KSGU:Volume 8 Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Part 1

“…Did you hear the broadcast in the bridge? All personnel are to head to the mobile suit deck without exception.”

“But you can’t extract the people with drips here, you know!? How am I supposed to deal with them under zero gravity? It’s okay if we’re talking about the guys in the infirmary, but the patients in the ICU can’t move. There’s a clause in the constitution that allows for wounded soldiers to be treated too.”

This familiar voice rang with a stubborn force of anger in her ears. Marida Cruz widened her eyes, and her blurry stare looked around.

She saw the white ceiling of what seemed to be an infirmary. It was not the ceiling of the “Garencieres”, and once she understood this, there was a weak electrical surge flowing through her body, and she turned her heavy head in the direction where the sound came from. There was a hulking male figure outside the curtains surrounding the infirmary bed, wriggling there; it was someone she knew, one of the members of the “Garencieres” crew, Alec, the backup steering pillow. He had a bulky figure, but he was timid, and at this point, he was holding onto a sub machine-gun. She also had an impression on the man in white clothes, whom the gun was being pointed to, but she was not too familiar with him. He was the military doctor in charge of treating her when she was captured and brought aboard the “Nahel Argama”, and she remembered that he was called Hasan…

Suddenly, a headache caused her blurry vision to be interrupted. What’s going on? Wasn’t I brought to Earth? Her body felt heavy, and her mouth still felt a little numb; she felt gravity, but she wondered whether she was on Earth or in space—she closed her eyes, and then opened them again, and looked outside the curtain with a clearer vision this time. “Say something too, Mr. Gael.” Hasan said as he looked past Alec, and stared upon the 3rd figure.

“It was for a short moment, but you did work together with them, right? Even if you want to occupy a ship, there has to be some basic rules here. Isn’t there anyone easier to negotiate with?”

From the gap between the curtains, she could see the side face of a silent man. She looked into the black eyes of the bald man who seemed to be full of vigor, and realized that this was a face she saw before too…as she thought about this, “It’s useless.” A sudden voice caused her eyelids to numb.

“We’ve been on this “Nahel Argama” far longer than the time he spent on the “Garencieres”.”

Zinnerman said as entered her vision, and he looked at the man called Gael. They exchanged sinister looks, and after a moment, Zinnerman looked away. “…It’s useless to hope for terrorists to abide by rules, is it?” Hasan said these words, and Zinnerman turned his firm stare over at him.

“That’s how it is. If we’re not recognized as soldiers, there’s no need for us to follow the rules.”

ZInnerman pulled the handgun from his waist and pointed it at Hasan nonchalantly. The sudden tense atmosphere jolted Marida’s dull body, and her body shuddered as she laid on the bed. Zinnerman however seemed to notice her presence, and shuddered for a moment before looking over at her. “Dr. Hasan.” Gael brought the silence.

“Zinnerman’s serious here. It’s best to listen to him now.”

“But…”

“We can only let them take the men away. They should be able to recognize that we’re bringing along necessary medical equipment.”

Gael again looked at Zinnerman in the eyes, showing an embolism of restrained emotions. “You need to let us check through the stuff.” Zinnerman frowned as he said this, and then lowered his gun pointing at Hasan. The latter glared back, but left unwillingly after being prompted by Gael, “I’ll help out too. Let’s go.” Alec seemed to be relieved, but Gael did not care as he followed Hasan.

“How unfortunate.”

Gael’s burly frame muttered as he passed by Zinnerman, and then disappeared from her vision. Alec too left, and the side of Zinnerman’s face was the only thing left through the gap of the curtains. The black eyes tried to suppress the emotions it just could not do so, and they were twitching on his emotionless face. Master seems to be in pain. Why am I still lying in such a place? Marida bent her back, wanting to bring her upper body up, but the tremendous pain on her flank caused her to grit her teeth in agony, “Mas…ter…” and she eked out the voice in an interrupted manner. Zinnerman walked over to her in large steps, and the bearded face she ostensibly had not seen in a while covered the light panel on the ceiling.

The faded leather jacket gave a little gunpowder smell. The chilly air outside flowed into the bed, causing her to feel a little tense as she laid down it defenseless. “This is…?” She let out a dry voice, and could not exert strength into her limbs freely. Zinnerman placed his hand on her forehead, “Don’t worry.” He said silently,

“I won’t ask you to move, so just sleep for a while here. Everything will be over when you wake up next time.”

The touch of the rugged palm moved from the forehead to the eyelids, giving warmth that seeped into her body and mind. That’s right. This is the hand that called me, and pulled me out from the darkness. Marida recalled this, but this was still unable to shake off her sleepiness. She closed her eyes slightly, and reached her arm that ostensibly had the drip on it at Zinnerman; her outstretched fingers touched the latter’s. It’s daddy’s hand. This non-contextual line appeared in her mind, and the body warmth of Zinnerman beside her vanished.

