The void of space outside the viewport was no longer empty. As our transport cleared the final approach vectors to the asteroid fortress of A Baoa Qu, the sheer scale of the Zeon remnants took my breath away. Fleet upon fleet of Musai-class cruisers and Chivvay-class heavy ships filled the dark, surrounded by the swarming, and thruster-flashes of countless mobile suits.
The moment we docked, there was no time to process the awe. We were immediately escorted down cold, metallic corridors into a crowded briefing room. The air was thick with tension, packed with pilots ranging from scarred, gray-haired veterans to wide-eyed rookies who looked barely old enough to drive.
The commanding officer stepped up to the podium, his voice echoing sharply through the speakers.
"All pilots are to be reassigned to different divisions and issued new mobile suits immediately! A Baoa Qu is the definitive line the line where the Federation will mount their main assault. And right here is where we will crush them into dust! Sieg Zeon!"
"Sieg Zeon!" the crowd roared in unison.
Shortly after, the logistics division handed down our new assignments. The upgrades were substantial. Yuki was assigned a heavy-armored Rick Dom, and Cal was given one as well. Eric received a high-mobility Zaku II Commander Type.
As for me? I was told I'd be staying in my standard, battle-worn Zaku II.
Cal caught sight of the manifest and smirked, throwing an elbow my way. "So, you jealous of our new mobile suits?" he mocked playfully.
"Not at all," I replied, a slow smirk spreading across my face. "In fact, you two are going to help me with something."
Cal's smirk instantly vanished. "No..."
"Yes," I insisted.
"No," he groaned.
"Yes!"
An hour later, I had dragged them down to the deepest corners of the storage hangars. While the base was distracted preparing for the siege, I managed to 'liberate' an assortment of high-grade spare parts: a Gouf Custom right arm complete with its heat wire, a Desert Zaku head outfitted with built-in vulcans, several crates of paint, and various other components.
Cal stared at the pile of stolen military hardware, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, how are we even going to do this?"
"Yeah, we aren't engineers," Yuki added, crossing her arms skeptically.
"I have a few ways, *da ze~*!" I chirped.
With a lot of sweet-talking and a bit of under-the-table negotiating, I managed to convince a few sympathetic Zeon engineers to spend their precious off-duty hours working on my machine. After a few more days of careful scavenging and late-night wrenching, the mobile suit was finally complete.
When the hangar bay lights hummed to life, my new Zaku II stood tall. It was a beautiful, Frankenstein of a machine:
Right Arm: High-mobility Gouf Custom arm with a built-in heat wire.
Head: Desert Zaku head variant with integrated 35mm vulcan pods and upgraded sensory arrays.
Shoulders/Chest: Two L-shaped shields packed with Zaku Bazooka ammunition, with extra armor plates salvaged from tank tracks welded across the cockpit.
Armament: A Heat Hawk stored at the waist, twin Zaku Bazookas mounted to the backpack, twelve micro-rockets strapped to both legs, a heavy Gelgoog shield on the left arm, and a standard-issue Zaku machine gun in hand.
Paint Scheme: A striking, customized trim of deep black, stark white, and vibrant yellow.
"This is amazing! *Da ze~*!" I cheered, spinning around to thank the exhausted but proud engineers, alongside Cal and Yuki.
"Now then, shall we test it out?" a stern voice echoed from the hangar catwalk above.
"Yes, that's righ—" I froze, my voice catching in my throat as I spun around.
Standing there, arms crossed, was Eric.
"Mercy, *da ze*...?" I squeaked out.
I didn't get mercy. I got a massive scolding for keeping him in the dark, right up until the alarms sounded, notifying us that our new battalion assignment was ready.
Moments later, our four-man squad was thrusting through the vacuum of space, leaving A Baoa Qu's docks behind.
"We have been assigned to the Kuspen Battalion," Eric announced over the tactical comms as a massive, modified civilian carrier loomed in our sensors. "Alright, everyone prepare to land."
"Copy that," we replied in unison.
Meanwhile, inside the bridge of the Jotunheim...
Captain Herbert von Kuspen stood with his hands behind his back, staring out into the stars. "Before the new elites arrive..."
"Captain! A communication vessel is approaching!" a bridge officer interrupted loudly. "It's requesting immediate permission to land on our ship!"
"Mhm. Here they come," Kuspen muttered, a confident smirk playing on his lips.
