Disclaimer: Not mine. The end. Rora is the only thing here I claim as my own.

I'm not quite sure where this came from. I like to look for similarities in things and watching that battle between Quatre and Heero very much reminded me of Anakin/Darth Vader and the whole Star Wars universe.

Comments are always welcome.

Come There and Back Again

By: Nicole Silverwolf

Date Earth: AC 195 October 18

Date Home: 25.421.431.02155

One of the five turned today. The one who looks so innocent that it hurts. The sweet one that not a soul suspected.

It was just as terrifying as the first time it happened. Maybe more so. When you know what's coming it both builds adrenaline and drains it. There are no surprises because you've done it once before. You still dread its inevitable approach.

His name is Quatre Raberba Winner. The sole son and heir of a wealthy colony's proprietor. He has no mother and adores his family above all else. It's why

he decided to leave home and become a Gundam pilot. So that he could help others. So others wouldn't have to fight and die. He has blonde hair that tumbles into his eyes. It shades blue green orbs that sparkle with youth and innocence. And with the darker truths of a warrior who has seen too much in his day.

The similarities are so great that it is hard to distinguish the past remembrances from the present realities.

The news proclaimed his father's death for all those who didn't know already. Shot down in a revolt against him. He, much like a long lost queen, did not deserve the wrath brought down upon him. He was a kind and good leader.

A man true. Fallible like all. But good.

Once I heard a proverb that only now I see the harsh truth behind. 'A person is smart. People are dumb stupid panicky animals and you know it.' I read many books about sociology but that quote...that one seems the most appropriate here.

Grief as strong as it was; it led to anger. And then to hate. It drove him insane...I suppose that is an apt description of the one who Quatre so mirrors as well. So great was this fear, hatred, loathing that all the good was lost within the boy. Compare it to when you are so close to something that you can't see it until you step back. Except he hasn't stepped back yet. And if history is destined to repeat itself he may never step back far enough. Eclipsed by pain raw and new. He never knew how to control it, why he would have to.

I knew he went to Earth. Flew back in record time it would seem.

And he stole the Gundam of Zero One--Heero Yuy.

In the cockpit of the Gundam Zero, he was as powerful as the one who helped to destroy us. The Zero system as it has been dubbed is a good useful system. It improves and clears thoughts. It sets everything into straight lines. But life is not made of straight lines and if the pilot cannot see that beforehand, they will not see it when the system begins to work--to focus for lack of a better word to describe it. It happened to Quatre, though he was more in control than most would have been. Even we would have problems being in control when the system swings up to its full capacity.

He claims that outer space has gone crazy. That the war has gone crazy.

War is chaos. It has never held order and is always crazy. Yet here they stand, back at square one. For every step towards peace they have taken, every instant spent here is two steps back. Quatre knows that; the two youngsters facing off against him know it. And they are friends. Comrades. Partners.

About to destroy each other.

He means to use the destructive power of the Gundam to destroy the colonies; wipe out life in space. If he knows that that will not solve anything he has yet to show it.

You can here it in their voices. Things like that don't change no matter how much you try to cut off emotions or play the roles of perfect tin soldiers.

None of them want to do this.

They are younger than the youngest of us was when this started. Children fighting the wars of men. For the simplest of ideals which are sadly mired in politics and personal pride. They have hearts more pure than anything I have seen. They are lucky because they still remember what that simple ideal should truly be. Somehow I know that they will be the ones who will suffer more than anyone else will though.

Heero is talking. He speaks words of truth. That if everything has gone crazy that the only person you can trust and believe in is yourself. It took me far longer to figure that out. He is stronger than anyone may ever give him credit for. The quiet one who once called himself Nanashi--but now Trowa Barton--he is talking too. Putting every conviction of his heart into what he's saying.

Quatre is listening but he doesn't hear. His voice is high, strained with tears and exhaustion. It is lost and confused yet sharp and focused. The zero system is not helping.

Perhaps that is why it is a good system when used correctly. It can hear the whispers of everything around it. What a Jedi would call the Force. But any name given to it does not change what it is. So then it is up to the pilot to sift through that flood of information and make the decisions on how to act.

He fires on the darker suit. The Vayeight. It has already been terribly damaged by the first sets of blasts that Quatre got off. It is close to dying and they all know it.

Trowa's voice is clear as he talks. He understands much though he is silent. Something that talkative people tend to take for granted. The better you listen the more you hear. He must have been listening quite a lot to speak with such kind wisdom.

