Baka-Tsuki - User contributions [en]

KSGU:Volume 8 Chapter 2

2013-07-11T01:32:43Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 2 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

May 9th, GMT 13:45. There were clear skies above Dakar, but the streets was shrouded in a gloomy smell of a fire disaster, and the rubble, which may take a while to be removed, were still scattered everywhere; however, the slightly black smoke shrouding the skies for several days had subsided. The sun, close to the Equator, was not blocked by anything as it shone upon the streets littered with ash.

Kai Shiden did not hate the heat of summer, but the scorching blaze of this African continent was too extreme for him. He put his coat, which he had no intention of wearing, on his shoulder, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and stopped at the Avenue Pasteur of the autonomous street.

He looked up at the large block from beyond the toppled trucks and collapsed buildings. 8 days ago, a mobile armor assaulted Dakar single-handed, and now, its large hill-like body was covered by dust-proof sheet used for construction, while its skeletal frame that was dissected was left on this autonomous street. The shoulder armors poking out from the sides were removed, and the cannon that was used to destroy the high rise building of the Hotel Empire was isolated, but this enemy unit debris looked extremely abnormal, its height being a match for a 10 floor building. Everything looked like a remnant of a nightmare left in the wasteland of the summer heat, whether it was the maroon armor that could be seen through the gap of the plastic sheet, or the claw that still looked alive as it embedded itself on the road surface.

The path the mobile suit passed through showed the scene of a tragedy akin to that of a carpet bombing. The work to search through the remains of the rubble and the recovery of life essentials was going on; fire trucks and cranes were gathered, sirens were blazing everywhere, and the disaster victims were lined up in a single file in front of the hydrant trucks. On the other side, a GM type with a rifle was moving with its chin up, chest out, and disc-shaped transformable mobile suits flew by in the sky. ''Did I bring a camera?'' Kai subconsciously thought, and then got rid of this notion wryly. ''I’m not in this position now. The ones in charge of reporting the current situation in Dakar is the current reporters working for the news agencies. If there were people making a news report of the people stepping on the glass scattered on the road, running out from the Senate building, they would be able to make it in time for the night news. Their immediate priority would be to prepare the report they wanted to send to their headquarters in their trailers, charge into the news center at the Central Senate Council hall.

This was the biggest terrorist attack since the ‘colony drop’ 3 years ago, and it had been a week since the Federation government issued an emergency order. Rumors of a 3rd Neo Zeon war started to rumble, causing Dakar to not only become a simple disaster zone, but also a forum for government policies, an important place to interview more than usual. Kai glanced aside at the reporters who were frantically getting on the vehicles, and once he left the avenue, went off to the Senate Council hall he saw. The Greek-styled pure white buildings lost most of the glass in front of, but it still preserved some form of emanation, showing that it was the nest of authority. The mobile armor used up all its power approximately 200m in front of the building, and its crustacean-like arms were stabbed into the ground, still showing the dissatisfaction of being unable to reach the throne.

He passed by the “Guntank II” that was as ridiculously large as the tank, went by a series of security checkpoints, and entered the hall. The lobby was filled with the buzzing of the lobbyists, reporter teams, protestors like usual, but the scene of the repair workers going in and out, the armed soldiers protesting, gave a vibe that this was different from usual. Kai followed the instructions he was given, rode on the elevator and went up to the 8th floor. He stepped onto the corridor that was well furnished like a hotel, and saw flags of individual countries and the entrance of the Central Senate office, where the Earth Federation flag was. After walking down the long corridor for another 2 minutes, he found the office of Upper House Senator Ronan Marcenas of the first constitutional area in North America.

He passed through the ajar door, and first saw a ladder used by the workers to change the light panels on the ceiling. He looked across, and found cracks covering a third of the floor, and approximately 10 general stuff members were in the dim admin room answering calls. He could see that the tables, totalling more than 30, were rearranged back to their original positions, and the dust and rubble scattered on the floor was already cleared up; however, this could not hide the signs of chaos brought about by the unprecedented tremors and shocks. The phones continued to ring at this point, and the contents most likely included the usual contacts, catch-up, those trying to get benefits for the reconstruction, protests, or people donating money, holding to get involved with the military. Ever since the Defence Minister John Bauer mentioned about war, the people coveting the special needs of war started to take action secretly, and the owner of this office had the political power to pass judgement over their aspirations. The duty staff was gauging the importance of the callers, looking at the terminal monitor as they planned the schedule, looking equally tense.

Kai arrived a little earlier than the appointed time. There was no one at the counter, and Kai did not want to distract the staff that was completely focused in their jobs, and sighed as he decided to wait a little longer. He remembered that there was an ash tray beside the elevator hall, and took out the cigarettes he kept with him at all times ever since he started as a writer; he intended to leave the office first, “Are you Mr. Kai Shiden?” but a line stopped him.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I’m the secretary who conversed with you on the phone, Patrick Marcenas.”

The appropriately tanned face showed a bright smile; Kai read the reports on this man who was approximately 30 years old. He was the son-in-law married into the Marcenas family, and the first secretary of Ronan who was ready to get ready for a local election. Kai held the outstretched hand from Patrick, looked straight at the latter’s smile that was hiding a tense expression in it, and smiled back. “Please follow me.” After this, Patrick said and turned around as he passed through the office that was still buzzing with phone calls.

“I’m really sorry that we couldn’t come out to invite you in. As you can see, we’re still in a devastating mess…was the flight okay for you?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while since I rode on a military transport carrier. It was certainly a special treatment; I wonder if it’s because of the prestige the Senator had.”

Kai’s voice had some spite in this. Unlike the military, who wanted to restrict people from entering and leaving, all reporter-related personnel wanted to enter Dakar. While every major media center was spending large sums to get a few of their people in, only Ronan could let a freelance reporter ride in on a transport carrier.

“I’m really sorry, but at this time, we can’t ensure any flight seats for civilians.” Patrick answered as he faced forward. He glanced aside at Kai, and then, seemed to make up his decision as he spoke up,

“It’s personal, but it’s really an honor to see you. Actually, I’m a fan of yours, Mr Kai, not only for your talent as a reporter, but also—”

“As the weak Kai Shiden, a crew member of the original “White Base”.”

Kai spoke up first, “Ah, that’s not…” and Patrick, who was flustered, hurried up and looked away. This view was kept aside for a moment, but it was not uncommon to see people say such lines after seeing war documentaries through their youth. “A lot of things written in the books are wild stories.” Kai showed a wry smile as he reminded Patrick.

“Some writers have their own conclusions before they interview, and they won’t change it even when I do an interview check for such people. All books related to “White Base” seem to be of this kind too, but it certainly taught me something.”

It just so happened I came to this profession after the war. Patrick did not look at Kai , who continued on, and put his hand behind his back, lowering his reddened face. “I’m sorry for raising something I shouldn’t have mentioned.” Upon hearing this reply, Kai looked forward at the office approaching in front of him.

There were interviewers who look down on their interviewees, and there were also interviewees who manipulate the interviewers, wanting to turn the interviewer into a tower of propaganda for them. What was the reason the owner of this room, the Senator of the Settlement Issues Council, summoned him from Paris? It was impossible that he would be looking to ask Kai to write a biography after this Dakar Incident and all sorts of strange events. It seemed that this was a secret battle between Neo Zeon, the Vist Foundation and the Senate Council, and Kai heard of the situation through acquaintances in the industry.

Whatever the case was, this would be a tough battle for Kai. He raffled his grey hair and put on his coat. This undistinguished 35 year old looked like a proper reporter after adjusting his appearance. This was the first thing this young man, who was enlisted on the spot while studying in High School, and survived the events of the One Year War on the “White Base”, learned after leaving the secular world.

===Part 2===

(…In the past, the Principality of Zeon brought great damage to Earth through its blitzkrieg operations. Some felt that they had to do this against the Federation, which outnumbered Zeon forces by a hundred. But what are we getting when we do this? Up till now, we’re just slandered with the name of butchers who took the lives of half of humanity, unable to shake off our hatred. One might say that this price was overly massive for a mere temporary tactical advantage. We, the people of the Zeon Republic understood this clearly. When the Dakar incident happened, our government sent in aid faster than any other side, showing that we are reflecting on our past misdeeds. We’re decisively against terrorism, and though we’re comrades, we do not recognize the existence of Neo Zeon. However, a group of people in the Federation Council associate us, the Republic, with Neo Zeon, and insist on investigating us. They use the merger 4 years later as an excuse, and it’s not just one media stations saying that the Republic has gone out of control, which really upsets us. War is not beneficial, and we know—”

The moment the man on the television, the door made of Mahogany let out a knocking, and the guest and Patrick appeared.

This man Puerto Rican's face had a unique look, and he certainly was the one Ronan saw on the recent photograph. “Welcome.” Ronan Marcenas spoke up and went to the door to invite him in. Ronan had learned, inherently through his life as a politician, that being straightforward to someone he met for the first time and exerting strength of his grip was a way to take the initiative on someone; however, Kai Shiden did not look intimidated as he held the hand, deliberately showing a slight smile.

Ronan sensed that it would be a major obstacle for him to overcome, and let the other man sit at the chair of his office table, “Is there anything you wish to drink?” he asked, but was faced with an unfaltering expression, “No need for that.” It seemed that this man fully understood how not to be led by the other party. ''You can head back down.'' Ronan told Patrick with his eyes as he sat down on the chair at the office, his back facing the window. Kai did not look at his actions as he looked towards the television, still switched on, with a relaxed expression.

The man answering the interview from some major television broadcasting agency was lamenting the difficulties the Zeon Republic had, and his voice and expression were full of pretense. “Certainly a melodrama suitable for the afternoon.” Ronan finished, and watched Kai’s reaction. The latter merely gave a glance and withstood the initial volley without expression.

“That’s the Defense Minister of the Zeon Republic, Monaghan Baharov. He’s a man who bears the tragedy of a defeated country, but he’s working secretly with people of the old Principality, and has splurged a lot of money in the revival of the Federation. He’s also investing in the rightists promoting Zeonism, even collecting award winning papers from the Republic Army.”

“Award winning papers?”

“The themes are regarding the issues over safety and security, and basically, it’s a selection test used to sort out the rightists. After that, the ones he picked out will be sent to important places, and if there’s a need, he can use them as chess pieces.”

“And this necessary moment is?”

“I don’t understand that much, but they aren’t exactly hoping to fight the Federation. The recent economic downtime had brought about an increase in the radicals, but most of the Republic still do not like to fight after what happened in the Wars. However, the “Sleeves” are using their main forces, the “Geara Zulu”, which development’s is partly related to Anaheim. The central party are the people from the old Zeonic companies, and some of those people are working under Monaghan’s company…in this sense, we can’t see them as playing games only.”

He switched off the television with the remote and looked at the face on the other side of the table. If this were any ordinary reporter, he would be hooked on to this inside scoop. However, Kai did not have a single note as he merely looked back cautiously. ''So a man who experienced countless harrowing experiences of life and death in his youth can remain this calm?'' Kai’s face overlapped with the mental image of Bright Noa Ronan saw in his own house, leaned his back on the leather, “I’ve read through your popular work” and got down to business.

“The “Sunset of the Giants”, “Hell in Heaven”…each of these pieces had a unique entry point. There are a lot of these supposed anti-war reports, but it’s rare to see such works with anti-war sentiments like yours. Is this style due to your upbringing as a pilot on the White Base team?

Kai showed a stoned unsmiling expression as he did not answer this question. This boy was involved in the flames of Side 7 when the War started, was taken onto “White Base” as a refugee, and became a locally-enlisted soldier, the pilot of a newly developed mobile suit. It certainly sounded like something any war fanatic would like, a glamorous tale of a hero; however, the common understanding about him in many records stated that he was an opportunist with a vicious mouth. Despite that, he was trained by the military, and after the War, he enrolled in the Belfast University under the social reentry program, majored in journalism, worked at a news agency, and finally became a famous freelance reporter; it was said that a lot of young people respected him and felt familiarity with him.

However, such appraisal to Kai was most likely just a fetter, and Ronan could imagine this from his experience talking with Bright. As Kai remained silent, watching his own attitude, “But there’s something I’m very concerned with.” Ronan let out a probing voice.

“It’s your viewpoint regarding Zeon. You doubted the Space Administration after the war, and revealed the truth about the oppressed Spacenoids, but criticized the activities of the Zeon remnant forces harshly…to a point where you seem to hate them; you’re especially critical of Char, who led the Neo Zeon army. The reporters supporting the Spacenoids are mostly a little sympathetic to him…”

“Basically, the intellectuals who’ll criticize such writing are the dissidents against this fad.”

Kai shrugged as he crossed his long legs, and continued,

“That’s why it’s easier to accept a writer who writes in a way that sympathizes with the Zeon remnants. As for why I’m not on the same side, is it because I was a pilot who fought against Char on White Base? It’s a conditional yes. Since I’m a little famous, I can ignore the norm of the industry and write on. If there’s any basis for me, it’s that I believe that the media isn’t supposed to be a wind vane.”

“Wind vane…being blown by the wind called the public…is it?”

Kai did not answer, and as their expressions of suppressed emotions met, Ronan decided that it was time as he stood up and turned to the window behind him. The newly changed glass dimly reflected Kai’s expression, watching Ronan’s actions.

“A certain politician wants to reveal extremely important insider information that has something to do with security. What will you do if you’re that politician?”

“I’ll call in the reporters from all major media stations and arrange a news conference. No matter what, that person definitely won’t look for a freelance reporter.”

This voice suppressed Ronan’s thoughts and split his thoughts in half. His lips twist in a smile, “But that politician doesn’t trust the media.” and answered,

[[Image:KSGU8 111.jpg|thumb]]

“No matter what that politician says, it’ll merely be broadcasted for 30 seconds at most on the news. Even if it becomes a featured story, once the commercials end and the sports news begin, no one will think anything of it. There’s the ratings, hits, printing numbers, advertising revenue. The bigger the media gets, the wind called the public will get stronger, and will air these many viewpoints as a correct view. In this sense, a freelancer’s work—”

“Isn’t as free as what the term indicates. As long as the economic activity forbids such releases, there are some rules we have to abide by.”

“I feel that my insight can still distinguish which are the industry rogues that are only thinking of earning money, and which aren’t. It’s troubling if it’s a weak idealist, but there are solid professionals who insist on following their own principles even if they do follow the rules.”

Kai remained silent, not denying at all. ''Very good.'' Ronan exhaled and sat opposite Kai.

“Have you heard of the “Laplace Box”?”

Ronan saw that this reporter, who remained unflappable up till this point, showed signs of faltering. “I did hear rumors about it …” Kai lowered his crossed legs and muttered. “What kind of rumors?” Ronan kept watching Kai as he asked.

“An acquaintance planned to use this as a featured topic. The release was set, and the first issue was serialized on a magazine, but there was no second print. A month later, even the magazine itself was out of business, even though it printed quite a lot.”

“Once the advertising revenue is cut off, a magazine can’t do anything no matter how good it sells. What about that peer of yours?”

“He’s not in this industry now. I don’t know what happened to him now.”

“Maybe he’s drowned in some sea or became some space dust. Maybe he was given a little bit of money to live a carefree life. It’s not impossible. It’s not easy to eliminate someone, even for the Vist Foundation.”

Kai’s silent expression showed that he had a minimum understanding of the black mist shrouding the Foundation’s “Box”. “There’s still 30 minutes left.” Ronan looked at the clock on the wall, and said,

“There’s a vote at the conference hall at 3pm, and I can only talk with you until then. After that, you can decide how to deal with this. However, I hope that you can hurry and notify more and more people about this. You’re the only one who can do this and not let the truth be twisted.”

Kai suppressed his doubt and tension from his face as he looked at Ronan’s eyes for no more than 3 seconds. He reached his hand for the bag at his feet, took out a notebook and a tape recorder. Just when he was about to press the switch of the recorder, their eyes met again, and Kai wordlessly put the recorder back in. Ronan smiled slightly and clenched his fists that were on the table.

“I have sufficient evidence to prove that the Vist Foundation is interfering with the Senate Council through improper means, and carrying out battles however they want. The aim of the Foundation is to retake the “Laplace Box” before it gets released, and for this reason, they created more unnecessary damages by having several small skirmishes with Neo Zeon, which is also hoping to get the “Box”. “Industrial 7”, “Palau”, the “Laplace” relic; It’s the same for Dakar and Torrington.”

Kai stopped his hand from writing on, and the sound of the crane far away rumbled the air inside this air-conditioned room. Ronan took this sharp stare from Kai head out and took out a stack of information from his table drawer.

“This is a list of the Senate Council members involved with the Foundation, and they apply special counter-terrorist laws without the recognition of the Senate Council to deploy forces; even till now, they’re profiting off the Foundation. If we don’t reassign them and rebuild the command structure of the military, it’ll be hard to hope for the revival of security. If this can get the media to use this as a chance to move, the prosecutors who had their heads pressed down by the Foundation finally have some purpose.”

Kai flipped through the list of officials printed on the A4 paper, and looked back with a doubtful look. Ronan leaned his body on the table, and said,

“We’ll do our utmost to protect your personal safety. Of course, the Foundation will use all sorts of means to obstruct us—”

“What can you get?”

Kai raised a finger to stop Ronan from continuing, and asked on, “This “Laplace Box” is said to have the power to topple the Federation government, and the Foundation and the government have a common goal to prevent it from being released. It’ll certainly be an issue if there’s improper interference with the military’s command structure, but can’t you do this before they secure the “Box”?”

“If it were that easy, of course, but the results are just as you see. There’s a need to eliminate interference from the Foundation, unite the military with the government, and face this situation with a reformed attitude.”

Kai snorted as an answer and leaned his back on the chair. His expression was saying that he would not accept such an answer; he was approaching using the nose of a reporter, but he was keeping his distance, watching if he was to be made use of by a politician—''this man’s sharper than I thought.'' Ronan sensed some difficulty, but also felt a delight of a long-awaited intellect agitating his sense, and tapped his fingers on the armrests of the chair.

“You’re asking me what benefits are there for me, is it? A benefit I can get is that I can get a good night’s sleep. I think about the horror if the “Box” falls into Neo Zeon’s hand, what happens if a man like Monaghan uses it, the anxiety of the One Year War nightmare reenacting again…this is what I want to eliminate. I suppose you should understand, since you’re not affected by the trends and continue to notice the danger of Zeon.”

Ronan did not wait for Kai’s response as he again stood up and looked outside the window. The remains of the mobile armor stood behind the legislation building opposite.

“The Federation isn’t as stubborn as what those calling for a change in establishment are saying. As long as there’s an opportunity, this united government that’s less than 150 years old can be toppled easily. As an installation and avenue of resentment outburst, Zeon’s thoughts are too dangerous. Before the Republic hands over its autonomy again, just when this nightmare’s about to end, this radical…the Vist Foundation has to bear responsibility. Also, the “Laplace Box” should be under the control of the Federation government. This is our common understanding.”

“What do you mean by ‘our’?”

“You can consider it to be the view of the ruling faction and military personnel not corrupted by the Foundation, with the Settlement Issues Council leading the charge.”

“So you’re using the chaos of the space army realignment plan to counter those giving unnecessary equipment in this counter-terrorism plan…is it?”

The pursuing expression was laid upon Ronan’s back, and he hid the pain of being cornered, “This sure is tough.” Kai did not show a smile, and his stare remained unmoved.

“It’s true that a ship that can’t respond quickly or a mobile suit isn’t very suited for counter-terrorism, but even as the appearance of war changes, human sensitivity will not change that easily. There’s also the thinking to preserve the prestige of the nation’s authority.”

“Preserve the authority…”

“A fleet that’s deployed like a tall wall, a powerful mobile suit squad full of invincible warriors; such psychological impact on humans are not to be underestimated, even in this era of where information battles or special forces operations are important. A power that can be seen by the naked eye can cause fear in others, and prevent a second Zeon from appearing again.”

“In other words, you want to use a high wall to surround the Earth by using the authority of the Earth Federation as guarantee, a tall wall with the words ‘obey me’ plastered on it, not budging even if there’s a conversation?”

Ronan resisted the urge to confirm Kai’s view as he narrowed his eyes at the latter, and felt a bitterness of being tricked. “I made a little investigation on your career before I came your, Senator.” Kai again folded his legs and said,

“You brought about a wave of new life for the Federation after the War, and was a liberal, just like the first Prime Minister Ricardo…when you were nominated for the Senate for the first time, this was what the media was praising you by. In fact, you can be considered an anomaly for the Marcenas family after Ricardo was killed. The first thing you did after being elected was to move to Dakar, right? There are several other places for candidacy, but you insisted on coming to Dakar, this land that may be buried by sand a hundred years later as desertification continues.”

Ronan resisted the impact of the wedge striking him in the chest, and barely managed to eke out a wry smile. Kai put his clasped hands on his folded legs and continued without looking away,

“Earth was starting to show signs of recovery due to the Space Migration Plan, but the fact was that the destruction of the One Year War brought it to the brink of danger again. As someone pushing for policies, you had to often experience the urgent needs Earth had, to think of what you had to do next…at that time, there were some who said that you were doing this for the sake of popularity, but this isn’t all, I suppose. You do have belief, you believe in improving human civilization, to continue to coexist together with Earth. You believe that Earth shall be the eternal homeland for humanity, and everyone should head to space—”

“That’s a mistake by a reporter affected by Zeon. I’m not that much of a radical.”

Ronan immediately interrupted Kai, but he could not seal off the sediment that was oozing out from the scar in his chest as he looked away and let his eyes waver. ''Right, I did once think of it this way…'' he muttered in his heart that was full of sediment, and secretly clenched his fists under the table. ''If I were the change the nature of the Federation, the curse of the “Box” will vanish. If I can grab the ‘future we should have’ with my own hands, I won’t have to fear the “Box”, and I won’t have to restrain my children with the curse of the Marcenas—''

“And that you now choose to protect your power.”

Kai said. Ronan’s wavering eyes looked back at him.

“You, who once pleaded that humanity should turn their eyes to space, now fear the independence movement of Spacenoids like a plague, and want to build a tall wall around Earth. Why is that?”

“…Humans can’t keep their vibrant youthful energy forever. Once you have the necessary responsibilities, you should understand. Is such an answer not good for you?”

He answered almost instinctively, and felt that he could not continue talking; this catastrophic situation suddenly brought about a tremendous fatigue on him as he sighed. Was this a sigh that indicated the wasted precious time, or was this a sigh over how his past was unexpectedly revealed to him? Ronan remained confused as he was unable to tell “I’m not really unhappy about this.” He heard Kai’s response, and sensed that the latter put down his folded legs as he closed the notebook.

“I do feel that I’m an adult too, but I don’t want to forget how I don’t want to see this in an adult.”

Kai stood up while lowering his stare. “I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to help you here.” Upon hearing Kai’s voice, Ronan knew that this was a conclusion to be expected.

“I’m personally interested in the Vist Foundation and the “Laplce Box”, but it’s not in my nature to be a negative propaganda tool. Please look for someone else.”

“…Captain Bright Noa is also involved. Are you still not going to change your mind even after hearing this?”

There had to be a limit to his struggling. He knew that very well, but Ronan said it out. Kai, who was about to leave, stopped in his tracks and practically rolled his eyes as he looked over his shoulders.

“He’s like you, unwilling to be a lackey thirsty for power, and got reassigned to the Senate Council as a result. Londo Bell’s backers are protecting him, but it’s hard to return him to his position as commander. I still have a way however if we can clear up the conspirators with the Foundation.”

“Senator Ronan, I don’t want to think that being shameless in your actions is what an adult should be.”

The growl caused Ronan to experience a second stab in his chest again. “You should be able to understand.” Kai said and turned away again.

“It’s okay to turn rogue, but for someone like you with such a standing, I hope you don’t show how much you have fallen. Did your son not leave the house because he could not take it?”

It was the final lunge at his wound, and Kai left the room without looking back. ''This isn’t true,'' Ronan wanted to yell out, but could not as he watched Kai leave wordlessly. He could not bring himself to call Patrick to send the guest away, and his eyes, which had nowhere to go, escaped upon the photos hanging on the wall. These were photos of himself, whether it was when he appeared on the cover of a weekly magazine, the photo with the Prime Minister back then during the memorial of the end of the War, and so on. Amongst all these photos that clearly showed any passers-by his decorated career as a politician, there was a photo of him with his family and the recently built Senate Council hall in the background.

There was his wife, narrowing her eyes, ostensibly complaining that the sunlight in Africa was too strong, Cynthia, who was in the vibrancy of her youth, and Riddhe, who was less than 10 years old. As Ronan stood there, unable to show a sincere smile once he started to understand the rule that this world could not change, Riddhe was showing a weird stiff smile beside him. At that time, he would mimic Ronan’s own actions which he somehow saw, and was often reprimanded by his mother. In fact, Riddhe, who seemed to be giving an adult-manufactured smile, looked just as pitiful as Ronan was.

''Right, that child understood.'' Ronan looked at the door and imagined Kai’s back on it, telling himself the words he could not say out. ''That child understood everything and accepted the destiny of the Marcenas family. I let that child bear the burden of the “Box”. I wanted to change everything in this generation, but I couldn’t do anything, and added the burden of my father and grandfather upon him.''

Ever since the battle of Torrington, there was no news of Riddhe. His “Delta Plus” was reclaimed safely, so he probably was not hurt. This news alone was enough for Ronan. No matter where Riddhe was, no matter what happened to him, he would not betray the Marcenas’ destiny. Even though others could not understand, he could firmly believe so.

That was why he was suffering, that was why he was in pain. Ronan imagined that silhouette similar to his own, suffering from the despair in a place Ronan could not see—a man who never had pressure before would not understand. Ronan looked away from the old family photo, and let out a deep sigh. The rumbling of the cranes outside shook the air in the room, slowly stirring at the emptiness that came with this time.

===Part 3===

“A secret code used during the war?”

The body floated down the ramp tilted at a tight angle, and went from the hatch on the floor into the bridge. Gilligan Eustace grabbed onto the handrail at the door, and before the magnets on his soles landed on the floor, there was a reply from the Captain’s seat. “It looks like it’s the same one used during the drop on Earth” Upon hearing this, he trembled with excitement.

“The signal beacon sent has been pinging the same code. We’re still analyzing the contents.”

“Location?”

“In the middle of L1. It seems to be near the ‘light tower’. The ship has been slowing down since just now…”

Captain Hohgy said as he pointed his chin at the navigation window on the left side of the screen. It was not a distance where they could do anything immediately, but Hohgy’s completely relaxed expression made Gilligan unhappy within. After 10 years of military life that did not seem like one, Hohgy ended up with this face that had completely forgotten what it meant to be a warrior. At Gilligan’s own age, this man was involved in real battles against the Federation.

“No doubts about it. This is the ship Lord Monaghan told us of, the “Mock Wooden Horse” of the “Nahel Argama”…”

Gilligan did not look at the face of the Captain, but exchanged looks with the navigation officer, a comrade, holding the steer at the steering seat. The navigation officer facing, looking extremely excited for having a real mission for the first time. The cannons operator, the ship operator and the rest were all feeling excited too, and there were 5 of these cadres working on the bridge. These faces would soon create new history for the Zeon Republic. People like Hohky, who were filled with the knowledge of defeat, the adults who did not accomplish anything, did not have the power to stop them. As Gilligan decided this in his heart, “Tell our country and the “Sleeves” he commanded to the communication operator on the starboard terminal.

“Also, captain. Our “Gulltoppr” will link up with the “Dromi”, and we’ll carry out tracking and observation of the “Mock Wooden Horse”. I hope that we can immediately break ranks and head to L1.”

As Gilligan acted in insubordination as he said these words, the other cadres had their eyes focused on the Captain’s seat. Hohky could not hide the surprised on his face, “What about the support of the training fleet?” he asked with a restrained ship.

“We’ll let the “Bifrest” continue on alone. This is an official port call given to us; we have to let the fleet commander complete it.”

“This is against the treaty! Our army is forbidden from fighting outside our territory without any request from the Federation.”

“The fleet commander has known about it. The main forces of the “Sleeves” will reach the scene, and it’ll take a day at least to reach there. It’s completely useless if everything ends on this call alone…and even if anything happens, Lord Monaghan will deal with it appropriately.”

“This is different from what was agreed on! We’re just in charge of searching, and the rest—”

“Captain, this is the next objective given to the “Wind Assembly”.”

The firm voice caused Hohky’s expression to change. This man had no ambitions, and just wanted to just have a peaceful life in the military and wait for his retirement funds to arrive. What misstep did he take to be dragged into the “Wind’s Assembly”? Perhaps it was when the superior officer taking care of him invited him to the study meet, and he was gradually involved in it. However, the “Wind’s Assembly” did not assign its important members around for show. If Hohky intended to let this once in a blue moon opportunity slip away, there would be a need to drag him down from the Captain’s seat. Gilligan stamped on the floor and let his body approach Hohky, whose legs were all limp with fear.

Think of how you could dislodge your peer and become a Captain. Did you think it’s because of ability?”

“You bastard, you dare to be so insolent to your sup—”

“It’s because you’re a superior that I’m saying this. Please don’t forget, that when we reveal the information to the “Sleeves”, we’re already straying off from our lives as Republic soldiers.”

Since the past, the captain had been considered a god on the ship, someone with absolute authority; now, this captain is treated like this, but Hokhy’s face was red for only an instant. His widened eyes suddenly lost strength, and his shoulders slumped, seemingly having given up, and looked away, ostensibly unable to think of anything else to say. ''What a pitiful man.'' Gilligan did not want to waste any time chastising this man, left the Captain’s seat, and floated his body to the window in front.

“The Musai Kai-class “Gulltoppr” bridge was constructed not too differently from the original old Republic ship, the Musai-class. It was a simple bridge with a large window typical of the current Minovsky Era, and all the functions could be gathered on this one floor. This extremely sturdy plastic window that was 2m wide and no less than 8m in length was at this point showing the ships of the Chivvay-class heavy training ships, and the navigation lights of the fleet flagship “Bifrest” could be seen further in front. It was impossible to see from this point, but there was a Chivvay-class training ship behind the “Gulltoppr”, and the “Dromi”, also of the Musai Kai-class, was acting as the vanguard. They were in a packed linear formation, surrounding the training ship; this was a basic formation in a offshore space training. In space, the distance of 2km would pass easily, so they had to watch each other’s position to prevent the rear ships from crashing into the front. The ships slowed down do to the unexpected change in course, and the rookies on the training ship were starting to decode the beacon signal.

The guards fleet commander on the flagship “Bifrest” was one of the few survivors of the space mothership “Doros” that was sunk during the War. He was one of the adults in the Republic after the War, but could not help but keep thinking of aligning with Neo Zeon because of his family, and would keeping delving into knowledge every single day, unlike the ambitiuous Hohky. Whether Hohky would accept this command or not, the fleet would disperse immediately, and the “Bifrest” will lead the two other Chivvay-class ships in training. The “Gulltoppr” and the “Dromi” would then take individual action, and what they were about to face would be a sea of real battle, where a single mistake would cost them their lives. Gilligan inhaled through his nose and suppressed the burning sensation in his heart and stepped off the floor. He saw the window show his reflection before he locked, and the uniform of the Republic army he had been used to suddenly felt revolting.

This collared uniform was designed in the same fashion as the Federation army, only that its colors were of Zeon colors, thick green colors, a uniform that felt annoying to him. The old Principality’s uniform that was full of Zeon flair in the past was removed, and the current Republic only had soldiers with this getup. This felt so cheap compared to the “Sleeves” that emphasized so much on their dress code—the elegant Neo Zeon uniform. This current uniform he was wearing was rid of the Principality’s flair; they hoped to start afresh, but after 16 years, nothing started. In the name of revival, they accepted one-sided peace treaties, killed off their souls, wore these uniforms, and was so pitiful that they had no honor and pride left.

If this was the proper way of being a Republic’s soldier, there would be no value in walking down this path. Deviating slightly from this path would allow them to live like real warriors. Gilligan crossed through the bridge, and descend from the hatch on the floor down to the deck below. The side of Captain Hohky’s face showed no signs of looking back at him, and overlapped with the face of Gilligan’s father, an advocate of anti-war, which made him even unhappier.

===Part 4===

The Republic’s army was not allowed to move outside side 3, their own country’s territory, but there were exceptions. Such exceptions included offshore space navigation. The training ships that came along were used to ferry new recruits, and the 2 weeks trip around the Earth Celestial sphere was the best chance for the guards fleet ships to get familiar with the technology. There were 4 such trainings each year, and this would be the 45th offshore trip ever since the Republic was created. Thus, the group called the 45th training fleet left from the port of their native area, got the top secret classified report from the “Wind’s Assembly” as they were about to pass by between Earth and the Moon, 2 days after they left.

It was not a coincidence that the two escort Chivvay-class ships and the 3 Musai-Kai class ships, “Bifrest”, “Gulltoppr” and “Dromi” had members of the “Wind’s Assembly on them”. This organization was said to have thousands, or even ten thousand members, and they were gathered on specific ships; their main priority would be to defend the fleet during its offshore training. The directive of the chairman was that they needed to learn skills for surfing through the space regions far away, to see the expansive world, but if there was a need, they could act on their own as a battalion.

''Just as I wanted'', Gilligan thought. The headquarters of the “Wind’s Assembly” was commanded to search for the “Mock Wooden Horse”—Londo Bell’s “Nahel Argama”. There was no specific reason, but if this was a joint operation with the “Sleeves”, it would definitely have something to do with the mysterious events happening the past month. This ‘just in case’ situation had finally arrived; no matter what it was, the premonition that something big was going to happen strongly drove the enthusiasm of Gilligan and the young members.

After the War, the Principality was subjected to release and execute all the important officials involved with the Zabi family, and they were practically focused to put their foreheads on the ground to beg the Federation for forgiveness. This however was not enough, and the history that followed was etched deeply into his heart, how they offered an entire city to the hungry Federation army, allowing them to go on a wanton rampage defiling women and children, turning him into a member of the Republic’s army. The authority that protected the nation by doing this was this hollow, and the Republic army under the control of the Federation had no authority at all. The Republic army was an army that was suddenly created by the Federation, who once wanted the Republic to disarm themselves, and now, the Federation intended to use them to suppress the Zeon remnants. Their defense directive to open fire before they were attacked hinted that these people were to endure a minimum amount of sacrifice. Even so, the nation never showed signs of regret sacrificing people after the war. The existence of the military itself was against the constitution, and this hint still remained deeply rooted in the Republic government calling itself a peaceful nation.

By deeming an independent war as a crime and abandoning the constitution by deeming it a war without any approval, this ended up bringing about emptiness to the country itself. The Republic soldiers were deemed as petty thieves, and it was a taboo of them to even wear their uniforms and walk down the streets in their country. ''Those who can endure such a situation aren’t worthy of being called warriors. If we’re children who don’t know about war, the adults are the ones who created this situation where they forget about their pride. They said that they willing become the puppets of the Federation by having a hundred year nation rebuilding plan, but accepted the return of self-autonomy in the year UC 0100 so easily, and said that returning their autonomy was due to the times. The adults kept delaying the issues, and their decisions could only cause adults to make the wrong step, ridding the people of its future.''

This was what the “Wind’s Assembly” told them. The sponsr behind this organization, Defense Minister Monaghan Baharov turned the issues these youth had since young into words. While studying at the National Defense College, Gilligan took part in in an essay competition, was selected, got involved with the “Wind’s Assembly”, and his meeting with Monaghan became everything in his life.

Monaghan would act as a puppet politician for the Federation, but secretly described the new world order of his ideals, and told Gilligan that the “Wind’s Assembly” was to be the forefront. That amazingly extraordinary thinking made Gilligan want to start up for him. While the “Sleeves” led by the Second Coming of Char continued to act as Zeon’s ghost, Monaghan and his men would continue to hide in the Republic’s army until that day arrived. This thinking brought meaning to his training and endurance that was never repaid; he got some self-respect he could take solace in, and started studying inside the departments seriously.

''Those who sacrifice their time as ordinary youths are to train themselves to be soldiers, ready to defend the country, so that they can get the mission to correct the country.'' Gilligan repeated Monaghan’s words in his heart again, affirmed that this moment had come, and let his feet move from the bridge and turn to the mobile suit deck. The Musai Kai-class cruiser had an appearance of an old flatiron, and the mobile suit deck was located right at the bottom of the bridge, at the back of the ship that was the handle. The deck space was a narrow and long cylinder, they could only put the machines on the ceiling and the floor. There were 4 units of RMS-106 “Hizack” that belonged to the Gulltoppr fleet, and two of them were facing each other.

The “HiZack” was developed from the “Zaku” of the old Principality, the ancestor of all mobile suits, and it was developed as a second generation machine, widely known for being adopted for use by the Federation after the War. At this point, it was considered an old mobile suit of the same line as the “Zaku”, and was even sold as toy machines to civilians, but the Republic continued to use this as its main force. The Federation, which upgraded its equipment, left a large remainder to the Republic; they were in a state where they were still fresh from the factories, and it was a hint that they had to repaint these mobile suits with Zeon colors again.

In the end, the mobile suits lying on the deck were white “Hizacks” that were not practical for actual combat, but the monoeyed heads were still a symbolism of Zeonism, showing a ferocity the GM-types never had. It was never overly stated, but the reason why the Federation kept scrapping the production of the monoeyed type and even swapped out some for the goggle-type was because they wanted to break away from the Zeon designs. Gilligan thought as he lifted his head to look at his customer “Hizack”. “What’s the matter, leader?” he heard this voice, looked behind, and saw the pilots and mechanics of the Gultoppr moving through the zero gravity deck as they gathered at him.

“What’s the content of the received code?” “Are we going to sortie?” The subordinates asking this were showing flushed faces. Gilligan looked around at all these people who too endured the subjugation and were about to be the basis for the new Zeon Principality, and answered them with a smile. A whistle rang, and someone yelled, “DAMN, WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!” a celebratory atmosphere soon devoured everyone, and Gilligan raised his hand to stop everyone,

“Our ship will track down and observe the “Mock Wooden Horse”. We just need to hang on until the main forces of the “Sleeves” arrive, but the mobile suit squadron can launch in this situation. Don’t neglect your preparations; our “Wind’s Assembly” is assigned to this offshore mission for this purpose. There’re still 4 years till the time we have to return our autonomy, and we have to become a wind to strengthen the fervor of the people, to save the forgotten Zeon zeal and our country that’s on the brink of collapse.”

Gilligan’s body floated in zero gravity, and everyone inadvertently bought their heels together. However, the tense looks on the subordinates’ faces showed that they understood their roles as the vanguards. He looked around at everyone again, and said and smiled, “If we want to ride the wind and fly, we need wings.” He took out a mantle that was folded neatly from inside his clutches, and opened it in front of the surprised group.

The black cloth had a golden rank sewn on it, mimicking the appearance of a wing. This was the mantle used by the cadres of the old Principality. The crowd let out oohs as they widened their eyes, “It’s the 3rd battle outfit!” “The real thing?” voices rang, and Gilligan answered, “There’s one for everyone.” He put on the Lieutenant’s mantle and hung the wing-shaped crest in front of his chest. “In the future, all officers are to wear the mantle, and the soldiers are to change into the prepared 3rd uniform. This is the will of the chairman.”

The mechanic answered to the keyword as he moved the cardboard box of mantles here. This was something the leader of the “Wind’s Assembly” prepared ‘just in case’. Gilligan looked on at the cheering subordinates who came fighting for the clothing like bait, and showed a wry smile as he looked at his machine pleased at the ceiling. The RMS-106CS “Hizack Custom” legs were larger, giving it a more stable impression than an ordinary “Hizack”. From this place, he could see the blade antenna of a commander at the top, and could see himself being reflected off the visor protecting the monoeye.

He looked up at the direct descendent of the “Zaku” series as he put on the mantle that reached his waist. If possible, he hoped to have a Principality’s peaked cap, but he could not ask for too much. This was the real him, the pride he finally could get after living for 28 years—the intoxication of arrogance numbed his body as he clenched the fist placed on his chest.

===Part 5===

The gate to the deck was opened, and the sounds of the reports and alarms that rang through the machine vanished as the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the generator. Angelo let his body submerge in the silence of space as his fingers rest on the ball grip, and lifted his stare to look at the pitch darkness on the other side of the gate. (Path is clear. Frontal squadron, please launch.) The report from the bridge rang.

(Captain, there’s a response from Tenisun’s fleet hiding in Side 6. They can catch up to the “Mock Wooden Horse” in one or two days. There’s no need to make a move first, is there?)

After the operator’s voice rang, Ship captain Hill’s voice echoed in the helmet. It had been 30 minutes since they received the information from the Republic earlier than expected, and decided to send the mobile suit squad for attack. Ship captain Hill had been advising against this operation all this time, and even at this point, but in fact, he was worried that there might be some mishap that may happen to Frontal. ''It’s cute that you’re worried to this extent.'' Angelo noted wryly. (Something might happen during this 1, 2 days.) Frontal said with a wry tone.

(The fleet commander of Londo Bell, Bright is supporting the “Mock Wooden Horse”. If he’s the one giving the commands, he probably has a plan to secure the “Box”. In this phase, a day’s difference is a lot.)

(Is that so…)

(This might be a showdown. I’ll end things before the “Rewloola” reaches.)

Frontal cut off the communication line on his side, and the “Sinanju” lined its feet on the catapult. The red machine with a beam rifle, shield and bazooka on its waist leaned forward. (Full Frontal, “Sinanju”, launching.) The nonchalant voice rang, and the tremor of the catapult being activated shook the deck; the machine with the wing-like thruster unit shot out of the hatch, and the “Sinanju” disappeared from the mobile suit deck. Angelo stepped on the pedal, and let the “Rozen Zulu” move forward without waiting for the catapult to return back to its original position.

The feet of the “Rozen Zulu” had the unique shape of high heeled shoes, and it could not fit onto the catapult either way. Angelo let the machine lean towards the gate nearby, and glanced at the deck crew waving the conducting bar, before looking at the wide space in front of the deck. ''This might be a showdown''—he repeated Frontal’s words in his heart, and exerted strength into his stomach.

“Angelo Sauper, “Rozen Zulu”, launching!”

The thrusters installed on the shoulders and waist armor let out flares, and the purple machine, which was designed based on a rose, was surrounded by light. The catapult deck that reached the bow of the ship immediately slid by from below, and the “Rozen Zulu” danced in the void. With the red “Rewloola” behind, he pursued the “Sinanju” that was moving far in front. The latter did not activate the main thrusters on its back, but used two, three restrained burst to negate the inertia, and fluidly approached the 4 shackles on standby.

The shackles were a SFS similar to the “Clogs” used by the Federation, and it was used for mobile suits long distance travel. Right now, it had two large booster rockets, and the tips of the 50m long rods were attached to the oval machines. Angelo interrupted his momentum and let the “Rozen Zulu” land on the second unit. Once the machine knelt down and landed on the platform, the hook-shaped finger grips latched on. At this moment, two “Geara Zulus” of the escort squad launched from the “Rewloola”, and landed on the 3rd and 4th shackle units.

The newly sortied Second Lieutenant Rakker and Ensign Reiru were here to replace Sergi and Cuarón who died in battle. They had exceptional skills as pilot, but could their “Geara Zulu” catch up to the capabilities of this “Rozen Zulu”. As Angelo thought about this, (Angelo), Frontal’s voice suddenly rang, and Angelo hurriedly looked at the first shackle.

(What I told Ship captain Hill was true. We’ll settle everything regarding the “Laplace Box” this time.)

“Right…!”

(The pilot of the “Unicorn Gundam” is gradually awakening into a powerful Newtype. When there’s a battle, I’ll have to rely on your “Rozen Zulu”. Be prepared.)

These unexpected words caused him to be short of breath. In the past, Frontal had never said anything about being prepared. He always fought for himself, and this Captain, who never required any assistance, was actually asking Angelo for help. He fully showed the fear in him, his true feelings to Angelo.

''Banagher Links has become a really powerful opponent.'' Angelo felt a chill pass through, but a more intense emotion rose from deep within him. “Yes!” he answered and sat upright in the cockpit. Just when he was feeling anxious about being unable to be more affectionate, (All units, correct your course. 10 seconds till the boosters light up.) the voice of the Shackle pilot rang, 9, 8, 7…the countdown through the wireless. After seeing the “Sinanju” ride on Shackle unit 1 as it flapped the wings on back, Angelo closed his eyes and let the body ride on the momentum of the boosters.

The spotless, pure white fabric appeared in his eyes. The white blanket appeared deep within his memories. Angelo was once stained by blood, dung and urine, but this blanket was purified by Frontal’s ‘power’. He pursued Frontal, believed in him, and viewed the latter as part of him for 3 years, which negated the corruption that had stained him for the past 10 years or so. He did not have any regrets left, and he was already mentally prepared. The grace of being saved could only be repaid by saving him back.

“If it’s for you, wherever you go—”

The flash and the buzzing of the boosters erased the following words. The 4 Shackles fired forward like bullets as they drag long and thick trails of light. Angelo endured the G-Force rattling on him, and looked at the space through his narrowed eyes. The Shackle ferrying the “Sinanju” let out a tremendous light on rockets, ostensibly devouring the surrounding stars.

===Part 6===

The central core module had thickness, but the panels of the solar generator expanded around it were just a thin layer, and when viewed from afar, it looked like a sheet of glass giving off white light. The panel was made of numerous triangular and rhombuses, creating a tessellation that was almost the shape of a hexagon; there were 6 warning lights flashing, reaching out from all corners. The “L1 junction” felt like…or rather, it was designed in the form of a snowflake; its shape was no longer that of a lighthouse, but something similar to an art piece. Including the pillars of the warning lights, the maximum diameter was 2km, and it could be said to be the most expansive art piece humanity used its public expenses for.

[[Image:KSGU8 137.jpg|thumb]]

There were 5 Lagrange Points formed between the Earth and the Moon, and each Lagrange Point had such a landmark set. This could be said to be the first stronghold of humanity in space beside the first space station sent into Earth’s orbit. Before the Universal Century began, humanity used these light towers to ascertain their positions, and crossed through this wide and endless space. In space, where every item would float away, and even the colonies relative positions continued to change, it was an artificial item that had an absolute position compared to the Earth and the Moon. The light and electrowaves released from it were the materials that allowed people to proceed with their work without worry—until the discovery of Minovsky Particles that thoroughly overturned the reliability of electricity.

Because of the advancement in space navigation technology, there were no ships that would use light towers as landmarks. Its existence had long been wasted; the light tower at L5 was wrecked in the war, and it was said that it was never rebuilt. The ‘L1 Junction’ flickering in front of their eyes had only an occasional patrol from the space colony association, and the people situated there had long evacuated. They set up an empty temporary pier to allow any ships that were involved in accidents to dock, but they probably could not use it in this situation. It let out a beautiful glow, but one could see that the ‘L1 Junction’ shown on the expanded main screen was completely desolate. “Another junk…” Liam muttered with a sigh as she witnessed the same thing.

“Is this Cardeas Vist’s interest? Whether it’s the relic of “Laplace” or here.”

“Places with hidden treasures are typically the ones most likely to be forgotten.”

''In stories.'' Otto added in his heart as he gave a wry smile. Liam glanced at him, and argued back wordlessly that it was reality. He understood, but it could not be helped. The current reality was that the coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was directed at this ‘L1 Junction’. Otto again looked at the space tower that was almost 5,000km away. Even though its parts showed signs of erosion after many years of being placed here, but the construct that symbolized a snowflake did not change its impression as a huge art piece. This impression made it look like it was very suitable for hiding treasure, but was also mystifying to a point where it could not be described.

The remnant of the Prime Minister’s Residence “Laplace”, the capital Dakar, and now the 3rd location; were things going to end after 3 times, or—''Otto ceased all useless thoughts and looked at the sensor on his left. “Are there any ships around us?” he asked this question for the umpteenth time. “Just like 10 minutes ago.” The sensor operator answered rhythmically.

“There’s a trading ship moving on the same path within a radius of 5,000km, and there’s a cruiser and a shuttle going in the opposite way.”

“Even if there’s a civilian signal released, don’t get careless. We were had on “Laplace” because of this. Don’t look away from the ship you set sight on.”

“Understood.” Upon hearing this reply, Otto looked back at the main screen. “Even though the enemy back then is our ally now.” Otto muttered to himself, and felt Liam give him a meaningful look. “Captain…” she muttered. “I know.” But Otto interrupted what she wanted to say next.

“I received a report from the supervisors. I’m very concerned that they’re too comfy, but there’s no actual proof, so we can only hold our horses here.”

He was talking about Zinnerman and the rest of the “Garencieres” team. They were not intending to interact enthusiastically, but seemed content with taking a step back and observing. They were definitely unable to hide their doubts about how things were developing, and had a natural reaction. It seemed that they did not have any motives at this point, but it was a fact that the Neo Zeon soldiers that totaled to more than 30 were not restrained, and were allowed to move freely in the ship. “Is that so…” Liam’s voice had some doubt it it.

“Whether it’s good or fact, the fact is that we let things develop like this. I don’t want to detain them at this moment and revert everything back to how it was. Let’s bet on those two.”

Otto look past Ensign Mihiro, who was at the communication console, and looked at the ship monitor showing the mobile suit deck as he said that in a voice only Liam could hear. The Zeonic-styled “Geara Zulu” and the ReZEL with the Federation goggles were lined together; they did not feel like they matched no matter how they looked. There was a 94-type Base Jabber at the factory block in the middle of the deck, and two “Lotos” in tank-form that were fastened down on the platform along it. The ECOAS members and the mechanics on the ships were working on fastening it down, and the white machine frame of the “Unicorn” stood behind them silently as Banagher and Mineva stood on the gondola built beside the cockpit. They were both in pilot suits, and were about to head into the cockpit of the “Unicorn”.

Conroy and Zinnerman were both standing on the same gondola, their arms folded as they looked at the pair. Banagher wanted to let Mineva come along with him as he head out to the ‘L1 Junction’ for investigations, and his insistence was that since Mineva had already abandoned Neo Zeon and rode on this ship, she should have the privilege to go along. The adults nodding away however had their own ideas; the ECOAS and Garencieres team were not looking at each other on the monitor as they flanked the pair, signifying the hideous atmosphere on the “Nahel Argama” at this point.

''People are beings who got reconciliation through countless trials…let’s hope this is one of them.''

Otto muttered what Bright said. “All inspectors, no change in the launching plans. Take note of the final destination.” Mihiro’s voice of a seasoned operator rang, causing the vague atmosphere in the bridge to become a little tense.

===Part 7===

“…That’s why, since it’s designed for Newtype-use, this guy’s thrust power is not just for smooth maneuverability. It will be a little heavier, but your skills will make up for it.”

Takuya said as he showed the 3 sided printout. He was dressed in overalls with the logo of the Nahel Argama on it, saying some ostensibly complicated thing, and looked just like a real mechanic. There was nowhere else to run on the gondola, and Banagher retreated to the cockpit hatch at the side. “Talking about my skills? You haven’t seen them at all.” He pouted as he said. “But I did read through the battle logs.” Takuya however argued back, not wanting to lose.

“I’ve read the logs about battles like the ones against the Red Comet or the aerial battle against Unit 02. Your testimony can’t be used for reference since you’re so immature, but this educational computer of the “Unicorn” has a complete log about it. I’ve researched through it and thought of this enhancement here. It’s called the “Full Armor Unicorn”!”

The blueprint flashed in front of Banagher’s eyes again had an outline of the “Unicorn” with lots of portable weapons on it. Banagher did think of how to handle the heavier machine and increase the output accordingly, but the blueprint simply looked like a child’s doodling, and only felt like they were loaded with powerful machines. He glanced aside at Audrey, who looked ready to burst into laughter, and then turned to look at the mechanic officer Gibney above the cockpit cover. “Mr Gibney, this apprentice mechanic wants to modify the “Unicorn” on his own will!” In response, Gibney merely shook his muscular back as he let out laughter.

“I’ve seen it too, and it’s actually quite balanced. How about you try it out as a friend?”

“Don’t joke around.”

“Eh, please. I’ll only use what we have, and it’ll be over after 20 minutes in the construction block, alright?”

Takuya however won’t take part this blueprint. “No way.” Banagher pushes it back.

“And I’m not going out for battle this time. My hands will be full because of this plan, right? It’ll be hard to carry out the investigation.”

“That’s why we need to rely on your skills.”

He smiled and patted on Banagher’s shoulder, his expression causing the latter to sigh. “Seriously you…” As Banagher placed his hands on his waist, another voice came, “Hold it, Takuya! Restrain yourself there!” This voice caused Banagher and Takuya to look back in unison.”

“Didn’t we agree not to interfere with what Banagher does yesterday?”

Micott said as she held the dinner boxes in her hands, balancing herself. It seemed that she sensed this commotion when the food was given out. ''So it’s already this time?'' Banagher looked at the watch hidden inside the glove, “But I’m not getting in his way.” and Takuya argued back with a vague voice.

“I’m doing this for Banagher’s sake…”

“Why aren’t you looking at me in the eyes…is Mr. Gibney being too nice to you? To think that he allows an apprentice to design a blueprint.”

“Is that so?” Gibney chuckled as he grabbed the dinner box that was thrown to him. Banagher looked at Takuya and Micott, who had already involved themselves into the atmosphere of the bridge well, and again felt that they were in a different realm on their own…a complicated sense of comfort and loneliness rose in his heart. “There’s no need for this since Banagher’s going to move now, right?” Micott asked. “Yeah, um. I ate already.” Banagher answered, but a sense of melancholy caused him to look away.

“…You too, Miss Audrey?”

Micott stare turned behind Banagher, ostensibly not realizing it herself. Audrey seemed to be stumbling in her words, “Oh, thank you.” but did not look unnatural, and Micott smiled back, not showing any signs of malice on her face. “Do your best!” Micott winked as she left the scene, while Takuya kept his blueprint and left the cockpit together with her. Banagher suddenly felt abandoned and scratched his nose that was not feeling itchy.

“Such great friends.”

Audrey said as she watched them leave. “Is that so?” Banagher turned his head around with a wry look, and accidentally spotted her dressed in a Federation pilot suit. A pilot suit demands more ease of maneuverability, and this pilot suit showed the figure of the wearer. Banagher kept staring at her, and realized that her body figure was unexpectedly nice. “I’m envious.” Audrey said as she approached him.

“I did not have any friends I could talk with like this.”

She whispered, and returned to her original position before he could see her face. She did not mind too much about Banagher, who did not react in time, and floated towards the “Geara Zulu” docked by the side, ostensibly want to talk about something with Zinnerman over there. Zinnerman, who interrupted his conversation on the unit’s information with the ship’s mechanic, turned to Audrey, and would turn an occasional glance at Banagher. For some reason, Banagher felt a sense of guilt as he did not look back, and hid inside the cockpit.

He checked that the assistance seat was pulled out for Audrey to sit on, and sat down on the linear seat. “But I’m here.” The words he failed to convey to Audrey in time repeated in his heart. ''No, it’s different from being an ordinary friend. I don’t want to end things just by being ordinary friends…as he started thinking about this, the light shining in through the hatch suddenly dulled. Banagher lifted his head to see Conroy’s hulking figure standing outside the hatch.

Conroy did not let out any voices as he agilely poked his head into the cockpit unbefitting of his large frame, and approached with a stern expression. At the same time, he brought something in his clutches to Banagher, causing the latter to hear his heart jump loudly.

“…What?”

His stare was attracted by the automatic handgun with a black glow, and he then turned his face to Conroy. “Take this just in case.” Conroy whispered and handed it together with the holster.

“Just in case…”

“We ECOAS will be heading forth to investigate, and the defenses on the “Nahel Argama” will weaken. If anything happens, you’re the only one who can stop them.”

Conroy said each word slowly and carefully as he looked at the hangar at the side of the all-view monitor. Banagher understood that there was the “Geara Zulu”, Zinnerman and company, and suddenly felt his eyesight darken.

“You want me to use Audrey as a hostage?”

There was a wordless reply. “But this…!” Banagher suddenly interrupted violently, “Just in case.” But Conroy interrupted him with a firm voice.

“Lieutenant Zinnerman understands very well. Same goes for Captain Otto. If not, Princess Mineva won’t be coming along to investigate.”

This was completely beyond what Banagher imagine. He thought that the reason why they allowed Audrey to come along and investigate the “Box” was because she had the right to, but he did not think that this was to take a hostage to seal the actions of the Garencieres, or whether Zinnerman understood this—Banagher did not feel as betrayed as he was embarrassed by how he did not realize this, and lowered his head wordlessly. “Just treat it as a rule.” Conroy’s voice echoed blankly in this ball-shaped cockpit.

“It’ll take stages before adults can trust each other fully. No fool will give a large sum of money they don’t know of unless there’s a guarantor.”

“This sort of thing…”

“I understand how you feel. I want to see things like a Newtype too, but—”

Conroy suddenly stopped what he was saying midway through, and his body froze for a moment as he looked behind. Banagher too lifted his head, looked over Conroy’s shoulders, and exchanged looks with the figure standing behind. Audrey looked somewhat surprised as she moved her face away from the hatch, “Sorry for interrupting your conversation.” and wanted to leave. “No, it’s fine.” Conroy however answered as he gave a different composed look at Audrey, stuffing the handgun into Banagher’s hands.

“You’ve finished all you wanted to say, right?”

His face was smiling, but the smile could not hide the murderous intent in his expression. Banagher grabbed the gun and stuffed it in the gap between the back and the linear seat. Just like this, Conroy left the cockpit; he looked in from through the hatch, and turned away, wanting to move away. “Lieutenant Commander Conroy.” Audrey, who was standing at the hatch, called to the person that was about to leave.

“Have you heard of the term lingering thoughts?”

Conroy’s body froze for a moment, “Lingering…thoughts?” and asked back as his eyes blinked for no apparent reason. Audrey took a step towards him.

“Mr. Aaron said that if the Psycommu has the strength to gather people’s wills, it can work beyond the boundaries of life and death. In other words, the wills of humans that are not certain to be dead have the possibility of being used by the “Unicorn”.”

Conroy must have felt that these words were beyond his expectations. “Of course, these are baseless hypotheses.” Audrey however smiled as she continued.

