wreckwrites: (roses for the dead)
[personal profile] wreckwrites
title: this isn't what we meant (re-edit)
character: unknown OZ solider
summary: unknown pov. why does a nameless solider fight?
notes: starts pre-series, vague spoilers, edited for [livejournal.com profile] ficalbum.
song: "this isn't what we meant" by savatage, dead winter dead




I was 7 when Heero Yuy was assassinated. I don't remember it very well, except for the fact that all of my favorite television programs were cancelled for emergency broadcasting. It was later in life that I learned that the ones who can make change are always the first to be killed off.

To some, Heero Yuy's death was a blessing. Those were the ones who wanted ultimate control over our home, the colonies. But growing up in a world ruled by chaos, unable to communicate with other colonies, others in the same situation, was not the way I envisioned my life. The storybooks never tell of war torn cities and soldiers in the streets. There were no angels or gnomes to play with or to protect me. Real life is nothing like that of fiction.

Soon after the assassination, The United Earth Sphere Alliance sent specialized soldiers to the colonies to put down any unrest. Martial law ruled and people were afraid to come out of their homes. Even to an 8-year-old child, the so-called "mobile suits" were not fascinating. Playing with GI Joe dolls had become a thing of the past, and no one wanted to have anything to do with war or the military.

However, we all had one shinning hope, and that was the Sanc Kingdom. We told stories and legends about it, as if it were something that only existed in our own realm of imagination. To my generation King Peacecraft was our Heero Yuy, our own symbol of peace.

And just like Heero Yuy, our dreams – the Peacecraft dream – crumbled and shattered into a million shards of glass. But this time I remember everything. Seven years had passed and it had gone full circle. Our last chance for peace no longer existed and we all fell into a collective feeling of despair.

I was 16 when I left home and stole away to Earth. I figured that if I could get some kind of job and start a life on Earth I would be okay. I would be able to send for my family when things settled down, and hopefully they would still be ok.

I did not anticipate Earth to be as it was. The social hierarchy there was worse than that of the colonies. Either you were a solider, a student, or a citizen – the latter was not looked highly upon as far as I could tell. They say the grass is always greener on the other side . . . Earth, if it was possible, was in worse shape than the colonies.

I was still young however, and lost in the illusion that things would get better in time. Everyone wanted change, yet no one could do much about it. The joy of people's lives was replaced with fear, cynicism, and the downward spiral of chaos was increasing.

I was 25 when Treize Khushrenada came to power. His elite soldiers seemed to hold the key to the future and for some reason I felt compelled to join. I hated the Alliance for what they had done; yet I truly believed that I could make a difference somehow. So I joined, and for once in my life I felt control over what was happening around me. I was no longer a meaningless pawn that was thrown out at the beginning of the game. I had a reason to live.

When I graduated and received my own mobile suit I had my doubts. Was I to become exactly what it was that I never wanted to be? Was this the right thing for me to do? I was no longer sure if the path I was about to embark on was the right one. And in the end, I decided it was right for the moment.

I had been serving in OZ for two years before the first signs of a counter attack began to take place. From space, the colonies, my home, came the five Gundams that brought about more change that anyone had anticipated.

Naturally, The Specials were the first ordered to fight these rebels. I went into battle that day not knowing what would come of anything. I was a kid again watching the Alliance take over my home, and I was petrified. Was I supposed to fight against them? Was I supposed to fight against the colonies? I was ordered to do so, but could I live with myself if I did?

So, I stood at the edge of the battlefield watching everything. I watched as my fellow soldiers fell and as the devastation consumed the surrounding area. I could hear every scream of my comrades and hear each gun fire. I could feel every blow and every curse that was executed. I watched as the Gundams pulled out of the fight with only a few of the OZ suits left standing and the entire base destroyed.

After the battle I left OZ. I could not stand to fight against the people that I joined OZ to protect. Why does a nameless solider fight? Those who died, what were they fighting for? I could not understand. I was fighting for a reason to live and fighting to protect my home. Maybe I was no different than those who I was forced to fight. Maybe there are no answers to these questions.

In twenty-four hours my life had again changed drastically. The colonies were fighting back for once, and there was a small shimmer of hope inside of me again. The Earth was struggling against the Gundams and I no longer felt the need to stay. Something was finally going right in my life. Something that I struggled with for 10 years was finally coming to and end.

Even though the Earth would come out less than perfect, I didn't care. I was going home and that's all that mattered to me. OZ, The Alliance, they no longer had control over me.

I stepped off the shuttle to find my home in ruins. I had no idea if my family was still alive, and if they were, would they still be there. With the retaliation of the Gundams, OZ had tightened their control over the colonies and from what I could tell the colonies were beginning to accept them.

I felt like screaming. I saw what had happened on Earth. I had battled and I had seen my own men fall at the hands of those I should have been fighting with from the start. And even now, those who had sent them forth into the world were rejecting the Gundams. And like all that had come before, my hope faded like the setting sun. After coming home to nothing and leaving nothing, there was nothing left to look forward to.

My whole life, I wanted change. My whole life has been spent living in fear of the future, yet with some, small, faint sight of hope there as well. My whole life I worked to make things better where I could and I ended up not doing a damn thing.

Everyone wants something different in the life. For us, for the people of space, all we wanted was a little freedom. We didn't think about what this freedom would cost, and we expected it come easily. If I have learned one thing after everything I have been through, it’s that freedom, like everything else in life, has to be achieved.

I was the first to point out when there was something wrong and the last to do anything to help right it. I sat about and happily diagnosed the problem while I offered no solution. And now, I watch the chaos that has become my home and my life and I wonder if this is worth our freedom.

Because when the people of space prayed for change, this isn't what we meant.

* * *

We dared to ask for more
But that was long before the nights began to burn
You would have thought we'd learned
You can't make promises all based upon tomorrow
Happiness, security are words we only borrowed

For is this the answer to our prayers, is this was God has sent?
Please understand this isn't what we meant

The future couldn't last, we nailed it to the past
With every word a trap that no one can take
Back from all the architects who find their towers leaning
And every prayer we pray at night has somehow lost its meaning

For is this the answer to our prayers, is this was God has sent?
Please understand this isn't what we meant

A long time ago when the world was pretty
Standing right here in a different city
They're not coming back any more
They're not coming back any...

Is this the answer to our prayers, is this was God has sent?
Please understand this isn't what we meant
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