Silence had consumed the compartment, and all were sleeping peacefully the night away. Ah, so full of solitude...so wondrously relaxing. One of them stretched and yawned like a cat, then went completely limp, back to that fully-sleeping state. It was the nicest time of all, when they were alone, and only a little light came from the lanterns. It wasn't terribly hot then, either. And they could dream. The only way they could get out of that place was through their heads. Indeed, it was a wonderful time. Gatty crept to the middle of the compartment. It was time for a gentle wake-up call. He took a deep breath, and began the spiel.
.
"Reveille, reveille!! All recruits heave out, and prepare for the day. Uniform of the day is as follows: PT Gear. Get ready for a workout, boys."
He smiled as he watched everyone fall off their racks, having been shocked awake by his yelling. They were all groggy and confused, and their hearts were beating a mile a minute.
This was one of Zaibach's incentives to make them learn to wake themselves up. They staggered to their feet, and the fight to get their things out of the closets began. "You've got five minutes!" he added. He received incoherent complaining as a reply.
.
He sat down to have a moment to himself. This was going to be a tough day. Thus far, all they had been doing was taking care of their clothes, and cleaning. The only thing he had to do was make sure that nobody tried to kill eachother, and that the new recruits knew what to do and not to do. Not much to it. Now they were going to start the real work. And he was going to be responsible for seeing that everyone got through it okay.
"I won't let anyone fail," he thought. "I won't leave a teammate behind. Not ever."
.
His moment was ruined by a fight breaking out. He ran to the front to see what was the matter. Cliet had begun his usual annoying routine. He just had to find someone to defeat. And today, it was two of the new recruits who had refused to get up. The first had conceded to doing as Cliet told him, and had begun looking for his clothes. The other, the recruit that had given Gatty so much trouble the night before, was not so easily swayed.
"Oh, so you think you're special? That you don't have to do like everyone else? That sounds to me like individualism. Individualism destroys teamwork. We don't need individuals here!" He smacked the recruit, who fell so easily, and without even the whisper of a protest. He was too tired...far too tired...
Cliet raised his arm to strike again, but Gatty came to help.
"Cliet, stop it! He wasn't supposed to get up now. He has an appointment later, and they wanted him to be well rested. Now you've ruined that, you jacked-up idiot." Cliet bit his lip. He felt terrible now. Zaibach hated any type of mistake.
"I...uh..." he stammered.
"It's alright," Gatty reassured him. "I won't say anything about you. I'll just find some other way to get around it."
The way that Gatty had been looking out for everyone, it came as no surprise that he should be sacrificing trouble to himself, so Cliet didn't question it. He returned to harrassing the others. They finished readying themselves, and left for the recruit training hall. Gatty stayed behind. He didn't have to go. He would be getting a 'special' workout all his own later. [Which consisted of a seven mile run, 200 pushups, 400 sit-ups, and whatever else they felt like making him do at the time.]
He sat down with that recruit. There had been no appointment. That was just a ploy. But, Gatty could easily get him taken to the infirmary later. That would completely excuse him for missing physical training, allow for Cliet to not find out that there was no appointment, and to possibly get anyone else who didn't like him to give him a break for a bit. Things always seemed to work out okay in the end.
.
"So...what was your name again? Dirandau?"
Dirandau hugged his knees.
"Yes...." he said quietly.
Gatty waited for him to say a little more, but Dirandau had gone back to silence.
"You've got a nice name. Mind if I call you Dilly? Nobody likes to use names over five letters long here."
Dirandau shut his eyes.
"Kay."
All his words were short and quiet. It seemed that he wouldn't say anything unless asked a question, or provoked too much.
"Especially that idiot Cliet. He's the one who started it. His real name's Cliaret, but he hates it, so he's started making everyone else use that rule to. You might find it easier to just let him win in the little things. He'll probably leave you alone if you do."
He didn't like giving anyone the advice of giving up, but in Dirandau's case, he felt it best. Dirandau couldn't fend anyone off at the moment, and Gatty wouldn't always be around to make sure everyone was 'playing nice.'
At the mention of Cliet, Dirandau began crying unstoppably. Gatty blinked.
"Uh....are you okay?"
Dirandau curled up on the floor. He couldn't have looked more hurt if someone came up to him and chopped him to pieces.
Gatty couldn't understand this behavior. Sure, Cliet was a jerk, and it's never nice to to be hurt...but...well, this is overreacting.
.
Gatty looked at the door, nervously.
