The right arm was completely offline. Only a third of the funnel missiles and conventional missiles remained.
Half of the multi-purpose shield's armaments were dead; attempting to force the Mega Particle Cannon would likely result in it exploding in his face.
However, the large beam saber hilts, head Vulcans, and the Minovsky Flight system were all perfectly intact.
These were the resources Lane Aime had left. As a top-tier simulator pilot, he knew with agonizing clarity that the pilot of the red mono-eye machine across from him was an Ace among Aces.
The most despairing part?
Throughout the entire battle so far, whether it was the black unicorn or this red mono-eye, both enemy machines remained utterly unscathed.
But Lane could not retreat. Whether it was his pride or his position as a representative of the Federation, he could not—and would not—allow himself to back down before these "Zeon Remnants."
"Zeon never defeated the Federation in the past, and you remnants won't do it now either!"
Lane pushed the Penelope into a desperate charge toward the Sinanju, swinging a massive green beam saber with the intent to cleave the machine in two.
Inside the Sinanju, Roz remained silent, but the voice of the Machine Spirit rang clear in his ears.
"My... quite the hot-blooded young man, isn't he?"
The Machine Spirit's voice carried a hint of playful mockery. "But so reckless—that kind of personality doesn't exactly win a woman's heart."
"Then again, Roz, you're quite charming yourself. I took a liking to you the moment I woke up."
"Maybe save that talk for after this is over?" Roz sighed, watching the Penelope close in. "Let's go."
"Understood. Thruster output at 150%. Let's have a dance with this big white goose."
The Machine Spirit's voice turned languid. On the side monitor of the cockpit, one of the three performance locks flickered and disengaged.
The "wings" on the Sinanju's back flared outward. Four high-output thruster nozzles extended, erupting with plumes of blue flame far more violent than before.
To replicate the legendary "Red Comet's Three-Times-Speed," Roz had packed the propulsion system with overkill specs.
The Sinanju could maintain triple speed without breaking a sweat; the only real question was whether the pilot could survive it.
But for Roz, whom the entire crew of the Nahel Argama had collectively labeled a "concrete pillar" due to his sheer sturdiness, the G-force of this acceleration was merely a bit "stuffy."
The Sinanju closed the distance so fast that to any onlooker, it appeared to have turned into a blurred phantom.
"What?! It's even faster?!"
Lane's eyes widened, but his hands didn't stop moving.
He knew that stopping mid-maneuver would be suicide; his only hope was to brace for the impact and try to parry the momentum to stay in the fight.
In the next second, a massive tremor rocked the Penelope. The Beam Axe slammed into the already-dead right arm, the force of the blow sending the Penelope spinning away.
"Ugh...!"
The violent shock caused Lane's controls to slip slightly, but he still managed to fire the Penelope's shoulder cannons at the Sinanju.
Using the momentum of being knocked back to reposition, he pivoted the machine.
Alongside the pinkish-white beams from the shoulder cannons, the Penelope's head Vulcans roared, weaving a curtain of lead that—while unlikely to do real damage—was at least an intimidating barrage.
Facing the incoming beams from the shoulder cannons, the Sinanju—still charging headlong toward the Penelope—suddenly flared its attitude control verniers. The machine forced a violent descent, dipping beneath the beams in a jagged arc.
Completely ignoring the hail of Vulcan fire, the Sinanju tanked the shells against its armor and closed the distance. It swung the Beam Axe integrated into its shield.
The yellow plasma blade swept upward from the lower right to the upper left. Seeing the strike, Lane frantically maneuvered the Penelope to interpose its beam saber.
However, the moment the blades made contact, the Sinanju's right-side thrusters erupted in a brilliant blue burst.
The machine "shipped" to the left as if teleporting, causing the axe to slip around the saber's guard.
A flash of light followed. The Penelope's flight unit—specifically the protruding sensor component that resembled a swan's head—was sliced clean off. It tumbled away, crashing onto a deserted beach below.
In the next heartbeat, the Sinanju whipped its left leg around in a horizontal sweep, aiming a precise kick at the Penelope's right waist.
"What?!"
Stunned by the sudden loss of his main sensor, Lane barely had time to react.
He forced the Penelope to dodge to the left, but as the machine pivoted, the sweeping kick slammed into the massive chest plate of the flight armor, leaving a vicious, scorched gouge.
The beam blade on the Sinanju's leg retracted instantly. Roz then commanded a front kick against the battered Penelope.
The heat short-knives extended from the sole of the Sinanju's foot, sinking deep into the chest armor and shoving the Penelope backward with staggering force.
"Ugh... aaaaah!"
The sheer impact of this relentless, storm-like assault forced Lane into a state of semi-consciousness, his eyes squeezing shut from the pain.