He marched down to the primary deck to greet his promised reinforcement elites. But as the pressurized doors hissed open, the captain stopped dead in his tracks. The soldiers standing in formation before him weren't battle-hardened veterans.
They were children.
"Commanding officer on deck, SALUTE!" a voice shouted. The row of teenagers snapped their hands to their brows.
Kuspen's face contorted in disbelief. He marched right up to the front line, pointing a finger at a young boy. "How old are you?!"
"Seventeen, sir!" the boy shouted back.
"How long is your training?!"
"One hundred and fifty hours, sir!"
Kuspen's jaw tightened. "Have you seen actual combat?!"
The boy flinched, his posture trembling slightly. "N-N-No, sir!"
Kuspen spun around, pointing at another young soldier. "Have *you* seen the enemy?!"
"No, sir!"
Kuspen's voice boomed through the hangar bay, laced with disgust. "You fledglings are the 'elites' that the command center promised?! This is an insult to my honor!"
The captain of the Jotunheim stepped forward, looking equally grim. "Are you going to wage war using kids on a school trip, Kuspen?"
Before the captain could answer, a young soldier stepped out of the ranks, his eyes burning with defiance. "We have all volunteered to fight! We may be inexperienced, but we will do our best, sir!"
Kuspen narrowed his eyes at him. "You! You wish to die at your age?"
"I did not come here to die, sir!" the boy shouted, his voice echoing off the metallic walls. "I came to protect Zeon and my family, sir!"
"What?" Kuspen muttered, taken aback.
"All those who feel the same, step forward!" the young soldier yelled. Without a second of hesitation, every single teenager in the room slammed their boots forward in unison.
Kuspen stared at the boy. "What is your rank and name?"
"Chief Petty Officer Erwin Cadillac, sir!"
Then a female captain sighed, walking towards the kids. "My, my, such honorable words. This is the combat battalion of elites? I am sure they will give us a glorifying..." She paused abruptly, her eyes widening as she recognized a face in the crowd.
"...Sis?" Erwin muttered.
Before the family reunion could spiral, the base intercom cut through the tension.
"Attention: Four mobile suits requesting immediate landing on Dock 3."
Kuspen's smirk returned. He turned on his heel and headed straight toward our landing bay.
As my custom Zaku hissed, releasing its pneumatic pressure, I popped the cockpit hatch and slid down to join my squad. Kuspen was already waiting for us, flanked by his officers.
"I am Captain Herbert von Kuspen," he announced, eyeing our units. "So, you are the elites that high command sent."
"Yes sir, we ar—" Eric began, but I stepped right past him, popping a confident salute.
"We are the Night White Witches!" I declared with a massive smirk.
Eric blinked, sighing heavily. "What she said."
"Mhm... very well," Kuspen replied, giving my wildly customized yellow-and-black Zaku a long, weird look before turning to leave. The moment his back was turned, Eric swiped his hand down on my helmet, scolding me instantly.
It wasn't long before our strategic briefing was delivered.
"The Kuspen Combat Battalion heading toward Granada is to engage and destroy any enemy ships encountered by using a portion of our force," Kuspen ordered, pointing at the tactical map.
The ship's captain frowned. "From the scout reports, isn't it clear that the Federation's primary target is A Baoa Qu?"
"Indeed," Kuspen responded coldly. "That is why there will be a small fleet deployed around Granada to act as a diversion."
Shortly after, in the launch bays, three Oggo mobile pods were being prepped for deployment. I didn't want to risk them getting killed in this skirmish, so I decided to commandeer Cal's Rick Dom instead.
But as I was walking toward the hangar, the entire sector shook violently. The solar array had fired in the distance. Moments later, the alarms blared—two Federation ships had dropped right out of the shadows. I immediately broke into a dead sprint toward the hangar.
Across the void, inside the lead Federation ship, chaos was breaking out.
"What's going on?! There aren't supposed to be any enemies in this sector!" a Federation officer screamed.
"Why the hell should I know?!" his commander roared back. "We were just told to orbit the moon once! Launch the Ball units! Hurry up!"
"Impossible, sir! Half of the pilots are rookies who just arrived!"
"Then they'll just have to learn in battle! Deploy them!"
Back in the *Jotunheim*, the three Oggos were already launching into the black. I bolted into the hangar where Cal's Dom was docked, snatched up a Zaku machine gun, launching without anypermission.
