>>5414507
>...Your father, Degwin Zabi.

>>5414507
>...Your father Zeon Zum Deikun’s most trusted physician, Girard.

>>5414507
>...Your father Zeon Zum Deikun’s most trusted physician, Girard.

>>5414507
>...Your father Zeon Zum Deikun’s most trusted physician, Girard.

God, plz no Zabi, I wouldn't be able to trust us if we were a part of that cursed family.

>>5414565
>>5414585
>>5414640
Deikun wins, locking it in.

>>5414507
>>...Your father Zeon Zum Deikun’s most trusted physician, Girard.

>>5414565
>>5414585
>>5414640
>>5414762

Girard’s worn, haggard face looks down at you as the old man’s expression shifts from confusion, to mild surprise, and then finally settles upon worry. His wrinkled brow furrows deeply as he kneels down and extends a hand to you, speaking gently.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” Girard asks, meeting your unsteady gaze. He looks absolutely exhausted.

“I… I just wanted to know...” You begin to explain, but something about the look in his eyes causes your heart to sink and you find yourself unable to speak.

His expression softens as he helps you to get back to your feet, “It’s quite alright, child. I was just about to send for you and the rest of your family. Are you alright? That looked like a hard fall.”

You shake your head and spend a moment adjusting your wrinkled pajamas, “...I’m okay, it wasn’t so bad… What’s going on? Where are father and mother?”

“Right to the point then,” Girard half mumbles before addressing you more clearly, “Your mother and siblings are safe, but I’m afraid that your father is very unwell.”

A horrible sinking feeling grips you, fear taking anything from your mind but for a simple question, “Is he going to be okay?”

“No, I'm very sorry. It is important that you all see him soon.” Girard answers, before turning to the others in the study and waving them out. Among their number are a few of the household servants, one of Girard’s assistant nurses, and a man you recognize as Jimba Ral - one of your father’s closest if quite eccentric friends.

Jimba leads the others out of the room while speaking into a small radio, “Ramba, bring up Astraia and the other children. It’s worth the risk to have them together again, the doctor says there isn’t much time left.”

"Understood, the car should be there in a few minutes." A voice replies over the radio's tinny speaker, static distorting it slightly.

You’re led along through the long hallways of your family's mansion, barely paying attention to what is happening around you as Girard gently guides you onward. Why didn’t anybody tell you what was happening until now? Why did the soldiers leave with Casval earlier without taking you? What is going to happen to father?

You pass by a framed family portrait on one of the walls, oil on canvas, and the image briefly focuses your racing mind. Father, Mother, your older brother Casval, your younger sister Artesia, and…

>Astraia. You’re named after your mother.
>Felix. You’re named after a bodyguard who saved your father’s life a decade ago.

>>5414792
>Felix. You’re named after a bodyguard who saved your father’s life a decade ago.

>>5414792
>Felix. You're named after a bodyguard who saved your father's life a decade ago.

>>5414792
>>5414792
>Felix. You’re named after a bodyguard who saved your father’s life a decade ago.

Let's fucking go new Gundam quets. Thank God the the zabi option lost.

>>5414794
>>5414798
>>5414850
Locking in Felix. Next part should be posting fairly soon.

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>>5414794
>>5414798
>>5414850

It isn't a long walk.

You're led to a room on the far side of the mansion where your father is being treated. Jimba says something about a 'successful decoy' to whoever it is he’s speaking with over the radio now, maybe it's still Ramba. You barely have any time to think of it before you catch sight of your mother, Casval, and Artesia being hurried down the opposite side of the hallway by a pair of soldiers, their blonde hair in stark contrast with the drab colors of the soldier's uniforms.

“Felix! Oh, you’re alright, I was so worried!” Your mother cries out, hurrying over to you and leaving the pair of soldiers in the dust.

Your mother embraces you in a tight hug, and Artesia begins crying as she joins in a moment later. Casval stands off to the side a few paces away, his blue eyes locked intently on the wooden door leading into the room your father is being treated in as Girard enters the room. The old doctor steps out of sight for a moment before waving you all in.

You rarely come to this part of your home, and the interior of this room is a strange sight, half a guest room and half like the hospital room you had to stay in when you got very sick a few years ago. A vague memory plays in the back of your mind, a half remembered conversation between your father and Jimba about the need for precautions like better armed guards and medical equipment… it flew over your head at the time.

Your father, Zeon Zum Deikun, lays under the white covers of an uncomfortable looking bed, a number of compact machines nearby monitoring his vital signs. He shifts his head the slightest amount, barely moving at all to look at you as you enter, but he says nothing. His lips start to move, but words don’t form, and it occurs to you on some instinctive level that he can’t talk. Father doesn't look like himself, there’s something distant about his gaze, his eyes are sunken and strange and there’s a pallor to his skin. It’s as if he’s already mostly gone, somehow faded from life while still just barely lingering on.

Artesia continues crying, and you almost start to as well, but you manage to blink the tears away as your mother guides you over to the bedside. Your father’s hand shifts slightly, barely opening, and you reach out to hold it. He’s cold, far too cold. Artesia joins you, her smaller hand nestling alongside yours, and soon enough so does Casval.

>>5414874

Girard takes your mother to the side of the room for a moment, placing a hand on her shoulder as he speaks in a low voice, “We thought we were going to lose him immediately after he collapsed, but we managed a resuscitation. It's been a battle since then, even getting him here was a small miracle but Jimba insisted hospitals were too dangerous. The damage is permanent, Astraia. He isn’t going to get better.”

“There’s nothing else you can do?” Your mother questions, her voice wavering.

“Nothing at all… We did everything we could.”

“...Thank you, Girard. Can- does he still understand what’s going on?” Your mother asks hesitantly.

“Yes, but he likely doesn’t have long. If there’s anything you need to say, now is the time to do so.”

Your mother kneels beside the bed, speaking in a whisper to your father before breaking down into sobbing. She gently leans over onto you and your siblings, pulling you in with an arm to hold you tight. You let go of your fathers hand, and it seems like what dim awareness was left in his eyes is fading quickly. His eyes shift slightly as he looks in turn to Casval, and then you, and finally Artesia. You’re sure he’s trying to communicate, pass on some sense of responsibility or… or something, it’s almost palpable in the air but you don't know what he’s trying to say.

In a few moments your father will be gone, along with this chapter of your life. Distantly, as if from miles away, you hear Jimba Ral cursing the name of the Zabi family…

>Say nothing. You need to stay strong for Artesia and Mother.
>Say goodbye. Cry. A lot.

>>5414880
>Say nothing. You need to stay strong for Artesia and Mother.

>>5414880
>Say nothing. You need to stay strong for Artesia and Mother.

>>5414880
>Say goodbye. Cry. A lot.

>>5414880
>Say goodbye. Cry. A lot

We'd regret not doing so

>>5414886
>>5414888
>>5414889
>>5414898
I'm going to leave voting open for another half hour, and if there isn't a winner at that point I'll roll it off.

>>5414880
>Say goodbye. Cry. A lot.
Now is not the time for strength nor being solemn.

>>5414909
>>5414889
>>5414898
Locking it in.

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>>5414909
>>5414898
>>5414889

“Goodbye, father.” You struggle to say the words, pressing more tightly against your mother as tears blur your vision. A few heartbeats later, Zeon Zum Deikun, the great mind behind Contolist philosophy, the beloved leader of Side 3, and your loving father, dies.

A few days later.
10:55 AM, 25 October, UC 0068
Autonomous Republic of Munzo, Side 3

Today is your father’s funeral.

There were riots and protests over the last few days as word of your father’s death got out, but the Munzo and Federation security forces have gotten things mostly under control by now. Only a few trails of smoke and littered signs along the road betray that anything happened at all; after the initial shock of your father's death, and the inflammatory allegations being thrown at the federation as being somehow responsible for it, things have calmed down.

The funeral was a grand affair, and oddly well planned. You watched crowds of citizens, fellow spacenoids, standing along the city streets as your father’s funeral procession slowly made its way to the state cathedral. With a full military escort led by Uncle Ramba there wasn’t any trouble from the crowds, and you were inside of an armored limousine regardless, but the soldiers escorting you seemed very on edge the entire time. It’s hard to imagine what threat the crowds would pose, they loved your father. It’s really the federation that they’re furious with, even if what Jimba says is true and the Zabi’s are the ones responsible for your father's death…

Munzo and Federation leaders of the highest ranks are in attendance at the funeral, including the entire Zabi family. There are so many people in attendance that they're filling the grand cathedral almost to overflowing with mourners and enemies of your father alike. Artificial light filters down from the stained glass windows, imitating the sun so very far away from the closed-type colony you've called home your entire life. Your suit is uncomfortable, you aren’t used to wearing it, and it your shirt collar keeps chafing against your neck.

Before you arrived you thought you might cry, but there’s something almost unreal about the entire funeral. It's hard to believe that father is really gone. You stand alongside your brother and sister just before your father's casket, your mother a comforting presence just behind you, and you listen to a man you’ve never met extol the virtues of you father in a eulogy that feels more targeted at the federation representatives who are present than at your family or any of the other mourners.

“...As chairman he was a trailblazer for Spacenoid liberation, and now, as he ascends into the cosmos, he is becoming the very cornerstone of that ideal. May his soul be at rest and inspire eternal justice. May his ideals live forever. Though his flesh may have perished, may he cast his light upon our path and show us the way. Sieg Zeon.”

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>>5414951
Off to your right, just a few meters away in one of the frontmost pews, a purple haired boy is fidgeting with his hair. You exchange glances with him briefly, eyes locking for just a moment. Garma Zabi is only about a year older than you, the same age as your brother, and he looks about as miserable to be here as you are… except he’s clearly bored rather than sad. He gives you a friendly, almost clueless look as he continues to fidget with a bit of his hair.

>Glare at him. He’s being disrespectful, he should be taking this seriously. This is all his family’s fault.
>Try to look friendly. Garma isn’t to blame for this. Maybe you can talk with him after this is done.

>>5414953
>Try to look friendly. Garma isn’t to blame for this. Maybe you can talk with him after this is done.
No reason to make enemies with the Zabi. Yet.

>>5414953
>Try to look friendly. Garma isn’t to blame for this. Maybe you can talk with him after this is done.

>>5414959
Hehehehe.... yet.

>>5414953
>Try to look friendly. Garma isn’t to blame for this. Maybe you can talk with him after this is done.

>>5414953
>>Try to look friendly. Garma isn’t to blame for this. Maybe you can talk with him after this is done

>>5414959
>>5415006
>>5415038
>>5415069
Writing.

>>5414959
>>5415006
>>5415038
>>5415069
You feel a brief flash of annoyance at Garma’s disrespect, but it subsides almost immediately. He isn’t to blame for any of this, not any more than you are. Whatever the truth of what happened is, it is between adults - for now. You give him a weak smile, the best you can presently must, and he returns it along with a very small wave.

It isn’t long before people are filing back out of the cathedral, heading to the convoy of vehicles to reform the funeral procession and take your father’s casket to its final resting place at the state cemetery. As you follow your mother out among the crowd you keep an eye out for a chance to speak with Garma; your families are both under guard, but that’s a precaution meant to protect all of the important people in attendance from the public rather than keep them from one another. Garma is just a few paces away right now, it won’t be hard at all to slip over and speak with him.

You glance over again, seeing an opportunity as Garma falls a bit behind his father Degwin’s stride, and you begin to walk over - A hand grips your arm, stopping you momentarily. Turning, you see Casval looking at you and then over to Garma, his blue eyes filled with an intensity that you’ve often seen since father passed.

“Felix, we can’t trust them.” Your brother says, a mix of concern and venom filling his voice.

You shrug slightly, trying to downplay his apprehensions, “He might have overheard something from his father, Casval. Besides, they won’t do anything right now. Not here.”

>>5415107

Casval mulls over the idea for a second or two before giving you a slow nod and letting go of your arm, and you quickly slip over to Garma before the chance disappears.

“Oh, hi. You’re Felix, right?” Garma asks, smiling. He certainly doesn’t look evil, but you wish he’d speak a little less loudly. The other Zabis aren’t far away at all.
“I am. You’re Garma Zabi, right?”

“Mhm. Haven’t we met before?”

“Maybe at a boring dinner or something.” You offer up, remembering something of the sort from a few months ago, “The one at the academy, my father gave a speech.”

“Ooh, yeah, that.” He sounds very much like he’s remembering something quite unpleasant, but after a second he suddenly shifts into a more upright posture and tries to look apologetic, “...Uh, I’m sorry about your father. My dad always says he had great ideas.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” You say, sensing an opening, “We’ve all been pretty sad the last few days… I don’t really know what to do. How has your father been doing? They were close.”

“Dad? Oh, uhm, he’s been really busy.”

“Busy?” You question, pressing him a bit.

“Mhm, he had some big meeting with Kycilia, Gihren, and Sasr-” Garma trails off as a red haired woman in a military looking dress uniform, Garma’s half-sister Kycilia, steps back a few paces from the other Zabis and alongside both of you.

“Garma, I see you’re making new friends.” Kycilia says, grinning at first before speaking more sternly, “You should keep up with Father, the press are taking pictures. As a Zabi you must maintain appearances, Garma.”

“And you, young Felix,” Kycilia continues, looming over you, “Should keep closer to your family. These are dangerous times, your mother might worry for you.”

You meet Kycilia's gaze for a moment, not backing down, and she raises an eyebrow slightly before dismissively turning away and falling back in with the rest of the Zabi family. …She might have had a point though, you’ve gotten further from your family than you expected over the last minute or so, and you quickly hurry back to them.

Casval looks at you expectantly. Soon you’ll be loading back into the armored limousine, and there without the noise of the crowd leaving the cathedral there won’t be much time for conversation without your mother overhearing it.

>”They’re definitely responsible.” You can just feel it. Kycilia was absolutely menacing.
>”I didn’t have enough time to talk with him.” No need to jump to conclusions.

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>>5415109
>”I didn’t have enough time to talk with him.” No need to jump to conclusions.

Its truthful.
We shall learn the secrets to his perfectly kept hair in due time!

Also
>UC gundam quest!
>picrel

>>5415109
>”They’re definitely responsible.” You can just feel it. Kycilia was absolutely menacing.
>"I don't think Garma knows about it though, so not all of them are to blame."

>>5415121
Moving vote to this if write-in options are allowed

>>5415123
Write-ins are allowed, especially if they're just tweaking options to add more dialogue/additional detail.

>>5415121
supporting

>>5415121
support

>>5415109
>”I didn’t have enough time to talk with him.” No need to jump to conclusions.
We don't have any evidence of wrong-doing on their part, just bad blood, from the looks of things. I know precious little about Gundam, so maybe some of you might know more than I.

