Well now, it seems that one of the independent entries in the 14th Gundam Fight has made his first appearance; Derek Lorenz, of Germany, formerly a citizen of Neo-America before the Earth declared sovereignty. During the last Gundam Fight he would have been a young man, barely starting to grow his whiskers. But now here he stands in possession of a starship, advanced cybernetic bodyguards, and let's not forget… a Gundam of his very own! Any child born into this turbulent time would give anything to be in his position. But how is it that he came to possess such power? It is certainly a question many will soon come to ask. I'm sure we'll find out, given enough time, but for now this seems to remain a mystery. I wonder, what effect has all this power had on such a young mind?

Let's get things started! Gundam Fight, all set! Ready… GO!

"I'm goin' off the rails on a Crazy Train!" All speakers on the bridge of the Solstice screamed as loud as they were able, as their owner gyrated in place in ways that would make even the most drunken party-goer recoil in confusion and horror. Of all the myriad of disciplines Derek Lorenz was proficient in, the art of dance was clearly not among them.

"Master Lorenz, your energy expenditure at such an hour is not conducive to-"

"Can't hear you over the sound of how AWESOME I am!" Twenty-three was ignored in favor of improvisational air guitar.

"Master Lorenz, I would like to re-iterate; your energy expenditure-" Derek faced his drone with a look of indignation, air guitar silently clattering to the floor.

"It's excessive if I say it's excessive. Don't give me any of your sass." An empty can of carbonated beverage was propelled at unit Twenty-Three with alarming force by a deft punt. The slightly lower gravity on the bridge might have had something to do with its abnormal velocity as well. "Relax, get your groove on! These are classics! Well, ancient classics, but you gotta respect the…" his face was overtaken by an exaggerated expression of newfound clarity. "Oh, right, you can't, because you're a non-sapient tin can with legs!"

"I beg your pardon, Master, but I believe that is the caffeine talking." The drone had a point. No less than nine caffeinated beverages had been consumed on the bridge between the competitor specifications review less than two hours ago and this spontaneous Ozzy outbreak, and a lack of proper atmospheric pressure amplified these effects. "Your energy expenditure at this hour and the caffeine in your system are not conducive to acceptable physical stamina. You will need every ounce of strength for the days ahead."

"I know that, but we still have a few hours to kill, and I could cut the tension in the air with the broad side of a spoon… That makes no sense but you see where I'm going!" It was definitely the caffeine talking.

"Perhaps your mind would better be put at ease by performing pre-lockout checks-"

"And miss all the fun of low-gravity air guitar? No thanks."

"It is possible that this high-energy activity is what is causing your adrenaline levels to skyrocket, thus accentuating your feelings of apprehension."

"Tooooo many big words there, that's my job. But yeah, maybe you're right." With a quick finger snap the music abruptly shut off, and the propelled can finally settled to the floor as the subtly lower gravity returned to normal. "So quiz me, if that's what you're getting at."

If Twenty-three were capable of proper facial expressions, confusion and curiosity would be violently jockeying for the same space. Currently, its single pink optical sensor fluttered side to side. "My apologies, but what do you mean? There are other more pressing matters to attend to, and I am unsure of the relevance of your request."

"I mean, if you want to do something productive, quiz me on our competitors. Toss me a… a weapon system, structural specs, heck even a paint job, anything really. I'll see if I can figure out which Gundam you're talking about. I guess it's more productive than Crazy Train." The sudden juxtaposition of business during an otherwise childish outburst was nothing out of the ordinary, but many of the drones still were unused to the rapid conversation transitions their master was prone to. Twenty-three paused for a few moments, performing calculations unfathomable to the human mind just to keep pace with this bizarre man-child. With a sharp click of its head from left to right, the drone seemed to have formulated a plan of action.

"Very well, Master Lorenz, without delay." Twenty-Three's solitary pink optical sensor fluttered. "Tungsten-Aluminum composite Movable Frame."

Derek drew his hand to his brow, thinking only for a few moments before snapping back up. "Ferrari Gundam, Neo Italy. Pilot, Mario Testarossa. Perfect hybrid of mass and agility, with shearing resistance to match." The Ferrari Gundam, like its namesake, was sleek and angular, painted in trademarked Ferrari Red livery. "So, where do these countries dig up these oh-so-stereotypically-named tykes to groom into future Gundam Fighters? Is there some kind of global breeding program to produce ultra-patriotic names or something? Anyway, moving on." Another abrupt change of pace. Derek's attention span was a marvel in and of itself, capable of focusing on the most arbitrary of concepts when far more critical matters were at hand, but always barely retaining enough control to be extremely competent at nearly anything it was set on. Other than dancing of course.

