Part 12

//Elixir of life, potion of death.  Why do you haunt me o angel?  Is it not enough that you control all of creation?  Redemption of my tattered soul lies within your celestial grasp!  Heed me and renew my lost hope!//

~~        The mobile suit hanger is roughly the size of a giant gymnasium.  I can ponder no other words to describe its immensity.  Walking next to the feet of these giant machines I feel as insignificant as the bug you crush under your heel.  Jeremy leads me through the maze of giants till he finds exactly who he was looking for high on a catwalk above.

“Yo, Trieze!” Jeremy yells up to his brother.  “Hey bro!  Stop ignoring me and come on down here!”

I see his brother’s shoulders slump slightly as he grabs the rip line and is lowered gracefully to the concrete below.  “What is it Jeremy?” Trieze asks, his voice extremely regal even in his indignation of being disturbed while working.  He is wearing his school uniform even though classes are not in session yet.

“I wanted you to meet my new roommate, Zechs.  Zechs, this is my brother Trieze.”

“Nice to meet you.” I state keeping my head down and eyes trained on the floor.

“I was hoping you’d take Zechs into the cockpit.  I don’t want him to be the only one in our class to have never done it.”

“You’re doing this because you take pity on me?” A slight burning rises to my eyes.

“Hey no!  I didn’t mean it that way.  But you do want to get in one, don’t you?”

I let my gaze travel to the metal foot of the nearest suit.  Bowing my head to the older boy, “Trieze, I humbly impose myself on you.”

“I accept your imposition and I’ll give you extra lessons in piloting.” Trieze replies with a smile on his face.

“You don’t have to do that, I simply wanted the chance…”

“It’s my pleasure.” He interrupts.  “I can tell you will make a fine pilot one day.”

“That and you kissed his ass,” adds Jeremy.

“You could learn something from your roommate Jeremy.  The first step to becoming a good soldier is the lesson of humility.”

“Better known as humiliation…”

“Stop by tomorrow at 14:00 hours and I’ll give you your first lesson.  Now if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to my work.” He states turning away from us.

“Let’s go Zechs, we have things to do ourselves anyways.” Jeremy counters hoping to get a reaction from his brother.  He pouts when he is ignored.  He pulls me out of the hanger and we walk in the direction of the dorms.  “He is such a major pain in the ass sometimes.  Thinks because he’s so damn smart he can treat people like pawns.”

“I was hoping to be able to stop at the library before we head back to the room.”

“Huh?  Yeah, we could do that.”

“I’d rather go alone if you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?  I hate the stuffy old library anyways.  I’ll catch you later then.”  He yells back at me, seeing as he already took off.

I stuff my hands into my pockets and head off to the campus library.  It’s been years since I stepped foot into the domain of books and for some reason I feel it drawing me in today.  I pass through the silent shelves that contain the words of those long gone, these pages the only testament to the reality of their existence.  Thoughts of an age before technology placed its choke hold on the world.  Wondering through the stacks I absently grab random books, marveling at the ancient bindings that hold the pages in place.  I stop at one in particular.  Circa 2026…the year of the great uprising.  The book is titled “Holding Onto the Past: The Memoirs of Jacques Merquise”.  I take a seat in a small booth along the wall and flip through the pages.  Inside I learn the story of a man who became a heroic soldier who served his country during the uprising and almost died in the furious battle that ensued.  He almost ended up sacrificing his life, completely willingly.  The perfect soldier.

“That’s what I want to become,” I whisper to myself.  “The perfect soldier…Zechs Merquise.”            ~~

Perfect soldier, I did want to become that.  I look at the IV that leads to my arm.  A perfect soldier wouldn’t be stuck in the hospital after a battle.  He would have either been victorious, or died grandly in the fight. I will never be that soldier I so desperately wanted to become.

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