"Is this Roz's new mobile suit?" Mu, who had originally been sitting on the Skygrasper ready to sortie, was a little surprised as he looked at Jesta, which had bulked up compared to the Jegan.
"Ah, yes." Murdoch, who was next to him and planning to do another check on the Skygrasper after the battle, nodded to Mu. "Seems like it's called… Jesta."
"Jegan… Jesta… an upgraded model?" Mu removed his helmet and could faintly see Jegan's silhouette in Jesta's form.
"Probably, and look, isn't that the high-mobility backpack Roz used on the Jegan before?" Murdoch looked up, scanning the high-mobility backpack next to Jesta. "Though now it has a few more mechanical arms—it looks more like a grasshopper."
"Hahaha, true." Mu laughed. "I heard that over at ZAFT, the Jegan was called 'Cub' and sometimes insultingly a 'missile porcupine.' Now Roz's mobile suit really has become an animal form."
Meanwhile, inside Jesta's cockpit.
Roz looked at the cockpit he was sitting in, his expression complex.
"Why… does Jesta have a Unicorn cockpit installed?"
"Because you've never used your pharmacological pressure-resistant suit, right?" Blue Haro, sitting on an added mount, wagged the wings on its head. "Your pilot suit is designed to match only the Unicorn cockpit; otherwise, it can't perform at its best. Before, in your high-mobility operations, you've basically just relied on your body to bear the brunt."
Roz naturally recognized which Haro this was—down to the details it was identical to the original, with the same slightly lazy tone and voice, a miniature version of the Blue Big Haro.
"Besides, haven't you completed the prototype NTD system and the psychoframe?" Blue Haro's teal eyes flickered, simulating a blink. "I even reserved space for you to install the psychoframe."
The Jesta cockpit dimmed slightly, a pale-blue image of Jesta's cockpit appeared, and the image began to move, showing how to deploy the armor and install the palm-sized psychoframe units inside the cockpit.
"You're going to be piloting a Unicorn, after all. Take it step by step to adapt, alright?"
"Also, I suggest you pay attention to battle duration—this Jesta still runs on batteries."
With that, Blue Haro seemed to think of something, detached from the mount, and jumped onto Roz's head.
"Hey! Big Haro, what are you doing?" Roz, about to lock the cockpit as usual, was startled by the action.
"Of course, I'm claiming my territory! I'm your support from now on—this cockpit support seat is mine!" Big Haro rolled from Roz's head to his right shoulder and settled there. "As for that little girl named Christina, we'll find her a place once our battleship is built."
"…I refuse that." A familiar voice sounded.
Just as Big Haro declared Christina a loser, the Jesta cockpit door opened.
Christina, who should have been in the dorm supervising the prototype psychoframe and NTD system, slipped into the cockpit.
"Christina?! What are you doing here?" Roz shivered a little at the sight of the girl's resentful face, holding the red Haro she controlled.
"If I don't come, you'd be stolen by the cat, right?" Christina glanced at Roz, then turned her glare toward Big Haro. "I don't accept your proposal."
Please forgive Roz: in his previous life he had been single until death. Confronted with this situation, his mind went blank.
What should he do? Explain? Draw boundaries? Or immediately prostrate and shout "sorry"?
The red Haro leaped from Christina's arms, knocking Big Haro off Roz's shoulder.
"Oh… interesting." Big Haro wasn't angry at Christina's opposition. Instead, using the momentum, it leapt onto the top of the cockpit.
Its teal eyes flickered slightly, analyzing a bit.
"Roz, taking action against the girl you treat like a daughter—is this your fetish?" Big Haro rolled on top of the cockpit. "I thought you preferred mature women like Murrue… Did the Courtyard's intel get it wrong?"
"What are you talking about!" Roz panicked and turned toward the communications button.
Luckily, the comms were off, and the speaker was silent. Otherwise, Roz would have had even more dark history recorded by Mu in his little notebook.
Don't let that old man tease you with blackmail!
"Why are you suddenly targeting me?" Roz exhaled slightly, feeling his scalp tingle.
"The discussion about this support seat is between me and this girl—we'll handle it privately." Big Haro extended two mechanical claws from under its wings, grasping the top of the cockpit. "But now, she and I both have one thing we want to know."
With the claws extending, Big Haro eventually hung upside down in midair, teal eyes staring at Roz.
