#zechs machine

[saresai]

Part of my "Ghost in the Machine" series~

[calochortus]

Typische Werkzeuge aus dem Bergbau - Zeche Zollverein - Welterbe by Rüdiger Kappenstein Via Flickr: Typical tools from mining – Zollverein Mine – World Heritage

[tinyozlion]

Zechs Marquise / Milliardo Peacecraft:  A Heel Turn for the Greater Good

Zechs Merquise is the main character of Gundam Wing. 

Ah, you thought it was Heero, or maybe Relena, didn’t you? Well, judging by the first act of the series, this is clearly not the case!  

Zechs is the very first character we’re introduced to. He’s mysterious, handsome, ultra-competent. He shows concern for civilian safety and the safety of his men. He takes personal risks, fights on the front lines. He demonstrates right away that he has a strong ethical code that places great importance on the moral conduct of soldiers. His subordinates look up to him, his superiors value and respect him. We get all of this in act one of episode one.

Absolute hero material, so far! Hard to see why he's being framed like antagonist. Whatever, I'm sure he'll be on the winning team in no time! Just like Quattro Vegeta, or whatever.

By episode three, we’re introduced to the Tallgeese, a mobile suit that matches all the criteria for being the Big Damn Hero Machine that a protagonist would use: it’s ancient, it’s got a history, it’s the progenitor suit, it’s got no bells or whistles, it demands great strength and skill from the pilot but offers unmatched performance to those who can overcome its challenges. It’s the perfect suit for Zechs, and obviously the next step in his hero’s journey! This is the part of the story where he can finally meet the terrifying, so-far unbeatable enemy on equal footing. 

...But of course, OZ is also introduced in episode 3. So now we know that Zechs works for some faceless, secret military organization– but that’s fine, right? It’s the Alliance military that’s the Big Bad Guy, and Zechs seems to be part of some elite special unit that’s only for brave, self-sacrificing soldiers! OZ hasn’t done anything really bad yet, while on the other hand, the Gundam pilots have been a bunch of mercilessly violent loose cannons who’ll kill anyone who gets in their way.

In episode four, we meet Noin, an immediately likable and equally skilled OZ officer who has a deep personal connection with Zechs. Already this is a power couple we can get behind. We watch as Noin suffers a humiliating defeat and a barrage of misogyny from a Gundam pilot, who kills a bunch of young recruits in their sleep. Definitely not a good look for the Gundam Team! while Zechs and Noin (and Treize, in a more literal sense) come out of this episode smelling like roses. 

Just look at them! They’re going to make such a great team. I hope they give those homicidal Gundam kids what for!

It’s only when episode five rolls around that we finally see what OZ is really about: assassinations, covert schemes, foul play, political manipulation, and the ruthless accumulation of power. Uh oh! 

But surely, Lady Une is the real baddy here, and Treize is no more than a shadowy puppet master whose true motives remain mysterious. Zechs and Noin are still such obvious Good Guy candidates, they really ought to be the main protagonists of this show by now! The big scary OZ that the Colony rebels warned us about seems a far cry from the OZ we’ve seen so far. Even after the point where OZ becomes the new uncontested Bad Guy, Zechs and co. keep their noses pretty clean.

And then! Then Zechs reveals his tragic past, his double-identity, his secret Count of Monte Cristo/ Man in the Iron Mask plot to avenge the ruin of the Sanc Kingdom and the deaths of his family, the noble house of Peacecraft! How romantic, how dashing! His quest continues to best the Gundams, but this takes on the hue of personal enlightenment; Zechs wants to defeat the Gundam pilots to prove he is capable of being a “True Soldier”, worthy of the power he’s been given, worthy of what has been sacrificed to his cause. 

Boy, that’s some hero behavior! And it gets even better: Zechs and Noin leave OZ to begin championing the Sanc Kingdom and its policies of Total Pacifism. No one can say Zechs isn’t one of the good guys now, right? He even dresses up all spiffy in white and becomes an ambassador to promote peace in the colonies! 

–Or rather, he tries to. 

Because despite having gained a reporte with a few of the Gundam pilots, he still hasn’t managed to ally with them. They still view him as an enemy, no matter how hard or how desperately he tries to convince them that he’s turned over a new leaf. 

He can’t beat them, and he can’t join them. Why?

Pictured: the saddest boys in the universe.

The second act of Gundam Wing is a crucible where every character is forced to re-evaluate their place in the ongoing conflict. You can see and feel his frustration building as the future spirals out of control. 

What is the purpose of Zechs Merquise, or of Milliardo Peacecraft?

He has refused to be OZ’s mascot, the Lightning Count. He’s not capable of bringing peace to the colonies by himself. He can’t join the Gundams in their fight against OZ. He can’t even protect the Sanc Kingdom, because the very act of fighting in its name is used as an excuse to wipe it out. 

He bids a heartfelt adieu to his Big Damn Hero Machine, the Tallgeese, and finds himself in possession of its polar opposite: the Epyon, a machine made to scour its pilot and the world of hypocrisy. 

Finally, Zechs has his answer– the reason why his purpose eludes him, why all his best intentions go astray, why the harder he tries to align his moral compass to the Gundam pilots or embrace his pacifistic inheritance, the more lost he becomes: He is not the hero. 

He has been trying and failing to be a hero since episode one because this isn’t a story about noble, heroic, chivalrous warriors doing battle in order to gain personal clarity and strength.

It’s not about man-vs-man conflict resolving in a test of skill. If it were, Zechs would have been victorious and completed his hero’s journey by now, and the show would be over. 

But that was never the role he was meant to play. That’s not what the stage requires. The third act begins as he accepts a new mantle, and becomes the villain history needs in that moment to bring everything together.

“Zechs considers this place his grave. [...]He intends to pay for the sin of purging humanity, all by himself.”

–Not to purge humanity of “violent earthlings”, as his White Fang propaganda speech stated, but to purge the current generation of the means to wage mechanized warfare, and of the desire for combat and retribution itself, in order to finally bring the cycle of war between the earth and space to an end. 

…But of course, nothing ever really ends, does it? History dances forward, with or without you, and all the sacrifices and fail-safes in the world will not stop new challenges from arising. 

Nevertheless, if it is possible to choose, by means of noble principle, to be a villain for the sake of the greater good, in the full assurance of one’s own destruction and revilement, then surely that is also in some winding, definitionally tragic way, a path to heroism– and if this is so, then Zechs is strong (and disillusioned) enough to take it. 

I do not think that the series supports the idea that his actions or their consequences are justified– only that they achieve their immediate purpose: setting the stage for peace. For now.

...And Now, An Important Note on Gundam Meta:

Zechs is what is referred to in the parlance of the Gundam fandom as a “Char Archetype”, or “Char Clone”-- a term I think is of debatable accuracy. For a longer discussion on Char Aznable and his role in MS Gundam, please see the entry: The Char Aznable Problem.  But I want to make it clear that knowing about Char’s backstory IS NOT a necessary prerequisite to understanding Zechs’s story. 

Zechs and Char share a lot of DNA as characters, that’s unavoidable– a masked man in red who poses a threat to the main Gundam pilot is a staple of the genre; he’s deliberately an homage to Char, as much an expected feature of a Gundam series as... well, Gundams. That much is not in question. 

