AN This is not brilliantly written, I know that, but I hope it's okay.

Disclaimer: Are you kidding me? Of course I don't own them. Sadly enough.


Conversation


A young OZ soldier shifted nervously from one foot to another. He was standing guard just outside a darkened room. The prisoner inside was vital to OZ. It was one of the Gundam pilots. He had heard much about them. About the phenomenal fire power of their Mobile Suits. About their amazing skills and stamina. He felt proud at being given such an important job as to stand guard over one of them.

He was still very young. His twentieth birthday was still two months away. He had never doubted what his career would be. Neither had his father. He was a high-ranking officer in OZ and expected his son to be equally successful in his military career.

A sound from the darkened room made him tighten his grip on his weapon.

"Don't worry, kid," a voice rasped. "I couldn't attack you even if I wanted too. I'm all tied up, and even if I weren't, I can't even support my own weight."

The young soldier didn't answer, merely clutched his gun tighter. He had recognized that tone in the pilot's voice. He had heard it in those of veterans from former wars and battles. It was a wariness, a rustic edge that spoke of a strange kind of wisdom. And all war veterans had their own unique, yet somehow similar life philosophy. Without it being spoken, it could be heard in the way the talked, seen in the way they moved, their facial expressions.

The young soldier didn't think he would stand a chance against a Gundam pilot fully capable of fighting.

"You're a bit young to have joined up with OZ, aren't you?"

"My father is an officer." The words slipped from his tongue, before he could choke them back. There was something in the pilots voice that made him say that. Not a forcing, demanding tone, but kind and coaxingly talkative. It was as if the man wanted a nice chat before being transported to death row where he wouldn't be able to talk to anyone anymore.

"Oh, that's nice. So you're following in your father's footsteps. You know I'm gonna say I don't think very highly of his footsteps, but considering what I am, one can hardly blame me, ne?" There was a silent laugh in the voice.

"I guess," the soldier murmured.

"Well, at least you have a father whose footsteps you can follow. Praise yourself lucky with that, kid. Family is too damn valuable, not to."

The soldier frowned at the melancholiness in the voice. He supposed the Gundam pilot never knew his family. What self-respecting parent would voluntarily donate his child to become a rebellious soldier for a desperate cause?

"You like being a soldier, kid?"

The question startled him. Why would the pilot be interested in his feelings about being a soldier? "Yes," he answered, a little confused.

"You don't sound so sure of yourself."

The soldier frowned. "I am. I do like it. I get to be with people who think like me and who know so much about war and life and all. It's very interesting and exciting."

There was a moment of silence. "If you look at it that way."

"You don't like being a Gundam pilot?" the soldier returned the question.

"At the moment?" Humor sounded in the voice and the soldier had to appreciate it. Even in the face of death the man wouldn't lose all hope in life. "But no, I don't. It's more of a duty than a calling. I happened to be at the right place at the right time, or wrong depends on how you look at it. Anyone in my place could have been picked. I think," he added as an afterthought.

"You think?" the soldier asked. His curiosity about the pilot had been piqued and he wanted to know more, interested in the man's tale.

"Yeah, well, all of us are different, you know. All Gundam pilots, I mean. So that makes you think, you know. Whether we had been chosen for personal choices, reasons we don't know yet, and perhaps never will. We're as different as our Gundams, I think. We use different weapons, different methods of attacking, just like we are different people."

The soldier remained silent after that. He had never really thought about it, but it made perfect sense. Everybody was human. If OZ soldiers were all independent human beings, and he knew from experience they were, then there was no reason Gundam pilots weren't. He had once heard a record of a transmission between a Gundam pilot and an OZ commander. That voice had sounded a lot different from this one. That pilot had been 05 and had sounded heated, full of conviction. This pilot, 02, sounded more like an everyday guy with an ironic sense of humor.

"Do you know the other pilots well?"

"We hardly worked as a group, kid. Most of the time our fingers were twitching on the trigger with our aim at a fellow pilot. We may have roughly the same goals, our reasons for fighting are quite different."

"Like how?"

"I'm not stupid, kid. I'm not telling you. That might lead OZ to them." There was a shifting in the darkness of clothed limbs against a metal floor. "Sometimes we can work together though, if a mission calls for it."

"Like in Siberia?" the soldier asked.

"Yeah, though that wasn't entirely planned. We just showed up at the same place at the same time."

"Did 01 really self-detonate?" He could hardly contain the curiosity in his voice. He had heard the story and also that the pilot had survived it to later continue his duel with the Lighting Count, but he hadn't really believed it.

"Yeah, kid, he did." The pilot's voice sounded weary, as if he didn't like to remember that particular instant in time.