Despite the agony, he relied on his last visual memory, blindly firing the shoulder cannons toward the blurred silhouette of the Sinanju.
The pinkish-white beams erupted once more, streaking toward the crimson machine. Roz watched the beams approach and executed a flawless barrel roll.
The shots missed, passing harmlessly behind the Sinanju's back.
In one fluid motion, Roz ejected the underslung rocket launcher stored behind the shield. The long-range beam sniper rifle extended, snapping into place as it docked with the launcher.
"Now!"
Forcing himself back into clarity, Lane saw the Sinanju emerging from its roll. He slammed a combination of buttons on his right grip, purging every remaining missile on the Penelope. A massive swarm of missiles, trailing thick white smoke, blanketed the sky as they surged toward the Sinanju.
Faced with the spectacle before him, Roz's heart didn't skip a single beat.
"All missiles have been tagged for you. The underslung launcher is loaded with your favorite beam-shot shell magazine," the Machine Spirit's languid voice whispered in his ear once more. "Those last few moves were truly exquisite."
Roz kept the Sinanju in its rolling maneuver, raising the long-range beam sniper rifle and zeroing in on the Penelope's shoulder cannon, which had just finished its cooling cycle.
Three rapid bursts of yellow light struck the Penelope's right shoulder with surgical precision.
Two hit the armor plating flanking the cannon, while the final bolt slammed directly into the shoulder cannon itself.
"Ugh, aaaaah...!"
The violent shuddering worsened the already battered state of the Penelope, as thick plumes of black smoke began to pour from its shoulder joint.
Immediately following the hit, Roz toggled the weapon link and squeezed the trigger. Rocket-propelled beam-shot shells, set with proximity fuses, streaked out from the underslung launcher.
They detonated precisely in front of the incoming missile swarm, erupting into dense clouds of tiny, high-intensity beams that formed a wall of intercepting fire.
Dozens of missiles were peppered by the shrapnel-like beams and blossomed into explosions. However, a small cluster of conventional missiles and those persistent Funnel Missiles managed to weave through the gaps, continuing their hunt for the Sinanju.
Roz depressed the pedal slightly. The Sinanju's rear thrusters roared with even thicker flames, propelling the machine at a speed that allowed it to punch through the gaps in the remaining missiles before they could complete their encirclement.
"Two beam-shot shells remaining," the Machine Spirit reminded him.
"Prepare to swap for the High-Explosive magazine."
Roz cast a glance at the missiles he had just bypassed. Having lost their lock due to the Sinanju's sheer speed and the sharp turn, the conventional missiles either veered off to explode in the ocean or spiraled into the distance.
The Funnel Missiles, however, remained deathly fixated on the Sinanju's back.
With practiced ease, Roz flipped the Sinanju around to face its pursuers. He aimed at the few remaining Funnel Missiles and emptied the last two beam-shot rockets.
The sudden, dense curtain of light left the Funnel Missiles with no room to maneuver; they slammed into the barrier and vanished in a series of dazzling fireballs.
The empty rocket magazine automatically detached and fell toward the sea. A fresh magazine loaded with High-Explosive (HE) rounds popped out from the shield, caught by the Sinanju's left hand, and smoothly slammed into the launcher.
Everything had happened with such terrifying fluidity that by the time Lane tried to mount a counter-offensive, he realized he was down to nothing but his Vulcans and beam sabers.
The Sinanju pivoted once more, raising its beam rifle toward the defenseless Penelope.
High-explosive rockets, interspersed with three-round bursts of yellow beams, streaked toward the Penelope.
Seeing the onslaught, Lane's eyes widened instinctively. He raised his sole remaining left arm, thrusting the battered and broken multi-purpose shield forward as a makeshift bulwark.
His head Vulcans thundered incessantly as he forced the machine into a desperate retreat.
It had to be said that Lane—having earned the right to pilot the Penelope through his victory in the simulators—possessed genuine skill.
His Vulcan fire successfully intercepted and detonated two of the high-explosive rockets in mid-air.
However, in the next heartbeat, a dense cluster of yellow beams slammed into the Penelope.
The sheer kinetic impact warped the machine's flight posture, while the concentrated thermal energy rapidly stripped away its anti-beam coating.
Like an avalanche gathering momentum, the high-explosive rockets broke through the Penelope's defensive screen and blossomed into fire across its frame.
Boom, boom, boom...
Successive flashes of fire blinded Lane's vision. Piercing alarms shrieked in his ears, but he could only watch helplessly as the rockets and beams hammered his unit.
Even the beam saber in his hand was caught in an explosion and snuffed out. Then, an even greater crisis materialized before him.
Likely due to shrapnel from the explosions shredding the cooling fins, the Minovsky Flight system overheated and forced an emergency shutdown.
Without its support, the Penelope could no longer maintain its hover.