I focused then. The Force or whatever someone may deem to call it someday (perhaps fate) moved. It was probably all that saved him from complete annihilation. As it is that death may have been the kinder fate.

The two remaining soldiers are still fighting.










Resolve and questioning.

And on and on.

Quatre is crying for someone to help Trowa, to be left behind to die. Telling Heero to go after him; begging him to. And the youngster is refusing. As pained and torn as he might be he will stand by the side of one who may destroy them all. He reminds me of you sometimes. In brief instances and casual glances. In undying resolve and unimaginable pain.

Have we really come that far? All the sacrifices we made, the choices... they were all meaningless. We have suffered for nothing! We lost everything and still the cycle repeats itself, word for word even far from home. War, peace and more war and more peace. Someone once termed it an endless waltz. A few bars looped together, that could go on forever. It is an apt description.

We have accomplished nothing! We did what we thought was right...we tried to save the future so many years prior to this. Didn't the few of us decide to suffer in silence so that these children would never have to? Did any of us do that? I look at those two fighting like there will be no future...no tomorrow. And I see the grief and know the horrors still. If we were strong, could we have made a difference? Brought sanity and compassion back to this world? Would it have even mattered?

Such thoughts are not befitting of a Jedi. It is against all we believe...believed in. It is far more difficult than I thought it would be to think of our way of life in the past tense. There is no more and never will be. So why continue to fight? We have still lost everything we are and would have been. In the end I believe that our choices may have only prolonged the inevitable.

The Dark Side is still winning. And we are still a lost and forgotten people.

Date Earth: AC 195 October 20

Date Home: 25.421.431.11040

I almost swore off writing in this thing a few days ago did you know that? But then again I have recorded everything I could since I left home. Why should I break tradition was my justification.

I have spent a great deal of time meditating to find an answer to why we fight...why what we did might have been right. I am ashamed that I allowed it to grow as far as it has. That I have allowed it to cloud my judgement as you can see on the pages before this.

In some small way--watching that battle a few days ago--I saw us fighting the battles we had so long ago.

I wanted them to continue. I wanted these children to experience the pain we live with for days on end...that I still live with and I'm sure still weighs on all the survivors. I have been rarely more ashamed of myself or of what I claim to uphold and believe in.

Does this mean that I am no better than whom I claim to fight? I wonder at how far into the light a person can really go. If anything these thoughts serve to show me that we all stand on that near non-existent line between both aspects of the Force.

I decided to write today for a different reason though. It allows me to believe something I have not believed in for such a long time.

They stopped fighting.

Quatre was stronger, he saw the truth. He fought the darkness. He stopped fighting. Not forever, for he is one of the pilots who must...but for a moment...he saw the truth. The system lined things out for him and he saw the truth.

And a helmet came crashing off of sweat-slicked features and eyes looked out without madness but with sight. They contain more shadows than before. He remembers what has happened--he always will. He believes he has taken an ally's...a friend's life.

He doesn't know all of what occurred out there. And if I have anything to sign about it he will never know what exactly saved his friend when they find him. For I know now that they will. I know we all promised not to do any Jedi like work...I can see Master Kenobi's exasperated look, famous even though he was not a significant part of our temple lives.

Heero doesn't look well. That system...curse and blessing in one...it caught him too. He claims to be the Perfect Soldier. Today only proves that he is more human than machine.

That is a greater relief and joy than I could ever comprehend.

It has drained him to no end. The boy literally collapsed out of the Gundam. He still isn't recovered from all that has happened in the last few days. Fighting with Quatre after days with no sleep and very little food...even a rock like him will feel the effects. He's been drifting around the line between unconsciousness and consciousness since I last wrote.

Right before the battle ended.

More like when Heero lost consciousness. That stopped Quatre harder than anything man made could. Something happened then, he must have felt it inside, in some place that not even insanity can reach.

He is Force sensitive, if you wish to label it that. Not enough to classify him as a Jedi but since there have never been any others with that strong an ability he can be considered to be as strong as one. Perhaps now they take students on with any kind of sensitivity to the Force. I don't know.

That may have been what stopped him. His compassion or kindness might be more appropriate. He wished for no more death. No more sorrow. And so even though he could have ended Heero's life right there...he didn't.

