On board the ship, almost an hour had passed since the discovery and rescue of the survivors from the reentry pod. The captain looked at the small white house being towed by Durban. He had heard the report about the earlier encounters of the rescue team and the survivors, and asked himself, "Who sane enough to shoot down a space shuttle?" The captain found it puzzling that someone would shoot down a civilian shuttle, considering that the Outer Space Treaty prohibits the deployment of weaponized satellites or space aircraft, let alone fire an ASAT on an obvious civilian shuttle. It was an open violation of the Outer Space Treaty.
He contemplated as he watched one of his men climb up the ship after inspecting the reentry pod. "Captain," the sailor said with a complicated expression, "their answers from earlier questions appear to be identical to the markings of this reentry pod or their so-called escape pod. However, those are non-existent on our inventory. We don't even know what kind of plant or plantation of colonies they're talking about, and no ZAFT in the archives either. Their words, it's difficult to believe their story, but they don't appear to be lying."
"I see... They looked European to me," said the captain in skepticism. "If they came from colonies, what's their nationality? The location of their colonies?"
"As I said before," replied the sailor, gazing at the reentry pod, "it was from plants or something. We don't know if it's an agricultural type of colony in the Lagrange point of the moon. However, they don't have any nationality. If their words are true, there's should no large-scale colonial habitation on the Lagrange. Building large-scale space colonies is still in the theoretical stage of research, and therefore, only small-scale colonies exist for long-term research and experimental purposes. If they indeed came from independent private space colonies, it's likely that there are fewer than 2 or 3 thousand people living on those colonies, and probably due to some personal conflict, that's why they got attacked underway and shotdown."
The captain pondered this information for a moment, then turned to his crew member and asked, "What do you think we should do with them?"
"I'm not sure," the sailor replied, "but we should keep them on board until we can get more information. It's possible that they could be spies or even terrorists."
The captain nodded, deep in thought. "Alright," he said finally, "keep a close eye on them and report anything suspicious to me immediately."
"Yes, captain!" The sailor saluted as he left Shambo in the helipad, leaving the captain still looking at the reentry pod.
He arrived at the hanger and saw his crew gathered around the survivors, offering them food and water. He approached them and cleared his throat to get their attention.
"Good evening, I am the captain of this ship, Captain Shambo Nande. Can you please tell me your names and where you are from?"
The survivors looked at each other before one of them spoke up. "My name is Evian, we're from December 3, PLANT colonies."
Shambo looks a bit surprised as none of the seniority here answered, rather this kid who appears to be around 15 years of age, he said. "Hmm, good my dear, how are the other seniority here?" However, none answered. Instead, they're looking at Evian, confusing Shambo and the rest of the sailors around. Before someone finally answered, a man in his mid-20s said, "Lady Evian is the higher person in this company, sir." He clarified
"Huh? I don't mean to be rude," Shambo said, looking skeptically at the man before turning to Evian. "My dear, why exactly are you higher than the rest, and why don't they answer without your permission?"
Evian responded, "I am, or rather we are - my little sister Lily and I - the daughters of the PLANTs commerce director and the head of PLANT city of December 3. Thus, I am the only person qualified to speak with higher-ranking officials from the African Union." But as Shambo's brows raised, due to this actions — a sudden realization struck her, and Evian began to feel a sense of fear. They might be in danger after all; these sailors looked friendly, but that didn't mean they weren't hostile.
"PLANTs," said Shambo in a serious tone. Evian felt a growing sense of fear before Shambo finally continued. "My dear, please answer my question with an actual answer so I can relay it to your embassy about your current situation. Let's end all these matters so we can finally return to our homeport. We've been on this sea for the last month, and we want to touch some grass, so we're doubling the process to finally get off the ship and take some rest. And lastly, this is not the African Union; we came from the Pan-African Federation. Don't get it wrong, my dear."
Shambo's words opened the eyes of Evian and the rest on her side. She couldn't believe it. "Pan-African Federation?" she muttered. "Did the African Union declare independence from the Eurasian Federation?"
"I don't know what this African Union is," Shambo responded. "But if you're referring to the economic union of multiple African states, then we're a member. However, we're not independent and are under this unknown Eurasian Federation that I haven't heard of my entire life. So my answer is no, my country has been independent since 1981. Up until now, in 2047, my country is an independent country with no one controlling or owning us. If anyone attempted to step on us, we wouldn't let it happen. As my country's armed forces motto says, 'Thou shalt not give an inch.'" Shambo's words cleared up all the misunderstandings immediately.
