BDC-MS-01p

.:BDC-MS-01p:.
Well, I figured it'd been too long since I posted anything, so, I decided it was time to make my brainchild of many years. (And, as you'll soon find, it's a custom pic, AND a fanfic!)

I'm one of those people who don't like the huge laser-toting type Mobile Suits/Gundams, as most of them ride far too close to the super robot line (like G Gundam). Now, sure, I can't say I can argue with the FAZZ, but ZZ was part of the full-canon UC timeline, which I think gives it every right to have a huge gun.

Anyway, I'm also one of those people who appreciate the hand-drawn linearts that someone scanned out of a book, and cleaned up a bit, more than the linearts recreated via PC, and then are filled with one blasting hue. With that philosophy, unfortunatley, it can be hard to find images that fit together nicely, as more and more of the old-school lineart becomes a pain to find (especially the more common or liked mecha). But, through some tweaking, I think I faired pretty true to my ultimate style.

The base image was the MS-18a Kampfer prototype, the MS-18E being the "Mass Production Type" (quoted since the unit total capped at one.) The shield comes from the later UC years around the Crossbone Vanguard and the Jupiter Empire (starting with F91 would be the likely place to see one of those thar shields, where the Vanguard's modifications of the Doga run of Neo Zeon started publicly running amock.) The cockpit, which I hope (which would tell me I'm doing my job right), is not the origional, but one taken from an XM-06 (another Crossbone mobile suit), which I'll make a point out of when I give the backstory for this. The rifle is taken from an MS-07b, with the magazine slightly modified to have a drop-point sort of assemblage, mostly because I didn't want to work out something else that worked. And, on the back should be two things all Gundam fans recognize, the funnel racks from the MSN-04 SAZABI. I had considered using the AMS-120 (The Geara-Doga Psycommu test type) as the base, but since I liked all of the elements of it's design, I would have just been recoloring it. On the leg, there is the "Seaserpent" unit insignia that belonged to a Zeon unit, that the years of operationg they had unfortunatley escapes me right now.

The three insignia to the left of the picture are the origional-sized Seaserpent graphic, a Zeon flag faded in twords the insignia, and the emblem of the Crossbone Vanguard, with closer to the ceremonial colors than on the shield. (The red canonically is far closer to crimson, or in some interpretations almost maroon.)

Thou who taketh shall findeth themselves below my prepared blade as they sleepeth. Gundam copywrite those guys who made it, the Zeon logo, Crossbone Vanguard, Mobile Suit MS-18 Kampfer, etc are (illegedly) registered trademarks of those guys as well.

And now for a good 'ol fashoned backstory. Like I had said, I'd had this idea for quite some time, where it origionally came to me when I was in charge of a Gundam RPG on a merry 'ol place called Elftown (which I have tried numerous times to get re-going, but have sadly failed each time.) The Kampfer had become my favorite mobile suit, because it looked cool, and had more of the nitty-gritty feel I liked from Gundam (if only it had been around for the 08th MS team...). So, I eventually cooked up an idea similar to the image above, a Kampfer with slightly modified, more angular armor (thank you prototype), a catalyst for newtypes (and I tip my hat to Char), wanted it to excell at melee combat (there are beamsabers there, really! And I had considered putting a sword on it's back, but with the funnel racks it looked... bad. But that's why it has the shield). And yet still wanted it to be able to take the fight at a distance (And while that's a fairly stock rifle, it's better than nothing.) So, partly through some roleplay in the 'town, and partly through me daydreaming through jobs, I came up with what I present to you, as the backstory (in breif, and occouring around the date UC 0124, mostly by canon, with a few, small liberties (mostly speculation) (and a general lack of proofreading since this took me longer to type up than it did to make the bloody pciture) of the BDC-MS-01p;

.:Backstory:.
The students at the academy always wondered what the old mad could do with what the affectionatley called, "The pile of junk's refuse." Of course, calling it junk's refuse was far too refined for many of the cadets, and calling the "old man" as such was a strech, since many of the cadets were older than him! A lot of things layed unanswered about both "The Admiral" as he insisted to be called, and his old Mobile Suit.
For one, nobody knew where he got such a thing. The story from other instructors had been that one day he just came back to the academy with a busted up Mobile Suit, and a ship full of junk, and then somehow managed to rig up something that could walk. Why he called himself "The Admiral" didn't made sense to anyone, even the instructors, since nobody knew of him serving any military time, which led to yet another question of where he learned to pilot a Mobile Suit if not in the academy or trial-by-fire. The BIGGEST thing people wondered about was, though, where the old man went for four or five months at a time.