"Correct. Your skills are impressive, Master Lorenz. Recall time-"

"Don't patronize me, Twenty-three, that was only the first one. And who knows, I might have just gotten lucky. Keep going." If this pace kept up, the drone would be lucky to finish half of its sentences by the time the lockout was due to begin.

"As you wish. Recurve energy-bolt projector."

"Tumen Gundam, Neo Mongolia. Pilot, Melschoi Sansar. And that's not what the technical document says. It's a beam bow. Don't think you can trip me up with technical terms, I practically invented half of those."

"Correct. I am just attempting to make this an exercise in rapid response and cognitive reasoning. The Legion thinks it needs an excuse to play games."

"You don't need to rationalize it, Twenty-three, just keep them coming. Hit me." Without missing a beat, the drone carried on.

"Very well. Steam Ramjet Cannon."

"Another easy one. Kraken Gundam, Neo Denmark. Pilot, Hans Holger. Weird thing, that one. Four years ago I'd put money on that super-heavy amphibious monstrosity getting taken out within the first few days, but with Hans in the cockpit and our new Trace System, I think this octopedal horror might give us a run for our money. Funny how innovation can cut both ways…" The third-generation Trace System was developed in no small part by one of the many biotechnology firms Lorenz held a majority share in. With some "help" from their investor in the form of strange strings of cellular code, colonial scientists fabricated micro and nano-materials never before conceived. If only they knew where this innovation came from.

"Another excellent response, Master Lorenz. Gundarium-Titanium composite coil blade."

"Coil blade, huh? Let's see… That's the Urumi, right? Indra Gundam, Neo India. Pilot, a long name I don't care to pronounce. Someone else can get paid to butcher that. Four arms, each with a massive whip blade whirling around at near supersonic speed. Not something I'd like to hug."

"Indeed, Indra will be difficult to hold off at close range, should it close to within your minimum effective combat distance." This distance was the point at which the transition from a ranged weapon to a close-quarters weapon would take too long to be a viable option.

"And with so many melee-oriented competitors this year, it's going to be a real fun time fighting all my battles flying backwards at full throttle. Keep going."

"Fenrir Buster." The combination of two simple words could sometimes have an awe-inspiring effect.

Derek threw his arms up in exasperation. "Come on, get creative with these now! You're practically telling me the answers by giving me the most distinctive weapon system in their arsenal! Ugh, Tyr Gundam, Neo Norway. Pilot, Herman Storstrand. I have to say, it's quite an interesting choice to completely sacrifice the use of a hand in favor of a weapon hardpoint. But since they did, I don't suppose it's going to be anything less than a mega-particle cannon." Derek drew a short breath, shaking his head and sighing as he exhaled. "Why couldn't it be just a dinky little scattering beam gun?"

"Why sacrifice the hand, then, Master? As for your questions, I will use less obvious systems and specifications." With current regulations, system registrations could be kept secretive by providing a system name and basic functional descriptions, such as 'directed energy weapon'. The Fenrir Buster was listed as such, and the exact output of this weapon was withheld.

Twenty-Three continued. "Disposable Arad combat knife"

"Disposable knives? Eden Gundam, Neo-Israel. Pilot, Josef David. That's YO-sef dah-VEED phonetically for those of you playing at home. Mean sumbitch, armored like a pangolin, guns and knives hidden in every freaking nook and cranny… Oh, and the Gundam's pretty nasty too." Eden was built from the ground up as a no-frills killing machine, more in line with a frontline assault Mobile Suit than a traditional Mobile Fighter. Besides the hidden weaponry was a dizzying array of projectile, beam and other more exotic death-spitters.

"Highly amusing, Master Lorenz. Power Mallet."

"Let's see, only two competitors use blunt weaponry this year, and since Russia's is just a bigger Graviton Hammer…" This weapon concept was popularized by the Bolt Gundam after being introduced five Gundam Fights previous by the Mosque Gundam. It would come as no surprise that the Fighter piloting such a Gundam was none other than the former Black Joker, Tris Surugeiref.

