The confetti continued to dance in the air like snow. The fragments that covered the sky were scattered over, mixing together with the cheers of the people, forming a vortex. This vortex rose up due to the wind currents of the artificial airflow, and the multi-colored powder of light swayed as it rose up the colony’s sky.
Right, left, right, left. Suberoa Zinnerman recited as he marched at the same pace as his breathing, darting his eyes as he tried to look at the crowd that was moving by. There were young children holding military flags and old people with their backs arched, looking like soldiers who returned to their hometown. A woman poked her head out from amidst the human wall, waving a handkerchief, and she was probably looking for her lover amongst the squad that came back. Zinnerman immediately looked around to check that there were no stupid soldiers who would wave back at the woman.
There were no radicals that could be seen messing up the formations’ proceedings. All the soldiers wore metal helmets that covered their ears and necks and their secondary combat uniform. They were equipped with rifles that worked under gravity, slung on their shoulders, and they turned their tense expressions before. Right, left, right left. Zinnerman saw that they did not mess up in their marching, and secretly felt relieved that the special training was taking effect. The newly gathered recruits formed more than half their ranks, and old experienced officers like Zinnerman had always been guiding the actions of these rookies, training them until they could attend a parade, whether it was in the past, or at this point. He finally managed to train them to a decent level, including the newly-appointed squad leaders who had brand new officer-use mantles on them. Feeling satisfied, Zinnerman looked over at the other end where the formation was, the large building located at the end of the avenue.
The Chancellor Government Building, which thoroughly displayed the splendor of capital of the Principality of Zeon “Zum City”, was a large building that had 3 sharp towers on the tip of the chalice-like structure, built in a complicated planar structure, and it looked like an angry man’s face when seen from the front. To think that I would be marveling at this Zeonism cultural promotion at its finest, the government office where Chancellor Degwin Zabi lives in. Zinnerman never thought that this day would calm, and as he secretly tried to suppress the agitation as he was about to laugh out, he continued to divert his eyes onto both sides of the avenue. The confetti continued to fall like snow, and the brick houses that were built in the style of European streets were lined side by side with each other, and the banners that were dropped down from the windows had large handwritten words on them. There were words like “Beat the Earth Federation Government!” “Let the Principality of Zeon gain real independence!”. There was a satirical image of a Federation soldier hanging onto Earth on a banner with the words “Save our national patriots!”, and on it, there was an illustration of a mobile suit that looked like a “Zack” point its machine gun at them.
Save our national patriots, huh? That doesn’t sound bad. Zinnerman thought. It had been more than 20 years since he, a gruff person of no education and charisma, joined the Principality of Zeon Defense force. For a man like him, who would have ended up as a mob member if he did not do this, those overbearing words would be tough to live up to. This place was changed into a Principality after Zeon Deikun died, and as drastic things happened, including the growth of the national army, they had to withstand the financial sanctions from the Federation government. Even though the hopes of colony self-government they betted on were trampled on, even though they endured oppression after oppression, even though the days of hibernation would continue—this day would be a glorious day for these people who were already prepared to live their lives like this.
It was January 3rd, Universal Century 0079. The fuse signaling Zeon’s war for independence was lit when Operation British started at a lightning-quick speed. The Sides that were allied with the Federation were crushed, and Earth took a severe hit due to the colony drops. It will be our turn next; the mission entrusted to us will be to bear the fate of the Principality and fight into enemy ranks. What other stage allows old-timers like us to perform when we offer no advantage besides our determination?
“It has been a month since the war started. With every soldier’s rigorous pro-activeness, our Zeon Principality had finally suppressed the Earth Federation government as we hoped. But we still have to win this tough battle if we want the Federation to succumb, and for us to fulfill the ideals of our founding father Zeon Deikun.”
Supreme Commander Gihren Zabi said as he faced the thousands of soldiers located at the plaza in front of the Government Building. Zinnerman could not even see the live broadcast on the large television screens, let alone see him talk on the stage. He pricked his ears to listen to the loud baritone, stared at the wall of spectators waving their right hands, and looked for the petite figure of his wife, who should be here to send him off.
With the help of the squadron leader, a close friend, all officers’ families would have special treatment, so there was no reason for her to be behind the human wall. His wife, Fee, who had been supporting him for many years through, and his lone daughter, Marie, who he finally got the chance to meet after a long time, were supposed to be there. Where are they—?
“There was a saying that this one month war caused half the human population to die off. Because of this, many theories have slandered us, the Principality of Zeon, as mass murderers that humanity had never seen before. But is that really true? About 100 years ago, humanity, which had worn out Earth to its limits, found a new lease of lease by sending the overflowing populace into space. This itself is a good thing, and it is worth mentioning as an accomplishment for human civilization. But in the long history natural ecosystem, only humanity continued to grow in size. Is this not a blasphemy against naturalism? Humanity followed its own desires without reflecting, and the results of pushing our living sphere into space is that we created a group of privileged people that controls Earth. They created an inapt government that created the laws that would protect the Federation, and believed that they could control space from Earth. They even carried out used the term ‘absolute democracy’ to cover the fact that they’re a bureaucracy, and even used the resources obtained from space to develop Earth. This act itself is foolishness even as compared to a reversal of priorities!
Now is the time for humanity to look at itself again. As part of the natural ecosystem, we should remain humble to nature, to Earth. If we consider this viewpoint, can’t we view 5 billion people’s deaths as atonement that humanity should do to nature? If that’s the case, the responsibility given to us is a huge one. With countless sacrifices as our basis, we have been given the responsibility to create a new management system that allows humanity to live on forever.”
Found them. Zinnerman saw the familiar faces from amidst the faces in the human wall that were the size of beans, and swallowed his voice that was about to come out from his throat. Fee, who was wearing a new coat she bought for this day, had put in effort to doll herself up as she smiled. Perhaps she noticed him here? Marie, who just passed her fifth birthday, was held in her mother’s hands, and it seemed like she was waving a military flag at him. Those plump and soft arms…!
“To all officers and soldiers gathered here, you have the honor of leading the invasion on Earth. Basically everyone has no experience of standing on Earth, and we have never seen the light of Earth for ourselves. I suppose that everyone will not be at peace, as we’re about to enter an unknown world, enemy territory.
But I hope that you do not forget about the founding ambition of Zeon. Do not forget what Zeon Deikun said, that the humans who come to space will revolutionized. This Side 3 on the back of the Moon is furthest from Earth, and amongst the people that were released into space, we’re the lowest level of Spacenoids. But because of that, we can become an outstanding race that can manage the next generation of Earth. We’re the chosen people who can view humanity objectively through the depths of space.”
The baritone increased in intensity, and the air that was concealed within “Zum City” rumbled. Is that the usual most outstanding humanity survival he’s good at again? No need to go about with those extra reasons, just tell us to win the battle for our country and for our families, right? Zinnerman grumbled somewhat unhappily in his heart as he continued to glance aside at his wife, and as expected, they noticed him. He could see that Marie was throwing a tantrum, wanting to get to her father. It’ll be great if I can go over there to carry her—
“Everyone, we are not invaders. We are descending on Earth to educate people and liberate them from the weak and corrupted hands of the Federation. As long as we, the superior ones, are the ones managing, humanity can approach a real utopia. Sieg Zeon!”
The cheers rained down at this moment, and several hundred thousand people’s passionate cheers rocked the entire colony. Sieg Zeon, Sieg Zeon. Zinnerman, who got caught in the passionate cheers as he raised his hands, suddenly felt uneasy as he felt concerned about his wife. He could not see the faces of Fee’s group as they were covered by the numerous fists. The crowd that was riled up emotionally by Gihren were only concerned about getting engrossed in his words, creating a riot that gradually swallowed his wife and daughter.
CALM DOWN, YOU PEOPLE! THERE’S A KID HERE! Zinnerman felt a chill from the rumbling and howling crowd as he only cared about looking for Fee and Marie’s faces. Confetti continued to fall like snow, and the shouts of ‘Sieg Zeon’ continued to rumble. Fee was pushed by the crowd that wanted to head to the front, and her unsteady body appeared at the edge before disappearing from amongst the coats of the crowd.
Zinnerman resisted the urge to break ranks and get to them as he reached his neck out to look for them. He could vaguely see Marie crying from amidst the human wall, and the military flag she was holding was dropped onto the avenue, trampled by some unknown person—
The noise of the emergency call easily broke through the membrane of his sleep. As his fingers automatically pressed on the panel button, Zinnerman let out a hoarse “What is it?” as he undid the fastener of his sleeping bag completely.
“We’ve caught sight of an allied unit’s identification signal. The guess is that it’s the guest you mentioned.”
“I’ll go over right away.”
Zinnerman did not look at Gilboa Sant on the monitor as he cut the ship’s communication. He rubbed his oily face, rose up from the sleeping bag and let his body float towards the door. He grabbed the leather jumper that was floating in the air and glanced at the mirror at the side of the door.
During these ten years, his hairline had receded back completely, and his face became loose and limp. The current image of this tired man in his fifties was of complete contrast with the old him as Zinnerman looked back at the back in doubt, wondering in his heart who in the world this person was.
The cheers of the people became a pipe dream, and a body that was like a remnant was looking at the mirror in this utterly cold captain’s room. Zinnerman heard the sounds of his dream dissipating, and estimated the time that passed ever since that day. 17 years—well, I’m already so old, and yet this is enough time for someone to change what’s happening in the world, is it not? Zinnerman gave a bitter smile as he thought about how he could still live on to this time. This man’s country and family was broken, and he, who had nothing else to continue living for, may had viewed the revival of Zeon as a wish he was banking on, but he never believed anything deep within, and he never felt that he could get back anything like this. This man was glancing at the world where everything to him was erased, and was just living aimlessly.
No—even if it were a hundred years, there were some things that could not be erased. The faces of his wife and daughter Zinnerman saw in his dreams blew aside the bitter smile in his chest. Zinnerman heard of the end of the war in a detention barrack, and on that day, when he returned to his homeland that was called Principality of Zeon, when he saw that his homeland became a ‘public toilet’ of hungry soldiers who offered themselves to the Federation, Zinnerman decided that he would continue fighting until he died. The end point called victory never existed, and he continued to fight in order not to lose his mind, in order to stuff the deep valley that was opened within his heart, the crack leading to an endless hell—he knew that he was already crazy psychologically, and he knew that he could not fill that crack no matter what he did.
“Sieg Zeon, huh…”
The aftereffects of the dream caused the utterly cold air to waver slightly before fading away. To heck with your Sieg Zeon! Zinnerman stamped on the floor and left the captain room that was a dreary sight to him.
At this point, they were 150,000km away from the shoal space region of L1, and the light of the Earth shining through the bridge window looked as large as a basketball. That mobile suit left the disposable booster board it used and slowly closed in on the “Garencieres”.
