Gaojinizer- Stage 20

Conflict Within

… The sting of loss was felt within the Juzumaru, they were defeated, and soundly. The Feudal lord attached to earth, they at least had a semblance of a chance if they worked together, but the general was simply on a different level entirely, they did not get to so much as fire a single effective attack before they’d been dispatched. The Bayamo Naval base had managed to send teams to rescue the new arrivals to the region, thankfully. All of the Machina’s pilots stood within the hangar bay, the distance between them great. Frowned lips, and silenced voices. Even Takeshi stayed his tongue. The poor state of the Machina and Juzumaru alike were currently being addressed, the engineers and mechanics alike responsible for that task, stood in front of the ship’s resident expert on those subjects, Kyoko.

“... Well, installing the new guns will be simple enough, and thankfully the cores of the Machina are unharmed, so we’ll be able to get them back into fighting shape relatively soon.” Kyoko nodded.

“That’s good, then…” The conversation trailed off, as the hexapod metal cylinders which came from the Juzumaru rushed past them, going from a panel which they'd been working on before, to another which’d yet to be welded on.

“They move very quickly, and are articulate for models so old… And you say you modified them yourself?” Her chin held high, a wide smile on her face, she responded.

“Yup! You’re talking to one of the world’s best engineers, after all!” that much was about the amount of boisterousness one would expect. The repairs continued, an effort shared by both these bots, the ones which the base itself used, and the other mechanics who directed them. In the meanwhile, a new arrival had begun to make his way into the hangar, a man of average height with well-groomed brown locks which reached his upper back, the sight of him caused those he walked by to stiffen up, saluting. Thin eyes of an icy blue moved across the room, at the very pilots he’d heard so much of. Eventually, however, a smooth, if somewhat booming voice, reverberated throughout the room.

“Machina team, to me… I will be your new commanding officer…”

Commanding officer? Thus far, they’d just been told to go to the various battlefields, and sometimes being given orders, but otherwise left alone. What brought about this change? It seemed they would just have to figure that out. They began approaching this new arrival all the same, and looked upon him, sizing him up. And seemingly, he did the very same with them, a scrutinizing gaze on the pilots, their machines, and even the engineer who’d taken to repairing the machines time and time again. Though she was by no means the focus of his thoughts.

“The situation is simple… You are all unrefined, even if you are effective, for that very reason, I am here… In five hours, you will meet me in your VA’s on the field, we will begin our first training session then…” Training?! Did the brass truly believe them to need such a thing? Regardless, there seemed to be little they could do about it now…

As they’d been told, the now repaired Machina stood on a rocky beach, which lacked the presence of any others. The man who was apparently their new commander, remained silent, as his machine began to ascend into the air, the thrusters between the wings pushing it upward. It was plated in black armor, was thin, streamlined, clearly constructed with pure speed in mind, such was the doctrine the 6th french republic built their Vanguard armors to be used in. Though this version of the model, the Chevalier Custom, was made specifically for this pilot.

“Now then… Let us begin. I’m going to teach you how to execute the Tornado Maneuver… It is especially useful for fighting against more powerful targets…” And, as such, they began, but it seemed that time and time again, they’d managed to get in each other's way during their attempts to execute the maneuver. It was a simple one in concept, though it required nearly exact timing.

A steam of attacks, the pilots which formed it moving in specific directions at specific times to misdirect. Yet, such simplicity seemed to be deceptive, time and time again, the lieutenant commander spoke upon the failures he observed. Deciphering their mistakes in but an instant after their drills were complete. Such wasn’t a surprise, given this hadn’t been the first team of pilots he’d trained. And it seemed that his standard way of teaching, to point out any mistakes as they happened, and press the soul who made it enough to where they would learn to solve it.

“Incorrect…”

“Too out of Sync…”

“The wrong Maneuver was executed…” To say the least, the tensions within the group built, and though it seems a bit of progress was made, it wasn’t nearly good enough to satisfy Pierre himself…

“... What could be going on with them? Has the complacentness of the Garsalan they’ve fought up to now, which allowed for us to reach more victories, spread to them? If so, this could prove to be an issue in the future…” Countless hours were spent attempting to drill these tactics into the pilots heads, and, at the end of it all, they were left in the Hangar bay once more, facing the object of their annoyance.

“You’ll need to do better… If these tactics can allowrun of the mill Vanguard armors to stand against garsalan units, then I can only imagine they will work well with you. Lest we have another loss from you all…” One among them, the ever-confrontational Takeshi, stepped forward with a scowl.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Oi. We lost but one time!” Takeshi shouted in response. Before long, even Andrew decidedly stepped forward.

“We won all those other times, didn’t we?” Murmurs of protest began to come from the other machina pilots. While Pierre sat there with closed eyes.. Though his blood began to boil at these statements, their apparent arrogance, he did not let it show.