They are sitting on the beach. I may not have been born or raised on this planet...but I am very sure that you don't throw pineapples into the ocean for dogs to chase. Driftwood or a stick would be more appropriate. But then again Heero probably wouldn't know that. Still he seems to be enjoying it. He certainly has a way with dogs.

He should listen to his own advice a little more often. Telling Quatre to play with the dogs, that they can innately recognize the kindness in people. Take a look at yourself Heero; they like you too.

For a few brief moments I look at them and see the children they still truly are. If you know how to look for it you can even see Heero smiling, in his own way. Quatre too--he always smiles--but this is somehow different, more relaxed and not shadowed by the questions that still follow and flood his mind.

And then, not in the great anger of battle but in that brief moment of pure peace, I found something that connected them to us. To what we believe in.

They may not use the Force. In fact I'm sure that they won't even be able to track down the obscure 20th century references to the word. Not even Heero whose hacking skills are almost unmatched. They can't levitate things, or use suggestions to turn the mind of an idle fool.

They fight with no swords in their hands. Phantom ones connected to them through wires and hand-holds are the closest they will ever come to the feel of holding a humming, pulsing lightsaber.

The Force connection is only recognizable in Quatre and perhaps a little, each to different degrees and in different ways in the other four. But as before, they'll probably never know they have it.

And yet, they are more like the Jedi than I believe I am at times. I think you would agree.

They don't want to fight. Not in the way that warriors and the power hungry do. They fight for peace. For justice. They fight so that the innocent, the others will never have to.

Peace is not a goal though; it is not a place that you can reach...it just is. You have to find it inside in order create it around you.

These pilots have not found it quite yet. They struggle and stumble take a few steps forward and then a few back. They are learning, not Masters--not yet. Somewhere between Padawan learner and Knight. Writing this I believe that perhaps they are facing their trials. It didn't occur to me until now. Trials are different for every Jedi Knight. Why wouldn't these trials be different from my own and from yours?

The two of them are getting ready to leave. The troops that were kind enough to hide them when they crash-landed here cannot hide them any longer. The man in charge has given them every possible chance to escape.

Heero speaks of kindness as a fault; one that will get them killed in battle. But at the same time...he realizes where it is. In the spaces between war...in peace. True that in battles kindness is very hard to find. But it's there. I think it's what caused Quatre to warn the colony of his impending attack and saved Heero from having to kill a friend.

"I guess for us the meaning of life...lies in surviving battles." The stoic one says.

Well like I have seen...a few steps forward then a few back. Exasperating.

They've got everything they'll need. Quatre's on board already, running pre-flight efficiently.

The two sable-faced dogs are waiting at the edge of the ramp whining their good-byes to both boys though Quatre has already conveyed his gratitude and thanks to the two animals.

Heero is standing at the end, ready to roll it up so that they can go. Casting a quick glance around to be sure that nobody will see, he bends down to both the dogs and lets them mob him for a moment.

It's somewhere between a tackle, hug and wrestling match as the two enthusiastic wagging creatures lick his hands while he tries to rub their furry heads. It's only for a moment but I swear that I can see a wide genuine smile cross the marble features in the dim light. Then he's standing and the ramp is rolling up. And for a moment he's forgetting everything he's just said. Kindness and regret are mirrored in two cobalt blue eyes.

Perhaps we aren't so lost and forgotten after all.

From a journal written by Jedi Knight Rora Jiien Left behind in the care of a close friend in the hopes that no one would forget the Gundam pilots of After Colony 195. The term Jedi Knight comes from an extremely obscure but popular set of films from the late 20th century -"Star Wars" of which many of the metaphors seem to have been derived from.

It is unknown why this writer chose that particular pen name or why they chose these particular films to base their comparisons off of. Little to no information exists on this writer who was apparently around the pilots of the legendary Gundams for most of the war. It is unknown whether or not they actually knew the Gundam pilots as there is no mention of her or him in any of the pilot's lives or stories.

Urban legend and myths range anywhere from claiming that he/she actually was a Jedi Knight as defined in the films to the more likely possibility that it was one of the women closer to the Gundam pilots, possibly Relena Peacecraft or Sally Po. Though neither of them were present during most of the battles described in detail in the journals and neither had any known pennames.

Taken from The New History of Earth: AC 0-AC 250 The Rise and Fall of Mobile Suits Edited by Jason Dowling and Michael Joseph Coughlin Tuftonia-Publishing Company, Boston MA Earth; AC 350


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Thanks for reading.