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Kidou Senshi Gundam UC - Volume 8 - Chapter 3

Published at 20th of February 2016 09:08:48 PM


Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

Part 1

“…Did you hear the broadcast in the bridge? All personnel are to head to the mobile suit deck without exception.”

“But you can’t extract the people with drips here, you know!? How am I supposed to deal with them under zero gravity? It’s okay if we’re talking about the guys in the infirmary, but the patients in the ICU can’t move. There’s a clause in the constitution that allows for wounded soldiers to be treated too.”

This familiar voice rang with a stubborn force of anger in her ears. Marida Cruz widened her eyes, and her blurry stare looked around.

She saw the white ceiling of what seemed to be an infirmary. It was not the ceiling of the “Garencieres”, and once she understood this, there was a weak electrical surge flowing through her body, and she turned her heavy head in the direction where the sound came from. There was a hulking male figure outside the curtains surrounding the infirmary bed, wriggling there; it was someone she knew, one of the members of the “Garencieres” crew, Alec, the backup steering pillow. He had a bulky figure, but he was timid, and at this point, he was holding onto a sub machine-gun. She also had an impression on the man in white clothes, whom the gun was being pointed to, but she was not too familiar with him. He was the military doctor in charge of treating her when she was captured and brought aboard the “Nahel Argama”, and she remembered that he was called Hasan…

Suddenly, a headache caused her blurry vision to be interrupted. What’s going on? Wasn’t I brought to Earth? Her body felt heavy, and her mouth still felt a little numb; she felt gravity, but she wondered whether she was on Earth or in space—she closed her eyes, and then opened them again, and looked outside the curtain with a clearer vision this time. “Say something too, Mr. Gael.” Hasan said as he looked past Alec, and stared upon the 3rd figure.

“It was for a short moment, but you did work together with them, right? Even if you want to occupy a ship, there has to be some basic rules here. Isn’t there anyone easier to negotiate with?”

From the gap between the curtains, she could see the side face of a silent man. She looked into the black eyes of the bald man who seemed to be full of vigor, and realized that this was a face she saw before too…as she thought about this, “It’s useless.” A sudden voice caused her eyelids to numb.

“We’ve been on this “Nahel Argama” far longer than the time he spent on the “Garencieres”.”

Zinnerman said as entered her vision, and he looked at the man called Gael. They exchanged sinister looks, and after a moment, Zinnerman looked away. “…It’s useless to hope for terrorists to abide by rules, is it?” Hasan said these words, and Zinnerman turned his firm stare over at him.

“That’s how it is. If we’re not recognized as soldiers, there’s no need for us to follow the rules.”

ZInnerman pulled the handgun from his waist and pointed it at Hasan nonchalantly. The sudden tense atmosphere jolted Marida’s dull body, and her body shuddered as she laid on the bed. Zinnerman however seemed to notice her presence, and shuddered for a moment before looking over at her. “Dr. Hasan.” Gael brought the silence.

“Zinnerman’s serious here. It’s best to listen to him now.”

“But…”

“We can only let them take the men away. They should be able to recognize that we’re bringing along necessary medical equipment.”

Gael again looked at Zinnerman in the eyes, showing an embolism of restrained emotions. “You need to let us check through the stuff.” Zinnerman frowned as he said this, and then lowered his gun pointing at Hasan. The latter glared back, but left unwillingly after being prompted by Gael, “I’ll help out too. Let’s go.” Alec seemed to be relieved, but Gael did not care as he followed Hasan.

“How unfortunate.”

Gael’s burly frame muttered as he passed by Zinnerman, and then disappeared from her vision. Alec too left, and the side of Zinnerman’s face was the only thing left through the gap of the curtains. The black eyes tried to suppress the emotions it just could not do so, and they were twitching on his emotionless face. Master seems to be in pain. Why am I still lying in such a place? Marida bent her back, wanting to bring her upper body up, but the tremendous pain on her flank caused her to grit her teeth in agony, “Mas…ter…” and she eked out the voice in an interrupted manner. Zinnerman walked over to her in large steps, and the bearded face she ostensibly had not seen in a while covered the light panel on the ceiling.

The faded leather jacket gave a little gunpowder smell. The chilly air outside flowed into the bed, causing her to feel a little tense as she laid down it defenseless. “This is…?” She let out a dry voice, and could not exert strength into her limbs freely. Zinnerman placed his hand on her forehead, “Don’t worry.” He said silently,

“I won’t ask you to move, so just sleep for a while here. Everything will be over when you wake up next time.”

The touch of the rugged palm moved from the forehead to the eyelids, giving warmth that seeped into her body and mind. That’s right. This is the hand that called me, and pulled me out from the darkness. Marida recalled this, but this was still unable to shake off her sleepiness. She closed her eyes slightly, and reached her arm that ostensibly had the drip on it at Zinnerman; her outstretched fingers touched the latter’s. It’s daddy’s hand. This non-contextual line appeared in her mind, and the body warmth of Zinnerman beside her vanished.

There was the sound of the curtains being pulled up, and the body that was surrounded by the cold and silent air outside drifted away gradually. Marida watched the back silhouette that was full of hardship, realized that she had no ability to support him, and let her body, ostensibly as heavy as lead, sink into the bed.

Part 2

This space was way too spacious for Gilligan, whose eyes were already used to the mobile suit deck of the Musai-Kai. The ceiling that was 7 levels tall was 30m in height, and the walls that were probably80m long had many hangars for maintenance lined up. If there’s another deck for launching and landing, this ridiculously large yet empty place is most likely a storage. There’s a construction area for disassembly located below the floor, and yet they managed to preserve a space 2 times smaller than this; got to hand it to them there.

“I suppose only those people with their souls sucked away by gravity can think of making a mobile suit stand on this deck.”

Upon hearing Gilligan’s little half-joke, “Yeah.” Lieutenant Keiman answered. It had been 2 years since Gilligan last entered a Federation’s ship for a common exercise, but the “Mock Wooden Horse”—the “Nahel Argama” had far more surplus items compared to the other ships. He looked at the 12 hangars lined along the wall, and felt that it was truly a waste of space. A Republic’s ship would effectively use the space on the ceiling and the floor to ferry double the number of mobile suits.

However, the “Nahel Argama” was in a situation which could only be described as desolated. There were 2 standard sized machines on the hangars, and there were 2 of the “Sleeves” Geara Zulu beside it; on the opposite wall, there were 4 Gultoppr squadron’s “Hizacks” lined up, with Gilligan’s custom unit at the forefront. The Federation units with the goggles were moved to a corner to make space for the monoeyed units that inherited the design of the “Zaku”, and this scene was the best proof that this ship was under the dominion of Zeon. However, these were merely large tools used to enact the current situation. Gilligan poked his body out from the catwalk beside the hangar and let the atmosphere of sovereignty enter his eyes.

The bright red armor leaned its back against the wall close to the bow, ostensibly floating in the air. That was the “Sinanju”, the unit of Full Frontal, whom they called the Second Coming of Char. The presence it gave off really gave a vibe that it was the true revival of the Red Comet. This “Sleeves” mobile suit was truly the baron of this current atmosphere. The cockpit covered laced with gold ornaments on the side opened, the pilot appeared from within, and the mask that covered the eyes and the forehead left more confidence in Gilligan’s heart as he felt affirmed.

It seemed true that the man really would not wear a normal suit even in battle. As his eyes pursued the bright red uniform, “It’s just like Char…” Gilligan muttered to himself, and he touched the rank insignia sewn on his mantle, dangling in front of his chest. The insignia that was sewn onto the mantle through memory fibers would not float easily even in zero gravity. The place was secure in the airlock, but it certainly would not be a good idea to remove their normal suits in the mobile suit deck of an enemy ship; however, Gilligan commanded his subordinates to change into the Republic army’s mantles, as he felt that by wearing the clothes given by the Federation, he could not become one with the current atmosphere.

What kind of people are we, the Republic army, to him? Gilligan tidied his mantle as his eyes pursued after Frontal, and then, the white mobile suit caused him to frown. The lone horned giant standing at the bow side of the deck did not match the deck dominated by the Red Comet. “Is that the “Gundam”…?” Keiman seemed to have seen the same thing as he muttered, and Gilligan looked at the “Unicorn” while suppressing the incensed look of his face.

“Yeah. It becomes like that when the horns on its head closes. I don’t know what it means though.”

Keiman however did not look back at Gilligan as the latter uttered these words, and reached his neck out from the railing to look at the “Unicorn”. Keiman’s squadron was assigned to attack the “Nahel Argama” directly, and thus, he did not witness the monstrous fighting strength that “Gundam”. The fear back then became cold sweat that appeared on Gilligan’s forehead, and he clenched his fists that were holding onto the railing.

That “Gundam” was not only superior in terms of capabilities, but also showed disposition. It crushed Gilligan’s belief that he could defeat tens or hundreds of people with only Patriotism, and showed the true disposition of a battlefield. His body was once swallowed up by it, and shriveled back when he only thought of how to escape from its firing range. If it was not for the espionage mission by the “Sleeves” on the “Nahel Argama” ceasing the battle one-sidedly, he would have escaped back to the “Gultoppr” without caring about his pride. That “Gundam” had at least put a dampener upon him, and it was an undeniable fact that the enthusiasm he had right from the beginning was all gone without a trace.

What kind of guy is that pilot? Gilligan looked at the gondola beside the cockpit of the “Unicorn”, and looked at the pilot who seemed to be the size of a bean from where he was, but the rumbling of the partition wall at the aft opening. The large wall caused the entire deck to tremor, and two small mobile suits entered, followed by a uniquely-shaped purple mobile suit with 3 claws on each of its two hands. Gilligan saw the two mini units before; they were most likely tasked with moving the mobile suits from the landing deck. They were accompanying the unit of the escort squad leader, Lieutenant Angelo’s “Rozen Zulu”; someone called it as such through the wireless communicator before.

The two mini mobile suits were chased away from the “Rozen Zulu”, which knelt down as it passed through the partition wall; they moved to a corner of the deck and stopped. These mini mobile suits were less than half the size of the “Rozen Zulu”, and were like little children that were caught in a prank and brought back; however, the technology used on them were definitely of the latest, for they were able to downside the generator and the propulsion system to this extent. “Those are the Manhunter machines.” Keiman muttered at Gilligan’s ears, causing the latter to frown. The Manhunters was the derogative name given to the special forces ECOAS, and this symbol of the Federation government’s caprice became a topic common amongst the “Wind’s Assembly”.

Suddenly, Gilligan felt uneasy. It would take more than a day for the “Sleeves” fleet hiding in Side 6 to reach them. During this time, they had to occupy the “Nahel Argama” with the people they had here. Including the shackled crew brought here by the mobile suits, there were only 16 people on Frontal’s team. Including the workers that snuck in here—the Garencieres team had less than 50 people. Of course, they would also need to assign people for outside security, so the numbers occupying the ship will be less. The invigilation of the inside of this ship would have to consist mainly of the special forces sent over by the “Gultoppr” and the “Dromi”. Even including the 30 Special Forces members sent by the 2 ships, the number of people that could keep watch over this ship would be less than a hundred.

This number would have been enough for the 400 “Mock Wooden Horse” crew members that was probably disarmed, but it would be a different case altogether if there were ECOAS members involved. They went through hellish training, and were deemed as monsters by those who were also soldiers. In comparison, this side had Republic soldiers, of which two-thirds hardly went through actual combat. Can we actually suppress them? Gilligan wondered, and felt doubt in his uneasy heart.

Gilligan himself realized that this was due to the fear caused by his experience with the “Gundam”. The “Gundam” pilot had personally taught him that the difference of life and death on a battlefield was all on personal spirit, but the contents of the clashing wills were different from what he imagined. It was something cruder, more realistic; it was a simple yet powerful emotion, of not wanting to die, but it felt no different from being thrown into a dangerous workplace. There was no sense of justice to delight himself in, no room for any high level tactics to interfere; it was a terror where he could be killed by a truck or a crane, a violent death he would be helpless against. To him, who had no sense of work ethic, and managed to hang on till now because his ideals, it took him all his effort not to be blown away by the blowing winds.

However, it was different from what he imagined. To put it simply, this would be all the explanation, but there was something behind this abnormal feeling, one that could cause the current situation to collapse. “Are we really fine? We’re going to be alone before the main forces of the “Sleeves” arrive…” Keiman continued, and Gilligian looked at the ECOAS mobile suit that got into a landing position. “I heard that the Garencieres team is full of hardened solders. With the power of us Special Forces—” he answered distractedly, but at the same time, the atmosphere on the deck suddenly changed, and a bright color appeared in the corner of his eyes.

The color passed through the air lock on the opposite wall and appeared on the catwalk. The bright green uniform had golden embroidery around it, and she had a wine red cape draped on her. It was impossible to see her appearance from this place, but the presence she gave off was not something an ordinary officer could compare to. The profile matched the image of the young Mineva Lao Zabi he saw in the documentaries, and his body froze. “Oi, that’s…!” “Isn’t that Her Highness Mineva Zabi?” there were similar buzzing occurring everywhere, causing the atmosphere on the deck to be shaken by the commotion.

The profile, ostensibly Mineva herself, ignored all the stares as she stepped on the catwalk. That delicate body was accompanied by Frontal’s escort squad, and her cape fluttered in the air. There was a light lit on the mobile suit deck filled with furor, and Gilligan felt all anxiety in him disappear as he was basically touched when he saw that figure. Mineva passed by her comrades in Republic army’s mantles, and went right at the hangar with the “Unicorn” on it. She saw the Federation soldiers dragged away without being able to do anything as they had guns pointed at them, and this embodiment of Zeonism was right in his vision—

“Sieg Zeon!”

The impulse in his heart surged out from his mouth in the form of words. Cheers immediately erupted, and many chants rang on the deck. Sieg Zeon, Sieg Zeon. The cheers of the Republic’s soldiers immediately filled the mobile suit deck, shaking the “Nahel Argama”. Gilligan believed that this wave would seep through space and reach all over the Earth Celestial sphere, becoming a power that beckons an awakening of a new age.

This is what I hoped for. The anxiety and uneasiness from before were swept apart, and he was driven with a thought that he could die whenever he could. The cheers of Sieg Zeon did not end for a short while, and the men, who found their refuge of pride, let their cheers echo through the air filling the deck.

Part 3

The fanatical cheers felt like a wall more than voices. It was a high overpowering wall that could not be harnessed by an individual’s will, which would not cease without reaching its destination—

And Audrey simply crossed that wall nonchalantly and approached this place. That person dressed in formal Neo Zeon clothing, basked in cheers below her eyes, was not Audrey. To Banagher, that person was someone who took the appearance of Audrey and hid herself within; it was the appearance of a certain person called Mineva Zabi, someone he was unacquainted with.

The crew of the “Nahel Argama” was surrounded by the Republic soldiers cheering, and they stopped to look at Audrey—Mineva. The crew was slowly being moved to this mobile suit deck, and Banagher saw them separated into different platoons with their hands on their heads, their knees kneeling on the floor. The group of uniformed Republic soldiers had their automatic miniarms aimed at the Federation soldiers they held captive, shouting Sieg Zeon. Time felt like it reverted back to the old One Year Year, and Banagher felt goosebumps as he sensed that he was ostensibly thrown into a different timeline as he looked for Zinnerman amongst the countless faces on the deck.

He did not see Zinnerman ever since he was detained aboard the deck. Where was he? What sort of expression was he giving? Banagher looked around, but found no signs of the other man, and grabbed onto the railing tightly, only to suddenly sense a cold stare from behind.

He turned his head slightly, and saw the red uniform standing behind him. Full Frontal’s masked face remained unmoved as he stood with his back facing the cockpit of the “Unicorn”. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at Banagher as his eyes were sheltered by the light filter. It seemed that he had made contact with Zinnerman beforehand and brought the “Nahel Argama” into his dominion effortlessly. It was a chill Banagher had never seen before, of a completely different, one that gave an intuition that if anyone were to resist, he would act and take down his opponent without waiting for the escort squad beside him.

What sort of person is he? Banagher recalled the face with the mask removed he saw once on “Palau”, but he still had an impression of the masked face itself, and at the same time, he felt the railing on the gondola tremble slightly. Mineva Zabi grabbed onto the same railing as she descended down the gondola, looking at the deck as her mantle flapped with the wind. The moment she raised her right hand, the chants of Sieg Zeon exploded into cheers, and formed a quake-like tremor that shook the gondola.

“Long live Your Highness Mineva!” “May glory descend upon the Zabi family!”Mineva looked around at the cheering soldiers, waited for their excitement to quell for a while, and then turned to look at Frontal behind her. Audrey.Banagher felt a voice in his heart calling out to her being deflected off and bouncing off the floor. He could only watch the side of that face that would not look at her. While the escort squad had their heels clasped together, Frontal stood in front of him, “It’s perfect.” and stepped forward.

“It’s certainly worth bringing a change of clothes. The morale of the Republic’s soldiers will rise now.”

Frontal stated calmly as the smile on his lips was the only expression he had. “You certainly are well prepared.” Mineva answered coldly, her eyes showing disgust as she seemed to be looking at an enemy.”

“I heard that the Char Aznable that led Neo Zeon in the past did not like having people act as symbols, isn’t it?”

“The man called Char may be such, but I’m just doing what I feel I need to do. Did you not change your clothes because you understood this, Your Highness?”

“You’re treating me like a fool here. Your attitude is the reason why I left the “Sleeves”…but it’s useless to talk further.”

Since it already ended up like this. In response to Mineva’s unstated words, Frontal still showed a smile on his face as he answered, “I’m intimidated.” Mineva looked away from the masked face, and then looked at Banagher for a split moment, but she looked back at the deck before Banagher could see her expression clearly.

“But is this alright? There are ECOAS members amongst the captives. These aren’t opponents the inexperienced Republic’s soldiers can handle.”

“I left the Garencieres team to watch over ECOAS and the important members of the crew. Please do not worry.”

“Then why did you gather everyone on this mobile suit deck? With the Republic’s ships supporting, you should be able to isolate and detain them separately.”

“It’s all according to the decision in our strategy. You do not have to worry, Your Highness.”

“Strategy…to inquire about the final coordinates of the “Laplace Box”?”

The decisive voice caused the smile to disappear off Frontal’s face. Banagher had switched off the generator before he was detained aboard the ship, so that the data of the Laplace Process would not be called out. Mineva knew this, but what would this have to do with gathering the hostages here? As he inadvertently looked at Mienva, he subconsciously realized the term ‘hostage’, and his vision turned dark.

No way. He was driven by this impulse to yell in his heart as he glared at Frontal. The mask that was covered with shivers remained unmoved, “You…!” and as he exclaimed and stepped forward, an arm reached from behind and cuffed his neck, causing his body to be lifted off the floor and pulled behind.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Banagher Links…!”

This voice numbed his skin, and his abdomen had a gun pointed at it. Angelo Sauper’s voice felt just as moist as it was when he was following Frontal on “Palau”. “We can’t talk calmly here. Let’s move somewhere else.” Frontal said, and then disappeared from his vision. Mineva answered back with her glance, and her face then turned over to give a glance. Her emerald eyes were showing a little bitterness, ostensibly wanting to tell him something, but was that an illusion? Banagher’s windpipe was pressed halfway through as he let out a breathing voice, and he moved his hand in the air. His pressured nerves let out tears, and the back of Mineva got even blurry, causing him to feel regret.

Part 4

The mobile suit deck had the largest capacity inside the ship, and the ground space was the size of a school field. Even as 400 crew members were gathered here, it did not seem narrow, but it certainly felt abnormal to see so many people gathered in this place. At the end of its service, even if it was docked, this military ship would have people on duty, and there was no way all the crew could leave their areas—other than the moments when there was a huge hole that required evacuation from the ship, or when the ship was occupied by the enemy.