“Silence… The fact remains that your loss would have led to your deaths if he’d been more thorough, and the loss of earth’s best weapons… And if he’d decided you’d be more useful captured, we’d have lost our best chance at winning, Aether… We know not if our enemy can use that power as well, nor if they would have been able to create some way to counter it.. I suggest you all stop looking at what took place so casually… Meeting Adjourned…” With that said, Pierre began to walk off. Just a few words had caused a pall of silence to roll down the hangar bay. Outside of the gentle hum of machinery, and the sound of his footsteps, nothing could be heard. After some time, it seemed the group, despite standing together, were off in their own worlds…

Burning marble, covered in ash, what was formerly a historical monument, one which was a look into the ancient days of human history, was reduced to rubble, the ground painted red with the blood of its people. The only one remaining, a boy of white hair, his face and body alike bloodied, and clothes torn. Haemon Galanos watched as the machines responsible, the Garsalan S’fans, flew back into their ships, their mission, the slaughtering, was complete…

Roosevelt, once the bustling capital of the US, and center of the Atlantic Collective’s power, had changed that day. Where once, people walked along the street, booming music could be heard from cars, that was no longer the case. Now, there was only a crescendo of beam fire, which obliterated entire sections of the city within moments.. While a young boy, with a head of coily hair, was left standing there, unable to stop it.

These visions they saw, what would happen if they’d managed to lose their only advantage against the Garsalan? How many more would lose their lives as a result? As trepidation made its way onto their expressions, it seemed that one of them did not share in this, a clenched fist and a deadly gaze proved this much. But regardless, he needed to balance his humors. He had an appearance to keep up.

“To act so uncouth in the presence of others… You forget your upbringing, Diederick…” Air filled his lungs as he took a deep breath, and exhaled. It would take some time for any speech to come from their mouths, but eventually, it did take place.

“... He's not wrong…” Regardless of how they’d felt, to hear this coming from him… Surprise etched onto their faces, especially one Kyoko, who’s jaw seemed to have dropped to the floor below them.

“Am… I dreaming?” Before long, Takeshi’s gaze began to move around, inspecting the members individually.

“The hell are you all so surprised about?!” The annoyance in his tone was noted, but ultimately, they ignored the question.

“I don’t know how I feel about this Pierre guy, but… I can at least give him that.” Andrew eventually stated, gaining a nod from Haemon.

“I say we at least give what he says some thought… Those strategies may work.” Han stepped forward, placing his elbow upon Haemon’s shoulders.

“Seems good to me, then let’s-”

“Have the lot of you lost your mind?!”” The deadly glare on Diderick’s face, his anger, now had a direction, the team itself.

“An uppity commoner comes in and speaks to us in that manner, shows such disrespect, and you all want to listen to him just like that?!” The resident street fighter’s gaze flew over to him, and his fist clenched to meet the one standing opposite.

“Again with this commoner Bullshit?! I was gonna let it go by, but at this point, you’re annoying the hell out of me!” Takeshi stepped forward, the cloth of Diedericks shirt, grasped in a single motion with his right hand, his left, clenched into a fist. Though, this arm was grasped by the blonde, as he forcefully removed it.

“Who do you think you are to lecture me? Were you not but a street urchin before th-” His words were interrupted as a left hook slammed against his cheek, and the man stumbled as a result… Rubbing the zone of impact, the man’s gaze shot to Takeshi at once.

“Fine then… Two can play at that game!” It took but moments, but the two began exchanging punches, clanging metal from their footwork, the sounds of the fists' impacts. Yells, and guns echoing throughout, though, the adrenaline running through them kept their respective punches from being too effective.

“I’ll knock that smug sense of superiority out of-” These words were interrupted by an uppercut which landed on his chin.

“Silence, you-” A kick slammed into his side which sent him barreling to the ground and cut him off. Though, before long, he was on his feet, and the two were left staring at each other once more. By this point, the two were huffing, faces covered in bruises and marks. Yet, that alone wasn’t enough to stop them, the Impetus for that, was Takeshi’s advance being halted by Kyoko.

“You Oaf! What are you planning to achieve by doing this?!” It seemed that Diedrick wasn’t going to be allowed to continue his advance either, as Andrew strengthened his standing, and wrapped the Prince with both arms, to keep him in place.

“Release me, Howard!”

“And let you two punch eachother out some more, I don’t think so!” Two more who wished to put a stop to this battle stepped between them.

“I understand why you two are angry, but this isn’t going to do any good for us… How are we gonna beat the Garsalan when we’re at each other's throats?” Haemon queried. Apparently, this was not something the two had considered before entering their melee, tension, and emotion running high, and all. Han stepped between them as well, adding in his own statement.

“Look at it like this. We can debate about each other all we want if we're still alive, we may not be if we’re holding resentment. I don’t agree with how Diedrick talks, not by any means, but we can save that until after we’re finished…” For a moment, it seemed the two had stopped their attempts at charging toward each other. A handkerchief, procured from the prince’s pocket, wiped the blood dripping from his lip, which at this point, was swollen as if stung by a bee, away.

“Fine then… Inoue, we can continue this at a later date.” Takewshi said nothing, only nodding, as the two willingly split up. Unbeknownst to them, however, the officer whose words were apparently the inciting incident of their rivalry to become a physical one, observed from above. This didn’t exactly surprise him, considering the diverse identities of the machina pilots. A German prince, a former street fig]hter, a Comedian, and two children of scientists were not similar backgrounds by any means.

“And yet… They seemed to have solved it themselves…. If nothing else,I will give them that. Though, it seems I may have to focus on getting those two in particular to work together…” His analyzation complete, he began to walk off, to the room that had been declared his personal quarters upon his arrival.