In a requisitioned mud brick house, shaded from the heat outside, Commander Hannibal Cortes sat on a folding chair, cigarette in hand. Clad in his Mechwarrior Vest and a patched pair of cargo pants, he watched the battle recordings recovered from Silver's Active Probe, taking in the shaky cam footage of the young pilot's battle against the rebel forces with dark, appraising eyes.
He took a draw on his cigarette and shook his head as he watched the locust take a few blasts from their guns. "We underestimated them, Amigo. We knew OZ had Chem Lasers, but I did not think these rebels would have them. Or that they would do this much damage."
Sitting on a folding chair to Cortes' right was the stone-faced Cyrano McQuve, a bottle of water in hand. He gave a slight nod of agreement and replied, "From what Kai has told me, they seem to be on par with medium lasers. Energy weapons are typically not used planetside, at least not according to common military doctrine on this world. They tend to overheat."
"'Common Military Doctrine'," Hannibal sneered. "Los Tontos. These idiotas do not know fighting. It is no wonder that their enemies are so dangerous to them." He took another puff on his cigarette and let out a long exhale. Shifting in his seat, he continued. "I have told la Capitana that, once the Hathor is spaceworthy, to burn for the Jumpship and get the rest of our equipment. Let them know what is going on down here, and pass on our supply requests."
"The Jumpship is leaving?" Cyrano asked, turning to look at Cortes.
"Si. I am sending what we have collected with them. I am praying it will only be six months before they return."
"OZ will be demanding results. We won't be able to sit and wait until they return."
"We will have to be careful."
"Jeanne nearly got her Locust shot out from under her."
"More careful than we have been." Cortes corrected himself with a frown. "I suppose smashing that Gundum so quickly made me underestimate our foes. And it nearly cost us a pilot and a mech. Senior Kobayashi informs me that it will take a week before the Locust is operational again. Until then, we will have to be on the defensive."
"A full week?"
"That is what he tells me. A hole in the XL Engine, internal damage, and the laser needs to be replaced. All that takes-"
The roar of VTOL engines cut in over the noises of the Forward Operating Base the Warhawks had set up in the village, drawing the curious attention of the two Mechwarriors.
"...time. ¿Qué fue eso?" Cortes muttered as both men rose to their feet.
"Sounds like we may have company." Cyrano replied, resting a hand upon his gun. "Perhaps Une has come demanding another turn at the Stinger."
Cortes stepped to a window and pulled the blind back, squinting into the brightness of the outside to see a blue transport jet had landed outside of the FOB's perimeter.
"It certainly seems to be someone important." He remarked.
Before Cyrano could respond, Cortes' personal comm bleeped at him, which the mechwarrior answered brusquely.
"This is Cortes."
"Commander, this is Private Chen. Someone is here to see you. A Colonel Merquis, of OZ."
"Did they say why?" Cortes asked as Cyrano shut the monitor off.
"He said he wanted to meet personally with the Unit commander. That's it."
"Of course he does." Cortes grumbled. "It is always the same with these aristocrats." He picked his aviators up from a side table and slid them on. "Bring him here, Private Chen. We will meet with this VIP."
After a short wait, Chen arrived, escorting a tall, broad shouldered young man with long platinum blonde hair, handsome features, a very fancy red uniform complete with Officer's sword and pistol, and wearing what seemed to be some kind of Neurohelmet. He moved rather confidently into the room and adjusted a pair of white gloves he was wearing as he took stock of the room's two occupants.
"Buenos dias, Coronel." Cortes said with a nod of greeting and an offered hand. "Comandante Hannibal Cortes. I lead this unit. This is my XO, Lieutenant Cyrano McQuve."
After a pause, the man took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. "Colonel Zechs Merquis. Organization of the Zodiac. I trust I did not come at a bad time?"
"No no no. We were just going over some combat data from our last mission." Cortes explained. Glancing past Zechs to see Private Chen lingering, her gaze on the handsome features of their visitor. "That will be all, Chen." The Mechwarrior addressed her.
