The humid air of the South American jungle screamed as the massive engines of the Grandknight—a heavy-class federation assault carrier—ignited. The ground trembled, birds scattered in a panicked cloud, and the gargantuan ship began to lift its bulk from the hidden subterranean dock. Inside, eight specialized Mobile Suits stood locked in their hangers, with the crimson-painted Red One Gundam acting as the beating heart of the small fleet.
But the departure wasn't a secret for long.
Back at the Federation's High Command center, monitors flashed red. General Vance, a man whose soul had been bought and paid for by Colonial lobbyists years ago, slammed his fist on the mahogany table. "Salia Bernekin! That brat is stealing military property! Stop that ship! If it doesn't ground itself in thirty seconds, shoot it out of the sky!"
Outside the base, the "loyalist" forces scrambled. Dozens of GMS (General Mobile Suits)—the Federation's standard-issue units with their slim bodies, green visor heads, and basic beam spray guns—swarmed the air like angry hornets. They formed a blockade, their shields raised, blocking the Grandknight's path to the stratosphere.
"Grandknight, this is Federation Control! Power down immediately or we will open fire!" the radio crackled with cold authority.
Inside the cockpit of the Red One Gundam, Salia Bernekin felt a cold fury washing over her. She adjusted her neuro-link headgear, her maroon eyes glowing with a dangerous light. "Hobs, open the catapult hatch. I'm going out."
"Commander? It's a swarm out there! You'll be a sitting duck!" Hobs yelled through the comms.
"No," Salia whispered, gripping the twin control sticks. "I'll be the wake-up call. Launch me!"
The magnetic catapult hissed. In a streak of crimson light, the Red One Gundam shot out from the belly of the Grandknight. It didn't just fly; it carved through the air with a grace that made the standard GMS units look like rusted toys.
"What is that?!" a loyalist pilot screamed as the unidentified red unit did a high-speed flip over their formation. "That's not a Federation spec! Target the red unit! Fire!"
A rain of beam spray hit the sky, but Salia was a phantom. She pushed the thrusters, the Red One dancing between the shots. She didn't fire back. Not yet. Instead, she opened a wide-band communication channel, hacking into every Federation cockpit within a fifty-mile radius.
"This is Commander Salia Bernekin to all Federation brothers and sisters!" her voice rang out, crackling with raw emotion. "Look at yourselves! Look at what you're defending! We are sitting in the dirt, hiding in holes, while the Colonial Kings turn our home into their playground! Is this why you joined? To guard the desks of old men who are too scared to look at the stars?"
The GMS pilots hesitated. Their targeting reticles hovered over the Red One, but many didn't pull the trigger.
"Salia, shut up! You're a traitor!" General Vance's voice broke into the channel. "Pilots, destroy her! That's an order!"
"An order from who, General? A man who hasn't seen a battlefield in twenty years?" Salia countered, her voice rising in passion. "I'm going to Neo-Verdia. I'm going to stand with the White Bird because they are the only ones actually fighting for Earth! If you still have a drop of pride in your blood—if you still love this planet—stop being puppets! Join me! Protect the people you love, not the cowards who sell your lives for peace treaties!"
The sky went quiet for a heartbeat. Several GMS units lowered their rifles. The pilots looked at the Red One—a machine that looked like a dream of what the Federation should have been.
"I... I can't do this," one young pilot muttered, pulling his GMS away from the blockade. "She's right. We're just guarding a graveyard."
One by one, GMS units began to break formation. Some hovered in place, refusing to fire. Others turned their backs and began to fly alongside the Grandknight.
"Cowards! Deserters!" Vance screamed from the command center. "If you won't kill her, the cannons will! Activate the Anti-Air Beam Batteries! Wipe them all out!"
Suddenly, massive turrets hidden in the jungle foliage rotated upward. A titanic surge of energy gathered at their muzzles.
"Grandknight, evasive maneuvers!" Salia barked.
Two massive beams of pure white light tore through the sky, narrowly missing the ship's hull. Salia didn't wait for a second shot. She flipped the Red One into a steep dive.
"You want to play rough? Fine. Let's see how you like the Kimeza touch!"
Salia pulled the triggers. The dual short cannons on her backpack roared. Two heavy shells slammed into the first turret, turning it into a fountain of molten slag. She followed up with her high-accuracy beam rifle, snapping off three shots that detonated the cooling systems of the remaining batteries.
The jungle floor erupted in a series of massive explosions.
"We're clear! Grandknight, full throttle!" Salia ordered. But as the ship began to break the atmosphere, a new set of signals appeared on her radar. Black icons. Cold. Fast.
From the clouds above, six dark, jagged Mobile Suits descended. They didn't look like Federation tech. They were sleek, matte black, and armed with high-frequency vibrating blades and stealth-coated rifles.
"The Black Hunt squad..." Hobs gasped over the radio. "Wait... those are Colonial-spec assassination units! What are they doing here?!"
Salia's blood ran cold. She saw the markings on the black units—the crest of the Saturnian King's personal guard.
"General Vance... you dog," Salia hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of heartbreak and pure, unadulterated rage. "You didn't just sell us out... you're literally hosting Colonial hitmen in our own backyard. You've been working with them this whole time."
The Black Hunt units didn't talk. They dived, their vibrating blades humming with a lethal frequency, aiming straight for the Grandknight's engines.
"Not today," Salia growled. She reached back, unsheathing the two beam sabers from the Red One's rear armor. The blades ignited—not the standard pink, but a fierce, burning crimson.
"You sold our soul to the Kings, Vance! You let them murder our people and you called it 'diplomacy'!" Salia screamed into the radio. "This unit was built by Airi Kimeza—the woman you tried to kill! And today, she's going to use me to take her planet back!"
The Red One Gundam's thrusters erupted in a violent burst of flame. Salia met the first Black Hunt unit head-on. The black pilot tried to parry with his vibro-blade, but the Red One's crimson saber sliced through the metal like it was paper.
C-R-A-C-K-L-E!
The black unit exploded in a ball of fire. Salia didn't stop. she spun the Red One, her beam pistols sliding out of her waist armor. Pew! Pew! Pew! She fired a barrage of precision shots, hitting the thrusters of two other black units, sending them spiraling toward the jungle below.
"The Red One... it's like a demon," a GMS pilot whispered, watching the crimson Gundam dismantle the elite assassins in seconds.
"All units following me!" Salia commanded, her voice now a steady, terrifying calm. "We are no longer the 'Federation.' From this moment on, we are the Red Knight Squadron. We're going to Neo-Verdia, and we're going to show the Kings that Earth isn't for sale!"
The Grandknight broke through the clouds, leaving the burning jungle and the corrupt generals behind. The crimson Gundam flew at the head of the fleet, its eyes glowing red against the darkness of the rising stars.
Salia looked at the digital photo of Airi on her dashboard.
"The board is set, Airi," she whispered. "The Red Knight is coming to the party."
To be continued...