The soldier blinked, awed by the weight those few words carried. So pilot 01 had really had self-detonated for the Colonies. He had refused to let the Colonies be used as leverage on him and had taken the only one he could have, out of the equation. Himself. The soldier suddenly thought he understood why Zechs Marquise had wanted a rematch against the pilot. He truly was amazing.

"Did you ever meet the Lightning Count?" the young soldier asked, still thinking about the most respected field soldier of Oz.

"No, not up-close. I mean, he was there in Siberia, of course, but that was the extent of it. Heard he's pretty impressive. Too bad for you guys he turned on Oz, eh?"

The young soldier chose wisely not to answer that. "How were you captured?" he asked instead.

A snort was his answer. "Those bastards blew up my buddy. I was a bit... loud about my thoughts on that. Conclusions are so easily drawn then."

"Buddy?"

"Yeah, my buddy, my Gundam."

"Oh."

A chuckle. "Surprised I call him that? That what soldiers do, you know, whether they pilot their suit or fighter, or use their own gun all the time. My buddy brought me this far, kept me alive for a long time. So, he's my buddy. The only constant, loyal thing in my life. Well, it was anyway."

The soldier heard the choked undercurrent in the otherwise nonchalant voice. The pilot had not enjoyed seeing the public 'execution' of his Gundam.

"Did you fight dolls yet?" the young soldier diverted the pilot's thoughts. He sort of felt sorry for the man, to be reminded of such a thing in he last hours of his life.

A snort. "Stupid things," the man growled.

"What do you mean?" the soldier asked, confused. He thought the dolls were a fantastic invention. He had been liable to be trained as a mobile suit pilot and then he would have had to take on a Gundam. No, as glorious as defeating one of those machines would be, he was a little more realistic than that. He'd be killed.

"They should have never have been made," the Gundam pilot continued. "Soldiers are not stone cold killers. We too feel emotion, relate to other people. The enemy. If we didn't do that, we'd have a hard time trying to figure out what the enemy would do, ne? But with the introduction of Mobile Dolls to battle, that empathy has been taken out of the equation and we have to rely on skill alone. It is then, that war becomes so brutal. Nothing but a slaughtering of men and machines. Still, it minimizes the casualties I suppose.

Ironic, isn't? Mobile Dolls make a war cruder, but at the same time, less soldiers have to die. I don't agree with this whole new tactic though. Those machine take away what little humanity war has left."

The young soldier was silent after that answer. He saw some sense in that. What if the colonies united against Oz? It didn't look like they'd be doing that any time soon, but what if they did, and started making their own dolls? Then it would be two armies of dolls against each other, until one of the parties ran out of resources to make more. Then they might as well take on each other in a computer game.

He shuddered at the prospect.

"You see? I think us Gundam pilots have been given a different purpose. And not just because the colonies abandoned us, bunch of lowlife, backstabbing chickens. Maybe we have to prove a war without soldiers is completely ridiculous. Well, I don't know. I don't think I'll be doing much more fighting anyhow."

The young soldier swallowed. That was right. He was talking to a man who was going to die very soon. It was almost a shame. He sounded kinda nice.

"Chin up, kid. Here comes my escord."

The young soldier blinked in surprise, then quickly looked to his left. A few seconds later he could here boots marching on the steel floor of the lunar base. The pilot had to have amazing hearing to have noticed that so soon.

Drawing himself up to stand ram-rod straight, he stood ready to be relived form his duty. Surprised he noticed his father had accompanied the group of soldiers to take the pilot away. Saluting his superior, he received a nod from his parent and a slight gesture to join the older man's side.

He watched with his father as three soldiers disappeared in the cell. A jingling of chains and keys was heard. Then they reappeared. Stunned the young soldier could only stare as a boy was half-carried by two of the three soldiers.

"See ya, kid. Don't get shot," the boy said, in a voice too old for him. Violet eyes flashed a moment behind limp brown bangs. Then the soldiers whisked him away.

The young soldier swallowed. "Father?" he asked. "How come he's so young?"

His elder didn't answer for moment. Then a sigh escaped him. "Amazing isn't it? The other pilots are just as young. Only fifteen years old."

"He sounded so old," the young soldier murmured.

"I know, son, I know." Acting as parent, rather than a superior officer, he slung an arm around his son's shoulders. "Come on, let's head for the canteen and get ourselves something strong."

The soldier nodded and let himself be steered away.


AN I know this never happened, and I also know Oz would never have let a single nineteen year old soldier guard a Gundam pilot. But I think it did result in a nice little one-shot. I thought it made a nice contrast, a young Oz recruit (he's nameless on purpose) against a Gundam pilot. I tried everything to display the strangeness of the situation, that even though the Oz soldier is older, he's considered younger, also by Duo, who knows he's younger. Please review and give your thoughts on this.