G Gundam Fan Fiction ❯ Rise, Crusade Gundam! ❯ Sins of the Father ( Chapter 3 )

Mark wiped his brow. He wasn't used to such heat, not in the cooler climate of Neo-England. Neo-France's bright sun was a huge change, one which didn't go down well with the Neo-England crew. Haro was flying about, making constant announcements about the temperature in both centigrade and Fahrenheit. Graham was the only member of the crew dressed 'improperly' for the event, with his baggy t-shirt and shorts, in comparison to the stuffy formalwear his companions wore. Mark began to fiddle with his tie, evidently annoyed.

 

“I just don't see why I've got to wear this...as soon as I get in my Gundam, its all MTS, no need for this...” Mark put a newly-tanned arm around his friend's shoulder.

 

“Pro-to-cality, my friend. What if you get asked to have dinner with the king? You wouldn't wanna dishonour him by turning up all scraggly and stuff, wouldja?” Mark responded by hitting his best friend on the back of the head.

 

“Then why are you in your civvies? " He raised an eyebrow. " Unless you're not coming...”

 

“'Fraid not. I've gotta do some research on your next opponent, and I'll get the feedback to you tonight.”

 

“Some have all the luck...” Mark shook his head. He seriously felt like kicking Haro, as he heard for 278th time that the temperature was at roughly 37 degrees centigrade, and 98.6 Fahrenheit.

 

Despite the terrible heat, the city of Nice remained a spectacle to be beheld. The architecture was reminiscent of centuries past, in a similar fashion of London, but of a style all its own. The locals seemed relatively unperturbed by the stifling heat, but that could be attributed to their lack of clothing, in comparison to the group. General Kitchener looked particularly angry, his brow furrowed in a desperate attempt to withstand the heat in his military regalia, and to find this building where they were to meet King George De Sand of Neo-France. To him, all of these buildings looked the same, architecture not being his strong point. He frantically studied the map, vainly searching for that elusive alleyway, or magic bridge leading to the hotel overlooking the lake. His knowledge of the French language was also lacking, and any attempts to get a passer-by to help were met with derision.

 

“I'm getting very sick of these rude locals, Prime Minister,” he growled. “I hope this stupid king of theirs shows up on time...” Barclay simply smiled, and shook his head in response. Before Kitchener could make another complaint, he was stopped by a man in French military attire.

“Pardon, monsieur. Est-ce que vous les officiales des Neo-Angleterre?” Kitchener opened his mouth, most likely to respond with some sort of complaint about none of the French being able to speak English, but was swiftly halted by an interjection from Barclay, who confirmed the statement. The group was lead by this person to a large building, the walls of which were emblazoned with the flag of Neo-France. The doors were of the clearest glass, lending itself to a near crystalline appearance. In fact, the entire building was of a similar appearance, by with flags draped across. As they entered, Kitchener noticed how the soldier was hanging back, by the door. He also spotted what appeared to be an opened palm.

 

“A tip? Ugh...Prime Minister, do you have any Neo-French francs?”

 

“I'm sorry general, no cash on me.” Graham stepped up, and pressed a note into the soldier's hands.

 

“Relax, general. I've got it covered.” He noticed a smile appear on Kitchener's face. An unusual sight, considering his opinion of most foreign countries. “I guess this is as far as I go. I'll try and scare up some info about the Gundam Fighter for this place.”

 

“Thanks, Graham. Now get going! He might ask for more...” He glared at the soldier, and followed the rest of the crew in. Barclay turned to him.

 

“Ah, finally sorted out that problem, have we?”

 

“I just don't understand why we should have all these different currencies! It's a bloody waste of time...”

 

“Actually, centuries ago, all of Europe had a currency called the Euro. However, it was economically weak in comparison to the British pound sterling, and it soon collapsed.”

 

“Best of British, huh? Hardly surprising...”

 

Inside this building, more French flags were draped over the walls. Indeed, this was the residence of somebody who felt a lot of pride in their home country. Military officials were seen walking to and fro, and statues and portraits of famous figures from French history also adorned the different rooms. Such spectacle put Barclay's home to shame, something which he shamefully noted.

 

The crew did not walk far, before they were halted by the sound of a trumpet fanfare. An official bowed before the Prime Minister, and removed his cap.

 

“Presenting King George De Sand of Neo-France, and Queen Maria Louise.” Before them all, two figures of elegance personified strode calmly down the stairs, hand in hand, in many ways, a fairytale couple. George, dressed in a deep blue outfit adorned with medals personified the typical 'prince Charming' of many children's dreams, while Maria Louise wore a dress of the most elegant silk, the Cinderella to George's Charming.

 

“Ah! Prime Minister Barclay! You do not know how it pleases me to greet you on this day. I can only apologise you have had to endure such stifling heat...our Paris arena is still under construction, and it would hardly be becoming for the duel to take place on an unfinished stage...” George shook Barclay's hand. He then presented Maria Louise, whose hand was kissed.