He was the combat instructor. The cadets learned to pilot a Mobile Suit in VR sims, how to repair and care for them in labs with mechanics, and learned all of the various oddities of HOW to fight and survive with various other instructors. But the combat instructor, viewed by many as hardly an instructor, would suddenly leave after the cadets' first week, then just as suddenly re-appear at the last month of their learning, watching them all like a hawk. Then, the final examination left the cadets either sitting in a VR cocpit some eight feet from the 'ol coot, ready to square off in virtual combat, or, for those whom the combat instructor reccomended or deemed necessary, out in the icy vaccumb of space sitting in some "old" high-mobility prototype that the academy had managed to swipe the specs for a rebuild. The cadets, each run that saw the "BDC-MS-01" always wondered just how the hell that thing could fight, let alone in space, and each run of the soon-to-be-aces always got their rear ends handed to them as the struggled to keep a level bearing in the AGX-04 they were usually assigned for their final examination. Eventually though, some cocky new cadet decided to flat out ask "The Admiral" all of those questions people had been wondering for years.

-Cafeteria, Academy 1, Orbiting Luna-
"You can't go ask him like that! He's probably the one that has the most to decide if you ever get to leave here! If you don't get the OK from your combat exams, you either get to go here another six months, or you get shipped out with a med unit!" The Cadets piped in, hearing their friend's plan.

"Like hell I can't. I want to know, I'm going to ask him!" The cadet whom we shall call "Billy," shot back. "I bet he's full of more shit than that Mobile Suit of his!"

Billy, regardless of what his test scores said, was stupid. Very, very stupid.
Even though he was at the far wall of the spacious cafeteria from where the Admiral sat, his piercing gaze and the immedeate silence of the gathering did manage to tell Billy that he was a touch too loud.Standing up very slowly, the Admiral adjusted his fingerless gloves that he never seemed to take off, and without averting his gaze, reached into his back pocket and tied one of his signature bandanas around his head. "In all of my years," he began, "Of all of the classes of ruffians, ingrates, deliquents, and the occasional bright apple," he continued, "Of all the men and women that I've allowed to pass out of here as soldiers, and all those who gave up," he continued yet, increasing in volume, "not a ONE of them has lacked the common DECENCY to directly state, or even INSINUATE that either I, or my Mobile suit were 'full of shit'" He grabbed his tray, lightly jumped over the table he had been seated at, kicked off of it in midair, an act which caused the table to fly a considerable distance in the opposite direction, and ran straight up to Billy in what seemed to be less than a second, an act quite intimidating to the congregation, due to the large size that cafeterias normally are.

With the Admiral breating right down on Billy's face, most people would assume Billy would have the brains to apologize and beg for mercy, but, once again, Billy is stupid. "Ooh, so you're saying you're not?" Billy shot out.

Billy's classmates groaned, with a few "Dumbasses" thrown in.

Billy looked around at his classmates, grinning and chuckling, but none of them seemed to be sharing in his merryment. Turning back to the Admiral, who was now mime-leaning on some invisible pole and eating an apple, Billy got a shock, as the Admiral walked over to him, grabbed his belt, and dumped the remaning food (spagetti mostly) down his pants, with the comment "Tuck in your shirt, Cadet."

Throwing the tray onto a nearby table, the Admiral pivoted, facing the largest portion of the class, and yelled, "Class Field trip! Everybody follow me!" Turning and starting off with his brisk pace, most of the class started following like sheep. "Ooh, and another thing," The Admiral said, turning again, and almost knocking over some cadets, "I had better not have to remind anyone else to tuck in their shirts!"


-Hangar, Academy 1, Orbiting Luna-
"So Billy," The Admiral started, facing the crowd, having lost the weasly skunk during the walk, "Care to tell me why either I or my Suit is 'made of shit'? Does it appear to be made of the digestive remains of some animal?" He rhetorically asked. "Does anybody care to tell me why either myself or my Suit even warrants any attention?"

"It's old and doesn't match," One brave cadet shot out from the crowd.

"Well, blondie, cuffs and collars don't always match, but that never stops you from getting the job done, does it?" The Admiral shot back.

