KSGU:Volume 5 Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Part 1

Universal Century 0079, January 10th. On this day, the sky fell. A space colony fell onto Earth through the hands of the Principality of Zeon Army.

This time, the segment in this Operation British was named “Colony Drop” as they planned to compare the fate of the Earth Federation to the hegemonic countries in the old ages. This space colony that fell on Earth was the initial resolution since the declaration of war that occurred on the 3rd day of the same month. After merely 3 seconds since they declared war, the Principalities army, which had already gotten into position beforehand, attacked at the same time and immediately destroyed 3 sides. The Federation army panicked due to this sudden raid, and started gathering their forces quickly; the Principality coolly observed this in their rear sight as it started moving the space colony, its own “bomb”.

The colony that was built on Lagrange Point, located at a gravity balance between Earth and the Moon, and once the orbital speed decreased slightly, it would leave the original gravity equilibrium point. The Principality installed nuclear pulse engines on the Side 2 “Island Iffish”, which they chose as the bomb. After several hours of burst flares, the space colony ended up leaving its original orbit and started freefalling on its own.

The space colony that became a prisoner of gravity took more than 5 days to orbit half a round around the moon and fall onto Earth. Logically, the Federation exerted all its forces to prevent this situation, but they could not defeat the Principality of Zeon army that followed the colony. The Federation did not know of the existence of mobile suits at that time, nor did it know of the tactical usage of Minovsky Particles in combat, and its 3-to-1 superiority in numbers were of no use.

With the one-eyed “Zakus” accompanying, the large mass of the colony approached the atmosphere. It would not be difficult to make a 30km long metal cylinder 6km long break the through atmosphere together with the 3 large mirrors on it. The burning heat of the friction would cause the colony to be so hot that it would become a massive fireball, causing the atmosphere to take a hit it had never experienced before. The peeled outer wall would become a burning meteor shower, and the colony itself followed a black pressurized smokescreen that covered the sky, marking its trail of destruction.

The fortunate thing for the Federation army was that the colony was worn out somewhat due to the skirmishes that occurred for several days. The initial estimates were that the colony would hit the headquarters at Jaburo located in South America, but it split in the air soon after it entered the atmosphere above Africa. The colony broke into 3 blocks, one hit Australia, one hit the Pacific Ocean, and the last one hit North America. In terms of the results, Jaburo managed to avoid a calamity here, and the Federation managed to protect its headquarters that would end up leading the counterattack, but the tragedy of having a colony crash into Earth was not something that could be simply negated.

The colony became a massive bomb, and it was said that the power was around 200 times the power of a nuclear weapon that turned a city in Japan into a sea of fire—the atomic bomb that detonated in the city of Hiroshima. Amongst the 3 broken pieces, the largest piece landed in Australia, and it crashed into Sydney at the speed of 11km per second. The sight of the colony falling down as it covered the sky was taken with cameras from neighboring cities, and the people of the later generations learnt of that ‘sky is falling’ instant of horror. It crashed, causing an impact that caused Sydney to disappear immediately. This impact caused Sydney to disappear immediately, created a crater 10km thick, caused an unprecedentedly large 9.5 magnitude earthquake, and this was just the start. This large earthquake left an observed magnitude of 9.0, rocked the entire continent of Australia, and the magma movement in the orogeny caused the landscape on the eastern coast to change drastically. One-sixteenth of Australia was submerged in the sea, and another one-third of the land took a devastating hit. However, this was just part of the damage caused by the fall of the colony. Besides, right at the moment the colony fell, the Earth’s rotation was affected, and it revolved 0.1, 0.2 seconds faster every hour.

The North American continent did not end up in such a ground-changing situation like the continent of Australia, but one quarter of the land was wrecked. The part that dropped into the Pacific Ocean triggered a large tsunami, and even the shores off the Indian Ocean suffered utter devastation. The colony pieces that fell through the atmosphere caused impacts that resonated with the tsunami, creating a large-scale storm that rocked the entire world for the first time, sending the residents on Earth into chaos. If there were an end of the world, this would be the scene.

The storm and tsunamis covered the lands on Earth for a week, and the abnormal weather did not subside for 6 years after that. The temperature in the colder Southern regions rose up because of this calamity, and not only did it cause sea level to rise, but also, the air pressure changes due to the sea currents caused desertification in humid regions. Disease outbreaks and riots caused by the refugees continued for several years after the war. There was a saying that almost 2 billion people died and were missing, but actually, they could not determine the actual numbers.

A week passed since the start of the war on the 3rd. The One Week Battle got Zeon’s war for independence off to a rumbling start, and despite failing in their intent of bombing Jaburo itself, it allowed the Principalities army to continue the war for one year. After that, the largest fleet battle in human history, the battle of Loum occurred as the Principality launched a large-scale invasion to Earth. They used the Earth military headquarters located in New York City, North America, and gradually expanded its territory.

The smoke rose into the atmosphere, and descended onto the ground in the form of a meteor shower. The ones that landed on the Earth with authority were the giants with one eye, and it was not hard to imagine what sort of impression the residents on Earth had as a result. These demons that had different views and values were invading Earth—and the devastation they brought about was not something the people born on Earth could imagine. In that sense, the people on Earth viewed this army that was attacking their homeland as ‘aliens’.

In terms of national power, the difference between the Principality of Zeon and the Federation was approximately a thousand times, and the options Zeon could choose were limited. The citizen policy was part of the Space Migration plan, the Spacenoids’ plea for Self-governance was crushed by the Federation, and the people who were moved lived tough lives. These were facts, but despite the room for empathy, the fact would remain in history that Zeon was the most brutal killing organization.

After the war, the remnants of Zeon continued to carry out colony drops. 3 years ago, the “Luna 5” that was used as a mining asteroid was dropped onto Lhasa in Tibet, destroying the capital of the Federation as they planned. The tragedy brought about by this atrocity was deeply etched within the people of Earth, and the Spacenoids’ views and stand were all blurred. At this point, as countless debris particles remained in space, the Earth’s sky that was showing the bloody-colored sun setting in the West—

The lush trees covered their heads from above, blocking off the clouds and sky floating above.

The trees that grew down the road had their branches reached out, and the density even caused the green leaves to grow onto the lane. The green corridor that was extended without an end in sight looked so dazzling, and Minerva put her face at the car window, observing the scenery outside. The ones with white and pink flowers were Dogwood, and were the vines growing off the mistletoe Kudzu? Despite the scars of the colony drop in the sky above, this place still had the vegetation exclusive to Southern USA. Due to the warm climate and the creek flowing down the gradual lowlands, the flowers obtained lots of humidity, and looked extremely lively under the sunlight.

It had been one and a half hours since the disease prevention checks were done at the Atlanta Naval Air Station, and Minerva was sitting on this limousine-type electric car. There were still vestiges of war everywhere, the streets of Atlanta still showed scenes of a metropolis, but these were scenes that were seen a long time ago. At this point, what was shown in front of Minerva was a snaking narrow lane within the forest. They passed through the lowlands surrounded by maize fields, and did not see any car moving in the opposite direction. The sparsely scattered farms and houses disappeared. Most likely, this might be the private land space the Marcenas’ owned. Minerva imagined the lush and thick green trees as a wal indicating a boundary, and glanced at Riddhe’s face as he sat right beside him.

Riddhe was looking in front silently, not looking at the greenery passing by outside the window. He was about as silent as the time when he piloted the “Delta Plus” into the atmosphere—no, he might be a lot more tense here. Sitting diagonally in front of him was Ronan, who had his mouth shut, not intending to look away from the notebook terminal. As for what they actually talked about on the limousine, there were only two lines, “Mom?” “She’s in a Nursing Home in Switzerland.” What was left was the heavy and unbearable silence passing between them.

This situation did not allow for anyone to talk easily, and Minerva understood that Riddhe never wanted to face his ‘family’, but this situation she was facing caused her to feel that it would be easier if these two men were unrelated people. What is with this weird depressed silence? Once they entered society, they noticed each other’s flaws more than strangers did, and could only create a divide between each other. Is the relationship between father and son like this? To Minerva, who lost her parents before she was mature enough, this was something she could not understand, and she held her sigh as she looked outside the window. The green corridor faded in thickness, everything from the green pastures that grew on the other side of the oak trees onwards could be seen, and the large Tudor-styled mansion entered everyone’s sights.

The entrance, which was decorated with Corinth-styled ornaments, had a Greek temple-like style, and the main house, which had three-storey buildings connected to it on the side, looked rather similar to the Vist Foundation residence seen on the “Magallanica”. Both houses gave off the feel of age, radiating a sense of existence that was basically similar to Zeon’s vintage style, but one had to wonder what was with this cold air surrounding this house. This house did not look like it would waver as it remained rooted amidst this damp land, and it looked like it was giving silent threats without trying to hide or show off the special authority of those living in it, wanting outsiders to lower their heads. Minerva suddenly felt a chill up her body that was still not used to the 1G gravity, and grabbed her hands that were cupped in front of her chest under her blouse tightly.

There was no concern for Spacenoids, whether it was the house that was stubbornly protecting the old century traditions or the people with special authority living inside. There was no place for understanding each other—

“Do you know the story of “Gone with the Wind”?”