>>5415159
The Zabi family killed our dad to usurp Zeon and turn it into a dictatorship. Garma is the youngest and is a good boy, at least as far as Zabis go. He even becomes friends with our big bro Casval when he takes the fake identity of Char and develops a bit of an inferiority complex, making him be a glory hound.

>>5415163
Just realized that what I wrote was ambiguous, Garma is the one that tries to prove himself worthy, and Casval is the one undercover.

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>>5415146
>>5415132
>>5415123
>>5415121

“They’re definitely responsible,” You can just feel it, Kycilia was absolutely menacing, “but I don’t think Garma knows about it though. Not all of them are to blame.”

Casval wrinkles has nose ever so slightly at your answer, “Maybe, maybe not, but father didn’t do anything wrong and they still murdered him in cold blood.”

“That doesn’t… Do you want to be like them then?”

“No, I’ll never be like them.” Your brother answers after a pause, his face setting into a determined look.

Soon enough you’re back in the armored limousine and the funeral procession is making its way through the city and to the state cemetery, crowds of citizens of every age and background pressing tight on both sides of the road as armored vehicles lead the convoy forward. Artesia is idly messing with the hem of her black dress, occasionally complaining to your mother that she wishes her cat Lucifer was here. She isn’t clueless, but she’s young enough to still mostly be innocent to what’s going on - you’re just old enough to begin to understand.

Looking out through the tinted window you can’t help but wonder what the people in the crowd are thinking, what all of this looks like from a different perspective. It must be a spectacle. Do they even really feel sad? Your father was a friendly man, but most of them probably only ever attended one of his speeches or maybe shook his hand at some public event...

There’s a muffled crack of thunder and a sort of swelling roar of air just a few cars behind your limousine. An explosion. The limousine comes screeching to a halt, and the armed guards who were accompanying you in the surrounding vehicles begin pouring out into the street with guns drawn from concealed holsters. You mother leans over quickly and grabs your and Artesia's hands, and you can hear Jimba and some other mean outside shouting.

“Secure the perimeter!”

“Where’d that come from, was it a bomb?”

“Sir, I don’t think it was from the crowd.”

“Rooftops look clear!”

It’s a chaotic mess, and your mother tries to keep you from looking out the window for too long, “Felix, there’s nothing to worry about out there, it’s going to be alright. Artesia, are you okay?”

Artesia doesn’t answer, pressing more tightly into mother. She doesn’t cry this time though. Casval, on the other hand, is watching what is happening outside very closely, peering through the back window to try and get a better view of the destroyed car.

Outside a man’s voice roars furiously even over the confusion, “SASRO’S BEEN MURDERED! WHO DID THIS?! WHO’S THE BASTARD BEHIND THIS?!”

Sasro Zabi? More death then. Maybe that’s just how it will be from now on.

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>>5415166
As the initial confusion clears, the security detail secures safe exit paths for the rest of the procession’s vehicles. Apparently the burial service is canceled, something smaller will be done later or tomorrow if the security situation improves. You’re driven not to your own family home, but instead to Jimba’s distinctly more secure looking estate. It has a secure looking iron fence and concrete gatehouses; they almost look like little bunkers.

The next few hours pass by slowly. You’ve changed out of your dark suit, apparently spare clothes having already been moved to the Ral estate, but there’s been nothing to do but pace around and occasionally look out the window at the guarded perimeter. There's a crowd outside shouting and throwing rocks at the guards, almost a riot, but the guards seem to have it under control.

You’ve overheard shouting from other rooms a few times, Jimba, Ramba, and some of the other adults having heated arguments over what to do; it’s too indistinct to make any of it out though. Artesia’s complaints about missing Lucifer have only increased, and your mother is busy keeping her calm, leaving Casval and you mostly to watch the events transpiring outside.

Hours pass, and there’s no burial today. The night isn’t any calmer. Even from the guest room you’re being kept in you can hear distant gunfire and occasional explosions; it sounds far off, but you know the rest of the colony must be in absolute chaos right now. Ramba did manage to get Artesia her cat though, so at least she’s happier now. It makes you feel a little better to know that some people truly care.

What to do though?

>Sneak around the Ral estate and try and listen in on what Jimba and the other adults are talking about. They’re keeping you in the dark.
>Just try to sleep, tomorrow seems like it is going to be another very, very long day.

>>5415168
>Just try to sleep, tomorrow seems like it is going to be another very, very long day.
We can ask Casval tomorrow, and we need to be weel rested so we can be strong for sister when we all have to flee

>>5415168
>Sneak around the Ral estate and try and listen in on what Jimba and the other adults are talking about. They’re keeping you in the dark.

>>5415168
>Sneak around the Ral estate and try and listen in on what Jimba and the other adults are talking about. They’re keeping you in the dark.
Fuck its been a while since I watched The Origin, I'm hazy on all the details of the Zabi coup

>>5415168
>Sneak around the Ral estate and try and listen in on what Jimba and the other adults are talking about. They’re keeping you in the dark.

>>5415163
>>5415164
Ah, so, this quest is following canonical events and established characters, then? All right.
>>5415168
>Sneak around the Ral estate and try and listen in on what Jimba and the other adults are talking about. They’re keeping you in the dark.

>>5415179
+1

so what do you think mc will end up piloting when the shitshow in 0078 hits?

>>5415175
>>5415176
>>5415177
>>5415179
>>5415183
Locking it in.

>>5415179
You're playing a middle child in the Deikun family who doesn't exist canonically. There is also an extra Zabi about the same age as your character (other than Garma).

>>5415179
It looks like it, although our character is original since Casval and Asteria were the only two children of Zeon, so we probably might be able to diverge from canon when we grow up and get to the war from the original show, since we are in the prequel right now.
If this is some sort of interactive way to chargen, I got to give kudos to Contolist, it's a way better way to do it

>>5415183
God knows what side we're even going to end up on come 0078. Though I am partial to the Zudah.

>>5415168
>>Sneak around the Ral estate and try and listen in on what Jimba and the other adults are talking about. They’re keeping you in the dark.

>>5415187
than just some list
Accidentally deleted that last part

>>5415179
>>5415177
>>5415176
>>5415175

You’re sharing a large bed with the rest of your family. Your mother wanted to keep you all close during this crisis, so you have to wait until you’re sure she’s asleep to quietly slip from under the covers and out into the unfamiliar hallways of the Ral estate. For a moment you pause at the door, half expecting Casval to have noticed your absence and followed you, or maybe to have already snuck out on his own, but he seems to just be sleeping… you haven’t seen him look so peaceful in the last few days. Best not to wake him then. You can tell him what you find out in the morning

You’ve been to the Ral estate a few time before, but only for brief visits… which way was it to Jimba’s office again? The hallways are beautiful, more like an old french palace back on earth than the home of a wealthy family, political or not, but you don’t have time to admire it as you navigate by the faint light filtering in through the mansion’s large windows. The light is casting deep shadows, the dark outline of windowpanes blanketing over the white of hallways, and you move quickly from shadow to shadow.

Outside the skyline is a mess, fires burning off in the distance, wrapping all the way up the colony and into the sky, a dark cloud of ash and smoke slowly collecting along the center-axis of the cylinder’s rotation where the spin gravity doesn’t hold sway.

>>5415216
Eventually you find Jimba’s office, and again you find yourself listening intently to others through a door. Hopefully this isn’t the start of a bad habit. You smirk a little and lean in more closely.

“Those Zabi bastards, they’ve absolutely ruined us!” Jimba yells from inside, “They have the public thinking we killed Deikun and that we’ve captured his family! And what’s worse, now that Sasro is dead everyone thinks we’ve started killing off our other rivals!”

“Have we?” You hear Ramba question, barely able to hear him.

“Ramba? Now you as well?” Jimba sounds utterly defeated, “Even my own son doubts me…”

“No, it's just very convenient. It’s easy to see why the public misunderstands, but we can probably still come back from this-”

“Come back from this? Degwin blew up his own son just to frame us, and that awful Kycilia of his has her goons spreading rumors across the whole colony! There’s no coming back from this…”

“You think Degwin killed Sasro? That’s extreme, even for him.” Ramba says incredulously.

“Don’t underestimate the Zabis, Ramba. If not Degwin, then maybe it was Gihren, or Kycilia! They’re all vipers. They’ll do anything to get control of Munzo!”

“If we can get proof that one of them ordered the bombing, or Deikun’s poisoning, then I’m sure the public will come back to our side.”

Jimba sighs loudly, “My best men are already on the job… uh, besides you, Ramba. See what you can do, I guess. I’m going to start planning our escape.”

“You know that I won’t be able to leave, father. I have my duties here, even if I resign.”

“I know, I know. But we have to keep Deikun’s family safe, his legacy has to live on no matter what these Zabis do.” Jimba practically spits out the Zabi name, and you hear something heavy slam onto wood. A desk, maybe.

Silence falls for a few seconds before Ramba speaks up, “Well, then I think it’s settled. I’ll see if I can find any more information, but we’ll need to move fast with the escape plan either way. There’s no telling what the Zabis will do tomorrow, I already have my men fortifying the outer gate. Do you still have those machine guns?”

“What? Of course I do! Take anything you need, there’s some rockets around here as well…”

“Uh, I think machine guns are enough of a statement for now, father. We’re trying to prevent a fight, not look even more like terrorists. The Zabis already have enough fodder for the news.”

“Mmm…” Jimba grumbles, and you can’t hear the rest of what he says.

There are heavy footsteps approaching the door, and this time you manage to scurry off back to your room before being spotted. There’s a lot to think about. Are the Zabis really framing the Rals for everything? Nobody could possibly believe that, right? It takes a long time to go to sleep, thoughts racing through your head for hours.

>>5415220
You wake up late the next morning, your mother apparently having chosen not to disturb you. There is shouting in the hallways outside, and you get dressed quickly. Cleaning up properly can wait, something big is happening - As you peer out from the door you immediately spot you mother and Artesia standing close to one another nearby, but Casval isn't anywhere to be seen.

Jimba Ral is further down the hallway being held back by several men, bodyguards you think, and shouting at a nearby door. Several other men in suits are standing close to them along with a few of Ramba's soldiers, and everyone’s attention is fixed upon the closed door. Some of the men are holding bats and guns, as if they're poised to break through the closed door at any moment. They look... very uncertain though. Ramba is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s doing something in there with him! I can hear it! Casval is in danger! Why the hell did you ever let Kycilia inside, you idiots?! Let me go!” Jimba shouts, trying to pull away from the soldiers and get to the door. He might be old, but he's struggling the best he can to get free.

>Rush across the hallway and try to get to the door. Your brother needs help!
>Ask your mother what’s going on, this is all very sudden and confusing.

>>5415227
>Rush across the hallway and try to get to the door. Your brother needs help!
I'm sure ending up on the Zabi's shit list won't cause us any trouble

>>5415227
>Rush across the hallway and try to get to the door. Your brother needs help!

>>5415229
+1
We are playing a deikun
We are already on the shitlist for the pure fact of the political power a descendant of zeon can get shit like CCA Char comes to mind. Then again this is way after most of the zabi loyalists killed themselves off

>>5415227
>Rush across the hallway and try to get to the door. Your brother needs help!
>>5415229
The Zabis are in our shitlist, not the other way around. Except Garma and mysterious new child, they are free of sin.

>>5415237
Oh and maybe Dozle too, I remember he wasn't as completely rotten as the rest of the them. Would even say that he was a good person before the bombing, if a bit dumb.

>>5415229
>>5415233
>>5415234
>>5415237
Writing.

File: Zabi treachery.png (537 KB, 799x496)

537 KB PNG

>>5415237
>>5415234
>>5415233
>>5415229

Bolting suddenly out of the bedroom, you’re across the hallway before your mother can do anything more than cry out, “Felix, don’t!”

The soldiers and men in suits turn to look at you, but most of them don’t quite process what is going on before you’re past them. One lunges to grab you but you manage to just barely duck him, and then weave past the legs of another. They’re not moving as fast as they could be, trying not to hurt you with a full force tackle, and others are having to put away their guns or drop their bats before they can intervene meaningfully; you’d have no chance otherwise, even with surprise, but that doesn’t matter now - The door is just a few feet away!

You reach the door and pull it open, just barely slipping inside and shutting it behind you. No one follows you in. Kycilia is wearing her security forces dress uniform and standing at the far end of the room, looming over Casval who is handcuffed and sitting awkwardly atop a sofa. It looks as if he was just pushed onto it a few moments ago.

“I’m not afraid. I’m Deikun’s son. No one can do this to me!” Your brother says, holding his cuffed hands toward Kycilia defiantly.

Kycilia laughs, throwing back her head briefly, “Degwin Zabi is now the most powerful man in the nation! If Degwin orders it, I can tie you up hand and foot!”

“Still, I…” Casval meets Kycilia with a steely gaze, only hesitating for the slightest moment when he realizes you’ve entered the room, “We are the sons of Zeon Zum Deikun. We’ll grow up and make Degwin and the rest of you bow down to us!”

Kycilia turns to look at you, surprise briefly written across her face.

“I order you, take these off of me!” Casval continues, shoving his cuffed hands forward once again.

You run over to the two of them, interposing yourself to stand defensively between Kycilia and your brother, “Let him go, Zabi!”

The display barely seems to faze her.

“...Very well then, little lords.” Kycilia says, chuckling amusedly while shaking her head slightly, “I expect you’ll honor our arrangement, Casval.”

Casval nods, and she unlocks his handcuffs with practiced precision, taking them back and securing them once again onto her belt before turning to leave. She stops to address you before departing, smirking as she half turns to face you, “And you, little Felix, should learn to stay out of the business of your brother. That’s a nasty habit to develop.”

She then walks off, looking awfully pleased with herself, as if she’s just told the funniest joke in the world.

>”Casval, are you alright? What did she want?”
>Help Casval up and follow Kycilia, you want to make sure that witch actually leaves the estate. You can talk later.

>>5415274
>”Casval, are you alright? What did she want?”

>>5415274
>”Casval, are you alright? What did she want?”

>>5415274
>”Casval, are you alright? What did she want?”

>>5415274
>”Casval, are you alright? What did she want?”

>>5415281
>>5415286
>>5415287
>>5415289
Writing.

>>5415281
>>5415286
>>5415287
>>5415289

“Casval, are you alright?” You ask your brother as Kycilia quickly departs, “What did she want?”

“I'm fine. She came here to intimidate us into returning to our home.” He explains, blue eyes flashing with mischief, “I agreed to the deal. We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“What?” You question, not believing your ears, “But it isn’t safe at home, the Zabis have the whole colony in flames-”

“No, Felix, some of the Zabis have the colony in flames.” Casval says, standing up from the sofa and straightening his wrinkled clothes.