In fact, the method used by the Garencieres team was really superb. They started their raid on the armory the moment the Republic army began their assault, and took down all the important areas. There were no deaths simply because they were so fast that there was no chance of resistance. They probably checked through the inner workings of the “Nahel Argama” thoroughly through these 4 days, as well as its security. Perhaps they offered the “Garencieres” to make us relax—or were Mineva Zabi’s words all an act? Otto’s thoughts did not have focus as he suddenly felt hot in the head, and gritted his teeth as he looked at the “Unicorn”. He could only see the bottom of the gondola leaned at the side of the cockpit hatch at the abdomen, and he could not see Mineva’s expression there as he saw the white machine swallow its secret from the edge of his captain’s hat.

The “Sinanju” was standing beside the Red Comet, and its dazzling red armor reflected the spotlights shining onto the deck. The purple mobile suit that seemed to be the unit of the escort squad leader brought back the two “Lotos” from the L1 Junction, and parked its bulky machine at the wall right in front of the aft. The machine that had the curves of petals had the same sense of design as the 4-winged placed in the maintenance deck below—the “Kshatriya”. It stood with the Republic army’s “Hizacks”, and this was practically an exhibition of Zeonic mobile suits.

The crew gathered at the feet was assorted into platoons of 20, and they were forced to kneel on the floor. Each squad had 2 Republic soldiers watching over them, while the ones watching over Otto and the important crew members were the ones from the Garencieres team. Of course, their index fingers were placed upon the safeties of the Sub machine guns. Otto saw Flaste’s unfaltering expression, and sighed as he turned to the partition wall at the aft end.

Conroy and the ECOAS that were brought off the “Lotos” had guns pointing at them from front and back as they approached. All of them were moving unsteadily, probably because their hands were tied behind their backs, and as they were in zero gravity, they would have to move with the magnets on the boots.

“That’s weird.”

Liam, who knelt down beside Otto, whispered to him softly. The latter looked over at her.

“To think that the ECOAS would be imprisoned here with us…it’s not a good idea for them to gather us all in a single place. Logically, it’ll be best to separate us to prevent us from colluding.”

She let out a choking voice at the end, and lowered her face that seemed to be enduring the pain. They were in zero gravity, but blood fluctuation would not be smooth if they were to keep putting their hands on their heads, and there was a gunshot wound under the plaster slapped on her shoulder. “Does it hurt?” Otto asked softly, “The wound isn’t much.” And Liam answered quickly.

“But my body just feels like it’s breaking. I’m feeling really peeved inside.”

Otto recalled the side of her face when she yelled at the Garencieres team for being shameless and charged right at them when they stepped into the bridge. The bullet merely grazed her shoulder, and Otto felt more fortunate than her in this sense. If there were deaths in the crew, he had no belief that he could remain sane as a Captain. “Don’t talk, you know.” Otto cringed his neck upon hearing the voice of the watchman, and then stared at the expressions of the crew he could see. It had been 2 hours since the occupations started, and no one had lost their cool yet, but nobody knew what would happen after this. Otto thought that it was time to ask about what the enemy was planning to do, and the moment he looked past his subordinates and stared at Flaste’s face, the latter looked behind Otto.

Otto looked behind, and saw Zinnerman dragging his leather jacket in the air. He passed by Otto and company from above, knelt down and landed splendidly, “I’ll leave the bridge to you.” He told Flaste, who nodded, and once the latter left the airlock, Zinnerman turned his expressionless stare back at him.

“Each group is to have a representative. Those who wants to head to the bathroom or is feeling unwell will have to raise it to the invigilators through the representative. Also, if anything happens, the representative will have to bear responsibility.”

He said monotonously, seemingly reciting a message. It seemed that the other groups had the same explanation as a few voices rang. “I suppose the representative here will be Captain Otto?” Zinnerman continued, and Otto glared back, but the former did not look at him. “The Neo Zeon fleet will reach us soon.” He continued,

“You shall be our prisoner from now on, and you’ll receive proper treatment. As long as you don’t resist, your lives will be assured. You are to obey our instructions until the fleet arrives—”

“Traitor.”

A voice came from someone, and Zinnerman closed his mouth as he was interrupted. Otto sensed the presence of the watchman raising the sub machine gun, and resisted to shout and turn to the person who called out. With everyone looking at her, Mihiro, who was on her knees, turned her upper body up, and glared at Zinnerman with an expression befitting her mini-tank nickname.

“It’s not like we fully trusted you, but Banagher did. Do you understand now? You betrayed the one person you shouldn’t have betrayed. That’s—”

Zinnerman remained silent as he merely drew his handgun from his waist, ceasing all words that followed. “Don’t move!” the watchman’s voice rang, stopping Otto from getting up. Otto put his hands on his head again as he looked at Zinnerman, pointing his gun at Mihiro. If he dares to squeeze the trigger, I’ll bite his throat off even if I’m going to be riddled with bullets. After a serious exchange of glances for several seconds, Zinnerman put down his gun and placed it back into his holster as nonchalantly as when he drew it.

“Trust is just like a gamble.”

He lowered his head and muttered. The emotion that appeared in his eyes caused Otto to look at him with observant eyes.

“The result of a gamble is that the gambler has to pay the price. This is the rule, no matter how unreasonable it is.”

ZInnerman lifted his head, and he showed the expression of a hardened soldier with all feelings wiped away. “This…!” Mihiro sounded agitated, but Otto stopped her with a hand signal, and then met Zinnerman in the eyes. “We’ll obey the rules, definitely.” On hearing this, Zinnerman’s large eyebrows twitched.

“But he hasn’t admitted defeat yet, right?”

Otto turned his sights to the “Unicorn” at the bow side’s partition wall. Zinnerman stopped himself from turning his head, and his expression showed signs of wavering as he looked back. “Let’s hope that both sides won’t have any casualties again.” Zinnerman muttered and turned away to leave, but Otto did not look at him as he stared at the gondola beside the “Unicorn” deck. He saw Mineva and Banagher follow behind Frontal’s red uniform as the latter floated in the air, ostensibly wanting to move somewhere else as they went to the aft.

Part 5

The masked man leapt off the gondola and started to float around in space; though he was in front of them, he felt so unrealistic. He looked like Char during the One Year War, and the uncanny resemblance was such that he was ostensibly brought alive from a documentary. Takuya Irei’s eyes were subconsciously attracted by this, and then saw Mineva leap off the gondola, followed by Banagher’s white pilot suit. The Neo Zeon pilot sticking to Banagher from behind was most probably Full Frontal’s escort team.

That hand was holding onto a recoilless handgun as it was aimed at Banagher, who was moving in front. The black hole of the barrel was leading to a hole of empty darkness. A shot from it could wipe off a person’s life and turn the body into must. The terror of a Garencieres crew member aiming his gun at a person appeared in Takuya’s mind clearly again, and he clenched his trembling fist.

He had been living in a ship on active combat service for a month, and thought that he had more or less grew some guts in him, but the terror of being pointed at with a gun was another thing altogether. His body, which was already used to fighting back at AEIC, was unable to move due to fear. If not for the fact that they were in zero gravity, his legs would have collapsed, and he could have knelt down on the floor if the enemy told him to do so. The gun that was transferred to him together with antagonistic intent had such power; this little hole could remove him from the human world, and this unreasonable and cruel logic numbed his mind as he could not help but think of anything other than death.

Is that guy alright? He looked towards the group of people moving towards them slightly, “Banagher…” and immediately turned his head aside the moment he heard this weak voice. Micott did not notice his stare as she continued to look on at the white pilot suit approaching her. Haro, which was in her lap, remained silent as it could not sense its own approaching, making things unbearable. The Republic soldiers demanded that it was either to be confiscated, or to be shut down, and they naturally chose the latter.

Takuya may be rather open-minded about this, but Micott still had some affections for Banagher. She knew that this was unrequited, but she continued to live through this situation with such feelings. And what am I doing now?

To Banagher now, Micott and I are just two out of the 400 people on board the deck. We can’t rely on the adults around us, and Micott has to rely on me for support, but I can’t say anything that can make her relax. I’m trying using up all my strength just to support myself, looking at Banagher aimlessly—and putting my hopes in him. He felt gutless because of this, and bit his lips as a result. “Oi, Takuya.” At that moment, a hushed voice rang at his ears, and his heart throbbed in shock.

“I’ll create some commotion. Once I give you the signal, run to the hatch nearby.”

It was the voice of Jona Gibney. This man was the most experienced of all the mechanics, and was the representative of Takuya’s group as the mechanics were divided into three platoons. Takuya consciously turned his head around, “Don’t turn your head!” but a roar turned his tense face forward. He rolled his eyes to check the movements of the invigilators, “What do you intend to do?” he asked softly,

“They’ll pass by above us. I’ll get the Princess as a hostage, so use this opening to run to the Bow Thrusters engine room.”

“No way…! You’re get killed!”

“Those guys from Zeon view that Princess as the star of their hope. We can more or less buy some time here. Those guys from Zeon are all rookies.”

The invigilators were in pairs, and after every 30 minutes, one of the two would switch around. However, all of them were young and nervous. Mineva, who was approaching from above, would attract their attention to a point where they could not see two people whispering to each other. To Takuya, they looked like rookies too. “Do you know how to operate the Bow Bhrusters manually?”Gibney continued, and Takuya instinctively nodded its head.

“The thrust it creates will present ECOAS a chance to counterattack. You’re not a formal crew member, and it’s possible for you to sneak away even if you’re missing.”

“But…”

“We won’t know what’ll happen when we become Zeon prisoners. Can you endure seeing her being treated as a plaything?”

Takuya’s shoulders jerked slightly, and he looked at Micott sidelong. The latter probably realized his presence as she showed an uneasy expression on her face as she looked back, causing him to look away.

Banagher can’t deal with that much now, Gibney and the rest don’t have the time to care about such stuff. I’m the only one who can take care of Micott—he felt the burden Micott brought as she started to rely on him unconsciously for the past month, glanced at Gibney, and decided to take action. Gibney patted him on the shoulder and left from the back. The tense atmosphere of the mechanics around them reached Takuya, and it seemed that they were ready for this. “Takuya…” in the midst of this tense atmosphere, Takuya tried to look for an opening, and Micott looked at him with a nervous expression.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t move.”

“Don’t be reckless. We’re not soldiers here.”

“But Banagher isn’t…don’t worry, at least I can protect you.”

He did not look at Micott, who gasped for a short moment, and saw that the closest airlock was about 30m away. They probably think that we can’t do anything just by breaking off our link with the higher-ups. There’s no decent invigilation here, and the enemy doesn’t have the manpower needed to keep a close eye on everyone in the ship. Once I leave the mobile suit deck, I’ll find a way; it’ll be fine. He tried to convince himself in his worried heart, “Erm, sorry, but I need the toilet…” a mechanic spoke up, causing Takuya’s shoulders to jerk.

It began. “I told you that the representative is to say it.” The Republic soldier answered with an adamant voice. “Ye-yes, what’s the matter now?” Gibney got up while pretending to play dumb, and the Red Comet and the rest were about to pass by from above. “DON’T YOU STAND UP RANDOMLY!” the roaring soldier focused his attention on Gibney, while the other soldier was distracted by this commotion. At this time, the mechanics got into action,

Many hands quickly got into action to cover the mouths of the Republic soldiers, grab their automatic rifles, and pull them to the floor. Gibney too got up and knocked into Mineva who was around 10m above him. Frontal, who was leading the procession, turned his head around, while Banagher and the escort squad seemed dumbfounded as they panicked. “Hurry up and go!” However, Takuya did not have the time to check as someone’s deep growl prompted him, and he kicked the floor in a dazed manner.

“Takuya…!” he turned his back on Micott, who cried out with a hushed voice, and let his body float to the airlock. “Don’t shoot!” “Her Highness…!?” Takuya sensed the numerous voices, and the sudden noisy atmosphere of the deck pricked his skin as he gritted his teeth and focused on the door in front of his eyes. He thought he stepped off the floor with all his strength, but his body was not moving as fast as he though. He floated away at a distance not too far from the floor, and was about to touch the hangar in front of the airlock, but a gunshot caused him to miss his footing off the hangar.

He turned his body around, and the scene on the mobile suit deck appeared in his eyes. He saw many frozen figures, and the color of blood sprayed in the air caused his mind to turn blank.

The blood was wriggling like amoeba between Banagher and Mineva, who were showing shocked expressions. The trail of blood from Gibney’s head formed a reddish-brown stain that appeared in the wide space. The blood trail split apart to form blobs of all sizes, and Gibney’s body lost half its head, letting out blood as he spun in the air. On the other size, the man holding the handgun that was giving off smoke was—

“YOU BASTARD…!”

The sudden roar caused the time that stood still to crack. Full Frontal glanced at Captain Otto, who was restrained by the invigilator as he wanted to get close, and put the handgun that killed Gibney back into the holster. This action seemed like a code that caused many frozen figures to move. “Mechanic officer…!” “Petty Officer Gibney was…!?” The wails of the crew rang together with the call from the Republic soldiers, “Don’t you move! Anyone that moves will be shot!” There was a scream that came a moment later, Is that Micott? The moment Takuya thought of this, several Republic soldiers closed in on him and held down his floating body.

What happened next felt like a dream. Takuya felt pain in his twisted arm, but it was only a distant feeling. As he could not move a single finger, the scenery in front of him started to move. The inertia of the gunshot floated in the air, and Gibney’s corpse hit the wall with a heavy thud. “DON’T LEAVE YOUR DESIGNATED AREA!” “TELL SOMEONE TO BRING A BODY BAG!” The hollering Republic soldiers and the added invigilators pointed their guns at the kneeling mechanics. These figures passed by his vision, and Micott’s face was the only thing that explained everything. She hugged Takuya without saying anything, bringing him to some levels of normalcy. Looks like I’m back to square one, Takuya thought in his blank mind, and he looked over Micott’s shoulders and up at the scene above him.

Gibney’s blood was still floating in mid-air, and Banagher was held back by the escort squad from behind. “THERE’S NO NEED TO KILL HIM, RIGHT!? THERE ISN’T…!” the moment he shouted out, Mineva stood in the air, clenching her fist, “Are you hurt anywhere, Princess…?” and she did not look at the soldier asking her as he approached. “Deal with the body properly.” Frontal said, and the expression from her face vanished after she took a deep breath. She told the soldiers to back down, and descended to where they were.

The expression that was filled with an adamant will met his, and his dreamlike membrane was completely ripped off. It seemed that Micott sensed the abnormal atmosphere as she pushed her body away from Takuya and looked up. “Princess, you mustn’t!” However, Mineva ignored the loud plea from the soldier as she looked down at Takuya and Micott.

She looked around at the mechanics who were giving her hostile looks as the Republic soldiers pointed guns at them, and met Takuya in the eyes again. “This is really an unfortunate accident.” She let out a cold voice, causing Takuya to blink his dazed eyes.

“The same action will only lead to the same outcome. Please choose your actions well. After saying that, Mineva reached her hand out. “Princess! You mustn’t reach your royal hand out like that…!” a soldier exclaimed from above, and Takuya, who looked at the outstretched hand, was about to hold it back, “As expected, you’re…!” but Micott’s voice caused his heart to jolt.

“YOU’RE AN ACCOMPLICE OF THOSE MURDERERS!”

Micott stood up and swung a hand at Mineva’s hands. Their bodies crashed into each other at this moment, “YOU!” before the soldiers above shouted, the Republic soldiers showed a marked change in expressions as they charged over. Before they could reach their hands out, Takuya grabbed Micott by the waist. Micott’s momentum as she left Mineva caused the duo to float in the air, and the mechanics formed a human wall to block them as he held his breath to cover her. “What accident! How is it…!” Takuya cried out in tears, and though he took a few punches from the struggling Micott, he let his body tense up as he covered this life in his arms.

“You bastards, move aside!” “There’s a limit to your insolence! Hand over that woman!” several Republic soldiers growled as they reached their hands out. “What are you saying when you killed Chief Mechanic Gibney!” “You’re the ones that got careless!” The mechanics hollered back, and at the apex of their argument, “Alright, that’s enough.” Mineva’s stern and regal voice rang.

“But…!”

“We deserve to be hit for what we did. Let’s go!”

She glanced over to them with her hand on her cheek, and there was a hidden meaning in that action. Once he saw Mineva kick the floor and float up, Takuya turned to look at the sobbing Micott. He could see the Republic soldiers sulk and leave, and brought his mouth to her ears, “Calm down, Micott.” He quickly said with a hushed voice.

“Just endure this for now. Look at your right pocket too.”

Micott’s drenched eyes widneed, and she separated from Takuya, ostensibly pushing him away. There should be no doubts about this; she hid something in her hand wanted to hand us something. The moment she scuffled with Micott, Mineva stuffed something into her chest pocket. “Check it later.” Takuya warned Micott, who was inadvertently about to take it out, and lifted his head slightly to see Mineva laving.

I don’t know how to deal with this situation, but I had to be careful with what she gave us. This thought injected life into his fear-riddled body. He pulled the half-believing Micott close to him and hugged her shoulders. The bloody smell that was filled with the stench of grease told him how important this warmth that reached his hands was.

Part 6

Gibney’s blood became irregular blobs that floated in the air, and floated up before disappearing due to the currents from the air purifier system. Some blood remained on the metal bars of the hangar, on the mobile suit deck that was practically his life, leaving behind a scar that could not be erased.

There was no hesitation at all—Banagher recalled the technique Frontal used to shoot through Gibney’s skull, and glared at the back in front of him. Did he do it instinctively because of the incoming danger on Mineva? Did he believe that he had enough skill to shoot Gibney? Most likely not. Frontal never considered Mineva’s life right from the beginning, and if that was not the case, he would not have fired without hesitation.

Gibney’s corpse was already contained in the body bag, and was being transported out of the deck by the Republic soldiers. Banagher looked afar at the black bag that was expanded into a human shape, and blankly wondered what kind of person that man was when he was alive. He did not have a chance to talk with the man slowly, but his skills and instincts as a mechanic were top-notch. From Takuya and Micott’s response, one could imagine that he was the kind of person who was very caring of others. Could those two remain calm now that things had become like this? Banagher looked down at Takuya and the rest below him; it had been a while since her scuffle with Mineva ended, but Micott did not look up. Takuya was beside her, clutching her shoulders.

Rage rose in him, and he had no way of venting them out. A ripping pain spread through his body. If he had not brought Zinnerman along, events would not have developed till this extent. Gibney would not have died, and those two would not be so terrified. Maybe there would be a different situation if he had taken Mineva as hostage…? Banagher floated listlessly as he was bound down by the bloody mess that could not be salvaged any further. “Don’t dily-daly.” Angelo growled as he twisted Banagher’s arm from behind and poked his gun at the back.

“Don’t give us any more trouble. The fates of the people here will all depend on your attitude.”

He ostensibly felt a blade, and the icy feeling was finally resting at his neck. Angelo looked back at Banagher, who consciously looked back, “You understand now, right? There’s a reason why we gathered the prisoners here.” His lips curled up,

“If you refuse to help us, we’ll release the air on this mobile suit deck.”

Banagher was already prepared, but the feeling of the blade pressed at his throat still hurt. Angelo continued to press it on the trembling Banagher, “Don’t think this is a mere threat.” He said to the latter’s ears.

“We follow up on what we say. If you don’t want them to suffocate, tell us the final coordinates of the “Box”.”

Angelo’s bloodshot eyes were looking back at Banagher, and there were more than 400 people who were not dressed in normal suits. Banagher’s body lost all life for sure this time as he let his numb body and mind drift amidst the mobile suit deck.

Part 7

It had been 5 minutes since the command for the entire crew to stand guard against the acceleration was given. The “General Revil” continued to accelerate, and Riddhe was at the aft, where all the air was packed towards, in the middle of this uncomfortable G force. He held onto the abnormal weight of the lift grip as he hurriedly passed through the long corridor. The lift grip at maximum speed reached its final destination, and he used the momentum to let the body float and reach the door of the bridge.

