The Pitiful Civilian

Kzzzzzt.

The transmission cut sharply through the frigid silence of the void. Three Gigantes mobile suits assigned to the Neo Terra Alliance's Iron Blood Fleet pushed through the darkness, their mechanical frames drifting into view against the backdrop of distant stars.

After acknowledging the order, the lead pilot opened an encrypted visual comm line to Units 02 and 03. Inside the cockpit, holographic displays projected the tense, drawn faces of his squadmates.

"001, are we seriously going to engage that monster of a fleet?"

"This is suicide. Don't tell me you forgot the rumors from a year ago."

Neither pilot could conceal the creeping dread in their voices.

A year ago, right in the middle of a brutal, blood-soaked three-way conflict between the Earth Alliance, the Machine Empire Arcadia, and the Neo Terra Alliance, that fleet had appeared without warning.

At first, everyone assumed it was an experimental super-dreadnought belonging to either the Earth Alliance or Arcadia. Each of the warring factions had promptly dispatched two of their finest mobile suits—six elite war machines in all—to deliver warning fire and seize the vessel.

The encounter ended in slaughter. Or rather, outright annihilation.

Not a single projectile or beam had managed to touch the vessel's hull. With a single pulse of azure light from the ventral main battery, all six elite machines were reduced to drifting cosmic dust.

"I know," 001 said, biting down hard on his lower lip. "But the Alliance is bleeding dry of supplies and raw materials. That fleet is almost certainly packed with lost-era overtechnology and resources beyond our wildest dreams. It's worth risking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠our lives for."

Throttling the thrusters to maximum output, 001 braced himself against the acceleration.

"All units, engage!"

Heavy-caliber Gatling cannons roared alongside high-frequency beam sabers as the three Gigantes unleashed their full arsenals against the colossal dreadnought. Vibrant streaks of destructive fire pierced the void, converging upon the silent titan.

Yet before any strike could land, a translucent barrier of pale cerulean shimmered into existence around the hull.

A dimensional distortion shield.

"No way...! Solid shot, particle beams, high-frequency cutters—it's deflecting everything?!"

"There's not even a scratch! We can't punch through!"

Despairing cries flooded the tactical network. Just then, a massive turret beneath the ship's ventral plating smoothly rotated, locking its maw onto the three mobile suits. Within the barrel, blinding blue energy particles coalesced into a radiant, boiling orb.

"T-That energy signature... Evade—!"

A cataclysmic flash engulfed the sector.

"Mission... failed."

Who was piloting that ship? Why had it suddenly materialized in their universe? Unable to solve a single piece of the riddle, Gigantes 001 was vaporized by the beam's blinding radiance, his craft scattered across the cosmos as incandescent dust.

"Honey."

"Hmm?"

"Look at us. We've gotten so old."

Beyond the window, a crimson sunset was slowly bleeding into twilight. In my younger days, I would have admired the view, but now, simply watching my wife sitting by the glass was more than enough.

Her hair was streaked with gray. Her back curved slightly more than it used to. Fine wrinkles spread across her gentle face.

Leaning back into the sofa, I looked at her and smiled. "Yeah, we really have."

"Feels like just yesterday we were dating."

"I feel the same way."

"Liar," ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she said with a soft chuckle. "You barely remember a thing from back then."

"I remember plenty."

"Like what?"

"Like the very first time you got mad at me."

"...You remember that?"

"Of course I do."

"Is that really the memory a husband is supposed to cherish about his first love?"

"Well, you are my first love, aren't you?"

"Hmph." She turned her face away with a playful pout.

That was how we grew old together. Countless storms had swept through our lives, and the world had shifted on its axis more times than I could count, yet she had remained steadfastly by my side through it all.

A comfortable silence settled between us until she spoke up again, her voice quiet.

"Honey."

"Yeah?"

"When I'm gone... how are you going to live?"

I paused, turning the thought over in my head. "Hmm... honestly, I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Nope."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "You aren't planning to go running after other women, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"Why not?"

