Kidou Senshi Gundam UC Vol 1 Chapter 1

The s.h.i.+p's alarm sounded. Despite the gooseb.u.mps the sound caused, it made the mind focus as well. The girl went to window on the wall.

Outside the plastic board window was the vacuum of outer s.p.a.ce. Right now, neither the Earth nor the moon could be seen, and only the mult.i.tude of starry spots in the sky lit up the silent darkness. This s.h.i.+p was moving forward at a very fast speed, but the stars outside the window weren't moving at all. It was like being locked in a still darkness.

The girl recalled how she would ask her maidservant, Lamias, the reason for this phenomenon, as she didn't understand it herself. The ever-patient Lamias would give a beaming smile and say: "Princess, that's because the stars are too far away, so they don't see us moving."

That was the excuse the adults gave, but it wasn't without merit. The 17-year-old girl knew this. Lamias was a good maidservant, but she had already been dead for almost ten years now. The girl's youth was shrouded in mystery, and she who was called a princess remained in her memories. But for the moment, the past she bore had to be forgotten for a while.

Because she had forgotten her past, she didn't need a name right now. She stowed herself aboard this s.h.i.+p because she was just a nameless person who was going to where she should be going, to meet the person she should be meeting. That was all.

“That's no ordinary patrol. It was waiting in ambush in this area. There will be enemy mobile suits attacking. Don't let your guard down.”

The crew was scattering Minovsky particles, which could disrupt electromagnetic waves and jam electronics like radar, around the s.h.i.+p, but it was still possible to communicate with internal s.h.i.+p-wide communications. As the s.h.i.+p rang with the people's voices and the sounds of operation, the girl heard the low grunt of the s.h.i.+p’s captain, Suberoa Zinnerman, over the intercom and looked at the darkness outside the window.

As she looked, she saw a pink light fly past the window. It was the glow of a mega-particle cannon beam. The glowing, high-energy beam weapons were due to the development of Minovsky physics. The Earth Federation was shooting at this s.h.i.+p to capture it. This s.h.i.+p ignored the command to stop and continued to spray Minovsky particles around itself as it accelerated away. The next shot wouldn't be a warning shot. The enemy should have realized by now that a civilian s.h.i.+p couldn't be this fast.

The concentrated mega-particles were moving at very close to light speed, and would immediately pierce through the s.h.i.+p's armor if it was a direct hit. Even if it only grazed the hull, the high temperature of the particles themselves might melt a hole in the wall. The girl kicked herself off from the wall of the dim cabin, and moved over to the cupboard in the corner of the room. The cupboard was designated as storage, and its contents were fastened down due to the zero gravity environment. Inside were the three days worth of food and water she had smuggled in, and a s.p.a.cesuit.

The girl pulled everything out of the cupboard, and used the resulting inertia to push her body about, using zero gravity to put on the s.p.a.cesuit with minimal ha.s.sle. This cabin was hardly used, so the crew used it as a storeroom. If the s.h.i.+p was damaged, the life support system in this part of the s.h.i.+p would be one of the first systems to be cut off. In the likely situation of a vacuum, the supplies that were fastened to the wall or the floor would be frozen. The girl didn't want to think of the worst case scenario, where she would be sent flying out of the s.h.i.+p, and put on her s.p.a.ce suit's large helmet.

Though they all looked like members of a s.h.i.+pping crew, the people on the bridge all had combat experience and sounded very calm. Right now, they would be in s.p.a.cesuits, moving to the bridge, which would be filled with flas.h.i.+ng red lights. The girl remembered the that bridge was as cramped as the c.o.c.kpit in a plane; she remembered the thoroughly moustached face of Zinnerman as he sat on the captain's seat; and she wondered whether she should tell him that she was here. If a battle began, it would be best for her to be in the safe protected zone. If she was discovered as a stowaway, she would definitely be sent there anyway. If she died here without being found, it would really be a futile death.

No, she couldn't. If he knew that she was on board as a stowaway, Zinnerman may change the s.h.i.+p’s projected course and go back to the Palau. Even if he didn't, she would be locked up and watched closely. She wouldn't be able to achieve her goal, she wouldn't be able to got out, and she wouldn't be able to meet the person she had to meet. This outcome would cause the deaths of even more people.

This was the only chance, the girl told to herself. She knew this was a reckless act, but there was no other way. This was to prevent Earth from being covered in battle and causing hundreds of thousands of deaths. She could only do that...

Zinnerman’s deep, coa.r.s.e voice could be heard of the intercom, and a clear female voice could be heard responding . The girl remembered the face of the solitary woman, Marida Cruz, who should be of the same age as she was, and looked outside the window. She saw the silver form of the battlefield, and numerous scale powder-like things glittered around the s.h.i.+p. The shutter suddenly appeared and covered the windows as the s.h.i.+p The Garencieres’ was entering battle mode, and all the windows had their protective shutters on.

The only image screen was on the inside of the bridge window, and the protective shutter on the inside of the cabin windows didn’t have such a convenient function. The girl left the wall and hid her body in the gap between some boxes. Under the light of a weak standing lamp, she used the tape that she had included in her supplies to tie her hands together, and focused her attention on the wireless communicator inside her helmet.

She would die when she would, looking outside to scare herself wouldn’t do anything to change that. She might as well gather as much information as possible to deal with the current situation. She calmly and clearly told this to herself as she tucked her knees in and hugged herself in the s.p.a.cesuit.

Suddenly, she felt a chill. It was a chill that the life support of the s.p.a.cesuit couldn’t adjust, a chill that entered deep inside her heart. As she had often gotten involved with the battlefield when she was young, her body was already numb to the fear of it, and this chill seemed to be the price. The girl let herself be the instrument of silence as she closed her eyes and waited for the chill to fade.

The transport s.h.i.+p Garencieres was 112 meters in length, and it was cone-shaped. Its maximum weight capacity was over 500 tons. The bridge was at the front of the s.h.i.+p, which was shaped like the nose of an old airplane. The shape made it look like the designer factored in air resistance, and one could tell that the s.h.i.+p could fly in an atmosphere, and could be used as a transport between Earth and s.p.a.ce. It was a model commonly used by s.h.i.+pping companies in the past, but it was hardly seen anymore.

The words “Ribakoona Trading” on the side indicated the Garencieres was registered as a civilian transport s.h.i.+p, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Right now, the large door on the back of the cone-shaped s.h.i.+p was opening, and the sliding cargo crane was emerging. Instead of carrying cargo though, the crane was carrying a giant, human-shaped robot.