The soldier blinked and hastily departed the room with a salute, leaving the officers alone. Cortes gestured to a nearby cooler. "Can I offer you a water?"
"No, thank you." Zechs replied cooly. "I won't be long. Just here, actually, on some personal business. I have been informed that it was your unit that destroyed Gundam Unit 01. Is this correct?"
"That was us, yes."
"Then I am at the right place." Zechs said as he stood before Cortes. "You see, Commander, the Unit 01 and I have some history. I was the first to encounter it, and was responsible for its first defeat. I been preparing for a chance to fight it again. And upon finally acquiring a machine that can match a Gundam, I learned you had taken my quarry from me. So, if I can't duel Unit 01, I will have to settle with the force responsible for its destruction."
There was a brief silence before Cyrano spoke up. "You're serious."
"Very, Lieutenant." Zechs replied. "I need to know if I could beat Unit 01. If I do not have an answer, it will haunt me. Therefore, I want the force that destroyed Unit 01 to meet me on the field of battle. To put this another way, Commander, I am formally challenging your entire force to a duel. Your 'Battlemechs' against my Tallgeese."
"That seems a monumental waste of time and resources." Cyrano replied, crossing his arms. "We are in the middle of an ongoing operation against a mutual enemy. Fighting each other serves no purpose."
"The purpose is to find answers in the heart of battle." Zechs countered. "Do you not understand the pride of a warrior, Lieutenant? The desire to test himself and find the limits of his strength?"
"Do not get me started on idiotic ideas of warrior pride, Colonel." Cortes said, irritably snorting a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I have had quite enough of them from where we are from. And Cyrano is right. This is a waste of our time and resources. Furthermore, I do not believe your superiors would appreciate you coming here and bothering us."
"Treize has already given me his permission." Zechs said with a slight smile. "He is the one who told me what you did and where you are. Sorry, Commander, but this duel is going to happen. I would rather it be formal than I attacking your FOB directly, but I have to have my answer."
Before Cortes could refute this, Cyrano placed a hand on his commander's shoulder and spoke up. "Fine. We issue a Batchall."
"A what?" Zechs asked, looking puzzled.
"A Battle Challenge. A common ritual duel from where we are from." Cyrano explained as he stepped forward, his blue eyes staring straight into the lenses of Zechs' mask. "You have come to us seeking a duel, we get to set the terms of it. So we issue a Batchall. We can not risk pulling all our forces to battle you, but we will wager one Battlemech against your machine." Cyrano then looked to Cortes and nodded. "Is this acceptable, Commander?"
Cortes finished his cigarette, dropped the butt, and stepped it out under his plasteel boot. "Fine. If that is what this chico wants, then we will give it to him." He pointed at Zechs and continued. "You will face me and my Wolverine. Cyrano, what's the one that lets you take things?"
"Trial of Possession."
"Then we make this a Trial of Possession. When you lose, we take your fancy jet."
Zechs stroked his chin, apparently intrigued by the novelty of this foreign dueling culture. "So if I win against you, then I take something of yours?"
"That is correct." Cyrano replied. "You have already bid your mech, so the Commander has answered in kind and has named his prize."
"Very well. I want your mission." Zechs said, his grin widening. "If I best you, Commander, then I will take over the hunt for the Gundams."
The two Mercs blinked at the boldness of Zech's proclamation, but Cortes grit his teeth and nodded. "Fine. Bartered good and finished, or however it goes. Cyrano?"
"Come back tomorrow at 0800 hours. We will mark off a five klick battleground for you two. If anyone interferes, the Trial is null. The fight will be until one combatant is no longer able to continue. Do you agree to these terms, Colonel?"
"This suits me just fine." Zechs said as he turned about to leave. "I will see you tomorrow then, Commander. I hope you give me your all. As you were, gentlemen."
Once the OZ Pilot had departed, Cyrano turned to Cortes. "Are you sure about taking him on yourself, Commander?"