However: Char’s motivations only make sense in the context of the original Gundam series; if you try to apply the same logic within the structure of Gundam Wing, it becomes gibberish. But the gibberish is by design– If you don’t understand the context behind Zech’s late-series genocidal spiel on why “earthlings are the ultimate threat to peace so we must destroy earth, the source of all conflict yadda-yadda blah-blah”, then… yeah, you’re up to speed. No one else listening to White Fang’s broadcast understood it either. It’s MEANT to sound like the ramblings of an extremist madman who poses a catastrophic and unavoidable threat to both Earth AND the Space Colonies he claims to represent. That’s the basic nature of his Ozymandius Gambit: invent something scary enough that everyone has to band together to fight it.

So you don’t need to know about Char to understand Zechs– but knowing about Char does make Zech’s role (and Treize’s role!) in Gundam Wing that much more interesting.

Zechs is not a Char Clone, he is a conversation with the idea of Char, taking a theme and transposing it into a new composition.

--Anyway, it’s a little unfair to try and force a comparison between Zechs and Char, when Char had MS Gundam, Zeta Gundam, and Char’s Counterattack to do everything he did, and Zechs only had Wing. 

Now, I’m not a mathematician or anything, but I’d say that makes Zechs roughly…

Three times faster.

[ikuzeminna]

Why is crapping on Gundam Wing by people reviewing all the Gundam series such a trend? And in the silliest manner possible, because out of the million flaws Gundam Wing has, they never pick any of those. Instead they make stuff up. "The characters are flat." Oh yeah, sure, no depth at all to the guy who starts out as a merciless killer FUBARing every important mission he's sent on (and I love what a drama queen he is), gradually regaining his humanity once he's removed from the battlefield, only to end up horrified by being forced by a machine into becoming a ruthless killer again. Or the guy who spends the entire series preaching 'carpe diem' while he himself is the living embodiment of 'memento mori'.

Or the snarky mercenary with a massive Middle Child Syndrome who sacrifices the only thing he's fought for his entire life (himself) to keep another kid from turning out like him. Or said kid who goes through 50 shades of bonkers and every human emotion in existence during the show. Don't even get me started on the ladies. "Wufei is not interesting." Of course not. Why would the sole guy who doesn't fight for the freedom of the colonies but instead wages a personal war of revenge and a promise he's trying to keep to his late wife be interesting? Which explains why he's a wild card and fights on Mariemaia's side in EW. "The Gundams are overpowered. They never get any damage." Yeah, why didn't they send five suits made of Explodium against a world army? Also begs the question why we see them get repaired in the third episode already. And why every pilot is also a trained mechanic who can fix his own suit. Since the Gundams are indestructible anyway. Seriously. The show itself spells it out. Gundanium may be near indestructible but the electronics and other parts get fried perfectly fine which, surprise surprise, renders a Gundam useless. Never mind that Noin, in episode 4 already, was willing to use a weapon that could damage Gundanium but would overheat on Earth. "Relena's pacifism should never have worked against Romefeller. The show is dumb for presenting it as the solution." .....It didn't??? The whole Cinq arc made a point out of pacifism not working with Romefeller and the Mobile Dolls around. Just- what??? "Gundam Wing isn't realistic." This is like complaining about talking animals in The Lion King. Gundam Wing is supposed to be anti-UC. Being unrealistic was intentional. Being focused on ideologies was intentional. Not focusing on character struggles (too much) was intentional. Having a mess of a plot because you have one million different factions was intentional. If reviewers watch all the UC series and don't get that Gundam Wing has the exact opposite setup then I don't know what to tell them. Complain about talking animals while you watch a Disney movie, I guess. Pick on the horrid pacing. Pick on Relena and Heero being nutjobs in the beginning. Pick on yelling from cliffs. Pick on Noin being a doormat to Zechs. Pick on Zechs being a Char clone. Pick on there being way too many characters in the beginning. Pick on the Dorothy/Quatre connection coming out of nowhere or Une giving herself split personalities because of a dude.

There is a plethora of flaws to choose from. Also, get out of my face with UC being better. That salt episode was the dumbest thing I've ever seen in my life and I've watched Seed Destiny.

[incorrectgundamwingquotes]

[at Preventers HQ]

Zechs, to the Gundam Pilots: What the hell are you guys doing to the vending machine?

Wufei: We’re in the middle of an important mission—

Zechs: Okay, you know what? I don't care. In fact, as soon as I started asking the question, I thought to myself, "Why are you asking this? You don't care about the answer."

[the-abyssal-lord]

The Sundering of Stones

Summary: The Abyss Chasers warband invade an inconsequential mining world for a forgotten artifact. Introductory to major characters.

CW: extreme violence, as you would expect from the universe of Warhammer 40,000

++

It was the thundering cracks of artillery-fire that awoke Zech, his body giving under his own weight and sliding from the standing position he had drifted in, landing in the upturned earth and wretched mud of the narrow trench. Blearily he struggled in the mulch and rose to his feet. While he canted his head left and right to re-acquire his lasgun, his wake-deafened ears were already picking up the shouting of his fellow squadmate Herren.

“…Come on… Zech! Come on! The line is moving ahead, the barrage cleared a path!”

Zech groaned, slinging his weapon over his shoulder and started to trudge behind Herren. The pair made their way through the trench, ducking under haphazard beams and supports that criss-crossed throughout the squalid divet in the dirt. They passed a few others that fell in with them, sensing the intent. The air felt hot and cold at the same time to Zech, as he blinked away the last of his impromptu doze. Finally the assembled squad reached the semi-circular clearing where makeshift ladders rose to disappear over the edge of the trench. Lasguns and stubbers were checked, and the group clambered up.

Herren was first, and he was the first to be reduced to a smoking, molten husk as a burst of white-hot plasmic energy collided with what little armour he had. The charred chunks falling away off the ladder. Zech cursed as he waved behind himself, signaling the others to get off the ladder as fast as they could. It was too late.

Zech saw the man behind him pulled off the ladder like a child’s doll, and then torn in two by armoured hands, the others in similar states, strewn about the mud of the clearing. The figure that had committed the man’s murder was a towering, nightmarish giant. Black armour twisted into something horrific, growths of bone and flesh mixing with metal. Burning violet lenses met Zech’s eyes, and then the giant’s hand reached.

++

All was still in the void, the carnage on the planet below might have seemed like flickers of a distant fire, and in the blackness there was a spark of its own. The small mote then quickly grew, ripping its way across like a baleful grin. Incorporeal spirit-things lashed tendrils and tried to bite down with great teeth upon the vessel that emerged from the warp translation. It seemed to stretch impossibly for a moment before its entirety touched real-space and almost snapped back to its true shape.

A great ship, once, long ago, one could have identified it as an Imperial strike cruiser. Now it appeared twisted and marred by the very energies it had just departed from. The warp-rift closed behind the ship, and it slowly adjusted itself to fall into orbit above the war-torn planet.

With the light of the planet’s sun glinting off the side of the cruiser, its wicked form was clearer. Bristling with gun-batteries and modified over centuries of conflict, it hung as a monument to the great and terrible conflict of the Long War. The Echo of Ecstasy would send a message to the small collection of guarding ships that orbited between the planet and its moons.

Quickly the other ships belonging to the dread forces invading the world fell in line with the larger, and in a spearhead formation they lit thrusters to approach the emplaced enemy.

The emptiness was alight with fire in the next moment, long range batteries thundering from the Imperial fleet. The dark forces met in kind with lance cannons, void shields of each collection illuminating the hulls with colours akin to an oil-splash.