The “General Revil” was the largest cruiser of the Federation space army, but the bridge was not that ridiculously big. There were many mobile suit decks, so there were more operators on duty, and there were more monitors on the wall that even extended towards the ceiling; this would be the extent of its characteristic. Riddhe accepted the salute of the officer at the door and barged into the bridge. Captain Maseki looked behind to see the pitch black pilot charge in, looking completely lost; however, Riddhe did not look back as he approached that stout profile sitting at the commander seat. Before Alberto, who was tapped on the shoulder, could turn behind, “Uniform 007, path’s clear. Please launch.” Riddhe heard the operator say this, (Roger that) and a familiar voice rang through the wireless communicator.

(Nigel Garrett, U007, launching.)

The tremors from the bow of the catapult would not reach the bridge that was several hundred meters away. However, the jet flares of the “Jesta” that was launched could be seen clearly at the front. Before Nigel’s unit could light its thrusters in vacuum and make contact with the Base Jabber, (U008, ready for launch.) “Roger that, clearing course…) Daryl’s voice rang through the communicator, and once the operator’s voice rang, “What’s going on now!?” Riddhe grabbed Alberto by the shoulder and asked.

“We spotted a flash from a battle at the ‘L1 Junction’. It may have something to do with the “Nahel Argama”.”

Alberto made a glance at Riddhe, and turned forward again. Maseki, who was seated on the Captain’s seat beside them, was giving a questioning look with his eyes, asking who the person was, but Alberto did not respond as his slightly swollen face continued to look at the front.

“Even if we race there at maximum battle speed, the “General Revil” will only reach there half a day later. That’s why I got the Tri-Stars to head out first and check it out.”

“WHY NOT ME!?”

The sudden roar echoed, and it seemed that the cadres on the bridge were all looking at him. (Watts Stepney, U009, launching!) with the voice ringing through the communicator in the background, Riddhe continued to glare at Alberto.

Nobody told him that the acceleration was beginning. Even if there was a patrol rotation, Alberto should be able to use his authority to interfere. Alberto stared back at Riddhe, who was venting his complaints wordlessly, “Don’t be so loud!” and hissed. He looked at Maseki, who pricked his ears, left the commander seat, and brought Riddhe to the back to the bridge.

“It may not be the “Nahel Argama”. I told the Tri-Stars to launch because they’re not part of the original forces here. Just wait for Lieutenant Nigel’s report.”

“The “Banshee” is also not in the standard team. If you need to scout it, I too can—”

“What can you do when you can’t pilot the machine well? And can you work together with the Tri-Stars well?”

Alberto had witnessed Riddhe’s altercation with Nigel, and was at a loss of what to reply. “It won’t be beneficial to have the “Banshee” carry out battle for a long time.” He left from beside Riddhe, and quipped,

“Once the moment arrives, I want you to leave even if you don’t want to. Save your strength before that…and the atmosphere’s weird too.”

Alberto glanced at the main screen at the front and added on with a hushed voice. “Weird?” Riddhe repeated as he looked over at where Alberto was looking.

“There’s a ship that looks like the “Nahel Argama” and two others. Their affiliation is unknown because their signals vanished, but they haven’t been doing anything once the battle ended, just sticking beside the ‘L1 Junction’.”

The unknown ship markers shown on the screen were clearly not moving. The three markers were not showing any signs to indicate if they were friend or foe, but they were practically packed together and moving at the same velocity, overlapping the point that’s indicated as the ‘L1 Junction’. It seemed that they were jammed into the center of the Lagrange Point, the center of gravity between the Earth and the Moon.

“Something happened, but what…”

Alberto muttered as he looked at the 3 coordinates. The unknown anxiety spread across as Riddhe looked up at the screen too.

Part 8

In the ship that was devoid of people, the sounds of engines were the only things that could be heard. It had been approximately 2 hours after the occupation, but even the air felt foreign.

Of course, the Captain’s room in a corner of the gravity block was no exception. In this place that was filled with cold and silent air, Banagher, Mineva, Angelo and the red profile of Frontal were present. They were led here by the Garencieres team, and Frontal chose a place where they could talk quietly, the waiting room leading to the Captain’s room. The 4 cups of coffee were still giving off hot air, but nobody touched them. The positions of the captors and the captives were of no relation to the quartet present, and a short moment of silence descended upon them as their bodies sank in the gravity as time passed.

It had been a long time since he once met Daguza face to face. The bland instant coffee aroma spread around the room, replacing the fragrance of the red tea Otto prided himself in the last time Banagher took a drink from it. He let his body sink into the sofa and looked at the back of Frontal, who did not sit as he merely looked at the landscape painting, still giving off a presence that was not of a human. Perhaps the chilling atmosphere in this ship was a result of this man’s arrival.

“What Lieutenant Angelo said is the truth. We’re taking the crew of this entire ship as hostages.”

Frontal seemed to have detected Banagher’s stare as he did not move while saying. Did Angelo tell him of this, or that he sensed that Angelo mentioned this before? Banagher was unable to tell as he wordlessly looked back.

“But it’s not my intention to use hostages as shields to force you. You do have talent.”

He turned around abruptly, and the stare from the mask remained unmoved. The anti-glare filter reflected a strong dazzling light, and Banagher, who was sitting on the sofa, tensed up.

“It’s a talent we need. No matter what path you take after that, it’ll be a waste to see a world dominated by the Federation bury such talent.”

The hand with the white glove on it reached for the mask and took it off. The lush blond hair let out a flowing sound that overlapped with Mineva’s breath, and Angelo, who took a step forward, let out a faltering breath. Banagher exerted strength into his abdomen as he looked at the face which had its mask removed.

“Will you assist me, Banagher Links? You have more worth than what you imagine yourself to be of.”

The blue exposed eyes had an expression that was reading into other people’s hearts as it looked right back at him. He’s not talking about ‘us’, but ‘me’, this explanation caused Banagher to feel an unexpected weight, and he looked down at his clenched fists. He glanced at the glaring Angelo, and then looked at the overly handsome face in front of him, “…Why did you kill Mr Gibney?” he eked out these wods.

“Your ability alone can restrict his actions even if you don’t kill him.”

“You should be able to understand, right?”

The poker face was just like how it was with the mask on, and it was impossible to see what sort of expression Frontal was giving. “Make an example of others, am I correct?” Banagher immediately answered, “That’s right.” Frontal looked down at the former and showed a thin smile.

“This is the talent I said of you, to see through others like this.”

“This is the talent of a killer, not a Newtype ability under Zeon Deikun’s definition.”

Banagher forgot the pressure surrounding him for a short moment. “Who do you think you’re talking to, kid…!” Angelo growled and reached his arm out before Frontal could reply, and grabbed Banagher by the collar.

“What the Captain is saying is the responsibility that comes with the ability. What do you think will happen if that mechanic’s still alive? There’ll be more of the same things happening, and more sacrifices will be made. Those who have the ability to see the future have the duty and responsibility to deal with such things coldly.”

Even in low gravity, the arm strength to raise Banagher’s weight with one arm was not to be underestimated. The expression was filled with personal emotions, a stark contrast to the words that were just said, and Banagher felt a suffocating fear.

“You’re just running away from this responsibility, a fool who haven’t realized it at all.”

“I know that…! But so what about those people who think that they can see the future? They’re just like the dictators of the past or Char who threw an asteroid down onto Earth, it’s just a contest of who kills more here, right? My father who wanted to hand the “Laplace Box” to Newtypes…Cardeas Vist may be of the same kind as them!”

The strength disappeared from Angelo’s hand, “Father…?” and a surprised voice came out from his mouth. Banagher shook his hand off, stood up while staggering, and turned his stare at Frontal, who did not twitch his eyebrows in the slightest. “So if there’s really such a power, I have to be careful. I can’t just fall into despair myself; I need to find a way for everyone to coexist together—”

The door suddenly opened, causing Banagher to swallow the latter half of his words.

Zinnerman opened the door, stopped for a moment as everyone looked at him, and stepped into the room. He did not look at anyone, and his bearded face gave off a familiar odor; Banagher stood at where he was as he turned his face away. He had been concerned about something all this while, but the moment Zinnerman appeared, he was unable to say anything. There was a voice bellowing in him, telling him that it was useless of him to say this. The word despair felt so clear in him, and he felt the knees that were supporting him in his resistance against Frontal lose strength.

Did Char, Father, threw the asteroid down to Earth and wanted to open the “Box”, the source of this conflict because they felt endless despair? He was shocked by this thought flashing through his mind, and was unable to find anything to argue back as he slumped into the sofa. With his back facing Mineva diagonally, ZInnerman looked at a corner of the room with all emotions gone from his eyes; Banagher again clenched his fists.

“…Anyway, I have no intention of helping Neo Zeon. If there’s a responsibility, it’s mine since I’m entrusted with the “Box”.”

“But we can say that since you say so, the hostages will lose their lives. What will you say about that?”

Frontal turned the old scar on his forehead as he answered. Banagher lowered his head.

“Your self-righteousness will kill many people. The outcome here will mean that you’re doing no different from Char and your father, right?”

The steady voice felt like a silk rope that was slightly choking his body and mind. If there were a devil in this world, perhaps this would be the voice he uses to mutter. Banagher was shocked by the blue eyes that were terrifyingly silent, and bit his lips as he could not argue back. “That’s enough of your act here, Captain Frontal.” However, an interrupting voice caused him to gasp.

“You want to ask me, right? Where the “Box” is.”

Mineva got up from her single-seat sofa and stared at Frontal’s face as she said this. The face that had been out of Banagher’s consciousness up till this point caused his sweaty fists to cringe as it forced itself inside his sights.

“Just ask honestly. It’s an indulgent act to try and actually make that boy speak for himself.”

She waved her arm, ostensibly not wanting the other man to argue back, and moved her knees and cape. The sweet aroma that floated by felt just like the one Banagher had a whiff of when their lips were close together in the cockpit. “I know where the final location of the “Box” is.” He blinked as Mineva said that, and though he knew, his heart jolted.

“I was in the “Unicorn” cockpit too, so I witnessed it personally.”

“About that…if you were willing to tell us, you could have avoided all unnecessary sacrifices, right?”

Angelo stood about as he spaced out, but Frontal ignored him as he let out a surprised voice. Mineva saw Zinnerman move his eyes, and looked back at Frontal, “But I have a condition.” And said with a cold voice.

“What do you want to do with the “Laplace Box” once you get it? I want to hear your opinion on this.”

“Say it here, is it?”

“Right. Before you continue however, I don’t want to hear any rotten saying like reviving Zeon. The man who built relationships with the Zeon government and launched operations before the return of self-autonomy isn’t that simple.”

Once she finished saying this, Mineva showed a glint of straightforwardness in her eyes, a cruelty that made her different from her identity as Audrey. Banagher heard the throbbing in his chest and looked at Frontal. The face that was looking back at Mineva showed a human-like moment of hesitation on his face, “Alright.” He answered, turned to Mineva, but…

“However.”

Mineva immediately stopped him, passed by the front of the red uniform, and walked towards the communication panel on the wall. She proceeded to operate it and pressed the phone button at the bottom. “The conversation here will be leaked out to the ship.” She said as she turned to Frontal,

“Please say your real motive, Captain. If you really have conviction, how about you let the Republic soldiers hear it out?”

“This will also reach the ears of the Federation soldiers, and their freedom in the future will be heavily restricted as a result, you know?”

“They’re prisoners either way. If you really have such a belief in your values, Captain, someone may be willing to help you.”

It seemed that a sharp exchange of words was under way. Frontal saw that Mineva kept her poker face, and lowered his face. Banagher saw him, with both Angelo and Zinnerman looking, focus his blue eyes in space, and started saying while ostensibly not looking at this place,

“The Space Migrant Independence Plan up till this point is determined by the Federation’s willingness to grant self-governance. Without looking at the example of the One Year War, we can be certain that the Federation will definitely not agree with this. Then, there’s no need to wait for their approval. It is my opinion that we ignore them.”

Part 9

(Ignore…?)

(Besides me, Defense Minister Monaghan Baharov of the Republic too has the same idea. Why will the Federation not agree to the independence of Spacenoids? It’s because Spacenoids are people who are abandoned in space. They feel that those are the descendents of those people who aren’t needed to Earth, people who are inferior to them. The people inferior to them are calling for their independence, wanting to be of equal standing to them, and selfishly insist that staying on Earth is a crime. The Federation government comprised of Earthnoids will naturally not agree to such insistences because they knew that once they accept it, Spacenoids would not simply be of equal standing, but may even lose the initiative.)

The sudden broadcast in the ship caused every single person to lift their heads. “What?” “Isn’t that the voice of the Red Comet?” The crew murmured to each other, and voices were overlapping, causing the ripples of wavering to spread amongst them. Otto, whose mind had been frozen in place ever since Petty Officer Gibney was killed, had a weak electric pulse in his mind as he looked at the invigilators around them.

There were some Republic soldiers looking blankly into the mobile suit deck or looking at each other; the Garencieres team too was using the wireless communicator to make contact. Upon seeing their doubtful expressions, he exchanged surprised looks with Liam, and then heard Frontal’s voice,

(The reason is simple. The current Earth Celestial Sphere can’t be established without Spacenoids. Energy, food, all economic activity is established by the 7 Sides and the Moon. In fact, the self-reliance can’t support the 2 billion Earthnoids. In contrast, Spacenoids are self-sufficient even if they break away from Earth.)

The one who could conclude this as truth, this magical voice certainly belonged to Full Frontal. Upon hearing that voice that sounded just like the real Char, What is this for? Otto wondered. “It seems this broadcast’s completely unexpected to the Zeon people as well.” Another voice stunned him. Conroy, who got over unknowingly, showed his face from behind.

The members of ECOAS were gathered 10m away from the cadres. Conroy, who probably snuck over to them while the invigilators were not paying attention, did not give off any presence as he did not undo the restrain tied on his hands. Upon recalling their nickname as Manhunters, Otto suppressed the chill in his heart, watched the stare from the invigilators, and turned his head forward. “That’s too reckless...” he said with his back facing the other man. “Now’s a good chance.” Conroy answered with a hushed voice.

(The Federation will limit the authority the Spacenoids have and establish their authorities over the Side leaders, probably because they’re afraid of this truth. If all the Sides unit with each other, Earth will become a countryside that is without economic value. It will become a city with the shell of the Central Government, one without any sense of trustworthiness, a king going about naked. Zeon Deikun probably used this fact as a weapon. Once all the Sides unite together, establish an economic agreement, and exclude Earth, the Federation government will have no standing. He however was an outstanding thinker, and not a politician. The Zabi family is the same, twisting Zeonism and started a war of independence because of this. They never thought of the premise that the Federation had to recognize their independence, and can only use force to challenge.)

The nonchalant voice continued, and caused the Republic soldiers and the Gareniceres team to falter. Otto saw the invigilators focus on the wireless communicator and not look at them, and stealthily leaned his body over to Conroy. He saw the hands that were tied down by the metal wire, and deduced that it would be difficult to remove it. “You can’t undo it?” he asked quietly. “I can’t do it without a tool.” Conroy quickly whispered back.

(It’s the same for the two Neo Zeon Wars. As long as we don’t give up on making others recognize our existence, there will be no day of victory in our battle against the Federation. The Spacenoids has a huge weapon in that it supports the Earth Celestial Sphere’s economy. The reason why the Federation deliberately lets us “Sleeves” escape is because they need us to keep the gear called the military requirement running, and this is proof that the Earth economy alone is insufficient.)

Upon hearing this voice, “How radical.” Conroiy whispered. Otto looked over his shoulder to stare at the other man’s face.

“Those guys on the Garencieres are supporting the Zabi family, right? He actually denies thenm so firmly…they look like this is the first time they’re hearing this.”

Otto recalled that the invigilator calling through the wireless was Tomura. He then looked at Alec, who was holding a submachine gun as he looked up, not knowing what to do. “This is really a chilling thing to hear as a Federation person.” He honestly answered. The thought to use an economic war to strangle the Federation by the neck was something the battle for Zeonism never had in the past, and though it was easier said than done, it was certainly a more realistic plan than using violence.

“But there's no warmth.”

Liam, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up. Otto and Conroy looked at her in unison.

“While he’s talking about their future, he seems really cold and aloof. He sounds like a researcher observing an insect’s hive…what history does this man called Frontal have? He’s called the Second Coming of Char, but where is he from, and where is he headed to?”

Liam was not seriously asking as she looked into space, ostensibly facing a ghost. The chilly atmosphere spread around, and Otto focused on this overly calm voice. This cold voice ignored the faltering in the ship, and did not sound like a human as it rang through the tall ceilings of the mobile suit deck. The voice of the Second Coming of Char; the voice of someone who would kill his subordinates without hesitation—

(We’ll strengthen the relationship of the Moon and the 7 sides, and fully exclude the center, forming a donut-shaped economic ring, a co-prosperity ring built around the Sides. As long as we don’t ask for Self-independence, the Federation will not pay too much attention to the interactions between the Spacenoids. With the lead of the enterprises, each Sides will continue to build clauses and agreements that don’t seem to have any problems on first glance. After that, we’ll build a united ring with common diplomacy and security measures…)

Part 10

(Of course, this isn’t something that can be accomplished in a day. Even if we aim to ally together, we need the existence of a leader.)

(And this is where the Zeon Republic comes in…Monaghan Baharov, right?)

A gentle woman’s voice answered in response to the cold man’s voice. Takuya knew that it was Mineva’s voice, and was driven by his throbbing heart as he lift his head.

(I don’t know if Minister Monaghan has any leadership qualities, but it was his proposal to have a Side co-prosperity ring, and only the Zeon Republic can form the basis of this. Perhaps quite a few people will feel repulsed by the name of Zeon, but Minister Baharov and I don’t care about it. The important thing is to create a united body that allows the Spacenoids to fight against the Federation. The entrepreneurs and investors who are unhappy about Earth’s squeezing system will most probably volunteer to assist once there is an opportunity.)

He heard the voice that continued on in a half-conscious manner, and held onto the paper that was drenched in sweat. The paper that had a few words scribbled on it was the thing stuffed into Micott’s pocket during the commotion. He looked at the invigilators who were unable to calm down as they look at the ceiling, whispering to each other. “What do we do?” Takuya whispered. “I think we can trust her.” Micott brought her face from close by and whispered.

“It’s too unnatural, especially since she deliberately made her way to us.”

“Maybe it’s some trap?”

“There’s no benefit for her to do such a thing to us, right? I know this well.”

The strangely convicted words caused Takuya to glance at the side of Micott’s face. She showed calm after exposing her emotions, and looked afar at a corner in space.

“A woman’s lie is different from a man; it will sting. She’s serious.”

Takuya was overwhelmed by the terrifyingly serious expression, and he looked to the front. Once he confirmed the feeling of a paper only Micott and he knew of, he repeated the words written on it, and lowered his stare at the stain on the floor.

Gibney’s blood was lying on the floor in a thumb-sized stain, a stain that could not be erased, that was prompting him to remain alert and calm. Even if he wanted to do so, he would have to act cautiously. He would first have to look for help. He looked around to see the depressed looking mechanics, fearful because of Gibney’s death. Once he saw that they would not do, he looked at the rest. The members of the other departments were also seated on the floor, listening to the broadcasting carefully. There has to be someone who’s reliable here—

Found one. Takuya spotted a man at a neighboring platoon, and nudged his elbow at Micott. The latter followed his trail of vision, saw the same man, and widened his eyes slightly. “What do we do?” she whispered back. “It’s not too far away. I’ll go over and come back immediately. It’s easy to get past their eyes.” Takuya answered as he looked around. There was a distance of 5m to the group of wounded at the wall. He glanced aside at the invigilator who forgot to watch over them, and gathered strength in his feet while not letting himself float.

Gael Chan’s face was looking into space, not noticing Takuya’s stare at all. The way he straightened his back and folded his feet reminded Takuya of a great-grandfather sitting down.