"Better me than you." Cortes stated as he fished around for another cigarette. "I need you for the Gundams. And the Wolverine will be plenty of machine for that gilipollas." Finding one, he lit it and took a drag. "If I lose, better the blame fall on me anyway. I am in command, after all." He gave the cigarette another thoughtful puff, then turned to look back out the window, watching Zechs saunter to a waiting car to take him back to his shuttle. "Tomorrow, we will see if Zechs' skills match his boldness."
Hannibal Cortes sat in the cramped cockpit of his WVR-9W2 Wolverine, arms crossed, waiting for his opponent to show. He fiddled with the old Cooling Vest he wore, a red-trimmed device from his days in the Taurian Defense Force and took a pull from his water bottle. He then checked his HUD camera feed.
Some distance from the field were the Warhawks and the civilians of the village they had occupied, who had come to watch the fight. They viewed from what should have been a safe distance through field glasses and through a couple beat up monitors that were receiving signals from a couple of camera drones floating around the field. Seeing the crowd, Cortes flicked his comms over to the Company Channel.
"Oye. Somebody better be manning the RADAR Suites. The last thing we need is for those rebels to catch us unaware."
He got an assent from the comms officer on the other end of the line, and, as the timer ticked to 0800 hours, a white mobile suit was unloaded from the jet at last. His opponent was apparently ready at last.
The enemy machine rose to its full height of nearly 18m, and Cortes suppressed a chuckle as it marched towards him. It was skinny in the legs, an oversized set of backpack thrusters, a long cannon on one arm, and most ridiculous of all, it sported a Corinthian helmet crest. It looked like it had come from Solaris, or the very sort of Command Unit an egotistical officer would have.
His Wolverine, by contrast, was a boxy machine, barely coming up to the chest of the Tallgeese and painted the same feldgrau with brick red highlights as all the other machines used by the Warhawks. It boasted no flair, and the only modification made was ripping the C3 Slave unit out and using the extra weight saved to slap on another ton of armor. Aside from his personal settings, it was a stock unit, thirty years old, and one he had confidence in.
"Right on Time, Coronel." Cortes announced over his mech's speakers. "Are you ready?"
"Of course, Commander." Came back the reply as the Tallgeese met him in the center of the field.
"Bien. We stand 240 meters apart. When the explosive sounds, we go."
"Fine."
The two mechs positioned, armed their weapons, and waited. And when the explosive sounded, a planted charge that threw a cloud of sand into the morning air, they lept into action.
Zechs had questioned Romefeller's decision to hire mercenaries. Paying someone else to do your fighting for you seemed a cowardly way to fight a war, on this he and Treize had agreed. And when Treize had told him they had destroyed Gundam unit 01, Zechs had been both confused and angry. He had dug the Tallgeese out of mothball, lost a man testing it and bringing it up to operational condition, had trained and practiced to endure its incredible speeds, all so he could finally battle the Gundam on an even field. Only for these dogs of war to deny him his second match.
Then he had seen what they looked like: Shabby, disorganized dress. Squat, chunky Mobile Suits. Their commander wasn't even in uniform. Sloppy dress, sloppy soldiers. The only one who seemed to be on point was the Lieutenant McQuve. He had come up with this duel and its rules. He clearly knew how warriors fought and felt. Zechs could see it in his eyes. He wished he could have battled him instead of this chain smoking commander.
Regarding the opponent's mobile suit, it was rather sad. The tiny machine barely came up to the Tallgeese's cockpit. It had no hope of competing with his Tallgeese. Zechs was confident of that. Its legs were too short, its bulk too great. It was a sitting duck.
The second the signal sounded, Zechs hit the thrusters and shot up like a rocket, the Tallgeese throwing him against the restraints as he took to the air.
"With the power of the Tallgeese under my control, a contract soldier like you has no hope to compete!" Zechs grinned as he air braked and snapped the Dober Gun up to rain powerful blasts of energy down upon his targets. Targets? What?
