Episode 13 - Decisions, Decisions [4th]

The last RPG was "Zeta Gundam: Tales from the Frontlines - The AEUG" which ran from 2006-14.
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-Caroline Tucker, Chuikov

((Folken, my last post had Caroline in the pilot's lounge, but we'll just assume she left at some point so as not to conflict with yours... however, she's about to come back in so we can both have a chance at some character development... (Speaking of which, I've been meaning to talk to the mods about turning Caroline into a PC...)))

Caroline, in her usual graceless manner, tumbled into the break room. When she managed to halt the spinning, she noticed another pilot in the room.

"Oh... hi! You're the other new guy, aren't you? Ahhh... your name is... No! Don't tell me! Uhhh... it starts with a V... Vince? Victor? Vaughn? Ah! That's it! It's Vaughn, right?"

She gave him a cheery grin and held out her hand for a handshake.

-Jim MacAlpin, Dervish

Jim shifted restlessly in his bunk. He couldn't sleep. Those had been his countrymen out there that Curren had been fighting. Sure they had been fighting with the enemy, but they were merely confused... and no wonder! The state of the world in UC 0087 would be confusing to anyone! Mere confusion wasn't a crime worth the penalty of death!

He rubbed his head. The whole situation was giving him a headache. He needed something to take his mind off of all of it... and quickly. Without any easily accessible liquor on board (his own secret stock being depleted), that meant only one thing...

He needed a woman.

He dressed quickly and did his best to tame his unruly hair. He brushed his teeth and slipped on a pair of sunglasses for good measure. Finally he looked in the mirror and declared himself fit.

As he emerged from his quarters, a grinning mechanic stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Jim, have ya heard? Rumor is the Chief's got some secret plans to build a Gundam!"

"Carl, I couldn't be any LESS interested. Remember, I'm the resident Zeon on this hall. The Gundam killed my father, for Pete's sake, why in heaven's name would I want to pilot one?!?"

Carl just blinked.

"Besides," Jim continued, "I'm sure it won't have a monoeye. Now get lost! Can't you see I'm trolling here?"

"I hope you're not trolling here, this is a men's barracks..."

"I meant I'm ABOUT to be trolling! Once I get to a place with some women."

"Are you sure you're not just out for som..."

"Shut up, Carl!"

-Captain Dombrowski, Chuikov

Nathan rose solemnly from his seat.

"I will be retiring for a few hours. If the Titan fleet is sighted, or if ANYTHINHG unusual occurs, inform me immediately. That's an order."
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(OOC: Thanks for the limbo lift, Ascension. I owe you one.)

"It's Vantz, but you came closer than most," Vantz said. He shook Caroline's hand and replied, "You're the one who's always bumping into people, Caroline right?"

In his head, Vantz wondered if Caroline might be able to help him with his current case of cockpit phobia. Nervously, he asked, "Caroline, could you help me with something? I'm having a problem concerning my Nemo."
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-Caroline Tucker, Chuikov

"Aww... Sorry I got your name wrong... I have a bad memory sometimes... but I'll try extra-hard this time, Vantz! Anyway, what's your problem? I'm not exactly a mechanic... but I did take a couple of maintenance courses before I signed up... It was my mom's idea. She thought if I was going to be piloting a mobile suit, I ought to know how one works... Oh! There I go again, babbling on... not giving you a chance to respond... How rude of me! I'll shut up now."

Caroline tightly pressed her lips together and watched Vantz's face intently, waiting for his reply. She really wanted to do whatever she could to help him. It always made her sad to see anyone else sad.
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"Well, ever since the battle, I can't make myself pilot a mobile suit. Even thinking about it makes me sick. If I can't fly, I'm dead weight. They'll drop me like a hot potatoe, or just push me out the airlock. I was wondering if one of the other pilots might be able to help me. So, you have any ideas as to how I could make myself fly again?"
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-Caroline Tucker, Chuikov

"Ummm..." Caroline was completely taken off guard by the nature of Vantz's problem. "Ahh... let's see..."

Suddenly an idea hit her like a door frame to the noggin.

"Oh! That's it! Just think about what made you want to become a pilot in the first place! It worked once, it just might work again..."

