Editing KSGU:Volume 3 Chapter 1 (section)

===Part 7===

The high pitched siren rang inside the helmets through the wireless communicator. This summoning siren for the Marines sounded exceptionally pitiful here as it brought about a lonely presence, ringing through Riddhe Marcenas’ ears.

Soon after, a rumbling could be felt under his feet, and the large catapult gate was closed. The gates that closed in from top and bottom sealed off the catapult that was 20m on all sides, hiding the large catapult that was floating upright in the vacuum. During this time, before the hatch closed completely, Riddhe and the rest were lined up in front of the catapult, raising their hands to salute. The catapult hatch for landing was still open as they awaited the machines that had not returned…but no matter how much they waited, the people who did not come back would never come back. It had been more than half a day since the battle people would record as ‘Battle Of Industrial 7’ in the future happened, and the Nahel Argama was headed to a new situation. Riddhe and the rest remembered the people who passed away, and had to take their next steps forward. The souls of the pilots who died in this battle should had returned home—

<So everyone wasn’t able to make it…>

Lieutenant Commander Norm Basililock muttered as the thick gates closed up and the warning lights flashed, indicating that pressure was moving in. He once requested the superiors to keep the gate open even after 12 hours, and after the 17th hour, the mobile suit squadron leader whose attitude softened might still be able to see the remains of his subordinates floating in the vacuum. Riddhe turned to look at Norm, but he could not see the expression on Norm’s face as it was covered by the visor. Riddhe could not say anything as he could only mix around the troops after the squadron was dismissed, and went down one airlock after another inside the ship.

Riddhe removed his helmet and hung it on the hook behind him, walking down the mobile suit deck that already had air. He sees that most of the mobile suits were not back inside the hangar as the silent metal wall just remained there, feeling thoroughly dejected. There were 5 “ReZELs” that were definitely destroyed, and 3 “Jegans” as well. ECOAS also lost what looked like a tank, and the remaining one was lying in a corner of the hangar under a canvas. There were 3 confirmed survivors, and one of them had only minor injuries while the other two were lying inside the ship’s intensive care room for treatment, so there’s no hope of them return back to the front lines. The mobile suit deck that had already lost 2-thirds of their fighting strength had a relaxed presence of air inside. The sounds of cranes moving and welding caused the melancholy of lights fading to be even more acute.

“Deborah, Nazal, and even Commander Ian…that’s quite the heavy loss.”

“Leaving aside the R003 Romeo that was ambushed, the other 7 units were all taken down by the same machine, right? And we let that guy get away.”

“That’s two-thirds, two-thirds! How are we going to regroup with so many units taken down? Even if we count in the spare “Jegan”, there are only 5 mobile suits we can use! We can’t even form a squad!”

“We can only wait for reinforcements. In this situation, we can’t even hang on if that four-winged of the Sleeves attacks again.”

“I still haven’t massacred that J4 Juliet ReZEL guy who beat me in poker…”

As there was no loud chatter like usual, the conversation between the mechanics became extremely shrill. Riddhe subconsciously clenched his fists and floated by the mechanical frames that were lined up in such a way that it looked like they were tombstones. ''Stop blaming us all the time,'' Riddhe grumbled deep inside his heart. ''It’s not that the cowards survived or the brave soldiers died. What separates these people is just luck. When the death god swings its large scythe, a slight difference of whether we’re standing or sitting will decide the outcome. In this situation, no matter whether it’s experience, ability or courage, none of them have any help.''

Death just came by so simply, causing the people who survived to feel lost. Though Riddhe had thoughts of taking revenge for his allies, that sort of feeling was like taking a gamble. Maybe it was just an instinct, the only way for him to feel at ease. To Riddhe, things like hatred for the enemy and regret had become really alien to him. To put it directly, he lamented not being able to feel regret. Riddhe felt angry over being so inexperienced that he doesn’t know what to do with his body that was still alive. ''Sooner or later, I might have to use the memories of the people who have died as part of dishes—''

As he thought unhappily, the voices of the people were further away. Before he realized it, Riddhe was already right in front of his own machine that was being maintained. The machine itself was covered in soot, and the NAR-008 that was spray painted on it had become unidentifiable, but the machine itself was not significantly damaged anywhere. Riddhe looked up at the “ReZEL” that did not have any signs of a graze from the beam rifle and realized that he did not do anything. He took the cable gun and pulled himself to the cockpit. Several cables extended out from the opened cockpit, making it hard to identify the back of Mechanical Officer Jonas Gibney who was working inside.

The tall and burly body was bent as he was holding the keyboard that was attached to the display board. The back profile looked like it was crying, and Riddhe gasped slightly. The old timer NCOs had completely different views from rookies who were assigned here like him, and they seemed to have a passion-like will when being on this ship. They just went through an official battle for the first time since being on active duty again, and this battle took many lives too. Having experienced this again, Gibney might have been hurt more than anyone else. Riddhe was unable to think of what to say as he let out a call, “Mechanic officer…” and that thick body turn around with a glare of killing intent right on him.

“DAMN YOU! YOU EVEN DARED TO BRING SUCH A TOY ONTO THE BATTLEFIELD!?”

