67:- High Born

In the heart of the largest Gjallarhorn battleship, Fleet Commander Rustal Ellion presided over the battle, his presence commanding respect from the crew members working diligently on their computers. Elevated above the others, he observed the chaos unfolding in space with a calculating gaze. Rustal, a man in his forties or fifties, exuded an aura of authority, his dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes giving him a regal air. His well-groomed French beard and dark eyebrows contrasted sharply with his hair, emphasizing his stern demeanor.

Beside him stood Julieta Juris, a woman in her twenties, her blonde hair cascading gracefully around her face, and her sea green eyes sharp and observant. As Rustal's assistant.

Rustal's voice cut through the tension in the room, commanding attention from everyone present.

Rustal Ellion, authoritatively: "So, these are the mobile suits of the infamous group, Tekkadan."

Julieta stepped forward, reporting the latest information.

Julieta Juris: "According to reports from Earth, these are not all of them."

Rustal nodded, his mind already strategizing the next moves.

Rustal Ellion, determined: "Identify the frames of these mobile suits. The vulgar colors is a Graze, but I'm unfamiliar with the others. Find out what we're dealing with."

A crew member seated at the computer swiftly acknowledged the order.

Crew Member: "Yes, Commander. I'll gather the data and identify their mobile suit models."

The crew member worked swiftly, analyzing the Ahab waves of the Tekkadan machines to identify their mobile suit models. After thorough examination, the crew member reported his findings to Commander Rustal Ellion.

Crew Member: "Sir, about the vulgar-colored mobile suit, you are correct; it is a Graze. The black one is also a Graze. However, the white one is a unique amalgamation of multiple frames—Rodi, Teiwaz, and Graze Advanced, to be specific."

Rustal's eyes widened in surprise, impressed by the level of competence displayed by this small group of orphan children, now transformed into formidable warriors.

Rustal Ellion, intrigued: "Interesting."

As the battle in space unfolded, Julieta's sharp observation did not go unnoticed by Rustal Ellion. He considered her words, contemplating the origins of Tekkadan's formidable mobile suits.

Julieta: "It looks like Tekkadan has a skilled craftsman on their side, or perhaps they acquired these suits from someone."

Rustal: "Maybe."

Their conversation was laced with intrigue, the mystery behind Tekkadan's technology deepening. With anticipation in the air, they turned their attention back to the expansive void of space, where the mobile suits of Tekkadan and Gjallarhorn were rapidly approaching each other, poised for battle.

Rustal's eyes, sharp and analytical, scanned the battlefield. He observed the oncoming Tekkadan suits, his mind calculating every move and strategy. His voice, calm and composed, resonated with confidence.

Julieta: "Now, they are about to fight. Let's see if they are as strong as the rumors tell us they are."

The tension in the command room was palpable as they awaited the clash of these two formidable forces. Rustal's gaze remained fixed on the approaching mobile suits, his keen eyes analyzing their formations and movements.

Rustal: "Let's see."

With those words, the battle commenced, marking the beginning of a fierce confrontation between Tekkadan and Gjallarhorn.

.

In the vastness of space, the three mobile suits of the Curiosity—Ichiro's black Ogre, Bladwin's White Yuri, and Shino's Ryosei—charged toward the approaching Gjallarhorn mobile suits. The tension was palpable as they prepared for the intense battle that lay ahead, knowing they were the last line of defense for their ship.

Shino, incredulous: "Oye, Ichiro, they're a lot!"

Ichiro, smirking: "Tasty!"

Shino, baffled: "What the hell?"

With adrenaline pumping through their veins, Ichiro's Ogre and Bladwin's White Yuri thrust forward, their powerful thrusters propelling them toward the enemy. Shino's Ryosei followed suit, their mobile suits moving in unison, a synchronized dance of combat in the vast cosmic expanse.

The clash began, a flurry of laser fire and close combat maneuvers filling the space around them. The pilots inside the mobile suits fought with skill and determination, their movements calculated and precise. Each hit, each dodge, and each counter-attack was a testament to their training and expertise.

In the cold void of space, Ichiro unleashed his relentless fury upon the Gjallarhorn mobile suits. His black Ogre moved with deadly precision, slicing through the enemy suits as if they were nothing more than helpless prey. The space around him was painted with the fiery remnants of the Gjallarhorn machines, a testament to Ichiro's ruthless efficiency on the battlefield.

Beside him, Bladwin's White Yuri and Shino's Ryosei formed a tactical alliance, covering each other's backs in the chaos of battle. Bladwin's precise shots and Shino's agile maneuvers complemented each other perfectly, creating a deadly synergy that kept the enemy at bay.

