Editing KSGU:Volume 1 Chapter 1 (section)

===Part 5===

The dock of a space colony was called a docking bay, mostly as a holdover from when space development was still under way. In that age, when humanity finally found a way to send space stations into low orbit above Earth, the ships that went to and fro were just docking with the space stations. The size of the stopping point wasn't large enough to be called a “bay”. There were also quite a few cases of space stations being linked to each other. Regardless of terminology though, the early space constructions were just relay platforms.

Right now, the docking bay at the front end of the space colony had seven space docks of different sizes inside its cylindrical shell, and a spaceship at the dock would merely be stopped in zero gravity, waiting for the immigration check and other bureaucratic procedures. The zero gravity industrial area of Industrial 7 was linked to the docking bay, so there was a ring-shaped construct that reached out from the space colony. Including the cylindrical docking bay, the entire assembly was over 3.5 kilometers long. All of the factories in the colony had a dock for transport ships to dock, so there weren't just ten or twenty ships that came in and went. There were so many of them it was like fireflies surrounding a high pressure bottle.

4:15 AM. The <i>Garencieres</i> became one of those fireflies as it gradually approached the brand-new docking bay of Industrial 7. The space colony was only half complete and still new, and the platform showed a dim glow. Even more eye-catching, though, was the light reflected from the solar panels. The four rows of five kilometer-long rectangular solar panels were aligned beside the space colony, and their main surface was always facing the sun. The electricity obtained from the solar panels was sent to the space colony via microwaves. To the isolated environment of the space colony of Industrial 7, this was a must.

Of course, it was very easy to get electromagnetic interference when the electricity was being transferred, so the solar panel wouldn’t be in a path where ships docked. Despite that, the <i>Garencieres</i> grazed by the solar panels and reduced its velocity relative to Industrial 7. As the ship past a piece of solar panel reflecting sunlight, the hatch opened, releasing a mobile suit from the hangar.

There was a dark green body and a single, glowing pink eye. This was an AMS-129 “Geara Zulu”, the mobile suit that made up most of the Sleeves’ fighting forces. It looked like a cross between a knight from the Middle Ages, and an early 20th Century soldier wearing a helmet and a gas mask. As it moved past the solar panel, the mobile suit dropped off the <i>Garencieres</i>, using the shield on its right shoulder to reflect sunlight, and soon began to let out bursts of thrust. Next to the large solar panel, the 20 meter-tall, human-shaped machine was like dust. Once it slipped through a gap behind the structure of the solar panel, it was as good as invisible.

Not even 10 seconds had passed from the time the Geara Zulu left the <i>Garencieres</i> until it disappeared behind the solar panel. Even though the ship’s trajectory had been cleared, this region of space still had lots of debris around, and the space traffic control couldn’t possibly notice a single ship’s mysterious actions. Even if there were someone serious enough to take out a pair of binoculars and look, the light reflected off the solar panel would conceal everything. Marida Cruz looked back at the solar panel, then back at the ship’s bridge.

Located on the left and right sides of the bridge were the helmsman’s station, and the navigational station, respectively. In the back, and slightly elevated over the rest of the bridge, was the captain’s seat. The bridge of the <i>Garencieres</i> was full with just those three things, and those who didn’t have a position here couldn’t stay for long without getting uncomfortable. However, since the ceiling still had a definite height, there weren’t much problems when under zero gravity. In zero gravity, everyone on board could squeeze into the three-dimensional space the bridge provided.

“This will take a while,” the captain, Suberoa Zinnerman, bellowed to the microphone, “But it’ll be over before the day is out. Just bear with it.”

The old captain’s hat, brown leather coat, and rough stubble of moustache made him look like the stereotypical captain of an old trading ship. However, his eyes were sharp.

<Yes, Captain.>

The acknowledgment that came back through the wireless communicator couldn’t hide its anxiety.

The one who responded was Savoir, the pilot of the Geara Zulu. He would be hidden under the solar panel for a whole day to watch the outside of Industrial 7. They hadn’t let the enemy know about the deal, but since they had been ambushed by the Federation, they couldn’t trust in the kind intentions of the other party. If they were closely inspected once they entered the dock, Savoir’s Geara Zulu would wreck havoc.

If that were the case, not only would Marida sortie in her Kshatriya, but the other Geara Zulu would launch too, piloted by Gilboa Sant. Right now, he was in the navigation seat, busily explaining to the control officer why they were slightly off course. Gilboa was 30 years old, with a friendly and approachable face. He had pure black skin that was rare to see nowadays, and was the father of three children. In the helmsman's seat on the other side of the bridge was the 27 year old Flaste Schole. Compared to Gilboa, Flaste gave off a cold and aloof vibe. Though he looked rather unapproachable, he was really a good big brother-type who took care of others. All the other members of the crew trusted him. He was a long-time acquaintance of Zinnerman, and the number two man on board, supporting the captain from behind.

The entire compliment of the <i>Garencieres</I> was 33 people, including the mobile suit team and the crew of the ship itself. Amongst the Sleeves which the Earth Federation had declared "Terrorists who appear from nowhere, then disappear", they could be said to be a specialized unit. With Captain Zinnerman leading them, the entire crew were disguised as members of a trading ship, so they weren’t as rigidly structured as a military organization. The main forces of the Sleeves seemed to view them as radicals too, so it was like Zinnerman was leading an independent group, or an underground organization carrying out a mission. In fact, they had received this mission precisely because of this nature. Because of the recent ambush by the Federation Navy, however, the ship had an atmosphere of not quite knowing how to deal with this mission.