The robot had four limbs that were somewhat thick at the end, and a bulge at the top of the waist that had a beak-shaped piece of armor. The head had a something like a large crest poking out, as well as a single eye-like laser sensor. The almost 20 meter tall humanoid frame had four shoulder-mounted wing-like pods, each one about as tall as the main body. This dark green machine should, by all rights, be called a giant, and the shape was far from a normal human’s. However, its humanoid appearance was far too defined to be called anything but a giant. In this age of mobile suits, giant human-shaped weapons that had the power of a battles.h.i.+p’s main cannon, this machine’s profile was somewhat strange. However, like most mobile suits, it had a ball-shaped c.o.c.kpit in its abdomen, covered in many layers of armor. The figure of the mobile suit’s pilot was already wearing a s.p.a.ce suit, sitting in the c.o.c.kpit, starting the machine.

“Target acquired. There’s a Jegan that’s somewhat fast, possibly a commander type.”

Marida Cruz looked through the full screen display on the inside wall of the c.o.c.kpit, and a small window showed the details of the enemy mobile suit.

, she asked emotionlessly

Captain Zinnerman responded through the wireless communicator.

Marida heard Zinnerman breathe in a more tense manner than before, then came the usual words . The reason it was odd that they would meet a Federation s.h.i.+p here was that it was rare for them to patrol this area of s.p.a.ce. However, it was really abnormal to stop a trading s.h.i.+p on its designated course and ask for an inspection. They had even sent out specially equipped mobile suits.

. Zinnerman had to deduce who leaked the information about his s.h.i.+p, and wondered what he should do next.

“That’s right,” thought Marida, “The next step…. Master doesn’t need to be bothered about this. This is why I exist." Ignoring all other thoughts, Marida put her hands on the control sticks—the hemisphere Arm Raker that allowed all 5 fingers to be gripped together.

“Marida Cruz, Kshatriya, launching.”

As the restraints on the machine were released, the abnormally-shaped mobile suit, Kshatriya, slowly descended from the hangar. It wasn't really accurate to call it “descending”, since there was no concept of up or down in outer s.p.a.ce, but the machine had the feeling of being dangled as it was released from the hangar at the bottom of the s.h.i.+p. Marida released the activation control thrusters and moved under the Garencieres, until she was more than 100 meters from the s.h.i.+p, and stepped on the pedal. The four main thrusters on the wing-like pods let out white light all at once. The Kshatriya left behind the inertial motion of the of the Garencieres, spun and approached from behind its target.

In the ball-shaped c.o.c.kpit was one and a half meters across, and the screen of displayed a full 360 degrees of scenery. The intense rays of the stars. .h.i.t Marida's eyes, and a bystander would feel that Marida's c.o.c.kpit was suddenly floating in the midst of the stars, and that she was flying through them. However, the image of outer s.p.a.ce that was shown around her wasn't a real scene, but a computer-generated image of outer s.p.a.ce that used images of constellations to aid positioning.

One part of the screen showed an enlarged image of three targets. The optical sensor couldn’t capture very much at such a large distance, so it was a rough image. But in contrast, the model number of the targets, RGM-89, was rather clear. It was the mainstream mobile suits of the Earth Federation, the Jegan. The one leading the attack was a special type that had an S-shape extending from its back. The mobile suits abandoned their Geta as they scattered and closed in. Geta was the common name for mobile suits flight packs, used for long range attacks, acting as a flat bed to transport the mobile suits and send them into battle without wasting the mobile suit’s fuel. In short, it was something like a miniature boat for mobile suits. Marida didn't know why they were called Geta.

The three mobile suits were each wielding their main weapon, a beam rifle, as they closed in on Marida. She sensed that the enemies wanted to surround her from three directions outside her weapon’s range, and decided that this battle would be difficult. It wasn't that hard to take down three Jegan, but missing one would open a hole in the defenses of the Garencieres. Rather than being confident or bold in this situation, Marida merely used her head to think of the best way to handle the situation, and let her mobile suit decelerate suddenly.

The four pods swung forward, and the main thrusters on the tips spurt flames ahead of the Kshatirya, causing the suit's speed to immediately drop from meters per second to meters per minute and finally, nothing at all. As her back bore the sudden force of slowing down, Marida endured the discomfort of her eyeb.a.l.l.s feeling like they was going to fly out of her skull, and her fingers swelling as the blood flowed into them. Then she muttered, “Funnels”.

Numerous exhaust lights on the inside of the four wing pods lit up as a pair of two-meter long objects came from each of them, totalling eight of these small things things altogether. They moved normally, and as they hovered around the Kshatriya, their thrusters activated and they rushed to their targets like a bullet.

The sensor cannons were shaped like their name, funnels. The conical objects gathered and dispersed, striking the Jegans that were still outside the Kshatriya’s shooting range. This pattern wasn't automatic, nor was it mechanical long-range control. In a battlefield saturated with Minovsky particles, it was impossible to use electromagnetic waves to control anything, and it was impossible to use a computer to launch an attack on one spot. This weapon, the funnel, was controlled by the pilot's brainwaves.

The Psycho communicator, commonly know as psycommu, was a brainwave guiding system that recorded the brain signals of the pilot, magnified them and sent them as instructions to the funnel units. These brainwaves were also called psycho waves, and they didn’t cause the Minovsky particles to react. Thus, the psycommu didn't run the risk of interference like normal electromagnetic wave transmissions. As long as the pilot could control them, the funnels could be thought of as completely invincible in the modern battlefield, as Minovsky particles would prevent all electronic devices from working. And as it was required to use a large mobile suit like the Kshatriya to protect the pilot and engage in close range combat on the battlefield, the funnels truly became a necessary piece of equipment.

Of course, not everyone could use this system. Even through many improvements, the psycommu system still caused a lot of physical and mental stress on the pilot. However, Marida could operate it better than anyone. More accurately, she had been created to be able to operate the funnels.

The funnels continued to spin as they attacked the two Jegan behind Marida. Due to their size, the funnels weren’t much larger than s.p.a.ce junk. It would be hard to detect them, even with visual sensors. The funnels quickly fired their control thrusters and gradually pinned the Jegans down before shooting out lasers. The Mega-particle energy beams glowed pink and fired completely through the Jegans that hadn’t detected the enemy approaching at all. The funnels were only equipped with a small rechargeable battery, and so the intensity of their laser was low, and didn't have much energy. However, they did have the power to shoot through a mobile suit's armor. The Jegan pilots panicked and started firing beam shots randomly, trying to hit their invisible attackers. However, the funnels continued to destroy the Jegans bit by bit. Electrical transfer fluids continued to shoot out from damaged critical areas like blood, and the Jegans, smaller than the green Kshatriya, were painfully struggling. By this point, the funnels were like a flock of sharks hunting down a whale as they lunged forward to attack.