"Tell me, Roz, do you like the big or the small?"
Roz felt sweat pouring from his head like a faucet had been turned on.
A life-or-death question—how could he resist?
After three seconds of thought, and seeing Christina begin to stare at him too,
"I like weapons with sufficient firepower." Roz's mouth suddenly blurted out an answer seemingly unrelated to the question. "Whether it's the Unicorn's beam magnum or an Hyper Bazooka, I like them all."
This off-topic answer carried a certain chaotic beauty, like mixing concrete with Italian pasta.
Inside the cockpit, there was a deathly silence. Even Big Haro, which had been wagging its wings, stopped moving.
Just as Roz wondered whether he had somehow passed through this near-death ordeal,
"…Different from my answer in some ways, but overall, the files the Courtyard gave me are fine." Big Haro's mechanical arms slowly retracted and returned to the top of the cockpit.
"Giving an answer like that—truly worthy of an NT (newtype)."
"Alright, next is the meeting. Go find your Captain Murrue first."
Saying this, Big Haro extended a mechanical claw, grabbed the back of Roz's collar, and escorted him out of the cockpit.
Fortunately, after a battle, everyone in the Hangar was busy and didn't see Roz's earlier state.
Roz quickly straightened his clothes, coughed lightly, and tried to calm his embarrassment.
Behind him, Jesta's cockpit was closed.
For some reason, Roz couldn't shake the feeling that an inexplicably oppressive aura was emanating from inside Jesta's cockpit.
-----------------------------------
"Eh? Roz?" Seeing Roz wandering aimlessly in the corridor, Murrue, who had just put away her handgun, looked a little surprised.
"Aren't you supposed to be testing that new mobile suit?"
"Ah? You mean Jesta?" Roz, whose mind had been blank, had somehow wandered here. "Christina is helping me install some system plugins, so I'm just walking around since I have nothing to do."
It was possible a fight had already broken out inside the cockpit.
"I see…" Murrue was silent for a moment. "The Archangel just received an invitation from a regional guerrilla organization. They hope we can have a talk with them."
"Guerrilla?" Hearing that term, Roz was a little surprised.
"Yes. For some reason, within the area occupied by the Desert Tiger, Andrew Waltfeld, there is still a resistance organization." Murrue herself found this a bit odd.
"Normally, ZAFT would try to completely destroy any resistance to maintain absolute control over the occupied area."
"That Tiger… must have confidence in his troops and strategy," Roz said after thinking for a moment. "After all, you can't push people too hard. Even rabbits will bite when cornered."
"Probably… The negotiations are about to start. Are you coming with us?"
"…Alright. Let's go see what kind of group these guerrillas are."
Roz pondered for a moment, deciding to go along.
Hopefully Big Haro and Christina had already finished.
-----------------------------------
"DaCosta here."
On ZAFT's land battleship, the Lesseps.
A young man named DaCosta held a document and knocked on the office door.
The uncle who had worn a trench coat before was now dressed in a ZAFT uniform, with bags of coffee beans arranged on the desk.
At this moment, the uncle, named Andrew, was focused on brewing a pot of coffee.
"Captain Andrew, can't we get some fresh air?" The rich smell of coffee made the young man uncomfortable, and he instinctively covered his nose.
"This is the aroma created by my carefully brewed coffee," Andrew said proudly. "And you came here just to say that?"
"No, not at all." Turning to the main matter, DaCosta became serious. "This is a document sent from Gibraltar Base."
With that, DaCosta handed the document to Andrew.
"Let me see… what is this?" Andrew poured the freshly brewed coffee into a cup and picked up the document DaCosta handed him with his left hand.
After taking a sip of coffee and seeing the text in the report, Andrew frowned slightly.
For some reason, after reading the message, he felt that even the coffee he had carefully brewed didn't taste good anymore.
"…What's going on at home?"
Andrew set down the coffee he had only sipped and rubbed his temples.
"Can we refuse?"
"Right now, yes. But later… who knows," DaCosta shook his head, expression complicated.
"Tch…" Andrew clicked his tongue and sighed.
"Troublesome times…"
Andrew put down the document, and the office fell silent.
On the spread-out file on the desk, one name was highlighted in red and bold:"CopySoldier"
Inside were several photos of GINNs painted in white.
...................