In a corridor of the Nahel Argama, two figures leaned against a handrail.
The screens behind them projected the external sunlight and waves, acting like panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows displaying the ship's surroundings.
Roz and Char absentmindedly shoveled food from their trays into their mouths.
Compared to Char's appetizing plate smothered in curry, Roz—having been in such a hurry to drag this embarrassing man out of the mess hall—had missed out on Mayu's specialty. His tray looked bland and flavorless, as if he were on a strict weight-loss diet.
Fortunately, thanks to the skill of the kitchen staff, the food wasn't actually bad; it was just a bit dry since he'd left in such a rush that he forgot to grab water.
"Char, you bastard... you were treating her as a substitute for Lalah, weren't you?"
Roz only had to recall Char's behavior in the mess hall and sense his current emotional state to guess exactly what was going through his head.
"A substitute..."
Char froze for a moment upon hearing Roz's words before finally swallowing the food in his mouth. "I see. That's a fitting term. Is the reason I instinctively gravitated toward her because I'm searching for someone to replace Lalah?"
Despite the delicious food in front of him, Char felt as if his soul had been peeled open. In an instant, his appetite vanished.
Reviewing his actions just now, it seemed to be true. He felt as though a piece of his soul had gone missing with Lalah's death, and his instincts were sub-consciously urging him to find something—anything—to fill that void.
The projected sunlight was brilliant, but Char suddenly felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"Char, you really are a selfish guy," Roz remarked, glancing at the now-stagnant Char before stuffing a spoonful of greens into his mouth.
The crisp vegetables crunched between Roz's teeth, the sound ticking away like a clock.
Only after Roz swallowed did Char seem to snap back to reality, turning his head to look at the projected scenery behind them.
"I have no intention of defending my selfishness."
Char sighed, turning his face slightly toward the ocean view. Half of his face was bathed in the projected light, while the other remained in deep shadow, making his expression impossible to read.
"But Roz, you aren't Amuro... You might not understand what it feels like when your soulmate dies—that sensation of having half your spirit ripped away."
"...No, I've felt it."
Roz looked toward Char, but due to the angle, he could only see the back of the man's head. He had no idea what kind of face Char was making.
"The one who guided me onto this path... he spoke some cool parting words and just died right in front of me."
"Then... how did you endure it?"
After Char asked the question, a brief silence fell over the corridor.
In the wake of Char's inquiry, Roz couldn't help but let his own past drift back to him.
Yes, back in the Blue Cosmos research institute, when Ryan died, he had been utterly at a loss. What was it that had supported him, kept him fighting, and brought him step by step to where he stood now?
"…Responsibility," Roz said, coming back to the present. "He entrusted those people to me. Whether they wished for it or not, I shouldered that burden nonetheless—fighting for them, and fighting to change that world."
"I don't know what the future will look like, but if we don't fight now, then there is no future to speak of."
Only after saying this did Roz truly notice the scenery in the projection.
As the Nahel Argama cut through the ocean, a pod of dolphins had begun to accompany the ship, leaping through the waves in tandem with their progress.
Even as the Earth's environment steadily degraded, life continued to persevere and propagate here.
"…How arrogant of you, Roz."
Listening to Roz's words, Char also turned back, looking down at the tray in his hands.
"Just like what you said to me—I have no intention of defending that arrogance," Roz replied. He used his spoon to gather the last bits of food on his tray into a single pile. "Besides, for an arrogant guy like me, it's the only 'optimal solution' I could come up with."
"No human is perfect. Oldtypes, Newtypes... as individuals, the human race will always manifest various flaws." Roz scooped up the last of his meal and stuffed it into his mouth. "But it's precisely because of that imperfection that all sorts of possibilities can be born from within it."
Char fell into silence once more at Roz's words.
"I'm starting to regret it a little..." Char chuckled, his spoon aimlessly stirring the curry on his tray. "Perhaps back at the New York venue, you should have been the one standing in my place to give that speech."
"And then who would have been there to bail you out and clean up the mess?" Roz scoffed, swallowing his final bite.
"Also, no wasting food on this ship." Roz tossed his spoon onto the tray and pushed himself off the railing. "And you, you embarrassing disaster—pull yourself together!"
"Heh... but as you said, as an imperfect human being, that just happens to be one of my flaws."
Char let a slight smirk curl the corners of his mouth.
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While the Nahel Argama continued its voyage, action was brewing in the lunar sector.
Kamille Bidan, having finished his preparations and donned his pilot suit, stood on the bridge of the Ra Caim.
"The upcoming operation is dangerous. The Zeta has practically become one of Anaheim's flagship icons. The plan to seize it might not go smoothly," Klinton remarked, nodding to Kamille as he entered the bridge.
"No propellant, no ammunition... but the beam sabers should still be functional," Kamille said, adjusting his collar as he gazed toward Von Braun, the stronghold of Anaheim Electronics. "I once heard the Anaheim staff bragging about it."
