Chapter 57: New Arrangements

The exchange of prisoners of war actually took place right outside the gates of the Zeon Military Academy in the Protectorate district. The Federation forces had already evacuated the academy in accordance with the agreement and returned all assets seized during the operation. Naturally, any compensation for the destruction caused was entirely out of the question.

As for the fallen soldiers, Zeon was expected to foot the bill for their pensions. The mere thought of having to distribute pensions to residents of other sides left Prime Minister Darcia too stressed to eat. After all, circumstances differed; for the citizens of Zeon, issuing Zeon marks and ration tickets was sufficient. Although the former could not actually buy anything, the ordinary populace at least recognized them, and the ration tickets guaranteed that their families would have enough food to avoid starvation for a considerable period. Furthermore, the Zeon government could compensate them by waiving atmospheric and military service taxes.

However, that approach would not work for residents of external territories, who only recognized Federation currency. To them, Zeon marks were nothing more than toilet paper—a bit too stiff, in fact, and prone to scratching. Everyone sympathized with Zeon, but nobody wanted to live under Zeon's rule. Consequently, the compensation paid to the families of those fallen outsiders had to be delivered in pure gold! Fortunately, the donations previously collected from various colonies quickly reached the hands of the Zeon government. Prime Minister Darcia had calculated how to allocate these funds long in advance: first, sixty-five percent would be directed toward military-industrial production; another twenty-five percent would be used to further expand the scale of the military; and out of the remaining ten percent, a tiny sliver could still be squeezed out.

As for the ordinary civilians of Zum City, they would simply have to endure a bit more hardship. In any case, they were not completely unable to survive; if they truly ran out of food, they could always enlist in the military!

At least the Prime Minister did not need to worry about the rising unemployment rate. Because Zum City had been battered into a miserable state by Federation artillery fire, the reconstruction required a massive amount of labor—numbering at least in the hundreds of thousands. Therefore, within the next six months, Zeon's unemployment rate would not climb any higher. Moreover, because the initial construction lacked proper planning, Gihren was not particularly fond of Zum City's cityscape. Right now, hundreds of designers were working around the clock to draft blueprints, preparing to present a favorite gift to the Supreme Leader.

"Garma!"

Seeing his younger brother step down from the Federation military truck in a sloppy uniform, Dozle, who had been waiting anxiously at the school gates for a long time, burst into tears. Throwing aside all regard for anyone else present, he rushed forward and pulled Garma into a tight embrace, weeping uncontrollably.

"Brother! Brother Dozle!"

Garma was still just a young man who had yet to graduate. Although he had been well-fed, clothed, and spared from physical abuse while in the custody of the Federation forces—subjected to nothing more than necessary interrogation without any bullying—he had still lived in constant fear, dreading the day he might be dragged out and shot.

Yet now, upon returning home, his genuine emotions poured out, and he sobbed helplessly.

"Mr. Garma, Mr. Char, you're back! Thank you, goodness gracious!"

Sena was also shedding tears of relief. During these past few days, she had spent her nights and days praying for her fellow classmates. After all, if she hadn't gone out of her way to stall Dozle back then, she might very well have been among the casualties!

"Sena, seeing you here is wonderful!"

"Don't worry, you'll get to see her every day from now on! From now on, you'll need to call her sister-in-law!"

Dozle patted Garma on the shoulder, wiped away his tears, and broke into a beatific smile.

"Ah?"

Garma's expression instantly twisted into a look of shock. Of course, he harbored no inappropriate feelings toward Sena; he was simply so stunned by this sudden revelation that his mind failed to process it. The world was progressing far too quickly!

Meanwhile, Char arched an eyebrow, realizing that he still did not understand Dozle well enough.

After the weeping subsided, Dozle extended his condolences to the other surviving cadets. They all looked relatively healthy; the wounded had received proper medical treatment from the Federation forces, and there had been no deliberate mutilations or amputations. Aside from a certain degree of mental fatigue, they looked almost identical to when they had first set out.

"Everyone, Zeon is grateful for your dedication. Although your mission failed, the fault does not lie with you. There is no need for any of you to feel guilty. Please hold your heads high and let the entire academy behold the heroes who have returned safely!"

Dozle comforted them with these words. At his command, the cadets standing in neat rows on both sides of the school gates snapped their arms up in unison, rendering a crisp military salute.

