Chapitre 17: Chapter 15
(P.O.V) Reinhard
C.E. 70 June 8
As I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. My first thought was, "Oh, Goddammit, not again! Really?!" I sighed heavily, swinging my legs off the bed and planting my feet on the floor.
Waking up in an unfamiliar room without a clue as to how I got there was becoming increasingly frustrating. I glanced around the space and noticed a faint smell of alcohol wafting from my clothes, mixed with the lingering scent of perfume. "I definitely wasn't alone." I muttered, my frown deepening. The memories of the night started to seep back, but everything after I began drinking with Neil was a hazy blur.
"What in the hell did I drink last night that knocked me out like this?" I asked aloud. I could count on one hand the number of times I had actually managed to get drunk. My body was practically trained to handle toxins—thanks to my previous experiences, I had to consume at least three times the amount that would get a normal person tipsy.
This room had the distinct vibe of a bedroom, and with its lack of décor, I deduced it was a hotel room. Nothing seemed out of place as I inspected the surroundings. I even checked for any hidden cameras or listening devices, but I found nothing. My belongings—my wallet, which contained my fake ID, and my PDA—were untouched, aside from the faint scent of a woman's perfume clinging to my clothes.
It seemed wiser to wait for more clarity about the night before tackling any mysteries. I decided to check the adjacent bathroom first. Four towels lay scattered on the floor, and it was evident that the shower had been used recently. After leaving the bathroom, my gaze fell upon a door on the opposite side of the room. When I opened it, my heart sank at the sight of a pile of toys that looked far from child-friendly. I quickly shut the door, shaking my head in disbelief.
I moved on to the mini-fridge, opening it to find a selection of alcoholic beverages and bottles of massage oils—along with lubricants that clearly weren't meant for any sort of engine. I chuckled lightly, grabbing a can of beer and downing it in one go. Tossing the empty can in the trash, I noticed several small pieces of rubber nestled among the garbage, alongside a few packs of cigarettes perched on the shelf.
It had been a while since I last smoked, mostly due to concerns about cancer. But with medical technology having advanced so much that a cure for cancer was finally developed—thanks to a coordinator who infamously stated, "Fuck cancer" when asked about his motivation—I felt a strong urge to indulge in my old habit given my current predicament.
I seized a pack, lit a cigarette, and took a deep draw, exhaling slowly. The familiar rush of nicotine washed over me, calming my rattled nerves like it had done so many times before. "That's better." I remarked to myself.
I sank onto the bed, but as I laid back, I felt something soft beneath me. Curiosity piqued, I pulled back the blanket and discovered a pair of panties. My expression remained blank as I processed everything I had encountered since waking up. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkkkk!" I groaned, rubbing my forehead in disbelief.
It didn't take a genius to piece it all together. Somehow, I had managed to get so drunk that I couldn't remember my actions from the previous night, and it appeared I had brought a woman back to this love hotel. The realization left me speechless. How had I even pulled that off? My experience in that area was nonexistent. Sure, I had a girlfriend once in college and wanted to know what romance felt like. Unfortunately, that relationship had devolved into endless arguments, culminating in her cheating on me with some rich punk who provoked me after I discovered the betrayal. I ended up knocking him out, sending him to the hospital—if memory served me right, his last name was Corner.
Back to the matter at hand, it seemed that the woman I had brought back had woken up before me and left in a hurry—perhaps she had forgotten her underwear or intentionally left it behind.
With a sigh, I reached for my PDA and noticed a message from Neil asking if I had made it home. I typed a quick response, telling him to start preparing to leave. We no longer had reasons to stick around since our main objective was complete. I was eager to return to Orb to finish working on the Ptolemaios and Neil's Gundam, but first, there were still a few loose ends to tie up.
I tossed the abandoned panties into the trash, got dressed, and took one last glance at the room deciding to forget what happened before stepping out, a mix of confusion and embarrassment coursing through me.
-------------------INFINITE SKIES-------------------
Heliopolis, Morgenröte Branch Facility
After arriving at the facility, I made my way to the workspace I had been assigned and logged into the system. I began to wrap up the development of the operating system (OS). Honestly, creating this OS was proving to be more complicated than the one I had designed back on Orb not because of the it was difficult to make no it was because it difficult just to make the basic OS meaning it wouldn't function at the same level as the one I had made back on Orb but it was something I had to do since I couldn't simply hand over a complete OS to the Atlantic Federation.
