Near the wreckage of Heliopolis, the Archangel was cruising forward at low speed.
"Deploy the interception net—Jegan is about to dock. Prepare for recovery."
On the bridge, Murrue Ramius gripped the armrests of her chair tightly as she watched the unsteady Jegan approach the launch bay.
"To be honest, even I'm a little scared of that guy, Roz."
Sitting in the co-pilot's seat, Mu La Flaga shook his head as the Jegan flew into the launch port.
"He just charged straight at ZAFT's battleships without a word. Are all space junk dealers this wild?"
"No matter what, let's complete recovery and get out of the Heliopolis area."
Murrue sighed softly, making her decision.
"Our supplies are still low. Even though Creuset's team was temporarily driven off by Roz, the longer we stay here, the more danger we'll be in."
-----------------------------------
"Finally... made it."
Roz barely managed to steer the Jegan into the hangar, colliding into the interception net.
After that high-speed assault, his tense nerves and body strained under G-forces had reached their limit.
While his consciousness still lingered, Roz glanced at the Strike Gundam standing nearby—and at Kira, who had just climbed down from the Gundam, staring wide-eyed as the Jegan slammed into the net.
"Heh... Kira, you've got potential as a space junk dealer..."
Roz's gaze drifted to the escape pod lying on the hangar floor—the one Kira had retrieved—before his vision went dark, and he finally passed out.
-----------------------------------
In the haze, Roz felt as though he were drifting in space.
Tiny points of starlight shimmered within an endless darkness. Then, as if caught by gravity, he felt himself plummeting rapidly, crashing into the atmosphere of a planet.
The searing heat seemed ready to melt him, yet strangely, his consciousness grew sharper and clearer.
Through the haze, a figure in a white lab coat reached out and grasped his hand.
"Wake up, Roz…"
"We said we'd change the world together, didn't we?"
"Hell doesn't welcome you..."
A sudden surge of strength pulled on his arm—and Roz was yanked back from the darkness.
He jolted awake, sitting upright on a bed, a drip needle still in his hand, cold sweat running down his face.
"You're awake?"
A voice spoke softly.
Flame-red hair filled his vision—Christina sat by his bedside, glancing toward the doctor who had just left the infirmary.
"You were drenched in sweat, twitching a little... haunted by ghosts again?"
"Heh... You know I can't escape their influence anymore."
Roz pulled out the IV needle and casually took the bandage Christina handed him, pressing it over the puncture wound.
"How's the situation?"
"ZAFT has temporarily withdrawn. Heliopolis is completely destroyed. Kira piloted the Strike Gundam and brought back an escape pod with a damaged thruster. The Archangel is short on supplies."
Christina summarized the status crisply as Roz got out of bed and slipped on his shoes.
"Yeah, I saw it when I came back earlier. I was thinking—Kira's really got talent for being a space junk dealer."
Roz pulled on his jeans and shirt from the nearby chair, straightening his clothes.
"Captain Murrue seems to be looking for you. I'll go prep the Jegan first."
-----------------------------------
After walking through a long corridor and taking several lifts, Roz Links finally arrived at the Archangel's bridge, following the ship's internal map.
Pshhh~
The automatic doors slid open. It was Roz's first time stepping onto the Archangel's bridge.
As expected of the Earth Alliance's newest warship, its bridge design was unlike standard vessels. Though similar in size, the radar and fire control stations were set in lowered pits, giving the entire room a spacious, open feel.
Hearing the sound of the door, Mu La Flaga, who had been speaking with Murrue Ramius in a serious tone, turned his head—and his expression instantly relaxed.
"Well, well—look who's finally awake!"
He waved casually toward Roz, who had just entered.
"Everyone, give a round of applause for the hero who single-handedly crippled two ZAFT battleships!"
The tension on the bridge melted at once. The crew, who had been in grim discussion, gladly seized the chance to lighten the mood.
Applause erupted.
Every pair of eyes turned toward Roz—especially Murrue's and Badgiruel's, their gazes unblinking. Roz felt an overwhelming urge to dig himself a hole in the steel floor large enough to live in—a three-bedroom apartment would do nicely.
