The Wake
Introduction : This is a short fic I did some time ago from a Role
Playing Game set in the Gundam One year war. Mainly for the GM and I to
establish some character development., but I thought, why not post it to
the list, as it is an anime fanfic of sorts.
Anyone _in_ the campaign, in the unlikely event you're on the list, read
no further please.. there are spoilers here!
To all the Revenge Enders, to confirm your impressions.. yes, it is
angsty..
Funny that.
There is a 'Dramatis Persona' at the end which should answer some
questions.
So, on with the show!
+++++
Music : Something slow and minor key, Say Ayeka's theme
It was evening.
Michael Grey sat under a tree watching the remnants of sunset over the
Australian Outback, behind him, on the hardstand of the base was the
Triton, light and sounds of the Garma wake-party spilling from the left
MS hanger bay.
+++++
Someone approached. Grey started at the noise and looked to see who.
It was Lt Catherine Schomberg, weaving a little, with two glasses and a
bottle. He started to stand.
"Na, siddown, we're off duty and it's a party"
"Yes sir"
"Jesus Mike, I've never seen anyone before who can _sit_ at attention.
Lighten up... and call me Cat."
She sat down beside him, half filled the two glasses and handed him
one. After sniffing at it he tried to hand it back
"Sir, Cat, you know I don't drink..."
"Well I'm not drinking alone, So _Drink_ it Freddy!. That's an order!"
*Orders, yeah, following orders...* he thought bleakly, looking at the
glass *What does it matter anyway...* He had successfully avoided any
serious talks with her up to now. She, and the other pilot, Cypher were
the most dangerous to his masquerade, there were too many things he
didn't know, from training, academy, background...
"You look like shit Mike" Schomberg commented, after studying the pilot.
He did, he was clean and shaved, and his uniform was as immaculate as
ever, but he looked as grey as his name, and his eyes showed exhaustion
and stress. Flashing a look back , he turned away, glanced down at the
glass and skulled it.
He then proceeded to spray most of it out again in a paroxysm of
coughing and spluttering.
Cat patted him roughly on the back until he recovered berating him for
wasting booze as she did.
"What was that stuff? Rocket fuel?" he gasped finally.
"Weel, funny you should say that, I got it from the Black Gang, its a
bit rough."
<<note the Black Gang is the engine room crew>>
"Rough she says.. like saying Gren is a little ambitious" he muttered.
She refilled his glass and they sat for a while sipping.
+++++
Rowena hadn't been able to find her boyfriend at the party in the
hanger, for that matter, she hadn't been able to find him much at all
since the last mission.
He was either working on the captured ZAK, in the training sim-rigs,
planning the infiltration or asleep, or rather not asleep but lying
staring at the ceiling. He didn't seem to be consciously avoiding her,
but he was always distracted. Something was eating away at him and it
had gotten worse in the last few days, but she didn't know what.
She knew why he wouldn't fully confide in her, it's not easy to admit
you're really a 'dead' Zeon officer in Federation uniform, especially
when you still have family on the other side...
She had gone back to her room when Lennart began to mimic Gren standing
in front of the big screen that had been rigged up. She could locate
him with the tracer and audio bug she had hidden in the stiff collars of
his jackets. She had put on the ear phones to listen in and sat down
+++++
Finally Cat broke the silence.
"So what's eating you already."
The unfamiliar spirits, on top of exhaustion and stress was starting to
take effect on the young pilot, for once he just couldn't be bothered
keeping the mask up all the way, thinking through everything before
speaking.
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you... Ha. Just kidding,
but no, I don't want to talk about it."
"OK already"
More time passed.
As he looked up he saw a shooting star. Since the war began, there were
a lot more of those, battle debris burning up...*Ah Garma, you idiot,
why did you have to get yourself killed...* he looked, if anything, more
depressed.
"Why did ya leave the party?"
"I don't like to celebrate anyone's death... Anyway, I just found out a
friend died... I... I didn't feel like a party"
"Oh, sorry. How'd it happen?" *so that's why he doesn't use kill
markings or wear that scarf Lennart found him *
"Vaped in action. Probably didn't even know it. One flash you're ash.