"C'mon...you've got to stop that. If a DC catches you crying like that...you're going to get yourself the beating of a lifetime. You do realize that, don't you? Don't do it to yourself..."
But, Dirandau didn't seem either able or willing to stop.
"Come with me. We'll go wash those tears off. It's really not worth it to stay down there like that."
And still he didn't listen. Gatty became frustrated. How is it someone could be so weak, and yet so stubborn? He gave up for the time being. He picked Dirandau up, who didn't give much of a fight, and took him over to a rack.
"I'll just get him an SIQ slip," thought Gatty. "Then they can't rightly do anything to him."
.
SIQ stood for 'Sick In Quarters.' Temporary bedrest. Gatty was allowed to give them to other people, if they were unable to get to the infirmary at the moment. It wasn't a good thing to lie about, especially since the doctors would find out that the person hadn't really been sick. But, no one could honestly think that this recruit wasn't ill. Not with the way he was acting and how he looked. Gatty put up the slip on the bunk. He left to retrieve everyone's temporary records, and to take care of some other divisional necessities.
.
.
By the time he finished, everyone else had come back from their PT session. Cliet was staring at Dirandau nervously. Gatty couldn't resist a chance to make Cliet feel bad.
"That's your fault, you know. He might not make it. The doctors don't quite know. It's...sad, really."
Cliet turned pale. It took him a moment to regain his composure.
"Yeah...but...I....well, how was I to know? And, it's not like Zaibach really needs to take care of their weaker soldiers." He turned to face Gatty. "I'll bet he's an A. M., too. That's probably why you like him so much, isn't it?" {{And what an A. M. is will be explained later.}}
Gatty's face turned red with anger. He was sick of those types of insults, but in Zaibach culture, Cliet had every right to make them.
Having shot his favourite arrow, Cliet left for the showers, feeling much better and more assured. Gatty crouched down next to Dirandau's rack. Dirandau's eyes had dried, and he had fallen asleep. Well, that was a good sign. At least he hadn't been lying there contemplating whatever it was that hurt him so badly.
Gatty tapped him on the forehead. Dirandau sat up, ready to bolt up and out of there. He looked terrified, and didn't realize where he was for a full minute. He hyperventilated for a moment, then seemed to calm and return to present reality.
"I hope you're feeling better. I got you a lunch, just in case you were hungry."
.
He was famished. It was several hours into the day, and he hadn't had anything since the morning before. He looked through the bag. The most appetizing thing in there was a 'brick-sandwich.' [Thus named because the damned thing was so stale.]
"Eh...it's not very good, but trust me; it is lots better than the food at the mess hall. And if you eat it with lots of water, it's not too bad. Don't worry. The stuff they give out at night is better. And you'll be able to get wine then, too."
"Uh-huh."
Dirandau wasn't as displeased as Gatty was. In fact, he seemed somewhat happy to have it. He bit into the brick sandwich as if it were the best thing in the world. He smiled at Gatty. "Thanks a lot."
He said more than two words. That was good. And he seemed to be relaxing, as if whatever had happened to him before couldn't touch him anymore. He also seemed to appreciate how nice Gatty had been to him. It seemed he'd be fine after a little more time of this.
.
Gatty was intrigued that anyone could actually stand those sandwiches. It made sense that they gave them to sick people - those recruits would end up throwing it all back up anyway.
"You must have had some really bad food before this, if you actually like that stuff."
Dirandau froze, nearly choking on the sandwich. His eyes became wide, fixed upon an imaginary point, as if he were in another world. Those words had recalled some part of the past to his memory. Gatty blinked. It was far too easy to set this guy off.
"Come on...don't do that again. I'm sorry, for whatever I said. I didn't mean it." He took Dirandau's hand and began to rub it gently. He remembered that his mother used to do that for him when he was nervous or scared. It always helped.
Dirandau wrenched his hand away, and scooted as far away as he could.
"Please, let me help you. Just tell me what's wrong."
He tried to come closer, but Dirandau was determined. Having no other weapon, he threw the rest of the sandwich at Gatty. It gave him a deep scrape on the side of his face.
"Stay away from me!!"
Because of how quiet Dirandau had been all this time, it was shocking to hear him suddenly screaming like that, with nothing unusual going on. Dirandau had backed up so much that he fell off the bed. He took off running for the door. Cliet took off running after him, and, of course, beat him to it. Cliet put him in a headlock, and started dragging him back.