(The problem is that the Republic’s self-autonomy will have to be returned very soon. If it becomes the original Side 3 and is not allowed to have self-governance beyond its boundaries of author, the fad to create a co-prosperity ring amongst the Sides will not happen. Now, our problem here will be how to extend the deadline to this dissociation. At this moment, we received an invitation from the Vist Foundation, who wanted to hand the “Laplace Box” over to us…)

Part 11

“I don’t think that Cardeas Vist knew of our plan. He probably proposed to hand over the “Box” at this time because he hated having the Federation system remain like this while the Republic dissolves. It is common knowledge that the Federation hopes to end Zeonism before that happens.”

Just like how the destroyer installation of the fable of Newtypes, the “Unicorn”, is showing. Frontal expressed these unexpected words as he suddenly looked over at Banagher, causing the latter to recover and look away.

Zinnerman and Angelo were at a loss of words, and even Mineva did not hide her overwhelmed expression. Frontal continued in a robotic and unrestrained voice that was scarier than the prosperity of the Side co-prosperity ring he was talking about, and Banagher looked back at him. It was weirder to see him say with such a serious look. What’s with this supernatural atmosphere that doesn’t feel alive—

“To us, it can be considered a blessing. This “Laplace Box” is said to be able to topple the Federation government…and if we can get it, we can ensure that the Federation will allow the Republic to coexist. If we ask for the revival of Zeon, the Federation may have no choice but to launch a full-scale war, but they may accept a request if we ask for a delay in the dissolving of the Republic. I thought it was worth a try, and wanted Zinnerman to head to the trading place, “Industrial 7”.

There was no need to ask about what happened next. Frontal did not show any fatigue from the long speech he made, and finished his words without any change in expression. Soon after the reception room became silent again, “I see. So that’s how it is.” Mineva spoke up, and she narrowed her eyes at Frontal again.

“What you wanted to get from the “Box” is time, Captain. You want to buy time to delay the dissolution of the Republic and develop the Side co-prosperity ring.”

“What you said is correct.”

Frontal immediately answered as he wordlessly prompted that it was her turn. Mineva did not answer as she sat back on the sofa and looked over at Zinnerman.

“Zinnerman, do you know of these?”

“No, I know that the sponsor of the “Sleeves” is Monaghan Baharov of the Republic however.”

Mineva followed Zinnerman’s stare at Frontal as she gave the latter an interrogating look. Frontal’s still body remained unmoved as he continued, “As I had explained, this is different from the old movements to revive Zeon. I was worried that a soldier like Lieutenant Zinnerman, who had been serving the Republic army wholeheartedly, would definitely refuse, so I withheld the important before that moment. I do apologize for that.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Once I heard everything, I felt that it’s all a stupid plan.”

Mineva answered with an adamant voice and pressed the call button on the communication button to shut it off. Frontal remained silent as he accepted her stare.

“Am I wrong? A co-prosperity ring of the Sides that excludes the Federation…instead of wanting to change the people who do not want to change, you want to ignore them. This is too distant from the dream of human renewal Zeon Deikun had. It’s too realistic and not cute at all.”

As Frontal stood without expression, Angelo showed an angry expression from behind. A killing intent that could shake the air raced through the atmosphere in the room, and Banagher’s skin under the pilot suit had goosebumps.

“It so different from the madness Char had when he wanted to turn Earth into an inhabitable planet and pull humanity up into space…even the passion levels are so different. Is this really good for the man who calls himself the Second Coming of Char?”

Mineva took a step forward as she looked up at Frontal. Her emerald eyes had a trace of heat in it, causing Banagher to sense that there was an unknown force of attraction between then.

“Once the Side co-prosperity ring happens, Earth will be isolated. The economic gap in space will increase, and like what it implies, the roles of ownership will reverse. In this case, Earth will have a replay of Anno Domini again. Earthnoids will quickly develop Earth again to support their economy. In this new era, those who grow up under poverty will try to plan revenge on Spacenoids; just like how Zeon started the One Year War.”

Frontal did not say a single word. As she faced the tall figure standing beside the red wall, Mineva continued with a clear and emotional voice,

“There’s no reconciliation, no innovation, just a future that lets the strong fight the weak…do you really think this is good? Do you, a man who decided to stand in front of others again, feel that this—”

“It’s not a question of good or bad any more, but that this is the world of humanity at work.”

The interrupting voice caused Mineva’s body to ostensibly shudder for a moment. Frontal reached his hand for the mask on the table, and said,

“I said before that I limit myself as simply a vessel. A vessel won’t think, but will only act based on the consciousness humanity implants in it.”

The mask giving off a silver gloss covered his face again. Mineva lowered her face slowly as she saw the masked face seem so distant from her as there did not seem to be any resonance amongst them, and her eyes were showing signs of faltering, “…Is that so.” Her tone had a flair of despair in it, and Banagher felt a slight ache in his heart.

“So the Char Aznable I know of is truly dead.”

These leaked words caused Zinnerman’s eyebrows to twitch. She turned her back on the wordless Frontal and sat down on the sofa. She closed her eyes, let out a sigh of probably disappointment, and her caped back sank deeply into the sofa.

““Industrial 7”, the colony builder “Magallanica”.”

Mineva spoke as she opened her shut eyes, and the melancholy from before vanished from her face. She did not look at Banagher, who clenched his fists, and continued calmly,

“That’s the final coordinates indicated on the Laplace Box.”

While Zinnerman and Angelo were taken aback, “Oh—” Frontal looked over at Banagher, who looked away; once the stare through the anti-glare filter gave a confirming look for a moment, he turned his masked face back at Mineva.

“Thank you very much. Once we rendezvous with the fleet again, we’ll immediately change our course and head for “Industrial 7”.”

“Whatever you do.”

Mineva hissed as she got up from the sofa. She did not look back at Banagher, who lowered his head, and her leather boots-clad feet advanced to the door. Banagher felt each step prodding at his chest, ostensibly testing his will, and he clenched his fists hard while remaining silent.

“Where are you going?”

“You have heard from Zinnerman before, right? I was saved by that boy quite a few times.”

She stopped in front of the door, and looked back at Banagher for the first time. The latter then lifted his head slightly,

“It’s really weird to betray a benefactor like this. Allow me to act freely after this.”

He was unable to look back at those emerald eyes in time as she turned her head away and left the room. Frontal saw the door close, and turned his stare to Angelo, saying, “Make sure the security is tight throughout.” Once he finished, he left the landscape portrait. “Yes.” Angelo got into a proper posture, gave Banagher a glance, and touched the handle to the door that was just closed. Once the back with the intent to watch over Banagher left the room, Frontal let out a sigh and sat on the sofa opposite Banagher.

“Allow me to ascertain, Banagher.”

The voice was as steady as before, but there was a toughness in the words that demanded for unconditional agreement. Perhaps it was because Mineva had revealed the location that there was no need to play any word games like assistance. Banagher looked back at the mask wordlessly.

“So the starting point is the end point; that’s certainly a classic way to fool us. It seems your father really has quite the sense of humor.”

“That’s not it!”

Banagher’s voice rang as he inadvertently called out, causing the coffee on the table to form ripples. He got up from the sofa suddenly and excluded the metal mask from his eyes.

“The final destination can be any point. What I see, what I feel before I reach it…that’s the most important thing. Even if we know the answer and reach the destination, the “Box” may not open. If it’s not someone who went through the same path and shouldered the same burden…”

He uttered out the last line while turning his face at Zinnerman. The latter’s expression wavered as he did not say anything and glanced aside. Frontal’s stare did not look away from the rooted Banagher however, “Only those who know the hard work of a journey can find the bluebird that left home.” He recited.

“That’s rather classic too.”

The twisted lips curled up, and it seemed that the entire mask was making a mockery. Banagher did not want to say anything else as he looked away.

Part 12

Another hour and so on passed after the unexpected broadcast aired to everyone, and the mobile suit regained its moment of lull. The soldiers at the wall near the starboard started to create commotion, and Gilligan moved his mouth away from the straw of the nutritious jelly.

“What is it?”

“It’s one of the guys who created the commotion with the rest of the crew. He says that his stomach’s hurting, and the army doctor’s now looking at him.”

The soldier ran to the briefing room on the neighboring deck, panting as he reported. “Stomach pain?” Gilligan asked back as he looked at the monitor showing the scenes on the mobile suit deck.

The briefing room had many monitors on the wall, and at this point, had become the restroom cum command room for the Republic army. The time was noon, and it was 4 hours into their occupation. The broadcast from before caused all personnel to tense up, but the captors and captives were certainly starting to tire. The witnessing of a prisoner being killed directly seemed to have brought about an unexpected amongst of pressure to everyone. Gilligan too felt jumpy about having to wait, “I’ll go take a look. I’ll leave the rest to you.” He said to the subordinate and went off to the mobile suit deck.

Under zero gravity, the effects of someone standing or lying were the same. He checked the faces of all the Special agents, saw that no one was lazy enough to fall asleep, and approached the group in question. There was a crew member in the middle of a group of men dressed in overalls, probably mechanics, clutching his stomach and struggling, and he looked young enough to be a teenager.

The doctor in white cloak was listening in with the stethoscope. “What is it?” Gilligan asked, and the doctor took off his stethoscope, saying,

“I think it’s a cardiogenic symptom, but his pain isn’t normal. I want to use the infirmary.”

“We have soldiers here for escort. If it’s just a stomach pain, we can handle it.”

Gilligan could not ignore the possibility that they were planning something, and he looked straight at the slightly tanned face of the doctor who seemed to be of Arabic descent as he spoke with a refusing tone. “I think he has a chronic illness.” a female crew member beside the boy then interrupted with a stiff tone,

“I think it’s some medical term that’s hard to describe, but I did hear that we must be careful if his stomach starts to hurt again…”

“Why in the world is such a guy a crew member?”

“We aren’t crew members, just civilians who got involved in the battle of “Industrial 7” and are unable to return home.”

There’s such an issue? Gilligan looked back at the crew member who could be described to be a teenage girl and the ball-shape gift robot in her hands before looking back at the doctor. The moment the doctor was about to speak up, “Don’t talk too much, hurry up and bring him to the infirmary.” another voice rang from behind, causing a ripple in the surrounding air again.

“A Republic soldier who only knows about military training can only refuse anything that’s beyond your expectations, right?”

A bald man in pajamas was gathered with the wounded beside them, showing a teasing smile as he got up. Gilligan felt hot in his chest as he took a direct hit in his weak point, and turned towards the man as he put his hand on the handgun on his waist. “Oi, don’t just stand up like that!” The invigilator Petty Officer growl as he raised his rifle while approaching the man.

“Think of how the prisoners feel about being watched over by amateurs. If you can’t make decisions on your own, go ask the “Sleeves” on what to do then. Ask them with those cool capes of yours.”

“Damn you…!”

The Petty Officer’s expression changed drastically, and he slammed the stock of the rifle into the man’s abdomen. Gilligan was unable, and did not want to stop the Petty Officer; he saw the man float into the air because of recoil. The man bent back and writhed as he took the hit in the abdomen while the torso of his pajamas revealed the bandages. At this moment, Gilligan recalled the term ‘wounded’ he forgot, and his heart jolted. “How can you do such a thing…!” the army doctor ran over to the man.

He, with the help of the group around them, let the man lie on the floor, and opened the torso in front of the pajamas. “Not good, his wounds seem to have opened.” The Petty Officer backtracked upon hearing the army doctor’s voice. What do I do? He was implicitly showing this question on his face as he looked back at Gilligan. “I’ll bring them back to the infirmary. Is that alright?” The doctor continued, and Gilligan took this sharp stare from him, hold itswallowed these words he nearly uttered out, and looked around.

The wounded were at the feet of the Petty Officer waiting for instructions, looking back with unhappy looks on their faces. The other groups have realized the commotion going on as they looked over, and the soldiers watching over them were showing obvious signs of doubts. If he were to refuse here, there would probably be an insurgency. A commander must not show signs of hesitation. Gilligan recalled this ancestral teaching and nodded to give the military doctor his approval. The doctor then carried the man immediately, “That boy needs to come too. Help out here!” The doctor growled as he kicked himself off the floor. Since there was no time to wait for soldiers to come in on active duty, Gilligan could only carry the boy who was clutching at his stomach.

“Lieutenant…”

“I’ll go along with them. Make a call through the wireless communicator and tell 2, 3 people not on active duty to head over to the infirmary.”

“Right. What about the contact with the sleeves?”

The Petty Officer asked without any show of respect, causing Gilligan to feel the heat rise in his chest again. “You’ve heard the broadcast just now.” He said as he glared back at the young Petty Officer.

“We’re the vanguard of the “Wind’s Assembly”. The “Sleeves” soldiers here don’t even know of the Side co-prosperity ring. There’s no need—to ask them for instructions.”

Unlike the Garencieres team that’s comprised of guerillas, the men of the “Wind’s Assembly” is comprised of the elites nurtured under Lord Monaghan. There’s a lack of experience, but our position is definitely nearer to the top.He recited these words to his pride that was somewhat wounded, and went straight to the nearest airlock. “It hurts…” the boy groaned, and the girl with the toy robot followed form behind.

Gilligan followed the army doctor carrying the bald man by the soldier, and got up to the elevator leading to the gravity block. Gilligan carried the boy beside him and drew the handgun at his waist. Gravity started to occur in the descending elevator, and he let the boy down onto the floor as the latter felt heavy.

The gravity he had not felt for a long time seemed to have caused the blood surging in his head out of tension and excitement to fall. Am I being too reckless to go along with them alone? He felt the difficulty of wielding a handgun in gravity and muttered in his heart. It’s always like this. I always thought that I can’t be too indecisive here; that’s why I keep making shallow decisions. I guess it’s because I was always sick when I was little, and was teased by my classmates for being unable to catch up. He thought and tapped his head twice to stop his consciousness from leaving. (Haro!) Gilligan heard this line that he should not be hearing at this time, and turned his head around.

The round discs that looked like ears flapped about, and the toy robot in the girl’s hands floated in the air. The power’s not shut off? Gilligan said, and noticed the girl’s expression looking behind him at the same time, but it was too late before he could point the handgun behind.

A hand moved at a speed blurry to the eyes as it grabbed the handgun, while another hand grabbed the collar. The face of the bald man was right in front of Gilligan. “You…!” The latter let out a suffocated voice, but the impact that exploded between the legs made him unable to breathe.

GRAK! Once the man heard the groan, he slammed an elbow into the back of the head, causing Gilligan to lose strength in his knees. Gilligan’s vision quickly turned dark, and his head hit the elevator door. They probably reached the destination level as the electronic sound rang afar while he was losing consciousness.

“I’m Gael Chan of the Vist Foundation. Remember the name.”

The elevator door opened as the man’s voice rang. Gilligan wanted to grab the communicator on his waist, but missed as he collapsed onto the floor. “Welcome back, Haro!” The girl exclaimed. (Charge!) The toy robot answered as it started jumping forward, and the sound of the men running out passed by from above. The toy robot hit the back of Gilligan’s head and hit it like a platform in a way not considered a final hit. Gilligan’s consciousness fell into a black abyss, and he heard the noise of his classmates calling him a scaredy-cat in it.

Part 13

The gravity was a weak false one made to match the Moon’s, but to a body that had been used to zero gravity, it felt like there was a dumbbell on the shoulders. Takuya ran into the long arching passage, and fell forward onto the floor; his body felt like a lead block, and he cautiously ran down the corridor. He followed Gael, who would stop at every cross junction to see if there was anyone around, and went to the infirmary together with Hasan and Micott.

If possible, bring Doctor Hasan along and head to the infirmary—the note rolled into a bundle was the basis supporting their actions here. Gael leaned on the wall in a way not affected by gravity at all, held the handgun he stole from the Republic soldier with both hands, and prompted Takuya to stand in front of the infirmary. The moment Takuya was about to open the infirmary, there was a sudden pain that caused him to bend and clutch at his stomach.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been pretending to be in pain, and now I’m really in pain…”

Takuya was hoping that Micott put her hand on his back, “Idiot.” but she simply answered back. Takuya frowned for a reason other than the pain as he knocked on the infirmary door. Once he was certain that there was no reaction, he exchanged nods with Gael and opened the door. He looked around the infirmary that had some antiseptic smell in it, and the moment he stepped in, “Who is it!?” a shout shook his head.

The man was exchanging looks as he stood at the ICU door linked to the infirmary. The pilot suit with the Neo Zeon emblem definitely belonged to that of the “Sleeves” escort squad. Takuya was immediately dumbfounded, Is this a trap after all? the moment he thought about it, “Emergency patients, didn’t you hear?” Hasan said as he stepped into the room and gave an intense stare at the escort squad member onto a doctor would have. If it were the Republic soldier from before, he would be overwhelmed by this stare, but this escort squad member did not let down his guard at all as he continued to point his gun at them, not moving at all. “Hold on, let me check.” The soldier answered and reached for the wireless communicator on his waist. Takuya and Hasan casted side glances at each other.

Gael had fighting skills that were no inferior to a soldier, but he was wounded. It seemed that there was no chance to launch a stealth attack on the escort squad member who would fire without hesitation. At this point, Gael did not even have the time to turn his head and look into the room, and Takuya continued to exchange stares with the escort squad member who was not letting his guard down. Suddenly, there was a black shadow behind the soldier. Bonk! A dull sound echoed through the room.

The escort squad member took a hit in the back of the head, and his legs went limp as he fell forward due to gravity. Gael immediately charged in and got onto the soldier, but Takuya did not see what he was doing. He merely stared at the person standing at the infirmary door, blinking blankly. Hasan and Micott, who followed in after Gael, showed the same response.

Mineva Zabi. At the moment he muttered her name, she dropped the fire extinguisher in her hands and ran over with her cape flying. She reached her hands and grabbed both Takuya and Micott. One could hear her racing heartbeat from the compressed chest.

“Thank you for believing in me…!”

After hugging them tightly, she brought her body away from them. Her slightly moist emerald eyes were different from those of Mineva Zabi’s cold and ruthless aura. She resembled the girl Banagher called Audrey, and she had the eyes of the girl they met in “Industrial 7”. After exchanging doubtful looks with Micott, “Ah, no…” Takuya scratched his head, but at this moment, “What do you plan to do next?” Gael asked. They spotted him pull the wire from the wire gun to tie the hands of the escort squad soldier from behind, and Mineva suddenly looked back at Takuya with a serious expression.

“Mr Takuya, you just had a plan with Petty Officer Gibney over something, right? Please execute it.”

Takuya’s mind recalled the last expression Gibney showed when he said that they were to activate the bow thrusters manually, and gulped in response. “Doctor Hasan, please return to the mobile suit deck and untie all the ECOAS members.” Mineva turned her sights at the doctor and said with a calm voice,

“Just hand the pliers over to one of them. They should be able to handle the rest themselves.”

“It’s too dangerous. The Republic soldiers may not be as sharp, but the people of the “Sleeves” will immediately realize the anomaly here. If they release the air on the deck…”

Gael said. Release the air to make them suffocate—Takuya understood the reason why the crew was gathered onto the mobile suit deck, and gave a pale look as he exchanged looks with Micott. “That’s why we have to be fast.” Mineva answered with an adamant voice and looked back at Gael without any signs of backing down.

“Please proceed on to save Banagher, Mr Gael. According to what I heard over the radio, it seems that he was moved to the detention room below.”

“Understood…what about you?”

The face that seemed experienced in dealing instructions to others showed hesitation for the first time. “I’ll be working together with another comrade.” She said with a somewhat lowered voice, and suddenly turned her head over. Takuya and the others looked over at the curtain that was blown up, and passed through to the door of the ICU.

The curtain was pulled aside, and once he saw Mineva’s expression as she lowered her head to look at the bed, he deeply realized the weight of the term comrade. “She’s…” Takuya heard Micott’s whisper, saw Mineva not look at others in the eyes, and turned his face at the female Neo Zeon pilot lying on the bed.

He remembered that her name was Marida Cruz. Her sleeping face was so beautiful it was dazzling, to a point where he could not believe she was the pilot of the four-winged mobile suit. “Doctor Hasan.” The adamant voice caused Takuya to lift his head.

