With his spine as rigid as steel, Laytn watched as the Mobile Suit before him knelt in the sand. A roil of emotion moved through his veins, and he thought distantly that he was glad Milo was standing beside him. The sheer weight of the moment seemed almost palpable to Laytn, dragging down upon his shoulders like leaden chains. The value of all the death, all the destruction, all those spacenoid men and women broken forever in body and mind, had it amounted to nothing? The precursors of tears welled at the corners of Laytn’s eyes as the Federation pilot, regaled in his khaki uniform, stepped down from the cockpit of the GM.

[i]We’ve been reduced to this?[/i] Laytn thought, forcing back his tears. [i]We’ve betrayed every Zeon soul gone before us.[/i]

It was all Laytn could do to stand, stoic and resilient, as Milo barked out the formal declaration of surrender. With his blue eyes staring coldly from beneath the bill of his cover, Laytn bore his gaze into the face of the Federation officer who introduced himself as Corporal Flint Hobten. It made him almost flinch when the man brought a smile to his face, and offered Milo his hand. For a long moment, Laytn wondered if his comrade would take it. When he did, the relief on both Milo’s and Corporal Hobten’s features was apparent. Laytn remained tense.

“Maybe just a couple more than two, but sure as hell not as many as a year ago. You Federation boys made sure of that,” Laytn said quietly, his lip snarling at the corporal. His response was automatic, as if the forced barb would somehow makeup for the humiliation of surrendering the 261st. 

Hobten’s eyes flashed with surprise as they looked to Laytn, but he said nothing in reply. The man’s decency made Laytn feel all the more ashamed. With a shaky intake of breath, Laytn sighed, and brought his hand up into a salute. Bringing his hand down from the brow of his right eye, he extended it to the corporal.

“My apologies for that. My pride…” Laytn said, trailing off. “…I hope you can understand.”

Hobten nodded, genuine empathy writing itself on the man’s face as he spoke. “No offense taken, Lieutenant…?”

“Aarom. Lieutenant Laytn Aarom.”

Hobten grasped Laytn’s hand, and shook it warmly. “It’s my honor to meet both of you.”