KSGU:Volume 7 Chapter 1 - Revision history

Teh Ping: /* Part 9 */

2013-05-19T05:45:24Z

Part 9

Teh Ping: /* Part 8 */

2013-05-18T15:07:41Z

Part 8

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	===Part 8===		===Part 8===

			Mineva suddenly sensed someone calling out for her, and lifted her head.

			The mobile suit deck for any ship that was built looked all too similar. In this wide space, approximately 30m in height and 50m in width, the mobile suits docked in the hangar were lined up like Buddha statues. A lot of the machines’ paint was worn off, probably because they were involved in quite a few actual combat situations, and the welding sparks could be seen scattered. She could immediately tell that they were Federation mobile suits, machines with chiseled shoulders standing beside each other, and the emotionless eyes covered with goggles were staring at the wall over it.

			''Am I thinking too much here? Mineva looked around, and let out a soft sigh. At this moment, a foreign looking object appeared in her sight, causing her to stop. At the only area where a perimeter was set up, the spotlight was on the horn of a certain mobile suit’s forehead, dazzling brightly—

			“A black “Unicorn”…?”

			There was a golden horn atop the pitch black shiny armor, and Mineva could not find any other appropriate vocabulary to describe it. Right beside it was the familiar white “Unicorn”, lined side by side with it, and the facemask giving off a certain regal presence was facing the space opposite it. the reason why it looked more slender as compared to the first impression was most probably because of the overly savage look of the black “Unicorn”. The pitch black machine with golden ornaments on the armor gave it an appearance beyond that of rigor. Unlike the “Unicorn”, which had a certain comforting harmonic feeling to it, it gave a feeling of indifference, not willing to communicate with anyone. it was most likely that they originated from the same place, and these two machines that could be called sister units actually looked so different…

			''Since the “Unicorn” is here, Banagher should be somewhere inside this ship, right? Mineva again looked around, only to be greeted by a female voice, “Welcome, Your Highness Mineva Zabi.” She turned her face around, and found a middle-aged woman dressed in violet suit standing right in front of her, with several men awaiting behind her.

			“I’m the substitute leader of the Vist Foundation, Martha Vist Carbine. The long journey has certainly been tough on you.”

			The woman said this as she bowed politely; however, her condescending expression was completely different from her tone. ''This is the daughter of the Vist family who married into the Anaheim Electronics chairman’s family, and if I remember correctly, she should be Cardeas’ little sister.'' Mineva recalled the information that was investigated before she left Neo Zeon, and at this moment, the woman who called herself Martha took a step forward slowly, her thick perfume scent teasing Mineva’s nose.

			“You’re really young and pretty. This is the inside of a battleship, but please relax, Your Highness, we’ll ensure your personal safety.”

			“Does Senator Ronan Marcenas know about this?”

			Once she was brought back to the mansion, Mineva did not have the chance to meet Ronan at all as she was jettisoned off to the plane and sent all the way here. She knew that the jet was sent over from the Vist Foundation, but she did not know what sort of dealing Ronan had with the Foundation, and she did not know the reason why she was brought onto this Federation ship at all. She realized that she did not know the name of this ship at all when she spoke up cautiously. “Of course.” However, Martha answered, her deliberate smile not wavering at all.

			“We’re moving with the same objective as Senator Ronan. This should be your wish itself too, Your Highness.”

			“My wish…?”

			“We want to seal the “Laplace Box”.”

			Mineva could not help but gulp, and Martha, upon witnessing this, turned her lips that were coated lightly with lipstick into a smile. “I heard that you left Neo Zeon for this reason, Your Highness. I can assure you that the “Box”, which will bring about disaster, will be set aside in a place nobody in the Foundation can touch, whether it was, is, or is to come.”

			Martha’s gestures were indicating that this was an act, and when she bowed, her stare looked up at Mineva. ''This woman is dangerous.''—the latter’s instincts were yelling, making her body tense as she clenched her fists tightly.

			===Part 9===

Teh Ping: /* Part 7 */

2013-05-18T14:30:38Z

Part 7

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	===Part 7===		===Part 7===

			The large body of the black “Unicorn”, kept within the hangar, looked like it was able to shake the air around it, and the demonic presence it gave was reminiscent of an ancient Eastern demonic sword. Like the “Unicorn” lined beside it, the hangar was surrounded with rope preventing entry, and the specifically designated guards from the Vist Foundation were the ones surrounding them. The rumors that they were still undergoing adjustments seemed to be true, as there were sensors attached to the gondola at the abdomen, and a large number of cables were snaking out from the cockpit. Instead of saying that it was maintenance, it was probably more apt to call it an ‘experiment’. Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney looked up at it, “I heard it’s called the “Banshee”.” and nonchalantly said.

			“It’s the second unit of the white guy, tested under gravitational conditions. The ones being beside the machine all day seem to be the members of the Augusta Newtype Research Institute.”

			“Newtype research? Wasn’t that sealed up long ago?”

			Sub-Lieutenant Nigel McGusiness, who had been listening beside, asked back. At this moment, “It’s because it’s not sealed that those guys are here.” Watts answered, seemingly believing in not thinking too much with regards to unexpected situations. Lieutenant Nigel Garrett stood beside both of them as he leaned on the handrail of the catwalk, and after seeing his handsome face, Riddhe held in his sigh as he looked at the “Banshee”. He could see the two Unicorn-type mobile suits lined on the wall opposite from the catwalk inside the mobile suit deck.