"You know why," I said, reaching out to clasp her wrinkled hand in mine. "You're my last. I wanted love and romance to start and end with you."

"So you'll never let yourself feel that way about anyone else again?"

"Never. Having you was enough for one lifetime."

She fell silent, her gaze lingering on our joined hands before she let out a heavy sigh. "Good grief."

"What's with the sigh?"

She stared straight into my eyes. "I'm worried about you."

"Worried about what?"

She tightened her grip on my fingers. "Without me, you won't have anything left to lose."

"..."

"A man with nothing to lose is the most dangerous thing in the world. Deep down, you have an untamable beast lurking inside you. Once the shackle called 'me' is gone, I'm terrified of what that beast might do to the world."

I laughed aloud. "Aren't you flattering me a bit too much?"

"I'm deadly serious. I really think I'm the only person on Earth who could ever keep a man like you chained down."

I stroked the back of her weathered hand. "You're right. If you leave me behind, I might actually burn this whole world to the ground."

"..."

"So you'd better live a long, long life for my sake."

She gave me a gentle smile. "All right. I'll try."

That was our last conversation.

She passed away shortly after.

A sea of mourners attended the funeral. I stood there without uttering a single word, staring blankly at the polished mahogany coffin. When everything was over and I finally returned home, only cold, sterile light greeted me.

Did you eat?

Don't stay up all night again.

The affectionate nagging that had once filled every corner of my days was gone. I sat alone at the kitchen table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

"Honey."

There was no answer. A faint, hollow chuckle escaped my lips.

"You didn't nag me today."

Of course she hadn't. There was no one left to say a word. The only shackle that had ever kept me bound to humanity was gone forever.

Unable to bear the quiet, I left the house and wandered aimlessly into the night.

Thwack!

"Hey, fuckface! Watch where you're walking!"

A foul stench of cheap liquor washed over me. A burly man stumbled out from a group of drunkards, slamming his shoulder hard against mine as he looked for a fight.

"Look at this prick glaring at me. You got a death wish?"

The moment his fist flew toward my jaw, my vision spun wildly. My head struck the asphalt, and the darkness rushed in to swallow my consciousness whole.

"Gah!"

My eyes snapped open.

There was no cracked cement. No alcohol-soaked alleyway.

Above me was a sleek, seamless ceiling forged from hyper-alloy. Around the chamber floated dozens of pale blue holographic panels, humming softly in the ambient chill.

"...Just a dream."

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. It had been quite some time since I'd revisited the final moments of my past life.

A small mechanical recon drone shaped like an eagle descended from the rafters, delivering its report in a flat, synthesized voice.

"Yeah. How long was I out, Dark?"

Dark. That was the moniker I had bestowed upon the vessel's primary AI. I had picked it offhandedly because saying 'Artificial Intelligence' every five seconds was a chore, but it suited the little bird well enough.

Geon stretched his limbs and glanced at the external monitoring feeds floating mid-air. Out in the black expanse of deep space, nothing remained of the hostile machines except minute metallic shards drifting through the vacuum.

"Figures. Damn gnats buzzing around first thing in the morning," Geon muttered, climbing out of bed with a lazy yawn.

Earth Alliance, Neo Terra, Arcadia—it made no difference to him. Whether they tore each other to pieces or wiped themselves out entirely was none of his concern.

A full year had passed since he crossed over into this universe and found himself sealed aboard this monolithic dreadnought. At first, lounging inside an invincible warship outfitted with every conceivable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠luxury had felt like paradise. The molecular synthesizer prepared any dish he fancied, the bed was decadently plush, and he could indulge in whatever entertainment he wanted from his previous life.

Yet even the most opulent penthouse grew stifling when you remained cooped up inside for an entire year.

"Dark."

"Yes, Commander."

"I've been stuck inside this tin can for twelve months straight. I feel like getting some fresh air and seeing actual people for a change. Got any good recommendations?"

He had no interest in military strongholds crawling with warmongers from Neo Terra or Earth. What he wanted was to see ordinary people living normal lives.

Perched upon Geon's shoulder, Dark promptly projected a holographic stellar cartography display.