“But if you think of it this way, you can understand why the “Unicorn” can increase in power at such an abnormal rate. This machine absorbs the lives of those related to it, and bind us together. Banagher’s father, the Neo Zeon soldiers, and definitely, the man who sacrificed his life to protect Banagher, Commander Daguza Mackle’s soul,…”

She said this as she looked up at the lone horn of the “Unicorn”. Banagher looked at the side of her face. Her expression showed that ths ewas already aware of the thoughts the adults around them had, but even so, she never showed despair; she must not show despair, and act as the role people expected her to be. Conroy’s stunned expression recovered somewhat as he brought his feet together, showing respect in his eyes. To a soldier like him, words that respect his dead commander would be the greatest compliment to him. Banagher felt the warmth of humans in this unknown machine called the “Unicorn”, and felt an inkling of redemption. He looked at Audrey sidelong, and though she was smiling, her expression was somewhat dull as she watched Conroy leave, causing Banagher to recall the gloom she had for the past few days.

The occasion gloom she showed was not just she was fatigued about the role she had to play. He called her to join him while wanting to know the truth behind it, but did not expect things to end up like this—he closed his eyes and bit his lips, deciding that he must not let her discover the handgun as that hard foreign rested on his back.

===Part 8===

It was a large ship beyond common sense, but the mobile suit deck of the “General Revil” was not so wide that it was jaw-dropping. Whether it was the high of 7 levels, or the size that allowed it to contain a dozen mobile suits, it was still about the same size as the “Nahel Argama” deck. This could even be considered smaller than the one on the “Ra Cailum”, but the decisive difference this ship had compared to the rest was that it had 4 of such mobile suit decks.

4 platoons, 48 mobile suits were docked in their respective decks, and each platoon had their own territories, ranging from the resupply deliveries to their daily lives. This 3rd deck was the territory of the Clifford platoon, and the 12 Jegan-types were kept in the deck, 6 machines on both sides on the deck facing each other, but Riddhe did not recognize the faces and names of their pilots.

Dressed in the black pilot suit, he deliberately isolated himself because of his falsified history; there was no reason for him to get along with the pilots on the same deck, and nobody in particular was willing to go all the way out just to talk to him. He experienced this atmosphere on the “Ra Cailum” before, but the anxiety and sense of isolation he felt on this ship was far beyond the days he spent on Earth, making the latter a piece of cake. His body was tired from the training, and he leaned on the railing of the catwalk as he looked at the one existence that had any relation to him at this point. The black machine “Banshee” stood at the hangar, and the lone golden horn was the only thing reflecting light as it stood at a corner of the deck as it remained as a non-regiment unit in the corner of the deck.

''“The horn can be viewed as a highly powerful and polar radar that can detect the enemy’s Psycowaves. Once the machine detects the existence of a Psycommu machine, the horn will split apart to form blade antennas to become a highly mobile state used for combat…the Destroy mode. The one controlling its activation here is the NT-D, and this is a common specification for the Unicorn-type, but the system for Unit 01 was obviously activated. This is probably caused by the Laplace Program Cardeas installed. Looking at the current records, the “Unicorn” NT-D will scan not only the outside, but also the pilot inside. Once it senses the Psycowaves of the pilot instead, it will activate its Gundam-system. In this sense, it isn’t the original Newtype destroyer, but a subform of what we should call the Newtype-Drive system.”''

Alberto’s voice from before echoed, and Riddhe’s fatigued head started to ache. He grabbed onto the handrail tightly, and stared at the black machine he still could not pilot.

The Psycommu system’s agility increases drastically with the co-activation of the Psycoframe. In the past, the Psycommu transfers the thought waves into digital data and handles them, but the Unicorn-type Psycoframes can receive the Psycowaves of the pilot even under vague situations. Simply put, it can receive the Psycowaves before the pilot thinks or says out…even the murmuring of the pilot, and react according. Due to the extremely intrinsic calculations of the system, the Unicorn-type can even interfere with the enemy’s Psycommus and control weapons like funnels. However, the problem is that the massive calculations will be a burden to the pilot’s head. You have heard of the corrosion effect when the Psycommu system is in place. A Cyber-Newtype can forcefully clear out a part of their brain as an empty area, and in theory, it is possible to have a man-machine interface, but an ordinary person can’t do this. The Psycowaves amplified by the Psycommu will form a tremendous pressure on the pilot once it flows back into the head. The antagonistic intent and fear will expand to a point where it can’t be handled and would affect the pilot’s mental state…a strong fear will control the pilot, and sometimes, even cause the system to malfunction.”''

The downside to controlling a machine that could be controlled like the pilot’s limbs was that the pilot had to endure the stress on the machine. Thus, Cyber-Newtypes would deliberately leave openings in their mental state…this was what Alberto was going, that humans were too complicated that they could not be synchronized with the machine. It would be better to keep the instincts that would trigger the sixth sense, and remove all other aspects of the soul. This was what the Newtype Research Facility concluded.

Of course, this was a bone-chilling topic. The researchers who would make such a conclusion, the technicians who created the system were both traitors to humanity; but though Riddhe agreed with the notion that they were traitors, it did not matter to him as he wanted that power. it had been 3 days since he started training to familiarize himself, but the “Banshee” still would not get in sync with him. Despite managing to activate the NT-D in the mock simulations, he could not trigger the expected mobility, and even till this point, he did not experience this high mobility that was like instantaneous movement. This may be a machine built for Cyber-Newtypes, but he could not use that as an excuse. In fact, Banagher activated the NT-D in his first battle and piloted the “Unicorn Gundam”.

According to Alberto, Banagher was swallowed by the system several times in the beginning, and nearly lost control of himself. However, he had learnt how to control the system completely. Riddhe would experience this power of the controlled “Unicorn” the moment he clash with Banagher directly. ''How did that boy, who never hid his feelings, get such a power? How do I beat him? Do I need a strong will that can control the system and a firm heat? The source of his vigor, that thing shining from deep within the eyes is—''

“You’re too tense.”

At that instant, a familiar voice rang in his ears, causing Riddhe to freeze. He knew who the voice belonged to, took a breath to get ready, and turned his breath.

“Your soul and body are too tense. It’s rare to see someone with impressive abilities like yours, but this is really a waste.”

Nigel said the exact same thing he said before as he approached on the narrow catwalk. Riddhe had thought the Tri-stars were in another deck, and did not worry that they would meet, but it was too late to ignore Nigel at this distance as he brought his feet together. Nigel scanned all over Riddhe from head to toe, stopped at the Vist Foundaiton logo on the pilot suit chest, “So you’re the pilot of the second unit?” and smiled as he said this.

“The man who should be receiving direct orders from the Senate Council is now the personal pilot of the Vist Foundation…that’s quite a vagrant life you have there, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Is there anything, Lieutenant Nigel?”

“it’s nothing, just that we meet on the same ship. It’s okay to come over and greet, is it not?”

The inscrutable smile and the inexplicable stare were looking back at Riddhe’s face, no different from how it was on the “Ra Cailum”. Riddhe was reminded of the time he was shamed on Earth as he faced that stare, and looked away, trying to find some place he could look at on the deck below. However, Nigel did not seem to mind as he walked towards Riddhe, and his hulking figure in the grey officer uniform rest on the handrail.

“Looks like you’re not enhanced yet.”

Nigel’s probing stare looked as though it could see through Riddhe’s faltering heart as he said with a doubtfully teasing voice, causing the latter’s fists to tremble.

“That transport ship “Garencieres” was a decoy; we bit on it, and our mothership was sunk by the Red Comet”. Including our allied machines, more than 400 people were turned into space dust. If the higher-ups had revealed all the all the information, the outcome would be different.”

The end of those words was filled with cold spite. Riddhe turned his stare to the side of Nigel’s face.

“But it can’t be helped. Pilots can only do the best of what they could in such situations. I thought that you’re the same as us even though you’re commanded by the Senate Council directly, but it looks like I’m wrong.”

“…What does that mean?”

“I’m asking if you’ve lost sight of your current role as a pilot now. You became a pawn of the Foundation just to make up for some things you lack. A pilot with a normal brain will never think of riding such a monstrous machine. Even if you want to work with this ship, you should be here in the “Delta Plus”.”

Nigel looked down at the “Banshee” that was surrounded by the personnel related to the Foundaiton. Riddhe increased the strength on his grip.

“It’s the same thing when you think that you can’t beat the “Unicorn” without this. It’s not a pilot’s way of thinking to think that you can give up your heart just to win. I feel that I’m getting hot-headed over a paranoia-ridden brat now, no?”

“Even if you say that’s the case, so what?”

Riddhe felt the sharp pain hitting his chest, and his sense of rationality that was restraining himself not to answer was forgotten. Nigel however did not let Riddhe escape from his accidental slip of tongue, “This really annoys me.” He said with a forceful tone.

“I didn’t think I have such a guy in the same squad.”

“Just shoot me in the back if you want. I’ve done my best here. Even if our methods are different, there’s no reason for me to hear your grumblings.”

“Is selling your soul to a machine the best method?”

“A pilot isn’t exactly smart enough to care about everything else, right? We’re technically machines if we’re talking about it, machines hired to defeat the enemy, meant to eliminate Zeon—“

“THIS IS JUST AN EXCUSE!”

Nigel roared as he grabbed Riddhe by the shoulders, pulling the latter close. He used the railing to maintain a center of gravity, and in response to Nigel’s act, Riddhe floated, unable to resist.

“If there are no choices to choose, you can only use your brain to decide. This is something a pilot can do, and you now lost the ability to make the correct decision. What caused you to become like this? What are you—”

“It’s the “Unicorn”. I just want to beat it and prevent its secrets from being falling into Neo Zeon hands. Are you terrified of it too, Lieutenant?”

“What…?”

“You’re scared of the “Unicorn” too. You wanted to deny that you’re scared of it; that’s why you chased it into space. I understand your feelings, and it’s true that this is not a joke. This Newtype thing that has no basis of belief at all, denying my ability—”

A blunt sound rang, and Riddhe’s vision was tilted horizontally. He was hit, and the moment he realized this, he felt his head heat up at that instant as it hit the wall, and he bent his body.

He did not look at the blobs of blood floating in the air as he clenched his fist and kicked the wall. ''Everyone’s just saying whatever they want, trampling me below. You don’t know anything at all, and I’m sick of such criticism.'' He ignored the face that Nigel was a superior officer, and was about to swing his fist at the latter’s face, “Hold it”, however, someone called out, and at the next moment, the fist let out a blunt impact that hit the face.

The person who got between them stumbled in front of Nigel, the latter’s eyes wide with shock. Alberto placed his hand on the wall and supported his body that was sent flying. “Goodness…” he muttered as he pressed on his redden cheek, shaking his head as he looked over at the dumbstruck Nigel, and then stared back at Riddhe. The latter did not understand what was going on as he blinked his eyes and looked at that thick fact.

“Please don’t do such a thing, Lieutenant Nigel. It’ll be troublesome if the personal pilot of the Foundation is here.”

“…I think I’m the one who nearly got hurt here.”

“You’re planning to deliberately take the hit from the Ensign, charge him for insubordination, and pull him down from the “Banshee”, right?”

''Is that so?'' Riddhe never thought of this before, and Nigel did not look back at the suspecting look as he turned his troubled look aside.

“I understand now. You mean you’re mentally prepared already? Ensign Riddhe, Mr. Alberto.”

Alberto wiped away the blood that oozed from his mouth and showed that condescending smile from before. Nigel answered with a wry smile that lasted for less than a second, and looked at Riddhe wordlessly before leaving the scene. Once the long shoulder-length hair disappeared from the area, Alberto heaved a sigh of relief. “Why…” Riddhe clenched his hurting fist as he looked at Alberto’s face sidelong and asked.

“It’s just like what I said. We can’t lose the pilot of the “Banshee” here.”

Alberto stepped off the floor without turning back. “I don’t want to take this punch for no good reason, so you better calm down.” his figure drifted far away as he said this, and Riddhe felt the pain on his cheeks increasing, and the emotions he had been trying to suppress overwhelmed him, urging him to bawl.

Alberto and Nigel both looked like adults here, while Riddhe, who accumulated the urge he was unable to release, looked pathetic as he continued to sulk alone. Shame and self-loathing exploded in him, “Hold it.” released in a form of words, and he suddenly let loose a line he did not think of a second ago,

“ENHANCE ME!”

Alberto, and even Riddhe himself was stunned. “Are you serious?” the former stopped and turned around to ask, and Riddhe affirmed it as he looked at Alberto in the eyes. ''I can’t beat the “Unicorn” in this situation, and I can’t pilot the “Banshee” well. Instead of being embarrassed for being unable to do anything, I might as well—''the words driven by his impulse appeared in his heart as he gave a look showing that he was looking deep into his own heart, but he was stunned by Alberto’s sudden chortle.

“Don’t kid around. The enhancement of the mental state will turn the inferiority of the user into antagonistic intent. The you now will only end up on the path to self-destruction.”

“I just want to—”

“And if that were so convenient, I would have tried it myself. That is, if drugs and brainwashing alone is enough to enhance the soul.”

These unexpected words interrupted Riddhe, and Alberto turned his back on the former. “It’s really weird.” The self-depreciation voice came out, causing the buzz on the mobile suit deck to disappear in an instant.

“When I was about to die on the “Garuda”, I recalled. ‘I guess I can leave the future affairs of the Foundation to Banagher’…I certainly heard father say this more than 10 years ago.”

''Father.'' This word entered Riddhe’s mind, and he recalled the unexpected relationship they had. If Alberto were the heir, the father would be Cardeas Vist, and if the former was the latter’s true son, he and Banagher would be—

“Ever since mom died of a heart attack, I was placed in a boarding school. I accidentally heard of these words when I returned home after graduating from university. I knew that father brought his mistress into the house, and that they had a child, but to a young man who had been learning to work in the Foundation, this was a huge shock to me.”

''Did the relationship with Martha begin before then?'' Riddhe thought, but realized that this was not important, and looked away from Alberto. No matter what the reason was, this misstep broke the fragile relationship between father and son forever. Riddhe himself would never be able to face his father properly again…

“But I forgot about this in the long run. I thought my hatred of my father was because he used his strong self as a basis, lacked care for the weak, and caused my mother to commit suicide. When I heard the name Banagher Links, I did not think he was anyone related to me until someone mentioned so. I probably sealed my memories unconsciously, just like he did. But my mind and body still remember. Thus, when I knew that father was about to give the “Box” away, I used my hands…”

Alberto stared at the hands raised to his chest and slowly clenched them. Riddhe, who had seen his covert operation on “Industrial 7”, was able to guess what Alberto used his hands to do. He felt an icy cold wind blow by, and looked at the back figure that had no one to rely on. “The memories I forgot completely remained rooted deep in my heart, and decided my present fate.” Albeto continued as he let his relaxed hand float aimlessly.

“And brainwashing of Cyber-Newtypes is an artificial way to do this, but this will not get us a strong will. Instead of thinking about such useless things, you’re better of getting used to the “Banshee”. What you and I need most now is the power to control the situation, and this can be obtained by beating the “Unicorn”. Make good use of your current position, and I’ll make good use of you.”

Alberto finished, and his figure kicked the floor as he truly disappeared from Riddhe’s eyes this time. The similarly red and swollen face disappeared past the door, and the atmosphere of isolation surrounded the catwalk. The alliance the Federation government and the Vist Foundation had for a hundred years was renewed in this generation, and Riddhe, who could only accept the current changing scenario, let his eyes drift towards the “Banshee” lying in a corner of the deck.

What he needed was the power to control the current situation…he had to take back what was taken from him, and affirm the power he chose. No matter what he chose, Mineva would never return to him, and he understood that well. But he told himself that his personal problems were different from the “Box”, and he continued to look at the black machine. As the pilot thought of trekking deeper into the abyss, the “Banshee” merely stared at the opposite wall with its emotionless face.

===Part 9===

(All hands, this is the Captain. We shall now head to the coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program and investigate the “L1 Junction”. All investigation teams are to sortie in order, and all hands are to buck up in the anti-air supervision.)

Captain Otto’s voice rang through the open circuit, and the mobile suit deck start to draw out air. Banagher saw the ‘AIR’ on the display board turn red, (RX-0, please step onto the mobile suit deck. We’re awaiting good news from you, Banagher.), and then heard Mihiro’s voice. “Roger that.” He answered as he stepped on the pedal slightly.

The “Unicorn”, wielding the beam rifle on its right hand and the shield on its backpack, started to move forward as it left the hangar. It let the hooks on the feet sink into the deck indentation, and for every step it trudged forward, a quake-like rumbling reached the cockpit. Banagher sensed that Audrey, who was sitting on the assistance seat beside him, was a little tense, and there was an unnerving weight on the right foot as he pressed down on it, causing him to curl his lips. The automatic handgun Conroy gave him was stuffed in the right ankle holster. ''it’s not wrong to say that this is a standard equipment for a pilot, but I wonder if Audrey will mind?'' Banagher wanted to look over at the assistance seat on the right side, but sat Zinnerman and company standing in a corner of the deck, causing him to be unable to breath.

The man dressed in civilian normal suits brought in from the “Garencieres” was looking back at him from the catwalk with his black eyes—an insuppressible urge suddenly rose in Banagher, and he stopped the machine at the elevator leading to the deck. “Banagher?” Audrey called out, “I’ll be back.” but Banagher answered, opened the hatch, and leapt out of the cockpit.

“Captain!”

The air inside the hatch was sucked outside, and Banagher yelled out as he floated towards the catwalk. They were in the middle of moving out, and the noises were mixed around in the air. Even if Banagher called out loud, Zinnerman might not be able to hear him, but Banagher still did so, and the latter heard it. Zinnerman showed an ostensibly shocked expression for a moment, before backtracking away, and reached his arm over the railing to grab Banagher by the shoulder and pull him onto the catwalk. Banagher practically flew into Zinnerman’s clutches, and their helmets were touching each other’s.

“Thank you for believing in us, Captain.”

“Wha…what are you saying out of a sudden?”

“I feel that I haven’t thanked you properly…that’s all. Please keep watch here.”

For an instant, Zinnerman gave a stare through the visor that could see through someone else’s heart, and perhaps he had already seen how fidgety Banagher was within. He grabbed Banagher’s helmet with both hands, “We’re the one who need to request you.” This time, his bearded face closed in on Banagher, and the steady voice caused both helmets to vibrate.

“You have to come back. If the Princess gets even the slightest scratch, your life will be in peril.”

The black eyes were full of firm will, just like the stars above the African desert—those stars that would not boast about themselves, that would not guide their path as they continued to twinkle. Those were starts that could soothe anyone whenever they were needed, stars that had the warmth of human skin. This man would never betray him; he could not give up on the human heart, and Banagher had already witnessed this countless less. ''I’m just worrying too much.'' Once Banagher understood this, the goosebumps within him disappeared, “I understand.” He left Zinnerman, waved farewell to Flaste, and kicked hard at the catwalk railing to float towards the “Unicorn” cockpit.

(What are you doing, Banagher? You’re in the middle of a launch!)

Mihiro’s growl rang in his ears as he sat back on the linear seat. “I’m really sorry!” Banagher answered as he closed the hatch, let the “Unicorn” head towards the elevator, and apologized to Audrey on the assistant seat. The latter might had realized something as she shook her head slightly and showed a smile, but her expression immediately looked down. Amidst the tremors of the elevator that was starting to rise, the shadows from within shone onto the face under the helmet, leaving the cockpit in an isolated atmosphere no outsider could enter.

The first catapult deck in the middle of the ship was in vacuum. Banagher left the elevator, let the slipper-shaped catapult launcher attach itself to the feet of the “Unicorn”, and looked into space through the opened hatch. They could see the L1 region of the Moon, and the “L1 Junction” shone like a corroded moon in front of their eyes. ''This will be the last, or maybe—'' Banagher grabbed the control sticks before the following thoughts appeared, “We’re launching.” And said to Audrey,

“There’ll be a jolt from the launch. Watch up.”

“It’s fine. I once launched in a mobile suit together with Ensign Riddhe.”

The calm narrative voice caused Banagher to feel like he remembered a homework assignment he forgot to do. (Path’s clear. RX-0, please launch.) He was driven by Mihiro’s voice afterwards, “Got it.” and did not have time to reflect on Riddhe’s name as he answered. He could not deal with it even if he thought of it at this point, and there were other issues to prioritize. His mind forgot about the face of the person who once fought against him on Earth, exchanged looks with Audrey, and looked forward with no intention of looking back.

““Unicorn Gundam”, Banagher Links.”

“Mineva Zabi.”

“Let’s go!”

Their voices rang in unison, and the cable-powered catapult was activated. The portside catapult deck that was heavily damaged slid by, and the gliding deck protruding at the bow disappeared from the feet as the all-view monitor showed an endless void. Banagher endured the revolting sense of the blood flowing to his back as he checked on the laser communication with the “Nahel Argama”, and used the AMBAC propellers to turn the “Unicorn” around. There was no problem with the reaction speed, control feeling, etc. The newly calibrated beam rifle and shield he drew from the spare supplies responded well with the machine. Once he knew that the repaired mechanical arm was fine, his body felt contented, and the space that was devoid of air resistance and gravity was like a familiar backyard to him. The “Unicorn” rolled sideways, lit its thrusters, and flew in a straight line towards its target.

The Type 94 Base Jabber was launched from the “Nahel Argama”, and the bed-shaped machine ferrying 2 “Lotos” launched behind the “Unicorn”. The “Lotos” ferrying Conroy and company were to first reach the “L1 Junction” and check the inside of the facilities. (Listen, Banagher, no matter how trivial it is, report any anomaly you see.) Conroy reminded, “Got it. Please take care of me here, ECOAS” and Banagher answered as he ignored the handgun strapped to his ankle. (We’ll make a move first. Head straight towards the ‘light tower’.) After saying this, the 9-type Base Jabber dragged a trail of thruster light as it glided by from the side.

Banagher waited for that light to enter the stars, and took a deep breath. It would take another 5 minutes for him as he was moving to the target through inertia; the coordinates for the ‘L1 Junction’ was fixed, and he just need to let the machine move on its own. “Are you alright?” Banagher looked back at Audrey, and took off his helmet. It was against the rules, but he had to do this to prevent voices from entering. Audrey, who was prompted by Banagher’s stare, removed her helmet too. Her deep inhaling rang beside Banagher’s ears, and this proved how heavy the pressure the atmosphere in the ship was bearing on her.

“The emergency call will reach the console speaker. You can relax.”

“Do I look that tense?”

The expression looked unexpectedly cute, and Banagher looked back at her with a smile. “Is that so…” Audrey lowered her chin slightly as she looked at the space beside them. The space region that was replicated through CG was slightly blue, and it was insufficient to change their mood. Her sidelong expression, which seemed to be blaming herself for the lack of experience, was immediately filled with a blank relaxation, and Banagher felt that the gloom he saw before was covering that frail white face.

He wanted to see the true identity of this gloom, and if possible, remove it so as to create an atmosphere both of them could share in—but he did not know how to speak up. There were a lot of things he could have talked of, but none of which formed in his heart. After several seconds of silence, he looked in front.

On thinking about it carefully, he knew nothing about Audrey. He did not know her interests, her habits, or even her birthday, but he felt that they understood each other. One would have to wonder why that was so. It was a long, long time ago since the last time they were alone like this, and there were so few times they were together. After a moment a hesitation, he looked at Audrey, “Audrey…” “Well…” but their voices interrupted each other, and they were at a loss of what to do. Banagher’s mind was filled with a blank, and he forgot what he wanted to say.

Pressured by the emerald eyes looking at him extremely closely, he turned his eyes away awkwardly and looked forward. The sound of the generator was the only thing occurring as silence descended upon them. “Banagher, do you believe in it?” after that, Audrey’s voice broke the silence, and Banagher turned his stare towards her eyes.

“Can we…Neo Zeon and Federation really coexist together?”

It felt as if they wanted to pull out this heavy object slowly, but the tremendous weight crashed upon them. With the sincere stare looking at him, “…The results had shown, isn’t it?” Banagher did not look away this time as he cautiously answered,

“Regardless of country and military, everyone should have a world they feel. If everyone believe—”

“The result isn’t out yet. I don’t know, what will happen before we get the “Laplace Box”…?”

“Audrey…”

“On Earth, I saw a lot of things when I was in Ensign Riddhe’s house.”

With the Earth behind her the size of a tennis ball, Audrey was looking at a certain place that did not belong. Banagher could only look at the side of her face.

“What the Earthnoids were thinking, how they viewed things, the ideals of the people who created the system called the Federation, the scars Zeon left that could not be erased…even after knowing this, this Mineva Zabi is unable to live in such a world and experience their lives. I understood that the world I knew before was so small.”

There was a thin smile, and one could not help but think of the term ‘self-deprecaiation’. Banagher was unable to bear watching on as he lowered his head. “That’s why I can’t be imprisoned by my own narrow views. I need to see the world with a wider view, regardless of Federation or Zeon; this is what I really think. But maybe even I can’t accept this view. I thought of this several times when I was on Earth. I really can’t understand these people at all, I can’t find a common agreement with them…”

The word uneasiness was enough to describe the gloomy rising from her slender shoulders, and her clenched fists were trembling. She was uneasy that she could not be certain of her own actions, but even so, she had to try her best to keep bluffing; she had a pressure to be very certain of herself, and a self-guilt of fooling everyone. All of this became corrupted as it resonated with his uneasiness of the future, and he felt a mysterious sense of relief spreading deep within his heart.

He was mystified by these emerald eyes, and saw that she was supporting him again—he felt relieved knowing that all this was not true. As long as he believed that her starting point was not wrong, he would have no objections against accepting the current situation, and he could only prepare himself for the future. ''As long as I’m with her, there’s always a way,'' Banagher suddenly thought of how he himself believed in this baseless theory.

“I saw a lot of things on Earth too.”

Banagher said to this Audrey Burne he met again. The latter lifted her head slightly, showing her eyes that were full of natural emotions, the same eyes he saw on “Industrial 7”.

“I nearly had a calamity in the desert, and I think I understand why humanity’s so bent on destroying the Earth. The human body is too weak to live nature. The natural these nature activists talked of is natural in the sense that it helps humans, but most of it can’t be helped. As long as humans remain as beings who want to live better lives, they won’t be able to avoid going against nature. I should say that this is natural for humans.”

“Someone once said before that everything starts with kind intentions…”

“I thought of it too. The Universal Century was started out of goodwill. The Spacenoids talk about Ere-ism…the drive to preserve Earth as a hometown, but it just feels so off-tangent because of the lack of experience in this sense. The Spacenoids can’t understand as their sense of nature is obtained from space.”

“Spacenoids’ sense of nature…?”

“I’m thinking of Newtypes are really like this. There’s the thinking that there’s a need to expand the senses humans have in order to make up for the overly wide space, but it’s impossible to experience this without going to space, no?”

Audrey blinked her eyes while looking surprised, nodded and showed an expression of understanding. Banagher lifted the fragments of thoughts in his head and continued,

“And as long there’s a possibility that humans may be abandoned in space, Earthnoids will never accept the thoughts Spacenoids have. Spacenoids can’t accept that the people left on Earth had special rights, and because of this twisted thinking, they did extreme things like throwing down a colony. It can’t be helped that there’s no common understanding, but the important thing is to understand that both sides are living in different worlds. It’s just like you said, that the world we live in can’t change. Once we admit that we’re living in an imperfect world and look for that path to near perfection…”

“A path to near-perfection…are you saying that’s a Newtype?”

“If we follow the definition Zeon Deikun laid out, there’s still no real Newtype born, though I hope that a few are standing at the door.”

Someone worthy of being entrusted with the “Box”—a real Newtype; no matter what his father thought, nobody other than God should decide this. The system hidden in the “Unicorn” relied on the machine to detect the brainwaves, including the artificial Cyber-Newtypes, and there was no real way to determine a real Newtype. It was the same thing as how a single-celled organism floating in the sea of beginning could never predict the evolution of life millions of years later.

“Fate can’t be changed, but destiny can. I have everything now…right?” Audrey muttered to herself as she looked at the moon a size larger than a basketball. That uneasy look on her face was erased somewhat. “You’re the same as us.” Banagher followed up on her words as he too looked at the Moon in front.

“Whether it’s the psycoframe that can move celestial bodies, or the “Laplace Box” that can change the world; as long we know such things truly exist, they will feel that humans really shouldn’t argue in this situation.”

“Yeah. This is…”

“They’re still in the “Nahel Argama”, but people like the Captain believe in such possibilities. The Federation and Neo Zeon…the common understanding between Earthnoids and Spacenoids is possible. Maybe the release of the “Box” will be the chance for this.”

Audrey thought of something, but could not say so as she lowered her head, showing gloom on her face again. “Of course, this is an observation based on my hopes.” Banagher hurriedly added on, but she suddenly lifted her head, and let her emerald eyes close in on him.

“I want to believe this too.”

She reached her arm out and grabbed Banagher by the upper arm. The forceful strength spread through the fabric, causing him to feel his heart race. ''Convince me…''was the voice that rang the voice of reality, or the ‘voice’ resonating deep within his heart? Banagher was unable to determine as his eyes were rendered immobile by the lips in front of him, and he unwittingly moved his hand onto the back of Audrey’s own hand.

[[Image:KSGU8_171.jpg|thumb]]

Time stood still, and it seemed that everything other than those two vanished. Banagher smelled a whiff of sweetness from the hair as he closed his eyes. Audrey held her breath, and their faces were almost touching as the lingering warmth from her face agitated his nose. Banagher predicted that their lips were going to touch each other, and was unable to think of anything; at that instant, an annoying breathing sound suddenly rang, causing their bodies that were almost united as one to suddenly freeze up.

(T-minus 60 till the designated location. It’s about time to open the wireless communicator, you two.)

Conroy’s voice rang, and he sounded like he heard everything, causing Banagher to experience what it meant for his face to flare up. He immediately looked forward and answered with a slightly higher pitch than usual, “Understand.” He did not have the guts to exchanged looks with Audrey, who hurriedly sat still and put on her helmet again, and he let his stare escape to the ‘L1 Junction’ that could be identified with the human eye. The snowflake shaped object was glittering as it reflected the distant sunlight, and the light tower in space continued to draw an intricate tessellation in space even as it remained this empty.

“It’s so pretty…” Audrey said. Banagher however abandoned all words that would match this atmosphere as he turned his stare to the coordinates meter on the display board. Once he was certain that it was almost 0, he checked the functions of all other systems. The Laplace Box showed no signs of activating, and for a short while, an awkward atmosphere remained in the cockpit.

===Part 10===

(This is ECOAS 920. We’ve arrived at the target. The RX-0 is headed to the designated coordinates.)

(Just like the time at the Prime Minister Residence, don’t miss out on any minor changes in the sensors. We have no idea what’s coming, whether it’s electric waves, magnetic waves, radiation or whatever.)

Once Captain Otto’s excited voice ended, a sound from the throat reached the man’s ears, and the sense of resistance pressing on his hands immediately vanished.

Zinnerman removed the hand pressing onto the man’s throat from behind, and pushed the body away. He then grabbed the guard that was floating down the corridor, pulled him into the wareroom, and stuffed him into a corridor packed with cardboard boxes. This was the second man—and it was really easy. His heart felt a sense of hesitation, but his body remembered what he had to do. Alec and the rest on the other team were probably thinking of how to carry out this operation so that they could end things. Zinnerman exchanged looked with Flaste, who was tying the first man with the cable, nodded, and took the wireless communicator from the guard. ''There’s nothing to be mindful of when we start.'' He repeated the words in his heart, and brought the communicator to his mouth.

“Everything’s going as planned.”

''Creak creak.'' The noise shook the radio, indicating that the other party understood, and that they were proceeding as planned. Zinnerman turned his back on Flaste, who was tying the second man, and brought the hardened plastic attaché case to his hands. This attaché case he took from the “Garencieres” had the private items used for a Captain’s log. Naturally, the crew on this ship had inspected it, but in the end, they never found out that the buttons and the attaché case’s dial lock could be disassembled to found parts of a mini-handgun, and the handle could become the barrel.

There were 5 of the fire extinguishers they snuck in; they had to deal with these guards before they could take control over the armory of the ship. Zinnerman checked that it was time for the decisive moment, and focused on the assembly of the gun. Flaste, who stuffed the second man into the cardboard boxes, “I didn’t expect such a lack of resistance at all.” And said with a suspiciously forced voice.

“It’ll all depends on what the Princess and the brat do next…”

''Is this really alright?'' the glance that was looking over asked. ''There’s nothing wrong here. We’re Neo Zeon soldiers, this is a Federation ship. We can’t think too much, and there’s no need for us to do so.'' “Don’t worry.” Zinnerman answered, slid the assembled mini-handgun, checked the sights, and blew away the dust on the chamber.

“The Princess’s more mature than we think, unlike that brat.”

The face of the boy, who leapt out from the cockpit and flew over like a puppy, flashed in his mind. ''It can’t be helped. You live in a different world from us.'' He loaded the 6 25mm bullets into the magazine, let the thumb press on the slide lock, and unlocked the safety to chase after the image in his mind. The sound of the first bullet being loaded shook the air of the wareroom, pressing down slightly on the chest that swallowed the seed of guilt.

===Part 11===

The ‘L1 Junction’ was as elegant looking as a piece of jewelry, but had parts that offset the beauty mercilessly. The thick stabilizing cable running through the central core area was 10m in diameter and 7km long, forming a straight line through the two sides of the snowflake crystal.

There was a need to accept two gravity sources in order to stabilize the center of the gravities—the attraction forces from both the Earth and the Moon, and the cable reaching to the sides of each celestial body worked like a pendulum. The “Unicorn”, which was approaching the ‘L1 Junction’ from the Earth, followed the cable, approached the snowflake-shaped core, and reached the designated coordinations.

The range of the coordinates included the space of a 1km diameter with the ‘L1 Junction’ at center. In space, this was an extremely small space. Banagher let the relative velocity of the machine slow down to match the ‘L1 Junction’ speed, and cautiously crossed the coordinate space. It had been 3 minutes since they reached, but the “Unicorn” machine did not change in any way. All systems were normal, and the Laplace Program was silent.

“So the condition is to activate the NT-D first?”

“That may be the case…but it immediately transformed the moment it reached when we were at the Prime Minister residence.”

As Audrey looked around, Banagher answered her, and looked at the time on the display board. It had been 4 minutes, and it was weird for the machine to not transform at all. Perhaps he had missed out on something.

“How’s the inside, Mr Conroy?”

(It’s just an empty wasteland. The solar battery power is still there, but most of the functions are dead. There hasn’t been any change ever since the investigation began.)

The two “Lotos” landed on the ‘L1 Junction Point’ 10 minutes ago; one of them entered the core area through the port, while the other checked the Moon side that was hidden from where they were. The sun was located at the Earth’s side, so the side checking from the Moon side could only rely on moonlight for lighting. The “Loto” was most probably in their mobile suit state, flashing the search lights on its shoulders as it move on the solar panels slowly; however, it was impossible for the “Unicorn” on the Moon side to see it. Banagher glanced aside at the Base Jabber remaining at the empty port and let the machine move towards the base of the stabilizing cable. He could see the ‘L1 Junction’ from up close, and it was not of the same size as a ship. It was not as large as a colony, but it was large enough to be a temporary port, to a point where it could be called a space island.

They were at a loss of what to do. They had no idea how big the “Box” was, let alone what it contained. There were no given instructions, and looking for it here would be a search for a pin in a haystack. Banagher knew that it was useless, but he summoned the ‘L1 Junction’ construct map that was downloaded beforehand, and stared at the 3D model. (It can’t change into the “Gundam”? It released the information just like this in Dakar.) Conroy said. “But I can’t change it that freely.”. As he answered, “Banagher”, Audrey’s anxious voice rang.

“Since it’s a plan your father came up with, I don’t believe it’s so one-sided, but what if the “Box” is an item that brings calamity…?”

The hand touched the helmet to cut the communication line for the time being, and the face could not be described simply as serious. “I understand.” After exchanging looks with the stare that was full of killing intent, Banagher answered,

“At that moment, I’ll destroy it and prevent it from falling into other people’s hands.”

These words the words he uttered in his heart once he wanted to know the true identity of the “Box”—when he wanted to know the ‘answer’. Banagher stared at the sighing Audrey, and looked up at the ‘L1 Junction’ which stood like a wall, blocking his sight. “But I don’t think that is it.” he said as he stepped on the pedal lightly.

“It depends on how we use it; it can be something that brings light to this world…right, it depends on who uses it. He even created a system to distinguish Newtypes for this purpose.”

The “Unicorn” left the core and moved towards the outermost region of the snowflake. The civilian ship light moved by from afar below their feet, becoming part of the stars. From the way it moved forward, it seemed to be a ship headed from the Moon to Earth. All ships moving on this course would have to move by the ‘L1 Junction’.

“The real identity of the “Box”, the path to reach it, it’s definitely simpler…”

He looked above, and could see a glowing object shining brighter than the stars. It was the light of the colony, Side 2 that was revolving around L. The Side 5 that revolved around L1—the shoal space region and the “Industrial 7” within it were no longer in sight.

“Starting from “Industrial 7”, the first place was the debris of the Prime Minister residence “Laplace”…”

“Laplace” was the place where the Universal Century began, blown up with the world leaders within due to a terrorist attack. Banagher recalled the speech he heard back then; the voice of the first Prime Minister of the Earth Federation from a hundred years ago, on the last day of Anno Domini, narrating the ‘past’ together with the remnants that were cruelly blown up—

“And next is Dakar, the capital of the Earth Federation…”

The Universal Century Manhattan stood in the middle of the hot desert, and the strengths and weaknesses of the system called the Federation were shown there. Mahdi Garvey’s madness that became a sandstorm strong enough to cut skin, Loni’s brilliance, race and religion, the karma that could not be held down as it swirled at the bottom, the symbol of the ‘present’ that stood on the scorching land—

''And then, what do I say now? What did father want to tell me by pointing here?'' Banagher let the “Unicorn” drift in space and looked around. The all-view monitor cut off the CG, showing the actual scenery of space, and he looked around together with the machine that was slowly turning around.

The cockpit that was surrounded by darkness became dim, and the white flare reflected from the ‘L1 Junction’ lit the place. ''No, I still don’t understand. Even if I’m determined to be a Newtype, I’m just a human who can only see what’s in front of me. Tell me!'' Banagher cried out in his heart. ''If the lingering thoughts are real and resting in this “Unicorn”, lead me to my path now.''

''The need to show the power of human gentleness to humanity; you said that this is the responsibility of humans that entered space. The ghost of “Laplace”, the First Prime Minister said the same thing too. That’s kindness, right? It’s the kindness that allows humanity to maintain its sanity, even in this harsh reality, even as we fight against all things unreasonable. As we journey the way to look for the “Box”, we see a side of truth to the Earth. We see the world that is mixed with good and evil, hard to decipher, struggling to search for the ‘light’. What happens next is the most important thing; to live in the possibilities brought about by kindness, to use this to survive, and to know what to take note of next. The body of flesh and blood accepts the ‘past’ and ‘present’, and what we should face next is—''

A heavy heartbeat shook Banagher’s body and rocked the cockpit. His heartbeat became one with the “Unicorn”, and every pulse caused Banagher to feel his senses expanding. He felt that his nerves were linked to the mechanical fingertips, toes, everywhere, to the point where his senses became as large as the mobile suit.

The Moon was at his feet, and Earth was above him. In front of him was an infinite space. The living beings born on the celestial bodies should be headed to the unexplored world next. They were still limited to this small area of the Earth celestial sphere, but this space was opened in front of them, waiting for humanity to use its power of gentleness to shine its light into the darkness in front of them.

Perhaps one day, as they expand on their senses and understand ways to match their thoughts, when they may even have control over time, this space would be left wide open in front of humanity. They would soon use time, space and possibilities that will never be used up easily and open an unknown territory.

''Through the past, the starting point where humanity still stands at this point, space, stars, and humans. The infinite presented by the 3 beings—the future.''

“…I understand, father.”

The words that were let out unwittingly became ‘light’, causing the forehead to let out a weak neural-like flash. That light became a V-shaped blade antenna that spread apart, and the luminous light that showed the luminous light of the psycoframe as the armor split apart, and the body of the “Gundam” appeared in vacuum.

However, all Banagher did was to open his eyes naturally. “Banagher…!?” Audrey’s doubtful voice agitated his hearing in reality, pulling senses back onto the little body resting on the linear seat.

The signal of the NT-D flashed, and the machine that transformed into the “Gundam” was shown in its active state. Banagher wanted to be sure if Audrey was fine, but realized that the attachments protecting his head were holding it down. ''There no need for this.'' The attachments were removed the moment he thought this, and his physical body obtained its freedom again as it nearly float up from the linear seat. As he wanted to turn towards the assistant seat, the numerous stars shown on the all-view monitor increased in brightness, and the beams that reached out started to intertwine like they were drawing a constellation.

It was like an Observatory, like a view of the developing brain from within; the flickering stars were linked by their own beams, drawing what seemed to be either a constellation or a neural system, and each area was showing a different light. There were the Earth, Moon and colonies; and just when he was about to check the time, see the respective locations, and confirm the condition of the mobile suit that was at the place, the “Unicorn Gundam” moved on its own, changed the direction it was facing, and pointed its main camera to a corner in space.

The beams let out by the stars formed arcs around the all-view monitor, pointing at a red dot in the front. Numerous beams vanished, ostensibly absorbed by the red light, leaving behind a light spot that pointed at a place far away, and the logo ‘La+’ appeared beside it.

“Banagher…”

Audrey muttered blankly as she looked at the coordinate data that was beyond her expectant. “Right.” Banagher nodded as his voice came out from his dry throat.

“This is the last coordinate…where the “Laplace Box” is.”

Audrey’s hand that was resting on his shoulder shuddered. Banagher shook his head and moved his eyes that were attracted by the light, and reached his hand to his helmet to check if the wireless communicator was cut off. “Leader Conroy, “Nahel Argama”! The final location of the “Box” is—” but the moment he wanted to say this out, a killing intent rose from below his feet, entering the cockpit, and a light rose, savagely burning a corner of his eyes.

The “Unicorn Gundam” reacted before Banagher could hold onto the control stick, and dodged on its own. The beam of the mega-particles let out a flash, covering the all-view monitor, and the explosions of scattered particles echoed through the cockpit.

Banagher drew the shield from his left hand and put it on the left hand as he let the machine zigzag, keeping his eyes at the source of the shot. The moment the navigation lights of the ships floating afar flashed by his eyes, a second shot was fired from there, and the I-field generator hidden inside the shield scattered the incoming high heat particles.

“At this time…!?”

''Is it Federation or Zeon?'' the enemy chose to hide amongst the passing ships, and Banagher raised the Beam rifle that was loaded with the Beam Magnum. The ‘Unicorn Gundam” psycoframe detected this as it piloted the machine, and moved about to find a place he could shoot from. The impact of the anesthetic jolted through the arm, and the air sacks hidden in the pilot suit pressed down on the lower body, preventing the blood from falling, and making the upper body feel warm and uneasy. However, there was a cry like a wild beast at the next instant, causing Banagher to feel his hairs stand.

“Audrey!?”

He turned his head that was held down by the linear seat. Audrey’s upper body was forced back as she was pressed down by the accelerating G-force that could kill, and it was impossible to see her expression. It was impossible to endure the high mobility of the destroy mode without using the pilot suit and the linear seat. Banagher immediately relaxed his foot on the pedal and tried to focus on the killing intent that was closing in from afar.

The mega-particles grazed past the “Unicorn Gundam” that slowed down, and the heat and shock plummeted on the machine. As the cockpit shook wildly, the ‘La+’ light in a corner of space spun above, and the red light flickered from time to time.

===Part 12===

The white machine on the enlarged window staggered to the right due to the shockwave of the mega-particles. Even if the enemy machine were to move out of his sights, there was no need to worry about missing it. The enemy’s movements were dull, and the mobility could be caught up with through the tracking system.

“That “Gundam” isn’t as amazing as what those rumors say. Keiman’s team is to deal with the “Nahel Argama”. I’ll handle this guy alone!”

Gilligan called into the wireless communicator and aimed the reticule of the beam launcher at the white machine. The low power of the generator caused the “Hizack” to be rather limited in its use of beam weaponary, but this custom unit had enough people to release the power of a sniper rifle. It had been less than 10 minutes since he launched from the mother “Gultoppr”, and he had already met this large prey. He aimed at the Zeon archenemy, the white mobile suit he saw several times on the documentaries, and let an umpteenth beam fly through the L1 space region.

The machine using the shield to block the front and deflect the scattered particles again went out of his sight. “Don’t you dare run away…!” Gilligan’s lips curled up as he said this, and used the AMBAC to balance himself as he stepped on the pedal. The thrusters on the back and legs let out flares, and as the “Hizack Custom” that was pursuing the “Gundam”, the 2 Keiman squadron “Hizacks” passed by below. The mobile suit squadron of the “Dromi” attacked from another direction, and Gilligan could see the “Mock Wooden Horse”—the “Nahel Argama” fire numerous anti-air shots.

It was a ship with its portside catapult deck damaged, but the number of fire trails was more than what he imagined. Keiman’s team could not attack, and scattered away. A series of missiles exploded in a corner, letting out huge fireballs that even the simulation shots could not compare to. The scattered dummy aerolite looked like Gilligan’s allied machines, causing him to feel cold sweat breaking.

''Attack in a large scale and distract the ship’s attention to the outside.'' This was the content of the wireless signal from the “Mock Wooden Horse”, and it was possible to guess the reasoning behind this. However, one could only imagine what the sender’s situation was like. 'What will happen if the other 2 mobile suits launch? Can we hang on until the sender takes action?'' This sudden thought caused Gilligan to tremble all over, but he felt his adrenaline rising, and the blood in his body felt a boiling sensation.

This was different from the mock drills of red team and blue team where he worked together with the people he knew at the Defense College. It was an enemy he had never seen before, and the sense of tension arose as he could not determine the current situation, where a single mistake in the prediction would lead to death. This was--

“War…is it…?”

He muttered and licked his dry lips. He remembered the useless weapon skills, the meaningless research he kept proceeding with were all for this moment. He remembered the days where he kept doing assignments he did not need to hand in and merely locked himself in the vault of self-satisfaction—this would be the day where he clear the vault. He nurtured skills, instincts and a hardy will in an old machine; he had to take down that “Unicorn” to prove that this was not all a waste.

Gilligan continued to let the “Hizack Custom” release its maximum thruster to pursue the “Gundam”, darting around, looking like it was all fluff and no substance as it escaped into the ‘L1 Junction’. He used the two manipulators to wield the beam launcher that was as long as the mobile suit itself, waited for the energy to charge, and squeeze the trigger. The beam flew in a straight line in this space of actual combat, shooting a black hole through the solar panel the “Gundam” was hiding at.

===Part 13===

“The Zeon Republic?”

The beam grazed by near the bridge as Otto repeated these words, and the flash and tremors overwhelmed all his senses. “That’s right!” The sensor operator roared with a voice no softer than the explosions.

“It’s the Musai-Kai class “Gultoppr” and “Dromi”! They requested for an offshore trip in the name of training their fleet!”

The sensor screen showed the CG of the Musai-Kai class ships and the data of the “Hizacks” that were attacking. If they were to believe the identification data on the records, both were weapons that were currently in active service for the Zeon Republic. To the “Nahel Argama”, who had been wary of the pursuit from the Federation and Neo Zeon, the real identity of this enemy was completely beyond their expectations— “What’s going on…” Otto muttered, but nobody was in the mood to answer him, and he turned his sights to the main screen. There were 8 “Hizacks”, including the enemy that was attacking the “Unicorn Gundam”. In contrast, the only mobile suits they could send out to intercept immediately were the “ReZEL” and the “Stark Jegan”. Even if they were facing old mobile suits that were produced more than 10 years ago, it would be tough for them against such overwhelming numbers. And if the Musai-Kai ships on standby were to start firing their cannons…

He regretted not deploying mobile suits to defend the ship just because they did not detect any enemies. The radar had already caught sight of the Republic’s ships, but who was to expect that this unrelated party would suddenly launch an attack? Otto slammed the Captain’s seat armrest hard, “Hasn’t the mobile suit squad launched yet!!!?” he roared, but Mihiro replied. “Negative! The enemy’s attacks are too intense—” her words were interrupted by an explosion from below their feet. (First generator room is on fire!) (Emergency response team! Your reaction is too slow! What are you doing!?) The furious calls through the ship communicator echoed in the bridge.

The engine was not hit directly, but the enemy’s attacks could be said to be indiscriminate. They had no intent of breaking through the anti-air fire, just doing hit and runs over and over again. If this were to keep up, who knew how long it would take before the bridge took a direct hit. Otto realized that nobody on the bridge was dressed in a normal suit, including himself, “Anyone can go. Just get the normal suits!” he yelled, “We sent someone here!” Liam replied loudly, her face showing some shadows lit by the flashes of the cannons.

“What is the “Gundam” doing!? Can’t we call him back!?”

“The line’s dead. He hid behind the ‘L1 Junction’, and it looks like he’s in a tough battle.”

“Tell the ECOAS “Lotos” to support him. The enemy’s using old mobile suits, so it shouldn’t be an opponent that’s tough to deal with—”

“That boy can’t fight properly.”

Upon hearing Liam’s murmuring, Otto swallowed the words he was about to say. “Princess Mineva is on board too, so…” he felt a chill as he saw how she was having difficulty expressing herself, and looked at the lights of explosions that occurred near the ‘L1 Junction’ outside the window. There was no need to imagine how it was like on the assistance seat lacking in G-force resistance, exposed to the monstrous mobility. He clicked his tongue upon realizing that he neglected to think about this, “But if this keeps up…” the moment he muttered, the door behind opened as the explosion rang.

''Are the normal suits here now?'' “Too slow! Hurry…!” Otto turned his stare behind his chair, but lost his voice as his body froze on the Captain’s seat. It was not the crew member who went to get the normal suit. The fatal anomaly that brought about this sudden scenario—the anomaly betrayed the little developments that happened for the past few days as it stood at the door of the Captain’s seat.

Liam too gasped as she remained rooted to the floor, but Mihiro and the sensor operator stopped what they were doing in shock. Otto had been feeling that the movements of each department had been remarkably slow ever since the battle began, and as he digested the overly perfect timing of the Republic’s attack, he realized the reality he was facing as he exchanged looks with the anomaly standing at the door. They exchanged stares for a while, and the submachine gun in this anomaly’s hand broke this standoff as the dark flash suppressor was looking over at him.

The one standing with the gun showed the expression of someone who understood how important this role was. Resistance is futile. As a commander, there is only one thing I can do—''the moment he grabbed onto the armrest tightly, “DO YOU HAVE NO SHAME…!” Liam hollered as she took a step forward. Otto wanted to stop her, but it was too late as the muzzle of the submachine gun let out a flash, creating a light that was more dazzling than the explosions outside the window.

===Part 14===

The enemy drew the beam saber from the shield on its shoulder, and charged right in with a bright glow that sliced through the darkness; however, this enemy made a fatal mistake. The blade hit the warning light of the solar panel before it swung down, and missed the chance to slash.

Banagher had a rough grasp of the overly straight and direct movement. It was easy to dodge it, and he could counterattack with the beam saber beside him, but he knew that Audrey would not be alright. He used the shield to block the slash, gave up on moving to the back of the enemy unit, and let the “Unicorn Gundam” retreat to the Moon side. ''I can’t use the thrusters.'' This thinking caused his reaction to dull, and he could not control the machine well as it spun in an awkward manner. His efforts to adjust his balance with the AMBAC were in vain as the machine let out a shock as it crashed into the stabilizing cable. “Leave me alone for now, Banagher!” Audrey’s loud voice echoed in this cockpit that was shaking tremendously.

“Fight properly! If this keeps up—”

The enemy “Hizack Custom” kicked itself off the warning lights pillar and approached quickly from near the feet, raising the beam saber in its hands. This however was the same pattern; Banagher knew that he would miss, but shot the Beam Magnum at the enemy unit. The mega particles compressed in the Magnum magazine were released, and a large beam exploded, grazing by the monoeyed giant. The solar panels in its path were scorched completely, and there were visible scars on this ‘L1 Junction’ that could be seen from afar. However, the distance was not close enough to take down an enemy through impact. Banagher let the machine approach the outermost area of the core and hid in the shadows of the panel joints; the “Hizack Custom” did not react as he expected, and did not fire back. Banagher was already in the enemy’s firing path, but the machine wielding the beam launcher seemed to panic as it retreated, and flew in a straight line to hide in a blind spot of the ‘L1 Junction’.

At this moment, another “Hizack” flew by from the other side of the Moon, frantically firing its machine gun. It did not try to suppress the “Loto” hiding in the core, looking for a chance to interfere in the battle as it stood on the same path as the other machine. Banagher aimed the barrel of the beam rifle to suppress it without even using his Beam Magnum, guessed that the enemy would dodge it, and fired the Vulcan cannons on its head. The 60mm physical bullets flew out in a fan, and the “Hizack” dodged just as Banagher expected, letting out a flash of a direct hit on the feet. The machine immediately dodged, but its thruster output was too much, and turned back to leave the battle space region immediately. The enemy unit had no intention to fire suppressing shots, forgot to work together with their allies, and only intended to come in with guts. ''Are they terrified after seeing the power of the Beam Magnum?''

“These guys are complete amateurs…”

He let out these words from his deflated body. It was not a question of machine functions, as the Zeon remnants on Earth had used machines older than the current enemies, and managed to fight the newest machines of the Federation to a standstill. It escaped from the shadows of the structure and flew above the solar panels. “That’s a Republic’s machine.” Audrey spoke at this instant, and Banagher again looked at the CG corrected image caught on the enlarged window.

Prompted by her words, Banagher realized that he had seen those shiny grey machines that were not suitable for combat on the news before. The news footage of the Federation space army exercise would occasionally have Zeon Republic mobile suits shown on it. ''Is it working with the Federation’s safety clause to attack a ship that defied orders?'' He looked at the machine that had the design of the “Sleeves”, but was vastly inferior in technology. “The Republic…” Just when he was about to ask back, the wireless communicator, hindered by Minovsky particles, let out a person’s voice that rang clearly amidst the noise.

(…Banagher, “Unicorn Gundam”, do you hear me?)

Banagher left the blind side of the ‘L1 Junction’, and it seemed that the laser communication had reverted back to normal. The signal position was automatically parsed through, and once the window caught sight of the enlarged visual of the “Nahel Argama”, the gruff voice he was used to hearing continued.

(This is Lieutenant Zinnerman. Cease battle immediately and abide by the Republic’s instructions. The “Nahel Argama” is currently under our occupation, and if you don’t follow our instructions, we will not guarantee the safety of the Captain and the crew.)

Banagher could not understand what he just heard as a blunt impact passed through his forehead. His body and mind were relaxed in an instant, and he was unable to move, “…What?” as he let out this question as he placed his hand on the helmet.

“I don’t understand, Captain. What are you saying? You occupied the “Nahel Argama”…”

(It’s exactly what I mean. As long as you follow my instructions, I won’t hurt you. Disengage immediately.)

The approaching alarm suddenly rang, and a part of his consciousness that nearly left returned to his physical body. The “Hizacks” which retreated for a moment drew a large arc as it closed in gradually. These two machines separated from each other, closing in in an encircling manner, obviously showing that they were in sync with this wireless feed. “Wa-wait a moment…” Banagher groaned as he let his back rest on the linear seat. His pulse was beating fast, and cold sweat was trickling down him.

“What’s going on, Captain!? Please explain, explain what you mean clearly!”

There was no response. The “Nahel Argama” was behind the approaching “Hizacks”, about 100km away from the ‘L1 Junction’, being extremely quiet. It did not launch any anti-air fire, and the Republic’s mobile suits were gradually gathered around the silent ship. ''What? What’s going on here?'' Banagher’s thoughts and stare kept wavering, and he turned his head to look at Audrey beside him. “Say something too, Audrey.” The lowered head however shook a little, and the emerald eyes looked back at him.

“The Captain’s acting weird. He seems to be mistaken about something. Come talk to him…”

The eyes that should be doubtful over the exact same situation remained full of gloom and doubt in the chilling silence. She, who had been preaching about the possibility of the Federation and Neo Zeon working together—no, the more she preached, the more doubtful she got. She was saying wordless that she knew this would happen, she was afraid of this, and she had gloomily accepted this situation that could not be reversed…

The hand grabbing her shoulder lost strength as it floated in space without a target. “How can that…” the words that were leaked out remained in the helmet, and Banagher opened it as he felt difficulty in breathing. Audrey too looked down, her expression not moving as the “Nahel Argama” too remained silent. ''What are you doing there?'' Banagher’s wavering stare looked on at the white ship as he muttered in his mouth. ''You can’t save anyone even if you do that. You understand this more than anyone else, who what are you doing there?''

“It’s the usual Captain, saying that he won’t forgive me if you get hurt, laughing like usual…this is too weird. Why is it like this? The Cap…Captain…”

“Zinnerman.”

Audrey interrupted Banagher’s never ending uttering as she lifted her head to say this. The latter was shocked by her, who was not Audrey, but had the expression and voice of Mineva, and stared at her sidelong silently.

“I command you, in the name of Mineva Zabi…you won’t listen even if I say this, right?”

(That’s right.)

“Is that so…how unfortunate.”

A tint of gloomy flashed by Audrey’s lowered face in an instant, and she opened the visor of the helmet to give an adamant look back at Banagher. She cut the communication line immediately and spoke quickly, “Banagher, destroy the “Unicorn”.” For a moment, Banagher could not understand what she just said.

“Zinnerman made contacts with the “Sleeves”, and the reinforcements will be here immediately. Before the “Box” lands in their hands—”

(Banagher, take Mineva Zabi as hostage.)

Another voice immediately rang in the helmet again, and Banagher widened his half-opened eyes.

“Mr Conroy…”

(It’s a critical situation now. This concerns the lives of the crew.)

Banagher looked at the source coordinates of the signal, and turned his stare to the ‘L1 Junction’ behind him. He could not identify the “Lotos” hidden inside the core area, and he could only see the vivid image of Conroy’s stern expression as the latter handed the handgun over. Banagher looked over and saw the automatic handgun strapped in the leather holster on his right ankle. There was a glossy black handle revealed from the gaps of the buckle—''use this to point at Audrey? Why?''

(Stop it Banagher, you can’t do it.)

Zinnerman’s voice interrupted, and his familiar voice echoed in Banagher’s mind as the latter pressed onto his helmet with both hands.