Riddhe suddenly spoke up, and Minerva nodded without thinking through properly. Minerva herself had not read that book, but she knew that it was one of the classic books during the Middle Ages, and was even rewritten as a movie. Riddhe looked outside the window and explained to Minerva, “This stretch is the stage for that story. Warm climate, fertile land, a very rich farm owner; this prosperity was supported by the black slaves captured and brought in from Africa.

Ronan lifted his face slightly from the notebook, and turned his eyes that were looking through the reading glasses over, but Riddhe’s face that was facing the window remained unmoved as he said with a self-mocking self, “What an irony, isn’t it?”

“The ones who started the space migration administration, the Chief Senator for the migration issue committee would actually live in Southern USA that relied on slaves.”

The prosperity and revival in this place was created through the resources squeezed out from the Spacenoids—this sarcastic line even children could understand caused the atmosphere in the limousine to become heavier, and Riddhe did not look at Ronan as he shut up. Ronan let out what seemed like a sigh from his nose, and turned his face back to the notebook. Minerva looked back and forth at these two men, and again felt that she had no refuge as she looked at the Western sky that was starting to become red.

The limousine passed through the gate located between the oak trees and drove right into the courtyard of the residence. At the same time, the sound of the rotor could be heard from above, and the helicopters flying in the air reached Minerva’s sights. There was no reason for them to return back to base, and the helicopters were waiting if there were any Neo Zeon strike teams around with the intent to snatch her back, so the likelihood was that they would be patrolling through the night. There were armed helicopters with gun turrets pointing out, and several guards lurking around—All for the sake of receiving me, an anomaly. Minerva felt a killing intent radiating out from the forest as looked up at the Marcenas’ residence that was right in front of her. The triangular roof at the entrance had a bird-ornament, and it took her a little while to realize that it was an authentic black condor.

Part 2

The quality of servants would determine what the family was made of. In this case, the fact that a servant would arrive at the carpark to invite them in proved that the Marcenas’ stature was for real.

“Welcome back.” Riddhe saw the old butler who greeted him, and answered, “It’s been a while, Dwiyon.”, and he, whose face had been tense ever since he reached Earth, finally relaxed somewhat at this moment. The butler called Dwiyon here merely lowered his head for a short while, and though it was hard to see his expression, even Minerva could sense a surge of emotions swelling from his trembling shoulders. It was common to see many servants who act tough with power backing them up, but there were not many servants who would weep earnestly for the family members they were serving. He was definitely feeling emotional, but he would not try to inquire about his master’s private life on his own, could maintain some form of distance with the family he was serving while doing so obediently, and the magnetism working between them was one only a high-class family would have with a top-notch butler.

After passing through the arched entrance, there was a large empty hall that could be seen, and the sunlight that shone in diagonally from the second level window was reflected off the clean and polished floor. Like its outer appearance, the inside arrangement of the house and the width was not too different from the Vist’s mansion. Minerva’s official residence was basically no different from a palace despite being raised in a fortress full of defeated warriors, and this current situation did not intimidate her, but the aged pillared, walls, furniture and all sorts of things still produced an aura that would discourage anyone.

Unlike the old yet grimy looking Vist Foundation, everything in this place reeked of its own history, giving a suffocating feeling that was resisting change. Riddhe, who grew up in this family, most probably experienced this feeling. Minerva shook off this air that filled the space, and did not land her sights on anything as she merely followed the back profiles of those heading in. She turned to the hall located on the left side, past a table that could seat 10 people in the dining room, and arrived at the corridor leading to the inside of the house. It was an art gallery with paintings decorating the corridor, and with the varying light intensity lighting the paintings, the fine artworks could be mistaken for photos as they were lined up, awaiting visitors.

Minerva stared at the first portrait, and stopped. The person in this portrait seemed to be of mixed blood, and he had brown eyes that were half-passionate, half-rational. It was a man who looked like he was in his sixties. Minerva did see this face several times in history class, but after looking at it closely again, she found that he resembled Riddhe somewhat, “This person is Ricardo Marcenas, the first Prime Minister of the Federation government.” Ronan explained, and Minerva continued to look up at that painting silently.

“The one over there would be the 3rd Prime Minister, Georges Marcenas, my great-grandfather. He would be called Ricardo Junior in movies or books based on historic themes.”

Ronan smiled slightly as he pointed at the paintings lined down the corridor with his eyes, introducing them one by one, “The first Prime Minister, Ricardo Marcenas, was unfortunately assassinated, but the Marcenas family continued to maintain important positions inside the government. The history within the Earth Federation government is also our family history. Our family’s fate is to become the pillars supporting the country…I suppose you can say that.”

There was no sense of conceit or deliberation in these words as his voice merely described the cold hard facts calmly. There was a chill that arose suddenly in this dim corridor, and Minerva trembled as she saw these paintings that could not talk, understanding where the pressure in this house came from.

The ancestors of the Marcenas’ family were lined up on this empty hall, depicting the history of the Federation. These were the people, the group of guardians for the Federation, becoming tense because of her intrusion as a foreigner. They were glaring at the forgotten remnant of the enemy, pressurizing her with a hatred-like surge—

“They managed to survive till now doing that kind of job.”

Riddhe spoke. Minerva recovered and looked at him.

“The culprit that blew up the first Prime Minister’s residence was said to be a separatist against the Federation’s rule, but nobody knew the truth. Some people said that the mastermind behind this were the conservatives in the government, thinking that the liberal and idealistic Prime Minister will get in the way. This is the same reason why a certain American president in the Middle Ages was assassinated.”

Riddhe looked up at the paintings, showing a look of disgust on the side of his face. As a descendant of this family and a son who deserted his family, he seemed to be exerting his presence in this corridor of time. He ignored Ronan, who went silent, and continued with a stiff voice,

“The terrorist attack that caused the explosion of the official residence…that “Laplace Incident” was a good excuse for the Federation to sweep the separatists. At that time, the call was basically, “remember the tragedy of Laplace. Never ever forgive those despicable terrorists”. The pitiful separatists were immediately eliminated, and the Federation government quelled the conflicts on Earth. During that time, what did our Marcenas family do? We relied on the conservatives who killed the first Prime Minister, preventing our entire family from being wiped out. After the deputy Prime Minister became the second Prime Minister temporarily, Ricardo Junior won an overwhelming support from the people and was elected as the third Prime Minister, and thoroughly eliminated the terrorists, the ones who killed his father. These were all beautiful things that were made up, heroes that were made up. After that, the Marcenas family—…”

“JUST SHUT UP!”

The sharp roar echoed through this corridor of time, stopping Riddhe from continuing what he wanted to say. The paintings held their breaths, staring silently at their descendants. Ronan lowered his cold stare on the silent Riddhe.

“So what you’re saying is that the world is run on conspiracies? You read too many nonsensical books. Politics is not that simple, and there are a lot of things you, who abandoned your family, don’t know about.”

Riddhe did not say anything as he turned his back on the other person, and his face was definitely looking like a stubborn child. He’s trying to be like a spoilt child to his father, and got told off as a result; the current situation might seem to be like this. “Miss Minerva” As she continued to ponder aimlessly, Ronan looked at her, and she seemed to panic somewhat as she looked back.

“We will be talking about the details later, but I still have to admire you for the courage you showed. I am willing to bet my personal honor and do all I can to make sure that you are not mistreated.”

The sincere yet sharp stare appeared in Ronan’s eyes, and this stare caused Minerva to feel a fluttering in her chest. “I am very glad to hear you say that.” She responded with a voice appropriate for the occasion and gave a polite smile.

“Let the unfortunate past pass by. I hope for a positive development through our talks, and for this, I will go all out in that.”

Minerva wanted to answer back with a smile at that moment, but Ronan suddenly lowered his face and looked away, “However, there is something I hope that you can understand first.” Minerva felt a chill.

“The Federation government is definitely not a sturdy rock that will not be destroyed. We, the people of the Marcenas family, have been protecting the Federation for generations and dedicating ourselves to it. It’s the same as you, the symbol of Zeon.”

But we couldn’t do it. Ronan’s words had such bitterness, and the emptiness that came as he drew the line caused his heart to turn cold. “Dad…” Riddhe let out a doubtful voice, but Ronan did not look at his face as he merely looked far away at the portraits lined up in the shadows.

“The Federation is still young, less than 150 years old, an immature nation. Someone…someone has to protect it.”

Part 3

During the war, the Zeon forces that occupied the land gave up on occupying the Marcenas’ residence, so one could tell how much historical value this office had. The office table was used since previous generations, of the same age as the custom made bookcase, and they had been around for at least a century. The chandelier that dropped during the colony drop still remained hanging on the ceiling, glowing as they went all out to find similar parts of similar age.

The office and the linked study seemed like a mysterious space filled with the world’s secrets to children—is this room this big? Riddhe looked around the room that was 7m wide, was shocked by the difference in the room from his previous memories, and recalled and yes, he was definitely unfamiliar with the office to such a degree. Making this conclusion, he gave a wry smile.