Within the bridge of the flagship the mistress of the vessel shot orders to the twisted crew, her body shunted into the command-throne with countless cables. As her voice rang out, her cybernetic enhanced mind interfaced with the bloodthirsty machine-spirit of the ship. Like a caged beast and likely teetering the line of possession, he growled in her thoughts for carnage and destruction. Again, this time strained, more of her orders were bellowed to the wretched deck-slaves.

Her name was Cecilia. Captain Cecilia Varo. Once the ship-mistress of an Imperial frigate under the Navis Nobilite, she now served this vile warband. Along with her was the Navigator of her former post, who was likely even further gone than she.

“Begin maneouvre to bring our broadside to bear!” Cecilia shouted, wincing as the neural feedback of the machine-spirit roared.

Like the ocean predators of ancient Terra, the Chaos fleet turned to their sides, circling around the embattled Imperials, and let loose the hellfire of their main cannons.

The great mag-lock doors of the bridge hissed open. Captain Cecilia heard it but was too preoccupied with the barrage against the weakening shields. She felt a trickle of blood from her lip, she must have been grimacing too hard. What followed the bridge doors opening was the immensely heavy clang of footsteps.

“All is well… Captain?” A voice said from just out of her periphery. A voice that was almost too low to be human, ragged and corrupt, the words rumbling out halfway between a hiss and a growl.

She recognized it immediately, of course. She replied, “of course, my lord. They cannot hold for much longer. Augurs estimate their void shields will last mere moments further.”

The figure looming behind her command-throne gave a grunt of approval. The closest she has ever gotten to praise from the true master of the ship.

“See to it. My brothers and I await the turmoil below. We cannot embark until those ships are eliminated,” the voice said.

She nodded, cabling extending from the back of her head, snaking out from under her hair, shaking along with the movement. The figure then moved to the side, stepping towards the guard-rail of the helm.

Many in the Imperium had heard the tales of the Emperor’s angels of death. Legends and glories of the gene-wrought ideal warriors that descended upon worlds to bring ruin to His enemies. Few had ever actually seen one. Fewer still have spoken to one. Captain Cecilia would never have expected to encounter such a being, and she surely never would have known it to be one not serving the Emperor.

The Astartes standing only a few metres from her was clad in black armour, the jagged edges corrupt and damaged from centuries of war and the touch of the warp. A single pauldron, the right, was a deep and faded purple, the insignia upon the great pauldron, a curled, clawed hand of white. His towering form hunched slightly from the great jump-pack that seemed fused to the rest of his war-plate. Just as the bare flesh of his neck seemed to melt away into the mechanics. In place of natural legs he seemed to have cybernetic replacements, terminating in claw machine-feet like that of a bird of prey. His head turned just enough for him to side-eye the ship-mistress.

Once his features might have been described as handsome, long white hair, shaved to his pale skin around the sides and back, billowing over one side. Half his face seemed like that of one subject to burns, both sagging and pulled in areas, little corruptions of the flesh. His good eye, his left eye, was a bold violet. Glimmering with sadistic cunning.

“You seem distressed, captain.” The Chaos marine said plainly.

Cecilia furrowed her brow, eyes darting, observing both her Lord, and the battle playing out.

“It shan’t be long… Now!” She exclaimed.

The enemy shields had finally given, shimmering across the ships and blinking out. The Chaos fleet unleashed another barrage, hammering into the hulls of the Imperial fleet. Some vessels were torn apart in the flurry, others began to turn and flee as fast as their engines would take them. The Astartes face pulled into a grin.

++

Thrusters roared as the Thunderhawk gunship broke into the atmosphere of the war-torn planet. Flak bursts only enhancing the turbulence. Its hull was black as the rest of the vessels belonging to this warband, little dashes of faded purple on the wings. A banking turn and it rocketed lower.

Cresting one of the foothills of the region it landed not too far from where the dirge of battle could be heard, a trench-line broken mere days before, and yet the Imperials didn’t abandon it. The landing ramp lowered, hydraulics hissing as it thudded into the damp earth. Following it was the clamour of massive boots.

A squad of five heretic Astartes stepped onto the planet’s surface. A few surveying their immediate surroundings. Final to emerge was the hunched form of their leader. His hair beginning to whip against the wind.

He flexed his left hand, which had long since been encased in the mechanical casing of a lightning claw. The bladed ends of the fingers sliding over one another.

“Isn’t this a wretched rock… Get moving, we must make for the fire-base, quick as possible,” he ordered his battle-brothers.

The other Chaos marines began to trudge on. First was a brutish creature who seemed to twitch slightly in any moment of idling. The sides of his helm soaring up in the manner of those that served the Blood God. A massive chainaxe was mag-locked to his power-pack. In place of the purple arms that uniformed the small team, he retained the crimson of his former allegiance.

Second was a hooded Astartes, using a great metal staff like a walking stick. His features hidden away despite the gloom not being so immense that it would shadow his face entirely.

Third, an Astartes carrying an impressive bolter that seemed modified for long range engagements. Unlike the others with him, his armour was seemingly untouched by the ravages of the Empyrean. Small serpentine scale patterns etched into his greaves and bracers.

Fourth, a bare-headed marine with wild features, greying, black hair left loose and unkempt, with an equally in disarray beard that brushed over the gorget of his war-plate.

And finally, fifth; an Astartes with the trappings of an Apothecary, though it was rare to see among the forces of Chaos. Small dashes of white standing out against the black armour. Implements upon his bracer and cresting his power-pack.

This squad marched up and over the hill in a loose formation, a mere shadow of the discipline shown by their Imperial counterparts.

The silent march was broken after a few moments by the wild-looking brother, “what was this world called again?” He inquired of the hooded marine.

“Emancha V. Not near our usual haunts but ‘twould seem that our Lord has interests here,” he answered.

The bearded one huffed. “I see. Has he graced us with… what exactly that would be?”

“A relic,” the marine with the stalker bolter replied. “Something belonging to his old Legion.”

“When did they ever come here? It seems hardly the place I’d catch them visiting,” the wild one said.

The serpentine marine shrugged. “Matters little. I’d assume we’ll know more when we reach the rest of our forces.”

The squad continued on, eyes and helm optics trained for any surprise movements from their surroundings. After quite the trek, seeing the blooms of light in the distance from the clash, they saw the edges of the Chaos line.

Countless of their mortal servants had made work of digging trenches of their own that weaved into pre-established ones recently captured. The Astartes saw pikes with bloodied corpses raised high and tattered banners with their claw emblem flapping away. Mutants and beastmen dragging dismembered bodies into hulking piles at the bases of the great war-banners. Looming over a great gathering of them was a dread machine, a Chaos knight, its mechanical head shifting slightly to the left and right, keeping watch.

The squad descended the hillside into the encampment. Their leader making the thrum of mortals bow heads and part like a tide. He approached the only thing that could be conceived of as a tent, the rest more like scraps hung over rusted metal beams.

At its entrance he stood, a curtain gently flowing against the wind.

“Emerge. We have much to discuss,” he said.

A bit of a rustle and from the tent came a mortal woman, long well-kept obsidian-black hair and traditionally beautiful features. She wore a robe the colours of the warband, with a mantle of armoured plates that donned the claw insignia upon one pauldron.