His savage face looked a lot more heinous than usual as he tossed the hand-sized plane model right at him—that was the model Riddhe brought into the cockpit before the battle and forgot that it was inside— “Ah, no, that is…” the voice that was let out was stuck inside the throat, and Riddhe backed his body as he floated back. “WHAT IS THAT!?” Gibney continued to glare at him as he moved out, and the large body was standing right in front of the cockpit’s hatch.

“It’s because you took this thing out with the attitude of going to a picnic that we got massacred by the Zeon remnants!”

Gibney opened his legs and forcefully stepped on the cockpit hatch, kicking Riddhe out. Riddhe could not do anything as he floated around in zero gravity, his back crashing into the hook-shaped armor that was extended out from the “ReZEL”s crotch. The surrounding mechanics were all shocked as they looked at both of them, only to show a ‘here we go again’ look as they turned back. Riddhe quickly stood up, glared at Gibney and yelled, “YOU’RE JUST USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO VENT YOUR FRUSTRATIONS OUT!”

“I FOUGHT HARD IN THE BATTLE AS WELL! DON’T VENT YOUR FRUSTRATION ON ME!”

“IT’S POINTLESS IF YOU DON’T SHOW ANYTHING! JUST TAKE THIS AWAY AND PLAY!”

Gibney threw over the plane model and snorted. Riddhe did not look at his face as he merely stared at the little biplane flying over his head before kicking the armor besides his feet instinctively.

Riddhe felt that it was stupid to think about this, yet he also thought that it was less depressing this way as he feels motivated all of a sudden as he started to chase the plane that was moving through the deck in a dreamlike state. Perhaps it was because the original design was suitable for aerodynamics as the biplane model’s wings easily passed through the air, flying to the wall on the opposite side without slowing down. The biplane moved through the narrow spaces between the cranes, reached the narrow catwalk at the wall, and flew into the crowd working on it.

A person moving through dodged it and used his hand to grab the biplane that suddenly flew over. Riddhe was a step slower in reaching the handrail of the catwalk, and was surprised by the side of the face of the person who was not wearing the uniform. He was wearing a deep blue jumper and jeans, and had slightly long ash-brown hair. His face was smaller than the man who was walking in front of him by a size, and one could possibly call him a teenager—

[[Image:KSGU3 060.jpg|thumb]]

“Ah, sorry.”

“No…that was nicely done.”

The boy handed over the biplane he caught as his mouth relaxed, staring over at Riddhe. Those eyes had no hidden intent in them, but they were rather strong-willed. There was a sharp glint in his eyes, one that did not match his obedient looking appearance. Riddhe stared at those eyes that were giving off some mysterious pulling force, and was confused by some form of fluttering in his heart, but looked up once he noticed the other stares around him. Commander Daguza Mackle, who was walking in front, glanced over at Riddhe without any expression.

Riddhe immediately saluted and moved away from them. The boy’s face was soon blocked by the adults as he walked into a place that could not be seen. ''If he were a refugee that’s being moved…it’s overly cautious to surround a boy with a gang of people. What’s most suspicious is that even the Manhunters are amongst them.'' Riddhe watched the group of around 10 people walk by, and finally found a familiar face at the end. He moved over to that person, a rookie who was assigned to the security force at the same time Riddhe was assigned here.

The security troop had a sling on his usual secondary uniform, and his head had an anti-round helmet with a white line drawn on it. Riddhe went over to greet him, and brought his face closer to whisper, “Who is that guy?” he pointed at the boy with his chin, and the peer answered softly, “The brat who piloted the ‘Gundam’ just now.”

“It’s him…!? He’s still a kid.”

“Didn’t I say it before? I heard that they’re going to carry out tests on him later.”

''The Gundam-type mobile suit who forced the ‘Sleeves’ four-winged to retreat with its overwhelming power and this boy walking in front of him who looks like a kid;'' Riddhe never thought of linking these two thoughts as he can only remain still. During this time, the group of people had already walked all the way to the front, and the peer kicked the floor hard to catch up. Riddhe followed suit and moved beside the peer.

“What now?”

“Aren’t you going to the “Gundam”? I heard it even got a solid shield and rifle. I want to look too…”

“No no, outsiders are not allowed. The guys from Anaheim and the Manhunters are already arguing loudly over the rights, so it’s already boiling point here.”

“They’re the outsiders.”

“It’s pointless to tell me that now.”

''Move on move on.'' Riddhe was chased away by his peer as he could only stop unwillingly. The group got on the lift at the end of the catwalk, and the peer who followed in at the end was in charge of closing the lift. For an instant, Riddhe’s eyes meet the boy’s eyes, but he did not have the time to check his impression on the boy. The door that was closed cut off the boy’s stare as the lift moved to the lower deck.

Below the mobile suit deck, there was a mechanic deck that was also called the factory inside the ship. This was a place that was used when a machine needed a change of parts or that there needs to be a large-scale repair. The Gundam-type mobile suit that was taken in was kept inside here—or to put it correctly, if it was the same as when it was taken in, it should be the one-horned mobile suit that did not look like a “Gundam”. The enraged Riddhe kicked the elevator door and used the recoil to bounce back, grabbing the airlock that was installed inside the ship. ''Everyone looks really tense now, so can’t you understand other people’s feelings now?'' Riddhe grumbled some meaningless rants about others in his mind and left the mobile suit deck.