She closed her eyes in deep thought for a moment before adding, "But hey, if it doesn't, remember that the AEUG is short on manpower, so they'd probably be able to train you to be a mechanic or a cook or something! They sure wouldn't kill a volunteer! You'd look kinda cute in overalls or an apron or somethin'..."

She blushed beet red and chuckled nervously.

"But forget about all that! I'm sure it'll work like a charm! Just focus on your original motivation for signing up!"
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Vantz raised an eyebrow at Caroline. "Alright, let's see...I joined because I was sick of the Titans and my dad..." Vantz thought back to the conversations he'd had with his dad shortly before joining the AEUG. He clenched his fists and said, "I hate those stupid, supremist Titans bastards! Why, if one was here right now, I'd...I'd..."

Vantz calmed down and smiled at Caroline. "Wow, that did help. I just have to think of how much I hate those Titans and I'm good to go! You should give people advice or something."
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Caroline laughed and blushed a little again.

"Aww, I didn't really do anything! The motivation was inside you the whole time, you just... forgot about it for a while. My mom always says that the key to your happiness is always inside of you! If you hadn't really wanted to pilot again, nobody would have been able to help you, definitely not a klutz like me!"
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- Salamis Kai-class Gela -
- Sick Bay -


"A Gundam....?" Darren thought, absently crossing his arms across his chest. He had piloted various GMs before, and was trained to pilot a Nemo, but the young engineer had never technically even seen a Gundam. The closest he had come to one were training simulations and propaganda from the One Year War cleanup. "Just how good is Chief Polk?"

"That's amazing...I didn't think the 4th had the kind of resources to build a Gundam..." Darren said awingly, claiming a spot on the nearby wall to lean against.
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- The Dervish -
- Hangar -

Wes chuckled at first and thought about something for a moment before responding, "You're right. I've had much better luck back in school. But after graduating, I enlisted and was shuffled into a world where the women are usually tough-as-nails so that they can prove themselves capable of fighting a war. When they broke down, though, I couldn’t do anything. I never did anything, since my CO would handle that so we didn’t have to deal with them personally. I guess you can blame that fact as to why I'm uncomfortable when talking to regular girls... But I guess all I can say really is that it's not bad if you're fragile, and it's not good to repress your thoughts or feelings."

Michiko silently nodded again. “...it’s not good to repress your thoughts or feelings,”. While Wes’ mind quickly strayed back to the last war, Michiko’s thoughts drifted to her home colony. Her smile faded and she hugged her crossed arms against herself. What could the Titans have done with it? Where did they put all the people? What would have happened if she were still there with the Federation? After her last disruptive outburst, she had promised herself she wouldn’t make a spectacle of her feelings again. She squeezed her eyes shut. It would be weird if she got too emotional around the new guy, right?

- Observation Deck -

Fritz noticed Celeine maintained her death grip on Celeste as she tried to keep a positive tone about the situation, "If he seemed like he would listen, then maybe next time you will get him,". She added a sincere, "Thank you, Fritz,". Fritz’ eyes drifted to the deck as he turned for the hallway. “Yeah,” he muttered. He didn’t sound like he was convinced.

- Hangar -

As Fritz came back to the hangar, he made a beeline for the ready room. The combination of a hot, damp normal suit and everything he had on his mind was starting to get frustrating. He passed behind Wes and Michiko, and Michiko gave Wes a sudden wave goodbye and pushed off after Fritz. “Fritz... sir. What went on out there?” she asked as she closed in. Fritz frowned as he entered the ready room and opened his locker. Michiko sighed and turned around in the doorway to give Fritz privacy. “I’m not naked, lieutenant,” Fritz grumbled as he pulled on his boots.

“I know...” Michiko replied, “...What happened with that striped Hizack, sir?” she said, pressing the issue. The way Fritz had looked after he landed wasn’t encouraging. As Fritz closed his locker, he cursed silently; there wasn’t an easy way out of explaining everything. “Shut the door,” he said as he sat on the lone bench in the back of the room. Michiko turned around, her look a bit apprehensive. “Do you want to know what’s going on or not?” Fritz asked, brushing his sleeves down. Inside his head old warning bells were going off. This was precisely what he had been taught not to do for years. “It’s what Liese wants. Can’t keep hiding everything.”