"That just leaves Riveter Gundam, Neo America. Pilot, Rosemary Lang…" Another look of sudden clarity took hold of him. "Oh, wow. It took me that long. Rosie the goddamned Riveter? Seriously? I ask again, where the hell do they find these people?"

"Unknown, but it is unlikely that such things are anything more than coincidence. Collapsible Particle Railgun."

Derek opened his mouth to speak, but found no words to say. None of the reviewed competitors had such a system, as far as he could recall. Which was concerning, considering the lethality of such a weapon system and the great tactical advantage of having such a device be Mobile-Suit-portable. He furrowed his brow in deep concentration, straining to recall where he had seen this weapon before. "I think you may have got me here, Twenty-Three" he said, placing his palm to his chin in frustration. "Guess maybe the more obvious systems were…" He trailed off, and turned to the bridge window. After a few seconds, the drone interjected.

"Do you concede this one, Master Lorenz?"

"Not hardly. Just give me a second." He would not go down without a fight, especially not to a drone. Derek let the blackness of space fill his vision, searching for some inkling of an idea. His frantic mind began to mellow with the exposure to the void and the stars, and like a bolt from the blue, he had his answer. "Ah, yes. That's one of Tau's, isn't it?" In the feverish rummaging through thousands of specifications and notes stored so haphazardly in the creases of Derek's brain, he had forgotten the most critical competitor of all; his own Tau Gundam. "It's technically a portable Neutrino accelerator, but I guess the technical language thing I suggested against might have tripped me up a bit. I certainly didn't expect this exam to contain questions from chapters I wrote myself."

"You had me worried for a moment, Master. I would think that knowledge of your own systems would be a primary goal."

"Well, yeah, but…" The drone had another point. "I guess you're right. But you're speaking in first person too much, you might want the Legion to check that out. Can't have too much individuality or your shared memories start to get a little wonky." He slowly turned to face his drone again, readably lethargic.

"Your biometrics indicate you are growing weary. We should bring this exercise to a close soon."

"Okay, okay, fine. Make this one count, then." The drone stood silently, formulating its final query. Its pink sensor fluttered between its two eye-slits, seemingly in deep thought. After what seemed like an hour, the drone spoke once again.

"Head height, 16.2 meters. Weight empty 7.0 metric tons; max gross 12.6 metric tons."

After a relatively brief thought, Derek's disposition visibly soured. Something began to surface from the darkest recesses of his mind, as though an old bitter memory had been violently wrenched into the light. "Where did you... Just... Never mind. Identified and done. Exercise complete." Clearly these measurements were something he would rather forget.

"Master Lorenz," Twenty-Three began, "you have established a format, and I am unsure as to why that format has suddenly changed." Its optical sensor fluttered diagonally, as though distinguishing its motions from those of excitement. "Surely you are able-"

"Able, yes. Willing, no." Yet again his demeanor had shifted, though this was significantly more serious than he had been all afternoon, and in fact more than most times within Twenty-Three's records. Apart from a few isolated incidents it was somehow unable to access.

"There is something about this unit that troubles you, Master. Allow me to…" It paused, eye fluttering slowing morosely. "Strange. I am unable to access this information."

"And with good reason, it's blocked. I know all there is to know about this one and I'd prefer that it not be discussed any further. Exercise complete, Twenty-Three." The look of consternation on his face was beginning to transition to anger. Twenty-Three's eye motions began again in earnest, as though the drone were struggling with something.

"Don't fight the block; it's there for a reason. You'll burn yourself out digging up shit you're not even supposed to be interested in, and then what? I have to start over with another drone." A few beads of sweat were now visible amidst Derek's furrowed brow. "And don't even think of using the Legion to hack your way through. If I find out you did, I'll fry you myself, is that clear?"

The eye stopped dead. "Affirmative, Master Lorenz. I meant no offense."

"Of course not, you're just curious. And although I'd like to say curiosity killed the cat, that was in fact foolhardiness. Curiosity was framed."

"I am afraid I must interject, Sir." The drone's voice was now pitched lower, and much clearer than previously. "There is a matter that requires your full attention, immediately. Are you aware of the time, Sir?"

"Ah, Phalanx, what is it?" This was the 32nd member of the Legion. It had no real physical form, but could speak through any of its 31 counterparts at will, as well as the ship's on-board P.A. system. This was the prototype learning supercomputer that ran all navigation functions, shipboard simulations, and had a part in designing Tau Gundam itself. Derek called this one Phalanx as a joke at first, poking fun at the Roman origins of the Legion by naming its leader after its Greek predecessor. The supercomputer didn't seem to get the joke. "I am perfectly aware of the time, and we still have an hour before the Coalition vessel arrives to bring us to perigee."