"You damned psycho! You can't go out there. And, shut-" Dirandau began screaming as loudly as he could. Cliet clapped a hand over his mouth, and was presently bitten. Gatty came over, and began yelling at Cliet to just leave Dirandau to him to take care of.
.
And, meanwhile, the DC [Division Commander] lounge was being disturbed. It was a central location where they could make up their division's plan of the Day, and make sure that none of them conflicted with the other divisions. [For example, it would prevent two divisions from trying to use a training hall at the same time.] But they couldn't do it without quiet. They were certainly angry that their work, which was done only to help those idiot boys in their training, was being disturbed by their recruits. Three of them went to investigate.
.
.
"So, you felt you just HAD to join in, recruit?"
Cliet was on his 100th push-up. He could hardly breathe, let alone talk.
"I'm waiting, recruit!!"
"Y.es....sir..." he said in a raspy voice.
"Hmmm...you seem to feel obligated to do a lot of irrational things. So, I take it that you'll be just fine with the fact that you have to do two hundred more push-ups."
.
Cliet hit the ground. 200! After he was so tired already! GAaah!
.
"Okay, I see...displaying more of your 'specialness.' We'll make that three hundred more, and I want you to say, 'I'm special, I need attention' after each one. Got that?"
"Yeah...." Cliet managed to say.
"How about a yes sir?!!"
"Yes sir!"
"Fine. Begin."
Cliet was left to finish, and in a moment it would be Gatty's turn.
.
Gatty's gaze drifted from Cliet, whom he really didn't mind seeing suffer, to Dirandau, who was now gagged and being restrained by one of the DC's.
"Poor kid, " he thought. There was no telling what the DCs would do to him. Disruptive activity of that magnitude would be dealt with in a harsh manner, even by Zaibach standards.
.
"You're supposed to be the leader of this division, are you not?"
.
Emphasis was placed on 'supposed to,' to remind him that his position was not set in stone.
Gatty immediately snapped out of his thoughts, and came to attention. "Yes, sir!" he said, loudly and clearly as possible. Working with the DCs to one's own interests was often a job of acting. If he pretended to be motivated, and acted as if he were assured and in the right, they would gloss over and miss his mistakes. They would leave him alone.
.
"Very well, then. If you truly think you are a leader, then I will treat you like one. No questions. I want you to assess the situation."
.
"Damnit," he thought. "A speech? I didn't prepare one...fuck..." He cleared his throat, trying to think of anything to say.
"Well...It began with an incident, a discrepancy on Recruit Cliaret's part. He is unable to...uh..handle the other recruits, or to work with anyone else. Recruit Dirandau is suffering from unknown problems which were going to be rec..uh..recto...rectified."
He was a little nervous, and big words like that weren't altogether familiar to him. [He was young, after all.] He was simply trying to impress, and feeling as if he were failing at that. He prayed that he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
The DC stared, relentless, at Gatty. No, no...that answer wasn't correct.
"Is that...all?"
Gatty bit his lip. What more was there to say? "Yes, sir."
.
The DC shook his head. "Pathetic. I could have read that much in the compartment log book."
.
Gatty's heart sunk down to his feet. There wasn't anymore to say...what was the DC asking him for??
.
"I can see that you're trying, therefore, I'll give you another chance. I want you to assess the situation...meaning, what YOU did wrong."
Gatty was slightly dumbfounded.
"I did everything I possibly could...it's not my fault that this ended up like it did," he thought. "Those two were fighting. I tried to stop them...I tried..."
His mind rambled on for a moment. Whatever the DC was expecting him to say was inconceivable to Gatty.
"Well, recruit? I'm waiting." Gatty made several attempts to start again, but he couldn't find a starting point. Thankfully, a break came for him. Cliet's throat was so dry that he couldn't manage to talk anymore. As soon as the noise had ceased, the DC turned his attention to screaming at Cliet. This gave Gatty five whole minutes to collect his thoughts.
"Gatty, after this is over, you will write up an EMI slip for Cliet. Understand?"
.
Those who were watching shuddered. EMI - Extra Military Instruction. That was the worst a recruit could get. Normally, they just had recruits 'beat' themselves by doing exercise. But, if one refused [and being unable to continue was counted as a refusal], then he would get a real beating. For however long the DC felt necessary.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, then. And, now...let's hear your excuse."
.
Gatty's voice took on a very self-depricating tone.
"I have no excuse, sir. As a leader, anything that goes wrong in the group I have taken charge of, no matter what the cause, is counted as my fault. I should have been able to control the two, even if they didn't want to cooperate. A leader has to be able to control his men, even if they absolutely refuse to. A failure to do so is unacceptable. A failure of any kind is still a failure. No matter what."