"Captain! On Hangar 3, Lieutenant Marisa is launching in the Dom!" the deck chief yelled over the comms.
"What?!" Kuspen barked, spinning fiercely toward Eric.
I patched into their channel, cracking a grin as the g-force pressed me into my seat. "Don't worry, Captain, I've got them covered, *da ze~*!"
The Dom broke into the vacuum of space, its massive thrusters propelling me directly toward the struggling Oggo units. Ahead, one of the Oggos its weapons system catastrophically malfunctioning as a Federation Ball lined up a killing shot.
"Oh no, you don't!" I yelled.
I slammed the thrusters forward, bridging the gap in an instant. Bringing the Zaku machine gun to bear, I opened fire. A hail of solid rounds chewed through the Ball, detonating its fuel tanks in a silent, brilliant flash of fire.
"All Oggos, form up on me, *da ze~*!" I commanded over the local frequency.
The three rookie pilots quickly fell into formation flanking my Dom. Right in front of us, the remaining two Federation Balls pivoted to face us.
"Surrender now, *da ze~*!" I called out over the open comms.
"Tsk, never! Zeon scum!" the Ball pilot screamed back, unleashing a cannon round.
I pulled the Dom's control sticks, executing a heavy lateral drift to dodge the incoming shell. Before they could fire again, I squeezed the trigger of my machine gun, stitching a line of explosive rounds across both units. They burst into twin expanding spheres of scrap metal.
Back on the ship's bridge, the radio crackled. "All Federation Balls have been destroyed. Zero friendly casualties."
The Jotunheim's crew burst into cheers.
"Good work, *da ze~*," I said, using the Dom's massive mechanical hand to give the Oggos a literal thumbs-up in the vacuum of space.
"Yeah... thank you for saving me," the Oggo pilot with the broken weapon stammered, his voice shaking with relief.
"No worrie—"
My sensory array suddenly shrieked a red alert. My instincts took over. I slammed the Dom's heavy chassis forward, violently shoving the Oggo units out of the way.
ZRAAAK!
A hyper-velocity beam shot tore through the space where we had just been standing, grazing my Zaku machine gun. The weapon instantly overheated and began to critical. I tossed the gun away just a split second before it violently exploded in open space.
"The Salamis-class cruiser from before is quickly approaching from behind!" the comms officer screamed.
The *Jotunheim* veered hard, dodging multiple incoming turrets shots. But before the Federation cruiser could line up a devastating volley, a barrage of heavy anti-ship fire struck it from the darkness, tearing the Federation vessel apart.
"It's reinforcements from Granada!"
"Her Excellency, Kycilia..."
With the diversion fleet securing our flank, we retreated back to A Baoa Qu. Inside the briefing room, a grim-faced technical officer pulled up a massive holographic schematic.
"The MA-05Ad Mobile Armor, 'Big-Rang.' One hundred and thirty-eight meters in height, two hundred and three meters in length," the officer explained. "By hastily modifying and adapting the chassis of a super-sized mobile armor to connect directly to a Bigro unit, the Big Rang functions as a mobile frontline supply station, capable of rearming and repairing mobile pods directly in the heat of battle. Furthermore, it is equipped with a specialized Minovsky flight system..."
"Current engineering Lieutenant Oliver May is inspecting it," another officer chimed in.
The captain stared at the massive unit, his face incredibly grim. "A mobile armor designed to keep Oggos in battle for as long as possible..."
"The order from high command is to defend the E-Field using that mobile armor!" the Commodore shouted angrily, slamming his fist on the table.
"Not again!" the Commodore muttered under his breath, his fury boiling over.
"We are always relegated to the supporting role," the captain said quietly. The Commodore snapped his gaze over, glare filled with absolute rage.
Meanwhile, out in the N-Field, the battle was already starting.
"This is Junkers 32 in the N-Field reporting in," a rookie pilot said over the comms, his voice trembling inside a freshly painted Gelgoog. "All conditions normal. The enemy... they aren't coming at all."
"They will in time," a veteran replied grimly.
Suddenly, the radar screen went completely red. "A-Ahead of us!" the rookie screamed.
A massive wall of Federation tracking rockets illuminated the darkness, raining down upon the defensive line.
"Aghhh!"
The rookie tried to fire his thrusters to dodge, but the sheer volume of the overwhelming missile barrage caught him. The Gelgoog was torn apart in a chain reaction of violent explosions.