The atmosphere had shifted so suddenly it felt like the next thing they'd do was break into a chorus of 'omedetou'.
As Roz debated whether a polite retreat might save him, a strong arm—clearly belonging to someone who worked out—wrapped around his shoulders and dragged him forward into the bridge.
"When we heard you'd passed out, we were all really worried, you know," Mu said cheerfully, steering Roz toward the captain's chair. His grin had that same infuriating gleam.
"After all, when you shouted 'Bow before me, God!' in that thunderous voice, it really fired us up!"
Roz froze.
Then, moving like a stiff model kit joint, he slowly turned his head toward Mu—eyes hollow, voice flat.
"You're telling me... I forgot to turn off my comms?"
Mu's answer hit like a beam saber through the cockpit. If this were a comedy skit, Roz would have turned gray and crumbled into dust on the spot.
"Yep. Everyone on the bridge heard it. Your energy really inspired the crew."
Mu raised a thumbs-up with a dazzling, toothy grin.
"Oh, and Kira perked up a bit after hearing you too."
Roz Links—critical hit!
The carefully maintained image of "reliable, cool-headed man" he'd built among the crew shattered like glass.
"Pfft—"
Murrue, who had been trying to maintain composure, couldn't help but laugh. Soon, the whole bridge was filled with laughter.
There was relief, release after tension—and above all, gratitude toward the young man standing before them.
Truthfully, everyone had been ready to die. Facing two ZAFT warships with just one ship and two mobile suits was a hopeless battle.
No one had expected they'd all survive—and even drive ZAFT off.
"Roz, don't ever do that again."
When the laughter died down, Murrue finally spoke.
"You rushed out without warning. Everyone was worried."
"You were too far away. The Archangel couldn't support you," Badgiruel added. She'd wanted to scold him for acting on his own, but remembering that he'd saved them—and that he was technically just a hired hand—she softened her tone instead.
"Couldn't be helped," Roz said, regaining composure. "I was the closest one to them. It was the best shot I had."
"Besides, I went out loaded with two full magazines of anti-ship rockets. I couldn't waste that chance."
"Even so," Murrue said, frowning slightly, "please don't take such risks again. If not for yourself—think about Christina at least."
She paused before continuing.
"While you were unconscious, we discussed our next move. We'll head to the Eurasian Federation's Artemis Fortress nearby for resupply, then proceed to Earth."
"At that point, we'll disembark the civilians Kira brought back. If you and Christina wish to part ways with us there…"
"…Let's talk about that when the time comes." Roz scratched his head awkwardly, deflecting the question.
"Well, you'd better keep your communicator handy. Who knows—I might call you one day to say I'm getting off the ship."
Murrue looked as though she wanted to press further, but instead, she simply nodded.
"…Understood."
-----------------------------------
Roz naturally had no intention of disembarking at the Artemis Fortress. Whether it was his hazy memory or the faint, constant pain stabbing through his mind, both told him clearly that the place was dangerous.
However, since Murrue had already made her decision — and because the Archangel genuinely needed to resupply — Roz decided to take the risk and tag along for now.
When he arrived at the hangar, the maintenance crews were still as busy as ever, even though ZAFT had been driven off for the moment.
Oh, wait — this wasn't Heliopolis anymore. They were in space. Their feet literally couldn't touch the ground.
Roz floated absentmindedly toward his Jegan.
The mobile suit was securely fixed in place within the hangar, its armor still unrepaired. Scorch marks left by beam grazes streaked across the deep-blue frame, blackened and ugly.
Too bad there weren't more impact holes — it would've been the kind of "battle-damaged finish" modelers dream about.
"Yo, Roz! You're up and moving again, huh?"
As Roz stared at his Jegan in silence, Murdoch, who had been helping Kira maintain the Strike Gundam, floated over.
"Sorry, but your unit's connection protocol isn't compatible with ours. We can't do any maintenance work on it right now."
Murdoch frowned as he inspected the Jegan.
"Nowadays both ZAFT and the Earth Forces use the same standard interface… Can't believe there's still a machine that runs on something else."