"That's a country that doesn't exist here, 2047? Are you perhaps using the old Anno Domini timeline?" Evian carefully asked, causing Shambo and the sailors to look at her in confusion.
"Yes, it's Anno Domini," replied Shambo, which resulted in murmurs from Evian's side.
"Do you know what the Earth Alliance is? Coordinators? And the Cosmic Era?" she asked carefully, looking at the bewildered and curious expressions of people from the so-called Pan-African Federation.
"No, I haven't heard of any of them. Except for coordinators, of course, the people who do coordination in a project," replied Shambo plainly, adding the information as if it were a joke to Evian's side.
However, Evian looked at it seriously, as if thinking of something, and responded, "The Earth Alliance is the successor of the United Nations. As for coordinators, you're not entirely wrong, but there's another meaning for it, in Cosmic Era, they were genetically modified humans frowned upon by naturals. We are coordinators ourselves and we've been attacked by an Earth Alliance fleet in orbit while in transit to Orb Union. The Cosmic Era was the new calendar by the end of Anno Domini, and it's been 70 years since Anno Domini was replaced by Cosmic Era." she answered all of them, much to her confusion. She wondered how and why these people didn't know about it. Why did they have a different country name and why were they lacking in knowledge? Could this be a trap set by naturals for coordinators like themselves?
"I see," said Shambo, turning his gaze towards the coordinators. Everyone stiffened, including the sailors gaze surrounding them, who appears curious about them. Furthermore, shambo and the sailors didn't seem to have any fear, anger, or hostility towards the coordinators, which made them uncomfortable. The existence of coordinators was frowned upon since their discovery due to their differences in athletic and intellectual abilities, as well as the way they were created. This made the neutral demeanor of the people from the Pan-African Federation — all the more unnerving to the coordinators, who couldn't believe it and wondered if it was all just a façade masking their true intentions.
And thus, a tense silence ensued as both sides seemed to be carefully considering their next words. The sailors and Shambo were trying to understand the coordinator's situation and the reasons behind the Earth Alliance's hostility towards them, while the coordinators were trying to assess whether they could trust these outsiders with their secrets. The air was thick with unease and uncertainty, as the two groups tried to find common ground despite their differences.
"It doesn't seem like you guys are aliens to me," said the captain, breaking the silence. "There may be some external and internal differences, but as far as I can see, you are definitely human. So why do the so-called naturals resort to full blown terrorism, and why does the Earth Alliance allow this extreme prejudice to the point of shooting down a shuttle just because you are coordinators? What's the difference between you and natural humans? What for? Making a point? That's sounds irresponsibly childish to me."
The coordinators were taken aback by Shambo's words. They had grown accustomed to being treated with prejudiced and had to relocate to space or else feared their safety living in earth, yet here was someone from a completely different part of the world who saw them as human beings like everyone else.
While relieved that everyone here did not see them as something entirely foreign or inhuman. However, they knew that the differences between coordinators and natural humans were not just external or superficial, but ran much deeper. They had been genetically engineered to possess superior physical and mental abilities, which made them the subject of envy and fear among the naturals.
Moreover, the Earth Alliance's actions towards them had been nothing short of unjust and cruel. Thus, they remained silent, unsure of what to say or how to react to Shambo's words, but hoping that someday things would change for the better.
Everyone was silent for a moment, taking in Shambo's words. They're deep in thought when suddenly, a loudspeaker announcement boomed through the ship,
"Attention all personnel, this is not a drill. Two bogies inbound. Man your battle stations. Repeat, man your battle stations."
The sudden announcement caught Shambo off guard. He quickly looked around the hanger to see if anyone else was reacting, but some of the sailors and coordinators appeared to be frozen in shock.
"Move, move, move!" Shambo yelled, snapping everyone out of their trance. "Get to your stations, now!"
The sailors scrambled to follow Shambo's orders, running towards the nearest exits and making their way to their designated battle stations.
With a sense of urgency, he quickly made his way to the nearest intercom. "Bridge, this is Shambo, what's going on?" he asked urgently.
The response was quick and to the point: "Two unidentified aircraft have entered our airspace and have not responded to hails. Captain, we've elevated to combat readiness, and we already have all hands on deck. They hailed from the Earth Alliance and are requesting the handover of the survivors of the reentry pod. We haven't classified them as bandits as we don't know if they're jesting, but they're illuminating us with radar lock, Captain!"