One, two. Without checking for the lights of explosions, Marida sensed that the two Jegans had already been blown to bits and concentrated on the remaining special unit. Though its backups were already destroyed, the unit didn't slow down at all as it continued to close the distance between itself and the Kshatriya. Marida decided that there was no need to let out new funnels and again pushed the Kshatriya forward.

The psycommu showed an image of the specially equipped unit that was more like a human, with added armor and thrusters. Before it entered the Kshatriya's range, the recoilless rocket launcher the Jegan was wielding let out a flash, and a physical sh.e.l.l with a diameter of 380 millimeters came flying at the Kshatriya. This high-powered shot was a normal size for a mobile suit’s recoilless rifle, and though it had the disadvantage of being small, the destructive power it contained was be larger than that of a beam weapon. Right now, it was in shotgun mode, and as it exploded, hundreds of metallic b.a.l.l.s scattered around the Kshatriya. However, Marida had expected this, and dodged with the smallest of movements. The pilot of the specially-equipped mobile suit seemed to have also expected it to be dodged and used the scattered pellets as a smokescreen, firing his thrusters and getting above the Kshatriya.

With this, the battle became a typical mobile suit battle, as was commonly seen in this era, as if to prove why humanoid weapons were so valued. The specially equipped Jegan's missile launcher again fired another sh.e.l.l, and let out the missiles that were mounted on the shoulders. The Khastriya activated its main thruster to move up and grazed past the missiles as they pa.s.sed. She then deployed the four wing-pods horizontally, spun the mobile suit 90 degrees, and flew forward. The Kshatriya slipped through the Jegan's trajectory, and into the dark outer s.p.a.ce to get the initiative.

Normally, only thruster exhaust is needed to change directions in the vacuum of outer s.p.a.ce. However, mobile suits had another system called the Active Ma.s.s Balance Control, or AMBAC system. Though there's no gravity in outer s.p.a.ce to cause weight, objects still have all their ma.s.s, and a one Newton push would require one Newton of force; the force required would be equivalent to the force exerted. The main princ.i.p.al behind the AMBAC system is Newton’s third law of motion: for every action, there is an equal but opposite reaction. Simply put, the system could control any of a mobile suit's limbs, and use the “equal but opposite reaction” to change the direction the mobile suit faces. This was the one of the main reasons why mobile suits were the strongest weapons of the era, standing head and shoulders above any other.

The Kshatriya skilfully used its four thick limbs and four wing-pods to maneuver as it closed in on the Jegan via a complicated trajectory. The two machines' thrusters were glowing, and these two humanoid robots gave every impression of dancing in outer s.p.a.ce. The explosions of the bullets flashed on the screens of both suit's c.o.c.kpits. Under cover of the explosions, Marida closed in on the enemy. The Kshatriya's pods opened like a blooming metallic flower, with the one s.h.i.+ning eye in the middle. The metallic flower was covered with beam cannons, and it used the impact from the explosions to become the most savage and beautiful flower in outer s.p.a.ce.

These images were all displayed on the c.o.c.kpit screens in the Jegan. Both machines were within a few meters of each other, an extremely close distance in outer s.p.a.ce, and could use their optical sensors to look directly at one another. A battlefield saturated with Minovsky particles meant close-range combat, and thus it was common to see machines go in close for attacks. In situations like this, there was a need for a one-on-one battle, which was another reason mobile suits were designed as humanoids.

The moment before she crossed the Jegan’s path, Marida switched from the firearms to the beam saber and aimed at the abdomen of the Jegan. The Ksatriya used its mechanical hand to grab the handle of the beam saber and draw it out from the wrist holster. Particles of light shot more than ten meters from the handle, and formed a blade that hacked through the Jegan's abdomen.

The Jegan seemed like it wanted to draw its own beam saber, but reacted too slowly. The beam saber that could cut through 30 centimeters of metal in a second, melted through the Jegan's abdomen, and a metallic sound struck Marida’s mind through the suit.

At the same time Marida heard the voice of the other pilot, whether through wireless signal, or a sense other than her hearing, she did not know. No matter how she heard the voice, though, things ended here. The beam saber slashed through the armor of the Jegan, going straight through the c.o.c.kpit, immediately vaporizing the pilot, and slicing the entire machine in half. The nuclear reactor inside the Jegan didn't explode as the machine was hacked in half at the waist, and floated away. The burnt remains were still giving off sparks, and the remains of the machine floated past this enemy called the “Sleeve” and silently disappeared.

Marida watched silently as she stowed her beam saber. The wrist of the Kshatriya had a place to keep a beam saber, and was adorned with a crest that looked like a wing—something that looked like a sleeved decoration. The mobile suits of the organization Marida belonged to all had such a design, which was why the Federation called them “Sleeves”, but that wasn't important to Marida at all.

No, it wasn’t just the nickname that wasn’t important. Even the ideal of being an Anti-Earth Federation organization or the content of this mission weren't important. Humans were animals that could think and had curiosity, but Marida felt that this definition wasn't suited for her.

Just like how a man was born a man and a woman was born a woman, Marida Cruz was born a pilot, and lived as a pilot. To follow her master's orders and destroy the enemy mobile suits was her only desire. Perhaps theGarencieres should enter the debris field before the enemy mothers.h.i.+p arrived. Right now, though, Marida had to return to her s.h.i.+p as soon as possible, do a damage inspection on the Kshatriya, readjust and resupply. Once she was done, she would prepare for the next launch and get as much rest as possible. She wouldn't do anything else, and wouldn't think of anything else. Marida didn't feel this was in any way unnatural, and she didn't feel sad about it either.

However, once the battle ended, as she relaxed from her tense state after having concentrated for so long, her empty soul would feel some pain. The emotions she suppressed in the battlefield would awaken, and her mind would complain about the unhappiness. As the fire of the funnels destroyed the enemy machines, it felt as if the psycommu system were working in reverse, as she felt really complicated, uneasy about the dying scrams of the pilots that entered her mind. When she sliced the specially-equipped mobile suit, it felt as if she had personally sliced a pilot to death, and the final cringe before he died would cause an uneasiness in both her mind and soul. After recalling the funnels, Marida switched back to full screen view to let the c.o.c.kpit screens show outer s.p.a.ce.