(Think about it, you can’t change anything if you hand the “Box” over to the Federation. Once they rebuild their coexisting relationship with the Vist Foundation, the Princess and the rest of us will be buried in the darkness. Think about Marida; you should know the methods they use here.)

“But the people on the “Nahel Argama”…Captain Bright won’t do this—”

(What can a mere soldier do? We can only do this to save them. If we aren’t divided between Federation and Neo Zeon, we should be thinking about the same thing.)

''This isn’t it.'' Banagher thought, but while he thought about why this was not the case, he could not think of an answer, and looked at Audrey. The emerald eyes were wordless, (Don’t be fooled) Conroy’s voice rang,

(They’re experts at lying. Don’t listen to them; you have the trump card here.)

(Are you going to believe those men who intend to use the Princess as a hostage? Come with us, Banagher. This is for the good of the Princess too.)

The “Hizack Custom” was already at a distance the human eye could see, aiming its beam launcher at Banagher’s unit, ready to fire anytime too, causing the latter to feel revolted. (This is Lieutenant Gilligan Eustace of the Zeon Republic army. Lower your weapon immediately and open the hatch…) Upon hearing the voice of the pilot, Banagher clenched his fist that was drenched in sweat. ''Destroy the machine, surrender to Neo Zeon, take Audrey as a hostage; everyone only cares about themselves, think about their own side. Is it right for me to destroy the “Unicorn” like this? Do I destroy this machine that is the only path to the “Box”, the one that sent me on a journey from the past, present and future, the path leading to Father’s ideals of wanting to present the possibilities of humanity—

(Do you hear me? Lower your beam rifle…)

The pilot’s hysterical voice continued. “SHUT UP!” Banagher however interrupted him as he used the momentum to step on the pedal.

The “Unicorn Gundam” suddenly accelerating and crashed into the “Hizack Custom” in front of it. The impact shook the cockpit, “Banagher…!” and Audrey shouted as she shook about, but he ignored her. He did not look at the “Hizack Custom” that was sent flying, and stared right at the white hull of the “Nahel Argama”.

''I haven’t thought of anything yet; I just want to see the Captain’s face. I can’t continue on with this conversation without us facing each other, and we won’t be able to understand each other like this. That profile took care of me when we crossed the desert; you held back in our fight above Dakar. You hated the meaningless massacre below you and allowed me to charge out silently—''

A narrow flash crossed by in front of his eyes, and his burning head was cooled by this dampener. He instinctively stopped and let the “Unicorn Gundam” turn at practically 90 degrees, but upon hearing a collapsed lung-like gasping, he felt the blood drain off from his body.

He forgot that Audrey was present too, and he turned his head back to see her limp there. “Audrey!” Banagher exclaimed as he shook her shoulder.

''Idiot, I’m an idiot. She’s the only one left I have to protect no matter what.'' He was driven by his fear and patted her face in the helmet several times; her trembling eyes opened slightly, and her unfocused eyes were looking back at him. The moment he was about to heave a sigh of relief, (Calm down, Banagher.) a new voice came in through the wireless communicator, causing Banagher to feel the numbness on his hand that was touching Audrey.

(Your actions will implicate many people’s lives. It is better for you not to mess around)

Some objects fired a trail of threatening shots—and the cabled operation pods retracted back upon the arms of an abnormally shaped mobile suit near Banagher. Behind the purple machine that resembled a rose was a machine with bright red armor, appearing behind the “Nahel Argama”, causing Banagher to stare intently at it.

“Full Frontal…”

Audrey, who seemed to have regained consciousness, said blankly. The “Sinanju” passed by the purple machine and matched its speed with the “Nahel Argama” as it stood in front, not raising the beam rifle in its hand as it looked down at the “Unicorn Gundam”. Two “Geara Zulus” raised the beam launchers in its place, and their monoeyes were giving off intimidating lights, just like the purple machine. Banagher saw that these were veterans that were used to fighting, different from the “Hizacks” of the Republic, and imagined the masked face he saw on “Palau” with the red machine.

[[Image:KSGU8 200.jpg|thumb]]

(Surrender. This is the best option now.)

The voice rang beside his ears, corroding his mind as it continued. The hands holding the control sticks lost strength, and Banagher’s unfocused expression was fluttering in space. ''The best path, the path leading to the future, what Father left to me.'' These completely unrelated words spun in his mind, festered, collapsed, and lost all meanings; he did not have the ability to think of what was the best option any more, and was left in a moment of ridiculous rambling as his empty mind had no where to go to.

Perhaps it was for this reason that he could not react immediately when Audrey got up from her assistant seat and reached her hand for his legs. When he realized that the handgun was drawn out, it was already pointed at his abdomen, and he finally looked at her face.

''Audrey.'' He wanted to call her, but he could not, and the hard block pressing on his abdomen was the only thing he could feel. Audrey continued to exchange stares with Banagher, “It’s been tough on you, Captain Full Frontal.” She said quietly,

“The pilot of the “Unicorn” can’t make a decision coolly in this situation. I’ve taken over the cockpit.”

(Is this fine…Your Highness Mineva?)

“It can’t be helped since things have already developed till this point. Where do I go next?”

(Just land on the “Nahel Argama”. Can you disarm it?)

Frontal’s voice was rather calm. “Audrey…” Banagher eked out the voice from his throat, and saw that she was showing much restrain on her expression. ''Was it an act?'' He wanted to find out from it, but the emerald eyes did not answer. The gun was pressed at his abdomen with more force, and a stare pierced through his body and mind, ostensibly testing the hardness of something. Banagher’s heart was shaken deep down, and he realized this was an important situation. He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath before looking in front.

He unlocked the control stick and dropped the beam rifle from the right manipulator. The NT-D flashed at this moment, and the psycoframe light that could be seen from even within the cockpit vanished. The expanded frame shrank, the sliding armor returned back to its fixed position, the bladed antenna closed to form the lone horn again, and the dual-eye sensors under it lost all glow. Banagher checked that the red light of “La+” vanished and that the machine was back to its “Unicorn” state, and lit its thrusters to close its distance with the “Nahel Argama”.

The “Geara Zulu” grabbed the beam rifle floating in space, and Banagher followed it to the white ship that was in Neo Zeon’s grasps. Hostility, suspicions, conscience; Banagher felt the numerous stares and emotions around him, and he focused on letting the “Unicorn” move forward. Trusting others—as he personally experienced how difficult it was to do this, he put his thoughts on the life that was connected to this gun. As Audrey continued to point the gun at him, Frontal’s “SInanju” stood above him, staring down at them, and the machine that was the embodiment of the Red Comet continued to float in the darkness.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_8_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_8_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 2

2013-06-09T04:46:48Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 9 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.

There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. ''Is this a mobile suit hangar?'' The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.

(Ple Twelve)

The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.

(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)

The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. ''Is this a new kind of experiment?'' Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.

If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.

Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. ''Is the man Alberto Vist?'' Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.

The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.

“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”

Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”

The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,

“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”

“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.

“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”

“Pitiful…?”

“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”

The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.

She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.

“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”

The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.

It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”

“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”

The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.

“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”

Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.

“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”

The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. ''What exactly is with this woman?'' Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.

“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”

“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”

“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”

''This woman is dangerous.'' Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”

Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”

“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”

Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.

Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.

“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”

''Even though you’re just a created being.'' Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.

The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…

“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine ''all of you'' piloted.”

Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.

[[Image:KSGU6 107.png|thumb]]

''That’s right, that’s the machine I, ''we'' rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it?'' Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. ''Maybe there might be other survivors—''

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. ''Impossible.'' Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.

It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. ''No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here.'' She thought.

“Look closely.”

Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.

“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”

The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. ''Stop it!'' Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.

“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”

Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. ''That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts'' there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.

“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”

Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.

“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”

The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.

===Part 2===

The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.

To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.

“This way, please.”

Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.

Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.

[[Image:KSGU6 111.png|thumb]]

“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”

“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”

Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.

“This isn’t popular in space.”

Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”

“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”

The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, as he then showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”

“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”

“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”

With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.

There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.

Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.

But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.

===Part 3===

At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.

However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.

In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.

A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.

But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.

However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—

“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”

It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.

“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”

Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”

“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”

“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”

Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”

“Talent?”

“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”

Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.

“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”

Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. ''Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now,'' Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.

It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.

“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”

Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.

“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”

The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”

“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”

“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”

''This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here.'' Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.

“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”

“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”

“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”

These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.

“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”

“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”

Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.

Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.

“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?

The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.

''I see, so this is what he’s planning.'' Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”

“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”

“I did hear of rumors…”

“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”

“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”

“The “Laplace Box”.”

Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.

“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”

Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.

The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.

Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. ''Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well?'' Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.

There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.

“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”

The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.

“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. ''Does he want his own son to check on me?'' Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.

“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”

“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”

''Even the mobile suit is assigned?'' Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.

Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.

===Part 4===

And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.

''Please do not leave this room during this time.'' It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.

''I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place.'' This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?

''It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation.'' The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, ''but even so'', as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.

She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. ''Why is it that you’re only showing up now?'' She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.

“Sorry, can I come in?”

Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.

“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”

The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.

“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”

He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.

“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”

Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.

“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”

“Sorry…?”

“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”

Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.

That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—

“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”

“The key…the “Unicorn”?”

Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.

“So…can you become a member of our family?”

In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.

“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”

To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.

“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”

“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”

Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. ''Why must I stay here? Why did I come here?'' This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.

Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. ''I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—''

“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”

Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.

“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”

Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.

''It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this.'' Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.

===Part 5===

Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow of a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.

If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the nearby city. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiations, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back to the car.

She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.

Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.

The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.

She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the yells of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.

The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.

In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—

“You’re pretty used to it.”

Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.

“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’

“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”

“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed an earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned about is, is this good for you?”

“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”

“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”

“Why?”

“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”

These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.

“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”

“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”

“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”

“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”

This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”

There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.

The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. ''They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth.'' Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.

As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,

“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”

===Part 6===

The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.

On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and headed off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.

Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that they had underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.

As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.

Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. ''The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together— ''

“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”

As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.

“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”

“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”

Zinnerman said. ''In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely?'' Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. ''Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?''

The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.

“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”

“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”

“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”

The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—

“That’s the parliament hall…”

“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”

Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”

Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.

===Part 7===

On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.

In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. ''Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security?'' Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.

The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. ''Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched.'' Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,

“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”

After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. ''Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine.'' Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.

He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.

If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.

“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”

“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”

It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.

“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”

Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.

''It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…''

But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. ''That’s because I want to know the answer,'' Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.

That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.

Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.

“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”

“Curse?”

[[Image:KSGU6 145.png|thumb]]

“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”

On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things he learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.

“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”

The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.

“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”

“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”

''I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.''—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.

“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”

Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.

“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”

“What does that mean.”

“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”

“Just some down and out activists…”

''But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated.'' Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.

“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”

These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.

“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”

“Even if…people shed blood for it?”

Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.

''In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light of many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…''

''Gyah!'' There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.

“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.

“You like children, don’t you?”

As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,

“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”

“10…!”

“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”

Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. ''So she too has such a wonderful thought.'' Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.

“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”

Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.

===Part 8===

Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.

In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.

“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”

The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.

“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”

Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.

“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”

“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.

“Yes…”

“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”

He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.

“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”

Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.

“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”

“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”

“Good. We can begin our operation then.”

“What operation?”

“An attack on Dakar.”

Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,

“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”

“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”

“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”

These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”

“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”

“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”

“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”

“That’s probably true.”

“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”

“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.

“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”

There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.

“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”

The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.

“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”

He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. ''If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—''.

“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”

Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,

“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”

“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”

There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.

“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’

“What do you mean?”

“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.

From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, ''Is that really the case?'' and tried to ask himself.

During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.

Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.

The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. ''Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right. ''

“Is that so?”

Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.

“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”

''Don’t say it.'' Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.

“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”

“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”

Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, ''this isn’t what dad planted into my mind.'' “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.

“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”

“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”

“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”

Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.

“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”

“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”

Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.

[[Image:KSGU6 158.png|thumb]]

“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”

“That’s enough, Banagher.”

Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. ''I spoke too much,'' Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.

“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”

“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”

Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—

“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”

After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with him.”

Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. ''Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”

“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use this chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”

“The Newtype Research…?”

“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”

Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.

“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”

Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.

“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”

Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.

“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”

Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.

===Part 9===

One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.

The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.

He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. ''I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right?'' Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.

“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”

Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.

“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”

“No. What you felt was correct.”

Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.

“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”

''Heart.'' Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,

“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driven by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”

Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, and played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. ''The captain’s still the same as usual.'' Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.

“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”

After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.

“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”

“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”

Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.

“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”

Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.

“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”

The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.

“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”

“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”

''Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before.'' Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.

“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”

Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely what Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what that something was he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.

“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”

Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.

“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”

“What’s special…”

“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment for celebrating a little anyway.”

A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.

''Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon.'' Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, ''What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—''

===Part 10===

It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.

“Is that it…?”

He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.

The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.

The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.

Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.

“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”

Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.

The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.

“What…!?”

The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.

It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.

“What are these guys thinking…!”

Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.

“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”

There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.

[[Image:KSGU6 172.png|thumb]]

Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.

It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.

He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.

(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)

The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.

The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.

(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)

The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. ''What is this guy saying?'' Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)

(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)

(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)

(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. ''So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars?'' At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.

The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.

The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.

===Part 11===

The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.

This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.

The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.

If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…

“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”

Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.

Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.

“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”

Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.

“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”

“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”

Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”

As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.

“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”

It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.

“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”

Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.

“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”

“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.

“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”

“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.

“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”

“He passed.”

Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.

“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Yeah…”

“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”

Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.

“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”

Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”

“What is it?”

“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”

The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.

“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”

“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”

Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.

“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”

There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.

“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”

Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back ''You don’t say?'' He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.

''I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine—'' he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.

===Part 12===

Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”

“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”

Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.

“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”

''He saw through me.'' Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,

“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”

Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. ''So he’s still wary of me.'' He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”

“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”

“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”

“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”

''I can’t get into your clique anymore—'' these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.

“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”

The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.

“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”

They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.

“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”

“I don’t understand.”

He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”

“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”

“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”

“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”

Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. ''It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too.'' He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.

“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”

He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. ''I feel you’re a man of your word.'' He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.

===Part 13===

(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)

The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. ''Am I seeing a complete artificial image here?'' she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.

“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”

(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)

The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .

“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”

(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)

“Sieg Zeon.”

Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.

That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.

“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”

The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.

“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”

“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”

Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.

“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”

“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”

“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”

“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”

“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”

Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.

“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”

Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.

===Part 14===

The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.

There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.

The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.

''Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.'' Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.

There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.

The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.

“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”

Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.

''There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved.'' Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.

===Part 15===

Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. ''Where am I going? Why am I still walking?'' Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.

''Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. ''Where is this place? Who am I?'' She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.

It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.

“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”

The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. ''Is that Martha?'' Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.

Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.

''Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on.'' Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, ''But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—''

''“There’s no need for you to endure.”''
The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.

''“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”''

''I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me.'' Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. ''Please help me, tell them to stop.'' Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. ''No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.'' The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. ''I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…''

“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”

''“Light”''—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. ''Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer.'' Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.

''Crack.'' A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.

What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. ''Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?'' On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.

''“Master is broken.”''

The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. ''Impossible, this is definitely a lie!!'' Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.

===Part 16===

The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—

The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”

“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”

“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”

Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,

“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”

“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”

“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”

She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.

Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.

“Where are you going?”

Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.

“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”

These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,

“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”

She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…

''What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh?'' Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 2

2013-06-09T04:38:19Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 8 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.

There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. ''Is this a mobile suit hangar?'' The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.

(Ple Twelve)

The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.

(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)

The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. ''Is this a new kind of experiment?'' Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.

If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.

Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. ''Is the man Alberto Vist?'' Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.

The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.

“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”

Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”

The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,

“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”

“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.

“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”

“Pitiful…?”

“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”

The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.

She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.

“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”

The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.

It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”

“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”

The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.

“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”

Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.

“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”

The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. ''What exactly is with this woman?'' Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.

“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”

“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”

“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”

''This woman is dangerous.'' Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”

Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”

“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”

Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.

Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.

“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”

''Even though you’re just a created being.'' Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.

The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…

“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine ''all of you'' piloted.”

Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.

[[Image:KSGU6 107.png|thumb]]

''That’s right, that’s the machine I, ''we'' rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it?'' Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. ''Maybe there might be other survivors—''

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. ''Impossible.'' Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.

It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. ''No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here.'' She thought.

“Look closely.”

Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.

“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”

The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. ''Stop it!'' Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.

“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”

Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. ''That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts'' there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.

“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”

Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.

“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”

The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.

===Part 2===

The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.

To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.

“This way, please.”

Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.

Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.

[[Image:KSGU6 111.png|thumb]]

“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”

“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”

Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.

“This isn’t popular in space.”

Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”

“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”

The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, as he then showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”

“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”

“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”

With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.

There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.

Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.

But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.

===Part 3===

At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.

However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.

In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.

A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.

But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.

However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—

“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”

It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.

“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”

Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”

“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”

“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”

Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”

“Talent?”

“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”

Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.

“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”

Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. ''Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now,'' Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.

It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.

“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”

Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.

“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”

The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”

“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”

“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”

''This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here.'' Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.

“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”

“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”

“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”

These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.

“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”

“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”

Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.

Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.

“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?

The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.

''I see, so this is what he’s planning.'' Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”

“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”

“I did hear of rumors…”

“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”

“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”

“The “Laplace Box”.”

Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.

“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”

Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.

The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.

Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. ''Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well?'' Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.

There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.

“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”

The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.

“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. ''Does he want his own son to check on me?'' Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.

“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”

“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”

''Even the mobile suit is assigned?'' Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.

Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.

===Part 4===

And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.

''Please do not leave this room during this time.'' It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.

''I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place.'' This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?

''It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation.'' The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, ''but even so'', as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.

She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. ''Why is it that you’re only showing up now?'' She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.

“Sorry, can I come in?”

Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.

“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”

The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.

“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”

He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.

“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”

Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.

“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”

“Sorry…?”

“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”

Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.

That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—

“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”

“The key…the “Unicorn”?”

Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.

“So…can you become a member of our family?”

In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.

“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”

To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.

“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”

“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”

Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. ''Why must I stay here? Why did I come here?'' This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.

Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. ''I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—''

“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”

Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.

“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”

Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.

''It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this.'' Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.

===Part 5===

Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow of a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.

If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the nearby city. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiations, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back to the car.

She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.

Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.

The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.

She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the yells of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.

The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.

In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—

“You’re pretty used to it.”

Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.

“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’

“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”

“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed an earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned about is, is this good for you?”

“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”

“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”

“Why?”

“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”

These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.

“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”

“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”

“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”

“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”

This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”

There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.

The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. ''They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth.'' Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.

As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,

“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”

===Part 6===

The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.

On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and headed off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.

Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that they had underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.

As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.

Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. ''The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together— ''

“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”

As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.

“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”

“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”

Zinnerman said. ''In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely?'' Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. ''Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?''

The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.

“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”

“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”

“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”

The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—

“That’s the parliament hall…”

“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”

Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”

Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.

===Part 7===

On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.

In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. ''Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security?'' Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.

The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. ''Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched.'' Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,

“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”

After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. ''Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine.'' Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.

He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.

If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.

“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”

“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”

It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.

“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”

Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.

''It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…''

But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. ''That’s because I want to know the answer,'' Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.

That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.

Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.

“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”

“Curse?”

[[Image:KSGU6 145.png|thumb]]

“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”

On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things he learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.

“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”

The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.

“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”

“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”

''I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.''—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.

“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”

Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.

“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”

“What does that mean.”

“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”

“Just some down and out activists…”

''But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated.'' Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.

“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”

These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.

“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”

“Even if…people shed blood for it?”

Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.

''In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light of many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…''

''Gyah!'' There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.

“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.

“You like children, don’t you?”

As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,

“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”

“10…!”

“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”

Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. ''So she too has such a wonderful thought.'' Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.

“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”

Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.

===Part 8===

Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.

In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.

“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”

The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.

“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”

Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.

“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”

“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.

“Yes…”

“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”

He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.

“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”

Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.

“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”

“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”

“Good. We can begin our operation then.”

“What operation?”

“An attack on Dakar.”

Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,

“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”

“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”

“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”

These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”

“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”

“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”

“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”

“That’s probably true.”

“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”

“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.

“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”

There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.

“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”

The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.

“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”

He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. ''If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—''.

“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”

Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,

“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”

“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”

There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.

“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’

“What do you mean?”

“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.

From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, ''Is that really the case?'' and tried to ask himself.

During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.

Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.

The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. ''Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right. ''

“Is that so?”

Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.

“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”

''Don’t say it.'' Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.

“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”

“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”

Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, ''this isn’t what dad planted into my mind.'' “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.

“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”

“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”

“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”

Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.

“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”

“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”

Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.

[[Image:KSGU6 158.png|thumb]]

“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”

“That’s enough, Banagher.”

Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. ''I spoke too much,'' Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.

“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”

“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”

Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—

“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”

After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with him.”

Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. ''Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”

“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use this chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”

“The Newtype Research…?”

“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”

Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.

“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”

Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.

“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”

Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.

“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”

Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.

===Part 9===

One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.

The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.

He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. ''I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right?'' Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.

“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”

Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.

“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”

“No. What you felt was correct.”

Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.

“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”

''Heart.'' Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,

“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driver by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”

Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. ''The captain’s still the same as usual.'' Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.

“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”

After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.

“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”

“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”

Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.

“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”

Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.

“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”

The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.

“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”

“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”

''Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before.'' Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.

“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”

Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely want Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what was something he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.

“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”

Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.

“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”

“What’s special…”

“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment from celebrating a little anyway.”

A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.

''Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon.'' Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, ''What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—''

===Part 10===

It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.

“Is that it…?”

He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.

The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.

The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.

Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.

“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”

Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.

The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.

“What…!?”

The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.

It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.

“What are these guys thinking…!”

Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.

“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”

There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.

[[Image:KSGU6 172.png|thumb]]

Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.

It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.

He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.

(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)

The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.

The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.

(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)

The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. ''What is this guy saying?'' Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)

(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)

(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)

(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. ''So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars?'' At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.

The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.

The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.

===Part 11===

The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.

This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.

The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.

If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…

“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”

Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.

Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.

“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”

Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.

“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”

“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”

Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”

As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.

“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”

It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.

“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”

Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.

“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”

“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.

“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”

“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.

“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”

“He passed.”

Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.

“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Yeah…”

“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”

Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.

“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”

Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”

“What is it?”

“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”

The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.

“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”

“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”

Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.

“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”

There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.

“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”

Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back ''You don’t say?'' He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.

''I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine—'' he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.

===Part 12===

Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”

“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”

Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.

“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”

''He saw through me.'' Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,

“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”

Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. ''So he’s still wary of me.'' He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”

“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”

“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”

“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”

''I can’t get into your clique anymore—'' these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.

“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”

The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.

“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”

They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.

“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”

“I don’t understand.”

He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”

“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”

“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”

“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”

Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. ''It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too.'' He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.

“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”

He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. ''I feel you’re a man of your word.'' He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.

===Part 13===

(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)

The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. ''Am I seeing a complete artificial image here?'' she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.

“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”

(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)

The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .

“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”

(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)

“Sieg Zeon.”

Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.

That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.

“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”

The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.

“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”

“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”

Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.

“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”

“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”

“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”

“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”

“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”

Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.

“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”

Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.

===Part 14===

The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.

There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.

The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.

''Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.'' Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.

There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.

The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.

“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”

Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.

''There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved.'' Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.

===Part 15===

Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. ''Where am I going? Why am I still walking?'' Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.

''Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. ''Where is this place? Who am I?'' She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.

It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.

“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”

The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. ''Is that Martha?'' Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.

Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.

''Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on.'' Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, ''But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—''

''“There’s no need for you to endure.”''
The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.

''“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”''

''I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me.'' Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. ''Please help me, tell them to stop.'' Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. ''No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.'' The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. ''I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…''

“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”

''“Light”''—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. ''Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer.'' Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.

''Crack.'' A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.

What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. ''Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?'' On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.

''“Master is broken.”''

The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. ''Impossible, this is definitely a lie!!'' Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.

===Part 16===

The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—

The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”

“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”

“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”

Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,

“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”

“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”

“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”

She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.

Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.

“Where are you going?”

Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.

“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”

These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,

“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”

She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…

''What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh?'' Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 2

2013-06-09T04:25:17Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 7 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.

There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. ''Is this a mobile suit hangar?'' The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.

(Ple Twelve)

The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.

(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)

The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. ''Is this a new kind of experiment?'' Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.

If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.

Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. ''Is the man Alberto Vist?'' Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.

The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.

“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”

Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”

The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,

“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”

“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.

“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”

“Pitiful…?”

“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”

The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.

She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.

“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”

The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.

It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”

“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”

The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.

“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”

Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.

“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”

The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. ''What exactly is with this woman?'' Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.

“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”

“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”

“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”

''This woman is dangerous.'' Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”

Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”

“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”

Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.

Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.

“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”

''Even though you’re just a created being.'' Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.

The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…

“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine ''all of you'' piloted.”

Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.

[[Image:KSGU6 107.png|thumb]]

''That’s right, that’s the machine I, ''we'' rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it?'' Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. ''Maybe there might be other survivors—''

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. ''Impossible.'' Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.

It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. ''No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here.'' She thought.

“Look closely.”

Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.

“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”

The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. ''Stop it!'' Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.

“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”

Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. ''That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts'' there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.

“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”

Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.

“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”

The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.

===Part 2===

The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.

To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.

“This way, please.”

Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.

Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.

[[Image:KSGU6 111.png|thumb]]

“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”

“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”

Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.

“This isn’t popular in space.”

Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”

“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”

The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, as he then showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”

“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”

“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”

With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.

There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.

Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.

But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.

===Part 3===

At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.

However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.

In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.

A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.

But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.

However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—

“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”

It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.

“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”

Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”

“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”

“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”

Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”

“Talent?”

“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”

Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.

“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”

Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. ''Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now,'' Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.

It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.

“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”

Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.

“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”

The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”

“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”

“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”

''This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here.'' Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.

“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”

“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”

“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”

These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.

“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”

“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”

Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.

Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.

“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?

The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.

''I see, so this is what he’s planning.'' Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”

“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”

“I did hear of rumors…”

“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”

“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”

“The “Laplace Box”.”

Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.

“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”

Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.

The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.

Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. ''Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well?'' Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.

There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.

“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”

The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.

“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. ''Does he want his own son to check on me?'' Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.

“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”

“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”

''Even the mobile suit is assigned?'' Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.

Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.

===Part 4===

And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.

''Please do not leave this room during this time.'' It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.

''I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place.'' This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?

''It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation.'' The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, ''but even so'', as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.

She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. ''Why is it that you’re only showing up now?'' She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.

“Sorry, can I come in?”

Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.

“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”

The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.

“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”

He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.

“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”

Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.

“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”

“Sorry…?”

“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”

Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.

That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—

“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”

“The key…the “Unicorn”?”

Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.

“So…can you become a member of our family?”

In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.

“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”

To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.

“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”

“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”

Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. ''Why must I stay here? Why did I come here?'' This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.

Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. ''I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—''

“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”

Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.

“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”

Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.

''It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this.'' Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.

===Part 5===

Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow of a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.

If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the nearby city. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiations, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back to the car.

She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.

Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.

The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.

She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the yells of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.

The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.

In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—

“You’re pretty used to it.”

Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.

“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’

“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”

“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed an earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned about is, is this good for you?”

“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”

“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”

“Why?”

“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”

These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.

“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”

“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”

“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”

“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”

This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”

There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.

The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. ''They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth.'' Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.

As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,

“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”

===Part 6===

The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.

On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and headed off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.

Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that they had underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.

As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.

Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. ''The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together— ''

“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”

As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.

“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”

“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”

Zinnerman said. ''In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely?'' Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. ''Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?''

The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.

“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”

“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”

“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”

The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—

“That’s the parliament hall…”

“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”

Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”

Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.

===Part 7===

On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.

In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. ''Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security?'' Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.

The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. ''Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched.'' Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,

“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”

After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. ''Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine.'' Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.

He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.

If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.

“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”

“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”

It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.

“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”

Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.

''It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…''

But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. ''That’s because I want to know the answer,'' Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.

That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.

Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.

“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”

“Curse?”

[[Image:KSGU6 145.png|thumb]]

“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”

On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things he learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.

“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”

The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.

“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”

“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”

''I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.''—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.

“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”

Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.

“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”

“What does that mean.”

“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”

“Just some down and out activists…”

''But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated.'' Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.

“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”

These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.

“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”

“Even if…people shed blood for it?”

Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.

''In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light of many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…''

''Gyah!'' There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.

“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.

“You like children, don’t you?”

As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,

“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”

“10…!”

“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”

Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. ''So she too has such a wonderful thought.'' Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.

“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”

Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.

===Part 8===

Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.

In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.

“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”

The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.

“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”

Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.

“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”

“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.

“Yes…”

“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”

He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.

“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”

Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.

“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”

“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”

“Good. We can begin our operation then.”

“What operation?”

“An attack on Dakar.”

Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,

“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”

“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”

“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”

These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”

“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”

“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”

“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”

“That’s probably true.”

“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”

“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.

“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”

There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.

“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”

The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.

“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”

He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. ''If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—''.

“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”

Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,

“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”

“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”

There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.

“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’

“What do you mean?”

“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.

From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, ''Is that really the case?'' and tried to ask himself.

During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.

Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.

The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. ''Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right. ''

“Is that so?”

Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.

“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”

''Don’t say it.'' Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.

“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”

“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”

Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, ''this isn’t what dad planted into my mind.'' “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.

“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”

“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”

“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”

Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.

“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”

“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”

Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.

[[Image:KSGU6 158.png|thumb]]

“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”

“That’s enough, Banagher.”

Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. ''I spoke too much,'' Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.

“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”

“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”

Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—

“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”

After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with with.”

Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. ''Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”

“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use to chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”

“The Newtype Research…?”

“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”

Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.

“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”

Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.

“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”

Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.

“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”

Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.

===Part 9===

One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.

The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.

He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. ''I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right?'' Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.

“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”

Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.

“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”

“No. What you felt was correct.”

Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.

“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”

''Heart.'' Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,

“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driver by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”

Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. ''The captain’s still the same as usual.'' Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.

“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”

After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.

“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”

“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”

Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.

“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”

Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.

“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”

The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.

“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”

“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”

''Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before.'' Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.

“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”

Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely want Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what was something he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.

“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”

Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.

“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”

“What’s special…”

“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment from celebrating a little anyway.”

A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.

''Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon.'' Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, ''What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—''

===Part 10===

It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.

“Is that it…?”

He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.

The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.

The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.

Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.

“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”

Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.

The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.

“What…!?”

The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.

It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.

“What are these guys thinking…!”

Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.

“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”

There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.

[[Image:KSGU6 172.png|thumb]]

Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.

It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.

He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.

(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)

The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.

The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.

(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)

The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. ''What is this guy saying?'' Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)

(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)

(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)

(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. ''So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars?'' At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.

The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.

The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.

===Part 11===

The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.

This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.

The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.

If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…

“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”

Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.

Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.

“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”

Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.

“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”

“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”

Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”

As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.

“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”

It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.

“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”

Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.

“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”

“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.

“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”

“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.

“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”

“He passed.”

Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.

“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Yeah…”

“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”

Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.

“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”

Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”

“What is it?”

“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”

The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.

“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”

“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”

Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.

“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”

There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.

“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”

Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back ''You don’t say?'' He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.

''I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine—'' he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.

===Part 12===

Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”

“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”

Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.

“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”

''He saw through me.'' Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,

“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”

Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. ''So he’s still wary of me.'' He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”

“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”

“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”

“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”

''I can’t get into your clique anymore—'' these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.

“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”

The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.

“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”

They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.

“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”

“I don’t understand.”

He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”

“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”

“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”

“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”

Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. ''It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too.'' He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.

“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”

He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. ''I feel you’re a man of your word.'' He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.

===Part 13===

(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)

The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. ''Am I seeing a complete artificial image here?'' she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.

“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”

(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)

The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .

“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”

(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)

“Sieg Zeon.”

Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.

That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.

“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”

The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.

“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”

“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”

Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.

“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”

“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”

“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”

“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”

“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”

Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.

“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”

Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.

===Part 14===

The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.

There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.

The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.

''Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.'' Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.

There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.

The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.

“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”

Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.

''There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved.'' Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.

===Part 15===

Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. ''Where am I going? Why am I still walking?'' Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.

''Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. ''Where is this place? Who am I?'' She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.

It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.

“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”

The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. ''Is that Martha?'' Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.

Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.

''Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on.'' Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, ''But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—''

''“There’s no need for you to endure.”''
The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.

''“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”''

''I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me.'' Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. ''Please help me, tell them to stop.'' Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. ''No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.'' The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. ''I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…''

“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”

''“Light”''—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. ''Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer.'' Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.

''Crack.'' A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.

What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. ''Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?'' On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.

''“Master is broken.”''

The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. ''Impossible, this is definitely a lie!!'' Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.

===Part 16===

The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—

The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”

“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”

“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”

Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,

“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”

“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”

“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”

She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.

Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.

“Where are you going?”

Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.

“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”

These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,

“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”

She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…

''What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh?'' Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 2

2013-06-09T04:13:27Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 6 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.

There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. ''Is this a mobile suit hangar?'' The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.

(Ple Twelve)

The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.

(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)

The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. ''Is this a new kind of experiment?'' Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.

If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.

Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. ''Is the man Alberto Vist?'' Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.

The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.

“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”

Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”

The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,

“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”

“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.

“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”

“Pitiful…?”

“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”

The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.

She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.

“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”

The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.

It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”

“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”

The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.

“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”

Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.

“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”

The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. ''What exactly is with this woman?'' Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.

“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”

“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”

“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”

''This woman is dangerous.'' Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”

Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”

“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”

Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.

Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.

“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”

''Even though you’re just a created being.'' Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.

The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…

“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine ''all of you'' piloted.”

Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.

[[Image:KSGU6 107.png|thumb]]

''That’s right, that’s the machine I, ''we'' rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it?'' Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. ''Maybe there might be other survivors—''

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. ''Impossible.'' Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.

It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. ''No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here.'' She thought.

“Look closely.”

Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.

“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”

The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. ''Stop it!'' Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.

“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”

Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. ''That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts'' there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.

“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”

Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.

“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”

The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.

===Part 2===

The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.

To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.

“This way, please.”

Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.

Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.

[[Image:KSGU6 111.png|thumb]]

“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”

“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”

Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.

“This isn’t popular in space.”

Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”

“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”

The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, as he then showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”

“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”

“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”

With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.

There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.

Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.

But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.

===Part 3===

At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.

However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.

In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.

A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.

But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.

However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—

“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”

It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.

“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”

Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”

“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”

“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”

Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”

“Talent?”

“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”

Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.

“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”

Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. ''Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now,'' Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.

It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.

“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”

Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.

“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”

The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”

“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”

“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”

''This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here.'' Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.

“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”

“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”

“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”

These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.

“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”

“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”

Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.

Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.

“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?

The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.

''I see, so this is what he’s planning.'' Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”

“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”

“I did hear of rumors…”

“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”

“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”

“The “Laplace Box”.”

Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.

“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”

Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.

The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.

Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. ''Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well?'' Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.

There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.

“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”

The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.

“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. ''Does he want his own son to check on me?'' Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.

“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”

“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”

''Even the mobile suit is assigned?'' Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.

Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.

===Part 4===

And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.

''Please do not leave this room during this time.'' It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.

''I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place.'' This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?

''It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation.'' The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, ''but even so'', as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.

She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. ''Why is it that you’re only showing up now?'' She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.

“Sorry, can I come in?”

Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.

“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”

The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.

“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”

He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.

“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”

Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.

“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”

“Sorry…?”

“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”

Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.

That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—

“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”

“The key…the “Unicorn”?”

Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.

“So…can you become a member of our family?”

In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.

“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”

To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.

“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”

“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”

Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. ''Why must I stay here? Why did I come here?'' This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.

Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. ''I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—''

“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”

Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.

“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”

Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.

''It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this.'' Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.

===Part 5===

Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow of a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.

If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the nearby city. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiations, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back to the car.

She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.

Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.

The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.

She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the yells of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.

The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.

In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—

“You’re pretty used to it.”

Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.

“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’

“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”

“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed an earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned about is, is this good for you?”

“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”

“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”

“Why?”

“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”

These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.

“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”

“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”

“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”

“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”

This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”

There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.

The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. ''They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth.'' Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.

As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,

“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”

===Part 6===

The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.

On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and headed off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.

Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that they had underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.

As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.

Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. ''The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together— ''

“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”

As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.

“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”

“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”

Zinnerman said. ''In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely?'' Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. ''Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?''

The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.

“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”

“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”

“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”

The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—

“That’s the parliament hall…”

“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”

Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”

Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.

===Part 7===

On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.

In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. ''Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security?'' Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.

The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. ''Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched.'' Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,

“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”

After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. ''Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine.'' Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.

He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.

If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.

“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”

“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”

It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.

“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”

Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.

''It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…''

But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. ''That’s because I want to know the answer,'' Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.

That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.

Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.

“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”

“Curse?”

[[Image:KSGU6 145.png|thumb]]

“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”

On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things her learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.

“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”

The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.

“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”

“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”

''I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.''—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.

“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”

Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.

“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”

“What does that mean.”

“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”

“Just some down and out activists…”

''But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated.'' Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.

“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”

These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.

“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”

“Even if…people shed blood for it?”

Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.

''In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light off many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…''

''Gyah!'' There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.

“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.

“You like children, don’t you?”

As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,

“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”

“10…!”

“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”

Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. ''So she too has such a wonderful thought.'' Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.

“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”

Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.

===Part 8===

Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.

In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.

“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”

The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.

“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”

Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.

“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”

“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.

“Yes…”

“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”

He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.

“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”

Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.

“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”

“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”

“Good. We can begin our operation then.”

“What operation?”

“An attack on Dakar.”

Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,

“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”

“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”

“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”

These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”

“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”

“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”

“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”

“That’s probably true.”

“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”

“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.

“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”

There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.

“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”

The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.

“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”

He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. ''If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—''.

“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”

Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,

“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”

“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”

There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.

“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’

“What do you mean?”

“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.

From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, ''Is that really the case?'' and tried to ask himself.

During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.

Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.

The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. ''Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right. ''

“Is that so?”

Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.

“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”

''Don’t say it.'' Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.

“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”

“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”

Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, ''this isn’t what dad planted into my mind.'' “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.

“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”

“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”

“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”

Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.

“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”

“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”

Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.

[[Image:KSGU6 158.png|thumb]]

“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”

“That’s enough, Banagher.”

Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. ''I spoke too much,'' Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.

“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”

“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”

Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—

“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”

After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with with.”

Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. ''Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”

“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use to chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”

“The Newtype Research…?”

“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”

Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.

“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”

Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.

“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”

Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.

“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”

Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.

===Part 9===

One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.

The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.

He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. ''I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right?'' Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.

“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”

Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.

“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”

“No. What you felt was correct.”

Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.

“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”

''Heart.'' Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,

“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driver by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”

Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. ''The captain’s still the same as usual.'' Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.

“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”

After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.

“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”

“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”

Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.

“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”

Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.

“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”

The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.

“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”

“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”

''Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before.'' Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.

“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”

Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely want Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what was something he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.

“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”

Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.

“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”

“What’s special…”

“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment from celebrating a little anyway.”

A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.

''Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon.'' Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, ''What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—''

===Part 10===

It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.

“Is that it…?”

He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.

The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.

The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.

Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.

“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”

Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.

The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.

“What…!?”

The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.

It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.

“What are these guys thinking…!”

Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.

“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”

There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.

[[Image:KSGU6 172.png|thumb]]

Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.

It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.

He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.

(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)

The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.

The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.

(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)

The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. ''What is this guy saying?'' Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)

(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)

(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)

(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. ''So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars?'' At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.

The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.

The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.

===Part 11===

The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.

This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.

The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.

If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…

“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”

Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.

Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.

“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”

Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.

“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”

“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”

Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”

As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.

“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”

It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.

“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”

Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.

“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”

“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.

“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”

“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.

“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”

“He passed.”

Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.

“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Yeah…”

“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”

Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.

“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”

Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”

“What is it?”

“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”

The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.

“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”

“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”

Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.

“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”

There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.

“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”

Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back ''You don’t say?'' He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.

''I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine—'' he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.

===Part 12===

Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”

“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”

Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.

“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”

''He saw through me.'' Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,

“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”

Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. ''So he’s still wary of me.'' He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”

“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”

“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”

“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”

''I can’t get into your clique anymore—'' these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.

“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”

The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.

“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”

They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.

“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”

“I don’t understand.”

He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”

“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”

“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”

“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”

Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. ''It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too.'' He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.

“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”

He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. ''I feel you’re a man of your word.'' He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.

===Part 13===

(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)

The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. ''Am I seeing a complete artificial image here?'' she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.

“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”

(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)

The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .

“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”

(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)

“Sieg Zeon.”

Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.

That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.

“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”

The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.

“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”

“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”

Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.

“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”

“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”

“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”

“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”

“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”

Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.

“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”

Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.

===Part 14===

The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.

There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.

The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.

''Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.'' Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.

There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.

The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.

“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”

Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.

''There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved.'' Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.

===Part 15===

Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. ''Where am I going? Why am I still walking?'' Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.

''Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. ''Where is this place? Who am I?'' She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.

It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.

“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”

The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. ''Is that Martha?'' Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.

Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.

''Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on.'' Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, ''But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—''

''“There’s no need for you to endure.”''
The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.

''“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”''

''I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me.'' Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. ''Please help me, tell them to stop.'' Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. ''No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.'' The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. ''I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…''

“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”

''“Light”''—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. ''Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer.'' Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.

''Crack.'' A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.

What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. ''Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?'' On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.

''“Master is broken.”''

The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. ''Impossible, this is definitely a lie!!'' Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.

===Part 16===

The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—

The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”

“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”

“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”

Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,

“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”

“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”

“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”

She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.

Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.

“Where are you going?”

Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.

“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”

These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,

“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”

She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…

''What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh?'' Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 2

2013-06-09T04:06:25Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 5 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.

There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. ''Is this a mobile suit hangar?'' The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.

(Ple Twelve)

The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.

(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)

The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. ''Is this a new kind of experiment?'' Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.

If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.

Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. ''Is the man Alberto Vist?'' Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.

The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.

“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”

Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”

The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,

“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”

“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.

“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”

“Pitiful…?”

“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”

The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.

She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.

“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”

The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.

It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”

“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”

The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.

“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”

Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.

“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”

The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. ''What exactly is with this woman?'' Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.

“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”

“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”

“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”

''This woman is dangerous.'' Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”

Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”

“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”

Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.

Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.

“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”

''Even though you’re just a created being.'' Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.

The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…

“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine ''all of you'' piloted.”

Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.

[[Image:KSGU6 107.png|thumb]]

''That’s right, that’s the machine I, ''we'' rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it?'' Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. ''Maybe there might be other survivors—''

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. ''Impossible.'' Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.

It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. ''No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here.'' She thought.

“Look closely.”

Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.

“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”

The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. ''Stop it!'' Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.

“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”

Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. ''That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts'' there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.

“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”

Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.

“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”

The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.

===Part 2===

The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.

To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.

“This way, please.”

Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.

Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.

[[Image:KSGU6 111.png|thumb]]

“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”

“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”

Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.

“This isn’t popular in space.”

Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”

“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”

The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, as he then showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”

“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”

“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”

With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.

There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.

Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.

But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.

===Part 3===

At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.

However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.

In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.

A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.

But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.

However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—

“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”

It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.

“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”

Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”

“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”

“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”

Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”

“Talent?”

“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”

Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.

“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”

Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. ''Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now,'' Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.

It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.

“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”

Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.

“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”

The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”

“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”

“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”

''This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here.'' Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.

“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”

“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”

“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”

These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.

“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”

“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”

Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.

Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.

“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?

The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.

''I see, so this is what he’s planning.'' Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”

“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”

“I did hear of rumors…”

“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”

“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”

“The “Laplace Box”.”

Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.

“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”

Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.

The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.

Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. ''Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well?'' Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.

There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.

“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”

The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.

“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. ''Does he want his own son to check on me?'' Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.

“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”

“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”

''Even the mobile suit is assigned?'' Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.

Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.

===Part 4===

And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.

''Please do not leave this room during this time.'' It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.

''I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place.'' This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?

''It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation.'' The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, ''but even so'', as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.

She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. ''Why is it that you’re only showing up now?'' She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.

“Sorry, can I come in?”

Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.

“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”

The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.

“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”

He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.

“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”

Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.

“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”

“Sorry…?”

“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”

Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.

That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—

“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”

“The key…the “Unicorn”?”

Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.

“So…can you become a member of our family?”

In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.

“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”

To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.

“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”

“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”

Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. ''Why must I stay here? Why did I come here?'' This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.

Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. ''I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—''

“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”

Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.

“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”

Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.

''It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this.'' Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.

===Part 5===

Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow of a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.

If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the nearby city. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiations, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back to the car.

She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.

Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.

The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.

She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the yells of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.

The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.

In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—

“You’re pretty used to it.”

Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.

“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’

“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”

“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed an earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned about is, is this good for you?”

“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”

“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”

“Why?”

“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”

These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.

“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”

“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”

“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”

“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”

This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”

There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.

The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. ''They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth.'' Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.

As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,

“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”

===Part 6===

The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.

On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and head off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.

Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that their underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.

As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.

Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. ''The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together— ''

“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”

As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.

“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”

“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”

Zinnerman said. ''In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely?'' Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. ''Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?''

The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.

“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”

“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”

“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”

The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—

“That’s the parliament hall…”

“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”

Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”

Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.

===Part 7===

On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.

In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. ''Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security?'' Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.

The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. ''Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched.'' Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,

“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”

After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. ''Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine.'' Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.

He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.

If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.

“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”

“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”

It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.

“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”

Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.

''It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…''

But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. ''That’s because I want to know the answer,'' Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.

That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.

Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.

“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”

“Curse?”

[[Image:KSGU6 145.png|thumb]]

“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”

On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things her learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.

“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”

The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.

“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”

“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”

''I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.''—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.

“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”

Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.

“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”

“What does that mean.”

“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”

“Just some down and out activists…”

''But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated.'' Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.

“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”

These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.

“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”

“Even if…people shed blood for it?”

Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.

''In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light off many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…''

''Gyah!'' There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.

“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.

“You like children, don’t you?”

As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,

“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”

“10…!”

“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”

Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. ''So she too has such a wonderful thought.'' Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.

“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”

Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.

===Part 8===

Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.

In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.

“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”

The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.

“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”

Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.

“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”

“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.

“Yes…”

“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”

He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.

“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”

Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.

“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”

“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”

“Good. We can begin our operation then.”

“What operation?”

“An attack on Dakar.”

Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,

“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”

“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”

“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”

These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”

“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”

“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”

“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”

“That’s probably true.”

“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”

“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.

“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”

There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.

“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”

The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.

“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”

He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. ''If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—''.

“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”

Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,

“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”

“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”

There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.

“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’

“What do you mean?”

“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.

From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, ''Is that really the case?'' and tried to ask himself.

During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.

Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.

The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. ''Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right. ''

“Is that so?”

Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.

“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”

''Don’t say it.'' Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.

“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”

“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”

Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, ''this isn’t what dad planted into my mind.'' “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.

“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”

“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”

“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”

Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.

“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”

“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”

Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.

[[Image:KSGU6 158.png|thumb]]

“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”

“That’s enough, Banagher.”

Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. ''I spoke too much,'' Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.

“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”

“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”

Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—

“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”

After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with with.”

Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. ''Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”

“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use to chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”

“The Newtype Research…?”

“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”

Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.

“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”

Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.

“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”

Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.

“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”

Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.

===Part 9===

One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.

The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.

He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. ''I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right?'' Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.

“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”

Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.

“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”

“No. What you felt was correct.”

Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.

“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”

''Heart.'' Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,

“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driver by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”

Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. ''The captain’s still the same as usual.'' Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.

“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”

After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.

“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”

“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”

Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.

“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”

Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.

“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”

The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.

“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”

“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”

''Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before.'' Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.

“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”

Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely want Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what was something he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.

“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”

Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.

“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”

“What’s special…”

“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment from celebrating a little anyway.”

A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.

''Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon.'' Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, ''What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—''

===Part 10===

It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.

“Is that it…?”

He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.

The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.

The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.

Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.

“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”

Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.

The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.

“What…!?”

The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.

It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.

“What are these guys thinking…!”

Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.

“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”

There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.

[[Image:KSGU6 172.png|thumb]]

Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.

It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.

He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.

(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)

The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.

The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.

(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)

The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. ''What is this guy saying?'' Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)

(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)

(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)

(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. ''So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars?'' At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.

The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.

The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.

===Part 11===

The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.

This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.

The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.

If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…

“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”

Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.

Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.

“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”

Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.

“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”

“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”

Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”

As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.

“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”

It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.

“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”

Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.

“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”

“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.

“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”

“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.

“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”

“He passed.”

Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.

“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Yeah…”

“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”

Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.

“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”

Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”

“What is it?”

“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”

The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.

“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”

“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”

Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.

“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”

There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.

“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”

Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back ''You don’t say?'' He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.

''I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine—'' he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.

===Part 12===

Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”

“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”

Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.

“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”

''He saw through me.'' Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,

“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”

Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. ''So he’s still wary of me.'' He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”

“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”

“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”

“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”

''I can’t get into your clique anymore—'' these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.

“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”

The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.

“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”

They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.

“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”

“I don’t understand.”

He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”

“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”

“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”

“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”

Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. ''It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too.'' He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.

“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”

He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. ''I feel you’re a man of your word.'' He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.

===Part 13===

(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)

The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. ''Am I seeing a complete artificial image here?'' she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.

“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”

(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)

The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .

“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”

(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)

“Sieg Zeon.”

Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.

That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.

“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”

The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.

“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”

“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”

Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.

“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”

“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”

“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”

“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”

“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”

Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.

“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”

Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.

===Part 14===

The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.

There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.

The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.

''Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.'' Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.

There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.

The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.

“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”

Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.

''There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved.'' Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.

===Part 15===

Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. ''Where am I going? Why am I still walking?'' Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.

''Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. ''Where is this place? Who am I?'' She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.

It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.

“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”

The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. ''Is that Martha?'' Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.

Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.

''Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on.'' Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, ''But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—''

''“There’s no need for you to endure.”''
The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.

''“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”''

''I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me.'' Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. ''Please help me, tell them to stop.'' Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. ''No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.'' The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. ''I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…''

“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”

''“Light”''—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. ''Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer.'' Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.

''Crack.'' A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.

What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. ''Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?'' On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.

''“Master is broken.”''

The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. ''Impossible, this is definitely a lie!!'' Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.

===Part 16===

The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—

The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”

“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”

“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”

Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,

“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”

“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”

“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”

She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.

Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.

“Where are you going?”

Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.

“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”

These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,

“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”

She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…

''What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh?'' Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 2

2013-06-08T07:30:23Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 2 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.

There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. ''Is this a mobile suit hangar?'' The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.

(Ple Twelve)

The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.

(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)

The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. ''Is this a new kind of experiment?'' Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.

If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.

Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. ''Is the man Alberto Vist?'' Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.

The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.

“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”

Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”

The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,

“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”

“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.

“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”

“Pitiful…?”

“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”

The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.

She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.

“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”

The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.

It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”

“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”

The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.

“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”

Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.

“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”

The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. ''What exactly is with this woman?'' Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.

“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”

“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”

“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”

''This woman is dangerous.'' Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”

Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”

“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”

Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.

Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.

“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”

''Even though you’re just a created being.'' Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.

The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…

“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine ''all of you'' piloted.”

Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.

[[Image:KSGU6 107.png|thumb]]

''That’s right, that’s the machine I, ''we'' rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it?'' Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. ''Maybe there might be other survivors—''

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. ''Impossible.'' Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.

It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. ''No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here.'' She thought.

“Look closely.”

Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.

“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”

The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. ''Stop it!'' Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.

“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”

Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. ''That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts'' there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.

“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”

Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.

“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”

The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.

===Part 2===

The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.

To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.

“This way, please.”

Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.

Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.

[[Image:KSGU6 111.png|thumb]]

“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”

“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”

Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.

“This isn’t popular in space.”

Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”

“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”

The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, as he then showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”

“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”

“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”

With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.

There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.

Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.

But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.

===Part 3===

At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.

However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.

In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.

A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.

But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.

However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—

“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”

It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.

“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”

Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”

“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”

“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”

Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”

“Talent?”

“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”

Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.

“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”

Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. ''Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now,'' Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.

It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.

“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”

Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.

“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”

The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”

“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”

“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”

''This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here.'' Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.

“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”

“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”

“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”

These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.

“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”

“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”

Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.

Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.

“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?

The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.

''I see, so this is what he’s planning.'' Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”

“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”

“I did hear of rumors…”

“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”

“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”

“The “Laplace Box”.”

Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.

“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”

Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.

The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.

Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. ''Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well?'' Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.

There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.

“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”

The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.

“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. ''Does he want his own son to check on me?'' Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.

“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”

“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”

''Even the mobile suit is assigned?'' Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.

Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.

===Part 4===

And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.

''Please do not leave this room during this time.'' It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.

''I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place.'' This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?

''It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation.'' The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, ''but even so'', as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.

She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. ''Why is it that you’re only showing up now?'' She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.

“Sorry, can I come in?”

Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.

“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”

The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.

“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”

He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.

“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”

Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.

“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”

“Sorry…?”

“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”

Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.

That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—

“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”

“The key…the “Unicorn”?”

Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.

“So…can you become a member of our family?”

In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.

“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”

To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.

“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”

“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”

Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. ''Why must I stay here? Why did I come here?'' This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.

Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. ''I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—''

“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”

Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.

“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”

Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.

''It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this.'' Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.

===Part 5===

Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.

If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the city neighbor. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiates, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back the car.

She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.

Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.

The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.

She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the cheers of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.

The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.

In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—

“You’re pretty used to it.”

Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.

“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’

“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”

“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed a earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned is, is this good for you?”

“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”

“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”

“Why?”

“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”

These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.

“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”

“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”

“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”

“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”

This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”

There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.

The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. ''They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth.'' Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.

As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,

“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”

===Part 6===

The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.

On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and head off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.

Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that their underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.

As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.

Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. ''The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together— ''

“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”

As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.

“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”

“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”

Zinnerman said. ''In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely?'' Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. ''Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?''

The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.

“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”

“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”

“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”

The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—

“That’s the parliament hall…”

“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”

Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”

Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.

===Part 7===

On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.

In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. ''Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security?'' Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.

The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. ''Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched.'' Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,

“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”

After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. ''Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine.'' Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.

He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.

If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.

“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”

“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”

It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.

“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”

Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.

''It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…''

But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. ''That’s because I want to know the answer,'' Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.

That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.

Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.

“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”

“Curse?”

[[Image:KSGU6 145.png|thumb]]

“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”

On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things her learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.

“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”

The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.

“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”

“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”

''I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.''—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.

“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”

Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.

“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”

“What does that mean.”

“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”

“Just some down and out activists…”

''But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated.'' Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.

“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”

These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.

“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”

“Even if…people shed blood for it?”

Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.

''In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light off many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…''

''Gyah!'' There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.

“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.

“You like children, don’t you?”

As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,

“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”

“10…!”

“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”

Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. ''So she too has such a wonderful thought.'' Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.

“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”

Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.

===Part 8===

Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.

In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.

“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”

The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.

“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”

Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.

“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”

“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.

“Yes…”

“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”

He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.

“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”

Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.

“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”

“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”

“Good. We can begin our operation then.”

“What operation?”

“An attack on Dakar.”

Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,

“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”

“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”

“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”

These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”

“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”

“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”

“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”

“That’s probably true.”

“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”

“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.

“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”

There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.

“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”

The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.

“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”

He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. ''If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—''.

“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”

Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,

“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”

“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”

There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.

“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’

“What do you mean?”

“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.

From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, ''Is that really the case?'' and tried to ask himself.

During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.

Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.

The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. ''Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right. ''

“Is that so?”

Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.

“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”

''Don’t say it.'' Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.

“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”

“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”

Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, ''this isn’t what dad planted into my mind.'' “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.

“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”

“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”

“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”

Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.

“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”

“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”

Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.

[[Image:KSGU6 158.png|thumb]]

“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”

“That’s enough, Banagher.”

Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. ''I spoke too much,'' Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.

“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”

“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”

Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—

“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”

After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with with.”

Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. ''Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”

“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use to chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”

“The Newtype Research…?”

“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”

Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.

“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”

Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.

“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”

Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.

“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”

Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.

===Part 9===

One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.

The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.

He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. ''I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right?'' Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.

“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”

Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.

“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”

“No. What you felt was correct.”

Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.

“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”

''Heart.'' Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,

“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driver by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”

Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. ''The captain’s still the same as usual.'' Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.

“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”

After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.

“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”

“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”

Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.

“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”

Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.

“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”

The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.

“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”

“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”

''Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before.'' Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.

“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”

Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely want Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what was something he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.

“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”

Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.

“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”

“What’s special…”

“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment from celebrating a little anyway.”

A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.

''Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon.'' Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, ''What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—''

===Part 10===

It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.

“Is that it…?”

He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.

The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.

The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.

Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.

“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”

Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.

The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.

“What…!?”

The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.

It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.

“What are these guys thinking…!”

Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.

“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”

There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.

[[Image:KSGU6 172.png|thumb]]

Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.

It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.

He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.

(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)

The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.

The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.

(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)

The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. ''What is this guy saying?'' Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)

(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)

(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)

(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. ''So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars?'' At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.

The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.

The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.

===Part 11===

The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.

This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.

The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.

If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…

“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”

Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.

Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.

“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”

Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.

“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”

“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”

Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”

As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.

“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”

It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.

“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”

Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.

“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”

“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.

“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”

“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.

“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”

“He passed.”

Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.

“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Yeah…”

“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”

Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.

“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”

Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”

“What is it?”

“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”

The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.

“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”

“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”

Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.

“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”

There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.

“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”

Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back ''You don’t say?'' He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.

''I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine—'' he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.

===Part 12===

Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”

“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”

Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.

“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”

''He saw through me.'' Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,

“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”

Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. ''So he’s still wary of me.'' He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”

“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”

“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”

“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”

''I can’t get into your clique anymore—'' these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.

“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”

The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.

“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”

They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.

“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”

“I don’t understand.”

He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”

“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”

“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”

“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”

Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. ''It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too.'' He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.

“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”

He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. ''I feel you’re a man of your word.'' He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.

===Part 13===

(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)

The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. ''Am I seeing a complete artificial image here?'' she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.

“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”

(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)

The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .

“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”

(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)

“Sieg Zeon.”

Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.

That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.

“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”

The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.

“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”

“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”

Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.

“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”

“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”

“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”

“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”

“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”

Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.

“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”

Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.

===Part 14===

The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.

There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.

The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.

''Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.'' Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.

There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.

The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.

“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”

Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.

''There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved.'' Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.

===Part 15===

Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. ''Where am I going? Why am I still walking?'' Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.

''Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. ''Where is this place? Who am I?'' She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.

It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.

“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”

The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. ''Is that Martha?'' Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.

Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.

''Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on.'' Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, ''But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—''

''“There’s no need for you to endure.”''
The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.

''“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”''

''I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me.'' Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. ''Please help me, tell them to stop.'' Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. ''No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.'' The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. ''I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…''

“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”

''“Light”''—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. ''Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer.'' Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.

''Crack.'' A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.

What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. ''Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?'' On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.

''“Master is broken.”''

The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. ''Impossible, this is definitely a lie!!'' Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.

===Part 16===

The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—

The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”

“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”

“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”

Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,

“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”

“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”

“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”

She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.

Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.

“Where are you going?”

Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.

“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”

These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,

“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”

She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…

''What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh?'' Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 2

2013-06-08T07:23:31Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 1 */

==Chapter 2==

===Part 1===

Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.

There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. ''Is this a mobile suit hangar?'' The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.

(Ple Twelve)

The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.

(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)

The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. ''Is this a new kind of experiment?'' Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.

If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.

Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. ''Is the man Alberto Vist?'' Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.

The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.

“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”

Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”

The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,

“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”

“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.

“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”

“Pitiful…?”

“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”

The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.

She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.

“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”

The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.

It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”

“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”

The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.

“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”

Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.

“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”

The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. ''What exactly is with this woman?'' Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.

“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”

“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”

“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”

''This woman is dangerous.'' Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”

Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”

“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”

Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.

Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.

“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”

''Even though you’re just a created being.'' Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.

The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…

“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine ''all of you'' piloted.”

Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.

[[Image:KSGU6 107.png|thumb]]

''That’s right, that’s the machine I, ''we'' rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it?'' Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. ''Maybe there might be other survivors—''

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. ''Impossible.'' Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.