He noticed the envelope he had tucked into his jacket’s inner pocket. His wife had handed it to him and whispered in his ear, “Save it for a bad time. When you need something to lift your spirits,” before she had to leave the ship in Von Braun. “A bad time,” Fritz muttered under his breath as he rubbed his temple

- The Gela -
- Sick Bay -

"Captain, did we hear you right, or are am I going deaf from all of Richard's incessant whining? Polk on the Dervish is going to build us a Gundam class? You're kidding right? I mean..." .

Von Gyuden laughed out loud at Norman’s earnest tone. “Not to insult Chief Polk, but I was exaggerating to be sure. It was complimentary hyperbole, nothing more. If I were you gentlemen,” he said, gesturing to the pilots, “I’d be thrilled to get a working mobile suit back at all,”. Wearing a lopsided smile he walked out of sick bay to get back to the bridge.

- Hangar -

Sager floated, upside down, past the Dervish’s launch watching the bulk of his old crew secure the ex-Nemo. “Not bad. Not bad,” he said as he looked over the torso. Of course, once he was content, something had to go and catch his eye. He gritted his teeth as a hanging part stuck out like a sore thumb. “Hey! Does that look secure to you? That thing shouldn’t be loose like that!” he called out to the work crew, pointing at one of the Nemo’s chest vents. “Eh, it shouldn’t hurt anything,” one of the newer guys shrugged. One of the older crew whistled and quickly moved out of the way.

“What?! When I float my ass back over to the Dervish and can’t correct a spin because you thought a huge-ass vent hanging open wouldn’t hurt anything, I’m going to bail and boost back over here to kick your dumb ass! Now FIX THAT VENT OR I’LL HAVE YOU BENT!” Sager berated the tech. The older of the two floated back over to his partner and remarked quietly, “You’re lucky he didn’t throw anything,”. The older mechanic smiled and answered back, “Chief, once the vent is cool you’re clear to go!”.

- The Dervish -
- Main Ready Room -

“You what?” Michiko asked, incredulous. Fritz whispered a colorful phrase and repeated, “I lied to the captain so we would pursue Echo. And I did it for selfish reasons. But I do think they might know something about your colony, Michiko. They were the ones that made trouble for us there in the first place,”. Michiko shook her head and said, “That’s crazy. You want to kill Ritter so bad you lied to Captain Abbey? That’s not like you...”. Fritz chuckled derisively and stood up. “No, it isn’t. I regret it already, but Gates wanted us to chase the enemy too. There’s no way we’re turning around now.”

~ A Few Minutes Later ~
- Fritz’ Quarters -

Fritz collapsed onto his bed, but his mind kept him from going to sleep like it often did. He forced his thoughts to quiet down, and went about deciding if this was a bad enough time to open the envelope. “No... if this is bad, then I don’t want to think about catching up to Echo...” He took the envelope out of his jacket and laid it on his desk. He would open it when things were at their worst.
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Norman's confused look, and the now quirked brow of Barrique resulted in a hearty laugh from the Gela's Captain.

“Not to insult Chief Polk, but I was exaggerating to be sure. It was complimentary hyperbole, nothing more. If I were you gentlemen,” he said, gesturing to the pilots, “I’d be thrilled to get a working mobile suit back at all,”.

With a smile, Von Guyden made his exit from the infirmary, kicking toward the door, and off to the bridge.

Richard face twisted into a half smirk/half smile as he shut his eyes and laid back in the bed.

"Well, Norm. It looks like...*cough*

Richard sat back up, the bruising on his chest becoming agitated while he lay there. To rectify this, he shot back up, and straightened himself out before continuing on. Norman could barely contain a chuckle.

"Well, I meant to say.. It looks like you've..got nothing to be jealous about..Norman."

Norman could only roll his eyes and cross his arms before giving a playful punch to Richard's shoulder.

"That may be so, oh Jedi Master Ricky..but when I took off I was but the learner, but now with your sorry ass in bed, I am now the master."

Richard's response was a blank stare, the reference going right over his head..

Norman sulked slightly, waving a hand at Richard as he kicked out of the room.

