Drundec Labs was founded in the tremors of the Calamity war by the scientists responsible for the creation of the machines known as Gundams. It was a response to an enemy greater than any mankind has every created. As the aftershocks of the wars died the remaining Gundams were relegated to the vaults of noble families while the labs were scaled back and devoted to the creation of defensive measures. The worlds all but forgot the existence of the laboratories where the brightest engineers strove to greater heights and the most adept mechanics worked to realize those heights.
Until one group followed orders.
One group followed orders to make an army that could suppress any uprising. Following orders is the single most utilized excuse for previous actions used by the human race. It excused the slaughter of millions in the second millennium of the species, allowed police suppression of protests for basic rights to water, permitted the slavery of families during the terraforming years of Mars, and signs the death warrants on the enslaved children of space. A phrase that relinquishes responsibility from those who would carry out whatever mandate is presented to them without a second thought.
They were tasked with the creation of an army that could make a handful of noble families the absolute masters of the solar system. The men and women of the chosen Lab were the best of what Drundec had to offer, not a single person within those halls would have contested that. Each one of them itching for the chance to prove themselves to their noble beneficiaries and have their pet projects funded, have their names brought to greatness under the mantle of the families of Gjallarhorn. But none more so than the engineer and mechanic who only had three years of work under their belts.
They entered the Labs together, one a Martian hayseed, the other a promising transplant from the satellite colonies of Earth, and together they rose. Together they proved the superior quality their work over and over, until no one could doubt them. No one could use their low birth to keep them to the small scale projects. No one could stop their meteoric ascent.
The partners worked day and night, only stopping when the pangs of hunger and thirst demanded. Eventually something fell into place, then another something, and another something, until they found the answer to the task brought to them. Unfortunately, those who seek to rise above their fellows are oftentimes brought down by them.
The Engineer, against the wishes of the Mechanic, refused to involve their more experienced lab mates in the project. For that they suffered. They were labeled as renegades, rebels seeking to destroy the peace won through iron and blood so long ago. The noble houses that had so recently given funds and materials were suddenly distant and accusatory. How could they, mere workers, think that they could ever accomplish such a task right under the nose of Gjallarhorn?
Before they could escape, they were sentenced to death.
However, the Engineer had a secret: a brother with connections to a certain organization with special reach across the solar system. A brother who loved her would do anything to keep her safe; even betray the man to whom he had sworn a blood oath.
And so the brother came, not with screaming fire and iron to wrest his sister and her partner from the chains of their superiors, but with bribes and secrets that motivated the correct politicians and bribes that greased the correct palms. He came with the code to an insurance virus that erased any trace of the notes and data garnered from restless nights and tireless days. The only intact files stayed safe in the possession of the Mechanic and the Engineer.
Thus Drundec lost two assets and gained two new competitors. The brilliant Engineer and the gifted Mechanic proved their worth to the old man holding the chains of their rescuer. They showed him the possibilities of where their minds could take his organization; the power he could wield. What man has ever been born who could resist the allure of power?
Under the protective wings of the old man and the legitimate guise of the brother's company the two were free to test boundaries, make new limits, and create. Until they weren't.
The governing bodies of Gjallarhorn do not care to see their prisoners escape their perceived justice. Like dogs they root out their prey until it is found and sufficiently disposed of. Even the protection of a powerful old man could not protect the Engineer and the Mechanic. As he could not protect her brother, who was caught in the accidental crossfire of a routine training exercise while following a well-known shipping route.
In order to protect what remained of her family, the Engineer made a deal with the Old Man. She would give him all of her information about the Gundams, their maintenance and construction, even how to mass-produce them, in exchange for the protection of her family. In the end she was killed before she could pass along the information. She was killed in her bed within a fortress while her family was shuttled to safety. Her body was never found.
From a city on the surface of Mars a broken Mechanic fulfilled his wife's end of the deal. But, he refused to tell anyone how mass-production was achieved. He had come to understand the dangers of the Gundams and believed they should never be as common as a Graze; so he destroyed everything that remained of the work that condemned his wife.
For six years he lived in peace with the most perfect creation he and his wife could ever make, until a sudden sickness swept through the city of Chryse. Slowly he deteriorated until he could barely hold a spoon to his lips and then he followed his wife.
His body was never found.
And neither was their daughter.
The Old Man lost three assets in quick succession and failed to keep his word.
