The events portrayed within this tale predate both anime and manga. Most of it comes from things either portrayed or else strongly implied in manga and / or anime.

Note: I do not own Vash "the Stampede," Rem Saverem, or Millions Knives: they all belong to the incomparable Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow.

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Trigun: Shipwrecked

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Chapter 4: Ordinary Humans

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June (or the sixth month) of the 79th year after the Great Fall
On this planet, ordinary humans know it as Star Year 0041

Days, weeks, months, years, and decades have come and gone. This vast, barren planet has gradually become more familiar than the distant memories of that migrating colony ship which was my only home.

The sounds of the winds are familiar now, as is the crunch of the sand under my feet. At times, those sounds are almost comforting. The dust and grit on my face and body are no longer irritants, but instead simply a part of living here.

The heat of the twin suns no longer seems quite as extreme in the summer, though I know it's actually no less. I've simply grown accustomed to it. Winters are still incredibly cold, especially at night when I'm far from the equator.

I have lived here, technically a part of this world, for about eight decades. Yet I am also apart from all of the others here. I am not an ordinary human, nor am I like most of the Plants here. I'm almost both... yet, in truth, I am neither.

I am a Plant who does not dwell in an orb inside a bulb, as nearly all of the others on this world do. Instead, I wander about aimlessly. Even if I choose to dwell among humans, I can never truly be one of them. I will always be a stranger in their midst.

I have no desire to dwell within a bulb as a source of power to an ordinary human town. I doubt it's even possible, but I really don't want to find out. I might get trapped in there.

I have a different duty, which I must fulfill. I may be the only one who can possibly stop my genocidal brother from slaughtering all of the normal humans on this world.

Why am I the only one? Because of Knives' intense hatred for all ordinary humans, he would never listen to one of them. If necessary, unlike them, I can use Plant abilities against him, either similar or identical to what he would wield to harm the defenseless humans.

If necessary, I will sacrifice my own life to protect theirs. I may be worthless, but they are not. Rem sacrificed her life to save them, which makes each of their lives precious to me.

I have failed to persuade Knives to abandon his goal of destroying them. I have failed in everything that I tried. The grief and despair from those many failures has also grown familiar. So has the awareness of my own shortcomings. Knives has described those shortcomings to me, in great detail, every day since the ships fell. It is unlikely that I shall ever forget any item on that lengthy list.

I have failed, repeatedly, to assist Knives toward seeing the wisdom in Rem's teachings about embracing life, love, and peace. If only I weren't such a worthless loser, and such a pathetic idiot, perhaps I could find either words or ideas that would reach my brother. To my sorrow, I have failed to find them.

Knives and I had wandered together, while growing ever farther apart, for about eighty years. Now, those days are gone... just like the days before the Great Fall.

I can still recall my earliest childhood clearly, when I choose to do so. However, those brief, happy days aboard the Seeds ship are now only a distant memory. Memories from those days are beautiful, and I treasure them. Unfortunately, I can no longer speak with Rem. Nor can I find the kindhearted, idealistic brother I once knew.

I have often wondered if Rem might somehow have survived the fall of the ships. Unfortunately, even if she had, then her brief natural lifespan would have been spent - and ended - by now. The harsh conditions on this planet do not make it easy for ordinary humans to live here. I seldom see anyone who's very old.

Rem never mentioned her age, but she must have been at least twenty before Knives sabotaged the ships. That would make her about a century old, even if she survived the fall. Ordinary humans rarely reach that age, even in ideal conditions. This world does not provide ideal conditions.

I do not know Rem's fate. I only know that I never saw her again. Perhaps she died when the ship exploded, as I had originally feared. I don't know. I may never know.

With each day that passes, I miss her and I mourn her. That sorrow has also grown familiar. It has become as much a part of me as the air I breathe or the water I drink.

I have not yet reached physical maturity, though lately my voice has grown unpredictable. Sometimes, it sounds the same as it has for most of my life. Other times, it comes out deeper. Still other times, it creaks, groans, or bounces about as randomly as a ball might do in a canyon full of rocks.

Growing taller has happened so gradually, and over so many decades, that it doesn't make my body feel strange. This business with my voice, however, that sometimes startles me. It only became unpredictable about a month ago. It doesn't behave strangely very often, so it can still surprise me on those occasions when it does make unusual sounds.

My voice, however, is no longer the most significant change in my life.

I look in front of me. I see only emptiness in the place where Knives has been walking ahead of me, for so many years. He is not there now, nor is it likely that he will ever be there again.

Knives... I can no longer take care of him - if I ever could. We are parted, and I fear that parting may be permanent. There's no one to blame for it but myself. I feel the burden, but I don't know how to make it easier to bear.

Being parted from Knives makes me sad. Even though I don't like him very much anymore, I still love him. He's my brother. Nothing, not even the terribly cruel things he says and does now, can ever change that.