Like a stone dropped from a great height and pelted continuously along the way, it traced a jagged parabola and plunged into the sea.
Watching the scene unfold, Roz raised an eyebrow and checked the remaining ammunition in the underslung launcher.
"Only one round left. What's your move?"
The Machine Spirit voiced exactly what Roz needed to know.
Upon hearing the answer, Roz didn't hesitate for a single second. He fired the final high-explosive rocket directly toward the spot where the Penelope had hit the water.
Consider it adding a bit of "smoked" flavor to this "Salted Goose."
"Phew... so, what do you think now?"
Only then did Roz finally let out a breath, questioning the mysterious Machine Spirit.
"It was so-so. I'd give that battle about a seven or eight out of ten."
The Machine Spirit's voice sounded as if she were deep in thought, yet her translucent right hand reached through his helmet, flicking Roz's jaw as if she were stroking a cat. "But for you personally? I'd give you a ten."
"In that case... let's save the rest of the talk for when we get back."
Roz glanced at his radar and made a decision.
"The battle isn't over yet."
Though he was dying to know what was going on with this Machine Spirit, the Kimberley reinforcements were starting to slow down, so he could afford to wait a little longer.
"A wise choice."
The Machine Spirit withdrew her right hand and rested both hands on Roz's shoulders. "I'm starting to like you more and more, Roz."
Perhaps because the Machine Spirit was leaning in a bit too close, Roz inexplicably felt something soft pressing against the back of his head—a sensation certainly not coming from the pilot's seat.
The Sinanju slammed a final magazine into the underslung rocket launcher and veered back toward the smoke-filled battlefield of Palmerston North.
-----------------------------------
Not far from the site of the duel between the Sinanju and the Penelope, a relentless aerial dogfight was unfolding.
The Delta Gundam Kai, wreathed in cyan-blue flames, streaked through the sky.
Behind it, two Jegans pushed their thrusters to the brink, disregarding propellant consumption in a desperate chase.
Yet, they couldn't close the gap by even a fraction of an inch, their beam rifle potshots trailing futilely in the Gundam's wake.
Graham Aker, his eyes behind his mask sharp as an unsheathed blade, surveyed the chaotic battlefield.
Nearby, two ReZELs were performing "anti-human" counter-thrust maneuvers, dancing circles around a group of Federation MS that had lost their Kessaria transports.
But the moment any enemy machine tried to break away—either to retreat or head toward Palmerston North—the Mega Particle Cannons on the ReZELs proved they weren't just for show.
Red-purple beams would unerringly pierce the cockpits of those stray units.
"Good... now, keep your eyes peeled!"
Slicing through the enemy formation once more, the Delta Gundam Kai's sharp, shield-like prow—shaped like a massive blade—gouged into the midsection of a Jegan. The shield-mounted Mega Particle Cannon fired at point-blank range.
The red-purple beam vaporized the Jegan's upper torso, and the wreckage was sheared in half as the Delta Gundam tore through the remains.
"Witness... my Graham Special!"
Graham's eyes widened slightly as he slammed the pedals and blurred his hands across the controls.
The Delta Gundam Kai, still trailing blue-green fire, suddenly transformed mid-flight at high speed.
Its legs snapped forward at a 45-degree angle, and massive plumes of flame erupted from the high-output leg thrusters.
The machine came to a violent, forced halt, using the sheer momentum to begin an instantaneous vertical climb.
"Ngh...!"
The staggering G-force from the sudden stop forced Graham to grit his teeth. Then, he squeezed the trigger.
The long-range Mega Particle Cannon reached full charge in an instant.
A thick, red-purple torrent of energy erupted from the barrel, sweeping across the airspace directly beneath the machine.
The Jegans that had been biting at the Delta's heels were caught completely off guard; they collided head-on with the massive beam.
Their anti-beam coatings were stripped away in a millisecond, their armor glowing white-hot before melting and erupting into a chain of explosions.
Having completed the stunt, Graham coughed twice, catching his breath as the G-force subsided.
At that moment, a torrential surge of fury filled Graham's heart—perhaps fueled by the activation of the NITRO System, or perhaps by the raw indignation he felt upon witnessing the battle's grim reality.
"That's right, Delta... I am furious, too!"
Graham maneuvered the machine to slip past a beam fired by a Gustav Karl.
He countered instantly, raising the long-range Mega Particle Cannon and squeezing the trigger; the violet-red beam blasted the Gustav Karl's shield clean off.
"Seeing such misery, such a man-made tragedy... my heart, my very soul, is being incinerated by this rage!" Graham roared, his eyes wide and burning with intensity.
"Graham Funnels!"
Two specially-made Wing Funnels, having just finished their recharge, detached from the Delta Gundam Kai's back.
They traced eerie, unpredictable trajectories through the sky, guided by Graham's brainwaves—now heightened by the NITRO System—as they hunted down two Jegans.