There was the sound of the curtains being pulled up, and the body that was surrounded by the cold and silent air outside drifted away gradually. Marida watched the back silhouette that was full of hardship, realized that she had no ability to support him, and let her body, ostensibly as heavy as lead, sink into the bed.

Part 2

This space was way too spacious for Gilligan, whose eyes were already used to the mobile suit deck of the Musai-Kai. The ceiling that was 7 levels tall was 30m in height, and the walls that were probably80m long had many hangars for maintenance lined up. If there’s another deck for launching and landing, this ridiculously large yet empty place is most likely a storage. There’s a construction area for disassembly located below the floor, and yet they managed to preserve a space 2 times smaller than this; got to hand it to them there.

“I suppose only those people with their souls sucked away by gravity can think of making a mobile suit stand on this deck.”

Upon hearing Gilligan’s little half-joke, “Yeah.” Lieutenant Keiman answered. It had been 2 years since Gilligan last entered a Federation’s ship for a common exercise, but the “Mock Wooden Horse”—the “Nahel Argama” had far more surplus items compared to the other ships. He looked at the 12 hangars lined along the wall, and felt that it was truly a waste of space. A Republic’s ship would effectively use the space on the ceiling and the floor to ferry double the number of mobile suits.

However, the “Nahel Argama” was in a situation which could only be described as desolated. There were 2 standard sized machines on the hangars, and there were 2 of the “Sleeves” Geara Zulu beside it; on the opposite wall, there were 4 Gultoppr squadron’s “Hizacks” lined up, with Gilligan’s custom unit at the forefront. The Federation units with the goggles were moved to a corner to make space for the monoeyed units that inherited the design of the “Zaku”, and this scene was the best proof that this ship was under the dominion of Zeon. However, these were merely large tools used to enact the current situation. Gilligan poked his body out from the catwalk beside the hangar and let the atmosphere of sovereignty enter his eyes.

The bright red armor leaned its back against the wall close to the bow, ostensibly floating in the air. That was the “Sinanju”, the unit of Full Frontal, whom they called the Second Coming of Char. The presence it gave off really gave a vibe that it was the true revival of the Red Comet. This “Sleeves” mobile suit was truly the baron of this current atmosphere. The cockpit covered laced with gold ornaments on the side opened, the pilot appeared from within, and the mask that covered the eyes and the forehead left more confidence in Gilligan’s heart as he felt affirmed.

It seemed true that the man really would not wear a normal suit even in battle. As his eyes pursued the bright red uniform, “It’s just like Char…” Gilligan muttered to himself, and he touched the rank insignia sewn on his mantle, dangling in front of his chest. The insignia that was sewn onto the mantle through memory fibers would not float easily even in zero gravity. The place was secure in the airlock, but it certainly would not be a good idea to remove their normal suits in the mobile suit deck of an enemy ship; however, Gilligan commanded his subordinates to change into the Republic army’s mantles, as he felt that by wearing the clothes given by the Federation, he could not become one with the current atmosphere.

What kind of people are we, the Republic army, to him? Gilligan tidied his mantle as his eyes pursued after Frontal, and then, the white mobile suit caused him to frown. The lone horned giant standing at the bow side of the deck did not match the deck dominated by the Red Comet. “Is that the “Gundam”…?” Keiman seemed to have seen the same thing as he muttered, and Gilligan looked at the “Unicorn” while suppressing the incensed look of his face.

“Yeah. It becomes like that when the horns on its head closes. I don’t know what it means though.”

Keiman however did not look back at Gilligan as the latter uttered these words, and reached his neck out from the railing to look at the “Unicorn”. Keiman’s squadron was assigned to attack the “Nahel Argama” directly, and thus, he did not witness the monstrous fighting strength that “Gundam”. The fear back then became cold sweat that appeared on Gilligan’s forehead, and he clenched his fists that were holding onto the railing.

That “Gundam” was not only superior in terms of capabilities, but also showed disposition. It crushed Gilligan’s belief that he could defeat tens or hundreds of people with only Patriotism, and showed the true disposition of a battlefield. His body was once swallowed up by it, and shriveled back when he only thought of how to escape from its firing range. If it was not for the espionage mission by the “Sleeves” on the “Nahel Argama” ceasing the battle one-sidedly, he would have escaped back to the “Gultoppr” without caring about his pride. That “Gundam” had at least put a dampener upon him, and it was an undeniable fact that the enthusiasm he had right from the beginning was all gone without a trace.

What kind of guy is that pilot? Gilligan looked at the gondola beside the cockpit of the “Unicorn”, and looked at the pilot who seemed to be the size of a bean from where he was, but the rumbling of the partition wall at the aft opening. The large wall caused the entire deck to tremor, and two small mobile suits entered, followed by a uniquely-shaped purple mobile suit with 3 claws on each of its two hands. Gilligan saw the two mini units before; they were most likely tasked with moving the mobile suits from the landing deck. They were accompanying the unit of the escort squad leader, Lieutenant Angelo’s “Rozen Zulu”; someone called it as such through the wireless communicator before.

