"Good work, Roz."
After changing disguises multiple times along the way, and finally confirming he could no longer sense any other brainwaves nearby, Roz returned to the Eighth Fleet's base.
Inside the meeting room, General Halbarton and several of his trusted officers were sitting with stern expressions, waiting to hear what Roz had discovered.
"The thing they're building is called Requiem. It's some sort of superweapon similar to what you call Gryps."
Roz turned on the recording device, and the conversation between the Blue Cosmos in the lab coat and Orphee played through the room.
When the short recording ended, Halbarton fell silent as well.
"By using beam relays for refraction, this Requiem can strike both Earth and PLANT."
"And this thing isn't even a project of the Earth Alliance."
Halbarton's expression darkened.
"This project is a collaboration between Blue Cosmos and that so‑called Kingdom of Foundation. Meaning that, based on the interests of that kingdom, they will attack both Earth and PLANT."
"It is something uncontrollable, something that could even stab the Earth Alliance in the back."
"Can we destroy it?"
This time, Halbarton's adjutant spoke.
"If we destroy that thing… even if they try to rebuild it, it will—"
"The Eighth Fleet cannot move."
Halbarton rubbed his forehead.
"The Eighth Fleet is being watched by many eyes. If we deploy the fleet to destroy Requiem, we will be put in a very disadvantageous position…"
Just as the Eighth Fleet's officers were at their wits' end, some even thinking of withdrawing to act independently and sabotage the facility on their own—
"Isn't this very simple?"
Roz calmly showed the coordinates he had recorded, along with the photos he had taken from all kinds of strange angles. "I'll just pilot the Narrative Gundam and destroy it."
"This isn't the time to play hero, Roz!"
Halbarton slapped the table. "The Atlantic Federation has already issued orders regarding your machine—the so‑called White Devil… no, fine, we'll follow your naming and call it the Narrative Gundam. They've already issued orders to capture that unit!"
"Once you enter their defensive perimeter, ten fleets will move to attack you. And we will be required to attack you as well!"
"Have you thought any of this through?"
Halbarton was clearly unhappy with Roz's idea. "If you die, what will happen to Murrue?!"
Halbarton had long regarded Murrue as a daughter and as his successor. Even though she left the Earth Alliance and could not succeed him, his concern never changed.
"White Devil… heh, what a familiar name." Roz set down the camera he was fiddling with.
"I won't die. I promised her… I will definitely come back."
"Tch… stubborn brat…"
Halbarton could see it clearly now—Roz had already made up his mind. No one could change it.
"You're no better, old stubborn man."
Roz looked at Halbarton. "How about letting the younger ones take the initiative for once?"
"…Which direction do you plan to attack from?"
After a long silence, Halbarton opened the map of the lunar base on the projector.
"If you attack from the Eighth Fleet's defensive line, we can—"
"No… I'll attack from here."
Roz thought for a moment, then pointed at a direction.
"The Third Fleet?"
Halbarton frowned. "The wetware‑intelligence utilization rate in that fleet is second only to the First Fleet. Why would you attack from there?"
"Since my fake identity used channels from the First Fleet, if I attack from the Third Fleet's direction… maybe they'll start arguing among themselves?"
Roz waved his hand. "That way, your side's pressure will be reduced a lot."
"Don't underestimate my abilities!"
Halbarton glared with whiskers bristling. "How do you think I earned my reputation? Dealing with those guys is a piece of cake for me!"
"Don't be so stubborn, old man."
Roz sighed. "Fine. I'll retreat in your direction when the time comes, all right?"
"That's more like it."
Only now did Halbarton's expression soften.
"What else do you need?"
"Just send me and my machine to this area."
Roz pointed at a spot near the edge of the Eighth Fleet.
"I'll fly the rest of the way myself."
"You'll fly there yourself? Will your battery last?"
Everyone in the room froze upon hearing Roz's plan.
"An MS's high‑output batteries can't possibly last that long!"
Halbarton's adjutant spoke. "I can find fuel tanks with boosters to extend your range."
"…My machine uses a nuclear battery."
The meeting room fell silent instantly.
Then erupted into chaos.
"A nuclear battery? Nuclear energy?!"
"Fusion—wait, no, laser fusion reactors haven't been miniaturized yet—"
"Has the Neutron Jammer stopped working?!"
As the officers fired off questions one after another, Halbarton suddenly slammed the table.
"Enough!"
At his voice, the room fell quiet.
"Everyone has secrets. As tempting as the idea of using a nuclear battery is, Roz is our comrade!"
Halbarton swept his gaze across the officers. "Prying into a comrade's secrets is something I will absolutely not allow."
"I believe that someday in the future, Roz will tell us the truth about the nuclear battery."
"For now, bury the matter in your hearts. Never speak of it."
Halbarton nodded, then pointed toward Requiem's location.
"What we should care about now is the operation against Blue Cosmos."
"You brats, get moving—practice emergency moving‑target shooting! If the target dodges your shots every time, good. If anyone actually hits the target, they'll get extra training!"
-----------------------------------
After Roz left, the meeting room fell into a silence.
"General Halbarton… this is all we can do."
Halbarton's adjutant sighed. "We have other missions… this is the limit."
"I know… I just… feel a bit unwilling…"
Halbarton fiddled with the materials Roz had left behind. "This is clearly our home turf, yet there's nothing we can do."
"This is our home turf, but it's also the home turf of those Blue Cosmos."
The meeting room fell silent once again.
"…Contact Murrue."
After thinking it over, Halbarton made the decision.
Archangel is an mobile assault ship. The other Archangel-class ships have not yet been deployed to the lunar base, and the Drake-class and Nelson-class cannot catch up to the Archangel.
Halbarton stood up and had his adjutant tidy up the documents on the table.
"I didn't expect that even at my age I'd still have to play an act… I hope everything goes smoothly…"
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