By: Priscilla Violet Regina
Disclaimer: Once I can say that there is a person in this story that is mine! Sarah Yuy is my creation! But, sadly, her parents and everyone else in this story, are not mine. ~.ó Too bad...you can’t sue me!!!
Chapter 1
"No one who sees a Gundam can be allowed to live. That‘s my duty." -Trowa Barton
"The only way to lead a good life is to act on your emotions," is the one thing I remember my father telling me the most. He always said it, as if he knew I’d have many hard decisions ahead in my life. I never understood why he was the way he was, or what that statement really meant. Until now.
My mother always loved him, no matter what he did, or how difficult he made it for her. I could always see that. Each and every day her love for him grew, right along with mine. People never understood why she chose my father. Some say it was because of their dangerous flirtation in the early days. I discovered it was because she needed some action in her life. After she met him, everything changed. And wherever the chaos was, my father was normally in the middle of it, enjoying every second.
He was quiet man, not speaking unless he really had to. I used to love to sit and watch him, seated on the roof of our hose, gazing at the stars as if remembering some distant dream. I don’t recall any of his friends, but in his study there was a picture on his desk of the five of them, all standing in a row. In the background there were five mobile suits, but different from the ones in my history book. I loved that picture. Mostly because my father looked so young and reckless. He never told me any of the other four’s names, no matter how much I begged. He would just respond with, "Just some old friends," and leave it at that. My favorite had always been the minister. He had a long braid, past his waist, and was dressed like a reverend. He just seemed so happy, so nice...He had a huge smile across his face, from ear to ear, yet he seemed sad. That was why he was my favorite. Because he was such an enigma to figure out. I could tell all this from a photograph.
There weren’t any other pictures of them around house. Just that one. Mother had pictures of her family everywhere, and her high school friends; and in her room there was a picture of her only brother, Miliardo. It always confused me that he wasn’t in any of the family pictures with Mother and their parents, but I put in the back of my mind. He had long, platinum blonde hair, and icy blue eyes that pierced my soul. He was holding some sort of a mask, and dressed like he was in the military. That’s what Mother had told me. She said he had died in the war between the Space Colonies and Earth, and that he was the rank of Colonel at the time.
My parents home schooled me my whole life. They kept me away from most people-secluded, you could call it. They never told me much about what they did in their high school years, or what went on. Not even how they met, which is why I wanted to go to a public school so badly. I needed answers to my many, many questions.
Neither Mother nor Father ever said much about the war. They said they didn’t know a whole lot about it because they were just silly teenagers when it happened, and they didn’t care much about what was going on. When I asked either of them anything about it, Mother would look to Father and raise her eyebrows as if in question. Father would just shake his head and leave the room. But not this time.
"Father, don’t you walk away from me!" I shouted. He paused, back still turned, and I felt he was about to strike me for raising my voice. To my surprise, instead, he faced me with a smile. Just the fact that he listened startled me, but a smile? I had only seen him smile maybe once or twice, and those were only while we were playing video games and he was about to kill me, and even then they weren’t like now. Those were a little more demonic. Now, he seemed proud.
"I have been waiting for years for you to say that, Sarah," he replied.
Confused as I was, I held my ground, just as he had taught me to do. "I want to know. Tell me. What are Gundams?" I repeated, feeling the confidence swelling.
"You really want to know?" he asked while glancing at Mother. I felt as if I was the odd man out on an inside joke, so my anger rose slightly.
Mother just stared back at him, eyes twinkling as a slow smile spread across her face. This time, it was she who nodded and gave the go-ahead. She then rose and left the room. My father’s gaze followed her out the door, then turned back to me.
"Sarah, will you please shut the door?"
"Yes sir," I responded, striding over to close it. I took my place once again in his favorite leather chair, and folded my arms across my chest, awaiting his explanation.
"Well?" I asked after a few moments of silence. All he did was stare, his face an expressionless mask. I remember his monotone well...he barely ever admitted his feelings to be read in any way. Such as now. His Prussian blue eyes burned into through to the back of my head, which cause a slight shudder to run through me. I felt as if he were trying to read my thoughts; I was convinced he could for most of my early years.
"What do you think the Gundams are?" he finally asked, still gazing my way. Reaching over, he grasped his only picture of the past and looked over it, smirking. I was speechless. What did I think the Gundams were? I did not have a clue; I had no idea of even where to begin. Seeing this, he cleared his throat and allowed a quick smile. "Let me rephrase that. Where did you hear of the Gundams? Certainly not from your mother or I...we do not speak of the past. At least, not to that extent. And the history we teach you does not contain any information about them...tell me, where did you hear of them?"
"Well...," How could I say I heard it from his very own lips? "Did you know that you talk in your sleep, Father?" I inquired, hoping he would understand what I was hinting towards.
"So, you’ve been practicing your eavesdropping? You’ve gotten quieter...I used to be able to hear you before you got out of bed. Maybe I’m just getting old..." he trailed off, looking me over with adoration and a whisper of a joke hovering about his personality.
"No, Father, no, I wasn’t intentionally listening in. I was thirsty and I passed your door. You said something like ‘There is no more need for the Gundams, now that the Colonies are at peace,’ and it has been bothering me ever since. I want to know...tell me, please, Father," I pleaded with him, grasping his icy hands in mine.