He entered the office a few times when he was young, and even sat on his father’s lap, hearing stories about the greatness of their ancestors, but at some point, he did not want to approach his place. One of the reasons was that he grew old enough not to sit on other people’s laps, and another was that his father, who inherited the land from Riddhe’s grandfather, started to get busy as a High-ranking Senator as he rushed about. However, the biggest reason was that his father always took action according to his schedule, and excluded Riddhe and the family from his business.

He basically spends an entire year at Dakar’s Senate Council, and whenever he returns home, he has to go all over the place, securing a group of people who will support him, process through petitions, attend parties for consecutive days or go on a trip for leisure. To this Senate Council member who invested in several funds and had to take care of several family enterprises, this family is just a guarantee for the world to judge him by. The reason why dad willing to receive Minerva and me is just… As he thought about that, Riddhe felt his mind start to agitate again, and he shook it lightly to remove these useless thoughts.

Calm down. Riddhe told himself as he suppressed this urge, sitting down on the sofa that was used to invite visitors in. He finally managed to make it all the way here, only to start butting at his father rudely, causing him to have a worse standing. Instead of letting the scandals about the family rise to the surface, his father would first act calmly and determine whether there was any political value—and this was planned right from the beginning. It was because Riddhe knew that he had such a personality that he planned this as insurance. He knew that he had no right to feel frustrated about the mood in this family, and that he did not have the right to criticize his father. At this point, even Riddhe himself had been relying on his family’s tradition of trying to secure political relations to do this.

It was 4.30pm, and Minerva was resting in the guest room. His father, who told him to wait in this office, was probably talking with the army and the Council, and they would most likely come up with countermeasures against this neutral agreement. At this point, he first had to secure Minerva’s safety and talk about the plans the Senate Council plotted to do with the “Laplace Box”. The Senate would most likely be activated as soon as possible, and complete measures would be taken to ensure the “Nahel Argama”s safety. Riddhe continued to reflect upon this as he pondered about how he should respond. At this moment, an abrupt knock on the door caused him to jerk his shoulders.

There was no reason for dad to knock on the door first. By the time Riddhe thought about this, “Please excuse me” Dwiyon had already opened the door. His thoroughly polished leather shoes moved on the carpet silently, and he put the coffee cup onto the reception table. Riddhe smelled the aroma of the coffee from the pot, and he looked up and this old butler who was a fatherly figure to him. “Thank you.” Riddhe said, and Dwiyon lowered his head that had neatly combed white hair, giving a choking voice as he said, “It is really great that you’re alright…”

“Really, you’re sounding like an old man now.”

“I am old now, I am completely old. Don’t you know how much the master was so worried about you this time…”

“Dad?”

“Of course, since the son is a pilot in the army. Even I would worry whenever I hear any uproars on the news.”

Dwiyon took off his glasses and used his handkerchief to quickly wipe the corners of his glasses. “You’re exaggerating it there!” Despite saying that, Riddhe could not feel calm now that someone talked about these past three years he had not talked about, and sipped his coffee to avoid talking more about this. “Really?” Dwiyon’s wrinkled face was reddening somewhat.

“Young master Riddhe, I’ll just say this to you here. The master isn’t in good health.”

“…Heart issues?”

“Yeah. I think it’s because he was reassigned to Dakar or something that he had not rested well for three years…young master Riddhe, I will not live for much longer, so can you please return to the house?”

These were words Riddhe did not expect. He used his hands to adjust the collar on his uniform and deliberately avoided Dwiyon’s slightly hot eyes.

“I know I’ve crossed the line with this kind of request, but this old me will like to request this from you. Please help the master—”

“So the son who went on the run is back?”

A completely different voice suddenly rang inside the room, causing Riddhe and Dwiyon to turn to the door at the same time. That woman with a nice clean cut of blond hair had her hand on the door that was pushed opened, giving a mischievous smile on her face.

“Sis…! You’re here too?”

“Of course. Unlike a certain person, I do treat this place as my home.”

Cynthia Marcenas answered with a tone that was that was hard to determine if there were any signs of cynicism as she walked into the office. She glanced at Dwiyon, who quickly backed away, and sat on the sofa, causing Riddhe, who stood up as well, to sit back. “Come here. Let me see your face.” She said as she used both hands to grab onto Riddhe’s head. This person who appeared in from of Riddhe, had a nice figure, a natural flair to brighten the mood just by showing up, and it was definitely Riddhe’s sister who was older than him by 6 years. “Oh? You seem a little bonier compared to before!” Cynthia said, and Riddhe answered, “You too, sis, you feel like a madam of the leisure class now.” Half of this was Riddhe honest opinion, and half of it was a reminiscent of the past as he looked away from the face in front of him.

Ever since young, Cynthia had been hailed as a talent of beauty and wits, and was recognized to be a flower in the social class, both internally and externally. On the other hand, she was the owner of a strict and advanced work ethic. Ever since she was a student, she started obtaining all sorts of licenses, and though the people around her kept saying that she was not someone who would stay inside the house quietly, this rich daughter defied all expectations after graduation and simply agreed to the arranged marriage her father made for her. To quote her, “I proved that I can do it, so I’m happy.” But naturally, it was not that easy to think that a woman would willingly give up so many options she could choose in her life and plunge into the world of kinship. It was unknown if the world of politics poisoned Cynthia’s mother as she kept spending her life in her own house or the nursing home for wrong reasons, and Cynthia herself felt repulsed that her mother could not fulfill the role of a wife and a mother. Having experienced a youthful period where she was flattered because of her name and her appearance, this big sister’s melancholy and rebellious nature became even more rooted. However, though this was a result of the above mentioned descriptions, Cynthia was a woman who did not change as she kept her free and vibrant nature within.

The reason why Riddhe could leave the house was because his sister and brother-in-law took up a stronger sense of existence as supporting pillars. Cynthia was wearing a ladies’ suit, had make-up on her face and the aroma of perfume on her. She had completely become a woman of the Marcenas’ family, and to Riddhe, who ran away from home, it was unknown of his sister’s existence was dazzling or lonely. Anyway, Riddhe really could not bring himself to face the other person. Cynthia stared at her brother’s anxious face and said sharply, “Dwiyon begged for you to come back, right? Back home.”

“You heard about it?”

“As I thought. Bullseye.”

As Cynthia snickered, Dwiyon gave a terrified look behind her. Does this mean that dad is feeling so weak that Cynthia can randomly guess what Dwiyon said? Riddhe felt a chill entering his chest. “But Riddhe, can you consider?” Cynthia followed up, causing him to clench his hands that were resting on the knees.

“Speaking of succession, isn’t brother-in-law Patrick learning? I heard that he’s going to take part in a local election…”

“Yeah, I’m here to prepare for that too. I have to stand on the same side as hubby. However, even if Patrick was married in, he’s still not a Marcenas.”

Cynthia concluded, and one could imagine her father’s impression overlapping with her existence. “It’s unexpected that you would say that…” Riddhe stood up, and Cynthia shrugged, saying, “Once I got into the world of politics, I ended up like that even if I don’t want to!”

“Dad won’t say that because of his personality, but he really wished for this. If we let Patrick take over the family’s tradition, there will be mixed blood in the terrain the Marcenas’ family protected for more than a hundred years. To be honest, Patrick isn’t the type to be a politician. If you’re willing to come back…”

“I’M NOT MADE FOR IT EITHER!”

The atmosphere inside the house, the shadow of that unpleasant feeling will fall on me. Riddhe let out a loud and clear voice as he brought his face to Cynthia.

“If we can let new blood take over, the atmosphere in the house will change. Don’t you hate this gloomy presence too, sis…?”

Of course, Riddhe did not understand what Cynthia was trying to say. His brother-in-law was the second son of a very influential local entrepreneur, and at this point, he was married into the Marcenas’ family, becoming the first secretary of her father. He had very little relation with the term ‘ambition’, and when talking about competition, this brother-in-law would be akin to taking part in a sports competition; no matter good or bad, he would always be a Mr. Nice Guy. Riddhe knew that his brother-in-law’s harmless nature was suitable for marrying, but he understood that he was not suited to be a successor of a politician family, and that Riddhe himself ran away from home even after knowing this without warning. Such unexpected developments probably caused the stress on his father’s heart to increase, but what could Riddhe do? Even his older sister, who used to be a very carefree person, was infected by this atmosphere, and naturally, she would start to talk about tradition and bloodline. Riddhe could not cope with this gloomy atmosphere at all.

Suddenly, Cynthia showed a grin and patted Riddhe on the head, saying, “You haven’t changed at all~” but while Riddhe could hear the warmth of his relative, he could only feel pain in his heart, and he, who was unable to look at his sister, turned to look at the floor.

“May I ask who that girl is?”

“Eh?”

“I’m talking about the girl you brought back. She’s cute, isn’t she? Who is she?”

This second unexpected occurrence caused his heart to beat hard. Neither Cynthia nor Dwiyon knew of the reason why Riddhe returned home this time, and they did not notice what the many stares surrounding the house and the sounds of the helicopters rotors spinning from afar meant. “Ah, she’s…Audrey Burne!” Riddhe immediately answered.

