Damn:
The gun was hot in his hand. Everything was hot. The leaves seemed to cling damply to the trees and the clouds hung in the sky hoping for a breeze. Almost as much as he wanted one. He undid his helmet and threw it to the ground, involuntarily crying out at the pain in his neck. He threw his glove off and brought his hand to his neck. His hand was covered in crimson.
"Damn it!"
He looked around. Where in the hell was the Strike Freedom? He was in no imminent danger, unless he feared crazed possums eating his flesh, so he holstered the gun. He heard running water. Leaping to his feet, he rushed in the direction of the sound. Yes! He knelt amongst the baking leaf-litter and drunk deeply from the lake. He sat back and began washing the blood from his neck.
"Where the hell am I?" he thought.
"You have to give it up! All you are doing is confusing everyone…and if you won't…I will have to kill you!" there was a ripping noise as he felt a blade sink into his GUNDAM from behind. What the…? He spiralled toward the earth. The intercom crackled, "Ki…get outta there…ira…hurry!" Lacus…?
He looked up suddenly as he heard a splash. He saw…pink?
"LACUS!"
He threw his helmet, gloves and boots aside and threw himself into the water. He swam through the cool depths towards Lacus. Please let her be all right. He put in a burst of speed and finally reached her. He swam her back to the shore.
"Please, please, please, pl…." he checked her pulse with one hand, wiping the combination of sweat, tears and silt from his eyes with the other. His fingers brushed up against something at the back of her neck – a bullet hole and…blood.
Wait…this dress. This can't be Lacus, and the clip-it's a star. Meer Campbell.
"Damn it!"
He checked the wound again. She was very dead. But the blood was still flowing. Rolling the body away from him with his foot, he looked around, leapt into a tree and drew his pistol-as only a coordinator can.
"DAMN IT!"
A bullet whistled past his cheek as he wheeled around to position himself behind the tree's trunk. His eyes flashed as he jumped to the ground, rolling to avoid more bullets. He took a blind shot and was surprised to hear its victim crash to the ground in the forest. He ran quickly to his attacker, keeping the gun in front of him.
"Durandal?"
The man looked up at him. "Damn you Ki…" he sighed and shut his eyes.
The young man turned away. Why the hell am I killing all these people? And what the hell is the supreme Chairman of The Plants doing unprotected in this god-forsaken place? He kicked the ground in frustration. He looked up as he noticed someone standing in front of him. A little boy with long brown hair knotting around his face and big brown eyes full of fear.
"Hey", said the pilot, "are you lost?" he heard the man behind him stir and, fearing the worst he dodged, just in time. The bullet thudded into the arm of the boy.
"Damn it!" the young man cried, shooting Durandal in the chest. He ran to the boy who would have been no more then eleven. He knelt beside the child and cried, his hot tears splashing among the leaves on the ground, evaporating as soon as they had hit the earth. The boy watched him with big eyes. He didn't notice another person creep up behind him.
The butt of a gun rammed heavily into his head.