“You don’t think the Zabis are working together?”

“Not as closely as they’d like us to think. We’re trapped here right now, along with the Rals.”

“...And if we move it opens a chance to change the situation,” You conclude.

“Precisely that.” He says, placing one hand on your shoulder and confidently forming a fist with his other hand. Now is probably a good time to tell him about your little adventure last night.

“I snuck out of the bedroom last night and overheard Jimba and Ramba discussing the situation, it didn’t sound good. People think we're being held hostage here.” You explain, “Jimba has no proof yet of what the Zabis have done and he's being framed for it all, but he and Ramba seemed to think the Zabis are sort of disorganized too - or at least that their plans weren’t very clear. Jimba thinks Degwin might have killed Sasro, Ramba seemed skeptical though.”

“Oh? So it wasn’t the Rals?” Casval asks, almost looking a little disappointed as he considers the situation, “There’s no low the Zabis won't sink to then, they’re scum.”

There’s a brief pause as you both look up, a small commotion outside of the room drawing your attention. Whatever it was, it quiets down quickly. Nobody else has come into the room yet.

“So the deal is that we all just hand ourselves over to the Zabis and go home? You, me, mother… even Artesia?” You ask, making sure you understand the plan fully. It seems sort of crazy, but it might be better than living in a compound under siege by angry mobs.

Casval leads you over to the door, sounding utterly confident that the plan is a good idea, “Yes, there’s no chance they’ll hurt any of us while the public is still baying for blood over father's death. If word ever got out they’d be finished, not even a Zabi would risk it. It will take a lot of attention off of the Rals as well.”

>”I think your plan is a good idea, Casval. We need to open up options for the Rals to act.”
>”I think we should stay here, Casval. Handing ourselves over to the Zabis seems too risky.”

>>5415317
>”I think we should stay here, Casval. Handing ourselves over to the Zabis seems too risky.”
>"The Zabis being disorganized is even worse news for us, it means the deal you made with Kycilia wouldn't stop any of the others."

>>5415333
Support.

>>5415333
+1

>>5415317
>”I think we should stay here, Casval. Handing ourselves over to the Zabis seems too risky.”
How close are we to Casval and Artesia? or is that something these initial votes are deciding

>>5415317
>>”I think we should stay here, Casval. Handing ourselves over to the Zabis seems too risky.”

>>5415333
+1

>>5415340
It is something these initial votes are deciding.

>>5415333
>>5415334
>>5415339
>>5415340
>>5415341
>>5415343
Well, that's a landslide if I've ever seen one. Locking it in.

There might gap until the next post, not sure if I'll be done writing quick enough before I have to go do some other stuff. Whatever the case, I'll be posting again later tonight.

>>5415333
>>5415334
>>5415339
>>5415340
>>5415341
>>5415343

“I think we should stay here, Casval.” You say, having taken a moment to think over the deal, “Handing ourselves over to the Zabis seems too risky. The Zabis being disorganized is even worse news for us, it means the deal you made with Kycilia wouldn’t stop any of the others.”

“It is a risk.” He acknowledges, “But I think they’ll all come to the same conclusion to not harm us. Staying here might end with a riot storming the estate, or Zabi loyalists.”

You’re standing just a little ways from the door to the hallway now, but you want to finish this conversation before getting any of the adults involved.

“Then we could just tell them that we’re not hostages.” You offer up, shrugging, “Maybe we could turn the crowd against the Zabis if we tell them that the Zabis killed father.”

Casval shakes his head, “I already considered that, but they might just think we’re being forced to say it. Angry mobs aren’t known for listening to people, Felix, and Zabi loyalists definitely wouldn't hear us out. Besides, it might just start a civil war. Father would have hated that more than anything. I think just staying here and waiting risks a war too much as well, we need the Zabis to get complacent for just a moment.”

“...Father would have hated it.” You admit, knowing how precious peace among mankind was to your father’s vision of the future. The conversation about the machine guns and rockets between Jimba and Ramba flashes through your mind again; if things do get ugly at the Ral estate it could escalate very quickly.

>Head through the door and discuss the options with the adults, Jimba might know something you don’t that could help make a wise decision. If you don’t show a united front to them they might try to exploit division between you and Casval to lay their own plans instead.
>”Whatever happens, we’ll be together as a family, but could you just follow my lead on this one for once, Casval? I know you’re the eldest but… I have a really bad feeling about going.”

>>5415379
>Head through the door and discuss the options with the adults, Jimba might know something you don’t that could help make a wise decision. If you don’t show a united front to them they might try to exploit division between you and Casval to lay their own plans instead.
>"Let's decide together, as family and friends. It's what father would have wanted, and doing these shadow meeting is what the Zabis do"

>>5415393
+!

>>5415379
>>Head through the door and discuss the options with the adults, Jimba might know something you don’t that could help make a wise decision. If you don’t show a united front to them they might try to exploit division between you and Casval to lay their own plans instead.

>>5415393
>>Head through the door and discuss the options with the adults, Jimba might know something you don’t that could help make a wise decision. If you don’t show a united front to them they might try to exploit division between you and Casval to lay their own plans instead.
support

>>5415393
>>5415398
>>5415403
>>5415520
Alright, locking it in with the write-in addition.
I actually really like that dialogue, anon. Good stuff!

>>5415520
>>5415403
>>5415398
>>5415393

“Maybe we should talk this over with mother and Jimba,” You offer, knowing how Casval can be sometimes when he sets his mind to something, “Let’s decide together, as family and friends. It’s what father would have wanted, and doing these shadow meetings is what the Zabis do.”

The initial suggestion seems to ruffle his feathers a bit, but at the mention of father and the Zabis something seems to change in Casval’s eyes. His expression softens as he offers you his hand, “Together.”

You shake it, “Together.”

The two of you head back through the wooden door and into the hallway where there are notably fewer men than before; only a pair of men in suits and one of the soldiers. Jimba has his head in his hands, pacing and muttering to himself. Mother and Artesia are closer nearby, looking dreadfully worried.

“Are you both alright?” Your mother asks, hurrying over, “Kycilia said that you agreed to some kind of deal…”

“I heard it through the door,” Jimba announces, sounding defeated, “Casval agreed to have your family taken back to the Deikun mansion.”

“...Back to the mansion?” Your mother questions, not sounding at all comforted by the idea.

Casval nods, explaining the details of both of your ideas. Jimba and your mother listen intently. Artesia has procured Lucifer from somewhere and is holding the unruly black cat in her arms, much to its scratchy displeasure.

“Decide on a plan together, eh? With a pair of children? Even Deikun’s sons…” Jimba scoffs before looking even more defeated, “Well, it’s all a little late for that now regardless. Most of my men are abandoning me.”

“What?” You say almost simultaneously with Casval, though he quickly adds in a cutting “Cowards.” afterward.

“Almost all of them left after Kycilia made her announcement a few minutes ago… to think I would have called them loyal just this morning. The wind blows in the wrong direction for a couple of days and they scurry off!” Jimba slams a fist into the wall in frustration, cursing under his breath. He looks much older than he did a few days ago.

“You have more men though, right Jimba?” Your mother asks uncertainty, “Surely Ramba has some as well.”

“He has a few, yes, but a lot more that probably won’t listen anymore. I can promise that we’ll try though, we won’t let these Zabi bastards win this easily.”

The few remaining men in the hallway nod and mutter vague statements in agreement.

File: Ramba and Hamon, elsewhere.png (580 KB, 948x495)

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>>5415622
“So what do you think we should do then?” You ask, “I thought it would be better to stay here, but this changes things.”

“I’m working on something,” Jimba says cryptically, glancing over to the last soldier lingering nearby. Is he just being paranoid?

“...Would it have to do with what you were discussing with Ramba last night?” You ask, deciding to err on the side of caution. The question came out a little more vague, but you think he understands that you mean an escape plan.

“How-” Jimba starts to question you but then breaks out into a grin, “Yes, yes it does. He’s off, eh, finding the way, you could say.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Your mother says, utterly puzzled.

“...Perhaps we should speak somewhere more private.” Jimba offers up, leading you back to his office. He orders the remaining men to secure the perimeter, or whatever is left of it. Once you’re secured from potentially treacherous ears Jimba speaks with considerably more candor.

“Ramba is speaking with some associates of his in the city.” Jimba explains, “Astraia, you’ve met Ms. Hamon before, haven’t you?”

Your mother nods slowly, “In passing. Can she be trusted?”

“As much as Ramba can be. She would never betray him.” Jimba states matter-of-factly.

“And she’s working on finding us a way out?” Casval asks, “How long will she need?”

“I’m not sure, but Ramba said he would be back in a few hours with details… A few hours ago. With the colony the way it is right now it’s anybody’s guess when he’ll return. I wouldn’t dare call him right now though, the Zabis have the communications network monitored and they might put together what he’s up to.”

“So what does everybody think we should do then?” You ask, leaving the question hanging in the air.

“I still think we should go home,” Casval says, “Especially now. It will buy time for Ms. Hamon, and the Zabis will get suspicious if we don’t go soon.”

“...Could… Could we move along this escape plan? Do it faster, somehow?” Your mother asks, looking at Jimba. He seems uncertain.

“We could attempt something hastier, but I can’t guarantee your safety.” He finally answers, fists clenching again, “I’m sorry, Astraia.”

What to choose, what to choose…
>Go with Casval’s plan. You still don’t like it, but if it’s just to buy time maybe it will work. A few days or weeks might be fine.
>Press for a more immediate escape. It sounds like things are going to be dangerous either way.
>”Is there somewhere else on the colony that we could hide until Ms. Hamon and Ramba’s plan is ready?”

>>5415629
>”Is there somewhere else on the colony that we could hide until Ms. Hamon and Ramba’s plan is ready?”
I don't remember shit about Origin.

>>5415629
I feel like we could do better with some extra information but I'm unsure of what we could even ask at the moment, so until I or someone else thinks of anything we could ask that could further inform our position on the matter I think it might be wise to go with....

>Press for a more immediate escape. It sounds like things are going to be dangerous either way.

>>5415629
>”Is there somewhere else on the colony that we could hide until Ms. Hamon and Ramba’s plan is ready?”
Shouldn't hurt to ask

>>5415629
>Go with Casval’s plan. You still don’t like it, but if it’s just to buy time maybe it will work. A few days or weeks might be fine.

>>5415629
>”Is there somewhere else on the colony that we could hide until Ms. Hamon and Ramba’s plan is ready?”

>>5415642
>>5415660
>>5415738
Writing.

File: 1634152928130.jpg (40 KB, 400x400)

40 KB JPG

While qm is still writing
I propose a custom MS to plan for in the future
THE DOGG

>>5415811
He's the Dogg now, man

>>5415811
That looks awesome, anon. Almost done writing.

>>5415811
Considering we're starting from the beginning we have plenty of choices. If we manage to hold any sway with the military we need to unfuck Zeon's MS production.

>>5415825
there are a LOT of things that need unfucking in zeon

>>5415827
Understatement. Depending on how far this gets away from canon I don't think we can change the outcome of the OYW but we can definitely put ourselves in an advantageous post war position.

>>5415642
>>5415660
>>5415738
“Is there somewhere else on the colony that we could hide until Ms. Hamon and Ramba’s plan is ready?” You ask, looking up to Jimba hoping there’s something he just hasn’t thought of yet.

“Please, Jimba, if there’s anything at all that you can think of now is the time.” Your mother pleads, “We can deal with hardship, even if it takes months. Anywhere at all.”

The old man’s expression darkens, “Hide from the Zabis? Maybe for a few hours, but their men are everywhere now.”

“So there’s nothing?” Your mother asks again, “Really nothing at all?”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” Jimba responds sharply, his face darkening as he furrows his brow and takes a seat at his mahogany desk, “...I don’t know anybody who moves people, at least not usually, I’ve always made sure to run that kind of business off. But there is an arms dealer who might be able to hide you for a few weeks.”

“An… arms dealer? Legal, or…?” You mother asks apprehensively, and Jimba lets the question hang for a moment as he pours himself a drink from a crystal decanter on his desk.

“No. Not at all.” He finally answers, “Couldn’t trust most of the big companies, not with federation restrictions on our security forces. Anaheim or Yashima would have been too loud. Well, maybe not Anaheim, but we didn't go with them. The Zabis handled most of it, and we tried to keep the manufacturing that we could within Munzo, but I’ve always kept a… private collection, of sorts.”

The machine guns and rockets! Things finally start to click in your head, although a lot more questions are raised.

“Can we trust this person?” Casval asks, “They sound like scoundrel.”

“He is a scoundrel, it’s why the thought hadn’t occurred to me until now. I don’t associate him with safety, but he’s always been reliable in his own way. Federation intelligence doesn’t even seem to know he exists, and I don’t think the Zabis ever caught wind of him either.”

“So we’d trust our lives to a criminal? The lives of my children?” You mother asks incredulously, “Maybe this is-”

“You asked for anything, Astraia, this is anything.” Jimba cuts her off, “I think he might still be in the colony, his last delivery was just a few weeks ago…”

>>5415840
“And he’d be able to hide us?” Casval asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if he’d even take the job, but he’d know how to keep things out of sight of the Zabis.” Ramba finishes his drink and pours another, mulling over the idea a little longer, “Eh, maybe it is a terrible idea. I don’t know, really. Usually other people handled things like this, Ramba and his girl Hamon, and more often we didn’t do it at all. You know how Deikun was about those kinds of things, Astraia.”

“So we hide under the Zabis noses, or we hide with a criminal who might betray us.” You say, stating the obvious aloud, not at all feeling reassured. Everything is just so uncertain. If something goes wrong you could all… best not to think about that.

“And just leaving on our own? What you mentioned earlier, Jimba, the more dangerous option?” Your mother questions.

“We’d drive as far as we can, as fast as we can, and the men I have left would try to get us the rest of the way. The Zabis have the ports locked down, it would be bloody.”

That does sound bad.

>Casval’s plan. Wait for Hamon and Ramba, however long that takes.
>Put your trust in the mysterious arms dealer. Maybe he can hide you until Hamon and Ramba are ready.
>Shoot your way out. Or rather have what’s left of Ramba men attempt to do so.

>>5415843
This is a hard one and I don't want to dip into meta knowledge but I know Hamon will eventually get us to Earth. However saying that, mysterbox.
>Put your trust in the mysterious arms dealer. Maybe he can hide you until Hamon and Ramba are ready.
Hopefully this doesn't result in us getting Casval killed.