“Please make her wake up. Inject as much painkiller you think she needs so that she can continue to fight.”

Mineva said this while looking at Marida, and Takuya, Micott and even Gael gasped as they looked at the side of her face. “But…” Mineva did not look back at Hasan, who expressed such doubt, “I’ll bear all responsibility.” She continued forcefully, lifted the hand of the still-sleeping Marida, and immediately knelt down on one leg.

“Mairda, it’s me, Mineva Zabi.”

She cupped the hand in her hands and brought it to her forehead, lowering her head in a prayer-like manner. The troubled presence seeped from her shoulders, and Takuya sensed Hasan return to the duty office from behind him.

“I know this is too much, but I hope that you can wake up. We need to fight against the monster born from our grudges. I need your power; please fight with me to prevent Zinnerman from making more mistakes…!”

The voice that was eked out passed through the caped back, causing the air to tremble. The eyebrows on Marida’s still face twitched slightly, and the fingertips cupped by Mineva moved a little.

Part 14

“Understood. Bring a few men from the Garencieres and head over. Don’t let the Republic soldiers know…right, I’ll leave it to you.”

The red uniform finished the call with Angelo, and the large body facing the communication panel looked back at Zinnerman. His attitude and the masked face were still suspicious to a point where one would want to keep staring at him. “It seems we lost contact with the guard keeping watching over Her Highness.” The voice sounded like an act, and Zinnerman gave a look at Frontal, not even bothering to give a surprised look.

“It seems the last point of contact was at the infirmary. Do you have any clues?”

“No.”

Marida’s face appeared in his mind, but in his current state, he could not think of how Marida would be involved in this current situation. The atmosphere alone with Frontal was remarkably lull ever since Banagher was brought away from the reception room, and Zinnerman felt that he was imprisoned by some fatigue. Even though he knew that he could not relax too much, he had a sense of fatigue telling that nothing mattered, that anything goes at this point. He admitted that he was tired, and that it was not the uneasiness of betrayal of the pain of the conscience pricking him. All that had been done here was making him tired, the several hours that passed since the occupation started, the one month they spent chasing the “Box”, the 16 years after the war, everything—

“I do apologize sincerely for hiding the Side co-prosperity ring from you.”

Frontal was seated at the sofa in front of Zinnerman, sounding as if he had realized what Zinnerman was thinking. The latter lifted his tired eyes.

“But I never thought of betraying the agreement to have Her Highness Mineva be the leader. I said that I don’t care about the name of Zeon, but the Zeon Republic is the only one that can be the leading country in the Side co-prosperity ring. Once we pave the path, we can make Her Highness be the leader. This is a huge position neither Minister Monaghan and I can take up.”

It was a fact that they agreed as a condition to view Mineva as the princess when Zinnerman affiliated himself with the “Sleeves”, but at this situation, he started to feel that it did not matter at all. Mineva was need to gathered the efforts of all the people related to the Principality, but she had no other value. It was the same whether she was involved in the Sid co-prosperity ring, but there was a role she could take up if there was a need. Zinnerman had no strength in hating Frontal for this implication and looked away from the masked face. “You’re not interested, right?” These words came in at this moment,

“That’s fine too. It’s because you’re like this that I let the Garencieres team act freely, Captain.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Since you were entrusted with the child, you naturally wanted to protect Her Highness, and you have the sense of responsibility to your own subordinates. But those are mere responsibilities; you never had any particular interest in reviving Zeon at all. You hated the Federation with a vengeance, but you know that this isn’t a grudge that can be cleared completely just by taking revenge.”

The eyes covered by the anti-glare filter did not seem to be reflecting light, and Frontal let his body rest on the sofa’s back.

“And thus, even if it was for a moment, you were on a Federation ship. But as time passed…no, from the moment you stepped aboard this ship, you felt that you couldn’t erase your hatred, and you did what you had to do.”

The hand reaching for the coffee was trembling. Frontal did not let Zinnerman’s eyes escape as the latter drank the cold coffee, and continued with a smile on his face,

“Activists succumb easily as they’re used to justifying themselves. However, for people like you, captain, who don’t harbor much hope in humanity and the world, it’s hardly for you to succumb because you aren’t fixed. Once you understand the innermost self within you, you’ll be the most reliable partner.”

The hands in white gloves closed up at the knees, and Frontal finished his words with an unchanging cold tone. There was no room to interject, and upon hearing this self-analysis even he could not explain, Zinnerman first showed a smile. But he did not have the courage to laugh it off; he looked into his barren inner heart while pretending that it had nothing to do with him, “You seem to be saying…that you’re the same type as well.” He answered with a hollow voice. Frontal still had a thin smile on his face, but did not answer back.

“How do you actually feel deep inside, Captain?”

“What do you think?”

“Well…I’m not very good at such word games, but I did hear of a rumor before. It was said that when the Second Neo Zeon War was about to break out, Supreme Commander Char’s plan to send a nuclear winter onto Earth was just incidental. His real intent was to fight his sworn enemy since the One Year War, Amuro Ray, and have a decisive battle.”

There was no need to play along with his pretense. Zinnerman knew very well that the moment he said it out, their relationship would never be the same again, but he still chose his words carefully. “Oh?” Frontal merely made a short reply as he kept his unmoving expression.

“I understand how he feels. He has an enemy he wants to beat, an opponent he can vent his frustrations on to feel fulfilled. He can forget his despair by chasing after the enemy. But Amuro’s dead, and Supreme Commander’s Char’s uprising was turned to nothing, yet the Earth Celestial Sphere had not changed. Even if he were still alive, what does he want to pursue this time? There’s nothing for him to compete again. The ideals of Zeon Deikun became something not worth believing. What does a sad man who felt despair for the world and humanity feel deep within him—”

“Isn’t this the same as you, Captain?”

Frontal immediately interrupted Zinnerman and got up. The lips under the mask were clearly stiff, and though Zinnerman felt that there was a sense of emotion there, he did not want to confirm as the tall and burly turned away to look at the landscape portrait on the wall, and let out a sigh. In the end, he felt the weight of the words he said return back to him. “Grudges won’t vanish…” he muttered.

His hatred for the Federation, hatred for the who that was unwilling to change, hatred for himself as he was unable to do anything—the hatred he had when his wife and child felt terror and despair as they laid dying. He wanted to crush the emotions rising up in him, but was unable to do so, “It’s true that vengeance won’t disappear that easily.” Zinnerman said as he subconsciously looked at his weak hands.

“But sometimes…I do feel tired too. It’s not emptiness, but simply tired. I’m just wriggling in the darkness, having given up on everything…”

And thus, he accidentally reached his hand out. Even though he knew that he could not handle it once it reached him, he was still attracted by that irreplaceable light. Marida, Mineva, Banagher; he saw the light remains of these names under his eyelids, and his face was contorted as he was unable to make a self-depreciating face. “That’s to be expected for a man.” Frontal said with his back turned.

“If Char Aznable is still alive…perhaps he’s no longer human?”

The line that was thrown out was stuck at the chest, causing the icy air to scatter, and Zinnerman inadvertently looked up.

The red profile giving off an inhuman presence looked like an ornament decorating the landscape portrait as it floated in front of the wall. No longer human—this isn’t a metaphor, ‘what exactly’ is this man? He’s right in front of me, but he doesn’t seem to be here; it doesn’t feel like this man’s breathing the same air as me, and where in the world is he born in anyway? Zinnerman started asking himself while ostensibly being driven by fear, but got an answer that Frontal may not be from this world, and felt goosebumps all over. Impossible, this isn’t possible. He wanted to laugh, but his stiff cheeks could not move, and the moment he clenched his fists that were about to tremble, the coffee cup on the table started to rattle as it ostensibly took the tremors from the fist.

Frontal turned his head in surprise as he heard the rattling of the porcelain. After that, a tremendous sound of impact rang from the floor, and all the coffee cups were thrown into the air. The table bounced up, covering Frontal’s body, and even the sofa was floating. Before he could get down for cover, Zinnerman tumbled onto the floor.

Part 15

This was not an impact that one could brace himself for, and the sound of the ignition was deafening; it caused an added burden to the bodies of the prisoners to inertia, and Takuya fell onto the floor of the engine floor. Micott, who fell onto the floor as well, let out a scream, while Haro dropped out from her hands and bounced around the narrow room. This was not a moment for Takuya to lift Micott up as he tried to move his mind that was sticking onto the floor, and he looked over at the console that had countless working lights on it.

The control panel for the thrusters on the bow filled the entire wall, and the thrust sign was flickering on the movement monitor. The bow thrusters near the front end were an installation used when the ship’s moving in reverse or decelerating. It was originally an automatic control that could be operated from the bridge steer, but it could be manually controlled at the maintenance engine room like this.

After 10 seconds of full speed thrust that was beyond the safety limit, the redirection nozzles let out another flare. An acceleration force of more than 1G lifted the “Nahel Argama” by the bow, and the ship was lifted by the bow thrusters that changed angles, creating a spinning effect due to the uneven inertia. The ship became a washing machine, and whether ECOAS could use this chaos to create a chance for counterattack—nobody would not after this. Takuya was about to reach his hand for Micott lying at the floor, but he was shocked by the sudden alarm.

It was the alarm indicating incoming impact, and the sharp siren common in all space ships echoed through the suppressed vibrations. “Not good…!” Takuya inadvertently muttered. “What’s going on now!?” Micott asked, but there was no time to give her an answer. Takuya climbed up to the console and brought his face to the action surveillance monitor. Once he was certain that the bow thrusters were changing its thrust direction based on his input, he switched the image of the monitor to the outside for visual. As the silver stars were moving horizontally on the screen, the moss green ship floating in space was shown on it, and Takuya widened his mouth once he saw that they were getting close.

“It’s a Zeon ship! We’re going to crash!”

Its unique shape resembled a high-heeled shoe, and it certainly was the Republic army’s Musai Kai-class cruiser. He knew that they were nearby, but he did not think that they were so close to a point where they could actually attach a bridge next to each other. “Can’t we stop!?” Micott exclaimed, and Takuya ostensibly lost himself as he looked at the console. The bow thrusters started to let out a second, and he was thrown into the ceiling.

After a tremendous impact from behind, he was thrown back to the floor because of the recoil (Danger! Danger!) Haro showed as it floated from behind the back of the head, while Micott, who was thrown into the air, floated towards the console. Takuya bent over to grab her clothes at the shoulder, yanked her back with all his strength, cupped her head with his hands, and closed his eyes shut as he await the next impact.

The floor, ceiling and walls surrounded them as they floated helplessly, spinning around in a dazed manner. The ship might hit the Zeon cruiser from the head, and this engine room will be thrown into space as well, but even so, I mustn’t let go of my hands, definitely not. He told himself as he used his entire body to embrace the warmth in his arms. Micott’s arms were wrapped around Takuya’s back, and she brought her cringing head into his chest. As the heat from the outside mixed with the body heat, a quake that made everything before seem tame in comparison overwhelmed their senses, and the impact passed through the engine, ostensibly dislocating the bones.

Part 16

The starboard of the “Nahel Argama” crashed with the Musai Kai-class cruiser “Dromi” beside it. Its bow was suddenly lifted and spun at the “Dromi” in a large arc as it was directed by its bow thrusters with its nozzles redirected, causing the ship to crash into the “Dromi” in a slanted manner.

The situation was devastatingly shocking to the “Dromi”, which mobilized its personnel to the “Nahel Argama” through launch boats and kept its distance. The Captain was unable to tell his crew to carry out evasive maneuvers, and the white ship that was closing in on them covered the windows of the bridge, causing a huge jolt that shook the hull of the “Dromi”. The “Nahel Argama” starboard hit the upper deck of the “Dromi”, crushing its main cannons, before stopping.

Luckily for both sides, as both sides were following the relative velocity of the ‘L1 Junction’, the relative velocity between both ships could be considered to be still. In the end, there was merely a scene of ships scraping each other, and not crushing each other, but the impacts the people inside felt were not to be taken for laughs. The “Dromi” was hit by an assault cruiser that was twice its weight, and was practically sent flying.

The 3 main cannons were crushed in a single blow, igniting a chain of explosions and circuit sparks; the ship took the vicious force, and was tilted greatly as it floated to the ‘L1 Junction’ direction. The keel supporting the ship had tremendous cracks on it, and the “Dromi” was in a floating state. Above it, the “Nahel Argama” momentum was negated, and may be looking still, but the “Dromi” was not the only ship in chaos.

All the unfastened items were sent flying, and the impact spread from the bow to the tail, causing all the facilities to rattle. The cylinder of the gravity block stopped working for a moment, and the objects that were originally held down by the centrifuge force were dancing about wildly in the all. The partitions of the zero gravity block let out horrifying sounds, while the light panels that were not shattered shook through the ship. Gilligan was awakened by the impact sirens, and was then swallowed by the impact that came from behind as he bounced through the passages without understanding what was going on. Angelo, who was headed to the infirmary, hit his back against the ceiling, while Flaste and company in the bridge fell off their chairs. It was the same for the mobile suit deck, as screams and growls were mixed together while the group of more than 400 people were thrown into the air.

The mobile suits were not sent flying as the hooks under their feet were latched onto the trenches on the deck, but it was different for the humans who only had magnetic soles under the feet. The prisoners that were ordered to sit down on the deck were thrown into the air without exception, and the invigilating Republic soldiers were floating about in the wide deck, their limbs swimming about for something to support on. Even if there was an order not to move, nobody could stop moving in this situation. The relationship between the watchers and the prisoners had collapsed at this point, and while everyone could only try to ensure that they were safe, the ECOAS members were the first ones to get into action.

Hasan got back from the infirmary, and the plier he handed them reached all the members’ hands; at this point, they were removing the restrains of the last man. The moment everyone else was thrown into the air, Conroy saw several figures swimming in the air, and stepped on the back of someone nearby as he swam through the air. He kicked the shoulder and backs of many crew members floating around, used the recoil to move his body, and charged right at Alec, who was holding a submachine gun. While the Republic soldiers were still lost, the Garencieres team was still sane enough to watch their surroundings, but they were no match for Conroy, who was skilled at moving under zero gravity.

He got behind Alec and used his burly arms to lock the latter by the neck. The blood in the carotid pulse was obstructed, and Alec soon fell limp. Conroy drew the wire gun from his waist and shot at the Republic soldiers that sensed this situation.

Conroy shot the wire gun towards a soldier that was about to raise his automatic handgun, and robbed the latter of the mobility of his hands. He then stacked the body of the unconscious Alec onto him and used the mass of two men to pull the body of that soldier over. The soldier that was guided glided through space, and the moment he was about to approach, Conroy slammed a quick elbow into the back of the soldier’s head. There were around 90 people watching in comparison to the 29 ECOAS members. Garity and the other men were below Conroy as their platoon had only one man watching over them, and they too kicked the walls and the other crew as they attacked their prey.

“Those who have weapons are to cover the Captain’s men and head to the bridge! The engine operator is to head over to the engine room!”

With a gruff roar, the submachine guns were thrown into the air. Otto’s momentum allowed him to get down onto the floor, “Follow me!” and he immediately flew towards the airlock. Several men attacked the invigilators, and followed Liam and the rest who had managed to get the weapons. The tremor of the ship caused by the bow thruster nozzles allowed the ECOAS to counter. This was the plan Hasan told them to get the ship back, and what was left would be the decisive moment. The gunshots that were sprayed randomly caused Otto’s heart to freeze as he passed through the airlock and left the mobile suit deck. The moment he was about to grab the lift grip on the wall, “Hold it!” a voice called out, causing him to freeze.

The Republic soldier standing on the passage raised his automatic rifle. Otto hesitated for a moment when he saw the soldier’s young face. Can I not kill him? His body felt that the opponent was still human, and he was screaming without reason. At that fatal moment when he did not squeeze the trigger, the flash of a gunshot rang through with a loud sound.

Otto instinctively closed his eyes, opened them immediately, and saw the Republic soldier with a bullet hole shot right in the middle of the forehead, bleeding. Liam lowered the rifle poking over Otto’s shoulder, “Hurry!” yelled, and moved first as she stepped on the floor. Otto saw the corpse of the Republic soldier that spun and slammed into the wall, looked over at the smoke from Liam’s gun nozzle, and grabbed the lift grip with a guilty look on his face.

“I’ll handle the back! Hurry!” Garity yelled as he chased them away, and Otto let the lift grip move at the fastest speed possible. He was a Captain that was responsible for the lives of all his subordinates, but he actually lacked such resolve. As he looked at the back of Liam, who went off first, “Sorry.” He said simply. Liam’s face turned slightly, “This is fine.” She answered while ostensibly angry.

“Just be who you are.”

Liam seemed to have said something important, but she turned her stare forward after their short exchange of looks, not allowing Otto to ask back. Otto felt the submachine gun he was holding in his hand, and turned his eyes to the path he was headed to. The gunshots continued to ring, and the most important thing to prevent any more sacrifices was to get back the ship. However, he did not know what the meaning of the term sacrifice was, and this thought was the only thing driving his unconsolidated mind.

Part 17

Soon after the ship stopped shaking, the sound of gunshots could be heard from afar, and it had become a background sound that shook his eardrums, just like the air-conditioning. Banagher was in the detention room, without any communication panel to determine the situation outside, and stuck his face at the door window. He looked through the metal window to check the situation on the passage, heard 2, 3 short dull bursts from beyond his sights, and a familiar bald head then appeared on the other side.

Before he could back away in time, the sound of the door laced with mattress to prevent self-mutilation being unlocked rang, and it sprung open suddenly. “Good thing you’re alright, Master Banagher.” he looked up at the tall and burly body turned against the light, and Gael said this as he grabbed Banagher by the arm, pulling him out of the detention room.

“I’ll open a way. Please go and activate the “Unicorn”.”

Gael pulled up the guard he knocked unconsciousness, threw the man into the detention room, and wielded the handgun with both hands again. “We’ll talk later. Hurry.” There was no time to ask Gael who was saying this, and Banagher held his breath as he ran down the corridor. After he summoned the coordinate data of the “Unicorn” in the cockpit, he was dumped into the detention room in the gravity block, ostensibly worthless. The commotion seemed to have started in the zero gravity block, and there were no other people on the way to the elevator.

“Please immobilize the enemy units in the ship. There’ll be trouble if the mobile suits start an uprising here.”

Gael finally spoke up after he operated the elevator. About what was going on, what happened— there was definitely no need to ask. He suppressed his throbbing heart, “What about the hostages?” Banagher asked. “ECOAS should be saving them now.” Gael’s reply was drowned out by the gunshots that got gradually louder, and the electronic sound indicated to them that they arrived in the zero gravity block soon after.

The door opened, and Gael swept the gun around together with his eyes, before floating out onto the passage. “Let’s go! Don’t stay too far away from me.” Banagher followed this muttering man and held onto the lift grip on the wall. The gunshots got louder the further he progressed forward, and the scattered gunpowder smile agitated his nose. He let go of the lift grip that had reached its end point, and was about to kick the wall to float to the airlock of the mobile suit deck, only to be knocked down by Gael onto the floor. Incoming bullets grazed by from above, and the sparks of impact flashed upon the wall.

Gael squeezed the trigger to counter, and immediately rolled back to retreat behind the cross junction. Some bullets flew in unknowingly, hitting the wall, and the scattered dust landed on his head. “Mr Gael!” Banagher exclaimed as he lifted his head that was looking down. The blinding gunshots caused him to narrow his eyes. “Please go!” Gael called out as he reached his handgun from behind the wall, releasing covering fire that would require a miracle to hit the enemy.

“You mustn’t let a man like Frontal make use of the “Box” and your father’s will!”

The desperate looks crossed, and Banagher sprang into action before his body could think. He kicked the floor and flew to the airlock around the cross junction. The bullets grazed by his body that was shot out like an arrow, Klang! The sound of metal clashing was reflected off the airlock door. He gritted his teeth, passed through the door, and was nearly about to crash in as he used his momentum to grab the handrail of the catwalk. The mobile suit deck was suddenly spread across his eyes.