Marida reached up, took off the helmet of her s.p.a.cesuit, and loosened the hair that was tied behind her head. The straight, waist-length hair was pushed aside, and the hair of a healthy 18-year-old should have floated infront of her eyes, but Marida was instead staring at the starry sky.

The c.o.c.kpit screens of a mobile suit wouldn't show outer s.p.a.ce as it actually appeared if there wasn’t some specific reason. It wasn’t just because it was hard to accurately capture and display, but also because the risk of the pilot panicking was too great. The reality of outer s.p.a.ce was so dark, grim and filled with emptiness that it seemed as if it would swallow all existence. However, Marida liked the view to be this way.

During the short time she had before she returned to the s.h.i.+p, Marida took off her helmet and relaxed her entire body as she remained in the vacuum of vast emptiness. This let her feel as if the uneasiness inside her would be washed away. Each star would perform a music she had never heard before, bringing her to another place. To an outer s.p.a.ce that didn't have war or unhappiness, that people didn't need s.p.a.ce suits to explore.

Of course, such a place didn't exist. Outside this c.o.c.kpit was an outer s.p.a.ce of vacuum deadly to humans, and a reality filled with problems—the human social circle known as the Earth's boundary. Marida adjusted the main camera of the Kshatriya and looked at Earth, far away enough that it was only the size of a tennis ball.

Like many s.p.a.ce migrants, she had never stepped onto Earth even once. Marida knew by the object floating in front of the blue body of the Earth that the Garencieres’ target was near. Floating in one of the Lagrange points between Earth and the Moon was the rubble of the past war; this debris field was home to numerous destroyed s.p.a.ce colonies and s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps.

Humanity had created s.p.a.ce colony settlements, known as Sides, in the five Lagrange points around Earth and the Moon, and most of humanity had been living in outer s.p.a.ce for almost 100 years by now. The wounds of this grand-scale war ran deep, and the debris field was one of them. The place people used to call Side 5 was no longer there, and what remained was a floating graveyard of countless frozen remains. The final destination of Marida and the rest, the colony known as 'Industrial 7', should be located somewhere deep inside this graveyard.

Right now, though, it was impossible to find the colony in the large amount of rubble, but she did find the Garencieres which began to move towards her. Marida again checked to see if there were any pursuers behind her before pus.h.i.+ng the Kshatriya on. The nuclear rocket engine sounded through the machine as it jerked, and the force of acceleration pressed on her uneasy body. The helmet that was floating in the c.o.c.kpit hit the rear screen and let out a light thud.

The moment the vibration of the alarm clock woke him, Banagher Links thought "I am so out of it today."

As he turned the alarm off, he saw the time was 4:20 AM. After confirming the time, he stealthily got out of bed. It was still pitch black outside. He could barely see the contents two-man dorm room: the beds, desks, or dressers that were still covered in darkness. The only sounds Banagher could hear were the clock ticking away the seconds, and his roommate Takuya Irei snoring away on the other bed.

It was, of course, impossible for a room inhabited by two stinky guys to be anything resembling clean, as there would always be things like discarded clothing and empty food containers. However, there was still some order in the mess, and Banagher was able to grab his s.h.i.+rt and jeans without turning on the lights, and tiptoed his way to the bathroom. He quickly combed and washed himself, then looked at himself in the mirror above the sink.

He had dark brown eyes and the skin color of someone with Middle Eastern blood. His long hair was the same color as his eyes, and it was rather smooth even if he didn’t take care of it. Upon seeing that his 16-year-old boyish face was completely ordinary and nothing special, a disjointed feeling rose up in him. However, this feeling only persisted until he put on his coat.

It was the official jacket of the Anaheim Electronics Industrial College. The logo of the parent company, Anaheim Electronics, was sewn on the left side of the blue, fireproof materials. This jacket wasn’t fas.h.i.+onable enough that it could be worn outside shop cla.s.ses, but Banagher had modified the extra one he bought and used it as casual wear. The main modification was on the collar; the crest of the Anaheim Electronics Industrial College, AEIC, looked like it had been removed. Of course, Banagher hadn’t removed it himself, rather a second-hand shop he was familiar with did the job for him.

Banagher finished putting on his clothing to help suppress the disjointed feeling. What replaced it was the realism of him being part of the large enterprise of Anaheim Electronics. Once he slapped his face to help keep himself awake, Banagher left the bathroom, checked that his roommate was still deep in dreamland, and began to move silently towards the room’s exit. On the way, however, he tripped over an object roughly the size of a basketball laying on the floor.

The two circular disks on the ball-shaped body flapped out like ears as the impact from the kick activated the Haro unit, and made it speak in a loud, but monotonous voice. Banagher frantically tried to hold down the Haro as it moved around the floor. He soflty growled “Quiet, Haro!” But it was too late. Takuya, who had had the pillow covering his head, wriggled around his bed, and the moment his eyes met Banagher’s, he sat up.

“d.a.m.n it, Banagher!” Takuya roared out, “You don’t care about our agreement at all do you? We aren’t supposed to sneak out!”

His tea-colored hair was all messy, and he was so angry he had even forgotten to wipe away the drool from his mouth. Though the impression his roommate usually gave was something like an affectionate big brother, his popularity with the ladies would likely drop were they to see him like this. However, Banagher didn’t have time to think about popularity, and as he carried Haro out of the apartment, he asked: “Didn’t you set your clock five minutes fast, Takuya?” Banagher put Haro on the floor, and grabbed the sandwich he had bought yesterday. Haro was jumping energetically like a self-propelled ball, out through the automatic door that led to the hallway.

Banagher ran through the school campus that was linked to the dorm, down the stairs that linked the school atrium and the road, and arrived at an electric car station. The stations were managed by computers, and would automatically send vehicles to locations with the highest frequency of use. Anyone with an ID card could use them. Banagher took a bite from his sandwich as he got into the open, two-seat electric car. He inserted his ID card to into a slot on the dashboard, pressed the start b.u.t.ton, grabbed the steering wheel, and stepped on the accelerator.

Perhaps because Banagher was holding the steering wheel with the only one hand, the other held his sandwich, Haro had spoken up, flas.h.i.+ng its optical sensors at the same time. Haro had a first-level artificial intelligence in its ball-shaped body and was supposed to be a toy robot marketed toward children. This normally wouldn’t be something belonging to a vocational student in the equivalent of high school, but Banagher had modified it, and carried it around like a pet.