"The enemy main force has breached the F-Line and the N-Field!"
"Enemy forces are approaching from the S-Field as well! There are too many of them!"
"Saying there's a lot doesn't help! Give us coordinates!"
Back on the Jotunheim, the alarms were deafening.
"Sir! Emergency transmission from high command! The Kuspen Combat Battalion is ordered to take up combat positions immediately!"
The Commodore stepped forward, his face hardened. "The Federation has breached our primary defensive lines in the N-Field and is establishing a secondary assault in the S-Field. They are storming the gates. Our battalion will defend the N-Field with every ounce of our strength!"
He paused, looking at the data readouts. "However... the numerical disparity between us and the enemy is projected to be six to one. The *Jotunheim* will sneak through the enemy's primary attack waves and deploy the Oggos directly into the fray. We will scatter the Oggos to sew chaos, and consequently, we shall bring the tactical situation back to normal."
The captain stared at him, her voice filled with deep sorrow. "Crossing the N-Field with a vessel like this... and then we are supposed to retreat, leaving these young soldiers alone in the midst of a slaughterhouse? Can this ship even survive a mission like that in the first place?"
"Mhm. And the official Big-Rang test pilot haven't even arrived yet," an analyst added quietly.
"Battle! And battles! Battles are what make Zeon what it is!" the Commodore roared, his hand clenching into a trembling fist. "If the test pilot won't come, then Lieutenant May will pilot it!" He let out a harsh, desperate laugh.
The captain watched the madman for a long moment before turning toward the hangar comms. "In place of the missing test pilot, I shall officially assign Lieutenant Oliver May to be the permanent Big-Rang pilot."
"What?! Sir!" May's voice crackled over the comms, shocked.
"Go, Lieutenant," the captain ordered flatly.
"Sir! The Big-Rang is fully prepped and cleared for launch!" an officer yelled.
"Good," the Commodore muttered. He marched down to the hangar deck, passing his own custom-painted Gelgoog and twenty Oggo units stacked tightly together in the launch racks. "How long until we make contact with the Federation vanguard?"
"About forty minutes, sir."
"Very good." He stopped by a massive observation window, staring out at the gargantuan silhouette of the Big-Rang drifting into position.
Over the command channels, panic was setting in across the entire asteroid.
"The enemy is breaching the front lines from the S-Field as well!" a panicked Zaku II pilot screamed over the radio.
"Prepare for close combat! Come on, move your units!" a veteran Zaku I pilot snapped back, his voice a steady rock amidst the chaos.
"N-Field units, maintain your current defensive status with your lives!" a commanding Gelgoog ordered.
"What did you say? The static is too loud!" A Zaku || pilot yelled back.
"I said, protect it with your life!"
The Zeon forces were being completely overrun in both sectors. The roar of exploding beam rifles and the screech of tearing metal filled the comm channels a terrifying desperation. A ragtag force of mismatched Zeon suits fought tooth and nail against the relentless Federation wall.
"Reinforcements! We have nothing left to fight with!" a Gelgoog pilot screamed. Static was his only reply.
"Someone! Give me ammo, hurry!" a Zaku II pleaded, its empty machine gun clicking dry before a beam shot melted its chest plate.
Nearby, the battered hull of the Dolores, a Zeon carrier, shuddered violently under a concentrated volley of battleship fire. Its internal atmospheric seals failed, its main generator dying. "The Dolores is going down! We can't maintain the N-Field!" a Gelgoog pilot cried out in sheer panic. A split second later, a Federation GM Kai's beam saber plunged directly through his back, melting the cockpit instantly.
Amidst the absolute terror, a frantic voice cut through the air. "Where should we land?!"
On the surface of the asteroid fortress, a squad of Federation GMs slammed onto the rocky terrain. "Landed! I made it!" one of the pilots cheered over their local frequency, her relief palpable. Her squad echoed her joy, believing they had secured a safe zone.
But their celebration lasted only a moment. From behind a jagged ridge of space debris, a lone, battle-damaged Zeon Zaku I emerged. Its single mono-eye flared with a vengeful, crimson light. Before the GMs could even lift their shields, the Zaku unleashed its machine gun. A merciless hail of 105mm rounds ripped through their armor, detonating their thruster packs. One by one, the Federation suits collapsed into scrap metal. The Zaku stood silently over the burning wreckage a grim reaper standing in a desolate wasteland.