"Forget it, Rich. It's an old 20th century movie quote.. you wouldn't get it.."

- Hangar -

"..Now FIX THAT VENT OR I’LL HAVE YOU BENT!”

Sager erupted at the rookie tech, the older tech that had made a whistle earlier sucked on his teeth as a small vein popped on the forehead of the former Chief of MS maintenance. The older tech floated back over to his partner and remarked quietly, “You’re lucky he didn’t throw anything,”. With a smile, the tech called back back to Polk, “Chief, once the vent is cool you’re clear to go!”.

As the older tech pushed the now irate novice tech over to the wrecked hulk of what once was a Nemo, a CPO Myron Mullon kicked up next to his former superior officer. You see, when Polk left for the Dervish, he left his most trusted grease monkey in charge.

That was the fat old fart, Mullon himself. For a guy of about 51, he could still scoot around zero-gee like the younger guys. With a nod, Mullon halted himself on a now secured bent piece of armor.

'Well, Sajer.. looks like you still give a s**t about us here on the old tin-can Sally. That vent had to be pulled open anyway, to pull Lt. Barrique out of that thing. We were supposed to bend it back, but I guess getting those other Nemo's back into shape took more of my attention away from that hulk.

Besides, we didn't know you were going to jack her from us until 20 minutes ago. That vent was the least of our worries at the time."

Another of the younger technicians floated up to the two senior mechanics and gave a status report, and not a moment too soon.

"Sirs, we had to tack-weld the vent shut because it wasn't staying "bent" enough for MCPO Polk. Chief Mullon, is there anything else that Mr Polk needs before he hits the road for the Dervish?"

Mullon only turned to face Polk, a nod going toward the tech indicating that it was Polk's turn to "Discipline" the youngins..
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- The Gela -
- Sick Bay -


This place again...

As the door opens Bernard has gathered enough courage to step in. The infirmary is not a place anyone wants to visit especially a pilot. Too tired to realize that anyone other than Lt. Barrique is in the room, he does a quick salute as he approaches Barrique and pulls over a over-bed lap top table.
"I know from past experience one can get stir crazy after awhile in a place like this so I brought you this." On the table Bernard places an old worn book titled All Quiet on the Western Front. "It's about an old Earth war. I found it in a town we took-" Bernard abruptly stops, catching himself.

Best not drudge up the past..

"Oh, this arrived for you from the New Yark. A Ltjg. Heyden sends his regards." The item is placed on the table as well. Bernard, uncomfortable at this point starts to back away.

"Just came to see how you're doing. Unless you need anything else I'll be on my way. I think the Doc is on his way in with a suppository so I'll just leave the two of you."

yeah, low blow but couldn't resist.
"War is some crazy sh**" - alexander the great
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- Salamis Kai-class Chuikov -
- Jonas Anderson's Quarters -


Jonas sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he filled reports. He still hadn't made any meaningful assessment of his subordinates' state since the sortie, and kicked himself mentally for letting the paperwork come first. The reports could wait.

With a sigh, Jonas pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his uniform tunic from where it hung above his bed on a temporary basis. Zipping it up as he stepped out, Jonas couldn't help but notice it fit a little - almost imperceptibly - more loosely than when he'd first worn it. A rebel paramilitary guerrilla army was bound to suffer chronic shortages of certain supplies, after all. Jonas' diet since joining wasn't quite as ample as the one he'd enjoyed as a civilian. He wasn't malnourished by any means; his body simply hadn't yet fully adjusted to a military diet.

He asked a passing junior officer if he'd seen where the other pilots were, and learned at least one was in the break room.

- Break Room -

When the break room door was open, Jonas leaned in with his hands gripping the door frame; he was suspended above the floor, his body tilted so the upper half of his body was mostly inside the break room while his legs were extended behind him into the corridor. Apparently there were two pilots present, not just one: both rookies, in fact. They seemed to had just reached a conversational plateau.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything, kids," he intoned as a means of announcing his presence.
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- The Dervish -
- Mess Hall -

Eckardy push his nearly clean try away and leaned back in his chair. "Food is good." He grunted. Across from them at the table, Cowboy and Ian were still eating their food.

