Darwin Delantri
serpentarius84@hotmail.com
Well you took me home
And you took me back
All around, the great cathedral of war shone proudly. It burned with power like
a coal in the night, the final headstone of conflict in our age. In the name of
peace and of the people of the colonies, it terrified Earth and space alike, no
matter whose side it was on.
And, at the centre of all this absurd power, at the hub of the human galaxy,
was a single man, Millardo Peacecraft.
It is said that when you have power over something, you must take responsibility
for it. When a man has power over every soul on the face of that cloudy sphere
below, the responsibility would make even the most solid, well crafted
foundations begin to crack under the strain.
But deep down inside,
The feeling just died,
And I couldn't see why.
Caines, smirking slightly, approached the distraught commander and began to
sharply declare something about mobile doll reports. Treize had done a good job
in their years of friendship; Millardo still looked down on the dolls as an
anomaly, as a warped attempt to vilify the pure essence of survival. Whereas
Caines could feel that the dolls would keep valuable lives out of harm's way, he
had to justify his using the damn objects by putting Dorothy in charge of them,
making them an extension of her.
Caines was always tireless about the White Fang's ideals and chances. It's
strange how well a man works when he knows that he's really just working for
himself.
After he had finished his droning report, Millardo rose majestically, his
stringy blond hair separating in the absence of gravity's dictatorship. "Take
care of it." He ordered coldly, and turned away from the old man's jilted
affirmation.
From indigo through to royal blue
I travel far but no one will do
Anytime, anyplace, every shape, every face,
Brings memories of you.
Every window he passed on his way back to back to his sanctuary made the
feeling worse. They met partly because of her love for the serenity of space,
which was now the gaping void that kept them apart.
"No, space is not what separates us, Noin." He whispered aloud, confessing to
the empty corridor. "Not the walls of this battleship, or the sentry Gundams,
either."
The holes in his mask didn't blind him, he knew how she'd felt for a long time.
However, as long as she was going to sluice her true feelings, he was going to
respect her decision. The world had been a painful place for too long, and as
long as he still fought for peace there would still be a chance for good people
like Noin.
"Peace?" He stopped dead in his tracks. The desire for universal peace was a
part of his life, a part of his name. Who's reasoning was it to create peace
through death, through fire? He didn't quite fell Relena's goal of complete and
utter pacifism, most of his supporting her was merely a brother humouring a
hopelessly romantic sister.
He started walking again, still curious about the fledgling emotion he'd
stumbled across. "Not for peace, right?" He asked of himself, "Not for
Peacecraft, not for Sanc, but for…"
He realized with a start that he'd just walked right part the door to his
quarters. Millardo shook his head as if to dislodge the little feeling, splaying
his locks in the loose air.
Blue to be blue to be blue
Ocean blue
His quarters were left the way to her always preferred things, tidy, organized,
and totally undisturbed. He didn't allow anyone in to clean, dust, or chance the
linens, and the crew knew enough to avoid that door after one young officer
wandered in by mistake.
Millardo put on a little Vivaldi, his favorite. An inviting decanter of coffee
sat on a warming plate, and he poured a heavy splash in a very rare porcelain
mug, then sat himself gracefully in a luxurious armchair that overlooked the
expanse of stars beyond Earth.
Fair-weather friends might drift away
As summer ends, and the skies burn gray
Between here and the confines of Earth's enormity the sudden attention paid to
MO II satellite was barely visible. The foothold of Khrushrenada's crusade, and
his old friend's dream of a World Nation without the violations that were the
mobile dolls. "I wonder if he praises his own purity in combat?" Millardo asked
into the rim of his cup, as the music began to slow and the seasons began to
change.
Even though the friendship he found before was scarce and bumpy, he'd do
anything to spend time with somebody that he really trusted. However, here, on
the Libra, he was surrounded by people that wanted to use him for their own
purposes. Caines was trying fitfully to manipulate him, and the rest of the
White Fang only looked to him as a symbol of power and dominance. Worst of all
was that Catalonia, who coolly questioned every damn thing he did.