There are worse ways to go I suppose"
+++++
Rowena looked through the collection of photos she had collected, one
showed Garma Zabi, Char Asnabel and Manfred von Harlas at a party,
laughing together...
His best friend dead, and they were having a party to celebrate the
event.
+++++
"I thought you were a cold bastard Mike, ah well wrong again"
She recalled arriving at the base the first time, a few weeks after the
ship had limped in.
Her first combat command. It's only pilot coldly saluting her. It had
taken several months for him to show much emotion, cold as ice in the
sims, and a stone killer in combat. Rowena, the reporter, had arrived a
week after her, and it had been amusing to see her gradually bringing
him out of his shell, kicking and screaming at times. She had been the
one to hang the "Ice Warrior" nickname on him, which he hated
poisonously. In return he had nicknamed her 'Houdinette' for her knack
for getting in and out of places and turning up literally anywhere.
She tended to throw things at people who used it.
"We all make mistakes sir" he smiled thinly
"You know, this is the first time we've had time to have a talk...
you're slippery
"Thenk Yew" his smile was even narrower and didn't reach his eyes
"What do you think about it, the war that is.."
He thought for a moment before replying "Zeon has to be stopped. The
worst thing that could happen is for the war to drag on for long enough,
things to get desperate enough for someone to break the Antarctic
treaty. Half the human race is dead already, it wouldn't take much to
finish the job. I don't think Zeon can win .. but I don't think the
Federation will either. Zeon doesn't have the resources for a
protracted war hence the operations in resource rich areas, and the
Federation is too corrupt and internally divided... Zeon if it did
win... next generation or the one after, regimes like that don't last
and then there would be hell to pay."
He paused for a moment and looked her in the eye.
"I take the long view sir, what are we fighting for? Our friends and
loved ones? Revenge? Fear? Patriotism? Battlelust? Because we can't
think of anything better to do? I take the long view. The war must be
ended, but it must be ended in such a way that it does not lay the seeds
for another war for the next generation. That is what we must fight
for. We can't take another one like this, we have too far to fall."
His tone was colourless.
*Someone discussing the fate of humanity should show more emotion* she
thought, *and what is a Federation Warrent Officer Pilot doing with that
sort of mindset.* His accent and speech patterns had shifted slightly,
she had heard them before but she couldn't put her finger on where...
"Who's side are you on anyway, our's or Zeons?"
"To quote Tolkien, 'I'm not on anyone's side, because no one is
precisely on my side...' no, not accurate, I would prefer a Federation
victory to a Zeon victory, I marginally prefer lazy and corrupt to manic
and maniac."
"Don't you CARE?"
"I can't afford to care sir, not about that anyway, hurts too much. You
do what is necessary and you pay the price." he sighed "I suppose I do
care, just not about governments. People come first, Zeon, Federation,
Earther, Spacer we're all human first, if we don't remember that, we're
as bad as those Einsatz bastards."
"Einsatz?"
"You know, the biochem specialists. The first wave against the
colonies." he swallowed.
"Is that what they're called?... " she whispered, that was not in any
briefing she remembered...
"The poor bastards I feel sorry for are the ones with a conscience.
When they find out who and what they're fighting for, but what else can
they do? " He looked stricken but his voice was still cold "Fight and
die or surrender. Just an accident of birth... If things had been just
a little different, you and I might have faced each other."
She recalled his simulator scores, 40% faster than her... and his voice
coldly saying "Pull" as he blasted a Dop fighter on the wing, and
shivered.
"You don't really hate them do you. Most of us .."
"Old saying, when you go out for revenge, dig two graves, one for your
enemy, one for your self. At least that's what I tell myself"
"Oh yeah...So what about the Gren Zabi dart board?"
