Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

January 5, CE71, study at Asgard's residence.

After the full-scale outbreak of war, the first group of refugees arrived in Orb at the end of December CE70. PLANT's African landing operation displaced hundreds of thousands of civilians, and the Earth Alliance's massive conscription made life unbearable for many more. People, with their families, crossed the war-torn borders, searching for a corner untouched by the flames of war. Orb—the only neutral nation—became their last hope.

The refugee influx reached several thousand in just one week, and the numbers were still rising rapidly. Uzmi decided to convene a high-level meeting, not at the Ministry of Defense, but in the study of Askha's residence. This choice itself was a signal—a discussion about human lives.

In the study, Uzumi sat behind his desk, a cup of tea that had gone cold in his hand. Char sat to his right, a map of refugee distribution spread out in front of him.

Mina sat next to Char, her red eyes fixed on the densely marked map. Erica sat opposite Mina, holding a data terminal and rapidly calculating the shortage of food and medicine. Cagalli sat in the far corner, her hands on her knees, her back ramrod straight.

Cagalli was wearing the cadet uniform of the Orb Military Academy, her golden hair tied in a ponytail, her amber eyes filled with both nervousness and anticipation. Char noticed her fingers trembling slightly on her knees, but she didn't say anything—some nervousness she needed to overcome on her own.

Uzumi glanced at the people present and put down his teacup. "The war has begun. Orb cannot get involved, but it cannot stand idly by either. Today's topic is: how to deal with the influx of refugees."

Char stood up and walked to the map on the wall. The refugee distribution map showed that most refugees were concentrated on the east coast of Aubu Island, which was closest to the rail elevator ground station and had convenient transportation.

"Currently, there are approximately 3,200 registered refugees, of which about 40% are resettled individuals and about 60% are natural persons. It is expected that this number may exceed 20,000 within the next three months. Our reception capacity is limited, and the conditions in the refugee camps are nearing saturation."

Mina flipped through the documents in her hand. "Neighboring countries are closing their borders. After the Oceania Union sided with PLANT, it banned natural refugees from entering. The Equatorial Union is nominally neutral, but in reality, it is helping the Earth Union and is not so friendly to Coordinator refugees. Orb is the only country that is still accepting refugees from both sides."

Erica looked up and adjusted her glasses. "Our food reserves are enough for three months, our medicine reserves for two months, and our tents and blankets are enough for five thousand people. If the number of refugees exceeds ten thousand, our resources will run out."

Uzumi paused for a moment, then turned to Char. "Your suggestion?"

Char returned to his seat and placed the tablet on the table. "My suggestion: refuse entry to Orb territory to both the Earth Alliance and ZAFT's armed forces. At the same time, secretly accept refugees from the Alliance and PLANT—regardless of race or faction."

Mina frowned. "This will be seen as favoring the other side by both sides. The Atlantic Federation will say that our acceptance of Coordinator refugees is 'supporting the enemy,' while PLANT will say that our acceptance of Natural refugees is 'cooperating with the Alliance.'"

"Let them believe it," Char's voice was calm, "that what we need is the safety of refugees, not mutual goodwill. If a Coordinator child won't be stoned to death in Orb, if a Natural mother won't be arrested for 'marrying a Coordinator,' then that's the meaning of Orb's existence."

Erica felt a surge of warmth in her heart. Mina lowered her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. Uzumi nodded.

"Specific measures?" Uzmi asked.

Char swiped a few times on the tablet, projecting a plan. "First, designate three areas in the western mountains of Orb Island to establish semi-permanent refugee camps. These areas are far from cities and military installations, making them less likely to be targets. Second, cooperate with the International Red Cross, having them manage the camps' daily operations, while Orb only provides supplies and security. This way, even if someone wants to attack the camps, they'll have to consider the Red Cross's international influence. Third, establish a refugee status verification mechanism—not based on race or political affiliation, but on criminal records. Those with violent crime convictions will be refused entry; the rest can remain as long as they pass a health check."

Mina added, "The Sahak family can donate a batch of tents and medical equipment. In addition, I know several people from international charities, and I can invite them to visit Obu."

"Regarding funding, some of the budget from Dawn Society's R&D department can be diverted." Erica's fingers flew across the terminal. "Let me calculate—the construction of the White Base is nearing completion, and some material procurement payments can be deferred. We can squeeze out about 20 million."