"The Jegan units' mission is critical. They must arrive at the Zeta's location the exact moment I complete the seizure to escort it back." At this point, Kamille let out a short laugh. "It's almost exactly like when we stole the Gundam Mk-II."
"Except compared to the Mk-II, the Zeta has even fewer armaments ready," Klinton replied with a smile. As one of Bright's subordinates, even if he wasn't a veteran of that era, he had made it a point to study Kamille's legendary heist of the Mk-II. "And we'll likely be facing the lunar garrison. The pressure is higher—it's like facing an upgraded version of the Titans."
Kamille's smile faded slightly at Klinton's words, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure about this?"
"We've already decided to follow Captain Bright into rebellion. Fighting the Federation was always an inevitability." Seeing Kamille's concern, Klinton waved it off. "Everyone has made their peace with it. If there are no other issues, let's depart according to the schedule."
"Alright. I'm heading down to prepare for launch."
As Kamille disappeared from the bridge, Klinton took a deep breath to steady his nerves.
Though he spoke lightly, he felt the crushing weight of wanting to preserve as much of Bright's fighting strength as possible. The tension was beginning to gnaw at him.
The Ra Caim, and indeed the entire 13th Independent Fleet, was following Bright Noa down a perilous path covered in thorns.
Unlike before, they weren't just fighting a splinter group like the Titans; they were taking on the entire Federation.
Even if the Federation was cracking under the weight of recent upheavals, it remained a gargantuan and terrifying enemy.
Klinton opened his eyes again, his expression returning to a calm mask of command.
"The Ra Caim, setting sail. Target: Von Braun."
Klinton gestured toward the lunar city from the captain's chair. "MS teams, get ready. Proceed exactly as planned."
The Ra Caim began its turn, accelerating rapidly toward Von Braun.
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Meanwhile, at the temporary base of the Circe Unit in North America.
While the Nahel Argama and the Ra Cailum moved with lightning speed, Kenneth had only just returned to his temporary West Coast headquarters. He was preparing to lead the Circe Unit back to his own Pacific theater.
According to intelligence, both the Ra Cailum and Amuro's battleship had entered the Pacific.
He needed to get back as quickly as possible to provide them with cover. Moreover, he needed to formally apply to rejoin the main fleet...
Lost in these thoughts, Kenneth arrived at the base command center. However, the moment he stepped inside, he was confronted by several "uninvited guests."
He saw a group of unfamiliar, burly men in Federation uniforms. Their unit insignia wasn't the Circe Mark, but a Vulture.
They were currently standing in the command center, barking orders at Kenneth's own soldiers.
"Who are you people...?"
Kenneth's eyes widened slightly at the sight.
"We are the Vulture Independent Unit, under the direct command of Federation General Staff," a man in sunglasses said, looking calmly at Kenneth as he entered. "I am Colonel Solon. Colonel Kenneth, your Circe Unit has been temporarily requisitioned by us."
"Requisitioned? You're taking command of the Circe Unit?"
Kenneth's brow furrowed. "Where is the transfer order? Let me verify it."
"There is no transfer order," Solon replied, shaking his head while maintaining his gaze on Kenneth.
"That's against regulations. Then how do you expect..." Kenneth began, his voice laced with growing irritation at this so-called "Independent Unit."
"...However, we do have an investigation warrant for you."
With that, Solon pulled a document from his pocket and held it up in front of Kenneth's face.
"Colonel Kenneth, in light of the 13th Independent Fleet's recent actions and your history of service with Londo Bell, the Federation believes there is a high probability of your defection. Please submit to an investigation."
"Defection? You're overthinking things."
Even though Kenneth truly did want to follow Bright in rebelling against the Federation, there was no way he would admit it now. "This is utter nonsense. My loyalty to the Federation is beyond reproach."
Facing Kenneth's indignant tone, Solon merely sneered and shook his head.
"Whether you are truly loyal can only be determined after the interrogation is complete, Colonel Kenneth."
Immediately following his words, Solon gestured toward Kenneth. "Take him away!"
Seeing the brute before him acting with such total disregard for protocol, Kenneth instinctively tried to step back to create distance, only to find two members of the Vulture Unit had already blocked the command room entrance.
Before Kenneth could react, a heavy blow slammed into his abdomen.
"Urgh..."
The searing pain caused Kenneth's expression to contort instantly. It felt as though his internal organs were being rearranged; he nearly heaved up the meal he'd eaten on the flight.
Clearly, these "Vulture" thugs had come prepared for a struggle.
Gritting his teeth, Kenneth glared at Solon, who remained standing in the center of the room barking orders.
Stripped of his ability to resist, Kenneth was seized by two Vulture soldiers and dragged out of the command center.
Once Kenneth was gone, Solon turned back and slammed his hand onto the table.
"Keep searching! Don't stop until you've locked onto the Ra Cailum and that mystery battleship!"
Gazing at the radar coverage he had orchestrated—a net already tightening around the Pacific—Solon let out a predatory grin.
"Keep the Penelope on 24-hour standby!"
"Veterans, legends... Hmph. I'll see for myself just how much weight those titles actually hold."
.......................