February 14, CE70, outer space near the PLANT Colony Satellite Junius Seven. An Earth Alliance Forces' Agamemnon-class Carrier was slowly approaching a colony satellite, using the debris belt as cover.
Staff Sergeant Reid Isaac of the Artemis Fortress, a pilot under the Eurasian Federation branch of the Earth Alliance Forces, was making final preparations in his cockpit—the Alliance Mass-Produced Iron Coffin Moebius.
At this moment, Reid was unusually tense. The reason for his tension was that he had been temporarily reassigned to the Agamemnon-class Carrier Roosevelt for a mission to attack a PLANT Colony Satellite—and of all possible targets, it had to be Junius Seven.
What frustrated Reid was that he belonged to the Eurasian Federation, yet here he was, aboard an Atlantic Federation ship, sent on what was practically a suicide mission.
Yes, Reid knew this mission was almost certainly a death sentence—because he was a reincarnated soul in this godforsaken world. Moreover, he was just an ordinary European commoner, born naturally to parents who hadn't undergone genetic modification.
Though he retained memories of his past life and had some knowledge of major and minor events post-CE70—as well as a few pre-CE70 incidents—twenty-four years had passed without any sign of activating a so-called "golden finger." Not even when he'd nearly lost his life. By now, Reid had long given up on relying on cheats to skyrocket to success.
As for leveraging his foreknowledge to carve out a successful life, reality had proven too cruel. A small-time civilian like him could achieve nothing.
Now, Reid had only one wish: to survive the war.
The reason he'd become a soldier was twofold: first, out of necessity; second, because he didn't want to face death without even the ability to pull a trigger in resistance. Some experiences were best not repeated.
That was why Reid, despite his outstanding performance in all areas, had chosen to enlist in the defensive forces under the Artemis Fortress. Before the infamous "Plague Star" Archangel arrived, the fortress was renowned as an impregnable stronghold, and the survival rate for pilots stationed there was significantly higher than elsewhere.
Moreover, if he played his cards right later, he might even find a way to board the Archangel and join the protagonist's team. That would drastically improve his odds of survival during the first war, and in the future, he could even join Orb and pilot a Murasame. As for a Gundam—if he could get one, great; if not, Reid wouldn't lose sleep over it.
As for the Artemis Fortress commander being an arrogant fool, what did that have to do with a low-ranking grunt like him? As long as the man didn't withhold his pay and allowances, Reid could tolerate it.
But Reid had still underestimated the depths of the commander's idiocy. Just because he'd achieved an impressive record during ZAFT's assault on the fortress—downing one Recon ZINN and damaging two Standard ZINNs—his entire squad had been temporarily transferred to an allied Atlantic Federation ship.
When they'd set off, the commander had even patted him on the shoulder, calling it a "loan" and urging him to perform well. Reid couldn't help but wonder just how much the man had been bribed to sell them out like this.
Probably he thought that since ZAFT was currently entangled with the Earth Alliance's main forces, a surprise attack mission wouldn't be so easily accomplished, so he casually loaned out their elite squad.
Truth be told, if Reid had known in advance that he was being assigned to the unit attacking Junius Seven, he would've punched that idiot commander in the face on the spot. Being confined was still better than outright death. Even if he got transferred to other dangerous units afterward as punishment, the survival rate would be higher than attacking Junius Seven.
Unfortunately, it was too late for Reid to choose now. Even if he injured himself to stay aboard the Roosevelt, it would still mean certain death. Might as well take the gamble outside.
At this moment, due to the prolonged silence, Steve Rogers, the leader of Reid's squad, cracked a joke over the team comms to lighten the pre-battle atmosphere.
"Hey Reid, why so quiet during today's pre-battle prep? Did you spot some Atlantic Federation female officer on this ship that's got you distracted?"
Reid was speechless at this squad leader who shared the name of Captain America from his previous life. Little did he know what kind of battle awaited them.
But Reid's silence didn't mean others in the squad would stay quiet. After the leader spoke, another teammate immediately responded.
"Captain, you know Reid. Even when girls hit on him at bars, he's picky—his standards are sky-high. And he seems to prefer the competent type. We've been on the Roosevelt for two days now, and I haven't seen any female officers like that."
"Speaking of which, Reid, when we visited the Atlantic Federation Military Academy last time on Earth, did you ever get that officer Bargiruel's contact info in the end?"
Reid was speechless again. This guy clearly knew which topic to avoid. He'd only wanted to make a good impression on Bargiruel, the future deputy captain of the Archangel, but she'd politely rejected him, labeling him as frivolous and even giving him a "nice guy" card.
But now Reid had to retaliate. "Grelant, if you don't want me to spill the story about how you picked up a 'girl' in Copernicus City on the Moon only to find out she was an undercover cop, you'd better shut up right now!"
The moment Reid said this, Grelant screamed, "Hey! Reid! You just spilled everything! I paid you off with drinks to keep that quiet!!"
But the damage was done. Grelant could only rage over comms while the rest of the squad, clearly more interested in the undercover cop story, filled the channel with lively gossip. Much of the pre-battle tension dissipated.
However, Reid didn't let his guard down one bit. At this point, he had no choice but to brace himself and push forward. While there was still time, he had the mechanics load all four anti-ship missiles he could carry and fully stock the Linear Cannon ammunition.
Reid double-checked the propulsion and targeting systems, along with the most crucial detail—battery levels. If he remembered correctly, while this operation succeeded in bombing Junius Seven, the Roosevelt would be shot down.
Therefore, stubbornly defending the Roosevelt was not a viable option. Although the Neutron Jammers hadn't been fully deployed yet and missile radar guidance systems were still operational, the casualty ratio between both sides had remained around 1:5 since the war began. His Moebius, with virtually zero defensive capabilities, definitely couldn't hold out.
As for surrendering to ZAFT, anyone with half a brain knew they wouldn't take prisoners after just having their colony satellite nuked. The best outcome would be getting shot on the spot. The worst? A round of "enhanced interrogation" before being executed publicly.
There was only one way to survive now. Reid decided he'd better prepare to drift through space. He could only pray to encounter a Union or neutral organization's ship for rescue before his life support systems failed.
Of course, the primary condition was surviving the surprise attack on Junius Seven. If he fled before the Roosevelt was shot down, he'd be branded a deserter. There would be no place for him left in the Earth Alliance then.
And so, after a long yet fleeting fifteen minutes, the shipwide announcement came:
"All hands, battle stations. All hands, battle stations. All Moebius units, launch. All Moebius units, launch."
With the order given, Reid resigned himself to fate. He expertly piloted his Moebius to the launch runway. The CIC's clearance had already come through.
Gradually increasing the thrusters, Reid uttered his customary launch phrase:
"Reid Isaac, Moebius, launching!!"
(End of chapter)