They were headed to Industrial 7 to collect Laplace’s Box, which the Vist Foundation claimed it would provide. At first glance, this was a mission that anyone could do. A mission that even a delivery company could do. The only strange thing about the whole affair was that no one knew what Laplace’s  Box actually was.

“We’ve bypassed the inspection completely,” Gilboa said worriedly once he had ended the conversation with the traffic control officer, “It seems that the Harbor Authority was notified too, so we can dock without an investigation…. I don’t understand.”

Marida looked over at him, and through the window in front of him she could see the guiding lights leading to a thumb-sized space gate.

“The thing we’re after is in the port on the other side of the colony, right?” Gilboa asked, “Why won’t they let us go there? Since it’s connected to the colony builder, wouldn’t it be easier to carry out the deal if we weren’t allowed into the colony itself?”

“That colony builder is said to be Vist Foundation property,” Flaste responded, “Odds are, they don’t want us getting too close.”

Industrial 7 had only opened the port on the Earth side of the colony, and the port on the moon side was covered by the colony builder. The builder itself was a large installation that could purify and use the space dust in the debris field to make parts for new space colonies. Not just the the employees of the builder, but even the people living inside the space colony were said have their movements restricted. While it was no one knew whether the Laplace’s Box of rumor was real, this colony builder was still a good place to carry out a secret deal. However, for some reason, the Vist Foundation wouldn’t let them go directly to the colony builder.

“They’re being cautious", said Zinnerman as he drank from a can of coffee, “We are the dreaded, illegal Sleeves after all.”

Zinnerman’s self-moking tone washed away the doubts of his subordinates and reminded everyone that they were in danger. Despite that reminder, though, Flaste continued on, a rare feat for him.

“So, what is this “Laplace’s Box” thing, anyway? You should probably tell us, right?”

That was the question that went straight to the core of the issue. Gilboa looked back at Zinnerman in the Captain’s seat. Zinnerman shrugged.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s some huge, shocking treasure.”

“It’s well-hidden, but the Vist Foundation is just one huge organization, and it’s deepin bed with the government and Anaheim Electronics,” said Gilboa, “The colony builder is their main base, right? Those guys who deal with the Federation government would actually offer us a treasure? I just don’t understand what’s going on here.”

This was precisely what everyone on the <i>Garencieres</i> was thinking, but Zinnerman just continued to look aloof. He answered, “This is information we got from Full Frontal, so we can trust that it’s at least accurate.” He looked at Marida, who just so happened to look back at him.

"There is definitely something wrong with this situation, what with that ambush and all,” Zinnerman said, “Don’t let your guard down.”

Marida nodded at this warning, and looked out of the window. Luckily, the port official’s ship was closing in, and Flaste and Gilboa started speaking into the radio, and the conversation ended. Marida looked at the numerous lights and readouts, checking that everything  was normal.

At this point, there were three things they knew. First, they would be provided with the Box for free, provided they followed the instructions of Vist Foundation. Second, the item was large, so it had to be transported via cargo ship. Because of this, they had only two Geara Zulu even though they could normally hold three. On the other hand, the fact that they only took one fewer mobile suit showed that Zinnerman was being cautious on this mission.

However, the most important point was the third one. This thing called Laplace’s Box had the ability to overturn the world—shake the Earth Federation to its core and radically alter the status quo—it could be some scandal in the current administration, or an ultimate weapon that could bring about an overwhelming military victory. It was important though, otherwise headquarters wouldn’t have agreed to the Vist Foundation’s invitation. Right now, the Sleeves were such that even if it was only a trace of hope, they had to grab it.

All that aside, no matter what was inside Laplace’s Box, Marida’s mission was to protect her master and follow his orders. That would never change. If the box really existed, they would bring it back. If it was a trap, she would break through it. No matter how much of a sacrifice she had to make, she wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest.

Marida looked out again at Industrial 7. The isolated space colony, and the secret locked inside it, was floating amidst the stone and metal debris. The <i>Garancieres</i> followed the guiding lights and entered the docking bay. As the ship was about to be assigned to a space gate, Marida saw numerous small objects flying past into outer space. She consciously checked the appearance and number of objects, checking to see if they were dangerous.

They were cylindrical objects, with short legs and arms for work, and bubble-shaped canopies covering a pilot. These human-shaped machines were about as tall as two humans. Marida determined they were mobile suits used for short-range work around the port.

A total of eight mobile suits flew by, perhaps here to clean the runway, then, another dozen of the miniature mobile suits past the <i>Garancieres</i> . As he looked at the squad of three-meter-tall mobile suits, Gilboa said, “Those are Bubbo’s company machines.”

“Junk Collectors?”

“Yeah. Lots of space colonies opened up franchises. They probably came here because of Anaheim’s outsourcing project. It looked like good work, and thanks to the One Year War, there’s enough junk to last hundreds of years.”

Gilboa sounded somewhat heavy-hearted, perhaps feeling that he was in the middle of creating even more junk. Flaste didn’t respond to him, and Marida just looked at the mini mobile suits floating in vacuum.

As they let out a thruster boost, the mini mobile suits started to move toward the space dust in orbit. They would cut down those things that were too big to carry back. To them, junk was just junk; just a commodity to reclaim in order to decide who gets more back. <i>“There’s a life like that then,”</i> Marida thought. A life where she wouldn’t take other people’s lives or have her life taken. After thinking about her life in one year, ten years, or even longer, a life to fight for tomorrow would…

<i>“The enemies shot down today may one day be reclaimed?"</i> Marida looked at the lights that didn’t involve her and thought.