As I worked on the OS, I contemplated the plans for the new ship they were developing, along with the mobile suits. It was impressive, named the Archangel after its class designation. Not only would it be able to carry eight mobile weapons, but it was also armed to the teeth. I knew I would need to slightly revise some of the Ptolemaios's armaments to ensure it was superior to the Archangel in terms of battlefield adaptability. But deep down, I felt confident that the Ptolemaios wouldn't lose to it; I would make sure of that.
Once I finished the base OS, my plan to leave Heliopolis could begin. The plan was brilliant in its simplicity and revolved around just two steps. Step 1: Fake my death. Step 2: Escape Heliopolis in a ship hidden in a secret dock that would eventually be used for the Archangel, but which currently sat empty—or so the personnel thought, assuming it was still under construction.
Still, I felt a twinge of guilt about not being able to tell Mark, who had become something of a close friend, about my departure. But it was probably for the best. Suddenly, last night's incident popped back into my mind for some reason, but I quickly shook my head to dismiss it.
"Stop thinking about it—there's no meaning in a one-night stand… Was it a one-night stand?" I whispered to myself, feeling frustrated. My hazy memory from last night was confusing, and I had no idea what had really happened. "Well, even if it wasn't, there's nothing I can do now."
(P.O.V) Mark Spencer
Looking at the operating system Nathaniel had managed to create, I was astonished that he achieved what we had been slaving over since the beginning of the project with relative ease since his arrival. When I first heard that HQ would be sending someone to assist with the OS, I felt annoyed. We were some of the best and brightest working for Morgenröte; if we hadn't succeeded, why did they think some random programmer who appeared out of nowhere could accomplish what we could not?
So, when I was informed that he had arrived, I went to meet him in person, eager to assess his capabilities. However, when I first saw him, I instinctively abandoned my plan to test him. The moment his gaze landed on me, I felt as though I was standing in front of a predator who could end me at any moment. I must have imagined it because, just as quickly as I had that thought, it vanished from my mind.
Still a bit shaken, I introduced myself to Nathaniel and gave him a tour of the facility before showing him to his workspace when he asked where he would be working. After that, we engaged in occasional discussions, mostly about the specifications for the Astray prototypes and the Atlantic Federation's projects. During these talks, I discovered that not only was he a skilled programmer, but he was also a talented engineer. When I asked if he had worked on the mass-produced Astray currently in development back on Orb, he admitted that he worked under the new chief engineer who had recently been hired by Morgenröte. This engineer was assisting the other chief engineer, Erica Simmons.
I was surprised; I had no idea there was a chief engineer in place. From what Nathaniel told me, this new chief seemed to have complete autonomy over his work. I wondered what kind of projects that stubborn bastard, Koto, had approved for him to receive such freedom. Maybe the new chief had some connection with government higher-ups, but that didn't matter to me unless he decided to come to Heliopolis.
Then Nathaniel asked about the reason we weren't planning to install phase shift armor on the Astray, which made me feel frustrated. I explained that we hadn't been able to acquire the process for creating phase shift armor from the Atlantic Federation—they kept it under lock and key along with their other technologies they were unwilling to share. To compensate for the lack of phase shift armor, we had developed a lightweight foaming metal for the armor.
Over time, our discussions about the Astray project became more frequent, and we eventually became friends due to our shared interests in mobile suits. I even asked his opinion on the feasibility of creating a beam bazooka, which for some reason made him laugh.
As for the OS, I still couldn't believe the progress Nathaniel had made in just a month since his arrival. This led me to ask if he was also a fellow coordinator. I had my suspicions based on his flawless appearance, which seemed too perfect to be natural. However, he insisted he wasn't a coordinator, a statement I had difficulty believing. But if Nathaniel kept working at this pace, we might be able to roll out the prototypes earlier than anticipated.
Suddenly, I heard the fire alarm blaring throughout the facility. "What the hell happened?" I asked aloud as I exited my office and headed toward the hangars.
When I arrived, I saw everyone scrambling to put out a fire that appeared to have originated from several barrels of chemical reagents used in the construction of the mobile suit batteries. I grabbed the shoulder of an engineer nearby. "What happened?" I asked, my concern rising as I wondered if anyone had been hurt.