With a bow of her head, “my lord Silas. Welcome to the conflict.”

The Chaos Lord Silas Decurin hissed, “indeed, a conflict. Tell me, how did this start exactly? Emancha wasn’t supposed to have any Loyalist presence from what your gleanings entailed.”

The mortal witch, Lucina, met his gaze. “Simply put, they tracked us. This is no mere token force of the enemy, my lord. All reports seem to say an Inquisitor is leading this force. Even with the break of their fleet you achieved, more are on the way.”

Silas bristled with rage at the mention of the Imperial Inquisition. He knew full well there was only one of their numbers so keen on following his movements beyond the Eye.

“Speak this inquisitor’s name, Lucina.” He demanded.

Lucina dipped her head again, “Roslyn Jesenia.”

Lord Decurin barked a grim laugh, “as I suspected. I wonder if this planet has more to it than I thought, even she would not come to some useless rock just for me.”

He turned to his squad, “I suppose now marks a good time to explain why we came here.”

++

A short time later, the heretic Astartes departed the witch’s tent.

“Really? A daemon blade, here on this rock?” The feral-looking marine, Jormund Helsson, asked Lord Decurin.

Silas nodded, cabling and wires protruding from his head swaying with the motion, “Aye.”

The hooded sorcerer hummed in thought, “I haven’t sensed such a thing.”

“Perhaps ‘tis not a thing that can be sensed so easily, Vezeral.” The serpentine marine replied.

The Berzerker amongst them grunted, turning his helmeted head between his gathered fellows. “We seek it out then?”

Silas made a pointed look, “once we know more, Tyrax.”

Another dissatisfied grunt came from the blood-hungry marine.

The Chaos Lord then turned to another, “Naethar, have your augurs caught anything?”

The marine whose armour is marked by scales shakes his head, red helm optics scanning through countless displays of visual and auditory pickups. “Jamming. Interference, maybe. Could be the loyalists, could be something else.”

Silas lets out a ragged sigh, gesturing for the squad to follow him. They move through the lines back up of where the chaos witch Lucina’s tent lies, where there is a makeshift structure set-up a stone’s throw behind it for the Astartes. More a shack than anything, but it would serve well enough while the damned brothers organized their plans, and thoughts.

Within, the apothecary Celtrian works on the remains of some form of the local wildlife of the planet. He tilts his head up upon the entry of his team, before just as quickly returning to his study.

“We cannot afford to stay here for long, regardless of my desires. If the witch spoke true to us, and she knows the cost of lying, there are far more loyalists in transit to this heap,” Silas began, his eyes scanning the group.

“I do not know what the corpse-emperor’s inquisition is bringing to bear, but we do not have the full might of the Abyss Chasers with us here. A token force, even with a knight.”

The baleful squad goes over simplistic plans to reach behind the curtain of fire that the Imperials have emplaced. From what the reports show the force that has met the Chasers is merely an Astra Militarum detachment, re-routed from their original destination. Damn their eyes! Thought Silas. if it was not for the variable whimsy of the warp, they could have arrived at this pitiful world days earlier.

The chaos marines would need to go the long way around, for as glorious and damned as they are, even Astartes would not survive wading head-long into the dug-in firing lines of the Imperial Guard. More of their brothers aboard the Echo would also be eager to engage their hated foes. The plan was laid; the command squad would begin an advance around the edge of a nearby forest, the majority of which had been scoured away by the initial assaults. Under cover of the foliage, and the Echo of Ecstasy in orbit above launching drop-pods full of heretic Astartes, Silas and his men could reach the rearguard of the Imperials.

Silas grinned, and gods willing, find the Inquisitor.

++

Hours later, when the light of the planet’s sun had become a dim haze, the Abyss Chasers enacted their plan. On foot Lord Decurin and his squad broke for the tree-line, while the main force began a forward push towards the Imperial Guard lines. In orbit, the strike cruiser maneuvered to let loose drop-pods containing additional squads to reinforce the mortals. The warband was an eclectic mixture of the traitor Legions, and that versatility is what allowed them such strikes despite their small numbers. They were raiders above all, prolonged conflict was best left to the renegade mortals and mutants.

Silas and the squad watched on their brisk trek as spears of light careened into the trenches of the loyalist scum. They were just mortals, Silas mused. Barely worth the bolt shells. The chaos lord almost wished to face his loyalist cousins in a worthy fight, but he knew it was for the best that such things did not occur. Losing numbers in the name of vain glory was not on the agenda, not this time.

“These woods are sparse, and silent,” growled Jormund.

“Would you prefer we be beset upon by wretched rock-chippers? See how a rusted pickax stands up to your war-plate?” Teased Vezeral.

Jormund huffed, “just desiring more than a prowl with no prey.”

“Silence,” said Silas. “We still have a-ways to go till we reach the back-lines.”

The chatter halted at his order, and the chaos marines continued on.

It wasn’t much longer until they reached the next clearing. Just at the edge of sight was the mining complex in this region. A massive opening into the earth of the planet, lined with machinery of immense size. Emancha V was noted for its exportation of simple resources, granite and other materials for structural production. In the grand scheme of the Imperium, ultimately minor in importance. Which only made all the Astartes, Silas included, wonder why such a prized artifact would be interred here.

Tyrax was the first to charge into the lonesome trench that buffered the area between the mine entrance and the battle-lines. It was unlikely the guardsmen defending it, who were half-asleep at their posts, even had time to react. The Berzerker of the blood god tore them to pieces. Jormund, in his own rash fury, joined quickly after. In bloody moments the line was cleared. The command squad all looked towards the great shadowed entrance into the below. In the distance, chaos marines and cultist forces engaged the Imperial Guard. A backdrop of carnage for the chase to begin.

++

The descent was just as quiet as the forested trudge. Voids of darkness sparsely illuminated by hanging portable lumens at regular intervals. Of course the plunging blackness was nothing to the creatures that walked through it. Helm lenses cycled through displays of night-sight and heat detection, and gene-enhanced eyes pierced the gloom with ease. The heretic Astartes under Lord Decurin walked with purpose, as Naethar’s auspex already mapped out the winding corridors of the first 50 levels of the mine.

This scanning also revealed a chamber about 5 levels down that was the likely location of their target. The array revealed connections to the surface for communication, if anything it indicated where the leadership of the Guard was, and that was enough for now.

“Mapping concluded,” chimed Naethar.

Silas nodded, reaching to his belt to procure his own helm. He rarely wore it, but it was one of the few things not fused to his form through warp energies. With an airy hiss the helmet clicked into place, and the lenses flared to life as his display kicked in. Sure enough, the entire mine complex was laid out for the squad. Silas could see the room they were heading for pinged in particular with a secondary colouration.

“Keep formation close, watch all entries,” the chaos lord ordered.

The squad reached the area indicated in little time, following a great bite into the earth that wound down like a spiral. The level they reached was different, more constructed. Wrought metal walls and a large enough for their forms mag-lock door. Wasting no time Silas simply kicked it in with a cybernetically enhanced blow, and the Astartes funneled in.

A large hall, rail-tracks in the centre with a cart of stone slabs. It was at this sight that something clicked for Silas.

“By the dark gods. That’s what this is for!” He exclaimed, turning to the squad.

Naethar inclined his head, “aye my lord. The mapping made clear that the very base of this sprawling complex has a far older structure buried below. It almost appeared to be a ship, lanced into the planet’s crust, and then twisted and compressed over centuries of burial.”