It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. ''No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here.'' She thought.

“Look closely.”

Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.

“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”

The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. ''Stop it!'' Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.

“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”

Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. ''That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts'' there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.

“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”

Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.

“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”

The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.

===Part 2===

The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.

To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.

“This way, please.”

Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.

Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.

[[Image:KSGU6 111.png|thumb]]

“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”

“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”

Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.

“This isn’t popular in space.”

Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”

“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”

The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, and he then, he showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”

“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”

“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”

With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.

There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.

Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.

But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.

===Part 3===

At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.

However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.

In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.

A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.

But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.

However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—

“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”

It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.

“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”

Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”

“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”

“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”

Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”

“Talent?”

“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”

Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.

“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”

Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. ''Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now,'' Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.

It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.

“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”

Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.

“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”

The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”

“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”

“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”

''This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here.'' Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.

“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”

“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”

“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”

These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.

“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”

“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”

Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.

Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.

“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?

The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.

''I see, so this is what he’s planning.'' Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”

“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”

“I did hear of rumors…”

“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”

“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”

“The “Laplace Box”.”

Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.

“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”

Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.

The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.

Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. ''Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well?'' Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.

There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.

“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”

The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.

“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. ''Does he want his own son to check on me?'' Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.

“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”

“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”

''Even the mobile suit is assigned?'' Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.

Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.

===Part 4===

And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.

''Please do not leave this room during this time.'' It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.

''I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place.'' This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?

''It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation.'' The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, ''but even so'', as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.

She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. ''Why is it that you’re only showing up now?'' She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.

“Sorry, can I come in?”

Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.

“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”

The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.

“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”

He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.

“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”

Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.

“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”

“Sorry…?”

“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”

Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.

That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—

“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”

“The key…the “Unicorn”?”

Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.

“So…can you become a member of our family?”

In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.

“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”

To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.

“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”

“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”

Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. ''Why must I stay here? Why did I come here?'' This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.

Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. ''I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—''

“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”

Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.

“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”

Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.

''It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this.'' Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.

===Part 5===

Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.

If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the city neighbor. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiates, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back the car.

She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.

Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.

The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.

She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the cheers of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.

The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.

In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—

“You’re pretty used to it.”

Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.

“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’

“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”

“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed a earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned is, is this good for you?”

“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”

“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”

“Why?”

“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”

These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.

“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”

“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”

“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”

“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”

This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”

There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.

The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. ''They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth.'' Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.

As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,

“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”

===Part 6===

The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.

On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and head off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.

Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that their underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.

As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.

Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. ''The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together— ''

“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”

As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.

“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”

“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”

Zinnerman said. ''In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely?'' Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. ''Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?''

The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.

“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”

“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”

“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”

The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—

“That’s the parliament hall…”

“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”

Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”

Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.

===Part 7===

On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.

In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. ''Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security?'' Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.

The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. ''Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched.'' Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,

“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”

After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. ''Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine.'' Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.

He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.

If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.

“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”

“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”

It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.

“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”

Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.

''It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…''

But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. ''That’s because I want to know the answer,'' Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.

That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.

Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.

“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”

“Curse?”

[[Image:KSGU6 145.png|thumb]]

“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”

On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things her learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.

“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”

The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.

“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”

“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”

''I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.''—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.

“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”

Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.

“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”

“What does that mean.”

“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”

“Just some down and out activists…”

''But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated.'' Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.

“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”

These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.

“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”

“Even if…people shed blood for it?”

Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.

''In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light off many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…''

''Gyah!'' There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.

“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.

“You like children, don’t you?”

As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,

“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”

“10…!”

“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”

Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. ''So she too has such a wonderful thought.'' Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.

“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”

Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.

===Part 8===

Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.

In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.

“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”

The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.

“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”

Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.

“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”

“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.

“Yes…”

“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”

He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.

“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”

Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.

“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”

“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”

“Good. We can begin our operation then.”

“What operation?”

“An attack on Dakar.”

Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,

“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”

“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”

“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”

These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”

“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”

“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”

“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”

“That’s probably true.”

“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”

“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.

“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”

There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.

“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”

The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.

“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”

He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. ''If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—''.

“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”

Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,

“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”

“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”

There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.

“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’

“What do you mean?”

“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.

From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, ''Is that really the case?'' and tried to ask himself.

During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.

Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.

The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. ''Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right. ''

“Is that so?”

Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.

“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”

''Don’t say it.'' Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.

“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”

“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”

Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, ''this isn’t what dad planted into my mind.'' “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.

“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”

“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”

“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”

Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.

“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”

“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”

Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.

[[Image:KSGU6 158.png|thumb]]

“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”

“That’s enough, Banagher.”

Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. ''I spoke too much,'' Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.

“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”

“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”

Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—

“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”

After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with with.”

Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. ''Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”

“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use to chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”

“The Newtype Research…?”

“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”

Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.

“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”

Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.

“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”

Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.

“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”

Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.

===Part 9===

One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.

The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.

He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. ''I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right?'' Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.

“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”

Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.

“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”

“No. What you felt was correct.”

Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.

“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”

''Heart.'' Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,

“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driver by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”

Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. ''The captain’s still the same as usual.'' Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.

“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”

After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.

“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”

“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”

Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.

“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”

Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.

“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”

The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.

“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”

“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”

''Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before.'' Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.

“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”

Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely want Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what was something he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.

“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”

Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.

“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”

“What’s special…”

“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment from celebrating a little anyway.”

A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.

''Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon.'' Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, ''What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—''

===Part 10===

It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.

“Is that it…?”

He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.

The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.

The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.

Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.

“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”

Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.

The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.

“What…!?”

The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.

It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.

“What are these guys thinking…!”

Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.

“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”

There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.

[[Image:KSGU6 172.png|thumb]]

Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.

It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.

He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.

(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)

The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.

The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.

(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)

The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. ''What is this guy saying?'' Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)

(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)

(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)

(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. ''So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars?'' At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.

The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.

The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.

===Part 11===

The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.

This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.

The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.

If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…

“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”

Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.

Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.

“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”

Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.

“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”

“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”

Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”

As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.

“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”

It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.

“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”

Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.

“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”

“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.

“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”

“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.

“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”

“He passed.”

Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.

“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”

“Yeah…”

“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”

Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.

“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”

Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”

“What is it?”

“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”

The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.

“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”

“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”

Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.

“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”

There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.

“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”

Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back ''You don’t say?'' He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.

''I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine—'' he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.

===Part 12===

Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”

“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”

Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.

“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”

''He saw through me.'' Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,

“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”

Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. ''So he’s still wary of me.'' He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”

“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”

“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”

“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”

''I can’t get into your clique anymore—'' these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.

“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”

The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.

“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”

They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.

“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”

“I don’t understand.”

He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”

“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”

“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”

“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”

Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. ''It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too.'' He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.

“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”

He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. ''I feel you’re a man of your word.'' He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.

===Part 13===

(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)

The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. ''Am I seeing a complete artificial image here?'' she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.

“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”

(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)

The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .

“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”

(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)

“Sieg Zeon.”

Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.

That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.

“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”

The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.

“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”

“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”

Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.

“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”

“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”

“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”

“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”

“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”

Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.

“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”

Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.

===Part 14===

The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.

There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.

The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.

''Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.'' Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.

There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.

The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.

“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”

Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.

''There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved.'' Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.

===Part 15===

Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. ''Where am I going? Why am I still walking?'' Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.

''Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. ''Where is this place? Who am I?'' She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.

It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.

“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”

The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. ''Is that Martha?'' Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.

Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.

''Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on.'' Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, ''But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—''

''“There’s no need for you to endure.”''
The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.

''“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”''

''I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me.'' Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. ''Please help me, tell them to stop.'' Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. ''No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.'' The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. ''I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…''

“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”

''“Light”''—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. ''Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer.'' Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.

''Crack.'' A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.

What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. ''Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?'' On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.

''“Master is broken.”''

The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. ''Impossible, this is definitely a lie!!'' Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.

===Part 16===

The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—

The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”

“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”

“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”

Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,

“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”

“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”

“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”

She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.

Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.

“Where are you going?”

Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.

“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”

These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,

“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”

She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…

''What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh?'' Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 1

2013-06-08T07:13:41Z

75.191.206.178: /* Chapter 1 */

==Chapter 1==

===Part 1===

The voice that was heard from the headphone sounded like water flowing under the floor. ''Swoosh, kok kok'', such irregular sounds seemed similar to the sounds that would be made when changing water pipes.

“…I don’t know.”

The sonar operator opened his closed eyes and took off the headphones from his ears. The two on-duty crewmen beside him looked over at the sonar panel to check that all the functions were working properly, and then put their headphones back onto the console hook. The dim lighting of the sonar room showed the wry faces of shrugs, and Adi, who sat on the duty officer chair, felt a sense of despair.

The 42-year-old sonar operator was relatively experienced even amongst the highly experienced NCOs. When Adi was still a toddler learning how to walk, the sonar operator had already got onto the submarine. In terms of reading sonar, there was no doubt that the sonar operator was Adi’s senior, but he lacked sensibility. The sonar operator was used to not using his imagination, and kept following the conclusion made by the sonar receiver. However, no matter how advanced technology was, a submarine crew member required instinctive intuition and the ingenuity of a craftsman.

“This is the sound detected by the passive sonar 30 minutes ago. It really did not feel like the wavelength of a jet engine, and the sound does seem to flicker from time to time.

Of course, it was impossible for a rookie sonar operator who just got assigned here half a year ago to criticize him face to face. Adi put the sampling number of the audio record into the analyzing monitor, and cautiously said,

“However, there is a regular rhythm in the sound we received. This really doesn’t sound like an underground volcano activity. Some submarines amongst the old nuclear submarines would let out such sounds. If we can compare it with HQ’s database…”

The analyzing monitor showed uneven waveforms. Despite the ship database showing a lack of match, there was no guarantee that this was not a sound from the propulsion system of a submarine. At this point, the screw propellers would only be used when navigating on the water surface, and when submerged, the fusion water jet engine that produced less noise would be used. However, a noiseless propeller system technology had already been the subject of research ever since the old centuries, when USA and the Soviet Union were in the midst of their cold war. The sound displayed on the curve was similar in some extents the early silent propulsion system.

Adi probably would have viewed this as a noise created by natural phenomenon if he had not found past records in the library of the submarine school. He continued to increase the intensity level of the sound analyzing monitor, but the sonar operator gave him a sighing voice, “I say, Adi…”

“It’s a good thing to be passionate about your research, and I admit that your ears are very sensitive. However, this isn’t a group activity a student’s doing here. Is it possible for a nuclear submarine in the old times to appear here? It’s true that some certain old century submarines are still in service, but their facilities are already upgraded. Do you feel that anyone will still use those antiques that are shelved outside the ship’s database.”

The sonar operator stood up, got behind the duty crew member, and put his hand on his fat waist. He, who had maintained a nice slim figure when he was young, finally succumbed to the biggest enemy of a submarine crew member, a lack of exercise. What was worse was that the food provided in submarines were the best in the army.

“Listen up, we’re looking for a spaceship here, a spaceship of those Zeon remnants who pulled off this one heck of an acrobatic and fell into the Atlantic Ocean. They definitely injected water inside the ship and submerged underwater. It’s impossible for that ship to make the noise of a water jet engine, and it’s definitely more impossible to make the sound an ancient nuclear engine. You’ll just hear the sound of the ship hull being compressed because of this unexpected submersion, and that should be what you’re looking for. The navy isn’t giving you expensive equipment just to satisfy your own interests.

The words that pressed down on Adi’s head caused him to feel that it was no different from the water pressure pressing down on the ship body. He lowered his dejected face, “Yes” and put on the headphones again. The sonar operator snorted, pulled his stomach in and passed behind the duty crew member to leave the sonar room that could be said to be as cramped as a can of sardines.

The curtain rail that was used as a separation was pulled aside, and the air came flowing into the sonar room from the neighboring command room. Unlike the cramped sonar room, the command room that was 10m wide would often have 10 important crew members ranked below the captain working there. To the Earth Federation Submarine EFS “Bonefish”, this block was basically functioning as a brain. The sonar room that was connected directly to it had to use the sonar sensors equipped inside the ship to act as the ears as far as possible, and report the situation around the ship to the central command. All duties were handled mechanically in rhythm in this 200m long Juneau-class submarine, and this was one of the organs supporting it.

At this point, the submarine was 300m in depth. It was moving at 10 knots per hour as it moved between the African continent and the South American continent. The Atlantic Ocean below the equator continued to search below the wide ocean space approximately 50m below. This belt of mountains underwater in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean was called the Romansh fault zone. As the young crust formed here had some magnetic minerals, it was very difficult for the sonar sensor to detect. If the Neo Zeon spaceship wanted to hide, this would be the most suitable space. The precipitous reefs around the fault were also in the way of the search, but it was imaginable that the enemy would not submerge too deep. Even if they have similar air capacity, the pressure resistance specifications of a spaceship would still be far inferior to a submarine. If they wanted to sink deeper, they would be crushed by the water pressure before their allied forces came to save them.

No, basically, it was worth doubting whether there were forces on Earth that could be considered their ally. It had been three days since they started the search, and the underwater search monitor only showed signs of reefs, and the source of this sound that was detected was the allied ship that was carrying out the search at the same time. The mood in this submarine that was under the normal marine department felt as relaxing as naval training, and the crew all forgot about the tension they had when they started launching. Adi felt that he was quickly losing interest in the source of this unknown sound as he sighed. Beside him, Corporal Genon heard him out and said, “Don’t think too much about it.”

“The sonar operator is an athletic type who became famous for football, so he can’t get along with an academic-based man like you.”

Genon took down the headphones on his ears as he smiled, “But I do feel that it’s not an ancient nuclear submarine as well. There’s no response on the sound screen anyway, so I think you probably heard the sigh of a “Sea Ghost”.”

“A sea ghost?”

“it’s just a rumor. About half a month ago, the SOSUS detected an unknown sound at the Atlantic control branch. At that time, they were wondering if there was a system malfunction…”

The so-called SOSUS was a defense system spread throughout all oceans in the world by using the sonar receptor embedded at the seabed. This system was particularly concentrated at the ports of several constituent countries, and it was not a laughable affair when the SOSUS of the Atlantic near the Federation government capital, Dakar malfunctioned. “Why doesn’t this news get reported?” Adi pointed out.

“Because the system is just titular decorations after the Zeon remnants navy got dispersed. They’re scared that the budget will be cut if they reported this malfunction.”

“Is that so…”

“It seemed that the people from my dad’s time even had a fierce fight with Zeon’s “Mad Anglers”, but currently, it’s impossible for the diving fleet to meet actual battle anyway. Even our “Bonefish” is an old granny of 17 ship years. The navy would have been toast together with the army if not for the consideration of unemployment. In this age, the reason why everyone can live is all because of the space forces.”

“Then why did you join the army?”

“To obey my parents. If the son isn’t serving in the army, the retired officer living off pension will be sent to space. At their age, I don’t want to send them to live in the colony. Aren’t you the same?”

As Genon glanced over at him, “I…” Abi could only mumble as he turned to look at the sonar board. Adi’s father was a NCO in the navy, and without that relationship, there was no way he could have entered the army. Deep inside his heart, he did think that he could continue to remain on Earth as long as he stayed in the navy, but he did not choose to join the navy simply because of self-preservation. He simply loved ships, not the ships flying around in space, but a real ship that moved on the sea.

Due to his father’s occupation, he was often near a base in his youth. Perhaps it was because of this that he loved the sea ever since he was young. Adi always respected his father, who was awarded a shiny dolphin mark that was hung in front of his chest, and the bedtime stories that were told when he was young left him longing for the sea. The singing of the whales that could be detected from the sonar, the beauty of the sea surface at sunset, the mobile suits of Zeon that looked like Krakens', and the suffocating intense battles against enemy submarines—especially at the end of the One Year War, where the great naval battle near the coast of Jaburo, the old headquarters of the Federation army, took place. Adi kept begging his father to keep talking about that story, and he did not know how many times he heard it.

When he was young, Adi hoped to enter the navy when he was young and board a submarine. Despite him becoming distant from his father in his youth like ordinary people, he never lost sight of this aim. He successfully entered naval cadet academy, got more points than what was required to graduate through extra-curriculum studying, and was given the right to be assigned to the “Bonefish”, considered the newest submarine even as the naval fleet’s equipment were stagnated. It was of the same class of submarine as the one Adi’s father rode on in the War, both Juneau-class ship and Adi definitely understood its structure and capabilities as well as the captain. He enthusiastically embarked on his first voyage, but the seas after the war was different from what his father said. It was not a place of adventure.

After two Neo Zeon wars, the Zeon remnants left on Earth were basically swept, and the ones were merely some sporadic terrorist attacks from guerilla forces. Earth did not experience a real large scale war for 5 years. Despite the Neo Zeon forces that were derogatorily called “Sleeves”, the uprisings normally happened in space, and it was completely unrelated to the navy, especially the diving fleet that would only remain underwater.

“I heard that the battle before caused the relic of “Laplace” to be wrecked.”

Genon changed the topic. Adi remembered seeing the debris of that official residence in low orbit through the window when he went on a space camp in primary school. He added on, “Looks that way.”

“They said that the Neo Zeon ship crashed into Earth together with the relic there…those ''aliens'' were really persistent.”

Genon gave a wry look as he put the headphone back on to end this idle chat time. ''That’s right, those aliens have come to our territory.'' Adi thought about that again as he held onto the headphone tightly. ''The space forces did not know about the seas, so if a commotion in space is dragged to the sea, we’re the only ones who can respond.'' Adi mused in his head as he looked back to inspect on the various functions on the console.

He inspected the underwater search monitor that could recreate the situation at the seabed through CG and the sound screen that showed the shape of the target through the active sonar reflected off the bottom of the sea. The main sonars that were installed on the bow and the sides, separated equally, could block off all excessive sounds and concentrate the detected sounds inside the head phones. The excessive sounds here would refer to the machine sounds from the “Bonefish” itself and the fusion water jet engines installed on both sides letting out sounds of sea water being stirred.

The air pressure from Earth to space would actually go from one to zero, but in water, the water pressure would increase according to the depth. Considering that the place was not suited for humans to live in, a seabed of 300m was an isolated zone like space. Even if the enemy spaceship sank into the bottom of the ocean, it was not easy to save it. However, there was a chance that the Zeon remnants had a submarine for rescue. Adi closed his eyes, put his elbow on the console and paid whole attention to listen out for the sound. He pricked his ears upon hearing the water flow that sounded like it was shaking an old pipe, and wanted to identify the enemy presence that was submerged underwater.

The area around the submarine was darkness, where light could not return. If there were windows, it was possible that they would be seeing darkness that was darker than space. Above this place was the ocean surface, sky and space where there were tens of billions living there. ''What kind of people do the people living in the colonies see us as?'' Adi gave a wry smile as he suddenly thought about him. He, who remained on Earth, stayed in a large metal tube that was moving at the bottom of the sea. It seemed that the people who moved to the space colonies called Earth as a gravity well, so people like him probably drew the short stick of the gravity well by staying over here—

''Gonk!'' At this moment, the blunt sound of metal knocking into each other rang in Adi’s ears.

The hand that was pressed on the headphone immediately tightened up, and he looked over at Genon beside him. It seemed that the other man heard the same sound too. Adi turned his pale face, worked on the console, pulled out the problematic sounds, corrected them, and stared at the round screen of the sonar radar. Soon, the screen showed an orange light, and a sound beeping alarm rang as it entered Adi’s ears.

There were no matches. It was impossible to detect the propeller noises, but something was approaching gradually from the starboard. The distance was less than 1,000 meters, and an unknown metallic sound continued to ring. Adi only called about taking up the wireless communicator microphone in the ship as he yelled, “COMMAND, THIS IS THE SONAR!”

“Sonar detected, position 132. Target speed estimated at 30 knots.”

The metallic sound that had a mysterious rhythm to it did not stop. As Adi and Genon were carrying out their own identifications, the voices of the captain and the sonar operator rang inside the sonar room. The captain looked skinnier as compared to the sonar operator, and he looked less lively as before due to a recent gastric ulcer surgery. However, to a marine, the captain was still a respected figure, “What do you think that is?” Adi saw the captain lower his head to stare at him, and tensed up as he answered,

“I don’t know. This sounds different from a torpedo tube being opened, but it still does sound metallic. I’m guessing that it’s a machine running…most likely, the sound of an actuator running.”

Adi finished, and he himself felt that this was the case. This deep ringing sound that persisted on did seem similar to a crane or a similarly large machine. The sonar operator said, “This guy’s a rookie, but his ears are sharp.” The captain put the standby headphones over his ears and put his mouth to the nearby wireless communicator microphone.
“Command, this is the captain speaking. Get the torpedo crew to position. Head east and prepare room for vessel operations. Increase speed by 10.”

''Ting, ding.'' The speed indicator rang, and as the submarine sped up as it changed its course, the inertia that was caused started to act on the bodies. The sonar operator put his hands on Adi’s to support himself, and it seemed that he was praising the rookie for responding quickly. The competing sense of delight and tension rose in him as he looked tense while operating on the console, “Target’s increasing in speed!” but was shocked by Genon’s called.

“Distance at 800. Coming right at us!”

The flickering on the radar was quickly approaching the circle. It went passed 40 knots, the fastest speed a Juneau-class could move in water. The captain with an obvious black-ethnic blood immediately turned pale and commanded to the wireless communicator. “Command, increase speed by 10 again. Go full throttle.” At the same time, the sonar operator yelled “Hit the piner!” and Adi immediately pressed the active sonar on the console.

''KONG!''A shrill sound spread through the speakers, rocking the ship body of the “Bonefish”. The reflected waves bounced through the machine 4 times faster than it was in air, and the target silhouette appeared on the sound screen. One could feel that everyone present gasped.

As both sides were basically maintaining the same height, the shape of that thing was definitely how it looked from the front. However, the target’s silhouette was extremely abnormal. It was shaped like a flat rhombus, its longest length was 80m long, and its height was more than 30m tall. Looking at its shape, it was most definitely not a submarine, or rather, it was far from an ideal submarine. Also, the target was changing shapes from time to time as it approached the submarine underwater at a high speed.

[[Image:KSGU6 020.png|thumb]]

“Is that the sea ghost…?”

The captain mused. The object continued to approach with its propeller system still silent, charging right at the starboard of the “Bonefish” that turned back. ''It doesn’t have a fusion water jet engine, so why it is able to move so freely in the sea? '' Adi’s mind went blank as the sonar operator pushed him aside to work on the sonar board. “60! It’ll crash into us directly!” he warned. “Emergency evasion…” the captain ordered in the wireless communicator, “Too late!” but Genon yelled louder as the sudden feeling of death that came caused Adi’s body to stiffen.

''I’ll die in such a place. I haven’t done anything yet. I’m not as active as dad, and I never experienced such adventures. The sunsets, whale songs, everything, I haven’t experienced—''

“IMPACT!”

The captain’s voice that sounded like a scream rang in the ears. Then, the sound of metal being ripped echoed through the ship, and Adi was thrown off the ship.

Genon too was knocked aside, and the captain and sonar operator had their backs crashed into the wall. The alarm rang, the lights were flickering, and Adi heard the sound of the ship being crushed. A large amount of seawater was rushing in through the ripped shape, and the hull where up and down could not be identified continued to sink. The sea ghost that bared its sea monster-like fangs gnawed the entire submarine to shreds—and Adi’s consciousness faded as he swallowed the fear his father never experienced.

===Part 2===
The ‘claw’ that penetrated through the rubber-like sound-absorbing material cut a hole through the belly of the submarine and pulled it out.

The high pressure of air inside the ballast tanks spurted out of the crack, and the “Bonefish” was surrounded by the forceful air bubbles. The seawater replaced the air as it flowed in, tilting the submarine to the right, and the buoyancy was completely negated as the “Bonefish” sank to the bottom of the sea. The hull hit the seabed violently, and before the dust of the reefs being scattered spread in the sea, the object nicknamed the sea ghost started to float slowly.

The unit had 3 sharp claws on its pair of arms—or rather, forelegs, and they bend back with the sound of the actuator ringing. The part that was installed at the base of the arms were arched shaped armor that looked like shells, and from the front, its silhouette looked like a flattened rhombus, but it was merely a small part of this complicated model. The gigantic arms and narrow streamlined body made its mechanical silhouette look like a crustacean residing in the sea, while the rear end of the body looked like a hermit crab that was much larger in volume than the body. Looking down from above, its front end had the form of a spade, and it was reminiscent of a raptor. The part that looked like a head had a crack on it, and one could see a brightly glowing ‘eye’ inside.

The mono-eye sensor that was first developed by the old Principality of Zeon flickered, and the air bubbles carried its back that was giving off air bubbles as it started to leave the bottom of the seabed that was in eternal darkness. Its arms turned behind, overlapping with the armor on its shoulders, and changed its form. The arms turned behind, shelved in with the shoulders armors. It changed its form to become a completely streamlined body, but the form itself showed no sense of submersion at all. It was possible to find such machines that were shaped like monsters in this Minovsky Particle era of weapons, weapons that were half similar to a mobile suit—mobile armors. The AMA-X7 “Shamblo” flipped over its large body that looked like a kraken as it moved amidst the high pressure of the deep sea. The Magneto Hydro Dynamics (MHD) units installed within its shoulder armor continued to let out a different noise from the fusion water jet engine as it changed its course horizontally at a depth of around 100m.

Unlike mobile suits that were fixed to be humanoid mobile weapons, mobile armors were not fixed in shape. As long as it could satisfy its original purpose, the size of it did not matter, and the limbs that controlled the unit’s mobility need not be limited to limbs alone. The “Shamblo” itself was no exception, and in fact, it looked like a submarine that had arms for combat, but the unique trait was that only a few pilots were needed to operate this, unlike a submarine that required many people. There was a cockpit block with a linear structure in the middle of this unit that could be considered a motor fortress—and over there, one could see Mahdi Garvey seated on the captain seat, looking down at the CG corrected seabed image.

There was a wide space akin to that of a shuttle control room in this cockpit, and there was a wall of screen right at the front. There were three operating seats in front of the screen, one to operate, one to detect, and one to defend. The captain’s seat controlled the attacks, and there was a very large and high space behind the cockpit. Of course, the captain’s seat could control everything in this system when things were critical.

The screen replicated the scenes in the sea through the combined information obtained from the nightvision cameras and the sonar, and the enemy submarine that was sunk was giving of air bubbles and floating materials that scattered everyone. Walid and Abbas, 2 young men that were old enough to have beards, were seated on the operating and detection seats respectively as they stared at that scene. The only female, Loni was seated on the defense seat as she continued to stare at the screen. Mahdi saw that her delicate shoulders were tensed up, “Are you scared, Loni?” and asked her from the behind the console of the captain’s seat. The light brown face covered by the helmet visor turned around, “Yes, father.” and Loni’s black eyes looked anxious as she answered.

“That’s good. Those who aren’t willing to show emotions will not be able to handle things coolly when something unexpected happens. Abbas, Walid, watch carefully too. We just killed more than 200 enemies. There’ll be more bloodshed after this, so don’t you look away from the corpses of the enemies.

“Yes.” Abbas and Walid answered in unison as they stared at the blood and entrails. As according to customs that lasted since ancient times, Madhi had many wives and many concubines, and the 3 people in front of him at this point had the purest of bloodline in the Garvey family. Madhi really wanted to let his deceased father, who was unable to see the faces of his grandchildren, everything, including the first results of the “Shamblo”. Fear and excitement continued to make him feel this way originally, but he immediately changed his mind soon. He thought about how it would not be long before he meets his father, and his beard that had some white hairs in it curled up above his mouth.

It had been more than 6 years since he inherited the inheritance from the First Neo Zeon war and started to build this “Shamblo”. Looking at the remnants of the submarine that sank in front of their eyes, the Earth Federation army would know that the sea ghost was not a mere illusion. Those people would understand immediately that this so-called thing would create a more direct threat to them. The dormant period had ended, and the time to take action had finally arrived. After the several battles in space, the “Box” fell onto Earth—and they were fighting for this “Box” that could topple the Federation government.

However, it was still unknown where the Neo Zeon ship that had the “Box” went. It had been 3 days since they received the report, and Madhi searched around the ocean where they could have possibly crashed into, but there were still no results. He turned his eyes on the seabed search monitor that showed the bits of the enemy submarine that were swimming about. Abbas, who was seated on the central control seat, said, “The “Sleeves” Heavy Lift Vehicles will fall onto Earth immediately, and interrupted with a steady voice befitting that of the eldest son.

“I heard that the “Garencieres” entered the atmosphere in the middle of battle. Is it possible that it broke up in air or split into pieces when it landed in the water?”

“Zinnerman won’t make that mistake. But it’s possible that they went slightly off course and was forced to land in the desert…”

He met the captain of this cargo ship in question, Suberoa Zinnerman once. They had different beliefs, and Madhi felt that the other man was a warrior, but in the end, he felt that the simple truth was that the fate of humans was in God’s hands. The time that was set at Greenwich Standard indicated 6:40 am. After checking the time, Madhi checked the time it would take to reach the HLV reclamation point, decided that it was time to pack up, and lifted his head from the console.

“Can’t be helped. We’ll pause our search for the “Garencieres” for the time being. New course, position 020. Let’s go retake the “Sleeves” HLV.”

His three children repeated this command as they worked on their respective consoles. The MHDs propellers on the shoulders absorbed seawater, and the large body of the “Shamblo” tilted slightly.

The slits on the shoulders took in seawater, and the powerful magnetic field created by the superconductive coil triggered the tube-shaped propellers that would absorb seawater and shoot it backwards in an accelerated manner. The MHD was the earliest system that was developed amongst the silent propulsion systems, but it was soon forgotten because of the similarly silent fusion water jet engines that were becoming commonplace as it lacked output. For a large mobile armor like the “Shamblo” that completely abandoned hydromechanics with its exterior, this was still insufficient, and there was a completely different engine in it.

The machine that was like a large ray quickly spun rode on the water flow raised by the MHD propulsion system, and tilted its slanted position back horizontally. The Minovsky particle spaceship engines that were hidden inside the arms were installations used when a spaceship moved under gravity. It could scatter Minovsky particles regularly and create I-fields to let the object float. The engines the “Shamblo” had were considered amongst the newest amongst the Minovsky era crafts that were becoming smaller, and the seawater that was ionized by the I-field would become the ‘protective layer’, greatly reducing the resistance when diving in the water. This was the result from the Neo Zeon development plans and the Garvey Enterprises developing this. In fact, the expenses for producing a “Shamblo” alone was enough to build a solar generator that could power three basic industries.

However, this was worth it. The “Shamblo” that obtained the power of the Minovsky Craft system would show its real value once it landed. He sat in this cockpit that would not shake, checked that the functions of the “Shamblo” were perfect, and said as if he was muttering to himself, “In the worst case scenario, even if we can’t find the “Garencieres”, there will still be a way.”

“Things are moving. The fact that Full Frontal, who remained completely silent before this is hurriedly sending reinforcements over here is the best proof. Also, with this “Shamblo”, I can look forward to settling the hundred years of grudge as a “descendant of Dubai”…”

Loni merely moved her head slightly as the three children did not say anything. They bore the tragic fate of their race and the power to topple the current situation. Madhi stared at the backs of the trio and looked over at the sea surface that was rippling 100m above. The CG corrected screen showed the sea surface, radiating with what he believed to be a Holy light, indicating for sure that Allah existed, and seemed to be blessing the “Shamblo” that managed to succeed in its first battle.

The large body of the “Shamblo” continued to move in the water as it shook the Neo Zeon medal that was a mere formality. The weak propulsion sound was not detected by the sonar’s eyes as the machine disappeared deep within the veil of the thick seawater.

===Part 3===

“It sank?”

Ronan Marcenas could not help but parrot the other person’s words as he lifted his head from the documents he read halfway. “Yes.” Patrick answered as he put the readied information onto the table.

“Vice Admiral Ted privately contacted us. The rescue team is currently sent to the water site, but the chances of the crew surviving are despairingly slim…”

It seemed that Patrick’s words tailed off weakly not just because he was feeling compassionate about the submarine that was sunk. Ever since the Neo Zeon ship that took in the “Unicorn” dropped onto Earth, Patrick had been busy running around the area where he was contesting for elections, and had to become the relay man between the Senate Council that included Ronan, and the Central Intelligence Branch. Ronan looked away from his anxious looking son-in-law as he picked up the information that had the works for internal use and quickly browsed through it.

The EFS “Bonefish” last sent a distress signal at the Atlantic Ocean, and lost signal after that. It was not hard to imagine that the military vessel that went to search for a Neo Zeon ship made contact with a Zeon remnant that was looking for the same target, and was sunk before it could fight back. Ronan looked at the crew list that had no purpose other than to act as a list of names, and muttered deep within his heart, ''Are these martyrs for the “Box”?'' He then took off his reading glasses and put aside the stacked information. ''This is retribution for dealing with the unemployment issue so carelessly, huh?”, he mused as he turned his chair to the window behind him. The office that retained light extremely well in this residence was basked in the midst of the scorching afternoon sunlight.

“The Minovsky particles jamming the sensors aren’t the cause of this incident. After the war ended, the reason why no one went to repair the surveillance network destroyed by Zeon was because people wanted to leave the surveillance job to the Earth military. That’s why it’s so troublesome to search for a ship that dropped onto Earth. Even if the remnant army managed to build up their forces, the current situation is such that the military is unable to grasp information about them. There’s no need to let people waste their lives like this if the surveillance satellites of the same level as before the war are still functioning in the first place…”

Patrick showed neither affirmation nor negation as he turned his face to Ronan. It was no wonder, as Ronan’s era was the one that established this system, while his era would be the one forced to pay the price. Ronan rubbed his eyes and held his sigh in forcefully as he looked back at Patrick with an appropriate look to his first secretary, and said, “Then, how are things proceeding?” Patrick took out the other information tucked under his armpit and spoke,

“I sieved through the namelist the vice-admiral handed over. This one should be most suitable.”

Ronan put on his glasses as he glanced at the information with the data. “Commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa…” he read as he looked up at Patrick, “So he came down to Earth?”

“He rode on the “Ra Cailum” to the Far East in order to test the newly equipped Minovsky Craft. This man is a commander, but he is also acting as a captain at the same time. I suppose it’s because he is a man who’s born to be on a ship, and I do find him a serious and upright person.”

“This man is stubborn. You’ve at least heard of his name, right?”

“Of course. To a young man like me, he’s a hero in the past anyway. I was engrossed when I read about the “Battle records of White Base.”

“The legend that time caused misunderstandings about him, and he was excluded from the mainstream military. The higher ups thought that he had thoughts of rebelling…to put it simply, they suspect him as a Newtype. After that, the Senate Council seemed like it had intentions of pulling him out, but he was merely satisfied with acting as commander of Londo Bell from the sidelines. Well, he’s not a man suited for politics.”

Ronan spoke of what he saw on the surface, “Can you rein him in?” and gave a probing look. Patrick did not avoid his father-in-law’s stare as he answered,

“That “Nahel Argama” belongs to Londo Bell. It had been severed from contact with the command of Londo Bell ever since the ship was loaned out to the Senate Council. To a man like Captain Bright, he will be tense over being unable to contact a ship under his command, let alone knowing that the ship is involved with the previous terrorist attacks.”

''There’s hope if we go in from there,'' Ronan felt somewhat chilly in his heart as he saw Patrick’s face indicate this as such. He imagined how this man who was known for his sportsmanship, was gradually being dyed in the color of politics, and felt both reliable and guilty. He took off his reading glasses and gave the other man a serious look, “Is the “Nahel Argama” stuck in its orbit?”

“it’s the doing of the Vist Foundation. The crew on the “Nahel Argama” are directly involved in these incidents. If they come out to testify, the allies supporting the Foundation will be in danger.”

“In other words, if they’re still in the hands of the Senate Council, we have nothing to sue the Foundation with. Also, the Earth military searching the “Sleeves” are under the Foundation’s watch. We need to get a pawn here. This pawn must have a sharp mind and must know how to deal with complicated situations.

Ronan stared over at the photo of Captain Bright which looked resilient and upright, and tapped his index finger on the table. After about 3 seconds, he made his decision and put the stack of information into the drawer, saying, “Help me arrange a meeting with him.”

“Looking at how we can’t survive without the tension of war, the Earth military is more reliant than the space military. The news that Mineva Zabi accepted our protection has probably reached the Foundation’s ears. You have to proceed cautiously.”

“Alright. Meet in Dakar?”

“No, this place is good. Make it quick. I can’t leave Dakar for too long.”

It would take slightly more than 2 hours to fly from Atlanta to Dakar if he rode on the Hypersonice Transport (HST). He could return back immediately if he wanted to, but he did not want to talk about measures to be taken against the “Box” at the Parliament where the reporters would work in shifts and patrol there. He saw his first secretary nod his head, turned around, and wanted to look away, but recalled something as he called out to the other man facing away from him, “Patrick.” The son-in-law seemed like he detected the slight change in tone as he turned his face around and looked over his own shoulder.

“…Eh, are you still on good terms with Cynthia?”

Ronan sensed that his words at this point seemed hollow as compared to before, but he could not help but continue his words fluently. Cynthia did not know that the person called Audrey Burne was Mineva Zabi herself, and she was completely locked out of the loop in this battle for the Box”, but there was no reason why the very instinctive daughter of the Marcenas family would not detect the heinous air inside and outside the family. Ronan did hear from the butler Dwiyon secretly that Cynthia was feeling more and more frustrated with Patrick for being unwilling to say anything, and a cold wind was blowing amidst their relationship.

Patrick showed a somewhat unexpected look, “Please don’t worry.” and answered as he relaxed his mouth. That delicate smile showed a concern for the father-in-law, and also looked like it was teasing a man who was clumsy when it came to domestic affairs.

“She is becoming a little nervous, but she is an adult. It seems that she’s getting along well with Miss Mineva…Audrey too.”

“Really?”

“But please find a chance to explain to her. She’s a member of the Marcenas’ family after all.”

''I’m just an outsider after all'' these words that came out of left field entered Ronan’s unprepared heart, and Patrick left the office. This would be the fate of a man who did not care about his family, doing something he was not used to doing. He endured the pain that crept into his chest, pushed back the leather chair and got up. He stood at the window and looked at the courtyard where the sun shone down on.

The Dogwood trees that surrounded the residence were growing light pink flowers. The Late April of Southern USA accepted summer faster than the Northern Hemisphere. The greenness got thicker, and Ronan, who was fascinated by this scene under the shining sun, heard the sound of the horse galloping far away , and looked over there. He saw the horse rushing through the Dogwood.

He recognized that the hands holding onto the reins belonged to Riddhe, who had his legs tucked tightly around the horse’s abdomen, and he lowered himself such that his chest nearly touched the horse’s neck. The face that became one with the horse appeared and vanished between the gaps of the trees. He critiqued the school’s British horse-riding the school taught as boring, learnt Western horse-riding on his own, and did not look elegant at this point. He looked very different from the high class people, and was racing as if he wanted to be primitive like the horse, but his flowing blond hair was so beautiful it throbbed in Ronan’s heart, who watched his son ride on the horse until he disappeared. His hair color looked like golden flames that were bursting with all sorts of emotions in his heart—

However, there was a tinge of dark shadow on his back. He managed to remain oblivious to the truth until a few days ago, but after knowing how fragile the base supporting this world was, he looked like he was racing on the horse while trying to shake off the shadow on him. But no matter how he dashed, those things could not be shaken away. Whether it was the truth about the “Laplace Box” or the destiny that await the Marcenas family, Riddhe could only view them as part of him and try to accept it as he continued. Ronan sighed deeply as he turned his back against the window. He could not shake off the galloping sound he once heard as it remained in his extremely unhappy body.

===Part 4===

She heard before that there were no animals that were more sensitive to human emotions than horses. If the person on the saddle was filled with vigor, the horse would be willing to listen to the command; if the rider showed any fear, the horse would look down on the rider. It seemed that the horse could detect even a bluff as it would suddenly stop and move at times and do disobedient things to the rider. As its appearance showed, a horse was probably a very proud living creature.

[[Image:KSGU6 035.png|thumb]]

At this point, this horse that was racing definitely understood its rider’s feelings. This Anglo Arabic horse let its pitch black mane sway as it ran around the outskirts of the wide courtyard, seemingly becoming one with Riddhe Marcenas. Even if someone stood on the terrace and looked down, that person could sense how the duo became one, and Mineva Zabi felt amazed by this. That horse looked like it really trusted Riddhe, or it would not be racing so quickly like that.

However, it was a little saddening to see it like that. The rider looked like he wanted to vent all the frustrations he accumulated for a long time as he was forced to pick up the reins, and the horse that felt its rider’s emotions looked somewhat fearful. The rider wanted to run away from something he could not shake off no matter what he did, and the horse looked like it was racing with fire burning on it…''would its feet not be burned if it raced like that?''

As Mineva thought, she subconsciously thought of poking her body out from the parapet of the terrace, and sensed someone behind her. Cynthia Marcenas appeared as she stood at the glass door that was pushed aside, and she met Mineva in the eyes as she said, “Its name is Pligrim, a horse Riddhe’s been taking care for a while.” She showed a smile that had no other intention as she strolled over while her blond hair fluttered. Mineva felt somewhat guilty in her heart as she avoided the stare of the other person.

“It’s not a horse that’s easy to tame, but for some reason, it’s extremely close to Riddhe. If I want to ride on it, it’ll definitely look away first. However, it’s been 3 years since that child left the house.”

Cynthia stood beside her and looked over, “How about you try to ride on it?” it was obvious from her stare that she was trying to test. “No thanks…” Mineva answered as she looked back at the courtyard.

Mineva remembered that when she was young, during the time when the Neo Zeon space fortress “Axis” was still around, she had some beginner lessons on horse riding at a colony somewhere. It was too awkward to see the regent and her people look at her worriedly, and she once rode on a horse and sprinted off without listening to advice. However, she did not think that she could ride on that horse in her current state of mind. Even if she asked Riddhe to help her hold the reins, it would only bother the horse that would be carrying 2 people. Cynthia looked down at Riddhe that was riding on the horse, “He’s really a useless child.” She sighed as she mused, and Mineva did not feel comfortable hearing this.

“He’s always been like this in the past, always unable to hide what he was thinking, and never cared about the people around him when he put his mind to him. He’s already everywhere at once, but he’s attracted to small details for some reason, so he’ll always bear everything by himself alone.”

''This is really a rather accurate correct analysis.'' Mineva felt impressed that Riddhe’s relative was able to see through him so thoroughly, but felt a little depressed as she thought about how she had not been talking to Riddhe during this while, and looked away to the sky.

It had been 3 days since the time she first stayed at the Marcenas’ residence. Riddhe was often not home as he had to deal with the repairs of the “Delta Plus” that was left at base and other things, so she did not have the chance to talk to him, while Ronan and Patrick would constantly avoid her. The ones who would meet her were Cynthia and Dwiyon, and it was obvious that the men with status were unwilling to meet her. Cynthia too detected this unnatural atmosphere—but to her, the girl should be the source of this strange phenomenon. Mineva thought about this, felt that the sunlight that could shine in her became uncomfortable, and lowered her face.

''I just want to leave this place,'' she thought. ''I can’t do anything even if I stay here. Will I merely be imprisoned here as Audrey Burne and become a diplomatic card to be used in the future? Or will I feel the unknown attraction on my skin just like that night we had the party…''

“Our family is like this, so it’s kind of hard to relax…but I hope that you’ll watch over Riddhe. I suppose that guy will recover to who he is normally after a while.”

Mineva’s shoulder that was touched shuddered slightly, and she recovered from her thoughts. Cynthia showed an understanding smile of one of the same gender before leaving the terrace. ''So being attentive to small details is a trait in the family? She watched the back profile of the calm and carefree adult leave as she felt miserable and grateful, muttering inside her heart that it would be great if that were really the case. However, Cynthia’s guess would most likely be wrong, as her view about anomaly in Riddhe’s heart being a one-time change was just a hopeful expectation. He, who was gradually changing, was suffering over it. It was because Mineva was an outsider who need not be responsible for this—or rather, she was the one who bore his emotions that flowed—that she was able to see the change in Riddhe most clearly.

But at this point, Mineva could not tell what kind of emotions Riddhe was experiencing. She sighed and looked up at the blue sky where the clouds were gathered. She heard from the news that there seemed to be a battle in low orbit on the other end of the sky. ''If that battle triggered the recent commotion, is there a Neo Zeon vessel entering Earth? What’s the situation with the “Garencieres” now? What about the “Nahel Argama”, “Unicorn” and Banagher?''

She continued to remain in where she was even as events were progressing at every moment. Mineva closed her mouth as she felt anxious and wanted to shout out. Riddhe’s shouts as he raced on the horse echoed through the echo, and the galloping filled with his anger vented on the ground passed deep into her body and soul.”

===Part 5===

The scorching sun continued to light the sky from above as it was so hot it seemed like noises would be made. The sunlight, which should be appropriately called heat rays, shone on a burning hot desert that stretched to a distant horizon.

The temperature was 42 degrees Celsius, and the hot air that blew by combined with the sunlight to rob the dry and hot skin of any moisture it had left. At this point, the sun had risen directly above them, and it was hard to find anything that could be used as a shade. Suberoa Zinnerman continued to peel the skin that was dry because of the sunburn, and looked up at the sand dune right in front of his eyes. The bow of the ship glittered under the sunlight’s reflection, and one could see the “Garencieres” buried under the dune.

“Sure looks like it was buried deep. We’ll be able to hide from the eyes of the surveillance satellites, so I suppose you can say that it’s good in some way…”

Flaste Schole said this as he reached his hand out to the exterior of the ship, “HOT!” and immediately pulled back his hand. It had been 3 days since they went off their estimated course and landed in Western Sahara of Africa. The result of trying to make the ship land on its belly was that the “Garencieres” ended up sliding in the desert by several kilometers and was dived into the sand dunes. There were two sandstorms after this, and it was buried under the sand. The bow and a part of the broadside lying horizontally were the only parts exposed, while the rear hatch of the aft was buried under several tons of sand. There were 3 main thrusters, and one of them had its nozzle exposed from the dune, but it looked like a mere rock amongst the rocks scattered in the desert. It was very likely that nobody would notice a cargo spaceship buried in the desert unless they analyzed the satellite visuals intently.

Like the rockets that were launched into space, the “Garencieres” landed in a vertical manner under gravity. Once it flipped onto the floor, it was no different from a tortoise with its legs facing up, and had no chance of changing its position on its own, let alone leave the land and fly. Basically, there was no way to move away other than to move this large amount of sand that was piled up, and they only managed to dig out the airlocks through manual labor. It was really impossible to drag out the cargo hangar at the aft of the ship if they lacked the assistance of a large machine. The rear hatch at the belly of this triangular ship was already more than 20m long, and at this point, the sand could only end up piled on it in a slope.

''Besides, we’re surrounded in all corners.'' Zinnerman again understood the seriousness of the situation itself as he put the brim of the captain’s hat to eye level. Flaste looked over at the exterior of the broadside that was hot enough to cook an egg as he grumbled, “It’ll be great if the starboard can face up.”

“In that case, we’ll be able to use the unloading hatch on the side. We can’t do anything now that the hatch at the back is buried in sand. A mobile suit can get out if we shoot a beam from inside…”

“But the “Garencieres” will really meet its end. Let’s just treat it as a final resort.”

Zinnerman lifted his head as he drank the water inside the bottle, unwilling to talk about this topic again. The desert was not a suitable place for discussions, and the sweat that flowed out started to evaporate afterwards. The dust-like fine sand would enter all corners as long as there were openings. It would cause the machines to malfunction and wear people out physically and mentally—Flaste was extremely familiar with the terror and troubles it would bring as he once had to survive in Africa during the One Year War. As all the crew was hiding inside the tilted ship in this bright sunny day, Flaste exposed himself to this scorching weather, and he was definitely recalling his memories that time. ''There’s no time to hesitate now. We have to decide if we should go with our last resort.''

He could only see sand, sand and more sand around him. The Sahara Desert that occupied 40 percent of the African continent was 13 million square kilometers in total area, and the largest desert in the world. The average temperature here was above 30 degrees Celsius, and the annual rainfall was less than 200mm. if anyone were to take off their clothes because of the heat, they would be burned red immediately and incur contagious skin diseases. In late April, temperatures could rise to above 40 degrees Celsius, and this place would become an actual burning hell. However, this was a result of the abnormal weather conditions causing global warming to be accelerated after colonies were sent crashing to Earth, prompting the desertification of Earth. Despite all these, one thing that never changed since the old ages was that temperatures would drop drastically after sunset, and at night, there would be icy cold winds that could freeze people to death.

The cruelest thing about this was that this wide open place encouraged people to think that they could walk through a desert if they wanted to. A lot of desert victims were bothered by such mirages as they ended up moving around their point of accident, and finally ended up as dried up corpses in the wilderness. The dunes would move according to the winds, and the desert that would change the landscape as well was an overly cruel world where humans had to survive with their own power. While there was the advantage of not being spotted if they remained here, the chances of them being spotted by their allies would be marginally slim.

Thus, the desert became a hidden nest for Zeon remnants on Earth, and a few guerilla organizations set up base here to this day, but nobody knew how long it would take before they discovered the “Garencieres”. They did report beforehand when they passed through the atmosphere, but their estimated course was the Atlantic. It would probably be a few days later before they realized that the “Garencieres” went off course and landed in the desert several thousand kilometers away from the estimated point.

The forced landing caused the wireless satellite device to be faulty. The only thing left was the wireless communicator of the mobile suits in the ship, but the range couldn't exceed the horizon. The emergency distress call sender machine was still alright, but it was not practical to try it as they could not guess which side would detect the signal first, the enemies or the allies.

Since this ship had the key to opening the “Laplace Box”, the Federation army would logically search around the area with all its efforts. In contrast, the Zeon remnants who hardly had enough resources probably would not be able to afford a large search party. “It’s almost impossible to repair the wireless satellite device if we don’t swap the entire thing.” Flaste said as he gave a look firmly believing that there was no time to hesitate.

“It’s a good thing that we have ample water and food, but we can’t just stay here all the time. We’ll be detected by the enemy if we don’t contact our side. Tomura just said that he heard the sound of a plane flying above us.”

Flaste looked up at the thing layer of clouds floating in the air, and took a gulp of water. Once they finished their search in the Atlantic Ocean, quite a few surveillance satellites would turn to look at the desert. Zinnerman blew out air from his nose as he answered,

“Looking at the map, we’ll see an oasis if we move 60km to the east. There’s a town called Atal over there, and we should be able to contact with someone over there. We’ll reach there quickly if we ride on a mobile suit.”

“That’s true…”

“Kwani’s unit still needs repairs, but Ivan’s “Geara Zulu” can be used. Even if we have to blow the ship to scraps—”

“You forgot one other machine.”

Zinnerman spoke up to interrupt. ''Eh?'' Flaste blinked his eyes and immediately gave a recalling look, only to give a wry look as he answered, “We can’t possibly depend on the “Unicorn” here.”

“I let the maintenance crew inspect through, and they said that they can’t remove the pilot’s biometric authentication. The pilot’s like that as well…”

Flaste pointed his chin at the entry hatch that was approximately 50m away. One could see Banagher Links covered with a sunshade cloth behind the dune piled up at the door, curled up there. Banagher did not detect the stares from Flaste and company as his gloomy-looking face kept staring at the sandy ground of nothingness. It was really hard to determine that he was a living person if nobody said that he was alive, and he was the same as when he was dragged out of the “Unicorn Gundam” cockpit, not seeing anything in his eyes—

He looked like he was fatigued, a common symptom amongst recruits, but the medical officer said that it was not the case after inspection. His mind was overly fatigued, but his body was completely healthy, and he had no problems with his meals and other usual living conditions. However, he had no sense of will to live on by himself, and he would not ingest food if it was not prepared. If he was left alone, he would just sit around blankly for the entire day. It would be more appropriate to describe his symptoms as being very feeble instead of forcing himself not to live, and it was rather similar to those old-aged people that would give up easily. He made himself devoid of all sorts of concerns to seal his heart and soul, and he did not know that he was in a decline. This would be considered a subconscious self-neglect.

There were no effects no matter what they did, whether they tried to threaten him or please him; he would not resist, but he would not show any form of will on his own. He disappeared before they knew it, and would just spend the day spacing out. It had been more than 2 weeks since he was involved in the “Industrial 7” incident, and perhaps the stress that was built up within him during this period had finally reached its breaking point. However, the crew could only feel extremely irked that this brat, who was not even a prisoner, was just wandering around lifelessly even as they were forced to make a decision of life and death. Flaste looked like he felt the same as well as he added with a vexing line, “Such a bother.”

“Even if the “Laplace Program” shows a new coordinate, we can’t make the next move if the “Unicorn” can’t move. We can tie the brat in and let the other mobile suits move it, but the coordinates are a troublesome thing here.”

Flaste took out the paper with the new coordinates from his clutches as he continued to grumble, seemingly feeling that there was no point to look at it any further. Zinnerman did not raise any objections here. A seal of the “Laplace Program” was undone after the activation of the NT-D the last time, but the coordinates given this time felt like a joke. It was a place that nobody with a weak resolve could enter just like the last time, and in this sense, the hurdle here would not be something the relics of “Laplace” could match. Flaste folded the printed paper into a paper airplane, pinched it with his fingertips, “What’s that and what’s that, really?” and threw it away.

“We keep opening, and we see a new box inside it…are we being fooled by Cardeas Vist here?”

Despite only saying this as a joke, his eyes were filled with intense anger. ''Either way, there’s no way Gilboa and the other men who died could rest in peace if they did not find out the truth. Do we wait for aid that might not come here, or do we wreck the ship and find aid—'' Zinnerman felt that there was only one option here in his heart as he looked at the direction the paper plane Flaste threw floated to. The plane that did not ride on the wind lost speed after flying for less than 10m, and fell onto the burning hot sand.

===Part 6===

The fluttering sound of the paper amidst the sound of the wind moved the eardrums. Banagher Links lifted his head slightly as he looked over at where the sound came from.

It was a paper plane, half buried by the reddish brown sand. The plane got blown by the wind as its wings rustled, and gradually moved out of sight. Banagher had recently seen something similar, the paper plane Tikva once threw in the dusty town in “Palau”… ''no, it looked more like a glider.'' As he carelessly thought about that, a sharp shock passed through Banagher’s body, and he exerted more strength into his arms that were holding his legs in.

''You killed him. You killed Gilboa, Tikva’s father. He had no intention of attacking, and you simply shot him. Tikva’s pitiful for not having a father now. You and him have no fathers. You killed him, and you killed a lot a people—''these words passed through his mind in the form of this shock, ''You’re the seed of disaster,'' overlapping with the words Alberto said, and the body that was curled up in this scorching hot weather cooled off. The weather was so hot, and yet his body felt cold inside. His stomach felt tense, as if someone threw a lead block inside. ''What am I doing? Nobody needs me, even I don’t need myself, so why must I stay curled up here?''

The sunshade cloth was draped over his head, and he turned his eyes to the endless desert, but the blue sky that covered the faded land looked dark, perhaps because the sunlight was too bright, distorting his sight. ''Why is it that a light source from one point can light everything?'' Banagher, who grew up in colonies, looked up at the inexplicable sun, and then looked at the land of sand right on this unknown planet. ''We can just run through this desert,'' Banagher thought. ''The sunlight can burn the skin, blood my head, dry up all the fluids in my body, and I’ll just become dust. Even the lead in my stomach and this cursed family blood of mine will be burnt to nothing. If I can do that, the “Unicorn” will never move again, the “Gundam” won’t awaken again; I won’t have to kill others, I won’t be killed, and the “Laplace Box” will be sealed forever—''

''And then what?'' The abnormally cold voice interrupted to end the delusions. The impulse that rose in Banagher’s body quickly wilted as fatigue struck his mind. He found it difficult to think, curled back his body without doing anything and became a stone block like before. ''This place is really the bottom of a gravity well,'' Banagher admitted. His body and mind were tied to the bottom, so heavy that they were unable to move at all. Space felt so distant, and his soul was the only thing melting from his crouched body that was like dust. ''This is a one and only cog that can make decisions on its own. Don’t lose it—Mr Daguza did say it. I don’t want to lose it, I lost it unwillingly, but I really can’t hang on now. If I try to put it on, my body will break apart. I just want to sit here without thinking and without asking for anything. I’ll keep sitting until my heart melts completely…''

A shadow crept up to him, and his sights became dark. The ends of the boots that were dirtied by sand appeared in a corner of Banagher’s eyes, and he moved his blank eyeballs.

Zinnerman was standing there. His hulking figure was standing there angrily “Stand up.” as he growled with a deep voice. Banagher immediately lost interest in the person who arrived, and immediately lowered his sight.

“There’s a town 60km away. I’m going to walk there and get help, and you’re coming with me.”

''Are you kidding me?'' a slight electrical flow passed through Banagher’s mind as he lifted his eyes again. He saw the bearded face that was not smiling, and lazily looked down again. At this moment, Zinnerman’s hand grabbed him by the torso, and the body, which had its center of gravity at the back, was immediately dragged off the floor.

“How long are you going to mope around here!?” The angry words roared into Banagher’s ears as the sand fell from his limp swaying body. His feet would not listen as his body was supported by hand grabbing him by the chest. However, Zinnerman’s hand that was holding this weight showed no signs of shaking at all.

“We’ll leave after sunset. Get into the ship immediately. We need to prepare a lot of things if we want to pass through the desert.”

Banagher was suddenly pushed down as he landed on his backside. The feeling of the unexpectedly hard sand rocked his mind, ''why?'' and he wanted to say this, but the voice was stuck in his throat as he was unable to speak up. “Ah?” he avoided Zinnerman’s intimidating stare as he squeezed out a hoarse voice, “Why look for me?”

“Because you look like you’re the most idle.”

“That’s too reckless. How are we to walk across the desert?”

“I once served in Africa during the wars, so I more or less know about the desert. It can work.”

“Hey, get up.” Zinnerman said that as he grabbed Banagher by the chest. Banagher felt the sharp pain from the cramped muscles and wanted to cry out as he only cared about looking back, saying, “Please stop…!”

“Let me alone. I had enough. I don’t want to be involved with anyone else. I don’t want to be made use of.”

“Fat hope. Fulfill your duty as a pilot.”

“Duty? I did my duty. I rode on the mobile suit and sank a Neo Zeon terrorist. Is that not enough? How many more much I kill?”

Only this time did Banagher look right at Zinnerman in the eyes and spoke directly to him. ''What duty and responsibility? It ended up like this after I listened to those words.'' As he thought about how he would not be fooled again and intended to stand on his feet, a blunt sound rang in his mind as his world exploded.