Uzmi looked at them; everyone's expression was serious. They weren't discussing politics, but how to save lives. "Good. The plan is approved. Refugee resettlement work officially begins."

Cagalli, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, raised her hand. The hand wasn't raised high, but it was very firm.

"What can I do? I want to help."

Everyone was watching her. A hint of pride flashed in Uzumi's eyes; Char's lips curled into a slight smile; Mina's red eyes held curiosity; Erica took off her glasses, wiped them, and put them back on.

Char looked at her, the light in his amber eyes burning just as it had when SEED awakened a few days ago—but now more composed. "You'll be in charge of the on-site coordination of refugee resettlement. Coordinate the provision of supplies, medical care, education, registration, and distribution in the refugee camps."

Cagalli's eyes widened, but she didn't back down. "Can I do this?"

Char stood up, walked to his sister, and knelt down to look her in the eye. "You can do it. Not because you're my sister, not because you're a daughter of the Athha family, but because you have the ability. You've proven yourself."

Cagalli bit her lip and nodded vigorously.

The meeting continued. Char returned to his seat, and Uzumi turned to Cagalli, his gaze gentle yet serious. "Cagali, refugee work is tough. There are shortages of supplies, disease is spreading, and people are emotionally unstable. You're not facing enemies in a simulator, but real, living, breathing people who are suffering. Are you ready?"

Cagalli took a deep breath, her hands clenching and unclenching on her knees. "I'm not afraid of hardship. What I'm afraid of is... not being able to help everyone."

The study was quiet for a moment.

Char spoke, his voice not loud but every word clear: "No one can help everyone. But helping one person could potentially save that person's world."

Cagalli looked into her brother's eyes; those deep red eyes held no comfort, only a calm statement. He believed this, because that's how he lived. Junius VII—he couldn't save everyone, but he saved those he could. That was enough.

"I understand." Cagalli's eyes hardened.

After the meeting ended, everyone else left the study. Cagalli remained seated, staring intently at her notebook.

Uzumi walked over and gently patted her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm very nervous. I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid of making the wrong decision."

"But when you speak, no one feels you're superfluous. Your voice is soft, but clear. Keep going, and your voice will grow louder and louder."

Cagalli looked up, her amber eyes reflecting her father's graying hair and the wrinkles around his eyes. "Dad, thank you for letting me participate."

Uzumi smiled and said, "It wasn't me who asked you to come. It was your brother. He said, 'Kagari should come. She may be young, but she thinks of things we can't.' He saw potential in you that I hadn't seen before."

Cagalli lowered her head, her fingers gently tracing the cover of the notebook. "My brother is always like this. He makes me feel like I can do so many things, so many things I never thought I could."

"Because he had the same experience. He was only sixteen when your grandfather first had him attend a high-level meeting. He wasn't born a 'red comet'; he was also nervous, scared, and doubted himself."

Cagalli looked up: "And then?"

"Later, he learned to stand tall in tension, to open his eyes in fear, and to find direction in doubt. You can too."

In the hallway outside the study, Xia and Mina walked side by side. Mina's red eyes held an indescribable emotion, and the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned, as if she were smiling or deep in thought.

"She's grown up."

Char didn't answer, only nodded slightly. Entering the Dawn Division office, Char opened VEDA's terminal and pulled up real-time data on the refugee resettlement work. Three thousand two hundred and fifteen people had already registered, including about eight hundred children. Most of the children came from the Earth United Control Zone; their parents had died or gone missing in the war, and they had crossed the border alone to Orb.

"VEDA, send a message to Cagalli. The message should read: 'The education of refugee children is in your hands. These children cannot lose their future because of the war.'"

A few seconds later, Cagalli replied: "Got it. I'll figure something out. Thank you for trusting me, brother."

Char finished reading the message and closed the terminal. Outside the window, the lights of Orb City flickered in the night.

"She's really grown up," he said softly.

In January CE71, the first wave of refugees from the war flooded into Orb. Three thousand two hundred and fifteen people, eight hundred of them children. Cagalli Yura Ashar was attending her first high-level meeting, taking on real responsibility for the first time. In the days to come, she would see the true face of war in the refugee camp—not numbers, not arrows on a map, but living, breathing people. This was an especially heavy burden for a fifteen-year-old girl.