Chapter 4: Alfred Izuruha, Libot Colonial Resident

"Today is the day," Duo said. He settled into the cockpit. "Cross your fingers?" Trowa held up his crossed fingers before repelling down the Alex System Gundam. They found the way to unlock the vault and used their own Gundams to dig the dirt away. It was a wondrous June day. The wall to the Gundam's right now had a tunnel that let the day show through with two other Gundams on the other side.

Duo shut the cockpit platform and activated the optics. Trowa ran ahead down the tunnel, watching the Gundam stand over his shoulder. His heart pounded as he felt the vibration follow him to the outer air. A rare smile came to his lips as the sunlight gleamed off the Alex System Gundam for the first time in over one hundred years. Trowa watched Duo activate the beam saber and loft it high.

"Want to spar, Trowa?" Duo's voice crackled over the intercom. Trowa ran over to Heavyarms and settled into the cockpit. After all, a little practice was vital to keep one's edge.

Trowa shut down the Alex and opened the cockpit platform. The Deathscythe Hell landed in front of him. Duo appeared after the Deathscythe Hell's cockpit opened.

"See what I mean? It's so fast," Duo said, hopping up and looking in at Trowa. Trowa could see why Duo had beaten him in three minutes. They had switched and Trowa had Duo pinned within seven minutes. He wasn't use to fighting in a right handed Gundam or else he would have had Duo sooner.

"I can't believe it. It could go up against Tallgeese and beat it," Trowa said, getting out of the cockpit and stretching towards the sun. "I've got something here to celebrate the day. He removed a tattered envelope from his pocket and laid it out on the platform. He soaked up the sun for a minute while Duo sat with his legs dangling over the Deathscythe Hell's cockpit platform.

"Is it Al's letter?" Duo asked with a sly smile. Trowa nodded

///April 21, 0090

Dear Chris,

I heard your coming back to Libot next month. I've decided to write you after some turmoil. I'm sure your parents have told you about my cancer. The doctors seem to think I only have three weeks at most.

Because of this I've decided to make peace with all my demons, one of which involves you. I went round and round with if I should send you these things, but the threat of the war up here in the colonies has spurred me to my decision. I didn't take this taped journal to the authorities when it was originally recorded because of you and Bernie.

I loved you both very much and what I witnessed between you two killed me inside. Voltaire said that, 'One owes respect to the living. To the dead one owes only the truth.'

I know that you were always curious about what happened to my 'older brother.' He wasn't. Bernie was a Zeon soldier sent to Libot to find a Gundam that the Federation Forces had secretly hidden. It was the same Gundam I saw you injured in after taking out a second Zaku.

Bernie was the pilot of that second Zaku you fought and killed. The whole story is in the tapes I'm sending you. For a long time I was angry with you and Bernie for fighting a pointless battle and doing what you did. The Zeon warlord surrendered and your fight still continued.

He didn't need to die! I could have stopped it if only I had gotten to him in time before he engaged you in combat. He was maintaining radio silence so he didn't know about the Zeon surrender or Reott. For years I carried my guilt. If only had been quicker, I could have saved his life and kept you safe from injury. I've learned that events happen for a reason.

If things hadn't of worked out as they did, Zeon would not have been cast in a bad light and beaten back. If I would have made his journals public there would have been a backlash against the Federal government. The Anaheim Incident wouldn't have been won. I was only eleven and I lost one of my best friends in a battle while the other one was wounded horribly. Right now, I'm hoping to make it to my twenty-second birthday so I can see you again.

I know what I've sent along with this letter will hurt you greatly, but I have to give Bernie what I owe him and help inspire you to beware of the tension in the colonies, Chris. It's every bit as dangerous at the Zeons. Innocent people like Bernie could die for nothing and I can't sit by and let that happen on the eve of another war.