The engineer looked at me with a panicked expression. "The reinforced wire that was transporting the barrels snapped, causing them to fall, which led to a violent reaction. They exploded next to the programmer's work area. So far, we have one person unaccounted for; the rest of the programmers were having lunch when it happened." he explained hurriedly.
Hearing his words, I felt a pit growing in my stomach. "Who is the programmer that's still unaccounted for?" I asked reluctantly.
The engineer hesitated for a moment, as if trying to recall the name. "I think it was the recent arrival from HQ—Nathaniel Evans."
Goddammit! "I want that fire extinguished as quickly as possible! Search every single floor and make sure Nathaniel isn't somewhere else in the facility. Do you understand?" I yelled the last part, watching him nod before he dashed off.
Eventually, we managed to extinguish the fire, and I quickly put on a gas mask to avoid inhaling any toxic fumes before heading toward the programmer area that had been devastated by the explosion. I began searching, desperate to find out if Nathaniel had been caught in the blast.
After searching for what felt like an eternity, I stumbled upon a corpse that had been burned beyond recognition. Reluctantly, I searched the body for any form of identification but found nothing. Sighing, I looked at the charred remains with a heavy heart. The fact that one of my colleagues had died weighed heavily on me, but I hoped this hadn't been Nathaniel. Suddenly, I spotted an ID card tucked beneath some rubble. I picked it up and froze.
"Fuck." I bit my lip as I read the name on the ID. "Nathaniel Evans."
(P.O.V) Neil Dylandy
After I received Reinhard's message, I quickly set about destroying any evidence of the surveillance I had conducted, from notes to recordings. Once everything was dealt with, I exited my apartment in the middle of the night and walked until I reached a parking lot, where I stole a car and drove off toward the secret dock.
When I arrived at the dock's entrance, the lack of security caught my attention, and I surmised that the defense forces of Heliopolis had followed the commands sent by Orb. Everything had been planned well before we arrived in Heliopolis.
"Although I feel like we overprepared for our exit plan," I muttered, parking the car on the side of the street before heading toward the entrance and inputting the code to unlock the door.
I descended to the dock and spotted an outdated cargo ship that had been decommissioned but was now retrofitted for travel again. Entering through the cargo bay, I saw the Fafnir, which Reinhard had stored inside the ship before it was brought into the dock by an intelligence officer stationed in Heliopolis.
As I reached the bridge, I noted that it had been modified to allow a crew of two to pilot the ship without difficulties. "We really overprepared for this," I said again, wondering why we couldn't simply leave the same way we came in. Then I remembered that Reinhard needed to fake his death as an excuse to avoid continuing work on the OS. "I told him there should be an easier way to get out of it, but he was set on faking his death. 'This way, it's guaranteed I won't have to work on the OS' he said! Ugh." I sighed before turning on the ship and running through the pre-departure checks.
Oh well, at least this mission had been fun and a bit bizarre. I seriously hadn't expected such a large portion of the Atlantic Federation team to be cheating on their partners. Despite that, nothing particularly interesting happened, except for watching Reinhard down five bottles of vodka before finally getting drunk, which honestly scared me. It only takes me half a bottle to feel it but seeing him take shot after shot was equally frightening and amazing.
The last thing I remembered from last night was that before I passed out, Reinhard mentioned he had something to do before leaving. The owner of the bar was kind enough to let me sleep until I sobered up enough to go home, for which I gave him a rather large tip for the trouble we caused. However, I had no idea what happened to Reinhard after he left. I tried calling him, but all my calls went to voicemail. Thanks to my headache, I needed to rest and woke up when Reinhard called me back. I wondered what had happened to him that made him sound so anxious when he called.
Looking through the main panel, everything seemed to be ready, so all I had to do now was wait for Reinhard.
-------------------INFINITE SKIES-------------------
Space
It had been ten days since we left Heliopolis, and we were already heading towards the Earth. The trip so far had been calm, and both Reinhard and I had been taking turns piloting the ship, even though it was equipped with autopilot. It was always better to have someone at the helm, ensuring we weren't caught off guard by a random ship.
Currently, it was my turn to pilot, as Reinhard had been at the controls for almost fifteen hours straight. This was something he often did, even though we had agreed to limit our shifts to twelve hours each, allowing us to rest in case we were attacked and needed to deploy the Fafnir. While my expertise lay in long-range combat, I had no trouble piloting the Fafnir and was pleasantly surprised by how responsive the Gundam was.
