G Gundam Fan Fiction ❯ Rise, Crusade Gundam! ❯ A New Direction... ( Chapter 5 )

The weeks passed quickly following the defeat of the Rose Mirage Gundam. Bets were beginning to be made on the favourites to win the Final Battle, and be pronounced Gundam of Gundams. Neo-Australia's Ranger Gundam held the current title, and was tipped to remain in that position. Other favourites included the Gundam Abaddon of Neo-Israel, Gundam Eidolon of Neo-Romania, Texas Gundam of Neo-America, and the Siam Gundam of Neo-Tibet.

 

Neo-England was still a danger, however, as evidenced by the previous two fights. Mark had made a name for himself in the Gundam Fight community, and was viewed with more and more respect. This became evident when Mark discovered action figures released, based around the current Gundam Fight. He was amused to find out his Gundam was amongst the highest sellers, and even more pleased when the profits came rolling back to him.

 

It had been a month since the last battle, and Mark began to grow restless. Barclay was under the impression a 'lassiez-faire' was best in both economic matters, and Gundam Fighting. Because no challenges were coming in, Mark's only form of training came from duelling against Graham, who was using a Casshing, a standard issue Neo-England military MS. He didn't like this, mainly because it didn't offer the same level of a fight as a traditional Gundam Fight, and whenever he managed to win, he would leave a crushed Casshing in his wake, and therefore get his ear chewed out by General Kitchener, who hated seeing his precious MS getting destroyed needlessly.

 

“I'm getting really sick of this,” Mark complained, during a training session, “all that happens these days is that you shoot me, I dodge, rip the head off, bam, I've won.” Graham shrugged his shoulders.

 

 

“Orders from the top, I'm afraid. Old PM doesn't want you to get injured or anything, so here we are.” As predicted, he fired a shot that was easily dodged, and the mech couldn't move quickly enough to avoid the George's Cross. The head of the Casshing flew off, as predicted, and so ended another training session.

 

“Well, that's another round of tediousness over,” Mark muttered.

 

“C'mon, I'll buy you a brew.” Graham replied. The pair exited their respective mecha, and quickly showered up. There was a certain emphasis upon speed, as they had to avoid the attentions of General Kitchener. It was bad enough these training sessions seemed to benefit Mark's skills little, but a daily yell from Kitchener only served to make life worse.

 

Having escaped the training centre, the pair headed downtown, to London's east end. Although a dangerous place to visit, Mark and Graham could handle themselves. They entered a certain pub, one of their favourites, and pulled up a stool. Graham ordered the drinks, and Mark looked at the television that had been set up. It was showing a live Gundam Fight, so Mark took special interest. Graham handed him his beer, and watched as well.

 

“Hey, looks like a good fight. Who's in it?”

 

“I think it's Neo-Canada's Maple Gundam...but I've no idea who the other fighter is...” The Maple Gundam was resplendent in its bright red colour scheme, designed to emulate the appearance of the Canadian Mounties. The other Gundam, however, was different. It appeared to have a tall hat, which was bordered by a lining of gold, and long, white robes. In addition, it wielded a long staff, with what appeared to be a crucifix on the end. This Gundam could certainly hold it's own, and could avoid each and every shot thrown at it. However, with only a few slashes of its staff, the Maple Gundam lost both of its arms, and fell to its knees. The crowd began to cheer, and the announcer's voice cut in, over the noise;

 

“Well, there you have it folks! The Maple Gundam of Neo-Canada has been defeated! The winner...Neo-Vatican's Pope Gundam!” Mark and Graham looked at each other, and then started to laugh.

 

“Pope Gundam? That's a good one! “Graham snorted.

 

“What's next, Gundam Jesus?” Mark added. “I mean, I've heard of some pretty dire Gundams, like Neo-Spain's Matador Gundam, or the Freedom Gundam of Neo-America, but this takes the cake!” Graham wiped a tear from his eye.

 

“Well, how'd you like to take him on?”

 

“Sure! Why not? What's the worst that could happen? He'll excommunicate me?” Their amusement halted in time to see the post-match discussion by the experts on the television.