>>5415843
>Casval’s plan. Wait for Hamon and Ramba, however long that takes.
Fuck it, might aswell make friends with Garma and the other kid

>>5415843
Minor correction, the third option should say:
>Shoot your way out. Or rather have what's left of Ramba and Jimba's men attempt to do so.

>>5415851
Casval dying early would be an incredibly chaotic divergence, it would almost entirely rewrite UC Gundam.

>>5415853
>Spoiler
I know, which is why I'm apprehensive of such a major disruption. I don't exactly want to pick up the mask in his place. However saying that, I think I will change my vote and follow the established story a bit longer.
>>5415851
>Casval's plan. Wait for Hamon and Ramba, however lonng that takes.

>>5415855
That does bring up the funny idea of Felix pretending to be Casval pretending to be Édouard Mass pretending to be Char Aznable pretending to be Quattro Bajeena. UC Gundam goes a little overboard with alternate identities.

>>5415872
It's false identities all the way down.

>>5415843
>Put your trust in the mysterious arms dealer. Maybe he can hide you until Hamon and Ramba are ready.
While dangerous, this could potentially be the only option to take back Zeon from the Zabis.

And I'm awake again, I can probably get an update or two done before I have to head off for classes.

>>5415855
>>5415852
Two for Casval's plan.

>>5415902
One for mysterious arms dealer.

Looks like sticking to Casval's plan wins. Writing.

>>5415855
>>5415852
“...Maybe going home is the best option, then.” You sigh, looking apologetically to Casval, “I was just hoping there was something else we didn’t know about yet.”

“It made sense to check, Felix, and we decided together.” He says, his blue eyes shining with pride despite the brotherly expression, “We’ll need to get ready to leave soon, the Zabis will be expecting us.”

“...I agree, the other options sound too dangerous, Jimba.” Your mother says, “Fighting or hiding with unknown criminals - I won’t risk it.”

Jimba’s head sinks into his hands and he groans in frustration, leaning over onto his desk. He looks absolutely defeated, but he doesn’t argue, “I’ll make sure Ramba knows, and see if there’s anything else I can still do.”

“Yay, we’re going home!” Artesia nearly shouts. You don’t think she quite understands the direness of what has been discussed, that cat of hers has had her awfully distracted. Maybe that’s for the best, she’s still too young to really comprehend what’s going on. In fact you aren’t sure if you really get what is happening, but these last few days have left you feeling more mature and… empty, in a way.

A few hours later

A helicopter arrived to pick you up from the Ral estate, an enclosed troop transport used by the Munzo security forces. It wasn’t a long flight, only a few minutes. Eventually the helicopter set you down back at the Deikun mansion, an imposing building of glass and concrete but far warmer on the interior, the home that you’ve grown up in…

There are people waiting for you just a little beyond the landing pad. Your mother and Casval are the first out of the helicopter, and you follow shortly but stop to help Artesia disembark. She’s not quite tall enough to comfortably make the drop from the open door onto the pad, but with a hand to steady her it isn’t so bad.

She beams at you, “Thanks, Felix!”

You ruffle her blond hair just a little, “Come on, Artesia.”

Turning back to the others, your mother has gone ahead beyond Casval and is speaking with a dark haired woman in a wheelchair. The dark haired woman is older looking, but something tells you that much of the aging and wrinkling of her face isn’t natural - she looks ill, her face resembling a slightly melted wax figure. Faintly, you remember seeing her before at the hospital you stayed at a few years ago. Roselucia. Your father’s legal wife. It wasn’t something mother and father brought up much, but you know that technically Roselucia owns the mansion and has merely allowed your family to stay there.

File: Roselucia.png (286 KB, 510x483)

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>>5416187
You move up alongside Casval, holding Artesia’s hand to comfort her. Your brother is watching the exchange between Roselucia and your mother intently, and he doesn’t seem pleased by the development at all.

“Is it bad?” You ask Casval, unable to quite hear what’s being said over the still dying sound of the helicopter’s turbines.

“It is. She hates us.” He states matter-of-factly, “All of us.”

Eventually you’re waved inside, and your mother and Roselucia disappear off into another room to have a longer discussion. A pair of men in suits watch over you and your siblings as you wait on a sofa, making the mansion feel more like a prison than your home. When your mother finally does return you can tell that she’s upset. She’s trying to hide it but unfortunately the last few days have given you plenty of practice in figuring out when she’s just putting on a strong face.

File: The Tower.png (214 KB, 398x273)

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>>5416189
“We won’t be staying here.” Your mother announces, “Roselucia has been… gracious enough to allow us to remain in the tower on the lake, however.”

“That old thing?” Artesia asks, looking puzzled.

“It will be alright, dear. It’s where your father did a lot of his best writing.” Your mother answers comfortingly, but you know full well that it has been largely abandoned for years now.

Some of the Zabi men stationed at the mansion help you to move what few things you brought with you from the helicopter and out to the isolated tower. There’s only a single long and narrow approach to the old stone tower, which resembles a structure from earth’s middle ages, and the entire thing is surrounded by water on every other side - A convenient and easily defensible prison. Damned Zabis.

Moving into the old tower doesn't take long. The thing was constructed by your father as a second home for isolated study, and it really shows. The interior is dusty and cold, with little in the way of decoration, and no pictures adorn the walls. It’s lifeless, disused. The Zabi men that helped you move your things stick around, apparently also your permanent guards. A few of them mill about in some of the lower rooms, and wherever you go they check in every so often. There’s almost no privacy at all.

Artesia sets down Lucifer in the , and the cat quickly finds its way under the old bed. You sigh, and set down your things; just some spare clothes and a few books. It looks like you’ll be here for a little while, at least until Ramba and Hamon’s plan happens. If it happens.

In the tower you’re usually together as a family, there really aren’t many places to go, but which sibling do you spend most of your time with?
>With Casval, discussing what to do about the Zabis in the future. You have to be careful to not be overheard.
>With Artesia. She needs someone to keep her distracted, and she’s been largely ignored these last few days in all the chaos.

>>5416190
>With Artesia. She needs someone to keep her distracted, and she’s been largely ignored these last few days in all the chaos.
She needs support, otherwise she might grow up to do something dumb like join the federation military and fall in love with a child soldier ace.

>>5416190
>With Artesia. She needs someone to keep her distracted, and she’s been largely ignored these last few days in all the chaos.
It's tempting to plot with Casval, but if we're able to ally Artesia we could convince her to stay with us on Zeon.

>>5416190
>With Artesia. She needs someone to keep her distracted, and she’s been largely ignored these last few days in all the chaos.

>>5416190
>>With Casval, discussing what to do about the Zabis in the future. You have to be careful to not be overheard.

>>5416200
>>5416204
>>5416205
Writing.

Back from classes now, should be able to finish writing and post fairly soon.

>>5416200
>>5416204
>>5416205
Minutes turn into hours, hours into days. Time passes by slowly within the isolated tower, just barely crawling along. There’s something dreary and oppressive about it all, not helped in the least by the armed guards on the lower levels. Artesia seems to be taking the confinement the worst, moping around from room to room and only occasionally playing with her cat Lucifer. It hurts to see her like this, normally she’s so bright and full of energy.

You resolve to make the stay the best it can be for her. It isn’t easy, but story by story and game by game you’re able to slowly coax her back into something resembling a better mood; it’s a good thing you took the books with you from the Ral estate, and you found she has an active enough imagination that it isn’t hard to entertain her. Casval never joins in, but a few briefly exchanged looks are all you need to know that he understands what you’re doing; for his part he seems to be transfixed by the view from one of the tower’s windows. The Zabi estate is just barely visible, far in the distance.

Though she still spends most of her time with you and your siblings, your mother has been busy pursuing her own odd business. She has started up a bit of a habit of speaking with some of the guards, who she seems to be able to get to be unusually chatty. You’re not sure what her plan is, but from what little you’ve overheard she sounds… fake, almost. Too cheery, too happy.

>>5416516
A few more days pass.

You’re sitting atop one of the beds alongside Artesia, reading one of the story books together, when your mother enters the room alongside Casval. She turns and peers back out into the very narrow hallways, checking both sides before fully backing into the room and closing the door shut quietly. You set the book town, and Artesia tilts her head slightly at your mother’s odd behavior.

“We need to talk,” Your mother says in almost a whisper, “Quietly. It is very important. Follow me.”

Sliding off of the bed, you follow your mother as she leads you back out of the room. There aren’t any guards in sight, but that usually doesn’t last long. Following close behind, you’re soon at the door of the tower’s sole bartizan. She leads you in and up a few steps, and then makes sure to close the door. This is easily the most secluded place in the castle, you can probably speak freely here.

“What is it?” Casval asks, keeping his voice low.

“I’ve gotten word from Ramba,” Your mother whispers, “Ms. Hamon will arrive tomorrow morning to take the three of you from here. They’ve secured transport to the space port and off the colony. You’ll be going to earth to stay with one of your fathers friends for awhile.”

“...The three of us?” You ask, your heart sinking, “You aren’t coming too?”

Your mother blinks away some tears, “No.”

Artesia immediately begins bawling, “W-what?! Why aren’t you coming with us? I don’t want to go to earth without you! I won’t go if you’re not coming with us, mommy!”

“I’m sorry, Artesia, I didn’t express myself clearly.” Your mother corrects herself, and exchanges a brief look with you and Casval before turning back to Artesia, “I’m going to join you later. I can’t go with you now, that’s all.”

Your heart sinks, you know exactly what that looks means. She’s telling Artesia a sweet lie to calm her, your mother really won’t be going with you. It suddenly feels difficult to breathe, but you manage to maintain your composure; You need to stay strong for Artesia. Casval again fixes his gaze out of one of the windows, glowering.

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>>5416520
“Then… when? When will you come? C’mon, when?” Artesia begs, grabbing at your mothers coat and hugging her.

“When you’ve become a good girl on Earth.”

“No, not like that!” Artesia shouts, “Promise right, or I won’t be a good girl!”

“Oh, dear.” Your mother moves over a little, pulling Artesia closer, “I’m sorry. Let’s do this, then. On earth you can see stars and other worlds in the sky. The biggest and roundest of them is the Moon. Count each time it shrinks down to half, grows thin, and then grows round again. When it does that one hundred times, that’s when I will come. So wait for me, alright?”

“The Moon will grow round one hundred times?” You little sister asks curiously.

“That’s right, one hundred times. Can you count that high?”

Artesia gives a little nod and starts counting, raising a tiny finger with each number, “One, two, three, four…”

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>>5416523
The next morning.

You’re awoken by a woman’s voice sounding over a loudspeaker from outside of the tower, “I am here to take custody of the three orphaned children of Zeon Zum Deikun, as a special mission for the Federation Munzo Garrison Force! Hand them over immediately!”

Your mother hurries you out of bed and down the stairs to the exit of the tower, stopping to hug all of you before sending you away - forever, possibly. You have to practically pull Artesia away from her, but she follows along behind you and Casval as he opens the door. Light pours into the tower, and you shield your eyes for a moment. A tall, attractive blond woman in a federation officers uniform stands in front of you. Looming behind her, impossible to miss, is the massive armored bulk of a Federation Guntank.

“You’re Miss Hamon?” Casval asks the uniformed woman uncertainly, the three of you keeping close together.

“Good, then you understand.” She answers with a grin, “I am.”

A wave of relief washes over you, and you can’t help but smile back. This plan might actually work!

“Go on, climb aboard!” The disguised Hamon shouts, motioning with her hand toward the Guntank. Behind you, the Zabi guards assigned to the house are a confused mess, babbling and and panicked, some trying to contact authorities over a radio to confirm what’s going on - None of them intervene however, clearly terrified of the tank Ms. Hamon brought with her.

You help Artesia climb up the ladder on the side of the Guntank’s hull, and then down through one of the hatches; the interior is covered in all sorts of switches and screens, and different machine parts that you don’t understand the use of - Climbing a ladder to the the head of the Guntank, you’re soon within the gunnery position in the head. A sort of cockpit, as it were, though the actual driving of the tank is handled by crew down below in the main hull - Ms. Hamon and a pair of particularly nervous looking federation soldiers she brought with her will be handling that.

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>>5416533
Casval presses a button on one of the panels nearby and the cockpit opens up, allowing you to see your mother waving at you from atop the tower. You wave back as the Guntank’s combustion engine roars to life and it begins to rumble away, looking back toward your mother for as long as you can before she finally falls out of sight as the Guntank enters the nearby streets. Tall, colorful apartment buildings block your view of the tower. You never see it again.

The head of the Guntank closes back up, the armored plates and glass viewscreen sealing with a hiss of air, and a few moments later Ms. Hamon appears from the hatch just behind the gunnery control seat.

“Here are your changes of clothes. They’re a little grungy but don’t make a fuss, okay?” She says, dropping off a duffle bag on the floor before disappearing back down into the lower hull. You and your siblings quickly get changed; You and Casval look somewhat normal if a bit dirty, with old coats and hats, but Artesia has been given a baggy purple witches outfit complete with a pointed hat for… some reason. It’s a little odd, but you just go along with it.

There’s an explosion outside, and the guntank wobbles a bit as it rolls over a row of civilian cars in the city streets. You’re actually speeding up! The Guntank is driving erratically, ever more so as it gains speed, swerving about and taking corners sharply. You hold onto a handle nearby with on hand and Artesia with your other as the huge vehicle clips a pair of buildings before correcting its course, dust and masonry flying all about the armored glass viewport for a moment before clearing up. What is Ms. Hamon thinking?!

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>>5416539
This goes on for a few minutes, the far end of the colony and the spaceport growing closer every second as the Guntank practically crashes its way through the city, but eventually it comes screeching to a halt. Ahead of you a wide avenue are three Federation Guntanks forming a blockade.

“What are those?” Artesia asks.

“The enemy.” Casval answers, “My enemy, your enemy, the enemy of everyone.”

Your guntank’s torso is already swiveling to face the leftmost of the opposing guntanks in the blockade, probably Ms. Hamon's doing. A button begins to glow and beep faintly on the gunner’s chair that you and Casval are sitting in, and as you lean down you see that it’s labeled “Master Arm.”

Oh. Well, it’s pretty obvious what that does. Casval presses the button, and a set of joysticks with red triggers and various buttons rise from the control console in front of you both.

“It can be fired from up here, too…” Casval says, reaching for the firing controls.

>Assist Casval with gunnery as best you can. It looks like you have to fight your way out of this. The controls look easy to use.
>”Casval, what are you doing?!” Attempt to dissuade your brother from this madness, Ms. Hamon and the soldiers can handle this. You hope.

>>5416547
>”Casval, what are you doing?!” Attempt to dissuade your brother from this madness, Ms. Hamon and the soldiers can handle this. You hope.
>"What happened to father's peace? Don't be the one to shoot first brother."

