Post by Threid on Jun 9, 2010 19:12:36 GMT -5
Kyle settled back into his chair and sighed deeply. It had been a long day, full of excessive protocol and a bug-eyed Lt. Gerard, doing his best to take it all in stride. He, Karol and Kelly were doing a commendable job with their unofficial assignment from Lt. Reaves. He thought back to the time where he had followed protocol strictly, without question. It was, after all, what was expected of him in the military - or at least he had thought so. What they wanted, really, were men and women of talent to help them with their war.
Before, Kyle had considered him and his peers in military service as cogs in the machine of war. Now, he thought that drops of fuel in the engine of war was a more apt metaphor. If a man or woman fell in battle, his peers rushed to fill the gap. The loss of personnel required some restructuring, it was true, but no matter how many men a side lost, they would still keep fighting. Each cog in a machine had a purpose, and the machine ceased to work if cogs were removed; the war would continue as long as the higher-ups deemed it worthwhile - as long as they kept their hands from pressing the off switch, ending the bloodshed with compromises and treaties.
Yes, he had come a long way from the eager, tech-enthused boy he had been mere months ago, awkward and soft-spoken, bold only when describing tech, or working with it. Now, he interacted with people - his superiors and his subordinates - with an ease that would have struck the old Kyle dumb with disbelief. He hadn't made time to read any scientific journals or technology articles in several weeks. He still regarded his mobile suit with awe and reverence, and cared for it meticulously, but he saw the value - both personal and tactical - in his relationships with his teammates.
But, he was still a man of science. The effect had a cause, and Kyle was doing his best to definitively name it, without the benefit of being able to repeat the experiment. He had begun fighting for the chance to access and use the latest technology, and perhaps to escape his turbulent past. Now, he was caught up in fighting; he didn't necessarily believe in the Earth Federation's cause, but he was fighting to protect people - of that he was certain. He needed to protect Nora, his teammates, and the people whose homes had been turned into battlefields.
He wouldn't be able to stop fighting until the war was over - not at this rate. He didn't believe half the stories about the cruelty and inhumanity of the Zeon armed forces, and he was certain that his side had done just as bad, or worse. After all, they were all human. Many of the Zeeks were probably fighting something precious to them, too, and wouldn't be able to stop fighting until that which they held dear was safe. The trouble was that the end of the war wasn't up to people like them; it wasn't up to the people fighting. He would kill other soldiers, and other soldiers might kill him, but their sacrifices wouldn't mean anything - at least not individually. The higher-ups only saw the numbers, and would only yield when further resistance could not lead them to victory in any conceivable way.
It was a barbaric way of deciding the fate of millions of human beings, but it was part of the world he lived in. The question was, ought he to continue fighting in a manner that was so inefficient? If only both sides could rationally determine the outcome of a war, based on the number of men fighting, ships, land controlled, and other resources! If only wars could be fought and decided with simulations, or ideas! What about humankind made them clash with their fellow humans, stopping only when there were not enough left alive to oppose them? Surely, those fighting on both sides were not so different. The ideologies of Zeon and the Earth Federation might be at odds, but he doubted that the values of those fighting differed significantly.
He could not think of a practical solution to the war. People were already fighting and dying, and there was little that he could do to stem the tide. He could not bring himself to stop fighting, not after he'd invested so much time and energy into becoming a good pilot, and getting to know the members of his MS team and the 42nd. He could protect no one sitting in a lab or a home somewhere, but if he stayed, he would have a mobile suit - and that was better than nothing. He would fight for the memory of Bigby Wolfe, of Tybalt Karrister and Madelaine Moreau. And he would fight to protect the people back home. And if part of that was defending Jaburo, then he'd give it his all.
He wasn't completely satisfied with his conclusions; he knew that they were incomplete, and based off partial information and personal observation. But, they were all he had at the moment. Perhaps later - after the war - he could think about what he had done and how he had fought, and come to a satisfactory conclusion. Perhaps he wouldn't like the answer he came up with, but it was too late to back out now; anyway, it was not in Kyle's character to quit. He would continue to give it his all in the EFGF, doing his part in a war that escaped his comprehension, but he could no longer be comfortable doing it. The irony did not escape him: Before, he had been uncomfortable around others, and comfortable in the system; now, it was the other way around.