Roy, seated next to Eckardy, nodded. "This stuff is better than what I used to get on Earth." Eddie and Ian both nodded, the latter spoke.

"It's better than what the Republic was feeding us when I went back." He said between chews before taking a sip of coffee. "I guess that's Anaheim for ya."

Eddie shook his head. "That's an Irish class with gravity for ya. Those guys on the Sallys don't get cake or some of the goodies we do. It's the price of being a bigger target." He said sat up straight again and grabbed his cup full of cherry cola and drained what was left in it.

For his part, Marvin just chewed on what was left of his hamburger without saying a word. The Dervish had been his only real combat station and he couldn't compare it to anything else like the other three men could. Still, the young man wanted to say something, and so he said the first thing that came to his head. "How do you guys like those Rick Dias?"

Eddie gave a half grin and a snort. "Haven't we covered this before?"

"I don't remember." The youngest confessed.

The team leader waved it off. "It's okay Cowboy, it's okay. It's a fine suit."

Ian nodded. "It's better than anything else I flew in space, which ain't much. It's way better than anything the Republic gave me to play with, and it's worlds better than those GM II's the Anaheim guys trained us on, right Roy?"

"Oh yeah." He agreed. "Compared to the IIC that I had in my brief stint in space or whatever else I used. Hell, even compared to what those Titan's use, it seems great. My only complaint is the cockpit is..."

"Exposed?" The other three all said at the same time, followed by a pause as they exchanged glances.

Grunwald grinned. "Yeah. I guess I'm just too used to bein' in a torso, ya know?"

Eddie smirked. "Hey, I went from a f***in' tank to an MS. That was a change, man. At least in this case, the controls are still pretty much the same."

Grunwald patted his team leader on the shoulder. "Ah, ya crazy EF Army tankers." He stood up and picked up his tray. "Well, I got some letters to write to the girls. I'll see you guys later." He said as he started off.

The other three members of Team 2 didn't hang around long. Within a a few minutes, they'd all left. In Ian's case, to get some sleep. For Marvin, it was to hit the MS simulators. And for Eddie, it was to go listen to some music and diegest.
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Caroline turned quickly... well, as quickly as she could without sending herself floating around uncontrollably, which wasn't really all that quick... at the sound of Lt. Anderson's voice.

"Oh, hi, Lieutenant... sir!" she stammered, somewhat surprised by his sudden appearance.

She paused for a moment to order her thoughts before continuing, "You aren't interrupting anything, sir, come right on in! We were just talking about... y'know... things... Uhh... so... anyway, what brings you here... now?"
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--The Dervish--
--Hangar--

After Michiko went silent, Wes didnt mind her much and drifted off into a daydream of sorts. He noticed her leave, but made no specific response to it. He was more consumed within his old memories, his adventures, and also his old thoughts. This talk have done more than bring back past experiences, but it brought back alot of hateful thoughts from the past as well. All of this talk about releasing suppressed emotions had somehow refueled some old rage.

"Zeon..." Curren muttered to himself as he put more thought into things. He used to hate them. In a sense he still does, but much less than back then. Their blind ideals and "fight for independence" was pointless in his eyes, yet he found that his hatred for the Titans to be much greater. His hatred for both combined would be enormous...

The guys he had fought... the trio of Rick Doms. Those were Zeon most definately, but allied with the Titans no less. The sheer irony of that made Wes slightly suspicious. He knew all along that the Republic of Zeon was pretty much the Federation's b****, but it was strange to find the two things Curren hated most fighting together, side-by-side.

"I'll destroy them both then..." Curren thought with bloodlust, then shook his head a bit and cleared himself of that thought. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. The old, angry side was returning... the one he had suppressed back in 0082 when he was injured.
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It had been a boring couple of hours since he woke up. For the most part, he sat in bed, or moreso laid there. Staring at the blank ceiling gave him some semblence of activity, as he counted the small holes in the metal screen that was attached as a ceiling panel above his bed.

His concentration on the..fun, was broken by the woosh of air that signaled that the door to the infirmary had opened. Finding that a visitor was better than counting holes in a screen, he turned to look who had entered...only to see Bernard, with a package of sorts.