Silas sneered, “the location of the relic. This warp-damned inquisitor discovered it as well.”

“Why would she seek it?” Vezeral interjected. “She serves the corpse-Emperor does she not? What use would an artifact of the gods be?”

“Many uses,” Silas said. “The false Emperor’s lackeys often seek to ‘confiscate’ objects of power to us. Either to destroy, or utilize for themselves.”

“A daemon blade? Wonder if she plans to hoist it and stab you, lord Decurin.” Tyrax poked.

Silas gave a smirk within his helm, “perhaps. Would be a sight, a fragile mortal attempting such a feat.”

The squad reached the doors to what the mapping said would be the room of interest. A keypad kept the entry locked, and in this case the chaos lord wanted a subtler approach. So Naethar went to work.

It didn’t take very long for the former Alpha Legionnaire to break the code of the door, and with a hiss it slid open. The room was grimly lit, a handful of lumens upon the walls. In the centre was a large hololithic display table, the graphics fizzing in and out of focus. On the far side stood three individuals, two were garbed in the finely made armour of the Tempestus Scions, stormtroopers of the Inquisition. The third in the middle was dressed darkly, a heavy tailed jacket hanging over a black armoured bodyglove, and a silver chain hanging around the neck, ending with the I-shaped emblem of the Emperor’s holy Inquisition.

“Lady Inquisitor Jesenia. It’s been some time,” Silas greeted.

The raven-haired Inquisitor glared at the chaos marine, leveling a stub revolver. “Traitor.”

“Come now,” Silas spoke with a sickly sweet tone. “You really expect that to harm us?”

She made no movement that Silas could detect, perhaps fear had gripped her soul?

“You know why we have come here. Give me the relic, and your death will be swift.”

The scions then raised their hellguns in tandem with the Inquisitor. Those posed a greater threat than the meekly pistol, but an enclosed space, six chaos marines against three mortals? It was a foolish gesture.

“Where. Is. The blade.” Silas snarled.

A door flew open behind Jesenia, she popped off a shot and made a break for it, the scions lighting up the gloom with red flashes from their hellguns. The troopers were dead in seconds, Tyrax and Jormund charging around the display table and eviscerating the mortals in gore-filled fashion. Silas roared in anger, pulling his plasma pistol and letting off a shot into the doorway, it hit the back wall in a sizzling bloom. A moment later a new figure filled the passage, standing as tall as the heretics, and aiming a bolter.

“Primaris!” Naethar shouted, quickly finding whatever cover he could.

The room filled with the bark of a Cawl-pattern bolt rifle, the traitors scrambling behind cogitator blocks that filled the room. Already the machinery was being blown apart, they had little time. Tyrax bellowed a cry and bull-rushed the Primaris, the loyalist had little time to react, pulling a combat knife. The former World Eater tackled the loyalist, snarling and screaming like a wild beast. The Primaris tried to find purchase with his combat knife but to no avail as Tyrax pinned one arm, with animalistic fervour he pulled, ripping the ribbed under-armour, and then the flesh, and finally tearing away the bone.

Jormund came from the other side, hiking his chainsword over his head and bringing it down, the rev of the teeth mixing with a grotesque gurgle and ripping sound as the corrupt wolf beheaded the loyalist.

The body slumped and went still, for all the enhancement of the new breed, two veterans of the Long War were still more than enough to take down a Primaris marine.

When the cacophony of fighting went quiet, Silas stalked to the bloodied corpse, and looked down. White armour, with an arm of royal purple. He laughed, it was like a mockery of their own war-plate. The foe’s angel to their daemon.

“What Chapter is this, Naethar? This is bad comedy,” Silas said.

Naethar came to Silas’s side, “ident tag… Sons of the Phoenix. Successors of the Imperial Fists, scions of Rogal Dorn.”

Lord Decurin’s laugh barked louder, “Phoenix? Dorn? By the gods, loyalist scum grows more deluded with every century.”

Naethar nodded, “indeed my lord. Shall we track the inquisitor?”

Silas turned to the group, “find the blade. She surely is heading that way as well.”

++

After a further trek of the hall, the Chaser's command squad reached the end, where the area opened fully into a free fall into the depths. A rickety looking lift was the only thing bolted to the side of the chasm. The marines carefully stepped onto it, testing their immense weight against the cables that held the platform aloft. Despite appearances, it seemed sturdy enough for all six to stand on.

“She came through here. Likely descending this very lift. Aren’t you all excited to see what lies at the bottom?” Silas hissed.

Naethar hit the cogitation pad, and with a squeal of grinding machinery, the elevator dropped.

When they reached the base of the towering bore, at least three local minutes had passed. The chaos marines fanned out as the surroundings were natural cave formations instead of the carved passages of the mine. Silas looked about, his auspex clicking through displays. Eventually his eyes trained on a tunnel, he signaled for the team to follow his lead, and in they went.

Further walking, they reached what was likely the side hull of a ship, just barely peering out from the rock face it was lodged into. A terrible ripped gash in the metal was their entrance, a single lantern hung off a spear of metal, the only illumination in the absolute darkness of the pit. The chaos marines entered, doubly cautious as it was not out of the realm of possibility they encountered further loyalist marines.

The interior was just as devastated as the outside, wiring, tubing, struts and other structural pieces of the ship were in disarray, making the hall look almost as haphazard as the natural tunnels the squad had just come from. Bits of the natural stone were crushing in on the hull, some ripping through. It was akin to a space hulk, but they were far from the cold embrace of the void. The Astartes emerged into a large room, turned upwards in the centre like on an axis. Folding. There Silas made out enough to identify the owners of this wreck.

“Third Legion… Emperor’s Children,” he breathed.

Banners were torn but still vaguely readable, the deep, proud purple of Lord Decurin’s parent Legion. Despite the ravages of time, a single stained-glass mosaic of the Primarch in his original form emblazoned a far wall. There was a bench with two helmets left astray. Maximus pattern, Legion colours.

“Bring back memories, sire?” Vezeral inquired.

Silas grunted, “a few. Let us continue, this at least explains what an artifact of my old brother’s would be doing here.”

The group continued, through a passage on the opposite side of the chamber. The next room was even larger, a vaulted cathedral chamber.

“Appears to be the Reclusiam,” Naethar suggested.

“What a fine place for a relic,” Jormund chuckled.

At the centre of the chapel was a plinth, the item they’d been on this hunt for was held aloft in one of the few things still functioning, a stasis field. The sword was long, wide-bladed. Similar to a common power sword. However it held a cracked surface that seemed to bleed violet light, hissing against the time-locked energy of the field. The Warp and chronology did not play well together, and it was a marvel the stasis did not fail in this ship’s long grave-bound slumber.

Silas stepped up towards it, smashing his lightning claw into the cogitation array at the plinth’s base. The stasis field gave way, and the sword clattered onto the stone. The chaos lord of the Abyss Chasers grasped the leathered hilt and lifted the blade aloft. He could hear dreadful whispers in his ears, a daemon slept within, dormant, but would be like to stir at the merest prod.

Naethar began, “Is that wise, my Lord? We still know little of—“

“Silence! We’ve gone through enough for this blasted thing.” Silas snapped, cutting off the question.

“Where is the Inquisitor?” Celtrian asked.

Tyrax replied, “does it matter? We have the relic, let us be done with this place.”

