Chapter 123: Oolong Tea?
Eli was awakened by a series of knocks on the door.
"Mm… who is it?"
It was January of the year 0080, midsummer on the South American continent.
Dressed in light clothing, Eli woke up in his own room aboard the White Chaser, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door.
"Apologies for the disturbance, Major. I am Lieutenant Istha Pakrudia, a technical officer responsible for recording the combat data of the modular ship structure on this vessel."
The woman standing before him wore the standard Federation military uniform, her green eyes gazing slightly downward at him.
Eli closed the door, got dressed, and then took a deep breath before reopening it.
No mistake—this woman was at least half a head taller than him.
And her figure was too pronounced, to the point that her uniform strained against it slightly. The Federation's standard-issue military attire was already designed to be form-fitting, but the snug pants particularly accentuated the graceful curves of her long legs.
Eli, however, remained unfazed by the sight—he even felt a faint phantom pain in his waist.
"Don't do anything reckless~"
That night, when Sayla was on top of him, she had whispered those words gently into his ear.
She hadn't specified what she meant, but Eli understood perfectly well.
"I understand. May I ask why you've come at this hour?"
Eli raised his wrist and checked the time on his watch.
19:42.
Don't get the wrong idea—Eli hadn't slept through an entire day. He had just arrived on Earth from space and was still adjusting to the planet's distinct day-night cycle.
In space, rest periods were scheduled according to duty shifts.
"It's like this—the rest of the crew has already gathered, but... they seem to be a little too excited?"
Eli frowned.
What kind of vague report was this?
At that moment, he suddenly understood the kind of pressure Bright was under.
If his subordinates were always speaking in such cryptic terms, it would indeed be difficult for a commanding officer to grasp the full picture—let alone deal with Newtypes, who had a habit of leaving things unsaid.
"Could you be more specific?"
As a first-time member of the command staff, Eli decided to exercise patience with his subordinates.
It was his first official appointment, after all.
"Um… It's hard to describe. Major, you should just see for yourself. Everyone's at the victory banquet hosted in Jaburo—you should have received an invitation as well."
At this, Eli recalled that someone had indeed invited him when he disembarked from the aircraft the other day.
He sighed, remembering the previous welcome banquet that Colonel Ethan—no, the late Brigadier General Ethan—had hosted for White Base.
The tedious social formalities and the routine rounds of drinking had been utterly uninspiring.
Still, since his subordinates were all there, it seemed necessary for him to make an appearance.
"I understand. Lead the way, Lieutenant."
Eli nodded at the tall woman, signaling her to guide him.
On the way, Eli took the opportunity to ask the technical officer about the White Chaser's modular ship structure.
In simple terms, frontline reports from multiple Pegasus-class warships had identified their large target profile as a major weakness, with frequent reports of severe damage to the port side.
To address this, and to tackle similar structural issues in future warships, Jaburo had initiated the "Modular Plan."
Modularization had already been implemented in the Pegasus-class, but the White Chaser had taken it a step further—certain sections of the ship could be entirely jettisoned if necessary. All critical components were integrated into the central hull.
In extreme situations, the central hull could even continue combat operations independently for a limited time.
The Modular Plan also extended to Mobile Suit modifications. The White Chaser's customized GM Kai units served as an experimental platform for this initiative.
If Eli had to describe it, it was reminiscent of the AGE system, where arm and leg units could be swapped out mid-battle to adapt to different combat environments—except here, the modifications still required maintenance crews to handle.
As Istha explained, Eli finally arrived at the banquet hall in Jaburo.
When he placed his hand on the door, he noticed Istha hesitating multiple times.
This caught his attention.
"Something wrong?"
"Well… everyone might have had a bit too much to drink."
"Drinking? That's fairly normal, considering the war is over."
Eli shrugged and pushed open the door.
—
"EIO! Turn that damn music off!"
Eli rubbed his temples as he stepped into the hangar, shouting at a blond, all-American pretty boy.
The loud, chaotic free jazz music finally stopped, easing the pounding in Eli's head.
Why did he have this nagging feeling like he had forgotten something?
Eli glanced at the new personnel assigned under his command and was pleased to find that he could still match their names to their faces.
Then, he scanned the room, taking in the sight of his seven MS pilots.
However, their expressions were not those of subordinates looking at their commanding officer.
Sundas and Arcadia were one thing, but the other five had amused looks in their eyes.
Eli rubbed his temples again.
"Drink this."
He looked at the water bottle that Arcadia handed him, surprised at his unexpected thoughtfulness.
Since when did this guy care enough to notice his throat was dry?
Eli grabbed the bottle and tilted his head back, downing its contents.
"Alright, thanks."
He spoke, deciding to assign Arcadia a GM Striker in recognition of his combat performance.
After all, the guy was skilled in high-speed assault tactics.
"No need to thank me—dry throat is normal after a hangover."
"...Hangover?"
Eli blinked in confusion.
Then, Arcadia fished a photograph out of his pocket.
The image depicted Eli, peacefully passed out on a dining table, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs.
"Uwah!"
Eli let out a strangled cry, dropping to one knee in shock.
The memories came flooding back—all of them!
Everything had started when he stepped into the party, found the atmosphere far livelier than expected, and casually accepted the Oolong tea Arcadia handed him.
After that, there had been games of strip rock-paper-scissors, drunken cannon stance competitions—
In front of these guys, the majestic image he had hoped to maintain as their commanding officer had been utterly and completely shattered.
No wonder they were looking at him like that…
"Arcadia."
"I'm here~"
Arcadia playfully waved the photo in his hand.
"You're getting a goddamn early model GM!"
Amidst the ensuing scuffle and chaos, a familiar-looking reporter stood nearby, snapping a photo—one that would go down in history as the first recorded image of the squadron that would one day become the Federation's most feared unit.