Although I preferred the Dynames due to its design being tailored to my combat style, the Fafnir truly stood out. I could hardly believe it was built over two hundred years before the 0 Gundam; it felt about five times more responsive than the Dynames. Reinhard attributed this superior responsiveness to the Gundam Frame, which apparently hadn't been used in the creation of future Gundams due to the complex process required for repairs if they were ever damaged.
This made me excited about the new Gundam Reinhard was developing. If it utilized the same inner frame as the Fafnir, I had no doubt it would be at the same level. With Celestial Being technology on top of that, it would likely surpass the Dynames in terms of combat specs. I still needed to inform Reinhard about any specific armaments I wanted to add to the Gundam; I should probably ask for the cockpit to be reinforced—after all, I didn't want to lose my eye again.
Suddenly, something appeared on the radar. I used the auxiliary monitor to zoom in on its location. "Shit! It's a ZAFT vessel!" I exclaimed, immediately using the comm system to contact Reinhard, who was in the cargo bay reviewing information about the G-project. "Reinhard, we have a vessel approaching!"
"Understood; the Fafnir is ready to deploy if we're attacked." Reinhard replied over the comm.
As the ZAFT vessel approached a certain distance, I saw they were hailing us over the comms. "Unidentified vessel, this is the Gwyn. We demand you immediately identify your affiliation. Failure to do so will result in us assuming you belong to the EA." said a gruff voice over the comm.
Not the worst start at least; at least they hadn't attacked and were asking questions first, though I didn't appreciate the threat. "Gwyn, this is the Block, a cargo transport ship belonging to the Orb Union, which is a neutral nation," I said, emphasizing "neutral nation."
"If you are truly an Orb vessel, then why are there no identification symbols on the hull of your ship? From my point of view, you look suspiciously like a band of marauders who have been frequently attacking ZAFT supply vessels. So I ask again—what's your affiliation?" The voice dripped with suspicion.
That wasn't good. Since when were there marauders in space? Wait, was the Earth Alliance using guerrilla tactics against ZAFT by targeting their supply lines? "I repeat, this is a cargo transport ship that was recently recommissioned. We left Heliopolis on an emergency assignment, so we didn't have the opportunity to add any designations to the hull." I quickly made up a story and cursed internally over the fact that the hull of the ship was completely white since they rushed the preparations for space travel.
The comms fell silent for a moment, and I was on edge, my hand hovering over the button to connect with Reinhard in case of an emergency. "Come on, buy it," I said aloud while biting my lip. But it appeared Murphy's Law was in full effect, because the ZAFT vessel launched its mobile suits. "Fuck," I muttered before connecting to the Fafnir via comms. "Reinhard, heads up—mobile suits incoming." I opened the cargo bay hatch beneath the ship, hearing a final message from the ZAFT vessel.
"If you think we're fools, you have another thing coming. It's obvious you're some sort of black ops unit belonging to the Earth Alliance, but in case you are truly unaffiliated with the EA and genuinely an Orb vessel, please surrender so we may inspect your ship." The voice delivered one last command.
The captain seemed to think we belonged to the Earth Alliance but simultaneously gave us a chance to surrender if we truly belonged to Orb. It was a smart move; either way, he wouldn't be blamed if we turned out to be from Orb, as he could simply report that due to our vessel's suspicious appearance, he felt compelled to investigate. "Reinhard, did you hear what he said?" I asked over the comm.
"Yeah, I heard. The captain seems to have the decency to give us a chance to resolve this peacefully. But sadly, we don't have that option; we can't allow ZAFT to get their hands on the Fafnir." he replied. "Well, I'll try not to kill anyone, so come up with something to explain the Fafnir's existence while not revealing our affiliation with Orb."
I racked my brain for a plausible explanation that wouldn't expose our ties to Orb when suddenly a thought struck me, and I smiled. "It seems this timeline could use a version of Celestial Being."
(P.O.V) Reinhard
C.E. 70, June 18
Space, CB-A-001-Gundam Fafnir
Well, I finally got the fight I wanted. "I should learn to keep my goddamn mouth shut," I muttered, clicking my tongue in annoyance as my heart raced with excitement.
Exiting the cargo bay, I floated away from the ship and accelerated toward the ZAFT mobile suits. According to the EA's intel on ZAFT mobile weapons, these six mobile suits were ZGMF-1017 GINN, although one appeared to be customized—its paint job a striking mix of black with neon green accents, standing out from the rest. If I had to guess, the pilot of that GINN was either an ace or an elite. "How exciting." I said, a smile forming on my face.