The two mini mobile suits were chased away from the “Rozen Zulu”, which knelt down as it passed through the partition wall; they moved to a corner of the deck and stopped. These mini mobile suits were less than half the size of the “Rozen Zulu”, and were like little children that were caught in a prank and brought back; however, the technology used on them were definitely of the latest, for they were able to downside the generator and the propulsion system to this extent. “Those are the Manhunter machines.” Keiman muttered at Gilligan’s ears, causing the latter to frown. The Manhunters was the derogative name given to the special forces ECOAS, and this symbol of the Federation government’s caprice became a topic common amongst the “Wind’s Assembly”.

Suddenly, Gilligan felt uneasy. It would take more than a day for the “Sleeves” fleet hiding in Side 6 to reach them. During this time, they had to occupy the “Nahel Argama” with the people they had here. Including the shackled crew brought here by the mobile suits, there were only 16 people on Frontal’s team. Including the workers that snuck in here—the Garencieres team had less than 50 people. Of course, they would also need to assign people for outside security, so the numbers occupying the ship will be less. The invigilation of the inside of this ship would have to consist mainly of the special forces sent over by the “Gultoppr” and the “Dromi”. Even including the 30 Special Forces members sent by the 2 ships, the number of people that could keep watch over this ship would be less than a hundred.

This number would have been enough for the 400 “Mock Wooden Horse” crew members that was probably disarmed, but it would be a different case altogether if there were ECOAS members involved. They went through hellish training, and were deemed as monsters by those who were also soldiers. In comparison, this side had Republic soldiers, of which two-thirds hardly went through actual combat. Can we actually suppress them? Gilligan wondered, and felt doubt in his uneasy heart.

Gilligan himself realized that this was due to the fear caused by his experience with the “Gundam”. The “Gundam” pilot had personally taught him that the difference of life and death on a battlefield was all on personal spirit, but the contents of the clashing wills were different from what he imagined. It was something cruder, more realistic; it was a simple yet powerful emotion, of not wanting to die, but it felt no different from being thrown into a dangerous workplace. There was no sense of justice to delight himself in, no room for any high level tactics to interfere; it was a terror where he could be killed by a truck or a crane, a violent death he would be helpless against. To him, who had no sense of work ethic, and managed to hang on till now because his ideals, it took him all his effort not to be blown away by the blowing winds.

However, it was different from what he imagined. To put it simply, this would be all the explanation, but there was something behind this abnormal feeling, one that could cause the current situation to collapse. “Are we really fine? We’re going to be alone before the main forces of the “Sleeves” arrive…” Keiman continued, and Gilligian looked at the ECOAS mobile suit that got into a landing position. “I heard that the Garencieres team is full of hardened solders. With the power of us Special Forces—” he answered distractedly, but at the same time, the atmosphere on the deck suddenly changed, and a bright color appeared in the corner of his eyes.

The color passed through the air lock on the opposite wall and appeared on the catwalk. The bright green uniform had golden embroidery around it, and she had a wine red cape draped on her. It was impossible to see her appearance from this place, but the presence she gave off was not something an ordinary officer could compare to. The profile matched the image of the young Mineva Lao Zabi he saw in the documentaries, and his body froze. “Oi, that’s…!” “Isn’t that Her Highness Mineva Zabi?” there were similar buzzing occurring everywhere, causing the atmosphere on the deck to be shaken by the commotion.

The profile, ostensibly Mineva herself, ignored all the stares as she stepped on the catwalk. That delicate body was accompanied by Frontal’s escort squad, and her cape fluttered in the air. There was a light lit on the mobile suit deck filled with furor, and Gilligan felt all anxiety in him disappear as he was basically touched when he saw that figure. Mineva passed by her comrades in Republic army’s mantles, and went right at the hangar with the “Unicorn” on it. She saw the Federation soldiers dragged away without being able to do anything as they had guns pointed at them, and this embodiment of Zeonism was right in his vision—

“Sieg Zeon!”

The impulse in his heart surged out from his mouth in the form of words. Cheers immediately erupted, and many chants rang on the deck. Sieg Zeon, Sieg Zeon. The cheers of the Republic’s soldiers immediately filled the mobile suit deck, shaking the “Nahel Argama”. Gilligan believed that this wave would seep through space and reach all over the Earth Celestial sphere, becoming a power that beckons an awakening of a new age.

This is what I hoped for. The anxiety and uneasiness from before were swept apart, and he was driven with a thought that he could die whenever he could. The cheers of Sieg Zeon did not end for a short while, and the men, who found their refuge of pride, let their cheers echo through the air filling the deck.