As its name suggested, the board-shaped booster board with laser rocket engines installed on both left and right sides was abandoned behind, and the giant with a flat head on the back. It was the RMS-119 “Eye-Zack”. The machine that had its own sleeve features lit the balance burners, negating the inertia from the booster board as it gradually matched the relative velocity of the “Garencieres”. The hatch at the back of the ship was opened, and the sliding-type cargo hangar was opened for about 30 seconds. The “Eye-Zack” drew a direct trajectory as it interacted with the hangar, and the extended restraints of the supporting frame held the machine.
Once the hangar took the machine in, air immediately flowed into the mechanical deck. Zinnerman waited for the alert light ‘Air’ to change from red to green before entering the mechanical deck. Due the long and narrow triangular shaped ship frame of the “Garencieres”, there was a long and narrow hollow on the front and back side of the mechanical hangar—or rather, above and below. There were 3 “Geara Zulus” docked with their backs facing each other at the tail end of the ship, the base of the triangular prism. Normally, there would be a “Kshatriya” occupying the upper level deck at the front of the ship, but at this point, there was no sight of the larger than average machine. The one replacing the “Kshatriya” at that place was the grey-colored “Eye-Zack” that did not seem to have any place to stand properly as it took up three mobile suits’ worth of space.
“Is it the old-fashioned EWAC?”
“This is a machine of little significance that’s here just to make up the numbers after we evacuated from “Palau”. They probably won’t feel any pity even if it were sent here.”
Flaste Schole, who was accompanying, said with a tone of disagreement. Zinnerman passed through the wide upper deck as he glanced aside at the “Eye-Zack” that had been used for a long time. The deck crew and the mechanics were already on it, and the normal suits with the logo mark Rivacona Cargo” on them were floating around the deck. They did prepare a set of book data for a cargo ship as disguise, like route certificates and cargo catalogs, but they could not guarantee that they could pass through the absolute defense line leading easily by sending data information to the patrol later. If a patrol ship met them on their way, the plan would be for this group of people to line up on the upper deck and give smiling faces at the mobile suits that would arrive on the ship for inspection.
Normally, they could sneak through about 8-9 times out of 10, but the recent commotion forced security measures to be tightened, and it would not be easy to slip by the Federation army with their tense eyes. Zinnerman landed on the deck on both feet, reached his hands at his neck and looked up at the giant body of the “Eye-Zack”. What exactly is the ‘guest’ that approached us at this time planning? Zinnerman was not given much time to think as the cockpit cover located at the machine’s abdomen was opened. Looking from afar, he could see a tall figure in the pilot suit appearing from behind the hatch.
That person pushed aside the mechanic that was intending to approach him and descended towards Zinnerman. His face could not be seen as it was covered by the helmet visor, but he remembered that demeanor that showed no openings. The man did not look away from Zinnerman at all as he stopped on the deck 3m about away before reaching for his helmet.
“I’m Gael Chan. I’ll be in your care for a while.”
The bald man took off his helmet as he showed a fearless look. There was no mistake about it; he was the follower who accompanied Cardeas Vist when Zinnerman met them on “Industrial 7”, and also the watchdog of the Vist Foundation. Both of them, who once pointed guns at each other, exchanged looks, and at this point, Zinnerman could still identify blazing antagonistic intent from the other party. He cautiously asked back, “I suppose I won’t have to introduce myself, do I?”
“Why would a confidante of the Vist Foundation like you be at such a place?’
The “Rewloola” only notified them about the guest’s name and history, but did not tell them about why Gael visited them. Gael’s sharp stare glanced at Flaste, who put his hand on the pistol on his waist, and then turned right back at Zinnerman “This has nothing to do with the Foundation” and said with an emotionless expression.
“On a side note, there is nothing about my arrival here that is related to anyone here. There is a debt I have to deal with some people on the “Nahel Argama”. If I want to approach that place, I will have to borrow the power of the “Sleeves”.”
The eyes that showed no signs of wavering looked like there were black burns on the white eyeballs. This guy is the same as me—he’s unable to release his emotions and lost all other choices in life. Zinnerman felt his hardened chest shuddering as he asked, “So you’re trying to take revenge for your master?”, and Gael’s eyes remained unmoved as he answered with silence.
“So you’ll even use your enemies to achieve your goals…it’s not a trendy thing to do this nowadays.”
“Whatever you say. To me, Cardeas Vist isn’t just someone I’m indebted to, its because he’s my master. if that were the case, who would want to ride on this mobile suit that’s filled with the stench of Zeon?”
Gael’s words probably were not just directed at the “Eye-Zack” that was similar to the Principality’s “Zack” exterior. To this man who survived the One Year War as a Federation soldier, people like us may be descendants of the demon that forced half the human race to die to him. Zinnerman used his hand to suppress the rising killing intent, and Flaste, who wanted to step forward unceremoniously, “You’re not going to build friendships with us? Fine by us.” relaxed his lips as he said.
“But since you’re on this ship, you’ll have to listen to me. Everything that happened in “Industrial 7” will not be mentioned until both of us achieve our aims. Is that fine with you?”
“I understand that it was an accident.” Gael continued without breaking his stiff expression, “I’m intending to settle this debt with someone else, and besides, I haven’t snapped your necks here, so please trust me.”
As this person stood while not caring about the antagonistic intent around him, there was bleak and gloom on the back of this person who had no place to return to. He might be a god of death that may bring disaster to this ship—but that’s fine. If we’re going to raise trouble against the largest army in history, why don’t we call in a death god too? Zinnerman lowered his face that was letting out a chortle, and ordered a deck crew member nearby, “Bring him to the room. I’ll listen to any words he wants to say later.”
Gael let the crew member accompany him as he stepped on the floor and left the scene gradually. “What’s with that bastard…” Flaste would not turn his heinous stare away from the back of the other party as he said this, but Zinnerman said, “Don’t mind.”
“Since he introduced himself to be from Anaheim, even Frontal can’t just leave him alone. Besides, that man will be useful at a certain moment, since he’s someone who understands the workings within Anaheim.”
The Federation army intruded at the venue of the dealing, and Cardeas Vist died amidst the chaos. Now that they recalled it, it was not hard to imagine that it was a family dispute that happened over the “Laplace Box”. There was definitely something going on between Cardeas, who wanted to break the deadlock in the world through the opening of the “Box”, and someone else, who used his assassination to protect the Vist Foundation and gain the benefits—Zinnerman turned his back on Flaste, who finally understood as he frowned, and looked back at the “Eye-Zack” that was standing there.
“That machine is way too pitiful to be left here as a replacement for the “Kshatriya”. We have to bring the “Kshatriya” and the princess back together soon…”
Our aim isn’t just this after all. Zinnerman did not exchange looks with Flaste, who nodded his head silently, and nudged his stiff beard on his jaw. He suddenly felt an emotion that made it hard for him to breathe and stepped on the floor.
He rejected all human things he could get in order not to lose, but this body of his was trembling because he realized how important the people he lost were. The empty container deck overlapped the hole in his heart, and he could not move due to an overwhelming chill. I’m a lost cause here, Zinnerman mocked himself in his heart as he left the deck that did not have Marida’s machine.
The light that rose up from beside the feet was so bright that even the anti-glare filter could not negate it completely. The pink incandescence light continued to swirl in a vortex, and a halation appeared on the all-view monitor as the plasma surrounding the machine continued to let out terrifying cracking sounds.
The speed of descent was more devastating than expected. The worry that the machine would burn up at any moment and the fear of being devoured by the heat wave struck her. Mineva Lao Zabi continued to be rattled by the shockwaves striking the cockpit as she stared at the monitor that was heating up as her tense body continued to be pressed down on the assistance seat. The incandescence light was formed by the thin air that was converted into plasma, and not the burning of the machine itself; however, the surface temperature was already past 1,500 degrees Celsius and rising. The frictional heat from the atmosphere and the aerodynamic heating caused by adiabatic compression caused the “Delta Plus” to be burned by the unavoidable heat as it descended into the atmosphere. As the name Waverider implied, the aerial fighting machine that was burned red as it rode on the plasma wave was gradually gliding down this large and thick atmosphere.
It was approximately 2 hours ago from the moment the machine broke through the absolute defense line and got detected by the patrolling Federation warships. The “Delta Plus”, which was deemed to be a ‘ghost’ that died off in battle, appeared, stopped, went through endless questioning that was repeated, and ended up choosing to shake off the pursuers and move forward. The machine made use the rebounding effect of the atmosphere to enter low orbit as it entered the atmosphere through the polar track covering the axis of the north and south poles. It was unknown whether the ‘family’ Riddhe mentioned about used its power as the intercepting satellites did not take action, but it did not matter to the “Delta Plus” that entered the atmosphere from the south pole.
One would know that this layer that surrounded the blue planet like soap bubbles was a scorching hot endless wilderness the moment they ended. Once they rushed into the atmosphere, they could only leave the machine’s controls to the electronic navigation system and wait for the moment they leave the burning hell. The “Delta Plus” frame that was pulled by gravity was heating up as it broke through the atmospheric wall at a speed of Mach 20. If one believed in the inertial navigation device capabilities to calculate the current location through speed, time and machine movement, the current height at this point would be 70km. it had been more than 10 minutes since they entered the atmosphere. They were entering safely at a more gradual angle to reduce the resistance, but did this really take that much time? The incandescence light became red hot light without warning, and the machine that went from the thermosphere into the mesosphere started to be covered by heat as Mineva glanced at the face of the man sitting on the linear seat beside her.
Riddhe Marcenas, who was holding onto the control stick tightly, had his tense face covered by red hot light here. It was probably the first time that he entered the atmosphere in a unit alone without hoping for any data link from the mothership or ground control. Mineva recalled how she used to observe the burning atmosphere from the small window when she rode on a shuttle into the atmosphere in the past. She would also imagine herself riding on the shuttle as she glided through the atmosphere through the visuals obtained from the observation satellites that could still receive visual feed as she descended. Leaving a white scratch in the transparent atmosphere and creating a shockwave trajectory that’s 1/3 the circumference of the planet—that was really beautiful. Mineva felt that she, who was born in space and could logically view planets and colonies equally, was instantly absorbed by the established Nature at that moment. I wonder if this “Delta Plus” is carving out a similar trajectory? She turned her neck that was originally frozen in fear and looked at the roof through the normal suit visor.
The machine that was protected by anti-heat functions was feeling the frictional heat from below, and the rear top side of the all-view monitor was not covered by the red hot light. The thin atmosphere that looked distorted by the shockwaves went from pitch black into thick indigo, and after that, the vacuum that turned navy blue swayed as the sharp starry light continued to flicker as they faded fast.
Space became sky—The moment Mineva inadvertently said that, the red hot light at her feet decreased drastically, and what replaced it was a strong light that shone in from the right side on her.
Riddhe pulled the control stick, and the activation sounds of the rear wings was mixed together with the tremors. The main wings endured the thick atmosphere, and the G-force that struck back leaped on the machine that decelerated out of a sudden. The “Delta Plus” moved through the stratosphere as it switched into manual mode. Mineva felt the force pushing her forward hard, but she continued to look at the source of the light that was shining into the cockpit.