The streets were quiet before dawn. Banagher swallowed the last of his sandwich and looked up through the winds.h.i.+eld at the sky. Through the clouds scattered in the night sky, he could see numerous lights flickering. They looked like stars, but they weren’t. Those flickering lights were the lights from the windows of shops, factories, and skysc.r.a.per windows that stayed open throughout the night. It was the city lights that just so happened to be above Banagher. The carpet of lights was about 6000 meters above, and covered the entire sky in a gradual arc. In the gap between skysc.r.a.pers in front of him, Banagher could see the lights climb to the sky ahead of him. If anyone in those lights above were to look at the sky, the headlights of the electric car and the surrounding street lights would look like stars to them.

The artificial ground within the large cylinder of the s.p.a.ce colony was covered with houses, office buildings, parks, and other important things that made up everyday society. The internal structure of almost all s.p.a.ce colonies were like this. The cylinder that was 6.4 kilometers across would spin at a definite speed, creating a centrifugal force on the inside of the walls, creating artificial gravity equivalent to gravity on Earth. The constructed ground on the inside of the cylinder were on large areas 3.2 kilometers long and 1.6 kilometers wide. Big enough that from the inside the ground wouldn’t look like it curved with the wall of the colony. At most, the joints where the plates met would look a little slanted.

Day and night inside the s.p.a.ce colony were created via the mirrors outside the cylinder itself, or by an artificial sun at the center, which also helped in adjusting the temperature and replicating the seasons. The time was set to Greenwich Mean Time, and the climate was set to emulate the Northern Hemisphere. Unless there were special issues for tourism, these basic settings were used for every s.p.a.ce colonies. Thus, right now, on the 7th of April, at 4:30 AM, the residential area itself was neither too hot, nor too cold, and most of the colonies were still in middle of night. The billions of residents of those colonies were, just like the residents of this one, ‘Industrial 7’, were also waiting in the night for spring.

Banagher was one of those billions of people, and had been getting up before daylight for a while now, in order to get to the s.p.a.ce dock to work. The work involved clearing junk away from the outside of s.p.a.ce colonies. It was tough getting up early in the morning, but it wasn’t that bad, since Banagher could easily sleep through the general education periods in school. It was worth more to work three hours before lessons though, since three hours of the morning s.h.i.+ft payed more than working five hours after school on the evening s.h.i.+ft did.

Takuya worked at the same place as Banagher; the first one to clock in got a mini mobile suit that was better-suited for the kind of work they did, and their wages would increase based on their job performance. Thus, the two of them would race to see who would get out first. Though underhanded methods were considered poor form, everything else was fair game. So Banagher and Takuya were always thinking of ways to sneak out of their dorm without waking the other one. Right now, the chances of winning were about 50/50.

All that being said though, the two of them were still doing well in their studies. They were attending a vocational school where it was required for them to stay in the dorm, and their clothing and food were provided for them. The most they needed was some spending money. "This is just a game," Banagher thought.

”A game to shake off my roommate and getting a high capability mini mobile suit. A game to shake off studies, using work to get rid of boredom. Everyone else is the same. Enjoying the game of student’s relaxation and not facing that disjointedness…

Babagher had no idea how Haro reached this realization that struck through him. “This is seperate from studying!” Banagher answered back, feeling that the robot had a very good read on him, “The vocational students here will all become employees of Anaheim. It’s not like it’s a bad thing to test out this mini mobile suit first.”

On the one hand, he wondered how he ended up making this kind of excuse, but on the other hand, he felt really satisfied by it. Banagher again felt that ‘disjointed’ feeling. This was a future he wouldn’t have even dared dream of a year ago, and as he looked forward to the twelve wonderful years ahead of him, he felt as if he were just drifting with the flow, and yet feeling a bit bad for walking on the path others had set in stone. However, there wasn’t anything else he really wanted to do. He would maintain his grades in the middle-high tier, party with others, and feel extremely out of place. The psychological reason behind this disjointed feeling had started when Banagher was very young, and had now became a bad habit.

The electric car moved through the colony’s residential area and into a heavy-industry zone set between two light-industrial areas. Banagher parked the electric car at a parking station near a convenience store and walked down to the nearby subway station. Thinking that Takuya might catch up to him if he kept letting himself get distracted, he left his stupid problems behind as his feet naturally quickened through the silent street.

Industrial 7 was one of the industrial s.p.a.ce colonies Anaheim Electronics operated. Under the control of the s.p.a.ce Colonies a.s.sociation, the management of facilities was completely controlled by Anaheim Electronics. Amongst the population of two million, more than half of them worked for Anaheim Electronics, or was directly related to someone who did. Of the remaining one million, half of them worked in enterprises related to Anaheim, or in underground companies, and those who were unrelated to Anaheim were mostly civil servants working with government administration, the police, or the fire department. The colony didn’t belong to any Side, and it didn’t have any form of self-government, so the Federation Army didn’t maintain a military presence. This s.p.a.ce colony was basically Anaheim Electronics’ personal island.

After the One Year War, Anaheim Electronics began to recover and absorbed other, smaller companies, eventually becoming a large corporation that many people called the ‘Spoon of the s.p.a.ce Army’. The company grew so large, that supermarkets, fast food chains, and most other companies in any given commercial district would all bear the logo of Anaheim Electronics. There were movies sponsored by Anaheim Electronics, sports teams sponsored by Anaheim in away games, and people using AE credit cards to pay for all of these. Money would flow around within the corporation, forming a structure where the money was paid out, then taken back. However, none of it was ever forced, and it was all done such that the residents wouldn’t notice anything. This was the reason why Anaheim Electronics had become the world’s largest corporation. Banagher glanced at the posters outside the station, 80% of which were somehow related to the corporation, went through the turnstile, and onto the platform.

The whole of Industrial 7 was just like a factory. At all times there were people working. However, there was no real s.h.i.+ft change, such as during morning peak hours. Therefore, on the subway, there was only a drunk, middle-aged man who had collapsed in his work clothes, and a woman who looked as if she worked in a night club, and whose thick make-up was coming off. She didn’t notice Banagher get on the train as she looked emotionlessly out the window. The smell of old perfume inside the train car reminded one of the smell of a hometown long ago given up on. Banagher saw a double-wide seat and quickly sat down.