			It seemed that the mobile suit deck of the “Ra Cailum” was over its capacity as it was docked with the 12 “Jestas” it could contain , the “Delta Plus” and the two “Unicorns”. It was possible to contain these machines only by using the overhaul space deep within the bow and the rear deck that was used for staring the Base Jabbers. The back of the deck was used to store the transport carrier of the “Banshee”, the “DO-DAI”, which took up a lot of space. In the end, the contingent from the Vist Foundation showed no regards for anyone else, and even set up a forbidden entry zone in a corner of the deck. It was to be expected that Nigel and the other original crew were to feel repulsed by it. The mechanics moving around would show looks of hidden motives, and the atmosphere within the ship was as unfriendly as it could deck.

			If there was work, they could at least distract themselves, but the “Delta Plus”, which overexerted itself during the previous battle, was moved to the overhaul space, and the assigned chief mechanic, Sergeant Hanna, was currently carrying out full disassembly. Until the unit became humanoid, there was nothing Riddhe could do, and he could only give a glum look together with the Tri-Stars and stare at the unique machines with lone horns. ''I should have brought the model along,'' he carelessly thought about this out of a sudden. He could not contact his father who seemed to be on his way to Dakar, and could not meet Banagher, confined within the ship, as he wanted to. He could not do anything, and did not know his situation. ''Might as well turn my back on everything—''

			“Haven’t you heard of anything, lord Ensign?”

			The burly Watts did not realize Riddhe’s feelings at all as he gave a gruff voice befitting his body build. “About those white and black mobile suits, are they not related to the orders the Senate Council gave you directly?”

			“I don’t know. Those guys really annoy me too.”

			“And you have the cheek to say that. Isn’t there an order in the ship to secure that white gy?”

			“I heard that it launched from a Neo Zeon ship. Didn’t your “Delta Plus” work with it to defeat that mobile armor? It’s really too unbelievable to hear you say that you don’t know know anything.”

			Daryl too followed up on this conversation. Riddhe withstood the urge to click his tongue as he looked back at both of them. “Is that the mobile suit in the UC plan?” but Nigel interrupted, causing Riddhe’s heart to race.

			“It’s written on the shoulder.”

			Nigel leaned beside the handrail as he pointed his chin, and Riddhe looked over at where he pointed. Over there, the words “Project UC” were clearly indicated on the right shoulder armor of the “Unicorn”. Daryl casually added on, “Ah, that’s true.” And Riddhe slumped onto the wall weakly.

			“If it’s designed to fight with this guy, then there’s a reason for the extremely high specs o the “Jestas”. Most likely, they’re meant to move beside this guy and clear up all the small fry while this guy charges right at the enemy’s core…like a Newtype controlling Psycommu weapons, for example.”

			After hearing Nigel’s plausible deduction, “What, now we’re its prey?” Watts grumbled as he twisted his lips, while Daryl said, “That’s not right, isn’t it? We were planned to be the test pilots for this thing.” ''How much has Nigel observed regarding this?'' The Tri-stars captain merely spoke calmly, “It might be a good thing we aren’t the test pilots.” as he did not pay heed to Riddhe’s probing glance from beside.

			“This guy’s mobility isn’t normal when it transforms into a “Gundam”. A normal pilot probably won’t last 5 minutes in it. It’s impossible to design it to such a ridiculous extent if it wasn’t planned to be piloted by Cyber-Newtypes in the first place.”

			“Cyber-Newtypes…” Daryl’s face suddenly turned pale as he muttered this. “With those guys from the Newtype research institute around, I guess you’re right.” Nigel however said nonchalantly; Riddhe followed his stare and looked at the cockpit from the cockpit. He could see a human silhouette in full black pilot suit from between the gaps formed by the sensors on the gondola. The pilot’s appearance was covered by the helmet visor that was pulled down, but the slender figure could be distinguished from the pilot suit. The pilot looked weak, but the physical body was giving off a certain hardiness, reminiscent of a puppet with a spring inside.

			''Is that a woman?'' Riddhe looked at that machine-like pilot’s body, and as he leaned his body over the handrail, there was a short and stout man with a contrasting figure there, blocking his sights. It seemed that Alberto sensed Riddhe’s stare as he gave an antagonistic glare as he put his hand on the pilot’s shoulder and brought her into the cockpit. Riddhe originally thought that he was merely a high-ranking person in the Anaheim Electronics company, but he was an important member of the Vist Foundation. That man, who boarded the ship with the chairperson called Martha, had taken the ship and the “Unicorn” as his personal property. ''What in the world is dad doing now?'' Riddhe grumbled deep within his heart. ''He let the people of the Vist Foundation interrupt, so why hasn’t he given me any instructions yet? This is a chance to snatch the “Box” from the Foundation and release the world from the 100 year curse. I abandoned everything and came here in order to pay for the Marcenas’ sin—''

			“You mean that if we end up becoming this thing’s pilot, we might end up being enhanced…?”

			Watts whispered as he looked at the back of the pilot who disappeared behind the cockpit hatch. There was already a rumor amongst pilots that a Cyber-Newtype was a synonym of being a vegetable. ''Then what about Banagher?'' Riddhe pondered, and then shook off this question without an answer before it exploded his head, and lifted his head at the sound of a machine being activated as it rang throughout the deck. The large shutter leading to the aft landing deck was opening slowly.

			The air became wind due to the difference in air pressure, and it flowed into the gap of the shutter that was being opened. As Nigel’s slightly long hair swayed with the wind, Riddhe, who was standing beside him, spotted a small jet on the other side of the shutter. The moveable jet engines below the wings stood vertically, and the machine that was being towed in by a tractor unit entered the mobile suit deck.

			“That’s a civilian craft.”

			“Seriously. We sure have a lot of guests coming in.”