"Earth Alliance?" Shambo was taken aback for a second. He looked at the coordinators who stood frozen for a moment longer, unsure of what to do, and likely they were surprised by the loudspeaker announcement. "Hold the fort. I'll go there in a minute. If they attack, follow the ROE standard protocols," he instructed.
"Aye, Captain." The response on the other line. Then, Shambo gazed at the coordinators. "It appears that the so-called Earth Alliance is warmly sending us some very polite greetings with radar illumination on the ship," he said. He didn't openly say that they were basically in gunpoint, but there were kids, so he tried his best not to be open about this topic.
However, the seniority in the coordinator's group, including Evian, began to pale, fully understanding what Shambo was saying. However, he is not the kind of person who won't openly say it if his men's lives are on the line. Whether this Earth Alliance, PLANTs, Coordinators, and Naturals subjects that Evian said were true, which he was still skeptical about, the fact that they were being targeted by military-grade radar was more than enough to say it was provocative and dangerous. "They wanted you guys to be handed over to them." Then he put the nail on it, making everyone shudder in fear. Seeing them, Shambo made an amused sound, "heh," grinning at their reactions that made them put their guards up, "those faces plastered in fear." He paused, and fear began to grow increasingly on the side of coordinators. "That makes you human. Yeah, you don't appear no different from us."
He said, completely flabbergasting the coordinators and making them confused at the same time. Shambo, not caring about their current state of confusion, said bluntly. "I need Lady Evian and one of the seniority here to the bridge. I want more details about this Earth Alliance and to deal with them," he said. "Any volunteers?"
However, the more the coordinators tried to comprehend the logic of the Pan-African Federation, the more they were stupefied and speechless. Evian was one of the first to snap out of her thoughts and asked, "You won't hand us over?" She asked in a skeptical voice.
"Obviously, you're under our protection, and letting you be handed over without negotiations or agreement on your safety is a surefire way to get my ass torched by social media folks, or worse, be dishonorably discharged from service, which I don't want to happen to me," he said, as if not caring about the consequences of his actions.
"Those are Earth Alliance forces! They control more than half of the Earth! You stand no chance! Do you know the consequences of defying them!?" She said in a rough tone, looking at Shambo and the sailors who left to tend to them, wondering what reactions they will make.
"The Earth Alliance has a significant population still on Earth?" Shambo asked out of nowhere, seeming unconcerned. Making Evian frowned at his lackluster reaction.
"Almost all of their population is still on Earth, with only a few million living in their space colonies," Evian replied. "Their colonies are mostly outdated O'Neil types, each with a capacity of half a million. There are probably no more than 20 such colonies in orbit around the planet, as well as a small number of lunar cities that serve as construction yards and resource depots."
Shambo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting. So even the largest American and Chinese colonies can only hold 20,000 people, but this Earth Alliance has colonies that can hold half a million?"
Evian looked at Shambo with confusion as he kept using outdated terms of countries that no longer existed. "Yes?" she asked, unsure of what he was trying to convey.
Shambo grinned. "Well, then. If they dare to interfere with us, we can always use their population on Earth as leverage — through various means. Although I'm still skeptical about your claims, but I promise you this: if they try to mess with us, they'll regret it." His unwavering confidence made the coordinators wonder if the Pan-African Federation had any limits on confidence or if he was simply an oddball or a fool. They couldn't decide.
"Now, I need a volunteer from seniority here. I can't bring a minor without a guardian. The rest of you could stay in the guest rooms," he said to them. Six people immediately raised their hands awkwardly, causing them to look at each other. "That's unexpected," Shambo said at their reactions.
"I'll only take two at the best. Decide now. We have some floors to scale up and rooms to pass by before reaching the bridge. We also have two hotshots coming in fast." They decided among themselves, finally ending the discussion.
However, Evian asked for permission. "I'd like to bring my little sister," she said.
"No," Shambo replied. Nevertheless, Evian looked at him with an unwavering gaze, while Lily hugged Evian's legs and clutched at her clothes tightly. This made him give up. "Whatever. Even where your sister is located, considering the danger, all sections of the ship are dangerous and could be subjected to attack at any time." He sighed and signaled his sailors to bring the remaining coordinators to their guest room.
"Now, your names?" he asked the two remaining adults in the scene.
"I am Seren Alhambra, a computer analyst," said a woman in her late 30s with fiery crimson hair.
"Jerry Bohemia, a ZAFT support staff," said a person in their late teens, likely 19 or 20, with black hair and brown eyes and an East Asian-looking face.
"Let's go," said Shambo who looks curious about their jobs but set aside them as he led them to the bridge.