"Well, why is it so... so... you know..." Another, more tentatitve student asked. "And, I mean... some of us... the one-yearers, and the instructors... we do kind of wonder where you go off to..."

Preparing to make another snappy comeback, the Admiral checked himself. "Fair enough, and, you managed to ask two questions that tie together. You see," He began, walking over to his Mobile Suit and sitting down on it's left foot, "me and this old bucket of bolts go way back. Since this is supposed to be a field trip, I might as well make this almost educational. Can anybody tell me what the origional chassis for this unit was?"

"It kind of looks like the 'Kampfer' that Zeon used to attack that one side back in 0080." A nameless voice suggested.

"Very good. While the only Ms-18E Kampfer produced was destroyed by the Gundam Alex, as you said, in the year UC 0080, there were a few protoypes made by Zeon that never saw combat." The Admiral replied, nodding from time to time.

"Well, how'd you get something like that then? Wasn't the Kampfer supposed to replace the Zaku for mass-production and ground combat?" The same voice inquired.

"Again correct. While that fact is irrelavant, at least you're enlightening the rest of the class" The Admiral said with a wink so the cadet wouldn't think him as sarcastic. "Though, it does tie into another question many of you have, being where did I get the name 'Admiral'. You see, I fought on the side of Zeon in it's last days. I was born the day that Axis would have falled to Earth, and in fact probably would have been killed if it had fallen as Char intended."

"Wouldn't you hold a grudge against Zeon then?" Another cadet piped in.

"You would think that, but that is part of why you're here. I know what they wanted to do, but the point is I know WHY the wanted to do it. Many of you probably just think of Zeon as a bunch of terrorists or crazy colony-loving liberals. But that's not what they are at all. Zeon from it's concepton was an orginization made for brining equality to all humans."

"Then why the hell did they go around dropping colonies?" A voice suspiciously sounding like Billy's, cut in.

"Are you all familliar with the concept of imperialism?" The Admiral asked, greeted with silence, "Hrm, I was afraid not. Imperialism was something that happened a long time ago on Earth where one soverign nation would attack an "uncivilized" nation, and then place their own government, customs, and people on that land to 'help' the natives. As you can guess, people HATED it. Countless wars were fought over it, and it finally was ended when we still used the Amino Dominae way of marking years."

"But then with the colonies..." the "one-yearer" started.

"Exactly. With the colonies, suddenly there were large quantites of people being governed by a totally forign entity, without say on what they were or were not allowed to do, and without the right to govern themselves."

"And Zeon tried to stop that, didn't they?" the "smart" questioned.

"Again, dead on. While many of their methods were questionable, they wanted people to have the right to rule themselves. They took the first step at trying to unite all of the colonies, because at least then if they all had to follow one leader, it would be a colonist leader."

"...And do they dropped the colonies as a way to kind of say, 'if you want to rule this, take it back'?" The one-yearer inerjected.

"Yes. That and scare the living daylights out of each and every earth-faring man. Anyway, I fought with Zeon using Geara Dogas, mostly. There weren't many operations, just a few last futile attempts to futfil the old wishes of the Zabi family. Regardless, through my fighting with Zeon, and the leadership I brought with me regardless of where I was stationed, people, even officers who outranked me started calling me Admiral. Through my connections I gained by the respect I apparently merited, I was able to become friends with one of the old techies from the R&D department who had been involved with the Kampfer project. While, he assured, the only working final-run unit had been assigned to the Cyclops team, and sadly lost, there had been three prototypes made, and delivered to various proving grounds."

"Three?" One cadet simply asked.

"Yes, one was sent to a space proving ground, illegedly the same faility where the Neue Ziel was designed and built." The Admiral said with a grin, "One was sent to a facility somewhere in Russia, where the unit was able to be tested in a rural setting, with different ranges of cold, and one was sent to some desert somewhere. The desert one obviously faired horridly, due to the large amount of heat the Kampfer, and it's prototype generated. That unit was decomissioned into scrap. The space proving ground unit's report was never recieved, and it was presumed that the group who was in charge of it shipped off to Mars. And yes, there are rumors that many of them are around Jupiter right now. Now, the one sent to Russia. That one suffered an interesting fate. That base was abandoned, you see, and the prototype was accidently left. Now, sure, cold is hell of machines, but it preserves them. My friend in R&D managed to figure out it was down there, and we got together an excursion to pull 'er up, if nothing else so some old feddie faithfuls who wanted to try to hop back into the ranks wouldn't have a bargining chip."

