The mock battles finally came to an end. The observation group stood to the side, faces full of frustration and dejection. They had utilized every tip given by Amuro, Giorgio Miguel, and Gai Murakumo, and even incorporated many of their own ideas. Their tactics were as underhanded as could be, completely disregarding any sense of martial honor, yet they still suffered a total defeat.
The best result was achieved by the second team, which managed to take down two members of the 10th Squad. However, they paid a staggering price to do so. Upon realizing their fate, the two pilots from the 10th Squad triggered their MS self-destruct sequences before they could be fully disabled, dragging several enemy units down with them.
"This is terrifying. How do they do it?" asked one of the men who had been caught in the self-destruction, his heart still racing. There had been no hesitation in initiating the self-destruct sequence. The moment the observation group caught an opening and aimed their weapons, the two pilots had immediately triggered the program and lunged toward them. Even a single second of hesitation would have been enough for the observers to stop the self-destruction.
Although it was just a simulation, those decisive actions were definitely not chosen simply because no one actually dies in a simulation. The participants might not have seen it clearly, but the spectators outside saw everything. That level of resoluteness and ruthlessness was an instinctive reaction—a habit engraved into their very bones.
They believed that even if this were real combat instead of a simulation, those pilots would have made the exact same choice.
"Because everything about the Twelfth Independent Technical Division is classified," Yang Hui said plainly.
"Just because of that?"
"That is reason enough."
"..."
It was terrifying. This was no longer just a matter of resolve or willpower; this level of practice could only be described as a faith. Like religious zealots, they were willing—even eager—to die for their convictions.
Perhaps only now did they understand the true reason why the Twelfth Independent Technical Division was so powerful. It wasn't their superior military discipline, their powerful MS piloting skills, their comprehensive knowledge base, or their seamless teamwork. It was this terrifying faith.
This realization caused even more people to consider backing out. They did not believe they possessed sufficient will to shoulder such a faith.
The four members of the White Wild Dog squad, who were the most interested in the division and the most inclined to join, were now silent. It wasn't fear they felt, but a deep concern—the fear that they wanted to do it but wouldn't be able to. After all, faith... was not something just anyone could possess.
"Colonel Yang Hui, what is the next part of the training?"
Pushing the issue of faith aside for now, Pierce P. Rell asked Yang Hui. He didn't know if he could do it yet, but time was limited and shouldn't be wasted on hesitation and fear.
"First, observe my people conducting tactical drills. Then, you will be split up, and they will lead you through a firsthand experience of our squad tactical training."
"Understood!" they chorused.
After giving the instructions, Yang Hui departed. Leaving the observation group to Amuro and the others was enough; he didn't need to watch them constantly.
He planned to go to the headquarters to see how the others were faring with their lessons...
"..." Yang Hui's mouth twitched as he watched the group in the classroom. On the surface, they looked calm, but inwardly, they were clearly panicking.
The captain and vice-captain level members like Travis Kirkland, Athrun, and South Burning were doing alright. After all, they had led others before and had been with Yang Hui for a long time. They could just follow the established patterns and maintain control of the room.
But the others were struggling. They were stiffly imitating the mannerisms of the instructors who had taught them, dryly reciting from their materials regardless of whether the students below understood. They didn't even know how to answer questions when they arose.
This was especially true for the members of the 9th Squad. They were the most junior, their knowledge and practical application were the shallowest, and their expressions were the most rigid.
"Good grief, they still have a lot to learn." Yang Hui shook his head with a small laugh. He didn't intervene; this was a form of training for them as well. These people couldn't remain mere soldiers under his command forever. They were the future pillars of Prometheus Fortress and would eventually lead their own teams. It was better to hone them now than to have them panic later.
...
Two days passed, and the Luna arrived at the Australia Theater General Headquarters right on schedule. The massive warship, large enough to blot out the sun, descended from the heavens. Everyone stood with mouths agape, looking up at the sky as the celestial beast slowly touched down.
With the Luna's arrival, it was time for Yang Hui and his team to set out. Over the past two days, whether it was the observation group, the ordinary Federation soldiers, or the members of the Twelfth Independent Technical Division responsible for teaching, everyone had grown significantly.
The members of the observation group in particular—having been handpicked as elites—might not have been at the highest strength level, but their comprehension and growth potential were excellent.
Many of them had been scouted, and Giorgio Miguel and others had extended invitations. Unfortunately... not everyone's ambition was matched by their will and resilience. After a day and a half of intense, grueling life, most of them had reconsidered and ultimately declined.