"That's not a big deal. Anyway, Murdoch, where are those materials I brought back earlier?"
Roz snapped out of his thoughts and casually grabbed a nearby toolbox.
"Over there. That pile of junk you dragged back is taking up half the hangar. What are you planning to do with it?"
Murdoch pointed toward the corner of the hangar, where heaps of scrap metal were stacked up — parts Roz had scavenged from destroyed GINNs before Heliopolis was blown apart.
"You wanted to know where this mobile suit came from, right?"
Roz pushed himself off a railing, picked up a welding torch, and slowly drifted toward the pile of scrap.
"...Roz?"
Kira, having just finished adjusting the Strike Gundam, finally relaxed a little when he saw Roz moving around with energy.
"Hey, Kira. Looks like you're starting to get used to piloting that thing, huh?"
Roz stopped beside the junk pile, glanced at the empty maintenance bay and the dangling cable ports, then started sifting through the wreckage piece by piece.
"I'm sorry… I mean, I can pilot an MS, but… I really don't want to fight."
Kira floated closer, watching Roz rummage through the debris.
"There's no reason to apologize, Kira."
Roz finally found a few usable components, pulled a wrench from the toolbox, and began disassembling a panel.
"I told you before — no matter what's in your heart, you and I both took up the controls to protect something."
"But… I… I can't bring myself to pull the trigger."
Kira's voice trembled slightly, as if he wanted to say more.
Roz paused his work and turned to face Kira.
"Can't pull the trigger… I see. You've got friends in ZAFT, don't you?"
It wasn't hard to deduce — just thinking about Kira's identity as a Coordinator made it obvious enough.
"And your friend… he's the one piloting that Aegis Gundam, right? I saw you two facing off before Heliopolis broke apart, but you didn't fight."
"…Yes. My best friend is inside that machine."
Kira lowered his head, his expression twisted with conflict. His thoughts were a tangled mess.
"That's war, Kira."
Roz looked up at the Strike Gundam, its armor still the dull iron-gray of deactivated Phase Shift armor.
"The hatred between Earth and the PLANTs has already formed a dead knot. For those standing in the middle, the day will come when they'll have to raise their blades — to protect one group of friends, even if it means turning them against another."
"Can't… can't war ever stop?"
Kira asked the question quietly, almost pleadingly.
"In theory, it can," Roz replied, his gaze drifting toward the emblem painted on his Jegan's left shoulder. "But in practice, it's nearly impossible."
"…Still, that's up to people. Who knows what the future holds? If we don't act, then nothing will ever change — we'll just sit back and watch the world rush headlong into destruction."
"That's why I pilot my mobile suit. That's why I fight."
He turned around again and tightened a bolt with his wrench, the metallic click echoing softly in the hangar.
"You're too caught up in your thoughts right now, Kira. Get some rest. You might feel better after some sleep."
"I… I understand."
Kira bit his lip and turned to leave the hangar.
"Oh, and Kira."
Roz called out suddenly, not turning around.
"Even though you've already taken that Gundam into battle, if you still can't bring yourself to kill…"
"Then get stronger. Strong enough to disable an enemy's mobile suit without damaging the cockpit or the reactor."
Kira opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came out. Finally, he clenched his fists, made up his mind, and walked away without looking back.
"Ah… kids these days."
A lazy, teasing voice sounded from behind Roz once Kira had left. A hand extended a welding torch toward him.
"I thought I'd have to play therapist for Kira myself, but you beat me to it."
Without looking up, Roz took the torch from Mu and began cutting into the pile of scrap.
"Shouldn't you be on the bridge, not wandering around down here?"
"And your Moebius Zero still doesn't have any replacement parts, does it?"
"It's not urgent yet," Mu replied casually, leaning against the railing. "Radar hasn't picked up any other ZAFT ships. I figured I'd check on the kid's mental state. Didn't expect you'd already have it covered."
He watched with curiosity as Roz disassembled the scrap metal piece by piece.
"So what are you doing? Planning to take this junk apart and sell it?"
Clang!
Roz didn't even pause his movements, continuing to cut with practiced precision.
"You want to know?" He smirked slightly, eyes fixed on his work. "Then just watch."
