A Lighthearted Sortie

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the PLANT as Haruka jogged toward the hangar, a cup of coffee in one hand and a half-eaten breakfast bar in the other. He was late—again. His ZGMF-X56S Impulse, newly painted with custom blue accents, waited for him like an impatient beast. “Sorry, sorry!” he called out to the maintenance crew, who were already doing pre-flight checks. “I had to finish the latest mobile suit combat sim last night. Almost had a perfect score.”

“Your perfect score doesn’t matter if you’re not here on time,” grumbled Lieutenant Murakami, his commanding officer. Haruka just grinned, gulping down the last of the coffee and tossing the cup into a recycler. “Relax, Lieutenant. It’s just a routine patrol. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous last words. Ten minutes later, Haruka was soaring through the debris belt between the PLANT and Earth, his Impulse’s sensors scanning for unauthorized ships. The mission was supposed to be boring—and boring was good. He hummed a tune from an old Earth pop song as he adjusted his grip on the controls. The mobile suit responded smoothly, its beam rifle holstered and shield mounted on the back.

“Patrol Leader, this is Haruka. All clear so far. Just a bunch of rocks.”

“Copy, Haruka. Stay alert. Civilian traffic has increased in this sector.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Then his radar blipped. A small signal, barely registering. He zoomed in on the display. It was a capsule of some kind, drifting lazily. Not military—looked like a cargo container. Curious, he steered the Impulse closer. The capsule had the logo of a civilian food company. Probably lost cargo from a freighter. He’d have to report it for retrieval.

But as he reached out to grab it, the capsule’s side panel suddenly burst open, releasing a flock of small, spherical drones. They swarmed around his mobile suit, beeping and flashing. Haruka froze. “What the—?”

The drones started spraying something—a sticky, sweet-smelling substance that clung to the Impulse’s sensors and cameras. His visor view became partially obscured. “Hey! Who’s there? Identify yourself!”

A laughter echoed over the comm channel. It sounded young, playful. “Gotcha! You’re my target, Impulse pilot! Catch me if you can!”

A streak of bright pink mobile suit—a modified GINN—shot out from behind a nearby asteroid. It was covered in decals and had a massive speaker rig mounted on its shoulder. Haruka blinked. “What... is that?”

The pink GINN began to dance, literally. It moved in a sequence of coordinated, absurdly artistic movements, firing not beams but confetti launchers. Streamers flew through space, tangling around the Impulse’s legs. Haruka tried to dodge, but the confetti stuck to the sticky substance, making his suit clumsy.

“Whoa, wait! Cease fire! This isn’t combat!” he yelled.

“Aww, but it’s just a game! I’m the Space Whirlwind, the greatest mobile suit entertainer in the PLANTs! And you, sir, are my honored audience!”

The pink GINN did a triple backflip and fired a smoke screen that turned into a heart shape. Haruka couldn’t help but snort. This was ridiculous. But also… kind of fun. He hadn’t had this much excitement in weeks.

“Okay, Space Whirlwind, you’re under arrest for violating… something. But first, let me get you back.”

He cut his thrusters and let the Impulse drift, then used a precise burst to shake off most of the sticky goo. The drones scattered as he grabbed one of the confetti launchers and yanked it off the pink suit. The GINN spun, surprised.

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

“Fair? You started this.” Haruka grinned inside his helmet. He engaged the Impulse’s mobility and darted behind the asteroid. The pink GINN chased him, but he led it into a narrow passage between rocks. With a quick maneuver, he grabbed the GINN’s arm and twisted, pinning it against the asteroid.

“Yield?” he asked.

The pink suit’s cockpit hatch opened and a young woman with bright purple hair popped out, waving a white flag. “I yield! You’re too good! I’m just a civilian performer trying to test my new routine. Please don’t arrest me!”

Haruka sighed, retracting his beam saber. “You can’t just ambush military mobile suits. That’s dangerous.”

The woman smiled sheepishly. “I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. I’ve seen your patrols and you always look so serious. I wanted to add some color to your day.”

He couldn’t stay mad. She was harmless, if a bit eccentric. “I’ll report this as a training exercise. But you need to get proper clearance for live stunts. Deal?”

“Deal! And maybe next time we can have a real dance battle?”

Haruka laughed. “We’ll see.” As he escorted her pink GINN back to civilian space, he realized that sometimes even the most routine patrols could surprise you.

Back at base, the maintenance crew had a field day cleaning the ridiculous gunk off his Impulse. Lieutenant Murakami just shook his head. “I don’t want to know. Just… don’t let it happen again.”

Haruka saluted. “Yes, sir. But it was fun.” He walked off, checking his messages. The Space Whirlwind had sent a friend request on the PLANT social network. He accepted it with a smile.

After all, life in the military didn’t have to be all doom and gloom. Sometimes a little lightheartedness was the best sort of mission.