Zechs paused his fire. Below him, the enemy MS was running about the battlefield...two of them? or one of them? His sensors couldn't be sure.
"Zechs to Transport. What's going on? Why are there two enemy units in the fight?" He radioed as he danced around the air, blue white bolts of energy flying past him from the right double gun of the enemy mech.
"Colonel Zechs, this is Meiser. We don't know what's going on, sir. We only see the one mech, but we are picking up a rise in electromagnetic waves."
"Electromagnetic waves?" A bemused Zechs asked as he hurled a few dober gun shots back at his uncertain number of foes, the attacks missing. "Wait....could he be jamming me?"
"That could explain the-" The radio was cut as the Tallgeese shuddered from a glancing shot. Systems stuttered, and displayed errors as they quickly tried to reboot, and Zechs could feel the thrusters cutting out and the 11 ton mobile suit began to fall.
Cortes set the Wolverine to a trot, the stutter of his cooling systems and the electric whine of the mech's Guardian ECM audible as the former worked to keep the sauna of a cockpit at survivable levels and the latter projected sensor ghosts to confused his airborne opponent. He arched an eyebrow as the thrusters of the Mobile Suit kicked off and it started to drop out of the sky and allowed himself a smirk. Yet another machine that did not have dampeners to protect against the electrical discharge of PPCs.
"Not so fast now, are you?" He remarked as he lined up for another double shot of Light PPC, trying to aim ahead of where the Tallgeese was falling. Cortes took his shot, but before they could cross the field, the thrusters of the Tallgeese flared up and halted the machine's fall. The shots went under the white mobile suit and the machine floated back on its verniers and landed, putting up its shield.
"Oh no. Por Favor. Go back up into the sky." Cortes quipped as he changed his mech's heading and accelerated back to a run, swinging wide around Zechs as he armed his MML 5 Launcher. "I want to see you face plant." He armed LRMs and fired a salvo in the Tallgeese's direction. "But if you insist on fighting on the ground, I can do that too."
Zechs shook his head to clear it as the Tallgeese's systems signaled all clear. Whatever he had hit him with, the discharge had played havoc on his avionics, and it took emergency boot up sequences to get everything back under control. He had narrowly avoided crashing into the sand, and the warrior was starting to get a better understanding of what had caused the downfall of his rival.
"Electronic warfare." Zechs muttered, now on edge. "Sensor Ghosts to baffle my HUD. And that gun of his scrambles electronics. This is a different kind of battle."
Missile lock alert sounded and Zechs swiftly worked his controls. He disengaged the Tallgeese's grip on its gun and drew a beam saber, slashing down a few of the inbound projectiles while catching one on his shield, which blew a chip out of the left edge of it the size of his mobile suit's fist.
"Missiles too." Zechs muttered. "Its a walking arsenal." Reacting quickly, he vectored his thrusters and dashed across the sand, speeding quickly around to have a shot at the enemy's back. Weapon swapped back to the dober gun, he fired from the hip, expecting to take out the machine's rear plating. To Zech's shock, however, the machine's torso seemed to turn almost fully around. It caught the blast in the chest and then fired another pair of energy bolts at him.
"That would have killed a Leo." He grunted as he thrusted up, letting the bolts pass underneath him.
Another missile alert and he swerved, a projectile peeling off some of his armor plate on his leg. Then another blast from the double gun, single shot this time. Zechs dodged again. Then another bolt. Then another flurry of missiles. And all the while the sensor ghosts kept interfering with his aim.
The missiles were no more damaging than an Aries' missile pod, but he had a lot of them. His enemy's Ion gun was far more dangerous. Zechs did not want to think about what would happen if it actually connected solidly.
"How much ammo could he have in that thing?" Zechs wondered as he skirted about the battlefield, keeping distance and firing the occasional dober gun blast as the enemy's weapons continued to nip at him. Flicking a glance over at his own ammo counter, he hissed in annoyance. "I don't think I have the luxury of waiting to find out. Fine then. We will take this to close quarters."