“She’s the daughter of the largest stakeholder in Anaheim. I met her on the ship viewing ceremony…”

“Burne? I never heard of that name before.”

Cynthia tilted her head that should have memorized the hundreds of investors’ names as she frowned for just a moment, only to give a smile immediately afterwards. “Well, I’ll look forward to investigating what relationship you two have later on. Will you be staying here tonight?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll call in those ladies in for a dinner party. Do attend this party with Miss Audrey too.”

“I don’t have any clothing that can be worn for a party.”

“I will lend Miss Audrey something to wear. As for you, that uniform is okay. It will excite those free madams>”

Cynthia used her finger to poke at the mobile suit emblem on Riddhe’s chest, and turned to Dwiyon, “I’ll leave it to you then, Dwiyon.” who responded with a smile, “Alright, I will tell the cook to work harder than usual today.” and lowered his slightly grimacing face.

“If the lady was around, this family will finally gather at the dining table…”

Such saddening words caused Cynthia to reveal a bitter smile as well. No matter how I try to resist, the many years I used to spend here with my family won’t change, right? Riddhe’s sights first turned to the window where the sunlight shone in, and then listlessly looked over at the family photo hanging on the wall as a decoration. After that, a voice rang amongst the crowd, “It’s a bliss that she’s not here”, causing Riddhe to freeze up.

“If she knows of the commotion here, the illness that could be healed will never heal.”

That man walked through the door that was ajar, not looking at the other people as he went right to the office table. Riddhe felt his relaxed chest tighten at that moment and readjusted himself to face his father. Cynthia glanced back and forth between the two of them, and asked “What does this mean” as she got up from the sofa. Ronan however looked over her shoulder and stared at his own secretary.

“I’ll explain later…Patrick, I’ll leave it to you.”

Patrick, who was standing at the door, heard Ronan call for him as he answered “Yes” with a sullen expression. It seemed that someone explained what was going on to his brother-in-law Patrick, who in turn turned his head over to Riddhe, raised his hand slightly, showed an awkward smile which was the most he could do at this point, and then turned to Cynthia. “Then..” Cynthia seemed to realize the strangely tense tone in her husband’s prompting voice, and she gave a look back while leaving.

The grimness within the room increased. The sound of the telephone, the footsteps of the secretary, the murmurs from Dakar seeped into this house, and the feeling continued to spread in waves that appeared vaguely. It’s because I hate this feeling that I can’t stay in this house. Riddhe realized this again, and accepted that he was the source of this tremor here as he continued to stare at his father silently. “Let us be alone for a while. Leave any urgent matters with Patrick.” Ronan instructed Dwiyon and returned to the table. “I understand, Dwiyon answered and retreated from the room. The sound of the door being closed was left behind, and the two of them were inside the office, surrounded by this suffocating silence.

“I never thought I would face you in such a situation.”

Ronan broke this silence and sighed as he spoke. Riddhe hid his shock that the initiative was taken, and answered, “I had been running away all this time.” He clicked his tongue secretly when he realized that he accidentally butted back at his father. Calm down, he’s a Senate Council member who can deal with the army that will suck up to him. I have to put aside all personal feelings and tell him. Riddhe felt the pressure in his heart as he muttered, and he turned his back at the window to face Ronan.

“Since I entered the army with the family’s objection, I never intended to come back, but just once, I have to do this. You’ve heard of the terrorist attack on “Industrial 7”, right? I was there too. That incident was not like what the news reported –”

“This is not what I want to talk about.”

Ronan forcefully interrupted and stared right at Riddhe. His face showed neither anger nor disdain as he lowered his expression that would depress anyone at this point. “That is not all I want to talk about…” At that moment, Riddhe felt that the floor around him collapsed as his clenched fists were trembling.

“I was shocked when I received your mail. Indeed, you got involved with the “Box”…”

The term “Box” pierced through Riddhe’s heart, and he felt that what he should be saying was dissolved. Ronan leaned back on the leather chair as he looked up, seemingly at the sky, and closed his eyes.

“Even though I tried to arrange for you to withdraw immediately, it ended up like this in the end…I guess this in fact is a curse, and that you are still a Marcenas.”

Riddhe did not understand what his father was talking about, and he was not really certain of who exactly he was talking to. “Dad…” Riddhe muttered with a hoarse voice, and Ronan took a deep breath, straightened his back from the back of the chair, saying,

“Riddhe, you need to know the truth.”

He stared right at Riddhe’s eyes, and said with a voice that did not allow for any words. His expression was covered by the shadows as his back faced the red sunset.

“For generations, this truth is only passed on to a direct son of the Marcenas family. Neither your uncles, aunts, Cynthia nor Patrick knew about this. I thought that I wouldn’t have to tell you this if you took a different path…but since things ended up like this, there is no other way for you to survive.”

Riddhe could not move his body. He wanted to treat these words as a joke, but he, who somewhat expected it, did not allow himself to do so. He realized that this was not just a political stench, and he definitely felt some sort of taboo existing. Right, that’s why I ran away from home. The curse inflicted on the family is brewing gradually, and, inside this family that is giving off an ominous vibe, there’s some sort of—

“Save us.”

Ronan muttered as he clasped his hands together, bringing them to his forehead. He was not saying this to God, and after leading off with these words that were not a sentence, he started to tell the true. That story depicted the confession of a man who lost a god that could have saved him right from the beginning—and the causality of how a family was destined to become god slayers.

Part 4

“I HATE IT!”

As the yell echoed through the room, the sound of the teacup and the saucer clashing with each other echoed throughout the captain’s room. While sitting opposite the stunned and blinking Otto, Commander Daguza said calmly, “I am not making a request to you here.”

“Our ship will reach the space coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program. If you activate the “Unicorn” there, there might be a possibility that a new Program will be unsealed. I will be riding with you, and I hope that you will pilot the “Unicorn” to the designated coordinates. This is an order.”

Daguza said without twitching his eyebrows, and beside him, Lieutenant Conroy too gave a stare that did not allow any arguments. It was several minutes since Banagher was taken away from Takuya and Micott and brought to the captain’s room. Banagher did not even have the luxury to taste the red tea the captain prided himself in before he made this request. They indicated that they had to look for the “Box” on their trip back, and Banagher had to pilot the “Unicorn” to assist with the investigations. Banagher looked over at the face of the captain who was pouring the red tea, and then turned to the ECOAS commander who gave a robotic expression, before arguing, “Why must I do such a thing?”

“Looking at the current situation, you’re the only one who can pilot the “Unicorn”.”

“If it’s just about bringing back something, can’t you just let another mobile suit do the job?”

“The system won’t be able to identify if the main generator is not activated. The pilot has to be in it.”

After sealing off one argument after another, Daguza asked back, “Any other questions?” as he gave a probing stare that seemed to read into the other person’s thoughts. Banagher looked away as he answered, “You saw it too right? What that machine did on “Palau”…”

“Whenever I ride on it, I just feel weird. I don’t believe that I can pilot it well, and I don’t want to ride on it.”

“But you came back safely. You managed to stop that 4-winged from resisting, capturing both the machine and the pilot. That was quite a lot of military gains.” “MILITARY GAINS!? YOU CALL THAT MILITARY GAINS!?” That silver needle of the syringe was glowing when it poked into Marida’s numb skin. Marida felt a pain from that instant as he inadvertently yelled, but Daguza, who was beside him, continued to remain calm as he gave Banagher an unwavering stare, asking properly, “What should I call it?”

“Asking me…anyway, I had enough. I’m not a soldier, so I don’t have a duty to listen to your orders!”

“It’s true that you do not have a duty, but you have a responsibility.”

These unexpected words pierced through Banagher’s heart, causing his body to sway for a while. After Banagher looked up, Otto and Conroy looked like they were blindsided as they stared at Daguza.

“You’ve interfered with battle 3 times already, and you’re the pilot of what they call a powerful weapon, the “Unicorn”. If some are to be saved by it, others will obviously perish. You have already interfered with many people’s fates, so you have to bear this responsibility.”

These were words Banagher had never thought of before. “What must I do…?” Banagher asked, and Daguza gave a straightforward look as he answered, “See things till the end.”

“And when is the end? Are you telling me to fight till death? Or are you going to get me to play this unreasonable treasure hunt?”

“That’s something for you to think about. Right now, you’re just thinking of running away from the trouble in front of you.”

Banagher felt a sharp pain in his chest, perhaps because deep inside him, he too felt that the other person was spot on in some way. This was not something he could admit simply, and he lowered his stare onto the red tea, asking softly without heart, “Mr Daguza…have you never doubted?”

“You’re always calm, not shaken at all…I really can’t be like tyou.”

Banagher did not intend to be sarcastic at the other person. By relying on a knife-sharp moral courage, he had to move even if he was forced to accept the coincidental outcome. Leaving aside whether Banagher wanted to become such a person, he felt that it would be easier for such a person to take action; that Daguza should simply be a pilot, and the “Unicorn Gundam” could display its capabilities to its maximum. I’m not confident in anything, I can’t distinguish between ally and enemy, I have no right to wield a weapon. He did not feel that he wanted to wield a weapon again—even if it meant disappointing Cardeas, his father.