They seemed to have quickly detected my approach, as they started firing their weapons at me. I performed evasive maneuvers, dodging bullets and missiles. Each GINN had a different loadout, but all seemed to carry a physical sword attached to their waist. Deciding to test their responsiveness, I accelerated even further and quickly appeared behind them while they were still looking ahead.
"They have somewhat slow response times." It took them a second to react after I passed, and that second was extremely important—it could mean life or death on the battlefield. Since they lacked beam weapons, they relied on conventional ammunition, unlike the Fafnir. "I had my fun." I drew my beam saber, swiftly cutting off the head and limbs of a GINN that attempted to draw its sword, leaving the torso intact with the pilot still inside. "That's one."
The remaining GINNs quickly scattered while firing at me, and I dodged their fire like a raven. I repeated my earlier tactic, taking down two more GINNs in a similar fashion. This was probably the best way to non-lethally incapacitate my opponents. "Three."
The last three continued to fire at me, and I allowed a few bullets to hit my armor, wanting to test its durability. The result? They hadn't even scratched it. "So, their bullets can't damage E-Carbon, much less the inner frame itself." I noted, chasing a GINN that seemed to have panicked and aimed its rifle at the cargo ship. Knowing I couldn't reach it in time, I quickly drew my rifle and shot it, destroying its weapon before taking out its head and limbs in swift succession.
Suddenly, alarms blared, and I noticed two GINNs, one above and one below me. The one above was preparing a downward slash with its blade while the one below fired its rifle at me.
Recognizing the greater threat, I raised my shield to block the blade while letting go of my rifle. I grabbed the GN knife stored on my lower back and cleanly severed one of its arms before kicking the GINN away, creating a bit of distance. I quickly followed up by cutting off its remaining limbs before storing the knife back and turning my attention to the last GINN—the one with the custom paint job.
Drawing my saber, I accelerated toward it and attempted to decapitate the machine. However, I noticed it had suddenly vanished. Feeling a surge of danger, I dodged upwards and saw the GINN had somehow appeared behind me, its thruster smoking. "No way! Did it overcharge its own thruster in an attempt to hit me after realizing the Fafnir had superior mobility?" I said, dumbfounded. The amount of work required to adjust one's thruster output during battle was staggering, yet this pilot had somehow managed it. "So, this is a coordinator. I wonder if he can still dance."
Looking downward, I saw the GINN looking back up at me, unmoving, as if waiting for me to make the first move. I descended, and as it attempted to replicate its earlier tactics, I was prepared this time. I employed the Fafnir's superior mobility to pressure him, leading us into an aerial dance around the battlefield. I dodged its attacks while throwing counterattacks that barely scratched the GINN. "This guy is pretty good. He almost seems like a completely different person from earlier. Shame—if he had a stronger mobile suit, he might actually give me a fight. For now, this is just a game of tag." I said, deciding it was time to end things. Accelerating twice as fast as before, I sliced off its remaining limbs and retrieved my floating rifle, charging a shot aimed at the Gwyn.
I activated the comms and connected to Neil. "Your turn—say something that won't make me eliminate them." I said.
After ten minutes, the Gwyn fired off a white flare, and I heard Neil say he had convinced them we weren't their enemies. When I heard him say that, I couldn't help but laugh. Apparently, he claimed we belonged to a mercenary group called Celestial Being and were currently traveling incognito due to a fallout with the EA over their policies on coordinators. As proof of our fallout, he mentioned we would send over a recording regarding Junius Seven, indicating he wanted me to send over evidence about the members of Blue Cosmos.
Although that probably wouldn't change anything about the war—except to piss off the coordinators—it didn't matter. As long as ZAFT didn't focus on Orb, the better.
After sending the recording stored in my PDA to the Gwyn via the Fafnir, I was about to return when I noticed the black and green GINN again. Connecting to its comms, I asked, "What's your name?"
The comms were silent for a moment before I heard the pilot breathing heavily. "Aston... and yours?" Upon hearing his voice, I surmised he was likely no older than eighteen. I took a moment to think before providing a codename.
"Sigurd." I said, introducing myself with the name I had just created. "You're pretty good, kid." I cut off the comms and returned to the ship with a smile on my face.
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