When Death Comes Calling
Or "Duo Why are There Bodies in my Closet?"

It was nine o'clock and I sat in front of my television, watching
or not watching the blurs of color dance across the screen and feeling the
stresses of a long humiliating day drain away from my weary limbs.
Today I lost my job, career and promise of a long and stable
future with the OZ military division.

The court martial proceedings took most of the time. Oz had a way
of turning everything into a ritual. and when they let me go, they did it
with lots of speeches and arm waving. I suppose I was lucky, I wasn't
sent for prison for what I did, but then again, I had family in high
places and my father was able to convince the officials involved in the
matter that I cracked after months of strain due to the war.

The War.

In a way I was thankful. I hatted my job  as a  Oz Academy
officer(fancy name for MP). I just did it to satisfy my parents and my 
heart wasnt really in it.  If I had a choice, I would have chose the
more conventional job of police officer and dealt with L2s local 
sludge. But with martial law, police were soldiers and so, my career
took a left hand turn. One in which my parents were very fond of.
In the end, it was a job I planned to quit after the war and use
the experience in local law enforcement.

That was shot to hell now....

I sighed in frustration and grabbed the TV remote. For twenty
meaningless minuets I channel surfed...

There wasnt even a good episode of Captain Zion..... Life

So did the war. And I was job less.

Who would hire a ex OZ MP? One who couldnt even get out of the
training academy without breaking the loyalty codes.

Well at least, I would no longer have to battle with my conscience
concerning my job. I supposed I lost my enthusiasm with being an soldier
after having to gas rioters outside of the academy last month. Most of
them were students, and the officials thought some were armed. It was
thought  by our commanding officer it would be good training for the
senior class to repress the riot in a neat and orderly fashion.

I cringed just as I switched on an image from a new cast.  A field
of bodies lay scattered over the screen as a woman cheerfully announced a
devastating death toll with the surrender of the supposed enemy...
I bit my lip recalling myself wading though the crowd of young
people with guns and gas bombs.

They were panicked and fighting broke out. In the end, fifty kids
died and the seniors hauled off the rest to prisons to never be heard from

I didnt recall finding the supposed weapons rumored to be in the

I killed seven men that day, and never forgave myself for it.

The Officer in charge knew it was a blood bath, but quickly
repressed the information so the official story was in favor of the heroic class
and their quick thinking commanding officer. He got a promotion, I got a
job at the academy and a metal for leading my recruits to victory.
It was then I realized there was something wrong with the people I
was working with

I had sympathy for the colonies and their revolution, but never
had the guts to let my parents know or leave the job that was destroying me.
Instead, I convinced myself I was being a good cop(or officer) and
helping those around me by maintaining peace. That was until I met

My minds eye imaged a boy with long light brown hair and a deep
violet eyes. His face was sad and drawn with a darkness and burden I could only
imagine. Yet some how, the young man was idealistic, charming and rather
rough around the edges. I took a liking for him instantly.

He was one of the only honest people I had met in my life.
An honest thief. I supposed it was my destiny to get tangled up in
the life of the kind of criminals I swore to protect the world from. But he
made me realized I was the criminal.

Ok, he was a POW, and I should have turned him in. But it was
true, my blindness and the blindness of my colleagues had made people like him.
Dont ask me why.

I let him get the best of me and escape.
Simple enough, I believed in what he was fighting for.
I to was a rebel at heart, the old regime had to fall. He gave me
the courage to do it.

I shrugged and kicked my feet up on the table, wondering what I
could do to remedy my unemployed situation.

Assisting a rebel spy didnt look go on a resume.

Even if it was momentary insanity.

After all he was a child..... And I didn't kill children.

Not after the student rebellion... Never again....
I took a good long swig of my Jack Daniels and stared at the
golden liquid swirling in the bottle. Hilde Shreiberker, you are a fuck
up... I dont care if he was cute, you fucked up... Helping spys is no way to
meet men...

