Gundam: Changing the World Even with a Mass-Produced Unit

Chapter 24: The Gundam That Brings People Together

"Although we were introduced earlier, let me formally introduce myself. I'm Lieutenant Eli Lee, leader of Squad 86, Kojima Battalion of the Far East Independent Mechanized Corps."

"Same unit, Second Lieutenant Amada Shiro."

"Same unit, Sergeant Karen Joshua."

"Same unit, Sergeant Terry Sanders."

When Amuro returned to the White Base's hangar last with his Gundam, the four members of Squad 86 had already disembarked. They saluted the captain as he arrived in the hangar.

"Ah, I'm Bright Noa, rank of Second Lieutenant, and... the captain of this White Base."

It was obvious that Bright had overheard Karen's earlier remarks. Now facing Eli, a lieutenant, and Amada Shiro, another second lieutenant, Bright didn't quite know how to position himself.

"No need to be nervous, Captain Bright. Let's address each other by our roles," Eli said with a smile.

As Eli turned his gaze to the legendary Gundam, Lin Youde, he instinctively opened the so-called system.

"Bright Noa: Age 19, Left Flank Critic, Master of Slaps, Wielder of Spinning Force."

Eli guessed that this system must have pulled comments from his previous life's internet forums to assign these character descriptions. Otherwise, why would it be this absurd?

Eli took the initiative to approach and extend his hand, signaling Bright to relax. At this time, Bright was still a green officer, far from becoming the legendary captain who commanded countless Gundams in the future.

After all, he was only 19 years old, the same age as Eli.

Bright visibly relaxed. His eyes widened significantly, no longer narrowed to the pinpoints they were when he first arrived.

"All right, Captain Eli." Bright shook Eli's hand firmly.

Poor Bright. Ever since SIDE 7, he had to lead the civilians aboard White Base through Zeon's blockade to Earth. Most of the MS pilots on the ship were unreliable, wearing him out physically and mentally. After landing on Earth, they encountered remnants of the defeated Federation Army rather than reinforcements.

Though White Base was hailed as a "miraculous ship" within the Federation, who could truly understand the immense pressure placed on Bright, a fresh graduate from the military academy?

It was no wonder Eli and the rest, as formal soldiers still in contact with Federation HQ, found Bright's plight heart-wrenching.

Eli's hand began to ache from Bright's grip.

"Are these... mass-produced Gundams?"

Fortunately, a youthful voice interrupted Eli's thoughts. Turning toward the sound, Eli saw Amuro, who appeared to have sprinted over. The boy was gazing up at the four mechs standing in a row. His tone carried an uncertain mix of excitement and disappointment.

"Amuro, maintain military discipline!"

Under normal circumstances, Bright wouldn't care about Amuro's casual behavior. However, in front of four professional soldiers, Bright nervously tried to make Amuro salute. It was, in fact, a way to protect Amuro. Yet, the latter didn't seem to appreciate it. He ran straight to the feet of the ground combat Gundam, inspecting it intently.

"Apologies, he gets like this whenever he sees machinery," Bright said anxiously.

A gentle female voice cut through the tension. Eli, Shiro, and the others looked past Bright to see two women in red military uniforms.

"Fraw Bow, Mirai Yashima? Why are you two here as well?" Bright's expression became even stiffer upon seeing the women. It was clear he had been trying to maintain a strong and reliable demeanor in front of Eli and the others, but unexpected interruptions kept thwarting his plans.

"Because Amuro is a complete mech fanatic... Also, Gundam was designed by his father. It's only natural he'd be moved seeing its mass-produced model," Fraw said, her tone as gentle as her image. She spoke almost like a doting mother excusing her child.

Her explanation was also a plea for the soldiers to forgive Amuro's behavior.

"Ah, I didn't know that..." Shiro lowered his hand from his salute, visibly intrigued by her words.

A father designing Gundams while his son piloted one—was that fortunate or unfortunate? Shiro couldn't help but wonder. Judging from Sanders and Karen's expressions, they were thinking the same thing.

Eli finally spoke up. "It's fine. I believe Amuro, as a Gundam pilot, is certainly qualified to inspect the ground combat variant."

Since Eli, the team leader, said so, Bright could only suppress his objections for now. Amuro, after examining the ground combat Gundam, walked back toward the group.

"This is... pretty amazing," he remarked.

Amuro's tone was entirely devoid of the gravitas of Zeon's most feared ace pilot. Instead, he sounded like the innocent teenager he truly was. Seeing this, Eli couldn't help but chuckle.

But his amusement didn't last long.

"So... does this mean I no longer need to pilot the Gundam?"

"Amuro!" Bright's suppressed frustration flared at Amuro's comment.

"You're disobeying orders!"

Still too young, Bright immediately let his emotions get the better of him.

"Disobeying orders? If the Federation can now produce MS, what happens to this Gundam doesn't matter anymore, right? The same goes for this ship. Whatever happens doesn't matter anymore!" Amuro retorted.

Bright opened his mouth to respond but found himself speechless. When they had first left SIDE 7, he believed the Federation needed the prototypes aboard White Base. But now, seeing the mass-produced Gundam models, that belief evaporated.

"Regardless, our mission is to follow Jaburo's orders and deliver this ship back to HQ!" With his resolve shaken by Amuro's words, Bright resorted to invoking military orders to stabilize himself.

"I'm not a soldier. You of all people should understand that," Amuro replied calmly, surprising Bright. Rather than shouting like he had in the past, Amuro seemed to have accepted something.

"If I could, I'd want to be like Doan, living far away from war," Amuro said, his gaze fixed on Bright. The young captain suddenly realized he had been treating Amuro as an adult, placing too much responsibility on him.

Amuro had simply been the one holding the ship together under immense pressure. Now, faced with real Federation soldiers and MS pilots, he was relieved of that burden. His desire to step away from piloting was only natural.