Daguza raised his eyelids slightly as he showed signs of swallowing words. Banagher, who had expected a determined argument at this point, secretly glanced at his face amidst this unnatural silence. Conroy merely looked at his silent commander’s face, and then turned to look at Banagher, saying, “On the battlefield, doubting will lead to death.”

“That’s why we can only think of executing our missions. The leader has to carry out the responsibility he should bear. This would be the responsibility I am referring to.”

“But will people die because of it? What kind of responsibility is it that I have to start killing!? I can’t be like you in that I can simply sort out such things so clearly…”

Mission, duty, responsibility, both Federation and Neo Zeon had them, and both sides could explain it as justice. Banagher had nobody to rely on emotionally, but he felt that he would probably collapse due to fear if he merely remained silent, and such emotions caused him to roar out what he wanted to say. “Do you think it’s that simple!” Conroy yelled out as he was about to get up, his hulking figure nearly knocking into the table. Before Otto could restrain him, Daguza held back Conroy “Everyone has their own way to take responsibility.” and argued back with a calm voice.

“Right now, your situation is easy to understand. The things you should be responsible for are right in front of you. I am talking about those classmates of yours.”

That moment of hesitation had disappeared completely as Daguza continued with a calm voice. Banagher felt blindsided by the discussion of this weakness as he eked out a voice to confirm, “Are you talking about Takuya and Micott…?”

“Even if they return back to “Luna II” their predicaments are rather delicate. How they will be dealt with will determine on our reports and testimonies. The only thing that will sway this will be your actions.”

“You’re going to use hostages again…?”

“You can interpret it however you want. You are in a position to change their fates, so it’s best that you understand this well and choose what to do next.”

Daguza finished what he wanted to say and got up, while Conroy followed him from behind. Their firm muscles could be seen fleshed out beneath their uniforms, and their back profiles turned to leave the Captain’s room. Banagher let out an accumulated sigh and clasped his hands together. “Well, don’t hate them there.” Otto, who reached for the teacup, concluded.

“They can only say that in their positions anyway. Also, Commander Daguza isn’t an emotionless robot like what you think, you know?”

He brought the red tea to his mouth and continued. Banagher lifted his head slightly to look at the other person’s face.

“When we were commanded to attack “Palau” with a single ship…to be honest, all I saw was darkness in front of him. But Commander Daguza did say that he viewed the operation as a hostage rescue.”

He did not understand what the other man was talking about. Otto smiled at the frowning Banagher and said, “You’re the hostage.”

“We owe you a favor…he said this before. If not for Commander Daguza’s inspiration and idea, we wouldn’t know what would have happened. I won’t tell you to thank you, but at least recognize him for what he did, will you? People have responsibilities they have to bear, and Commander Daguza had been facing this seriously all the time.”

Otto seemed to be saying this to himself as well as he put the teacup back onto the saucer. Banagher could not think of anything to answer at that moment as he lowered his head again.

“How can I not doubt? It’s not like I made this detour because I like it, and I don’t feel that the headquarters’ orders are correct. But if I lump these thoughts together, this so-called responsibility will be another thing altogether…”

Part 5

"I got a funny telegram from headquarters. Shall I read it to you?”

Lieutenant Garrett said as he lifted his ace from the monitor, but as he met the people who arrived in the eyes, he immediately hid his smile. Daguza seemed to have revealed his expression on his face, and to hide the awkwardness of having his subordinate read his thoughts, “Please.” he simply muttered and passed through the surveillance room door together with Conroy.

“…Yes. Sender, Space Marine Special Operations Headquarters. Receiver, commander of ECOAS 920 in active service on the “Nahel Argama”. Adding on to message 1430. The chances of the enemy pursuing are very high, ample alertness is recommended. That’s all.”

Conroy inadvertently grinned, and Daguza could not help but curl his lips up as well. “Such a scary and useful advice.” he remarked wryly, and Garrett finally showed a relieved expression.

“To think that they would remind us of something we already knew…what’s their intention?”

“Someone must be trying to prevent us from carrying out our investigations. Some certain people must be thinking of bringing the “Nahel Argama” back and let the key to the “Box” fall under the army’s management. But if we look at the Senate Council’s side, there’s no way they can completely ignore the Vist Foundation’s order.”

“So they sent this meaningless warning and tell us to decide based on the situation?”

“It’s just a failsafe. Also, it’s an indication that they tried to stop us.”

Daguza did feel that it was too much for him to say such things, but Garrett, who shrugged his shoulders, did not seem to mind. Conroy looked at Daguza’s expression and interjected, “A telegram’s a telegram, so tell those guys from 729 as well!”

“As we planned, the operation will begin at 2300. Can both “Lotos” launch?”

“Yeah. We and the pilots from 729 have started to hear out the instructions for this operation. The Nahel Argama squad will launch 2 ReZELs. The machines are equipped with atmospheric-entry equipment just in case.”

“Alright, we don’t have much experience with carrying out operations in low orbit. Go listen to the strategy for this operation too so that the squads can coordinate well, Lieutenant.”

Eh? Daguza was surprised for a moment as he turned to look at Conroy, but Garrett had already answered “roger!” as he got up from his seat. Sorry there. Conroy gave this expression as Garrett slipped by him and walked out of the room that functioned as ECOAS’ command room. Did Conroy detect my mood too? Daguza felt somewhat awkward and yet thankful for the concern of his old friend as he sighed out a long breath he accumulated since the moment he was in the captain’s room. What kind of responsibility is it that I have to start killing!?—he recalled the expression and voice that pierced through his chest as he sat on the chair in front of the console.

“The government and the Foundation are duking it out for the “Box”…something definitely stinks here.”

Conroy pretended not to notice Daguza’s sigh as he poured the coffee and sighed. Daguza himself heard the voice from behind.

“I can understand how Cardeas Vist felt when he wanted to hand the Box to Neo Zeon. Seeing the politicians who only cared about their own well-being and luxury, surrounded by Foundation members who were fighting for their own benefits, he probably thought about giving everything away. The reason why he chose the “Sleeves” was simply because he wanted to obtain the results from elimination. Amongst everything in the world that’s trying to create havoc, only Neo Zeon has the discipline of an army and organizational ability—

“Conroy, do you still remember the operation at “Sweet Water”?”

Daguza interrupted the other person’s words and raised another topic. Conroy’s hand that was pouring coffee into the mug shuddered, and he remained silent for a while before squeezing out a deep voice, “How can I possibly forget?”

“I’ve been having nightmares of that even till now, you know. I kept dreaming of the corpses of the kids floating out of the hole in the colony…even though the colony never had a hole blown in it.”

Conroy went silent and continued moving his hand that froze. He treied to shake off the memories that immediately rose up in his mind, and there was an urge of anxiety, trying to look to the future coming out from his shoulders. Daguza, who saw the back of that normal suit during that operation from the driver seat of the “Loto”, had that image overlapped on the other man in the room at this point, and the sinister fragments of memories budded in his mind.

To counter the number of refugees that were drastically increasing during the war and after, the Federation set up “Sweet Water” in L2 space. It was a refugee colony hastily formed by connecting an open-type space colony and a closed-type space colony, both of different in structure and diameter. This hastily built refugee colony had bad living standards, and it could be said to be a slum in space. It would not take too long for this place to become a base for anti-government forces, and during “Char’s Counterattack”. “Sweet Water” became a working base for Neo Zeon. After the conflict ended, the defeated troops formed guerilla squads, and “Sweet Water” became a breeding ground for terrorist planning, and it was a natural thing for such pus to be tucked away in “Sweet Water”.

The Side Nationalism (Controllism) erupted due to “Char’s Counterattack”, and the Federation naturally hoped that sweeping Neo Zeon would have immediate effects as they tried to seal off the voices calling for Elementalism. These factors caused the Central Intelligence Branch to be unnaturally enthusiastic as they investigated this terrorist activity and sent out ECOAS, which was formed not too long ago as a response. There was an empty building on a land behind a cleaning factory in a certain sector of “Sweet Water”, and the plotters of the terrorist organization were gathered there. ECOAS launched a raid and destroyed them in one shot. Those terrorists ignored human rights and laws, so their crimes that went beyond the law should be punished by means beyond the law—in order to pass this hidden message from the Federation government to the anti-government forces, they chose to use an extremist option of ‘eliminating’ the building together with the terrorists, so Daguza and the ECOAS 920 members rode on the “Loto” and got onto the outer wall of the colony.

They used beam burners to burn apart the outside wall and invaded the underground service roads in the ground block. They installed bombs on the common passage that should be located together with the building, and planned to use the steam that would explode from the water tank to destroy the ground, causing the building to collapse as well. The building in question was a desolate place that was planned to be taken down, located alone behind the newly built cleaning factory, so there was no need to worry about whether anyone would approach there in the day. There were Intelligence Branch agents waiting at the space colony, ready to report everything that happened from their surveillance, ready to carry out any backup just in case. They just needed to wait for the masterminds of this terrorist organization to gather at the scene and let some electricity flow through the detonative device. Everything the “Hunters” set up was perfect, and the target terrorists started to gather at the building one after another, causing the ECOAS members to understand that the information they got was correct—except for one exception. A school bus was parked right in front of the abandoned building, and there were many children visiting the factory alighting in front of the entrance.