I look down at the place where my left arm ends, slightly below my shoulder. I resist the urge to reach over to touch it, and verify, again, that what I see is truly what is real.

Both of those changes occurred during this last week. And, as usual, it's all my fault.

I knew that I shouldn't leave Knives alone. That idea, all by itself, compelled me to stay near him. I wanted to honor Rem's last request.

But I have failed her, again. I was too selfish, and my selfishness has caused a tragedy.

I had wanted only a respite, a brief time to visit humans away from Knives. I wanted to see, for myself, how the people that Rem saved are doing. I wanted to meet them and their descendants up close, instead of only at a distance or only very briefly when bartering or working. I had to keep Knives (and therefore myself) at a distance, to protect all of those ordinary humans from my bitter brother. His hatred toward them appears to be bottomless.

I needed something new that I could say to Knives. Repeating Rem's words from eighty years ago has not helped him to heal. Being silent has not helped him to heal.

And, selfishly, I wanted just one day when I could know - not hope, but know - that I wouldn't be beaten.

I was too weak and selfish. I should never have left him. I was wrong, Rem, and I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry...

Sadly, I cannot reverse what I have done... or what he did in response. All I can do is learn how to live with the consequences. Perhaps I can learn from my mistakes, mend them, and make a better future like Rem used to talk about. I don't know. Maybe I'm not smart enough to do that. Yet I must continue to try.

Giving up accomplishes nothing.

I had steered Knives away from another town last week, to protect the people so that he wouldn't kill them. He beat me for that, as usual. I don't like getting beaten. It seems I always get the worst of it, even when I fight back. Unfortunately, I didn't know of anything else I could do to protect the people. I still don't.

I was lagging farther and farther behind him, reluctant to be near him. The emotions he was radiating suggested another beating would soon come to me. I wasn't looking forward to that, which doubtless made me drag my heels even more than usual. He had reached the top of a sand dune, while I was still a few steps from its base.

A car with ordinary humans in it began to drive past. I don't think the people saw Knives. They offered me a ride... and I, weak fool that I am... I accepted.

That was how the tragedy began.

I was only among them for a short time.

I learned about their town, and the way that ordinary humans in general are organizing themselves on this world. I learned that they began a calendar about forty years after the Great Fall of the ships, and called that year "year one."

Although we've been on this desert planet for about eighty years, the dates suggest considerably less than that from being about forty years off. Surely Knives would have several choice words to say about that, if he knew.

Unfortunately, the human town where I was taken was... a trap. It wasn't long before they had chained me to a pillar near the edge of the town. It all happened so suddenly!

The pillar appeared to be made of some variety of reinforced sandstone, and my right wrist was clasped in a cuff at the end of a chain attached to it. I tried, but failed, to pull the chain free. My wrist was quickly injured from my futile efforts to wriggle loose from the shackle that held me there.

They had given me a pistol, before they returned to their homes. I'd never used anything like that before. It seemed a strange gift. Did they want me to die, or defend the town?

Before I could find out, Knives came and killed everyone.

He formed a blade on his arm, and began cutting them apart. Male or female, young or old, rich or poor... it didn't matter. He killed them all - even the children.

I was horrified. I raised the gun in my left hand, since my right wrist remained chained to the pillar. Knives had killed all the townsfolk, but he didn't set me free.

"Why are you pointing that thing at me," he asked, "after I went out of my way to save you?"

"But the villagers, all of the people you killed," I protested, "there were children! How many people must you kill before you are satisfied? How many?"

"What a thing to say," he said, and laughed. "A village that survives by preying upon passing travelers is bound to meet an end like this. Wasn't exterminating them the right thing to do? It's your own fault for being so naive and falling for their lies."

"That's not what I mean!" I shouted. "That's not it, at all!"

I wasn't trying to condone what they did, or justify it. I simply felt that there had to be a reason. Killing them, especially without knowing why they'd done what they did, seemed at least as bad as anything they had done.

I resolved within myself to learn what Knives hadn't, and understand them, if there remains any possible method of learning. With everyone from the town dead, I feared that all knowledge of their reasons might be lost with their lives.

When I opened my mouth to say something about that subject, though, he spoke first.

"If everyone thought as you do," Knives said, "the humans on this planet would only get more and more uppity. They think nothing of stealing from their own kind. Those who don't stick up for themselves will meet an even worse fate."

He looked away from me. "I've said enough," he said. "I guess this is as good a time as any. I'm going to leave you here to cool your head. And, in the meantime, I will wipe them all from the map!"

He turned and began to walk away.

"Wait!" I shouted. "Knives, wait! I won't let you go off like this!"

I was desperate to stop him, and angry at what he had already done. As usual, my words must have been poorly chosen. He wasn't listening to me. Talking to him wasn't helping. Again.