“It is curious, I imagine she fled to the surface then, instead. Abandoning the artifact for our Lord to gather, weighing the options, I understand her method. A single mortal, even an Inquisitor, against all of us?” Naethar explained.

“A coward!” Jormund bellowed with a chortle.

“Or wise enough to know when beaten,” Naethar pointed back.

“Enough,” Silas demanded. “I can hear the daemon waking. Let us leave, return to the Echo of Ecstasy.”

The command squad obliged, turning to depart.

“Halt,” a voice rang out. Deep and altered, much like the heretic’s own.

The chaos marines trained their sights. The Inquisitor stood next to another Primaris, more decorated than the previous, wearing the same colours as the dead fool in the hololithic room.

“I am Lieutenant Edriel of the Sons of the Phoenix. My squad travels with the lady Inquisitor Roslyn Jesenia. One of that squad lies dead and defiled, brother Jessian. For your crime, and all your history of treachery, you will die here.”

The Primaris inclines his helmeted head towards the Inquisitor, “go, my lady. Take it back to the ship. If I do not return in a cycle, inform my brothers of my death.”

Jesenia nods curtly, and sprints down the passage the Chaos marines came into the chamber from.

“A fucking coward!” Jormund calls out.

The loyalist marine turns his lens gaze to the wolf, “no, traitor. She simply has more tasks to honour the Emperor.”

The lieutenant draws an artificed power sword, the blade igniting with cracks of blue energy. He falls into a warrior’s stance, two hands upon the grip.

“A fine display, lapdog.” Silas states. “He is mine, the rest of you go after the Inquisitor. If I don’t return? Well good luck figuring out who’s in charge.”

The squad tears off down the hall, and Silas steps forward, his lightning claw already alight with chaotic arcs.

++

Two giants clashed in the silent, dead Reclusiam of a forgotten ship. Honour-blade against warp-tainted claw. Again and again the Lieutenant tried to make great swings towards the chaos lord, parry after parry. Silas hissed with effort, trying to grab hold of the blade with his articulate claws, but the loyalist was talented enough to pull away, dodge, or get an extra strike in to avoid having his sword locked in such a grip. It was grating on the heretic’s patience.

In the back of his mind, there was a chittering. A little voice that bid him use the blade he held tight in his off-hand. Let it drink of the loyalist’s blood, let it awaken, let it feed. It would grant him strength, such power.

Silas roared, tossing the sword to the ground. The effort to do so was immense, he felt perspiration forming on his brow, enclosed in his helm. The Primaris didn’t pay it a mind, continuing the engagement as if there was no change. With his mind cleared Silas re-doubled his effort, a slash, a swipe. Lord Decurin finally found purchase after another flurry, and snapped the power sword; there was a dulled boom as the energy field shattered.

Lieutenant Edriel staggered back, drawing his combat knife. Much like the brother in the levels above, the chaos lord didn’t allow him the moment. Four great blades of his lightning claw dug into the loyalist’s abdomen. A strangled yell emerged from the helmeted Primaris.

Silas lifted him off the ground, snarling with effort. The Son of the Phoenix gurgled in the white-hot suffering accompanied by a direct strike from the talon of the Abyssal Lord.

“F-From the fires of war… We rise…” Edriel groaned.

“You will not emerge reborn from this,” Silas said, barely above a whisper.

With the sickening sound of metal against bone and flesh, Lord Decurin stepped back, the blades of his claw leaving the Primaris. He dropped to his knees, yellow eye-lenses meeting the gaze of the chaos lord. The light flickered, and went out. The Lieutenant’s lifeless body falls forward with a thudding crash.

++

Some time later, Silas returned to the Echo of Ecstasy in orbit above the planet of Emancha V. The relic was recovered, though the chaos lord kept it under lock and key. His squad had informed him the Inquisitor made her escape, even Naethar’s auspex could not pick her out, perhaps some damnable item or tactic allowed her to slink away.

Lord Decurin paid it little mind, he knew that as surely as the gods were eternal, he would cross paths with the Lady Inquisitor again. Further augur readings informed the warband that indeed more Imperial forces were en-route to the system, and they needed to leave. With three cycles to spare they gathered what they could, forces, resources, they scoured as much as possible. The knight returned to its own ship, lost and the damned left the surface. Drop-pods reclaimed and bodies burned.

Silas also had a new trophy in addition to the artifact. A Primaris Lieutenant’s helm, and the skull within.

The Abyss Chasers gathered in the void, turning from the cold mining rock, one by one tearing back into the roiling embrace of the warp.

“Sons of the Phoenix,” Silas muttered. “I wonder if they know.”

[okami-zero]

*incoherent anime screaming*

So just watched the latest episode of G-Witch, and per my usual, my rambling is below to avoid spoilers.

To say that I wish for Prospera's head on a gilded platter would be the closest I could get to the emotions wound up by this episode.

Now, I absolutely love Guel's return. He grew up a lot while he was away (and now has some fun PTSD! /s). But Prospera almsot gleefully abandoned her flesh-and-blood daughter for her tamagotchi stuck-in-Permet-because-of-her literal ghost-in-the-machine revenge. I will not let her pretend this is for Eri's benefit at all (and Eri deserves better). This is vengeance, pure and simple. She will blame the death of her husband and colleagues on Cathedra and Delling. She will blame Eri being made into a Gundam control system on Cathedra and Delling. She will blame the suffering Suletta is being put through on Cathedra and Delling (and being the duplicitous madwoman she is, throw Miorine in there for the last one). Only one of these is feasibly true. The last two are directly her choice to carry out and do.

And they just HAD to use Happy Birthday, didn't they? Fuck, this series is going to give people depressive episodes when hearing that song by the end of it all...

I will give Guel the props he deserves, he did very well considering he still hasn't processed everything that happened in the attack on the Plant and his accidental/self-defense patricide. He is becoming a fave. And his confession to Suletta was adorable.

So, we saw Suletta's heart absolutely break in the episode and dear gods, it has been a while since I have seen something that fucking tear-my-heart-out-and-stomp-on-it emotionally raw (Demon Slayer had a couple, need to get back on that). And you know "Lady" Prospera is going to capitalize on that shit (she probably knew form the start, so she gets to keep her little puppet, despite Miorine's intent).

Now we saw some of Miorine's reaction (not sure if she could hear Suletta or not), but all we really saw was the hesitation. Even when she pressed the button, the reluctance. And we know the girl is good at throwing up an imperious front. But I want to see how she really feels about this. I mean, we saw how fiercely she faced down Prospera for Suletta's sake. But I want to see what seeing this girl, who had basically placed her heart in her hands, who was willing to do so much for her, that was so in love with her - I want to see what seeing Suletta's heart break right in front of her did to Miorine. Because as good as she is at putting up a front... I don't believe that is something she could have done easily. And probably only had one shot to do it.

So yea, Prospera's head, gilded platter, let's make it happen!

(Seriously though, Prospera is an excellent antagonist here. She has a bit of the whole "revenge for my family" vibe from Char and Zechs, but she's just completely around the bend. And AGAIN with the creepy Bene Gesserit ladies! They always seem so fucking eager to just stab everyone in the back soon as they turn around. And Shaddiq, you tricksy mofo, I see you. You and your Treize Khushrenada vibe, I see you.)

Also, kind of sad Norea missed Elan#Five with that pencil, not gonna lie...

