Luna Base hung in orbit like a silent steel scar across the moon's grey face. The docks were alive with sparks and shouting mechanics as battle-weary Zeon ships limped home from Earth. The air smelled of coolant and defeat.
Major Tanya von Zehrtfeld stepped out of her shuttle and surveyed the chaos. Her blonde hair was tied tight beneath her officer's cap, her eyes cold and sharp behind her glasses. Around her, the GED – Ground Expeditionary Division – unloaded damaged Doms, Zakus, and Geloogs with missing limbs.
"Another victory parade," she muttered dryly. "Except the only thing marching is the wounded."
Her adjutant saluted, handing her the latest orders. Tanya skimmed them quickly, her expression tightening.
> Redeploy to Solomon. Immediate effect. Prepare for incoming Federation counteroffensive.
"Solomon?" she whispered. "So, they plan to die in space now."
---
Across the hangar, Char Aznable stood beside a silver-blue mobile suit unlike any other — the Zudah , a perfected prototype whose frame shimmered under the floodlights. Engineers in white suits scurried around it, running diagnostics.
"Lieutenant Commander Aznable," Tanya called as she approached, "so the rumors were true. Lelouch's project lives."
Char turned, his helmet tucked beneath his arm, his smile cool. "Ah, Major Zehrtfeld. You've returned from the hell called Earth, I see. Yes, Lelouch can do it by Jason Arkadi Help and finally stabilized the Zudah's reactor. No more suicide by thruster overload."
Tanya studied the machine — its sleek armor and refined balance — and gave a slow nod. "Too bad innovation always arrives after the war is already lost."
"Perhaps," Char said with a small shrug. "But if I'm to fall, I'd rather do it in style."
She almost smiled. Almost.
---
A siren echoed through the base, followed by the iron voice of Gihren Zabi across every loudspeaker.
> "Soldiers of Zeon! Our forces regroup at Fortress Solomon. There, we will crush the Federation counterstrike and prove our noble blood! Rally to Solomon, for the glory of the Principality!"
The announcement ended, leaving only the hum of machinery and the quiet disbelief of those who listened.
Norris Packard grunted from a nearby repair gantry. "Orders are orders. We fight where we're told."
Griveous, one of Tanya's more unstable Commorade, laughed softly. "As long as there's blood and noise, I don't care who wins."
Tanya folded her arms, her voice sharp as glass. "You're all insane. We've lost half our fleet, our supply lines are broken, and they want to hold Solomon? That's not strategy. That's suicide."
M'quve, ever composed, stepped beside her, sipping from a crystal glass even here in a hangar full of oil fumes. "You think too rationally, Major. The Zabis no longer fight for logic. They fight for legacy."
"Legacy doesn't stop beam fire," Tanya shot back.
"No," M'quve murmured, looking at his reflection in the wine. "But it helps you ignore how close you are to dying."
---
Later, in her quarters aboard the Iron Serpent, Tanya sat in silence as data scrolled across her tablet. Ammunition reports, repair schedules, morale indexes — all trending downward.
"This isn't a redeployment," she whispered. "It's a funeral procession."
Her thoughts darkened, drifting toward the one name she hated most.
> Being X… you're still watching, aren't you? Twisting fates, whispering into fools' ears, laughing as they march toward extinction. Did you make them like this — arrogant, blind, divine in their own stupidity?
She clenched her fist until her glove creaked.
"No. I won't let you use me again."
---
A knock at her door.
"M'quve, sir," the voice announced.
"Enter."
The aristocrat stepped inside, his uniform as immaculate as his manners. "You look as though you've already written our obituaries."
Tanya gestured to the floating display of casualty graphs. "I prefer to plan ahead."
He gave a thin smile. "Do you truly believe the Zabis have lost their way?"
"I believe something is steering them," she said softly. "Something worse than arrogance. Faith."
"Faith?" M'quve repeated. "How poetic."
"Poisonous," she corrected.
He swirled his drink again, eyes hollow. "Perhaps. But obedience is easier. Doubt doesn't win medals."
When he left, the room fell silent again — the hum of the ventilation the only sound. Tanya let out a breath, feeling the weight of command press down on her.
---
The next morning, she crossed the engineering sector, passing teams loading fresh thruster fuel and munitions. Voices echoed from the observation deck.
> " Jason final specs stabilized the Zudah's output."
"Char says it handles smoother than any Zaku II."
"If we'd Make Zudah as main line to Mass produce , we might've defeated the Federation while they still development Gundam…"
Tanya paused, watching the perfect Zudah through the glass. The silver armor gleamed like moonlight.
> A perfect machine born too late. Like every empire that thought itself eternal.
She walked on.
---
At the command hall, Zeon's elites assembled for the briefing.
Char, M'quve, Norris Packard, Griveous, and Tanya — the survivors of countless fronts — stood before the holographic map of Solomon. Red vectors marked incoming Federation fleets.
Char broke the silence first. "Lelouch's failure at Jaburo gave the Federation momentum. They'll come for Solomon next."
Tanya: "And our counter?"
M'quve: "Dozle consolidates all forces. We hold the right defense line."
Tanya: "So we'll die efficiently."
Norris: "Better to die fighting than fleeing."
Char: "Spoken like a soldier, not a strategist."
Tanya's gaze cut through them. "Enough. We follow orders — but we make them count. If Solomon falls, Zeon's dream dies with it."
A moment of silence. Even Char nodded slightly.
---
Hours later, the Luna docks roared to life. Convoys of Musai cruisers and Gwazine-class flagships powered up their engines. The Iron Serpent anchored near the center of the fleet.
Tanya stood on the bridge, watching the shimmering thruster trails curve across the void.
In the adjacent bay, Char prepared his Zudah for launch. A hologram flickered beside him — Jason Arkadi, his expression calm, analytical.
> Arkadi: "Try not to die before the data comes in, Lieutenant Commander."
Char: laughs softly "I'll do my best to disappoint you, Chief."
Tanya overheard, shaking her head. "Even our Genius Mechanic have gallows humor."
---
As the final countdown echoed through the hangar, Char approached her on the loading ramp. The light from Luna's surface glinted off his visor.
> Char: "Still unconvinced, Major?"
Tanya: "I don't believe in miracles. I make results."
Char: "Then make one for Zeon."
Tanya: "If Zeon deserves it."
They shared a brief nod — not trust, but mutual recognition.
Different beliefs. Same battlefield.
---
The fleet began to move.
Engines flared like falling stars as Zeon's finest left Luna's orbit, bound for Solomon. The Iron Serpent sailed among them, carrying Tanya's weary resolve and Char's burning ambition.
From the bridge, Tanya watched the endless dark stretch before her.
Her hands tightened on the rail.
> Being X… if you want to witness despair, come watch Solomon burn.
Her reflection stared back — calm, defiant, human.
The fleet accelerated into the black, leaving Luna behind, chasing a glory already turning to ash.