As the Federation's main army poured into California Base, the scales of victory were no longer in question. With the bulk of the defensive forces pinned down by the Twelfth Independent Technical Division, the regular units encountered little resistance as they successfully neutralized the last of the garrison and the remaining defensive installations.
The Air Force encountered no obstacles, destroying all of California Base's vital facilities in the blink of an eye. The Navy made landfall, easily seizing the base's major ports. The Army drove straight in, forcing all surviving personnel of the Principality of Zeon to raise their hands in surrender.
"Turn back quickly! Support the Twelfth Independent Technical Division!"
After successfully occupying California Base, the regular forces did not simply sit back and watch the Twelfth Independent Technical Division struggle. Although California Base had been retaken, the Principality of Zeon's forces had not been completely eradicated. They were still fighting, and the Twelfth Independent Technical Division was still holding off the largest concentration of enemies for them.
With the support of the regular units, the Twelfth Independent Technical Division finally caught a break. Under the cover of the regular forces, it took another half hour to successfully eliminate the enemy forces of the Principality of Zeon. Escape was impossible; they were either dead or captured.
"Ha... ha... finally... we finally made it through."
Slumped on the ground, the members of the Twelfth Independent Technical Division gasped for air, their bodies limp and devoid of energy, lacking the strength to even move a finger.
None of their previous missions had felt like this. This time, they weren't just fighting on the front lines; they were heavily outnumbered. They couldn't retreat, they couldn't evacuate, and they couldn't perform a strategic repositioning. They had to pin every single enemy in place.
Fortunately, no one was lost this time. There were only three seriously injured members, and all were expected to make a full recovery and return to the battlefield.
"I hope General Gopp doesn't blow a fuse."
Turning their heads to look at their Mobile Suits, the group felt a surge of relief. Yang Hui's Unit 01 was in the best condition, followed by the machines of the Captains and Vice-Captains, which were covered in scorch marks and bullet holes, looking as battered as could be—only the degree of damage varied. As for the others...
Missing or damaged weapons and backpacks were common, and severed limbs were a frequent sight. The worst off were the machines belonging to the seriously injured pilots. Fortunately, Yang Hui had upgraded the cockpit protection to Emperor-class during the initial design phase. As long as it wasn't a direct hit, it was difficult for a pilot to be killed. Otherwise, those few wouldn't be "seriously injured"—they would have been "killed in action."
Two or three machines were missing all four limbs, leaving only the torso and head. Another two or three had sections of their torsos sheared off. A few others had hideous, terrifying gashes near the cockpit area, even allowing a glimpse into the interior of the cockpit itself.
"Why would he be angry? We didn't just throw them away. This is normal combat damage!"
"...I heard our mission this time was arranged by the Colonel. Originally, Colonel Hawkins wanted to send us backup, but the Colonel refused."
"Good thing he did. We're in this state as it is; if we had a bunch of dead weight dragging us down, wouldn't it have been even worse?"
"Shh! Lower your voice!"
"Uh..."
That sentence maxed out the mockery level. They weren't at a specialized station right now; there were many regular army soldiers around them who heard every word. Countless resentful glares snapped toward them.
"Sorry," the outspoken soldier apologized. They were currently exhausted; if they got into a fight, they wouldn't just be unable to strike back—they wouldn't even be able to run.
"It's fine," the regular soldiers waved it off. Although they were annoyed, they knew it was the truth. They were well aware of how strong the Twelfth Independent Technical Division was. If even those elite pilots were in such a state, they really would have been a hindrance if they had gone in.
Their frustration stemmed not only from being looked down upon but also from their own mediocrity. They wondered why they lacked such overwhelming strength. In the military, strength equated to status. With strength, one commanded respect and found it easier to gain merit. With merit came opportunities for promotion.
...
The battle ended, and Yang Hui arrived at the California Base prison because Som had been shouting that he wanted to see him.
Som had been taken prisoner. Although Yang Hui felt it was completely unnecessary—Som was a Zabi family die-hard, so there was no point in trying to convince him to surrender, and he would definitely never join the Zeon Republic—for a fanatic like him, death was the best outcome.
"You've finally come." Som looked up at Yang Hui, his face a mask of decadence and despair.
"At least let me get some rest first, okay?" Yang Hui sat down casually across from Som, looking bored.
"Why... why is someone like you not in Zeon?" Som vented the grief and indignation in his heart. If not for the Twelfth Independent Technical Division, if not for Yang Hui who formed it, their strategic plans would have proceeded without hindrance. The Federation would have been powerless before Zeon's iron hooves—or so he believed.
Everything started, and everything failed, the moment Yang Hui appeared.
If Yang Hui were a man of Zeon, the Federation would have fallen to them long ago. The one locked in this prison now wouldn't be Som, but some Federation General.