 

“It is good to you too, your majesty. And may I comment upon your charming wife? She is certainly a fitting queen for a king such as you.” Maria Louise giggled in response, and blushed.

 

“Well, if you were a few years younger, Mr Prime Minister, I think my George would have reason to worry...” George laughed in response.

 

“Well! And where is the Gundam Fighter who valiantly battled the Eidolon Gundam?” Mark stepped forward, and bowed.

 

“I am, your highness. Mark Anderson, at your service.” George smiled, and took a rose from his left breast pocket, sniffing it.

 

“It is a pleasure, Mr Anderson. Now, forgive me for skipping straight to business, but are you ready to begin your match? Or perhaps you would prefer to wait until tomorrow?”

 

“If it's no trouble, your highness, we shall rest until tomorrow.” Barclay butted in, leaving Mark open-mouthed, and feeling fairly sheepish.

 

“Very well then. At least, let me introduce our fighter to you." Barclay nodded in confirmation. George looked to his right, and nodded to a guard. A door opened, and a young man walked out. His hair was short, in a near military buzz-cut style, and dyed light blue. His face was ornately tattooed, with red dashes underneath his eyes. He possessed a look of determination, and seemed a strong willed man. “This, my friends, is Jean-Luc Mirabeau.” At the sound of this name, Haro piped up.

 

“Mirabeau! Mirabeau! Versailles tragedy!” With this announcement, all eyes were on Haro.

 

“Well, it appears your little friend knows something about our fighter." George tossed a few loose strands of hair away. “Yes, Mirabeau is indeed linked with the Versailles tragedy. But...that was Jean-Pierre Mirabeau.”

 

“My father.” Jean-Luc added.

 

“Yes...but luckily, we do not consider the sins of the father to be a problem, do we?”

 

“I am fighting to bring honour back to my family name. I...do not feel my father was entirely in control when the tragedy occurred.”

 

Before the 13th Gundam Fight, Neo-France held a tournament to determine which Gundam would represent Neo-France. The two remaining fighters were George De Sand, in Gundam Rose, and Jean-Pierre Mirabeau, in Mirage Gundam. Mirabeau employed a tactic in which he would stand in front of the audience, thereby making it impossible for George to attack without harming the crowd. However, the king noticed this, and immediately disqualified Mirabeau. Angered. Mirabeau attacked the king, and managed to kill a great deal of the crowd. Although sentenced to 1,000 years imprisonment, he escaped, and became infected with DG cells. He was eventually killed by George De Sand.

 

Everybody knew of this horrifying event. It still brought a shudder to George, who bore especially bad memories of the event, and carried a great deal of blame for the many deaths. Jean-Luc also carried the shame within him.

 

“My father...he was a strong man. He loved victory, however. Far too much...This is why he would go to any lengths just to win...” He shook his head. Mark put a hand on Luc's shoulder.

 

“Listen. Your father may have done some bad stuff...but you haven't yet.” Luc smiled in response.

 

“You seem like a good man. Let's hope your fighting skills are the equivalent of your character.”

 

Hours later, night had fallen on Neo-France, and sleep was the main order of the day for many. The Neo-England embassy was situated fairly closely to the summer home of the king, and also close to the arena. Mark liked this, as he could get a good view from the balcony of his room.

 

It was late. Mark was sitting in the cool night air, fairly restless, when a knock sounded at the door. Graham walked in, carrying some documents.

 

“Graham. Where've you been?”

 

“Chasing women. Seriously, though, I got some info on the fighter.”

 

“Oh, thanks.” Mark seemed particularly apathetic.

 

“Hey, what's up? There'd better be a reason for you giving me the iceman...”

 

“I'm sick of my decisions being made for me. I was ready to fight Jean-Luc just then, but the prime minister decided for me, before I could even say a word.”

 

“Well, you haven't had any info on him yet, have you? This is what these are for.” He patted the documents, and put them on the table. “C'mon, study them at least. You'll have a better chance of winning that way.” Mark smiled to his friend.

 

“Thanks, pal.” He leafed through the few pages available. “This all you could get?”

 

“Hey, gimme a little credit, willya? This guy's completely new, and you'll be his first opponent! I was lucky to get this much without storming into the Neo-France labs and looting the place!” Mark raised an eyebrow. It was times like this he wasn't sure if his friend was joking or not. He looked at some diagnostic stats and blueprints.

 

“Rose Mirage Gundam, huh?”

 

“Combining the best aspects of both George De Sand's Rose Gundam and the Mirage Gundam. You're gonna have your work cut out for you.”

 

“Hmm...Rose bits...missile launchers...this guy's gonna be a handful.” Mark and Graham looked at each other.

 

“Well, he's not a seasoned fighter. Remember, Vlad had already fought once before, and you held him off pretty well.”

 

“Good point...maybe I should change weapon systems for this match...”

 

“Weapon systems?” Graham gave Mark a confused look. “What are you talking about?” Mark shot him a sly grin.

 

“Oh, you'll see.”