The enemy Mobile Suit seemed armed with nothing but guns on its stubby body. Zechs had the reach advantage in melee and both shield and sword. If he could get close, he could end it. And all the sand in the area could be of great use.
"Meiser will not be happy with all the grit." Zechs said as he powered up his thrusters. "But I'm not about to be outshone by this walking tank." He emitted a massive blast from the boosters and sand went everywhere.
The Enemy mech had been dancing about like a Wasp with MASC. Cortes was also constantly on the move, which made shooting difficult. But he was wearing the enemy down, that he was sure. What few hits had landed had failed to bypass armor. Heat was more troubling than anything, and he was managing that by alternating the fire on his light PPCs.
In this war of attrition, the Wolverine had the edge.
And then the little Puto made the battlefield a sandstorm.
"Mierda!" Cortes cursed as he started to fall back. The flying grit obscured his vision and baffled his sensors enough that the Mechwarrior lost sight of Zechs.
"Hmm...if I were a Caballero like the Coronel..." He muttered, eyes shifting from one display to another on his Neurohelmet's HUD. Narrowing his gaze, he flicked off the ECM Suite, cracked his knuckles, and then slammed on his jump jets, leaping to his left moments before a pink energy sword came slicing down, aiming for where his PPCs were on his right arm.
"Ha HA!" He crowed as he turned his torso and hit his missiles, only to receive the alert that he was still on LRM Feed. Cortes cursed as the missiles, lacking guidance, went everywhere but on target, and the towering mech came at him again, quickly closing the distance.
The Tallgeese was too close for the PPCs. But plenty close for his lasers. Cortes thumbed the fire button and his head mounted ER Medium laser punched a hole in the Tallgeese's left torso vent, while the ER Small Laser went wide.
Thinking twice about the melee idea, the Tallgeese thrusted up towards the sky. And Cortes followed, hitting his Jump Jets again to try and grab the Tallgeese's leg, but instead the Wolverine only managed to rip the toe off the left foot and came down hard on its own feet.
Alerts went off as the legs reported damage from a hard landing, and the Wolverine took another hit from the Dober Gun, Losing torso armor. In retaliation, Cortes sent missiles and PPC blasts straight back. The white mobile suit attempted a dodge, but seemed sluggish in response, and instead of escaping completely, one of the shots caught the left Vernier of the Tallgeese. Smoke billowing from the unit, the pilot managed to feather the thrusters in for a soft landing rather than crashing completely.
"Now you have nowhere to run, Coronel." Cortes stated as he advanced upon the smoking Tallgeese. The Wolverine was knocked back a step as a Chem Laser bolt struck the right torso, peeling away more armor. Cortes returned fire with his PPC, and the Tallgeese managed to skid out of the path of it on its damaged thrusters. The pilot made to fire the gun again. But nothing happened.
"Ammo Dry." Zechs growled as he looked at the mech drawing closer to him. He never would have expected them to put a beam rifle in the mech's head. And it seemed to have a secondary beam weapon on the gun arm. Commander Cortes just seemed full of surprises. Could he still even be beaten? The Tallgeese had taken significant damage. He was still mobile, but power control was an issue, as well as flight, and the missing toe was forcing him to have to balance the machine.
"But I'm not down yet." Zechs declared as he jettisoned the empty gun and drew his beam saber. He maneuvered the Tallgeese into a fighting pose, damaged shield up, and considered his next attack. If the enemy fired, he could still dodge it, but how to approach? He had attempted from the right before, to remove the Ion Gun from play, but Cortes' unusual torso twisting ability countered him. No matter how he approached, the head beam rifle would be an issue. But if he attacked the Missile launcher, perhaps he could cause a chain reaction?
As he plotted his next move, a curious thing happened. Cortes jettisoned his own PPC, then slid a leg forward and raised his robot's fists.