The light of the sun was there. It was not an extremely hot celestial body that was seen in space, but a friendly light that was apt for a day. It’s the bright warm light that passes through the atmosphere and graces all living things below it…!
The overly bright light caused Mineva to reach her hand out to block it as she turned her stare to the front. As the blue sky showed absolutely no traces of clouds, the white patterns of the altostratus clouds could be seen floating at her feet. The sea should be further below at where the plains of light below the intertwining clouds floating around were. Our estimated course is that we’ll be above the Caribbean Sea, so is this the place? Mineva inadvertently opened her helmet visor and stared at the sea that was dazzling as it reflected sunlight.
She could not see the waves rising and falling from the stratospheric height they were at, and the sea was like a transparent blue glass panel that covered the surface of the planet. The long and wide arc that marked the horizon was lying further down, and the two layers, the sky and seas showed the contours of the Earth. What a color, what a magnificent expanse! Mineva could not tell what sort of situation she was in as she faced the world that expanded in front of her on the all-view monitor. She felt the blood in her body moving to her buttocks, but she did not feel uneasy about it. She knew that her body cells were being active, reclaiming the sense of balance humans originally had. She understood and recognized real gravity, and her body was radiating heat because she was shuddering in delight rising from deep within.
The place where all life was born, and the place where all life returns to; this is—
“Welcome to Earth.”
Riddhe said as he smiled slightly, the same scenery was being reflected off his brown eyes. The voice that was not heard for a long time was half negated by the roaring of the fusion core jet rocket engines, and the rumbling air flow covered the cockpit. Everything and anything was rich, noisy, and unlike space, where time stood still, everything here was bustling. Light, wind, sounds, everything was changing at the moment. She could not hear her own breathing as she got engrossed in the breath of the Earth, and stared at the horizon that was on the other end.
The Shock Cone surrounding the machine expanded gradually as it merged itself within the blue sky. The “Delta Plus” that had decelerated to Mach 2 slowed down further and let the worn out scorching hot machine descend to the troposphere. The North American continent did not care too much about the invaders that came barging in from space as it expanded in front of their eyes, basked in the gentle light of morning.
The phone rang. The crisp and clear bell sound of the antique phone echoed off the tall living room ceiling, caused the decorations on the chandelier to tremble slightly, and landed on the Alanveil-styled hard wood floor.
A pair of thoroughly polished leather shoes walked past that floor silently. Douglas Dwiyon remained unhurried, elegant but quick as he crossed the living room in a gliding-like manner, just as how he instructed the servants strictly usually, as he went right at the corridor where the telephone table was. He used his fingertips to wipe away the dust lying on the Bergère chair, glanced aside at the Monet scenery painting, and walked towards the corridor. This butler clad in black clothes basked under the morning sunlight that shone in through the glass panel of the terrace as he crossed the middle-aged styled solemn-looking furniture. Dwiyon himself could be seen as one of the antiques too, and in fact, his overemphasis attitude and his old age had earned him the nickname of an Antique amongst the maids and the cooks, but he himself was not overly concerned by it.
Every family member had a phone in this room, but Dwiyon would be in charge of picking up this call that was made with the help of a namecard. No matter who that person was, he must not be complacent as he would be giving the first impression of this family. Dwiyon tidied his bow tie with his hands and cleared his voice, “Yes?” and let out let out an attentive yet sophisticated-sounding voice that was hard to catch up with into the phone.
The old butler had been serving this household for more than 30 years, and he had already mixed in the flair of the family into his voice, but it was still not that overwhelming to the other party. The sound that came from the phone was a commotion that was of a completely different dimension from this famed family that was based in Southern USA.
(Hello, this is the Cheyenne Anti-air Command branch of the Federation Air Force. I’m the Duty Officer, Lieutenant Colonel Dickson Meyer, and based on emergency protocols, I’m contacting with regards to relevant issues. May I know if Chairman Ronan Marcenas is here?”
The wall clock indicated 9am at this moment. DONG. DONG, and the bell chimed at this moment, resonating together with the voice on the phone. Dwiyon’s hand that was taking notes shuddered.
The polished leather shoes let out hurried footstep sounds as they rushed up the stairs. Dwiyon did not finish his timekeeping as he arrived at the roundabout at the middle of the stairs, leaving behind the maids who were shocked as they moved aside, climbed up the second level, and carried his forward momentum into the office within.
Dwiyon did not have time to even breath at the door like usual as he knocked on the wooden door. “Excuse me!” he did not wait for the reply as he opened the door. The office was linked to the study, and inside this office, the first secretary, who was facing the master of the household turned around with a doubtful look on his face.
“What is it, Dwiyon? Why are you panicking?”
The first secretary was the son-in-law of the master in this household. Normally, Dwiyon would not forget to greet him, but this was not the time to do this. he took out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his sweat, and spoke,
“Sir, the military gave us an emergency call saying that young master Riddhe…”
Dwiyon could not explain this earth-shattering situation with only a single line. The first secretary widened his mouth and blinked as he face this old butler, who swallowed the words he was about to continue with as his shoulders went up and down together with his panting. With his back facing the window, the owner of this house was sitting at the office table, his hands on the table tensing up as he looked back at Dwiyon’s face.
“What is it about Riddhe?”
Ronan Marcenas merely said this. The tea-colored eyes bore backlight as his face naturally overlapped with the master’s son who had not returned home for many years—Riddhe Marcenas. This time, Dwiyon really could not say anything.
“A new mission…?”
After all that? Alberto swallowed the voice that was about rise out from his throat as he gave a doubtful look back at the monitor in front of him again. Martha Vist Carbine’s eyes suddenly narrowed (Any questions?) as her icy cold voice echoed through the second communication room of the “Nahel Argama”.
“No, it’s not that there’re any problems…but the “Nahel Argama” is rather worn out after some battles. I’m wondering if we can get some other squads here as well—”
(I just want them to investigate the space region coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program’s information. You will be heading through that place when you return to “Luna II” anyway, so there would not be much additional work for you, am I right?)
Martha said nonchalantly as she used her long fingers to pick up the fluff on her shoulders. Alberto looked like he was rendered silent by that finger as he went silent.
(We owe the Senate Council a favor for what happened at “Palau”. The “Unicorn” can’t be delivered to the Moon in that case, so we should at least let them help out in some ways. And according to the feedback from the technicians here, it seems that it’s very difficult to remove the pilot’s biological identification register.)
The “Unicorn” was reclaimed after maintenance, and they found data from the machine that seemed to indicate the coordinates of the “Box”. It was just yesterday that Martha heard of how things developed in this communication room. Because of this, Martha’s plan was to make use of the “Unicorn” when it was still useful, let the military investigate the coordinated space and keep all findings to themselves, so she most probably left some avenues out there. Of course, if she could find the “Box” there, she would have most likely planned a way for the Foundation to strike first.
In terms of political sense, this thinking was definitely valid since the Vist Foundation could not keep the “Unicorn Gundam” itself. The indicated coordinates was definitely on the return path to “Luna II”, and when considering the uniqueness of the location, there was very little chance of Neo Zeon attacking them. This definitely was a mission the “Nahel Argama” could still do as it struggled to survive, but the premise was that this plan was to be viewed this way by outsiders. As someone directly involved in this, Alberto could not agree with this, and his stare landed on the floor of the dim communication room.
After nearly dying a few times, the crew was finally on the path back to the docks, so how much would they be looking forward to landing? The tough battle of “Palau” ended 2 days ago, and Alberto and the crew passed through moments of pain and exhilaration. It would be really cruel to push the mission to them and delay their arrival back at the docks…
(You look like you went through life and death with them and developed emotions with them.)
He looked away for several seconds, and Martha read his thoughts as she spoke up. Alberto felt his heart being grabbed as he looked at the face on the monitor.
(This isn’t like you at all. You’re probably tired. When you arrive back on Earth, rest well for a while.)
“Me, to Earth…?”
To Alberto, who was mentally prepared that he would be observed to investigate the situation, these were unexpected words. Martha curled her lips that were covered with lipstick to the side slightly and continued, “I got a launcher shuttle from the Foundation.)
(I want you to take that Cyber-Newtype to Augusta on North America.)
“Augusta? Don’t tell me—”
(Right, it’s that Augusta. The Newtype research facilities are already sealed off, but I heard that the facilities for readjustments are still there.)
Alberto felt a chill up his spine. The Augusta Research Institute was one of the largest Newtype research facilities together with the Murasame Research Lab. However, this Newtype Research was only in name, as they once worked together with the military to develop human weapons. He would be bringing the female pilot of the “Sleeves” to the human research plant which would dissect war orphans—
“What are you planning to do?”
(If the commotion continues like this, our options of dealing with the media will be extremely limited. The Senate Council seems like it wants to keep its distance from the Foundaiton, so we have to hurry up and reassemble the UC plan Cardeas wrecked to appease the army. We’ll also use this chance to calm those guys trying to get the “Box”, so we definitely must make good of this.)
“Complete the UC project…the second unit?”
Alberto could not make any other guesses. There was another RX-0 being moved to Earth, being experimented on under gravity conditions. They had to hurry up, complete it, and use this to show the military superiority of the Vist Foundation and Anaheim Electronics. The fact was that there was a collusion between the UC plan contractors and the inner government council trying to take back the “Box”, so the proceeding of the plan would allow them to hold this collusion off. If they could control the situation well, they could probably return the “Box” back to its original owner.
(This UC plan views the reassembly of the space forces as a cover up to eradicate Zeon completely…it sounds like a fantasy the conservatives’ brains would think of at a moment of inspiration, but there is a high chance that it might be affected greatly due to the dissolvement of the Principality of Zeon. The Foundation and Anaheim must have the “Box” in order to weather this storm, and I can’t stand someone opening the “Box” due to a man’s romance like what Cardeas did.)
It was rare to see Martha show her emotions when she talked as she put her hand on her wavy hair. She obviously looked anxious, and Alberto cringed as he looked away from the monitor, but Martha was right to say this, and he said this to convince himself. Cardeas is the culprit behind everything who plotted with the overload and reached his hand on a 100 year taboo. He left his real successor aside and left the “Box”s key to the kid he had from his mistress. There’s no reason that this kind of person is to bear the Foundation’s future, so I—
(I wouldn’t have to use this move if grandfather could simply tell me where the “Box” is. Well, we can be considered lucky to get a Cyber-Newtype. Make sure all preparations are done when transporting her.)
At that moment, Martha erased all her emotions as she put on the usual iron-mask face. Alberto could not digest anything as he looked up and answered, “Yes.”
“But I don’t know if the Captain and the rest will believe me or not…”
(Most of those were killed in action by that Cyber-Newtype’s mobile suit, right? Just say that you considered the crew’s feelings and that there are unspeakable things. Besides, the Senate Council will be sending them a message to.)
It’s not that kind of problem, but that some people who can only carry out top down orders can’t take back the “Unicorn”. The feelings Alberto once hid showed themselves on the face again, and he turned his eyes towards the monitor again. (I’ll meet up with you too.) Martha remained unmoved as her lips formed a smile.