The three layers of doors closed, and the train jerked slightly before moving from the platform into the tunnels leading to the outside of the s.p.a.ce colony. It was called the subway, but subways in the s.p.a.ce colonies didn’t run underground, but along rail tracks on the exposed outer walls of the s.p.a.ce colony. In other words, the train was hanging on the tracks and transported outside the s.p.a.ce colony—in outer s.p.a.ce.

Soon after the train left the station, the air lock door at the end of the ramp was locked behind it. Then, the air lock door in front opened, and the train entered the vacuum of outer s.p.a.ce. The sound of both movement and air-flow disappeared in the train, and an ear-stuffing silence filled the car. The train went through the air lock and glided across outer wall of the s.p.a.ce colony.

As there was no air resistance, only a minimal amount of force was be required to move the train at high speed along the track. In a s.p.a.ce colony, this was one of the most efficient modes of transport. It was the fastest way to get to the dock, faster than taking a cable car from the bottom of the colony, or even riding the elevator up in an electric car. Banagher also preferred to look at outer s.p.a.ce from the train’s window, so this place had a sense of release other places couldn’t provide.

There were people who didn’t want to take the train for fear of motion sickness, though. To create a centrifugal force of 1g, the s.p.a.ce colony had to make one rotation about every two minutes, which worked out to a rotational speed of more than 600 kilometers per hour. If it were to follow the movement of the rotation, the subway train would appear to continually move, and to a pa.s.senger, it would look like someone shaking the bottom of a toilet bowl full of stars at incredibly high speeds. Of course, as it was just a long rotation of more than 20 kilometers, it would merely look like the stars were constantly moving. However, if one weren’t careful, the mind would feel dizzy upon returning to the inside of the s.p.a.ce colony, and. In the worst cases, it would cause severe a psychological problem, called Coriolis Syndrome: a common environment illness amongst the first generation of s.p.a.ce migrants. However, to Banagher ,who had been born and raised in the s.p.a.ce colonies, looking out from the window into outer s.p.a.ce was like looking at an exhibition, something that was merely a little different from everyday life. Once outside the s.p.a.ce colony, Banagher could clearly see the in-progress construction of Industrial 7.

Industrial 7 orbited in the shoal s.p.a.ce at L1, between the Moon and Earth. It was shaped like a large oxygen tank, and the end undergoing construction was facing Earth. On the other side, the side that faced the moon, there was a covered settlement-building tool commonly known as “Wheels”. After construction was completed, the cylinder of the colony would be 30 kilometers long. Right now, though, only 18 kilometers were completed. In fact, Banagher remembered, there was a new plate arriving today.

The notice board at the dorm had a poster saying “On 7 April, at 1:00 PM, there will be a new plate extension which will cause inconvenience…” and so on. This meant that there would be new artificial land added. The cylinder of Industrial 7 would be extended by another six kilometers. The s.p.a.ce colonies were floating amongst the large amount of rubbish from the last war. No matter how much it expanded, the world Banagher lived in would be that size.

As Banagher thought about this, as his mind thought of that “disjointedness”, he saw something white flash past, outside the window.

It wasn’t a star. It let out several exhaust lights of blueish-white, going past in a diagonal manner and flying faster than the rotation of the s.p.a.ce colony. It was only for a moment, and was far enough away that it looked only about the size of a small fingertip, but Banagher was sure that the afterimage looked human.

“A mobile suit…?”

It was completely different from a mini mobile suit, like the one Banagher used for work. It was a real mobile suit. It wasn’t just a complete duplicate of a human being’s dimensions, though. as Banagher saw a single horn which extended from the head. Industrial 7 didn’t have a factory that could create mobile suits, so it couldn’t be a new mobile suit field test. Was the army nearby?

For some reason, Banagher’s pulse started to race, and his palms began to sweat. The uncanny resemblance to a white horse—no, the impressive lone horn made it look not like a mere white horse, but like a mystical beast from legend. What was it called though...

At that moment, the “disjointed” world became apparent, and it seemed that something previously unseen had appeared before Banagher. However, he could find no way to describe this. Banagher put his face to the window, eagerly looking for the white machine. The nightclub-styled woman sitting behind him wasn’t moving, and the man in worker’s clothing was still snoring loudly.

The train reached one end of the s.p.a.ce colony ,and turned down a corner. The front end of the colony looked like a sealed, round pressure tube. The train moved through the seal, and to the docking bay in the center. Banagher couldn’t find the white mobile suit and sat back. Outside the winds.h.i.+eld, one could see the immense docking bay linking to several large buildings near the commercial area, and the sheer weight of the sight would make anyone gasp for breath. However, Banagher no longer cared about it. He merely felt the intense white afterimage in his eyes start to fade away, as his heart started to beat wildly for some reason.

This was how everything began.

The white machine moved past the rotating s.p.a.ce colony and headed off in the opposite direction from the docking bay, towards the Moon.

Similar to those of the other s.p.a.ce colonies, the outer walls of Industrial 7 were of a blueish-silver color. However, at the 18 kilometer point, facing the moon, the color changed to a tea-brown color. This was because the s.p.a.ce colony building tool, the Wheel, was set on the end of the moon's side.

The Wheel was 10 kilometers long and 6.4 kilometers across, just like a normal s.p.a.ce colony. From a distance, it looked like an Eastern teacup, and the part that covered the s.p.a.ce colony looked like a pencil case. Its job was to build the outer wall of the s.p.a.ce colony, and the plate block on the inside of the wall. As the name “Wheel” would indicate, the s.p.a.ce colony was created out from the large cover. Once the outer wall was built and aligned properly, the Wheel would slide back the appropriate distace before separating. The front end of the cover had a gate to move equipment, and a workers quarters. This meant that, even with the expansion work, the s.p.a.ce colony could continue to operate without day-to-day life being affected.

Right now, Industrial 7 had the Wheel’s equipment at the entrance, at the bottom of the “cup”. This way, other machinery and equipment could be moved in through the large machine. The white ma.s.s went past the outer wall of the Wheel, and shortly reached the far end of moon side of the colony, and the large machine, the Magallanica, that was attached to it.

