Beginning Notes: Here's to ya, Rorie. ;)  This story takes place the day Erts becomes a pilot.  Some warnings would be OOC, too much introspection (TMI) and overall boredom (OB).  And the title doesn't make sense because REM's Losing My Religion doesn't really fit this…

Or does it?

That's me in the corner 

               Streaming into the room like uninvited morning light through a dusty window, the ship's alarm shrilled and jolted my senses to consciousness.  It was far too early for my tired mind to comprehend what was going on, but I forced myself to rub my eyes open, anyway – only to see that Kyoko had already sprung out of her bed, fully dressed in repairer uniform, and was now leaving the room. 

I got up and changed my clothes as quickly as I could.  Both my hair and my mind were in shuffled disarray; I needed to be fast.

My fingers had just finished hurriedly twisting the final weave in my braid, when an unexpected duet of beeps rang out and clung to the weary silence.   I turned my head to see the automated door glide soundlessly to the right, revealing behind it Una Kleik in her white outfit smiling and standing alone in the entranceway.

"Hi Rome!"

People usually didn't visit my quarters—and if they did, it was to see Kyoko—but nevertheless, I wasn't too surprised at seeing Una.  Very social and full of high energy, she never crossed my tolerability threshold, or anyone else's come to think of it, to become someone of annoyance.  She was cute and carefree – the kind of girl I still occasionally wished I could be.  I hastily tied a yellow rubber band at the end of my hair, slipped into my pristine boots, and smiled my greetings politely as I headed towards her.

"I saw everyone else leaving already," Una said, moving back a little ways for me as I stepped out of my room and into the long and sweeping spacious corridors of our hall.  "I just stopped by to see if you wanted to walk with me."

The door behind me slid to a close.  Una started running and I paralleled, our strides quickening.  "That was very nice of you, Una.  You really shouldn't have."

She really shouldn't have.  It was things like that, checking on others at the risk being pegged tardy, which made people like Una so likeable.  Altruism wasn't exactly that pretty, porcelain vase placed on the highest shelf in which I had to stand on the edge of my toes to reach, but still, my hold on it never gripped past obligatory kindness in situations that called for me to care for those in whom I had no genuine, emotional ties…which, in all unfortunate honesty, was most people.

As we turned left at the next corner, my eyes and my thoughts turned to the direction of Una—that smile of hers still sparkling on her girlish lips—and I felt a pang of deep guilt as her face beamed back at me.  Had our circumstances been switched, I would not have done it.  I would not have done it.  Could uncommitted sins be forgiven?  And I couldn't even say sorry.

"Is something wrong, Rome?  You don't look too happy."  She actually sounded worried.

I shook my head without thinking and Una accepted it and did the same.  Was there something wrong?  If there was, that shouldn't matter because there were far more important things to be thought about, such as Zion the final star and mankind's ultimate hope and destiny; if there was, that should be shrugged off and set aside, because there were far more important things to be dealt with and worked for, such as training and fighting and becoming better and becoming stronger and that complete and precious dependency a pilot candidate had on his repairer in order to succeed; and if there was, never ever would there be an instance where I would want others to be able to detect it.  Not that sadness equated shame.

But because it was mine.

In a time like this, where possessions and populations and planets were lost in the same way their chances for retrieval were, there just weren't many things one could call their own anymore.

We were almost there, so we slowed down when we reached the smooth stretch of hallway.  Una prompted another conversation in between gasps for air.  "Your hair…it's so pretty!  I like how you did it today."  Her small hand ventured across the space between us and touched the thickness of the tightened strands.

"Thank you.  I like your hair a lot, too.  The style is cute." I complimented her automatically.  Her hand dropped away from my face and immediately flew to her own, and her eyes brightly twinkled their appreciation.  When the heat from the spotlight got too hot, I liked to shift the focus.  People like Una were used to the attention, anyway, I thought warmly, watching her babble about how this morning she was trying to decide among three different ways of brushing it.  Listening to her cheerful voice go on and on in rhythmic harmony to the sound of our own resonating footsteps was sort of calming.

The final rounding of a turn was made when Una, wide-eyed, suddenly mused aloud, complete with a finger placed cutely on the cheek. "The Ingrids are fighting right now."  She jumped from braids to battles as though it were as natural as breathing.  "I wonder if we're winning."

Real fighting against the Victim in space was always intense and I tried not to let myself fall into the idea of it, for fear of losing my concentration on the day I had ahead of me.  Like an insistent reminder, the huge silvered doors that led to the Pro-Ing room rose from the faded grey backdrop of walls and seemed to beckon to me.  We stood in front of them and I wondered if Erts was already inside waiting for me.

I stopped to let my hand rest on the surface of panel where the big, flattish buttons that had the power to bid the opening of these doors were inserted.  Casting me a quizzical look, Una's eyes asked me why I had paused.  I smiled to myself and spoke softly.

"We're winning, Una.  I know it.  We will win this."

The words were spun with high and hopeful certainty, and I knew it was because I believed it with all my heart, just like I believed in the Goddesses and in GOA the way Una—her shining face was now reflecting my contagious confidence—and everyone else did, too.  Firmly, I pressed the square button; the room appeared before us and we walked in to meet it.

I had believed so much.

Side Note: There's more to come…*scratches head*