In the space filled with both Federation and Zeon mobile suits, there were gunfire on the catwalks at the opposite wall; the sounds of gunfire in this combat caused this high place to become a battleship. The crew members that were dangling in mid-air were waving their limbs, those that got to the catwalk first fired the wire guns, and the ECOAS members were shooting to provide cover for the crew that was coming in. As for the Zeonic side comprising the Republic and the Garencieres team, they were trying to get in the way of the crew being saved while trying to get onto their own mobile suits. Several people were approaching the “Hizacks” only to be beaten back, and this process continued over and over again.

The “Geara Zulu” of the Garencieres team was being approached too; there was suppressing fire around the cockpit, and one would know without thinking the outcome of letting a mobile suit run rampant in such a cramped ship. Banagher looked around the ship from behind the handrail, and looked at the “Unicorn” standing at the bowside partition wall. There was a distance of more than 30m, and he did not have the belief that he could safely pass through with the gunfire blazing. So I can only get on through the catwalk? The moment he thought of this, deafening gunshots rang from below. Banagher immediately got down, and Conroy covered him, sweeping through with a submachine gun as he charged over.

“I’ll cover you! Go on, Banagher!”

Conroy did not wait for the reply as he poked his body out from the handrail, and the reloaded submachine gun let out a roar. The bullets gliding through the air reached the catwalk opposite, stopping the gunshots fired over to them. It’s not a question of whether I can do it or not; I have to do it. He took a deep breath, held it in his lungs, and charged out from the catwalk.

The hard feeling whizzed by above his head. He was to destroy all the mobile suit cockpits before they activate, and go out to fight against the enemy forces that were invading. He chased out all other thoughts in his mind, and extended his body over to the “Unicorn”. The white machine got gradually darker, and the opened cockpit hatch filled his eyes. As he was about to reach his hands for the hatch, his body endured the inertia and stuck itself onto the armor; at this moment, a powerful generator rang, and the heat waves that came were striking down on Banagher’s back.

(That’s enough already, Banagher.)

The heat waves burning the skin were mixed with a cold voice. Banagher climbed onto the cockpit hatch and looked behind. He could see, beyond the beam saber blade that was shaking the air, the monoeye of the “Sinanju” looking back at him.

(It’s best for you not to be reckless. Since we now know where the “Box” is, there is the option for us to burn you together with the “Unicorn”.)

The beam saber created from the sleeve cover matched the red giant’s body as it trembled slightly. This alone would could the heat waves to tremble, and the radiated air struck the deck in the form of wind. When did he…Banagher did not have the time to think about this. The beam particles could melt Gundarium alloy, and was like a furnace packed in the shape of a sword. The burning hot energy was striking down 4, 5m away, and Banagher glared back at the “Sinanju” monoeye. He took in the heat waves that burned his lungs, clenched his fists, and turned his back on the cover of the cockpit hatch the beam saber was pointed at.

I may be vaporized the next moment until even my bones are gone, but it’s fine. This is the only man I don’t want to succumb to. He was driven by this unknown source of stubbornness, and wanted to move to the cockpit. (What do you want to do?) Frontal’s voice rang from behind, and the heat from the beam saber closed in as it blew Banagher’s hair.

(Once you deny us, how do you plan to use the “Laplace Box”? Are you going to believe in the kindness of humanity and hand it over to the Federation?)

It was a question that was left till now; Banagher’s heart was pumping wildly, and his body was unable to move. He turned his stiff neck and looked behind again. The distortion of the air was caused by the heat of the beam source, and the red giant’s monoeye looked like it was swaying.

(A human’s heart is fragile. The crew on this ship will forget about the “Box” once they return back to their duties. If the Federation gets the “Box”, the distorted world till now will only continue. Isn’t this against the wishes of your father, who wanted to change the world?)

The pointed beam saber remained unmoved, and behind the “Sinanju”, the massive purple mobile suit, Angelo’s “Rozen Zulu” was shaking. Perhaps Conroy and company’s resistance was weakened due to the initiative the “Sinanju” took right at the beginning. Banagher saw the monoeyes of the mobile suits, including the Garencieres “Geara Zulu” which stepped off its hangar, and moved his immobile body onto the “Unicorn” armor.

(We’re the only ones who can use the “Box” and fulfill the wishes of the Spacenoids that were practically abandoned. It’s because your father knew this that he wanted to hand the “Box” over to us. What can you do? How do you want to use the power of the “Box”?)

The “Sinanju” monoeye wavered in the distorted hot eye, twisting about in a mocking manner. Banagher saw the gunfire behind it, and he could visualize the familiar figures that were battling.

Conroy was overwhelmed by the activated “Geara Zulu”, but had not given up on saving the crew members who were still in space. Gael was running past the passages with gunshots firing. Otto, Liam and the rest were having a gunfight near the bridge. Takuya and Micott, and of course, ‘she’—these people recognized that they were fighting on their own battlefields, racing through them, but what were they fighting against? Banagher wondered. It was certainly not for the Federation, as this ship was already beyond the command of the Federation army.

Get the ship back, get the initiative, this is the only thing we can do to survive—but that’s not all. Humans will change, and they can. They can blend in and evolve according to the changes, making progress bit by bit. The people on this ship all made contact with this possibility, standing on the edge of the world, using whatever they can do to face the changing possibilities. They feel angry at the possibility that was denied, something that brought about despair. Everyone’s fighting the common enemy, driven by their human instinct to reject anything illogical.

This was the key; these were the words that existed in his heart from the moment he decided that he was going to believe her no matter what. Banagher again embraced these words and looked up at the “Sinanju” monoeye. Maybe he would be betrayed, maybe it was just his misunderstanding, but the god called possibilities in the human heart was born out of trust and continuous trust. The moment humans were imprisoned by despair and admit that they were abandoned, they could only face the world with pains all over them. Father knew this, and that’s why he wanted to open the seal of the “Laplace Box”, to send a ripple down the deadlock called stability, before the fad of revolution cools, before the Universal Century sinks into complete forsakenness. He believes that there’s still room to improve this world.

This gentleness and power of humanity he wants to show the world—it may be just those, but if nobody believes, nothing will happen. He believed ‘her’, he believed in the possibility that this ship may get it, and he believed in handing the “Box” to a real Newtype. That man’s kindness believes that this grand and stupid plan can be—

“…For the sake, of everyone.”

Banagher unwittingly said it out, and looked straight at the masked face through the “Sinanju”.

“I’ll use the “Box” for everyone, not between Federation and Zeon, and not between space and Earth. I’ll use the “Laplace Box” for everyone—

The beam saber closed in, pressing a wall of heat on Banagher, vaporizing the following words. (What do you mean by ‘everyone’?) This question passed through Banagher’s heart, and he sensed that this question was scorching his skin more than the heat.

(A single human will never become a spokesperson for all the wills, unless you become a vessel.)

The masked expression looking through the monoeye was pressing on the body leaning on the “Unicorn” armor. Banagher tried his best not to look away.

(This isn’t something that can be done easily. If you want to be a vessel, you need to empty yourself. Only when you’re devoured by the abyss of space, passed through the stage of madness, and entered the next realm, can you reach this state.)

The voice seeping out from the red armor was dripping through the pores. Banagher sensed that the ‘vessel’ Frontal was talking about was a reference to ‘God’, and gulped.

(You do have talent, but you are too young. If you really want to become a vessel, follow me.)

The “Sinanju” lowered its beam saber, and its advising look was flickering on the monoeye. The heat waves scattered away, and Banagher felt a chilly wind surround his body.

(The beliefs and possibilities you trust in now will be betrayed one day. A Newtype leeched by despair will only self-destruct or shut himself in. I’ve seen so many examples of this. You cans still make it now, however, so follow me. You should be able to understand that you can’t return to the ‘everyone’ you speak of.)

Banagher suddenly felt a sharp pain deep in his chest. It was the pain riddled deep within his heart, the pain of the heartfelt words hitting home. Banagher felt the icy wind rob him of his warmth, and lifted his head to look at the “Sinanju”. This is a fact too—this man’s describing himself; maybe I as someone else was a reflection of him.

Only the people filled with despair in their flesh and blood can understand the logic of humanity, and get the power to change the world. This euphoria is just for a moment, and defenseless belief will only bring about self-destruction or self-shutdown…will I be coerced to death by despair, or will I seal myself deep inside my heart while being unable to do anything? Banagher’s body trembled as he was unable to find anything to deny these words. He merely looked up at the eye of the red giant, felt an illusion of being sucked in by the light, only for a 3rd voice to ring through his mind.

—Keep saying ‘even so’, Banagher.

A ‘voice’ formed a fresh gust of wind as it blew through his mind. It passed through the floor and burned the mobile suit deck floor in the form of physical heat. The scorching metal color spread around the feet of the Sinanju, and the red hot light flew out from the inside in an instant; currents of hot winds and explosions stood at a corner of the deck.

(Funnels…!?)

Frontal ostensibly cried out as he sat in the “Sinanju”, which took an impact. A fire pillar shooting out like a volcano reached the ceiling, and Banagher saw a round small object popping through the scorching torrents, using its thrust to glide through the air. The object that was no more than 3m in size dodged the horizontal sweep from the “Sinanju”, shot out vernier flares to restrain movements, and glided into the clutches of the red giant. The cannon at the tip of a funnel aimed at the “Sinanju” cockpit, stopping the red machine from swinging its beam saber.

Similarly shaped objects passed through the smoking hole on the floor—and funnels started coming out one after another. The automatic funnel array was controlled by psycommu from afar, passed by the crew members that were still in detention, passed through the space on the deck, and instantly surrounded the two “Geara Zulus”, sealing their movements. The “Rozen Zulu” was behind them, and moved its monoeye from side to side frantically. Banagher did not wait for the funnels to dodge the claws that were swinging in a fly-swatting manner and aim at the cockpit as he kicked the armor of the “Unicorn” and went right at the cockpit.

He passed through the hatch, sat on the linear seat, and felt the generator rumbling from below the deck. It’s coming, he predicted as he looked at the partition wall through the hatch. The floor at the front wall was opened, and the elevator leading to the factory below rose up. As the “Rozen Zulu” retreated, the giant appeared as it was ferried up by the elevator, its overwhelming mass shaking the atmosphere on the mobile suit deck.

The 4 large pod binders equipped on the shoulders covered the giant in the middle without any openings, and the thick legs that were knelt down got up slowly. The binders opened like petals, and the thick machine with stout limbs at the ends and the Neo Zeon crest engraved on the chest was revealed. The head hiding the Mohawk head was lit under the lights, and Banagher called out to the owner of the ‘voice’ with all his strength.

“Miss Marida…!”

The monoeye flickered, ostensibly responding, and the large frame of the “Kshatriya” took a step forward once the elevator stopped rising.

This 4-winged giant was kept in the ship’s factory ever since it was taken back from “Palau”. Though there were many scars of battle on it, but its movements were not as slow as a wounded. The fact that it made the mobile suit deck look narrow just by appearing did not change. Leaving aside the “Geara Zulu” that was the size of an ordinary mobile suit, even the “Rozen Zulu” that was of similar mass to the “Kshatriya” staggered as if overwhelmed, and moved aside for the latter machine.

The funnels floating in the air moved about agilely, aiming at the mobile suits that were thinking of firing. The “Kshatriya” blew apart the thick smoke swaying about as it moved to the center of the deck, and suddenly stopped there. With all eyes staring at it, the deep green machine let out ‘her’ voice, causing Banagher to feel his gulped air stuck in his throat.

(Notifying all soldiers of Neo Zeon and the Republic of Zeon, this is Mineva Lao Zabi.)

Part 18

(Drop your arms immediately and retreat from this ship. The developments Full Frontal described of do not have a kind future, and it’s too distant from the ideals of Zeon. As a member inheriting the Zabi bloodline, I do not allow for any vengeance upon revenge. We’re living in a blank as a result of the One Year War and the past Neo Zeon Wars.)

Gilligan passed through the mobile suit deck, and walked onto the catwalk; even if he did not want to see it, the large frame of the mobile suit was in his eyes. He stood blankly and did not let his feet stick onto the floor, causing him to float around aimlessly.

The large mobile suit with 4 wings had scars all over it, and the sleeve on the right arm was burnt off, but the pressure it gave off was not to be underestimated. More than 10 funnels were deployed in the air, and it seemed that it had completely dominated the atmosphere on the deck. “Mineva Zabi…why?” Gilligan muttered as he stared at the four-winged. The head seemed to be at his vision, and had Mineva inside. The princess of the Zabi family, who was basked in the cheers of Sieg Zeon as she adamantly appeared, did she deny our actions by riding on a Neo Zeon unit—

The Special Forces standing aside let down the automatic rifles in their hands and backtracked. Several other soldiers lowered their weapons, showing faltering expressions as they were rooted in fear. “Oi, you guys! What in the world are you doing!?” Upon seeing them like this, Gilligan grabbed a Leading Seaman by the collar, “Her Highness Mineva…” who merely replied as he did not look back. “SO WHAT!?” Gilligan roared as he forcefully shook the Leading Seaman.

“That Mineva’s a fake, or maybe she’s saying such things while being threatened by the Federation! Can we hold back now that we’re at this stage!? WE, THE “WIND’S ASSEMBLY” IS HERE TO SAVE OUR COUNTRY…!”

He roared with his trembling voice as he said this to himself. At this point, there’s no way we can return back to the Republic army. I haven’t had any heroic exploits I can be proud of in the military meetings. Am I going to testify that we thought we occupied a Federation ship, but I got knocked unconscious in a sneak attack, the situation changed during that moment, and I snuck back quietly?

It doesn’t matter what Frontal hopes for. The important thing is to save our country; in the face of the Federation that wants to uproot our name of Zeon from this war, the people should unite and protest, and we’re the vanguards. Gilligan repeated in his mind again as he glared at the 4 winged mobile suit. Its monoeye seemed to detect this stare as it looked back (To the soldiers of the Republic Army, I can understand your anger.) Mineva’s voice rang.

(I understand very well the difficulty of being the vanguard of a dishonest country, the hatred of being belittled, and the hardy lifestyle of being on the run. But this is the result of the past Zeon actions. Even if you try to justify the past, you’ll never get any self-pride back. If you can’t forgive the pretense of a country that calls itself peaceful, try and think of how to turn this lie into truth. The Principality of Zeon endured the hardships of war, and yet it can do it. Even though it lost its name of its country, its real inheritance is to go for a peaceful ideal. And you people are escaping from the difficult battle of protecting this inheritance. As warriors of Zeon, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Her Highness…that’s her Highness Mineva…!”

The Leading Seaman groaned in a fever-like trance, pushed Gilligan’s hand away and ran off. “Oi…!” The soldier did not respond to Gilligan’s call, who saw him run through the airlock without looking back; he did not have the strength to catch up, and stood rooted. Turn the lies of a peaceful country into truth? Escaping from a difficult battle? What’s she saying? Ignore he mockery of those who insist that we’re a fallen country, and yet not abandon it? What exactly is wrong here? Just when he was unable to think, the light in front of his eyes suddenly darkened. (Squad leader Gilligan, it’s time to retreat for now.) The voice that came through the speakers rang, causing him to lift his head dully.

(Our forces are reduced to a third here, and the remaining ones are running back to the launch boats on their own. It’s about time for us to leave.)

Sub-Lieutenant Keiman’s “Hizack” reached its left arm out. Gilligan looked at the funnel sticking behind it, turned his stare at the four-winged that was watching all the movements in the deck, and lowered his head upon realizing that he had no chance of winning, “But just like this…” he choked head while unable to gather enough strength to clench his fists. (Let’s return to the mothership and regroup.) Keiman’s voice continued.

(The “Gultoppr” and the “Dromi” are still around. If we can launch a hit on the outside of the “Nahel Argama” before it recovers. Then we’ll meet up with the approaching “Sleeves” fleet again.)

These words felt like a spider web thread dangling in the darkness. “Ye…yeah. that’s right.” Gilligan instinctively answered and leapt into Keiman’s manipulator, ostensibly relying on it. Doesn’t this guy feel anything after hearing Mineva’s words? This instinct passed through his mind, but his thought not to regret upon what he decided was stronger, and Keiman brought him to his “Hizack Custom”. The funnel next to Keiman’s unit did not seem to be interested in those that were leaving, and the sieve-shaped mobile suit floated in the air.

(The people of the Garencieres team are to keep their guns again. We’ll work together with the people from the Federation again; I don’t think you wanted to do so right at the beginning, if you had nary tried to believe in a single possibility, there is no way you would have rode on this ship.)

Part 19

“I’m the same in that I can’t believe in this possibility completely. Even if I had known that it would have ended up like these, there are no words I can say to stop you. However, someone still believes, he still wants to believe in us. I hope everyone knows and respond to his sincerity; this is the final ‘light’ that was granted to me.”

Light. This term poked at Marida’s tense skin, causing her mind that was not completely focused on the psycommu to look outside.

It was the “Kshatriya” cockpit she was used to, and Mineva Zabi was saying these words on the assistance seat. There was no stranger combination than this, but Mineva’s words soothed her inner heart that was aching, ostensibly because of the bad sleeping posture. She felt a warm breath of life inject into her slightly aching body and spread throughout. The Princess seems a little different from before, Marida thought as she thought about what she was doing in a corner of her consciousness.

She felt she had a very long dream before she was guided by Mineva and returned to the cockpit of the “Kshatriya”. She had a nightmare where she was driven by rage that continued to drive her and clashed blades with Banagher’s “Unicorn Gundam” many times—but the ending was very warm. A pair of hands reached out from the ‘light’ and pulled her out from the darkness. Was that a dream, or was it my real memory? Or is this a continuation of my dream…?

“I suppose the grudges and distrust of the Federation won’t be erased that easily, but what we should really hate are some people who intend to use this hatred. They hail the revival of Zeon, the release of Spacenoids, but they never believed in anything, and they do not have love. They’re some existences that mocks the possibilities in humanity, denies its evolution and reconcillation.”

A monoeye lit up, indicating the activation of a Hizack-type mobile suit, and it passed through the shutter leading to the aft with an allied machine, not showing any killing intent at all. Marida sensed that they were planning to leave the mobile suit deck, and called back the funnels that were aimed there to deploy them around her unit. She continued to control the funnels and aim at the cockpits of the mobile suits she could see in front, the “Sinanju” and the purple mobile suit giving off sharp killing intent through its armor,. As long as she controls the output of the shots, the ship would not take too much damage. Even if Evan and Kwani’s “Geara Zulu” want to resist, she could deal with the “Sinanju” and the purple mobile suits before then.

The tensions and doubts before than became a ripple that caused her senses to run amok the battlefield. It was not a dream, this was reality, and the moment her mind affirmed this again while it was starting to become clear, Marida continued to listen to Mineva’s words. The tone the Princess used was different from what she used in the past. Even if their wills were as firm, she knew that Mineva’s voice was never this gentle…

“Those who despair about the current reality have no rights to talk about the future. The future is merely the result of today, and if we continue to stop in the darkness, the future we hope for will never come. If we don’t walk to the ‘light’, we’ll—”

(Marida Cruz)

A familiar voice rang inside the cockpit, and Marida sensed Mineva shudder as the latter held onto the portable wireless communicator. The switches in Marida’s mind were switched, and she felt her thoughts that were around 1 second earlier scatter as her widened eyes stood still like a puppet.

(Open the cockpit and undo the funnel controls)

This voice was not of the owner of the hands that pulled her out from her nightmare—even if it was a voice from the same body, even if it was the voice of her master. Once she realized it was her master’s orders, Marida’s body moved instinctively, and she moved her hands from the ball shaped controls. “Marida, you mustn’t!” Mineva stood up from the assistance seat and exclaimed; there seemed to be a scorching heat from the arm under the pilot suit that was grabbed, causing her a pain inside her heart that was different from the physical pain. However, Marida’s body and mind was merely ignoring such things as she got into standby mode; she pulled Mineva’s arm aside and pulled the lever of the cockpit hatch.

