"This is…"
Standing on the Archangel's battle-scarred deck, Kira looked at the Orb Navy ships surrounding them as the vessel approached a nearby island.
Just moments ago, those same ships had been firing at the Archangel, yet now—after ZAFT's fleet had withdrawn—the situation seemed more like an escort than capture, as though they were escorting the Archangel to this place.
On the surface, it looked as if they were on guard, but there was no real intent to attack.
"I don't know… probably some kind of military fortress or something."
Roz stepped onto the deck, gazing at the small island not far away.
"After all, given how sensitive the Archangel's status is, there's no way they'd guide it to the main island."
The battle earlier with that so-called "Copy Unit" of cloned soldiers, combined with the "SmartBrain" project from Blue Cosmos, had left Roz feeling mentally tangled.
Fortunately, the state of focus he'd regained before the battle hadn't completely faded yet. He wasn't on the verge of collapse—but still, he needed to come up and feel the sea breeze to clear his head a little.
"…We've arrived in Orb. Roz, you'll be separating from us too, won't you?"
After thinking for a moment, Kira asked the question.
"Yeah. If nothing unexpected happens, I'll take my payment and leave."
Roz turned around, looking at Kira—his pilot suit unzipped halfway, the sea wind blowing through his hair—and his expression grew a bit odd.
"Aren't you guys disembarking here in Orb too?"
"No… I asked Major Natarle just now. We're still considered enlisted personnel, and since we're currently on assignment, we can't retire yet."
Kira sighed, looking somewhat helpless. "If we want to retire now, we'd have to go all the way to the Alaska base."
"That's what I'm saying—you guys got yourselves trapped."
Roz threw an arm around Kira's shoulder and used his other hand to roughly mess up Kira's hair.
"Who told you not to retire on the spot when you rendezvoused with the Eighth Fleet? Now look at you! This is the price of being too young and reckless!"
As the Archangel drew closer to the island, a disguised electric gate suddenly opened, revealing a hidden dock within.
The surrounding Orb Navy ships shifted from an "escort" formation to a "patrol" formation, spreading out to guard the perimeter of the island.
"Alright, nothing else worth seeing."
Roz gave Kira's head a light pat, put on his sunglasses, and started walking toward the hangar.
"If we don't leave now, they might just throw us in the brig for 'spying on Orb's military secrets.'"
-----------------------------------
When Roz arrived at the hangar, Christina was directing the Haros to pack Jesta's equipment into a shipping container.
As for how to transport Jesta out, Roz remembered that in the factory he had purchased here, there was still the vehicle used to carry the Jegan back then. A few years had passed, but it probably hadn't been scrapped yet.
"It's a pity that using the cannon equipment makes it a bit difficult to equip the high-mobility backpack at the same time."
Looking at the cannon equipment that had already been packed into the container, Roz sighed helplessly.
If he had used Jesta's cannon variant during the battle with that group of Copy troops, perhaps the fight wouldn't have been so difficult.
Getting chased around by a bunch of DINNs the entire time, and then having Rau Le Creuset spout incomprehensible nonsense over the loudspeaker—Roz seriously considered destroying that speaker next time.
But where exactly is the DINN's external speaker located…
Roz once again found himself drifting into irrelevant thoughts.
"This is a completely different MS design from the G Project—an independent lineage of its own. It was indeed worth coming here personally."
A woman's voice came from beside Roz, pulling him back from wondering what "concrete mixed with spaghetti" would taste like.
Behind his sunglasses, Roz narrowed his eyes slightly and turned toward the speaker.
The first thing that hit him, however, was the overwhelming impression of "this woman is a married lady." Perhaps it was fortunate she didn't wear that dangerous hairstyle?
"You are?"
The woman who had been examining Jesta carefully turned to Roz and extended her hand.
"Erica Simmons, Chief of Mobile Suit Development at Morgenroete, Inc. You must be the pilot and designer of this mobile suit, according to the report. A pleasure to meet you."
"…Roz Links. What do you want?"
Roz reached out and gave her a polite handshake before letting go.
Although Roz liked mature women like Murrue, as a man of pure affection, he would never have improper thoughts toward a married woman.
"Then, I'll be direct."
As a technician, Erica disliked beating around the bush. "You're a space junk salvager, correct? Morgenroete would like to purchase the technical data and design schematics of this machine. Payment can be in cash or materials."
Straight to a sharp question.
Behind his sunglasses, Roz's eyes narrowed again, though his face remained expressionless.
"Sorry. I refuse."
Without even thinking, Roz waved his hand. "My favorite thing to do is say NO to someone who thinks they're some hot shit."
"…I see. That's understandable, since it's the machine you're currently piloting."
Erica didn't seem disappointed by Roz's rejection—if anything, Jesta had never been her real target.
"In that case… what about the machine known as Cub? Would you be willing to sell the related schematics and technology?"