Once they checked that the last target entered the building, the events happened after the surveillance team withdrew. If the fact that the parking lot was full that day was a coincidence, the fact that the bus was directed to the targeted building was also a coincidence. If there was a need to press on for whom was responsible, it would be the Intelligence Branch’s fault for failing to report to the army that there would be a factory visit that day, but in the end, Daguza and his men who were hidden underground would have no reason to know these. The explosion caused the targeted facility, the building to collapse immediately, and they were then swallowed under the collapsed land. The target was crushed by several tons of concrete, and the school bus was buried under it as well.

Amongst the 37 children present, 30 of them died at that moment, and another 3 died after they were sent to hospital. The remaining 4 who survived miraculously lost some limbs, and suffered damage that could not be erased in their lifetime. One of them still never regained consciousness at this point even after 3 years, and even though that child was braindead, the parents could not give up on their flesh and bone that was still growing. It was said that they would visit the hospital to take care of their child every single day.

The investigation committee concluded that it was an unfortunate accident caused by a aerolite, and the media created a massive report on the tragedy that befell on the young children. In the end, only the management of the colony communal was to bear responsibility, and there were no reports about the men and women inside the building. But on the other hand, related rumors spread around the special forces of the Federation, and ECOAS was dubbed the “Manhunters” after this incident. The Federation sent a strong message with regards to terrorist activities, and gave them fear and hatred that they had never imagined.

They were a hunting force that specialized in killing; they were an organization that did all sorts of dirty work, from assassination and abduction to killing young children—after that, the members of ECOAS saw many missions that should not be spoken of, and were despised by the other soldiers in the army. None of their members could live their lives peacefully ever since then, “It was a tragedy.” Conroy mused, and Daguza inadvertently looked at his back.

“It was a mistake on the Intelligence Branch’s part. We couldn’t even do anything.”

“Yeah.”

“We were facing a group of people who would throw either colonies or meteors onto Earth. There might be more children killed if we didn’t take them all down in one go.”

“Yeah…we have to allow for a little sacrifice for the sake of many.”

Daguza forcefully clasped his hands together, and felt like he was biting onto sand as he said, “We’re cogs in this large installation called the Federation. Cogs don’t wish for anything. They just follow the decision of what the installation wants and carry out the order, until the day they break down due to a fault…”

Daguza suddenly recalled Nasri’s face, the commander of ECOAS 729 who led the raid on “Palau” and died with his squad. For the sake of that man and the subordinates who died in that battle, Daguza and his men had to quickly secure the “Box”, no matter how much sacrifice they had to make and how much debt they had to bear. Daguza told himself that he never doubted this, and he could not doubt before letting out an exhausted sigh. Conroy handed him a mug of hot coffee and said silently, “When we complete our mission, all guilt and sacrifices will be forgiven…you said so that time, commander.”

“I believe in those words.”

So please allow me to continue believing in these words. Conroy’s expression was saying this. Daguza brought the mug to his chest and he stared at his face being reflected off the pitch-black surface. Suddenly, he felt a bone-chilling uneasiness, and even felt himself trembling.

There was a face of a man there, who fooled his subordinates, himself, and even forgot that he was fooling others. Do I really want to drink this down? Whenever my hand stops, the memories would appear, so I still want to continue drinking, so do I want to continue drinking this to escape from this nightmare that will never disappear until my death?—

“Maybe I’m just trying to run away.”

The urge to slam the mug down was released through his mouth in the form of such words. Conroy’s eyelids cringed somewhat.

“Up till now, we’ve been swallowing reality into our stomachs. If we don’t swallow, we won’t be able to continue on…that guy’s different. He wouldn’t swallow, he continues to struggle.”

He was shaking, but he could still stare right at those eyes that were giving him a doubtful look. Daguza recalled the impression of those eyes in his mind as he said this. At the same time, Conroy seemed to have the mental impression of those same eyes as he softly uttered, “He’s still a kid.”

“He sealed himself in a shell because he doesn’t want to be hurt. That won’t save anyone.”

“That might be the case, but to me, I feel that he’s the one who’s facing reality.”

Daguza sensed that Conroy gasped as he looked back silent. He continued to look at the swaying surface of coffee.

“Justice will change according to the times. An existence like us is required to maintain order. Once we swallowed such a reality, we became reality. However…”

Let me ask honestly, what is this order we have to protect even if it means killing children? Nobody can clear or repay the guilt of ending lives that never began the anger the parents felt when they came to cut the nails of their children who will never wake up, because humans were not gods. Everything they did would never be rewarded, and no one will receive salvation. Despite understanding that, I still continue to kill myself off, telling myself consistently that it can’t be helped. Won’t I become a real cog gradually?

I swallowed reality and sold out myself bit by bit. In this sense, I’m a foolish creature who’s sealed in this shell called an adult. Daguza sighed as he looked at his heavy heart, lost in this depressive and silent time. Conroy closed his eyes and uttered, “I can’t say this can’t be helped” as he gradually tried to stir up something amidst this silence.

“There will always be room for the world to change, and there would be geniuses who would rejected reality and want to change the world. But there is a need for people to bear the time called present and carry on so that these geniuses can think for the future. The ones who have to bear this will be us, uninteresting adults who unfortunately became one with reality.”

Conroy smiled, perhaps laughing at himself for saying something that was not his style. If there were people who would bear this reality and support the world, there would be people who would resist reality and put their hopes on the future they could not see. Simply put, it’s a question of balance, is it? Daguza understood at this point and felt somewhat relieved as he finally lifted his head with intent. “Sorry, I understand.” He smiled as he answered, and Conroy shrugged while pretending not to hear anything.

I’ve already done a lot of things most commanders shouldn’t be doing. If I continue this, nobody else will be saying such depressing things, but me. Daguza did not hope to be laughed at by Nasri as he looked away from Conroy and put his fist on his first to invigorate himself. “Also, there’s a problem with what I said.” this sudden voice shocked him.

“What I believe is not what you said, commander, but you yourself. Please take action according to your own thoughts. We’ll follow you from behind.”

Conroy put the mug of coffee he had not drank beside the pot and merely met Daguza in the eyes before walking out from the room. Daguza could not think of what to say as he looked down at the mug he was holding, and faced his reflection off the swaying fluid.

The ripples gradually eased up, and before the image was formed clearly, he immediately gulped the salted coffee that tasted saltier than usual.

Part 6

“A Foundation ship?”

The “Garencieres” bridge seemed more cramped than usual as the large hulking figure of Gael imposed itself, frowning slightly. Zimmerman grabbed onto the backrest of the Captain’s seat, let himself turn to the other person while floating in the air, and answered, “Yeah.”

“It appeared on the low orbit 20 minutes ago. It’s not accelerating, but just exploring around. That “Klimt” is a ship you people used to move art pieces, right?”

Both Flaste and Gilboa were seated on the steering seat and the navigation seat, and in front of them, the “Kilmt” light marker was shown on the radar window. It was moving at a relatively slow speed of 8km per second, and was already about to move a quarter around the Earth. There would be ships moving to and fro every 30 minutes, but not many ships would remain in low orbit like that. The only ones who would do that would be the maintenance repair ships. Zimmerman did not look away from the silent Gael as he operated the console, and showed the other radar images onto the screen.

“Normally, I won’t really care about such things, but this is a different situation itself. If they have a plan to meet someone, this would be that someone.”

The navigation management satellite’s radar images, which any ship could receive, shrank on the screen, and the image that was enlarged was the enemy search image the “Garencieres” radar caught sight of. The marker of the “Nahel Argama” appeared, and Gael’s expression changed. “Hold on”, Zimmerman called out the hulking figure that turned slightly and let the magnetic tape on his soles stick onto the floor.

“Where do you intend to go?”

“I said that I’m acting on my own. It doesn’t matter to me what the Vist Foundation wants to do.”

“In that case, what’s causing you to panic?”

“I’m not panicking—”

At the moment he said those words, Gael suddenly went quiet. Zimmerman tapped the automatic pistol at Gael’s back and instructed him silently to raise his hands, emphasizing, “Sorry, we’re not pursuing the “Nahel Argama” for fun either.”

“Tell me what you know. It’ll be the end if you refuse.”

Zimmerman had no intent of threatening him in the first place. This man never left the cabin he was assigned to for the past 10 hours or so when he was kept on the ship, and he never intended to say anything, so I guess it’s about time to force him to tell the truth. It’ll take us less than 2 hours to catch up to the “Mock Wooden Horse”—the “Nahel Argama” as it drifts past the geostationary orbit, and this “Garencieres” will enter low orbit. During this time, this man who used to be a confidante of the Vist Foundation is conspiring with a Foundation ship in front of us. If we can’t prove that both parties did not contact each other, we can’t let Gael remain on this ship.

Gael raised both hands and slowly turned to Zimmerman, and he seemed to realize that Flaste, who was sitting on the steering seat, was reaching his hand into his clothes. He exhaled to relieve the killing intent on his lower body, and opened his tightly sealed lips, saying, “that Foundation ship is most likely controlled by Martha Carbine.”