One day we will all die without a trace. God knows, I wish you were here with me now in this lonely place. Even if I leave tomorrow, I know I've done everything an ordinary person can do to shape a war and protect people who should never have to waste their lives fighting it. That day I saw you and Bernie fight changed me forever. I died that very day.

I hope to see you, but if I don't, Farewell,

Alfred Izuruha

P. S. That day you and Bernie fought was the last day I ever collected war mementos. Everything I collected up until then, and what you sent me, is in the package. I hope you burn them. I just never wanted them after I had seen what they really cost me.///

"Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse," Duo said. He gazed at the trees swaying in the velvety wind. Bird songs and leaves rustled for fifteen minutes. The summer sun warmed their glum dispositions slowly. "Do you think Chris and Al ever saw each other after that?"

"Lets put the Alex back into the repair bay. I have a suggestion on what to do with it," Trowa said, getting back into the cockpit. "Heavyarms has something to donate."

"What is taking them so long," Duo hissed, adjusting his formal ankle length priest vestment. A large silver cross adorned his neck. He had a Bible and rosary clutched in his left hand. Trowa placed the formal half a foot tall hat on his head and fastened the chin strap. He then straightened the green plumes on the top. He was dressed in his formal OZ dress uniform with the cut-away coat and tails. A saber adorned his right hip.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting," Quatre said. He was dressed in his traditional garb. Loose robes that were all white and trimmed in light blue. He even had on a blue Arabian headdress that was trimmed in gold. "I'm really excited to see your project."

"You look really rested," Duo observed.

"Yeah,... well,... I told Rasid that I was beginning to suffer battle fatigue and I would have to quit piloting Sandrock if I couldn't get any rest. He asked what he could do to make it better and I explained my sisters thought my priorities lay elsewhere. Rasid's having a little discussion with Sultana this morning."

"Ohhh, my money is on the Maganac Corp. Rasid's a tough old bird," Duo said to Trowa. "He'll put the pushy Winner women in their place."

"I'll take some of that. Thirty and a Gundam wash. I met Sultana. She's wiry, but mean as a rattle snake," Trowa said, shaking Duo's hand. "Twenty-nine angry Muslim women will take down Rasid and his thirty-nine men."

"That is my sister and my body guard you're gambling over," Quatre said, getting a vexed look.

"Who do you like in the match," Duo asked, letting mischief sparkle in his eyes. Quatre about lectured, but Heero in his boarding school outfit and Wufei in his long white traditional Chinese garb came downstairs.

"Damn it, Barton-san! Why are you dressed like an Ozzie," Wufei groused.

"Today, Duo and I will not tolerate any derogatory slang. It's the most formal thing I own and I believe that someone from the OZ organization needs to be represented today," Trowa explained.

"Don't worry! It's just a uniform and not the way he truly feels. We are glad that you all decided to come today," Duo said, smacking his Bible. "We have a funeral to attend."

"You two have finally lost it, haven't you?" Heero asked while he finished tying his cream colored cravat.

"Who passed away," Quatre asked with wide aqua eyes.

"Their sanity," Wufei snorted as they followed the pair out to the truck.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us," Heero growled, pacing along the edge of the ridge. "And you fixed it! I'm checking it out." Heero took a step down the slope only to have Duo yank him back up. He shrugged Duo off.

"No, Heero! We've already decided what's to be done with the Alex. Back off," Duo said, stepping in front of Heero. He shoved the long haired boy aside and drew up short when a gleaming metal blade appeared in front of his nose.

"He said no," Trowa said in a soft threatening voice. Heero backed off from Trowa's threat and helped Duo back up. Trowa sheathed his saber and took a piece of paper from Duo.

The five boys looked down into the grassy valley where a red, white, and blue Gundam stood boldly shining in the sunlight.

"We will tell you the full story when we get back to the cabin, but this morning we want to commit this Gundam to everyone who has ever died in war. No matter if it was in a mobile suit, a tank, a plane, or on foot. Whether they be a solider, a general, a spy, or support troops," Duo announced. Trowa nodded to Duo who stepped forward to the edge of the cliff and faced the small assembly.