"A location matching your parameters would be the commercial habitat situated in the neutral demilitarized zone: Imperial Orbital-04."

"Imperial Orbital-04?"

"Correct. It is a sovereign colony governed by strict non-aggression treaties enforced across all three major galactic factions. Due to the high influx of refugees, civilian merchants, and holidaymakers from each territory, its commercial districts and entertainment hubs are exceptionally well-developed."

"Oho, sounds perfect. But won't bringing this warship within visual range cause mass panic?"

"Affirmative. An overt approach by the Dien Fleet will trigger sector-wide emergency defense protocols at maximum readiness. Therefore, I advise conducting solo infiltration via a specialized escape pod disguised as civilian wreckage."

"A disguised pod?"

"While its outward aesthetic and transponder profile mimic an ordinary refugee craft, the internal structure incorporates a miniature dimensional distortion barrier and an identity spoofing module. You will be able to clear colony immigration without impediment."

Geon smirked at the AI's thoroughness. "Good thinking. First, let's get me some clothes."

He strolled over to the atomic synthesizer, dialing up a simple cotton t-shirt, relaxed trousers, and a worn leather jacket. He far preferred comfortable streetwear over stiff, gaudy uniforms or heavy armor plating.

After adjusting his collar, Geon headed out of the bridge toward Hangar Bay 3, the metallic eagle perched quietly upon his shoulder.

Tucked into a corner of the cavernous hangar was the pod. From the outside, it looked like a battered piece of junk salvaged from a junkyard, its chassis dented and scuffed. Yet the instant Geon stepped inside, he was met with ergonomic leather seating and a pristine high-resolution flight console.

Settling into the pilot's chair, Geon bit down on a cigar-shaped confection.

"Take us out, Dark."

"Initiating ejection sequence. Destination: Imperial Orbital-04."

Thump!

Pneumatic pressure hissed as the escape pod launched from the primary catapult tube of the Celestial Dawn, shooting out into the void. Hurled into the pitch-black ocean of stars, the small craft ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠accelerated rapidly toward the colossal colony, whose vibrant artificial lights gleamed like a festival jewel in the distance.

It's been far too long since I tasted peace like this.

Seria, the ace pilot and only daughter of the Neo Terra Alliance's Iron Blood 3rd Fleet Commander, sat on a café terrace, taking a cool sip of iced Americano.

She had chosen Imperial Orbital-04 for her official shore leave. Shedding her pilot suit for civilian attire and strolling through peaceful, bustling streets was enough to wash away months of combat fatigue.

Setting her coffee down, Seria watched the busy avenue until her gaze snagged on a single figure across the plaza.

In front of a street food stall selling grilled meat skewers stood a man, practically drooling as he stared at the grill.

...What is he doing?

Seria narrowed her eyes. The man's clothes looked distinctly shabby—a loose, faded outfit that seemed bought from a discount flea market. Resting on his shoulder was a beat-up toy bird, like some scrap robot picked out of a trash heap.

He was gazing at the sizzling skewers with the most pitiful, longing expression imaginable.

Ah... he must be one of the destitute refugees who fled the front lines recently.

A pang of sympathy tightened in Seria's chest. As the daughter of a high-ranking fleet commander, she projected a proud, unyielding demeanor while on duty, but at heart, she was soft-natured and could never turn a blind eye to someone in distress. Seeing a grown man unable to afford even a cheap skewer, smacking his dry lips in hunger, made her heart ache.

Rising from her chair, Seria walked over to the vendor's cart.

"Two skewers, please. Make sure they're browned nicely."

"Right away, miss!"

She tapped her credit chit to pay the merchant, then held out one of the steaming skewers right under the man's nose.

"Here. You've been staring at them for ages. Eat."

"Huh...?"

The man turned around, his eyes widening in surprise.

Seen up close, his features were strikingly clean-cut and handsome despite his ragged attire. His gaze bounced between the sizzling skewer and Seria's face before blossoming into a brilliant, childlike grin.