The Magallanica was about 6,500 meters long, and the long, thin center exposed the rotational residential area that was 1.6 kilometers long. The machine’s unique shape earned it the moniker of “Snail”. Both sides of the of the rotating residential area had factories sticking out, looking like little asteroids that were absorbing resources. The seemingly-biological appearance matched the Magallanica’s nickname well. On the back of its main body, there was a nuclear pulse engine. Due to the fact that it could navigate on its own, it could be said to be a giant s.p.a.cesuit. Due to its ability to create, refine, and even build s.p.a.ce colonies, it would be more appropriate to call theMagallanica a mobile factory with an engine. In fact, the Magallanica was cla.s.sified as a s.p.a.ce colony builder, and its dimensions were very different from those of a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p.

At the area of the Magallanica that was the head of the snail shape, there was an oval-shaped command center. The white machine slowed down in front of it, made a flip with the AMBAC system, flew along the arc of the windows, and went up. Several unmanned cameras followed its path, taking shots of several of the machine's parts: the main thruster on the back of the machine, the overall image of straight and curved contours, and the complicated antenna that extended out from the forehead. These images were immediately a.n.a.lyzed and displayed on multiple screens in the command room, all in front of Cardeas Vist.

The dome-shaped command room was more than 70 meters across, and had a fan-shaped command system that gave the impression of the bridge of a docked s.h.i.+p combined with the control center of a military base. The inside walls of the dome-shaped s.p.a.ce seemed to be filled with nothing but screens and windows. Displayed on the fan-shaped metal board in the middle was a control panel full of messages and switches. The Magallanica was a s.p.a.ce colony builder meant to develop the area around Jupiter, and it was this opulent command room which bore the responsibility of a central brain. However, as it was now in Earth's vicinity, most of the control functions weren’t used. Thus, only a fourth of the control seats were occupied, and the whole scene seemed somewhat relaxed.

However, every single one of the 20 control personnel looked rather serious. They were staring at the screens on the wall and recording the data there on the computers in their hands. The command room hummed with intensity, and it wasn't just because of the end of the overnight operation experiment. It was because they knew that the UC Project itself was about to end. Cardeas also felt this excitement as he sat in the central seat of the command room.

The Earth Federation had requested Anaheim Electronics to secretly carry out the UC Project, and that project would end with the completion of this white mobile suit. However, that would also be the beginning of Cardeas’ plan.

The product of this UC Project, the RX-0 “Unicorn” mobile suit, would be born out of the darkness, where even the army and Anaheim wouldn't see, and would become the key to a journey that would break a hundred-year-old curse. The machine that bore the name of the beast of possibilities would bring release to the world or—

“RX-0, you are too close to the s.p.a.ce colony! The train is moving! What will happen if a pa.s.senger sees you?”

An operator, who also bore the secrecy of this job, roared into the microphone. Cardeas also felt nervous when he saw the Unicorn close in on the outer walls of the s.p.a.ce colony, but a daring pilot was a reliable pilot.

“Today is his last time piloting the Unicorn,” Cardeas said with a wry smile, “Forgive him.”

“Yes, sir...” Even though he kept back his att.i.tude, the operator still couldn't hide the emotions on his face as he looked at the screen. Even though he was a overly serious, he was still a good worker, and Cardeas' wry smile made this even more obvious. All the workers here, including the test pilots, were Anaheim Electronics employees involved in the UC Project. The Vist Foundation gave them a high salary in return for their silence and aid to fulfil Cardeas’ plan. Of course, not a single one of them was the kind of person who could be bought over with money, and all of them were outstanding technicians who hoped for the Unicorn to be completed successfully.

Right now, the only person in the room who wasn't a member of Anaheim Electronics was probably Gael Chan, who was standing beside Cardeas. He was Cardeas’ secretary and bodyguard. Gael, who, like Cardeas, had also been in the military, joked, “That’s just what you’d expect an ex-pilot to say.” He was in charge of maintaining the secrecy of this project, and now, he should be reviewing the security at the secret stronghold in Magallanica.

Gael had once been involved in an underground society, so he knew of the dealings within the army and the police. If there was a need for it, he would do a dirty job without hesitation. Gael had a bitter look on his face, which made Cardeas feel that he had something to say. He whispered, “What is the matter?”

“We just made contact with our allies on Luna II,” Gael whispered back, “A Londo Bell s.h.i.+p engaged the Sleeves, lost three mobile suits, and let them get away.”

Londo Bell was an independent mobile squadron of the Earth Federation, and didn't have a designated control area. It was a brigade that dealt with things once there was something to deal with. The command system was obviously different from that of a normal squadron, so it was more like an external organization, than part of the army.

And Londo Bell set an ambush around the shoal s.p.a.ce region and fought with the Sleeves. To Cardeas, who had something important to complete, he couldn't just leave this alone.

“So news was leaked. Has Londo Bell take any more action?”

“We've tried looking into news on Londenion, but there's nothing yet. The commander's a really upright person.”

“He's called Bright Noa, right? I saw him before on a television interview or something like that. Such a man...”

“RX-0 has pa.s.sed its final phase. All objectives complete.” The voice of the operator rang out, and Cardeas looked back to the front.

“Good work. The mental response to the G-force is within expectations.”

“Pilot's lifesigns all all normal.”

The sounds of reports continued to echo through the room, and behind Cardeas, Gael went quiet and seemed to back away. "Has it arrived?" Cardeas asked as he rubbed his eyes, and looked at the screen to confirm that the white machine had already entered the planned return trajectory.

“Everyone, please swear this together with me,” Cardeas said into the microphone on the control panel, “The activation experiment of the RX-0 has successfully completed. Once it returns, we are going to remove the test OS, seal the NT-D, and activate the Laplace system.”

The air rumbled a little, and soon, the command room was filled with an urgent silence. As the workers floated in front of the screen in zero gravity, they were all grabbing their things and looking at the chairman with nervous expressions.

“I'm grateful to everyone for taking part in this. The UC Project will never see the light of day, your accomplishments here will not be pa.s.sed down through the generations. However, I would like to guarantee to everyone that here, where history will be made, the Unicorn will play an important role. Before that day, however, I hope that everyone remains silent about this and forgets everything you have heard here. The Vist Foundation will use its name and influence to ensure all of your safety. That is all.”

The “safety” that had just been guaranteed meant that all the people here would be watched by the Foundation. All their relations.h.i.+ps and communication records would be thoroughly examined. It was, after all, unknown just how much the workers knew. Gael indicated with his eyes for everyone to applaud, and after a slightly awkward applause, Cardeas put down the microphone.

Now, all the preparations were complete. The Unicorn would be sealed and handed to the recipient. If the recipient had the necessary element within themselves, the Unicorn would approach them, carry them, and lead them to Laplace’s Box.