He shut his eyes and bowed his head. He sounded about ready to kill himself over this, and that was exactly what the DC wanted to hear. Soldiers had to desire perfection over anything else.
"Then you have learned a valuable lesson today."
Gatty sighed with relief. He would escape from this unscathed! Hoorah!
"However, you still made a mistake, and will have to pay for it. I'll see that you do. Later. This session is over."
Gatty tensed up again. Of course. Never a reprieve. Never an escape.
He wondered just what they were going to do to him. They might be a little lenient...but there was no way to be even close to being sure. He hurried to the office, and filled out the EMI slip. He had been practicing those forms in his spare time, just for something to do. He did this one in ten seconds. That beat his last record. He handed it to the DC, who then told him to fill another one out for Dirandau. But, this one was to be an AEMI - Advanced Extra Military Instruction. Being literally beaten within an inch of your life. People were known to die from it.
.
"Sir...he's supposed to go to medical in a few minutes...you can't-"
Oy. He made the terrible mistake of telling someone higher than him that they couldn't do something. That'd cost him later. "....I mean....he can't go to AEMI."
"Medical?" The DC repeated.
Gatty nodded. "Yes, sir. That's what started the problem. Recruit Cliaret was messing with him after I had made him SIQ, and Recruit Dirandau wasn't quite right in the head at the moment. Sir."
The DC narrowed his eyes. He despised it when a recruit got out of punishment. He called it "Vitamin P." They should all have it as often as possible, because it helps them grow into better soldiers. Plus, it simply entertained him.
"Very well," He said, slowly. "But, I still want an AEMI slip written up. I already had my heart set on it. And...hmm...." He pointed to some random recruit in the background. "I want it made out for him. Got that?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. When you're finished with recruit Dirandau, that other one needs to be brought to AEMI. Make it happen."
"Yes, sir."
They gave Dirandau back to Gatty, and left with Cliet, who had decided to let himself be dragged. He refused to move anymore than he had to. There was no reason for him to try to be strong now, because it wouldn't save him from the punishment. As soon as the DCs were out of earshot, the recruits began talking.
"That's unbelievable! It was such a stupid incident...they can't be making this big a deal out of it!"
"Gaaah...we're all gonna die....we're all gonna screw up and die...They're gonna put this whole division inta one big box together, and just label it 'Jacked-up"
"Do you think we'll get out of PT if we have to go to Cliet's funeral?"
One of them sneered in Gatty's general direction.
"Gee...I wish I could be in charge. Then I could get out of any kind of trouble."
Some snickered at that.
Because Gatty never seemed to suffer any of their punishments, and because he wasn't there for many of the group's activities, they assumed that he had it easy.
They didn't have any idea what sort of troubles Gatty had to deal with as leader. They didn't realize how much worse he had it much of the time. But, their feelings didn't have to be addressed at the moment. They were only joking at the apparent irony of this.
.
Gatty didn't say anything. The recruit who was to go to AEMI was the only one he was concentrating on.
"It...it won't be so bad. I've been there before. It's not that bad. I swear. And...you'll probably become unconscious half-way through…you won't even remember most of it once it's over."
The recruit nodded halfheartedly. That most certainly did not help.
Gatty bit his lip. He couldn't do much. If he helped one person, another got shot. It was a lose-lose situation. And everyone held him responsible.
"I'll get you out of this," he whispered. "I promise."
.
He told the recruit to go sit down and try to relax, and to not worry. He then turned his attention to the next person in need of his help. Dirandau had sat down behind a bunk, and was struggling [ineffectively] to get that gag off. It was tied in a horribly complicated knot, the type of which they hadn't begun learning how to tie yet. Gatty got a pair of scissors from the division's first aid kit, and used it to cut the cloth. Dirandau said, 'thank you,' in a quite dismayed tone, and walked away.
"Hey, wait a minute!" exclaimed Gatty as he walked after Dirandau.
"Are you okay? I was worried..."
Dirandau stopped and sighed.
"That was my fault...wasn't it..."
He looked at the depressed AEMI candidate. "I was supposed to get that...and you had someone else take it for me...and they didn't want to..."
He was genuinely sorry. It was unusual for someone to feel that bad about getting out of something at someone else's expense. Out of everyone who had to suffer through that ordeal, Dirandau seemed to suffer worse. It had nothing to do with punishments received, or what had happened to whom. It was all dependent on the mind.
