Chapter 38: Words Left Unspoken
January 2, UC 0080 - It was a scene of death, Major Alfonso thought. The death of hundred of fine young boys... Federal engineering crews had tried to clean up most of the wreckage, but the horror remained. Even now, the dismembered head of a Zaku floated pass his ship, the sole reminder of what had been a promising life. But now, at least, it was finally over. The politicans would still mill over the details, but the killing had finally ended. But maybe, it was not soon enough. Maybe they would still make the same mistake over and over again... But, maybe there was still hope. Just as how one of his ship's GM pilots had carried a wounded Zeon one with him back onboard. The very one that had been his mortal enemy with only seconds before. Maybe, if there was enough people like him who were left on this world. Maybe we do have a chance, someday, somehow...
But regardless, he thought. He had one last thing to do. He faced the fortress that had consumed so many lives, and raised his right hand to the tip of his cap. Saluting. For all of them, not just ours... "Juan, you going home now?" John asked as they met in the wardroom. It seemed a lot more empty than before... "Yeah, I've seen enough war," Juan replied with a nod, "I've learned it isn't what they say it to be, and I'm glad to have made it out of it." "Well, you have become smarter. Good luck, Juan," John replied as he shook his hand, "Take care." Juan nodded and turned away to leave. He still needed some time a lone to grieve lost friends.
John sighed and nodded his head. At least he would be able to live with himself, John thought. He had not become a hate obsessed monster like so many else in this war. But there was one very depressed person he had to visit... Sylvie sat alone in the GM Sniper's cockpit, sobbing. It was... it was the only place she had left of him... everything else was gone... his smile... his touch... it was all gone. And she had never even managed to tell her that she loved her... She felt for the compartment under the seat. If she remembered right the firearm was stored there... she had nothing to live for, so why go on? She found it, a standard Colt M71A1 pistol. "Sylvie, it's not even loaded," John suddenly interrupted as he let himself in the cockpit, "I took out the bullets beforehand." "And why don't you just leave me alone!" Sylvie shot back, "I... I loved him and couldn't forgive him enough to finally say it... and now he's dead... I can... I can never tell him now... and he'll always think that I hate him..." "Sylvie, do you actually believe that?" John asked in a calm, but gentle tone. Back to my old guidance counseling job again, John thought to himself, just to keep him from being too depressed to help out. "Yes... that's why he told me how he really felt..." Sylvie replied, her voice cracking, "Because he was asking me to forgive him..." "That's part of it," John admitted. "What do you mean?" Sylvie asked, tears still trickling down her cheek. "He... he knew that you loved him, Sylvie. He always knew. Even if you didn't tell him, your tears were enough... It was enough to tell him that you loved him. That was why he didn't wait for you to answer anymore. Because he knew that you had admitted to yourself, that you loved him..." John comforted. You don't need to say it to show that you love somebody Sylvie... "But I couldn't admit it to him..." Sylvie replied, this time more quietly. More depressed than actually grieving, "And now I'm really alone..." "So are you just going to let him die in vain, Sylvie?" John suddenly asked, this time more firmly, "He told you that he would always love you, didn't he Sylvie? He said that because he didn't want him to be an obstacle. He wanted you to be able to find somebody else to love... and somebody else to love you..." "Why... why are you saying this, John?" Sylvie asked, beginning to feel a little better, but stillcold and depressed. "Because... some people wait their whole lives waiting for somebody to love, and somebody willing to love them back. I was lucky, I found that person when I was still young. But many people aren't that lucky, and... just call it the romantic in me... The part of me who wants to see other people happy," John answered. "John... you'd better go back to her now, she must be missing you..." Sylvie reminded. "Yeah... but I'm not due to go home for a few more days," John explained, "So if you need me..." "No, John," Sylvie replied, shaking her head, "Thank you for being a good friend." "So you promise not to kill yourself anymore?" John asked almost as a joke.
Sylvie shook her head, but her expression changed to depression once again. She could never feel happy again, no matter what John said. She had become just like Max... a cold, lonely person. But she still had to go on... for him, didn't she? And for myself... "Ming, you're alive," Colonel Jefferson exclaimed as he saw his old veteran pilot in Granada's dock. He looked very tired, but at least he was alive, "I thought..." "I barely got away," Ming explained, "But I have to get going soon sir. Our fight must go on." "No Ming, it's only your fight now," Jefferson corrected, "I'm staying here. I think I've fought enough..." "But sir..." Ming started. "There are two transports ready to take you to one of the resistance forces," Jefferson continued, cutting him off, "One goes to Axis in the asteroid belt were the main fleet is going, the second one under Colonel Delaz who is going to start a small guerilla war of his own soon. If you really want to continue, that is." "Why don't you come sir?" Ming asked. "Because I'm tired of this war," Jefferson replied simply, "Just too many people have died. I had just seen the White Wolf a few days ago and he's still undecided what to do. Lt. General Dozul's death really devastated him. He might go to Axis for Mineva sake, though. She and Zena are the only members of the Zabi family who survived." "I understand," Ming replied, "And thank you sir. I think I'll join Delaz, Axis seems a little too far away for me." "But your future might be more secure at Axis," Jefferson countered.