Humm, and what did I get in return? He vanished into the sun set,
smile and all. Most likely hes murdering more Oz officers (guys I probably
recruited) or even stealing weapons.... Did I care?

Not really, but I wished him well. You dont meet many honest
criminals these days.

Well, I could never be a police officer now.

I placed the bottle down with a thump and listened to the clatter
echo thought the room. I was lucky there were no witnesses left alive... If
they knew what really happened, theyd kill you... Damn. It was all
true, I did lie to to them. I said I couldnt kill him and let him escape.
I lied  about betraying my fellow officers and murdering them, in
an attempt to assist my young rebel. I claimed he killed them and the
inquiry believed me. After all I was a generals daughter, why would she

I hated bureaucracy.

Thats right Hilde, why? I asked out loud.

The phone rang and I stared at it wondering if I should bother
answering it. It was mother no doubt calling to comfort me and nag me
for getting soft.... They had a host of psychiatrist to examine me. All
I needed to do was to go home and declare myself and my life a failure.
Hilde, its mom, youre father and I are very worried.... We love
you sooo... The voice droned.

Yes, I've heard all this before... I thought drunkenly. I love you
too mom, but I afraid I cant lie to you anymore....  Id pretend I
wasnt home and hope shed hang up.

She did after three minutes of begging. it was very unlike me to
ignore anyone. in fact, I w as often the perky sort who loved chattering and
having a good time.

Well, that was, when my life was organized.

Damn you Duo Maxwell.... I dont know whether to thank or kill

The door buzzed..

I side glanced it and wondered if I should risk answering it in my
drunken state. With my luck it was more MPs coming to question me about
the spy Maxwell. Sadly, in my state, I'd tell them to fuck themselves
with smile... The buzzing didn't go away.

It couldn't possibly be my parents, they were on a trip to L1 and
not due back for three weeks. What the hell.

I stood up and stumbled my way though the house, dropping the
bottle on my kitchen table. I was permanently off duty and didnt care what
anyone thought if they saw me drowning my misery.

With a heave, I opened the door. "You realize there is a
curfew..." I began.

It was him.

Large, beautiful violet eyes stared back at me and a tangle of
long brown hair hung  down around his heart shaped face. He gave me a wise
assed smile, brushed the hair from his features and pulled a black
cap over his eyes.

"Sorry Miss, I dont mean to intrude." He began, looking around
nervously. "They won't look for me here."

It was raining, and cold out. He pulled his blue jacket closer to
him and cradled his gut gingerly. "Please."

I swallowed. I didn't live on the Military base, I deliberately
chose not to, But he'd seemed to be taking a risk coming here.

"You've done enough, haven't you?" I said stepping to the side. I
was too drunk to care and let him cross the threshold. Something about his
walk disturbed me. It was labored with a slight limp, a limp I noted
when I first met him, but this time it seemed worse.

"Ahhh, I guess not enough mam, but I appreciate your kindness.
They're very few kind people in a world gone mad." He removed his hat and
fumbled it. It splattered on the floor pooling a puddle of wet at his

Honest to the end, he knew he was trouble. "Don't you have
friends?" I asked, closing the door. What the hell was I doing? Shouldn't
I be calling the MPs? What if they saw him? We'd both roast in prison!

He shook his head, worn features pale. "No one I trust."  He said
weakly. "You can call the cops, or you can let me stay the night...
I'll be out of your hair in the morn..."

I bit my lip, tasting salt. He was damned pathetic, I felt my
heart wrench. In the morning?

He shivered and reached for his hat.

Then grabbed for the back of a chair as he slipped to his knees.

Diluted crimson spilled from his garments and reddened my

He was hurt far more than he wanted to admit.

I thought of the demonstration outside the space port and the
students bathing in their own blood.

Instinctively I wrapped an arm around him and helped him to stand.

"Let's get you cleaned up, and we'll discuss it later." I said
hurriedly. "I'll ignore the fact you cost me my career."

He weakly smiled through half closed eyes and pressed his dripping
head against my shoulder

"..Much obliged Ma'am..."