[screaming-skvll]

MG 1/100 OZ-00MS Tallgeese

Although I later became and remain a staunch Universal Century fan, seeing the unaccountably stylish hot mess that is Gundam Wing at a young age made an indelible impression. In particular, the striking design of the Tallgeese—so clean, elegant, and powerfully simple amidst a cacophany of ridiculous-looking anime robots—made it easily my favorite mobile suit from that show. It was and remains mechanized romanticism incarnate. (The potent allure of Zechs Merquise didn't hurt, either.)

Even after establishing myself as a confirmed UC devotee, my love of the Tallgeese remained undiminished. In fact, my spate of Gunpla work during the year I lived in Taibei began with a horrendous attempt at the ancient non-grade 1/100 Tallgeese:

Afterward, as I built much more sophisticated contemporary kits, I began to fervently wish Bandai would someday produce a Master Grade Tallgeese. That wish came true when the MG 1/100 Tallgeese ver. EW was announced in 2012. Although I wasn't able to work on Gunpla at the time, I picked up the kit in 2013, feeling compelled to build it eventually.

The kit remained unopened for several years. Even after moving into an apartment where I had enough space to work, I couldn't muster the energy and resolve to face the Tallgeese. In particular, I wasn't prepared to undertake the effort of partially repainting the model to match its TV colors.

However, when I finally began building again in 2021, at last I turned to the Tallgeese after a few other projects provided adequate warmup.

The result made me feel foolish for waiting so long. Although I found some of its construction a bit finicky, the kit was a joy to build. It's a magnificent implementation of the Tallgeese design, with fantastic articulation and posability.

Although it can stand if balanced with care, the weight of the large vernier thruster pods make unsupported poses somewhat tricky. Fortunately the Tallgeese is a machine meant to be in flight.

The model's greatest shortcoming is its difficulty holding its signature weapon, the delightfully named dober gun. Both the gun and the shield can be attached to the shoulder armor with articulated armatures, but when held while mounted in this way, the dober gun's posing range is very limited. I found the suit can hold the weapon more dynamically without the armature, either over the shoulder or under the arm. Yet even then Tallgeese can only do so much in terms of aiming it this way or that.

Of course the model suffers no such limitations holding its beam sabers and shield. It poses marvelously dashing or lunging into close combat.

[historyhermann]

"RWBY": The Captivating YA Animated Series

Yang, Penny, Weiss, and Blake at the end of Volume 8

Last year, when looking for another animated series to watch, I came across RWBY, a young adult animation, and one of Rooster Teeth's flagship series. While I wasn't sure about it at first, as I watched all eight seasons, I became invested in the characters, especially the protagonists, and a fan of the show itself.

Reprinted from The Geekiary, History Hermann WordPress blog, and Wayback Machine. This was the fourth article I wrote for The Geekiary. Before this got published, they said I would be kicked off the publication if I don't start writing, if I remember right. So, I started writing this post and many others. This post was originally published on October 8, 2021.

RWBY is the brainchild of the late Monty Oum. It is known for its captivating stories and a theme song, sung by Casey Lee Williams, which begins every episode, foreshadowing what happens in the season/volume. Although the series has the classic conflict of good vs. evil, there are well-developed characters with intricate storylines, elements of horror, and good character development. Some characters are even morally grey, like General James Ironwood or the Ace Ops. Other villains, such as Cinder Fall, don't want to strictly follow their leader.

Ruby in Volume 9 preview

The anime-inspired series is named after the four main protagonists: Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, and Yang Xiao Long. They stand against villains, such as Salem and her enforcers, like Cinder, Arthur Watts, Neopolitan, Tyrian Callows, Mercury Black, and the Grimm monsters. On the other hand, Ozma/Ozpin/Oscar Pine, Lie Ren, Nora Valkyrie, Qrow Branwen, Robyn Hill, and Jaune Arc, among others, help Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang fight against the forces of evil.

The show is clearly mature as it features its share of blood and gore, and the death of some characters, with the antagonist, Salem, even engaging in human experimentation. On the other hand, this science fantasy/adventure/action series has a large focus on magic, and sci-fi elements like the cyborg girl, Penny Polendina, and scrolls which can receive and record messages. Each of the protagonists, like those on RWBY, have a semblance which derives from their aura, helping them battle against the Grimm and other villains, either including powers such as object manipulation, disorienting people, or super strength.

I don't want to give away too much of the plot but I will say that the show features various supporting LGBTQ characters. In Volume 6, Saphron and Terra-Arc, a lesbian couple with a son named Adrian, as confirmed by Lindsay Jones, the voice of Ruby, who the protagonists, and their friends, stay with on their journey to another kingdom. Additionally, in the Volume 5 episode "Alone Together," Ilia Amitola confessed her romantic feelings to Blake, and was later confirmed by show writer Miles Luna as a lesbian in a Reddit AMA.

Most prominently is May Marigold, a trans woman. Unlike other trans characters in animation, she is voiced by a trans female voice actress, Kdin Jenzen, and her character came out as trans in the Volume 8 episode "War," which she described as "something so wildly powerful & meaningful."

LGBTQ characters in RWBY so far

There is a lot about the series which is wonderful. There is a strong possibility of confirmed LGBTQ representation in the main cast, especially since the voice actress for Blake, Arryn Zech, confirmed her character as bisexual in May 2020, and some even have argued that the shipping between Blake and Yang, known as Bumbleby, will come become canon in the show's next volume.

Even if this doesn't happen, the show is still powerful, from its music to the characters, the voice acting to the visuals, which have improved from the earliest seasons to the present-day. Although the fandom may be toxic at times, the show is unique in its colorful ship names, especially the femslash ones, like Baked Alaska (Yang and Neopolitan), Blood Mint (Ruby and Emerald Sustrai), Freezerburn (Yang and Weiss), Ladybug (Ruby and Blake), or White Rose (Ruby and Weiss) to name a few.

So, if you haven't seen RWBY yet, whether on VRV, Crunchyroll, Amazon Prime (in some locations), YouTube Movies (for purchase/rent), or on the RoosterTeeth website, now is the perfect time during the show's hiatus, before Volume 9 begins again sometime in 2022.

© 2021-2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

[remembermeclear-61]

Art Nouveau door at Zeche Zollern

[wipbigbang]

Round 2 Of Artists Claims For The Regular WIPBB Are Open! Round 2 lasts until July 31st! You may claim 3 fics this round!

These are some of the fics open for claiming...

Gundam Wing #045 Title: You Tie Me in Knots Pairing/Characters: Zechs Merquise/Lucrezia Noin Rating: Explicit | E Warnings/Tags: No Warnings apply implied PTSD Summary: This story takes place shortly after the Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz OVA, some weeks before Zechs and Noin travel to Mars to join the Terraformation Project. It deals with them healing old emotional wounds and re-establishing trust through a slightly unorthodox method: bondage!

#046 Title: The General's Daughter Pairing/Characters: Quatre Winner/Dorothy Catalonia Rating: Mature | M Warnings/Tags: Major Character Death Suicide; Alcohol Abuse; Unhealthy Relationships; Manipulation; Dubious Consent; Sexual Content Summary: This story is set about 6-7 years after Gundam Wing canon and is a fusion adapting the plot of the 19th century play Hedda Gabler into the 'After Colony' GW era. Dorothy Catalonia is a former aristocrat from Earth whose circumstances have been much reduced following the war of Gundam Wing, and she has entered a marriage of convenience to Quatre Winner, hoping to capitalize on his wealth and good name. The story opens as the couple arrive at Quatre's home in the L4 space colony cluster. As the story unfolds, Dorothy's machinations lead to her final ruin and ultimate death by suicide.