"That's true, Sir," Ming replied quietly, "But I still have many more Feddies to kill," he finished. But at least I finally got that sniper... he thought. That weakling who cried out for his girl just before he died...
January 14, UC 0080 - She had been waiting for so long, Cynthia thought, and only one of them was coming back... She had thought she was preapred for this, but it still hurt... She suddenly felt a hand holding her own, squeezing it tightly. She turned to see who it was. It was John. "I'm sorry, that I couldn't save your dad Cynthia..." John apologized, "He did want to say, that he was sorry, and that he loved you..." Cynthia simply nodded, speechless. But she took a step away from John, "John... do... do you just care about me... like a daughter?" she suddenly asked. "Cynthia?" John asked, surprised. "Because... I don't want you... to just be a replacement for my dad..." Cynthia continued, close to tears. Because you mean a lot more to me, she didn't have the courage to say. "What makes you say that?" John asked. Was she feeling guilty? Or was she afraid that he was loving me for the wrong reason? "Because... you always wanted to be a good father and..." Cynthia spluttered, close to tears. "And if I said yes?" John asked quietly. Not knowing the answer she would live. "I... would still love you John, but I can't let you comfort me..." Cynthia replied, "I don't want to just use you... not at a time like this..." "Cynthia..." John started as he took a step towards her, holding her shoulders with his hands, "I may have always said that I wanted to be a good father..." Cynthia felt herself pulling closer to him, letting herself feel his warmth. I have missed you, haven't I? But if... "But before that, I want to be a loving husband first," John continued as he kissed Cynthia gently in the forehead, "And to spend the rest of my life... with you..."
Cynthia simply nodded as she hugged him tightly. She had lost her father, but she the love of her life had finally returned. Someone to hold her, someone to wipe away her tears. Someone, who she could love.
"Welcome home, Major General Dolvich," General Nicolo greeted as they met at Luna Two. You ruined everything you *******. And now with the damn treaty being signed by those fools, "peace," was once again at hand.
"Thank you, Sir." Dolvich replied. Too bad we can't court martial you since Tianem, Revil and Wakkein had all died carrying the evidence with them, he thought. You slippery snake, "If you don't mind, it's been a long day, Sir." "And miss, you are..." the re-enlisment officer asked. "Lieutenant Sylvie Gressier," Sylvie replied quietly. "Oh? From Side 6, eh?" the officer read from her bio, "We don't get many from Side 6 who want to re-enlist." "I have my reasons," Sylve replied coldly. "Well good luck in MS piloting, miss," the officer enouraged with a smile, "Hell with a record like yours you'll probably end up teaching me."
Sylvie simply nodded. This was her life now. Just to be a soldier. She had nothing left back at home anyway, so all she could try to do is to protect them. Just as how Max would have probably have wanted it. He had died, but millions more could live because of him. Maybe this was what she was really meant for. Somebody who was there to protect those who could not protect themselves. And maybe there she could find something to fill the loneliness in herheart. So many proud young faces, yet so few returned, Dolvich thought. And all he could think about now, was it all worth it? He had lost many friends, countless have lost their loved ones. Sons and daughters left fatherless or motherless, a grieving sweetheart left back home. And to make it worse, hardly anybody even knew what had happened, on both sides. They were the writeoffs. The ones who would not even get a paragraph on a history text book. Maybe not even a footnote. When they talked about the One Year War, it would be about the Ruum, Solomon, Odessa, A Baoa Qu. And the Gundam. Never about the 17th Fleet. Never about Karl Grunther, Sean Patterson, Max Harper, or any other common soldier down the line. They would all simply be forgotten, though not by him. He would never forget them. But still, the answer was... yes. Outside, he could still see the lights from the distant colonies of Side 6, still safe and peaceful. Free from those who wanted to do them ill. Many had died, but millions still live. Millions of people not at all quite unlike themselves, or anyone for that matter, who were now living the lives that those men who had not returned so wanted to live. They had all died, not for fame and glory, but to give a gift. And that gift was perhaps the most important one of all: life.
~ FIN ~
Notice: This story and all related material is copyrighted by Thomas E. "Zinegata" Ting, no part of this story may be taken by any other person. If you wish to use any material, please contact me first. Gundam and all related trademarks are owned by their respective companies. |