The body that was punched aside landed hard onto the floor, and the burning hot taste of sand spread in his mouth. The face that was buried in the sand started to ache, and Banagher’s body was trembling as he heard Zinnerman say, “You can deny us all you want.”

“But don’t you dare think of yourself as a victim and throw a tantrum at me. I can still recognize it if the one that shot down Gilboa is a pilot, but not a brat who doesn’t have any resolve.”

The words became a needle that was thrown, and the hands that were resting on the sand were trembling, but it was unable to remove the feeling of being punched. The lead in Banagher’s stomach was burning, and he forcefully spat the sand that became dirt in his mind “I didn’t do this on my own will…” he muttered as he wiped away the blood on the corner of his mouth.

“Someone else forced me to ride on a mobile suit, and things ended up like this before I even knew what happened. If you’re not going to forgive me, just kill me. Don’t beat around the bush and talk about something like duty; can’t you just harden your heart and kill me…!?”

Zinnerman’s hard fist was still clenched as he answered with his trembling eyelids. ''See, this man talks big, but he’s no different from those guys who want the “Box”.'' Banagher said, “You don’t dare to do so anyway.” Banagher said with his busted lips that were curled up.

“If I die, the “Unicorn” won’t move. If you can’t extract the data of the “Box”, you’ll just let this treasure rot. No matter how you hate me, it’s impossible for you to kill—”

The second impact struck his face, and his body that was sent flying away hit the dune behind. He felt a numbing feeling in his skullcap, “those big shots may think that way, but we’re different”, Zinnerman growled, and Banagher stared at his bearded face.

“It doesn’t matter what happens to the “Box”. My ship doesn’t have the room to feed someone like you who has no will to live.”

The burly figure became a shadow as it moved towards Banagher, blocking his sights. The eyes of a killer were glittering somehow deep within, just like the first time, and Banagher clenched his hands together with the sand.

Banagher stared at the two black eyeballs that were not showing any light, and exerted strength to stiffen his trembling knees. He tried his best to let his trembling body stand up, and glared at Zinnerman with all his strength. ''Do it if you can. I’ll spit my blood on you once I’m beaten down.'' As he was driven by this unknown temper, his swaying body was about to straighten, and Zinnerman showed some teeth on his ominous looking face.

Before he could understand that it was a smile, he was gently nudged back and landed on his backside. “What kind of expression is that?” Zinnerman gave a wry look, and this was an unexpected response to Banagher as he looked back.

“Someone who can give that kind of expression will not collapse that easily. Hurry up and get ready. The desert won’t listen to any excuses humans make.”

Zinnerman finished and walked away. ''Are you serious?'' Banagher wanted to open his mouth and ask, but was unable to let out a sound as his wildly pounding heart spread the feeling of this fear that came a moment later. His body that was unneeded by anyone and self-neglected continued to give the sound of life stubbornly— “Damn it!” Banagher groaned as he kicked the sand at his feet. The blood that rushed up his body caused him to recall the heat, and the large amount of sweat that suddenly started to flow out evaporated before they dripped.

===Part 7===

The sun that was radiating the bright white light was dyed red, half-hidden behind the dunes, and the surrounding temperature stared to feel. This was the so-called radiation cooling effect at work. As there was almost no moisture in the air, the temperature could not remain certain, and there were temperature differences of around 30 degrees Celsius between both day and night. It was hard to imagine from the scorching heat in the day, but it was not uncommon to freeze to death in the desert.

The scorching heat and harsh coldness repeated itself through day and night, and this climate reminded Banagher of the moon. It would be more appropriate to assume this as a barometric pressure suited for survival, a place without the blessing of the atmosphere. Banagher zipped up his jumper and put the cloth acting as a hood around his neck, and looked around at the endless number of sand dunes that appeared around him. He heard the sound of wind and sand blowing by, and there was nothing moving. As he waited for the stars to blink, the surroundings would probably be so silent that one would believe that this was the moon.

''Is he really going to cross such a place?'' Banagher knelt down at where he was, and checked whether the gaiters were secured at the bottom of his jeans as he observed the group of people gathered at the airlock. The area was surrounded by dusk, and light shone from the airlock showing the backs of Flaste and the other crew members. He could see their anxious expressions, and Zinnerman was right in the middle of that group, still intending to wear the old leather jacket and the captain hat. “This map is made by the guerillas, and we can rely on them.” His voice sounded extremely loud in the wind.

“We’ll try to move quickly at night only. As long as there’s moonlight, we’ll be able to see 5, 600m around us. It’s bad that we don’t have a GPS for desert use, but we’ll be able to see the stars clearly, and if we use a compass as well, we’ll find a way.”

The Captain pretended to sound relaxed as he laid out the map, while Flaste and the rest gave obviously suspicious looks. ''He’s not kidding now, is he?'' Banagher too gave a suspicious look as he managed to prevent himself from talking. He obeyed Zinnerman’s words and started to check on the luggage in his backpack. It included rations, sleeping bags, flashlights, warm clothing, anti UV lip cream, scarves, sunshade clothes, a first aid kit with pesticide, and most importantly, water—and this was heavy. There was four days worth of water, 5 liters a day, and the backpack weight almost 30kg. If they wanted to cross the desert, this weight itself would be an indicator of life…

“The distance to Atal is approximately 63km. if we move quickly by night, we’ll reach there in the morning 4 days later as long as nothing goes wrong. Once we contact our allies there, I estimate that we’ll be able to send a rescue squad here on the fifth morning. I suppose the guerilla forces of Adrar and Tirith Zemul will take action.”

“I don’t think this is really a good idea…”

Flaste spoke up in place of the anxious crew. Everyone present felt that it was better to let a mobile suit punch through the belly of the shape than to make such a risk, but Zinnerman superficially answered everyone’s doubts as he put on his backpack. “Take command while I’m not around.” He told Flaste and left the crew.

“If there’s still no news after 5 days, blow up the ship however you want. Bring the mobile suits out to contact our allies…let’s move out, brat.”

Flaste and the rest of the crew were attracted by Zinnerman’s stare as they looked over at Banagher. Without anyone saying anything, the biggest reason why they were against having Zinnerman cross the desert was because of the person accompanying him. Banagher endured the suspicious stars as he carried the backpack, thinking, ''Who cares about you guys. If you have any objections, go talk to your Captain.'' The weight that pressed down heavily on his back caused him to miss his footing, and he frantically regained his balance as he pretended to look calm while walking over to Zinnerman.

“I’m going then. Help us pray that there won’t be any sandstorms.”

Zinnerman waved goodbye at everyone as he started to trek off. Flaste watched his Captain leave with a reluctant look, and then shot a meaningful look at Banagher. ''You better prepare yourself there—''Banagher felt a chill from this cold stare, but he immediately focused on looking to the front at this desert trip the two of them would embark on. He turned his back on the setting sun that was like a ripened fruit and climbed up the gradually sloping surface to the other dune. ''Let’s go then.'' As he harbored this thought, his foot got stuck in the sand, and he ended up falling forward so soon after he embarked on this trip.

===Part 8===

On the same day, April 21st, it was US Central Standard time, 1pm.

Augusta was raining, and the rain that was colder than rain in spring was scattering down from the dark clouds above, causing the idling walkway to be dyed a light grey color. Alberto Vist spent his time waiting as he leaned his back against the medium-sized airport control tower, looking up at the clouds that were hovering at a low place as he heard the sound of raindrops dropping on the umbrella. Soon after, a black spot appeared in the sky, and the roaring of a jet engine could be heard mixed amidst the rain. At that moment, the silhouette of a shuttle was gradually looming.

The belly of the shuttle, which was filled with anti-heat materials, lowered its undercarriage and landed on the runway lit with beacon lights. The friction on the wheels caused the rainwater to steam off, and the machine gradually slowed down as the thrust reverser boomed loudly. There were no signs of any other machines in this Augusta Research facility that also functioned as a mobile suit experimental place. Alberto waited for the taxiing shuttle to reach its apron as he got on the electric car his subordinate was driving on. The passenger step moved along at the same time as it started to move to the apron.

This shuttle that reached Augusta was a miniature one that moved to and fro from Earth, one belonging to Anaheim Electronics, and there was an “AE” logo printed on the side of the machine. It was a company shuttle used by those in the corporate-class in emergency situations, but not a lot of people would ride a private shuttle to Earth and to the Moon. The step car brought the ladder to the airlock of the shuttle, and Alberto got off the electric car, waiting patiently on this runway that was drenched in rainwater. After that, the airflow let out what sounded like a deep sigh as it opened, and a cabin crewman who got of the shuttle beforehand was holding the umbrella at the door.

A short woman dressed in a wine red suit walked down the steps. The 1G gravity caused her to tumble, but she did not grab onto the crewman’s hand as she corrected her posture. She looked down the wide runway from the top of the steps, and upon noticing Alberto’s stare immediately, narrowed her eyes.

[[Image:KSGU6 055.png|thumb]]

The woman was already over the age of 50, but she showed no hesitation over how to live like a woman. This woman was the wife of Anaheim Electronics’ chairman, and also, the stand-in leader of the Vist Foundation. Alberto succumbed under the usual stare of Martha Vist Carbine and gulped. Martha let her loose lips remain shut, looked up at the grey sky, received an umbrella from the crewman, and started to walk down the stairs.

“The rain’s annoying.”

Despite the fact that engines of the shuttle were still running, he could tell that she said that her lips said those words from their shape. Alberto bowed respectfully as he got ready to welcome the Empress of the Moon.

===Part 9===

They were in Augusta, located in Northern America, Georgia, near the Clarks Hill Lake on the border between South Carolina and Georgia. The local Newtype research facility called the Augusta Newtype Research Institute was located beside the lake, a vast place that used to be a mobile suit experimental center.

However, the term Newtype Research Institute was taken down, and it had been a long time since the military facilities here were taken down. The land was registered under the Federation air force, but the airport in the facility was never used as an air base. On first glance, the similarly shaped empty buildings were all abandoned here. Alberto walked on his feet that ushered Martha beforehand towards the largest building called the A block. There were 6 levels in this building that was 50m in length all around, and it looked as gloomy as an abandoned hospital under the cloudy sky, awaiting Alberto and Martha who came out from the electric car.

“Just a few more amendments to the process before unit 2’s testing under gravity conditions is complete. We used the combat data from unit 1 as feedback, so there’s a mass improvement in space mobility as compared to the beginning.”

The lobby felt very cold without the air-conditioning. Alberto followed Martha, who did not look behind as she walked, and reported the situation during the past two days.

“Captain Macias of the Senate Council came to inspect yesterday. We merely let the test pilot carry out some demonstrations, but he seemed to be satisfied. He indicated that the UC plan must not be left out of this space forces realignment plan…”

At this point, Alberto suddenly went quiet as he stopped in his tracks, as he sensed someone moving at the corner leading to the elevator hall.

At a corner of the passage that was somewhat dim because of energy conservation, there was a black shadow popping out from a corner. That shadow moved lightly, forming the shape of a human, and became a shadow of a 4, 5 year old child as it stared right back from the corner. Those familiar eyes looked like they were about to be etched in Alberto’s eyes, and he could not help but look away. ''Haven’t you had enough already?'' Alberto thought as he widened his tense eyes with fear. The child who looked eerily similar to Banagher Links suddenly disappeared, and the shadow of the foliage plant placed at the corner was dragged along the floor.

He exhaled hard and moved his feet that stopped. Martha, who stopped as well, gave him a scrutinizing look. Alberto then coughed to try and hide things through and continued his report without looking at her,

“The Settlement Issues Council seemed to be on the move as well, but the High Staff Committee do support the Foundation. As the stand-in leader estimated, once we can complete the deal using unit 2—”

“You’re still concerned about that?”

Martha again stepped forward as she spoke up to interrupt Alberto. He did not understand what she meant as she looked at the figure in front that never looked back.

“You’re still concerned about that? Alberto?”

The sharp scrutinizing voice rang ago, and a stare that looked like it could see through everything shot over. Alberto felt a shudder on his shoulders as he took this cold stare that overlooked the shoulders “…No.” he answered as he lowered his head. “That’s good.” Martha said as she looked in front.

“It was unexpected of the “Sleeves” to come and take the “Unicorn” away, but it was a wise decision to abandon the machine. You were correct in choosing not to take it back, but to destroy it.”

The white machine fell into the scorching abyss as the traction wire was snapped—he recalled that scene and asked himself whether it was the correct decision. At that time, he merely had the impulse of wanted to get rid of the “Unicorn” from his eyes, and he did not remember making a sane decision. That was because he was scared, and he hated the eyes of the “Unicorn” pilot that were the same as Cardeas—Banagher Links, who was protected by the machine Cardeas put so much effort in making, and who appeared several times in front of him. Those eyes that could overlap his own when he looked into the mirror looked like they would reveal the sins he committed over and over again…

“Don’t think about that again. Biologically, both you and he are blood-related brothers, but we are all humans. We have more important priorities to protect than blood relations, and you, as the heir of the Vist family, completed the responsibility you’re tasked with.”

Martha continued to speak softly, and it was unclear if she actually understood his heart. ''A responsibility to take down every single relative, including father and brother?'' in fact, Alberto felt that he was cursed, and he softly answered, “Yes.”

“Besides, it is likely that he’s still alive, so you will probably face him again. You two may be blood relatives, but you must not let someone who’s not on your side to handle the key to the “Box”. You do understand, right?”

She looked back and gave a stare, indicating that he must not fail the next time around. Alberto did not have the confidence to answer her calmly as he hurried his steps to move past Martha. He turned around the corner, walked for another 20m, and arrived at the metal door at the end of the corridor. He then took out the ID card and swiped it at the card reader.

The light indicating that the door was unlocked lit up, and the thick and heavy metal doors opened aside. They stepped through the door, and there was a bright space with air-conditioning inside. There were several sealed windows on the walls of this passage, and several white-clothed workers could be seen standing there, working. The Augusta Research Institute was announced to be closed off, and this was the area that could not be exposed to the public. Martha showed no signs of fear on her face as she advanced forward, and stepped into this highly fortified area that had much of the facility’s security.

It was unknown where the antiseptic smell came from. There were no energy-saving implements within the facility, yet it felt very dark inside, probably because there used to be experiments ignoring human ethics carried out here. It was said that the Newtype Research Institute acted under the name of a military research facility as they carried out surgical and medicinal procedures on war orphans that were helpless, creating a large number of vegetables, and was ordered to be shut down as a result. The old facilities and researchers still remained here however, only because this was an official military institute. Of course, this being a facility for the air force would not be enough reason to give it budget to carry on operating. The difference between the budget the military gave and the expenses paid for operations was provided by Anaheim through multiple 3rd party sectors.

It had been two days since he reached this place, but he really could not bring himself to like this place. He even felt a false hallucination, that someone was watching him, and when looking back, he could hear the footsteps of several children running away. There were also rumors of many ghosts, like a boy wearing a blood-stained surgical gown or the brain juices of a girl spilling out from the skullcap that had its scalp removed. There were some amongst his accompanying subordinates who would even state openly that they heard the laughter of children as well. ''Those useless hallucinations I saw are definitely due to the messages left inside my mind.'' Alberto saw the ominous shadows stuck on the wall, and started to feel a chill. He then recognized the white-clothed man in front of him and stopped in his tracks.

“I’m the facility chairman Bentner. Excuse me for being unable to welcome you directly.”

Bentner said this as he reached his hand forward, and he sure did fit the image of a head of a human laboratory. His arched back, bald head and frail body that was covered with a white coat could be said to be the incarnate of a mad scientist, and as ominous as a prison warden in the Middle Ages. “Hello.” Martha answered coldly without changing her expression, and used her hand to raise her hair. Bentner’s outstretched hand had nowhere to go as it returned back, and his face that looked to be around 60 showed the smile of a slave bowing humbly.

“You must be tired after such a long trip. How about—”

“It’s rare for me to come by here, but I do treasure my important time. Can you please tell me the current progress?”

Martha’s style was to look down on those servile to her and tell them to do whatever they could do as they could. Alberto nodded silently at Bentner who gave a doubtful glance. In the past, the Federation army intended to cover everything up in and eliminate all the researchers, thinking that they could shake themselves off their misfortune. However, Bentner, who was somehow able to fight against it and protect his own position, was definitely not just a bookworm. “Excuse me, please come here.” He quickly understood that the chairwoman did not come here for leisure, kept his smile, and walked first, showing his own adaptability.

“I should say that this is really to be expected of a Cyber-Newtype. Her recovery ability is really shocking, and she is basically no different from a healthy person. It is possible for her to pilot a mobile suit in another 3 days.”

Bentner pressed on the nearest elevator button as he explained. Martha merely looked at the level display as she did not bother to answer.

“She’s the perfect pilot for the “Banshee”, and to us, a very rare test subject, so every member here is motivated. But despite the backing from Anaheim, it is hard to acquire specimens after we lost the support of the military. But asking us to continue the research is a little too…”

“What problems does she have?”

Martha spoke up to interrupt and walked in first after the elevator reached. Bentner showed a shocked look as he was taken aback by the other party, and immediately followed her, saying, “The problem is that her she is the designed genetic plan-type.” as he closed the elevator doors.

“If it is a Cyber-Newtype that went through acquired adjustments, it won’t be difficult to adjust her again. With the help of the drugs, we can remove the memories in spurts without reducing their abilities. But someone with a designed genetic plan itself is different. She’s different from those with acquired adjustments, so she doesn’t use drugs that create rejection, and her reaction to psychotropic drugs will be no different from ordinary humans. To make it clearly, she’s not used to having her brain adjusted. If we force her to submit, we might break her sense of identity and make her worthless.”

The elevator reached the highest level, the 6th floor, and it seemed that the wind was blowing outside. Alberto heard the thunderclap from afar and arrived on the pathway where armed guards were on standby. There were metal gates on both sides of this passage, and this place felt more like an asylum for those severely mentally ill instead of a prison.

“So to simply put, it’s a problem with the heart. She has her own soul that’s unwilling to undergo readjustments again, right?”

Martha did not change her expression as she walked in front. ''She,'' Alberto was shocked inside by the term she used and stopped in front of the door with the number ‘12’ on it. “Well, stating it like that is…” Bentner spoke halfway through, but Martha looked inside the cell without hesitation, seemingly wanting him to back off.

A bed and a window framed with metal bars could be seen in this square room 5m wide. The silhouette sitting on the bed appeared for a moment as the lightning that struck from afar lit inside, and Alberto, who was looking inside this dark room from behind Martha’s head, gulped as he saw that face that looked much younger than he thought. ''Did she look that frail before? She felt more muscular at that moment when she immediately used her body to protect me while the assassin attacked the “Nahel Argama”.'' As Alberto experienced some sort of pain caused by conflicting emotions, “Interesting” he heard Martha state this in a nonchalantly cold manner, and looked at her with a terrified expression.

“I want to talk to her.”

Martha did not look away from the other side of the metal bars as her lips showed a smile. Alberto felt Bentner behind him gulp, and looked back at the “specimen” inside the room.

Marida Cruz did not mind the stares from outside the fence as her puppet-like face did not move, looking outside the window. However, those eyes that were lit by the lightning flash seemed to show some vigor of life as she faced the outside world. On seeing this, Alberto experienced complicated emotions in his heart for a second time.

===Part 10===

The dunes that were blown by the winds would change their forms from time to time, revealing the beauty of a woman’s body. The gradual ridges depicted the surface of a plump waist, and an observer would not help but think that it might feel as soft as a human body.

But in fact, these stretches of gradual sand dunes were the obstacles stumbling the feet of travelers. For every step they took, the sand pile would collapse, and the little amount of physical strength would dissipate bit by it. They had not completed even one-third of the journey on the second night of the trip. Banagher gritted his teeth, trying his best to follow Zinnerman who was walking 10m in front of him. The dry air of the night blew aside his sweat, causing his skin to tense up due to the cold. The temperature was around 10 degrees Celsius, and if there were wind, the temperature the body would feel should be blown this.

He had already drank one day’s worth of water, and logically, the bag should have become lighter, but he found it heavier than yesterday because he did not sleep well in the day. Whenever his consciousness was about to fade, a large number of flies would fly from out of nowhere, and the fluttering of the wings would prevent him from sleeping. The sunlight would shine in through his eyelids, unwilling to fade. The rest time would then end just when he was about to enter dreamland, and he would begin his trek again when the sun sets. The fatigue accumulated on the previous day was still on him, and he could not muster his appetite as he continued to walk and drag his lethargic body.

What about Zinnerman? Banagher pursued the figure that disappeared behind the ridge and finally stepped on the top. After seeing the scenery laid out in front of him, he was speechless.

After walking down the slope, he would have to go uphill again, and there was another dune on the other side of the dune. There was a ridge of dunes that littered the landscape, and the large ones could reach 100m tall, while the wide ones could reach several kilometers. The gradation presented by nature was so intricate it was shocking. There did not seem to be any room for humans senses to be involved with, and the overly intricate scene caused him to feel like vomiting. Zinnerman left behind footprints as he walked down the slope, looking like a speck of dust destroying these layers.

''Is this nature? Was humanity born from this merciless beauty? Did they carve out thousands of years of history like this?'' Banagher’s mind and soul that grew up in the large cylinders called colonies were shocked, and he remained rooted to the ground.

The dunes lit under the moonlight did not have any color, and the white gradients of the ridge drew a clear divide with the pitch darkness of night as the single toned world of desolation stretched down the endless horizon. ''This is impossible. Anyone who wants to cross this place must be out of their mind.'' Banagher yelled in his heart as his unwittingly retreated, and as he stepped backwards, the sand at his feet immediately collapsed, and his body was dragged down by the sand dune below. He landed on his backside, and tumbled back due to the weight of the haversack on his back, and rolled down the dune without being able to adjust himself.

His sights started to spin wildly, and the powder-shaped sand entered his nose and eyes. He let his shoulders and stomach hit the sand as he rolled down the slope like a broken puppet, before his body finally managed to stop rolling. He wanted to spit out the sand in his mouth, but he could not secrete any saliva, and he had no strength to sprout his body that was filled with sand as he could only hear the sound of footsteps approaching as they stepped on the sand. Banagher moved his fingers that laid feebly on the sand and tried to open his eyes, seeing the tip of Zinnerman’s boots in his blurry sights.

He felt his arm being pulled by the other man, and his upper body that was sprawled on the floor was dragged up completely. His legs moved on their own, trying to stand up straight, but was unable to do so even with this momentum. He bent his knees that could not exert strength, and collapsed under the weight of the haversack again before sprawling on the floor. Zinnerman too tumbled on the sandy ground and gave an exasperated look as he stared at this ridiculous scene, muttering, “You idiot, you didn’t drink, did you?”

“Didn’t I tell you to drink regularly even if you’re not thirsty?”

Banagher’s face was dragged up, and the opening of the bottle was brought right to his lips. The water that was taken in instinctively entered his windpipe, causing him to choke hard. He bent down, used his remaining strength to cough, and his face hit the sandy ground that was thoroughly cold. “Oi, pull yourself through.” Zinnerman said, but Banagher pushed aside his arm, curled up his body that was having difficulty in breathing, ''Leave me alone.'' and his dry lips mouthed out the words,

“Just leave me alone…please let me stay here.”

Banagher let out a hoarse voice from his throat that felt like it was stuck. After a short moment of silence, “Don’t say such sorry things.” Zinnerman answered, but his voice felt so distant.

“Even if I walk along with you, I’ll just drag you down. Please move first, I’ll try to find a way…”

“What nonsense are you spouting? What can you do alone when you can’t even read the constellations? You’ll just move around in the same direction and get dried up to death in the wild.”

“That’s fine too…you pulled me out here for this aim, right?”

“Huh?”

“You want to let me dry out to death in the desert…so just kill me…”

Banagher sensed that the bearded face was raising his eyelids, taking a deep sigh through his nose. “Really, I didn’t expect you to have such thoughts when you came along with me.” Zinnerman said this with a wry look as he dusted off the sand on his buttocks and stood up.

“Just like I said, this stretch is the toughest area. It’ll take a week for us to make a detour, so that means we can only move through this stretch. Once we can do so, it’s all flatland there on. It’s just a little longer, hang in there.”

''Hang in there.'' These words entered Banagher’s heart, causing him to feel a burning sense of negativity. ''Why must I be the one hanging in here? What right do I have?'' He grabbed the sand and looked back at Zinnerman’s eyes that were looking down at him and moved his throat, “I am…!” that was about to be blocked.

“I rode on a mobile suit, killed people, and now I’m desperately trying to walk in this desert. How much more do you want me to work hard? What exactly do you hope that I do…!? Everyone’s just caring about themselves, forcing others into despair…that’s too irresponsible…”

''Do what you feel you have to do, fulfill your responsibility.'' The words Cardeas and Daguza said echoed in his empty body dampening his sights. ''Even if I worked hard here, I can’t save anyone. No one will end up being saved, and nobody will save me. I don’t want to do anything, and I know that no matter what I do, everything will all be wasted. It’s just like what my ‘older brother’ said, I’m a seed of disaster bringing misfortune to others.''

''I’m bothered even when people placed their expectations on me. I have nothing to repay you. I just feel “disjointed” from the world as I lived in a corner of an artificial colony. If there’s a chance to return to such a lifestyle, I really want to return. I want to return to the moments where I didn’t have to kill anyone, not get cursed by my own bloodline, and live my life with the vague gentleness. If only I never rode on the “Unicorn”. If only I never met Audrey—'' the water droplets that flowed down his face landed on the floor, and he grabbed the sand in his hands tightly as he heard the sound of these water droplets dripping into the dry ground. Zinnerman snorted out air as he patted the captain’s hat that was covered in sand, saying with a spurning tone, “What are you hoping from an outsider unrelated to you?”

“It’s already tough for those who want to live normal lives to take care of you, let alone at this moment of life and death. Even if they’re just saying that they care, you should be grateful that someone’s willing to talk to you.”

To Banagher, these words were unexpected. He felt the lead in his stomach twirling and saw Zinnerman’s face in his sights. At this point, he saw that the two eyes looking down at him were giving off a glint of light that was stronger than the night sky.

“Even if you complain to me like that, your expression isn’t showing any signs of dying off. You still have the strength to fight. It’s because I felt that you can stand on your own that I brought you along. No matter how painful it is, if you’re a man, you should answer back to other people’s expectations, raise your chest and endure until the moment you die.”

Zinnerman carried his haversack again and stepped forward without waiting for a reply. Banagher supported his upper body almost instinctively, “Fight…what do you want me to fight with?” and asked. “Think about it.” the back profile that answered this had already left Banagher halfway out of its mind.

“A man’s life is a battle until death.”

He added these words that came flowing over with the wind hit the ears and went off. Banagher raised his knees forward and brought his upper body forward as he stood on the sandy ground shakily. He stepped forward to the back profile that was leaving him, not know exactly why he had to do this. ''I’m an idiot.'' His body that realized this sufficiently stepped on the endless stretch of gradients.

He walked on the ground that would collapse whenever he stepped, climbed uphill step by step, went down again, and would then move along a towering ridge to the next dune. He did not want to lose to that back profile, and he wanted to catch up to the man; Banagher’s thoughts became his pillar of support as he continued to chase silently. The moonlight was covered by the dune behind him, and the starry light caused the dunes hidden in the darkness to appear. Nothing was moving except for the two shadows that were some distance away from each other, moving forward as they left small trails on the sand dunes. This was a world where nothing could be heard other than the sound of wind and their own breathing. It seemed that all of humanity had died off as both of them were the only ones left in the world, absolute silence surrounding them…

Zinnerman did not look back as he continued on in regular steps. Banagher let his body that was carrying the bag lean forward as he moved his own feet silently. ''What’s with that guy?'' He could not see any clear goal from him like Cardeas, and he was not a by-the-book soldier like Daguza. Zinnerman was different from Frontal in that he did give off a human-like vibe, but there was some attraction from his back that caused Banagher to be dragged along for some reason. Even without looking back, he could grasp Banagher’s current situation. If Banagher fell, he would return to pick him up. While he gave a mysterious sense of relief, there was some obstinate feeling from him, and he did not allow others to enter his own heart. in the end, that figure that he could not get close to remained right in front of him, even though he would not leave—

''“I met the Captain at the Federation’s detention barrack. At that time, I was part of the Youth Service Squad, a group of brats that would listen to the orders from anyone else in the base. Same goes for Gilboa. We’re all stripped naked and had our butts inspected, and we can be said to be a band of brothers on the same boat of disaster.”''

The words Banagher heard from Flaste before he left echoed in his mind, and he looked at the sand that landed at his feet. During the One Year War, Zinnerman and company took part in an attack on Earth, and fought until the bitter end in Africa before being captured by the Federation. They then awaited the end of the war in the detention cells, not knowing how the war in space ended, and nobody told them what happened to their hometown.

''“To the Federation, we’re just demons who sent a colony crashing to Earth. The treatment we had at the detention barracks was way different from what was in the agreement, but it didn’t matter. Even if we were brats back then, we’re all soldiers. As long as we ate the food the army gave us, we had to bear the name of the country no matter where we went. What I could not forgive was that the Federation pointed their guns at our relatives left in our hometown.”''

''“After the war ended, the Principality of Zeon was forced to disband and restart as a republic. However, a change in name alone can’t possibly erase all hatred that was culminated since the past. To the occupying army on the republic, Zeon was Zeon. They could not end all grudges just because the war ended, because too many people died in it. While the big-shots were negotiating for peace, the occupying forces had been building up their unhappiness. And there was an increase in voices by the day, like whether they could forgive the Zeon monsters, like whether they should raze the Zeon colonies to the ground like how we suffered, until it reached a point where it was not surprising to have any riots. Kill off all these inhumane Zeons, go to Zeon if you want to snatch women. Those people grew up hearing these words during the war, and some of their brothers died in Zeon’s hands. Sacrifices were needed to vent their frustrations. They needed something to vent their anger and hatred and slice it up for the public to see…the place they chose was the town the Captain’s home was.”''

The name of the town that was chosen was called Globe. That night, there was a curfew enforced on it, and all the residents were forbidden from moving out. As everyone held their breaths and hid inside, the occupying force encircled the place and charged into the town under the preface of suppressing riots. The soldiers who went out were about to return back, so there were old people, women and children left inside the town.

The soldiers that were manipulated by the higher-ups in a subtle manner were beasts hungry for blood. During the night, they opened every single household door and did whatever they wanted. To them, it did not matter whether it was an adult or a child. The men were tortured to death, the private parts of the women were violated, and the children that were shrieking and crying were shot down, unable to cry. Armed soldiers surrounded the town, and nobody could reach their hand for support. The police and the media could only remain silent at this ‘venting of frustration’ both the occupying army and the Republic’s government allowed.

There was no consensus on Globe being the sacrifice in the first place, but the fact remained that when the colony was thrown down to Earth, the footage of when Zeon celebrating and applauding their victory was spread throughout the world, and the residents of Globe were caught on television. The sight of the residents of Zeon smiling as they trampled on billions of corpses, immersed in a celebratory atmosphere—probably caused the Federation people watching this live telecast to gather their hatred and anger on the town of Globe that just happened to be on television. Either way, there was none of the terms ‘logic’ and ‘rationality’ in the soldiers’ minds when they ravaged the entire town, and their savage behavior after this violence easily broke down the lives of the people that built this town. They were mocked, trampled, and robbed of all their pride. More than thousands of people suffered the most cruel deaths in the world.

Those who died early were fortunate. If there were children watching their mothers being raped, the reverse could have happened in the future. No one could remain sane after such a cruel night. The festival of madness lasted until morning, leaving only counting corpses. Burnt scenes floated out from the houses that caught fire, and the stench of corpses and pee were mixed inside, remaining inside the colony for countless days. Just like how the Zeon army introduced poison gas into a colony, the town became a complete wasteland. No, it was not even a wasteland, but a used ‘public toilet’ for the Federation army to vent their frustrations, an exhibition of the cruelty humanity could show.

The Federation explained to the public that the tragedy of Globe happened because the residents rioted as the military was oppressing the resistance, and they had to suppress them with military force. The Republic government and the media accepted this saying and both the occupying army and the republic government had a common understanding as they accepted this, that they should permit such behavior if that kind of sacrifice could allow them to calm down. Either way, the truth was as clear as daylight even without explaining. Zinnerman and company returned back to Zeon after an exchange of prisoners, and immediately understood what happened after seeing his own hometown ravaged to the ground. They hated the Federation, hated the Republic government that became a mere puppet, and more than anything, hated themselves for being unable to protect their families.

They cursed themselves for being weak, and whenever they thought about the suffering they suffered before their deaths, their frustrations would cause them to blame themselves, until they went mad for days. To these people who lost their hometown in all sorts of ways, the only choice left for them was to fight on. “Axis”, in the distant asteroid belt, took in the recently born Mineva Zabi, and this place became the hiding place for Zinnerman and company for years. After “Axis” returned to the Earth celestial sphere, they called themselves Neo Zeon and started from there, investing themselves in the two Neo Zeon Wars. There was no such thing as ceasefire, and they continued to start wars all to accept that they were still alive.

''“Even till now, I wonder what will happen to me if the opposite was true. In a war, anyone will go insane. It’s not rare to see photos of people smiling and showing V-handsigns even after seeing the corpses of enemy soldiers piled up one after another…but the people from the Federation are humans, and we’re humans. Some things can’t be forgiven no matter what people say. If anyone heard that the tragedy of Globe was filmed and still circulated in the black market, I’ll want to send another colony down.”''

''“Do you understand? Our wives and kids became toys covered with blood, and that image is filmed up and still circulated around somewhere in the world. Some sickos even feel excited by seeing that. We couldn’t save them even if we heard the screams from that time. It’s impossible for time to be reversed. Can you imagine that kind of regret, that bitterness that’s much worse than us being chopped up to pieces?”''

This was not a question that could be answered immediately. Banagher merely lowered his head and avoided Flaste’s bloodshot eyes.

''“We, who were given a new lease of life to act as bodyguards for the princess, spent our efforts finding the scumbag dealer who circulated the video. We discovered Marida when we were checking on the routes those bloody perverts used. As for Marida…well, I suppose I shouldn’t mention. Anyway, we didn’t do this out of fun.”''

''“Zeon did launch a colony down to Earth, and it is understandable that there is ample reasons for us to die. But the hatred we put on ourselves is different from a conflict between countries. It’s not about reviving Zeon and redeeming ourselves. We don’t care about what happens to the “Box”; we only have two options, whether to curse the world or to keep fighting.”''

''Therefore, don’t think that you definitely won’t be killed off.'' Flaste ended off, grabbed Banagher by the chest, and chided him sternly,

''“I don’t know your background, but I do know that you’re the enemy pilot who killed Gilboa. Listen, I’ll make you pay if you dare pull the Captain down. if you’re a pilot, build your own way to live like a pilot.”''

''A pilot is a fighting unit that has no grudges whether it is killed or killed others.'' Banagher compared these words to what Marida said before as he started to think. He was viewed as a pilot, and even if it was an outcome prompted out of coincidence, he had fulfilled the purpose of a pilot. Even if he was called a brat, no one was willing to play around with him. He thought, ''I’m seen as being part of the situation, and I’m actually affecting the situation.''

It did not happen like this because he hoped for it. It was the same for Zinnerman or Flaste or the rest. Everyone was caught in an unreasonable situation. Even if they wanted to live in any way they wanted, this world was too cruel, and humans were too helpless. Currently, he was on the border of life and death. He did not know how much he could continue walking. The body of flesh that was removed from its civilized looking skin was so fragile. Perhaps it was a mistake to think that humans were born with such a cruel nature, and an absolutely unreasonable possibility.

Even so, humans continued to live on, fought against this harsh nature, drank water, and devoured other forms of life. Zinnerman harbored such pain that could not be compensated even in death, but he still lived on. Banagher kept saying that he did not want to do anything, but he was still walking. He could stop in his tracks, but an unknown impulse he had no idea of was pushing him as he continued to walk forward without caring.

That was because Banagher instinctively knew that if he stopped in his tracks, he would be losing to this unreasonable situation. The moment he stopped and started cursing the world, his world would be shut off. Humanity used their fragile bodies to explore nature, survive and finally fly into space. This impulse that ignores everything pushes all unreasonable parts of the world, whether they were diseases, famines, discriminations', war…all the lives living on this world would have to fight against such unreasonable things, and the history of wars were past of humanity’s history.

That was why they had to progress, to move forward, to keep walking straight until they could accept this, to this world that would liberate them from all unreasonable things. Even if they know that such a world did not exist, they had to continue on mindlessly, even if they had to destroy this nature around them. They had to keep shouting as part of their instincts, that they would not lose as long as they were walking forward.

And then, they had to make an endless dream. They could not allow themselves to stop, they had to desire, rush to the target they wished to destroy and find the hope that had never wilting. They had to harness the power of possibilities residing inside their bodies and believe that tomorrow would be better. ''A glass of water, a little compassion from everyone else, I feel like I can continue on a little longer just by knowing the suffering everyone had.'' As he harbored such simple and gentle thoughts…

However, living bodies were still bodies of flesh. Even if he was unwilling, the flesh had its own limits. A strong sleepy feeling suddenly surged up in Banagher, and his feet were starting to feel heavy. The shadows of night gathered from around, and his visibility quickly darkened. ''No, don’t sleep, keep going.'' Even as he said these words in his heart, it was useless as the ground at his feet rose up vertically, and his hands that wanted to support his body slid along the sand. The impact that crashed into the ground became a distant echo, and Banagher could not even feel the impact of the fall as his face was buried in the sand, his consciousness drifting away.

===Part 11===

The cracking sounds of flames could be heard, and Banagher felt the heat touching his face as he opened his eyes.

A column of smoke could be seen rising up, seemingly mixing into the faint ink-like starry night. Zinnerman was beside him, sitting on the ground and setting a fire, and the shadows that were casted upon the rock behind them were swaying. Banagher’s eyes caught sight of the marks around the shadows. These pictures looked like cow herds and people holding bows and arrows, and on a closer look, there were countless marks like this craved all over the rock wall. Perhaps these marks were left behind since a long time ago by the people living here when humanity first started to move.

The wall showed people tending to their livestock, men heading to war and women facing each other while sitting on chariots. ''Does this mean that this place had greenery for people to live, that there were work, wars, families and all sorts of human activities?'' As he laid down, Banagher looked up at the wall as he lingered in a half-dazed manner, only to suddenly see Zinnerman, who had been looking at him, right in the eyes.''

He wanted to get up immediately, only to notice a blanket covering him. His body that was lying on the hard floor was completely stiff, and whenever he moved, he would feel intolerably sore. Zinnerman took up the small pot heated over the fire and poured the fluid in it over to an empty can. ''Here'', he then handed the can over while seemingly saying this. The fragrance of the hot soup flowed out from within, and Banagher received the soup can without thinking.

He hurriedly poured the hot soup into his thoroughly cold and dry body, finding it a waste of time to wait for it to turn cold. The soup that was heated by a real fire was different from a vessel that had a heating function, as it could warm even a person’s heart. His invigorated nerves were starting to move, and there was a sense of warmth inside his body. He could feel that his body that should have used all energy and strength was trembling due to delight, pulsating. ''I’m not dead yet, I’m still alive.'' The moment he understood this, he gathered all the warmth to his nose and looked up at the sky.

The tears that remained in his eyes flowed out, and he stared at the stars that flickered in his blurry sights. This night sky that was powered by something unknown was brighter than he thought. The galaxy’s arm flashed by as a river of light, causing the night sky to give a deep blue color.

“Why are you crying?”

Zinnerman threw a dried twig into the fire as he mumbled these words. Banagher continued to look up at the sky as he answered, “The stars are really so pretty…” ''My excuse here is really stupid, but it’s not a lie.'' Zinnerman then snorted and looked up above his head.

The sounds of the maggots resting in the ground were quietly welling the breath of night as they were gradually sucked in by the darkness. Banagher remembered that scorpions and snakes would be attracted by heat, and rubbed his teary eyes before looking around. He saw that there was a pesticide sensor around them, and heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that they had already climbed over the sand dunes. The surroundings were an uneven rugged rocky stretch, and he could see rocks that were in weird shapes due to many years of constant erosion. The hard and dry ground had lithic scattered all over the place, and the shrubs could be seen growing from the ground. A small figure suddenly lit its eyes and quickly disappeared into the darkness, probably a mouse living in the desert or some other organism.

There were organisms living in this place that even humans had already abandoned a long time ago. They continued to endure the harsh conditions, followed their impulsive will to live blindly, and continued to look for prey all just to continue their daily life. ''Don’t they find this world unreasonable?'' Banagher looked up at this rocky wall that was most probably left behind by people of the past, and tried to pull through his thoughts that were not exactly thinking. Only humans were granted the ability to draw and to think. If this intelligence was the reason why humans felt that things were unreasonable, perhaps there was no other organisms who were caught in the cycle of cause and effect more than humans. If modern people could live with nature like those people who drew the wall painting—

“I feel like the saying that the Earth will be polluted is a hoax when I stay here.”

Zinnerman looked up at the clear starry sky as he suddenly spoke up. Feeling unexpected, Banagher stared the side of his face.

“But in fact, the sky here was a lot dirtier than before. It’s said that deserts would expand every year right until where Dakar is. This is a negative consequence of developing Earth again, and also a result of the abnormal weather caused by throwing down colonies and meteors…but these things probably didn’t matter to Earth.”

The wind blew through the cracks between the rocks, releasing the sound that resembled a human voice. Zinnerman did not look at Banagher’s face as he naturally continued,

“The meaning of protecting Earth is just about protecting the ecosystem humans relied on. This sentence can be established as the price of global warming, desertification, and Earth being polluted by chemicals. If humans can be considered to be the ones creating everything, the trash and toxins produced by humans can naturally be seen as part of nature. If humans are the only ones who can’t live, the likelihood is that nature is trying to achieve a balance. To Earth, it probably doesn’t matter whether there are any organisms living on Earth or not.”

Banagher, who nearly died at the hands of the desert, could empathize with this statement. Living together with nature—this kind of nature was probably a fantasy humans had after being pampered by civilization. He could only lower his head as he felt amazed by how shallow his thoughts were.

The older generations of humans who struggled against the harsh conditions instinctively knew about this. Nature will never show any mercy to humanity, so humanity created civilization to live on, and used the system called society to protect themselves. But as time went by, this system got overly complicated, and humans ended up having to live for the sake of maintaining the system. Humanity then launched wars and continued to develop, let the economy grow…until they ended up making it hard for them to live, reversing their priorities.

''Once a fetter is set up, the task of protecting the fetter itself would become something the adults had to deal with, and this would cause them to lose their ability to view things from an objective standpoint—'' Banagher heard the words Daguza said before amidst the wind as they entered deep into his ears.

“That’s why humans tried to look for this new world in space, but the system still remained on Earth. What the system demanded was that the exceeding population was to be removed from the ground. In the end, a group of people were dumped into space and created a different system there.”

“It was Zeon. They brought hope to the Spacenoids who were basically abandoned and gave them a new system, indicating a new direction to live…naturally, the system on Earth was rejected. Two systems that originated from different sources couldn’t coexist. One side had to succumb. This was established and proven by history by people of the olden times, before the Federation’s system was set up.”

Zinnerman looked far away between the stars where his hometown was and kept quiet. Banagher felt that the vague parts in his mind were becoming words, seeping deep into his mind, and stared at the man making the fire brighter. Zinnerman then glanced over “What? I’m not suitable for such things?” and asked, hiding his embarrassed expression as he pouted. “No.” Banagher answered as he looked away from that unexpectedly amicable bearded face.

“I feel so amazed that you can arrange your thoughts so clearly, it’s amazing…my history studies will be more decent if I was taught this way.”

“That’s because nature turns everyone into philosophers.”

Zinnerman said with a comfortable voice and laid down on the ground. Banagher gave a wry look and stared at the empty can he drank from. “But…” he tried to turn the words in his heart into a voice.

“But, looking at history, humanity managed to create a united government in the Federation and created a world where billions of people could stay in space. I guess that’s just a fantasy to those in the old ages, isn’t it? Doesn’t humanity also have this kind of possibility? It should be possible for humanity to unify these two thoughts and create a new system…”

Someone believed this before. Banagher did not hope that the speech the First Prime Minister of the Federation made as he was crushed together with “Laplace” in space was just a speech. Zinnerman did not move his body that was using its arm as a pillow, “That was established with many sacrifices.” and said with a sigh.

“The Federation didn’t view everyone as equal. There’re many oppositions they shot down and fought. That grudge still exists on Earth. It’s not going to be easily removed just like that.”

Zinnerman showed his hatred of losing his wife and child because of the unjustness of history, and his face looked like a demon for a moment. Banagher was not willing to continue looking at him as he immediately lowered his head and said with a very inaudible voice, “That was really too sad…”

“Yeah, it’s sad. We lived on to abandon our sadness…so why did it end up like this…”

Zinnerman’s muttering face was no longer like a demon, but the face of someone who was tortured unreasonably by sadness as large as a mountain, but still wanted to live on as a human. It was also the face of a human who experienced pain because of knowledge and blood, and yet could show gentleness. ''This man is probably someone gentle. He doesn’t know how to deal with the cruel reality and can only let the devil reside in him—that’s really sad.'' Banagher’s chest that was telling him this was shuddering, and tears of various sizes welled up in his eyes, silencing him. He laid down on the ground, his back facing Zinnerman, and he used the blanket to cover his sniffling sound.

Zinnerman gave a sharp stare right at Banagher’s back. “I know!” Banagher said without looking at the other man.

“You want to say that a man can’t cry in front of others, right?”

He rubbed his eyes, “it depends on the time and occasion” only to hear a quiet voice, and turned to look at Zinnerman.

“It’s ugly when someone cries out of self-pity, but it’s different if tears are shed for others. I won’t trust a man who won’t cry no matter what happens.”

After saying that, Zinnerman snuggled his body into the sleeping bag and did not move. “We’ll leave before dawn.” This voice rang beside in Banagher’s ears before he was about to enter that were about to enter the silence.

“We have to at least make up time for lagging behind. Rest well. Many illnesses are caused by a lack of sleep.”

The back profile that looked like a bear swayed on the other side with the fire. Banagher had an exceptional impression on that back as he closed his eyes.

''I can understand many things by thinking about it.'' This thought caused Banagher to immediately forget about the lethargic self he showed for the past few days, and he muttered to himself that he should first cross this desert. However, the astonishingly powerful sleep monster leapt at Banagher, and in a moment, he fell into a deep slumber.

===Part 12===

However, it was not easy to make up time after lagging behind on a journey in the desert.

The result of spending twice the amount of time expected to cross the sand dunes was that the relatively easy schedule they originally estimated was debunked. By the time the 3rd day ended, they cleared more than 30km. After using up 3 quarters of the estimated time, the fact that they only covered half the distance was right in front of them.

In the desert, delaying their journey would cause dehydration, the most severe situation. It was said that the limit of moving in a desert without drinking was 4 hours. Once the limit was exceeded, humans would be unable to move, and they could only wait as the fluids in their bodies get evaporated.

There was no water source in the middle of this journey, and of course, they could not hope for rain. Even though they saw several dark clouds on the horizon, the water would evaporate before they landed. On the 5th day, the water they rationed to the maximum was left at less than 500ml, and the bag that was originally heavy became exceptionally light. This light weight was basically equivalent to the amount of life they had left—the sunshade that was draped down from their shoulders covered them, and Banagher saw the faded looking sky as he touched his forehead that became rough due to his skin peeling. The skin felt completely different from the border of cloth. There was still some form of original skin color and feeling within 1cm from the line, and it felt like he was in a form of happiness called oblivion. To a bystander, the color on his forehead was definitely divided in half, and the skin under the cloth was like a baby, not knowing the fatigue of someone at his limits, and not knowing thirst.

The sunset that had already left the horizon for a long time was scattering its evil heat rays diagonally. Banagher’s body required rest soon, but the back profile of Zinnerman that was walking in front showed no signs of stopping. He would look around from time to time, check the compass and the map, and continued to move beyond several rocky areas suitable for resting. If they stopped here, they would never move again—and Banagher had this sense of danger as well, but he did not feel that this was the only reason why Zinnerman would care about moving forward. During this time, he never saw Zinnerman check the GPS coordinates. Zinnerman did not say anything, and Banagher did not have the courage to ask him, but it was very likely that the GPS malfunctioned due to the heat.

No matter how long they walked, the similarly shaped rocky hills at the horizon were the only things that could be seen, and surrounding them were the wide and flat dry ground that was like the bottom of a pot. Without a landmark, they might not be able to walk straight even with the help of a compass. People would exert more strength in the leg they were more comfortable with, and it was very likely that they would end up leaving a long arc on the sand without knowing. Looking at the map, they were probably not too far from Astal, but there were still no signs of any towns on the horizon, probably because they deviated from their course. Banagher stared at Zinnerman’s back that was showing some anxiety as he merely felt a chill in an instant, and moved his legs with his blank mind. This was the only good thing about the desert. All doubts and anxiousness would be evaporated as sweat, and would not stay in the body. The hot wind that blew by would create some form of assistance, and everything that could be considered thoughts would flow out from the pores.

The wind that blew from the front was called Khamsin, a dry hot dusty wind. When the low pressure occurred in the Mediterranean or Europe, the hot air would flow in from the southwest into the Sahara. They would thirst to death if they did not hurry up, and if they hurried up, they would end up using up their water. Perhaps Zinnerman was in a state where he could not make decisions as well. The hot air blew onto his face like a hairdryer, and Banagher walked along this hot pot base, his body feeling completely hot. The completely parched tongue seemed like it became a sponge. ''This wind is so hot!'' The wind was constantly increasing in strength, blowing the heat that was enough to steam into the nostrils—''

A black shadow appeared in the white vision, and Banagher lifted his head. Zinnerman, who stopped, let his body lie prone on the dry floor. He stared at the distant horizon of hills, not moving at all. The silhouettes of the rocky hills were shaking gradually, perhaps due to the effect of mirages, and it seemed to be rumbling like a tsunami.

No, that was not it. it was really rumbling. A reddish-brown block-shaped item was rising up from the horizon, gradually expanding as it became a vortex. That object could be seen gradually rising, slowly moving towards Banagher and Zinnerman. It was not the silhouette of the hills afar.

“A simoom…”

Zinnerman muttered. At this moment, the reddish brown vortex continued to increase in size as it spread towards the boundaries of the horizon they could see. The noise from the Simoom brewed across the land, whipping up a sand wall that was several hundred meters in height, sweeping the land like a flood ready to engulf the world. Zinnerman, who stood in a stunned manner, then grabbed Banagher by the arms, “Over here, hurry!” he said as he started running.

“If we stay at where we are, our skin will be eroded by the wind. We have to find a rocky place to prone down for cover.”

Both of them dashed towards the rock formation they could see on the other end as if their feet were about to be tangled up. At this moment, the force of the Simoom continued to increase, and the dust that blew upon their faces and hands started to become as sharp as rasp files. Being torn to shreds by the wind; there was a sudden sense of realism in the saying, and Banagher dashed while seemingly trying to run past Zinnerman. The Simoom—the falls of sand and wild winds continued to grow until it could nearly reach the sun at the top.

The skies were darkening, and the boom that rang with the Simoom caused the ground to rumble. Banagher and Zinnerman continued to run as they dashed into a small rocky area for cover. Both of them sprawled themselves onto the ground without any time to breath, and the Simoom that were far hotter than body temperature struck the rock as the dust hitting the top let out cracking sounds. Their faces felt hot, and they would have difficulty breathing if they had not looked away from the wind.

“Use the water to dampen the cloth and cover your mouth and nose! Or else the sandy-wind will suffocate you! Close your eyes, and do not open them until I tell you to do so!”

Banagher could barely hear Zinnerman roaring voice. He undid the sunshade cloth, used the little water left to dampen it and covered the lower half of his face with it. His mouth instinctively took in the water on the cloth, and before it could enter his mouth, the hot air that was over 50 degrees blew the cloth dry. The dust that blew into the rocky ground continued to pile up, and as his body was about to be buried in the sand, he turned his face around slightly to look at the Simoom that was looming towards him.

It was a bloody-colored mix of sandy clouds. The sun had already disappeared, and there was nothing that could be heard other than the sound of the wind covering the organs. He saw Zinnerman lunge right at him and cover the head, only to end up seeing the sand being lifted off the ground. Banagher closed his eyes, and his body that was devoured by the torrent of Simoom and sand froze.

His hands that were scratched by the sand were hurting, and the wind of death came blowing over with a reddish-brown color as if it was about to roast all the organisms, blowing over the 2 bodies that were lying prone on the floor mercilessly. Banagher was terrified of his body being lifted off the floor at any moment, and heard his heart bumping loud. Zinnerman, who was covered behind him, had his heart beating in unison, and Banagher clearly felt that the sounds of two lives resisting death were spreading through the outer world.

The sounds overwhelmed the sound of the wind, bursting through the roaring atmosphere and passing through the sky in the distant place. Banagher did hear this sound in the “Unicorn” before—''so that is the sound of my heartbeat being amplified by the machine?'' At this point, he realized this fact amidst the last bit of his consciousness that was still left. ''Was humanity obeying this sound and fighting against the merciless nature all this while? Humans gathered to protect their weak individual selves, established societies and developed the outer shell called civilization before finally suppressing the world? Is this groundbreaking power of life a crime? Is the long history of wars leading up to the Universal Century just a record of senseless destruction?'' No, this throbbing was telling him this. ''It’s too early to give an answer. We’re still a group that’s growing. Don’t end the trend.''

''Dad, Mr Daguza, Mr Gilboa, I’ve built my life off their, and I’m not alone now. I have to live, I have to live on, I have to show the power and gentleness the people with knowledge and blood possessed.''

The world rumbled, and the sound of the atmosphere being abused was moving far apart. What entered the bottom of his consciousness were the two throbbing sounds that overlapped each other. Banagher, who was buried by the Simoom, clenched his fists.

===Part 13===

It was darkness in complete silence. The seemingly frantic flapping of a bird’s wings broke this silence and darkness, causing a weak light to appear.

Banagher opened his eyes that were originally shut and looked over at the sound. He saw a pigeon, leaving footsteps on the sand as it strutted on. It stopped, stared at Banagher, tilted its head, and then continued on without being too wary. Banagher moved his body that felt like it was sealed in wax and tried to pull his head that was nearly buried in sand. Swoosh, as the sound of sand fell, Zinnerman’s arms that were draped over him landed on the ground weakly.

Zinnerman once said before that pigeons were a sign. As pigeons would not move away from a water source, it meant that there was a town or an oasis nearby if they spotted on. Banagher looked around the desert that was devoid of wind and shook his head. He then turned his eyes beside him before the sand on his hair was shaken off, and then reached his hand towards the unmoving Zinnerman, wanted to check if the man with a beard stained white by the sand was breathing or not. The pulse was clearly beating into the fingertips pressing on the carotid, and as he heaved a sigh of relief, the sound of the pigeon suddenly flapping its wings caused his eardrums to rumble. It flew to the sky that was removed from the threat of the simoom, blocked the sun shining down for a while, and then vanished on the other side of the rocky ground.

Banagher undid the mask cloth that was covered with sand and took in fresh air. The sand entered his windpipe, and he coughed, but there was no sign of saliva dampening him. He could only care about spitting the powder-shaped sand in his mouth, supported himself off the rock and straightened his legs. He stared at the haversack that was covered with sand, controlled his swaying feet, and tried to get over to the other side of the rock to observe. The falls of red sand had subsided, and as he looked at the horizon that clearly divided the clear sky and the ground. At that moment, he felt his mind going blank.

After blinking a few times, he reached his hand out for the mouth that was blankly agape. He could feel the rough feeling of the cracked lips and the sound of the sand shaken off the hair, and once he realized that it was not an illusion, he was unable to believe his own eyes. He scampered back to the cover provided by the rock and shook Zinnerman, who was lying on the ground, several times, ''Captain'', calling out in a barely audible voice. After a few times, Zinnerman suddenly opened his eyes and abruptly raised his large body that was buried in sand.

After looking around, Zinnerman turned his still seemingly unfocused eyes at Banagher, who in turn dragged him by the arm without waiting for him to move his mouth. He tried to support the large body that nearly tumbled, probably because his feet were unable to exert strength, and pulled and carried him to the other side of the rock. Zinnerman too opened his mouth in shock after seeing the horizon on the other side. He blinked his eyes that were staring at a single point, used his hand to wipe his face, patted off the sand on his beard, and leaned his neck forward while lying forward.

His face suddenly curled in a smile, and the voice that sounded like coughing echoed deep within his throat. After that, the sound that was spat out with the sand became a muffled laugh, before becoming an extremely loud laughter that echoed through the desert. ''The captain sees it too. It’s not a mirage.'' Banagher’s body finally confirmed this as he lost strength in him, and immediately collapsed onto the ground. Zinnerman, who continued to laugh, patted Banagher’s back hard, causing him to nearly fall forward. As his nerves connected within his tense face, he too started to laugh as he sensed that his face muscles could move.

He then patted Zinnerman on the back hard, letting his laughter mix in with the other man’s gruff laughter. ''How long has it been since I laughed out loud like this?'' This sudden thought was overwhelmed by the two men’s laughter as Banagher continued to laugh with all his strength. A pigeon which may or may not be the same one as before flapped its wings from another rock and flew to the blue sky on the other side of the horizon.

At the horizon it flew towards, there was a simple stone construct surrounding its edge, and the obvious greenery of coconut trees could be seen shining under the sunlight. Astal ignored the laughing duo as its scenery that probably never changed for hundreds of years appeared at a corner of the desert, clearly indicating that their journey was over.

===Part 14===

3 days later.

The fusion reactor rocket engine that was asleep for a week awoke, and the thrusters on the side of the ship let out a roar. A large amount of sand came rising out from the white-hot jet flames, blowing aside the hill of sand buried in the bow, and the “Garencieres” that was lying in the desert rose gradually.

The sand clouds and dust covered the ship body that was 112m in length, and the hot wind could be felt from a 1km away. Banagher faced this storm that was stronger than the simoom, put on his goggles and covered his mouth with his hands. He could see the three wires tied to the bow of the “Garencieres” from beyond the raging sandstorm. The three giants that were originally on standby were were all desert mobile suits that were dyed a brown color, and they were moving, each pulling a wire to drag the bow of the “Garencieres”.

