The Kimberley Force's Australian regional headquarters—this was a massive base originally constructed to monitor and blockade Mafty forces in the Oenbelli region.
Although the majority of the Mafty army had evacuated at a painful cost—dispersing into various regions via tunnels and cross-country jungle treks following the failure of the encirclement campaign—this installation remained the primary hub for the Kimberley Force in Australia.
Inside the command center, the atmosphere was thick with extreme low pressure.
A folder sat on the desk; Kimberley had already pulled out the combat report and was scrutinizing its contents.
The oppressive aura radiating from Kimberley made the officers present—and even the Anaheim Electronics supervisor, who had been run ragged since Roz's appearance—feel a strange sense of suffocation.
Kimberley stared at the report, his fingers gripping the paper so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Are you telling me... that Mafty not only destroyed the airliner carrying the Australian regional Tax Collector and the Man Hunter Commander at an altitude of eleven thousand meters, but also wiped out our escort squad and the first wave of reinforcements?"
"Colonel Kimberley, the search and rescue teams are continuing to scan the wreckage site. Perhaps we can recover the black boxes..." one officer explained, his voice trembling.
"Falling from ten thousand meters into the ocean without a parachute—tell me, how exactly do they survive?!" Kimberley slammed the crumpled report onto the table with a loud thwack, roaring in fury.
"We just replenished our MS units, only to lose another batch instantly without achieving a single result... Damn that Mafty!" Kimberley slammed both hands onto the desk, breathing heavily.
"I heard the new machine has finished development... perhaps there will be a turning point?" another officer said tentatively, seeing Kimberley's state.
"Don't even get me started on that!" Kimberley slapped the table again, standing up straight to point at the Anaheim supervisor, who was desperately trying to make himself invisible.
"If you people at Anaheim hadn't sold the Delta Gundam Kai to the Zeon remnants and given them so much aid, would we have lost?!"
Hearing Kimberley's accusation and seeing the officers' suspicious glares, the Anaheim supervisor felt cold sweat pour off him like an open faucet. His heart hammered wildly, and his breathing grew shallow with panic.
"But... I specifically requested the investigation results from my superiors. The Federation investigation team just left Anaheim; we truly did not sell the Delta Gundam Kai to Zeon remnants. Not a single department head or engineer has resigned in the past year, and there are no flight records near the wreckage of Axis..."
The Anaheim supervisor sounded as if he were on the verge of tears. "Our Delta Gundam Kai is still sitting in the warehouse! The investigation team saw it with their own eyes! The report is right there on the desk."
Faced with the supervisor's pathetic expression and the official investigation report sitting nearby, Kimberley was forced to temporarily suppress his dissatisfaction.
The command center fell back into a tomb-like silence. Even the soldiers operating the various instruments instinctively lightened their touch, muffling every sound as if afraid to draw attention to themselves.
"A new commander will be arriving soon to replace me. But before that, I must personally oversee the reception of the new mobile suit and its supporting equipment."
After a long silence, Kimberley finally managed to regulate his emotions, his voice dropping to a low, somber tone.
However, looking at his tightly clenched fists and the way his knuckles remained white from the strain, it was clear his inner state was far from the calm he projected.
Between the bitterness of being replaced and the helplessness of two consecutive tactical failures, he eventually let out a weary sigh.
"Until the handover is complete, I do not want to see another incident in the Australian sector where we lose a massive number of MS. Is that understood?!"
Kimberley looked up, his gaze sweeping across the officers before him—the "inner circle" he had personally promoted.
The two defeats had already happened. No matter how much he tried to cover them up, if the high command truly wanted to know the truth, there were countless channels to uncover the full picture.
It was better to document it normally in the reports and focus on preserving the remaining combat strength of the Kimberley Force for the incoming commander.
At the very least, by maintaining order now, he might still be able to pull enough strings to secure a shred of preferential treatment once he was officially stripped of his current position.
-----------------------------------
At this moment, Char, who had already returned to the disguised transport ship Valiant, remained standing on the deck, letting the sea breeze wash over him. For some reason, he had grown fond of this sensation.
