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"Baby Series 3"Written By: Karina Rating: PG Spoilers: None Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the Characters from the series but the baby is mine. Pairing: Wu Fei Notes: Challenge 132. Baby Series 3 #167. Takes
place a few minutes after Issues of Trust. Many thanks to ShenLong for her work betaing
this fic.
Of Power And Time //Am I wrong to pursue them, these men of substance, integrity and hope? It is a new year in which much will change and not just for me. I gave up the idea of being the Chang when my home was destroyed. I was furious, disbelieving. Why would they do such a thing? I have found no satisfactory explanation as to why and I hold so much anger. Will that rage ever ease? It was unjust. It was… terrible.// The endlessly resounded question for him was; what gave them the right? What gave those terrible old men, men who professed to be wise and all knowing, who purported to have the best interests of preserving their culture and their people… Why destroy the very heritage they were dedicated to preserving? He had trusted in them. He had been taught to revere the Elders. They were the sages, wise men, caretakers of all that was important in his young life. These wise men who spoke of tradition, of the importance of knowing where the Ancestors originated, how they had lived… of accumulating, respecting and passing on their wisdom… These men of wisdom had lost faith. Destroying the colony would not preserve their history, their culture or their people. In his eyes there had been no respect of the Ancestors in their decision. //It was an act in which they demonstrated themselves to be no more virtuous than the Alliance. This one act reveals them to be as corrupt as Romefeller, as Oz… as questionable as the current regime that now decides the fate of colony and planet alike.// Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Hindsight was a wonderful thing. History was hindsight and was filled with examples of such corruption. Tales of grand intentions sullied and tarnished over time, degenerating into a sordid mess of putrefaction. It was there, in history, for anyone inclined to look and to see and understand. Mankind was incapable of constructing anything that would not decay. Even the great pyramids of Egypt decayed, slowly and surely crumbling to rubble as time passed; the civilisation that constructed them long gone to dust. In another thousand years the pyramids would still exist, though be reduced in size and who could say mankind would still be there to prop up what had to be the finest example of their existence? //Mankind fears time, but time fears only the pyramids.// Who was it who had told him that so long ago? He could no longer say who, but someone had. One of the Elders? One of the Elders who had made that fateful decision and detonated their home? That one act had been the end of their identity, casting them adrift, cutting them off from the life they had known. But he could pull them together, begin something new. He could shape something wonderful. It was not so long into the New Year, not yet Chinese New Year. A beginning.
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