JailBreak

Installment One

Hilde looked around her cell. It wasn't too bad, she concluded. She was lucky enough to be female, though. Women were separated from the men, and since she was probably the only woman in the prison, she had the cell all to herself. She looked around again at the four by eight cement room that had been her home for almost a month already and would be her home for the next three to five years, with time off for good behavior. She didn't really mind being incarcerated. It was definitely an improvement from living on the streets, though not as comfortable as a soldier's barracks. But she had made the right decision, she was certain of that. That Gundam pilot Duo Maxwell was right about OZ. . .he had to be.

Would a Gundam pilot lie to save his own skin? No, she told herself firmly. This was not the time to start doubting her choices. She had been right. Duo had been right. Besides, weren't the Gundam pilots fighting to protect the colonies? And if she wanted to protect the colonies, the best thing to do was to support the Gundam pilots. Hilde lied back on her cot, closed her eyes, and for the millionth time tried to bring his image into her mind's eye. She had to admit, he was cute. But she'd never see him again, she knew, so she tried to refocus her thoughts on her friends in the outside world.

How were they doing without her sending money every week? She hated to think of the three kids she'd come to see as her adopted brothers and sister having to go back to stealing for food and clothes, but she knew that if they had to, they'd survive. And then there was gentle old Bridget who had become her grandmother over the past five years. Hilde knew she only had a little income from the government. When her husband had been killed during a squabble on Earth with the Alliance and some rebels, the Alliance had sent her a small monthly check for the past several years to help the widow. Since Operation Daybreak however, she no longer received government compensation and was relying on Hilde's checks as well.

The elderly woman had always been a kind soul to the street kids in her neighborhood. Hilde didn't know how she would've survived on the streets without Bridget's soups every evening. The soups had been thin, but they were always hot, and Bridget invariably had some stories for the street brats, as they were called on L2A211, the closest colony to the Lunar base.

Hilde worried about them now. Janis, Quentin, and Marc all had pretty much the same background. Their families had all been killed by some military force, whether it had been the Alliance or OZ was impossible to tell anymore, Hilde realized. Since OZ had hidden itself in the Alliance Specials Division, it could have been OZ that had killed all their families and destroyed their homes. Janis and Quentin were both born and raised on the streets of L2A211, but Marc had done as she had, and stowed away on a ship bound for some unknown spaceport, managing to end up on this small colony.

She realized now that maybe being in prison wasn't as good as it had seemed when she was first sentenced. If she was incarcerated, there was no way they could get the money they so desperately needed. Now I'll have to find a way out of here or my conscience won't leave me alone for the next three to five years, she told herself.

Just then she heard the sound of boots walking toward her cell. Since she was the only prisoner at this end of the row, she knew it had to be her comman-, former commanding officer. She knew he only came because he had to. It was his duty as her former commanding officer to talk to her for an hour at least once a week, which in Hilde's case, was usually a monologue. It was his punishment for not disciplining her enough and it made it look like the organization was doing something about the rebels rather than just locking them up or executing them, especially when they were colony citizens.

Actually, Hilde hadn't been a citizen of this colony until she had joined OZ, and in their haste to recruit colonists to further their political machine, they had overlooked the fact that she had no birth certificate, passport, social security number, or discernable past in their database. OZ had quickly filled out the paperwork for her and now she was a legitimate colony citizen. In any case, the colonists would be in an uproar if they ever learned that OZ had executed their people instead of trying to "rehabilitate" them. Personally, Hilde would prefer to be placed in front of a firing squad than "rehabilitated" by OZ.

Hilde heard the footfalls getting closer and didn't bother opening her eyes. Let the dickhead think I'm sleeping, she thought to herself. Hilde heard the boots stop outside her cell. Here it comes, she was saying in her head, another lecture. Maybe he'll even have the balls to bring up the old "don't let your physical attractions impair your judgments" speech. Like he should talk. Hilde mentally stuck her tongue out at the mini Unit Chief Dickhead running past her mind's eye with his crotch on fire.

"Rise and shine, Babe!" Hilde sat bolt upright, banging her head on the bunk over hers.

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