However, Giorgio Miguel and the others didn't hold it against them. A refusal was just a refusal. Everyone has their own path and their own choices; they might feel a bit of regret, but not disappointment, nor would they mock anyone for it.
Still, not everyone declined. Besides two or three others who possessed enough ambition and courage to accept, the four members of the White Wild Dog squad—who Yang Hui had personally invited from the start—all chose to accept the invitation to join the Twelfth Independent Technical Division.
"Colonel Yang Hui, I have received my transfer orders," Stan Lee Hawkins reported to Yang Hui inside the headquarters.
After Yang Hui's discussion with Stan Lee Hawkins, he had sent a telegram to Revil. After some brief procedures and communication, Hawkins' transfer orders arrived almost simultaneously with the Luna.
"Are you departing with us, or traveling on your own?" Yang Hui asked.
"I won't be departing with your unit. Once the new commander arrives, I will head to the North America Theater." Stan Lee Hawkins still wanted to finish his final duties properly. As the Commander-in-Chief, he was different from the Twelfth Independent Technical Division and the soldiers below him; he had to wait for his successor to arrive and hand over the responsibilities of the Australia Theater before he could leave.
"Very well."
"Then I wish you all a triumphant campaign."
"We'll have a stage ready for your grand entrance," Yang Hui replied.
The two men saluted each other. Yang Hui then left to return to Luna II, setting course for the North America Theater.
...
In the North America Theater, the White Base hovered over the ruins of a base. Brad looked down through the bridge glass at the broken walls, debris, and the sea of flames, unable to stop himself from shaking his head.
"Why won't they just surrender? Surrendering would clearly prevent all these casualties."
Of course, this wasn't pity or sympathy, just a momentary reflection. Brad was never lamenting the sacrifice of a specific individual, the annihilation of a specific unit, or the destruction of a base. What he lamented was simply this messed-up war itself.
"In truth, they are the same as us. We wouldn't surrender either." The person standing behind Brad was Miley Bashu, the helmsman of the White Base.
"Then why did you join the war? Why join this unit?" Brad asked.
Miley Bashu came from the famous and powerful Bashu family of the Earth Federation, a family that owned a massive conglomerate. Her father, Hugh Bashu, was a member of the Federal Assembly who had worked tirelessly to mediate relations between the Earth Federation and Zeon before the One Year War began.
"To take control of my own destiny, I suppose," Miley Bashu said with a self-deprecating smile.
Born into a noble family, Miley Bashu faced the fate of all high-society daughters: being used as a tool for a political marriage.
Since she was a child, Miley had dreamed of becoming a space pilot. But when she was very young, her family betrothed her to Kamran Bloom, the young master of the prominent Bloom family of Side 6.
To fight against fate, to take control of her own life, and to achieve her ideals, Miley moved to Side 2 with her family when she was ten, later traveling back and forth between there and the Bashu estate on Earth.
To improve herself, she started working as her father's proxy secretary during her student years to assist him. Simultaneously, she obtained a yacht-class space glider license and once had the experience of re-entering the atmosphere.
Originally, Miley Bashu never imagined she would join the Federal Army and enter the vortex of war.
But when the war broke out, she had returned to her hometown alone for a vacation, narrowly escaping disaster. However, her family at Side 2 all perished. This made her realize one truth: in war, no one is spared. Even if she had successfully pressured the Bashu family to cancel her engagement through her own efforts, her destiny was still held in the hands of others.
So, she had proactively joined the Federal Army, pulled some strings, and entered the Twelfth Independent Technical Division.
"...You are quite remarkable," Brad praised after a moment of silence.
Miley's goals weren't some hollow, official platitudes; from beginning to end, she did it for herself. As for Brad...
To be honest, he felt lost regarding his own path.
In the beginning, he was just a hot-blooded youth, fighting for the Federation and for peace.
But now... after experiencing so much, he felt those previous thoughts were nothing but empty talk. He no longer knew exactly what he was fighting for.
"So are you."
"Me? Heh, I'm far from it."
"At least you're still persevering, aren't you?"
"..."
Beep, beep, beep...
"Captain Brad, a call from Major Jung. The battlefield cleanup is complete, requesting further instructions," the CIC reported.
"Order the 2nd Squad to proceed northwest after resupplying. Destroy all observation posts along the way and standby 500 kilometers outside Phoenix Base."
"Understood."
"White Base will proceed due west. Target: Tiburon Island. Coordinate with the 3rd and 4th Squads to occupy it and wait for the Luna to rendezvous."
"Understood!"
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