"You should try not to think about it. We've got to get going. And...please cooperate this time. I don't want to have to beat you up again."
He nodded. After how much he had caused, he didn't mind doing as requested...even though he was deadly fearful about going to a doctor.
.
.
The line at the infirmary was...long, to say the least. The rooms were fully packed with recruits. They had every kind of ailment imaginable. At least, they said they did. It was well-known that most everyone there was only going to get out of PT or out of a beating. Thankfully, Recruit Training's medical advisors had decided that infirmary visits were to be allowed to anyone who asked for one, no matter how unlikely it was they the needed it. [Although, if a recruit were to request a trip to the infirmary too much, then their DCs would make their lives a living nightmare.] Gatty went directly to the front of the line with Dirandau. They didn't have to wait, thankfully. Those that had been given SIQ slips were given head-of-the-line priveliges. He filled out an appointment slip, and was directed to go wait on the third floor.
.
The waiting room was dimly lit, and the walls were painted in calm colours. This was perhaps the most peaceful place they could hope to spend time in as recruits. Thanks to some random official, it was decided that the ill needed to get away from the tense atmosphere of training, and for some reason the colour scheme of rooms like these was chosen to help that along.
Personally, Gatty thought that if they would get some nicer medical personnel, that would help put the patients more at ease than changing the paint colours. [But, then, his opinion didn't exactly matter at the moment.]
.
"You don't have to say anything. Just..uh...just pretend that you lost your voice. I can get them to give you what you need."
"Uh-huh..." Dirandau was very distant. Gatty was nice, but nobody had control over doctors. Doctors were the evil of the world, who lived behind dark walls, and never let anyone be free from them.
"Listen...I can take care of this. I know how the system works, I know how to do things here. You don't have to worry. And he is not going to AEMI. I wouldn't let anyone go there...well, maybe Cliet..." Gatty snickered. "It's all under control, okay?"
Dirandau nodded.
.
They waited for forty minutes or so, thus demonstrating one of the army sayings of "Hurry up and wait. Early is on time, and on time is late." Everyone had to be at least a half-hour early to anything scheduled, and then about an hour of that was spent waiting for the instructor or inspector or whoever it happened to be. Some suspected it was meant to teach them patience. Others suspected that it was just another army mistake.
"The doctor will see you now..." called a voice over a comm link.
"C'mon," Gatty whispered. "And, relax..."
.
He was true to his word. His suitable, though entirely fabricated, explanation as to what was going on was sufficient enough to get Dirandau two weeks of LLD {{Light Limited Duty: Gets you out of PT, beatings, and allows you to walk without being in your division. (Something the author received many, many times.)}}, and no new prescriptions. The infirmary doctors had a habit of over-medicating anyone who came for help. There solution to everything was to prescribe a substance...and there were plenty of drugs in the closet. They did, however, give him some tranqulizer, for emergencies. They said that it had been on Dirandau's previous prescription list.
He had also kept his word about the AEMI. Everyone thought it was noble that he had taken that session himself. Especially since he still had to do his own special PT session, and to take on the separate punishment that he had specifically earned.
Dirandau grew to trust Gatty after that. Well, actually, it was more like hero-worship than trust. Someone that could will one of those vile, conniving medical personnel to do anything of one's own bidding...it seemed like an impossibility. And manipulating those DCs like that...getting exactly the outcome that he wanted, even if it was at a steep price... All of it was so easy for Gatty. Gatty knew how to do everything here. He vowed he'd do anything Gatty asked.
.
.
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{{Author's notes: Eh....my, my, my...how...AU this must seem. Dirandau, acting as one of his DSlayers might, feeling sorry for his actions, and not particularly interested in gaining any semblance of power except the ability to get the higher ups to leave him alone. Not quite like Dirandau...[And I'll bet that those of you who are not fans of his think I'm molly-coddling, and trying to show that he has a nice side, right?] But, fear not! If I do my job correctly [Which I intend to] this will all make sense, and will be yet another fun angsty fic. And, Dirandau will eventually because his usual unhappy screaming pyromaniac self with a ready hand for slapping anyone who gets in his way. I'm trying to mix and match my bootcamp experience with what I think Zaibach might have had. Just so that no one worries too much, that beating session is a very VERY extreme representation. While they weren't enjoyable, they weren't as bad. I think it was illegal to make people do more than 80 pushups at a time.
.
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I'm not sure how many more Dilandau or Esca fics I plan to write.