The monitor panel in front slid open, and the external air blew in and upon their faces. “Zinnerman, you’re still…!” While Mineva continued to hold onto the wireless communicator, Marida waited for the next instruction. She knew very well that her master was on this mobile suit deck, and though she remained silent, she wanted to express her heart that seemed to be crushed. If he’s in pain, why… this was not something she could ask. She had no rights to step into her master’s inner heart; she was to hope for what her master hopes for, and she was to take part in battles where she was to fight her master’s enemies. If this was giving her all, she could only share his pain—

“Marida, pull yourself through. This isn’t Zinnerman’s true thought.”

Mineva got up from the assistance seat, got in front of Marida, and said so. The light shining in through the cockpit hatch was blocked, and Marida moved her eyes slightly.

“You should understand, right? Zinnerman’s hurting now. It’s your turn to help him; you’re the only one who can save him.”

Mineva placed her hand on Marida’s shoulder and poked her body over the console. The shining light from behind created a lining beside her, and the image of Zinnerman, her master appearing in that light as he stood away from the light shining into the dark underground room, overlapped with Mineva’s at this point. “Light…” Marida inadvertently muttered. The ‘light’ that saved me, the arm that pulled me from my nightmare—daddy’s arms.Mineva’s expression was becoming brighter, “Right, you have to be Zinnerman’s ‘light’—the moment her lips moved, the light shining into the cockpit suddenly got darker, and a tremendous impact hit the “Kshatriya”.

The metal let out a deafening sound, and Mineva’s body was thrown out of it. Marida wanted to reached for Mineva, but was unable to grab her; she held the ball controls again to adjust the machine that had crashed into the partition, and looked at the source of the pressure.

The machine that was as large as the “Kshatriya” stood there and the purple mobile suit moved its monoeye and glared over. It charged over because it knew the funnels were removed. Marida saw the arms equipped with the sharp claws shaking; the arms charged for Mineva, who was thrown out of the machine, and Marida immediately gave the funnels on standby the command to shoot. The funnels flew with the wind moved together and surrounded the purple machine. It was not difficult for her to shoot through the cockpit before the claw pincer Mineva, but…

(Hold it.)

A voice that suddenly came in through the communicator stopped the movements of the funnels. (Stop it. This is an order.) The voice that was released probably did not understand what it was trying to stop. Marida could only obey the order, and she sensed the source of the common pain reach its breaking point as she started to look for her master in her reality vision.

Her master—Zinnerman, was harboring a heart that was about to be crushed, sitting back and waiting for Mineva to be mistreated. It’s my turn to help you, it’s my turn to be your ‘light’. Marida repeated these words in her heart as she tried to exert strength into her hands holding onto the ball controls. Her resisting body started to cackle, her fingers were practically unable to move as they trembled like a leper, and a scream that was without voice filled the cockpit of the “Kshatriya”.

Part 20

The three claws grabbed Mineva, who was tossed into the air, and acted like claws of a wild beast that caught its prey. Banagher inadvertently let his body move forward, but was blocked by a beam saber that was shining from the side, causing him to exert strength in his fist holding the control stick until it turned white.

The “Sinanju” held the beam saber to seal the “Unicorn” moves as it silently waited for the movements of its subordinate. Banagher saw the funnels point in another direction as they floated in the air. “Miss Marida, make him stop!” He exclaimed at the “Kshatriya”, but there was no response. The “Rozen Zulu” that got Mineva looked over in place of the 4-winged unit that was kneeling on the deck and cringing. Mineva, who was clasped by the claws, was like a worm that could be crushed with a single finger. The sharp claws were poking at her abdomen and back, pressing down on the body that was not wearing even a normal suit.

(You said it’s for everyone’s sake? Banagher Links?)

The hideous voice came from the purple mobile suit. Lieutenant Angelo, Banagher wanted to call out, but his voice was frozen still, and his hand on the control stick froze.

(What kind of joke are you making? You don’t even know the pain of having something being taken from you. Does your everything here include me!?)

The large body of the “Rozen Zulu” raised Mineva to the front and took a step closer. Its hooks under the heels sank into the notches, and the footsteps of metal shook the air, causing Mineva’s body to jerk backwards as she was exposed to this tremor. A little scream rang from the wireless communicator she held onto, and Banagher felt his hairs stand. Even if it looked to be a mere tremor, it was a painful interrogation to Mineva, who was held down by the claws. They cut into the body, ripping her cape and clothes, and may had crushed her rips. (Stop it, Lieutenant Angelo!) (This is too much!) the two “Geara Zulus” too faltered as they took a step forward, and Kwani and Evan’s voices rang. (SHUT UP!) Angelo roared, and the monoeye glaring at the “Unicorn” remained unmoved. The “Rozen Zulu” again took a step forward, and Mineva’s groan of agony agitated Banagher’s ears.

(ANSWER ME, BANAGHER LINKS! DO YOU DARE TO SAY SUCH WORDS IN THIS SITUATION!? CAN YOU SAY SUCH WORDS IN THIS SITUATION WHEN THE MOST IMPORTANT THING TO YOU IS BEING CRUSHED!?)

Mineva’s pain reached Banagher, who sensed the pain beyond the physical pain of her body being ripped, and turned a pleading look at the “Sinanju”. He hoped the calm voice could stop Angelo and end this misery, but the “Sinanju” merely pointed its beam saber at him as it remained silent. It all depends on you. Make your answer, Banagher. The voice under the mask reached him in the silence as its owner did not soil its hands, spiking into the boy’s mind, which then fell into panic, creating a certain icy thing in it.

It was chilly enough to freeze his body and mind, but was also a fireball that could burn him and everything around them—is this hatred? Is that the embodiment of the feeling that made Mahdi Garvey mad and kept clinging onto Zinnerman? His heart was pulsating away, grrr… the “Unicorn” growled. The psycoframe gave off a light, and he felt an attacking color enter the cockpit as he gave up on thinking.

It’s pointless now. It’s useless to talk with these people. If this malice and hostility can rip through enemies, then even if my body’s burned up—

(Stop…it…Banagher.)

The voice that came from the abyss of pain shot through the core of his chest like an arrow. Banagher’s foot that was stepping onto the pedal unconsciously was trembling, and he recovered before looking up.

(This, is created, by us…you aren’t the one, who has to fight.)

The body that was rid of its freedom brought itself up slightly, and she used both hands to press against the claws pressing down on her cleavage. The light of the psycoframe got weaker; Banagher felt the roar of the “Unicorn” fade away, and he stared at the cape that was fluttering with the wind, showing that will of hers. (Zinnerman…) Mineva let out a painful breath and continued her interrupted voice.

(This is, the result of what, we caused…the Red Comet here, isn’t Char; just a hallucination born from, our grudges.)

The beam saber right in front of Banagher was shaking slightly, indicating that the “Sinanju” was faltering. (PRINCESS MINEVA! IF YOU THINK I’M JUST MAKING A THRE—!) Mineva’s voice interrupted Angelo’s roar, (Wake up…!) and a forced voice rang through the communicator.

(Marida’s here, and yet, you can’t shake off your ghosts? Take, responsibility, Zinnerman…!)

An anguished voice spread through the deck, bringing pressure to the enclosed space. Banagher was ostensibly crushed by this pressure, and spotted someone swaying as he stood up at a corner of the catwalk.

The profile had his stare lifted as he looked at the giants that were in a standstill. He looked as small as a bean, but this body in the shape of Zinnerman was obviously showing doubt on the all-view monitor, and Banagher looked at him without adding on with anything.

Part 21

The “Rozen Zulu” grabbing onto Mineva remained unmoved as its monoeye looked around with a timid expression. Perhaps it was trying to look for him, but Angelo’s hotheaded state would make it impossible to find him. In contrast, Mineva was very calm, probably because she knew where he was. Even if he did not appear in her eyes, Mineva could have consciously discovered the despicable man who was hiding in this corner of the catwalk, observing the proceedings and giving a chiding look.

The hallucination formed by grudges.Zinnerman recalled the words that were left at his ears, and looked at the “Sinanju” through the handrail of the catwalk. It was just as what Mineva had said; no matter the true aim of Full Frontal, there was no soul of Char Aznable there. It was just as the man himself had said, he was the vessel of the Spacenoids’ will—a vessel that was meant to be injected with hatred. This was something he knew right from the beginning but even though he knew, he continued to help Frontal and joined the “Sleeves”. It was something he had to do; no matter whether Frontal was Char or a monster, nothing mattered as long as the military ranks could be reorganized again.

He was not dreaming for the revival of Zeon, and he was not fighting to earn the food for his subordinates. He just wanted to use something else to ease the pain, the pain of living on, the pain of having his grudges haunting him, the pain of being used as a living dump as he dealt with things more important than his life, the pain of struggling on. He could only continue on in order to forget the pain of his world being destroyed that could not be erased. As he continued to walk on, he finally made it here.

What’s wrong about this? What else can I do? Zinnerman reached into his clutches, and took out a photo from a pocket he had never rummaged into. It was a photo of him before he embarked on his battles, when his skin still had shine, Fee who was standing beside him and smiling, Maree who was just past 5 years old. He looked at the photo he kept for countless years, and used his fingers to touch the face of his smiling daughter.

Maree’s little hands; whenever he returned home, she would run over to him with a beaming face, and whenever he was to rejoin the force, she would cry and stick to Fee. Now you’re asking me to work together with the guys who crushed that one and only warmth that inherited my bloodline? The one precious treasure I had in the world? Stop joking around. If the past can’t be changed, the present won’t change either. The possibility of reconciliation, Newtypes, these are all nonsense. I didn’t hear their screams; I was eating my meals, using the toilet, living the life in a prisoner camp, and I wasn’t around when they needed me most, I couldn’t do anything. This is unforgivable, unreasonable. Even if I want to die together with my ghost, only this grudge and regret—

(…Daddy.)

A mumbling voice rang through the communicator and reached Zinnerman’s ears, causing his finger that were stroking Maree’s face to turn numb.

(Can you forgive me of my stubbornness…?)

The voice was steady, but there was a heat sensation that showed she was not willing to back down at all, causing his sights to turn dark in an instant. His inner heart was then twisted by something, causing the suppressed things to collapse. The voice rang in his heart, he lost his footing, and his body floated in zero gravity.

What are you saying? Why are you saying this in such a voice? I just said all those on the “Garuda” in a panic. That’s just some impulsive rambling from a man who did not want to experience the feeling of loss again, and decided not to have anything— the words in his heart did not become a voice as a hot liquid flowed out from his eyes. Zinnerman did not know what to do as he looked at the daughter on his photo.

What’s there to be forgiven? I’m the one who needs to beg for it. I haven’t done anything, and I never thought of wanting to do anything. I just turned the 16 years of lies to my daughters while I hid in the shadows. You’re still willing to call such a man, such a father…

“…I allow you.”

That’s if I still have the right. Zinnerman held onto the photo tightly, turned his tear-filled eyes at the “Kshatriya”, and brought his mouth to the communicator as he said his last words.

“Follow your heart. This is the final order I’m giving you.”

(Understood, master.)

Marida answered with a light smile, and the binders of the “Kshatriya” pulled its binders up. The sub-arms from the front poked up, and a beam saber flashed as the explosive light expanded through the deck with heat waves.

The bright and intense light looked to be burning the darkness inside the body. Zinnerman was unable to react to the unexpected situation, and the dazzling ‘light’ engulfed him in it completely.

Part 22

The beam saber flashed by, catching the right arm of the “Rozen Zulu” by slicing it up from below. (What…) Angelo murmured; the hand claws grabbing Mineva flew out, and Banagher’s body instinctively probed forward.

“Audrey!”

The restrain of the claws was loosened, and Mineva—Audrey was thrown into the air. Mega particles from the funnels were fired behind her to cover, and though the output was low, the buzzing electric sounds shook the machine, creating rising flames of explosion from below the feet of the “Sinanju”. Banagher let the “Unicorn” move forward, and it passed by the red giant that lost its balance. He opened its cockpit hatch, and fixed his eyes on Audrey in the midst of the blowing hot wind.

“Banagher!”

The face looking back showed, and the caped body blown by the storm reached her hands out. “Please, “Unicorn”!” Banagher said these words, and kicked himself from the linear seat to fly out from the cockpit. He opened his arms wide and raced in the sky to catch Audrey’s body that was gradually approaching. Once he was certain that the mass was in his arms, they embraced each other, and were blown away by the heat waves before the “Unicorn” leaped and approached from behind.

He hugged Audrey by the head, trying his best to shrink himself. The white machine suddenly covered them, and an incoming pressure felt like it was going to crush them, causing him to feel goosebumps. The next moment, their bodies were sucked into the rectangular cockpit hatch, and they dropped into the linear seat while ostensibly falling in. Banagher endured the inertia and mass as he caught Audrey in the chest, closed the hatch, and held onto the control again.

The heat wave was interrupted, and the sweet aroma he had a whiff of several hours again chased aside the smell of ozone from the beam saber. After checking the smell and chest of Audrey Burne, Banagher resisted the urge to bury himself in the hair in front of him, “Are you hurt?” he focused his consciousness on the surroundings. He saw the “Rozen Zulu” swing its remaining arm as it was tossed around by the intersecting funnels, and Audrey shook her head at this moment, her stare showing an intense light at close right.

“Banagher, to think that you really believe in me…”

“Of course.”

Banagher looked back at the somewhat moist eyes, and answered with a seemingly angry voice. “Behind you…!” Audrey exclaimed, and Banagher’s spine instinctively piloted the machine and turned it around.

The beam saber flashed on its own as it shot out from the sleeve, blocking the beam saber the “Sinanju” swung down. The beams clashed with each other, and the flashes and noise shook the cockpit. (Our plan was unexpectedly thrown into complete disarray.) Frontal’s voice entered Banagher’s ears, and this voice full of amusement caused him to sense Audrey’s tense body.

(This place is too cramped. We’ll have a duel in front of the “Laplace Box”.)

“What…!?”

(It’ll be a race from now on, Banagher.)

The clashing beam suddenly disappeared, and the “Unicorn” lost its balance as it missed its slash. The “Sinanju” used that moment to slam the unit, knocking the “Unicorn” aside, and lit the thrusters on its back to fly towards the aft. With the thrust pressure, it pushed aside Evan and Kwani’s “Geara Zulus” before passing through the shutter of the partition wall.

“Are you playing around!?”

If Banagher were to use the Beam Magnum, he would create a large hole through the “Nahel Argama”. He lowered the rifle he wanted to raise, stepped on the pedal, and heard anything sound from the communicator. (Why would we be running?) The flashes of the hits appeared at his feet, and the cables buried under the floor let out sparks. The “Rozen Zulu” was left with one arm, and it shot suppressing fire from the front of that arm as it followed the “Sinanju” through the shutter, shooting the emergency airtank beside the door like it was giving a parting gift. The flames and storm shook the mobile suit deck, and the “Kshatriya”, which wanted to chase after them, was surrounded by smoke.

(I’ll kill you next time.)

A bone-chilling malce shot through the monoeye that was flickering through the smoke. The shutters on the partition wall were quickly sealed off, and the “Sinanju” and “Rozen Zulu” disappeared together from the deck. The air from the purifier caused the flames and smoke to remain as if under gravity, and the shutters were tightly sealed as they were covered by pitch black smoke.

Frontal’s objective was clear. He intended to leave the ship deck just like this, meet up with the other escort squad machines waiting outside, make contact with the approaching fleet, and head forth to “Industrial 7”. However, Banagher could not make pursuit with Audrey on board, and he did not know of a place for her to immediately alight with all the flames and smoke abound as the “Unicorn” stood on the burning deck, not knowing what to do. Audrey, who was on his knees, grabbed the pilot suit by the chest. “Banagher, you mustn’t hand the “Box” over to Frontal like this.” She said whilst giving an urgent look back.

“The Side co-prosperity is simply an illusion. That man may really destroy the world if he gets such great power.”

“I got it. I won’t let him.”

The unmasked face still felt like a mask, the cold expression of forcing the notion of giving up to someone; those were not thoughts for the sake of humanity’s future, and there was no sign of pity to others or himself. It was a demon’s eye that was looking at this world from the outside, one without zeal. Marida, Zinnerman, Audrey; Banagher was able to think calmly because of the resonating warmth of their calls, and with their support, he put on the helmet in the cockpit. He thought in his heart that there was no time to hesitate. “Captain Otto!” he called out with a voice no softer than all the voices ringing through the communicator.

“Please turn to “Industrial 7”. The “Laplace Box” is over there!”

Part 23

(Frontal knows about it. Hurry. It’ll be bad if he gets the initiative!)

Banagher’s voice rang through the open channel, causing Liam, and even Flaste, who had the gun pointed at him, turn around with shocked looks. Otto held onto the submachine gun with one hand, “Are you serious!?” he yelled back into the communicator. (There’s no mistake.) Mineva’s voice answered.

(I said it. He threatened to release the air on the deck everyone was on to coerce Banagher into talking. We don’t know what this man will do if he gets the “Box”. Please hurry and depart immediately.)

Otto gasped, and looked over at the sensor operator. The profile sat down at the console he just got back. “There’re 4 “Sleeves” units, leaving by SFS. They’re headed for the shoal space region.” He reported. “Are they planning to make contact with the reinforcement fleet…?” Liam interrupted with an anxious expression. He looked at Flaste, who had given up on resisting; their eyes met, and Flaste’s eyes confirmed silently that Frontal was this kind of man. “How’s the takeover of the ship!?” Otto hollered as he looked over at Mihiro in front of the communication console.

“Each department has taken back the initiative. The mobile suit deck is starting with the firefighting and the evacuation of the wounded. Most of the Garencieres team has surrendered, and the Republic soldiers are retreating.”

Mihiro answered without looking back as she listened in on the channels that were buzzing from all departments. Mineva’s broadcast probably caused the enemy to lose their will to fight, but though they seized the bridge back without bloodshed, it was not normal to see all the cadres fully armed. There was Flaste’s subordinate being pointed with a gun at the console in front of him too.

“Ignore the escapees. Our priority is to repair each department.” Otto commanded, sat on the Captain’s seat he did not feel he had seized back completely, and reached his hand for the microphone broadcasting to the entire ship.

“Once our preparations are complete, we’ll launch immediately. Turn our path to “Industrial 7”, set the shortest course—”

A sudden flash outside the window interrupted his words, and a blunt impact shook the bridge. “What’s going on!?” Liam hollered as she jumped up with Flaste. The sound of the explosion interrupted her words and shook the outer wall of the bridge. Otto looked outside, “It’s the Republic army!” and tensed up upon hearing the sensor operator’s voice.

“The “Gultoppr” and the “Dromi” have encircled to the front. Minovsky Particles are at combat density. 8 enemy units launched.”

The white “Hizack” that flew by the bow was definitely a unit from the Republic army. The unique looking Musai Kai-class ships encircled the “Nahel Argama” with the ‘L1 Junction’ behind them. They were actually so reliant on scattering Minovsky Particles under such distance, and coupled with the exact same hit-and-run strategy from before, the overreliance of the tactics in the textbook really confounded Otto. “Those idiots, they haven’t taken in all their comardes…!” Flaste growled. “Anti-air combat! The mobile suit squadron is to launch if they can!” Liam yelled, and Otto looked at her back as he watched her forget to point her gun at Flaste. He was about to agree with her decision, but an unexpected thought caused him to increase the force of the grip on the Captain’s armrest.

He looked at the positioning of the enemies on the sensor monitor, can this work? Is this really good? He asked himself, and the only answer he got was that he could only do this. “LEAVE THEM!” He shouted with all his strength.

“Use a few machine guns for anti-air combat. Prepare the hyper mega particle cannon for firing.”

He turned his stare to the front and stared at the ‘L1 Junction’ in the path. “REPEAT IT!” Otto ignored the stares from everyone else, and shouted. “Ye-yes.” He heard Mihiro’s stammering, and as she started to give commands to each department, “Captain…” Liam gave him a stare.