The machine with an armored silhouette was a Zaku-type, and the short and stocky machine with a hover inside the skirt was a Dom-type. All war museums would display these two machines, so Banagher was able to distinguish between them. They were both 1st generation mobile suits, and could be considered relics from the One Year War, but they could be used for manual labor that would be the equivalent for hundreds of men in this large-scale heavy machinery lifting. The giants that were tortured by the sand and dust trampled on the ground as they dragged up the spaceship that was like a giant whale by the portside, and the aft that was moved along was dragged out from the sandy hill as it was revealed. The aft turned towards the large hole left at the side of the ship as the “Garencieres” turned away, but this time, the wire at the aft was pulled up, and the large body of the “Garencieres” started to retreat.

There were also 3 mobile suits pulling the aft, and two of them had bodies of a caterpillar tank at the bottom, looking really strange there. The “Zaku tank” that had a “Zaku” upper body, and the arms were swapped to the easy magic hands, giving the vibe of a large and heavy construction machinery. The “Zaku tanks” were actively digging, and the “Dwadge” mobile suit that was slightly modified from the “Dom” pulled the “Garencieres” backwards as its bow was about to be lifted up. The aft was pulled to the edge of the ole, and the bow was lifted until the ship was tilting about 30 degrees. It then went past a certain point and fell into the hole due to its own weight. As it was about to fall into this 25m hole, the aft that was acting as support was immediately lifted vertically, causing a deep buzzing that rang throughout the desert around them. The thick cloud of dust that gushed out covered the “Garencieres”, and there was the sound of cheers and applause around them.

“Alright, good work!” Zinnerman let out a delighted call to the wireless communicator. Banagher waited for the sand to subside before taking off his goggles, and looked back at the “Garencieres” body that was lifted vertically. The VTOL ship landed perfectly under gravity conditions, and looked like a rocket ready to launch into space. Once the fuel it required was filled, the “Garencieres” should be able to launch whenever it wanted to.

[[Image:KSGU6 094.png|thumb]]

It had been 2 days since he barely made contact through the phone in Astal, and the Zeon remnants and the people from Mauritania. The “Garencieres” was finally pulled up with strengthened wires attached based on the ship’s calculated toughness and a dug hole, a result of the work of mobile suits that worked tirelessly. “Amazing…” Banagher could only exclaim with honest amazement. Excluding the part that was sunk in the pothole, the “Garencieres” that stood in the desert was still 90m tall, about the height of a 40 story building, and one would think of the large Tower of Babel that appeared in the Bible. It seemed Zinnerman had the same feeling as well as he looked up at his ship a while after his contact with the wireless communicator. His face was saying, “Now we can get out of this damned place”, and he was filled with emotions as the word relieved would not be able to describe it completely.

“I want to thank you. If not for you, I might have collapsed out of fatigue on the way.”

That face suddenly spoke up calmly, causing Banagher to feel shocked. Banagher thought about how since he mentioned it at this point, they had not talked to each other. “Since when…” he felt his face heating up as he immediately answered, and his stare escaped towards the mobile suits that were walking loudly.

“I didn’t do anything. All I did was to pull you down.”

“Not exactly. It feels different to have someone I can talk to on the way. Your stubbornness is really quite an eye opener.”

Zinnerman smiled once he met Banagher slightly in the eyes. It seemed that all the suffering they went through paid off as well, and Banagher felt doubtful about his own feelings as he lowered his head. Behind them, Flaste seemed to have heard their conversation, “Man”, as he shrugged his shoulders.

“There goes the captain’s bad habit again. Is the Garencieres going to have a new member?”

Flaste showed a wry grin at Banagher, and it was not full of spite like the previous few days. These unexpected words entered their hearts, and Banagher looked back at Zinnerman’s face in a flustered manner. Zinnerman himself avoided the stare as he glared at Flaste, saying, “Is it fine for you to dilly-dally around like this?”

“They’re guerillas, but they’re an organization basically made up of illegal residents. Watch carefully and don’t let them wreck the ship.”

“Okay okay okay, I’ll try to be the demon supervisor… THAT “ZAKU” OVER THERE! DIDN’T I SAY THAT IT’S TOO EARLY TO RELEASE THE ROPE!?”

Flaste yelled into the wireless communicator as his face really became that of a demon supervisor as he ran right at the mobile suit that was moving around the sand. Banagher stared at the back profile that looked really carefree; and carelessly thought that they might be able to get along. However, he again felt a sense of doubt with this sense of belonging he seemed to have found. “Every unit is to hurry up with the checks. We’ll leave the desert tomorrow.” Zinnerman spoke behind Banagher, who looked up at the “Garencieres” that looked dazzling in the sun.

''The “Unicorn” is sleeping inside there. I suppose we’ll be searching for the “Box” once we are ready to move out. Logically, the Federation army won’t sit back and watch this. Since there’re many mobile suits mobbing, they’ve probably grasped our movements. More than half of the Zeon remnants are guerilla organizations with illegal residents, but they’re not to be underestimated. If these people assist in the search for the “Box”, it’s not hard to imagine that Earth will be caught in a commotion again.''

''So, what should I do at that moment?'' Banagher let the sky enter his eyes as he recalled the crew members of the “Nahel Argama” that felt exceptionally distant. And then, a pair of emerald eyes suddenly appeared in his mind. Audrey Burne—the girl called Mineva Zabi was on Earth as well. She was definitely bothered and hesitant somewhere under this sky.

''I really want to meet.'' The thought that rose from deep within clung onto Banagher’s heart, and as he clenched without much of a aim, the sound of a jet engine was mixed in together with the sound of the wind. Banagher immediately got into a defensive position as he looked around, and saw a small machine appearing from behind a sand dune.

It was an old VTOL carrier, and was similar to an old Cessna-class as it flew over Banagher’s head as he was watching. “Don’t worry, that machine contacted us.” Zinnerman said from behind, and Banagher looked where it flew. The VTOL carrier whiffed up sand and dust beside the “Zaku Tank” at the mobile suits the remnant army sent over, and landed with refined movements on the sandy ground, in front of the “Desert Zakus” that were tied in wires. The hatch on the side of the machine opened, and a person clad in black got up from the pilot seat.

The slender figure swayed amidst the mirage as it was covered in black cloth. Banagher saw that ethnic Arabian attire on television before… ''Is that a local?'' He stared at the silhouette that approached, identified the color of the eyes that were revealed between the gap of the clothes, and gasped, as the emerald eyes similar to Audrey’s were right in front of me.

“You’re Captain Suberoa Zinnerman, right?”

The silhouette ignored Banagher, who gulped, and asked with a clear voice. “That’s me. Who’re you?” Zinnerman answered, and the visitor removed the cloth below her nose.

“I’m Loni Garvey. I’m here on my father’s behest.”

Her brown face showed the same sparkling eyes as Audrey, and Banagher felt that she was of a similar age as his. He reflected on the beautiful-sounding name, and harbored a pressurized feeling while staring at the side of the girl’s face. Beside him, Zinnerman widened his eyes, “Father…I see, so you’re Madhi Garvey’s daughter?” Loni suddenly smiled and said,

“My father wants to meet you. Please come along with me.”

“It really doesn’t matter, but where is Mr Madhi?”

“He booked a hotel at Dakar.”

Zinnerman immediately showed a change in expression the moment he heard these unexpected words, “…Sound doesn’t sounds like we’re talking about business here.” In response, Loni kept the smile in her eyes. Banagher had a premonition about this and closed his jaw slightly.

“We heard of the information regarding the “Box”. The next coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program is Dakar…it seems that my father set up an appointment there to discuss with you.”

These words caused Banagher to recall what he forgot in his mind. The guide leading to the “Box”, the Laplace Process, had showed a new coordinates—and while Banagher turned his head inadvertently, Zinnerman did not look over at him as he turned his tense bearded face at Loni, saying “I understand, please wait for me to get prepared”, before leaving the place. Banagher felt that something was falling out of his grasp, but was unable to say anything as he watched the other man leave. “Are you the pilot of the ‘breaking horn’?” At this moment, Loni asked, and Banagher’s shoulders shuddered in shock the moment he heard it.

“‘Breaking horn’?”

“Isn’t that the mobile suit you’re piloting? I heard that it’ll split its horn, and the machine will become a “Gundam”.”

Loni showed her white teeth as she said that, and her adult-like expression which had a childish glint caused Banagher to gulp.

“You’re young, just like what I heard. If possible, you should come along?”

“Me too…?”

“You’re a Spacenoid, right? It’s not like you’ll lose anything if you visit Dakar. That is the capital of our enemy…the Federation government anyway.”

Loni turned around without waiting for Banagher to answer. Banagher wanted to argue that he did not think that way, but his voice was stuck in his throat as he could only watch Loni’s lean and petite figure. The new coordinates shown by the Laplace Program was at the capital of the Federation government, Dakar. He could not comprehend the meaning behind this, but he knew that things were spiraling downwards as he looked up at the “Garencieres” lifted before him. The dusty and sandy wind blew by, teasing his body for being unable to think of a next step.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_6_Chapter_2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 4 Chapter 1

2013-06-03T04:52:30Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 11 */

==Chapter 1==

===Part 1===

“…What did you just say?”

At that moment, Alberto felt the entire world around him distort, and could not help but ask back. (You should have heard that clearly.) A cold voice rang through the speaker of the headphone.

(I don’t know how they got in contact with each other, but Banagher Links is definitely Cardeas’ son, the son he had with Anna Links after Ellen died.)

Martha Vist Carbine’s steel-like face remained unmoved on the monitor that had static noise on it. ''Banagher Links, that arrogant boy who boarded the RX-0 without understanding the significance and importance of the machine, who ended up bearing the burden of the Laplace Box…that’s right. It was that Links. I definitely heard of this surname before, so why didn’t I think of this possibility? Is it because I didn’t want to admit it—'' Alberto asked his dazed mind and got an answer, and was speechless again because of this shock. The sense of realism was lost from Martha on the monitor and the communication room console, and Alberto continued to feel that his body was distorted together with the world around him.

''Is this a plan that was thought out? Or was it all completely unreasonable coincidence? Either way, Cardeas Vist did not just hand the Box over to a random boy who was passing by, but the fate of the family to the child of the woman who could not become his succeeding wife—and also left aside the one person who originally had this right, the one who should inherit this.''

(Pull yourself together. It doesn’t matter who the “Unicorn” pilot is. The problem is that the machine is already in Neo Zeon’s hands. That’s a failure on your part, Alberto.)

The sharp voice reached his eardrums, dragging his wavering consciousness back in. Alberto grabbed the mic of the headphone and turned his stare of reliance towards Martha on the 15 inch monitor.

“Bu-but, that was the best option in that situation. Without the “Unicorn”, we can protect the Box. I was thinking about letting the “Unicorn” get destroyed there…”

(Results justify everything. I told you before that people will never judge the means, right?)

It looked like it was a casual nudge forward, but in fact, it was a solid leash. Alberto saw that Martha was physiologically  wounding him with her usual tone, and all his momentum was killed off. (I’ve already used up all means that could be used.) The Acting Leader of the Vist Foundation continued on, while all Alberto could do was to listen quietly.

(The Central Government in Dakar received the report about Mineva Zabi being imprisoned, and were panicking over it. Soon after, they’ll be taking action. Just stay over there and see how things develop.)

“Yes…”

(This is a path of no return. You better amend the failure you made. You can do it.)

A path of no return. This line was stuck in Alberto’s heart, causing him to look up, and at this moment, Martha disappeared. He saw his blurry face being reflected on the monitor screen, used his barely numb hand to take down the headphone, and slumped heavily onto the hard chair.

There was no one else in the second communication room located on the bridge block. The narrow and long room had a monitor and console for communications, and two chairs were lit by the reflected light of the power indicator. This facility was meant for unified communication to whichever squadron they belonged to during landing exercises and fleet operations, but the bridge’s communication facilities itself would be enough for the Nahel Argama that would launch alone. This was a place where there would not be much problems for a civilian, who was coincidentally on board, to use as a public phone.

The line here was isolated from the one on the bridge, so there was no worry of the conversation being tapped. The ECOAS surveillance range had not extended here either as only the vague voices of the bridge broadcast could be heard in the room. (Highline Post, get ready to install) (Linking hull at the expected moment. No changes. At the designated time, the Emergency response group are to…) and more messages could be heard. Despite not knowing what they were about, it was most likely that they were preparing to repair the ship. It had been more than 5 hours since the Nahel Argama left the shoal space region to meet the resupply ship the Senate Council sent over, and they were in a situation where it could be said to be absolutely normal.

It had been a day and a half since Neo Zeon attacked and the RX-0, the key to the Box, had been taken away. It was unknown what Martha did, but the Senate Council that was hard to budge finally took action. Their mobile suit squad got wrecked, the Nahel Argama frame had taken obvious damage, but the order to retreat would never come if they took the resupply. The ship was used to carry out a secret mission—and also a ship that housed the heir to the Zabi family, and it would have to continue its journey where the front could not be seen. He had no privacy, could not shower as he wanted, and could not make a call to the psychologist counsellor who he often talked to. His days of being viewed as obstructive and butting heads with Daguza and the ECOAS would still have to continue. “Damn it!” Alberto groaned as he swept aside the headphone on the console.

That would be fine. The stench of the ship’s paint and the unique odor of ozone had completely stained his body, and he had to endure that too. What was hard for him to endure was the fact that he was unable to sleep. ''That man’s'' voice dragged his thoroughly fatigued body from sleep together with the air-conditioning and the gust from the motor.

''A path of no return…when will I forget the feeling of squeezing that trigger? There was no other way. That man was the one who wanted to break the 100-year worth of order after all. That man left me alone when I’ve always done the most appropriate thing, so why did he—'' Alberto clenched his stiff hands.

“Why…am I not the chosen one?”

He squeezed out the voice from deep within his throat, and his trembling body felt the weak gravity behind it. Alberto did not lift his face from the console until this surge of emotions subsided.

===Part 2===

The wall was covered with a soft mat used for self-mutilation prevention, and the ceiling had a surveillance camera installed. There were no windows, and the door had a peephole through the doorgrill. The scene for a prisoner detention room was the same for either Federation or Zeon. If there was a difference, it would be that the air-conditioning here would be quieter.

Amidst the silence, the sound of an electronic lock being unlocked was heard. Mineva Zabi sat on the hard mattress of the built-in bed and looked towards the opening door.

''It’s not mealtime yet…is it a new interrogator?'' As Mineva thought this way and got ready to get defensive, a familiar face appeared at the door. Mineva did not know what expression to make at this point as she kept her mouth shut. Riddhe Marcenas had his back facing the light from the corridor as he too stared at Mineva with a tense expression.

“Audrey Burne…no, I should be calling you Mineva Zabi, right?”

Riddhe turned his hand to close the door behind him as he said with a somewhat gloomy voice. His eyes had icy cold anger in them. Mineva did not think that a pilot had a need to meet her, and she did not feel that the higher-ups would agree to this. She realized that this was not an official meeting, and clenched her trembling fists as hard as she could. Riddhe casted an unmoving stare on Mineva and said with a suppressed voice, “I often heard the Zabi family’s speeches when I was young.”

“Gihren Zabi was your uncle, am I right? When his younger brother Garma died on Earth, Zeon carried out a state funeral on its land. It was probably broadcasted throughout the world. About how they should not let Garma’s death be put to waste, that only the citizens of Zeon who were inferior were the elites chosen by heaven, that speech where people kept chanting ''Sieg Zeon Sieg Zeon''.”

It had been the day before…no, it seemed that it was two days before since the time both of them snuck into the “Unicorn” hangar secretly and chatted about meaningless things like how she looked like some actress. Riddhe probably spent this time facing reality as he used a stiff expression to restrain the anger and sorrow he was tasting at this point as he walked towards Mineva in his grey officer uniform. Mineva held back the urge to move back as she looked right at Riddhe’s face.

“''Sieg Zeon, Sieg Zeon''…thousands of spectators shouted just like that. It was really a vexing scene. I was just a brat back then, but I remembered that I had goosebumps. What’s with everyone from children to old folks doing the same thing with indifference? Are they robots? Can’t they think for their own? Don’t they think about what they feel?”

Closing in at a distance where their fingertips could touch each other, Riddhe clenched his fists hard, “SAY SOMETHING!” the rude voice caused the air in the narrow detention room to tremble slightly.

“Did Neo Zeon do that too? Making everyone shout Sieg Zeon or something that. Say it here then.”

That expression of his was wavering, unlike the words he said. Riddhe took a short breath and looked away from Mineva’s probing eyes, and yelled “SAY IT!” as he looked aside.

“Say Sieg Zeon. Let me know that you’re the princess of Zeon. If not…”

The stuttering voice had a tinge of crying at the end, silently moisturizing the air in the room. ''What is this person here? Why does he look so hurt'' Mineva’s chest had this tight feeling as she had this doubt, and she looked up at this young man’s face. ''Like me—this person may not be able to find a way to express his thoughts into words. He has so many things he wants to say, to confirm, but everything and anything became shallow before he could speak up.''

“…Never mind. So be it.”

After a long moment of silence, Riddhe ruffled his blond hair and stared at Mineva with a hesitant look. “I heard that you’ve been keeping quiet about this. How someone with the identity of Mineva Zabi could slip into a Federation ship like this…I think it’s not something a pilot like me can ask. I’ll leave the rest to the experts.”

He said this to affirm himself—no, for himself to hear as he turned back. Mineva saw Riddhe back that felt like he was maturing, and heard him say, “But at least remember something.” And lifted her chin.

“A guy once offered his life for a girl called Audrey Burne…that guy kept calling your name until the end. Not Mineva Zabi, Audrey.”

Mineva’s heart pumped for a moment as the face of the boy who ran alongside her in the alleys of the colony appeared in her mind. Riddhe glanced at her silent face as he quietly walked towards the door. ''This man’s thinking is too one-sided.'' Mineva instinctively thought this way, but this was not enough to wipe away that inexplicable sense of guilt. Thus, she spoke up, “You really don’t know anything at all.”

Riddhe stopped his hand that was reaching for the door handle. His face that showed shock and some anger turned around, causing Mineva to feel that he was an upright person. She suppressed the rumbling feelings under her chest as she continued, “Who are the experts you’re referring to?”

“The inquisitors or anyone related to the judicatory…”

“Nobody from the judicatory will be involved in this. The mission itself won’t be exposed, and news of my detainment won’t be reported.”

''It’s pointless to talk more, and even if I do, nothing will change, and nothing can be redeemed.'' Despite this thought, Mineva continued to move her mouth that had been stiff silent for the entire day. Riddhe’s expression changed as he turned to Mineva and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Just like what I said. Do you think this operation can be reported?”

“But this incidence and the detainment of Mineva Zabi…”

“If news of my detainment were exposed, Neo Zeon will have to take action. Why is it that Full Frontal was not willing to admit that I’m Mineva Zabi?”

“That’s because he doesn’t want our side to fight using a hostage…”

Riddhe swallowed back the words he wanted to say next as he shut up. “You’ll understand if you think about it carefully.” Mineva said as she looked down at the floor.

“The reason why I had not been captured for the past 4 years. The reason why Neo Zeon could built up its arms…”

The passionate Spacenoids’ tragic wish for independence, the sacrifice of countless nameless warriors all by risking their lives for the sake of Neo Zeon’s revival—these were the reasons but ideals alone would not do anything. Even anti-government movements would not be able to have power if the political environment and economy were not working. “You’re saying that this is a planned thing? That the Federation and Neo Zeon set this up?” Riddhe asked, and Mineva took the doubt with a shameful feeling.

“The incident at “Industrial 7” will probably still have some mass coverage, but continuous reporting will disappear within 2 days. This will become an unforgivable phenomenon for those who lost their relatives or friends…but the Spacenoids are already used to the unreasonable acts by the Federation. The Federation had always allowed our existence silently, obviously to use us as a shield for dissentment.”

It was a similar reason as to why police organizations would not hunt down triads seriously. It was similar to preventing the lawbreakers from scattering by uniting them in one trashbag. The Federation and Neo Zeon had been keeping this line, letting this gear of economy—the force called tension spin. In this sense, it would be more appropriate to call them birds of a feather instead of this being just a clever ploy. “This is the case up till now.” Mineva added these words and kept quiet. “…Did the Laplace Box break the balance between both sides?” Riddhe mused as he showed an expression that an unknown circuit was connected inside him.

“Yes. But that is probably not all of it. The Federation probably wanted to establish its relationship with Neo Zeon if we consider the fact that a mobile suit like the “Unicorn” was developed. It’s possible to think that because of this, the Vist Foundation moved the Box that had remained sealed up till now.”

Cardeas once said that peace and stability were fragile. In this era, where ideals turned to nothingness, where even the resistance movements had to be ‘managed’, it was a lot easier to slip into the loopholes of the ‘management’. Full Frontal, who had been raising arms under the ‘management’, only to vaguely show his deep intentions to break the current state, was like that. The same goes for the head of the Federation army carrying out the reorganization plan to cut military forces and wipe out Neo Zeon entirely. Cardeas probably wanted to introduce this catalyst, the Laplace Box, in order to turn this distorted world into something that could be seen by the naked eye. The memories of the War were long gone, and people believed that they could ‘manage’ war as well. Their senses showed indifference…and they ignored the signs of a great crisis.

''Either way, it’s useless to think about this again.'' Mineva looked at how she was being imprisoned and restricted on a Federation ship, and sighed slightly. If it could be as what Riddhe said, if she could be handed over to a public judicatory for a fair trial, she would be able to explain her current situation to more people. However, the chances of this would be bleak here. Once news of her detainment were revealed, Neo Zeon and even the Zeon supporters hidden in the Federation government would follow up and fight against the conservatives for their own political agendas that would continue. As both sides continued to plot, the weary clashes that would be brought about would not be what they wanted. It would still be meaningful to consider Mineva Zabi as missing. ''Will I be listed as an anonymous prisoner and get hidden by something? Will I have to change my name and get ‘managed’? Or will it be the worst situation where my disappearance will have to be for real…this isn’t impossible.''

''Of course, it’s another thing altogether with the Box. The Federation army will most likely carry out some operation to get back the “Unicorn Gundam” from “Palau”. This Nahel Argama will be taking part in that battlefront too, I suppose. In the end, this is just an extended internal battle over the Box, and political muscle alone will not be able to settle things down. Even if the pilot of the “Unicorn” is alive, no one will care about whether he’s dead or alive—''

[[Image:KSGU4 021.png|thumb]]

“…It’s really hard to understand.”

Mineva heard his musing and stopped her pessimistic thoughts as she lifted her face. She saw the extremely depressing looking Riddhe giving a tired look to the floor.

“I always deemed myself as a pilot. My job is to pilot a mobile suit, to actually finish the task I’m given, and not to think about any other unnecessary things. Even if there may be cons, I believed that the Federation government still has the power to correct it…no, this is just a lie. I just pretended not to look, not to think. It has been the same ever since I remained at ‘‘family''…”

It was a reasonable confession, but the term ‘‘family'' lingered in Mineva’s ears abnormally for some reason. “Finally, please tell me something.” Riddhe continued as he looked back at Mineva’s eyes.

“Since you already understand this, why did you still act on your own?”

This was a sincere question, and Mineva was somewhat shocked by Riddhe’s upright stare as she answered with a wary and fearful look, “I too had a ‘‘family'' ever since I was born.”

“It was a ‘‘family'' that bored the crime of the One Year War. Some viewed me as a source of danger, and some would try to promote me as a sign of the revival of Zeon. No matter what, I could not break away from political ties. If the same mistake happened again, I have a duty to stop it even if it means giving up my life.”

“Even if another danger will happen because of your disappearance?”

“I said it already, did I not? The fact that I’m not around will not be revealed. To the people who treat politics as a way of life, I’m just a piece on a chessboard. However, this is not what politics should be about.”

As she talked with Riddhe, Mineva realized that the vague thing she felt was forming into shape. “What the person at the scene should carry out…responsibility and duty, is that it?” Riddhe muttered to himself, and suddenly gave a determined stare to a corner of the wall. Mineva saw that he was looking for something, and inadvertently followed the stare, thinking about what the ''family'' Riddhe Marcenas was about. If it were the name Marcenas, the first thing she thought about was be the Prime Minister of the violent Federation Government…

“Oi, Riddhe. You should restrain yourself there.”

The voice suddenly butted in, interrupting Mineva’s thoughts. A guard with a helmet on appeared on the other side of the door grill’s peephole.

“It’s almost time for a swap. Even you can’t get away easily if you’re caught.”

Got it. I’ll go out now.”

Riddhe nodded slightly at him, and turned to Mineva again. At this moment, Mineva noticed that the power indicator of the surveillance camera above Riddhe’s head was not lit.

“I understand very well that you should be the one standing amongst the crowd to speak up. At the same time, I realize that I may not know anything at all.”

The stare that was much calmer than how it was when Riddhe entered the room showed his outstanding learning ability. “But you’re a person of Zeon.” He wordlessly looked back at Mineva, who heard his stiff voice and clenched the fists on her knees tightly.

“We were once close privately, but you’re still our enemy, the one who caused Squad Leader Norm to die. I can’t forgive you like this.”

''It’s to be expected for someone who has such emotions.'' Mineva understood that this feeling would cause people to make mistakes or save them, and took the show of determination of the youth in front of her with all she got. Riddhe turned around, and this time, really held onto the door handle.

“…I really hoped that we met somewhere else.”

Mineva could not speak up, and she had no time to answer. Riddhe quickly stepped out of the door and closed it to cover his back. The sound of the electronic lock activating reverbed. It remained in the one-person detention room for a while before disappearing.

Mineva sighed and leaned on the wall with the mat. She, who felt emotional, was so tired that she felt shocked. ''There was no one who could learn anything or be saved through words.'' She felt that she was the one who really did not know anything as she looked around the dim detention room.

''If he can survive, Banagher will probably be detained like this. Mineva blankly thought of this in her mind, which became heavy as she closed her eyes. She, who had never taken a single nap ever since she was detained, did not take much more time to fall into a deep sleep.

===Part 3===

The sound of the electronic lock being opened rang, and what replaced it was the sound of knocking. Banagher Links’ face left the window of the ship as he stared at the people appearing at the door.

As expected, Marida Cruz was standing there. Her shirt comprised of a crimson fabric with gold embroidery, matching the white pants that showed the figure of her legs. Her collar had the emblem of Zeon, the wings, on it, and the eyes above that were glowing quickly scanned the room. Marida knew that Bnagher did not have the strength to resist, but her cat-like stare would not relax as she showed no openings. The slender body that looked like it was in tightfitting clothes stepped into the room and put the food tray on the simple table.

Including this time, it had been two days since she brought food in. Including the time he passed out, it had been two days since he was detained in this ship. Banagher glanced at the food tray that had some randomly microwaved food, and stared at the side of Marida’s face as she wore the uniform of the “Sleeves”. The only noteworthy things in the cabin were the bed, the simple table, and the 30cm wide window, and her clear figure looked rather glamorous.

He recovered in the infirmary, and was then treated, questioned and detained. It was basically a repeat of his predicament in the Nahel Argama, but the air flowing inside this ship was basically different. ''What’s the name of this ship? Where’s it heading? What about the “Unicorn” that’s taken in as well?'' Even when he asked, he would not get an answer. When he stubborn asked them, he got a killing stare. Besides, this was a ship belonging to the “Sleeves”—Neo Zeon. It could not be helped, but Banagher was already enemies with them.

''I’ve already explained that he was not a Federation soldier, and also about how I met Audrey. It seems from the attitude of the interrogator, that I won’t have to worry about being treated cruelly, but I can’t relax here. Any treatment may happen as long as I’m involved with the “Unicorn”. I might be drugged and questioned, tied up to a chair or something, forced to spill out everything, and become a vegetable—''Banagher beat away these unstable thoughts as he continued to stare at Marida’s action. At this moment, that face suddenly turned, and the sapphire blue eyes stared at Banagher without hesitation.

Banagher unwittingly gasped as he did not have time to even pull back as he was grabbed on the chin from behind and lifted. He was easily lifted right in front Marida, and their faces were right in front of each other. The deep blue eyes blinked as they stared at Banagher’s eyes. The soft and gentle body odor reached Bangher’s nose, who thought ''So a female’s sweat is sweet'' in an inappropriate situation, only to be clumsily pushed backwards as he stuttered a few steps.

Banagher landed on the bed with his backside and immediately got up. Marida said with a straight expression “Your eyes are still bloodshot. Use this.” and took out something from her pocket before tossing it to Banagher.

It was a spray canister that was large enough to be held in the hand. Obviously, it was an eye ointment that was meant to be used under zero gravity. “The weakest organs under gravity in a human body are the eyes.” Marida continued, and Banagher stared back at her blankly.

“It’s not weird for the eyeballs to pop out the way you were shaken at such speed. Rest your eyes as much as you can.”

Marida turned her back on Banagher without waiting for an answer. The orange-tinge chestnut-colored hair that was tied in a knot—like what he saw at “Industrial 7” was gently released, and it seemingly mocked him as it swayed about like it was a kid. “Looks like you don’t know anything at all.” Banagher held onto the eye ointment tightly and retorted back,

“Are these the feelings of a soldier, or a terrorist?”

Banagher took the strength of Marida’s lower body head on as he turned around. It was an expression that showed that she could use violence, one full of killing intent. As he did not succumb to this when he met her, it forcefully changed his fate after that. No, not just him; but also the fates of all the people in “Industrial 7”.

He did not know what Marida did in that battle, but she was definitely one of the people who caused “Industrial 7” to be in such a huge mess. ''Even if she shows concern, I can’t let my guard down easily. Banagher used his trembling legs to steady himself on the low-gravity floor, and continued staring back at Marida, who answered back,

“You’re rather talkative after knowing that you won’t be killed.”

The ounce of strength that was supporting Banagher was reduced to nothing once that unwavering voice stated his true thoughts. He could not find anything else to retort back about as he looked away.

“I feel that I am a soldier, but we will have differing opinions. There are armies who use hostages just to be saved.”

“That’s because…”

“The worst kind of people is those who will only criticize and not do anything on their own.”

The forceful force caused the rebuttal Banagher was about to spew out from his mouth to dissipate. He swallowed his saliva and could only stare at the sapphire blue eyes that reminded him of the deep sea.

“You took action to help the Princess, so that’s why you’re being treated as such. In other words, you’re already a part of it.”

“This is…too one-sided. The reason why I’m allowed to live is because you want to understand the “Unicorn” more, right?”

“That’s one of the reasons too.”

“What about Audrey? She’s been preventing the Laplace Box from falling into Neo Zeon’s hands. Which do you think is more important? The Box or Audrey?”

“It’s not our job to decide these things.”

Marida turned her face away, seemingly trying to block out these words. Banagher realized that he seemed to have touched on a topic he should not have mentioned, and immediately shut up.

“Soon, we’ll reach our home. All the decisions will be made there. Rest whenever you can.”

“Home…?”

It was not a base or a headquarters, and the unfamiliar term home caused Banagher to frown. Marida touched the strands of hair beside her collar and gently used her chin to point at the other side of the window.

The Moon, Earth and Sun could not be seen in this bright space that was radiating with silver stars. At a point, a black shadow shaped like a bow was there. It was hard to tell the scale of it, but it did not look like a mere piece of rock floating in the shoal space region. If the lights were space navigation lights for the ships, the size of it should be bigger than a space colony. Perhaps it was a mining asteroid? Banagher brought his face as close to the small window as possible as he stared at this oddly-shaped rock. The sun in the distance shone on the tip of the bow-shaped rock, giving the vibe that it was at least the size of an asteroid. Multiple such asteroids were linked to each other, forming a bow-shaped large planet—

“That’s “Palau”, our home.”

Marida said. Banagher moved his face slightly as he did not turn his stare away from the unknown world in front of him. The rocky surface full of craters was lit with numerous lights, and the asteroid called “Palau” showed its silent face in the middle of the eternal night.

===Part 4===

The base, a space colony, was built as part of the space migration plan, so obviously, it required a large number of resources. The number of resources they could extract from Earth was not enough ultimately, and cost-wise, it would not be effective to move materials from the atmosphere. Thus, the people in the old century turned their eyes on the Moon. They built a lasting resource extraction base on the Moon, and the next step was the Asteroid Belt that existed in the region between Mars and Jupiter, a field abundantly rich in resources.

It was a hive of rocks that could not come together to form a planet because of the powerful gravity of Jupiter near it. In this belt, he floating asteroids there amounted to at least hundreds of thousands based on the observations in the old century, and it was said that there were millions of them. The overall mass of these rocks were said to be 1/35 the mass of the Moon, and most of them had outstanding minerals. Of course, these asteroids were not so concentrated that they had to be explained on an encyclopedia, and they were all sporadically scattered amongst the wide space. However, it was not impossible to lock onto a single asteroid and send an excavation team from the Earth Celestial Sphere. Also, once they knew that there was an asteroid that was suitable for mining, they would install nuclear pulse engines on it and head back to Earth on their shuttle. To humanity, which had welcomed the Universal Century, this was not a tough thing to do.

Amongst them, the most famous was the small asteroid Juno that was in the Moon’s orbit during UC 0045, dubbed “Luna II”. In the year 0060, it was made a military base called Luna Two. One purpose was to act as the largest headquarters for the Federation Army, while the other was to continue the mining activities. “Palau” was one of these mining space colonies as well. This colony was so isolated that nobody other than the people involved in colony business would know of, but it had an extraordinary history. It was said that some of the smaller colonies were dragged in from the Old Century. The added condition to the mentioned part was because “Palau” was built by having many small asteroids linked to each other, which accounted for its unique bow-shape.

Simply put, a triangular block protruding out from the tip of the bow, and the bottom comprised of 3 irregularly shaped rocks connected to each other tightly. The 4 blocks that were too small to be called asteroids were connected by multiple shafts, and it would be hard to tell that they were not asteroids unless one looked from up close. This “Palau” was a mining satellite that was 30+km wide, 15km long in diameter maximum , and looked like some realistic imagery.

As with any mining satellite, the surface of the rocks had countless space gateways and monitors. The main portion, the triangular block had two round cylinders of living areas, and each embedded on 6km wide caves on the rock surfaces. There were approximately 30,000 people living in the residential area that was maintained by centrifuge force, just like a space colony. It seemed that these people lived by mining. That was Maridas’s explanation. The ship Banagher was on—the Neo Zeon’ flagship “Lewloola” entered “Palau” together with the “Garencieres” that was disguised as a trading ship.

The ships did not enter from the space gateway on the surface, but got into a gap where the 4 blocks of rock were leaning and attached to each other. Banagher understood that the structure was the inner hollow that was dug out, creating a ‘port’ that could not be seen from the outside. However, this was all he could tell from the window of the hull. As the pressurizing rock formation and the large intertwined shafts were right in front of the windows, Banagher thought that they finally made it through, only to be taken out of the room. The moment his view expressed, he felt that he saw several ships docked in the enclosed conical-shaped space and mobile suits moving around, but Marida held onto his head, allowing him no time to check. Banagher was accosted outside, took the standard precautionary checks, and stepped onto “Palau”.

He had no chance to see the entire port. He passed through the zero gravity block, moved to a structure that looked like a terminal, and saw a chartered linear car waiting for them. This was a similar kind of transportation as the “Subway” used in the space colony, but they were really moving underground. Amongst the passengers, there were several men said to be crew of the “Garencieres” other than Marida. They obviously showed a different vibe from the crew of the “Rewloola”. Everyone were wearing glamorous looking uniforms with gold lacing, but there was the feeling that these did not feel them. In the old times, there was the saying ''Clothes makes the man '', but there seemed to be exceptions to that rule. Perhaps the vibe of not liking fancy outfits outweighed the rest here. Either way, these people did have the vibe of being part of a yakuza.

From the conversation, it seemed that Marida was a crew member of the “Garencieres”. ''Why was she the only one on the “Rewloola” and taking care of me?'' Banagher did not have time to think as the linear car moved, while the scenery outside the window was filled with rocks. After 5 minutes, they came out of the passage, and the excavation field that was dug into “Palau” appeared right in front of him. He looked like a primary school student experiencing a field trip as he stuck his face on the wall, not moving at all.

The excavation field seemed to pass through the triangular conical star, approximately 400m in diameter and more than 10km in length. This extraordinarily large space was surrounded by multiple network-like shafts. It was said that these shafts were connected to the living quarters and the port and other places. The final point of the excavation field however had an automatic firing system—a Mass Driver. It looked like it would shoot out the minerals that were dug out. Banagher deduced this from what he saw from the window, and basically, the facilities in the mining field reminded Banagher of his old home.

The factories that were near the walls of the cave did not seem to be working, and the mining machinery placed all over showed no signs of operating. Everything was covered in rust and dust, and there was the sense of a reddish-brown color fading in with the rocks. There were a few mini mobile suits moving the rocks, flying around numbly in the work environment without gravity, but the models were so old it was scary. Half of the solar panels of the artificial Sun could not be seen, and a mere sunset-like light was shown. Only the term ‘emptiness’ could describe the current scene beside the abandoned quarry there.

“It was not like this before. About 50 years ago, when the building of colonies was rampant, the chimneys here would be giving off smoke. It was said that people could not see the other level because of the smoke that was puffing out…however, the rocks here were not of outstanding minerals. Ever since mining excavation began here, there would be some other bits of stone mixed in to add up, and they managed to somehow bluff their way through. Right now, we’ve finished digging up as much as we can, and we only dig up some spare change.”

The one sitting beside him, Gilboa Sant, looked outside the window as he said. As a crew member of the “Garencieres”, he was an earnest looking black man who looked to be approximately 30. Also, he seemed to be a citizen native to this “Palau”. At least, when he was Banagher’s age, this place was not called “Palau”. When the colony committee decided to close this place down, an investor from somewhere bought this star, and named it “Palau” after the place on Earth that was attacked. Ever since then, “Palau” was designated as a special administrative zone under Side 6, and that investor safely took the role of superintendent. In the old century terms, it was basically buying a desolated island from a country. He could call himself a superintendent, but in fact, he was like a villager. Gilboa explained to Banagher,

“In the past, the Republic of Zeon once had a space base called “Solomon”, right? It seemed that this “Palau” was named because of the place that was attacked. Both these names were names of islands on Earth, but Solomon was the name of a king in a myth, and had nothing to do with that island. Anyway, they’re just trying to being trendy.”

Simply put, everyone on “Palau” was a full-fledged Zeon supporter. He probably hoped that there would be special needs after the war as he continued to buy mining quarries that could not be run while providing these resources to Neo Zeon. The Side 6 that became a pivotal point everyone knew of during the war was said to have some secret relations with the Republic of Zeon. If the superintendent allowed, it was not impossible to hide from the Federation’s eyes at this place. This was the case after the Second Neo Zeon War, when the government actively purged the remnants of Zeon.

''We’ve now entered the phase of exterminating in this Zeonism War'' the Federation declared this, but had not done anything to the entire satellite that was filled with resources and made into a base. Banagher’s dull mind was stimulated because of this, and it seemed to let him understand that the ‘relationship’ between the Federation and Neo Zeon was not as what he imagined, but he did not have the time to think more. The bearded man who was travelling with them glanced over at Gilboa who was rattling out careless, giving a look to tell him to stop, and Banagher unwittingly looked into this bearded man’s stare.

He was the man the crew called the captain. Ever since they met, Banagher had been wondering, ''Those were the eyes alright.'' He was the man who pointed his gun at Banagher in “Industrial 7”. He met the blond guy beside before, and recalled. ''Speaking of which, that ship that ruined my job by docking in that morning was the “Garencieres”.''

''They were already implicated with this situation right from the beginning. The man who chased after the stowaway Audrey and sent Marida over was most likely this guy—this captain called Zinnerman.'' Banagher looked over at Zinnerman, and sat down on the seat that was slanted at the front. ''If these guys never came, “Industrial 7” would be okay.'' The rage swelled up in him as the fear that they controlled his fate exploded at the same time, causing both emotions to form a vortex within him. However, Zinnerman did not look at Banagher anymore. Gilboa shrugged as he stopped talking too, leaving only the sound of the linear car moving.

Banagher sighed as he looked at Marida, who was looking at the back of Zinnerman’s head as she sat on a seat opposite. Those sapphire blue eyes were looking like she was being loyal to her superior, oozing with an odd sense of passion. Her tense face was rather outstanding amongst the other crew members who were randomly looking around and relaxed.

''What kind of relationship do they have?'' Banagher could not find words to ask, and had no courage to ask as his eyes escaped to the window. There was a large quarry below the linear car, below the shafts on the walls—though it was a meaningless description under this zero gravity environment. They sped on, reached a fork soon after, turned towards a cave, and the car moved towards one of the many shafts.

The quarry passed his eyes, and the narrow passage again surrounded the linear car. For a moment, darkness visited the car, covering Marida’s worried looking expression

===Part 5===

The group got off the linear car that reached its destination and got on the elevator leading to the residential area. As he felt the unique feeling of his abdominal muscles, the elevator descended 800m, sending Banagher’s group to the gravity block of the “Palau”.

The group did not head for the city located within the walls, but went through the lobby and head for another underground passage. It looked to be a service route for work as they passed through many gates that were defended by armed guards. As Zinnerman and Marida quickly moved on, Banagher inadvertently stopped to look past the other side of the gate.

The pillars supporting the roads had become round ones with cravings, and the walls had a grassy green fabric with Arabian patterns hanging off them. The worn out wall lights lit the red carpet that was laid all over the place. Waiting at the end was the large archway-shaped doors were two soldiers dressed in khaki uniforms, a short mantle, and wide rimmed helmets, giving an aged feeling. They were the same as the Republic of Zeon soldiers that were thought in history textbooks. The remnants of a defeated country, what looked like dead souls of soldiers that escaped a war museum were looking back at Banagher.

Zinnerman stood in front of the door, wearing a black shirt with gold laces. The Zeon soldiers gave a salute, and swiftly opened the door. The space acting as the staff room, which may be too big, appeared behind the door, causing Banagher to gasp a second time. The ceiling inside should be around 2 levels tall, and the 4 round pillars had spiral shaped carvings. There was an oil painting hanging above the electric heater that seemed to be for heating purpose <--!Didn’t make this up-->, and the curtains draped on both left and right sights gave a solemn feeling that was hard to tell if they were antiques. The unevenness of the teeth-shaped ornaments could be seen on the beam, and even the ceiling lights cover had similar carvings that showed the delicate skill of the craftsman. All the furniture showed some form of balance, and yet showed a luxury that one might mistake to be nobility in a palace.

Despite looking antique, it had no semblance to past designs. Banagher was overwhelmed by this scene that could only be described as Zeonism as he remained stunned. The Vist family too had an antique feel, but it was different. If the Vist family’s scene could be described as being based on luxury, this would give goosebumps while looking like it was meant to intimidate others. It looked to be an expression of culture by the people sent from Earth to the furthest Side, made after they got over their self-defeat—as they lost the Republic, they could only live in the dusty-smelling depths of the caves, a sand habitat that was like a flash in the pan. Banagher did not feel fear or uneasy, just weird as he stared at the anomaly sitting right in front of him.

That man was wearing a red uniform, wearing a mask as he faced Banagher. ''Is he a human?'' This was the first impression Banagher had. He could not detect any sense of lift from that man, not just from the mask covering his eyes, but also the vibe that he was artificially created. He stared at the masked man who sat on the Mahogany made office table, and seriously thought that it might really be part of the decorations in the room. However, that man said “I admit, this is not in good taste.”, shocking him.

“The superintendent of this “Palau” is a supporter of the old Zeon republic. Our army did not request anything from him when we regrouped, but he built this command post. It’s said that he replicated the interior decorations final base of the old republic army—A Baoa Qu.”

It was hard to tell if it was the mask talking in front of Banagher, as that was a slightly chilly voice. The masked man continued as he stared at the silent Banagher, “You have to accept other people’s kind intentions honestly.”

“Although it doesn’t actually fit my tastes, I think it is also one of the required qualities of a leader.”

Before Banagher could respond, the stare went through the anti-glare filter and stared right at Zinnerman’s group. “It’s been tough on you, Captain. You do not have to accompany us here.” On hearing this, Zinnerman answered, “Yes, Captain Full Frontal.” His heavy voice echoed through the room.

Full Frontal…Banagher stared back at this masked man as Zinnerman and Marida walked out of the room. He heard of this name before. Banagher had an impression of this name being mentioned by someone on the Nahel Argama when he hurriedly launched out. ''The Red Comet, the Man called the Second Coming of Char—that’s right, it’s the pilot of that red mobile suit. That Char who appeared on the news during the Republic era too used a mask to cover his face…''

“What is it? Please take a seat.”

The unexpectedly earnest voice came from below the mask, causing Banagher’s mind to rid itself of its arranged thoughts. He resisted the urge to get up as he sat on the sofa beside the heater. A young soldier wearing a white servant uniform immediately closed in and poured red tea into the teacup on the table. As the servant left without looking at him, Banagher sensed that there was another stare looking at him.

It was a young officer standing beside Frontal. Despite wearing a bright green uniform, his sense of presence was covered by the masked man, and Banagher did not notice him…or rather, perhaps he was deliberately trying to keep a low profile as she stood beside. Either way, the stare on Banagher was exceptionally tight when compared to Frontal’s, intimidating Banagher a little. The servant walked out of the room, and the ones left to talk to were him and Frontal. Banagher felt that he was giving a very imposing stare from a corner.

Right beside him, Frontal did not say anything. He put his arms on the table, locking his fists and using them to support his chin, giving a machine-like stare at Banagher. Banagher could not tell where the stare was looking from under the mask, and instead of being fearful, he wanted to know what kind of people they were, and how they intended to deal with him. ''If I keep waiting for them to talk, I’ll be devoured by the pressure under the mask.'' Banagher looked down at the floor once, wiped the sweat on his hands off his knees, and decided to ask, “Excuse me…”

“Are you the man piloting that red mobile suit?”

The young officer quickly narrowed his eyes, and Frontal’s lips showed a smile.

“What will you do if I say you were? Are you unable to have tea with an opponent you fought before? Young Banagher Links.”

With a voice of ridicule, the observer’s stare cling onto him. Banagher understood that his body was being probed, and reacted as his trembling hand reached for the red tea and put it to his lips. He could not taste the flavor or aroma, and even the heat. “Good response.” Frontal’s voice could be heard clearly.

“However, you never considered the consequences. This is the nature of a pilot.”

Frontal casually got up and got closer to Banagher, whose stare was robbed by the lush blond hair while being distracted by the rose in a vase, the only decoration on the table. Up till now, the red rose had been swallowed by the presence of the Red Comet. In this room that was covered with artificial things, this was a blood-colored flower that asserted life…

“I’m Captain Full Frontal. I’m grateful for what you did for Her Highness Mineva. This invitation might be a little violent, so please forgive me for this.”

Frontal stood in front of Banagher and reached his right hand out, while Banagher hurriedly look back at him. He was about to inadvertently respond to Frontal, only to clench his hand that was about to reach out. ''No, I can’t let him get his way.'' Banagher felt a pulsating pain from his temples as he said cautious, “It might be rude to ask, but may I ask if that mask is really used for hide a wound?”

Frontal showed an unexpected expression on his lips as he put his hand. The young officer over his shoulder gave a more menacing glare, and Banagher looked up at the eyes under the mask.

“If that’s not the case, I hope to see your face.”

“You bastard…!” The young officer muttered as he stepped forward, but Frontal raised his hand to stop him.

“It’s alright, Lieutenant Angelo. Young Banagher is talking about some basic etiquette.”

The young officer called Angelo stopped in his tracks. The stare under the anti-glare filter stared back at Banagher, who took the stare from the person taller than him while exerting strength in his nearly limp knees.

“This might be considered part of a fashion statement. I might say it can be considered a method of propaganda.”

As he said this, the hands covered by the white gloves reached for the mask. ''Ah.'' As Banagher thought this way, Frontal simply removed the mask.

The clear blue eyes first entered his eyes, and then, the old scars at the middle of his eyebrows was etched his stare. The nose bridge that formed a nice line was not repulsive, giving a nice tension that those young people of Caucasian ethnicity would have. The only thing outstanding was that the cheekbones did not reflect his age, but this may be a thought after comparing the image of Char Aznable in photos. Basically, there were no actual signs of flaws, and Banagher swallowed the saliva after forgetting to do so as he faced this handsome face that could not be described simply as proper looking.

“I forgot to take it off because no one would honestly say it out like you. My apologies.”

This time, Frontal put his mask under the armpit and reached his hand out again. This time, there was no reason to refuse as Banagher held on his again. The hand under the glove felt rather hard, causing Banagher to remember the first impression of a puppet he had in his mind, but this may be because of the bad feelings he had when he ended up caught in the other party’s pace. Banagher decided to control himself as he held back from thinking further.

“I heard you met Her Highness Mineva.”

Frontal stepped back towards his table, and spoke, “However, as for how the mobile suit of the Vist Foundation…the “Unicorn” was handed to you, there’s still a lot I don’t understand. That was a machine our army should receive, so why did Cardeas Vist choose you to carry the Laplace Box…”

“I said it before. I don’t know any specifics in this.”

Banagher supported his body that was questioned out of a sudden as he said while seemingly interrupting the other party’s words. Frontal put his mask on the table and turned to Banagher, asking as he sat on the chair, “Is that so?”

“The Vist Foundation managed to maintain its prosperity and riches as they secretly kept the Box. There must be a plan that could not be changed easily for the Vist Foundation to break the negotiation with the Federation government. The initial plan was messed up, but it’s hard to believe that Cardeas would hand the Box over to a random passer-by. It’s natural to view you as someone related to the Foundation in someone, like for example…”

Frontal did not let go of the moment when Banagher inadvertently looked up, narrowed his eyes and continued, “Let’s say, you already were someone related to the Vist family…how about that?”

“Do I have a duty to answer?”

Banagher blurted out these words as his heart suddenly raced. Sharp footsteps could be heard as the young officer called Lieutenant Angelo walked towards Banagher. His hand suddenly reached for Bangher’s chest without warning.

His expression showed no signs of the old poker face as he showed real killing intent. In his old hometown, Banagher often saw people with some random problems showing such an expression out of a sudden as their faces overlapped with this young officer. As he felt this icy feeling from the bottom of his heart, Frontal interjected, “I said to stop it, Angelo.”

The tense-looking brows forced out wrinkles as he finally let go of Banagher grudgingly. His back was turned at Banagher, showing no signs of openings, and his footsteps obviously looked like he trained in this, but not enough to wipe off the first impression Banagher had of him—that he had a very bad background. Frontal waited for Angelo to return behind him, and silently continued, “You don’t have a duty to answer.”

“However, we still want information on the Box. It’s because of the factor that is Her Highness Mineva that we’re asking you in such a gentle manner. I hope you remember this.”

It was an obviously threatening line, and one that could give a chill. Banagher clenched his sweaty hands and answered, “That Mineva…Audrey once told me.”

“She said that the Box must not be handed over to Neo Zeon, or there’ll be another great war.”

“Oh.” Frontal merely continued without wavering, “If we consider what happened at “Industrial 7”, I would have the same feeling as he.” Banagher got up and tried to argue back.

“She’s the Princess of Zeon, right? If Audrey argues against it, why are you…”

“Then, do you believe in the existence of the Laplace Box?”

This was a question Banagher had never thought of. Frontal stared at the speechless Banagher as he gradually continued,

“Do you feel that no one had saw and validated the contents of the Box, whether it had the power to topple the Federation government?”

“Well…I don’t know. But I think there’ll be something like knowledge or information that could cause the world’s balance to collapse.”

“For example?”

“Like for example…how Zeon first let a space colony fall, or how they destroyed an asteroid and sent it to Earth to force it to freeze. It’s nothing after hearing it, but who would have expected such things to happen? The invention of nukes, and the horrifying wars that happened in the old ages…and it’s the same for the development of Minovsky Particles and mobile suits. They’re right beside us, yet no one noticed. A little invention or discovery will allow the world’s balance to change slightly…

Banagher did think of saying this when he was with Audrey before this, but even he was shocked that he could express himself so fluidly like this. “Correct.” Frontal again got up from his seat after concluding.

“This isn’t something that can be understood by memorizing a timeline. From the way you explain things, you should know that Spacenoids were once part of the civilian abandonment plan, right?”

An unexpected line was tossed right back at Banagher, causing him to answer back with only silence. Frontal left the office and walked with a stroll-like pace as he closed in on Banagher.

“In the past, Zeon Deikun once said that only those people who came to space could head for innovation. This meant that humanity got used to its environment and evolved…Newtypes. To the bureaucrats who sending the leftover population to space and remained on Earth, this thinking itself basically toppled their standpoint. That’s why they suppressed Zeonism and Side 3 that was promoting it. This is an example of what you say can cause the world to topple.”

The boots let out a tapping sound on the floor as he got behind Banagher, who was unable to turn behind.

“In the end, Zeon was assassinated, and the Zabi family rose up from it to build the Republic of Zeon. They chose to fight back the Federation government’s suppression with force. The ‘inventions’ of mobile suits and colony drop fighting was the result of the power given to Zeon Republic to match the Federation. Humanity lost half its population, but it could be seen as a deliberate reduction in population Gihren Zabi planned when he used racism to replace Zeonism.

Everyone knew right now that Zeon was killed by the Zabi family’s treachery. The Zeon Republic had such a crime, and after a year’s war, it fell defeated. However, this helped the Federation’s call, causing the Earth Central Administration to expand every day. The people who step into space would not be allowed back on Earth without the government’s permission. Despite each Side’s autonomous rule being recognized, the authority of the leaders were still held by the Central government. Spacenoids had basically no right to take part in politics when they could not elect the Senate Council. During this time, Earth continued to develop again under the name of recovering from the war, and 2 billion residents lived on space produce and food. In the end, the tens of billions of Spacenoids who were forced to migrate in order to let Earth recover naturally were still accomplices in destroying Earth.”

Frontal got behind Banagher as he said while sticking close to his nick. Banagher felt goosebumps by this jolt that basically felt like it was melting his body.

“Our Neo Zeon do have believers in the Zabi family’s customs. Some believed in Zeon Deikun’s ideals, and dreamed of building a real Republic of Zeon. However, their common goal is to change this twisted system. To break the shackle of the Federation, to fulfill self-autonomy for Spacenoids, we should—“

“BUT TERRORIST ATTACKS AREN’T TO GO!”

Banagher stopped the voice that was seeping through his pores as he yelled, “NO MATTER WHAT KIND OF LOGIC IT IS, IT’S NOT RIGHT TO ROB OTHER PEOPLE OF THEIR LIVES ONE-SIDEDLY. NO ONE HAS THAT RIGHT!”

He remembered that none of Micott’s friends were left alive, not even a fingernail as they were turned into dust, and their ugly corpses caused Banagher to puke. And then, there was that man—Cardeas Vist’s cooling blood. He felt these sensations that were still on his palms ''I’m not wrong here,'' Banagher told himself. ''Humans should live like humans and die like humans. I definitely can’t allow for other people to cut other people’s lives down like that.'' As he repeated this in his heart, Frontal’s presence near the neck left, and asked another question to make him doubt, “Then, what about you who fight with a Gundam?”

“If all military forces are full of guilt, you’re the same for using the “Gundam”. Because of you, we lost one of our precious soldiers.”

“Because of you…?”

Banagher was pushed away by an invisible hand as he felt that he tripped and missed his footing. “It was a stray shot, but you’re the one who shot it. This fact will not change.” Frontal continued as he walked back to the table. His back looked rather distorted, and Banagher felt that he was sliding into a bottomless abyss that opened below his feet as he merely stood there blankly. ''What is he saying? When did it happen? I didn’t feel that I hit any enemy suits. I was just squeezing the trigger in a mindless manner.''

''This me here, killed a person…''

“Call Zinnerman in.”

Frontal’s voice sounded rather distant. Banagher sensed that Angelo was picking up the internal phone, but his body and mind could not move. ''I have to think. I have to think of something before I’m swallowed into this bottomless abyss. '' The more he got anxious, the more his thoughts got erratic, and he knew that his fingertips were becoming cold and stiff. This shell called Banagher Links was collapsing, gradually becoming something else—

“You still have lots to learn. I hope you’ll understand more about us. After that, I’ll be grateful if you can become of outstanding assistance to us.”

Frontal said. He picked up the mask on the table, and seemingly at that moment, Zinnerman and Marida entered the room. ''Are both of them gasping because they just saw Frontal’s true appearance?'' A slight electric wave passed through Banagher’s mind as he wanted to turn to the duo behind him, but was unable to do move. During this time, he could tell that Marida’s arm was reaching for his shoulder, forcing him to turn back, and his rooted feet finally managed to take a step.

Banagher was dragged off like this as he was accosted to the archway-shaped doors. Right before he was about to pass it, it stopped, and turned back to look at Frontal at the table. He ignored Marida’s surprised stare as she stopped, and let out a hoarse voice, “Excuse me…”

“Are you Char Aznable?”

Zinnerman, who was standing beside him, frowned as he turned his stare to Frontal. Angelo shot a menacing glare to Banagher for a moment, only to turn his awaiting stare at the owner of the mask. Even Banagher himself was not sure why he asked such a thing. However, his thought of deciding things based on the response had not changed as he stared at Frontal who already had his mask on. Frontal focused his stare on the lone flower on the table,

“The me now stipulates myself as a vessel.”

“Vessel…?”

“This vessel here is used to carry the thoughts of the people who were abandoned into space, and inherit the grand wish of those who inherit Zeonism. If they hope for it, I’ll become Char Aznable. This mask exists for that.”

Frontal lifted his stare that was covered by the anti-glare mask and looked back at Banagher. The earnest expression was looking back at him, and for a short moment, he lost his voice. However, a mask was a mask, not a true face. ''Perhaps I might not have seen the true appearance of this man?'' Banagher recalled the beautiful blue eyes, and felt that he was following an illusion as he lost all strength to talk and walked out of the room.

Banagher glanced behind before the doors closed. The lips under the mask seemed to be smiling at the lone flower. The bright rose and Angelo’s heinous face showed a refreshing feeling beside the mask.

===Part 6===

The door was closed, and he inadvertently sighed. Angelo Sauper checked himself for feeling this unknown pressure, felt a little enraged, and asked Frontal beside him, “Is this alright?”

“Zinnerman’s experienced in this. Leave it to him.”