Sometimes the truth is easier to handle when we think of it as a story; something we can imagine happening to someone else. We coddle ourselves and hide; we turn away and say it's not true. And then slowly we accept what we've learned and rage against the world. We scream curses at the injustice that befell the characters in our story. We spit and howl against those who have shaped our present and our past.
Until slowly, oh so slowly, we settle into a quiet calm. The calm of those who had lost but did not know why; of those who knew the cruelty of the world but not what it took; the calm of those who knew what they had to lose and what they would do to keep it.
I longer cry for the boy whose life was shortened by the bullet of an enslaved child. I have no tears for the betrayal of my parents or their loss. I don't plot revenge for their murder, though it has crossed my mind. Instead I bury myself in my friends, in my love, and in the work the Brewers left us.
I move forward, because it would break me to look back.
"Drundec huh? Damn, no wonder your old man was so good. Marube even tried to hire him a few times." Nadi said.
I didn't know that. But then, how could a person from Mars ever make it to such a position? Martians may be free in name, but we're still bound by the chains of the Earth. During his rise my father would have been used as a poster child for what hard work could bring to Mars. Of course, everyone knows there's only so high a Martian can climb even if they're the top of their class and take every opportunity.
That's why Gjallarhorn, the interplanetary peacekeeper, wanted Kudelia disposed of. As a leading voice in a movement for greater independence she embodies the hope of a planet. Nothing disturbs the peace quiet like the hope for freedom.
"And to thing this whole time you were an outlaw and didn't tell us. Some friend." Shino said over the Graze's comm system.
"Funny, I thought you were here to work today?" I said back over my headset.
He grumbled something back about mechanics and senses of humor.
The Graze had fared better than the enemy mechs due to the nature of Akihiro's mission during the final confrontation. By comparison the Gusion looked like a scrap heap. Yamagi was handling the repairs to the Graze but it was still in need of a new pilot. That was up to Orga though.
"How's the work load for the Gusion?" Nadi asked off handedly.
"Pretty bad. We'll need to pick up some extra materials before it'll be ready."
The work orders for our newest salvaged Gundam were already overflowing my E-pad's logs. My eyes wandered over to the hulking green Gundam that hung opposite the Barbatos. I'd ordered it moved up from the bay where we keep the cargo and battle spoils. What I didn't realize was the extent of its size.
The Gusion stood almost as tall as the Barbatos, with armor painted a deep green with hideous purple embellishments. Whatever armor it wore in the Calamity War had been lost, sold, or scrapped in favor of the thick plating the Brewers outfitted it with. Combined with the massive hammer favored by its previous pilot it was clear that the Gusion was meant to completely pulverize opponents while tanking large amounts of damage.
Not that it made a difference against Mika. With all of the armor weighing it down, the Gusion was easily out maneuvered by the faster Barbatos. Thankfully Mika missed the Ahab Reactors when he speared the cockpit where the front armor plate connected to the plate protecting the head of the machine.
I cursed when more orders populated the Gusion's maintenance log and pulled up the log for the Barbatos. Between the two of them the Barbatos had the shorter list. Resource wise it would be smarter to fix the Barbatos and then do what we can with the Gusion.
"What're you thinking?" Nadi grumbled.
"Just wishing Mika took more prisoners." I drummed my fingers on the railing of the observation landing.
"You should make more realistic wishes."
In a relatively empty corner of the bay Ride drilled the recruits in their new duties on the maintenance bay. While they were the property of the Brewers the kids were treated as expendable; why train a Human Debris in machine maintenance when they were unlikely to survive the next mission? So, naturally, we started them on Mobile Worker maintenance. They would need to learn how to fix the machines they'd likely pilot in the field. A few of them stood out to me; they were quicker to respond and worked as though they knew what they were doing. Those boys would be picked first for pilots.
"How long until we reach the Dort Colonies?" I asked.
"Biscuit said we'd be there in a few weeks at the most." Shino replied.
"Good, we'll need the time."
"I heard that there's been some unrest in the colonies lately. Something about workers calling for more rights." Nadi said.
"Have you been reading Merribit's news reports again?" I teased.
"Well we can't just blaze in there without knowing what's waiting for us, can we? Especially if we're known to be harboring a representative of the Martian Independence Movement " He replied quickly.
"And since when do you care about anything like that?"
"What are ya talking about, I've always cared about this stuff. Just never told anyone." He sniffed. Shino's laugh roared over the headset. I thought I had hearing damage for a second. Even while Nadi sputtered and Shino prodded I couldn't help but draw back. What were we walking into?