Garma and the others hurriedly returned the salute. Then, the booming echoes of ceremonial cannons rang out, and a support squad organized by the lower-class female students rushed forward to present the returning men with fresh flowers.

"Oh, Brother Dozle, there is something I need to discuss with you!"

Garma gently pushed away a female student trying to burrow into his arms and pulled Dozle aside.

"What is it?"

"I suspect there is a Federation spy among us!"

Dozle's expression instantly turned grave. Pulling Garma along as they continued forward, he said,

"Let's not talk about this right now. After the welcoming ceremony is over, we will discuss it!"

"Understood!"

What Garma wanted to talk about was, naturally, the name Makarius had mentioned to him that day. Garma had been repeating it in his head every single day while in prison, burning it deeply into his memory.

In all fairness, Garma did not think this fellow was actually a spy. After all, who would genuinely reveal the identity of a spy belonging to their own faction?

Therefore, Garma figured that this Anavel Gato fellow must have offended Makarius in some way, prompting the latter to pull such a stunt. Well, wasn't an enemy's enemy a friend?

To have been remembered with such malice by Makarius suggested that this guy might just be a rare talent!

Conversely, however, this could also be some sort of psychological warfare—a tactic used by the enemy to conceal Gato's true identity as a spy. In short, Garma could not make heads or tails of it himself, which was why he needed to tell Dozle.

Once the celebration concluded, inside Dozle's office, Dozle listened in silence as Garma recounted the entire sequence of events. After a moment of deep thought, he said,

"Your thinking has merit, but it's unnecessary. Since this person has already been exposed by the other side, then regardless of whose side he is actually on, he is fundamentally compromised!"

"But we don't even know his true identity!"

"It doesn't matter, we will find out very soon. Garma, pack your things. We are returning to Zum City; His Majesty wants to see you!"

"Understood!"

Garma experienced a sudden flash of insight. Of course! In Zeon, aside from his eldest brother Gihren, the person who commanded the most formidable intelligence network was none other than his elder sister Kycilia. With either of them on the case, anything could be resolved!

"By the way, Brother, what are we going to do after that?"

"Are you asking about your next assignment?"

"Yes. In my current state, I suppose I can no longer serve in the Zeon military, right?"

"No, of course you can. In fact, I have already prepared your commission!"

Dozle retrieved a file from his drawer. It was an order granting Garma Zabi the rank of Second Lieutenant and simultaneously transferring him to serve in the Zeon Assault Mobile Force.

"Then... what about my comrades? Can they come with me—"

Garma caught himself and stopped speaking when he saw Dozle shaking his head.

"The uprising failed, and someone has to take the blame. Garma, you are the son of Zeon's leader, so they must be dismissed and disciplined!"

"Just because I cannot bear the responsibility for the failure alone, is that it?"

"Yes!"

Dozle sighed.

"That's not fair..."

"This is His Majesty's will!"

Garma stopped arguing at that point, choosing instead to silently clench his fists.

Shortly thereafter, at the docks of the Protectorate district, a massive red warship emerged from the dark expanse of space and docked at the berth.

This colossal warship, rivaling the Federation's Magellan-class battleships in size, was a Gwazine-class battleship developed by the Principality of Zeon. It was built specifically to counter the Federation's Magellan class, and to achieve this, the Gwazine was designed with superior combat capabilities compared to its counterpart.

However, such a formidable warship required a staggering amount of resources for Zeon to produce. Consequently, only two ships of this class had entered service thus far, serving respectively as the private flagships of Sovereign Degwin and Supreme Leader Gihren.

And now, the vessel that had arrived at the Protectorate district was Degwin's flagship, the *Great Degwin*.

This ship normally performed training missions in deep space, but now, specifically to welcome his son, Degwin had dispatched it to the Protectorate district.

Accompanying the Gwazine were several Zeon Musai-class cruisers.

Logically speaking, other vessels would have sufficed for picking someone up, but for the sake of projecting power, the Zeon side had deliberately deployed capital ships.

Yet, this display of Zeon bravado elicited no response whatsoever from the First Fleet stationed in the same sector. The Federation forces acted as though they could not see them at all, continuing with their respective duties as if nothing were happening. This left the Zeon fleet commander feeling as though he had thrown a heavy punch into a pillow, leaving him utterly frustrated.

Bound by his orders, however, he could only silently collect the passengers and return to Zum City.

Upon arriving at Zum City, Garma was greeted by a vast, rolling sea of humanity.