“You’re coming too…?”
(The Moon’s gravity is good for beauty, but it’s bad for the body and mind. I’ll head over to the Caribbean once I’m done with work. The weather’s fine now anyway.)
It was a radiant smile. It never changed at all, just like how it was when his childish eyes looked up at her many years ago—no, it was a ‘woman’s smile, one more beautiful than before over time. This woman understood everything, from the feelings of the “Nahel Argama” crew to the psychology required to talk to them at the right moments, and she was manipulating others like chess pieces on a board. Even though she understood, she did not pull forcefully, but set a direction for people to follow, and this was an attribute of a leader…is that so? a sudden chill suddenly blew by Alberto’s heart as he lowered his silent face.
Where do I intend to go after this? Do I have no way back? Alberto looked at the hand that could not shake off the feeling when he squeezed the trigger as he thought, (Oh yes.) Martha seemed to recall something she forgot as she called out.
(That man who used to be Cardeas’ secretary, he’s called Gael, right? It seems that he’s missing.)
Alberto was prompted by the beating in his heart as he looked up.
(There are signs that he used some trade routes Anaheim has to interact with the “Sleeves”. Perhaps he’s trying to take revenge for his dead master.)
Martha’s lips showed a smirk, and she looked like a demon that was looking down at the soul in her hand.
(It is true that the kind of master would determine the kind of subordinate…be careful. Both you and I are on a path of no return.)
Martha used these words to lay a curse. The soul was restrained in the hand, and Martha stared at Alberto while giving him a look not to be complacent. Alberto felt the detesting feeling that was budding in him collapse completely as he softly answered, “Yes…” and cut the communication link with “Von Braun” on the moon.
The satisfied look Martha gave as she narrowed her eyes disappeared, and the thicker darkness that filled the communication room surrounded him. Alberto felt a chill as he suspected that someone was hiding within. Is it that man who bore Cardeas’ grudge? Is he someone who intend to bare his fangs on my neck in this darkness— Alberto left the console, unlocked the door and arrived on the corridor outside. He ignored the stares of his subordinates standing outside the door as he grabbed the lift grip leading to the bridge.
Alberto tidied his tie and took in the air filled with paint fumes into his cold lungs. He was slowly getting used to the air in the bridge, but it could not be helped. No one here would speak up for him, and no one would help him. The only place of solace he had was the clutches of the demon that was looking at the world from the Moon, the only moment where he could relax. Alberto became an associate of Anaheim Electronics everyone hated as he went to the bridge. The darkness that followed him showed no signs of fading, and he felt the temperature rising up his body that was moving in zero gravity.
The thick green machine looked like it was scrapped as it sat on the floor, unable to be stored on the hangars that were available, and to those who were already used to seeing the eyes of the Federation units, this scene caused pure surprise. The 4 moveable binders were hanging from the shoulders, and if any one of them was taken away, the volume would be equivalent to that of an ordinary mobile suit. The only term that could describe this humanoid-shaped machine that could move the binders on its own freely and display exceeding mobility would be ‘Heavyweight’.
“The NZ-666 “Kshatriya”. From the model number itself, we can determine that this is an original mobile suit created by Neo Zeon. They did install a Psycoframe around the cockpit, but it’s an old model. They probably used the test materials provided from Anaheim during “Char’s Counterattack”.”
Aaron Terzieff put his hands on the twisted cockpit hatch as he looked inside the cockpit, saying this. He was someone related to the UC plan detained from “Industrial 7”, and he was an important witness under ECOAS’ management at this point, but there was no better choice than him to analyze the unknown Psycommu machine that was detained on the ship. Otto Mitas used his Captain’s authority to borrow Aaron for the time being as he stood on the catwalk built at the side of the mechanic deck, staring at the “Kshatriya”—the 4-winged that belonged to the “Sleeves” and took down lots of ships and units—and observing it.
There was also the Romeo 010 “ReZEL” on this mechanic deck that could be considered a ship’s factory, and the other crew members were exchanging its missing arm. In contrast , the “Kshatriya” did have its limbs intact, but the total damage was worse than the Romeo 010. The sub-arms that were hidden inside the binders were melted from the back, and the conducting fluids continued to leak out from several parts of the machine at this point. The front end of the sleeve that melted and solidified lost the right hand it should have. The armor that had many curves was dented severely because of the heat and the impact, reminiscent of a thoroughly abused human. That “Gundam” did all that? Otto swallowed as he recalled the white mobile suit that was undergoing repairs on the mobile suit deck and asked the person beside him, “You once said that only “Granada” on the Moon has Psycommu production facilities, right?” Aaron lifted his head that was originally poking inside the cockpit hatch, and answered,
“Yes. The “Unicorn”s Psycoframe was also developed by the Anaheim factory on “Granada”. As it was announced that this technology was terminated, we did everything there considering the secrecy of the work.”
“Why was it suddenly stopped?”
“I heard that it was because it ventured into too many unknown territories. Besides, it is made by man, and the electronics system can be explained through system reasoning. However, let’s take for example the moment the “Unicorn” activates its NT-D system. It looks like the psycoframe revealed from under is glowing, right? Even we, the manufacturers, have no idea why it’s glowing either.”
The ECOAS member who was supervising Aaron from behind showed a surprised expression too. “You don’t know either?”
“The psycommu receives the psycowaves from the pilot and amplifies it—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, resonate. What we can be certain is that the psyco chips, each the size of a metal particle and molded into the frame, would react to it, but we just have no idea why it’s glowing. The glow pattern would also vary according to the person riding on it. Anyway, this seems like it’s a phenomenon that happens when the psycowaves overloads the system, but the electric voltage of the psycommu would not increase because of this, and we have no idea what’s the relationship between the psycowave level and the glow patterns. The key itself is still human thought waves, and this thing called consciousness itself can’t be analyzed through data alone.
“If that psyco chip is the size of a particle, won’t it glow when it reacts with the psycowaves and vibrate?”
“Stop joking here. If that were the case, we wouldn’t have used it on the movable frame at all. It’s nonsense to have a weapon that’s glowing and tells the enemy your location here.”
Aaron said with a rather angry tone, and Otto could only shut his mouth of an amateur.
“The overloaded electricity would cause the electric cords to become red, right? It seems that the theory behind it is the same, but it’s not just giving off heat. It looks like it’s giving off light, and its light properties can be recorded, but this light isn’t just emitted through electric output. I hate to say this as a technician, but this is an unknown light. And also, it can be become a source of physical energy…”
At that moment, Aaron’s words stopped unnaturally as he looked away to an unspecified area. “Source of energy?” Otto, who glanced over to ask back, looked at the expression the supervising ECOAS member was giving, “Have you seen the “Unicorn”s battle records?” and rounded off.
“Yeah…”
“I didn’t see it myself, but I can roughly guess how it went from the damage this thing suffered. It was probably an overwhelmingly one-sided battle, right? Even if the assistance of the NT-D, the power it showed was abnormal. This is far different from the specifications we originally envisioned. It’s making us scared for no reason.”
Aaron looked at the half-trashed “Kshatriya” and frowned at it in a psychotic manner. His expression erased any plans Otto had of trying to change the topic. It was really an abnormal battle. What kind of expression will Aaron show if he learns that the pilot of the “Unicorn” is a student who’s still a novice at this? Otto could not give a wry smile at this even though he wanted to, and his lowered stare turned around because of another voice that called him from behind “Captain.”
“There’s contact from the infirmary. The prisoner’s awake now.”
Liam Borrinea grabbed onto the handrail to negate the inertia, let her feet land on the floor, and handed the clinical records to Otto. Otto looked back at the meaningful stare his vice-officer was giving, turned his back on Aaron, who continued to inspect the machine, and looked down at the clinical records.
“Leaving aside her external wounds, it seems that she’s rather frail now. I don’t think she’s in a state to last through an interrogation.”
“…What’s with all the scalds and scars written on this?”
There were records of numerous scars and burns on the human diagnostics outline drawn on the clinical records. The attached photos graphically showed old scars on the thighs and the cleavage. It was impossible to imagine those as injuries incurred from riding a mobile suit. Liam looked aside, “Many perverts probably used her so some toy.” and said with disgust.
“According to doctor Hassan, her female functions are already wrecked.”
This really caused Otto to be silent. Liam did not look at Otto, who inadvertently looked up, as she glared at the floor with a furious expression.
“I heard that a Newtype squad full of clones was sent into battle at the end of the First Neo Zeon war. They should have been wiped out already—”
“So there was someone who survived, but ended up like this, huh…”
“Maybe she got picked up by some savage human trader. It’s said that when Cyber-Newtypes lose the people giving them instructions, they will become puppets with broken strings. Most likely, she didn’t even know anything when…”
Liam grabbed onto the handrail and swallowed the words she was about to say next. She showed the pain and unhappiness only a woman would understand, and her wide shoulders looked rather bewitching to Otto at this point. He did not know how old Marida Cruz, the pilot of this “Kshatriya” was at this point, but from her looks, it was impossible that she would be above 20. In that case, she would be around 10 when she took part in the First Neo Zeon war—it would be too serious to describe her as simply a war casualty, a term that could be thrown randomly. He closed the clinical records and sighed out from within.
“This technology has no responsibility over the outcome, but it’s like it was born to destroy humanity according to demands and interests. I really can’t deny that this is a vice of humanity. There’s no saving us here.”
Liam muttered, and Aaron could be seen investigating the “Kshatriya” right in front of her. The technician forgot about the terrifying words he said a minute ago that came out of nowhere, and only cared about tinkering with the toy he got. His engrossed expression caused Otto to sigh just when he thought he went out of breath. “Leave the questioning of the prisoner to the Senate Council”, he said as he returned the clinical records to Liam.
“We do want information on the “Sleeves”, but we won’t be able to think of anything in our tired states. Let’s just return back to the port at “Luna II” first.”
It had been 40 hours since they left the shoal space region in L1. On estimate, the “Nahel Argama” seemed like it was already halfway through the return path back to “Luna II” as it gradually approached the Earth’s geostationary orbit. At this point, the Neo Zeon fleet would have no reason to pursue them. “I understand.” Liam’s voice in her reply indicated that she felt a little better.
“No matter what, they can’t possibly ask us to detour off to another place…”
Otto was half-joking, but suddenly noticed Liam’s face tensing up, and he turned over to where his eyes at where she was looking at.
Looking far away, he could tell that it was Alberto’s round pudgy body kicking off the handrail from the other side, floating over to this mechanic deck. His face was pale for some reason, and he looked timid when he met Otto and the rest in the eyes, but changed his expression as he made a mysterious smile.
“I hope not…”
I have a bad feeling about this. Otto and Liam could not help but hold onto the handrail in unison, bracing themselves for the God of Plague that was about to arrive.
“…I don’t feel that there’s a need for that.”
“We can’t be certain here, right? She’s a Cyber-Newtype!”