>>5416547
This >>5416549

>>5416547
>>Assist Casval with gunnery as best you can. It looks like you have to fight your way out of this. The controls look easy to use.
Anon please, let's not be a Shinji.

>>5416561
Casval goes too far in rage. This is not being afraid, this is him shooting first and making the situation worse, one of the things that starts the fights between him and Asteria.

>>5416547
>”Casval, what are you doing?!” Attempt to dissuade your brother from this madness, Ms. Hamon and the soldiers can handle this. You hope.

>>5416569
And for why He is making things worse, Dozle ordered these guy to not shot the guntank because we are in here. But then Casval start shooting, and the Zabi soldiers decide to ignore their orders and return fire.

>>5416547
>>Assist Casval with gunnery as best you can. It looks like you have to fight your way out of this. The controls look easy to use.

>>5416547
>”Casval, what are you doing?!” Attempt to dissuade your brother from this madness, Ms. Hamon and the soldiers can handle this. You hope.
We are outnumbered, let's not draw our gun(tank).

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>>5416549
>>5416560
>>5416574
>>5416599
Attempt to dissuade.

>>5416561
>>5416594
Fire.

Attempt to dissuade wins. Writing.

>>5416639
Ffs

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>>5416549
>>5416560
>>5416574
>>5416599
“Casval, what are you doing?!” You nearly shout at your brother as he grips the firing controls, a murderous glint in his eyes, “What happened to father’s peace?”

The mention of father seems to snap him back to reality, and he relaxes his grip on the controls momentarily as he speaks, “They’re in our way, Felix! What if they shoot first?”

Casval motions to the viewport and the row of federation Guntanks blocking the street maybe a hundred and fifty meters away; It looks like their main cannons are pointed at you, but it’s hard to tell their precise angles. One of the sensor readouts nearby begins emitting a warning message in a calm female monotone, “Laser warning… Laser warning….”

You gulp, suspecting what the warning means, “Well, they haven’t yet. And it’s wrong to shoot first!”

“Laser warning… Laser warning…”

“Felix, what does that laser thingy mean?” Artesia asks, grabbing tightly onto your arm and sounding distressed.

Faint, muffled shouting from the lower hull can be heard through the metal hatch on the floor. Hamon must be arguing with the soldiers.

“They’re targeting us right now!” Casval protests, his grip tightening on the controls. His eyes narrow once again as he directs his full attention back to the guntanks.

>Oh crap, what if they do fire first? That warning is really ominous! Maybe now isn’t the time for the moral high ground… [Fire]
>Try to stop him, maybe he’ll still listen, try to hold him back physically if you have to.
>Write-in?

>>5416673
Huh, didn't know italics would interrupt greentext. Interesting.

>>5416673
>If we shot first we take down one at most and the other two will take us down. If we don't shoot first, then there atleast the the chance they won't Casval!

>>5416673
>>Oh crap, what if they do fire first? That warning is really ominous! Maybe now isn’t the time for the moral high ground… [Fire]
I'm still going with the shoot first option.

>>5416673
>Try to stop him, maybe he’ll still listen, try to hold him back physically if you have to.
And say something like >>5416677 suggested

>>5416677
By the way, I just want to see what would happen if we break canon this early on, we been just protesting but following the tracks so far.
We will be safe if Casval shoots, he is a born ace.

>>5416677
>>5416689
Writing.

>>5416677
>>5416689

You try to ignore Artesia’s growing panic and the laser warning system for just a moment, and place a hand on Casval’s shoulder in a last bid to convince him to stop.

“Casval, please, if we shoot first maybe we take down one of them - at most.” You plead, hoping he’ll listen to reason, “That still leaves the other two aiming right at us, think about it for a second. We have to be smarter than just fighting blindly!”

“You don’t know that, Felix.” Your brother shakes his head, pushing you away forcefully with one hand before returning to grip the fire controls, “I have to do this, for both of you…”

It feels like time freezes, outside of the cockpit ceasing to exist as you watch your brother’s index fingers slowly tighten around the red firing triggers. Your eyes widen in shock, he’s really going to do it. Something within you stirs into action, and you shove your hands forward, leaning your whole upper body into the sudden jarring motion, and knock Casval’s hands from the controls. The guns stay silent.

Artesia screams, falling back a few feet and to the floor as you move so unexpectedly, and Casval shouts angrily as he starts to fight back and grabs at your hands. Both of you struggle in and over the gunner’s seat for a few seconds, eventually falling to the floor in a blur of motion. At some point something hits you in the nose, your vision blurring, and you strike back.

“Felix! Casval! Stop it, please!” Artesia screams, horrified at what she's witnessing.

“Get off of me!” Your brother protests angrily, and in a blur you feel something strike your face again. It finally clicks in your mind that he’s not only a little bigger and older than you, but slightly faster as well, and your moment of surprise is quickly wearing off. The next few moments are even more of a blur of limbs and striking, and at the end of it you find yourself separated from Casval, both of you half kneeling on opposite sides of the cockpit with the gunnery seat and controls just between you.

>>5416950
You wipe a sleeve against your nose, a trail of bright crimson coming away with it, and you can practically hear your own heartbeat as you stare at your brother. He’s a bit bruised up as well, but not as badly, and he looks absolutely furious. Artesia is keeping her distance from both of you, sort of half hiding behind the back of the tall gunner’s seat, her frightened blue eyes and purple hat just barely poking out to look at you.

The guntank suddenly lurches, sending you and Casval sprawling over again onto the hard metal floor. Ow. There’s a series of loud thumps outside of the cockpit. The guns?! You and Casval both rush to stand up, moving back to the controls and center of the viewport to try and see what’s going on outside - The Guntank is definitely moving again, but there’s seemingly smoke everywhere ahead of you… And you’re driving right into it!

You exchange glances with your brother, who seems equally confused.

“What’s going on?” You ask aloud, “Where’d the other gu-”

You’re stop talking as the massive silhouette of one of the blockading Guntanks rolls out of the bank of smoke, the glass of its main viewport briefly catching in the light before your own vehicle suddenly swerves once again, rushing past its side as you continue to gain speed.

“They’re trying to push right through the blockade!” Casval cries out excitedly, raising a fist victoriously, "It's working!"

There’s more faint thuds outside, and you catch a brief glimpse of black cylinders launching overhead and in front of the guntank; some disappear into the already laid smoke, but others seem to just pop into huge, billowing gray clouds.

“They didn’t hold in a line! Haha, we're going to make it!” You practically think aloud, realizing that’s the only way you could’ve made it past part of the blockade and unable to hold in your elation. One of the federation soldiers must have panicked and advanced when your guntank started moving again and firing its smoke launchers; they must be really disorganized to do something like that, even a kid like you knows they could have just sat sti-

A cannon goes off near the cockpit, the smoke clearly briefly around the muzzle blasts as one of the enemy guntanks opens fire blindly. It misses, barely, a pair of explosions half collapsing a small office building to your guntank’s left - rubble and smoke fly all about, but you’re already rumbling past it. The federation being disorganized and panicky isn’t all upsides, it seems!

>>5416952
A few seconds later and you’re already exiting the most recently launched smoke clouds, the street ahead of you fully visible again - There are no guntanks in the way anymore, they must all be behind you now. There’s another pair of shots from behind you, even more off target, and the front of a yellow building a ways ahead of you down the street disappears in a flash of fire and smoke. A few pedestrians are silhouetted briefly, but when the smoke clears they’re nowhere to be seen and nearby cars are burning wrecks. Your blood runs cold. You stopped Casval from shooting first, but people are still dying.

Your brother glares at you and slides back into the seat, but he still leaves a space for you to join him as he leans forward to work the controls. The torso of your guntank slowly spins to face backwards toward the smoke clouds and enemy guntanks firing at your escape…

>Assist Casval. Father never spoke against self-defense, and you need to get away safely!
>Let your brother handle this, Artesia looks like she might have gotten hurt during one of those falls and you should help her..

I'm proud to have been able to present the two most recurring plot points in UC gundam in these posts: Federation incompetence and Zeon infighting.

>>5416955
>Assist Casval. Father never spoke against self-defense, and you need to get away safely!
I really hoped Dozle would be able to stop his men from fucking up, but it seems I gave to much credit to a Zabi.
Well, time for the gloves to come off.

>>5416955
>Let your brother handle this, Artesia looks like she might have gotten hurt during one of those falls and you should help her..
Have to make sure our little sister is all right.

>>5416955
>>Assist Casval. Father never spoke against self-defense, and you need to get away safely!
>Spoiler
It really is a wonder how either managed to survive so long.

>>5416955
Oh, and I think you did a fantastic job showing that the federation and zeon will always manage to find a way to make a mess. It's a good lesson to take to heart.

>>5416955
>>Assist Casval. Father never spoke against self-defense, and you need to get away safely!
Now that we've established that we're on the side of the angels...

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>>5416957
>>5416962
>>5416980
Returning fire! Writing.

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>>5416957
>>5416962
>>5416980

You slide into the seat alongside Casval and don’t waste any time, taking control of one of the joysticks controlling the weapons; yours seems to control the guntank’s arms, while Casval still has command over torso rotation and the main cannons. You give the controls a little test wiggle, and the independent crosshair for the arm guns drifts across the HUD projected over the viewscreen. With your brief moment of familiarization with the controls over, you start scanning for targets.

The first presents itself quickly, one of the enemy guntanks having backed out of the smoke rather than correcting its direction; its torso has twisted to face you, but it’s crawling after you at an achingly slow pace as it moves in reverse. You slew the crosshair onto the lower hull, a steadier target than the upper body, taking careful aim - Casval fires the main guns before you get a chance to open up, and for a briefest moment you see a faint silhouette of the pair of shells in flight, just a pair of little black blurs that are gone as soon as you notice them. Explosions rock the enemy guntank’s main body, one of its arms flying off as the armored plating is perforated and completely buckles in multiple places as the titanium armor breaks near its welds - It almost looks like half of the vehicle is disassembling itself, bits of fire and metal spewing out of it violently.

You pull the trigger, letting off a stream of armor piercing autocannon rounds into the weak rear armor of the lower hull, little flashes dancing across the metal like a sewing machine over cloth, eventually catching one of its tracks and chewing it into so much scrap metal with concentrated fire. The guntank, thoroughly ruined in a matter of seconds, spins entirely out of control and only manages to avoid crashing into a nearby building due to its slow reverse speed.

The other two guntanks makes themselves known a few seconds later, facing forward properly as they charge out through the smoke firing all of their weapons, arm guns scoring a series of hits on your own vehicle and sending impossibly loud clangs echoing through its interior. You wince, ducking slightly out of instinct as the flashes of impact briefly strike near the viewscreen, but Casval is already lining up a shot and returning fire - He takes the head off of the lead federation vehicle with a pair of roaring cannon blasts, leaving behind a ruined stump of burning metal and shattered glass, and something detonates in the interior near one of its main cannons. There’s a brief gout of flame shooting a dozen meters into the air from a hatch, and then a bright flash as the struck guntank just… ceases to be from the lower hull upward. Your own guntank’s viewscreen dims significantly to keep from blinding you with the intensity of the explosion.

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>>5417076
The street is an absolute ruin, a mix of rubble, flipped and burning cars, and scattered smoking bits of the guntank’s upper body. The lower hull isn’t moving anymore, a roaring inferno soaring into the sky from where the upper body used to connect to it. The third guntank hasn’t slowed though, its main cannons flashing as they discharge - There’s a horribly moment of fear that sweeps over you as an explosion fills the viewscreen, and a clang louder than anything you’ve every heard reverberates through your entire vehicle. You exhale sharply, realizing with a shock that you’re still alive. The armor held.

Casval begins lining up his next shots, and you once again slew the arm guns into position, settling the orange crosshair on the left track of the last enemy guntank - it worked before, no reason to stop now. A steady, rattling burst sees the track set free as bits of twisted metal fly about here and there among flashing incendiary detonations, and the enemy vehicle swerves - This one does plow into one of the buildings along the side of the street, embedding deeply in it before fully coming to a stop. It's harmless now. Casval fires anyways, striking the back of its upper body. You wince as two huge holes appear in the thinner armor, smoke billowing from them, but there’s no catastrophic explosion this time…

Behind your seat, Artesia is absolutely crying her eyes out, “Casval! Felix! A-all those poor people! Stop it!”

You stop immediately, not having wanted to resort to violence to begin with, but Casval keeps an eye on the viewscreen for a moment longer before swiveling the upper body back to facing your guntank’s direction of travel down the long road to the space port.

Artesia grabs at your sleeve, crying and speaking almost incoherently, and you get out of the chair and do your best to try and comfort her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“It’s okay, Artesia, it’s over.” You try to console her, “There won’t be any more fighting. Nobody is going to get hurt anymore.”

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>>5417079
The guntank continues to rumble its way down the road for a few more minutes, crushing abandoned cars all the way, until eventually a very unwelcome sight comes into view - another federation blockade about two kilometers away, a staggered row of five guntanks and half a dozen conventional tanks with twin cannons… You definitely can’t fight that. The space port isn’t all that far now though, looming across the entire sky in the distance…

The hatch in the floor opens and Ms. Hamon sticks her head up through it, her federation officers cap now missing. “We’re abandoning the vehicle! Come on, quickly now, we need to get out immediately!”

Casval goes first down the ladder, and then Artesia, and finally you - You aren’t going to leave your little sister to climb down last. Now down in the main hull you continue to follow Ms. Hamon, who has opened an exterior hatch that leads out onto the main body of the still moving guntank. It’s moving much slower, but that’s a small comfort. Smoke is billowing from the impacts along the body of the guntank where it was struck earlier, making it difficult to see or breathe, and you cough a few times as you guide Artesia along behind Casval and Ms. Hamon.

“Come on! I have it set to auto-control, it should keep driving forward! The smoke will cover our escape. Move it, come on!” Hamon shouts, waving you to the very back of the vehicle.

Hamon jumps down to the ground below, staggering a bit but managing to keep on her feet. Casval jumps a moment later, and then Artesia - Casval and Ms. Hamon catch her together. You jump down immediately afterward, a little less gracefully than you planned, but other than a few new scrapes to go along with the bruises from earlier you’re fine.

Ms. Hamon quickly leads you off the street and into a nearby alleyway, and your little group continues at a slow jog for a few minutes. Behind you, there’s a roar of dozens of cannons and a colossal explosion which nearly sends you all to the ground again - The federation blockade must have fired on the guntank. You gulp and break out into a cold sweat, knowing that you’d be dead if you had tried to fight. Your hands shake slightly, but you get it under control as you hold Artesia’s hand to guide her along. She’s practically having to run to keep up with the rest of you, the poor thing.

