Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mind of the Soldier ❯ Descent ( Chapter 9 )

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

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Chapter 9: Descent

Norman stood in front of his mirror, looking at his haggard face. He looked like an old man. The sides of his hair were really going from black to gray, and his eyes appeared to have deep wrinkles running from beneath them. He touched his face, and looked at the hair that was growing in as a beard. He decided a beard would look good on him, and left it alone. Norman was thinking in his mind of the time. He had seemed to lose track of the time. What month was it? July? August? He did not know. His mind seemed to be slipping from the rational world into his deep thoughts.

He stepped out of his bathroom, and put on the casual Oz uniform laid out between him. He glanced out his small, rectangular window, and saw it was cloudy and overcast. The weather seemed to reflect his feelings. Once he was dressed, he left his room. He had work to do today.

Norman walked out of the barracks into the base's courtyard. He was surprised to see the activity was low. Perhaps most of the graduates had been allowed to stay in Moscow. He thought back to his recent fear of the mobile suits, and how he had been terrified to pilot one again. Although it was only a couple of days ago, the memory seemed distant to him. He knew he was becoming what he had been before: The common warrior.

In the intelligence Room, Higgins was seen by the computer screens, talking to Brooks. Brooks noticed Norman and the colonel turned around to face him.

"Glad to see you here this morning, Norman." Higgins complimented. "I thought you might have gone AWOL on us."

"I am carrying through with my duty, sir." Norman responded.

"We've got everything ready for you and your people Norman, including an aerial transport. Who do you want to talk with you?"

"Brooks, Rodriguez, Kaneko, Armstrong, and Stadler."

"That's a good choice, Kaneko is a communications and electronics expert. Rodriguez is good with explosives."

"Do you know where Private Johnston is, sir?"

"She's in the library."

"Oh." Norman answered simply.

"Although I wouldn't recommend taking a woman into a place with men who haven't seen one in awhile."

"I'll take care of her." Norman responded.

"You have authorization to the weapons storage, Captain. You can arm your squad with standard equipment."

"Are the men in Ivdel fully equipped?"

"Yes, we have equipped them with large amounts of weapons, food, and other supplies for a makeshift base." The colonel paused for a moment, then reached into the breast pocket of his uniform and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to Norman.

"Give this to Captain Curtis when you get there. This is the paper officially relieving him of command of the forces there, and putting you in his place." Norman thought about this for a moment. He would be taking command over a large group. He had done it in the past, but had doubts about himself now.

"In understand, sir." Norman said.

"The transport will be ready for you whenever you're ready."

"What exactly is the transport?"

"A good helicopter. Don't worry, it's not a huey."

"Good to know."

"I want to let you know that my luck is with you on completing your mission. It's the only way we can win this war, before it starts."

"What is the guarantee that this won't start anything bigger?"

"Nothing. We're just acting on instinct." Acting on instinct. Norman thought. Sounded like something a grunt in the trenches would say.

"Do you think we are the bad guys, Norman?"

"Of course not, sir."

"Do you think we oppress people under tyranny."

"Never."

"Then why do you question your duty. Oz produces the best soldiers. Nobody can come face to face with them in a fight and expect to win." The colonel said. Norman noticed how much pride he had for Oz, the same sort of pride Norman once had, and still had. However, it seemed to be waning. Higgins talked as if the men were machines, that could kill mercilessly. Norman had seen it for real, though. They were humans, just like everyone else.

"I'm not questioning my orders, sir, I'm just a thinker." Higgins gave a brief smile at this, then raised his hand to salute Norman. Norman saluted him, and turned to leave, but then thought of something at the last minute.

"What happened to the General, sir?" Norman asked. Higgins seemed to freeze for a second.

"He went on a leave just after you came, and he passed away."

"Of what?"

"The coroner said natural causes, so I guess it was." Higgins moved face to face with Norman, who looked him straight in his eyes. Higgins' eyes were dull and drained of life. He looked like he had had enough.

"But Norman." Higgins said.

"Yes, sir?"

"He didn't die because he had too, he died because he wanted to. He didn't want to see where his life would be going. His life was Oz."


***

Norman sat in the lounge, slumped back in a chair, looking at the local news on the television screen. He was thinking over what the colonel had said. He died because he did not want to see. Was he that depressed? Norman barely knew Samuel Clarke, but could tell that he was a tired old man, one that looked as if he could make prophecies of the future. Then Norman heard a strange voice in the back of his head saying "We all die, some sooner than others." Norman wondered where the voice came from, but pushed it aside.

Norman looked to see Brooks come into the lounge, and he sat down beside him.

"I knew I would find you here. You look troubled." Norman sighed, allowing himself to turn toward Brooks.

"Just thinking, again, about how futile this seems." Brooks chuckled a bit.

"Norman the philosopher. You're a good man, Norman. Better than I am."
"Why would you say that?"

"Before I found Oz I was a punk kid who didn't give a shit about anything. I just did whatever the hell I wanted and I paid for it."

"With what?"

"I spent time in juvenile detention. I finally decided after awhile to clean myself up, and get some education. My parents were always poor, the couldn't give me anything. I found Oz, and they allowed me to be here today."

"That doesn't make me better."

"You always wanted to be like that. You always had hesitations towards war and conflict. Me? I thought it would be cool, until I saw for myself." There was a pause between them, and then Brooks tilted his head up toward the television.

"Well, if it isn't Vice Foreign Fuck head Richard Darlian." Brooks finished, and turned back to Norman. Norman laughed a little, and then looked up, to see footage of Darlian giving a speech.

"You know, yesterday at the hall, that man threatened me."

"What?"

"He told me that this mission is a mistake, and that he knew what Oz was doing, and some other bullshit that didn't make much sense."

"Doesn't surprise me. Everyone seems to think that guy is an advocate of peace, but really, he is a sadistic son-of-a-bitch. He'll do anything to get his point across." Brooks added.

"I noticed." Norman replied.

"You know he has a daughter?"

"Him? That's pretty hard to believe."

"She's maybe eleven or twelve years old."

"You think she'll walk in his footsteps?"

"I sure as hell hope not." Brooks quickly said in a high pitched voice. They both laughed and then a silence that was not awkward placed itself between them.

"I think you've been the only friend I could relate to, Tom."

"We've known eachother for only a couple of days."

"We'll end up knowing eachother for a lot longer." Brooks emphasized. "I can feel it." Yet again, a silence prevailed between them, then Brooks looked down at his feet as if he was embarrassed.

"Well, we better get ready." Brooks said, as he got up and exited to room.