"Anyway, when you set sail, if the mobile suit hasn't arrived yet, I'll get off here." In the hangar, Roz stood up. "Once I receive the suit, I'll come find you."
"So, you're planning to use this thing as a vehicle?" Murrue stared at the machine Roz had cobbled together, a bit dumbfounded.
It was a single-wheel motorcycle, something that might appear in a game or movie. Roz had taken apart the remaining cockpit, grabbed a wrench, and with the leftover materials, assembled this contraption.
He had used the removed linear cockpit for the seat, giving the overall shape a resemblance to something called a "D-wheel." Roz had also carved several mysterious grooves into one of the side handles.
The only downside: it couldn't project duel monsters for high-speed dueling.
"Yeah, not trashy enough yet?" Roz scratched his head while spraying paint for a desert camouflage with his other hand. "I get it. It looks too new. I'll age it a bit and it'll be fine."
Saying that, Roz gave Murrue a thumbs-up with the hand he had just used to scratch his head.
"Don't worry, it'll hold up."
"Alright then…" Murrue covered her head, trying to calm the shock she'd just received.
As a professional technical soldier, she was stunned by Roz's green-skinned behavior of handcrafting a motorcycle, but upon closer inspection, the machine could function. At least, it had everything a motorcycle should have.
As for Christina, she wasn't there. Under Roz's instructions, she was staying in the dorm, strictly guarding the prototype psychoframe and the prototype NTD system.
When Christina left, for some reason, Roz felt her gaze was a bit resentful.
"Before we set sail, Roz, can you help on the bridge?" Murrue thought for a moment before speaking. "Since you don't have a mobile suit and haven't trained on fighter craft, you can be a fire control operator for now."
"Heh! You've come to the right person." Roz put on a gas mask and tossed one to Murrue. "I'm known as the best rocket launcher user in history."
"Once I finish painting this D-wheel, I'll show you my shooting skills!" Roz said, pressing the button on the spray can aimed at the single-wheel motorcycle he'd named "D-wheel."
Perhaps due to the distance and atmosphere between the two, Murrue felt a little flustered and blushed—but the gas mask hid it.
Roz, fully focused on painting his creation, didn't notice Murrue's expression at all.
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"That must be the Earth military's new warship, the Archangel?" On a dune a long distance from the Archangel, a man in a trench coat held a cup of coffee and looked through binoculars at the docked ship.
"Sleeping in our occupied territory? Are they really that relaxed?" A young man beside him asked, confused.
"Probably resting and recuperating. They just landed on Earth, and all the mobile suits still need adjustment." The older man put down the binoculars. "Creuset's report said there are two MS on board. One piloted by an ace has been destroyed, but they didn't say if the ace is dead."
"If that ace isn't dead, even just manning the Archangel's turrets could pressure us quite a bit."
Saying that, the trench-coat man sipped his coffee and looked at the cup with a surprised expression.
"Wow, this coffee tastes pretty good."
Then he slid down the hill in style, letting his slightly clumsy aide follow behind.
"Time to fight. Hopefully, we'll write fewer casualty reports this time."
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Space, at the edge of the atmosphere.
A rocket, whose origin was unknown, began to break apart upon entering the atmosphere.
Two sections containing some kind of cargo made constant adjustments, rapidly descending in a certain direction, while the other sections were destroyed by the heat.
In one of these sections, a deep blue mobile suit that had been secured inside was activated. In the unmanned cockpit, the suit began to display routine self-check data.
Accompanied by the flames caused by atmospheric friction and the constant vibrations.
On the reinforced mounting in the cockpit, a blue Haro lit up its teal eyes.
The mobile suit picked up the weapon at hand, and the head monitor glowed red.
-----------------------------------
"Bad luck, bad luck, bad luck!" Roz ran into the bridge and nodded at the anxious Murrue.
"Roz, for now, follow Major Natarle's orders," Murrue said, seeing Roz arrive at the bridge, then turned to observe the ongoing battle.
"Give me control of a turret, any one will do." Roz quickly sat in an empty seat and casually pulled out the nearby manual, flipping it open.
Perhaps because these guys were all genius crew? The manual, despite its age, looked as good as new.
Roz quickly scanned the dozen or so pages of contents, flipped to the section he wanted, and began reading rapidly.
"Turn, charge, switch mode, fire… I've got it all," Roz said, gripping the two control sticks, his eyes on the console panels.
"Roz, control of one of the Gottfried has been transferred to you," Natarle said while commanding other gunners; the anti-air and missile batteries hadn't stopped firing.
"Ten BuCUE… that's quite a number," Roz said, pressing a few buttons to switch from volley to continuous fire and activated scatter mode.
