Disclaimer: Don't own, so nobody sue!
Hiya! Ok, so this is a oneshot I came up with ages ago and wasn't let forget about it until I wrote it. Set in the year C.E. 132. Athrun and Yzak are now old men nearing death in a retirment home. During breakfast one morning, they both decide that it's better to KIA, than to waste away. Old soldiers have but one dream, to die in action.
The walls were white, far too white. White symbolised purity, and this place was anything but pure. This place took the souls of once powerful men and women...and ground them to dust. It destroyed more people than the great wars of the past. That was it's only purpose...to destroy.
'Mr Jule, breakfast is starting.' Yzak growled. He hated that title. "Mr", it said nothing about him. It made him part of the many in this place. "Mr" was a way for the entire body of people in this place to become one. They had no names now. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, using his crutch for support. He'd lost his leg protecting his people, and those people had repaid him by forgetting about him.
They'd forgotten him, and why not? They had new, young, arrogent soldiers to protect them. Soldiers that knew nothing of real war! They hid behind huge, fancy mobile suits, nothing like the old hunks of junk he'd piloted. The wars he'd fought had real danger. This war had nothing. Yes, it was great that less were dying, but new technology left room for mistakes. And that allowance led to less skill, attacks being sloppy and the war going on for too long.
'Do you need help, Mr Jule?' He shook his head. He'd walked harder roads than this. He'd been a real soldier. The best of the best, second only to one person. Oh yeah, that one person had been the better pilot, the better stratagist, but had also been the one to nearly die. And that person happened to be standing right in front of him.
'Ah, Mr Zala. Are you alright? Do you need any help?' Athrun bowed his head and smiled. 'No thank you, Miss.' Yzak hastily turned his snigger into a cough. Danmit, that man was too polite! 'If you two are alright, I'll leave you. Have a nice day.' With a smile, the young orderly left.
'So, how are you?' Athrun asked. Yzak flinched, Athrun was too strong for this place. But their people no longer cared. He shrugged, and Athrun chuckled softly. Just to show he understood. 'I know, Yzak. I wish I could show those young bastards how it's really done as well. Pity my body doesn't agree.' With a sigh, Yzak glanced away. Athrun's right leg was missing below the knee.
The breakfast hall was packed. With a sigh, the two men flopped down and began eating slowly. 'Y'know, I've eaten some pretty bad things.' Athrun muttered 'I was in the military for crissake. And that crap they fed us could have pased for engine fuel. But nothing compares to this...this...what would you call this?' Yzak smirked. 'Sure as hell ain't food. That's all I know.'
They ate in silence, that reminder of the old life played across Yzak's mind. Yes, that food had been awful, but he'd gladly eat it again, just for proof his military career had been real. Athrun hadn't changed much, which was a relief. His green eyes still held the old look. That slightly dead, but powerful look. Yzak hoped his own eyes still looked the same way.
'You know, maybe...we could show them how it's done.' he whispered. Athrun looked up in surprise. 'What?' 'Show them how real soldiers fight.' Athrun's eyes twinkled and he smirked. 'What did you have in mind?'
Yzak smiled at his reflection. The white commander's uniform was slightly strained, but it still fitted. To pull this off he'd reluctantly clipped on his prostetic leg. With a careful look round, he ran down the corridor to Athrun's room. The only uniform Athrun had ever worn was that of a red. And even after all these years, the man still looked right in it.
With a small smile they snuck to the back door. Yzak couldn't help but remember Athrun at the academy. The quite young boy with sad eyes, and a knack for being brillant at everything. The night air smelled of blood. A battle had taken place here, years ago. But nothing could ever take away that smell.
'Halt!' They stared at the young man. 'Who're you?' Yzak raised his eyebrows. 'Clearly, we're soldiers. And of a higher rank than you. Some respect, maybe, is due in this situation?' The young man blinked, then blushed and snapped a salute. 'S..Sorry Sir! Won't happen again sir!' 'At ease. Your mistake is forgiven.' Athrun answered. 'Sir, may I ask something?' They both nodded. 'Your uniforms...why are they so old?' Yzak shook his head. 'Do I look like a young man to you?' The man shook his head, blushing again.
Once inside, Yzak cracked his knuckles. 'Honestly, if that's the kind of people they're lettin' into the army now, no wonder it's gone to hell.' Athrun smirked, and nodded.
They found the hanger with ease, and gazed in disgust at the hideous things their army now called mobile suits. The loud wailing brought them out of their thoughts. 'Guess our battle sense isn't useless, eh Jule?' Yzak nodded, and they boarded two mobile suits.
Once on the field, Yzak felt disappointed. The thrill was gone. The young idiots were wasting their time attempting to take out the enemy's mobile suits. Focusing the whole force on one objective was wrong, and potentially fatal. Shaking his head, he contacted Athrun.
'What?' 'Round up some soldiers, someone's gotta take out their ship!' Athrun nodded, and soon Yzak could hear the command back in his voice. A small group of soldiers flew up to them, and followed them towards the ship.
Athrun sighed, all those years of fighting, and these young idiots still had no idea. All his years of experience, and still these young fools had never been taught to take out the source first. His emerald eyes brimmed with tears as he thought of how far his army had gone on it's way to hell.
The bleeping of his communicater brought him out of his thoughts. The confused face of a young soldier appeared on the screen.'Excuse me, sir, but who are you?' Athrun sighed, where do we find them? 'Listen son, I was fighting wars when you were still sucking on your Momma's titty so don't tell me how to fight a battle.' Yzak cut in from the other end of the line. Athrun couldn't help but smile, that was Yzak. Harsh, rude and stubtle as a chainsaw.
With an icey gaze, he stared at the young man. 'Soldier, you're wasting time! If you have any more stupid questions, save them till the battle's over! Now for crissake, focus. And tell me where the accelerator is on these new models!' The young man nodded, pointed to the accelerator and shut the connection. Athrun shook his head and stared at the great, hulking mass of the enemy ship. 'Y'know Yzak, today's a good day to die!' His commrade nodded, the old homocidal smirk back on his lips.
The battle raged on, with no end in sight. Athrun growled. He opened up a link to Yzak. 'You know what we must do. Stay far enough behind so you don't get hit, but follow soon enough so they'll still be distracted. Stay outta my shadow, duck under.' Yzak nodded. 'Until the end, old friend.' He then turned his attention to his troops. 'Right lads, when this is over, you can clean it up. Till then, get the hell outta here!' Caught out by his authority, they nodded.
With a last smile, Athrun accelerated, pausing only to shout: 'And don't you get cocky! You got your job, I got mine! Lets do them well, one last time!' Yzak nodded and prepared to follow. He accelarated only when Athrun's suit had begun to spark. He dodged around him, just as the suit exploded, taking his friend with it. Taking aim for the bridge, he squeezed the trigger. His beam struck home, as did theirs.
As his control panal began to spark, he smiled. Job done, mission complete. Yes, he thought as flames consumed him, today was a good day to die.
Well, what y'all think? I hope y'all enjoyed it and I hope you'll drop a review. Please, I live off reviews.