An even greater crowd of Zeon civilians than the one during the previous riots flooded the streets. Enormous banners hung across thoroughfares, and celebratory confetti fluttered everywhere. In short, the returning military cadets were met with the highest possible honors. After all, the Zeon civilian propaganda machine had framed the cadets' actions as an uprising sparked by their righteous disgust at the Federation's suppression of citizens. Thus, in the eyes of the populace, these cadets were nothing short of heroes.

Alongside the returning cadets, photographs of those who had fallen were also displayed, receiving the reverence of the crowds alongside Garma and his peers.

"Sigh, one group of children killing another group of children on a battlefield—what kind of madness is this?"

Ramba Ral and his fiancée Haman were also mingling among the crowd. Gazing at the black-and-white portraits of those youthful faces, Ramba Ral sighed. He was already aware of the general outline of the battle, and in his view, the root cause of this tragedy lay squarely with the Zabi family. Yet, for the time being, he remained utterly powerless to change it!

"Casval, where on earth are you?"

Ramba Ral muttered to himself, his gaze drifting past Char, who was standing right beside Garma.

Char could not help but sneeze, prompting Garma to promptly and thoughtfully hand him a handkerchief.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind, Garma!"

"I'm sorry, Char. I... I have something I need to tell you!"

Surveying the cheering citizens around them, Char replied without looking back.

"If you are referring to our future assignments, I have already made my preparations!"

Char felt not a shred of unhappiness; he was finally free from having to wait upon this young master of the Zabi family, and he intended to enjoy a thorough period of rest!

"Don't worry, Char, I will definitely find a way to sort this out later!"

Char's carefree attitude was misinterpreted by Garma as a brave front masking inner grief, prompting him to offer immediate reassurance.

Following the grand welcoming ceremony, Garma finally stood within the magnificent halls of the palace to meet his father!

"Garma, my boy!"

Under the watchful eyes of his two elder brothers and sister, Garma was pulled into a warm embrace by Degwin. Faced with such a touching scene, Dozle's eyes grew red once more, while Gihren and Kycilia simply stared at the ceiling and the carpet respectively.

"Promise me, you will never pull a stunt like this again, understand?"

"I'm sorry, Father!"

Looking up at his father's sharply pointed and reflective pate, Garma felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He had only been away at the military academy for a few years, yet his father had aged so dramatically. He truly had been far too immature!

"From now on, you will report to the Mobile Force and assist your brothers! The future of the Zabi family relies on you all to strive for it!"

"Understood!"

"Father, may I bring a few people with me?"

Garma asked in a tentative whisper.

"Who do you want to bring? That Char Aznable?"

Degwin's previously genial expression instantly froze into frost.

"If not for him, how could you have become a prisoner of war!"

"Father, you—?"

"Don't underestimate my intelligence network! And another thing, why is everyone at the academy gossiping that you and Char share an improper relationship?"

"I—"

Garma finally understood why his father was so furious!

"We don't have any improper relationship! We are simply close comrades-in-arms. Father, Char is a pillar of talent who could easily become my right hand!"

Garma tried to put in a few more good words for his close friend, but the more he defended him, the angrier Degwin became. *You say there's nothing between you, yet here you are pleading for him like this!*

As a much-younger son born late in life, Garma had naturally been heavily spoiled by Degwin. Yet precisely because of this, Degwin viewed Garma as his potential successor, making the choice of Garma's partner a matter of utmost gravity. If it had been any of his other sons, Degwin would have barked a few curses and pretended not to notice, but Garma was different!

In the end, Garma could only watch helplessly as his father retreated to rest.

"Don't take it to heart, I'll think of a way to help you!"

Seeing his younger brother looking so dejected, Dozle offered a quiet word of comfort.

Dozle was equally reluctant to part with those twenty-odd cadets. They were elites tempered by the fires of actual combat; with them as a foundation, he could quickly cultivate a crack combat force—especially now that the MS-05, a mobile suit officially designated as the Zaku, had been finalized and entered mass production. The Zeon military desperately needed elite personnel to develop its mobile suit corps.

"Father will forget about this matter after a little while. When he does, I'll have all of them reassigned back to you!"

"That would be wonderful, Brother Dozle!"

"It's only right. If I let them suffer under such a false accusation, Sena would end up crying about it, too!"

All of Garma's touched emotions vanished in an instant!