"But the story is that your unit there was barely holding together when you got it here." Yet another random cadet piped in.

"True. Now, some of you know how I have no less than three lectures on why I think the feddies were stupid for using those piece of shit Jegans for fourty years. Ooh, excuse me, stupid feddies for using those piece of shit Jegans for fourty years SO FAR." The Admiral grumbled a bit to himself, then continued, "Well, bad as they are, when they send twenty five of those things at a Hannabal and two aged Geara Dogas, things get bad."

"But, you don't have a Hannabal, and I've never seen you come back in one." One of the instructors chimed in.

"That's exactly my point. And I'd get done a lot faster if all of you would stay quiet! Anyway, command deemed the mission fairly low-priority, and myself and two of my friends, one of which who was interested in copying some of the old tech logs, went down in my Hannabal, and two Geara Dogas we'd built from scraps."

"But you came back in a Magellen, one of those pretty-new fed ships..." Another instruction peeped.

With a glare, the Admiral replied, "Yet ANOTHER of my points that I was going to make for myself. The Feddies didn't hit us until we were well into the base. My wingman was out of his unit coaxing some old computers back to life, and my other comrade was manuvering the Hannabal onto a elevator so once we found the prototype, we wouldn't have to fly a significantly heavier brick down a shaft that was only really made to accomadate Mobile Suits. They started bombarding the base, and I jetted back out the shoot that we came in and fragged two Feddies as soon as I hit the outside. But, before long I figured that I was way out-matched, and there were only about ten enemy units launched at that point. So, I turned around and was planning on taking cover in the tunnel, but one of my Geara's legs was shot out before I could work myself into position. By this time, my pal had finished playing with computers and skid up along side of me, firing like a devil. He managed to drag me out of the open, but we figured that the thing wasn't going to be able to get back to the ship, and he certiantly couldn't drag it, so I hopped out of the cockpit, he picked me up, we filled 'er up with grenades, and started going back to the Hannabal.

The Feddies came a lot sooner than we'd planned on though, and so, as you can guess, when we blew up my old Suit, we were far closer to the blast than we wanted to be. By this time I was in the cockpit as well (which thankfully was rather roomy, I DID love those 360 panaramics...). Well, the collapsing tunnel clodded my pal's unit in it's right arm, which dinged up the shield enough that the arm was damaged, and pretty useless for firing a gun with. Luckily, shooting left-handed it far easier in a Mobile Suit than in your own two hands for most of us. So, by the time we were in sight of the Hannabal, our third partner in 'crime' had found the prototype, and was starting to load it up. We radioed him that I'd be taking it, and to leave the ship."

"Did everybody in Zeon like blowing up their own stuff so much?" A Billy-esc voice interjected.

"Very insightful on what we were going to do with the Hannabal." The Admiral said, nodding, "An no, just me!" Glaring at the place the voice had eminated from, the Admiral slowly turned back to the general group, his face relaxing, "We opened the elevator shaft, my wingman still in his Geara, our ship pilot in the prototype with me. To make a long story short, we pretty much made that Magellen shoot apart those Jegans, then we busted our way into the hangar, shot up the place, and took the bridge, then came here."

"But in the process your Kampfer almost was fragged, and why is it that the Feddies didn't follow?" The one-yearer asked.

"True on the first point, the cockpit was essentially completley destroyed. I might as well have been flying the thing using a piece of string. And on the second point, good karma," The Admiral replied, with a wink. "My friend's Geara was pretty much slagged, but we eventually used some of it's lateral thrusters to repair the ones on the prototype." Said the Admiral, crossing his arms and taking a manner as though his story was complete.

"And the 'modifications'?" One of the instructors asked.

Looking as though he was struck while in a daze, the Admiral shook his head a bit, turned, and looked up at his beloved Mobile Suit. "Ooh, right, that stuff." Clearing his throat and turning back twoards the group, "That leads me to what I do when I go away for months at a time. Anybody want to guess why I came back with a 'Nelson Refit' when I left with a Home Salvager? Come on now, think," The Admiral said, tilting his head forward and making it clear that he was pointing to the skull and crossbones on his bandana.

"You're a pirate?"