Zechs was impressed. The Commander had indicated he wanted to settle this with Melee.
"An even field then. I think I had you misunderstood, Commander Cortes." Zechs smiled as he maneuvered Tallgeese closer, slowly.
And then another curious thing happened. A sudden call from Treize Khushrenada.
"Zechs. I trust I have not caught you at a bad time." Treize said smoothly.
"I'm in the middle of a duel right now, sir." Zechs said. Behind his mask, his eyes darted from Treize to his opponent, as the Wolverine stood there, watching him and waiting for an attack.
"Against the Mercenaries. I know." Treize replied. "How are you fairing?"
"Not well. But I think I can-"
"I want you to give up, Zechs."
"What?" He asked, incredulous.
"If you continue, Zechs, it could cost you your life." Treize told him, his focus on something off camera. "The reckless strength of that mobile suit has made you reckless as well. If you keep going, the mercenaries will do to you what they did to that Gundam Pilot."
Zechs was quiet for a moment, until Cortes' deep voice came in on the external pickups. "Well, Coronel? Are you coming to me or am I coming to you?"
Zechs frowned. "Hold on a moment, Treize."
"Of course."
Flicking his external comms, Zechs responded to Cortes query. "Wait, I'm getting a call."
"...What, really?"
"Yes. From my superiors. Just one moment." As the Wolverine lowered its stance, Zechs turned back to Treize. "Sorry. You were saying?"
"Zechs, I know what those Mercenary Mobile Suits are capable of. I have had Lady Une investigate the matter personally. And it is all quite intriguing. Fighting as you are? You may not be able to beat them."
"Wait...you knew? And you didn't tell me?" Zechs said, taken aback.
"Yes. Because I knew what you would do. You would want to challenge them yourself. So I made sure you went in just as blind as Unit 01. You had no advantage over him, only your own skill and the power of your mobile suit. It was as even a starting position as I could give you. But I had to make sure to step in before it went too far. Because I can not afford to lose you, Zechs. There is too much at stake."
Zechs was stunned. Treize had read him like a book.
"I take it you have found your answers?" Treize asked, finally turning to look at Zechs.
The Ace looked to the Wolverine across the field, then to his own displays and controls. "I believe so. But I do not like the answer."
"There is much of this I do not like either, Zechs. But it is a necessity we suffer through it for now. In a few weeks, I want you to meet me here in Luxembourg. We will talk more then." Treize ended the communication, leaving Zechs alone in the cockpit with his thoughts.
"Commander, after deliberation, I believe I will have to cede the battle to you."
The Wolverine shifted its boxy body towards him as Cortes gave a reply. "Are you sure?"
"Were this a real battle, say against a Gundam, I can't imagine you'd toss away your gun." Zechs stated. "You had me. I concede. And according to your Lieutenant's rules, you get my jet. But I do ask you allow me to borrow it this one time. I would rather my people not have to drive back to the nearest OZ Base."
"I believe that can be arranged."
Treize looked out at the garden of his estate and breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to get to Zechs in time. Had he been too slow, it would have complicated things. Too soon, Zechs would not have gotten the satisfaction he needed from fighting the Warhawks.
He needed Zechs with his head in the game, not distracted by what-if scenarios. With the Warhawks keeping the Gundams quiet, OZ was able to operate more freely, and Tubarov's rumblings about "The Next Generation of Mobile Suits" were getting louder. He needed his faction ready for what may come, especially if he was to accomplish his grand vision for the future.
"Speaking of future events," He muttered as he glanced at his computer monitor, "The Moscow Conference is coming up. It needs a presence there. But so does my work here." He tapped his finger on his desk, then arched a large eyebrow. "Lady Une could stand to practice her diplomacy. I'll recall her from investigating the Warhawks for now." After a moment, a sly smirk spread across his lips as he thought of how difficult the Mercenaries might be making things for the Gundam Pilots. "Perhaps I should hire her some protection. After all, it wouldn't do to leave a lady unescorted..."
