Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

August CE69, Atlantic Federation, Washington, D.C.

Murta Azrael's office is located on the top floor of the Blue Cosmos headquarters building, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of the Potomac River. But Azrael rarely looks out the window—his gaze is always fixed on the world map on the wall, marked with red pins indicating the locations of the Coordinators' settlements and PLANT colonies.

"PLANT's GINN production has exceeded three hundred units," the intelligence officer reported. "Their next-generation mobile suits are also under development. If no action is taken, the Coordinators will possess power sufficient to threaten Earth."

Azrael's fingers slowly traced the PLANT mark on the map.

"Where's Orb?"

"Orb is holding back for now. They have signed a temporary peace agreement with us and will not provoke us in the short term. But their orbital elevators remain a threat—that means they can project military power into space at any time."

"Ob..." Azrael sneered, "Uzumi's adopted son, is that the 'Red Comet'?"

"Yes. Intelligence indicates that he personally piloted a mobile suit in the battle, destroying our fleet with speed and precision far exceeding that of ordinary people."

"Isn't he a Coordinator?"

"No. According to publicly available information about Orb, the genetic testing data is incomplete, but existing evidence suggests that he is a natural person."

Azrael was silent for a moment. "A Natural person possessing abilities surpassing those of a Coordinator... that's impossible."

"But that's the truth."

"That would be even more dangerous." Azrael stood up and walked to the map. "If Naturals can become stronger than Coordinators, then all our reasons—that Coordinators are a 'threat to humanity'—would be invalid. We must prove that the Coordinators are the real enemy before they become symbols."

"What do you mean?"

"PLANT." Azrael's finger landed on a point on the map. "Attack PLANT, let the world see the 'true face' of the Coordinators. They will retaliate, and then we'll have an excuse for total war."

In September CE69, at a secret liaison meeting between the Atlantic Federation and Blue Cosmos, an operation codenamed "Hermes" was formally proposed.

On the surface, it was a military deterrence against PLANT, but in reality, it was a meticulously planned massacre—using the neutral colony "Junius" as a target, creating a sufficiently devastating explosion, blaming the PLANT radicals, and thus inciting widespread hatred of the Coordinators within the Earth Federation.

"Julius VII is PLANT's largest agricultural colony satellite, housing hundreds of thousands of civilians. If a nuclear device were detonated inside, the casualties would reach tens of thousands," the planner said calmly, as if discussing a weather forecast.

"Nuclear devices? But PLANT's colonies are all in space. Deploying nuclear weapons would require large warships—"

"No need," Azrael interrupted him. "All we need is an assault boat disguised as a PLANT ship, loaded with a tactical nuclear warhead. Detonate it inside Junius VII—the agricultural area there has a lot of flammable gas, which will amplify the explosion."

"time?"

February 14, CE70. Valentine's Day.

"Why that day?"

"Because everyone's heart is set on love that day. No one will notice the intrigue lurking in the shadows." A cold smile crept across Azrael's lips. "Besides, 'Bloody Valentine's Day'—that name itself is the perfect propaganda slogan."

October CE69, Orb.

Char stood on the observation deck of the Dawn Society, holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold. His gaze was fixed on the rail elevator cables on the horizon, but his mind was elsewhere.

"Intelligence analysis regarding VEDA and PLANT."

"Patrick Sara's approval rating continues to rise, currently reaching 78%. Siegel Klein's moderate seats have shrunk further. It is worth noting that a secret fleet of the Atlantic Federation has been frequently moving around recently, with its purpose unknown."

"What about blue cosmos?"

"Murta Azrael's personal popularity has reached an all-time high. His poll support in the Atlantic Federation presidential election is 34 percent, second only to the incumbent president. In addition, the Blue Cosmos military organization recently received a batch of special supplies—including tactical nuclear warheads."

Xia's hand paused slightly.

"Nuclear warheads? What are they planning to do?"

"It cannot be determined. However, considering PLANT's actions, there is a high risk of conflict."

Char put down his coffee cup, walked to the terminal in his office, and opened VEDA's holographic star map. The location of PLANT, the location of the Atlantic Federation Fleet, and the vague "secret mobilization" trajectory—three clues intertwined in his mind.

"They really do want to destroy Junius VII," he said in a low voice.

On the star map, PLANT's Junius VII colony is marked in light green—that's a neutral zone, a non-military target. But it is precisely this "non-military" status that makes it the ideal victim.

"VEDA, strengthen monitoring of the Atlantic Federation's nuclear arsenal. Notify me immediately of any unusual movements."

"Instruction recorded."

In December of CE69, Char Aznable contacted Siegel Klein again via encrypted communication.

"Congressman Siegel, I have a bad feeling," Char said. The middle-aged man on the screen looked older than when they last met. "The Atlantic Federation may be planning a major attack on PLANT."

Do you have any evidence?

"No. Only fragments of intelligence—the movement of nuclear warheads, the assembly of a secret fleet, and the unusual silence of the Blue Cosmos leadership."

Higel remained silent for a long time.

"I will alert PLANT's security department. But they won't believe a warning from a 'neutral country,' especially since there's no evidence to support it."

"Then strengthen the defenses of Junius VII. At the very least—don't let any unidentified ships get close."

"I will do my best."

After the call ended, Xia leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

He knew he couldn't stop what was about to happen, not because he lacked clear intelligence, but because the hatred had reached a breaking point. A single spark—from anywhere—would ignite the entire powder keg.

"VEDA," he said softly, "if we can't stop it, then we should be prepared for the consequences."

"What will the consequences be?"

"War." Xia opened his eyes, his deep red pupils reflecting the star map on the screen. "A war that will sweep across the entire human world."

Outside the window, moonlight spills onto the sea.

December 31, CE69, New Year's Eve. Char stood on the observation deck, watching fireworks bloom in the night sky. He knew this was the last fireworks display of peace.

CE69 has ended.

A blood-stained Valentine's Day, counting down in the darkness.