With a glide through the room that could only come from a spacenoid, he "sauntered" over to the table near his bed.

"I know from past experience one can get stir crazy after awhile in a place like this so I brought you this."

On the table Bernard places an old worn book titled All Quiet on the Western Front.

"It's about an old Earth war. I found it in a town we took-" Bernard abruptly stops after the comment, looking around, half sheepishly, half sorrowful.

The look soon faded, and Bernard continued.

"Oh, this arrived for you from the New Yark. A Ltjg. Heyden sends his regards."

Bernard sets what looks like a shoebox wrapped in newsprint onto the table as well, before floating back toward the door.

"Just came to see how you're doing. Unless you need anything else I'll be on my way. I think the Doc is on his way in with a suppository so I'll just leave the two of you."

Richard, paused momentarily, but then held out a hand waving the ensign back into the room.

"Bernard, Ya don't need to... leave in such a hurry. Besides ... I have a few questions about you..and Neuen Bitter."

Richard sat up a bit more, straightening himself out before continuing.

"How was the fighting in your part of Africa?"
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- The Gela -
- Sick Bay -


"..and Neuen Bitter."

Bernard freezes at the sound of that name. A name he never expected to hear in his life again. Bernard gives a dead stare toward Barrique.

Richard sat up a bit more, straightening himself out before continuing.
"How was the fighting in your part of Africa?"

Bernard hesitates at first before pulling a chair. As he sits, Bernard takes in a deep breath. A slight pain in the neck hits him. The questions bring about a feeling of dread. As these questions were similar to those asked of him when he was a prisoner, right before the torture began.

Bernard fully understood that the Lieutenant was curious about the men fighting alongside him, especially those that have fought before. But some things even spoken words can bring about horrid images that he is desperately trying to erase.

Africa...

"Well sir, as you know during the War it was a hotbed of activity but when I arrived there late in the war our forces were busy falling back and finally splitting up into smaller units. Not that I could have done much then in the state I was in. I was medevac there with the hopes of eventually returning to continue the fight in space." Bernard relaxes a bit, he sinks down on the chair.

" I wound up in the East..Tanzania..involved in a few hit and runs, but after that first year it was real tough. No hope..years..some men would walk towards the Serengeti and never return. I would like to believe they started new lives and raised new families in some village but.." Bernard stares at nothingness. "Bitter cared for his men. Still believing in the cause ..till the end, long after most of us just gave up. But he kept us together. By the book as if we were still regular troops instead of the guerrillas we actually had become.."

Bernard snaps out of his haze and looks around. " I'm surprised nobody brought you any flowers."
"War is some crazy sh**" - alexander the great
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"Well sir, as you know during the War it was a hotbed of activity but when I arrived there late in the war our forces were busy falling back and finally splitting up into smaller units. Not that I could have done much then in the state I was in. I was medevac there with the hopes of eventually returning to continue the fight in space."

" I wound up in the East..Tanzania..involved in a few hit and runs, but after that first year it was real tough. No hope..years..some men would walk towards the Serengeti and never return. I would like to believe they started new lives and raised new families in some village but.. Bitter cared for his men. Still believing in the cause ..till the end, long after most of us just gave up. But he kept us together. By the book as if we were still regular troops instead of the guerrillas we actually had become.."

Richard simply sat there, half stunned by the fact that Bernard would open up like he did. He had read his file, read about the abuses, the shame, hurt, torture that the Federals had put him through. Richard began to let his festering Zabi/Zeon hatred subside, for once...for once..

He actually had asked about Bitter so that he could get a segway into discussing the man with Bernard, instead of going on an irate tantrum about how foolish the "Afrika Corps" had been for all those years.

But, the sincerity and actual meekness that Bernard had as he discussed the topic, was effecting Richard like never before. He wasn't sure if it was the bump to the head, or the smash to the chest..but just talking about Zeon and the war was leaving him overcome with some sort of emotion..or was it an emotion? Who knew. What ever it was, it was begining to tear at the very fiber of his Zeon hatred.

Maybe talking about the war instead of brooding over it was actually doing some good..

Then again, who knew.

He was suddenly snapped out of his daze by a comment from Bernard..

"I'm surprised nobody brought you any flowers."