Back with the *Jotunheim*, we managed to punch a bloody hole right through the primary Federation line, successfully deploying our remaining Oggos and rescuing wounded pilots from the void.
"Keep firing the signal flares! We are going to recover as many friendly troops as humanly possible!" the ship's captain commanded.
"Sir... a massive friendly fleet is approaching from our rear!" the sensor officer reported.
"What?" Kuspen muttered, leaning over the console. Dozens of Zeon transponders were flashing on the screen. "Reinforcements for the E-Field? No... it can't be." His face contorted with boiling fury. "It looks like they are running away in defeat!"
"About ten minutes ago, we lost all communications with A Baoa Qu's central command," the analyst whispered, trembling.
"Don't tell me...! It's impossible!" Kuspen shouted, his pride shattering.
"An emergency wide-band transmission from the A Baoa Qu defense command center, sir!"
"Read it," the ship's captain ordered coldly.
The officer swallowed hard. "We no longer possess the ability to command. All ships participating in the operation are to immediately cease fighting and act according to their own judgment."
"Argh! This is a cease-fire order?! What is the Commander-in-Chief thinking?!" Kuspen slammed his fist down. "Does this mean the end of the war?! This means we have lost the decisive battle!"
"Unacceptable!"
"The E-Field is still holding up!"
The ship's captain stood up, her voice steady and commanding. "Listen to me. We sailors must judge matters on our own once we sail out, even if we cannot understand the meaning of what goes on in front of us. One thing is for sure: many soldiers' lives can still be saved. It looks like the friendly fleets have started to retreat from the N-Field toward Side 3. The Federation forces must have begun to pursue them. The protective wall we have maintained in the E-Field... this escape route will hold for another thirty minutes at most."
In a fit of desperate rage, Kuspen drew his sidearm, aiming it directly at the captain's chest. "Captain, we don't have time for a discussion. Start preparing my Gelgoog!"
Click.
The cold barrel of another pistol pressed firmly against the side of Kuspen's head.
"You plan to escape and abandon your men? To save yourself?" a female lieutenant asked, her eyes cold as ice.
Kuspen slowly lowered his eyes, his shoulders slumping as he realized what he was doing. "Lieutenant... are you well now?" He slowly holstered his weapon.
"... you should be setting an example. You are the commanding officer after all." she said softly.
Out in the vacuum of the E-Field, the Big-Rang and the remaining Oggos watched as the Zeon fleet began to pull back. A small group of Zeon mobile suits raced toward the evacuating vessels, desperately trying to signal the approaching Federation forces.
"Stop, everyone! There's a cease-fire!" Oliver May shouted over the wide-band frequency from inside the Big-Rang, addressing the swarming GMs and Balls.
A long, heavy silence fell over the open comms. Then, a single Federation GM pilot began to laugh. The sound was sharp, brittle, and dripping with absolute contempt. Soon, other GM and Ball pilots joined in, their mocking laughter echoing through the static.
"Cease-fire?" a GM pilot scoffed, her unit thrusting aggressively toward a defenseless Oggo. She leveled her beam rifle directly at the pod's cockpit. "I don't see any referee here!"
ZAP!
The beam shot sheared cleanly through the Oggo's armor, vaporizing the young pilot inside.
"Wait, stop! Stop! Stop! We were officially issued a cease-fire!" May pleaded, his voice cracking with pure desperation.
"I don't give a damn about a cease-fire!" a Federation GM Kai pilot screamed, her face contorted with burning rage over the comms. "You monsters have burned and killed so many of our comrades!" She pivoted her weapon, fixing her sights directly on the Big-Rang.
"Wait, please, stop! We won't resist!" the Big-Rang crew begged.
"Shut up!" the GM Kai roared, pulling her trigger and detonating another Oggo in a brilliant flash of light.
A GM dived beneath the Big-Rang's blind spot, raising its rifle to blow the core apart. But before it could pull the trigger, a hail of explosive rounds tore the GM to pieces.
"Captain! Lieutenant! Woah!" May gasped, looking at his sensors.
"We are here to save you, da ze~!" I shouted over the comms, my custom black, white, and yellow Zaku II roaring into the battlefield.
"Sorry for making you wait, fledglings!" Kuspen's voice boomed. His custom Gelgoog fired its beam rifle, a single continuous shot piercing right through two Federation Balls. "We are going to hold the E-Field until every single friendly troop escapes!"
