Editing KSGU:Volume 6 Chapter 1 (section)

===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.