Frontal answered with an emotionless expression. Despite not talking too much, their thoughts could connect. Angelo felt relieved by how he could feel this like usual, and recalled that it was not the same when the boy was around, and felt incensed by this. ''The Captain actually left me out of focus when Banagher Links was around…''

“I’m more concerned about the Federation’s movements compared to this. According to how the situation goes, we may have to abandon this palce.”

Angelo did not know if his feelings reached Frontal who stated some pragmatic things. He said, “He…as in “Palau, Sir?” he asked.

“That mobile suit has something to do with the Box alright. Once the mobile suit got taken away, the Federation will be desperate. It’s correct to view that the political safety “Palau” offers has disappeared.”

“You mean the Federation will take action here?”

“A very high possibility. They’re probably try attacking here in a full-scale battle.”

''From the number of ships moving in and out of “Palau”, there’s a high chance that the Federation casted us away. A weak group must remain tense in order to maintain a large and fat organization. The thrill of them attacking with a weak attitude is enough. It’s about to begin. The time to shed the sheepskin of Federation ‘management’ has come. The time for the Neo Zeon army to revive has arrived.'' Angelo secretly held back the rising sensation in him as he stared at this man who should be the king of the New World. Frontal took the rose and put it near his lips, lowering his head as he continued, “How’s the investigations of the “Unicorn” goin?”

“We’re using the information Anaheim provided. We’re analyzing the OS at this moment.”

“NT-D…they call it the Newtype-Drive, is it? It’s fishy.”

Angelo though it was the smell of the rose at that moment as he let out a voice “Eh?” At this moment, Frontal got up, and said,

“Anaheim said that it was a mobile suit designed based from the data of the “Sinanju”, but I don’t think that’s it. I could feel a form of madness from that “Gundam”. Tell them to hurry up with their analysis. Maybe Cardeas Vist handed the key of the Box to an unbelievable monster.”

Frontal slowly handed over the rose in his hands over to Angelo, and did not look at him as he left. The reliable shoulders were showing fatigue. “Yes!” Angelo straightened his back as he watched Frontal leave from the office. The crimson red bed left the archway doors, and once his back disappeared from the closing doors, Angelo finally looked back at the rose he received.

In this quarry satellite, it was hard to obtain even a stalk of rose. This was ordered from the florist the superintendent used, and sent from neighboring colonies to be grown here. It was Angelo’s job to put the rose on Frontal’s table everyday. ''Did The Captain notice that I’m the one who chose the vase?'' Angelo suddenly thought as he turned his stare to the vase that was standing there in a lonely manner, and recalled the ‘vessel’ Frontal said before.

“He’s so tired, and yet wants to bear the fate of the world…”

Angelo looked back at the rose in his hands. The deep red petals that marveled the shortness of life exerted its will in a suffocating manner. ''The Captain’s color… the color of flames that burned his body. This is the color of that man who saw the abyss of this space, and is coming back to this world with destiny on his back.'' Angelo suddenly could not control his impulses as he crushed the stem of the rose with all he got.

“He actually let that kind of boy see his true appearance…!”

The blood that dripped from his fist flowed down the stem, staining the floor.

===Part 7===

The toughness of the hand that held his back was trained through guns. Daguza Mackle felt relieved by this usual strength.

“it’s been a while, Daguza Squad’s commander. You’re looking rather bad there, aren’t you?”

The Arabian ethnicity was shown on Commander Nasri Razal’s black skin as he showed an earnest smile. He was 43 years old, short, but had a firm body that looked rather lively, and he was definitely competent in leading the strong warriors of ECOAS. Daguza covered his left arm that had a cast on it as he answered, “Don’t mention it.”

“Unlike you, I’m working hard here.”

“That’s called reaping what you sow. You’re too serious. Isn’t it the same as the mock battle before? What’s with you? Common sense says that you have to go easy if there’s no General here to obvious.”

“I feel that we did go easy.”

“You sure can say that. Our squad was messed around by yours. I’ll pay this debt soon.”

Speaking till here, Nasri kept his smile and tapped his boots, giving a solid salute. “ECOAS 729 reporting with Nasri Razal and 24 members. We shall now join forces with ECOAS 920 as of this moment.” Daguza too raised his hand to salute back at Nasri’s energetic voice. At this moment, Nasri’s forces were moving in machinery as a “Loto” suspended by cables was moving up to the mobile suit deck in tank form. Daguza put his hand down and looked at the machinery being moved in together with Nasri who ended his salute.

[[Image:KSGU4 054.png|thumb]]

The vehicle with the squad serial number 729 etched on it was a long-ranged support type with two barrels of cannons protruding out. Daguza was relieved to see the backup equipment they requested, and a few ECOAS members were surrounding the vehicle to check on it. The “Loto” being moved in was equipped with 4 rapid-fire Gatling cannons, and including the ammunition, all sorts of supplies were being loaded on the deck. Daguza confirmed these as he heaved a sigh of relief while Nasri did not realize it. ''Despite these formalities, such equipment won’t be enough. But at least we have a minimum amount of preparation. Our side is finally released from being on standby in this shoal space region, and now we can think of the next step—''

It had been 72 hours since they fought Neo Zeon twice. This thought was prevalent amongst the crew who were on the Nahel Argama as well. They looked up at the equipment that was passing through the two suspensions hanging near the ceiling towards the access gateway, looking like they missed their friends as they moved around the mobile suit deck. The ECOAS reinforcements that were following Nasri stood right behind. There were 4 carriers and all sorts of spare parts used to repair the severely damaged ship. The supply ship that was connected to this ship was able to send these goods over, and the empty mobile suit deck became a lot livelier. The portside catapult that was blown off could not be saved, but the ship’s repair was not bad enough to cause much of a problem, so they should be able to get away from their current drifting state.

However, they would have to see if the Senate Council gave any unreasonable commands or not before everyone could relax. It was rather efficient of them to be able to prepare such a resupply in such a short time, including their beloved ECOAS, but even the Senate Council’s orders would not be enough for this mobilization. Leaving aside the ECOAS “Loto”, they had only 5 working mobile suits in this ship. The ship’s repairs were done on those parts that would be used in battle. “I saw it from the outside. You were wrecked.” Nasri said, and it did not seem like sarcasm to Daguza.

“The mobile suit deck is basically empty…common sense wise, I feel that we should dock first, but the higher-ups want us to continue fighting in this situation?”

“Do you feel uneasy?”

“Nope. We’re just hear for a ride and wreck some stuff. It has nothing to do with our operation.”

The fearless expression was hidden in Nasri’s black eyes as his beard-covered lips were curled up, “Then, where do you want us to start work?”

Daguza’s Squad 920, Nasri’s 729. The organization’s history was not little in any sense, but it was the first time in history that two squads of ECOAS would be working together. Daguza saw Nasri shake things off with a relaxed expression, and was about to talk about the operation strategy they never mentioned before, only to hear an excited voice, “AWESOME! IT’S THE “HYAKU SHIKI!” Daguza and Nasri both looked over.

The young man was wearing a navy-blue colored jumper and jeans as he kicked the container and glided through the docking gate. It was one of the civilians being held on board, and as Daguza recalled that his name was probably Takuya Irei, a middle-aged NCO growled “OI! DON’T JUST RUN IN HERE LIKE THIS!” as he followed in, causing Daguza to look over at where both of them were heading to. An unfamiliar mobile suit was moved inside at the large docking gate that was 20m long.

It was a streamlined human-shaped mobile suit that was colored grey. The unit was made in the streamlined Federation unit style, but it did not look as rigid as the “Jegan” or the “ReZELs”. The complicate and intricate design on the surface had a slenderness that was more like a human body. The machine had two binders that were upright, and it resembled an Archangel the way the wings were closed. What was more characteristic however was the head, as what looked like a visor on the eyes was installed on the face. It looked to be a dual-eye sensor, and made this mobile suit’s ‘face’ resemble a “Gundam”.

“That is?”

“I hear that it’s one of the prototype transformable units. They probably dragged it out from the bottom of the warehouse to make up numbers. I think it’s called “Delta Plus” or something…”

Nasri answered as he did not look at the mobile suit, but at Takuya who did not look like a soldier. “What’s with that?” He showed a stern expression as he answered, and Daguza let out a three-day worth of sigh.

“We got involved in a lot of things…”

''Where should we begin?'' As Daguza was thinking about this, Daguza had already climbed up to the top of the “Delta Plus”, inspecting the visor that reached the ceiling and the cockpit. The NCO grabbed onto his leg, but was unable to look away from the shiny new machine. “What the heck? Who put this mobile suit with low interchangeability into this ship?” The NCO grumbled, “This is a dream machine. It’s one of the Hyaku-type machines in the Z testing projects. If the transformation is complete, it can be really somewhat powerful.” Takuya lectured, and the NCO frowned as he said, “Isn’t that Z project 10 years ago or something…” “TAKUYA!” A sharp voice rang throughout the deck.

“What are you doing there? We’re moving out once the movement is complete. Hurry up and get ready.”

The NCO too was shocked by this voice that was let out by Micott Bartsch. She was wearing light yellow parka and hot pants that would definitely not be seen on a military ship. Her nice long legs were exposed as she got over the container beside her and let her feet land on the deck, not waiting for Takuya, “Even if you tell me that, I have nothing to prepare!” as he reluctantly left the machine. As they passed by each other, Micott suddenly looked at Daguza near here.

She gasped in shock, and looked away. The stiff face showed a gloomy expression, just like how it was when she ‘leaked the information’. This act triggered quite the chemical reaction, causing Micott’s friend to be on the brink of danger. ''I don’t know how she’s handling this reality.'' Daguza did not think too much into these as another voice interrupted, “Are you two ready?” He looked over at the source of this voice, and saw the petite figure of Ensign Mihiro Oiwakken, who was assigned to take care of the civilians, about to land on the deck.

As Mihiro looked over at Micott, she did not look at Daguza’s and company, trying her best to look away from the ECOAS members in this precarious situation. She grabbed the rooted Micott on the shoulder and said, “Come on. You don’t have to stay here any longer.” as she left the scene. Daguza sighed as he saw them leave without turning back, and watched Takuya, who once glanced at him, leave. ''That’s fine. We’re the ones guilty here—we, ECOAS, used the ‘leaked information’ to use a hostage and carried out a despicable battle. Just hate me as long as you don’t blame youself…''

“Looks like you really got involved in a lot of things.”

Nasri watched the trio leave as he said with an expression of different meaning. On hearing this voice Daguza shrugged at this man who understood ECOAS’ standpoint very well.

===Part 8===

(To be honest, even I was shocked when your father contacted us. Nobody would specially check on a carrier unit pilot’s background after all.)

Ted Cherenkov’s said unabashedly from the other side of the communicator monitor. His 50-year-old face that was tanned by playing golf looked to be a standard sample for those affiliated to the Senate Council. There were all sorts of medals on his secondary uniform. ''Some great person you are. It’s right for you to be lazy to check after all.'' Riddhe suppressed the voice within his heart as he answered with a cold voice, “Yes…”

(I did hear news that you were deployed to Londo Bell. But I didn’t expect that you’ll be assigned to the Nahel Argama. Your reassignment order will be sent over, so just get away from there. A prince of a senator shouldn’t be involved in a secret mission.)

The Admiral said casually as if he wanted someone to return home due to bad weather. Riddhe however was not shocked by this line that was without consideration about the current situation. He already expected it when he was called to this second communication room after the supply ship “Alaska” was docked with it. This was the reply he got when he sent the mail on behest of the captain before the battle against the Red Comet. His father exerted pressure to save the foolish and reckless prodigal son—not considering about his son’s feelings as he wanted to draw a clear line from this ‘family’. Riddhe had his own life, but his father did not care that his son had some things he would not give up when it came to Life.

''It’s always like this. Dad always has a wide vision, always asking me to see the big picture, and yet won’t understand the world his own son sees. The one correct is always dad, and he’ll use power to override everything despite it being a mistake.'' Admiral Ted’s lips resembled that of Riddhe’s own father, causing him to give a stare at the monitor without backing off. ''I have to fulfill a duty and responsibility as someone involved—'' He recalled the words the girl said half a day ago as he spoke “Thank you for your kind intentions, but I’m still a pilot of the Nahel Argama.”

“This has nothing to do with whose son I am. Right now, the squad’s worn out due to continuous battles. As a Federation soldier, if I leave the ship like this…”

(We’ve sent reinforcements. Just swap over with them.)

Admiral Ted’s answer was completely listless as he completely lacked attention to this conversation…or rather, this admiral might not have thought of him as a person. He was just looking at the shadow behind his back—the authority of Senator Ronan Marcenas. Riddhe felt the emptiness of talking to a wall as he yelled, “WHY ONLY ME…!” but Admiral Ted remained unmoved as he said formally, (It’s not just you.)

(We’ll be taking back the civilians from “Industrial 7”, and the prisoner from Neo Zeon, of course.)

“Are you talking about… Mineva Zabi?”

(I’m talking about the prisoner. Don’t say that taboo name so easily.)

For once, Admiral Ted showed nervousness in his eyes as he said with a stiff voice. Mineva Zabi herself was not to be disclosed, and her existence was deemed ‘political’. The girl’s voice rang in Riddhe’s mind again, rendering him speechless. Admiral Ted coughed to create a short pause, and continued, (Anyway, these people will be sent to the Moon. You’ll follow them too.)

(There’re people from the Intelligence Department on the “Alaska”, so leave the prisoner to them. Don’t ask any further.)

“Then what about the civilians? They…”

(Will be treated as those who violated confidentiality and dealt as appropriate. You have no need to be involved with them)

Violated confidentiality. This unfamiliar term caused Riddhe’s heart to cool down. The mobile suit maniac Takuya and that mysteriously bewitching girl Micott could not be isolated from ‘politics’ any longer. ''What will happen to them once they’re moved to the Moon?'' Riddhe understood that the Nahel Argama’s directions and everything else was going just as Mineva descrived. He clenched his fists on his knees. Ted lowered his stare slightly and said somewhat awkwardly, (It’s because of your father that I’m talking to you like this.)

(You’re still young. Forget about everything you saw or heard there. From now on, this is the world of politics.)

Even if you’re the son of a political maestro, this thing isn’t at a level where a pilot can resist—the Admiral’s expression showed this. ''That’s right.'' Riddhe muttered. He knew, physiologically, that this mentality should not exist in his body that was no longer in the teens. ''As someone who has to fulfill his duty and responsibility—I have to do something I can and what I must do.'' He had determination that was about to take shape, and lifted his head as he said, “Please just tell me one thing.”

“Where will the Nahel Argama go after this?”

Hm. Ted sighed as he raised his loose chin.

===Part 9===

““Palau”, the civilian resource satellite that belonged to Side 6. The Intelligence Branch concluded that the RX-0 was transported here.”

Alberto smirked as he handed the monitor sheets to them, looking at their expressions. Otto Mitas gave a meaningful look as he pulled up the uniform cap that was worn below his stare, and took up one of the monitor sheets on the table.

The B4 sized monitor sheet that felt like film showed the exterior image of “Palau”. It was a middle-sized quarry satellite located on L1, and could be described as floating in the outer regions of the shoal space region. Another monitor sheet showed the colony association’s internal plans, while another one showed the actual internal construct from the observations—the locations of the military port, the number of ships docked there, the types, and even where the command post was—all described in 3D CG details. No matter what anyone thought, this was not data that could be obtained within a mere two days.

“The conclusion sure came fast…”

Otto said these sarcastic words as he put the monitor sheet that had changed back to its original size back on the table. ''You’re saying that this is the data obtained from optical observation tracking of the enemy ships? What a joke. The Senate Council definitely knew of this base the “Sleeves” have, for years even. The government already knew that Neo Zeon was recuperating in “Palau” ever since “Char’s Counterattack” ended 3 years ago. It’s already there, but politically, it’s just treated as a Zeon remnant base that they couldn’t see—and the reason why they can see it is because of a more powerful political force called the Laplace Box taking effect.''

“This is the results obtained from the military and the Intelligence Branch. This shows that they do feel this operation rather seriously.”

Alberto said while ignoring these snide remarks. ''I really can’t tell whether this man understands that his actions already caused the RX-0 to be lost.'' Otto was not the only one who thought this way as all the main cadres in the officers’ room were surrounding the long table as they thought this way, but the fat face of this commanding subordinate in a suit showed no signs of wavering. Everyone was giving looks of suspicion and hatred at Alberto, and the “impossible” line came from the chief operator, sparking a debate.

“You want to use the Nahel Argama, one ship, to take down a base? This requires a fleet to do so.”

“The ones leading the attack is ECOAS. As everyone knows, the reinforcements for this operation have arrived. It’s unprecedented for the ECOAS, who can take many on their own, to send 2 squads to fight together…”

“Where are the other ships? The Nahel Argama isn’t going to endure another battle like this.”

“Do we have a chance of winning? If we want to get back the RX-0, we can’t just suppress from the outside. It’s imperative that we do some mass destruction to prevent the enemy from attacking us.”

“We can only land and attack once the ship’s forces surround and fire. We only have 5 mobile suits, including the reinforcements. We need to go all out just to defend a ship, let alone support ECOAS.”

The well-experienced navigation officer finished, and everyone stared at the Captain who was sitting at a higher level. He emphasized his tone, “Are you convinced, Captain?” causing Otto, who had his arms folded, to jerk.

“Things have already passed the extents the counter terrorist laws have. If we really want to attack the base, we need to gather everyone from Londo Bell. I think the Senate Council is just asking us to die in battle.”

“We haven’t even mourned for those died in battle…”

The eyes that were bloodshot with rage and fatigue were looking back at him with the uniform cap. Otto felt that it was reasonable for everyone’s attitude to be like this as he looked down and would not face any other stare. The Nahel Argama would be fighting alone in this operation to reclaim the RX-0. Otto had never heard of such an unreasonable order in his entire space military career. It was bad enough that they lacked fighting resources, and at this point, many of the ships they asked for were being used for training–just like how the Nahel Argama was a few days ago. The reason why the ships were not gathered was because the Senate Council was not willing to bring matters to the surface, and such political considerations had no relations to the worn out crew.

“Because of this, we invested a large sum of money training two squads of special forces.”

Alberto continued while maintaining his usual iron-wall like thick-skinned face, “We’ve already sent in as much manpower under this secret mission. Please don’t forget that this is the result of the backhand dealings our Anaheim Electronics here has done.”

“NO ONE’S ASKING YOU ANYTHING!?”

“IT’S BECAUSE OF YOU THAT THE RX-0 GOT TAKEN!”

The thoroughly incensed cadres all stared over at Alberto, and the subordinates behind him froze up. Alberto hesitated as he tried to speak up, “It’s because of me that this ship wasn’t ship…” But Otto immediately got off his seat to interrupt him.

Everyone, who had been looking at each other, turned their stare on Otto, causing the atmosphere in the room to tense up. Otto took the shocked and expectant stares, and lowered his cap below his sights and said “I’ll be back immediately.” before leaving.

He walked out of the officers’ room while bearing the awkward atmosphere that did not allow for any depressed emotions. “Is he going to complain to HQ?” “He’s going to the toilet, isn’t he?” The cadres chattered, yet they sounded so shrill to Otto.

===Part 10===

Otto moved to the corridor of the gravity block, and took the elevator. There was still a while before the swap of duties happened, so not a lot of people who would use the elevator. He checked the time, closed the elevator doors, did not touch the operator panels, and merely took a deep breath through his nose and roared,

“DAMN IT!”

This roar that rose up from his abdomen rocked the inner walls of the elevator. The voice was so loud that anyone would feel that it could pass through the shaft leading to the bridge and seep out of the Nahel Argama, which was moving in the middle of space. Otto could not contain the smoldering bitterness within him, and could not feel relieved, so he continued to kick the wall with all he had and punch it. The blunt impact sounds rocked the elevator several times, stopping at the cramped box that had no openings.

''What reinforcements? What secret operation? Those guys from the Senate Council never believed that this operation will succeed. They’re just pretending to do something to help create an excuse for their failures. The “Nahel Argama” and ECOAS are just being used to create alibis for them. We’re being used by the government as tools to show that they ‘did their best here.''

It was too idealistic to say that everyone was being sent to their deaths here. The Box, and Mineva Zabi; this ship kept getting involved in troublesome situations, such that they might as well just sink it. If the crew survive…the captain would just be reassigned somewhere else, and the crew will be broken up through other means, scattered all over the place and live the rest of their lives while being observed. Even if they complain that they were being punished unjustly, nobody would listen to them. If Neo Zeon had the Box and attacks them furiously, things would change. But to the big shots, they would be very satisfied with an outcome that meets their expectations, and it was unlikely that they would think that far ahead. They would try to prevent an all-out conflict and maintain an economic standard that was based on military reinstatement. Londo Bell would head the other way while hunting down the remnants of Zeon, those on the other side would use a political adjustment ‘crisis’ to keep acting—

They could no longer hope for the assistance of Senator Marcenas. If they disobeyed and escaped, things would not change. Otto wanted to just break up from the Senate Council itself and surrender to Neo Zeon, but he could not allow himself to do this as he was a captain who had many subordinates die under him. He continued to search his mind that was being cornered, and let his emotions explode in the elevator. At this moment, the elevator door opened, causing Otto to miss as his body tumbled outself.

The two figures stood outside the elevator, showing shocked expressions. Otto immediately grabbed onto the door and barely managed to avoid tumbling to the floor, but his heart felt despair again after seeing their faces. He hurriedly picked himself up, kept still, quickly tidied himself up, and coughed first to clear things up.

First Officer Liam and Commander Daguza blinked for just a moment as they stepped forward in unison, probably pretending not to see the captain’s shameful act in order to save his dignity. ''To be seen by these two of all people.'' Otto cringed back as he felt his fingertips turn red. He tried to return back to the officers’ room, but Liam called out ‘captain’, causing him to stop.

“I heard of the order from the Senate Council. What do you intend to do?”

Liam raised her thick eyelids as she stared at Otto, but it was a rare sight for Daguza to stand by both of them in common agreement, giving a usual machine-like poker face. Otto wondered what else they would think of as he answered with a low voice, “What else can we do?”

“An order’s an order. We can only follow it. This has something to do with the Box that decides the Fate of the world after all.”

Otto really wanted to leave the scene this time as he fully comprehended the irony he would be enacting, “I have no disagreements with this.” but Daguza’s voice caught up with Otto, causing him to stop.

“But we’ll view this operation as a hostage rescue.”

These unexpected words caused Otto to show an unexpected expression to Daguza behind him, “Hostage rescue…?” Otto repeated, and remembered the face of the boy who rode the “Gundam” and rushed out of the ship. Banagher Links shook of the pressure the adults bore on him and only cared about fighting it head on. Daguza showed an affirmative expression to Liam, and took one step closer to Otto.

“We still owe him one. We’ll do what we can do. I remember this ship has a hyper-mega particle cannon, right?”

Liam stood beside the sincere looking Daguza, and nodded with a determined expression that was never seen before. Otto turned towards them completely, indicating that he was willing to listen to them.

===Part 11===

The Universal Century was about to reach the 100-year mark at this moment, but humanity still did not find a way to control gravity. The generation of centrifuge force within the inner walls of the large rotating domess was the maximum they could go with the current limits of technology. In this sense, humanity were creatures who had not progressed at all since the old century.

It was necessary to insert a rotating domes inside the satellite if they wanted to build a living environment in the mining satellite, and “Palau” was no exception to this. The inside of the asteroid had a domes 1.6km in diameter and 3km long buried inside, and the living space for civilians was built inside. Amongst the 4 connecting stone blocks, the largest of them was the triangular shaped asteroid Calyx, which had two living areas inside. No matter which world they were at, there was a difference in class. If there was an Uppertown with a Government House as center, the other living block would naturally be the Downtown where the miners were, and people were divided in these two areas based on their statuses. On a side note, the 3 blocks connected to the “Calyx” were called “Corolla”, each designated as A, B, C. It could be said that the 3 blocks that were connected were shaped like a flower.

There was no difference in the construct between the Uppertown and the Downtown, but “Palau” had its own unique characteristic. In other words, there was a cutter drill installed at the tip of the dome that could create a centrifuge force and dig into the asteroid’s bedrock. It would be apt to describe it as a large shield machine.

The residents of “Palau” built their homes in this very large cutter machine and built towns, forming their social quarters. When the men head out to excavate at the main shaft, the women would stay behind to choose the rocks that were dug or make homemade goods to pass the day. This would be said to be type of life where they do their jobs to the extreme—no, it should be more accurate to say that they were recreating the tough life of being a pioneer. When the Space Migration plan was started, the ones who were sent to work on this asteroid were mostly criminals, refugees or political criminals who opposed the government. They were not allowed to return back to Earth, and could only raise their children under such harsh conditions and end their careers while covered in dust…

“Well, there seemed to be some pulmonary disease or social caste discrimination before, stuff that were really suited for proletariat education. But that’s during our grandfathers’ time. Right now, they’re schools, hospitals around, and even the latest information can be obtained. We’re free to head to other colonies too. Some are still poor but the rest aren’t any different from the other places either.”

Gilboa said carefully, but he did not forget to quip in at the end, “But discrimination itself hasn’t disappeared.” At this point, the shield machine was not working, and it was said that most of the men were working outside to support the expenses of their families. Banagher was brought to this Downtown residential block after he met Frontal, and simply stepped into this town called “Palau” that gave a certain carefree vibe. The place was 1.6km in diameter, and the length was half of an ordinary colony. The width was similar to the “Snail”, but this place was just like “Industrial 7” in that it was built such that the artificial sun would spin and let out sun rays, so it did not feel as packed as a miniature garden. The sky had brown clouds floating on it, and green pastures could be seen all over the winner wall. However, what felt mysterious was that one part of the airtight wall was covered with a rocky layer.

In any ordinary colony, the airtight walls located on both sides of the dome would generate dirt, creating a scene that they would call a ‘hill’, but this scene was different from them. The front end of this living block was the cutter drill that was inserted into the asteroid. This machine had not been used for many years, and became one with the ground. The 1.6km long cutter managed to drill into the rocky surface, and that scene was different from an ordinary colony. The shield machine created a sense of pressure that could not be removed, and the crudely made unit houses in the town helped to sight, creating the impression that the entire town was a worker dormitory.

The poor citizens managed to make ends meet by relying on the Neo Zeon army. Banagher recalled the overly glamorous constructs in the command post, and created the impression of dejected looking people in his heart. However, this was overturned the moment he reached his destination.

“Ah, it’s daddy!” “Daddy’s back!” Such excited voices could be heard once he opened the door, and Gilboa opened his arms wide as he greeted them “Oi, kiddos!” With the boy who was about 10 years old leading the pack, there were 4…no, 5 children, wearing tattered clothes that looked like they were going to be torn apart. These children came running out from the shadows of the old furniture, looking like a pack of mice that were kept and bred. As Banagher gave a puzzled look, another voice rang, “Big Sis Marida’s here too!”, and a 6th girl came running out from under the table.

The children that were gathered around Gilboa then leapt towards Marida behind him, “Oi oi oi, you prefer her to daddy here? How depressing!” The children ignored Gilboa who remarked this wryly as they hugged Marida’s legs and started climbing up her. Marida herself kept the usual non-smiling expression on her face as she pulled aside a child clinging onto her and grabbed another on the ankle, making them upside down. Banagher felt that this was too violent, but to the children, this looked rather fun as a black little girl squealed “I want it too!” “Me too!” another child’s voice could be heard.

''What exactly is going on here?'' The rising dust blurred Banagher’s vision, but he continued to stare inquisitively into this neat and tidy room. A lady then spoke up, “You’re back. Are you and Marida hurt?” causing him to blink. A black woman who looked to be in her late thirties showed her face from a rusted pillar. Gilboa raised his hand, causing the peaceful looking housewife to smile brightly as she stepped on the creaking floor and moved towards him. “Captain too.” That woman said as she looked over, and Banagher too looked back. Zinnerman was standing outside the door, looking rather shy as he raised his head.

Marida did not look at Banagher any further as she silently carried the children upside down. Banagher was more affected by how she showed a gentle expression for the first time rather than the abnormal arm strength. Zinnerman then turned around and said, “I’ll leave it to you then.” before leaving from the corridor. “Where’s this kid from?” the woman asked as she looked at Banagher, who heard Gilboa’s answer, “We have to take care of this kid for the time being because of some reasons.” Banagher inadvertently stepped on the floor and left the scene, and though his feet were slowed by the dust blown onto the ground, “Captain…Mr Zinnerman!” he called out to the back silhouette that was gradually moving away.

Zinnerman, who was dressed in a black military leather coat, stood in the middle of the roaring winds as he stopped. The blond man called Flaste too stopped, giving a somewhat menacing look at Banagher, but Banagher did not have the mind to care about him. He stood on the street that was surrounded by unit houses like Gilboa’s house on both sides, and faced Zinnerman’s black eyes.

“What’s going on? Bringing me to such a place…”

“We can’t find any other suitable places. As you see, they're kids in there, but there’s still enough space to let you live there…”

“That’s not what I’m saying…! Why am I not in a cell or something?”

“Do you feel that’s better?”

And just like the first time they met, he gave a stare of killing intent to Banagher, “This is just a makeshift, right?” Banagher showed his stumped expression to them and said.

“Are you saying that poverty and discrimination will breed terrorists? Even if you let me see this and make me one of your allies…”

A sharp and hot pain struck Banagher’s face, causing his sights to spin. ''I got punched.'' Banagher understood this as his body flew to the floor, and his face soon landed on the dusty ground.

“Don’t be mistaken.”

Zinnerman used his other hand to cup the fist that he rewarded Banagher with as he said with a deep voice. Banagher caught sight of that face in his blurred sights.

“Don’t think you’ll be forgiven for anything just because you’re a kid. Adults are more violent then what you know.”

These words struck Banagher’s sub-consciousness right on the mark as his numb and hurting face was burning with shame. He used his fingertips to wipe away with the blood on his lips, and wordlessly stared at the back of Zinnerman’s face.

“You just think you know, but you don’t know anything at all. Stay here and learn.”

Zinnerman left these words behind as he walked off again. He was not concerned about Flaste, who glanced back at Banagher once, and put his hands into his large coat pockets and left gradually. Banagher spat out the sand that was mixed with blood in his mouth, and finally managed to straighten his swaying knees. ''He tells me to learn here, but what?'' He mused in his heart and used his hand to touch the heat on his face. At this moment, a voice came from behind, “I was told this before.”

Marida suddenly appeared, dressed in the crimson red uniform as she stood behind Banagher. Her eyes looked past him, staring at Zinnerman who was about to disappear at the alleys. Banagher saw Marida’s somewhat depressed looking eyes and wondered, ''What kind of relationship to they have…Banagher thought of the guess he had before, only to cringe as he heard the voices “Bye bye!” “See you!”. 3 children came running out from Gilboa’s house and ran towards the front yard that was so small in space that even an electric car could not stop there.

Banagher looked back at them, and found that the trio’s skin colors were different. He realized that they seemed to be children who came from nearby to play, and a girl with her hair tied said, “Will you be here tomorrow, Big Sis Marida?” Banagher looked over at her, who answered, ”Yeah, I’ll be here.” She answered, and the girl’s face immediately showed absolutely delight as she looked at the children around her with a shy expression. “Then, see you tomorrow.” “Bye bye.” The children left their energetic voices behind as they ran through the alleys like a gust of wind.

Marida gently raised her hand as she watched them leave, and once the children vanished, she looked at Banagher with a cold expression. “Go in. The nights in “Palau” end early.” She quickly finished, and left Banagher aside as she went straight back to Gilboa’s house. He stared at her long hair that swayed with the wind, looked back at the artificial sun that was definitely turning dark, and finally looked at the street that was about to be buried in sand. Banagher felt like he could immediately escape from here…but he did not know how to head to the port, and did not feel that he could snatch the “Unicorn” back easily. Marida and everyone else could walk about in their uniforms, and this showed that this was a land where all the residents here followed Neo Zeon. No matter where he ran, things would not change, and he would be brought back here in the end.

''So, I’m still being restrained?'' Banagher sighed slightly as he looked up at the ‘hill’ from past several low-rise houses. The long and large cutter of the shield machine extended right into the tip, making the ‘hill’ look like it was a material supporting the airtight wall from the inside. The ‘hill’ had gust of dusts blowing all over it, different from the colonies Banagher had been seeing, let alone a tree. However, he could only look up and this rocky layer that was completely bare. There was a brown dust-colored mist floating near the axis that could not interfere with the center of axis, giving a mysterious presence that could not be approached.

''There’s no universe over there, just a thick layer of compressed rock gathered after millions of years.'' Banagher thought as he felt that the chances of him escaping was getting slimmer and slimmer, and stopped looking at the ‘hill’. Out of options, he intended to head back to Gilboa’s house, only to notice a stare coming from the alley. It was the girl with tied hair who greeted Marida before, staring at Banagher with wide black eyes.

His eyes met hers, and she bared her teeth that had missing incisors as she made a face before running off. '' The citizens here are all soldiers…is it?'' Banagher rubbed his face that was punched and walked back to the corridor.

===Part 12===

Despite reducing 3 people from 6, there was still 3 of them. The 3 children, the Gilboa couple, Banagher and Marida made it so packed that they had to watch out from each other when they move in such a narrow place. There might not be a need to think about this too much when the children were running around, but they had to be carefully when they pull their chairs or do something else.

Some, like Gilboa, had their rooms in “Palau”, but most of the crew, including Flaste, stayed in the dormitory at the port, and it was said that Zinnerman would not leave the “Garencieres” even when docked. It seemed that Marida lived at Gilboa’s house, and there was a bed for her at the children’s room on the second floor. However, according to the mother, Marida would not spent more than 5 days living there during a month.

“I was requested by the Captain there. That man’s in his fifties, and the rest are mostly singles, so he can’t just leave a girl like Marida to them. She’s been living here for almost 2 years. I do feel that she can live on her own, but the kids keep sticking to her. It doesn’t matter if I do so in the first place.”

Gilboa’s wife said this as she prepared dinner without anyone asking her. ''What does it mean when she says that Marida can’t be alone? Is Marida a prisoner here too? Stay here and learn. I was told this before—''the words Banagher heard before suddenly bore weight, causing Banagher to glance secretly and Marida who was accompanying the children, but he did not want to ask her. ''There’s no need to know. She’s different from me.'' He told his mind that may relax at any time, and silently went through a frustrating moment.

It was finally time for dinner, and the dining table, which took up most of the living space, was laid out with 7 persons’ share. It consisted of sautéed rabbit, soup, bread, and a potato salad that was piled up like a hill. The rabbits were reared in “Palau”, and they seemed to be the main source of protein for the residents. Ignoring the contents of the dishes alone, the sight of the dinner table in front of Banagher could be said to be majestic. He, who grew up with only his mother, did not know anything about his relatives, and never experienced seeing 7 people’s faces at the dining table. Banagher did go to a buffet restaurant when he was studying at AEIC, but never once had he experienced a mood where everyone sat close to each other and ate

The sense that was seemingly unfamiliar and never used before was activated. Banagher’s appetite got the better of all other unspeakable feelings within him as he reached for the bread once Gilboa got to the table. At this moment, everyone put their elbows on the table, cupped their hands, and a moment of silence descended upon the dining room.

“Lord, thank you for the meal today.”

Gilboa said silently, and his wife and children said “Amen”. As Banagher followed them by cupping his hands, the children had already started tucking in. Marida too split her hands casually and took her fork and spoon. Banagher did see this in a move before, but he never expected a family to really pray before handing a meal. He blinked, and reached for the bread again. The extremely hard feeling made him wonder uneasily whether he could eat it.

A gust blew by the streets, causing the windows to rattle, and the pendant light that was weak swayed. If no one adjusted the artificial flow stronger, the sand would probably accumulate on each other. Each dish had a heavy taste, maybe because it was due to their lifestyle that required more manual labor. Banagher silently put the food into his mouth, and suddenly looked at the window that continued to ring.

''How many of these families are hearing such winds while gathered around the dinner table quickly—and amongst them, there will be people who will be mourning for those who will never come back and those who will never hear anything.'' Banagher’s mind, which was relaxed because of the food, had these thoughts, and he felt his hand holding the spoon was giving off sweating. He wiped of the sweat that started appearing on his forehead profusely and tried to gather his concentration on the food. “Are you from the Federation, Big Brother?” One of the children asked as Banagher put the spoonful of soup into his mouth, unable to taste anything at that moment.

The one who spoke was the oldest boy amongst the trio. He continued to give an inquisitive look to Banagher despite Gilboa glaring at him, telling him to eat quietly. As his younger brother and sister lifted their faces to give quizzing looks at him, Banagher glanced at Marida, who continued to move her hands as she had no intent of stopping her meal. He suddenly felt enraged by some unknown thing inside him, pour the tasteless soup into his mouth, “Yeah, that’s right.” and said in a straightforward manner.

“I was dragged over by the people here forcefully.”

Banagher sensed that Gilboa stopped what he was doing, and that his wife was looking over at Banagher, but he had no intent of caring, “Are you a prisoner?” The boy asked, and Banagher answered with a depressed voice, “Maybe.”

“If that’s the case, it’s great that you’re our prisoner. You won’t get food to eat if you’re a prisoner of the Federation. You’ll even get interrogated.”

“Tikva, don’t talk as you eat.” His mother said. Logic told Banagher not to be bothered by him, but it was wasted, “The Federation won’t do that.” Banagher said.

“They will. Daddy told us before that he was a prisoner during the One Year War, and the captain saved him from his detainment.”

This boy called Tikva stared at his father who should be a one and only hero as he continued. Banagher glanced secretly at Gilboa’s weakly chiding expression as he did not intend to continue. Banagher said, “…Maybe such things happened.” as he reached for the bread.

“A lot of people had their families and friends killed by Zeon too.”

The Gilboa couple stopped again, and the children showed expressions of shock as they looked up. However, Marida did not show a sign of concern on her face as she continued to eat. Banagher stuffed the bread into his mouth. There was no taste. It felt like chewing on sand, and the sour saliva spread in his mind. “It’s the same for both. We’re fighting a war here.” Tikva said as his expression did not show that he was having a meal.

“Zeon’s fighting for the independence of Spacenoids. Big Brother, you’re a Spacenoid right? Why are you standing on the Federation’s side?”

“Tikva, control yourself, or daddy’s going to get angry.”

Gilboa growled, but Tikva’s widened eyes remained unmoved. Banagher swallowed the sponge-like bread and answered him, “Since where is there a just war?”

“Even if anyone says that it’s right, the fact that Zeon destroyed colonies and killed a large number of people will never change. Those who’re killed won’t even have the time to think if it were correct or not. Without knowing, one of these days, they’re just…this isn’t logical.”

''That’s right, this isn’t logical. Zeon’s an anomaly. Neo Zeon that destroyed “Industrial 7” is an abnormal terrorist organizations. I naturally have the right to defend myself unconditionally when I face such people who want to take my life like that. I just had the right to do this. That’s not killing. I’m not a killer—''

Tikva showed a crying look to Gilboa, who glared at Banagher once, but did not say anything as he put the soup into his mouth. ''See, you can’t say anything else, right?'' He grumbled in his heart, only to hear the sound of a chair being moved, causing him to jump up unwittingly.

It was Marida. Banagher thought that she was just getting up from her seat silently, but she left the table, got behind Banagher, grab his jumper collar with a hand, and was dragged out of his own chair without warning.

As Gilboa and the rest stared at this scene in a surprised manner, Marida dragged Banagher to the door with a force that did not allow for any refusal. “What are you doing…?” Banagher groaned as he spent lots of effort trying not to fall as he was dragged out like a leashed dog, and soon, he was brought out of the corridor.

“Wait, Marida…!” The mother said this as she raised her hand to stop her, and her eyes that once glanced at Gilboa looked at the door again. Marida did not look back as she did not open her sealed lips. Finally, Banagher merely saw the faces of the children with widened eyes as the beckoning darkness of the night closed in on his body and surrounded him. The howling of dogs somewhere was covered by the gusts that blew by.

===Part 13===

Both of them passed through the alleys just like this as they headed of the ‘hill’. It was just past 7pm, but the town was in complete silence. The night streets were sparsely covered with street lights, and even the sound of an electric care moving by could not be heard. Only the sounds of utensils clanking and the television sets echoing from every household could be heard softly. The stray cats that had ominous glowing eyes in the shadows crossed the alleys. It was unknown whether those with their lights turned off were already asleep, or that nobody had been living there.

Night in “Palau” certainly came early. ''Let go of me. I know. I’ll walk on my own.'' Banagher, who repeated this many times before he was finally released from Marida’s grasp was being prompted by something as he walked in the darkness. ''If she wants to kill me, she should have just done so right away. There’s no need for her to bright me to a place devoid of people just to finish me off. Maybe she’s going to bring me to a prison in the suburbs, just as I want.'' Banagher had somewhat defeatist thoughts as he continued to walk on the sandy ground faster than what was required. Marida did not speak up in the end, and the silent duo just continued down the dim alley just like this.

The town disappeared right behind them, and a wide quarry appeared right in front of them. The rock strata that was grinded by the cutter of the shield machine was chosen at this quarry. Those with minerals would be sent to the factory, while the rock remains would be sent to an airlock outlet with a belt conveyor that sent the rocks to wherever they needed to go. The shield machine cutter had not being used for a long time, and the quarry was littered with rocks and dirt that was dug but not processed, forming a sloped surface with a steep mountain. Marida went near the warning lights, proceeded on, and guided Banagher to a cave that looked like it was drilled through right in the middle of the sloped surface.

Unlike the central excavation connection shafts, this was a cave that was not strengthened with anything like concrete. The realism of the term prison suddenly closed in on Banagher, causing him to look up at the night sky before he reached the cave. The sandy clouds had not dispersed even during the night, and the lights of the stars, and the town lights that were flickering on the other end, could not be seen. Banagher’s legs felt fearful as he was unable to move, but he was glared at by Marida, who entered the cave first, and thought that he did not want to be looked down on. He swallowed his saliva and stepped into the cave. It seemed that there was a power source inside as Marida touched the control panel near the entrance, causing the lights inside to light the tunnel.

The icy cold air surrounded Banagher’s body, and the sound of the wind blowing by gradually faded. The tunnel showed a gradually downhill path for 20m, and after that, there was a hole that was broken through. Banagher was overwhelmed by the ceiling that was suddenly raised, stumbled a few times as he saw the sight in front of him, and gasped.

The stone pillars that were carved out were spaced out in a certain distance equally, and the ceiling supported by these pillars was in an arch shape. Under the ceiling were two rows of chairs that were rotting and tattered. The 2 rows of 10 chairs were lined up until the end of the cave. The inside of this hollow was even taller, and there were an altar that was almost rotting and a faded red carpet that was covered in dust. There was a podium at the right of the altar for preaching sermons, and on the other side, there was a pedestal used to receive the Holy Spirit. Entrenched deep into the wall on the other end of the hollow was a male figure who was crucified onto the wall—

The things in front were not exceptionally rare. There would be at least one church no matter which colony it was. Children knew that this person called Christ was the origin of Christmas day. Despite it not being as widespread as the old ages, the number of believers could not be described as few. Even non-believers would normally held weddings or funerals in a church. Banagher remembered that a pastor once recited a line from the Bible when his mother’s funeral was taking place.

But over here, this was not an orthodox church. The altar, the Holy water font, everything was obviously made from hand. The stained glass on the walls had lights shining in, and there was work done deep within the cave as it was possible to shine on the figure of the Cross. The fluorescent lights that mimicked the Eucharist Lights were most likely an antique of the old ages. The candle altar and the figure of the Virgin Mary were placed on both the left and right sides of the altar, and it was probably brought over from Earth a long, long time ago.

Those things were the remnants of the old ages…the Gregorian calendar that was also called the age of God. This was a fortress made by the toil, wear and damage on their bodies, the real believers who were stained with blood and tears—Banagher unwittingly walked towards the altar and stared at the silent figure of Christ. Marida quietly approached him and suddenly spoke, “What you said wasn’t wrong.”

“There’s no just war. However, being just alone may not necessary save people.”

Marida ignored Banagher, who was staring at her blankly, and looked up at the Cross. Her gloomy navy-blue eyes showed the light of the stained glass at this moment, glowing in a transparent manner.

[[Image:KSGU4 085.png|thumb]]

“This statue was built when this place was still part of the Asteroid Belt. The first batch of space pioneers were those who could not live on Earth, political criminals and people who had no other ways to live. When the Universal Century started, it was said that the Prime Minister said that this was a moment where Humanity would have to say goodbye to the century of Gods, but to these space pioneers, they would need a light they could rely on, especially those who lived in the asteroid belts, where the sunlight was mixed amongst the stars…”

The clear voice rang throughout the chapel, gradually seeping into Banagher’s tense body. He remembered the praying faces of Gilboa and the rest before they had dinner, and tried to say, “Light, is it…” Even though this “Palau” was dragged to be part of the Earth Celestial Sphere, the Church had built up in other places. The ideals of the people who saw light here 100 years ago had not disappeared even till this point. This belief would probably sink in with Gilboa and his descendants from the moment this was ingrained into the asteroid belt. They believed that one of these days, all suffering would pay off—

“Without light, people will be unable to live on. That’s why people want to rely on such a thing. However, the people who were abandoned into space finally found a light to replace this man. They found the new light called Zeon.”

Marida’s expression became a little sinister. Banagher again looked back at the image of Christ, and overlapped the image of Zeon Deikun he saw on the textbook over there.

“Whether it’s right or not isn’t important. To them, this light is important. They needed something to fight despair and live in this world that was cruel and binding. They needed something to believe that this world still has room for change. No one can laugh at such a demand. It’s stupid not to have a physical thing to rely on and live until now—if anyone can say that, that person is either being very happy, or is living in a way where he has nothing to do with the world. That can’t be called real living.”

Marida clenched her fists tightly as she said this. ''This person is letting me see her heart, telling me that if she doesn’t do this, she won’t be able to tell me something important.'' Such an understanding melted Banagher’s stiffness, and he felt his wavering heart calm down as he muttered, “Only humans have Gods…” This caused Marida to show an unexpected look as she turned towards him.

“Someone once said this. he said that humans have the power to overcome the current reality…the inner God called Possibilities.”

The words in his memories and the tapestry of the Unicorn were woven together like this, entering the bottom of Banagher’s heart. It was not a nightmare, but a voice let out by a definite existence, the one called his father, the words left in his heart—after a short moment of silence, Marida simply said this, “He’s really romantic.”

“It’s impossible for someone to say that without believing in Humanity or the world. I don’t know who said that, but he should be a kind person.”

Banagher was taken aback by Marida’s smiling face, and felt rather happy too. An embarrassed and proud complicated feeling rose up his chest, and he looked up at the image of Christ on the Cross.

Light. The inner God. Something that could be changed into possibilities or hope. Such a thing definitely existed in everyone, and yet varied amongst everyone. That was why everyone would agree with each other sometimes, and fight each other sometimes. If everyone was being wary about what they have different views on, they would restrain their laws and definition of justice, solidifying into an absolute existence and make their way of lives rigid, making mistakes.

At that moment, humans killed Gods. They killed off possibilities and set laws to the world, confining themselves into this fixed viewpoint. They casted aside weights like ethics and morals, and what often kept swaying may be their values. If not, Banagher would not spend time with Marida, who he deemed a “terrorist”, and they would not show their inner hearts to each other. Such insistence was foolish, and in a certain sense, regrettable…

''Stay here and learn.'' Zinnerman’s words echo in Banagher’s mind, causing him to look down onto the sandy floor, and a sigh came out from his heating mind. “Don’t mind about Ensign Sergi…that guy you shot down.” Marida said as she gently went by Banagher’s shoulder.

“Once you pilot a mobile suit into battle, you’re a fighting unit called a pilot. You have no grudges if you’re killed, and there’s no need to feel guilty about killing people.”

Marida’s words let Banagher know the significance behind his obstinate actions, and the thoughts that were hidden in his tight heart; they were already seen through. He inadvertently looked up and stared at Marida’s face. These were what she wanted to say, and what she experienced and understood. These two factors overlapped within her navy blue eyes, forming an instinct that had yet become a physical form. Banagher’s chest felt an icy chill, and he cautiously asked, “Have you piloted a mobile suit before?”

Marida glanced at Banagher silently, and immediately looked away as she simply answered, “I will when there’s not enough manpower.” This vague sounding answer might make anyone feel a chill, but after a short pause, Banagher thought of an uncertain possibility, and he could only stare at the navy blue eyes that were radiating light.

The light shining in diagonally from the stained glassed caused the side of her face looking at the Cross to look like the Virgin. ''Such a beautiful person.'' This recognition that only appeared in Banagher’s mind at this moment warmed his originally chilly body.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_4_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_4_Chapter_2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

KSGU:Volume 2 Chapter 2

2013-06-02T05:56:50Z

75.191.206.178: /* Part 3 */

==Chapter 2 (continued)==

===Part 1===

“Return back to the ship?”

It’s 4.02pm. As the light of the artificial sun started to weaken, Marida was talking to the receiver in the public phone. (That’s right). Zinnerman answered.

(End the search for the time being and come back before the deal begins. Same goes for Alec and Besson.)

It’s been more than 2 hours since they lost her. They didn’t have a way to break through the large construction area, and it’s true that they were just wasting time. However, they ended their search too quickly. Marida looked at the electric car that was parked beside the public phone on the road. Alec, who was in the driver’s seat, was staring at the neighboring building—the school compound of Anaheim Electronics. It’s impossible to see from here, but Besson should be behind the school watching through the same method.

Of course, nobody could guarantee that the student will come back. But after the huge commotion in the construction area, it’s impossible for him to stay there, and there’re no other leads. Marida looked at the watch to see that there’s still some time before the transaction’s done, and said with a somewhat anxious voice, <‘the girl’ must have entered the space colony builder>.

“We know the identity of the student who helped her ‘escape’. Most likely, it may be something related to the Foundation. Once we wait for him to come back…”

“That Foundation contacted us already. The location of the transaction is changed to the space colony builder.”

The fingers holding onto the phone trembled. The Vist Foundation that made contact with ‘her’ is now requesting a change in location for the deal—and in their territory too. Feeling the irritation of having the initiative snatched from them, Marida asked: <what about the ‘girl’?> (Play dumb) Zinnerman said.

(We have no idea of what their intentions are, but we can only pretend that we know anything. Go get ready just in case something happens.)

Then, shouldn’t we be going to the colony builder together instead of going back to the ‘Garencieres’? Marida wanted to say instinctively, but swallowed her words. The assumption here Zinnerman’s thinking of isn’t something that can be handled with just one or two people being on guard, but mobile suits that have to be on standby.

It’ll be great if Vist Foundation, who deliberately opened their stronghold, hand her over. If not, at that time—Marida answered ‘understood’ as she watched the school gate of Anaheim Electronics. It seemed that it’s after school, and the students that were in plainclothes were laughing and walking out from the gate to the electric car carpark.

What causes them to laugh like this? Marida saw a young woman pushing a baby cart along, walking beside them, and felt really happy. It’s not because that she imagined these pedestrians getting involved in the ‘assumed situation’. Once they’re involved, it’s easy for their lives to vanquish easily. However, they will never dream of such a thing. They never actually thought about their deaths actively or subconsciously, and think that today’s just like yesterday. Marida was really unhappy as she understood that peace was just a mistake made by this group mentality, and that it was extremely fragile.

I took in too much air outside, she thought. Even though she wanted to capture that student called Banagher and interrogate him about ‘her’ whereabouts, she herself isn’t suited to do this kind of work. She wanted to get rid of this tight-fitting clothing and return to the ship…

(It’s finally time. Let’s go check out what’s in that treasure box.)

Zinnerman said through the phone, perhaps reading through her thoughts. Marida wasn’t looking at the strangers, but looked up at the sky of the warm space colony that made her uncomfortable.

===Part 2===

Below Marida’s feet, about 50m away from the inner walls, at the outer walls of Industrial 7 that’s in direct contact with vacuum, two objects were closing in.

The larger one was more than 15m in diameter, and the two objects that were of irregular shapes look like normal pieces of rock in the shoal space region. The pilot of the <<Geara Zulu>> that was hidden on the back of the solar panel, Savoir, saw it. It’s unknown whether it was a block of dirt from the destroyed portion of the space colony, or whether they’re debris from some mineral refining satellite. Either it, it’s moving at the same speed as Industrial 7, and even if it touches the space colony, it will only graze the outer wall. The port management’s radar should have detected it. if they decide that there’s danger, they can set up countermeasures like using the colony-defense missiles to change the trajectories and so on. Savoir made this conclusion, and didn’t pay attention to the enlarged visual of the CG.

If he focused attention on a certain point, the overall surveillance will be eased. He has been watching outside alone for more than 12 hours, and he had already listened to the music he took out to listen to pass the time once. He felt that his concentration was weakening. He opened the visor of the helmet and used a tissue paper to wipe away the sweat. Savoir looked at the numerous windows on the all-view monitor. The 4 miniature camera devices that were set around the machine showed their visuals over to the cockpit of the Geara Zulu. There were the lights of a civilian ship that came into the dock, the subway lights that’s running on the outer wall of the space colony, and the two blocks of rock that were closing in. Savoir checked that everything was normal, and thought that it will be over in another 3, 4 hours. Once the deal’s done, he can return to the <<Garencieres>> and stretch his limbs nicely. He, who hasn’t had more than a thousand hours of flying, was treated as a rookie by the crew of the <<Garencieres>>, and is finishing a day’s worth of recon without handing over his duties…

Suddenly, the surveillance camera showed a signal, and the broadcast channel music that was playing inside the cockpit became static. Savoir hurriedly put his hand on the arm-raker, amplified the volume of the high frequency wireless radio and concentrates his consciousness on the countless conversations through the statics. The signal vanished after about 10 seconds, and Savoir heaved a sigh of relief.

That’s probably interference from the Minovsky Particles! Someone must have scattered the particles around this region to jam the electric waves as it expand, but the interference this time is really big. For precaution’s sake, Savoir did all sorts of mechanical tests, and checked the visuals of the surveillance cameras. There was nothing different from before other than the two blocks of rock moving behind the space colony and entering the blind spot of the camera.

However, Savoir didn’t know that the Minovsky Particles interference for that moment was so strong that even the port radar that had shielding parts was covered. The two pieces of rock then used this moment to change directions, not being what Savoir expected.

The uneven rocky surfaces let out glows from the control boosters, and the two stone blocks were slowly approaching <<Industrial 7>>. During the short amount of time while the boosters let out thrust, the stone blocks attained relative velocity to the rotational speed of the space colony, and they were stuck on a part of the outer wall that had the ‘Wheels’ on it. Then, the thing that looked like a stone block from the outside seemed to explode like a balloon; and what appeared inside was obviously an artificial object.

The tea-brown body that was inorganic like rock had limbs that didn’t seem to have anything to do with a solid object. Also, the eye-like visor that had the function of covering the sensor on the head made it seem like it’s a mobile suit humanoid weapon, but there’s a lot of characteristics that didn’t fit it. It copied the traditional look of the Federation Army made mobile suits, but its head is so flat that it feels like it was hit, and it is only 12m tall, 2 sizes smaller than a standard mobile suit. The mechanical shoulders do not have any hands at the wrists, only wrists that were designed uniquely for this squarish unit. The advantage of this mobile suit is that it’s very versatile in terms of use, as its arms can be used to holster weapons. Based on this, the state right now doesn’t look very efficient.

However, this is only one form of the D-50C <<Loto>> machines. The two <<Lotos>> removed their stone exterior—dummy balloons used for disguise, and got close to the space colony while being hidden in Minovsky’s Particles, and the machines that were obviously much smaller than mobile suits were facing the outer walls of the ‘Wheels’.

The stars in the background were moving relatively to the rotational speed of the colony, and the machines draw out the mechanical arms from under the wrists. The tip of the beam burners melt the outer wall of the ‘Wheels’. Unlike a beam saber that’s a concentrated form of beam, the beam burner shoots out hi-energy mega-particles directly, causing the outer wall of the ‘Wheels’ to melt like butter. Less than several seconds later, more than 10m square of the outer wall is sliced off, and both <<Lotos>> manage to successfully enter the place. One machine enters, and the second machine goes into to weld the outer wall from the inside. This is to simply weld the important parts and not spend too much time when escaping.

There’s no air filled in this outermost area of the ‘Wheels’ as the metallic frames were still being built. The ceiling is less than 10m tall, and the materials that were left aside were left behind the pillar, creating a view similar to the bottom of a ship or below a jumping board. As the <<Loto>> at the back is welding, the machine at the front sneaks into the narrow space, and ducks down as its feet touches the ground. It looks like it fell as it touched the ground because of gravity, but this is the correct operating process of this machine.

Just as its feet are about to touch the ground, the caterpillar units that are installed at the back are deployed; and the 2 set of crawlers that bore 4 wheels each bore the weight of the <<Loto>> unit as it land. Both legs then reached forward, and the thigh-equivalent parts were extended forward. The upper arms slide back, and the two wrist are attached to the left and right side of the machine, forming a machine with limbs all over the place.

[[Image:KSGU2 017.jpg|thumb]]

The flattened head is half-entrenched back inside the body, and the six-wheeled crawlers that are equipped behind the thighs of the <<Loto>> land on the ground. The <<Loto>> that’s not a humanoid shape but a tank now moves its four crawlers and went forward as a tank. The <<Loto>> behind it transforms into a tank too without waiting for its ally to move far, and men in normal suits came out from the troop transport room behind it. They then leave the machine under zero gravity and use the boosters to go all over the place before quickly starting on their designated missions.

The smart normal suits that look like they’re for pilots to use have bulletproof vests with magazine pouches worn on the outside, and the holsters of the M-92F automatic pistol are attached onto their right legs. The arms and knees have hardened plastic guards, and there are recoilless rifles slung behind the shoulders. The men are all wearing this equipment, and didn’t do any unnecessary movements. The boosters that have jet fire caps to reduce the lights are moving, and the profiles of the people wearing helmets can be seen landing on the ground, not minding the gravity on their bodies as they begin to deal with the access hatches on the wall and the ground. They have to restore the alarm mechanism as the outer wall was melted, set up a mechanism for them to maintain contact with each other even with the effects of Minovsky Particles, and establish connections to control systems that manages lifelines and safety system. The assignment is completed in less than one minute, and during this time, the <<Loto>> that’s moving in front went down the split path and disappeared. In this faint passage with neither air nor sight of crowds, the rumbling of the caterpillars is slowly echoing as it moves further and further away.

