Duty, 23: Private Party
21 Dec 2022Meowers
Dammit... A friggin' good reminder that I shouldn't do booze... Sssshit, that's going to be a long one. Woke up in the messed up bed... And my head is literally falling apart. I remember waking up earlier, a few hours ago, but I've been in no state to record anything, I remember... I went to the bathroom to hug my gurgling friend and get rid of whatever stuff I had in my stomach... And then I've got a couple of these cheap fast-food sandwiches from the fridge... And some painkillers, enterosorbents and neuroleptics... Crap... And, even before that, it was... Twilight. Morning? Evening? Argh... I woke up in a grass field near the hangars and made my way back, to my quarters. Damn. Maybe I should've go to Mion and tell her about that crap, but, uh, too far away... And I was, like, programmed, 'return', 'return', 'return and lock your door'... That shit...
So... I thought it will be nice to have a walk outside, waiting for Matthew's return, and, damn, I really had to limit myself to that little square between the living blocks and the hangars. But, uh, no, I've sat there for an hour or so and walked to that refugee camp, dammit. Like, it would be good to look how they're doing, and, if there are somebody awake and outside, to ask what we could do for them...
I was walking along the hangars, the first line, hangars on my right side and an empty field with tall grass on my left, and, well, suddenly, a light above my head went off. Tried to reach my communicator to use its screen backlight... When I felt a hand trying to get into my holster. Instinctively, I grabbed the wrist, pulled it strongly towards me, turned to face the attacker and landed a heavy kick on his chest, thrusting him away. Then I pulled my pistol out and tried to target the vague silhouette I've seen in the darkness... But, the kick was enough. The attacker met the light pole and fell on the ground, groaning in pain. With pistol in hand, I went to look at him, and then three more showed up from around the corner. In front of me. And... Another two got out from the grass. Pointing their rifles at me.
Two bog-standard shitty rifles, one generic crappy pistol, and one rubbish knife. I'd say, their life expectancy could be less than a minute... If only I had my armour and my rifle. It all was stored in Marshmallow's cockpit. Settlement is friendly and the local security is okay... Or... Should I say 'I thought they were'? Damn Thargoid lickers made so many things complicated...
"Who are you and what do you want from me?", I asked, barely expecting an answer. All I was trying to do is to use the darkness as a cover, reaching the emergency switch on the comm... But, damn, they knew about it. Riflemen were holding me at gunpoint while others rushed forward, grabbing both my hands, relieving me of my pistol and comm.
"You want to be silent and come with us. Otherwise, we start killing. But, you have an option."
Had to comply. You know, getting shot by those dimwits weren't on my to-do list. They blindfolded me and pressed a gun against my back, so we walked for a few minutes... Turning left and right chaotically... Then they pushed me into one of those hangar crew electric cars and drove... Somewhere. It wasn't a hangar. When they uncovered my eyes, I saw... A room. An office maybe. I don't know. The room had no windows. But, it wasn't a basement. A ground floor. I heard them talking about what to do with my stuff, and, well, it has been a weight off my shoulders to hear they were planning on returning everything. Except pistol ammo, obviously. They wanted to leave no clue and no trace... Even promised not to hurt me, even if I've knocked one of them hard, they had to carry that poor bastard all the way to that place. Hah.
But, uh... I guessed the only way to get out alive was to comply with their demands. Sick Thargoid kissers. Couldn't be anybody else. So, they tried to get me drunk... And, in the end, they succeded, hah. One of them was filling that glass again and again with some strong shit, second was sitting nearby, pointing his rifle at me and telling me to drink... And the third one was talking to me. So... I've got a recording of that now. Camera was placed on the table, pointed at me, so I couldn't find any face other than mine on the footage...