			Watts and Daryl looked dumfounded as they commented, while Nigel continued to give an unceremonious observing look. Riddhe felt shocked as he too looked down at the approximately 10m long mini jet. The mini jet stopped in the middle of the deck with mobile suits overlooking it on both left and right side, and the mechanics immediately ran towards it. the wheels stopped, and once the hatch on one side of the jet opened, Riddhe could see men in black suits walking down the ladder, before a familiar face followed as it appeared in his sights.

			“Mineva…?”

			Riddhe nudged aside his heart, which was beating loudly as he bent half his body over the handrail. He could see a proud-looking girl flanked by men in suits on both front and back as she walked down the ladder. ''Why is she here?'' He felt dizzy as his blank mind suddenly had this thought. ''She should be at home. I came here to ensure her safety. Why is she showing herself here? Why is she looking so tense? It’s like she was forcefully brought here—''

			“AUDREY! AUDREY BURNE!”

			The fact that Riddhe did not call out Mineva’s name here proved that his sanity was still functioning at least. By the time he realized it, Riddhe had already yelled out, and was starting to wave at the mini-jet parked approximately 50m away from the aft. This alone however wasn’t enough for him, and he immediately rushed out. “What’s going on?” “Is she someone he knows?” he left behind Watts and the rest as he dashed to the end of the catwalk. He could identity Mineva’s chestnut-colored from the back of the “Jesta” fastened on the hangar, her appearance clearly etched in his eyes.

			''Why must you come here? You can’t stay here? There’s a malicious intent to make use of you swirling here!'' Riddhe poked his body from the end of the catwalk, “AUDREY!” but his voice was gone with the wind. He could not bring himself to waste any time further by clicking his tongue as he immediately dashed off to the nearest airlock. If he wanted to move from the catwalk to the deck, he would have to first return back inside the ship, move through the passages, ride the elevator or use the ladder. The ship’s construct that was designed for zero gravity use had never made him as spiteful as this moment.

			===Part 8===

Teh Ping: /* Part 6 */

2013-05-18T07:20:26Z

Part 6

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	“Sounds good. This is how the Garencieres team move. However, it’ll be hard to take action on the “Ra Cailum”.”		“Sounds good. This is how the Garencieres team move. However, it’ll be hard to take action on the “Ra Cailum”.”

	“This is worth a shot. Tell Tunick to focus on the satellite feed and don’t ~~lose~~ miss out on any of the “Ra Cailum”s actions.”		“This is worth a shot. Tell Tunick to focus on the satellite feed, and don’t miss out on any of the “Ra Cailum”s actions.”

	''They’re like us here, they can’t possibly be flying forever. If we focus on their movements, we’ll definitely get a change to take action. First, we have to gather our fighting strength.'' Zinnerman thought as he summoned the map of the South Pacific sea charts on the monitor. “What do we do with the brat?” and then, he heard Alec’s question.		''They’re like us here, they can’t possibly be flying forever. If we focus on their movements, we’ll definitely get a change to take action. First, we have to gather our fighting strength.'' Zinnerman thought as he summoned the map of the South Pacific sea charts on the monitor. “What do we do with the brat?” and then, he heard Alec’s question.

Teh Ping: /* Part 6 */

2013-05-18T07:18:33Z

Part 6

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	===Part 6===		===Part 6===

			(…We can count ourselves lucky to be able to get back a single “Zee Zulu”. The incident in Dakar caused all the patrol fleets roaming around the colonies to gather on Earth’s orbit. The “Garencieres” has to leave Earth as soon as possible and leave the absolute defense zone until the preliminary stage is set up.)

			The intensity of the scattered Minovsky particles was set at a very low level, but the communication feed of the ship as it moved through the atmosphere was still very bad. Due to the static, the expression on Full Frontal’s face, shown on the console’s communication monitor, was less visible than usual. Suberoa Zinnerman felt the plaster at the end of his eyes tighten, “Yes…” and answered. He could tell that Alec and Flaste, seated on the steering seat and navigation seat respectively, were pricking their ears from behind their seats.

			(The Federation has increased their surveillance frequency, and this communication signal may be tapped on. Please tell me the new coordinates data you received from the Psyco Monitor, captain.)

			“The “Unicorn” has fallen into the Federation’s hands. I suppose the enemy has already known this new information.”

			(Despite so, the “Ra Cailum” that reclaimed the “Unicorn” seems to be moving very slowly. It seems that there was a mishap that caused them to lose this new information. Currently, luck still remains on our side.)

			The lips below the mask showed a twisted smile as Frontal concluded. He, who gathered the Neo Zeon fleet, was looking down at the commotion on Earth from his flagship, the “Rewloola”. It seemed that the report from the Zeon supporters who got into the political world had already reached his ears at the first moment. Once the Vist Foundation, currently on the “Ra Cailum”, use more of their political power to force the high ranking government officials to submit, the more information would be leaked through the political route. Besides, those Senators who once benefited from the Garvey Enterprise’s business dealings were being investigated privately, and as nobody knew when they would be pursued to take responsibility, there was a tense atmosphere permeating throughout. Without know what kind of changes there would be the next day, people would start to talk due to this restlessness. Whether the entire Federation army finished sorting out their investigations, it probably would not be hard for the “Garencieres” to force an escape route out.

			But to Zinnerman, this currently was not an important thing. It had been 2 and a half day since that incident, and the Federation military’s security on all of Earth’s ground was already elevated to combat level. The Zeon forces everywhere were already being shut down, and at this point, it was not just one or two guerilla groups being eliminated. Even the “Garencieres” had to hide from the satellite surveillance in the skies above the Euro-Asia continent before finally managing to establish contact with the “Rewloola”. The amount of fuel they had left was less than 3 days’ worth, and since there was no place left for them to resupply, they had no choice other than to retreat back to space with their tails between their legs. However, from the conversation he had with Frontal, Zinnerman managed to hear out on any other possible related information.