His computer screen flashed, bringing Kyle back to his quarters on Orange Base and notifying him of a recent publication in a journal he followed. He closed it deliberately, and left his quarters in search of Karol and Kelly; he could always catch up on the science later.
Before, Kyle had considered him and his peers in military service as cogs in the machine of war. Now, he thought that drops of fuel in the engine of war was a more apt metaphor. If a man or woman fell in battle, his peers rushed to fill the gap. The loss of personnel required some restructuring, it was true, but no matter how many men a side lost, they would still keep fighting. Each cog in a machine had a purpose, and the machine ceased to work if cogs were removed; the war would continue as long as the higher-ups deemed it worthwhile - as long as they kept their hands from pressing the off switch, ending the bloodshed with compromises and treaties.
Yes, he had come a long way from the eager, tech-enthused boy he had been mere months ago, awkward and soft-spoken, bold only when describing tech, or working with it. Now, he interacted with people - his superiors and his subordinates - with an ease that would have struck the old Kyle dumb with disbelief. He hadn't made time to read any scientific journals or technology articles in several weeks. He still regarded his mobile suit with awe and reverence, and cared for it meticulously, but he saw the value - both personal and tactical - in his relationships with his teammates.
But, he was still a man of science. The effect had a cause, and Kyle was doing his best to definitively name it, without the benefit of being able to repeat the experiment. He had begun fighting for the chance to access and use the latest technology, and perhaps to escape his turbulent past. Now, he was caught up in fighting; he didn't necessarily believe in the Earth Federation's cause, but he was fighting to protect people - of that he was certain. He needed to protect Nora, his teammates, and the people whose homes had been turned into battlefields.
He wouldn't be able to stop fighting until the war was over - not at this rate. He didn't believe half the stories about the cruelty and inhumanity of the Zeon armed forces, and he was certain that his side had done just as bad, or worse. After all, they were all human. Many of the Zeeks were probably fighting something precious to them, too, and wouldn't be able to stop fighting until that which they held dear was safe. The trouble was that the end of the war wasn't up to people like them; it wasn't up to the people fighting. He would kill other soldiers, and other soldiers might kill him, but their sacrifices wouldn't mean anything - at least not individually. The higher-ups only saw the numbers, and would only yield when further resistance could not lead them to victory in any conceivable way.
It was a barbaric way of deciding the fate of millions of human beings, but it was part of the world he lived in. The question was, ought he to continue fighting in a manner that was so inefficient? If only both sides could rationally determine the outcome of a war, based on the number of men fighting, ships, land controlled, and other resources! If only wars could be fought and decided with simulations, or ideas! What about humankind made them clash with their fellow humans, stopping only when there were not enough left alive to oppose them? Surely, those fighting on both sides were not so different. The ideologies of Zeon and the Earth Federation might be at odds, but he doubted that the values of those fighting differed significantly.
He could not think of a practical solution to the war. People were already fighting and dying, and there was little that he could do to stem the tide. He could not bring himself to stop fighting, not after he'd invested so much time and energy into becoming a good pilot, and getting to know the members of his MS team and the 42nd. He could protect no one sitting in a lab or a home somewhere, but if he stayed, he would have a mobile suit - and that was better than nothing. He would fight for the memory of Bigby Wolfe, of Tybalt Karrister and Madelaine Moreau. And he would fight to protect the people back home. And if part of that was defending Jaburo, then he'd give it his all.
He wasn't completely satisfied with his conclusions; he knew that they were incomplete, and based off partial information and personal observation. But, they were all he had at the moment. Perhaps later - after the war - he could think about what he had done and how he had fought, and come to a satisfactory conclusion. Perhaps he wouldn't like the answer he came up with, but it was too late to back out now; anyway, it was not in Kyle's character to quit. He would continue to give it his all in the EFGF, doing his part in a war that escaped his comprehension, but he could no longer be comfortable doing it. The irony did not escape him: Before, he had been uncomfortable around others, and comfortable in the system; now, it was the other way around.
His computer screen flashed, bringing Kyle back to his quarters on Orange Base and notifying him of a recent publication in a journal he followed. He closed it deliberately, and left his quarters in search of Karol and Kelly; he could always catch up on the science later.