-----------------------------------
Aboard the Archangel – Bridge.
Murrue reached out and rubbed her temples.
Even now, although she had gradually gotten used to handling the Archangel's affairs, once too many matters piled up, it was inevitable for her to feel a bit flustered.
Whether it was Kira, whose psychological issues were obvious even to normal eyes, or the fact that the Archangel still lacked an official Earth Forces identification code—both were problems that had to be solved.
"You're tired, Captain Ramius. You can go rest first," Natarle, standing beside her, said after looking at the exhausted Murrue.
"Besides, I remember your gunshot wound was only given emergency treatment. We have a doctor on board now. Leave the bridge to me."
"Haa… then I'll leave it to you, Natarle."
Murrue stood up from the captain's seat, but for some reason, she absentmindedly picked up a communication headset and slipped it into her pocket.
At this moment, Mu entered the bridge with a bewildered expression.
"Lieutenant La Flaga? What's with that look?"
Seeing Mu's expression, Murrue asked in confusion.
"You guys probably won't believe what I just saw."
Mu sat down at the helmsman's seat, holding his head, feeling as though his worldview had been overturned.
"Everyone saw it—everyone in the hangar. Roz, that guy, used scrap parts from a GINN and just basic tools to make a functioning connector! Its charging speed is even faster than the Strike Gundam's!"
"I finally believe it now—there really are geniuses in this world who defy human common sense."
Murrue and Natarle exchanged a glance.
"I'll go take a look."
-----------------------------------
In the hangar, an oddly shaped device had been added to Jegan's charging port, with the other end connected to the Archangel's power cable.
At this moment, Jegan's armor was fully opened. Several Haros sat on a specially made maintenance platform, performing diagnostics on the mobile suit.
Christina, wearing a white lab coat, held a tablet connected to the cockpit, seemingly analyzing some data.
When Murrue arrived in the hangar, she saw the maintenance crew staring at the strange device with expressions as if they were looking at an alien.
In fact, Mu had only seen Roz make the charging adapter for Jegan and then leave. He didn't see what Roz built afterward — a device to recharge the beam rifle's energy packs. To the horror of the maintenance team, that very orkish-looking device was now placed beside Jegan, charging its beam rifle magazines.
When Roz began making certain machines—if the device had a specific form and function—his subconscious would automatically match it with known technologies and make a practical equivalent. But if it was something beyond known science, it would appear in his mind as "I figure it should work like this."
As for machines that had only a function but no definite form, they would take on a "well, I think this thing can move" kind of orkish creation style.
Whether it was Jegan or these hastily made adapters, all of them were built based on Roz's thought of "I think this'll work."
Suddenly, Christina, standing beside the cockpit door, noticed Murrue entering. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she spoke toward Roz, who was adjusting parameters inside the cockpit, in a voice quiet yet clear enough to be heard.
"Roz, that fox woman is here for you again."
"? Who?"
Roz was stunned. What other woman did he even know? Thinking carefully, since boarding the Archangel, there were definitely fewer than five women he had any real connection with.
"…She's coming over. Wooden block, I'm leaving the rest to you."
Seeing Roz's completely puzzled expression, Christina sighed for some reason and stepped aside.
On the surface, she appeared to be reading the tablet's data, but in reality, she was secretly observing everything in front of her through her electronic eye.
Roz exited the cockpit and stepped into the passageway by the hatch. There, he saw Murrue drifting over to him.
"…How are things going on your side?"
Murrue opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but changed the subject halfway and brought up Jegan instead.
Roz glanced at Christina, who seemed fully focused on her work and ignoring everything else, then turned back to Murrue and spoke.
"Fortunately, your tools here are pretty complete. If I had to rely only on wrenches, making these two adapters would've taken more time. Jegan will regain combat capability soon."
"I see… that's good."
Murrue glanced at Jegan behind Roz and, almost without thinking, took a communication headset from her pocket.
"This is my comm earpiece. You can note down my communication frequency."
"If you need anything, call me."
Crack.
A sharp creak came from the side.
Christina had almost crushed the tablet in her hand.
...........
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