He winced slightly as I touched him, but soon turned his scowl into a broad grin. "Ask me any questions you wish, and I will answer as well as I can...,"
"What are the Gundams?" I interrupted, impatient now.
"Except that. I’ll explain how you are going to find the answer to that after your other questions, if you don’t mind," he answered with a politeness that sickened me. Mother had always described him as a rebel, never following the rules, and especially not in high school, so why what he always so polite. Outcasts aren’t polite! I found later that when she said rebel, she didn’t mean what I thought she meant. I regained my composure after the disappointment of not receiving an answer to my question, and tried to think of a second. My mind went blank and I just sat there, mouth agape. "No questions?" he asked, still keeping his perfect military bearing. ‘He would have made the Perfect Soldier, had he been in the war,’ I thought, smiling.
Finally, after rethinking what I knew and had learned in "class" with Mother and Father, I cam up with an inquiry suitable for the occasion. "Why is your name the same as the late leader of the Colonies, back in the year AC 180?"
He sat back, and at first I thought him to laugh at such a silly question. Why was his the same as someone else’s? But, once again, he surprised me. "My name," he began. "is not Heero Yuy. That is a name I was given when Operation Meteor started, back in the year After Colony 193, thirteen years after Heero Yuy died. I chose that name because I was to protect the Colonies and shelter them from the horrors of war as he once did. And I never relinquished it,"
This caused me to blink several times before I understood it all. By then, a million other questions stormed through my mind, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to ask a single one. Finally I spurted out, "What was Uncle Miliardo’s last name?"
"You’ve had a lot of questions about names...Peacecraft,"
"Yes?" I asked, thinking he was talking to me, since that was my middle name, and he called me it frequently, but only when Mother wasn’t around. She always got teary eyed at it’s mention, but why, I never knew.
"No, dear, not you. His full name is Miliardo Peacecraft, or Zechs Merquise, the Lightning Count...," he paused, allowing for all of that to sink in. "Do you remember that name from your mother’s lessons? I’m sure it came up more than once when she talked about OZ, correct?"
"Yes...," I thought about this for a moment. Zechs Merquise, Miliardo Peacecraft...Zechs Merquise, Miliardo Peacecraft...Miliardo was holding a mask in Mother’s picture, and Zechs wore one in all of the history books! Now, you must imagine, my head was swimming, and doing every stroke known to man. Even the butterfly. But, I didn’t let any of this show, and continued as best I could to look as bored as possible-something Father excelled at.
"Sarah, do you have any other questions?" Father inquired. "I implore you, ask away...," he trailed off, awaiting my response. I was speechless. I literally had nothing to say. What could I say? My father had been apart of something called Operation Meteor, of which I had no knowledge, and my uncle was the famous Lightning Count. And Peacecraft...why was Miliardo’s last name the same as my middle? I contemplated these facts, and remembered that Mother’s full name was Relena Ann Darlian Yuy. Now, I had always thought that Darlian was her maiden name, but that would be that my uncle would need to be Miliardo Darlian, no Peacecraft.
"What is Darlian, then?" I asked without even knowing.
"That is your mother’s maiden name," Father replied.
"But...,"
"Why is Miliardo’s different? Because when your mother was little, she was hidden because her family was in trouble. They wanted to keep her safe, so she was adopted by Mr. Darlian, the former and late Vice Foreign Minister of the Colonies. Relena was informed of all of this before her adoptive father died, and she became an heir to the Peacecraft family...but only for a while. When the war ended, she took the name Darlian again, and then we got married a short while later. She kept the name Darlian in memory of her father, the man who raised her. Zechs unmasked himself when he left OZ and the Romefeller Foundation, and became Miliardo Peacecraft once again. But, now, I have said too much. you may have one more question before I inform you of your next mission," I always loved it when he called chores of mine "missions," it always made it seem more fun. Quickly, I decided upon my last query. Reaching out, I took the framed picture in my hands, and, holding it gingerly as though it were crystal, I spoke.
"Who are these people?" I asked while pointing at each of the other boys, resting my eyes upon the holy man for quite some time.
"My new mission for you requires you knowing the names of them, so I shall just continue as planned. Get a pen and paper, quickly now, and I will answer,"
When I was ready, he continued.
"Left to right, tallest to shortest I believe. Write this exactly as I tell you. Number 03, Trowa Barton. Number 05, Chang Wufei. Number 01, Heero Yuy, or me. Number 02, Duo Maxwell. Number 04, Quatre Raberba Winner. Do you have all of that? Do you need any spellings?" he asked. I shook my head and looked at the paper. After reading over the names, I gasped at seeing the last one.
"Raberba Winner? Isn’t that the wealthiest family in the Colonies? Quatre is the sole heir, am I wrong?"
He smiled. "You’ve been paying attention to your Mother. Good girl. Yes, that is. And also, write this down. Tallgeese/Epyon, Zechs Merquise or Miliardo Peacecraft. Now, for the next part," He looked up, face as grave as usual, and stated plainly, "You must locate each and every one of these people,"
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