At the same time his empty war put up walls between him and the people that
mattered most. Treize was an opponent now, and Noin wasn't about to come around
to his point of view. Although she pledged to follow him, she still had a mind
of her own, and she could still tell from wrong. She tried to be a soldier, but
she was still human first.
A lonely picture, framed in dull pewter, sitting on the end table came to mind.
Resting the mug on a coaster, he took the picture in his hands and held it into
the light of the stars.
He'd taken it years ago, back at Lake Victoria, on the day before she was
stationed there as an instructor. She looked as proud as ever in her Alliance
uniform, not knowing that she was about to shed it for a Specials outfit. It was
the uniform that they had grown into, and parting with it had came as an
underestimated shock for them both.
He admired the deep blue glint of her eyes, and the grace and peacefulness of
her thin smile. Then, as it always did, it hit him. Out of that elegant swath of
midnight hair that draped over her forehead, a miniscule bundle of luscious
threads had fallen out of place.
So I walk to the ocean
And pilot these shores
Just thinking of you
Hesitating, he moved a finger over the photo's single imperfection, as if to
try and push the strand back into place. The thread didn't budge, just as frozen
in that moment as her friendly smile. The calm reassurance he had felt from
seeing the picture melted away at his failure to touch her, and the hot drops
began to well up behind his eyes.
His hands began to quiver, the photograph shaking along with him. "Noin," he
whispered, "I - I'm so sorry."
Millardo snapped his eyes closed to hold back the growing deluge. "I'm choosing
to be a Peacecraft instead of our Zechs Merquise."
It's time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now on in, it's strictly blue sky
Come rain or shine, the outlook's still fine
I'm thinking of you
He forced open his clenched eyes to look at her again. She was still smiling
warmly, not caring whether he let loose the tears that burned his mind. Millardo
set the frame back on the end table, his own gaze never leaving her static one.
"Lucrezia," He whispered again before he began to sob into his ivory gloves.
"I'm so…"
"Lucrezia?" A voice as liquid as his teardrops queried from the shadows. "Mr.
Millardo, are you thinking about Miss Noin again?"
"Get out, Dorothy." Millardo mustered up whatever shreds of dignity he still
held on to in an attempt to make himself threatening.
"I'm surprised at you, Mr. Millardo. So attached to some Euro-trash floozy." The
tears began to dry, feeding instead the boiler in his breast than the lake in
his palms. "If she is going to stand against your cause of peace and sided with
the Gundams,. You are going to have to destroy her."
Her last taunt struck to close to home, and a secret, chained nightmare from
Epyon burst forth. Noin stood between him and Earth, and he felt no remorse as
he saw his own arms raise the beam sabre. He managed to look at her eyes one
last time before anger consumed him completely. They were downcast, not because
she couldn't bear to look at her murderer, but because her own tears were
sprouting there. "Zechs," He heard her call softly, before the drone of the
sabre drowned out whatever else she had to say.
Blue to be blue to be blue
Ocean blue
"What's the use in getting so emotional about an enemy?" Dorothy asked again,
her voice dripping with confidence.
His hand, now quaking from anger rather than sorrow, lashed out, and Millardo
screamed, "Get out, Dorothy!" as he let the half-filled mug fly. It struck the
brutal gray wall not a metre from her, but she was just as stunned as if he had
hit her directly. Paying no mind to the hot splatter of coffee on her cheek, she
panicked and dashed out of the room, her running footsteps echoing down the
corridor.
I stand at the head of the queue
There's mutinies every crew
Wishing and wondering 'bout you
Millardo, still shaken from his grief and outburst, fought himself to relax
again. "Noin, Millardo Peacecraft's time is almost up."
He closed his crystal blue eyes in contemplation, "Soon, we can go back to just
being us again. Please…" He uttered a hopeless prayer that she would hear his
appeals, and began to cry again.
Wishing and wondering 'bout you
Ocean blue
Legal crap that nobody either likes nor reads:
All characters are property of Sunrise, or Sutso, or Bandai. Whatever.
Ocean Blue is property of ABC and Partisan Management. I think.
It's not like launching a lawsuit against me wouldn't be an exercise in
futility, anyway…