"I will never let you pass!"
Graham closed his eyes slightly, feeling the sensory feedback of the Wing Funnels in his mind. "This act of stealing lives for the sake of greed... I will not permit it!"
Then, as if the lock-on was finalized, he snapped his eyes open.
"This is... my Bushido!"
Dense clusters of white beam-shrapnel erupted across the battlefield, plunging the airspace into further chaos.
"Mr. Bushido is certainly motivated..."
Louise, currently piloting a ReZEL equipped with the Defenser A-Unit backpack, curled her lip as she rained missiles down upon the Kimberley MS. "Container 3 is empty. I'm down to my last rack of missiles."
"Louise, conserve your ammo. They're still sending in more reinforcements."
Tsubaki Kakyoin, piloting the ReZEL Defenser B-Unit, operated her twin Mega Particle Cannons as if they were equipped with a multi-lock system.
With incredible split-second focus, she unerringly sniped every Kessaria transport carrying MS while deftly weaving through incoming fire from all directions.
In truth, the ReZEL lacked an integrated multi-lock system; this feat was purely the result of her own manual calculations and spatial awareness.
Suddenly, as if witnessing something truly incredible, Tsubaki Kakyoin's eyes widened.
"Whoa, Mr. Bushido pulled it off again... it's a Rider Kick!"
"It's just a standard flying kick with a few added fire effects, okay? We can all do that move," Louise retorted.
Beneath this chaotic stretch of airspace, all sorts of MS wreckage—buoyed by the air trapped within their internal cavities—bobbed and drifted atop the rolling waves of the sea.
-----------------------------------
Inside the Kimberley unit's command center, Kimberley was in the middle of a violent tirade.
"Attack! Keep attacking!"
Staring at the monitors, he saw the front lines stalling—worse, they were being pushed back.
It looked like they were about to be driven out of Palmerston North entirely. Kimberley, consumed by a helpless rage, slammed his fist onto the command console. "Filthy Zeon vermin!"
This was his final chance to scrape together some military merit before the new commander arrived. Recalling his past failures, he refused to let this operation slip through his fingers.
"Sir, our losses are simply too catastrophic. Most of the units near New Zealand have been intercepted by the Zeon Remnants' Delta Gundam Kai, and they've even deployed a Full Armor Zaku-type unit within Palmerston North itself."
Finally, unable to watch the madness continue, one of the officers serving as Kimberley's adjutant spoke up.
"Furthermore... the Penelope has transmitted a crash signal from the Tasman Sea off the west coast of Palmerston North. Sir... we've already lost."
Hearing his adjutant's words, Kimberley's brain seemed to stall for a moment. Though he was blinded by greed for merit, he still possessed enough tactical sense to recognize a meat grinder when he saw one.
But he was caught between the allure of a promotion and the looming shadow of a post-retirement purge; he felt he couldn't stop now.
"No... we haven't lost yet. Where is the reserve unit!?" Kimberley gritted his teeth, making a desperate call. "Send the reserves in! We must take Palmerston North!"
The adjutant frowned, contemplating the order for a long, heavy moment. Then, as if reaching a final resolution, he took a deep breath and spoke.
"...I'm sorry, Colonel Kimberley, but I cannot obey that order. We cannot continue to commit troops. It is nothing but a senseless increase in casualties."
The adjutant had mentally prepared himself for his career to hit a dead end, or even for a court-martial, but he stood his ground to halt Kimberley's decision. "The young men in the reserves—the soldiers who haven't even stepped onto the battlefield yet—their lives are precious. They cannot be squandered on such a meaningless offensive!"
Hearing the adjutant's words, Kimberley snapped. He slammed his hand onto the command console with a thunderous bang, glaring venomously at the man.
"Fran! You actually dare to defy me? By whose authority do you think you can stop me!?"
"By mine!"
A harsh, booming roar erupted from the speakers, causing both Kimberley and the adjutant named Fran to freeze in their tracks.
Kimberley spun toward the massive array of monitors. On one of the central screens, Kenneth Sleg appeared in full Federation uniform, his brow furrowed as he stared sternly into the camera.
"I am the new commander of the Kimberley Unit, Colonel Kenneth Sleg."
With those words, Kenneth held up a document that had clearly only recently gone into effect.
"Kimberley, this is the Federation's latest appointment order. As of this moment, you are no longer the commander of this unit!"
"I am now declaring an immediate withdrawal from Palmerston North. Recover all survivors and operable mobile suits. Most importantly, prioritize the recovery of the Penelope!"
"As for you, Kimberley..."
After issuing his first command as commander, Kenneth looked at the man on his screen with eyes devoid of any warmth or sympathy. "I have already notified the Federation Military's Internal Affairs Bureau. Prepare yourself."
.....................