It was unknown who was talking. Banagher opened his eyes and looked up at the fluorescent plate on the ceiling, the one with a metal net to prevent breaking inside the infirmary, just like the moment when he first woke up on the “Nahel Argama” for the first time—
“Besides, her muscles were enhanced too. Won’t she try to resist with all she has once the drugs wear off? We should restrain her before that happens.”
“Only those who were modified later on would be like that. She’s of the congenital genetic design type, so there’s no need to administer drugs that would suppress such reactions.
It was the voices of Ensign Mihiro Oiwakken and Doctor Hassan—and Banagher could tell who they were talking about. His mind that just awoke from sleep started working, and he continued to lie on the bed as he turned around. “But…!” Mihiro’s insecure voice rang in Banagher’s ears, through the accordion curtain that was draped down from the ceiling.
“She looks stable emotionally, and more importantly, her wounds aren’t healed. I can’t allow such a patient wear a straitjacket in this condition.”
“She’s a Cyber-Newtype from Neo Zeon! She might suddenly attack when you aren’t noticing, doctor—”
“Miss Marida definitely won’t do that.”
Before he realized it, Banagher spoke up. He supported his limp upper body as he pulled the curtain aside.
Hassan, who was seated in front of the treatment table, and Mihiro, who was standing beside him, both looked over at Banagher, “Banagher…!” Mihiro spoke up as she widened her eyes, and those eyes were immediately covered with a tint of malice. “He’s here too?” the sharp questioning voice caused an awkward mood to spread through the infirmary.
“He’s considered to be recovering from an illness. I gave him a drip to let him rest after treatment…how do you feel?”
Hassan’s voice had a intent to calm the atmosphere, but Banagher did not listen properly. He continued to stare at Mihiro’s stiff expression and muttered, “You want to make an injured person wear a straitjacket…” but Mihiro responded with a highly agitated voice, “This isn’t something you should be interrupting at all?”
“Why is this? Miss Marida is an officer here. Don’t you have a specific set of rules for dealing with prisoners?”
“The “Sleeves” are terrorists. No matter whether she’s an officer or not, she’s still a criminal.”
“But Miss Marida…”
“Were you brainwashed on “Palau” too? She’s the pilot of that 4-winged, and the culprit that destroyed your colony. Who knows how many of our comrades were killed by her—”
“Even if that’s true…! But there’s nothing to talk about when you keep stereotypes like this, right? This isn’t like you at all, Miss Mihiro.”
Mihiro turned aside her face as she was at a loss of words, and went silent, “…I’ll send a guard to stand by her. Tell me first if you want to move her from the infirmary. She told Hassan and hurriedly left the infirmary. “Understood.” Hassan answered lazily as he waited for her to disappear behind the door before looking over at Banagher . “Do forgive her here.” He said as he immediately turned his chair to the treatment table. Banagher’s mystified stare was right at his white back.
“Ensign Riddhe did not return. She does have her emotions after all.”
Ah. Banagher felt that the voice released from his chest was stuck in his throat, and he felt difficulty in breathing. None of the crew on this ship, whether it was Mihiro or Hassan, knew the truth here— the uneasy feeling suddenly rose up in him as he reached for the bottle on the side-table. He took a warm sip of water, swallowed it together with his guilty thoughts, and used his hands to touch head that fell asleep from who knew when.
Marida was in the Intensive Care Unit, while the other patients were inside the sick bay, so he and Hassan were the only ones here. Banagher saw the CT scan installation on the wall, and did not understand as he felt a chill, saying in an inquiring manner, “Is this the scan you mentioned about before?” Hassan turned his head slightly, “Huh?”
“You checked whether I was a Cyber-Newtype too, didn’t you?”
“Looking at the facilities here, the results are clear.” Hassan’s words when he first woke up in this infirmary became a source of anxiety, and it continued to ring in Banagher’s ears. Hassan scratched his head in an awkward manner as he turned his head to the table and answered, “Well, I really felt like investigating when you suddenly came out of the “Gundam” like that.”
“Is Miss Marida really just like what she said? What is a Cyber-Newtype?”
“That’s a fantasy those crazy scientists have. They want to use artificial means to create Newtypes, but in fact, they only created human weapons for war.”
Banagher’s mind recalled the face of the blue-eyed girl on the glass window of the capsule. There was no clear sense of realism, and he tried to dig deeper into this other person’s memory that would fade off like an echo—his clenched fists trembled slightly, and he let out a voice, “How can they do such things?”
“What exactly are Newtypes?”
Hassan turned his table and looked at Banagher, “You do understand the theory behind it, right?” and spoke with a heavy voice. “Of course…” Banagher felt his momentum wear out somewhat as he answered.
“It’s mainly talking about how humans who come to space will evolve, about how the perception will become stronger, and that humans can talk to each other without misunderstandings.”
“That’s right. Using your body as example, the damage you sustained from the G-force this time has become less compared to the time when I checked on you before. Even with the protection of the pilot suit, this kind of recovery speed is still shocking. Do you know what it means?”
“No…”
“Your body is starting to get used to the “Gundam”. You only rode on it 2, 3 times however.”
These were unexpected words. Banagher’s mouth was wide open in shock, but Hassan left it aside as he continued, “Humans have an ability to adapt to its surroundings.”
“The data showed that when the Plague started spreading through the Old Ages, the death rates declined just 50 years later. There was no need for the replacement of generations to take place, so this would probably be the results of the human body acquiring immunity under tough environments. In other words, Life would often find the most suitable way to live and adapt. Humans came to space, and expanded its understanding to make up for their knowledge of the vast space. Theoretically, this is possible, and I personally feel that this isn’t impossible.”
Hassan leaned on the back of his chair and said with an expression that looked like it had seen the space behind the wall. The senses or understanding abilities will expand to make up for the recognition of the wide living space. If that’s the case, it makes sense Banagher felt thought, and hoped that it was the case. Misunderstandings and differing views will disappear, and hearts that can connect to each other can embrace each other and understand each other well. If that moment was a connection between Newtypes—
“…If all of humanity became like that, there probably won’t be any wars anymore.”
“That may be the case. Or the mass-killings may end up worse than now.”
“Why?”
“Think about it. Everything you’re thinking will reach the other parties. Those adults who treat lies as lubricants over things will definitely be running away in fear. Besides, there will be a new divide between Newtypes and Oldtypes.”
“Divide…”
“Also, Newtypes are said to be born in shape. How can the Earth residents who have steady lives endure this after having sent the remaining population over to space? It’s like the master role’s reversed here.”
“In that case, let’s just send everyone into space and make them evolve in one go.”
Banagher knew that he was saying childish things, but he still said it out. He could not express the feelings he had at that moment in words to Hassan and Mihiro. This anxiety caused his emotions to be twisted, and could possibly cause uneasiness in others. If the end result was that the war no one hoped for would occur, humanity would be a lost cause. As long as Newtypes definitely existed, they should try for a possibility where the whole of humanity could evolve even if many forceful means were required.
Hassan put the pen he was playing with in his hand onto the table, and silently continued, “In the past, a man once said this.”
“The reason why humans won’t stop fighting is because humans are stepping onto the entrance to evolution. If there were really a possibility to turn into Newtypes, we should let the scientists experiment on the Cyber-Newtypes. If we left human evolution to nature, humanity will kill itself off in the end.”
Banagher felt like he was told what his suggestion would bring, and the hot air within his stomach cool off as he lowered his head.
“He does have his own reasons for saying that, but…”
“I feel that the way he looks at things is too sad. That kind of possibility…”
Possibility—the god that is created within people’s hearts by believing. Banagher did not wish that it was something that could be obtained by ripping people’s heads or mindsets. This would only end up putting possibilities within a mold and suffocate as a result. “I feel the same”. Hassan said as he smiled.
“So even if it’s inconvenient, we should use this current power we have to try our best to understand each other. It’s not about fighting over which side is to succumb to another, but to find a point of compromise both sides can agree on. However…the road sure is tough.”
Hassan said with a sigh as he looked over at the door Mihiro walked out. Even someone of his age could not solve any conflict beside him. Banagher stared at the side of Hassan’s face, and though he felt that Hassan was someone who could have the same thoughts as him, he could not tell the truth about Riddhe and the rest. Banagher felt a dangerous feeling seep inside his bones as he looked down at the icy cold floor.
The plaster that was stuck on the face hurt. The fragments of the broken helmet visor did not pierce the face, but it still left multiple scraps on the white skin. This was the result of the body being forced out from the linear seat and the normal suit and bouncing around inside the cockpit.
Also, there were signs of bleeding all over the body, and it was said that there were a few broken ribs. Banagher saw that the body that was covered by the blanket was not moving as he looked over at the person with her left hand under a drip in low gravity, noticed the injuries from the collisions, and looked behind.
Banagher heard the sound from the electrocardiogram and turned around. As expected, I shouldn’t be here. She may have recovered, but honestly, what do I intend to say? It’s completely ridiculous that the person who caused her to be injured comes over to be concerned about her wounds. I don’t even have the power to save her— Banagher turned behind to look, saw the long eyebrows that were sealed up, and immediately looked down as he stood in front of the ICU door. “The roles have reversed.” At that moment, the voice came from behind, and Banagher, who was about to reach for the door, had his hand frozen.
Marida Cruz was lying on the bed, and her blue eyes were staring at Banagher. “Miss Marida…” the voice that wanted to say this was stuck in the throat as he could only look back at her eyes.
Is she laughing at herself for being so injured and how she got captured…no, those are eyes that had already made their realizations, relaxed and serene. Banagher felt his chest tightening and his vision become wet as he approached her at the bed. The vital signs indicator awaited, and under it, Marida gave a light smile as she said, “Don’t just look at me.” as she turned her bloodshot eyes to the ceiling.
“…I have no idea why it ended up like that either.”
These words naturally popped out, and Banagher’s lips were trembling. Marida turned her neck slightly, and her chestnut-color hair that was tied in a knot on the right shoulder shook slightly.
“I felt like I wasn’t myself at that time…no, it’s like something that was suppressed was lit up, exploding all the time. I know the person in front of me is you, Miss Marida, but…”
“You were swallowed by the machine.”
Marida said calmly as she interrupted the words that were to no avail. Banagher looked up and looked at her.
“It’s the result of the reverse flow in the Psycommu. You thought you were piloting it, but unknowingly, you we being controlled by it. The system forced you to do this.”
“The system…?”
“I felt a strong denying consciousness within. Most likely, it’s the capabilities that were hidden insidethat “Gundam”s system. That system will search out Newtypes and destroy them, even if it finds that they’re Cyber-Newtypes…”
At this point, Marida’s face winced suddenly, and the pain that she suppressed was seeping out through the gaps between her teeth. Banagher saw her raise her right arm slightly, and took the jug on the side table to her face. Marida took the bottle to her lips, took a small sip, and took a slight breath. She then spoke with a hoarse voice, “A machine can’t determine the difference between a real one and a created one.”
“But humans are different. Humans can sense after all.”