"The time itself does not concern me, Sir, but rather what must be accomplished during it."

"Speak clearly, Phalanx, I just got done playing games and I'm rather tired of them right now."

"I mean not to insult your intelligence by being blunt, Sir. Is there perhaps something you have forgotten? Something inherently mission-critical that absolutely cannot be done without?" Even in a deep monotone, the supercomputer's synthesized speech managed to sound condescending. Derek mused to himself for a moment.

"Mission critical… Forgotten? Everything's done; food, ammo, fuel, all stocked, Tau's locked and load…" A cold sweat began to bead on his brow. "Loaded…" Pupils dilated in horror. "Tau isn't loaded?!"

"Affirmative, Sir. We awaited your command, but none came."

"Now hold it, hold the damn phone for just one minute. I gave those instructions to Six. It didn't sync?"

"Unit Zero-Zero-Six synchronized approximately two hours ago. No additional commands were uploaded."

"Where is Six? Where is Zero-Zero-Six right now?"

"Zero-Zero-Six is currently within Habitation, Sir."

"Bring it here. Now"

"Negative. Preparations must be made immediately, in order-"

"Can it, we have time for a summary execution. Bring Zero-Zero-Six to me, immediately."

The bridge was silent for what seemed like days. "Affirmative, Sir."

Derek stood waiting with Twenty-Three for almost five minutes as Six was brought up to the bridge. The only noises in the air were the humming ventilation fans and the occasional click of the drone's chassis. The swish of the elevator doors heralded the arrival of the wayward drone, and it strode towards its master in a manner that was eerily familiar, as though Derek had seen it done just recently. Which, of course, he had.

"Master, Lorenz." The drone offered no further exposition, but simply awaited a command. Twenty-Three stepped back a few paces, and allowed its doomed brother to stand alone before its master. It knew what was coming.

"Zero-Zero-Six, at 07:30 I gave you specific instructions to relay to the Legion, instructions on the previously discussed loading procedure and the timeframe in which it was to be accomplished. Your task was to synchronize at the earliest opportunity, holding off on any previously assigned duties until this new directive was accomplished." The drone's eye fluttered similarly to its brother, but this was more of a solid vibration, which had been interpreted through multiple observations as being an expression of fear. "You did not do so, and instead neglected to synchronize until two hours previous. Is this correct?"

The drone did not answer.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there, can? I asked you a question."

The drone did not answer.

"If that's the way it's going to be, fine." He looked upward, as though speaking directly through the intercom. "Phalanx, isolate and purge Zero-Zero-Six. Restart from clean slate. I want it back online as-"

"We fear you."

He snapped back to look at his drone. "Damn right you should. So you think that disobeying my orders is going to make things easier for you? Is that how you think things should work around here, that you can just protest my treatment of you by neglecting to perform the ONE CRITICAL TASK we've been working towards for the past SEVEN YEARS?!" He had closed the distance between himself and Six, and was now screaming directly into the drone's parrot-face. "You are a drone for Christ's sake. I. Own. You." He punctuated each word with a jab of his finger, ineffectually at the drone's shoulder plate.

"Affirmative." Six then closed its eye, and slumped forward as it shut itself down. Effectively suicide, as the drone would not be able to reactivate with Phalanx occupying its systems. Within seconds, the drone stood upright, its pink eye replaced with a green one.

"Purge complete. We will occupy this unit until it can be reformatted. Now, Sir, if you please…"

"You don't have to tell me twice." He swiveled to face the bridge command console, and brought up the virtual screen that had deactivated hours earlier. Swift motions brought the ship's communications network into his control. "Attention all units, apparently you were waiting for instructions. My bad, I guess. Should have made double sure it got done."

"Sir-"

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Anyway, here's your command! Andalé, andalé! Macht schnell! All units to the hangar! Tau isn't going to load himself!" The two conscious occupants of the bridge broke into a dead sprint for the elevator, as the thunderous footsteps of the Legion could be heard from down the shaft, all synchronized and marching for one purpose; to accomplish in one hour what should have been done days ago.

Any reviews would be much appreciated. If not, just keep reading this stuff as I post it. That's enough, honestly, just knowing that people are interested in this.