He continued to scroll through his handheld communicator, reading an account concerning his future self and the future Amuro Ray.
It had to be said that, compared to most "unofficial histories," the content written by this author named Kai Shiden was far more rational; some of the combat records involving the White Base were events he had personally experienced.
'Was he a member of the White Base back then?' Char speculated.
"I've already reviewed the combat logs."
Hathaway's voice sounded beside him. Hathaway walked up to Char's side, observing the man who sat there in his sunglasses, scrolling through his device.
"Your performance in this battle was excellent."
"Isn't that only natural? After all, the Messer's performance is quite superior, and the opposition was merely Jegans."
Char lowered his sunglasses slightly. After his sapphire-blue eyes met Hathaway's gaze for a moment, he slid the glasses back into place.
"So, Hathaway, what is our next objective?"
"It seems Anaheim is undergoing internal audits because of the recent appearance of the Zeon remnants. MS shipments are going to be delayed for a while..."
At this, Hathaway sighed, resting his hands on the railing and staring out at the azure sea. "Furthermore, because Mafty has been consistently assassinating Federation officials, the Federation has begun classifying their personnel information. The speed of identifying new targets is slowing down... our operations will likely stagnate for the time being."
"In that case... I have a proposal."
Facing the situation Hathaway described, Char adjusted something on his communicator and turned toward him.
"...Go on."
Hathaway frowned slightly, curious as to what kind of suggestion Char would offer.
"Before we find the next high-profile target, perhaps there are some ready-made objectives right in front of us."
As he spoke, Char showed Hathaway the icon on his screen: Man Hunter.
"You mean... taking action against the Man Hunter units?"
Hearing Char's idea, Hathaway's tone became serious.
The Man Hunter units—this force was another link in the chain maintaining the system for Federation high officials. Their conduct and responsibilities had earned them the deep loathing of many Earth residents.
"Aren't they an excellent target? They have fixed bases, weak firepower, and they operate under a separate system from the Federation Army..."
Char began explaining his rationale for listing the Man Hunter units as strike targets. "And most importantly, the civilians on Earth despise them—they hate them, they are hostile toward them."
Having been with Mafty for only a few days and having executed just one mission, Char felt he already grasped where the organization's problem lay.
That is, all their operations were completely detached from the masses. As a result, whether it was the Mafty army or other supporters, they essentially joined based solely on their own personal hatred.
"You have to eat one bite at a time, and walk the path one step at a time."
Char stowed his communicator. "I was thinking: Mafty shouldn't just be an organization that exists to attack Federation officials. This is Earth; every castle in the air will eventually be dragged down by gravity until it crashes into the ground."
"To realize Mafty's ideas and philosophy, you don't just soar to the sky like a rocket."
Char extended a finger and pointed upward, toward the heavens where he had just fought.
"Instead, you must turn the masses into bricks and have them build the Tower of Babel."
"Attacking the Man Hunters... perhaps that truly is a good objective," Hathaway said, his voice dry after a long pause.
"But to achieve what you described afterward... many people will die."
"At least they would die for that ideal. They would participate of their own volition, and they would do so gladly, wouldn't they?"
Faced with Hathaway's doubt, Char smiled and continued to guide his thoughts.
"Hathaway, the emotions of the public are gunpowder. Right now, dissatisfaction with the Federation has compressed those emotions into a massive bomb."
Char lowered the hand he had pointed at the sky. "It only takes a single spark for it to explode."
Hathaway naturally felt the weight of Char's description. Particularly in his role as a "Botanical Inspector" traveling through various regions, the resentment and helplessness of the common civilians produced massive waves of psychological pressure that Hathaway, as a Newtype, found suffocating.
"Hathaway, you and I are already standing at a critical juncture of this era."
Char reached out and patted Hathaway's shoulder. "Our identities are what they are; there are some things we cannot escape."
"You will become the fleeting meteor that ignites the powder keg. So will I, and so will that Full Frontal."
.....................