Is this really alright? her expression was asking this. it was the same expression as when she said ‘this is fine, just be who you are’ after he hesitated on whether he should shoot the Republic soldier. He looked back at those eyes, and suppressed the piercing pain in his inner heart. “We can’t weaken our forces here.” He looked away as he said.

“And there’s the issue of time. We need to settle this in a hit.”

It’s different from having to do it. I can brace myself and kill just because I can’t see the enemy’s face. Once he realized this was a dullness the Oldtypes had, Otto looked around to see the devastated situation on the ship. He looked back at Liam with the expression of a Captain. “Yes!” Liam answered with a voice a First Officer should have, and they both looked forward.

This is part of training—he would not say such defensive things. As a foolish Oldtype, he had to at least bear responsibility for all he had done. He was extremely clear that this act was not something he could handle, but Otto continued to stare at the Republic flee that was starting to get in position. After the shock from the direct hit, the hyper mega particle cannon started to buzz as it loaded, and the light on the bridge became a dark red color.

Part 24

"Ceasing all evasive movement, directing full power to the hyper mega particle cannon."


"Coordinates steady, aiming the bow to the target."


"All hands, switch to backup power."


The voices continued with furor, and the lights on the ceiling was dull as the mobile suit deck suddenly got dark, brightening the colors of the flames everywhere further. "Anyone that's free is to help put out the fire!" Conroy's voice echoed.


The crew with OBAs left the catwalk in ones or twos, and there were more than 50 people going everywhere to put out the fires. They just need to draw the air out if they wanted to do so, but with wounded everywhere, they could not use this method. The air purifiers brought oxygen in this zero gravity situation, and Conroy floated around with the firehose hose, while Tomura of the Garencieres team was pulling the wounded Republic soldiers to the air lock. Evan's "Geara Zulu" abandoned its beam rifle and threw aside the burning metal frames. While the “Unicorn” was carrying the wounded with both hands, Kwani’s “Geara Zulu”, which had a lost arm, was helping with the firefighting. (We’ll die if the propellants set off a chain reaction of explosions! Tell the mobile suits to remove the cartridges!) Someone’s voice rang through the communicator. (Republic men, anyone can do, report your battle strength. We have no idea of the numbers left on the deck!) A female voice passed by, probably belonging to the civilian girl called Micott.

There was nothing impressive. The men who were wielding guns and attacking each other a moment before were working together. There was no room to talk about whether reconciliation could work, and they could only move their bodies instinctively. Zinnerman sighed as he looked at this flaming field that had no discrimination of Zeon or Federation. The breath of fatigue he had vented in for more than a decade floated on the deck, was buried under the continuous explosions, and were sucked into the purifier installation together with the smoke ans team.

The Republic army’s attacks continued. The sound of explosions mixed in with the buzzing on the trembling catwalk, and once he heard his heart return back to nothingness, Zinnerman turned his stare behind. He knew there was someone there right from the beginning, and the expected face exchanged looks with him. Zinnerman first drew the handgun on his waist, and threw it at the other man.

“…Can I leave it to you?”

Gael Chan received the handgun that was thrown into the air, and looked back wordlessly. There was no need to say anything more to such a man; he was a man who was driven by the emotions he could not erase, who lost options in life, and could imagine how pitiful Zinnerman felt for losing his goal. Zinnerman felt that Gael was the perfect person to make the decision, and grabbed the handrail tightly. He subconsciously looked at the deck filled with smoke, and waited for the gunshot signalling the judgment to ring. “I refuse.” However, Gael merely responded in such.

The burly body threw the handgun onto the deck, and kicked the floor to approach. Such an ungracious man. Does he think that he can pay for the ship’s fees with some cheap wine? Zinnerman cursed in his heart as he glared at the unwavering bald head. However, Gael did not mind at all as he approached, landed beside Zinnerman, and turned his stare to a corner of the deck.

The large body of the “Kshatriya” could be seen opposite the smoke that was starting to disperse. Zinnerman spotted the moss green machine that was trying to avoid being seen, gasped, and his body had nowhere to go to as the monoeye looked back at him.

The “Kshatriya” slowly shook the 4 binders there were severely damaged, and looked over at him before opening the cockpit hatch. The pilot appearing from the inside did not seem to be in good condition. The blowing hot air on the deck made her footing unstable, but the long hair tied to the back of her head swayed. Her blue eyes regained some life, and her eyes were clearly looking back at Zinnerman through the smoke, giving off a glint that was like starlights 30m away.

“Maree…”

These words unwittingly leaked out from his mouth, and landed on his chest, bringing a tinge of warmth to his body that was like an empty hollow. Zinnerman’s eyes did not learn their lesson as they started to tear up, and he lowered his stare. “Princess Mineva did say it before.” Gael did not look back at Zinnerman, and said,

“Take responsibility, Captain. She and Banagher still need you.”

Gael left these words, turned his back on Zinnerman, and left. I don’t have this right. A tremor from a direct hit immediately dispelled the notion in his heart, and it shook the ship, causing the catwalk to rattle. Zinnerman brought his body back to the floor after nearly floating up, and his shoulders trembled as he was impacted by the surge of emotions. The water droplets scattered because of the tremor, floating in front of his eyes, and decorated Marida in the belly of the “Kshatriya” like lights.

Part 25

The light ring of the direct hit expanded, and instantly engulfed half the hull of the “Nahel Argama”. Gilligan used the AMBAC to turn the machine greatly as he flew above the white ship. As he saw the anti-air fire that was unable to reach him at all, his lips showed a smile.

“As expected, the “Nahel Argama” can’t use its main cannon after all. “Gulltoppr” and “Dromi”, shoot the “Nahel Argama” down with your cannons! It’s just a puppet that can’t even dodge now!”

He called out into the wireless communicator, and raised the beam launcher of the “Hizack Custom”. The “Nahel Argama” was perfect live bait as it remained unmoved even till this point, but perhaps the engine was malfunctioning, causing the generator to subpar, probably due to the battle with the “Gundam” from before. Gilligan could tell that the anti-ship cannons of the “Gultoppr” and the “Dromi” could sink it with their cannons, and gave the signal for the allied machines to retreat. (We’re still not done with the reclamation!) however, this answer came, infuriating Gilligan.

That Captain Hohky of the “Gullltoppr” is the one who most deserves the baptism of actual combat inside the “Nahel Argama”. If two, three battles went by him, his weak brain will tense up a little. “LEAVE IT!’ Gilligan turned to face the “Gulltoppr”.

“THERE HAS TO BE A MINIMUM AMOUNT OF SACRIFICE!! THOSE OF THE “WIND’S ASSEMBLY” SHOULD KNOW. START BOMBARDING!!”

This is a war. His hotheaded mind was stating this, and he turned to look at the “Nahel Argama” that was full of burns. If the “Gundam” and the mobile suit with the funnels move out, they would have no chances of winning. The Red Comet’s squadron had already pulled away from battle. “It’s not in my intention to implicate my allies, but this can’t be helped.” He muttered, turned his stare away from the white ship that still had lots of his acquaintances inside, and glared at the “Gulltoppr” that remained unmoved.

“We must at least sink the “Nahel Argama”. If we don’t show that we did something to cover the Red Comet, the “Sleeves” won’t accept us.”

They won’t die in vain. As long as we’re still alive, as long as we don’t lose our wills as avant-gardes of the new world, we won’t die in vain. He continued to repeat the words in his mouth. Then what if the situation’s reversed?The voice of a devil’s advocate questioned Gilligan, “There’s no need for that.” And Gilligan’s words caused his face to numb.

(Let’s go back, Lieutenant Gilligan. The “Sleeves” fleet won’t respond to our call. The operation has failed.)

“WHERE ARE WE RETURNING TOO!? TRY RETURNING BACK TO OUR COUNTRY IF YOU DARE! YOU’LL BE DEEMED A LAUGHING STOCK, AND YOU’LL MOST LIKELY GET IMPRISONMENT FOR LIFE!”

Cowardly Gilligan. He seemed to hear the teasing of the bad children. Those guys—those apathetic people of the Republic won’t understand that we’re acting for the sake of our country. Even Mineva Zabi doesn’t want to understand. To those that don’t want to understand, we can only show outcome, show our force so that they could recognize us, right? He held onto the control stick with enough strength to sever it, wanting to shake off the voices of the bad children in his mind. (Give up. If you’re a soldier, just accept the outcome.) Captain Hohky’s reply however caused the last strand of sanity in Gilligan to snap.

No, this outcome isn’t an outcome. The Sides shall rise, the “Wind’s Assembly” shall be recognized as patriotic heroes just like the heroes of the past. This is the correct outcome. Those who’re upright can’t feel fearful about this moment of infamy— Monaghan Baharov’s words appeared in Gilligan’s mind, and he stepped on the pedal. The “Hizack Custom” machine accelerated greatly, and the “Gulltoppr”, with its back facing the “L1 Junction”, slowly got bigger. He went by the still main cannons, went down the slope of the ship, stopped in front of the bridge, and braked to turn his relative velocity with the ship to zero. He raised the beam launcher and aimed it at the bridge.

“Captain, this is the last warning. Shoot down the “Nahel Argama”, or I’ll shoot the bridge.”

The steering pilot witnessed this through the window, and took a few steps back in fear. In contrast, Hohky’s expression changed as he ran forward. It can’t be helped. You’re like those foolish citizens too. Your senses are all numb from all the slavery, and you only know how to laugh at the passion to save our country. “Lieutenant…! Don’t be foolish—” Hohky shouted, “YOU’RE THE FOOLISH ONES!!!” but Hohky roared out in fury.

“WHY HASN’T ANYONE SEEN THIS REALITY CLEARLY!? WHY IS EVERYONE ABLE TO REMAIN CALM EVEN WHEN WE LOST OUR COUNTRY!! WE USED TO RECITE THE PLEDGE TO BUILD ZEON. THE ADULTS IN THE WAR WERE ALL SO MOTIVATED! EVEN DAD, WHO DISOWNED ME ONCE I ENTERED THE ARMY, USED TOO—”

BOOM. A wind pressure-like torrent blew by the cockpit, erasing all words that were about to follow.

All sounds were eliminated in that instant, and the white flash scorched the eyes. The next moment, the color of scorched metal surrounded the cockpit in a burning vortex. Gilligan saw that the all-view monitor was covered in red, and all the electronics were burning. The heat reached his pilot suit in that moment, and the hand holding the control stick was burning like fire.

“WAAAAAHHHHH!!!!”

It was hard to tell if it was a scream or the sound of the flesh being burnt to crisp from the exposure to high heat. But no matter what it was, that was the last sound that rang in his consciousness. Gilligan let out a scream that was unbefitting of a hero’s end, but of a child, and felt despair as his consciousness was devoured by the scorching torrent.

Part 26

The “Nahel Argama” fired its hyper mega-particle cannon. This monstrous cannon weapon, 50m long and 18m in diameter, immediately melted the “Hizack Custom” in its path, and the “Gultoppr” and “Dromi” were also engulfed in the beam.

The window on the bridge was evaporated like soap bubbles, and the bodies of Captain Hohky and the rest inside were incinerated without remains. The electric circuits of the main cannon was exploded in a chain reaction as it was severed down the middle in half, and was scattered by the storm of mega-particles. The “Dromi” was immediately vaporized, and the hull tilted greatly like a tree swaying, its armor ripped off to reveal the skeletal frame. The hyper mega particle cannon buried the two Musai Kai-class ships, and did not negate its powerful energy even after such a heat. The scorching torrent continued to race forward, and the wild vapor of light hit upon the ‘L1 junction’.

It was a massive construct that had a maximum diameter of more than 2km long, but it was merely a weak alloy of solar general panels and metal frames. This ‘L1 junction’ took a direct hit from the hyper mega particles, and reacted like a burnt plastic kite hit by gas. The beam immediately landed on the solar panels that were enough to power 5 areas, and the snowflake-like crystal plate had a large hole burst through it. The core managed to avoid a direct hit, but it was impossible for the construct to be fine after a basking of a large amount of scattered particles. The collapsed and wrinkled core let out a chain explosion of flames, puncturing the metal frame, and splitting the collapsed solar power generator into countless pieces. This L1 junction which had been in L1 space for a long time as a lighthouse lost its ornament-like purpose as it gradually went into collapse.

The frame linking the solar panels was severed in a chain manner, and numerous reflected light scattered around the snow crystals. The core area exploded, and the stabilizing cable in the middle twitched a little. This cable started to be dragged by the gravities of both Earth and the Moon as it slid through the voice, and the husky 7.2km long cable became an arrow that signaled the end of the L1 junction as it deviated a little off course under the power of gravity.

As there were other scattered shrapnel dancing in this area, the “Hizack” squadron, which had lost their place of belonging, were flying about. They did not have time to care about their collapsed formation as they were doing their utmost just trying to dodge the shrapnel; during this time, the “Nahel Argama” ceased its beam attack and started to move.

The engines, which provided power for the hyper mega particle cannon, regained power, and 10 main thrusters lit their flares in unison. The “Nahel Argama” turned its belly to the collapsed L1 junction and went off to “Industrial 7”. As the thruster jets pressure blew the shrapnel apart, the ship that was almost 400m in length went away in an instant, and the 7 “Hizacks” were left, with nowhere to go, and the voices through the communicator rang in the void.

(The mothership’s sunk!! What do we do now!?)

(That’s why I didn’t want to do this…!!!)

(Don’t talk! We can only hang on with the oxygen in the unit before someone finds us!)

(I don’t want to suffocate to death here!! Mommy!!)

(Ca-calm down! This is the return path between the Moon and Earth. Some ship will save us immediately. The “Wind’s Assembly” preaches…)

Part 27

In an instant, there was a tremendous flash as bright as the sun, immediately drowning out the twinkles of the night.

it was in the middle of the L1 space region. At a distance of more than 10,000km, one could only imagine what kind of thing could cause that flash; but given the thickness of the Minovsky Particles half an hour ago, it would not be difficult to imagine that something eventful happened a while ago. "How is it?" Nigel asked through the contact loop as he did not look at the expanded window no further.

It had been 6 hours since he launched from the "General Revil". The Base Jabber finished its final acceleration as it moved on with the help of inertia, and the pilot had time to analyse the optical data. The sensor abilities for both machines were about equal, but the analytical abilities of the Base Jabber should be better than the "Jesta". (But we can certain that it's an explosion flash.) But the pilot's response indicated that he too did not understand anything else either.

(We can be certain that the L1 junction there, but,)

"What is it?"

(We can't see it. At this distance, we should be able to see it now.)

Nigel felt goosebumps as there was a swoosh. He leaned his back on the linear seat as he looked at the space behind him. It seemed that both Daryl and Watts, in the "Jesta" and "Jesta Cannon" respectively, realized this as they stood on the Base Jabbers; they turned their heads around and turned their visored eyes upon him. Once the Minovsky Particles started to scatter, they had no way of pinpointing where the "Nahel Argama" was. The unknown ship in the same space region was the same too, but if the L1 junction was destroyed, one could imagine that they would not remain at the same place. "We didn't make it in time." Nigel turned his stare forward (Leader...) Daryl muttered, "Report back to the "General Revil" but Nigel ignored him as he spoke through the contact loop.

"The 'L1 junction' has changed. The target may have escaped from the area; to all patrol ships, please assist in looking for the target--"

(Emergency report! It's from the "General Revil")

Nigel felt a chill once he heard the Base Jabber interrupt him, and immediately answered as he gulped, "Read it.

(Yes. The observation team on the Moon side has confirmed the current location of the target. It moved from the 'L1 junction', and is moving through the shoal space region. Head over immediately, and pursue on as far as your fuel allows you to. Our ship will make full haste towards the junction. The preceding mission unit will immediately launch. That's all.)

What caused Nigel to gasp was not the fact that the "Nahel Argama" changed its course and went for the shoal space region, but the unnatural term 'secret mission unit' ringing at his ears. He recalled the face of the ringleader from the Vist Foundation, Alberto, who was now controlling the "General Revil", and frowned at the unspoken command, telling them to back down. Is he scared of allies fighting against each other--no he wants us to revert back to the tactics for the original UC plan when we battle? This "Jesta" is built to accommodate the Unicorn-type mobile suit as a support carrier after all.

"That guy...?"

The immature expression and the back that did not match the black pilot suit appeared in his mind. (Secret mission unit, as in...) Watts growled, "Just like what you see here." Nigel interrupted as he said.

"Once the data from the mothership reaches us, change our course and pursue the "Nahel Argama"."

There was nothing more to be said, except that this would be a long mission for them. (Understood) Daryl and Watts answered in unison, showing their gloom and realization ever since they got involved with the "Unicorn"; Nigel wordlessly operated the control stick.

The question was neither about whether the "Unicorn" pilot was a Newtype, or whether Newtypes exists. What annoyed him was the great fear humans had, to a point where they created a machine like the "Banshee", and even allowed for the existence of Cyber-Newtypes. We don't need the power of that thing. We can beat the "Unicorn" with our strength with our own abilities. With this determination, Nigel looked towards the shoal space region. In the midst of the stars twinkling, he still could not find the light of the "Nahel Argama".

Part 28

(The Anaheim electrowave scope has confirmed it. From the trajectory, there's a very large chance that the "Nahel Argama" is headed to "Industrial 7". If it is due to the actions of the Laplace Process, we can assume that place to be the final destination.)

Alberto's voice rang in the helmet, and there was no room to argue back."Industrial 7" was the place where everything began; it would be too coincidental to be a mere intermediate point. "Doesn't that place belong to Anaheim?" Riddhe looked at the system test window on the all-view monitor as he grumbled. (That is the case for the colony itself.) Alberto, who should be in the second communication room, answered back.

(However, the colony builder "Magellanica" is different. The Vist residence was moved there from Earth; Cardeas himself directed the move, and the Foundation has no interference with Anaheim. The secret organisation working under the leader directly may have done something.)

"They buried their treasure under their house?"

(That's not impossible. Don't forget that we're born in families with their fair share of troubles.)

His mind was not in the mood to give a bitter smile in the face of such a sarcastic remark. Whatever, as long as I can beat the "Unicorn" and prevent the "Box" from being opened--anything goes as long as I prove that my choice isn't wrong.(Hatch opened. Romeo 008, please head to the catapult deck.) Riddhe heard the voice of the communication officer as he suppressed his agitated heart and stepped on the pedal cautiously. The "Banshee" moved its sole forward, and as the "General Revil" launching deck was surrounded by vacuum, and there was a deep tremor.

(The Neo Zeon ship from Side 6 is headed to the shoal region too. At the rate they're headed, they'll reach the "Nahel Argama" faster than you do. However, don't worry about any other enemies and just get rid of it before it reaches "Industrial 7". We'll catch up soon. )

The control light above the hatch showed a green light. Riddhe let the "Banshee" move forward as its feet were connected to the catapult. There were no other allied machine, and the "Banshee" was the only one headed to the target as it would get on the Base Jabber outside the deck. Of course, once the "General Revil" arrive, 4 mobile suit platoons would sortie, but Riddhe did not hope to wait until that moment. I must be the one to end it all. The "Banshee" has enough capabilities for this.

"Even if I'm not a Cyber-Newtype, I'll have complete control over it."

I'll control it as a normal human frustrated over this world that has not changed. (Course clear, Romeo 008, please proceed for launch.) The operator's voice rang as he thought, and he gathered strength in his pubes.

"Romeo 008, "Banshee", launching!"

The catapult was activated, and the launch G force struck him. Riddhe felt his normal vision narrow as he widened his eyes and looked forward. The black machine had the Beam Magnum in its right hand, the shield in its left hand, and the Hyper Bazooka on its backpack as it was shot out from its catapult deck. The golden horn reflected the sunlight as the "Banshee" left the "General Revil".

There were many numerous stars in the endless space where he was headed, where Banagher, Mineva, and the place where everything began, where the space battlefield was. The "Banshee" ferried the realization and guts of the person as it glided through the dark vacuum.





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