The pale fingers covered Banagher’s hand together with the bottle, and Marida’s gentle smile spread on her dry lips. Just like this. Banagher felt her blue eyes saying this to him as he put his other hand on Marida’s right hand. Banagher put his fingers on the cold and saddening fingertips and looked at the eyes that seemed that they would lose focus if he relaxed for just a moment. He was trying to keep an irreplaceable life here.
“Miss Marida, did you…?”
“I saw your inner heart.”
His heart pumped wildly for no reason, and the strength disappeared from his trembling hand. Marida pulled her right hand slightly, and her face that was not smiling anymore looked away from Banagher.
“Perhaps you’re the same kind as me.”
“…What does that mean?”
Marida turned her stare that only exchanged glances with him for an instant back to the ceiling and said, “If that’s not the case, I won’t have any position to say this.” Banagher could not accept the meaning of these words as what she wanted, and glanced down at the pair of blue eyes that were averting unnaturally.
“But…the “Gundam” stopped at the last moment. Your will caused the system to succumb. I think it’s the core inside your heart that allowed you to do that.”
“Core…?”
“As for us, we don’t have that.”
Marida continued silently as she let her clear eyes look up at the ceiling. “That’s why my sisters and I could become one with the machine. We’re not related to natural birth, just existences floating around randomly…”
The hands that were extended outside the blanket weakly suddenly tugged at it. This was the silence someone who saw her end had, and a hollow presence that seemed to pass through space came from within her body. “Miss Marida…” Banagher’s musing voice was trembling.
“Don’t mind me, Banagher. No matter what realities you have to face directly in the future, don’t lose yourself. You have to keep saying ‘even so’.”
Banagher felt like he was just given a slap on the face as he retreated slightly. Marida’s eyes gave a strong glow that allowed neither pity nor respect to approach her as she looked right at him.
“That’s your core…there’s another system sleeping inside that “Gundam”, and your core will become the power to awaken it. The one who left the “Laplace Box” to it…”
The voice and stare that came from deep within her said this, only to be interrupted by a painful moan. The vital signs alarm went off, and Marida got up and winced in pain. “Miss Marida…!” he tried to hold her hand as he called out, but was pushed onto the floor by her. The drip stand was knocked down, CLANG, and a noise echoed through the room loudly.
That’s enough. It felt like someone said this. Don’t waver because of me— Banagher did not have time to think of the words resonating in Marida’s expression as Hassan came rushing in from the infirmary next down. He held down Marida’s body that got up and roared at the door “GET THE CARDIOTONI! THE DIGOXIN WILL DO!”, and the nursing soldier frantically rushed in as he got ready to inject. Banagher retreated from the wall, and through Hassan’s back, he saw Marida’s limp limbs. As Hassan held her down, pulled aside the blanket and opened the pajamas, the nursing soldier’s needle approached the bare cleavage. “Her muscles are enhanced. Injecting the needle in normally won’t work. You have to raise it and stab it in.” Hassan said, and the pale nursing soldier nodded before raising the syringe over his head with both hands.
A tiny silver light could be seen reflected from the needle due to the headlamp. Banagher closed his eyes right before the needle was stabbed in, turned his face, closed his ears, and left the ICU just like that. You can’t do anything. You’ll just hurt her. Banagher was pressured by the surging voice within his heart, and despite tumbling a few times, he still managed to move from the infirmary to the corridor.
“Oi, what’s with you?” Banagher pretended not to hear the pursuing guard’s voice as he ran in the gravity block, the path becoming a gradual one. What system, what core? I’m just standing right where I am. The fact that I tried to kill Marida before will never change. I was manipulated by the “Unicorn Gundam” system—what the heck is that? The “Laplace Box”, Vist Foundation, dad’s voice hidden inside my memories…I don’t want to care about them anymore.
I don’t want to ride on the “Unicorn Gundam” again. This thought came out from countless words in his mind, and he stopped in his tracks. He put his hand on the wall, calmed his frantic breathing, and clenched the hand that once sucked up Cardeas’ blood. Aren’t these all things that couldn’t be helped? I could only do that at that time. As Banagher suppressed the bitterness in his heart and answer the face in his memory, a certain familiar round object appeared from the ends of his sight.
That object which was the size of a basketball rolled on the low-gravity wall and circled around Banagher’s legs. (You don’t look well, Banagher.) Haro let out this synthesized voice, and Banagher looked around the corridor.There’s no reason why Haro would appear on its own, and as expected, familiar faces appeared from behind the cross-junction, waving at him.
Come along with us. Takuya Irei looked around, and mouthed; Micott Bartsch could be seen fthere as well. Banagher did meet them a few times after arriving back from “Palau”, but he never had the chance to talk with them properly. He too looked around his surroundings, and then turned his stare back at his friends’ faces that felt abnormally far away. He kicked the floor to make up for this distance.
Takuya prompted Micott, who would not look at Banagher in the eyes, and went off to the lift. At this moment, a crew with a Nautical Branch emblem passed by the trio, but it seemed that he was already used to seeing civilians move around the ship. Banagher turned his back on the crew member who did not look back at him as he followed behind Takuya. In his arms, Haro flapped its ears, and this familiar voice caused Banagher to feel really happy.
“…It’s tough to see Ensign Mihiro so depressed like that, isn’t it? She’ll definitely recover if you just tell her that Mr Riddhe’s still alive.”
The extremely hard and large plastic window reflected Takuya’s face as he sighed. The numerous lights of the stars scattered outside the window were blocked by the reflected light within the room, and the stars could not be seen clearly. Banagher recalled Mihiro’s stiff face as she walked out of the infirmary, and muttered, “So that’s the kind of relationship they have…” and his muttering face was reflected on the window as well, resulting in a depressed expression appearing in the eternal darkness of space.
There was no one in the observation room located on the boardside of the battleship. There were three windows on both sides of the room, 5m long and probably 3m wide, creating a wide space that was hard to imagine that it was inside a battleship. The security on Takuya and the rest inside the ship had become a lot more lenient, and Takuya used this time to understand the structure of the ship during these past few days. Before he called Banagher over, it seemed that he had other places to think of as well. Also, as Takuya grasped the positions of the surveillance cameras, he said that they had to look at the windows when talking, and not look back inside the room. If the cameras caught them, someone could tell what they were talking about by the movements of their lips.
Banagher heard all about how Takuya and Micott followed Riddhe’s plan, endured a nerve-wrecking escape process and got here. However, he himself had nothing he could briefly tell them about as he could only stare listlessly at Haro floating in the zero gravity. Takuya used his foot to hook onto the handrail, remained in a floating position upside-down, and said, “I don’t know why especially…”
“It seems that the people on this ship don’t know that Audrey disappeared. Only the 3 of us know about this, so we have to be careful. Right Micott?”
“Yeah…” Micott said on the bench and answered. She met Banagher in the eyes, and immediately lowered her head again. Banagher frowned, and Takuya stood beside him, scratching his hair hard, geez, and showed an anxious expression.
“I’ll get something to drink. Do you two want anything?”
Takuya kicked off the handrail and floated towards the automatic door located at the wall behind. “I’ll go too, Banagher was about to kick the floor too, only to be pushed back by Takuya sternly, “No need.” Just stay where you are. Takuya moved his hand that was placed on his mouth and gave hand signals, telling Banagher to talk to Micott before moving out of the observation room.
What was that? Banagher grumbled and turned to Micott as he was at a loss of options. Micott sat on the bench facing the window, still unwilling to meet Banagher in the eyes. The daughter of a factory supervisor, studying at a private school, the active confident person who was too dazzling for the students at the Institute, was at this point a stark contrast as she looked utterly depressed.
Suddenly, Banagher recalled the soft feeling he felt resting on the back. It caused him to feel awkward, and he felt a suffocating tightness gnawing at his chest, making it hard for him to stay at this place. He rubbed his nose that was not itchy and looked outside. “It’s amazing that you guys managed to escape from a military ship.” He tried to fill this emptiness with his voice, only for her to answer, “You’re the amazing one, Banagher…”. He thought that her stare was meeting his of the reflected window panel, but she immediately lowered her head again and held onto her hands cupping her knees.
“…I’m sorry.”
“Eh?”
“I’m talking about Mineva…Audrey. If I didn’t tip off…”
Banagher had already half-forgotten about this, and his chest was stabbed by Micott’s lost expression as he turned to her, letting out a mumbling voice as he said, “That’s…”
“I’m the one who has to apologize here. I let you and Takuya get involved in this.”
“We’re the ones who wanted to follow along. You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“But…”
“Besides, I might be the one who egged you on.”
It was unknown if Micott felt a little better as she showed a smile on her lips. Banagher blinked in a puzzled manner.
“If you’re that concerned about her, go get her back…I did say that on the rooftop of the mansion, don’t you remember?”
Banagher started to recall the incident that happened a week ago as it felt as distant as a year ago, and felt his tense chest tightening somewhat. “Yeah…” As he muttered, his lips naturally smiled as he turned his bitterly smiling face to the window. “I’m so stupid for saying such things.” Micott said as she stood up and leaned her body towards the window.
“But since you helped her out once, you have to bear responsibility and help her until the end. That girl’s feeling rather down inside despite making a strong look.”
Micott spoke in her usual tone as she finally turned her stare over at him. Despite sounding rather forced, these words of hers did have her flair. “I understand.” Banagher answered and looked at the space outside the window. He felt the concerns in his chest being undone, and the clear lights of the many stars caused his body to feel comfortable and relaxed.
“I wonder if they reached Earth safely.”
“Ensign Riddhe’s accompanying her, so it should be fine.”
He answered Micott, who asked this question softly, and stared at the darkness that was gathered at the window. They were about to enter the geostationary orbit, but Earth, which was located on the bowside, could not be seen. The moon could not be seen, and the lights of the space colonies could not be seen either as only the endless darkness permeated outside.
The distance from Earth to the Moon could not be measured in lightspeed, and even the term ‘wide’ would be considered too small. At this point, the living area for humanity was limited between Earth and the Moon, and even so, that would be very large. If they broke up both Earth and space, it would be difficult view both living environments as the same world, and there would be a divide. Humans were creatures who were originally supposed to be based on land, recognising their distances and spaces. It had been a mere 100 years since humanity started using space as a place to live in.
If people don’t become Newtypes, we won’t be able to make up for this divide. However, can humanity really evolve after only 100 years? Doctor Hassan said that a sudden mutation is possible. If I’m one such case, I can sense Audrey’s existence as she heads to Earth—
“You have an adult expression there.”
Micott, who glanced at Banagher secretly, said this in a muttering-like manner. Banagher did not understand her meaning completely as he looked back at her silently.
“You’re so open-minded now. It feels like it’s not the Banagher I know anymore.”
“Is that so…”
After being told this, Banagher realized that he did not know anything about this person called Riddhe, but unbelievably, he had no sense of insecurity. Through the impression he had when they passed by each other on the ship and when they had their backs facing each other—it seems like he’s someone I can get along with instinctively. If Banagher could believe such a vague feeling, he would feel that he could leave Audrey to him. Basically, she, who had the taboo name of Mineva, was never suited to stay on a Federation army ship in the first place. If Riddhe had a way to break this deadlock, Banagher felt that that it would cause the situation to change.
