Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam 00 or any of their characters.
Simulation training is so overrated.
It would seem to be day of many firsts for the young pilot, as she could feel the slow, warm rivulet of blood trickle down her face.
Her first time piloting the Flag to real battle.
Her first touch on the trigger.
Her first real fight.
And yet here she was, smoke billowing from her mangled Union Flag that lay motionless metres away from her. She could feel a cry coming out from her parched throat, but no sound was heard. It was just the raging whisper of the desert wind and the faint noise of battle continuing all around her, of time and things moving on already without her.
She could only manage a desperate mumble. A gargled and bloodied name of a comrade whom she had forgotten if he was dead or not. All the young pilot remembered was that moments after she had scrambled out of her own cockpit to get to her comrade's Flag, there was a deafening explosion, and the metallic body of his Flag turned from dark blue to red-hot in a matter of seconds. Burning shrapnel pierced her skin, and all she could see was red. Red ribbons of blood and tissue.
My leg…
What was left… She couldn't think. Couldn't think of the emptiness below where her right leg was supposed to be. Her brain tried against her will, to understand everything. But the pain was too much. Her system was fried, it was numb to everything.
Is this were it all ends? Her heart whispered. All that I have worked for, does it stop right now?
A faint image. Blond, messy hair, and those greenish eyes. Her bloodied face broke into a painful wry smile. She wished the Captain were here, to hold her hand, unlikely as it may be. She wished for him to soothe her in his calm, assertive voice, to make the end much more painless.
The young pilot could admit it now, that she had always had a thing for her Captain. Those endless denials and friendly teases were so trivial at this moment that it broke her heart.
No time for regrets now. No time for anything else, for that matter, she thought as her vision began to grow dark.
The grating scrunch of boots against sand jolted her. Her eyes flew open and she could faintly make out the outline of a man amongst the sand and wind that flew around him. He was coming closer, slower and slower with every step as his image became clearer at the same time. It was then that she noticed that something huge and solid had obscured the sun that had beaten down mercilessly on her before. She knew what it was before her brain had even registered it.
"Gundam…" She whispered with faint disbelief. Her hand had unknowingly reached behind her, where the squared hilt of her gun that was momentarily forgotten dug into the back of her waist. As her fingers wrapped itself protectively around the hilt, her brain slowly awakened her to realization.
A chance had just presented itself to her. It was not the chance of her survival, but more of the chance to avenge.
The man was close now. She could make out his appearance, shoulder length brown locks, bright green eyes and the striking uniform that literally announced his identity. The look of his clean unfrayed uniform and his pale dirt-less face somehow made her want to vomit. She imagined it tattered and grimy, covered with the wearer's own blood.
Her vision cleared, and her senses came alive. Wait. I must wait.
He stopped metres away from her body. There was no hint of emotion etched on his impassive face, but his eyes held something. Pity? Or regret? She wondered. There was no way of telling. A sigh escaped from his lips. It was a long and silent exhale of breath that almost seemed apologetic. He brushed stray brown locks from his face, and lowered his knees till they pressed against the churning sand underneath them.
She tried to squirm away from him, fear and panic rising like a bubble in her chest. Pain cut into her like knives with every movement, and with every stab of pain her eyes welled with tears. She began to cough as she gasped for oxygen, as if this sudden proximity with an enemy had sucked every inch of air out of her lungs.
A gloved hand reached out to stop her. "Don't move. Your leg…."
She pushed his hand away, blood dripping down from her lips. Her mouth trembled as words formed, but her voice eluded her again.
Stay away from me.
It was evident that he had understood her, as he pulled back his outstretched hand. His eyes couldn't meet her gaze now, and he could only stare at the bloody mass that was what's left of her right leg. He spoke again, more softly now that she almost couldn't hear.
"You need help. You won't last any longer like that. "
The young Union pilot almost laughed, and she tightened her grip on her gun. Those words were smothered with misplaced pity. Pity that she denied with rage. She hated this man. Hated him for showing pity to her after he had killed without pity.
He started again towards her, but no sooner had he started to move, he was forced to stop. The gun barrel hovered a few inches from his forehead, held up with all the strength she could muster. It trembled in her hand, and she felt like a child holding a real gun for the first time. After all those years of arms training and target practice, the cold weapon felt alien in her hands.
"No. Don't come near me." She spoke now, her voice shaking.
The man froze. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He met her gaze now, his green eyes boring into her dark brown ones. There was an unnerving measure of calm around him, and she briefly wondered if this was a man that had experienced too much of what war had to offer.
A long silence stretched itself between the Gundam meister and the bloodied Flag Fighter. He brushed his hair of his face once again, and a slight chuckle escaped from his lips. "Well, can't say I never expected this." He said aloud as if to himself as he turned from her and stood, brushing off sand in the process.
It was a chance to exact her revenge, with the gun now pointed at the back of his head. Her finger slowly caressed the curve of the trigger, and she willed herself to shoot.
I will end this.
The pain was back again, stronger than ever. It hit her like a wave, threatening to throw her off her fragile consciousness. Her grip momentarily slackened.
I will end this!
She could see his head turn and he regarded her for a while, like an observant scientist waiting for a miracle to happen. She imagined a twisted kindness in him, an enemy who killed her friend. She imagined seeing a slight sad smile as he took in the sight of her, a tear-ridden dying mess of a human being. She imagined the worthlessness of it all, of killing and dying, of war repeating the process again and again. Tears flowed freely down her face now, mixing with her blood and sweat, lacing with the pain that was coming from every inch of her body.
I will end…
It was too much. She raised her arm, and the gun was in place. The metallic coldness of the gun barrel now brushed against the side of her head. Her eyes were open, and above her the Gundam gazed down at her like a serene god.
I'm sorry Captain…
BANG!
AN: I've always had this story on my mind for many months but I've never found the urge to write it down until now. I thought it would be easy to write since I've gone through the story details and how I wanted it to flow many many times in my mind, but I still had to use up a day and a half just to finish this. The female pilot is just a random character, while I chose Lockon for the story because he just seemed like a character who would go against the rules. I want this to stay as a one-shot, but at the same time I have been thinking about continuing the story. Anyway, I'll stop my rambling. Reviews are welcome! :D