"Wow, thank you so much! Honestly, I'm completely broke, so I was just standing here wishing I could have one."

"It's nothing," she replied, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction as she led him over to a nearby stone bench by the fountain.

The man took a massive bite, groaning in absolute bliss. Seria sat beside him, watching him chew for a moment before speaking up gently.

"Where are you from? Even for a neutral territory, walking around dressed like that leaves you terribly vulnerable."

"Me? ...To tell you the truth, I have no idea."

"Excuse me? You don't know where you're from?"

"Yeah. I was drifting out in the void and barely made it here in an escape pod. I hit my head pretty hard on impact, so I can't remember my past at all." He laughed it off as if it were a minor inconvenience.

Seria's jaw dropped. "W-Was there no registry data or faction insignia on the pod?"

"I think an asteroid scraped it on the way in. The whole hull got crumpled, so all the identifying marks were wiped out. Haha."

Good grief... a civilian caught in the crossfire, stripped of his home and memories, barely clinging to life...

A deeper wave of compassion welled up within her. To smile so brightly after surviving such a terrifying ordeal—just how much grief was he hiding behind that cheerful front?

"There is one thing I remember, though," the man said, offering her an easy, disarming smile. "My name. It's Geon. I haven't introduced myself yet, have I? I'm Geon."

"...I'm Seria." She let out a soft breath, touched by his resilience. "You've been through so much, Geon. To suffer through such a terrible tragedy..."

"It is what it is. Ah, Miss Seria... I know this is shameless, but one skewer didn't really fill me up... Would it be too much to ask for an actual meal?" Geon held up the bare wooden stick, his eyes gleaming with shameless anticipation.

Seria let out an amused snort. She had reached out out of pity, yet this man had quite the brazen streak. Still, she found his sheer audacity endearing rather than offensive.

"Do you think I'm made of credits? You'd better pay me back once you get on your feet. I'm not kidding."

"Naturally! If you ever find yourself in danger or need help down the line, I swear I'll move heaven and earth to repay you."

His earnest declaration brought a genuine smile to Seria's lips.

From there, she treated him to a proper meal at a nearby diner, followed by drinks at a dessert parlor. For Seria, taking a break from the stench of blood and gunpowder to chat aimlessly with an ordinary civilian was a refreshing reprieve she hadn't experienced in years.

By the time the artificial sun dipped below the colony's horizon and the city lights flickered to life, the two stepped out of the café.

Seria looked at Geon, realizing he had nowhere to spend the night. Reaching into her coat, she pulled out a substantial wad of physical credit vouchers and pressed them into his palm.

"I had a wonderful time today, Geon. Use this to find a room for tonight and buy yourself meals tomorrow. Stop wandering the streets and look for a steady job as soon as you can."

Geon's eyes went wide as he felt the thick stack of bills in his hand.

"Whoa... you're doing this much for me? Thank you, Seria. Really."

"Hehe, just don't forget to pay me back once you're rich."

Seria waved her hand dismissively and turned to leave, thinking her day off had been remarkably well spent. But just as she took her first step—

WHEEEEEE-OOH! WHEEEEEE-OOH! WHEEEEEE-OOH!

A piercing siren shattered the evening calm, bathing the entire colony in blood-red warning strobes.

High above, the colossal dome of the residential sector flashed violently under a sudden barrage of orbital artillery. Explosions tore through the atmosphere, showering fiery debris down toward the streets.

BOOOM! CRUMBLE!

"Aaaah! It's a terrorist attack!"

"The Machine Empire! Arcadia's forces are invading!"

Hysterical screams erupted through the crowded thoroughfare. Screaming through the breaches in the ceiling came an armada of Arcadia's unmanned infiltration drones, flanked by squads of heavily armed clone troopers.

"This is impossible... A surprise assault on a neutral colony?!"

Seria froze, her hand flying instinctively to the sidearm concealed at her hip.

Then, her head snapped around in sheer panic toward the man she had just parted from—the helpless, amnesiac drifter named Geon, who was now standing completely defenseless in the middle of a slaughterhouse.