CHAPTER 17
THE PLAN
The next day, Nox took the liberty of going to one of the captain’s office’s during breakfast, and told the secretary mudokon there about his appeal.
“You’d best go right on through.” He told Nox, gesturing at a door to Nox’s left from behind the desk.
Nox knocked on the door, and after no reply, went in. the captain was talking on the phone, and gave Nox a signal to sit down at the seat in front of his desk as he spoke.
“Yeah, well get one of Dripik’s juniors to handle it, we’re a bit swamped here…yeah…yeah, well I told them that…yeah…of course, yeah…ok…gotta’ go…ok, bye.” He whittered as Nox sat down, then slamming the phone onto the hook. “How can I help you son?”
“Err, I’ve launched an appeal for my own case about not receiving a militaristic promotion during the ‘D&M’ war.”
The captain just stared blankly at Nox.
“I was hoping I’d receive a promotion for it.”
“And…what do you want me to do about it?”
“Well…there’s less paperwork involved if you just give me the promotion, ‘aint there?”
“Oh I see!” The captain exclaimed. “Who’s told you that? Some buddy of yours?! We don’t give out promotions to everyone you know!” He said bitterly.
“Hey!” Nox yelled, feeling his old friend, anger, begin to slowly bubble up inside of him again. “I survived the whole war! This is the least you could do! Wouldn’t you prefer less paperwork?!”
the captains face-tentacles twitched spitefully.
“In your case…I’d gladly do more paperwork than let you become anything more than a private.” He said nastily.
Blow yer top, sonny! Heh heh heh…
The anger was growing worse, but Nox caged it, and let go. He thought about the captain of his platoon during the ‘D&M’ war, the one with the Clakker accent, and wondered if he was still here, as one of the remaining captains of Slig Barracks.
“Where did all the good captains go?” He asked, knowingly winding the captain up. “That one with the Clakker accent, he served with me during the war. Can I speak with him?”
“You mean Farlin. He died in the war; mortar round. Seems your luck’s ran out.” The captain barked.
Another one down…
“Well,” Nox began, standing up to leave. “I spose this has been a waste of my time.”
“Yeah…yeah that’s it! Just go! Your little dreams been shattered!” He yelled insanely at Nox as he reached the door, savoring the chance to belittle another soldier.
Nox reached the door, and although he wanted to put his fist through it, didn’t, and calmly opened it, stepped outside and closed it again, leaving the captain shouting behind the door. It felt good to keep his cool while the captain lost his head.
Nox didn’t know what the secretary mudokon was thinking, but he certainly gave Nox a strange look as he performed a double take between him and the noisy door.
Time passed; days went by, soon turning into weeks, only highlighted by small activities happening here and there on Nox’s very own timeline. His sanity losing its small and slippery grip.
One afternoon, after work at 10:01 pm according to Nox’s watch, he was doing his usual visit of the mudokon child in the old warehouse, when Nox stumbled across a loaded pistol. It was heavy and large, much to a sligs appeal.
“Have you been playing with this?!” Nox asked the child, worried that he may have been a bad carer.
The kid looked at the gun and smiled.
“Yeah, a slig left it here yesterday, not long after you went!” The child told Nox happily, then noticing the worry on his face. “I hid, though.” It added, quickly.
“Do you know what this is?!” Nox asked, slightly hysterical at the prospect that the kid could of blown its own brains out accidentally.
“Yeah. It’s a gun, isn’t it?” The child said, innocently.
Innocent…
“Yeah! And what do guns do?” Nox asked, attempting to teach the kid a lesson.
“Err…kill?”
“Yes! So why were you playin’ with it, Lage?”
“Sorry uncle. I was bored.” The child replied sadly, bowing its head.
“Hey,” Nox started, fussing the top of the mudokon child’s head. “Don’t worry about it.” This was received with a glowing smile.
Nox proceeded to sit against the wall as the lights flickered on automatically, and the kid played with some stones on the floor just ahead of Nox.
The kid then ran to a corner of the warehouse, and ran back to Nox with something. It was an elum-skin holster for the pistol.
“Here you go, uncle. He left this as well.” Lage said.
“He sure did leave a lot o’ stuff! You sure he ‘aint gonna’ come back?” Nox asked Lage.
“I heard him talking about storing loads of guns or something. What does he mean, uncle?”
Nox groaned. “Sounds like he’d gonna’ start storin’ illegal weapons an’ ammo here. Don’t you go touchin’ any of ‘em again, you hear?”