			The “Rewloola” in space did not receive the relay signal from the Psyco Monitor. In other words, at this point, only the “Garencieres” had the coordinates data indicated by the “Unicorn”—Zinnerman kept his face from showing the hint of this possibility on his face as he met Frontal in the eyes through the monitor. “Then, it doesn’t matter even if we leave the “Unicorn” alone?” He asked with an emotionless expression on his face.

			(Of course, we’ll send other people to grasp its whereabouts. We can’t be sure that the data from the “Unicorn” will be intercepted. I have already prepared other ships with Psyco Monitors to follow in place of the “Garencieres”. You just have to consider bringing the information back.)

			''Was I seen through?'' The ostensibly deliberate reminding voice caused Zinnerman to have this fleeting doubt, and he let loose of all other thoughts as he looked back at Frontal again. He gripped onto the Captain’s armrest that would not be shown on the monitor, “May I ask you about something?” and cautiously asked.

			(What is it?)

			“Why did you choose to support Mahdi Garvey’s battle?”

			Flaste and Alec both turned their faces around in surprise from behind the console, but Zinnerman merely continued to look at Frontal on the monitor. (Are you unhappy about it?) the masked face asked, “No”, and Zinnerman responded, giving a looking indicating that he was the one asking the question.

			(That truly wasn’t a wise operation.) After two, three seconds of silence, Frontal answered quietly. (If the fact that Neo Zeon took part in this operation was revealed, the losses on our side will surely be significantly. However, Captain, the Federation had never taken this much damage since the asteroid drop 3 years ago. What I want to see is how defiant the public is against the Federation.)

			“The public…against the Federation?”

			(Leaving aside the Spacenoids, there are also Zeon followers amongst Earthnoids. However, they could only declare their unhappiness by showing their anti-establishment. What will happen of those people see the one-sided brutal massacre on Neo Zeon’s side? What exactly will be the response when those people hear the news that it’s not a colony or an asteroid being dropped, but a massacre where humans can be heard screaming from close range…? I hope to use this chance to be sure by using the “Descendant of Dubai” as a cushion of the impact. This is to help determine the new direction for Neo Zeon once we get the “Laplace Box” in the future.)

			The thin smile under the mask resonated with Mineva’s voice as she said, '' “He’s a dangerous man”''. At this moment, Zinnerman felt a certain tense emotion breaking within him, and the balance that was swaying side to side had tilted to one side. “I see. Understood.” he kept a still expression as he answered. Frontal’s eyes under the anti-glare filter let loose a probing expression, (I’ll await your return), and he disappeared from the monitor.

			This was already within Zinnerman’s expectations, but the masked face had already thrown aside the guilt from its conscience and its hesitation, showing no signs of remorse at all—and even brazenly in front of his subordinates that he was experimenting with public opinion in such a mocking tone. He felt a very indifferent chill rather than fatigue, and clasped his hands together as he leaned on the back of the captain’s seat. “Is this okay?” Flaste asked with a meaningful smile.

			“You don’t look pleased at all, captain.”

			“You’re the one who said that you want to know what Frontal’s hiding, not me, right?”

			Zinnerman glared back, and Flaste shrugged as he turned forward. Alec moved his large body that even the steering seat could not fit as he looked at Zinnerman and asked, “Then , what do we do now?”. The latter closed his eyes, called back the thoughts he suppressed only a moment again, “Change our course.” and declared with his tone being that of a captain.

			“True bearing 182. Avoid the sights from the satellites and move to the south Pacific.”

			Alec blinked his eyes in surprise, showing doubt, and Flaste beside him was tapping at his fingers, looking like if he expected this. if they were planning to mouth above the equator in order to fly into space, he would not mention the Pacific when he gave this command. “Aren’t we going back to space?” Alec asked, but Zinnerman did not look at him as he looked over at the clouds outside the window in front of him.

			“We haven’t saved the princess and Marida yet; we can’t leave just like this.”

			“But, our fighting strength alone—”

			“You want to go back?” Flaste glared at Alec, seemingly ready to chastise the latter by saying, ''You really don’t know anything.'' “The Captain never mentioned anything about the Princess, let alone Marida.”

			''Are you serious?'' On realizing this, Alec gasped, and his originally suspicious stare at Zinnerman became one of reluctance as he turned his head to the front. It did not matter whether they could do it or not. Ever since the end of the First Neo Zeon War, the “Garencieres” had been protecting Mineva during the rocky times, and to them, the option to leave her behind and return to the “Sleeves” base never existed. There were a lot of things in Zinnerman’s mind that he could not part away from; Mineva, Marida and the “Unicorn” that was the equivalent of the key to the “Box”. “There’s always an order of priority to things”, he said as he scratched his hard beard on his chin.

			“It’s true that we can’t do anything now. Right now, all the government organizations have upped their security.”

			“Then…”

			“Let’s get back the “Unicorn”.”

			Zinnerman’s determined tone caused Alec to turn his speechless face around. “We can use that as a trade bait to the Federation for the Princess and Marida. Since they don’t have the data on the “Box”, this works for us.” Zinnerman continued, and Flaste whistled at him as he answered,

			“Sounds good. This is how the Garencieres team move. However, it’ll be hard to take action on the “Ra Cailum”.”

			“This is worth a shot. Tell Tunick to focus on the satellite feed and don’t lose miss out on any of the “Ra Cailum”s actions.”

			''They’re like us here, they can’t possibly be flying forever. If we focus on their movements, we’ll definitely get a change to take action. First, we have to gather our fighting strength.'' Zinnerman thought as he summoned the map of the South Pacific sea charts on the monitor. “What do we do with the brat?” and then, he heard Alec’s question.