The list of remaining fics and the link to sign up are below!

[saresai]

Part of my "Ghost in the Machine" series~

[capturingtime]

Auf den Spuren der Bergleute by Ulla Smidt-Berner via Flickr: Zeche Zollverein, Essen. Treppe zur Kohlenwäsche Zollverein colliery, Essen. Stairs to the coal washing machine

[tinyozlion]

Wait, How Many Wing Zeroes ARE There?!

“Three Wings for the Elven kings under the sky Seven for the Dwarf lords in their halls of stone...”

So, by the end of the series it seems like there must be a Gundam 01 parked conveniently wherever you need one. This isn’t a huge mystery or anything, it’s just a bit confusing because Gundam 01 has been updated, reconstructed, and rebuilt about a dozen times by just about everyone. 

The first Gundam 01 is what Heero comes to Earth in-- I'm going to refer to it as the "Wing Gundam".  (Back in the Colonies, the Doctors Five have made plans for an updated Wing Gundam that is bigger, badder, and more space-worthy; but that Gundam hasn’t been built yet, and the AI system that will be installed in its cockpit hasn’t been implemented *).

Heero uses the Wing Gundam until episode 10, whereupon he hits the switch that shoots it directly into God's grundle. 

Zechs, being the die-hard Mobile Suit nerd he is, sweeps up all the pieces, orders a bunch of extra Gundanium, and rebuilds it specifically with the intention of giving it back to Heero, who he senses is still alive.

The idea of giving the enemy death machine back to the enemy pilot understandably causes Romefeller’s monocle to pop out into its tea, and they tell Treize to make his boyfriend blow up the rebuilt Wing Gundam. Treize *wink* definitely *wink* tells him to do that right away *wink*. 

(Zechs is a political exile with a military salary; he does not have the kind of pocket change you need to buy two Gundam’s worth of Gundanium, express delivered from Outer Space. Do you know who DOES have generational wealth to throw around? Treize Khushrenada, a man who does not skimp when it comes to getting his friends everything they want.)

"The word better be 'flawless'."

Zechs blows up a Wing Gundam, but it’s not the real Wing Gundam, it’s a fake made from the spare parts of his Tallgeese MS, the rest of the supply of Gundanium, and 18,000 Gunpla kits he bought on Ebay. No one is really convinced by this performance: his reputation as a Mobile Suit nerd is too well cemented at this point. In any case, events unfold and Heero and Trowa take the reconstructed Wing Gundam. 

THIS IS WHERE A SWITCHEROO HAPPENS. The Gundam pilots attempt to head to space, which goes poorly for everyone. Heero dumps the Wing Gundam in a lake and goes to space without it. 

MEANWHILE: Quatre, who was forced to detonate the Sandrock Gundam and is having a bit of a rough time, finds the Doctors’ blueprints for the shiny, updated Wing Gundam, which is called the Wing Zero– because it has the ZERO system programmed into its cockpit.  

So now there is the Wing Zero in space, and the original/reconstructed Wing Gundam back on earth, chilling with the fishes. In fact, if everything else is too confusing, just remember: Wing Gundam stays on Earth. 

Stuff happens in space and Zero is left behind while the boys return to Earth. OZ now has the abandoned Wing Zero, which it plans to blow up. Zechs manifests out of the woodwork because once again he is a nerd who cannot let a good Mobile Suit go to waste. He changes out the Tallgeese (RIP) for the Wing Zero, and thoroughly enjoys having a shiny new Gundam to play with. 

Meanwhile, back on Earth, power team Sally-Noin recovers the original/reconstructed Wing Gundam from the soup, and gives it back to Heero. Unfortunately at this point, Wing Gundam is a little the worse for wear and underpowered for the waves and waves of VirgoMDs being sent its way. The tough old bird eventually meets its match and goes down under fire, but not before one Treize Khushrenada phones in to its pilot and tells him to meet him for a brunch-and-joint-suicide date over at the abandoned Disney Castle. 

Original Wing Gundam is toast, Heero gets the Gundam Epyon from Treize, and Zechs conveniently heads to Earth in the Wing Zero. 

Heero and Zechs fight, their Gundams (both running on the ZERO system) refuse to hurt each other because they’ve… never felt this way about another Mobile Suit before… is this what humans call… love? Zechs and Heero do not understand their Suits' beautiful relationship and refuse to let love bloom on the battlefield. 

Oh it's like THAT huh?

Heero gives Epyon to Zechs, and takes back Wing Zero, which he prefers piloting because it doesn’t have Treize-cooties on it, even if he has to re-adjust the seat because Zechs is taller than him. 

Heero stays in the Wing Zero for the remainder of the series– BUT! The wreckage of the Wing Gundam is still on the battlefield, where it is retrieved by OZ / the Treize Faction. The now twice-rebuilt Wing Gundam is patched up once again by nerds after Zechs’ own heart, who do it seemingly for the love of the game and the professional pride of a Gunpla enthusiast. 

Wing Gundam is left in the hangar with the keys in the ignition… awaiting the call of DESTINY. Destiny comes in the form of Lady Une, who, sensing Treize trying to die heroically in space, rushes to save him in what is truly the last flight of the Wing Gundam: taking the hit meant for TallgeeseII (itself rebuilt from the remains of the Tallgeese) and staying intact just enough to keep its pilot safe.

…Do you think Wing Gundam still had some of the old Tallgeese parts left in it? Do you think they remember each other? Am I getting emotional thinking about a Mobile Suit enemies-to-lovers arc? Do Epyon and Zero work out their differences before the end? These are questions I cannot answer; we must all decide for ourselves if the robots can kiss.

–OH! And you may be asking: Where does that sickass Gundam from Endless Waltz come from??  The one with the ACTUAL WINGS and robo-feathers and stuff! Don’t worry about it, it’s the same Wing Zero, everyone got a cool aesthetic redesign for the movie**.

____

*) …This actually depends on whether or not you take the events of Frozen Teardrop to be canonical. If you do, then the ZERO system predates the Gundams by a whole generation, and it’s based on the digitized clone of a Norwegian Forest Cat named ‘Sam’ who belongs to the Peacecraft family and was uploaded to a prototype MS by a young Doctor J and I am not joking. That is the original granddaddy of the ZERO system. It’s a digital cat-based user interface that lives in a Mobile Suit tamagotchi and communicates with the pilot by meowing. Is this insane? Undoubtedly. Do I love Sam very much? Yes sir I do. He’s a cat with a job. He’s the very best Meowble Suit combat AI, yes he is, yes he is. **) And THIS depends on whether or not you take the Glory of Losers rewrites as canon! Because in that version, the whole lineage of both the Tallgeese and Wing Gundams is slightly different, and the fancy robo wings are actually from the Tallgeese!

[dwflanagan]

Machine hall, Zeche Zollverein #zechezollverein #industrial #industry #essen #germany #fujixpro2 (at Zeche Zollverein) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm4UzRzIeAF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[flaminfogelman]

Watch "MSAGW Ep.10 - 3 Minute Preview!" on YouTube

Get ready to watch me beat up my new bestie!