“Martha Carbine…you mean that woman who married from the Vist Foundation to the Anaheim Electronics’ chairman’s family?”

“That’s right, she’s Cardeas Vist’s own little sister, and right now, she’s the substitute leader of the Foundation. She’s the first person I should look for revenge.”

Gael’s straightforward voice pierced through Zimmerman’s chest, and made it difficult for him to breath. So this is what the family scuffle for the “Laplace Box” was about—to prevent the “Box” from being released, the younger sister killed her older brother.”

“…Is that Martha you’re looking for on that ship?”

“No, Martha herself is on the moon. The one on the “Nahel Argama” is the subordinate she raised. The “Klint” was probably chartered to take in those guys.”

Gael’s infuriated expression of killing intent dispelled all doubts in Zimmerman that it was a conceived lie. He kept his automatic pistol and confirmed, “So, that means that “Gundam” is on board as well?” The “Klimt” was a small ship, but it was still large enough to contain a mobile suit. “Not likely.” Gael quickly answered.

“The “Unicorn” is managed under the army. I don’t think even Martha can simply get a military resource so easily.”

“Even if it’s the woman who incited the army to break our deal with Cardeas we’re talking about here?”

“If we consider the objective of preventing the “Box” from being released, the Foundation and Federation government do have a common goal. However, the situation is different now. The existence of the “Box” is in doubt, and there are differences between both sides’ thoughts. The Foundation hopes to maintain thing as they are, while the government wants to cash in on the benefits.”

These words are easy to understand. The Federation felt that they could get rid of the “Box” that’s threatening the government through this chance, but the Vist Foundation didn’t want to let go of this benefit they had for 100 years. The ones who can get the “Box” first can decide who would get the benefits in the next generation, and in this sense, the “Box” is really a piece of authentic treasure. As Cardeas said, it has the power to change the future. Both sides are chasing after that thing with bloody eyes, one for the sake of political power, and the other for the sake of economic power to manipulate the Federation army, so the “Nahel Argama” could only move back and forth according to the struggle of power between these two. Our Neo Zeon forces is just playing a sideshow to top it off here. “I see.” Zimmerman stroked the beard on his chin.

“Now I understand why that brat launched on his own during that battle in the shoal space region. If they can destroy the “Gundam” that functions as a key, they’ll be able to protect the secrets of the “Box”. Martha herself planned it.”

“That’s right. However, that was only a secondary plan. If the “Unicorn” is destroyed, Martha will not be able to know where the “Box” is.”

“What’s going on? Flaste asked. Gael looked at him “The only ones who know where the “Box” is are the leader Syam Vist and every leader of the foundation.”and answered his doubt while reciting like a poem.

“If Martha wants to give a clear signal as to who the real leader is, she must get the “Box”.”

As everyone on the bridge went silent, “Of course, I don’t know where the “Box” is.” Gael quipped. Let’s just believe him. If he knows where the “Box” is, he would be able to threaten Martha more directly. Zimmerman more or less understood what was going on as he looked up at Gael’s face again.

“So it’s Martha’s instructions for the “Mock Wooden Horse” to move towards the space coordinates?”

“Most likely. She probably intends to obtain information on the “Box” before the “Unicorn” is moved to “Luna II”. Now you understand why I’m panicking?“

Gael’s expression that was looking back was giving off an anxious look. Zimmerman blinked his eyes as he saw this.

“That ship was deployed here to move Martha’s subordinates and the investigation reports here back. If we just wait for the investigations to end leisurely, my chance to take revenge will slip off.”

After saying that, Gael turned again. Before he was about to step off the floor, Zimmerman grabbed him by the shoulder, “What do you plan to do alone?” and called him.

“I’m going to get Martha’s subordinate and force him to reveal everything she did to the world.” Gael shook off the hand grabbing his shoulder and gave Zimmerman a sharp glare. “No matter whether this will be shot down immediately, this impact will be enough to shoot down Martha from the position of the substitute Foundation leader. I want to end things here as I can’t protect my master.”

“How are you going to capture her subordinate? Are you going to use the “Eye-Zack” to fight the “Mock Wooden Horse”? It is damaged somewhat, but it is still a battleship in service.”

“I have a plan.”

Gael said without an expression on his face as he turned away from Zimmerman. “I told you to wait.” Zimmerman emphasized as he let his body float to Gael, and then blocked the door.

“In that case, I’ll tell you our situation. There’s someone else we have to bring back from the “Mock Wooden Horse”.”

“Minerva Zabi? If you want her, she’s moved away already—”

“No, the one we want back is my subordinate. I want to save that person before our reinforcements meet up.”

Zimmerman had already heard the news from the “Rewloola”s telegram that Minerva was brought to Earth. The ship also knew at that moment that Full Frontal, who was onboard the “Rewloola”, was approaching. It was obvious what he was planning when he initiated a raid after hearing that Minerva was not on the “Mock Wooden Horse” broke out. Those eyes under the mask could not see the captive Marida. Zimmerman had to save her before the “Mock Wooden Horse” was sunk.

“…I’m listening.”

Gael answered after several seconds of looking into the thoughts of the other person’s expressions. For a moment, Zimmerman sensed that they were on the same page, and started to focus on the issue at hand as he stared right at Gael’s still eyes, saying, “Before that, I’ll like to confirm something.”

“You said that there is a power amongst the Federation that will try to use this chance to steal the “Box”. Who are they?”

Gael gave a look of surprise, and frowned, “They’re a group of people fighting with the Foundation and intend to keep the army for their own use. If we use the logic that the enemy of our enemy is our friend, we might be able to make use of them.” Zimmerman stared intently as he said, but the other person smirked. “It’s impossible.” This voice rang within Zimmerman’s eardrums.

“Those people have a low opinion of you. Besides, they’re the ones who initiated the UC plan.”

Gilboa turned his frightened face around as he interrupted, “The UC plan, you say? As in those guys who built the “Unicorn Gundam”…?” Zimmerman recalled that mobile suit that was built to destroy Zeon, the demonic face of that Newtype-destroying machine, and calmly asked, “So they’re?” Gael looked at Earth that was shown on the window, and said,

“The Migration Issues Committee, the largest conservative force that determined the Federation Space Migration Plan all this while.”

Part 7

“…You’re right. I heard that every elected Prime Minister had taken up the post of the Migration Issues Committee Leader before. Doesn’t that you…you know?”

Mrs Barrows raised the duck confit on the fork as she gave a pondering look while looking over at everyone’s faces that were seated on the table. She was showing off such indecent table etiquette as if she was at a restaurant in town, but the other ladies did not frown so easily. Their faces that were full of make-up showed appropriate cordial smiles as they looked around on the long table, giving either envious or evaluating looks at the couple that organized this party.

“Not all the Prime Ministers were like that.”

Cynthia Marcenas was probably used to such stares as she showed neither an inviting smile nor an annoyed smile, calmly dodging this topic at hand with some words she thought about on the fly. The daughter of the Marcenas family showed a graceful and fearless princess appearance as she kept an observing look, noting where she was in. She, who was almost 30, had the flair of a female host who had experienced all sorts of turbulent moments. “My my, you’re so modest about it.” Cynthia gave a smile that had some invisible hesitance towards this flattery as she quickly glanced through the table, not forgetting to check if everyone’s wine glasses were filled.

“No no no, please just leave it at that! If not, I’ll probably be so pressurized as a son-in-law that I won’t have room to breathe!”

Patrick, who was sitting beside Cynthia, spoke with a voice that boomed throughout the room, putting a stop to this delicate topic. Patrick had a sportsman-like tall and muscular physique, an earnest smile, and had sincere gestures that were welcomed by the old people. These were unique inherent qualities that made him attractive, but the impression had on him was that he studied well. Before he married in, Patrick was working as an underling of Ronan, and until this point, where he was running for a local election, he took the important role of first secretary, and he was trained this way for the future. But on closer inspection, there would be signs of aspects he was not natural in, so it would depend on his qualifications if he could stand out here and make his way to the Dakar Committee proudly. At this point, his first duty would be to act as a cheery host for this party and wrangle for local support. However, he probably did not expect the atmosphere brewed by the powerful local ladies to be so hard to deal with.

After the war, B&D Inc. managed to revive itself, and Mrs Barrows was the wife of the chairman of that enterprise. She was also the president of the women’s support group, and because of her lead, one could see people like the wife of the chairman of the sunbelt area revival association, the wife of a protestant pastor from South America that still had many believers in the South, and the wife of a leading Farmers’ association president. There were less than 10 middle-aged women seated around the long table in the dining room, and they pretended to look courteous and fearful that they were invited to the mansion of a powerful Senator, but there was no doubt that these people thought that they should be invited here. These people approached the high-ranking senator who would most likely be the next Prime Minister, and eyed for a chance to offer their graces while showing their powerful backings without leaving anything behind. They would always show that they could determine the fate of a political whenever they had the time. Their husbands had such shameless thoughts, thinking that they should leave everything in society to the politicians, and if there were a need, they should create politicians with their own hands, and in front of Minerva’s eyes, the ladies were a splitting reflection of their arrogance.