Eventually you stop at along a small side street, Ms. Hamon carefully reading the street signs, “...This is the place. Ramba should be here soon, we just have to wait a little while.”

Sure enough, a blue armored car drives past slowly about a minute and a half later, and Ms. Hamon hails it down with an almost comical, “Hey, Taxi!”

The armored car’s window rolls down, revealing a tired but relieved looking Ramba Ral, “Where are you headed, miss?”

You snicker a bit at the absurdity of the exchange and get in the car with the others.

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>>5417081
A few minutes later.

The drive went by quickly, a single armored car easily slipping through the many holes in the federation security blockades that are hastily being established across the city. Artesia had some small cuts from falling inside of the guntank, and one of Ramba’s men helps you apply some small bandages. There’s a brief stop at a warehouse where you transfer into a nondescript cargo container - the interior is cushioned and has survival supplies, and Jimba Ral is in there as well! It seems the haggard looking old man will be leaving with you and your siblings to go to earth. You can feel the cargo crate being lifted and then set down again, and then a faint acceleration - they must have loaded you onto a truck or something.

The next twenty minutes are filled with tension, every bump and scrape of the crate as it is moved from the truck and into what must be the cargo port filling your mind with wild ideas. You can’t see anything, and you can barely hear anything but have to remain absolutely quiet regardless. Artesia’s cat almost gets you discovered once by meowing constantly, but it ultimately amounts to nothing but a bad scare. Still, every movement or bump could be the precursor to Zabi goon ripping the crate open and capturing you… or maybe your nerves are just a little frayed from the fighting earlier. You haven’t had much time to process that yet, truth be told. People died, and you’re responsible. The thought doesn’t sit well with you at all.

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>>5417082
Eventually you’re pretty sure that your crate has been loaded onto a cargo ship and that you’re under way, the feeling of acceleration growing and then remaining constant like the tug of gravity. After exchanging brief looks with Casval you know what has to be done. You both reach for the crate’s release lever, and one of its sides falls away with a hiss.

“No, it’s still to early!” Jimba protests, but you’re greeted with the sight of sterile rows of stacked cargo within an otherwise barren cargo bay. It’s completely safe, he’s just being paranoid. The acceleration of the vessel slows, and you feel yourself suddenly become weightless as the reality of microgravity sets it. It feels… natural.

“W-why am I floating?” Artesia asks, waving her arms around as she tries to right herself.

“There isn’t gravity in space,” You explain, kicking lightly off the plating below you and floating over to help her.

“Come on, both of you.” Casval says, waving you toward a gap in the crates nearby.

Aha! There it is, a window. Ms. Hamon told you there’d be quite the view from the ship, that you could see Earth and the Sun from where you’d be on the ship. Before you lies an inky black void, dotted with a million million tiny lights - a beautiful sea of stars, the brightest and largest of which you immediately recognize as the sun. The exterior of the colony is also visible, along with a few cargo vessels moving in and out of the port.

It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“It’s amazing!” Artesia exclaims.

“This… this is space?” You brother Casval asks in wonder, peering intently through the small window.

You say nothing, unable to put your feeling of awe into words.

Artesia nearly jumps in excitement as she spots something, pressing a tiny finger against the glass as she points, “Casval, Felix, look! It’s so pretty!”

A tiny blue orb hangs in the distance, a beautiful world utterly unlike anything else in the darkness of space.

“That must be the earth!” Casval states, leaning in closer.

“Earth?” Artesia questions, “That’s earth? The place we’re going?”

“That’s right, Artesia.” You say, trying to get a better view.

“It’s blue and beautiful but humans have polluted it,” Casval explains to her, “That’s why spacenoids were driven away from there and came into space.”

…The journey goes by quickly, too quickly, the three of you discussing each new sight as it presents itself before the tiny window.

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>>5417083

Several years later.

“O people of space! Now is the time to awaken! To realize your latent potential! We are at the dawn of a transformation of mankind. A true enlightenment of the human race. And we may finally be poised, ready to transcend what has always been thought of as the impossible- infinite space, and time itself.”
-Zeon Zum Deikun, UC 0065

1:00 PM, 14 July, UC 0071
Teabolo estate, Andalusia, Spain

The last few years have been peaceful. Teabolo Mass, a wealthy man and close friend of your late father, adopted you and your siblings shortly after you arrived on earth with Jimba. You’ve lived in Teabolo’s villa, really more of a castle, in Andalusia for the last three years, and assumed new names as a precaution against Zabi plots. Artesia is now known as Sayla, Casval has taken the name Édouard, and you are Maxime. Jimba has grown strange over the years, turning more and more paranoid, but the old man still lives with you despite his regular disappearances on business.

Over the past three years you’ve grown and learned a lot. You and Casval, or rather "Édouard," are notably quite tall and athletic for your age but still just eleven and twelve years old respectively. You adoptive father Teabolo has provided for your every need, and your education provided by private instructors has been excellent and well ahead of what even some of the best regarded private schools back in Side 3, now known as the Republic of Zeon after the Zabis changed the name, could have provided.

The sun is still high in the sky, many hours of daylight left; what is it that you’re doing?
>You’re out with Sayla helping tend to some of the sick people in a refugee camp nearby. There’s an international charity running the place and it’s actually quite safe; you’ve grown closer to Artesia and really learned to connect with strangers over the last few years as you’ve helped around the camp.
>You’re with Édouard in the courtyard, practicing shooting. Not with actual firearms, though Mr. Teabolo does have a few of those and you’ve had occasion to fire them, but instead with a pair of high powered air rifles. You’ve really bonded as brothers, though you often have different ways of doing things.

>>5417084
Apologies for the absolute monster of a post, anons. I felt that the pacing was dragging a bit and wanted to move things along to when you should have some more agency as a character, though all these early decisions were still super helpful for establishing Felix's personality and a few minor changes to the timeline. Hopefully you all still enjoyed the read!

>>5417084
>You’re with Édouard in the courtyard, practicing shooting.
>>5417087
>Spoiler
I think the pacing was fine but it was a good place to do a time skip. I'm enjoying it a bunch, and you're doing pretty great so far.

A shame we didn't take back Zeon yet

>>5417084
>You’re out with Sayla helping tend to some of the sick people in a refugee camp nearby. There’s an international charity running the place and it’s actually quite safe; you’ve grown closer to Artesia and really learned to connect with strangers over the last few years as you’ve helped around the camp.
Still think we should be close to her, we might be able to dissuade her from making certain 'interesting' decisions.

>>5417087
Don't worry about it OP, this quest is pretty good.

>>5417084
>You’re with Édouard in the courtyard, practicing shooting. Not with actual firearms, though Mr. Teabolo does have a few of those and you’ve had occasion to fire them, but instead with a pair of high powered air rifles. You’ve really bonded as brothers, though you often have different ways of doing things.

>>5417084
>You’re out with Sayla helping tend to some of the sick people in a refugee camp nearby. There’s an international charity running the place and it’s actually quite safe; you’ve grown closer to Artesia and really learned to connect with strangers over the last few years as you’ve helped around the camp.
We need to be a "moderating" influence.

>>5417084
>You’re out with Sayla helping tend to some of the sick people in a refugee camp nearby. There’s an international charity running the place and it’s actually quite safe; you’ve grown closer to Artesia and really learned to connect with strangers over the last few years as you’ve helped around the camp.
Great to be able to catch a vote again

>>5417164
+1

No need to worry qm.
The update was great!

>>5417084
>>You’re with Édouard in the courtyard, practicing shooting. Not with actual firearms, though Mr. Teabolo does have a few of those and you’ve had occasion to fire them, but instead with a pair of high powered air rifles. You’ve really bonded as brothers, though you often have different ways of doing things.

>>5417084
>You’re out with Sayla helping tend to some of the sick people in a refugee camp nearby. There’s an international charity running the place and it’s actually quite safe; you’ve grown closer to Artesia and really learned to connect with strangers over the last few years as you’ve helped around the camp.

>>5417090
>>5417196
>>5417367
Three for practicing with Édouard.

>>5417164
>>5417222
>>5417239
>>5417341
>>5417372
Five for helping Sayla.

Sayla wins. Writing.

Thank you for the kind words, anons.

File: Sayla.png (247 KB, 502x464)

247 KB PNG

>>5417164
>>5417222
>>5417239
>>5417341
>>5417372
The summer sun hangs high overhead, a small breeze drifting through the rows of makeshift brown and blue tents that make up the refugee camp; some are simple tarps, others are sheets of canvas, and only a handful were actually meant for disaster relief.

You are standing just outside of one such tent, rummaging through a backpack of supplies trying to find the right kind of bandage. Sayla is about a meter and a half away, kneeling next to a gray bearded old man with an injured hand. She’s just about done inspecting the wound - It isn’t all that deep or you’d need to call over one of the actual medics to help, but there are plenty of nasty scrapes and cuts you can both still treat on your own.

Most of the people in the camp were displaced to the area by a Federation industrial project that flooded their towns. Official relief stopped a few months after the disaster, some people got shipped off to colonies but a lot of others just got left where they were without any real help. They have nowhere to go, and many have been here for years, and the most common issue is illness and lack of food - But there are still plenty of more immediately treatable issues to go around like this old man's hand.

“Where is it?...” You mutter to yourself, shifting around some of the other supplies in the bag, “They really need to organize these packs better, almost feel like we’re being sabotaged...”

“We can get this fixed right up, sir.” Sayla says to the old man cheerfully before glancing back over to you, “Find it yet, Maxime?”

“Almost, I think.” You say, having finally found some bandages, if not the right kind, “I’m going to want to talk to Georgi when we get back, this pack almost feels like it was purposefully put together to be confusing.”

Artesia gives a little snort at your comment, “He’s been busy, cut him some slack. It can’t be that bad.”

“...I guess not.” You say, raising the thin and nondescript foil bandage package in mock triumph as soon as you find it, “There we go.”

You hand it over and Sayla gets to work, tending to the old man. A few others in the camp are crowded around, watching. From their faces you can tell some are probably waiting for help as well. You’re both familiar faces around the camp by now, with or without the arm bands marking you as volunteers.

“It’s hard to believe you’re both so young. I’m sure you’ll grow up to be a great doctor someday, Miss.” The old man says in appreciation as Sayla finishes, “Thank you so much.”

Sayla stands up and is positively beaming, “I’m just happy we could help.”

You help some of the others for the next few minutes, a few more cuts and scrapes. To your eye a few of the injuries on some of the kids close to your age look like they came from fights, but it’s nothing serious. You sigh, hoping it isn’t from abuse.

>>5417404
Where are you off to next?

>Deliver medicine to some of the sick, make a quick report to Georgi, and then head back to your adoptive father Teabolo’s villa. Jimba was lecturing Édouard last you saw, which can last for hours. Maybe you should give him some company as relief from the old man's ranting.

>Ask around a bit about if there have really been fights. You’re not going to try to solve the problem yourself or anything, at least probably not, but if it's more serious than you thought it should get reported to somebody who can deal with it.

>Off to complain to Georgi, of course! He keeps changing things without telling you and it really slows things down. You need to stop by anyways, but with some luck you might bump into his daughter Elena again while you’re there on a longer visit. She’s always nice to see.

>>5417408
>>Off to complain to Georgi, of course! He keeps changing things without telling you and it really slows things down. You need to stop by anyways, but with some luck you might bump into his daughter Elena again while you’re there on a longer visit. She’s always nice to see.

Supply issues could spread to other areas easily, it might be best to head these off.

>>5417404
>Ask around a bit about if there have really been fights. You’re not going to try to solve the problem yourself or anything, at least probably not, but if it's more serious than you thought it should get reported to somebody who can deal with it.
Plot hook!

>>5417408
>Ask around a bit about if there have really been fights. You’re not going to try to solve the problem yourself or anything, at least probably not, but if it's more serious than you thought it should get reported to somebody who can deal with it.

>>5417422
>>5417454
Writing.

>>5417422
>>5417454

As you’re tightening the straps on your backpack and getting ready to head off with Sayla, you just can’t quite shake the thought that something wrong is going on here. The cuts and bruises on the kids weren’t that bad, and it might just have been from messing around, but you decide to ask about it anyways.

“Sayla, hold up for a second, okay?” You ask your sister, scanning around to see where some of the kids got off too. They’re probably about your age, give or take a year or two, but almost all of them are still smaller than you. Something to do with a history of malnutrition, you’ve heard Georgi and some of the other doctors talk about it before when they had you handing out rations.

You spot a couple of the kids in a group, already wandering off back into the depths of the sprawling camp.

“Hmm? What is it?” Sayla questions, stepping closer.

“Some of the injuries looked like they came from fights, those bloody knuckles the one had,” You explain, “I’m going to ask around a bit and see if it’s anything we should do something about.”

“You really think so? It did look a little odd.” She says, narrowing her blue eyes as she considers things, “I’ll help.”

“Thanks, Sayla. They like you more anyways,” You say with a shrug, glad to have a sister like her, “Come on.”

You both catch up with the group of kids quickly, they’re gathered near an old rusted burn barrel. They’re a bit dirty looking, wearing donated and patched clothes; you think you remember one of them from a previous trip into the camp… Luis. He’s a bit smaller than the rest, with short brown hair and wearing an oversized surplus federation army jacket that hangs down nearly to his knees.

“Hey, Luis.” You say, giving a small wave as you walk over, “Do you have a few minutes?”

“Uh, hi… Sure, I guess.” He says, looking more to Sayla than you. She gives a little wave as well and says hello, and Luis very quickly shifts his gaze to you as his cheeks turn a bit red.

“Are you doing alright?” Sayla asks, a few of the others in the group giving vague grunts of confirmation and nodding unconvincingly. They keep glancing off into the camp, between a few of the larger tents. Briefly you spot a blur of motion over there, but you don’t catch who it was they were looking at.

>>5417529
Luis rubs at one the baggy sleeves of his oversized jacket, hesitating nervously before speaking, “...Actually I’ve been better.”

“Oh?” You say, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“You can tell us, Luis. We’re just here to help.” Sayla urges him on.

“It’s, uhm, it’s Diego.” Luis says, his eyes flicking in the same direction as the others were looking a moment ago, “We tried to fight him.”

“What’d he do?” You ask.

“He was taking our food!” One of the other kids suddenly shouts, apparently finding his courage, “He’s a bastard, he just takes everything he wants.”

“And so you tried to stop him.” You conclude, “And… lost?”

“Yeah, he’s scary.” The tallest kid in the group says, “I thought he was going to kill us!”