“Yeah, uncle. Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry until you do somethin’!” Nox joked. Lage’s mood lifted slightly.
Nox attached the holster onto his robotic leg, and then looked at the pistol more closely. It was an MK 7 Magnum; one of the largest pistols in the market…especially the black market. It could hold eight bullets, and had a revolving mechanism rather than a clip. Nox placed the gun into his newly acquired holster, and looked at Lage happily playing with some stones again.
Not long after, Nox left the child again, and headed for ‘The Rotten Barrel’ pub. Another session of drinking.
Mid session, the slig lieutenant called Nox’s name, and invited him over to the bar from the table he was sitting at with Stollin and Wrask. He did so.
“How’d it go? I don’t see no stripes?” He asked, drink in hand.
“Ah,” Nox started in a depressed tone. “Not so well.”
“Didn’t he give it yeh? Jeez! And I thought they were lazy!” He replied, slightly stunned.
Nox just took another swig of his drink.
“You know, they’ll have to do twice as much paperwork now –”
“He said he’d gladly do it to avoid giving me any type of promotion.” Nox droned in a monotone voice of someone nearing the edge of cuckoo land. Another swig.
“Fuck!…That’s harsh, man.” The lieutenant said, putting one hand on Nox’s shoulder, then taking it off again. Nox stared at the bar.
“You still ‘aint told me yer name.” Nox asked, still in monotone, not really caring, but giving a show.
“Oh,” The lieutenant held his hand out to Nox. “Kanna.”
Nox shook it and said, still not looking at him. “Nox. Were you in the ‘D&M’ war?”
“Err, no sir.”
“No need to call me ‘sir’, ‘aint nothin’ but a private.”
“…No, I didn’t.” He replied again, this time unsure.
“I didn’t think so…you seem too good, too genuine.”
“Thank you sir!”
Nox tutted at the mention of ‘sir’, Kanna just looked down for a moment, seemingly embarrassed. They both had another swig, Nox finishing his own.
“How old are you?” Nox asked, putting his empty glass down onto the bar.
“…Five…yeah, that’s right. Five years old.” He answered.
“Huh, when I was your age I’d started fightin’ in the war. Worst thing I ever did…not that I had a choice.” Nox then turned to look down the bar, tying to seek out the bartender mudokon.
“Hey, pal!” He yelled upon sighting his target. “Can I get another here please?!”
“I’ll be with yeh in a mo!” The mudokon yelled back, trying to step between two rowdy sligs.
Nox set his sights down onto the bar again.
“If I were you,” He told Kanna. “I wouldn’t bother with low-life’s like me, or my chums. The only thing we’re good for is bullet fodder. And when the time comes, I’ve pissed off enough people to guarantee it.”
“No! Its people like you that I need to learn from!” Kanna attempted to persuade. “If that’s the case then what am I doin’ here?! I may as well shoot myself for all the good I’m worth! I gotta’ learn in case the time comes when I have to use my brain and trigger finger!”
“Your right!” Nox said suddenly, making Kanna jump. “Your fucking right! I gotta’…I gotta’ make a plan…what am I doing with myself?! Its now or fucking never!”
And with that, Nox left the bar, pushed his way out the door, got outside and made his way to his bunker, breathing in the cold, night air.
What yeh gonna’ do Nox? Eh? Eh?! Jump off the walkway? Blow yerself up? What?!
Nox eventually reached #049 bunker, and found that no one was inside, yet. He walked briskly over to his locker, pulled out his rifle, loaded it with one rifle bullet, and put it under his face-tentacles.
It’ll only take one bullet, sonny! Just one…just one incey, wincey bullet…heh heh…
“Come on Nox, come on…you ‘aint no coward Nox…come on.” He muttered to himself, breathing steadily growing faster.
Do it Nox! Do it!! What are yeh hangin’ around for?! Just fuckin’ DO IT!!
His breathing grew faster and faster, soon panting at the prospect of his suicide.
What about Lage, you selfish bastard?! What’s that poor kid gonna’ do?! And what's some slig gonna’ do to the poor kid if it gets found out?! Eh!!
Fuck the kid!! Just do it!! DO IT!!
No, you cant Nox! Your not getting’ rid o’ me that easy!!
BANG BANG, YOUR FUCKING DEAD!! NOW DO IT!!
“SHIT!!” Nox yelled, and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
-----
Tell me what you think folks!
|