"Heh, Zeon? You mean the Principality of the Zabi family?" Yang Hui sneered.
"There is only one Zeon! And that is the Principality of Zeon led by the Zabis!" The split of Zeon and the existence of the Zeon Republic was a thorn that Som—no, all loyal followers of the Zabi family—could never remove. it was a stain that could never be washed clean.
"Heh, then there's nothing more to talk about." Yang Hui rose to leave. Talking to a fanatic like this was meaningless. They only knew how to broadcast their own ideals and beliefs; they would never listen to the views of others.
"Just you wait! we still have the Supreme Commander! And Lady Kycilia! They will surely avenge me!" Just as Yang Hui's foot was about to cross the prison threshold, Som used every ounce of his strength to scream with conviction. But unfortunately...
Yang Hui paused, turned his head, and gave a playful, cold sneer. "Kycilia Zabi is already dead. Gihren Zabi is next."
"You... what did you say?" Som looked up, unable to believe his ears. "You're lying to me, aren't you? You must be lying! How could Lady Kycilia be dead!? Impossible!"
Som suddenly found a burst of strength and lunged toward Yang Hui to demand the truth. The surrounding guards immediately restrained him. Yang Hui didn't linger; he waved a hand with his back turned to Som and left the prison.
"Yang Hui! Stop right there! Tell me you're lying! Tell me..."
"That's why I say people like that shouldn't be given the chance to live." Walking out of the prison gates, Yang Hui climbed into a jeep. Stan Lee Hawkins was in the driver's seat.
"I actually think your way is more cruel," Stan Lee Hawkins teased while driving.
How could it not be cruel? Often, death was a release. For a fanatic like Som, nothing was more cruel than the collapse of his faith.
Gihren Zabi was indeed still alive, but Kycilia Zabi was dead, and Dozle Zabi was missing. Of those once considered the "Iron Triangle" of the Principality of Zeon, two had been eliminated, leaving only one. Even the most resolute faith would start to crack.
"So, hurry up and have them all shot. Let them be released sooner," Yang Hui shrugged.
"I'd like to, but the guy's lucky. He didn't get hit by a stray bullet." Stan Lee Hawkins shared Yang Hui's view; shooting such fanatics was the best course of action.
As it turned out, many soldiers of the Principality of Zeon who fled aimlessly after the battle died—caught in crossfire, consumed by explosions, or buried under rubble. But Som had been in a daze in the command center the whole time and ultimately survived, only to be captured by the marines.
Once someone is a prisoner, you can't just act on a whim. A normal soldier must abide by the Geneva Conventions; you can't just kill prisoners. If they wanted to shoot him now, they would have to wait for a sentence from the International Court.
"Tch, villains have a knack for survival."
"By the way, the Prime Minister of the Zeon Republic has sent an official dispatch to the Federation. They want to take over the eastern regions of North America. Guess what the Assembly did?"
"They agreed, what else?" Yang Hui rolled his eyes. Did he even need to guess such a question?
"That confident?"
"Nonsense. We're just one step away from kicking the Principality of Zeon off the Earth. Revil will never allow anyone to cause trouble now. If the Zeon Republic becomes dissatisfied and aligns themselves with the Principality of Zeon again, the winds of war would do a 180-degree turn immediately.
Therefore, not just eastern North America—any Occupied Zones currently under the Zeon Republic's jurisdiction will be given to them. After the Federation completely defeats the Principality of Zeon, we'll deal with the Zeon Republic."
These were words of political maneuvering. The high-ranking members of the Assembly thought exactly as Yang Hui analyzed. Right now, the Zeon Republic was a landmine that absolutely could not be stepped on; instead, it had to be coddled, because the Zeon Republic's stance would influence the course of the war.
But in reality... Revil and Gopp hadn't even thought that far. Char had already been confirmed as one of their own. Compared to the people in the Federal Assembly, Revil and Gopp were more willing to cooperate with Char, and they both trusted Yang Hui.
"Also, His Highness Casval is on his way. I received his telegram; he wants to see you." As he spoke, Stan Lee Hawkins gave Yang Hui a meaningful look.
"No need to doubt it. He and I are old friends." Stan Lee Hawkins was considered one of their own now. His achievements in the Australia theater and at California Base were enough for him to move up a step. Having tasted the benefits, Hawkins naturally wouldn't give them up easily.
Even if he did decide to turn his back, Yang Hui wasn't afraid. What he could give, he could take back—with interest.
"It seems I still have a lot to learn," Hawkins said self-deprecatingly.
"Every stage has its own tasks. You're a smart man, Stan Lee. Sometimes, knowing too much is very dangerous."
"I know my place. I will do my job well."
"That's enough. When the time is right, what you need to know will naturally be made known to you."