Sorry for the delay on the Democratic People's Republic of Awesome this has been causing, but I just had to write it~
Future SF human AU.
Espatier = Space Marine
"Ronja, you idiot! We can't divorce! Think of Juha! He's only ten, he couldn't survive in two households! It's- it's abnormal!"
"Fuck you too, Nikita. We're not working. Face it, you are an unemployed idiot hillbilly with delusions of being worth a fuck, and I'm the one holding up the household. Isn't that against your old-fashioned little set of morals? What are you going to do to compensate, declare war on homosexuals?"
"You had your PhD revoked because of plagiarism charges, and last time I checked, you worked part-time in a department store!"
"At least I get paid to do something, rather than just mooching off social security!"
"I don't 'mooch off' social security, I'm in active search of a job!"
"Oh yeah? How do you do that while watching porn? Tell me, I'm curious."
And for the last couple of years, the little boy in his room called Juha Venäläinen had known nothing else.
(*)
"So, kid, whatcher name?"
"Vash Zwingli."
"It's spelled like this, right?" The recruitment officer pointed to the correct place on the tablet's screen.
"Yes."
"Born?"
"The first of August, 2339."
The officer whistled. "Eighteen years and five days? Typically they wait 'til they're nineteen. You in a hurry to get outsystem or sumthin'?"
"I see no point in wasting a year of my life."
"Just sayin', just sayin'. 'Kay, got sumthin' dug up from the databanks. This file correct?"
Vash gave the screen a cursory glance. The slot for 'biological father' was empty. "Yes."
The officer seemed to notice it, too. "Hmh? You a war chi-" "Yes." Vash gave the man a death glare. "I would think that's all the information you need."
"Well, yes. You can go now."
(*)
Two weeks later
"Hi, I'm Timo Väinämöinen. I'm from Suomi, Kontola, so my Standard isn't that good, but I hope you can understand me. I'm twenty years old and hold the rank of Senior Espatier. You will soon be considered Espatiers Basic, and after six months' service become Espatiers. Men, your barracks are there; as for the women they'll have to..."
Vash zoned out the Suomian. The people standing around him were about nineteen on average. Most were far taller than him, but hey, Yuri Gagarin had been chosen the first man to go to space because he was the only one small enough to fit in the capsule, right? Besides, the suspiciously young-looking (he could have passed for fifteen with the right clothes) Espatier Väinämöinen wasn't that tall, either.
"...and the urine dump is at 4:30 shipboard time. It's actually very nice to watch, I recommend witnessing it wholeheartedly." He paused. "You are dismissed. If you already forgot where your barracks are, I'll be very disappointed. Good day, Espatiers Basic." With that, Senior Espatier T. Väinämöinen turned and left.
"Hmn. That was short", the blonde on his right remarked, "Quite frankly, I was expecting for him to drone for a bit."
"Think of it this way: he knows what to say, when, and doesn't waste others' time."
At this point, Matthew Williams tried to join in on the conversation, but wasn't noticed.
"Oh! Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Emma Vandenvogt, from the countryside of Belje, Rikesia."
"Vash Zwingli, Neuort."
"So you're telling me which planet you're on? Wow, that's … specific, if you'll excuse my sarcasm."
"More specifically, I was born in the Eastern canton and spent most of my teenage years in Luftstadt and Dahnark."
"Erm, correct me if I'm wrong, but … isn't there quite a distance from any point in the Eastern canton to the canton of Dahnark?"
"Well, yes, but one word: stepfather."
"Oh! So, your mom moved all the way for love? How cute~"
"Uhh, actually, they met in Luftstadt, and moved to Dahnark for better-paying jobs they'd found through Mathias' relatives back there. And besides, better to have at least one set of relatives nearby."
"But- Oh wait, are you from the war zone?"
"Yes."
(At this point, Matthew Williams had wandered off and crashed into First Lieutenant Gilbert Beilshmidt, who could see him. Matthew was elated.)
"Oh! I- I'm terribly sorry if I offended you in any way, I truly didn't mean to."
"Don't worry, you didn't."
(*)
"Major Bonnefois?" the aide asked. "I have the latest stat rep on the Lyubanan invasion of Kontola."
Major François Bonnefois lifted his head up from his latest round of paperwork. You could see the accumulated stress on his face. "Yes, Kirova?" He glanced at the report. It was thin. Very thin. von Bock would never file anything that thin.
Kirova glanced around, as if someone else were there, willing to take on the task for her. Seeing as no-one was, she confirmed his worst fears.
"It's thin … but that's just because Espatier Eduard von Bock and Senior Espatier Erzsébet Héderváry are MIA, assumed captured or dead, and it's not like we can exactly land a search party to Udmurtia to investigate further. The powers that be expect a strategy from you by the day after tomorrow."
"Understood. You're dismissed."
With that, Petra Kirova left his office. François sighed. Senior Espatier Väinämöinen wouldn't like this – he'd just lost two cousins, after all – and the pathetic Supplies Coordinator Edelstein wouldn't either (then again, Erzsébet was his girlfriend, so he actually had a reason to be pissed off, unlike the time he'd reprimanded François for using up too many red roses).
François' stress levels had tripled within minutes of hearing the news. Retiring early, he realized he hadn't even touched the report. Perhaps for the best, he thought. Maybe I can actually get some sleep now.
A/N: Who is this mystery 'Mathias' stepfather person? Which country does he represent? Or is he -gasp- an OC! Tune in next week to find out!
Oh who am I kidding. Mathias Køhler = Denmark.
And just for the curious, Vashkins' mom is Friederike "Fritzi" Køhler. Liechtenstein = Erika Vogel, their adopted kid.
The Story's Current Shape: Thriller/Romcom love child brought up by Science Fiction.
How I keep track of characters: StoryBook. It's a software for writing novels, but I'm just using it for my character files. OpenOffice FTW!
And I apologise for OOC!France, I just can't have him groping everything in sight while he's fighting an expy of the Cold War as a mortal, dammit!