			“Of course we’re going to get them all. That package’s worth more here, right captain?”

			And just like before, when both of them were sitting and fighting with their stares, Flaste said this with a meaningful look in his heads. Zinnerman recalled Banagher Links eyes that were etched in his, and made an unhappy frown on his still swollen face, “Depends on the situation.” as he briefly replied. Flaste gave a bitter smile on his face and retreated behind the back of the navigation seat. soon after the order to change navigation path was made, the sea of clouds outside the window started to flow sideways quickly.

			The “Garencieres” turned its triangular prism ship shape around as it drew a wide arc above the clouds and quickly moved to the southern sea. The ship looked as fast as ever as it escaped the perimeter set by the “sleeves”, and the sun that was dazzling radiantly was the only thing watching over their whereabouts.

			===Part 7===

Teh Ping: /* Part 4 */

2013-05-18T01:17:57Z

Part 4

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	===Part 4===		===Part 4===

	“…I have no intention of undermining Londo Bell’s independence. However, though you are an external organization, the fact still remains that you belong to the Federation’s space fleet, right? You have to listen to the order of the Senate chairman.”		“…I have no intention of undermining Londo Bell’s independence. However, though you are an external organization, the fact still remains that you belong to the Federation’s space fleet, right? You have to listen to the order of the Senate chairman.”

	Martha spoke as if she was a customer complaining about faulty goods. Her face, which was abnormally bewitching for her age, brought an overly intense flavor to the otherwise bland Captain’s room of the “Ra Cailum”. Bright Noa glanced aside to look at his impatient-looking First Officer Meran, “I have no objections to this order.” and showed a steeled face as he answered.		Martha spoke as if she was a customer complaining about faulty goods. Her face, which was abnormally bewitching for her age, brought an overly intense flavor to the otherwise bland Captain’s room of the “Ra Cailum”. Bright Noa glanced aside to look at his impatient-looking First Officer Meran, “I have no objections to this order.” and showed a steeled face as he answered.

Teh Ping: /* Part 4 */

2013-05-18T01:17:08Z

Part 4

Show changes

Teh Ping: /* Part 3 */

2013-05-17T11:16:51Z

Part 3

Show changes

Teh Ping: /* Part 2 */

2013-05-17T05:28:22Z

Part 2

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:28, 17 May 2013
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	===Part 2===		===Part 2===

			It had been more than a day, but the sky of Dakar broadcasted through the television was still a light brown. Perhaps it was new dust raised during the removal of rubble and relief aid, or perhaps it was the deaths of 40,000 who were killed without reason lingering at this place.

			The wreckage of the mobile armor was surrounded by several construction machines, showing its body amidst the hastily assembled scaffolding. There were so many wounded that they were lined on the corridors, and the dire situation of the city hospitals was such that one would mistake them for guerilla hospitals. The wasteland of rubble that extended beyond the horizon, the dead and wounded that overlay on them, and the marquee messages for the missing were all roaming under a color of tea brown. Ronan Marcenas stared at the number of casualties that continued to increase in thousands, and felt a familial sense of guilt in his heart— ''are these the victims of the Box?'' As he felt this surge of emotions, he looked away from the television in his office. He turned his chair to the window where the sunset was shining in, and brought his ear to the phone receiver tucked between his shoulder and cheek again as he remarked wryly, “Everyone’s being extremely busy now. It will hurt to have suspected without proof here.”

			“This incident is really completely unexpected to us. As you know, Dakar has a lot of capital invested in it. I’m just telling you over the phone that I too used the name of my company to buy Dakar company shares. What benefit does it have to me to turn the shares I have into scrap paper?”

			(It can stimulate the Federation army realignment plan—I wonder how you feel if you explain it this way?)

			A woman’s voice let out this immediate answer through the hotline phone directed via satellite. (This incident most definitely shows that there are threats still present on Earth. Including the space forces, this can prompt the armed forces on Earth to strengthen themselves and sweep all Zeon forces before the Republic dissembles…it will definitely bring about great economic benefit. The loss of the stocks in Dakar can be replaced easily like that, right?)

			Martha Vist Carbine—the Empress of the Moon was a woman not to be underestimated. This determined and influential person was just as the economic and political world described, and at this point, she was snickering on the other end on the phone. She had just gotten onto the “Ra Cailum” which rushed off to Dakar, and she was already on the Captain’s hotline phone as she made this call to Ronan’s office, giving this deliberate taunting words. Ronan had already known that Martha came to Earth, but he had to admit that she, who dealt with the situation in Dakar faster than anyone else, who even sent in the 2nd RX-0 to the scene as a souvenir, was abnormally active in this. Ronan pulled in the “Ra Cailum” to search for the “Box” in order to prevent the Vist Foundation from interfering, but looking at the current situation, he was being apprehended.

			Since Martha could interfere with the backing of the Senate Council Vice Chairman, it was likely that she had at least acquired the approval of the Senate Council chairman, or even a high ranking official approval—this possibility did exist. ''To these high ranking officials who would react according to the winds and cared only on their short-term benefits and self-preservation, how much impact will the incident in Dakar bring to them? How much restrain will they abandon?'' Ronan felt through the phone call that Martha had everything clear in mind, “In that case, you’ll be the ones benefitting from this, right?” and answered back, smearing mud on the other party’s face.

			“Anaheim Electronics President’s wife…no, I should be calling you the substitute leader of the Vist Foundation now, right?”

			(Just call me Martha.)

			“Then, Martha, even if our main plea is to increase the military supplies, we will definitely not use the capital as a sacrifice. Unlike Lhasa three years ago, we have many casualties on the government’s side too. First, the party that triggered this incident wasn’t Neo Zeon, but Islamic radicals who preached about breaking away from the orthodox teachings.”

