Can MS Pilots Survive?

Thatch moved quickly.

In no time at all, he entered the dormitory carrying a medical kit.

"What's been up with you lately? You look so distracted."

Thatch asked while bandaging Ino's wound.

"Homesick."

Ino replied calmly.

Hearing Ino's answer, Thatch's hands paused for a brief moment before he silently continued the bandaging.

The students in the Command Department had all heard about Ino's circumstances and background.

There were quite a few people in the military academy currently sharing his plight, the most famous of whom was Councilman Zala's son—Athrun Zala.

Faced with such classmates, those of them who were 'fortunate' had neither the qualifications nor the ability to offer any consolation.

"By the way, tomorrow morning is Instructor Natarle's tactical analysis class on the Nova Defense Battle."

Thatch changed the subject.

"Nova Defense Battle?"

Ino looked puzzled.

It wasn't the term itself, but the timing.

Today was July 21st, C.E. 70.

The Nova Defense Battle referred to the war that began on June 14th, fought between the Earth Alliance and ZAFT (the designation for the PLANT military) over the resource satellite "Nova," which was under the administration of the East Asian Union in the L4 region.

Neither side had gained a decisive advantage in that war, and small-scale skirmishes had occurred continuously for nearly a month.

During that period, most of the L4 colony clusters were damaged.

It wasn't until a few days before his predecessor was poisoned that the Earth Alliance chose to abandon "Nova," allowing ZAFT to officially take control of it.

"You've been absent for three consecutive days, and Instructor Natarle is already unhappy with you," Thatch continued.

"What could she possibly... fine, alright."

Ino was about to ask what kind of opinion she could have, but then he reconsidered; this wasn't an ordinary university on Earth.

This was an advanced military academy during wartime, and he was a reserve officer in the Command Department belonging to ZAFT.

Under these circumstances, missing class for three days straight meant she had already shown him great restraint by not coming to cause trouble herself.

"There, just keep it dry for the next two days."

Thatch finished bandaging Ino's right hand.

"With bandaging skills like these, it's a real waste that you aren't in the Medical Department."

Ino flexed his bandaged right hand, somewhat surprised by Thatch's competence.

"The Medical Department? I'm going to be a battlefield commander in the future."

Thatch replied with a smile while packing up the medical kit.

"A battlefield commander..."

Ino couldn't help but be speechless at the remark.

If this guy knew that the future battlefield would be dominated by Mobile Suits, he wondered what his mood would be.

Especially those monsters like Kira Yamato and his peers.

It didn't feel like much when he was just watching, but thinking about it carefully now, Lacus and her group were truly overpowered; with just a few Mobile Suits and a warship, they managed to tear the battlefield to shreds.

"What's with that attitude? You don't believe me?"

Thatch noticed that Ino's attitude was a bit off.

"If I said I believed you, would you believe me?"

Ino countered with a question.

"What?" Thatch was stunned.

"However, a Mobile Suit... that actually seems like an option."

Ino suddenly thought of Mobile Suits.

If he became a Mobile Suit pilot and headed to the front lines, would it be possible to survive?

His identity as a spy should have been exposed.

However, for reasons unknown, the other side had chosen assassination rather than an overt execution.

Extrapolating from this situation, if he could become a Mobile Suit pilot and get to the front lines, he might actually have a chance to escape the battlefield and survive.

It would be best to get to the Earth front; once he escaped the battlefield, he could find a place to hide under an assumed name for a year or two, and once the war ended, he would be fine.

But there was also a problem: time.

It was now July, and there were less than two months left until graduation in September.

What could he possibly achieve under these circumstances?

The front lines were perilous; one slip-up and a person was gone.

He had to constantly guard against those trying to assassinate him while ensuring he could make it to Earth.

Suddenly, a sharp glint flashed in Ino's eyes.

He didn't necessarily have to go to Earth.

Archangel!

If he remembered correctly, there was a Gundam and the Archangel on that neutral colony belonging to Orb or some other nation.

If he could reach the Archangel and reveal his identity, he could simply leave with them.

However, this raised another issue: how to prove his identity.

His personal file was classified at the highest level; the Archangel's crew would have no way to verify his credentials.

What if they just shot him on sight?

Even if he took a step back and assumed the busty captain wouldn't kill him, the Archangel was, after all, a vessel of the Atlantic Federation.

And he was affiliated with the Eurasian Federation... wait, did he actually belong to the Atlantic Federation or the Eurasian Federation?

The Eurasian Federation had raised him, but Blue Cosmos was part of the Atlantic Federation—to whom was he, the spy, actually feeding intelligence?

Thinking carefully, he realized he still didn't know who was receiving the intelligence he passed on.

"Ino, Ino!"

Just as Ino was lost in thought, Thatch's voice reached his ears.

"What... Instructor Natarle!"

Ino pulled his thoughts together and looked toward Thatch, but his gaze quickly landed on the instructor standing beside him.

Reflexively, Ino stood up and saluted: "My apologies, I was distracted."

After returning the salute, Natarle said: "Relax. I heard you were ill, so I came to check on you."

"Thank you for your concern, Instructor Natarle."

Ino replied quickly.

"What happened to your hand?"

Natarle looked at Ino's bandaged right hand.

"I accidentally cut it earlier," Ino explained.

Natarle nodded upon hearing this and continued: "Take care of yourself. In two months, you will be forced to graduate and head to the front lines. Make sure you use your time to study."

"Yes!"

Perhaps due to the body's muscle memory, Ino's response was resonant and powerful.

"You are the student I value most. You possess high insight and talent for battlefield control, and I hope you do not waste that gift."

Instructor Natarle was speaking the truth.

Of course, this wasn't hard to understand.

As a Coordinator raised and trained from childhood, Ino's objective as a spy was initially set to infiltrate the high-ranking officials within ZAFT.

That was why, at the age of three, Ino had already begun receiving training far beyond his peers alongside nearly a thousand others.

In the end, only a few of them survived to leave the base at fifteen.

"Understood!"

Ino nodded.

"Remember to attend tomorrow's tactical analysis class. You've already fallen behind quite a bit."

After saying this, Instructor Natarle patted Ino on the shoulder and turned to leave the dormitory.

He had come here simply to check on his prized pupil.

"Yes! Take care, Instructor Natarle!"

Ino saluted as he saw her off.

A while later.

Only after Instructor Natarle had left did Thatch pop up: "It seems Instructor Natarle really likes you."

"Likes me?" Ino was stunned.

"Don't be stupid. It's one thing when you're around, but when you're not, Instructor Natarle has praised you in class more than once. It looks like we'll be rivals in the future."

Thatch sounded a bit bitter.

They were all Coordinators, so why was this guy so special?

"Cut the chuunibyou act; Instructor Natarle has liked you for a long time."

Ino was speechless at Thatch's occasional bouts of adolescent delusion.

"Battlefield commander," he thought—when the time came, he'd see if the Freedom Gundam would spare him or not.

If you piloted an MS, you might survive by the mercy of Kira Yamato.

But sitting on the flagship... if that thing blew up, you wouldn't even have a place to run.