Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mind of the Soldier ❯ Chapter 4

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Body





Chapter 4

The lounge was a nicely laid out room, with large, red chesterfields and accompanying chairs. There was a bar to the front, with a soldier in uniform attending it. There were also several stools right at the bar. Above the bar, mounted on the wall, was a large television display which was currently turned off. The smell of the room was a mix of fabric and alcohol.

Norman and Brooks sat at the main bar on the padded stools. In the far west of the room there was a table with three soldiers sitting around it. They were laughing, obviously having a good time. Lounge was cool and comfortable. Norman had calmed down and felt at ease here.

"Something to drink, gentlemen?" The bartender asked them.

"Yeah." Brooks started. "Give me a bottle of vodka and a glass with ice." He said to the bartender. The bartender went to the shelf and pulled off a bottle half filled with vodka. He also pulled down a glass off the shelf and went to a silver colored machine and filled it with ice. He placed it on the counter in front of Brooks.

"And for you, sir?" He asked Norman.

"Oh." Norman replied. He was a bit in a daze. "Do you have any Coca Cola?"

"Yes sir." The bartender entered a door into a back room. Norman saw Brooks smirking a little.

"Coca Cola? Come on, Tom. I can call you Tom when we are alone right?"

"Yes. I prefer that." Norman said dully.

"Anyway, you're in Russia now. They have some of the best vodka around here." Brooks said enthusiastically.

"I've given up drinking."

"Why is that?"

"Alcohol just tastes bad." At this Brooks broke out into a laugh, a long, hearty one.

"You're certainly a comedian aren't you?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly trying to be funny."

"I thought you were."
"I see." There was a moment of awkward silence between them. It seemed to Norman that Brooks was just trying to be friends with him. Norman turned as the bartender placed a can of Coca Cola in front of him with a glass of ice.

"Thank you." Norman said to the bartender. Norman opened the can and filled his glass. He realized how thirsty he actually was. He had not drunken anything on the plane. Norman saw Brooks fill his glass half full with the clear liquid. Norman smelled the familiar smell of hard liquor. Norman then took a small sip from his glass.

"You know Norman, you're a man of few words."

"Am I?"

"Sure. I mean, you didn't exactly talk much during that trip in the limousine or much during the meeting with the General. Most new recruits talk their fucking heads off."

"I'm not a new recruit. I've been in this business for a numerous amount of years. I've learned to keep my mouth shut." Norman said bluntly, taking a sip of his soda.

"How old exactly are you?" Brooks asked. Norman looked at him, smiling a little.

"Is it any of your goddam business?" Both of them laughed a bit.

"I think me and you could be good friends." Brooks said, still laughing. Norman suddenly solemn.

"As long as one of us doesn't die." Brooks also turned solemn.

"What happened, bad experiences?"

"In war, that's all you get." Norman said, sipping his soda again. Brooks took a big gulp of his vodka, then sighed.

"You know..." He started, then trailed off. "You know that there is no winner in war."

"Of course, there are only losers. We're just doing our job though."

"How did you get started in the business anyway?" Brooks asked.

"I joined when Oz was still rather new. I was only a year out of high school, and didn't know where I was going with my life." Norman took a large sip from his glass, feeling the burn from the carbonate.

"Why not? I can tell you are smart."

"I didn't have any parents." Norman said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"What happened?"

"My parents were killed in a terrorist bombing 18 years ago. They were diplomats. That's all I'm going to say right now." Norman felt agitated.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Brooks said. Norman thought he sounded genuinely sympathetic.

"If you want the exact truth to why I joined, James, I'll tell."

"Go ahead." He said, emptying his glass of alcohol.

"I thought that by joining Oz, I could prevent things like that from happening."

"Have you ever done that?"

Norman paused for a moment.

"No." He said. His head suddenly felt heavy.

"That's exactly what it's like, Tom."

"It's a little too late to tell me that now." Norman said.

"I just came in there, thinking I'd be able to make an impact on the world. Turns out, that's not what being a soldier is about."

"I felt the same way at first too." Brooks said thoughtfully. "This life isn't all that bad though."

"Maybe not, but it's hard to live with the past."

"Were you in the Alliance wars?"

"It started two years after I joined Oz." Norman replied. He felt unhappy again.

"I sometimes think," Brooks paused. "That we are on a gigantic chessboard that God is playing. We just happen to be the pawns on that chessboard."

"That's probably true." Norman smiled a bit. "We lead a life. Our lives are short, and they come to an end. For soldiers it usually comes sooner than others. The reason for that is because we are trained to kill."

"Everyone dies, Tom." Brooks said. "I sometimes think we soldiers are totally fucked up. But, when I look at it, I find that the whole damn world is fucked up."

"That's all too true. It's not like it should have been." Norman added.

"What should it have been?"

"A world where I have a wife." They both laughed at this. Norman had not been able to laugh like this in a long time.

"Have you ever had anyone special?" Brooks asked Norman.

"Never. I was always the silent type in school." There was another pause in their conversation. Norman still heard the soldiers behind them.

"Can I ask you something, Tomas?" Brooks said as he poured more vodka into his glass. Norman had emptied his glass of Cola.

"Ask."

"Why did you look like you were gonna puke when the General mentioned mobile suits." Norman was shocked that he was asked this. He did not want to tell anyone why.

"Well-it's-it's..."

"Complicated? Can you explain?"

"I'd prefer not to."

"You might feel better if you get it off your chest." Norman took a deep breath and looked straight at Brooks.

"Two years ago, I was on a routine test flight back when I was stationed to a base in Italy."

"Well, go on."

"It seems as if the mobile Aires unit I was flying hadn't been inspecting in awhile. The engine failure happened quickly and caught me off guard. The thing went down with me inside it. I crashed landed, and ended up having my clavicle nearly shattered, along with other injuries. I spend 6 months is rehab, not being able to move my neck for the longest time, as they did surgery after surgery to repair it. Ever since then, I've never stepped foot in a mobile suit."

Brooks held a shocked expression as he stared at Norman. Norman had just told his little secret.

"I feel really sorry for you Tom. It must have been hell."

"You don't need to be sorry, it's in the past now."

"Yeah, you don't wanna live off your past too often. I think you do that too much Tom."

"Probably."

"You know you'll have to pilot those suits again right?"

"Yes." Norman was feeling uncomfortable.

"I think you can get back into it. It's sort of like riding a bike, especially for an experienced guy like yourself."

Norman did not reply. Instead, he sat there, deep in thought.

"Anyway, it was good talking to you, Tom. I have to go and sort a few things out. I'll see you tomorrow for our assignment."

"Take care, now." Norman said. Brooks got up and left the room. Norman sat there for a long while later, thinking.