But I had to do something. I couldn't just sit there and let him go off to kill more people.

So I used the only other tool available to me at the time. I aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger. Then I swore, frustrated that I still couldn't break free of the chain on my right wrist - and that my warning shot had failed to make him slow down or turn.

"Knives, come back!" I shouted. "Stay with me! Knives!"

He only kept walking, without pause. I screamed, but he still continued walking.

I aimed the gun and pulled the trigger again. That time, the bullet struck him in his left shoulder. A shot like that wouldn't kill him. In fact, the injury should heal without even crippling him. However, it would hurt like crazy while it healed.

It hurt me, somewhere deep inside, to harm Knives. I felt I'd had no choice, but it still hurt to do it. I was breathing hard, shaken by what I had done. I regretted it instantly, yet I still dared to hope.

I hoped that the pain of his injury, and the time it would take for his wound to heal, would make him pause and reconsider. I hoped that he might return to me, and reconcile enough to interrupt his plan of hunting and hurting humans. Perhaps, if he returned, I could try again to reason with him - or at least distract him - enough that he wouldn't harm anyone.

I realize now that those were nothing more than vain and foolish hopes. This was yet another failure, in a lengthy and growing list of failures that are entirely my own.

"Vash," Knives said, looking over his injured shoulder at me, "you really should learn to aim better, you incompetent fool!"

His voice had sounded calm when he said my name, but as he continued speaking his words grew louder until he was shouting. His face transitioned from calm arrogance through frustration to fury.

He struck so quickly and unexpectedly that I couldn't dodge effectively, shackled as I was to the pillar. He used his arm-blade to cut off my left arm. My severed arm fell onto the sand beside me, still gripping the pistol.

For a moment, I was too shocked to see, hear, or feel anything. Then the pain registered, and I screamed from the intensity of it.

Knives turned and walked away, without looking back.

Hurting me didn't seem to upset him at all, while I still shook as much from wounding him as from my own injury.

He has changed so much... and it's all my fault. If I hadn't failed him so badly, then surely he would never have become so cold. If only I'd been a better brother to him...

I collapsed onto the sand, with my back turned toward my severed limb. I was screaming and crying from the combined physical and emotional pain. I don't know which hurt worse. Both were terrible.

After a time, during which I may have passed out, a woman came. If I understood her correctly, she was the only person who was related to some of the townsfolk, but who did not live there. She had been told repeatedly not to come near. It was her first visit to that town in three years.

The reason was: radiation poisoning. The people of that place had all been chased out of other cities because they were contaminated.

Because of the nature of this planet, being thrown out of a city and driven into the desert is a death sentence. The people of the city were aware of this, but they believed that their own lives were at risk.

On the day of the accident, this woman happened to be far away. Because of this, she was untouched. She cried as she said that this was the second time she was the only survivor. Though they had been ravaged by despair and bad fortune, the people of that town had always wished her happiness.

"They may have deserved it, because of the evil ways they adopted to survive," she said, still crying, "yet it was such a terrible way to die."

After telling me the tale, she continued crying for hours and hours.

I spent that night thinking hard. I have continued thinking hard ever since, through the days when I buried them and during the days of traveling away from there.

I can't believe what Knives says, that Plants are somehow superior to ordinary humans. Instead, I'll continue believing in Rem and her words.

I shall live as an ordinary human, or as close to that as I can. I won't use Plant abilities at all, unless there is no other method available to save people's lives.

Instead of Plant abilities, I will learn how to use a gun to defend others... and myself. As Knives challenged me to do, I will learn how to aim it better. I will also keep my promise to Rem: I won't kill.

"Shoot a gun, and people die." That is conventional wisdom. But if you don't pick one up, you can't protect yourself against one. I want to hold a gun and never kill anyone. In order to do that, I am prepared to do anything. That is how I will live.

I will devote myself entirely to understanding and protecting ordinary humans, to the best of my ability. I will live and work among them. I won't stay in any one place for very long, and I will keep quiet and spend most of my time alone. Hopefully, that way, they won't have many opportunities to notice how I'm different from them.

And I will speak to them of the things that Rem taught me, especially love and peace.

That way, perhaps I can help all of those people whom Rem sacrificed herself to save. I can help them to thrive. Maybe they, unlike Knives, will hear her words and benefit from them.

I will always be on the watch for Knives. I will do whatever it takes to protect people from him, even if I must pay the same price that Rem paid.

I have little cause to hope that someone as worthless as myself can ever persuade him. However, if I see Knives again... I will try, again, to reason with him. Somehow, he must calm down and think more clearly. He must abandon his plans for genocide.

Slaughtering all ordinary humans won't solve anything. It can't.

Somehow, I must either aid or compel Knives to see this reality. If I can't... I must still find some method to stop him from doing them any more harm.

That is how I will live on.