KSGU:Volume 7 Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s useless there.”

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

Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Just call me Martha.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bring Miss Mineva Zabi over.”