"Oh there is an element of it. I would cheerfully feed Gren into a
reactor, feet first, centimetre by centimetre" he hissed. In a more
controlled tone he continued "He belongs Dead, not for what he has done
but because he is the sort of person that he is. A bit like a razor
blade in a piece of fruit, too dangerous to be allowed to exist. But
really most of it's an act." he flashed a grin "People expect it, and
it's fun hamming it up.... Ha. The wonderful Zabi family. Self
proclaimed heirs to Zeon Zum Daikun's Republic. Fat old Degin, Dozul the
clockwork soldier, Chrysia the Machiavel, Gren the Megelopsycopath and
Garma... Garma the fool... rest in peace" his face froze "Look lets
change the subject, this is getting me even more down."
"OK, so waddya wanna talk about?"
"Lets see, not shop, not girls, not guys..." *not the future or the
past...*
"What do you want to do when the war is over? Don't you have a dream?"
"Most of my dreams are nightmares...." the muscles in his jaw tightened
as he stared into space "..and my past is ashes..." his _ID_ listed
place of birth as a now destroyed colony, parents dead, siblings missing
and was as a result uncheckable, only two people knew otherwise (as far
as he knew). himself and the dealer who sold him the ID.
"Gee you're no fun..." she joked.
"NO FUN?" He shouted, stumbling to his feet, his shell definitely
cracking. "We're in a war that has killed off half the human race, in
the middle of a half assed plan to infiltrate a Zeon base and you..." he
sat down again with a thump and took a deep breath "I'm sorry sir, that
won't happen again"
"Don't be, that's the first human reaction I've seen out of you since I
met you." a grin covering her face "You can be a real arsehole at
times."
His look back was murderous for a moment then he laughed.
"I suppose I deserved that..." he took another sip "Thank you, we all
need to laugh at ourselves occasionally."
He settled back to watch the afterglow, with the amount of dust thrown
up by the destruction of Sydney, the sunsets were really spectacular.
There was a long silence finally broken by Cat.
"I've been meaning to ask you for a while, what happened at Sydney, you
were there when O'Donnal got the Triton out?
"Oh yes, I was there..."
He stiffened, remembering.
The stink of fear and burning metal as the gantries supporting the
partially completed ship were cut away.
The unfamiliar cockpit of the GM suit as he pushed the weakened supports
away, moving multiton pieces of equipment out to get a few more square
meters of deck space to cram more people in.
'Goldie' Irminger, the XO running with a spray can marking items to go
and directing people,
O'Donnal over the comm coordinating the evacuation.
He relived the heartsickness as the shockwave hit the fleeing ship, that
he had tried and failed. That he had sacrificed his name and honour for
nothing, the mad momentary impulse to stay with his suit as it was
jettisoned to ease the load on the overstressed engines.
He remembered and drank a big slug of the white lightning.
"Yes, I was there..." there was pain in his voice.
"That bad huh."
"Worse than you could possibly imagine... The ones we had to leave...
Oh God ... We couldn't fit in any more, over 30 were crushed in the
crowd when the shockwave hit, they were packed so tightly, there wasn't
anything else we could do..."
Softly, too softly for Cat to hear, but not for the bug he whispered.
"If only I'd tried a little harder, I could have stopped it, twenty
million people, and I failed." He sagged forward, his head in his
hands.
+++++
In her cabin, Rowena sat. She could feel the tears drop onto her white
knuckles and lap.
*It makes sense now, Ensign von Harlas killed in space, body never
recovered less than 2 days before operation British, Warrent Officer
Michael Grey appears in Sydney, hours before the impact. He was trying
to stop Operation British. He never thinks small... *
A small smile crossed her face as she took off the headphones and left
her cabin to find him
+++++
As he turned away Cat placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
He jumped.
"Relax, it's the real one" she said a little coldly letting her hand
drop away.
"You know" he turned to face her wearily "It hadn't ashually crossed my
mind " his speech was finally starting to slur.
"You're my shuperior officer, a great pilot and brave, I'm jusht not
used to thinking of you as a friend..."
He stood carefully and bowed.
"I apologish for my offensh and wish to asshure you it was unin.. unin..
not meant... oh dear, I've shpilt my drink" and collapsed back to the
ground.
"Brave? what makes you say that?" replied a pink faced Cat.
He looked her in the eyes.
