity to slip into the cloud, quickly dimming out of Shuurajou’s sight. He growled as he operated the GOUF’s controls, firing the beam cannons into the rainy haze blindly while keeping his heat whip on the trapped Hi-Nu.

In it, Alex screamed.

~

The screaming reached out over the airwaves to someone else’s cockpit. The sound was almost infused with the pilot’s pain, his latent psychic power echoing it.

‘Attack vector 4590, lateral approach with killing thrust at 00.001 seconds, and-‘

Sigurd forced the system back. The Epyon was insistent, prying, but ultimately unsuccessful in convincing its pilot that killing every threat on the battlefield was the correct path.

Atremite saw the field in its entirety, existing in a flood of information, omnipotence touching his lips. The feeling became almost too intense to handle, but the salesman turned pilot was used to it by now. He saw what he wanted to do – his path became clear.

~

The Goth’s deep voice yelled a warning to his partner. Shuurajou’s enhanced brain took this input, processed it, and produced output almost twice as quickly as any natural human brain could. His body perfectly tuned to his thoughts, the Coordinator swung his GOUF around.

A red suit, even more demonic than the Goth’s dark steed, stood silhouetted in the rain in mid strike. The blazing beam sword cut the whip cleanly, Alex’s electric prison falling. The boy coughed up blood – his mortality staring him in the face. Too much more of that and he would’ve been gone.

The Epyon was already moving as the Hi-Nu recovered. The red suit moved incredibly quickly, never stopping to debate. The GOUF backed off as it charged, firing its beam gun and drawing the Tempest sword. The edges of the metal weapon were wreathed in beam fire, sizzling as the rain struck it.

The shots that struck the Epyon did minimal damage, Shuurajou’s guns not being strong enough to pierce the sturdy Gundanium armor. The Epyon swept forward, heat rod lashing and wings outstretched. The GOUF met it toe for toe, the Tempest sword held valiantly against the red suit’s massive blade.

The system adjusted the power of the sword itself at the first sign of resistance, reactor feeding strength to the blade. The Epyon’s beam sword increased in intensity, almost wrapping itself around the Tempest sword itself, slowly melting its inner frame. As the sword began to warp and twist, Shuurajou dropped it and leapt back again, disappearing into the little of the dust cloud that still hovered.

“There’s no escape that way,” Sigurd said, amused. He turned his head and glanced at the battered Hi-Nu. The boy’s machine was blackened and its armor peeling. “You alright, Alex?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, a wry grin stretching his lips, “Thanks again.”

“It’s not a problem.” Sigurd replied seriously, facing the expanding dust cloud again. He threw the Epyon into the sky, wings expanding and thrusters roaring, and hovered directly above the cloud.

‘Nothing hides from my sight,’ Sigurd thought as he opened the controls wide. The thrusters on the Epyon flared, venting their power down the canyon. The dust swept away, revealing only the suddenly exposed GOUF Ignited.

Shuurajou pointed his wrist guns up at the hovering Epyon, but paused and looked around.

“Where’d that purple one go…?” He asked no one in particular.

“It’s MY turn!” Ariel suddenly phased into sight from behind the GOUF, Jester blades drawn back. They lashed out and sliced through the orange suit’s legs. Shuurajou reacted quickly, powering his thrusters and bursting up into the air.

“It can fly?” The Gundam fighter asked, distractedly. She dodged a few shots of beam fire from the retreating mobile suit, and then leapt up in pursuit. The Jester rose under the power of Ariel’s ki.

The Hi-Nu also leapt into pursuit, Alex keen on finishing off the one who had caused him so much pain. He released the fin funnels, which dashed off in the GOUF’s wake. They caught up and started blasting chunks out of Shuurajou’s armor.

The Deathscythe attempted to climb after his outnumbered partner, but the devilish Epyon was suddenly in his way.

“It’s you and me, buddy,” Sigurd said, smile evident in his voice. Gustav licked his lips nervously, and raised his scythe.

~

A pounding sounded throughout the canyon. Carrying even through the rain and sounds of battle, the pounding grew closer and closer until out from under the curtain of rain leapt the Gaia Gundam. In its agile quadruped mode, the mobile weapon dashed forward and leapt into the air. The high powered beam rifle on its back spat death at Jester, impacting as Ariel grunted in pain.

“Three against one isn’t fair!” The pilot of the dog-like weapon shouted as her suit fell, transforming into biped mode as it did. It hit the ground in a burst of dust, raising the beam rifle in its hand to fire again at the two suits in the sky. Alex’s newtype senses saved him, but Jester was hit once again in the shoulder. Ariel felt her body begin to tire. Xiss Nickolov aimed at the purple suit once more, drawing a bead on its head. She squeezed off a final shot.

Funnels whirled around the Jester, pink energy springing up between them and deflecting the shot. While the battered GOUF used the moment to renew its attack, Alex recalled his funnels and used them to block the shots from the orange suit.

In the Gaia, Xiss cursed. She dove once more into quadruped mode, vacating the area as a massive firestorm engulfed it. The Jester lowered its hands from the Maxter’s signature move. Ariel panted, exhausted.

The Gaia dashed forward, and once again leapt into the air. This time the Griffon 2 beam blades extended as her thrusters roared, and the transformed mobile suit swept by the Jester in a flash.

Ariel’s eyes bulged. A line of red appeared across her stomach. The lower half of the Jester exploded, sending the remaining scraps to the canyon floor. Alex was unable to tell if the cockpit had been one of them.

~

Epyon and Deathscythe clashed, demonic flame against sinister darkness. The two complimented and contrasted, both objects of fear and power. The Epyon’s sword overpowered the beam scythe as a close combat weapon, and the Goth used his suit’s agility to the fullest, to no avail.

The Epyon swept up to it in a rush, beam sword locking with the scythe while the heat rod ripped the weapon out of the suit’s clutches. Shutting down the sword, the Epyon shoved the weaponless Deathscythe to the ground.

“You’re out of this one.” Sigurd said, matter-of-factly.

“Jah.” Gustav gloomily replied.

~

His eyes blazing, the McEwan lad swung his suit to face the waiting dog-like mobile weapon. The Griffon 2 blades still burned.

With an inarticulate yell, Alex threw his suit forward. The GOUF appeared, incredibly fast while lacking its lower appendages, and began to fire shots that the fin funnels easily blocked.

“Bugger off,” Alex muttered, firing back and clipping the orange suit in the shoulder. Something in it exploded, and Shuurajou piloted it to a clumsy landing. The grim man shrugged. You win some, you lose some.

The Hi-Nu continued to its target, the Gaia letting loose a barrage of beam shots. Alex blocked them all with the remaining three fin funnels, covering his approach until he was in the dark suit’s face. The purple and white Gundam ducked low and drew a beam saber, hissing in the rain. It swept upward, meeting the darker Gundam’s own saber. The two suits stood still, locked in the moment.

The fin funnels fired. Xiss gasped as her cockpit rumbled around her, beam shots easily piercing the Phase Shift armor. Her batteries destroyed, the fair-weather pilot shut them off before they could leak any power. She smiled. It had been a good fight!

His opponent destroyed, Alex turned his battered Hi-Nu around and faced the canyon again. The demonic Epyon emerged, this time not with a sign of death…but one of life.

Ariel waved from the red suit’s palm.

“Hey Siggy. Glad you could finally make it back to Prague.” Alex’s voice was weary but playful.

“Always a good time in this city,” Sigurd agreed.