"Are you sure, Trowa? It's not to late," Duo asked.

"Go ahead, Duo. I'm sure," Trowa confirmed.

"These are some song lyrics I found," Duo said, unfolding a piece of paper tucked in his Bible.

//Here are the young men,

A weight on their shoulders

Here are the young men,

Well where have they been?

We knocked on all the doors

Of Hell's darker chambers

Pushed to the limits

We dragged ourselves in

Watched from the wings as

We saw ourselves now as

We never had seen

Portrayal of the traumas and degradation

The sorrows we suffered

And never were freed

Where have they been?

Weary inside, now our hearts

Lost forever

Can't replace the fear

Or the thrill of the chase

These rituals showed up the door

For our wanderings

Opened and shut, then slammed

In our face

Where have they been?///

"Trowa, I believe you have a poem," Duo said, giving his spot over to the taller boy.

///Being Beauteous

Against a fall of snow, a being beautiful, and tall

Whistling of death and circles of faint music

Make this adored body, swelling and trembling

Like a specter, rise...

Black and scarlet gashes burst in the gleaming flesh.

The true colors of life grow dark,

Shimmer and separate

In the scaffolding around the vision.

Shivering mutter and rise,

And the furious taste of these effects is changed

With deadly whistling and raucous music

that the world, far between us, hurls up at our mother of beauty...

She retreats from us, she rises up...

Oh ash-white face

Oh tousled hair

Oh crystal arms!

On this cannon I mean to destroy myself

In a swirling of trees and soft air!///

Trowa drew his saber once again. He lifted it high. Duo removed a small trigger from his priest robes. Trowa dropped the blade in a swift formal motion signaling Duo to squeeze the switch.

The Gundam glowed a bright gold at the joint as it began to tremble slightly. The explosion forced the five pilots back several steps. Heat and smoke enveloped them to be wafted away by the gentle summer winds. The grinding faded back to the sounds of nature once again. Duo opened up his Bible and recited Psalm 91 in a low reverent way and genuflected.

"There's not a thing left," Wufei said after a moment of silence. "That was very impressive, but you told the punch line before the joke."

"No joke here, Wufei," Duo replied. "Come back to the cabin. Trowa and I will fix you guys lunch and we'll tell a story about a little boy who liked to collect war mementoes and his two friends."

"Bye, Trowa," Duo said to the green-eyed boy who was loading an OZ jeep. He was dressed in a regular olive-colored OZ uniform now. "With everyone else gone on a mission, I'm going to be bored to death."

"I really enjoyed my R&R. I'll send you the Ox troop movement information in three days. That should keep you busy," Trowa replied.

"Thanks, buddy," Duo said. "Are you going to tell the Colonel about her cousin this time?"

Trowa sighed to Duo's prying question and gazed off into the distance woods. Duo said, "I mean... I just know that when you do that... you'll... have to do away with her because of your orders from the scientists."

"I intend to," Trowa's gentle voice was solemn. "As you pointed out, the Colonel is on borrowed time."

"Since you gave me great advice about women, I'll return the favor. My advice? Danger is as addictive as any drug you can snort up your nose. Be careful you don't get hooked on something you can't put down. Don't get too up close and personal with the Lady or things will get too sticky for you to handle. I'll keep my ears out," Duo said, leaning against the jeep as Trowa slammed the door. "By the way, Hilde agreed to come and visit me. Your advice worked."

"I'm glad to hear that. Good bye," Trowa said, waving a white gloved hand. Duo rose up from his slouch and watched Trowa drive off. He softly chuckled to himself and pulled out the gleaming disk from his jeans' pocket. One side was marked 'Alex System Program.' He jammed it back into his vestments and walked to the cabin.

"What nobody knows...," Duo mumbled.

The End