Erica recalled a centuries-old saying she had once seen online: If you open a window, people will object. But if you plan to tear off the roof, they'll agree to let you open the window.
Just as Roz fell silent, Murrue—who had just finished a meeting after disembarking from the Archangel—entered the hangar.
"Roz, I knew you'd be here."
For some reason, upon seeing Roz in the hangar, Murrue felt a strange mix of emotions.
After fighting together aboard the Archangel for so long, everyone had become comrades. Seeing a comrade leave now, her heart was filled with both regret and well wishes.
"Ah, Murrue."
Roz paused his thoughts and, seeing something in Murrue's hand, suddenly realized what it was.
"Excuse me, please wait a moment," he said to Erica, giving a small nod. "I'll answer you later."
Under Erica's knowing expression, Roz turned toward Murrue.
"Murrue, finished with the meeting?" Roz scratched his head. "So, how's the payment?"
"…I knew you'd ask that."
Murrue sighed, as though she had expected it. "I've already contacted Rear Admiral Halberton. Here's your payment."
She handed Roz a bank card.
"The password is 123456. This is the most I could get for you."
When she had contacted Halberton earlier, her mentor's expression had clearly said, The cabbage I raised grew legs and went looking for pigs, and now the cabbage wants pig feed from me too. But after Murrue's firm reasoning, he had finally approved the payment.
Roz took the card and handed it to the large blue Haro perched on his shoulder.
Before Murrue's eyes, the blue Haro—with dark circles painted around its eyes—opened a card reader where its "mouth" was, extended a mechanical arm from under its wing panels, and inserted the card into the slot.
"Roz… based on the funds in this account and your current savings, we can probably complete the upper body of Unicorn—excluding the propulsion backpack."
The voice came through Roz's earpiece, worn by the big Haro.
"…Thanks, Murrue. You really saved me."
Overjoyed at the news, Roz hugged Murrue—but quickly let go.
"That move just now technically counts as harassment, you know."
Though she said that, Murrue didn't scold him.
For some reason, knowing she had been able to help Roz made her genuinely happy too.
"Sorry, my respected Captain Murrue. Please forgive my moment of excitement."
Roz coughed twice, pretending to look serious.
"Then, let's meet again in the future."
At that, Murrue accepted the reality of their parting, straightened her posture, and gave Roz a crisp military salute.
"Stay alive, Roz."
"Heh, don't worry. I'm not that easy to kill."
Seeing this, Roz hurriedly returned a clumsy salute of his own.
"It's you guys who need to stay alive."
"You know my contact number. If you ever need anything, just call me—Roz, independent space junk salvager, always at your service."
-----------------------------------
After the brief farewell, Murrue left the hangar without looking back.
Even though the Archangel was now entering a repair state, she still had plenty of work to do.
Moreover, rather than wasting time in the hangar talking about unrealistic things, Roz preferred that Murrue return to her duties as the Archangel's captain.
Those who stop moving forward because of parting are merely temporary companions on life's journey. Only those who continue to move forward on their own paths, even after parting ways, are true comrades.
Listening to the data summarized by Big Haro and the shortfall of materials needed to build the new machine, Roz pondered carefully before finally reaching a decision.
As Roz walked toward her, Erica—who had just enjoyed watching the entire scene unfold—looked at him with interest.
"Aren't you going to chase after her?"
Leaning against a nearby crate, Erica's tone carried a teasing note. "The atmosphere between you two just now was so sweet it was almost sickening."
"Trust me, I've been there. If you go after her now and just throw the question straight at her, she might actually say yes."
Beside her, Christina had just finished sealing the equipment containers and now stood there expressionless, staring at Roz.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
Roz glanced at Erica, his composure nearly cracking.
"She has her own life, and I have my own goals. This isn't the time to be talking about that."
As he said that, Roz scratched his head, silently wondering if he should do it next time they met.
Big Haro's analysis wasn't wrong—Murrue really did hit perfectly in Roz's strike zone—but for now, his sense of ambition took priority.
"Fine then. Since you don't want to talk about that, let's get back to our previous topic."
Erica didn't press the issue any further.
"The Cub that appeared in Heliopolis—name your price for its schematics and technology."
Erica's confident attitude made Roz narrow his eyes slightly.
"You seem awfully sure of yourself—like you're convinced I'll sell."
"With Morgenroete's financial power, we can meet most of your conditions. The rest is just negotiation."
What Erica didn't say aloud was that Morgenroete was currently placing great emphasis on MS development. They were practically determined to acquire the design data and technology of the Jegan.
Even though the G Project had already produced prototypes, the Jegan's performance and combat results had deeply impressed Morgenroete.
Hearing Erica speak so boldly, Roz thought carefully for a long moment.
"…I've made up my mind."
After a long silence, Roz finally spoke.
"My choice is—"
..................