"Eh?"

Richard quirked a brow as he looked up from his bedsheets.

"Well, We're all the new guys here, Bernard.. Some people are less trusting, or sentimental about people as others. That, and this is a military ship, with no flower shop. I really don't mind it."

He paused, shifting slightly in bed. The pain medication being fed through an IV pump was working wonders. The heaviness in his chest was subsiding, though his breathing was still a tad heavy.. At least he didn't pause after every sentence to catch his breath..

"The reason I asked about Bitter, was originally that I was going to bring up the reason as to why you guys still held onto Zeon's Ideals after the war was over. But, I dunno if it'll ever be right because of those marks on your neck."

He nodded, indicating that he knew a bit about the internment.

"The federals that harmed you, were only one of several sects of Federals that made up that entire group. I for one, ran into a group that were rather friendly, though they did use their force to get to the point that our presence on the planet was past its prime, that we had lost the war. I was going to argue in favor of the Federation..

"I was going to complain about Bitters actions during those post war years, but now, something has changed.. For some reason, talking about this seems to be a better answer than fighting.

Just this little bit, has effected something that had been going on with me for a while. I dunno how much this means to you, but actually seeing a Zeon face again, one that wasn't twisted by the Zabi's late war ramblings..helps bring me closure. I hope that you can forgive me for even contemplating such a conversation on the subject.."
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Jonas' jaw twitched imperceptibly at Caroline's response. There was something about the girl that brought out all manner of worry to Jonas' mind. It wasn't just that her overall demeanor made him worry that she might not be cut out for warfare. Oh no, it was something deeper than that, more... selfish than that.

The girl reminds you too much of her, doesn't she?

Without missing a beat, Jonas entered the break room fully and allowed the door to slide shut behind him. "I'm here to talk about the last sortie. It was the first time in a real combat situation for both of you, and I want to see how you're holding up."
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"I hope that you can forgive me for even contemplating such a conversation on the subject.."

Bernard feels at ease that he can confide in Richard. It's the first time he's been able to reveal that much and maybe some more..

"Don't think nothing of it. I've seen anger take over many a man's soul. I'm glad I'm of some help." Bernard also seem to have benefited from the talk.

"I understand your position. Trust is not always acquired easily. So I'll be an open book ..this once. Now, I don't like speaking about such stuff..it's not so easy to erase the images but near impossible to avoid the feelings attached. As for why I joined.." Bernard hesitates to talk about his past. It's a subject best avoided by him. Swallowing his shame he begins.

"You must understand how easy it is to mold the ideals of the youth. With talk of true independence through out Side 3 and speeches about freedom filling every street corner, the call to arms was so over whelming that I joined the military without hesitation. I was a stupid 19 year old. You see for years we've been told that the Federation was encroaching on Side 3." With a look of anger Bernard balls up his fists.

"I believed everything they fed me. When hostilities began, it got ugly really fast. Our fight for Independence was twisted into some mad grasp for total domination..But even if we don't always approve of what we have to do, we must carry out orders for sake of country, our comrades, and more importantly our families." Bernard's shame returns forcing him to look down. "So I turned a blind eye to the atrocities committed for a quick end..so that my younger brothers wouldn't be drawn into that nightmare." Bernard folds his arms in tight. This is new territory for him, discussing the past but since Barrique also served there is hope someone might understand.

"Why we held on for so long? Call it pride or a day dream that Zeon might return..just to cling to something. My fight on Earth after Odessa was merely for survival. I stayed on in hopes of returning into space and going home. We did have an operational HLV. But after so long would I still be recognized? Would they be the same..if they're alive." Bernard shakes his head. " The way I remember them is the way I'd like to keep it, at least for now."

But in '83 old ideals came back and again I got swept up. Why?

"As for Bitter's actions post-war, I can't comment on. Either he was following orders or was as desperate as the rest of us I don't know. I won't talk ill of the dead." Bernard blinks as if realizing something.

"You know, I think the Doc would call this a therapeutic exercise. But I think you still need rest. If you're tired we could continue this at another time.."

..I doubt we will continue our confession later on. As much as this has help Barrique, it still bothers me ..
"War is some crazy sh**" - alexander the great
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