If I want to believe in people, I have to be prepared. No matter whether I look like an adult now, I never had this thought 10 days ago. Is it because other people’s thoughts resting within me have covered my thoughts? Banagher thought in vain, and with a sharp pain in his body, he recalled Marida’s face. “Banagher…” Micott tapped him on the shoulder, and her voice caused him to recover.
She turned to the door. Takuya was there, holding 3 coffee tubes. There were two tall and husky people behind Takuya, giving stiff looks as they approached Banagher. Banagher met one of them in the eye, and his chest that was feeling relaxed a while ago tensed up again. He got mentally prepared and waited for him to talk.
“Banagher Links, we hope that you’ll come along with us.”
Commander Daguza Mackle said with a knife-sharp unmoving stare. “…What is it?” Banagher responded, but Daguza did not respond to this question as he floated his large body over to him.
Those eyes that looked more artificial than Marida’s showed a cold glow right in front of Banagher’s eyes. Banagher exerted strength on his body that was about to falter in face of the Daguza’s pressure, and took his stare silently.
At that moment, the bright afternoon sun on the South side was starting to darken. “That’s the one.” Ronan Marcenas was prompted by the voice of Vice-admiral Mauri as he looked at the Eastern sky through the window glass.
With their backs facing the messy clouds, three black shadows gradually appeared. They started to get bigger in front of their eyes, showing their plane silhouettes as they started to descend onto the runway below.
Out of the trio, Ronan saw the two machines that were surrounding the centre one. Those are Federation fighter jets called TIN COD 2, I believe. As he thought about that, the machine in the middle suddenly slowed down, and Ronan could not help but put his face close to the window. He saw the machine that was slowing down disintegrate its parts at the next moment, and formed a silhouette that was completely different from before.
The steam that was released in an explosive manner became a thin layer that covered the machine that became a humanoid. That’s the “Delta Plus”—is that the mobile suit my own son ‘deserted’ in? Ronan tidied his tie and stared at the smart-looking unit that had a thick grey color. Ronan was already used to seeing such 20m tall giants before the One Year Year, when the Principality of Zeon army launched the “Zakus” onto Earth, and though it did not make this man who was in his fifties speechless, the instant transformation of the plane into a humanoid was still amazing. The “Delta Plus” burst out the main thrusters on the back as the two TIN Cods IIs passed by from above. It did not descend onto the normal runway, but onto the landing spot for mobile suit training. The flames from jets supporting the large body caused the light to be refracted, and the glass of this command post more than 200m away rattled slightly.
A car ramp, fire trucks, and electric cars with armed guards were mobilized at that time as they rushed to the spot where the mobile suit landed. The “Delta Plus” landed splendidly onto the middle of the circle, the carbon lined spot that was burnt from the thruster flares. The deep rumbling reached the reception room where Ronan was, and the coffee laid out on the table rattled slightly. The humanoid machine put the beam rifle into the back rack before kneeling down. After that, it seemed to cease all actions.
So that boy can pilot such a thing. Ronan imagined his son’s face on the rugged-looking machine, and felt a sense of pride and also a sense of abandonment. “What he does really troubles me.” Ronan looked back the moment he saw that, and noticed Vice-Admiral Mauri, who had all sorts of medals lined on his chest, give a concentrated frown as he looked outside the window.
“He left the battlefield on his own and broke through the Earth defense line on his own…because of the commotion beforehand, the defense line is already prepared to strike back anytime. I really wonder what will happen if we were a step late in our response.”
The Lieutenant Colonel, who was still waiting together just now, had left the room in order to supervise the retrieval. The attending officer who was acting as an aide went out with the commander too, so only Ronan and Vice-Admiral Mauri were left inside this reception room as they faced the runaway. “I understand. Thank you for your grace.” Ronan said with his back facing the other man. It had been 5 hours since Douglas came barging into the office this morning, having spent half a day contacting all related personnel and deployments to cancel all his scheduled appointments; and he could not bring himself to face the Vice-Admiral was giving a look that he did his best like this.
Even so, Mauri’s words were not an exaggeration. The Marcenas’ family name did reach within the army, but there was no reason that it would be so familiar that they would let anyone randomly pilot a suspicious machine and invade Earth like that as and when they wished. It was luck at work that Duty Officer of the Anti-Air forces made the call for confirmation, and it was luck at work when Ronan just so happened to be there, awaiting his slightly late breakfast. If the situation happened during a Parliamentary Session, the contact would definitely bounce around amongst the secretaries, and the “Delta Plus” would most likely be shot down without any confirmation of its identity.
If one had to mention it further, this Vice-Admiral Mauri would definitely be considered lucky too for being in North America at the right time. The “Delta Plus” was once detained in the Kennedy Space Center in Florida, and the reason why it was brought to this Atlanta Naval Air Station was mostly due to the power of Vice-Admiral Mauri, who used his authority as the highest ranked Aide. Mauri was getting ready to enter politics, and he had been spending half the year on Earth, working to expand his relations with people all over the world. In this sense, he would be the lucky one.
In the Senate Council of the Earth Federation, the largest council—the Migration Issues Committee had the initiative in deciding the Space Administration Plan. There were not many chances that he could make the Council Chairperson owe him a favour. I’ll hear out what happened later on.” Mauri, who spoke on, smartly emphasized his authority, and on the other hand, his face was showing surprise about this luck that befell on him.
“But is this really not what you ordered, Chief Senator?”
“Don’t joke around, whether it was the mail before this or this incident, they’re both shocking revelations to me. Of all bad things to get involved in, that incompetent son of mine actually got involved with the “Box”.”
Ronan immediately let out these words to observe the expression on Mauri’s face that was tanned from golfing. Mauri immediately looked and vaguely met Ronan in the eyes through the reflection on the window before answering timidly, “Regarding that, the Senate Council would have mistakes too.” Ronan noticed that expression which relaxed at that moment, determined that he was not suitable for politics, and looked outside the window.
“There aren’t just one or two pets reared by the Vist Foundation and Anaheim within our circle. I suppose since it’s not an actual battle, not all guns will be pointed out…I didn’t know anything until I saw the mail sent to you, Chief Senator, about your son being a crew member of the “Nahel Argama”.”
“It will be easy to deal with if the military can understand the importance of the “Box”. They actually let the Foundation instigate them into letting the “Nahel Argama” attack “Palau” on its own…logically, it is possible to kill off the “Sleeves” if Londo Bell were fully mobilized.”
“What you say may be reasonable, but we have no idea what exactly the “Box” contains. It’s really hard to use more military force than that when we’re not even certain of what it is…”
Mauri lost the smug expression he had before as he spoke with the look of a public official, a general. This man is lucky, Ronan thought. It’s better for him to view this urban legend of how the existence of this “Box” can topple the world as something with very questionable validity here. Ronan reached his hand to stroke his chin that dropped noticeably, tidied the tie that was loose, and argued back without looking, “It seems the “Sleeves” have abandoned “Palau”.”
“Have the Senate Council understood the meaning behind this?”
“Of course. Since Neo Zeon gave up on their base, it seems like they’ll launch an all-out attack while destroying everything. We should thus strengthen our defences—”
“Nope. Full Frontal is a very shrewd man. He won’t give up a base easily if he estimates that he won’t be able to match the Federation in strength.”
“No way. But Neo Zeon’s current fighting strength is less…”
“There’s still the “Box”.”
Ronan concluded and looked right at Mauri. Mauri gulped and gave a doubting look to the other man.
“The mobile suit in this UC plan has the key to opening the “Box”…I did hear that the “Nahel Argama” reclaimed it, but there’s definitely a transmitter installed by the “Sleeves” there. Don’t take random action on that mobile suit; it’ll be better if we can hurry up and send it to “Luna II” fast.”
“Yes, but…”
“The Federation took the initiative, right?” Ronan pursued on while staring at the mumbling Mauri. “The “Sleeves” will also give pursuit. If we let them make contact with the “Box” first…”
“I’ll send the message to headquarters.”
Mauri said quickly and hurriedly scampered out of the reception room. It was already late, but in a certain sense, he would still work hard, and would have the excuse that he did all he could. His instincts in regards to his job were not sharp, but people like him would show terrific reflexes to protect themselves. “That’s good.” Ronan muttered to himself and looked out of the window again. The “Delta Plus” lowered its head right in front of him, and was surrounded by numerous a large number of vehicles, giving off red signal lights as they surrounded the scene furiously.
The car ramp was moved to the side of the giant, and the roof reached the cockpit cover at the abdomen. It seemed that the lights were still refracted due to the leftover heat from the machine, and for safety sake, the guards who were the size of beans raised their rifles and aimed it at the cockpit. The wireless communicator should have connected, but the “Delta Plus” showed no signs of opening. He probably understood that he has no right to grumble even if he was shot to death—no, he probably considered the safety of his passenger.
Ronan could not help but sigh. Most likely, his son was requested by his superior officer to send a mail for aid from the isolated “Nahel Argama”. After he helped carry out procedures to withdraw him, he escaped back onto the battleship, causing chaos, took a fighter unit on his own, went right back at Ronan, and even had a ridiculous passenger with him, the Princess of Zeon.
Even if they manage to block the media, the Dakar residents with sharp eagle-like eyes were not that that easy to deal with. In a few days, the developments would spread amongst the Senators, and it will affect the countermeasures the Congress would make regarding the “Laplace Box”. While he wanted to reveal the intentions of the plotters and deliberately keep himself away from this incident, he still ended up being involved at the core of this incident. Is this the magic of the “Box”? Ronan mused, and his chest started to ache as he clasped the hands behind his back.
Riddhe, you came to the last place you should be at— Ronan felt his chest suffocating as he murmured, and he silently noticed the cockpit cover on the “Delta Plus” abdomen opening. He saw the pilot raise his hands and walk out from the cockpit. It had been 3 years, but he could tell from first glance that the person in the pilot suit was his own son as the son walked down the car ramp before removing his helmet in front of the guards. Ronan felt that his son was looking right at him, and his chest started to ache again.
Riddhe walked down the car ramp as the guards surrounded him with stares of killing intent around him, and walked towards the military electric car. The atmosphere that blew right in his face was thick and hot, and this was the air of the hometown his skin was familiar. He supported Mineva, who had her back straight, but seemed to have difficulty walking onto the electric car, and they were about to be taken to the command post behind the “Delta Plus”.
The body that had forgotten about gravity became lazy and weak, and sweat filled the armpits of the pilot suit. It seemed that Mineva was in the same situation as her body that was wearing the heavy normal suit slumped into the seat of the car deeply. He heard that she once stopped by Earth for a moment, but to the Spacenoids who were born in space, the gravity on Earth was really a struggle to deal with. Due to the restrains of the structure, the centrifuge gravity in the space colonies would be less than 1G by a few digits on the decimals, but it was this slight difference that the bodies felt heavier even though theythought they got used to it.