“Kill you?” Sayla asks with a mix of worry and incredulity, “You weren’t hurt that bad. You aren’t hiding worse injuries are you? We can get a docto-”

Luis shakes his head, “N-no, no, we got away alright, mostly - but he had a pipe at the end and was screaming like an animal or something, he’s a freak!”

Well, that does sound worrying, but it could be a lot worse.

>Find Diego and talk with him. You don’t have the whole story, but he sounds dangerous. If push comes to shove you’ve fought before, but you'd prefer to talk this all out.
>Get Luis and the others some more raitons and then report to Georgi, maybe he’ll have something he can do about this. Violence in the camp is bad, even among kids, but it's not really your place to step in and solve things.
>Consult with Sayla, maybe she has a different read on the situation.

>>5417531
>>Find Diego and talk with him. You don’t have the whole story, but he sounds dangerous. If push comes to shove you’ve fought before, but you'd prefer to talk this all out.

>>5417531
>Find Diego and talk with him. You don’t have the whole story, but he sounds dangerous. If push comes to shove you’ve fought before, but you'd prefer to talk this all out.
>Get something to protect yourself just in case. Never bring fists to a pipe fight

>>5417531
>Consult with Sayla, maybe she has a different read on the situation.

>>5417531
>Consult with Sayla, maybe she has a different read on the situation.
Good to build up trust with our little sis, for when the war eventually happens.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5417533
>>5417534
Right to Diego.

>>5417535
>>5417545
Consult with Sayla.

Rolling it off to keep things moving. Diego is one, Sayla is two.

>>5417533
>>5417534

“I think maybe we should have a chat with Diego, Sayla.” You say, “Luis, could you describe him?”

“I can do better than that, man. H-he’s right over there!”, Luis stammers out, pointing toward the tents the group had been glancing nervously at a bit ago.

A dark haired boy just a little shorter than you is standing in the shadows between the pair of large tents. He’s skinny, and a bit better dressed than most of the other kids in the camp; his clothes more or less fit. A set of old tan fatigues, a slightly darker jacket, and brown boots - vaguely military looking but too small to have ever been part of a uniform. The details of his face aren’t all that clear from over here, but he’s definitely giving you one hell of a scowl.

“Oh. Oh no. Maxime, come on, don’t do anything dumb, please.” Sayla says, grabbing your hand as you stand a little straighter and squint your eyes to try and see Diego a little more clearly in the bright sunlight.

“We’re just going to talk, Sayla.” You reassure her, “Come on, it’ll be easier if we both go.”

“You’re crazy, man.” Luis says, chuckling nervously and backing away along with the others. Probably for the best, having the group go with you would just make things more tense.

“Promise me you’re not going to start something,” Sayla says stubbornly, tightening her grip as you start to take a step in the direction of the tents Diego is standing between.

“I promise I won’t start anything,” You say, reaching to your backpack briefly to confirm that your knife is still attached to its side. It’s a small fixed blade for helping around the camp, definitely not meant for fighting, but if somebody comes at you with a metal pipe then it’s better than nothing.

“No, not like that,” She protests, “You know what I mean, Maxime.”

You sigh and meet her eyes, “Sayla, I’m not going over there to provoke a fight either.”

She exhales and relaxes her grip, “Good.”

>>5417597
When you look back to Diego he’s not there anymore. Crap. In fact Luis and the other kids are gone now as well - You might be familiar with the camp but these kids live here, and they know when and how to bolt quickly.

“Where’d he go?” You ask aloud, hurrying along after Diego with Sayla. The path heading to the two large tents isn’t exactly busy, but you have to be careful not to bump into people going about their business.

“I think he went left?” Sayla answers, narrowly avoiding running into a man as he exits the front of a nearby tent.

As you pass by the two large tents you catch sight of Diego again, briefly, on a branching path leading toward the edge of the camp.

“I feel like this is a little aggressive!” Sayla says, running alongside you, “He must think we’re chasing him!”

“We are chasing him,” You correct her, realizing you’ve forgotten something very obvious while running after Diego, “He just doesn’t have the right idea about what we’re going to do when we catch him. Diego! Stop! We just want to talk!”

“Diego, hold up!” Sayla shouts as you keep moving, drawing the attention of people standing nearby, “We just want to talk!”

The game of briefly glimpsing him and then losing sight again continues for a while. It doesn't seem like he's going to stop, no matter how much you shout.

>Keep chasing him toward the edge of the camp. You really do just want to talk.
>Stop chasing. This isn’t how you wanted this to go down, and you’re not quite sure where he’s leading you.

>>5417599
>>Stop chasing. This isn’t how you wanted this to go down, and you’re not quite sure where he’s leading you.
Gut feeling, he's leading us into a less advantageous position and will probably attack us. I don't see a reason to charge headfirst into a pipe.

>>5417599
>Stop chasing. This isn’t how you wanted this to go down, and you’re not quite sure where he’s leading you.
Oh no, we are a dumb anime protag. Our painful death is sealed

>>5417613
>>5417603
Writing.

>>5417603
>>5417613

As you lose sight of Diego again, the edge of the camp growing closer and close as you rush down a narrow dirt path between drab tents, it becomes clear that this isn’t going to work. More than that, the way he's avoiding you is positively suspicious - He might be leading you into a trap. You put an arm out to your side as you slow down, signaling for Sayla to do the same.

“We’re giving up?” Sayla questions, slowing down alongside you and looking around the nearby tents more carefully.

“I have a bad feeling about where he’s leading us.” You say, voice low, “He’s letting us keep spotting him. It has to be on purpose.”

There are fewer people on this side of the camp, and the tents are less cared for. You’ve been to this side of the camp a few times before but never lingered long, the layout mostly a mystery to you. Usually you and Sayla keep closer to the doctor’s tents.

“It was pretty convenient…” Sayla mutters nervously, grabbing your hand again, “Maybe we should just leave and tell Georgi, we tried our best.”

A few of the refugees here are giving you strange looks, whispering to one another. You might have handed rations out to a few of them before, it’s hard to remember exactly, but they don’t seem all that enthused by your presence today. Running in shouting after somebody probably didn’t help with that…

>”Hey, mister, do you know where that kid was going? We’re trying to talk with him.” Ask one of the locals, maybe somebody knows where Diego lives and you can approach more carefully.
>”...You’re right, Sayla. I don’t think we’ll be able to talk to him today, not without trouble anyways.” Head back to Georgi to report, maybe he can do something.
>Write-in?

>>5417698
>”Hey, mister, do you know where that kid was going? We’re trying to talk with him.” Ask one of the locals, maybe somebody knows where Diego lives and you can approach more carefully.
>But what if he is in trouble sister? If he is just a bully like the other kids said, he wouldn't have run away when we came to talk to him.

>>5417698
>”...You’re right, Sayla. I don’t think we’ll be able to talk to him today, not without trouble anyways.” Head back to Georgi to report, maybe he can do something.
Yeah I'm not liking this. We're in an area we don't know surrounded by people who'll probably try to leverage us in some way.

>>5417698
>”...You’re right, Sayla. I don’t think we’ll be able to talk to him today, not without trouble anyways.” Head back to Georgi to report, maybe he can do something.
Comes with a side benefit of maybe getting to complain to him too.

Never seen any gundam, but this quest has been pretty cool so far and seems promising.

>>5417698
>>”...You’re right, Sayla. I don’t think we’ll be able to talk to him today, not without trouble anyways.” Head back to Georgi to report, maybe he can do something.

>>5417703
>>5417706
>>5417758
Writing.

Anons in this quest are a bunch of candy asses holy shit

>>5417758
>>5417706
>>5417703
>>5417703
>>5417706
>>5417758

“You’re right, Sayla.” You say, growing more wary of the situation you’ve found yourself in, “I don’t think we’ll be able to talk to him today, not without trouble anyways.”

Sayla squeezes your hand a little as she nods in agreement, “Let’s go back.”

It doesn’t take long to cross back through the refugee camp toward the side you’re more familiar with; Teabolo’s villa is on the hill in the same direction, a very clear landmark that dominates the skyline almost like a medieval castle looking down over an encamped army. Unfortunately reality is much less glorious than the stories you used to read to Sayla, and there’s nothing fantastical at all about the conditions of the camp. It’s cleaner than it could be, but still pretty filthy, and better supplied than it could be, but still always low. That’s the story here, day in and day out, aid workers struggling to keep the status quo let alone improve the situation.

Without Teabolo’s patronage it’s unlikely the improvement in conditions of the last year or so would have been possible, and you know Georgi and some of the other doctors helping organize things have been petitioning for Federation assistance in getting these people more permanent placements. It’s unlikely to happen, the Federation officially considers the crisis to be resolved after their previous intervention, but it isn’t impossible. Even just dumping them in the colonies might be better than this, though that would just leave them homeless in space instead of Spain, and wouldn’t do anything to get them their old homes back or all the years they lost.

Earth might be beautiful, but situations like this are absolutely rotten. It's exactly the kind of situation your father wanted to solve before the Zabis murdered him.

>>5417803
You pass beyond the last of the drab refugee tents and out of the camp, Just ahead of you, the white and red modular buildings the doctors and aid workers are based in stand out starkly among the dark earth tones at the base of the hill leading to Teabolo’s village. They’re ugly but functional buildings made of metal, repurposed military surplus from the Federation army. You pass by the clinic, waving to a few of the staff as they greet you and Sayla, and quickly make your way inside the main administrative building. It’s not much to look at, a white rectangle with a few windows and an automatic door.

The door hisses and slides to the side as you approach, shudders, makes a horrible metallic screeching noise, and then doesn’t open fully.

“This again?” You complain, sighing as you manually slide the door the rest of the way open. You motion for Sayla to enter first.

“Huh, didn’t that get fixed yesterday?” Sayla asks while stepping inside the air conditioned building, tapping a finger against the malfunctioning door inquisitively, “It couldn’t have broken again so soon.”

“It’s junk!” Georgi yells from a room away, his voice muffled by the intervening walls. He’s always had alarmingly good hearing, you weren’t even speaking that loudly.

“Hey, Georgi! We’re back!” You call out, closing the door manually behind you.

A desk where a secretary should be is just ahead of you, that work is usually handled by Georgi’s daughter Elena who seems to be absent, and just past the desk are a pair of doors; one leads to Georgi’s office, the other to a small shared room for other workers.

You enter Georgi’s office, finding him drowning in work as usual. His desk is always pure clutter, an old computer and keyboard fighting a losing battle against the paper they were supposed to replace centuries ago. He’s a large and rough looking man, with squashed almost thuggish features and black hair flecked with gray - If you were just meeting him for the first time you’d guess he was part of some sort of organized crime group rather than a charity.

“What are my two favorite volunteers up to today?” He asks, flashing his bright white teeth. He’s always made time for you and Sayla despite his heavy workload, but you suspect that has a lot to do with being Teabolo’s adopted children.

“Just reporting back and dropping off our unused supplies,” You answer, “Though there was also problem with a few of the kids we wanted to talk about.”

You and Sayla sit down in the office’s two open chairs and explain the situation as best you can, going through the whole story while Georgi listens intently.

>>5417804
“You don’t like the new backpacks?” He asks at the end, almost sounding hurt. That… that isn’t the takeaway you were hoping he would have from all of that.

“What, I-” You start to say, realizing half a second too late what he’s doing.

“Hah! I’m just messing with you, Maxime.” He chuckles, waving a hand apologetically, “No, no, I understand what you’ve both been saying. That’s very troubling, I’ll see if any of my people know about this ‘Diego’ kid, we probably have a record of him somewhere. It’s good that you came back here, I would hate to have seen either of you get hurt. And I’ll see if somebody can get that backpack thing sorted out, for real this time.”

“Thanks, Georgi.” Sayla says, smiling.

“Yeah, thanks.” You say as well, “I think that covers everything…”

>Head back to Teabolo’s villa as you planned before. Édouard is probably still stuck in one of Jimba’s lectures, though that might be over by now.
>Hang around the compound a bit, see if anyone else needs some help. Technically you’re done for the day, but you’re friends with a lot of the other workers. Maybe Elena is around?

>>5417806
>>Head back to Teabolo’s villa as you planned before. Édouard is probably still stuck in one of Jimba’s lectures, though that might be over by now.

>>5417767
Oh yeah, lets follow the local violent delinquent clearly leading us away from the medical tents and into unfamiliar parts of the refugee camp. We're, like, 12 and Artesia is 10, bro, lets save the daring do for when shit really hits the fan.

>>5417806
>>Head back to Teabolo’s villa as you planned before. Édouard is probably still stuck in one of Jimba’s lectures, though that might be over by now.

>>5417806
>Hang around the compound a bit, see if anyone else needs some help. Technically you’re done for the day, but you’re friends with a lot of the other workers. Maybe Elena is around?

>>5417806
>Head back to Teabolo’s villa as you planned before. Édouard is probably still stuck in one of Jimba’s lectures, though that might be over by now.

>>5417806
>>Head back to Teabolo’s villa as you planned before. Édouard is probably still stuck in one of Jimba’s lectures, though that might be over by now.

>>5417824
>>5417825
>>5417832
>>5417837
Writing.

File: Teabolo.png (189 KB, 474x442)

189 KB PNG

>>5417824
>>5417825
>>5417832
>>5417837

The journey back up the hill to Teabolo’s fortified villa, your home for the last three years, takes maybe fifteen minutes. The road is a bit winding to allow for vehicles to make their way up, but you’re soon at the stone gatehouse. The guards peer out of an anachronistically modern looking armored window and then wave you in, greeting you and your sister as the heavy wooden doors swing open to allow you to enter the courtyard. It’s a decently sized area, large enough to comfortably practice shooting in or entertain dozens of guests in an open air party, and surrounded on three sides by loggias with various arched doorways leading into the rest of the sprawling stone home.

Teabolo Mass, your adoptive father, is speaking with a few men in suits just past the main gate. Teabolo is quite a massive man, alarmingly overweight in fact, but he’s a gentle soul who has done his best to be your father these last few years - He was quite a close friend of your late father, and it shows in how much he seems to care for you all. Sayla seems to have fully accepted him, but Édouard is… less comfortable with having a new father, though they still get along well.

You…
>Greet Teabolo warmly. You’ve accepted him as your new father.
>Greet Teabolo politely. You’re thankful for what he’s done but he isn’t your father. The Zabis murdered him and nothing will change that.

>>5417873
>Greet Teabolo politely. You’re thankful for what he’s done but he isn’t your father. The Zabis murdered him and nothing will change that.

>>5417873
>>Greet Teabolo politely. You’re thankful for what he’s done but he isn’t your father. The Zabis murdered him and nothing will change that.

>>5417873
>>Greet Teabolo politely. You’re thankful for what he’s done but he isn’t your father. The Zabis murdered him and nothing will change that.