Minerva’s stomach felt heavy as she swallowed her sigh, and it was a difficult thing for her to put the duck into the mouth. So is this the truth behind politics of absolute democracy? That how power with the people is determined by buying and selling of votes? She memorized everything about ruling, but this was too intense for her body that never had the chance to interact with the real society. She cautiously read the atmosphere as she again realized that she was in a delicate situation.

As Riddhe had been talking to Ronan all this while, Minerva did not have the chance to plan any lines, and she was overwhelmed by Cynthia’s bulldozer-like hospitality, so she could only attend this party as Audrey Burne. It was the complete opposite of what Cynthia said about a relaxed family party as the food that was served was a French full course, the red wine were top-class Eighties bottles that were opened, and there were 6 servants on standby around the dining table. It was obvious to see that as the host, they were planning to use their wealth show their true prosperity to the ladies of the rich and powerful, and it was obvious to see that. Even the gown Minerva was wearing was a customized branded product Cynthia ordered during her life as a student. Cynthia herself said “It’s already outdated, but it’s fine if the person wearing it is good looking”, but Minerva could only think about standard dress uniform when it came to formal dress attire, so she could not tell the differences in that. She found it difficult to adapt to the bare shoulders and arms design, and in the end, she did not know how to adapt as she could only spend time listening to the empty conversations.

“As for the young lord, he’s an elite who graduated from the officer cadet academy. I’m really envious of it.”

Mrs Barrows did not thank the servant who poured red wine for her as she increased her volume, seemingly drank. She, whose fat arms would shudder whenever she raised the knife, seemed more concerned about the private life of a Senate Council member than the future of a local election candidate’s future in front of her. When Ronan popped by to greet them before retreating, she was the one who wanted him to stay, “Another one of my relatives was an officer.” Another lady continued.

“But he’s retired, and he’s now a consultant at Anaheim Group.”

“Oh my. So that means he’s an elite as well?”

“Will you enter politics in the future and help in your father’s work?”

The Cynthia couple’s expression froze, and Dwiyon, who was on standby behind, showed a tense expression on his face as well. As the ladies focused at one point, Minerva could only force herself to look over at the seat beside her, at the face of the person in question.

Ever since the self-introduction from before, Riddhe did not say anything, and even at this point, he looked like he did not care about his surroundings. He looked very distracted as he moved his knife and fork, stuffing the unsliced duck into his mouth. He had been looking like this ever since he talked to Ronan. Did they break off on rather bad terms? As Minerva wondered, Cynthia spoke up, “My little brother here is bad at it.” and Minerva turned to look at her.

“His mind isn’t sharp except when it comes to piloting mobile suits, right, Miss Audrey?”

Help me carry on, please? Her eyes were telling Minerva this. Minerva could not say anything immediately as she merely gave an awkward smile. “Speaking of which, how you heard of it? There was a terrorist attack again!” Another person’s voice caused her heart to jump.

“Yeah yeah yeah. It happened on Anaheim’s industrial colony, right? It’s said that the Neo Zeon remnants did it.”

“Space really is scary. Will all the people die once there’s a hole pierced through the colony? They’re like fish in a tank. I’m trembling whenever I think about it.”

“And those Zeon mobile suits, are they called “Zakus”? They did come here during the war. Those mobile suits have only one eye, their shoulders have some spike like thing. They really don’t look like things humans will create.”

“They’re people who threw people colonies and meteors onto Earth. They’re different in both common sense and thoughts from us after all.”

“Most of them are people whose parents and brothers were born in space, and they never came down to Earth, I suppose? It’s a little too direct to say that, but they’re still aliens after all. To the Spacenoids, Earth is basically a resource colony. If we granted their self-governance, who knows what will happen? That’s why we have to manage it well.”

Lines after lines continued to jab at Minerva’s bare shoulders like sharp needles, seemingly trying to pierce. Ding, “Excuse me, madams.” Cynthia tapped the glass as her words attracted everyone’s attention.

“Please avoid discriminatory remarks. My husband will be worried if this would be a trap set up by the media.”

Patrick followed up on this joke with some grumbling. Well, hohoho, the ladies let out laughter. Minerva exhaled slightly, and was about to gulp down the glass full of water, but another voice, “Miss Audrey, may I know where you’re from?” causing her to choke on it.

“If you’re related to the Anaheim Group, I suppose you’re from the Moon?”

“The Moon is a nice place. Unlike Spacenoids, moon residents are full of common sense. They have low gravity, and it’s nice for beauty. I’m thinking of going there myself once, but I really can’t decide after hearing that it’ll take more than 3 days to get there on a spaceship…”

Minerva could not and had no reason to go along with what they said as she looked away from the women of Earth lined up in front of her. Just smile and act along and everything will be fine— she understood, but she could not give this kind of smile to them. This would be belittling her parents, and it would be blasphemy to the soldiers who died. All sorts of words raged in her mind, and as she clenched the fists on her knees, the sound of a chair being moved back rang.

Riddhe stood up as he did not look at anyone, but straight forward as he left the scene wordlessly. The footsteps of the boots were filled with anger, shocking the cold atmosphere. The grey officer uniform disappeared behind the door, and the ones left in the dining room were the stunned stupefied looks of the women.

“Did we say something to dampen his mood?”

Mrs Barrows asked, and in response to her puzzled and curious face, Cynthia immediately rounded off, “Sorry.”

“It seemed that he saw something devastating during the terrorist attack from before. He’s been like this ever since he got home. Please don’t mind.”

Cynthia said as she gave a quiet look to Minerva, asking her what was going on. Patrick too inadvertently met Minerva in the eyes, and Minerva scanned the expressions all the ladies gave. She lost the chance to chase Riddhe and could only move the fork to stuff the duck into her mouth that had already lost appetite. As she wanted to stuff it in, “Speaking of which, isn’t the son of Mr. Barrows…” Cynthia’s voice filled up this emptiness.

Part 8

The atmosphere at the seats cooled off, and it took about 10 minutes before Minerva could leave her seat naturally. She left the party with a stomach full of undigested food, and walked around the mansion, trying to look for Riddhe.

It was unknown if most of the servants went to help out with the party as the mansion was completely quiet. Ronan should be working inside the house, but there was no way to detect his presence in this large mansion. Minerva went from the hall to the stairs, passed through the empty wide corridor, and went forward. She saw Riddhe’s back as he stood on the terrace facing the courtyard.

At this moment, the wall clock let out a sound, and it was 18.30. If the time was taken at Greenwich Meridian standard, it would be 23.30 in space. She looked up at the digital clock that showed both timings, and again understood that she was in a place that was very distant. She passed through the door that was opened and stepped onto the terrace. The wind blowing by the courtyard caused the curtains to flutter, flipping some pages of a book that was being read.

Riddhe continued to stare at the trails of the setting red Western sky as his back did not move. The sounds of the helicopters flying from afar were mixed in amongst the winds, causing the trees surrounding the courtyard to buzz unsteadily.

Minerva looked up at the sky that was turning from orange to blue and to a deep indigo color, and smelled the flavor of the evening wind that had the presence of night hidden in it. “I’m sorry” the voice entered her ears, and she looked forward, staring right at Riddhe’s back as he still looked forward. She lowered her face and said, “There’s no need for you to apologize…”

“I feel that this is reality too. If I continue to remain in Neo Zeon, I wouldn’t know all of these things.”

This might be a good chance to learn. Minerva muttered in her depressed heart, but she could not find any words to overcome these words that were full of such prejudice. She thought that mutual understanding was just a dream, and she remained unable to breathe in this helplessness of hers. “That’s not it.” Riddhe said as his shoulders trembled, and he clenched his hands that were on the handrails tightly.

“That’s not what I want to talk about…”

The sunset showed the figure of the shoulders, and the shoulders were trembled, probably because he was crying. That was not an emotion that could be caused by a breakdown in talks between him and Ronan, and Minerva sensed that there was a greater despair and sense of loss here, “Riddhe…” she called him, and approached his trembling figure.

Suddenly, that back profile left the handrails, and Riddhe turned to Minerva, his chest filling her sights. Minerva was hugged around the shoulders as she was pulled to him, and he embraced her in his clutches.

“I’m sorry, I…I actually brought you to such a unthinkable place…!”

Riddhe’s arms that were hugging Minerva exerted more force as he uttered out such unperceivable words, sounding like he was trying to squeeze out all the fluids in his body. Minerva wanted to push her aside, but notice that she had no place to exert strength, and was shocked as she felt Riddhe’s body warmth.

“No matter what, I’ll protect you well no matter what, so please stay here, stay by me…don’t leave me alone…”

Water droplets that had warmth dripped on her hair, wetting her forehead. Why is he crying? What’s causing him so much pain? At that moment, Minerva had no sense of uneasiness or disgust as she felt Riddhe’s trembling body with her own. She hesitated over whether she should put her arms around him, and she looked at the sky that was entering the night from past the shoulders wearing the military uniform.

Minerva saw the stars flicker on the other end of the thick atmosphere. That star looked much more gentler than what she saw in space, but it was so blurry and hard to grasp sight of.