The slight tremble echoed through the ground, causing the machine to jerk, and reach Commander Daguza Mackle in the control room. 45 seconds after the operation began, Daguza said ‘we’re through’, and a short (Go) went through the wireless communication, letting Daguza know that the relay device is set up.

“Safety system.”

(Go)

“Governor.”

(Go)

After a hushed exchange, the fully-armored men end their work and return to the <<Loto>>. The last one moves through the back of the vehicle, and Daguza indicate the pilot sitting at the front to start moving. The Strategic Naval Research Institute—SNRI developed mini core reactor gives off power that won’t lose to an ordinary reactor as it moves the 4 crawlers. Daguza’s <<Loto>> jerked as it does not move down the path the front unit went through, but through the narrow hatch.

The small size of the reactor allows the machine to be smaller, but the <<Loto>> can carry quite a few people. As a transforming mobile suit, it also has to fulfill the specs of a transport carrier during special missions, so, needless to say, it holds a transport room that can hold 8 troops inside. The control room can also contain 3 people, the captain, the driver and the communication personnel, and has the function of a command vehicle once it reaches a combat zone. On the screen at the captain’s seat, Daguza summoned out the map of <<Industrial 7>>. The flatscreen image of the space colony has the link between the space colony and the ‘Wheels’ as the center, and through the light spots, they’re able to tell where Team Alpha and Team Beta are at; allowing Daguza to realize how accurate the Inertia Navigation System (INS)—used to grasp locations through accelerations operation and time—is.

The operation has lasted for 1 hour and 40 minutes ever since they launched from the mothership <<Nahel Argama>>. There’s no delay in their journey, but Daguza isn’t taking any risks here. Earth, colonies, asteroids—to the members of ECOAS, special forces of the Earth Federation who believe in ‘fighting no matter where the location is’, invading colonies is just something normal for that. The problem is how to finish the mission without being seen. Daguza let the screen roll and focus on the stage of this battle. Down the inner wall of the ‘Wheels’, they will reach what’s basically equivalent to a dock of Industrial 7, the colony builder <<Magallanica>> that has a unique shape.

It’s a large facility governed as a public colony, but in fact, it’s the base of the Vist Foundation. That place has the target item, the <<Laplace Box>>. ECOAS’ mission is to confirm its existence, prevent them from handing it over to the third party, and if possible, reclaim it. It’s not stated, but Daguza knows that attached to the ‘stop’ word are the words ‘at any costs’, and ‘reclaim’ has the word ‘secretly’ attached to it. He knows this is a mission that the standard army can’t do and a mission that ordinary people can’t see, and that’s why the ECOAS are recruited. However, how much do their comrades on the command side know? They investigated through the insides of the <<Magallanica>> and the security system, but they have no idea of what the most important ‘box’ contains. Even if they find it out, he doesn’t know how to move it.

Thus, they have to confirm its existence. But with the involvement of the third party, the ‘Sleeves’, it can be said to be impossible for them to find this unidentified object. The success of this mission and the safety of the forces will all be in jeopardy unless they act ‘at all costs’. Daguza realize that they’re fighting with the savage title of manhunters, opened the visor of his helmet, pull the mask that was at his chin up to his nose before closing the visor.

Through the visor of the normal suit, what can be seen was only a cold expression. That nature of eliminating one’s own identity is ECOAS’ overall nature. In this get up, all members give up on their identities and become machines that will do their missions effectively, closing in on their targets silently and finishing the mission. They’ll disguise the results as an accident. Every person exists, and yet doesn’t, and are just a unit that form ECOAS.

They will eliminate the waste that’s released from this huge organization called the Earth Federation without anyone knowing, clearing them without mercy. The way some forms of media portray them were right, but parts have no wishes, and won’t have any expectations. As long as they’re individuals or organizations, there’ll be wastage when people live. This is something someone has to do—Daguza use this philosophy he adheres to in order to shake away the doubt in his mind and turned his sights back to the screen in front of him.

The two <<Lotos>> use the short layer under the ground of the colony to quickly move through at top speed and gradually close in at the entry point of the space builder. The time now is 5.06pm, and the <<Nahel Argama>> is about to take action. Daguza exhales as he watches the time tick by. The breath that’s under the incombustible fabric mask brings about a presence of actual combat into the nose.

===Part 3===

(All personnel, get to type-2 alert. Mobile Suits are to get ready for launch. Release the airlocks. Pilots, back down.)

The audio broadcast rang through the fleet, and the mobile suit starboard ‘AIR’ red warning light was flashing. Riddhe Marcenas was checking that the two layers of his helmet were attached as he jumped into the cockpit of the 8th unit of the <<ReZEL>> .

The core reactor was starting to run. Once he turned on the full-screen mode, the screens on the inner wall of the ball-shaped cockpit where being activated one by one, showing all the 20m tall <<ReZELs>> that were around him. On this wide mobile suit deck, the <<Jesta>> painted with the serial number NA-J005 left the fixate and was moving towards the lift leading to the catapult. The mechanic holding the baton was floating in the air. The next machine that left the fixator was the 4th <<ReZEL>> unit . The warning light <<AIR>> was lighting, indicating that the catapult launch deck and the mobile suit deck’s airlocks were opened, and air was drawn out. The sound of the mobile suit activation mechanism and the sounds of the alarm quickly vanished, leaving only countless wireless sounds ringing in Riddhe’s ears. The sortie team’s preliminary checks, the signals on the bridge, the squad leader’s instructions; he has to hear the necessary information from amidst the large amount of sounds and answer them all, and that’s the job of a pilot.

(Romeo 001 notifying all units. Ian’s squadron will launch after Norm’s squadron. Once Noam’s squadron enters the battle zone, we’ll begin surveillance on Industrial 7. Norm’s squadron will enter the standby area and provide cover for the assault squad and the fleet. The ‘Sleeves’ may have entered Industrial 7, so don’t let your guard down thinking that we just need to protect ECOAS.)

As he carries out the checks as according to the textbook, the mobile suit squad leader, Lieutanant Commander Norm Basilicock was talking to everyone. Norm was the one in charge of leading all the mobile suits on the <<Nahel Argama>>, but for this launch, he’s leading a squadron, and the remaining forces are left for Commander Ian to command. Riddhe belongs to Ian’s squad, and amongst them, there are 4 <<ReZEL> codenamed Romeo and two <<Jegans>> codenamed Juliet. The Norm’s squad is positioned far away from the <<Nahel Argama>> to prevent any accidents.

Prevent accidents—contact with the ‘Sleeves’. Riddhe thought for a moment and was about to stop his hand when the mechanical officer Jona Gibney suddenly barged into the cockpit cabin. Gibney ignored Riddhe, who’s spaced out, leaned his body over, and asked, (Did you hear that?)

(It’s the 2nd fleet’s <<Clop>> that fought against the Sleeves. I heard 3 units were taken down.)

Both of them had their helmets sticking together to pass their words through vibrations. This ‘intimate conversation’ is very useful for those who don’t want their conversations to be overheard through the wireless network. Riddhe forgets about the misfortune of seeing Gibney’s bearded face up close and says in surprise, “Three?” He did hear of a battle happening near the shoal space region during the explanation just now, but he didn’t hear the details. It’s really a shocking thing to hear that three mobile suits were taken down.

(Really, what in the world are they doing in such a colony? Don’t damage the machine.)

Perhaps Gibney was able to see Riddhe’s pale face through the visor as he deliberately uses a casual tone to say that, slaps Riddhe on the helmet, and leaves the cockpit. Riddhe instinctively closes the hatch, checking whether there’s any problems with the air flow from the pump, and remembers his peer pilots that were also assigned to the <<Clop>>>.

He remembers that the <<Clop>> that’s assigned to the second fleet of Londo Bell has 6 units. They might not be all taken down at the same time, but for 3 units to be taken down; ''is it a large number of forces fighting, or did the ‘Sleeves’ have some ace pilot?'' No matter what it is, it means that the enemy with such firepower may be hiding at Industrial 7, and the hunters are going to start something over there—

(Ensign Riddhe, do you copy me?)

This time, squad leader Norm’s face appeared on the window. Riddhe hurriedly answered “Yes!”

(Never ever mention what you just heard. Forget about it.)

It’s not a communication throughout the entire fleet, but a one-on-one conversation. This is forbidden in battle, but to the members of the <<Nahel Argama>>, Norm’s words carry more weight than a textbook. Riddhe remembers the heavy atmosphere in the captain’s room and the term ‘Laplace’s Box’ that’s full of mystery, before answering, “Yes, I understand.”

(There’re some things that are better for you not to know of. In your position, even if you don’t want to hear it, you will one day hear the truth.)

“I don’t want to walk down the path of politics…”

(I know, but it’s the same no matter what you think.) Norm grimaces as he interrupts the sullen looking Riddhe, (Anyway, don’t get hurt in this stupid battle. I don’t want to be watched by Senator Marcenas.)

Norm uses a normal captain’s snark to end this and closes the communication screen. He probably doesn’t want his subordinates to feel goosebumps in their hearts. Riddhe feels that on one hand, this man isn’t to be underestimated, but on the other hand, he experiences the trustworthiness of this captain, and feels much more relaxed. But at the same time, he feels a strong sense of tension after thinking that anyone with such a mindset can die in a real battle, and his butt crack starts to tighten up.

After the preliminary order, it’s finally Riddhe’s turn, and he lets the <<ReZEL>> no. 8 come out from its fixtate. He follows the instructions of the mechanic waving the baton and takes the beam rifle from the armaments rack. This kind of basic action is already part of the computer process, so there’s no need to operate it manually. The <<ReZEL>> grabs the beam rifle in a fluid motion that’s like a human and heads to the lift. For every step it takes, the hooks at its feet will latch onto the barbs on the deck, and the tremors and sound of metal colliding with each other reaches the cockpit.

While moving up the lift, Riddhe starts to think of the ‘home’ that he left for a long time. ''Does dad know about the <<Laplace Box>> that will end the Federation government when it’s open?'' He randomly thought, but feels that this is stupid and tries to get rid of the notion. At this point, the lift reached its destination, and Riddhe’s ears hears the tense voice of a female (Romeo 008, please head to the 3rd catapult and launch after Juliet 4.) At a corner of the all-view monitor, in the communications screen that’s 10cm wide, Mihiro Oiwakken’s tense face was shown there.

It seems that it’s not just the pilot who was feeling fear and thrill from being involved for the first time and facing a real battle, as even the operator is showing the same thing. ''So the ‘Mini-tank’ can feel scared too,'' Riddhe thought for a moment, and an unknown impulse appeared in his mind. Riddhe doesn’t think too much into this as he says,

“Understood…Ensign Mihiro. Do you want to go catch a movie with me once we disembark?”

(Juliet 4, path’s clear. Please launch.) Following Mihiro’s uninterruptable voice, the <<Jegan>> that’s codenamed Juliet 4 launches, and the light green humanoid-shaped machine sides down the catapult. ''Did she not hear it, or did she ignore it?'' Feeling awkward, Riddhe lets the feet of the <<ReZEL>> latch onto the catapult that’s bounced back. He watches the mechanic wave the baton beside his feet, and the sight of outer space on the other side of the catapult enters his eyes. Mihiro suddenly brings her face closer to the communications window and whispers (You’re the third person to invite me out.) “Is that so?” Riddhe asks as he checks whether the lights on his individual circuit is on.

(This is the first time I’m being so popular. Do guys like to invite people out in such crazy moments?)

“Ahh…maybe. Just want to have something on my mind.”

Riddhe realizes that he was being too honest once he saw Mihiro cringe her chin back angrily, but it was too late. The lights on the individual circuit vanishes, and Mihiro reverts back to being an emotionless operator as it seems impossible to ask her out. ''Doesn’t actually matter;'' Riddhe feels really sorry as he says it to himself in his heart. She’s not used to this kind of thing, and if she can just easily say ‘okay’, guys will definitely fly out happily.

(Romeo 008, equipping catapult. Launch preparation complete.)

Mihiro says with a completely unrestrained voice. Riddhe half-reluctantly grabs onto the control stick, and then hears a whisper (I don’t like horror movies.) Unable to realize in time that she may have said this to everyone, Riddhe shouted in his heart ‘got it’, and his voice is so energetic that it’s really awkward,

“RIDDHE MARCENAS, ROMEO 008, LAUNCHING!”

The countdown beside the catapult shows 0 and the operator lets out the launch signal. The cable-powered catapult is shot out, and immediately, 5G’s worth of gravity is pressing down on Riddhe.

The <<Nahel Argama>>, which looks like a large wooden horse, has an opened-air deck on the right foreleg—and both top and bottom sides can be used as runways in zero gravity. The <<ReZEL>> rides on the catapult and glides down. Once it reaches the launching point of the catapult, it stamps hard and leaps into the vacuum like a snowboard jump.

The relative velocity of the catapult launch and the machine’s own thrust out increases as compared to the mothership. Riddhe sees from the corner of the all-view monitor that the <<Nahel Argama>> is moving further and further away, and checks whether the laser signal is working. The laser signal can tell the ship its position and allows for coordination in the bridge. It’s the only lifeline with Minovsky Particles all over the place. Without this, he will get lost in the wide outer space, and even shot by friendly fire. So no matter what, he has to check the laser signal. The training tells him that he can leave everything aside once he checks the air flow in the machine and his allies’ positions. In this outer space where radar can’t be used, what awaits one who loses communication will be a slow and drifting death.

The instructors who have been flying before the One Year War started, in the era of radar, would often remind them about this, but to the current generation that includes Riddhe, that’s not even a form of teaching, just common knowledge. To the pilots who’re learning how to fly in the sea of Minovsky particles, it’s a given premise that they can’t use radar, and it’s as simple as not being able to breath in vacuum. Riddhe finishes his checking on the laser signal before the acceleration ends, checks the positions of his allies, and then lets the machine transform. The head of the <<ReZEL>> tucks in like a turtle, and the part that forms the chest is elevated together with the cockpit. The two arms are bent inwards, and the feet at the base are spread aside, keeping the parts above the knees on both sides. The shield that’s equipped on the left wrist covers the head and two wrists, forming the lower body of the machine and making the <<ReZEL>> a non-human machine. It transforms into a space fighter jet that has the thruster group moved from the back to the back, the ones at the feet becoming the main thrusters—the ‘aircraft’ called Waverider.

The transformation merely took 0.5 seconds, and this kind of transformable mobile suit can only be made through a malleable mobile structure that can form a mobile suit’s frame and a light but strong gundarium alloy. It has a complicated transformation frame, so the costs of making it are high, and it’s a lot more complicated to assemble it. However, its high mobility and wide use of being a transport plane that can carry out long-range attacks are enough to make up for its flaws. The thrusters are all focused in a single direction because of the transformation, and the <<ReZEL>> gets thrust that’s far more than its own mass requires, which allows it to move other mobile suits too.

Once the transformation is complete, Riddhe moves the control stick to the left. He sees the <<Jegan>> no.5 quickly catch up after the <<ReZEL>> no.8 launched. The laser signals react for both parties to reach relative velocity. Doing a motion they’ve practiced hundreds of times, the arms of the <<Jegan>> grabs onto the hook on the <<ReZEL>>’s thrusters. At the same time, the interaction channel is online, and a coarse voice came through the wireless radio, (So my limousine’s driving by the young lord.” It’s the pilot of the <<Jegan>> no.5, Juliet 5.

“Yeah, where are we going, dear guest?”

(Drive me to the gathering point of those ‘Sleeves’, and remember to drive safely.)

Riddhe steps on the gas without hearing him complete the sentence, and the thrusters let out white and hot glows. The machine frames of the <<ReZEL>> and the <<Jegan>> that looks like it’s grabbing onto a beatboard accelerate (You got nerve…! I’m going to lodge a complaint to your dad!) Riddhe hears the scream from the wireless radio cheerily and gives a smile. ''I should be able to do this,'' he thought. He feels a lot more relaxed, and his body does the motions he was trained to do. ''Even if we’re starting a real fight, I can tackle this fearlessly. I have self-confidence, and for this, I paid double the effort anyone else made. I’m a real pilot.''

The feeling of acceleration when the <<ReZEL>> transforms into the Waverrider state is different from the mobile suit state. It’s like he became a bullet and flew in a straight line, and it makes him feel like how he always stated his dream of becoming a pilot when he’s young. Riddhe lets the machine turn and join Ian’s squad. With squad leader Ian leading, 2 of the 4 waverride-state <<ReZELs>> are transporting <<Jegans>>. This looks just like a flying formation. ''It’s this''...just when Riddhe’s feeling intoxicated by this feeling, he remembers that the biplane model is still in the cockpit, and frowns.

He wanted to take it to his room before launching, but forgot. He wrapped it up in a plastic bag, but it might be damaged if he accelerates too much. Riddhe looks over at where he left the model, and mutters ‘forget it’.

''I’ll just check it when I go back.'' It’s the same with the date with Mihiro, the more things I have to do once I get back to the ship, the better. Riddhe feels relaxed that he can still think about this, and focuses on maintaining formation.

In front of him is the shoal space region with countless blocks of remnants and stone. As he looks at the most up-to-date version map of space, the Ian’s squad dodges the obstacles and head to the standby area. The battlefield, <<Industrial 7>>, can’t be identified through the countless space dust.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[KSGU:Volume_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
| Return to [[Gundam Unicorn|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[KSGU:Volume_2_Chapter_3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Tsukumodo:Volume 1 Present

2012-07-02T07:28:13Z

75.191.206.178:

My wage is calculated on an hourly basis and paid to me every day—in cash.

That is because Towako-san can't be bothered—and would forget—to make a payment to my account at the end of every month.

At days when she's away for her purchases, Saki is in charge of paying me.

Since I live in an apartment on my own, I have to use my wages with care. While my parents do send me money, my payment still covers a significant part of my daily expenses.

I don't line up for bargain sales, but at the very least, I try my best not to waste any money. I even save up some of it.

If it's really okay for a high schooler to act so much like a housewife is anyone's guess.

Well, because of that, I'm not so stupid as to use up my entire wage the day I get it like other students that have started a part-time job out of greed.

Living for the moment doesn't suit me.

Always use your money wisely. That's my motto.

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

<div style="color: #75365A; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
"Here, this is a present."

I hardly believed my ears when Tokiya said so out of the blue.

I, Saki Maino, stood stone-still for twenty-two seconds with a shopping bag in my hands.

During that time, Tokiya said something, but because my mind had gone blank, everything went in one ear and out the other.

"...So, got it?"

"Eh? Ah, yes. Sure."

I nodded instinctively, although I had no idea what he had been talking about.

"Anyway, that's all there is to it, you hear?" he said and left, perhaps embarrassed.

Left alone, I was at a loss of what to do with the present—according to him—he had given me and kept standing on the spot.

(People—namely Tokiya—often say that I have no feelings, but that's not true. I merely have trouble showing them, but naturally I do have feelings, and my heart is as sensitive as everyone else's.

To the degree that I get a little flustered when I suddenly receive a present.

I need to recall what just happened.

Tokiya and I were working together until closing time like we always did.

Towako-san was away to acquire Relics again, and there were next to no customers like every day, so there was pretty much nothing to do.

We really do have few customers.

I'm convinced that we ought to make both the interior and exterior brighter and make it more welcoming to customers. I also think that it would be best if we included Asian merchandise and fancy things into our range of goods instead of sticking to forgeries of Relics.

When I once made this suggestion to Towako-san, she told me there was no need to do that. Apparently, she didn't have any plans of making her shop flourish. Despite her concern over its sales figures.

Perhaps I should lend her the book "Becoming a Famous Shop Manager made easy!" I've been reading until yesterday?

Oh no. I went off track.

Anyways, we worked until closing time and then Tokiya left.

However, for some reason, he came back.

At first, I thought he had forgotten something, but then he suddenly handed a shopping bag over to me and told me it was a present.

A present? Why would he give me a present?

I also wondered if today was my birthday, but that isn't the case.

Labor Thanksgiving Day? Not really. To begin with, there's nothing he should thankful over.

Mother's Day? I'm not his mother. Father's Day... goes without saying.

Today's no special occasion, nor is it a holiday.

Another possibility would be that it's an apology for something he did.

I tried searching my memories, but nothing came to mind that would require an apology.

H-He cheated on me...?

No, we're not in that kind of relationship, so infidelity doesn't apply here.)

......I came to my senses again and felt a little ashamed of having such dull thoughts.

With the bag in hand, I went back into the house.

Since Towako-san was absent, I was alone today.

Upon arriving at the living room, I put the bag on the table.

I turned on the TV for starters.

A variety show that wasn't particularly interesting was on. Because the TV failed to draw my attention, my gaze went back and forth between the TV and the shopping bag on the table.

I tried touching the bag.

It gave off a rustling sound.

I quickly pulled away my hands.

Then I went back to the TV and changed the channel.

A baseball match of which I didn't know the rules was on. Because the TV failed to draw my attention, my gaze went back and forth between the TV and the shopping bag on the table.

I tried sneaking a peek into the bag.

There was something pink inside.

I quickly pulled my head back.

(Boy, what am I doing...?

In the first place, how dare Tokiya do something confusing like that all of a sudden!)
[[Image:Tsukumodo_V1_P255.jpg|400px|left]]

My disturbance started to settle down and was replaced by anger.

(Is he watching me and having a good laugh...?

Ah! That's it! That must be it!

And I was so silly as to act like this right in front of his eyes...)

"How careless of me."

I shot a gaze around the room, searching any signs of Tokiya.

...I didn't find anything.

Just in case, I also took a look at the shop, but with the lights turned off, there was only an absolute stillness. I peeked out of the window, but of course did not find anyone. I also checked the kitchen and the restroom, but remained unsuccessful.

(What else is this supposed to mean, then?

Is it by any chance really a present?)

"........."

With a deep breath, I made up my mind and opened the bag.

Inside was a dress. A sleeveless dress with lots of frills. Its color was... not my favorite color, black, but pink.

(After knowing me for so long, he still doesn't understand what I like. Anyways, choosing that color comes close to harassment. No, he ''is'' trying to harass me.)

At that point, I recalled a certain thing and fetched a magazine from my room.

There was this magazine I had bought with the hope that it might help me improve my customer service. It aimed specifically at high schoolers, but that was no issue. After all, I was a teenager as well. Tokiya had given me an awkward glance, however, while was I reading it back then.

I flicked through the magazine. There was supposed to be a featured article on presents. Making a present to someone can be related to suggesting articles to a customer. That's why I bought it.

I found the caption of the article, "What do I do with such a present?!".

''"If a boy gives you a present you don't like, don't get angry! It's a sign that he wants you to share his likes! Go, jump at the chance!"''

I closed the magazine.

I was quite impressed by what I had just read.

(Yes, the dress on the table doesn't match my preference.

But does that mean that he has a preference for such things?

Tokiya likes this kind of dress? Does he want me to wear it?)

As a test, I repeat, ''as a test''. No really, ''as a little test''—believe me. I held the dress in front of me and stood before a mirror.

In the mirror was my body, which was always clad in black, shrouded by pink.

Honestly speaking, it didn't suit me.

A pinkish frilled dress just didn't fit my sour face.

Still, I didn't put the dress away.

It was a present from Tokiya.

The first one ever.

There had been nothing like this in the past.

I hadn't even dreamed of it.

People—namely Tokiya—often say that I have no feelings, but that's not true. I merely have trouble showing them, but naturally I do have feelings, and my heart is as sensitive as everyone else's.

To the degree that I get a little excited when I suddenly receive a present.
</div>

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

The incident occurred the day before yesterday.

Right after I had arrived at the shop for my shift, I changed with Saki so she could go do some shopping.

Towako-san was away to make purchases.

Alone and bored, I went to the living room to watch TV, since there wasn't going to be a customer anyway.

However, something caught my eye.

It was a wallet. A normal brown leather wallet as you can get at any store. Knowing that Saki's was black, I supposed it was Towako-sans'.

While wondering how she could only forget her wallet when she was making purchases, I took a peek at its contents. It was completely empty.

That there was no money goes without saying, but there weren't any credit cards or cash slips either.

Apparently, she had bought a new one and left the old one here.

Actually, the coin pocket of my worn-out wallet had gotten a hole just that day, and had become useless.

I decided to borrow Towako-san's old wallet until I bought myself a new one. I didn't see why I should not use it if she didn't need it anymore.

After switching all my money and things like my video rental membership card, I stuffed the wallet away in my pocket.

The shop closed for the day and I received my wage from Saki. On my way home, I went to a convenience store and bought myself a few things like a microwave dinner.

The change I had left was barely going to suffice for my lunch the following day.

The following day.

I found my wallet empty.

The cards were still there. But the change that should have been there had disappeared.

I hadn't noticed until I was at the checkout of a convenience store I had dropped by on my way to school, wanting to buy a canned coffee. The embarrassment that came with returning it because I had no money was beyond description.

Most likely, I had dropped it the day before somewhere. Or perhaps I had forgotten to accept the change. It was a crying shame that this happened when I had only just changed my broken wallet.

But the real hair-raising shame was the amount of money I had lost. The money that had been there from the beginning plus the change would have made about 800 yen.

That day, I was forced to go without a canned coffee—the sole luxury granted to me.

Of course, no lunch for me, either.

Despite I had eaten two several-day-old buns in the morning, I felt as though as I was hungry already.

After I had born through the lunch break while getting teased by my classmates, I headed to the shop.

I tried to get my hands on some leftovers by explaining to Saki that I had dropped my money, thus hadn't eaten anything, but on that day of all days, there was nothing left.

(I'm out of luck.)

I bore through my shift while enduring my empty stomach, and earned my wage. On my way home, I dropped by the convenience store again and bought another microwave dinner and some new buns for breakfast. At last I got something to eat.

I accepted my change and put it carefully into my wallet, checking every single yen.

1262 yen. Exactly.

The following day.

I found my wallet empty.

The cards were still there. But the change that should have been there had disappeared.

(Strange. I can't have dropped my money two days in a row.

Besides, I checked the sum yesterday. As precisely as I could. There should be 1262 yen. In the first place, it would be still one thing I I lost my wallet, but it's just ridiculous to exactly only lose a 1000-yen note and the change. That's just absurd.

If I think like this, it also becomes dubious if I've really lost my money yesterday.)

Suddenly, I noticed that the buns I had bought for breakfast had disappeared.

(Did a burglar break in?)

I checked my room. All that was missing was my money and the buns I had bought the day before. Upon further thought, it seemed rather unlikely that a burglar would come to steal some loose cash—two days in a row at that—and a few buns.

(But what was it then...)

I looked at the wallet on the table where I had thrown it.

It lay there still. A perfectly ordinary brown wallet. Yes, as ordinary as it gets.

The only special thing about it was that it belonged to Towako-san...

I took my mobile phone and gave Towako-san a call. Most of the time, she was not available by phone when she was on her purchase trips, but this time I got through to her by a miracle.

"Mmmm... Tokiyaa? Mwhat's wrong?" a sleepy Towako-san replied at the other end.

"Towako-san, I'm sorry, but tell me whatever you know!"

"About what?"

"About the wallet you left at the shop!"

"Wallet...?"

"Yes. A brown wallet."

"A brown wallet? Aah, I see. Mm? Why do you know about it?"

"It was on the table in the living room."

"Eh? I've put it at such a place? Yikes. Looks like my thoughts were elsewhere. Please stow it away somewhere. Ah, absolutely don't line it up in the shop! And don't use it on any account! Well, it's not like you were so dimwitted as to touch my things."

"......"

"......Eh? Did you... use it?"

"......Yes."

"Fool! Didn't I tell you not to?"

"That was just now!"

As she said, I had been thoughtless. I couldn't deny that.

I should have realized the moment I noticed it belonged to her.

But. But!

Who would expect a Relic wallet to lie about at such a place?

However, it's no use crying over spilt milk.

"So, what power does this wallet have?"

Thus I asked.

I asked what nightmare this Relic was going to bring about.

"You lose all the money you've earned during the day if you don't spend it on the same day."

I don't know who created this "Relic", but let me say one thing:

Are you a freaking party animal or something?!

* If I don't spend my earnings the same day as I received them, they disappear.

* Things I bought myself with these earnings disappear as well.

* The effect lasts seven days.

This was what I could summarize from what Towako-san told me about this Relic.

The fact that my earnings disappear if I don't spend them on the same day means that I was always going to become flat broke the following day, right after midnight.

The fact that things I bought myself with my earnings disappear as well means that I couldn't buy any buns for breakfast, because it was impossible to stock food.

The fact that the effect lasts seven days means that I had to bear up with this stupid power for a whole week.

Incidentally, the effect had activated the moment I'd put money into the wallet and wasn't going to stop even if I disused it, trashed it or burned it. In fact, Towako-san threatened me to make me work for free for the rest of my life if I did that.

The only saving grace was that everything I had bought before using that wallet did not disappear, thus my clothes and utensils were still okay. I bitterly regretted that I hadn't also bought cup noodles ahead, but now it was too late.

(But I have to say...

Those Relics really always have downright absurd powers.)

Depending on how you looked at it, I was given the chance to wallow in luxury for a week, eating expensive dishes and playing all night and so, but with the money still being my own, that wasn't exactly meaningful.

If I really were to spend all my wages of that week, I would be unable to pay my rent, my electricity bill, my cell phone bill and so forth at the end of the month.

I started to think about a way to handle this dire situation for the time being.

However, it was obviously not possible to put money aside when I had to spend all my money and consume everything I bought for me.

(It's hopeless.

But hell, what an unspectacular power.

Leaving aside if they're good or evil, I always thought all Relics were simply spectacular, but as it seems like there are also some with powers that are dripping with mundaneness.)

The moment I thought so, an e-mail from Towako-san arrived.

"Why don't you give a present to Saki for once? Or me!"

(Why should I have to give you or Saki a present? Rather give ''me'' one!

Mm? A present...?

Ah. Didn't think of that!)

After work, I directly went to buy a present.

I had been thinking all day long what I should buy, paying no attention to my classes nor to my job, and had decided on clothes.

After receiving my wage from Saki and buying my dinner, I took the remaining money and bought a pink dress in a department store that cost just so much that I got next to no change.

I know that she likes black, but it didn't matter in this case.

I pictured how she would look in such a pink dress and couldn't deny myself a laugh. Based on her personality, she'd never buy such a color. Of course, I hadn't seen her in such a color, either. Although curiosity would get the better of fear if I was given the chance.

"Is it a gift?" asked the shop assistant.

"Ah, kind of."

I declined the offer to have it wrapped, and returned to the Tsukumodo Antique Shop with the shopping bag that contained the dress.

The shop was already closed, so I went round it to to the rear and rang the doorbell. After a few moments, I heard Saki's voice through the intercom.

"It's me. Can you open the door for a moment?" I replied and waited for her to come.

Those few moments I spent racking my brains.

(What should I say when I hand it over? It will seem strange if I just give it to her out of the blue. She might get the wrong idea. Not that I'm used to giving presents to girls. In fact, it's a first. No, this may be a present, but it's not a present. It's only "kind of one". But it's still a present.

Somehow I just became tensed up.)

Suddenly, the door was opened and Saki appeared.

"What's the matter? Did you forget something?"

"Here, this is a present."

The moment she showed up, I just gave her the present out of the blue.

(Oh shit. I wasn't ready yet. I took a random action. Do I seem strange to her now? I bet...)

Her standing there stone-still with the bag hanging from her hands proved my fear.

Her face looked the same as always, but it being still a tad firmer than ever proved that she was surprised.

"D-Don't get me wrong, okay? It's a present, but it's not a ''present''. You look like you have no idea what I'm talking about, huh? Well, perk up your ears..."

I explained to her in all sincerity and every detail what had happened and what was the meaning of the present.

I can't deny that I felt somewhat like I was making up excuses to cover my embarrassment, but wanted to get this straight. It was only "kind of" a present. There was no deeper meaning.

After a full 22 seconds of explanation, I confirmed once more:

"...So, got it?"

"Eh? Ah, yes. Sure."

(All right! Looks like she understood.)

"Anyway, that's all there is to it, you hear?" I said and left.

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

<div style="color: #75365A; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Tokiya's strange behavior didn't stop there.

In other words, I received a present the following day as well. A snow-white broad‐brimmed hat.

And the day after that day as well. A pair of red show-off glasses.

Both of them weren't my taste at all, but they were still a present.

(I don't get it.)

I took another look inside the magazine I had dug out previously.

''"Boys are silly and think girls will fall for them by giving them presents. As if! You can't hook a girl with gifts.

But hold on!

An apt girl might as well show some delight for a such a silly boy.

Who knows, it might be the start of your true love?"''

I closed the magazine in a hurry.

(No way. That wouldn't happen.

I should rather consider his behavior suspicious. He must be scheming something.

Most likely those presents use up all his daily wages. But why would he go that far?

Is there any profit for Tokiya in making presents to me?)

The time I thought to myself that I should press him on that matter, the phone rang.

The call came from Towako-san. It was very unusual for her to call the phone at the shop when she was away for her purchases. Normally she would always break off contact until she came back.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Mm, sorta... By the way, did anything odd happen recently?"

"Eh?"

Tokiya's presents immediately came to mind. But saying that at this point was only going to add fuel to the fire.

"N-Nothing, really..."

Oh no. My voice was way too high-pitched.

I could virtually see how Towako-san grinned at the other end of the line.

"Mm? Mm? Did something happen?"

"As I said, no."

"But something did, right? Right? Come on, tell your buddy."

"As I said, nothing ha..."

I stopped mid-sentence.

It was unusual for her to give me a call when she was away, but today she was oddly insistent on top of that. Like she was convinced that something had happened.

"What did you say to Tokiya?" I asked.

"Uh? Ah, no..."

Bull's eye. The tables turned. Towako-san knew something. No, she had a hand in this affair.

"What did you say to him?"

"No, um..."

"So I take you don't mind whatever happens to your 'Relics', right? Ah, just there we have one..."

"Aaah! Wait wait! I got it! I'll tell you." She gave in and started to explain, "To tell the truth, that fool used a Relic wallet and got something like a curse that makes his earnings disappear unless he spends them on the same day. So, I suggested buying you presents if his money was going to disappear anyway!"

I had thought that they weren't just presents, but jeez, such a stupid...

Perhaps, he had explained all that to me when he gave the first present. I recalled that I hadn't listened to him because I had been so perplexed.

"But isn't he quite the devoted type? I mean, he rather bought you a present than making good cheer or going out and spending it for himself!"

A teasing and smirking undertone appeared in Towako-san's voice. Apparently she had settled down.

But I thought she might actually be right on that.

Normally, if you were forced to spend all your money, you'd eat something expensive you have to pass on normally, or you'd spend it for your own entertainment, like for watching a movie. In short, you'd give yourself some luxury.

Despite everything, Tokiya was using his money for my sake.

There might have been such a reason, and everything he had bought for me might have not been my taste at all, but they were still true presents.

"Well, so accept his favor gently."

"...U-Um, should I do something for him, too? I feel a little uncomfortable if it's just me who always..."

"Oh ho? Did you go into your cute-mode?"

(Something must be wrong with me that I asked ''her'' for advise. How careless of me.)

"Never mind. Forget it please. It's just your imagination."

"Now that's cold... But well, why don't you prepare something tasty for him? Maybe he'll be so overjoyed that he'll buy you an even better present? Two birds with one stone!"

"As I said, never mind."

"Whew, seeing a new side of my Saki-chan just set me up. I'm fully satisfied. All right, I'll leave the stage to the young folks now! I won't be back until three days. I can even keep away longer if I'd disturb you?"

"I'm awaiting an early return."

Towako-san left behind a strange chuckle and hung up.

Along with a deep sigh, I also hung up. Somehow this call really exhausted me.

It was then that the chime rang. I knew immediately that it was Tokiya.

I opened the door straight away without bothering with the intercom, and as I had expected, Tokiya was standing there with a present in a shopping bag.

"Here, today's present."

The present he gave me was packed in a longish box and had a checked wrapping around it.

"See you."

"Wait," I instinctively stopped him.

"What is it?"

"W-Why don't you come in for a cup of tea?"

"Do you want it straight? Or with milk?"

"Straight please."

I placed a cup in front of Tokiya and poured some tea from a teapot.

"Mm? Don't you usually use bargain tea bags?"

"I felt like drinking this tea today."

"So you serve the cheap one when I'm here and always enjoy the good one when you're alone?"

"You don't notice the difference anyway, do you?"

Tokiya, while complaining, took a sip of the black tea and declared confidently:

"No doubt. Earl Grey."

"It's Assam!"

Most likely he had just said the most expensive type of tea he knew. And probably, his knowledge was restricted to Darjeeling and Earl Grey, and the fact that the former is cheap and the latter expensive.

Tokiya's became silent and his triumphant face turned into a daunted one.

Only the sipping of tea could be heard around us, whereas we were at loose ends.

My looked at Tokiya's present that was still on the table.

"May I open it?"

"Mm? Well, if you only open it, sure."

I carefully took off the wrapping. Inside was a watch. It was the type of watch that had a cute character on its dial. But again it was not my taste. I know, never look a gift horse in the mouth, but I'd still have preferred something that matched my preference.

(Why does he not know what I like even though we're always together?)

My gaze drifted to Tokiya.

"W-What?"

"Nothing. Um, anyway, thank y..." I started, but suddenly he chocked hard on his tea. Apparently it had gone down the wrong pipe.

(I messed up the timing. What an awkward feeling.)

I fetched a damp cloth and wiped the table.

"...Saki, did you listen to the explanation I gave you?" he asked, confirming, while watching me wipe the table.

"Explanation?"

"When I gave you the first present."

"O-Of course! I did. I even heard it one more time today from Towako-san."

(So that really was an explanation back then. Thank goodness I got that call today.)

"Eh? She gave you a call?"

"Yeah. She asked if anything had happened recently."

"And what did you say?"

"Well, I said 'yes' and told her that you had been giving me presents. So you were cursed by a Relic wallet? Silly. That's what you get from using a Relic without care."

"Oh shut up. I just wanted to borrow it for a few days because my old one has got a hole and it was there at the right time! You wouldn't expect a Relic wallet to lie about at such a place, would you?"

"Can I take a look?"

Tokiya took a brown wallet out of the pocket of his trousers.

Indeed, it looked rather normal at first glance. I didn't care about how it looked, though. What I cared about was its contents. I took a look inside and found that there were only 50 yen.

"Only fifty yen? What about your dinner?"

"Already in my stomach."

"And what about your breakfast tomorrow?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"There's no point in buying something when it disappears anyway, is there? Therefore, I always stuff myself as much as possible. That's eating in advance."

"There's no way that would work."

"Don't say it! The important thing is to believe. Oh, that brings back memories of the time when I had no money and had to cut corners wherever possible."

Tokiya looked out of the window with a nostalgic glance. I wondered how he had gotten by before earning money here, but I the thought became quite horrifying, so I stopped.

(But he's right, now that I think of it. If he has to spend his earnings the same day, he can't even buy himself a meal for tomorrow because it would disappear.)

"Do you want me to lend you some money?"

"No, no need for that. I would borrow some if the situation was ''really'' hopeless, but if I only have to pass on my breakfast and lunch, I can do. That's nothing compared to earlier times when I had nothing to eat for three days and lived off water only at times. For someone used to poorness, leaving out one or two meals is a piece of cake. If a poor guy cuts down on something, then its his food expenses!"

"That's nothing to brag about!"

"Thinking about that has made me hungry. I'll take my leave and hit the pillow."

Tokiya stood up and before leaving, he asked:

"Can you fill me some of that tea in a bottle?"
</div>

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

I woke up to an empty stomach.

Apparently, stomachs get specially active when knowing that there's nothing to eat.

I cursed the faultless behavior of my stomach.

But today was the last day of this suffering. Today was the seventh day. The day I was going to be released from that wallet's curse. It was the day that day's earnings were going to fill my stomach the following day.

Moreover, it was Sunday, meaning there was no school. I didn't have to waste any energy. And most of all, I didn't have to watch my classmates enjoy their boxed lunches and sandwiches while having to fill my own stomach with water from the tap. Oh, how many times I had cursed my school for not having free school lunches.

But today I was going to turn over a new leaf.

That agony was going to end today.

Looked at in that light, it was no big deal to endure an empty stomach for one more day.

(It'll be time for work in no time if I hang around in my crumbly 9 square feet apartment.)

The very moment I thought so, someone knocked on the door.

(An offer for a newspaper subscription, perhaps? If you had come a day earlier, I may have signed the contract by mistake. But not anymore. You're too late. I have no spare money to spend for a lousy newspaper subscription. Letters don't fill my stomach. ...Should I really be saying this?)

"Coming! Who is this?"

I opened the door because I didn't want to be rude. Before me stood Saki.

"Saki?"

At first I wondered if I had gone too late to work, but the alarm clock inside was indicating 9am. It didn't seem to have frozen, either.

"It's nine in the morning now, right?" I asked.

Saki took a look at her watch and answered, "Yes, it is."

It goes without saying that it wasn't the watch I had bought her, but her own silver watch with a black leather belt.

(Now that's a surprise. It's quite unusual for her to come to my place. And that early in the morning.)

"Is something wrong?"

Without saying a word, Saki held out a black cloth pouch.

"What's this?"

I accepted the pouch, feeling its warmth in my hands. Apparently, there was something warm inside.

"Your meal," she said in an even voice. "You don't have anything else to eat, have you?"

She had remembered what I had told her the day before, and had bothered to bring me something to munch. There were two meals inside—probably one for breakfast and one for lunch.

"Please wash the boxes and bring them when you come to work," she said with a straight face and walked off after making a U-turn.

I hadn't at all expected her to make me lunch.

(Did she have a change of mind or something?

She, who usually faithfully obeys Towako-san's instructions of drawing the food expenses from my wage if I ask her to let me join the dinner, and eventually leaved me empty-handed?

Is this also an effect of my presents?)

...It didn't feel bad, but it did give me a bad premonition.

Had she really listened to my explanation back then?

She said that she had. And she said that she had also heard it from Towako-san.

But in that case, her attitude couldn't be explained.

(...Hold on. She heard from Towako-san?

Towako-san doesn't know everything I told Saki back then. Most likely she has only heard about the Relic wallet and Towako-san's suggestion.

Moreover, she said:

''—So you were cursed by a Relic wallet?''

"So" implies that she didn't know until learning from Towako-san.

If so, she hadn't listened to my explanation after all.

Sure enough, she was quite baffled.

I should have pressed her on it yesterday.

Perhaps it would be best if I caught up with her and explained it once more?

But it's too late now, anyway.

My strategy is already over at this point.

There's no point in telling her now.

If I told her the truth, it would probably drag her down or make her angry.

No matter how much trouble she has showing her feelings, I don't want to do that.

But I did explain it to her.

And she told me that she had understood.

So this matter shouldn't become unruly.

And even if she did get angry, seeing her face then should be worthwhile as well.)

The moment I considered the problem solved, my stomach grumbled. I'm such a simple guy.

I took the box containing the breakfast out of the bag and opened the lid.

There were sandwiches inside. One with tuna, one with egg, one with canned tuna, one with lettuce and ham, and finally one with a cutlet. Furthermore, there was a potato salad at the side.

Out of curiosity, I also took a look inside the lunch box.

There were three onigiri, fried meat, croquettes, and asparagus with bacon. There was even a salad made of warm vegetables.

On top of that, these were my favorite dishes. Didn't expect she'd remember something like that.

I put the lid back on the lunch box and, after taking a bite of a sandwich, poured the content of the thermos bottle that came with the lunch box in a cup. It was a consommé.

The vapor it gave off rose up to the ceiling.

A sip from it warmed me up to the core.

I was impressed that a thermos bottle could preserve heat that well.

After breakfast and an early lunch, I left my apartment when it was still a little early for work.

That is because I wanted to drop by somewhere on the way. Namely, the department store. This time not to buy Saki a present, of course, but for my own purchases.

Apparently, Saki was under the impression that I was flat broke. But of course, I wasn't a fool either; I had been saving up some money little by little, always putting aside a small part of my wages. That's under-the-mattress banking for you. I had dug out my pre-Relic savings to buy myself a new wallet.

I was going to need a new wallet when I bid farewell to the Relic. Of course I was interested in a normal and proper one that was also cheap. I wanted to spend about 1000 yen.

After looking up at the elevator, I headed to the floor where the general stores were.

There was also a floor with fashion for gentlemen and accessory shops, but they only handled branded stuff that were out of my reach and not my style anyway.

The elevator door slid open and revealed a well-organized line of shops for writing materials, books, music CDs or a corner for silver accessories. There was a huge variety.

I took a look at the map and searched for a place where I was likely to find wallets. There was one next to the silver accessory shop.

I walked through the floor and was about to pass by the silver accessory shop, when I spotted Saki by chance.

"Hey, Saki," I called.

Surprisingly startled, she raised her face from the glass case.

"T-Tokiya?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Nothing in particular?"

I peeked in the glass case as she had been doing. Inside I found various accessories shaped like stars, swords, roses and so on. Their price was also reasonable.

"Is there one you'd like to have or what?"

"Surely not. I was only checking my bed hair."

She ran her fingers through her silver hair. There was a time when I thought that such lustrous hair wouldn't get stand up in the morning, but apparently, I had been wrong with that idea. Well, of course.

"But what are you doing here, Tokiya?"

"Aah, just to buy something. Ah, right, this," I held out the bag with the empty boxes inside. "It was delicious!"

"Of course it was. I put all my skill... never-mind."

She snatched it away from me and pushed it into the bag hanging from her shoulder. A shopping bag from the department store caught my eye when she did so.

"Mm? Did you buy something?"

"N-Not really. Okay, I'm leaving. Make sure you're on time for work!"

Leaving behind these words, she went away from the glass case and headed to the elevator.

"Bed hair, huh."

I took a look at glass case glass and then looked ahead. There was a board hanging from the ceiling right over there that indicated the way to the powder room.

"Can I help you?"

A shop assistant approached me.

"Did the girl just now buy anything?"

"The girl just now? No, she was just looking at the glass cases."

"Do you know what exactly she was looking at?"

"Um, I'm afraid I don't know. But at the moment, this heart-shaped necklace with an embedded pink stone is very popular, so she would certainly be delighted!"

(That's definitely not her taste.

If I were to pick something to her liking, I'd say... in this glass case, it would be the crescent-shaped one here with a diamond-shaped black stone embedded. Probably.)

I thought so while looking in the glass case.

(Whoops, I shouldn't be idling here. I've come to buy a wallet.)

After telling the shop assistant I'd come again another time, I left the accessory shop and headed to the wallet store right next to it.

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

<div style="color: #75365A; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
After work, I invited Tokiya to stay for dinner.

Hearing this, he answered, "Sure, that comes in just useful."

He didn't have to spend all his money anymore, so there was no longer need to insist on buying a frozen dinner. And if I prepared dinner for him, he wouldn't have to use any money, so it really came in useful to him.

Besides, I wasn't mentally prepared just yet, so it also came in useful to me.

I made cabbage rolls and fried chicken. Unlike the lunch I had made for him, I went for a salty-sweet seasoning. I also made a few things from the leftovers of the breakfast, which he finished off as well.

"Aah, I'm stuffed. It feels like ages since I ate something else than microwave dinners."

"Do you never go to restaurants?"

"Nope. Too expensive. If anything, I'd go eat gyuudon somewhere."

(Tokiya's bad eating habits are no news to me, but that just worried me. Maybe I should ask Towako-san if we can let him eat here?)

Having finished eating, Tokiya made himself comfortable, watching TV and drinking tea I had poured him.

As for me, I was preparing myself while doing the washing up.

While washing the dishes—and nearly breaking them a few times—I started a simulation in my mind. I thought it was best if I seemed natural, and not too concerned or patronizing. But sadly, seeming natural was the most difficult.

(Like I would be able to do ''that'' naturally.)

"No, it's a piece of cake," I told to myself.

But doing ''that'' was a first for me and thus quite important.

The thought that it was the first time made me a little nervous somehow.

I knew only too well that it wasn't like me to do ''that''.

(I just have to give it to him without showing any expression at all, as always. I know that. But can I really pull it off?)

After finished the dishes, I made up my mind and went from the kitchen to the living room.

"Tokiya, listen...!" I said, making my mind up even more, but there was no reply.

"?"

Tokiya was lying on the couch, watching TV... I thought, but in truth he was sound asleep. Apparently, he had dropped off while watching TV.

I slouched my shoulders because of relief and the letdown, and let out a deep sigh.

I fetched a blanket from my room and put it over him. Tokiya was sleeping so deeply that he didn't even notice. This week must have tired him out extremely.

The time was 22:00. I supposed I could let him sleep for a little longer.

While gazing at his face out of the corner of my eye, I enjoyed a cup of black tea.

I raised my face when someone shook my shoulders.

Like the process of turning on a fluorescent lamp, my consciousness flickered for a moment and eventually became clear.

(Oh? What have I been doing again?)

That was the first thought that crossed my clearing mind.

"You were sleeping!"

I turned my face 90 degrees upwards in the direction I heard the voice and discovered Tokiya's face.

"I was asleep, too?"

"Yeah, I also woke up just now. Looks like that was a quite long nap."

I incidentally cast a glance at the clock. It was almost midnight. So I had been asleep for nearly two hours. As it seemed, Tokiya wasn't the only one who was tired. Mental fatigue, perhaps?

"Mkay, I guess it's time to leave," he said and stood up.

(Mm? Didn't I want to do something before falling asleep?)

"Ah. The present," I said.

"Mm...?"

"Here."

I held a bag, which I had hidden under the table, out to Tokiya.

Because I was still drowsy, I handed it over to him quickly and without caring about any of the simulations I had made beforehand.

But perhaps, that made me seem natural.

"A present? For me?"

"Yes. But it's just a wallet. A black one!"

I revealed what was inside. Somehow I didn't want him to get his expectations up before opening the box.

Choosing a wallet turned out to be a difficult task.

It was an endless cycle of picking up wallets and putting them down again, while pondering which might suit his tastes the best. It came as a surprise that it's so hard to select a present for someone.

I wondered if Tokiya also went through all this to select my presents.

"A wallet?"

"Yes! Your old one has got a hole, right? I thought you'd need one as soon as you stop using the Relic wallet."

"Will come in handy, thanks! All right, and this is from me."

The situation did a 180° and this time he gave ''me'' a bag.

Inside was a small cube with a black wrapping and a silver ribbon around it. It was a present, as it seemed.

"Is this for me?"

"But this is a true present now."

"What's that supposed to mean? Mine is a true present just as well!"

I untied the ribbon and carefully undid the wrapping. Inside the box was a crescent-shaped pendant with a diamond-shaped black stone embedded.

"This..."

"I thought that it would probably suit you..."

Back then I had been looking at that pendant indeed.

On my return from buying Tokiya's wallet, a glass case in a silver accessory store happened to catch my eye. Inside was a range of different accessories. But it was that pendant that drew my interest.

All his presents so far hadn't suited my taste, but this one was a strike.

Suddenly, the pendulum clock chimed midnight.

"Midnight? So it's finally over," he muttered.

Tokiya's curse had now been lifted.

He took out the Relic wallet, took out its content, and hatefully said, "You caused me a lot of trouble!"

After putting it on a shelf, he unboxed the one had given him. It was a foldable black leather wallet.

He then put his money back into his new wallet.

(He has used it right away.)

Somehow I was happy to see that he used the present I had given to him.

Perhaps, giving presents feels better than receiving presents.

That might be why we give gifts.

It might seem like a matter of course, but to me it was a big discovery.

"Wait a moment," I said and went into the next room and closed the door.

The presents I had received from Tokiya were stored there. Namely, the pink dress, the white hat, the red glasses, and the illustrated watch.

None of them suited my taste. I hadn't worn nor used any of them.

However.

I hadn't thought that using a present was such a pleasant feeling for the one who made it.

I put them on as fast as possible.

With a deep breath I made up my mind in front of the door and stepped into the other room, showing myself to Tokiya.
[[Image:Tsukumodo_V1_P293.jpg|400px|right]]

Tokiya looked at me with a surprised face.

While I had once held the pink dress in front of me, I had never actually worn it. And because there was no mirror, I had no idea how it looked on me.

I felt the blood rise to my face.

I was sure it didn't really suit me, but I didn't know what he thought of it.

"What do you say?" I asked reluctantly.

His answer was,

"Why are you wearing that?!"

"......Eh?"

I couldn't quite understand.

Those were presents he had given to me.

A pink dress. A white hat. A pair of red glasses. A illustrated watch.

Each of them was a present.

"So you didn't pay attention after all, did you?"

"Eh?"

"I'm going to repeat once more what I said back then, so listen up."

With these words, he reproduced the explanation he had given me during those 22 blanked-out seconds.

</div>

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

"D-Don't get me wrong, okay? It's a present, but it's not a present. You look like you have no idea what I'm talking about, huh? Well, perk up your ears! To tell you the truth, I happen to be under the effect of a strange Relic. Something like a curse. It's an absurd curse that makes my money disappear if I don't use it on the same day as I earned it. And the nasty thing about this curse is that it also makes everything disappear that I bought for myself. In short, nothing remains. Therefore, this is not a present. It's only kind of a present, and I'll have you return it to me afterwards. This is a present for you, but you have to give it back to me later. Got it?"

That is what I had told her back then, and at the same time it's the strategy I had worked out.

In other words, in order to spend all your money and still make no loss, you just have to give it to someone as a present and reclaim it when the curse is lifted.

I was going to return those articles, claiming that they didn't fit or that they didn't suit my taste. To be sure, I only chose trustworthy shops that would let you return the goods within a week. Since returning everything at the same shop was unreasonable, I went through the trouble of switching shops every day. As a result, the type of articles also changed.

In the worst case, I could still sell them as used goods. That would mean some loss, but it was still better than losing everything.

It was a splendid idea based on taking advantage of presents.

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

<div style="color: #75365A; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
"So that was it what you were doing..."

"Yeah! But I did explain it to you and I even asked if you understood! Oka...?"

I retreated into my room without listening to him.

After switching on the light and took a look in the mirror. A dress, a white hat, a pair of red glasses, a illustrated watch—in there was a Saki wearing things that didn't suit me at all.

I felt like laughing. But I couldn't.

I pulled off the white hat, removed the illustrated watch, took off the red glasses, got out of the pink dress and regained my usual appearance.

Then I put them back into their boxes.

(They are going to find someone they suit better than me.)

I left the room and gave them back to Tokiya.

"Please don't be angry because I wore them, okay?"

"No, of course I'm not."

After that, I saw him to the door. Tokiya suddenly patted one of his pockets in which he had put his new wallet.

"Ah, and thanks for the wallet!"

"Don't mention it."

With an uneasy face, he added, "You can have them if you insist?" and returned the bag with the presents into my hands.

"———!"

I thrust the have-been presents back at him with full force and shut the door.

Losing all my power, I sank down against the entrance door.

(What am I doing?

What have I been expecting?

As if my fate would allow me to have any hopes.)

"...how careless of me, really."

People—namely Tokiya—often say that I have no feelings, but that's not true. I merely have trouble showing them, but naturally I do have feelings, and my heart is as sensitive as everyone else's.

To the degree that it hurts when my hopes are deceived.
</div>

<div style="text-align: center">◆</div>

As I said earlier.

I did explain my strategy to her. And she did nod.

I even confirmed once more because I didn't rule out the possibility that she hadn't listened. And she said that she understood.

I was not at fault. I was not the only one at fault.

But I had pangs of remorse.

There had been signs that she hadn't understood, and I hadn't actually explained it one more time to her.

It was partly on purpose that I hadn't done so.

I didn't expect her feelings to swing back and forth like that just because of a present.

No, I did think that she might get a little angry. I was even interested in seeing her angered face.

It was a light feeling.

I was irresponsible.

I was careless.

But still—

—I didn't think she'd cry.

It's not like she shed tears. But I had never seen her eyes so wet.

Perhaps she was crying in her room at this moment.

As I leaned against the wall besides the door, I made the stupid realization that even she had such feelings.

I always considered her down-to-earth and as someone with few emotional highs and lows.

I still don't think that's wrong.

But that's not the same as emotionless.

She does have emotions. They just don't usually appear on her face, and it's hard to read her thoughts, but she does feel joy, anger and sadness.

Today, I saw her angry and her sad face.

The angry face didn't come unexpected in a sense.

But by now I had realized that it wasn't that face I wanted to see.

(I would have been able to avoid this if "Vision" had activated...)

This irresponsible thought crossed my mind and added to my self-scorn.

Suddenly, the door was opened.

Saki looked down at me.

"You forgot something," she said in an evener voice than ever and held something out to me.

It was the crescent-shaped pendant I had given her today.

"Hey, did you not listen to me?" I asked.

"What? Is there still something you forgot to say?"

"Are you doing this deliberately? Or do you really not know?"

"I'm giving it back to you deliberately! Or do you want me to go return it for you?"

"...You sure don't listen to what I say, do you?" I sighed. "Why would I buy something to return today? The curse is already lifted!"

"?"

"Come on, I told you earlier that this is a true present now!"

"A... true...?"

It finally got through to her.

—That there had been no reason anymore to buy a temporary present today.

"Originally, I went to the department store to buy myself a new wallet, but when I saw you gaze at those accessories, I changed my mind."

At the time, I hadn't known that she had bought me a wallet. Thank goodness I didn't buy one.

"...It's not like I approved of what I was doing! But you were the only one I could rely on. And you even made me lunch. That's why I thought about giving a real present to you, as a token of gratitude!"

Honestly speaking, I didn't think it suited me to do that. Nor was it pure gratitude. I just somehow felt the desire to buy it for her. I also hoped to see a smile from her.

I noticed that my presents baffled her. I did not notice that my presents pleased her, but I did have a hunch.

That's why my conscience pricked me. If I had thought otherwise, I wouldn't have had any remorse.

"......"

Saki turned away from me.

But her hand was facing me.

In this hand she was holding the pendant I had given her.

"Put it on me."

I took her pendant and stood behind her.

Holding the corners of the chain, I lowered the pendant from above and put it around her neck. Finally, I fastened the clasp.

When I brushed up her silver hair that had gotten under the chain, I noticed that her cheeks moved slightly.

Aah, what a blunder.

I should have picked a ring.

That way, I could have looked at her face while putting it on—

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Tsukumodo:Volume 1 Memories and Notes|Memories and Notes]]
| Return to [[Tsukumodo Antique Shop|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Tsukumodo:Volume 1 Afterword|Afterword]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>