>>5417873
>>Greet Teabolo politely. You’re thankful for what he’s done but he isn’t your father. The Zabis murdered him and nothing will change that.

>>5417873
>>Greet Teabolo politely. You’re thankful for what he’s done but he isn’t your father. The Zabis murdered him and nothing will change that.

>>5417875
>>5417878
>>5417880
>>5417888
>>5417895
Writing.

File: Jimba Rant.png (383 KB, 752x495)

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>>5417875
>>5417878
>>5417880
>>5417888
>>5417895

“Good afternoon, Teabolo.” You say, nodding to him as you pass by. He smiles and returns the gesture, turning away from whatever business he was dealing with for a moment.

“Are you busy, dad?” Artesia asks, looking over the two other men in suits.

“I am, yes. Do you need to talk though?” He asks, “I can finish this later if you ne-”

“No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.” Sayla says, shaking her head and moving further into the courtyard alongside you. As you you walk away, heading to a nearby doorway, you overhear Teabolo and the two men continue their conversation.

“...Yashima is producing a new fighter? How intriguing, though I must say that the initiative for improved energy transport from Jupiter you mentioned earlier sounds more promising as an investment, the energy fleet is very secure…”

“...I assure you that both are fine options, sir, though with the present political situation the Yashima investment may prove more prudent in the medium term…”

As you round the corner the rest of the conversation is cut off, too quiet to hear through the thick stone walls.

Moving up a beautiful, if questionably structurally sound, flight of old wooden stairs, you’re soon at the door of the old study where most of your education takes place; today isn't a tutoring day, but you can hear Jimba from the other side of the door already. You open the door, looking into the room. It’s lined with bookshelves, a single table and a number of finely made wooden chairs populating it. Old man Jimba sits in one, reading from a book and lecturing your brother Édouard on the philosophy of Zeon Zum Deikun. He has been doing this frequently in the last few months, and tried many times to lure Sayla and you into these hours-long rants thinly disguised as ‘lessons.’ You’ve sat through plenty by now.

“...that was when the grand concept of ‘newtypes’ came into being! In every age, prophets have been solitary figures. Even Deikun’s ideology was not readily accepted by the masses at first, but…” Jimba stops as he notices you and Sayla at the door.

“Mistress Artesia, Master Felix, would you like to join your brother in this lesson?” Jimba asks you both, waving the book he was holding in the air, “There is much that you’ve missed.”

Édouard, or Casval as Jimba still insists on calling him, gives you the closest thing to a pleading look he’s probably capable of. He must have been stuck here for hours.

>”Actually we were just coming to retrieve him, Mr. Ral. Édouard, Teabolo needs you to help us with a few things.” Not the best lie, but your brother is clearly being tortured here.
>”We were just stopping by to say hello.” Grin mischievously and wave, abandoning Édouard to this horrid fate.
>”Sure, I guess? What was that about newtypes?”

>>5417934
>”Actually we were just coming to retrieve him, Mr. Ral. Édouard, Teabolo needs you to help us with a few things.” Not the best lie, but your brother is clearly being tortured here.

>>5417934
>>”Sure, I guess? What was that about newtypes?”
Might as well learn more of our father's philosophy.

>>5417934
>”Sure, I guess? What was that about newtypes?”
Soul, gravity, evolution, etc

>>5417934
>”Sure, I guess? What was that about newtypes?”
Sorry Cas. Very important stuff.

>>5417934
>”Sure, I guess? What was that about newtypes?”

>>5417946
>>5417948
>>5417953
>>5417970
Writing.

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“Sure, I guess?” You say, stepping further inside the room and taking a seat, “What was that about newtypes?”

Jimba smiles, a glint in his eye, “Aah, good, good. Mistress Artesia, will you join us as well?”

“...I suppose, Mr. Ral.” She says, not sounding terribly enthusiastic but taking a seat regardless. Édouard sighs in defeat, slumping a little in his seat before glaring at you. You shrug apologetically, though it doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

“Where to begin, where to begin…” Jimba mutters to himself, “Ah! Of course, your father’s speech to the Munzo Diet - I will read it aloud, in full. I should have done this weeks ago, now that I think about it. Ha! What a foolish thing to have missed, I believe only your brother has heard it all, but it can never hurt to hear it again!”

Jimba stands up and clears his throat loudly, flipping the pages of the book until he finds what he was looking for, tapping on the page loudly with one finger.

And it begins.

“The universe is a new environment, which will compel mankind to change! If the first stage in mankind’s evolution was his evolution from an ape to a human, and the second stage was was his breakthrough from feudalism to the rational science of the Renaissance, then the third will be his transformation into a new type of human, a man with profound sensitivity and insight and a far greater awareness of the vastness of time and space.”

Sayla leans forward a little in her chair, listening more intently.

“The transition to Newtypes will be a natural one. The act of walking increased man’s range of movement and helped the concept of tribe and nation-state to develop. Powered vehicles expanded man’s awareness to a global level. And now civilization is advancing into outer space. By living and working in space, man’s consciousness will transcend the boundaries of Earth and become truly universal. The vastness of space will be 'home'. And as man’s consciousness expands, he will begin to tap the unutilized portions of his cerebrum- the enormous untapped mental reserves given by God precisely for the new environment of space, which will act as the trigger.”

“O people of space! Now is the time to awaken! To realize your latent potential! We are at the dawn of a transformation of mankind. A true enlightenment of the human race. And we may finally be poised, ready to transcend what has always been thought the impossible- infinite space, and time itself. This is no idle dream. To live in a new universe, man must transcend the psychological limitations of his old environment!”

>Interrupt and ask a question. (Write-in).
>Let Jimba continue.

Had a bad editing error at the start and had to delete and repost this.

>>5418017
>Let Jimba continue.

>>5418017
>>Interrupt and ask a question. (Write-in).
Does this mean humans that live in space will have what amounts to augmented intelligence?

>>5418017
>Let Jimba continue.
>>5418065
Enhanced perception. Newtypes are effectively people with evolved sixth sense, precognition and limited psychic ability. IIRC a few of the OG Gundam protags could psychically communicate.

>>5418065
I just realized you were asking that question in character and not necessarily as a player. Autism got the better of me.

>>5418088
It's a good in-character question, since we wouldn't know about the space magic yet.
I think we should ask it, just at the end of the lecture instead of now

>>5418091
I agree, it is. The more of an understanding we have of newtypes the easier it'll be dealing with them.

>>5418031
>>5418083
Writing.

>>5418065
I'll keep this in mind for the end.

>>5418031
>>5418083
>>5418065

As you listen to Jimba speak, a few questions are already floating around in your head. They can wait until he’s done though, no need to be rude.

The old man pauses briefly, scolds Édouard for not pay enough attention, and then continues reading while gesticulating with his free hand, “It is the height of arrogance for those who remain on Earth to look up at the heavens and believe they can continue to rule over all its inhabitants! It is true that we- the space colonists- were largely shipped from Earth against our will as a population-control measure. But now we are developing a new identity and awareness. We are a new people. We live, eat, and sleep among the stars. We live in infinite space, and we will have access to infinite energy until the sun burns out five billion years from now. Our consciousness will expand, and infinite space will be our true home. God has given us the stars to live among.”

“We are the people of the universe. We have struggled to survive in a harsh environment, and new generations of colonists testify to our success. Now, when we gaze back at Earth, we see a sacred blue and green orb- the cradle of civilization and a sacred home that we must eternally preserve and protect. Our new consciousness as a people of the universe tells us that Earth was not created to be abused and polluted by a few members of an elite, privileged class. Men and women who have never been into outer space still believe Earth belongs to them and still continue rape and plunder it, but their time has passed. Earth must be preserved as the sacred homeland of all mankind. It does not belong solely to an Earthbound elite! By continuing to dream of controlling all of mankind, they forever deny mankind its true destiny.”

“Autonomy for the Sides, sovereignty for the colonists, does not simply mean a revolt against sovereignty on Earth. It means that every human should move into space, that the government of the Earth and the area around it should be placed in the hands of an alliance of all Sides, and that the Earth itself should be preserved and protected as the sacred birthplace of all mankind. It is easy to expand the numbers of colonies required to accomplish this.”

“In ancient times the Christians fought bloody battles for control over the birthplace of their religion, but there is no need for humanity to repeat this mistake over Earth.”

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>>5418172
Jimba closes his eyes as he finishes speaking, shutting the book with his free hand. He exhales deeply and sits back down in his chair, and then looks at you and your siblings expectantly.

“Does that mean humans that live in space will have what amounts to augmented intelligence?” You ask, not entirely sure of what all that talk about expanded consciousness meant.

“I was wondering the same thing, Max.” Sayla says quickly, sounding almost excited.

“Mm. A good question, Master Felix.” Jimba says, nodding astutely, “Your father was speaking not of augmented intelligence, but instead of something more fundamental. A newtype will have far greater perception and intuition, not necessarily enhanced intelligence, though I see how one could interpret it in such a way from some perspectives. Deikun often said that newtypes will be capable of perfect communication without any misunderstanding, far superior to what any language could ever achieve.”

“And only spacenoids will become newtypes?” Artesia questions.

“He was never entirely certain.” Jimba answers after a pause, “We discussed it a few times, but the extent to which a person had to live in space was not clear. In theory even a person who has lived their entire life on the earth could possess the correct traits, but he thought that to be exceedingly unlikely. Nearly impossible, and certainly impossible for all of mankind to do so under such conditions. A person who became a newtype under such conditions would be truly remarkable, even among other newtypes. The transition from old to newtype has more to do with developing the correct mindset to awaken one’s mind, a sort of crystallization of emotion and intuitive understanding occuring in one's life, either dramatically in a single moment or as a trickle… Living in space, understanding it, dealing with its realities as an extension of oneself and all of ones life, these were believed by your father to be necessary for most.”

>>5418181
“So it isn’t biological?” You ask, finding that thought very comforting. It seems necessary for your father's ideas to make any sense, really.

Jimba shakes his head, “Not as your father theorized, at least not in a strict sense. There may be some role genetics plays in the speed of a newtypes awakening, and of course it can matter to an extent for disposition, but that is just guesswork. Some small amount of funding was put into researching the possibility when your father was the leader of Munzo, but I never heard if the efforts bore fruit…”

Édouard sits up suddenly, his attention entirely focused on Jimba for the first time since you’ve been in the study, and he asks a simple question, “Does that mean the Zabis have that research?”

Jimba’s eyes widen, worry lines creasing deeply as he ponders the idea, “I… Had not considered that. But I suppose those snakes might. They have only ever been interested in the political utility of your father's theories though. They still have the mindsets of the earth elite, as your father would have put it. I'd just say they're bastards. I doubt they had much interest in anything but using his words to gain power for themselves.”

>Ask further questions. (Write-in).
>You’ve heard enough, you need to process this. Depart politely with your siblings.

>>5418185
>>You’ve heard enough, you need to process this. Depart politely with your siblings.

>>5418185
>You’ve heard enough, you need to process this. Depart politely with your siblings.

>>5418185
>Father preached a lot about peace, enlightenment and independence. How can the Zabis twist his words, removing their meaning? And how they got that much power to begin with?
>It's a wonderful dream, and I really want to believe in it, but what I've seen so far is spacenoids backstabbing eachother as much as the federation, changing one controlling elite for the next. Even our own family is without it's disagreements.

What is the appeal of Gundam, especially for adults?

>>5418185
>You’ve heard enough, you need to process this. Depart politely with your siblings.
We should discuss this with them. I hope we can convince them that we can stay together (either fighting for the Feds or Zeon).

>>5418234
The same as any media, I suppose.

>>5418185
>You’ve heard enough, you need to process this. Depart politely with your siblings.

>>5418234
Cool robots, fun characters, occasional insight. Pretty conventional appeal.

>>5418188
>>5418215
>>5418238
>>5418261
Departing wins. I'll include an opportunity for discussion with your siblings as well.

>>5418234
Big robots go brrrrrrrr. More seriously, the psychological and political elements. >>5418265 is more or less on the money.

UC Gundam is the best by far.

>>5418188
>>5418215
>>5418238
>>5418261

“That’s a lot to think about, Jimba. Thank you.” You say, standing up, “I need some time to process it all.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for more either,” Sayla says, rising with you. Édouard takes the opportunity to join your escape, standing quickly and giving Jimba a polite nod.

The old man sighs and gives a little wave of dismissal, “...Very well then, though there are several books we have yet to even begin to cover. You all need to understand these things for when you return to Zeon. The people will expect you to know such things, just as your father did.”

“It might be a few days until we’re ready for more,” Édouard says, already almost at the door, “Though I would like to discuss how the Zabis have been twisting our father’s beliefs. I want to know everything they’ve been doing in Side 3.”

“Oh, of course, Master Casval! I have my notes around here somewhere…” Jimba starts up, looking about his chair and then at the nearby shelves almost frantically, “Where did they get off to?...”

“I look forward to it. Another time though, Jimba.” Édouard says, smiling. The three of you leave the room and head back downstairs and into the courtyard. Teabolo and the two men are gone.

“So what did you think of all of that?” You ask, directing the question at both of your siblings as you stand together under one of the arches of the loggia. A trio of birds have landed in the green of the courtyard nearby, chirping happily together.

“It was too high minded for me,” Artesia answers almost immediately, though her tone shifts to something more melancholy as she speaks, “But the desire to be more sensitive to others is very noble, I think. So many people in the refugee camp have had such different lives than us. They’re not really any different though. Displaced from their homes, their families... broken. If I could just tell them about it, things would be so much easier… I miss mom and dad.”

You put a hand around Sayla’s shoulder and draw her into a hug, there’s no need to speak.

“So do I, Artesia.” Édouard says gently, slipping into using your sister’s old name as he joins in. Moments like this are rarer than a few years ago. Eventually the three of you separate, the conversation continuing.

"It's hard to think our dad thought up all of this," Sayla says, wiping a tear away with her sleeve.

“Father was quite the visionary." Édouard agrees, speaking with conviction, "The souls of mankind should no longer be bound by earth’s gravity.”

>>5418319
>”Oh? You really believe it then, don’t you Édouard?”
>”I found it very compelling. We should talk like this more often. Together, I mean. Just us.”
>”Honestly I’m not sure what to think about it all. I liked how it sounded, but do we even know if any of it is real?”
>Write-in?

>>5418320
>Write in
Édouard is right, we should try to uplift humanity into the stars, while also bringing happiness to those that need it like you mentioned, Sayla... But honestly, more than any of that I miss speaking with you guys. We should talk more often together, just the three of us.

>>5418351
Supporting

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>>5418351
+1

>>5418304
>spoiler
My man