 

“Well Bob that was quite the match wasn't it?”

 

“You know it, Bill. A pretty clever tactic of Pope Gundam there, to allow Maple Gundam to exhaust its ammo.”

 

“Yep. The fighter even seems like a good sport, too. He let Maple Gundam leave, and repair itself.” Graham took a sip of his beer.

 

“Y'know, I swear there wasn't any of this when you fought Gundam Eidolon or Rose Mirage...”

 

“Maybe because my Crusade Gundam doesn't look quite as ridiculous as Pope Gundam.” Mark sniggered.

 

“Y'know, you're making too many jokes these days. You'd better watch it; you might develop a sense of humour.”

 

Later on that evening, Barclay called a meeting, to determine their plans for Neo-England's Gundam Fight crew. Everybody involved was at this meeting, not just the crew itself, but also a great deal of the members of parliament, who held much sway over how the country was run.

 

“Now then. I have called this meeting to determine Neo-England's plan for the Gundam Fight. So far, we have been challenged twice, and escaped defeat on both occasions. However, I believed a lassiez-faire policy was best in such matters. It may seem boring, but this policy has prevented any possibility of Neo-England's chances for victory being eliminated. However, certain members of our team disagree.” Barclay halted for a moment, and glanced up at General Kitchener. “So, I have decided to hear some opinions on this, and we shall see what happens now.” Kitchener stood up, and began to speak.

 

 

“First, Prime Minister, this training you're putting Mark into is wasteful, and useless. I've watched the training bouts, and not only am valuable Casshings being wasted, but Mark's skills are becoming sloppy,” Mark opened his mouth to object, but realised Kitchener was speaking in his favour.

 

“I'll second that,” Graham added.

 

“Mark needs to use this survival eleven period wisely, so that he can defeat any potential dangers before the Final Battle. Also, his skills and tactics will improve tremendously from this.” As he sat down, he was applauded with the sound of agreement, as if this were a parliamentary debate. Barclay shut his eyes, and considered Kitchener's proposal.

 

“I understand, General. But, you must realise, there is also the possibility of meeting an opponent too powerful for Mark at this point in time,” Graham stood up, and rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“...well, that's why I've been assigned, isn't it? As strategist, I check out Gundams before he fights them, and gives him the info. Remember the last fight? Without the blueprints I got him, he never would've thought of the shield and sword weapon system, and gotten evaporated by a hail of missiles.” Mark looked up, and smirked slightly. He never realised just how much his friends meant to him until now. Barclay got up, and sighed.

 

“Well, it seems that everybody has a view on this subject, except the fighter himself. Mark...?” Mark, startled, fumbled about for a response.

 

“Well, uh, it would be great to see the world, I guess...and I do need some better training...” Barclay motioned for him to stop talking.

 

“Very well then. You may roam free throughout the world, challenging as you wish.” He sat down, with a dejected look on his face. Amid all the cheering, Mark noticed this on Barclay, and felt slightly guilty. He knew it was all for his own safety, but he had an obligation to Barclay, his father-figure. However, he also knew that such an approach would make his fighting skills dangerously lacking, and therefore lead to a quick defeat at the Final Battle.

 

It was later that night, and General Kitchener called the Neo-England crew to discuss their next move.

 

“Well, now we have broken free of the Prime Minister's stranglehold, we can move as we wish. He has informed me that he wishes to remain behind, to focus on domestic matters. So, I shall be leading you. Any objections? “Nobody raised their voices, suggesting that his proposal pleased all.” Very well then. Personally, I think we should head to Neo-America first, but Mark, since you're the fighter, you get to choose... “Kitchener started muttering after this.” Of course, we COULD ignore the words of the country's top general, but never mind...” Mark and Graham looked at each other, and started laughing wildly. “Well? What the devil do you two find so funny?”

 

“Neo-Vatican! We gotta see this Pope Gundam for ourselves!” Mark choked out in-between sniggers. Graham patted him on the back, and ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Good choice, pal!” Kitchener stroked his moustache, and smiled slightly.

 

“Oh? Well, that ought to be fun. Graham, gather up information. We leave tomorrow.”