			At this moment, the television just so happened to show the Garvey Enterprise building, and Ronan turned his sights to glance at that image. There were police cars parked right in front of the building, and the investigators carrying cardboard boxes were gathered in hordes like ants at the main entrance. The investigations included the dealings with other companies, and the initial stage of the various procedures with regards to the freezing of the Garvey Enterprises assets were most likely completed. The solar generators Garvey Enterprise had were absorbed under the Government’s control, and the operating profits would be used to rebuild Dakar and compensate the bereaved relatives of the victims. This process was most likely planned to the details by assistance teams created by related independent organizations. Fortunately, or not, the Senate Council and the surrounding official areas managed to avoid this calamity, and the Senators were slowly gathered at this capital that was off its alert phase, summoned for an emergency parliamentary meeting.

			The objective of the man named Mahdi Garvey was still unconfirmed, but this one terrorist attack was not enough to cause the gears of money and power to stop. The bribery of the supervising institutes to build that mobile armor, the political contributions, and the expenses required to rebuild the capital; these was the bloodstream of the capitalist society, locked within a sealed loop. ''Did this man descend upon madness because of the “Box” too?'' He looked at Mahdi’s VTR that was being replayed again, and uttered these words in his heart before looking back outside the window again. (These radicals you say have a Neo Zeon insignia on their mobile armor. Also, there were eyewitness reports of the “Sleeves” mobile suits, right?) Martha argued back and used her voice to choke Ronan’s neck.

			“There are always implications behind lawbreakers, regardless of principles or propositions. Anyway, the shock from this incident is second only to the previous “Char’s Counterattack”. The security on all the government facilities have to be increased, and all ships moving to and from Earth will be checked on without exception. Of course, including the remnants of Neo Zeon, we will carry out the thorough eradication of the terrorists. Considering he economic losses from the delay in shipments and the added adjusted budgets on both the military and public safety sides, I wonder how much more money we will have to spend here—”

			(Chairman Ronan, what you said is ostensibly right, but we civilians have it tougher in terms of money. Let’s stop groveling in the dirt on each other and talk about something that will benefit both parties.)

			“I hope so too, but I am someone who has to get to somewhere immediately too.”

			(Then I’ll cut the chase. I heard that a certain highly esteemed visitor is currently residing in your residence, Chairman. I hope you can hand that person over to our care.)

			Ronan’s heart that would not be shaken by practically anything suddenly skipped a beat, and his hand that was holding onto the receiver trembled. He had already prepared himself when he asked the military for a full time surveillance watch that ‘her’ staying in his house would soon be revealed, but he never expected the other party to stab him first. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say…” Ronan immediately answered, but Martha again took the initiative as she cut him off, (You’re the one who said that you don’t want to waste time.) and spoke with a cold tone.

			(This is for that person’s safety too. The terrorists chose to attack the capital during the parliament break, and most likely, the media will think that the government’s trying to creating an act. The opposition that think that the money should be allocated to welfare instead of the army realignment plan will stand on the same frontline as the media, and the final responsibility will be pointed at the Settlement Issues Council that has been pushing for the realignment. At this point, if people find out that the princess of Zeon is hidden in the house of the Council chairman…)

			The leaders of the military body moved only for body, secretly colluded with Neo Zeon, and planned a terrorist attack using Islamic militants as a cover-up to help increase the budget of the Federation army’s realignment plan—this script that could not be overturned easily immediately flashed through in Ronan’s mind, and his held himself from clicking his tongue and closed his eyes. “This is really an impeccable rhetoric you have there. One might even suspect that you’re the mastermind here!” Ronan retorted sarcastically, and Martha could not hold back her snicker (The majority of the society only believes in what they hope to believe) as she spoke with a cold tone.

			(Everything is a conspiracy set by the Settlement Issues Council. I suppose this story should be an exciting fantasy the foolish public will like, right?)

			“Will the secretive Foundation hiding the mysterious “Box” appear in that fantasy?”

			(Let’s see. If the media is willing to let go of all advertisements related to the Foundation, with Anaheim Electronics first, they’ll definitely be able to write a more interesting fantasy.)

			''Did she expect everything here?'' Ronan realized that this opponent was not going to be easy as he gave a sigh of realization, “Speaking of the Foundation, I did hear of a rumor.” and raised a topic to revive the situation.

			“The Senate is currently discussing about reevaluating the laws of societies and foundations. If this bill is passed, the audits for public welfare will be stricter, and the non-profit organizations that exist only in name will be taxed like legal entities. In other words, the idea of taking advantage of a non-taxable privilege to hoard funds for the Foundation won’t work. Amongst it, the Foundation may most likely have to disband.”

			(What has this got to do with the secret organization hiding the “Box”?)

			“Of course it has nothing to do with it, but the premise before that is that you must certainly have the “Box” first.”

			The breath from the other end of the phone vanished, and for the first time, Martha answered back in silence. Ronan was not bluffing; he had prepared countless legal ways to force the Vist Foundation into a corner for this moment. He held his breath and waited for the other party’s response, but after several seconds, (I won’t let you lead me here.) Martha merely answered coldly.

			(Please hand “her” to the Foundation. This will benefit both sides.)

			“Leaving aside my side, what benefit will you get?”

			(You can think about that. We’ve acquired the mobile suit that’s basically the key to the “Box”. Don’t forget that the benefits and ills of preventing the “Box” from being revealed works for both of us.)

			Ronan lost the battle completely in this one. The RX-0 which contained the signals locating the “Box”, the authority over the “Ra Cailum” and all the bargaining chips on the table were in Martha’s hand. It was difficult to deal with the aftermath of the Dakar situation with the power of the Federation government alone. if he did not rely on the power of the Vist Foundation, he would end up causing the government to dissolve. (Please make a decision as quickly as possible.) Martha then spoke in a rhetoric, not even a question, and Ronan let out a heavy sigh.