Anything I do try seems to end up a mix of drinking sessions, painful defeats and broken dreams. While I don't mind that, I can't help but think that it all seems to end up the same.
[Plus at the moment, I'm tired, and am once again trying to evaluate how weird all this looks, or if it actually does look like what I intend it to…..]
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And then there is the fact that I really ought to start pursuing my other fiction. It suffers from neglect.
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So, right now, I don't know what I'm doing, and probably shouldn't be rambling about it….but……..oh well…
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Happy Trails for now.}}
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"Reveille, reveille!! All recruits heave out, and prepare for the day. Uniform of the day is as follows: PT Gear. Get ready for a workout, boys."
He smiled as he watched everyone fall off their racks, having been shocked awake by his yelling. They were all groggy and confused, and their hearts were beating a mile a minute.
This was one of Zaibach's incentives to make them learn to wake themselves up. They staggered to their feet, and the fight to get their things out of the closets began. "You've got five minutes!" he added. He received incoherent complaining as a reply.
.
He sat down to have a moment to himself. This was going to be a tough day. Thus far, all they had been doing was taking care of their clothes, and cleaning. The only thing he had to do was make sure that nobody tried to kill eachother, and that the new recruits knew what to do and not to do. Not much to it. Now they were going to start the real work. And he was going to be responsible for seeing that everyone got through it okay.
"I won't let anyone fail," he thought. "I won't leave a teammate behind. Not ever."
.
His moment was ruined by a fight breaking out. He ran to the front to see what was the matter. Cliet had begun his usual annoying routine. He just had to find someone to defeat. And today, it was two of the new recruits who had refused to get up. The first had conceded to doing as Cliet told him, and had begun looking for his clothes. The other, the recruit that had given Gatty so much trouble the night before, was not so easily swayed.
"Oh, so you think you're special? That you don't have to do like everyone else? That sounds to me like individualism. Individualism destroys teamwork. We don't need individuals here!" He smacked the recruit, who fell so easily, and without even the whisper of a protest. He was too tired...far too tired...
Cliet raised his arm to strike again, but Gatty came to help.
"Cliet, stop it! He wasn't supposed to get up now. He has an appointment later, and they wanted him to be well rested. Now you've ruined that, you jacked-up idiot." Cliet bit his lip. He felt terrible now. Zaibach hated any type of mistake.
"I...uh..." he stammered.
"It's alright," Gatty reassured him. "I won't say anything about you. I'll just find some other way to get around it."
The way that Gatty had been looking out for everyone, it came as no surprise that he should be sacrificing trouble to himself, so Cliet didn't question it. He returned to harrassing the others. They finished readying themselves, and left for the recruit training hall. Gatty stayed behind. He didn't have to go. He would be getting a 'special' workout all his own later. [Which consisted of a seven mile run, 200 pushups, 400 sit-ups, and whatever else they felt like making him do at the time.]
He sat down with that recruit. There had been no appointment. That was just a ploy. But, Gatty could easily get him taken to the infirmary later. That would completely excuse him for missing physical training, allow for Cliet to not find out that there was no appointment, and to possibly get anyone else who didn't like him to give him a break for a bit. Things always seemed to work out okay in the end.
.
"So...what was your name again? Dirandau?"
Dirandau hugged his knees.
"Yes...." he said quietly.
Gatty waited for him to say a little more, but Dirandau had gone back to silence.
"You've got a nice name. Mind if I call you Dilly? Nobody likes to use names over five letters long here."
Dirandau shut his eyes.
"Kay."
All his words were short and quiet. It seemed that he wouldn't say anything unless asked a question, or provoked too much.
"Especially that idiot Cliet. He's the one who started it. His real name's Cliaret, but he hates it, so he's started making everyone else use that rule to. You might find it easier to just let him win in the little things. He'll probably leave you alone if you do."
He didn't like giving anyone the advice of giving up, but in Dirandau's case, he felt it best. Dirandau couldn't fend anyone off at the moment, and Gatty wouldn't always be around to make sure everyone was 'playing nice.'
At the mention of Cliet, Dirandau began crying unstoppably. Gatty blinked.
"Uh....are you okay?"
Dirandau curled up on the floor. He couldn't have looked more hurt if someone came up to him and chopped him to pieces.
Gatty couldn't understand this behavior. Sure, Cliet was a jerk, and it's never nice to to be hurt...but...well, this is overreacting.
.
Gatty looked at the door, nervously.