The one talking to me was playing some kind of weird psychological game. First, while I've been still okay more or less, he tried to throw some rubbish speeches at me, about us, AXDF, endangering lives here. And lives of all people around. So, according to him, we weren't protecting humanity, but condemning it to extinction in a brutal war, blah blah blah... And then he was asking me, like, is that true or not. Bollocks. Heard enough of that crap. All those speeches and questions were made to have only one 'correct' answer. So I was telling him go to hell. Though... Was it more like building a ground for the next step? So then... He tried to get me emotional. When I was, like, starting to get a bit woozy. Told some nonsense about 'my dear ones', 'loved ones', my 'future', and how the war can possibly impact it... Idiot. You've got a wrong person. I have none. I'm just a line in the roster. However, seems like he got that right, and turned to drawing some mushy pictures about me living peacefully, with a family, and a home, and all that... 'When the war ends'. Shit. That was close. Had me remembering my talks with Mion... However, though, these were just talkings about... Something that felt so unrealistic... But, why unrealistic... Ah, goddamn, it's just me. I have a big cross drawn on my forehead already, and long ago. I just... Exist. Nothing more.
But, yeah, he totally overdone. He knew nothing about me. Like, I have an emotional range of a brick. And that picturesque crap was nowhere near what I thought of myself and my life, even in best scenarios... I have, kind of, a block there, in that place of my mind. Like, 'I don't need that', 'it won't bring me happiness', 'I need to value other matters'. Developed that thing to hold off a bit longer against those damned downward thought spirals... And his shiny polished-turd pictures of me enjoying that conventional-happiness-stuff were hitting that mind block again and again, returning me to the reality. Yeah, it was... Painful a bit. And it still hurts. There, in that room, I was holding on. I knew I had to. And it's easier to do when it has a purpose. I knew he tried to make me agree, and all that was a cheap manipulation. He's my enemy, and I should fight. If not with weapons or fists, then with my mind. It's me or him. But... When I returned to my place, a place where I can be alone and drop my guard... Where I had nothing to do to keep myself busy, to think of 'doing the good things'; and I was goddamn intoxicated...
Well. It hit me. Hard. One of the reasons I don't drink alcohol anymore. Shit can happen. Not feeling stuff doesn't mean I can't process stuff. And, when drunk, I resort to more... Radical conclusions and shorter chains of logic. Irony is... I hate when somebody sees me like that, however, it's goddamn dark to be alone. So... I've spent a couple of hours prior to recording that... Just, sitting on the floor and gazing at the goddamn empty wall. Smoking one after another. Waiting for the meds to start doing their stuff. Kicking the thoughts back and forth in my head, in a defensive way. And all of them were pointing at my... Irreparability. Telling... No, yelling at me, that I've gone too far already. That I'm beyond rescue. That I'm doomed to the pointless, meaningless existence. That everything repeats, and will repeat, even if in other shape, because... It's just me. It's the way my life goes on and will go on. And I'm trapped in that endless circle, and there's only one way out. And it's not the inability to reach and feel that 'common human happiness' that hurts me the most. But... Why does anybody need such a broken mess when there are millions of okay and shiny people around? Why would anybody see a meaning in me? And, shit, I'm over 30 already, people in that age already have their lives... And whoever and whatever they want to see in their lives. I'm too lost and too late. That's what literally short-circuits any of my thinking... Being totally meaningless and stuck in that despair loop for ages, just, looking at people who have a life, realising that it's something that I can't achieve anymore. Running. Always being ready to lose whatever I've managed to build. Always on my guard. And that friggin' shit... It knows all my thoughts, all my ways to justify each another day of living, and it twists everything, connects to that conclusion... Waiting until I give up.
Shit... Ah, I guess I just had to speak all that out... But, khm, at least that's the reason why he couldn't break me. It takes a lot of effort to untangle that shit... Silver lining, hah.