			(Just send her to the “Ra Cailum”. You do know the location of the ship now? It’s where your prince is working hard at now.)

			“Yeah, this world is so small. I should ask you not to do anything to my son, shouldn’t I?”

			(Why would I? I don’t want to be enemies against you.)

			Martha finished this conversation with a thoroughly sarcastic reply and cut the line. Ronan put down the receiver and looked at the sunset that was redder than before, leaned on the back of the leather chair, and sighed.

			The neighing of a horse came from the courtyard, and the window trembled slightly. ''That’s Pilgrim, right? Riddhe had been riding it around for a while, and once he left, it naturally can’t shake off its excessive vigor;'' This was what Dwiyon revealed to Ronan. He looked at the photo hanging on the wall, a photo with Ronan and a 5-year-old beaming Riddhe, and turned to look at the television without sound. A VTR of the disaster that was probably taken by a victim showed a collapsing skyscraper, the dust that loomed, and the people who were unable to evacuate in time. That scene was just like Hell on Earth.

			''Did Riddhe witness this battlefield too? He, bounded by the destiny of the Marcenas family, and treated his affections for the princess of Zeon as the only solace, did he witness this hell too?'' Ronan was emotionally-struck by a sense of depression and switched off the television.

			''After this, Riddhe will experience all sorts of despair again. He will think that his father betrayed him, will harbor hatred where he can’t release it, and will wait for things to develop, but this can’t be helped. I can only do this to let him and the world he lives for continue to exist. I can only do this to prevent the 100-year-old curse from toppling the world''—Ronan closed his eyes silently, let out a sigh, opened his eyes again, and picked up the receiver of the internal phone.

			“Bring Miss Mineva Zabi over.”

			===Part 3===

Teh Ping: ...Think I can forget about the last paper on the 21st. orz

2013-05-17T03:44:15Z

...Think I can forget about the last paper on the 21st. orz

New page

==Chapter 1==

===Part 1===

The air was filled with the peculiar odor of paint and overheated wires, a stench unique to a military battleship where one would have no choice but to accept that he was in a sealed space. The liftgrip lined along the wall became a long and useless installation under gravity, and what was extended in front of Alberto’s eyes was a passage that was without any characteristic except for practical use. Alberto Vist was running down the passage, ignoring the bouncing of his loose flesh whenever his soles hit the floor and his struggling knees as he dashed down the long passage. He pushed aside the battleship crew on the passage, arrived at the T-junction where the wall stood in front of him, and saw the air lock of the mobile suit deck he was looking for.

He, who was so anxious that he was seemingly about to knock into the door panel, did not check the values of the pressure gauge as he pressed the opening switch. The wind that blew outside was proof that the air outside had moved into the mobile suit deck. At this point, the “Ra Cailum” was moving in a relatively low height, but the air pressure at 500m height was still a lot lower than the air pressure maintaining the inside of the ship. Alberto arrived at a corner of the mobile suit deck that could be called a large hollow cave, followed the narrow channel along the wall, poked his body out from the handrail and looked at the bow of the ship. The shutter linked to the catapult deck was completely opened merely moments ago, and the blunt heavy sounds caused by the metals stepping on the floor rang throughout as he saw an abnormally shaped uniformly black machine pass through the shutter.

The streamlined cold-looking machine had a mask that completely covered the profile of its face. The mechanics solders saw majestic sight of the golden shining horn at the top of the “Banshee”, and stopped whatever they were doing as they gave it a look of shock. The white machine of the “Unicorn” could be seen beside the “Banshee”, but this machine that had a horn too was slumped weakly and could only stand straight with the support of the “Banshee”. The left arm equipped with the shield was slumped limply while the muzzle of the beam Gatling was almost sticking to the ground.

As seen through the monitor on the bridge, the pitch black shiny armor of the “Banshee” showed no signs of any scars as compared to the “Unicorn” that had lost all life within. Alberto basked his face in the air filled with the stench of oil, stared at the white machine that was thoroughly stained in dust, and charged towards the mobile suit hangar located at the wall. He could see Bentner and his assistants, dressed in white clothes, on the gondola beside the hangar set aside temporarily for the “Banshee”s use as they worked on the observation equipment they brought into the ship.

The “Banshee” ignored the humans looking at it as it bent down like a human and let the “Unicorn” resting on its shoulders slump onto the deck. “How’s the situation?” Alberto panted as he got onto the gondola from the gap and asked Bentner, whose bald head turned around as he arched his back, saying,

“I should say that it’s more ideal than what we expected here. The adaptability the specimen showed with regards to the “Banshee” is rather flawless, and there’re no problems with the link with the NT-D.”

Albeto looked at the Newtype Research Facility Head who was sneering away and felt a sense of unease rather than relief. The backdoor left beforehand meant that the brainwashing was incomplete, and someone sent her in discreetly. “This is a case of being easier than it is. Perhaps Madam Martha’s values managed to provide an influence here.” While Bentner continued on, Alberto reached his hand for the elevator button of the gondola, and descended 10m while Bentner and his assistants hurriedly grabbed the handrail. Once the gondola stopped, he hopped onto the deck.

The “Banshee”s massive frame was headed towards the hangar as it moved its feet that were as large as an automobile. Alberto glanced aside at the abdomen that was approximately level with the 4th storey, and at that instant, recalled the face of the “specimen” inside the cockpit, and ran towards the “Unicorn” lying slumped on the deck. The mobile suit squad that was deployed to Dakar had already returned, and the deck hangar was already half-filled with landing crafts. Alberto told himself secretly to finish his own job before the ship crew and pilots calmed down. He darted around the feet of the “Jestas” that were giving off smoke caught from the fires, and crossed the deck together with his subordinates who were starting to gather around him. “WHAT’S GOING ON!?” However, an angry roar stopped him in his tracks.

