Reid's words once again left Siegel in silence, and even Patrick's anger seemed to subside somewhat.
After a long pause, whether Siegel genuinely realized the issue or was merely acting, a trace of shame appeared on his face. With great solemnity, he said to Reid,
"Mr. Reid, your grandfather was a great man. He saw things more clearly than I did."
After speaking, Siegel turned to Angie and bowed at a forty-five-degree angle in apology.
"Princess Angelise, your parents and siblings perished in the food crisis caused by the Anti-Neutron Jammer. Though, to prevent PLANT from suffering nuclear strikes again, even if I were to return to that moment, I would still make the same decision.
"As the Chairman of PLANT, I am willing to bear the sins for PLANT. Therefore, I offer you my sincerest apologies."
Siegel's apology caught Angie off guard. The Misurugi Empire here was entirely fabricated by the god who had dragged her into this world, and Angie felt no sense of belonging to it. Thus, faced with Siegel's apology, she found herself both amused and exasperated.
However, Reid, standing beside her, saw through Siegel's tactic—he was mirroring Reid's own approach, turning the tables with the same method.
Reid had just pointed out that PLANT had caused the deaths of many innocent nations, including the Misurugi Empire. To prevent this from becoming a bargaining chip in later negotiations, Siegel had swiftly apologized while also expressing his own reluctance to be dragged into a cycle of hatred.
After all, none of this would be recorded. Otherwise, the brawl between Reid and Patrick just now would have thoroughly humiliated both nations. Presumably, as long as the new Misurugi Republic didn't want to antagonize PLANT completely, the events in this meeting room would remain known only to those present. The official record would omit the earlier altercation.
Still, Reid couldn't speak on Angie's behalf—she was, after all, the nominal head of state.
Fortunately, Angie didn't fall for the trap. Mimicking Siegel's deflection tactic, she sidestepped the issue entirely and said,
"Alright, with the room in this state, we can't continue the meeting here. Let's move to another office."
With that, she walked straight to the door, opened it, and instructed the hotel staff to prepare another meeting room.
However, when the two PLANT guards outside saw the wreckage inside the room, they were utterly stunned. Their own Military Committee Chairman and the opposing mercenary leader both looked disheveled, as if they'd engaged in some rather intense exchanges.
The two guards were so startled they nearly drew their weapons to protect their superiors.
But Patrick anticipated their reaction. His expression turned stern as he immediately asserted the authority of the Military Committee Chairman, coldly demanding,
"I got a little restless and decided to spar with someone during the meeting. What's with that reaction? Do you have a problem with that?"
The guards stiffened at his tone, snapping to attention with a salute.
"No problem at all, Chairman!"
Satisfied, Patrick nodded and said,
"Stick to your duties. And forget anything you shouldn't have seen."
Without another glance at his two sweat-drenched bodyguards, Reid followed Siegel to the presidential suite arranged for them to change clothes.
When visiting another country, Patrick naturally brought extra clothing in case of unexpected stains or damage—now it came in handy.
Meanwhile, Reid also went to change. The matter of his involvement in Junius Seven didn't need to be explicitly discussed between them; it was tacitly set aside for now. The real negotiations would begin soon.
However, before the formal talks, both sides took the opportunity while changing to assess each other.
In the presidential suite within PLANT, Siegel watched his old friend wince in pain as he changed, half-teasing, half-inquiring:
"Patrick, you really are getting old. Twenty years ago, you wouldn't have taken such a beating in a fight. Still, that young man Reid does remind me a bit of you in your prime—fearless in the face of authority, firm in his convictions. A shame he was born into an era even worse than ours. But if he survives, his future will be limitless."
Patrick shot his old friend a glare and retorted,
"Hmph! That kid's nothing but a sly fox. I wouldn't even need twenty years—just ten years younger, and I'd have wiped the floor with him. And don't think I've forgiven what he did at Junius Seven. The moment I get the chance, I'll drag him before Lenore's grave and put a bullet in him myself."
He paused, then added grudgingly,
"But since he did at least try to save the civilians on Junius Seven, I'll hold off for PLANT's sake—for now."
Siegel's eyes lit up.
"Oh? So it's true that he really did notify our Recon ZINN?"
Patrick didn't deny it, nodding.
"It's true. To uncover the full truth, ZAFT confiscated all Mobile Suit and warship wreckage from the scene. The Recon ZINN Reid mentioned was shielded by a discarded construction platform, so it remained relatively intact. But its internal circuits were fried by the EMP blast, and the pilot didn't survive."
He continued,
"However, our technicians managed to recover the black box. The recordings inside confirmed that an Earth Alliance Moebius pilot had indeed warned us in advance."
Patrick's expression darkened.
"Still, to maintain domestic sentiment against the Earth Alliance, I never made that recording public. Even though it completely debunks their lie that we Colony Satellites carried out a self-destruct operation."
Siegel nodded in approval. A mere recording wouldn't be enough against the Earth Alliance's talent for twisting the truth—they'd just dismiss it as a fake.
What the Earth Alliance never expected was that there were survivors from the battle at Junius Seven. No wonder PLANT's intelligence network found almost nothing on Reid Isaac—the Eurasian Federation must have buried or destroyed his records as part of their dark history.
Now this was interesting. Siegel began to take a genuine interest in Reid. A Moebius pilot who narrowly escaped death, picked up by a fallen princess, rising to become something akin to a defense minister—and then leading a destitute nation to independently develop Mobile Suits. It sounded like the plot of an old East Asian novel from the last century. Yet here it was, playing out in reality.
So Siegel turned to Patrick and said seriously,
"Patrick, as you must be aware, many neutral nations are currently awaiting our stance toward the new Misurugi Empire.
If we seize the opportunity to destroy the new Misurugi Empire simply because they developed Mobile Suits without joining us, many neutral nations—especially the technologically advanced Orb—would likely immediately side with the Earth Alliance.
Although some of Orb's council members maintain good relations with us, with the precedent set by the Misurugi Empire, Orb wouldn't dare take the gamble. In truth, neither can we. We can't completely prevent the Earth from developing Mobile Suits—only slow their progress and strive for victory before they perfect their own. I hope you understand this."
Patrick now realized that his old friend had decided to make certain compromises regarding the Misurugi Empire. Though he somewhat scorned Siegel's perceived weakness, he had to admit—given that he hadn't yet fully descended into his obsession with annihilating Naturals—that Siegel's concerns were valid.
Politics required compromise based on circumstances. Though it rankled him, Patrick could only grit his teeth and endure for now.
After all, impatience could ruin grand plans. The Misurugi Empire might be weak, but it had unwittingly positioned itself at a critical juncture that could tip the scales of war. Even if that bastard Reid was trying to play both sides, Patrick told himself he'd have to wait until he secured the Chairman's seat before figuring out how to deal with him properly.
(End of Chapter)