"Strike Gundam, sortie!"
With Miriallia speaking over the comms, Kira piloted the Strike Gundam off the launch deck, setting foot on Earth for the first time in an MS.
But the gravity of Earth soon taught him a lesson; Strike Gundam's ankles sank into the sand.
Roz picked a target casually, using a lower-energy mode, and fired a three-shot burst at a BuCUE.
One BuCUE dodged the first shot but hadn't adjusted its posture when the second scatter blast hit. The BuCUE could only use short bursts from its thrusters, attempting to evade.
On the third dodge, the scatter beam washed over it directly.
"Boom…"
Hearing the BuCUE explode, the trenchcoat-clad man who had been sipping coffee shook his head in resignation.
"Alright, not sure if the pilot survived, but they've got a good gunner."
"Wait… something's falling from the sky?"
While the trenchcoat man analyzed data collected from the battle, his aide looked up, seeing something.
"What?" The trenchcoat man raised his binoculars, spotting the two rocket cargo sections falling from the sky.
On the Archangel, Murrue and the others also noticed the descending rocket cargo sections.
"Target Two is falling from the sky, estimated destination… our current location?!" The radar operator's tone was odd as the Archangel was under attack by BuCUEs, detecting what seemed like a space-based weapon strike.
Roz's expression was also peculiar.
"Delivery arrived, don't forget to rate it well!" The comms displayed these words, instantly letting Roz understand what was inside.
"Wait… one of the signals split off… an unknown MS?"
High above, inside one of the rocket cargo sections containing a mobile suit.
The cargo section, slightly melted from atmospheric friction, allowed a glimpse outside through the torn surface; sparks from the malfunctioning electronics hit the MS armor.
The blue Haro flapped its head wings twice, and the deep blue mobile suit approached the damaged section. Then, in the trenchcoat man's magnified view, an MS hand extended from the torn section, gripping the external armor nearby.
The immense force even deformed parts of the battered rocket cargo exterior.
A mobile suit then leapt from the cargo section, its crimson visor catching the trenchcoat man's attention.
The suit raised a beam rifle, firing a single shot midair at a BuCUE.
The BuCUE collided directly with the blue-purple beam and exploded into pieces.
"Clang…"
As the unknown mobile suit landed steadily in the desert, everyone could clearly see its form.
"Cub (Jegan)?" Both the trenchcoat man and the Archangel crew couldn't help but exclaim.
A deep blue, predominantly gray-toned mobile suit appeared, its head monitor in the familiar sunglasses shape, but now with a red visor; the suit looked sturdier.
"No, it's bulkier than the Cub," the trenchcoat man squinted, serious. "Let a BuCUE test that new Cub to gauge its strength."
A BuCUE extended its beam saber from the head, trying to sneak-attack while the MS had its back turned.
The "Jegan" spun around, grabbed the BuCUE by the chin, and executed a side-shoulder throw.
The BuCUE was slammed to the ground, and "Jegan" raised the beam rifle, firing two shots at the cockpit.
Several helicopters appeared near "Jegan," launching missiles.
"Jegan" used its attitude control thrusters for short bursts, elegantly dodging the missiles.
Switching the beam rifle to rapid-fire, "Jegan" accurately swept the helicopters in the sky, detonating them on the spot.
"…Retreat." After observing for a while, the trenchcoat man sighed. "Data collection isn't complete, but it's enough. Assemble the remnants, retreat to base."
He gave a serious look at "Jegan" before turning to leave.
-----------------------------------
Finally, the ZAFT forces had retreated.
At this time, night had just passed, and the sun was slowly rising.
In the crimson sunrise, "Jegan" dragged a relatively intact rocket cargo section and, under Kira's watchful eyes, approached the Archangel.
Roz walked onto the central deck of the Archangel, observing the scene.
"Jegan" set down the rocket cargo section, activated the thruster pack on its back, and steadily stepped onto the Archangel's central deck.
"…Jesta."
Roz lifted his head and slowly spoke the true name of the "Jegan" before him.
Jegan lowered its head, and beneath the red visor, its camera focused on Roz. The man and the machine stared at each other.
After about a minute or two, just when everyone thought the situation had reached a stalemate, Jesta smoothly performed a single-knee kneel and opened the cockpit door for Roz.
Jesta extended its hand toward Roz, seemingly inviting him to enter the cockpit.
"Phew…" Roz took a deep breath and jumped onto Jesta's hand.
With the movement of the machine's arm, Roz was brought to the cockpit door.
Inside, the cockpit appeared almost completely dark, with only a faint light shining.
Roz stepped forward and entered Jesta's cockpit.
Just as he had when he first piloted the Jegan A-type.
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