"Christ no! I'm a salvager. For shame, thinking your instructor is a pirate!" The Admiral said, with a look full of seriousness. "Alright, fair enough, I'm essentially a pirate." The Admiral said, with a wink. "Myself and my motly crew out out around Jupiter and help or hinder the Crossbone Vanguard depending on what'll suit us better, and what will yeild more poetic justice."

"Meaning?" Billy grunted.

The Admiral glared again, this time more because of Billy's stupidity. "Pirates pirating from pirates. You tell me. Really though, we did start as salvagers. Origionally it was the three of us who were in the Kampfer campaign, myself, Doc and Mac."The cadets looked around at eachother with a general show of confusion, to which the Admiral pointed to a nearby mechanic, "Mac," and then to the planetary flight instructor, "Doc."

"But I haven't ever noticed them leaving!" Another instructor pointed out.

"That's because they're not as excentric as myself," The Admiral replied, matter-of-factly. "Anyway, that cocpit," he said throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "First wreck we found was a crossbone ship that tried to eat an asteroid. It looked like, and we later found from video logs, that they'd deployed their suits to try to clear a path through the debris for their ship.
Unluckily for them, though, it looked like there was a bit more slag flying around than they'd counted on. From the logs, we think there were two ship, and about fifteen Mobile Suits between them. All the Suits were deployed, and shooting away at rocks, but then a really big one came out of nowhere. The Suits and ships managed to break it up a bit, but some of the Suits got fragged from friendly fire. Then, as luck would have it for them, the thing was big enough that it had a sizeable following of space junk. The least damaged of the two ships took cover behind the other, and the mobile suits started mostly pounding out for the hangars. But, there were a pair of XM-06s with Beam shields who camped out alongside of the hull of the ship doomed to take the brunt of the attack. They spaced out, covering the more vital areas as the ship tried to manuver to get it's more armored top twords the hail, but quickly the first unit's shields failed, and it overheated, immedeatley detonating. The second unit fared far better, it's shields lasting a good twenty seconds longer. Though, the second unit somehow didn't overheat, and it quickly got out it's beam saber and kept doing it's derndest to stop the ship from recieving too much damage."

"Eventually," The Admiral continuted, "The space-junk stopped raining, and the remaining XM-06, which by this point was pretty much a flying torso, as the legs had both been clear blasted off, along with one arm, and most of it's head and veriners, jetted off the side, manuvered around, and crashed into the hangar. The crews made whatever they could out of whatever they had, piled into the second ship, and left, leaving the first ship's cadaver behind, along with the XM-06's amazingly undamaged torso. So, when we came upon the thing, I figured that that thing had a good chest on it, and my suit greatly needed one. So, we put 'er in the hold, and the next time I came back, we worked it in." The Admiral paused, telling a cadet to get him some water, and ignoring any questions or comments until the cadet came back. "Now, the rest of the stuff is less interesting. My R&D friend also got to work on the Sazabi project, and managed to slip me the specs for the funnels and racks."

"You're a newtype?" One more of the many cadets asked.

"Not the way you'd think of it." The Admiral tentatitvely started. "I can control a max of two funnels with my mind, but then can't steer or anything. I can pilot the thing normally and mentally control one funnel."

The group of cadets seemed satisfied with that, since even one funnel could be a great battle asset, except for one, the smart one. "I've seen your battle videos, you can control all six, AND the Suit!"

With a grin, the Admiral pulled out a magnetic cable gun, "Indeed I can." He shot the gun up at the now opening cockpit, and proceeded to zip up the line.
"This is how." He said, emerging from the cockpit holding a round device with five sticks coming from it in a radial fashon mimicing a hand. "On my right hand, one stick for one funnel, plus the one with my mind, makes six." Grinning, he went back into the cockpit, and slid back down the line.

"The gun?" Another cadet asked

"Stock MS-07 machine gun." The Admiral said with a shrug. "Bought it at Gun Depot."

"And what about the stupid shield and decal?" Billy had to ask.

"The shield was from another pirating run, the one where I lost that Home ship. I rammed a Crossbone Suit against a gas container, he got fragged, lost hold of his shield, I jetted out of the ship in my Suit, and grabbed his shield as I flew over to the recently re-occupied Nelson I now have. As for the decal, it was an old Zeon unit I used to hear stories about, and I just like it." With one more grin the Admiral stood up. "Now, who'd like to see me kick Billy's ass!?"

The communal "Aye!" shouted from the group left Billy running, and shortly later, sitting and quaking in fear, in a Jegan some 200 meters away from the "old shit".