After that, it was impossible to predict what would happen. If the recipient didn't have the needed element, the seal of the Unicorn will not be broken—no, there was a bigger problem. There was no proof to indicate a person with the necessary qualities even existed. No matter how much he planned, there was no guarantee that the plan would work. Cardeas' conclusion, therefore, was not to think about it. He turned around and looked at Gael.

“Proceed according to plan,” Cardeas said, “Continue to track Londo Bell's movements. If we can't track the commander, we can still know where the fleets are going if we follow their supply lines.”

“Understood... but, aren't you going to reconsider?”

Grabbing onto the handle of the chair, Gael lowered his upper body and whispered to Cardeas. Cardeas looked at Gael's face.

“They not related to the Federation, but the Sleeves are still a dangerous organization. There's no need for the head of the Vist Foundation to personally meet them.”

On seeing Gael's expression, which was practically screaming “Think about your age!”, Cardeas couldn't help but grimace inwardly. Even if this wasn't something directly related to the Foundation, Cardeas didn't want to hand it over to other people. After all, if there was really someone who fit the plan’s requirements, Cardeas wanted to see what kind of person they were.

“If you really think that, then just do your work properly and safely, and try to prevent trouble here in Industrial 7,” Cardeas said in a half-joking manner, “Besides, I'm the chairman of a school here.”

As he spoke, he used the computer beside him to open the introductory page of Anaheim Electronics Industrial College. Gael didn't smile as he used his eyes to ask “Is this really alright?”, but left the command room quietly. On seeing Gaelfloat down the corridor, Cardeas looked back at the screen displaying the logo of Anaheim Electronics and a photo of the school.

After keying in the pa.s.sword that indicated he was the chairman, Cardeas looked through the list of student names. A list that was never to be released to the public. As Cardeas scrolled through the alphabetical list of five thousand students, he stopped a certain photo on the screen, and then sighed in what seemed a habitual manner.

Now that he thought about it, he really shouldn't be using this place to make deals. However, there was no better place to hide from the eyes of both the client and the developer, and there was no better place to install the Laplace System in the Unicorn. The industrial s.p.a.ce colony builder Magallanica, jointly owned by Vist Foundation and Anaheim Electronics, symbolized a good inseparable location that could fool the army and Anaheim. A secret garden to readjust the Unicorn. Cardeas silently watched as the screen showed an enlarged profile of the student.

Banagher Links. Currently of the Technical Resource development branch. 16 years old. As Cardeas looked at the birthday and the listed personal particulars, he again sighed, and looked at the boyish face that seemed to represent his youth.

The dock of a s.p.a.ce colony was called a docking bay, mostly as a holdover from when s.p.a.ce development was still under way. In that age, when humanity finally found a way to send s.p.a.ce stations into low orbit above Earth, the s.h.i.+ps that went to and fro were just docking with the s.p.a.ce stations. The size of the stopping point wasn't large enough to be called a “bay”. There were also quite a few cases of s.p.a.ce stations being linked to each other. Regardless of terminology though, the early s.p.a.ce constructions were just relay platforms.

Right now, the docking bay at the front end of the s.p.a.ce colony had seven s.p.a.ce docks of different sizes inside its cylindrical sh.e.l.l, and a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p at the dock would merely be stopped in zero gravity, waiting for the immigration check and other bureaucratic procedures. The zero gravity industrial area of Industrial 7 was linked to the docking bay, so there was a ring-shaped construct that reached out from the s.p.a.ce colony. Including the cylindrical docking bay, the entire a.s.sembly was over 3.5 kilometers long. All of the factories in the colony had a dock for transport s.h.i.+ps to dock, so there weren't just ten or twenty s.h.i.+ps that came in and went. There were so many of them it was like fireflies surrounding a high pressure bottle.

4:15 AM. The Garencieres became one of those fireflies as it gradually approached the brand-new docking bay of Industrial 7. The s.p.a.ce colony was only half complete and still new, and the platform showed a dim glow. Even more eye-catching, though, was the light reflected from the solar panels. The four rows of five kilometer-long rectangular solar panels were aligned beside the s.p.a.ce colony, and their main surface was always facing the sun. The electricity obtained from the solar panels was sent to the s.p.a.ce colony via microwaves. To the isolated environment of the s.p.a.ce colony of Industrial 7, this was a must.

Of course, it was very easy to get electromagnetic interference when the electricity was being transferred, so the solar panel wouldn’t be in a path where s.h.i.+ps docked. Despite that, the Garencieres grazed by the solar panels and reduced its velocity relative to Industrial 7. As the s.h.i.+p past a piece of solar panel reflecting sunlight, the hatch opened, releasing a mobile suit from the hangar.

There was a dark green body and a single, glowing pink eye. This was an AMS-129 “Geara Zulu”, the mobile suit that made up most of the Sleeves’ fighting forces. It looked like a cross between a knight from the Middle Ages, and an early 20th Century soldier wearing a helmet and a gas mask. As it moved past the solar panel, the mobile suit dropped off the Garencieres, using the s.h.i.+eld on its right shoulder to reflect sunlight, and soon began to let out bursts of thrust. Next to the large solar panel, the 20 meter-tall, human-shaped machine was like dust. Once it slipped through a gap behind the structure of the solar panel, it was as good as invisible.

Not even 10 seconds had pa.s.sed from the time the Geara Zulu left the Garencieres until it disappeared behind the solar panel. Even though the s.h.i.+p’s trajectory had been cleared, this region of s.p.a.ce still had lots of debris around, and the s.p.a.ce traffic control couldn’t possibly notice a single s.h.i.+p’s mysterious actions. Even if there were someone serious enough to take out a pair of binoculars and look, the light reflected off the solar panel would conceal everything. Marida Cruz looked back at the solar panel, then back at the s.h.i.+p’s bridge.

Located on the left and right sides of the bridge were the helmsman’s station, and the navigational station, respectively. In the back, and slightly elevated over the rest of the bridge, was the captain’s seat. The bridge of theGarencieres was full with just those three things, and those who didn’t have a position here couldn’t stay for long without getting uncomfortable. However, since the ceiling still had a definite height, there weren’t much problems when under zero gravity. In zero gravity, everyone on board could squeeze into the three-dimensional s.p.a.ce the bridge provided.

“This will take a while,” the captain, Suberoa Zinnerman, bellowed to the microphone, “But it’ll be over before the day is out. Just bear with it.”

The old captain’s hat, brown leather coat, and rough stubble of moustache made him