History is like a star. Those who don’t look at it fail to see its beauty. I do not believe it is those who don’t learn from history who repeat it, but rather those who think they can do it better.

Randel
Phoenix Gundam Pilot
AC 234

The soft alarm changed pitch three times before Randel hit it off. He stretched and cursed the small size of the cockpit again. He had been adrift for twenty hours or so on a route to the closest colony to the earth.

"We’ll both get some much needed rest," he said aloud. Randel sighed when no one spoke back, not that he expected any.

"At least we got out here with little trouble."

XXXXX

"No problem sir, she’ll be cleaned up and recharged in no time," the pudgy mechanic snorted out.

"No rush on it," Randel replied, "I plan on staying a little while."

"Not often you see a one man shuttle like this anymore," the mechanic continued pointing a sausage like fingure toward the now white phoenix in its bird mode.

"Yes, well." Randel’s started racing for an explanation. "It was my father’s design. He thought a dove would be appropriate to promote peace."

"Well it is a real beauty, your father had a good eye," the mechanic said.

"Thank you, I’ll give him the compliment. Might you know a good place to stay an get a bite to eat?"

The fat man grabbed one of his many chins and stroked them thinking. He mumbled something to himself and looked Randel over. An uneasy silence settled in. Randel could only imagine what he looked like.

Soaking wet in sweat, his red hair stuck to the top of his head. A flame pattern jacket, plain looking shirt and pants, Randel just hopped there was no white paint on him from when he repainted the Gundam.

"You know," the fat man said abruptly, "You might enjoy Maxis bar on Ruby Lane. There is a nice motel across from there as well. It’d suit you just fine."

Randel thanked the man after receiving instructions and was on his way. After deciding to walk, seeing as he spent the past week or so in the Gundam’s small cockpit, Randel planned out the rest of the day. First wash up, well, get the room would really be first. After a change in clothes he would hit the bar and relax for the afternoon. Then he would think of a way to get the supplies he would need and any info on his home and what happened, what rely happened.

"Well one thing at a time."

XXXXX

The room was small enough to be quaint yet large enough to feel comfortable, much like his bedroom at home. "I’m getting homesick again," he grumbled. He then sat down on the bed and picked up his laundered clothes. Their warmth was nice on his skin. After slipping them on he turned the TV on.

"Good afternoon everyone, this is Kari Maxewell with your news. Today another protest outside the EES embassy. Over 500 people gathered to show their outrage at the destruction of Side 4." Randel smiled at this, my people he thought. The white haired newswoman continued, "the military guard there dispersed the crowd after arresting four of them who the guard claimed where threatening. No word from Senator Aldin Lowe at this time."

Aldin? Why did that sound important. Randel shrugged, finished putting on his clothes and headed out the door. "I’ll think better on a full stomach."

XXXXX

Randel nursed his third drink and second helping of stew. He couldn’t afford anything more. It was hard though as both where rely good. Well anything was better than rations. He couldn’t think of the last time he had "home cooking" as he himself was not a good cook.

The place was a throw back, one part bar, and one part restaurant. There was TVs all over, with most on different sports and one getting done with the news. Randel stirred the spoon around and lost himself in thought.

"I have got to get ammo and weapons," Randel thought to himself, "I should have waited for them to finish the Gundam before I took it. I can’t fight an army with a beam saber, even if it is a Gundam. I should also look for survivors or someone who knows what actually happened, why the EES attacked the side."

Randel rubbed his back, a slight pain had developed there.

"Not used to the space," he chuckled.

Randel sighed heavily and wolfed down the rest of the stew, drank the last of the drink and paid the nice old man who served him. Randel rubbed his shoulder once again to ease its pain.

Randel continued his thoughts on his way back to the motel. "What do I do. There isn’t anything I can do about gathering info. The best I could do is go out to what is left of the side and look for clues. First I’ll need to hit a munitions camp to get ammo." His hart sank, more fighting loomed on the horizon. He didn’t realize how close.

The pilot approached his room and stopped suddenly. The door was a jar. He braced himself and opened the door, to his surprise three EES soldiers and their guns greeted him.

"Randel Sanders," one shouted commandingly, "You are under arrest for your terrorist attacks against the Extended Earth Sphere!"

End Part 2