"C'mon...you've got to stop that. If a DC catches you crying like that...you're going to get yourself the beating of a lifetime. You do realize that, don't you? Don't do it to yourself..."
But, Dirandau didn't seem either able or willing to stop.
"Come with me. We'll go wash those tears off. It's really not worth it to stay down there like that."
And still he didn't listen. Gatty became frustrated. How is it someone could be so weak, and yet so stubborn? He gave up for the time being. He picked Dirandau up, who didn't give much of a fight, and took him over to a rack.
"I'll just get him an SIQ slip," thought Gatty. "Then they can't rightly do anything to him."
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SIQ stood for 'Sick In Quarters.' Temporary bedrest. Gatty was allowed to give them to other people, if they were unable to get to the infirmary at the moment. It wasn't a good thing to lie about, especially since the doctors would find out that the person hadn't really been sick. But, no one could honestly think that this recruit wasn't ill. Not with the way he was acting and how he looked. Gatty put up the slip on the bunk. He left to retrieve everyone's temporary records, and to take care of some other divisional necessities.
.
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By the time he finished, everyone else had come back from their PT session. Cliet was staring at Dirandau nervously. Gatty couldn't resist a chance to make Cliet feel bad.
"That's your fault, you know. He might not make it. The doctors don't quite know. It's...sad, really."
Cliet turned pale. It took him a moment to regain his composure.
"Yeah...but...I....well, how was I to know? And, it's not like Zaibach really needs to take care of their weaker soldiers." He turned to face Gatty. "I'll bet he's an A. M., too. That's probably why you like him so much, isn't it?" {{And what an A. M. is will be explained later.}}
Gatty's face turned red with anger. He was sick of those types of insults, but in Zaibach culture, Cliet had every right to make them.
Having shot his favourite arrow, Cliet left for the showers, feeling much better and more assured. Gatty crouched down next to Dirandau's rack. Dirandau's eyes had dried, and he had fallen asleep. Well, that was a good sign. At least he hadn't been lying there contemplating whatever it was that hurt him so badly.
Gatty tapped him on the forehead. Dirandau sat up, ready to bolt up and out of there. He looked terrified, and didn't realize where he was for a full minute. He hyperventilated for a moment, then seemed to calm and return to present reality.
"I hope you're feeling better. I got you a lunch, just in case you were hungry."
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He was famished. It was several hours into the day, and he hadn't had anything since the morning before. He looked through the bag. The most appetizing thing in there was a 'brick-sandwich.' [Thus named because the damned thing was so stale.]
"Eh...it's not very good, but trust me; it is lots better than the food at the mess hall. And if you eat it with lots of water, it's not too bad. Don't worry. The stuff they give out at night is better. And you'll be able to get wine then, too."
"Uh-huh."
Dirandau wasn't as displeased as Gatty was. In fact, he seemed somewhat happy to have it. He bit into the brick sandwich as if it were the best thing in the world. He smiled at Gatty. "Thanks a lot."
He said more than two words. That was good. And he seemed to be relaxing, as if whatever had happened to him before couldn't touch him anymore. He also seemed to appreciate how nice Gatty had been to him. It seemed he'd be fine after a little more time of this.
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Gatty was intrigued that anyone could actually stand those sandwiches. It made sense that they gave them to sick people - those recruits would end up throwing it all back up anyway.
"You must have had some really bad food before this, if you actually like that stuff."
Dirandau froze, nearly choking on the sandwich. His eyes became wide, fixed upon an imaginary point, as if he were in another world. Those words had recalled some part of the past to his memory. Gatty blinked. It was far too easy to set this guy off.
"Come on...don't do that again. I'm sorry, for whatever I said. I didn't mean it." He took Dirandau's hand and began to rub it gently. He remembered that his mother used to do that for him when he was nervous or scared. It always helped.
Dirandau wrenched his hand away, and scooted as far away as he could.
"Please, let me help you. Just tell me what's wrong."
He tried to come closer, but Dirandau was determined. Having no other weapon, he threw the rest of the sandwich at Gatty. It gave him a deep scrape on the side of his face.
"Stay away from me!!"
Because of how quiet Dirandau had been all this time, it was shocking to hear him suddenly screaming like that, with nothing unusual going on. Dirandau had backed up so much that he fell off the bed. He took off running for the door. Cliet took off running after him, and, of course, beat him to it. Cliet put him in a headlock, and started dragging him back.
