Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Rituals ❯ Pawn - A Side Story ( Chapter 9 )

Umm - remember me? Maaya, the author of Rituals? Sorry for the long wait.

I bought the American version of The Ring yesterday and I am . . . . a little disappointed. Though it was really good and I am completely scared shitless (the horse part was never in Ringu and it was *scary*) so is the Japanese version a hundred times better. What's up with the ending for example; (SPOILER WARNING) Rachel was pushed into the well by a moving TV?!

*ahem*

I'm sorry for the delay with this story. RL life has been very busy and school-work overwhelms me. >,< It's hard to get inspiration while knowing one has to learn hydrocarbons and structural formulas.

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Pawn - A Rituals Side Story in an OC's POV by Maaya

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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.

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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.

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The End

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I hate to kill Anne because I am rather fond of her but . . . she was doomed before I even began to write the side story, for obvious reason.