Forgive my excessively poetic and ambiguous introduction to what is already a somewhat unlikely and complicated tale. Although you may, perhaps, know enough of the story I am about to tell to understand my meaning right from the beginning, either from your own experiences or from records recounted in books of Mobian History, I will nevertheless endeavor to give as complete a summary as I can, omitting nary a detail for the sake of the future generations that might not be so familiar as we with what are, from our perspective, very recent events. That being said, I will begin without further ado.

In the 1870th year of the Age of Enlightenment following the unification of the entire Pangaean continent, the rapid technological advancements of the Mobian civilization at last reached the point where colonization of the closer of Mobius' two moons, Luna, was deemed viable, and, indeed, potentially profitable, due to the favorable results of unmanned geological surveys in the past. At last, the Mobian government drafted a plan for colonization, and, in what was, at the time, the pinnacle of the Mobian space program, they began launching transport ships of the most capable volunteers in the hopes of carving out a new dominion in the harsh wilds of Luna.

Due to its size, rivaling that of Mobius itself, and its geosynchronous orbit, Luna possessed an atmosphere as well as a certain level of gravity and a roughly even climate. However, although its atmosphere contained enough oxygen for Humans to potentially survive, its temperatures were so low as to make living on the surface an impossibility. This forced the colonists to delve underground, creating networks of climate controlled mines, tunnels, and living spaces. However, even with the expenses that was taken to keep the new colony adequately supplied, many of the initial lunar settlers did not survive. The mortality rates were high enough that volunteer rates for the colonization project plummeted, forcing the government to turn to convicts as a source of cheap labor.

Nevertheless, although there were great initial hardships, the Luna Colony eventually became a fully functional dwelling beyond the confines of the Mobian sphere. In order to transport supplies to the colony and to more conveniently export the rare minerals that were unearthed by the mines there, the space program eventually took a new turn, one which eventually paid off in the form of the crowning achievement of both Luna and Mobius: the orbital elevator that now connects the two, allowing immigrants and commerce to travel easily between the two within the span of 24 hours. This ushered the populations of both the planet and its moon into a new golden age of economic prosperity and technological discoveries. This Lunar Age, denoted by the Lunar Calendar starting from the year of Luna's original colonization, lasted for several decades.

However, although Luna had most certainly progressed since its founding, many of its citizens were far from content with their lifestyle. The underground dwellings of the Luna colony were a far cry from the high-tech apartments and homes of the surface, and its cavern networks paled in comparison to the grand metropolises spreading across Pangaea on the planet below. The convicts who had initially been sent to the colony as a cheap source of labor now made up over 70% of its population, and, angry both at their low-paid, harsh lifestyle, and at the taxes they were forced to pay as a state of the Mobian World Union, this overwhelming majority of malcontents at last revolted, usurping control of the Lunarian colony almost overnight. Declaring themselves an independent nation, they armed themselves, retooling humanoid mining and heavy lifting machines to serve as a bizarre sort of mechanized infantry. Being accustomed to the moon's low gravity and equipped to last in the frigid wastelands of Luna, they took control of the orbital elevator, and pushed back the Mobian military's every attempt to gain a foothold on the planet, using their heavily built and, in the low gravity, tremendously nimble makeshift war machines to utterly decimate the subjugation forces.

Realizing that their current tactics would not work on an unfamiliar world, the Mobians thus began research into similar Humanoid mechanized infantry units, hoping to match the agile and versatile machines of their enemies. In the meantime, a temporary truce was called, with both sides reluctantly supplying their enemies with necessities - the Mobians trading food for the Lunarians' valuable metals - all the while commencing an arms race into the field of mecha. So began a cold war that, contrary to expectations, eventually died down as both sides resumed trade out of necessity, as detailed above, leading the age of Lunarian Independence, which began in 124 L.C.

The Lunarian government, although initially intended to run on a democratic model, swiftly evolved into a sort of hereditary oligarchy, as the population of the new Independent Lunarian Dominion universally voted for the heroes of the revolution, reelecting them even beyond their set term limits. This, in turn, led to a series of reforms of the ILD's constitution, merging the three branches of government into a single Council of Lords, the seats of which were granted for life, and restricted to the direct descendants of the favored Lunarian families, creating an aristocratic class, the families of which rose into or fell out of power depending on their popularity. Although this system prevented outright tyranny, as the nobility's members were elected to power by popular vote, it caused a schism between the middle classes and the nobility, setting the aristocrats and their families up as Lords, even when they were not elected, while the middle classes were deemed these nobles' inferiors. This stood as a direct contrast to the MWU's constitution, with its former upper class serving only as a figurehead while the actual governing was done by temporarily elected officials who remained equal to the populations they governed.

In both societies, however, even despite their differences, the First Lunar War had caused a dramatic cultural shift. Despite their proven inefficiency on Mobius itself, mechanized humanoid armor frames became the standard venue of warfare, both simulated and actual, within both societies. To be a mecha pilot was almost like being a knight, as it was a position that commanded a great deal of honor and respect in both cultures. Consequently, the rich of Mobius and the aristocracy of Luna both began to devote themselves to this novel and dignified profession. Military academies devoted solely to learning how to pilot a mecha frame began to spring up, and those with the money or the skills to attend these expensive institutes more often than not did so.

Foremost amongst these new piloting schools was the Grey Heights Military Academy, located in an old military base overlooking the Grand Metropolis, the largest of all Mobian cities, surrounding the base of the Orbital Elevator itself. As Grand Metropolis was a sort of neutral zone between the MWU and the ILD, it was open to both Mobians and Lunarians. Although the latter largely remained on their own world, there were some of the noble houses who sent their heirs to learn at Grey Heights due to the high regard it was held it. It is here that several names that are now quite famous first came to be known, and where the most famous aces of both factions first learned their craft...