Ichiro's reputation for brutality was well-founded. His Ogre was a weapon of mass destruction, and he wielded it with unmatched skill. The hidden needle in his arms became a deadly tool, piercing through the enemy cockpits with horrifying accuracy. Each strike was a calculated move, ending the lives of the Gjallarhorn pilots in an instant.

Ogre's claw hands, equipped with advanced technology, were a testament to Ichiro's mastery of his machine. He used them like extensions of his own body, grabbing, crushing, and tearing apart the enemy suits with ruthless efficiency. In the vast expanse of space, Ichiro's Ogre danced like a shadow, a relentless force of destruction that struck fear into the hearts of his enemies.

The battlefield became a canvas of chaos, but amidst the destruction, the Curiosity's pilots fought with a determination that bordered on desperation.

Bladwin and Shino found themselves working in perfect synchrony, their mobile suits dancing through space as they fended off the Gjallarhorn onslaught. Their teamwork was seamless, a testament to the bond forged through countless battles.

Shino, through comms: "Ichiro is back to being ruthless. I can't believe he turns into such a different person on the battlefield."

Bladwin, his White Yuri slicing through an enemy mobile suit that threatened Shino, replied thoughtfully.

Bladwin: "Shino, focus. That's something I've pondered too. I can't exactly understand his psyche. Sometimes he's kind, sometimes he's cold, and sometimes... something else, almost like a monster."

Shino, recalling a conversation with a girl who had spoken about her multiple personalities, mused aloud.

Shino: "Maybe he has multiple personalities."

Bladwin, after a moment of consideration, nodded in agreement, acknowledging the complexity of Ichiro's character.

Bladwin: "Maybe."

Ichiro's behavior grew increasingly ruthless and primal. His eyes glinted with determination, his mind focused on a singular purpose. The battlefield became his domain, and he muttered to himself with a chilling confidence.

Ichiro, murmuring: "Let's eat the big fish, shall we?"

With those words, Ichiro propelled his Ogre forward, the massive mobile suit hurtling towards one of the Gjallarhorn battleships, larger than their Curiosity and even surpassing the size of the Isaribi. His approach was relentless, his movements calculated, and his strikes precise.

The ship's defense systems sprang to life, unleashing a barrage of gunfire in an attempt to ward off the incoming threat. But Ichiro, like a god of war, danced through the onslaught. With a masterful finesse, he dodged every bullet, his movements fluid and unpredictable. He used enemy mobile suits as shields, manipulating their metallic bodies to absorb the bullets meant for him.

The battlefield around him became a whirlwind of chaos and destruction. Mobile suits and debris scattered in his wake as Ichiro closed the gap between himself and the battleship. His determination was unmatched, his predatory instincts guiding him with lethal precision.

As the ship's crew desperately attempted to fend off this relentless assault, Ichiro's Ogre loomed over them, a menacing figure in the midst of battle. The clash of metal and the roar of gunfire echoed through space as Ichiro, the relentless beast, hunted his prey with unwavering determination. The outcome of this encounter would shape the course of the battle and leave a lasting mark on the annals of their interstellar conflict.

With a furious roar, Ichiro's Ogre thrust forward, its colossal katanna sword slicing through the void of space like a vengeful deity. The sword struck the bridge of the Gjallarhorn battleship, the very heart of their command and control. The impact was devastating, shattering the bridge into a storm of debris and twisted metal.

In that moment, the prideful arrogance of the Gjallarhorn crew turned to sheer terror. The illusion of their invincibility shattered, replaced by the harsh reality of their vulnerability. The once-confident bridge, which they had upheld as a symbol of their assured victory, was now a smoldering ruin.

The screams of the Gjallarhorn crew filled the void of space, their cries of desperation echoing through the metal hulls of their ships. Purple smoke billowed from the point of contact, a grim testament to the destruction Ichiro had wrought. The ship, now bereft of command, drifted aimlessly, a silent testament to the wrath of Ichiro.

Ichiro withdrew his sword from the ruined ship, the weapon stained with the remnants of his victory. With an elegant motion, he flew upward, his thrusters blazing with fierce intensity. His figure, bathed in the glow of flames, appeared almost ethereal, like an avenging angel descending upon the battlefield.

The flames of his thrusters trailed behind him, forming the semblance of wings, casting an imposing and fearsome silhouette against the backdrop of the cosmos. In that moment, Ichiro stood not just as a pilot but as a Diety, a harbinger of retribution that struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. The battlefield trembled in his wake, the legend of his wrath etched into the annals of the cosmic battleground.

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