Pawn - A Second Rituals Side Story
by Maaya
Standard disclaimers apply
Anne's POV
A couple of people have asked me about the point
of writing this side story since it doesn't do much to the Rituals
story line. There's four reasons for it;
- It *does* move the story. You'll see it in this chapter if you look
closely and it will hopefully become more apparent in following parts
of Rituals.
- The idea hit me when I had written part 7 that more people than
Relena + the g-boys must have done something to try and make things
happen in the war. Just because Rel and company were the successful
ones doesn't mean they were the *only* ones.
- I've always had this wierd sympathy for people in stories/movies
that are just shown in one scene or something. Take all those victims
in Titanic for instance. Not half the people on board even say anything
in the movie, but I found myself sobbing because of a family that
couldn't find their way out. They were on screen for about three seconds.
- I enjoyed writing it. (which for me is the most important reason)
***
Some people say I am a colonyshit – that someone
like me shouldn’t be in OZ at all. Some people accept me gladly
with a slap on the back or (unfortunately) rump. It is almost disgusting
to see how their confused minds are in conflict – how their
beliefs and ideals can be warped up by madmen’s plans in order
to start a war.
It is not the colonists that people are supposed to hate –
it’s the politicians.
Sadly, it is too visible that I am a colonist. My pale skin and hair
betrays me. I have no idea why the leaders of OZ let someone so obviously
colonist into their organization – but I guess they were just
desperate to get a computer specialist to care too much about my origins.
But truth to be told so would this mission be much easier if everyone
could be like the confused pigs that hate me at first sight, it would
be so much easier if people could stop trying to become friends with
me. I can’t afford to feel pity, they are all my enemies and
I would prefer if things could stay like that.
It is quite possible I might have to kill someone from here one day
– someone I have shared meals with and maybe talked to. People
who’ve tried to make me laugh . . . people who’ve . .
.
Gods but I have to stop thinking like that.
“Anne Oleson?”
I stood up a little straighter. “Yes, sir?”
The lieutenant came walking – sorry, bulking – towards
me as if he was using the large stomach to get forwards. I’d
never seen him before but can tell him off as a ‘hater’
immediately. There’s a special glint of coldness in his eyes
I recognize from so many others who have thrown taunts towards my
back. It is people like him I both wish and don’t wish the building
was filled of.
He stepped up only a foot or two away from me and eyed me closely
for a couple of seconds. I could see the wheels in his head start
working and spell out the letters C-O-L-O-N-I-S-T for him. I stared
back at him until a drip of sweat fell into his eye and forced him
to blink. It caused to make him snap out of the quiet mode.
“You have guard-duty from nine to four tonight. Change of shifts.”
I knew this already, it was after all I, myself, who had made the
changes in the program after all in order to get to be lonely in the
computer room tonight. It was my mission to find the upgraded files
and take them back to the headquarters. Well, and destroy the computer
base too, of course. No one should ever find the files useful more
than me and the gang.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I made a slightly disappointed face
so that the lieutenant would think I was disdainful. “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t do that face. Accept your orders.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good.” He stalked *ahem* bulked away to pester some
other unfortunate subordinate. I pitied whoever the victim was going
to be.
“Man, he’s got something of the size of China up his
ass!”
I didn’t have to turn around to see who the owner of the new
voice was. It was Dak. Dark-skinned, very . . . cheerful guy. One
of those I wished wouldn’t be as nice as he was.
“No.” I disagreed and shook my head. “But his head
is sadly very empty and thinks with his dick instead – like
all guys.”
“No offence to me, I hope!” He laughed out loud and gave
my back a slap that would have served to make me fall forwards if
I hadn’t caught myself with a hand on the wall. Dak is like
that. “Come on and let’s get some food before the other
pigs take it all.”
“Meaning you is a pig as well?” I wondered half-heartedly
as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards the cafeteria.
The annoying thing with Dak is that I tried to make him go away by
insulting him. It was a tactical error on my part – I never
knew guys got impressed with girls who had potty mouths. He began
to respect and probably like me instead. Feh.
“Do you enjoy making me suffer?” I asked sarcastically
and pulled out of his grip to take a plate and load it with sticky
rice and fish-stew. “You obviously like to pain me with your
company.”
He shrugged and went off to fix use a place to sit.
An ‘evil’ soldier is a man with a different belief .
. . . and a gun. That is the reason to why I can never like Dak the
way he likes me. He believes in the force of guns as much as he believes
in OZ – and he doesn’t realize what’s wrong with
that.
Don’t get me wrong – I like Dak, I really do –
but he would never understand me the way I need him to understand
me.
OZ and the Federation killed my family and I will never forgive them
for that. I know Dak likes me ‘that’ kind of way because
. . . well . . . I’m not blind. I’ve seen the glances
he throws my way, felt how his hands linger on my body when he touches
me. I have no idea how he managed to fall flat on his bachelor stomach
because of me.
Now he was showing me to a table with, fortunately, two places free
in the opposite directions of each other. We sat down and ate in silence
for a while, which is strange. A silent Dak is just wrong, in the
same way as a smirking Dak was dangerous.
I looked at Dak to say something dry (and probably not so nice) to
make him start talking, but the words got lost somewhere along the
way to my tongue when I saw his face and eyes.
They had turned from joking and cheerful to subdued and . . . nervous.
But that was impossible – Dak was not one to be, act, or feel
nervous. It is just not in his nature. So like already stated, my
mouth snapped shut and I settled with waiting for him to venture what
he was going to say on his own. Knowing Dak, it would probably not
take very long.
“Uhh . . . yeah . . . I was going to ask you – could
you come to the cafeteria after your guard duty? I know it’s
going to be late and all, but . . . I need to talk to you.”
I think I sighed, if not aloud, then at least mentally. I was almost
sure he wanted to confess his feelings to me and hoped I would be
answering them. Poor naïve fool. Taking a deep breath, I prepared
to tell him exactly what I felt, or rather, didn’t feel.
The loud sound of the alarm made my mouth snap shut once again. It
was emergency training. Throwing Dak a helpless look, I stood up and
went with the stream of soldiers going towards their own place to
be.
It was the last time I ever saw him.
***
The downloading-data-part of the mission would have been easy if
I hadn’t been so nervous. A lump in my throat prevented any
deeper breathing and I didn’t dare to swallow because of the
risk to throw up. My fingers were sweaty when they typed the password,
el-two, and logged in. I am the only one who knows the password I
chose to honour my colony.
I would maybe get killed this night. If any officer found me in my
attempt to escape, I would most certainly be killed. Killed. Death.
I was afraid of death.
Even the fever-like trance my mind was in, so did the thought of
Dak refused to leave me. I knew I would never be able to speak to
him again and he would remember me as the woman he loved that was
actually a spy. Oh God . . .
The info was finally secured and saved on my disc. I took it out
and deleted the files on the computer, before placing out the bombs.
Nothing would be left of the computer room, even if I was caught
or not.
Still, Dak was on my mind when I unlocked the door and opened it.
I saw a kid – shorter than me and with short, messy hair. He
looked surprised; as surprised as I felt as he scrambled for something
inside his green tank top.
Then, a pain bloomed in my neck and throat. I couldn’t breathe.
*******
The End
*******
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