To Riddhe, this was the first time he experienced real gravity in three years—but he could tell that his body was quickly getting used to it. the wind blew by the wind runway, and the air that had the smell of the surrounding fauna and dirt awoke his cells, gradually washing away the tightrope-like fatigue he had for the past two days. And there was the soothing humidity that covered his skin. The ground and sun of Southern USA created this damp air the space colonies would definitely be unable to recreate. I’m back. This thought suddenly rushed up Riddhe’s mind, and he looked up at the blue sky above his head. The sky that was not blocked by anything and was expanded out endlessly appeared in front of him. At the same time, the helmet on the attachment hanging at the back let out a click.
Riddhe reached his neck and turned behind. He met the guard sitting behind in the eyes, and immediately looked away once he realized the source of the sound. The rifle that twitched slightly hit the helmet, and the guard kept his silent face looking in front. An air of awkwardness was blown by the wind, and the rubber tires’ smell that wore down on the runway irritated Riddhe’s nose.
Perhaps it was because Riddhe brazenly used the name of the Marcenas family that he and Mineva were able to make their way all the way here safely, but they still could not relax at this point. The guards were still pretending to be attentive at this point, but on one look, anyone could tell that they were wary of suspicious people. What reaction will they show if they realized that the one sitting beside them was the descendant of the Zabi family? Well, better wait for the orders and act around it than to think about it mindlessly. Riddhe answered himself, and he held back the urge to turn his head so casually as before. It was pointless to treat others as people on their side. This rigid organization, the army, would show no mercy after parting ways, and since he was already at odds with them, he would have to find a way to settle this. Riddhe felt the heaviness of this realization he just picked up, and silently stared at the command post he was gradually approaching.
It was a plain 4-storeyed building, and connected beside it was a control tower. At the hangar that was connected to the runway, there were mechanic soldiers wearing military uniforms, surrounding the opened machine, and the TIN Cod IIs that were parked were glowing because of the sunlight reflected off the windscreen. None of these scenes or the noises of the engines echoing around were unusual scenes in an Air Base. However, the command post right in front at this point showed an obviously abnormal presence, and it vaguely spread a tense atmosphere through the entire base.
Riddhe exchanged looks with that abnormal presence. The presence had his back facing the limousine parked on the runway, and his blond hair that was started to become thin swayed with the wind as he was looking over here with the anxious base commanders. Riddhe did predict that he would order for him to be moved to Atlanta, but he never expected the presence to welcome him personally. The electric car ferried Riddhe, whose body went stiff inadvertently, and stopped in front of the command post. Riddhe followed the guard who quickly got off, and stepped on the earth he had not stepped on for 3 years.
He controlled his feet that felt like they were about to sink into the ground, and stared at the Vice-Admiral amidst the row of uniforms. He closed his heels together, and the Vice-admiral gave a silent expression as he saluted back. The base commanders too gave empty salutes, not hiding their expressions that showed that they got into trouble as they looked behind Riddhe. Riddhe reached his hand out to stop Mineva from getting off the car, partly intending to block these stares.
The abnormal presence—Ronan Marcenas silently watched Riddhe’s expression. He had already taken a step back from the line of officers, but the fact remained undoubted that he was at the center of a heavy atmosphere. “It’s been a while.” Riddhe walked right at him and as he spoke with a tone like he was talking to his superior. Ronan looked somewhat doubtful as he looked away and stared right behind Riddhe, “Is she the one?” Mineva walked to Riddhe stealthily before he could even nod, and said,
“I’m Mineva Lao Zabi. I’m able to land because of your son’s goodwill.”
The emerald eyes stared right at Ronan without fear, and the surrounding officers too looked like they were overwhelmed by this pressure as they checked themselves again. Riddhe felt a little delight as he saw the Vice-admiral and company close their heels together, and stared at Mineva’s face that was shining under the sunlight. “I’m Ronan Marcenas.” Ronan might had recognized this person as the real one as he reached his right hand out, showing a dull glint in his eyes.
“You must be tired after such a long journey, I suppose? Once the disease prevention checks are done, I’ll immediately invite you to my house. Please proceed here.”
After shaking hands, Ronan looked over at the Vice-Admiral, who looked at the base commanders, who in turn looked at their aides, and stares continued to pass down until the leader of the guards’ squadron. With the leader’s prompting, Mineva started to head towards the command post. Riddhe exchanged looks with her, suppressed his urge to accompany her, and faced Ronan.
I’m not guilty of anything, and I haven’t done anything that stained the family’s name. I’m just fulfilling my duty and responsibility as someone involved—Riddhe repeated the thoughts he had for the past two days as he looked over at the same-colored eyes as his. Riddhe ignored the Vice-Admiral and company, who seemed to detect that this was an awkward mood as they returned back to the command post, and said, “I won’t try to find excuses.”
“No matter what happened, I never intended to ask the family for help. But just this once…”
“You’re just saying excuses all the time. Say anything you want to say later. Hurry up and change your clothes.”
Ronan left behind this voice Riddhe was used to hearing and turned around. Ronan was strict and by the book, and would remained unmoved even when facing his relatives. He would always tell people to explain the conclusions and the responses, and would separate himself from any personal reasons that were involved in the process without mercy. Riddhe faced the back of this father of this, and had some form of sadness melted within him. “Yes!” Riddhe saluted this annoying figure before Ronan could stop and turn his head, and turned away.
What exactly am I hoping for? I still have to argue against this troublesome person after this and ensure Mineva’s safety. Riddhe could not help but feel incensed as he felt like he was betrayed and developed such doubts. He walked towards the entrance of the command post, and the sharp stares on his back immediately disappeared as the sound of the limousine door closed right behind him. At this moment, the “Delta Plus”, which knelt motionless at the runway, looked helpless as it remained alone under the damp atmosphere.
“You’re saying Her Highness Mineva arrived on Earth?”
Angelo Sauper could not help but parrot as he turned his stare onto the paper that recorded the emergency report. “This is a telegram from the Republic”. The attending official from the intelligence department answered as such.
“There was a Federation unit that passed through the Earth defense line with the authority of a Senator. It’s likely that Her Highness was on it at that time.”
“It wasn’t a misdirection? They wanted to move her secretly, but deliberately caused this large commotion…”
If the information came from the Zeon Republic, the source of this transmission should be a Neo Zeon supporter hidden amongst the Federation Senate Council or a lobbyist from the military industry who hoped for ‘tension amidst peace’. It was reliable information, but one would get the feeling that they arranged it deliberately while trying to overblow things. What do they intend to do by choosing to send out this message that has so many holes in it? Angelo stared at the emergency telegram that merely recorded this message as he floated around the bridge of the “Rewloola”. “Why would it?” He turned around on hearing this voice.
“This isn’t fake information released just to lure us out. The Federation does have its privacy as well.”
The tall and large body clad in crimson red uniform said this as he stepped off the floating and sat onto the commander seat that oversaw the bridge, saying, “Captain, where’s the “Nahel Argama” at now?” Captain Hill, who was seated on the Captain’s seat beside him, immediately reached his hand onto the control panel on the armrest the moment he heard that.
“Soon, they’ll enter the satellite geostationary orbit. It’s strange to take this path if they want to head to “Luna II”. They’ll end up moving into the Earth geostationary orbit if they keep this up.
The predicted trajectory of the “Mock Trojan Horse”—“Nahel Argama” was drawn on the navigation monitor located on the hologram screen, and the locations of the “Garencieres”, pursuing it from behind, and the “Rewloola”, hidden amongst the shoal space region, were shown at this point. It had been 2 days since they abandoned “Palau”, and the “Garencieres” had invaded the absolute defense line of Earth as it tried to track down the “Mock Trojan Horse”. This indicated that the enemy was not headed to “Luna II”, but to the geostationary orbit revolving around Earth. “So they’re headed to the designated coordinates?” Frontal mused as the lips under the mask showed a smirk. He then turned towards Angelo, who was still holding onto the emergency telegraph.
“Are you going to launch, Angelo?”
In response to the sudden topic that was raised, an electric jolt passed through Angelo’s body as he let out a reply, “Yes!” Angelo kicked the wall nearby, floated to the communication operator seat, chased away the person on duty and started operating on the control panel. The distance the enemy ship had, the ship’s fighting capabilities, equipment; all these data were summoned onto one monitor, and the simulation to determine whether they could carry out the plan began.
“If we have the SHACKLES boosters on, we’ll reach within 10 hours at this distance. However, the mobile suits will have to move on their own.”
It would take too many resources to direct the fleet scattered within the shoal space region to take action, and there would also be the risk that they would end up fighting the Federation army on a full front scale. it would be simply enough to deem the “Mock Trojan Horse” as a target and let the mobile suit squadron attack it. The problem would be the transportation, but the journey there would be possible if they could install the large capacity SHACKLES propeller Tanks onto the Sub Flight System. Once the operation was over, the reclamation would be left to the “Garencieres”.
The simulation ended in less than 30 seconds, and Angelo concluded, “Alright, launch preparations complete!” He looked over his shoulder and said this to Frontal. Our hearts are linked, as this feeling definitely rose in his heart, “Captain!” Hill interrupted with a chiding tone.
“Since there’s a transmission from the “Garencieres”, we can see the visuals from the psyco marker here. I’m wondering if there’s a need for you to launch.”
“It’s not in my nature to standby. Also, we need an enemy to make the “Unicorn” activate its NT-D.”
The only one that can complete this mission is the “Sinanju” that is equipped with the Psycommu”. There was this meaning behind these words, and Frontal stepped off the commander seat as Hill watched him leave from behind with a half-forsaken look. “Because you’re the one in the position of supreme commander here…” Frontal did not mind this musing and let out a voice that echoed through the bridge.
“If Her Highness Mineva is not on the ship, it doesn’t matter if we sink the “Mock Trojan Horse”. Once we unlock the seal to the Laplace Program, our side will reclaim the “Unicorn Gundam” again.”
This was the voice of his declaration. At that moment, Angelo’s mind immediately thought of the face of prisoner on the “Mock Trojan Horse”, Marida Cruz, but this was not enough to put a dampener to the excitement rising in his chest. “Yes!” He answered and closed his feet before anyone else could.
“We won’t miss this time. The coordinates indicated by that Program is the most appropriate place to unlock the Laplace seal.”
Frontal said as he stared at the coordinates data indicated on the navigation screen, and no one present disagreed. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program—200km away from earth, was in a low-orbit area that could not even be considered space, and it was a location a certain historical relic would pass by every day. There was still a portion of remnants of the Prime Minister’s residence “Laplace” that was crushed 100 year ago floating in low-orbit, become some sort of tourist attraction.
The “Laplace Box” was said to be able to topple the Federation government, and the ghost of “Laplace” continued to float in absolute zero space. Angelo felt that it was stupid to try and link these two together as he thought that it was some bad joke, but gulped his saliva when he felt the chill developing in him. The “La+” coordinates indicated on the screen did not say anything as it let the blood-like crimson red sign continue to flicker.
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