"I've sheen you getting into a MS cockpit, that'sh how you got hurt, an
ejection malfunction? I wash taught courage lay in overcoming fear, and
you have that in spades shir."
"And what are you afraid of Mike, Death?"
"Naaa being dead ishnt sho bad... Dying for noshin, tha scharesh me."
He tried to refill his glass but his hands were shaking too much.
"I .. I don't ... "
"I think you've had enough"
"You may be ri... I don feel at all well."
Cat studied him carefully, Michael was pale and sweaty
"You're not just drunk Mike.. Better get you back to the ship..."
"Ri as usual sir...Oh Hell*BLURK*
He still had enough control to throw up on the ground rather than
himself.
"Uppsie dasie "
The two pilots staggered back to the Triton. A little before half way,
Mike collapsed, a puppet who's strings had been cut. While not a large
man, he was still too large for the other pilot to lift unaided.
"whas happning.." he mumbled and pawed at her sleeve. "Zat you Ivan?
naa itsh Cat. Hi Cat. " his eyes closed again "why'd you have to die
you shtupid basthard Ga..."
Suddenly there was a small red headed whirlwind between the two pilots.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?"
The world went away until he opened his eyes in sick bay
He felt truly awful, there was an IV drip in his arm and his entire
body, putting it mildly, ached.
Rowena was sitting in a chair beside the bed, snoring quietly. He
smiled and decided to follow her example and went back to sleep.
He shuddered awake, the nightmare had been graphic, uncountable
multitudes of people, dead people, first a Zeon MS pilot, followed by a
Zeon fighter pilot, and a dozen maintenance crew in Zeon uniform, then
what seemed the entire Sydney area population, one after another,
accusing him wordlessly.
His fault.
His responsibility.
His failure.
He opened his eyes to see a concerned looking Rowena meeting his gaze
"Manfred Llewellyn von Harlas, if you EVER *poke* EVER *poke* scare me
like that again, you're DROPPED!"
"You.. How..Wha..." he was stunned for a moment, so was another figure
out in the corridor who quickly hurried away...
"I'm a reporter you dummy, digging up information is what I DO!" she
said, launching into a hug.
"Ah Cariad..." he thought for a moment stroking her hair with his free
hand "Oh well, it's a fair cop." he smiled and held out his wrists as
if for handcuffs as she released him from her deathgrip. "What do you
intend love?"
"Weel sweetie, given that I've been going steady with one of the most
eligible bachelors in the solar system... unless you've been cynically
toying with my affections..." she gave him an arch look.
"Never! But .. Hokay.. right. Cariad, do you know the implications?
This could get you shot, Treason you know, I'm not the safest person to
knowingly associate with. I've got enough lives on my conscience..."
"Don't you dare shut me out again, and if you say 'Need to Know" I'll
thump you. I know you've got family, and that you don't want them
endangered, and if I wanted to I could already have a Pulitzer for this
story, so talk to me you idiot! It can't make things worse, and I've
seen what it's doing to you. Trust me." she smiled
"With my lifMMPH" his reply was muffled in an enthusiastic kiss.
+++++
Dramatis Personae in order of appearance/mention.
Warrent Officer Michael Grey, MS Pilot assigned to the TFNS 'Triton', a
White Base class carrier. (Actually a Zeon deserter, Ensign Manfred
Llewellyn von Harlas, titular heir to the von Harlas
Schweremachinerywerk GmbH (Side 3).. The GM rolled it.. really!)
Lt Catherine Schomberg : MS Squadron Commander, TFNS Triton. Ex test
pilot. She has an artificial arm after an ejection malfunction.
Rowena Munroe : War correspondent assigned to TFNS Triton.
Lt Lennart : Commander of TFNS Triton's troop contingent.
Gren Zabi : De-facto ruler of Zeon and full time psychopath.
Warrent Officer Louis Cypher : MS Pilot assigned to TFNS Triton, with
contacts in Federation Naval Intelligence.
Garma Zabi : Youngest of the Zabi clan, actually not such a bad sort.
Killed in action.
Char Aznable AKA the Red Comet : Zeon MS ace.
Captain O'Donnel : CO TFNS Triton.