"Hahaha! Yuki! Let's survive this!" Cal yelled, his Rick Dom unleashing a devastating shot from its heavy bazooka.
"Stay focused!" Eric commanded. His high-mobility Zaku II boosted seamlessly through the crossfire, dodging incoming beams before snapping out his Heat Hawk, slicing through multiple GMs and Balls in a blur of close-quarters combat.
"Hahaha! My Zaku is the best! Da ze~!" I cheered.
I flipped the safety switches and unleashed all twelve micro-rockets from my Zaku's legs. The missiles snaked through space, blowing apart a cluster of GMs. I immediately grabbed one of the Zaku bazookas from my back, firing heavy explosive rounds into the enemy formation.
Back on the bridge of the Jotunheim, the captain looked down at her hands, her face etched with sorrow. Resting on the console before her were the final mementos of fallen soldiers: three pistols, a single photograph, a necklace, and a small magic wand.
"Leaving these mementos to me... What a bunch of fools," she whispered softly.
"Five minutes until the main fleet escapes!" an officer yelled.
"Agh!" a sailor gasped, pointing at the main tactical monitor.
On the screen, Kuspen's Gelgoog was desperately trying to shield a retreating Oggo from an oncoming swarm, but my Zaku slammed into them, violently pushing both units out of the line of fire.
"Ohh!" the captain gasped, watching the feeds.
"Jotunheim, can you hear me?!" Oliver May's voice screamed over the radio from the cockpit of the heavily damaged Big-Rang. "I am sending you the live images of our last battle! Please record it! Please!"
Suddenly, Eric's unit was completely cut off, surrounded by a dozen GMs firing from all angles. Through the smoke, my sensors picked up a GM lining up a fatal shot directly at his blind spot.
"Boss!" I screamed.
But I was too late. A beam shot pierced cleanly through Eric's cockpit. His Zaku II Commander Type went dark, drifting silently into the debris field.
"Eric!" I screamed in agony.
I slammed my thrusters to the absolute limit, boosting toward his position. A wall of Balls and GMs threw themselves into my path, but I used every single weapon I had left firing my remaining bazooka, throwing my heat hawk, and melting my vulcan barrels to blow a hole straight through them.
As I broke through the smoke, I saw a GM Kai raising its rifle, aiming at Cal's vulnerable rear thrusters. Without thinking, I manually purged all of my heavy weapons, stripping my Zaku of its weight. I ignited my emergency thrusters, throwing my machine directly behind Cal's Dom to take the hit.
I raised my heavy Gelgoog shield to block the incoming plasma.
CRACK!
The beam was too powerful. It melted right through the shield, tearing through my Zaku's left arm. The limb violently exploded, sending a shockwave through my cockpit.
"Marisa!" Cal roared. He spun his Rick Dom around, firing his bazooka point-blank into the GM's chest, destroying it instantly.
"I'm alright! Just keep fighting!" I yelled, teeth clenched against the pain. I activated my head-mounted vulcans, shredding an approaching Ball, but a second Ball managed to return fire, blowing my Zaku's left leg completely off.
"Agh!" The cockpit rocked violently, red warning lights bathing me in a crimson glow.
Through the cracked monitor, I saw a terrifying sight. A Federation GM Kai had bypassed Cal and was lining up a kill-shot on Yuki's disabled unit. Cal threw his Dom forward, intending to use his own body as a shield to protect her.
"No, you don't!"
I slammed the over-boosters, forcing my mangled, one-armed, one-legged Zaku II to its absolute breaking point. I screamed as my machine intercepted the trajectory, throwing itself right in front of Cal's Dom.
The hyper-velocity beam shot struck my Zaku squarely in the chest and right arm, absorbing the catastrophic energy just inches away from my cockpit.
BOOM!
In the distance, the Big-Rang completely detonated,
[Mission complete]
The silence of space returned but multiple mobile suits has survived and returned to the Jotunheim.
Inside the primary hangar bay of the Jotunheim, the surviving crew gathered in solemn silence. The heavy hangar doors hissed open, and two battered Rick Doms floated inside.
Carried carefully in the mechanical hands of Cal mobile suits was the severed, scorched head of a Zaku II its black, white, and yellow paint burned away by beam fire.
Cal's voice crackled softly, filled with deep, heavy sorrow.
"Thank you... Marisa."