So, I can hardly remember what was happening next, as I was getting totally smashed, but, hah, I've got the recording they gave me. Argh, goddamn, I look so stupid when I'm drunk and gloomy. That's even funny. Well... At least he'd shown some of his cards. He knew someone was on their tail... Peter. Yeah. I knew it was about his investigation, I knew it all the way. But... He didn't try to convince me that I should give them the name. At least not anymore. Was that drinking contest aimed at making me question what I'm doing, to undermine the ideas I have? If that, then he lost even before the start. He knew nothing. He wasn't a total idiot, however... At one moment, I thought he'll resort to cheap threats, and spilled out something like 'come on, you shit, kill me, end all this, I'm just a pilot and another one will take my place, you will change nothing', and, hm... Maybe it seemed like a clue for him.
He tried to pull my self-view strings or whatever... By telling me that I'm actually a good person, but I've got misguided and my efforts could really mean something to people, and I could do more good if I 'understand that peace is paramount'; and I'll have a better life in that their 'peace', blah blah blah... Have to admit, it was really close again. I want this war to stop. But... Not by surrendering. I want this my head shit to stop. But not by running away from it. Maybe I was too drunk already to react somehow, I was sitting and nodding... Or just rocking my head back and forth, who knows... So, listening to that rubbish now, I can't help but say he was right about some stuff. About me searching for a meaning for whatever I'm doing and trying to make this world a better place, rejecting my self on the way, and so on... However, there were some things that gave his bullshit away perfectly. He told me that the sabotage wasn't 'their' action, they too have some 'misunderstandings' within their ranks, he couldn't stop them blah blah blah... But, now, watching the recording, I clearly see his attempts to win my favour that way, trying to look 'humane', 'not like those bastards'. Back then... I was drunk. And he hit so many of my mental blocks and barriers that it made me auto-reject everything, within. I was, like, 'ah, okay, whatever'. I knew it was a manipulation.
Maybe he tried to make me give Peter's name away. Maybe not. I still think it was done to make me question my position in AXDF. And, that recording... It was copied onto my comm. Deliberately. He wanted me to watch it again and again. What a bullshit. He said, if we won't stop, he will 'cease trying' to control 'those madmen' who sabotaged the ships, and 'the sabotages will be the last thing to worry about'. And that I should 'get this person out of the picture' if I care about other people, military or not. Like, he still tried to minimise human casualties. Blah blah. Damn hypocrite. Crappy actor. I don't believe it. They're working together. And, of course, he said that I shouldn't talk about that night, but, because he's so blah-blah-blah-good and ready to cooperate, I'm still alive and unharmed.
Bullshit again. If I were somehow harmed, or lost, or found dead, they would be totally doomed. Hunted both by AXDF and by local authorities. And crushed in a week. Sadly, it works both ways, so I couldn't just sober up, get better, grab my rifle and start mowing down every moron whose face has been captured on security cam footage the day they decided to block the command centre doors.
And, uh... It will really make Mion mad. I don't want to make her mad or sad. And, hm... All that situation... Made me think of her. A part of me wants to go and tell her everything. Because she... Understands me. Another part says it could be dangerous for her. And I'm glad he didn't mention her... He doesn't know we're friends, apparently. The last thing I want is to put her into even more danger.
Anyway, well, he has no idea about my past, ummm, alcohol experience, hah, seen worse... And also I'm a, kind of, weighty human being... So I was looking almost reasonable until I totally passed out after what looked like a heckload of their drinks. It always worked that way, hah, back then parents never caught me, if I was still able to stand straight... So, they had no other choice but to untie me and drop me off near the hangars, making everything look like 'a pilot got drunk'. Before anyone discovers my absence and start searching. Or was it their plan? Load me with bullshit, record it on camera, try to break me and make me cry, and then let me go? Uh... No idea.
But, still, I'd better keep shush about that. Even to Peter or Mion. At least for now. Stakes are too high. Matthew's wing returned when I've been... on a walk. It wasn't really necessary to wait for them, but I guess he's surprised by me not doing it. In a 'human', not a 'commanding officer' way.
Just another battle that I have to figure out how to fight...