“I just got blindsided by that black “Unicorn”! Call out the pilot! Who’s the one in charge here!?”

The pilot was stopped by the subordinates in black suits, but he still turned his furious stare at Alberto, who had an impression on his face. He spotted the machine, the “Delta Plus” that was lying on its back as it was being taken in after the assault of the “Banshee”, and faked a genuine smile as he answered, “My my, isn’t that Ensign Riddhe?”

“I heard that you died in battle on the “Nahel Argama”. It’s really great to see you safe and sound.”

The pilot widened his eyes and gave a startled look back at Alberto. “You’ Anaheim’s…” Riddhe Marcenas said, “I’m Alberto Vist of the Vist Foundation.” only to be interrupted by Alberto, who looked over the shoulder of his subordinate and stared right at the blond hair that looked agitated from the battlefield.

“I have to apologize to you for the inappropriate handling of the situation. The Foundation ordered the pilot of the “Banshee” to secure the “Unicorn” as a top priority mission.”

“The “Banshee”…you’re referring to that black “Unicorn”?”

“Exactly. Currently, it’s the RX-0 with the highest completion rate, and doesn’t have the excessive item of the Laplace Program. One can say it’s a mobile suit that’s purely designed to tackle Newtypes.”
Riddhe gasped and pulled his lower jaw up, showing the guilt of a similar secret they shared. He, as the real son of Ronan Marcenas, was a hawk sent from the Settlement Issues Council, and Alberto understood this as well. ''Don’t let him get close''—Alberto commanded with this expression and ignored the stare clinging onto him as he tried to turn away. “Oi, hold it! What authority do you people have…!” An angry voice followed, but Alberto shook him off by saying “Captain Bright understands.” And quickly approached the “Unicorn”.

There were burn marks all over the white machine as it was dyed a layer of black stain. A steamy hot wind blew at Alberto’s face as the latter arrived at its feet. The mechanics equipping with firefighting equipment were on standby around the machine in case a fire broke up. “Nobody’s to get close to it! That’s our Foundation’s property!” Alberto growled and put on the gloves his subordinates handed him as his moved through the crowd. As his subordinates scattered to prevent any of the ship crew from approaching, Alberto did not find as he brought his hand to touch the still-scalding “Unicorn”.

He climbed up the ladder his subordinate prepared and used the front armor at the waist as a footing and climbed to the cockpit hatch at the abdomen. The key of the “Laplace Box” Cardeas created, this pure white machine that bore the fate of the world—was finally in front of his sights. Alberto originally intended to use the “Ra Cailum” as the base for the search, but he never thought that he would be able to get his hands on the “Unicorn” right after he met the ship. He would not allow anyone else to interfere, and intended to immediately cut up the abdomen to extract the secrets of the “Box”. He used his gloved hand to touch his face that immediately felt feverish, stood beside the cockpit cover, and whispered to his subordinate that followed up, “Do it.” The subordinate nodded, opened the access hatch, and pulled the emergency lever. The sound of hot air being exhausted could be hoard, the cover that covered the torso to the abdomen was opened, and the rectangular cockpit hatch appeared in front of Alberto’s eyes.

The cockpit was still bright as it was function. Alberto waited for his subordinates to draw their automatic pistols, checked the situation inside the cockpit, nodded, and stepped into that cramped ball-shaped space. On the linear seat surrounded by the all-view monitor, one could see a pilot in his suit, lying limp on it.

Banagher Links—he muttered the name he could not shake off in his heart ever since he arrived onto Earth, and peered at the groggy face through the helmet. ''The swollen face looked like it was punched before; is it because he was exposed to the tremendous G-force?'' Alberto shook off this suspicion that suddenly appeared in his mind and looked around at the all-view monitor which displayed the scenery on the deck. There was nothing abnormal to note of, other than a few windows that were not functional. Alberto did not know the circumstances which led to the “Unicorn” taking part in the battle of Dakar, but since the NT-D was activated, there was a very high probability that new information was revealed. He brought his hand to the linear seat, stared at the monitors that were full of static noise, and then turned to look at the display board on the seat.

Alberto saw that on the 3 display boards, the middle one was showing the “La+” logo, and his heart immediately jumped. This was the thing, the Laplace Program that lit the way to the “Box”. Since the system was on standby, he would be able to retrieve the data just by operating on it. ''Is it an intermediate point here? Or is it going to reveal the location of the “Box” directly?'' he looked behind, checked that no one was peeping into the cockpit, and reached his trembling hand for the touch panel. at that moment, the sound of the power being shut off rang, and he was surrounded by darkness.

The all-view monitor images disappeared, showing the ball-shaped monitor panels. The “LA+” signal disappeared like an illusion. Alberto desperately activated the switches of the standby power, but no matter how he tried, there was no electricity, and the touch panel’s signal did not revert to its original state. ''Was the generator cables burnt off?'' He wiped his forehead that was sweating like rain, and as he reached his hand for the monitor beside the linear seat, he saw a white object flash by his sights.

“It’s useless there.”

From below the helmet visor, the whites of Banagher’s eyes appeared in the darkness, and his swollen face was distorted with a smile. The monitor did not shut off naturally, it was switched off—Alberto felt a chill in his mind as he understood this, and stared at the boy lying limp on the linear seat. The latter’s firm stare overlapped with Cardeas’ eyes, and Alberto felt the sweat on his body cool down.

===Part 2===