"You damned psycho! You can't go out there. And, shut-" Dirandau began screaming as loudly as he could. Cliet clapped a hand over his mouth, and was presently bitten. Gatty came over, and began yelling at Cliet to just leave Dirandau to him to take care of.
.
And, meanwhile, the DC [Division Commander] lounge was being disturbed. It was a central location where they could make up their division's plan of the Day, and make sure that none of them conflicted with the other divisions. [For example, it would prevent two divisions from trying to use a training hall at the same time.] But they couldn't do it without quiet. They were certainly angry that their work, which was done only to help those idiot boys in their training, was being disturbed by their recruits. Three of them went to investigate.
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"So, you felt you just HAD to join in, recruit?"
Cliet was on his 100th push-up. He could hardly breathe, let alone talk.
"I'm waiting, recruit!!"
"Y.es....sir..." he said in a raspy voice.
"Hmmm...you seem to feel obligated to do a lot of irrational things. So, I take it that you'll be just fine with the fact that you have to do two hundred more push-ups."
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Cliet hit the ground. 200! After he was so tired already! GAaah!
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"Okay, I see...displaying more of your 'specialness.' We'll make that three hundred more, and I want you to say, 'I'm special, I need attention' after each one. Got that?"
"Yeah...." Cliet managed to say.
"How about a yes sir?!!"
"Yes sir!"
"Fine. Begin."
Cliet was left to finish, and in a moment it would be Gatty's turn.
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Gatty's gaze drifted from Cliet, whom he really didn't mind seeing suffer, to Dirandau, who was now gagged and being restrained by one of the DC's.
"Poor kid, " he thought. There was no telling what the DCs would do to him. Disruptive activity of that magnitude would be dealt with in a harsh manner, even by Zaibach standards.
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"You're supposed to be the leader of this division, are you not?"
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Emphasis was placed on 'supposed to,' to remind him that his position was not set in stone.
Gatty immediately snapped out of his thoughts, and came to attention. "Yes, sir!" he said, loudly and clearly as possible. Working with the DCs to one's own interests was often a job of acting. If he pretended to be motivated, and acted as if he were assured and in the right, they would gloss over and miss his mistakes. They would leave him alone.
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"Very well, then. If you truly think you are a leader, then I will treat you like one. No questions. I want you to assess the situation."
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"Damnit," he thought. "A speech? I didn't prepare one...fuck..." He cleared his throat, trying to think of anything to say.
"Well...It began with an incident, a discrepancy on Recruit Cliaret's part. He is unable to...uh..handle the other recruits, or to work with anyone else. Recruit Dirandau is suffering from unknown problems which were going to be rec..uh..recto...rectified."
He was a little nervous, and big words like that weren't altogether familiar to him. [He was young, after all.] He was simply trying to impress, and feeling as if he were failing at that. He prayed that he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
The DC stared, relentless, at Gatty. No, no...that answer wasn't correct.
"Is that...all?"
Gatty bit his lip. What more was there to say? "Yes, sir."
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The DC shook his head. "Pathetic. I could have read that much in the compartment log book."
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Gatty's heart sunk down to his feet. There wasn't anymore to say...what was the DC asking him for??
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"I can see that you're trying, therefore, I'll give you another chance. I want you to assess the situation...meaning, what YOU did wrong."
Gatty was slightly dumbfounded.
"I did everything I possibly could...it's not my fault that this ended up like it did," he thought. "Those two were fighting. I tried to stop them...I tried..."
His mind rambled on for a moment. Whatever the DC was expecting him to say was inconceivable to Gatty.
"Well, recruit? I'm waiting." Gatty made several attempts to start again, but he couldn't find a starting point. Thankfully, a break came for him. Cliet's throat was so dry that he couldn't manage to talk anymore. As soon as the noise had ceased, the DC turned his attention to screaming at Cliet. This gave Gatty five whole minutes to collect his thoughts.
"Gatty, after this is over, you will write up an EMI slip for Cliet. Understand?"
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Those who were watching shuddered. EMI - Extra Military Instruction. That was the worst a recruit could get. Normally, they just had recruits 'beat' themselves by doing exercise. But, if one refused [and being unable to continue was counted as a refusal], then he would get a real beating. For however long the DC felt necessary.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, then. And, now...let's hear your excuse."
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Gatty's voice took on a very self-depricating tone.
"I have no excuse, sir. As a leader, anything that goes wrong in the group I have taken charge of, no matter what the cause, is counted as my fault. I should have been able to control the two, even if they didn't want to cooperate. A leader has to be able to control his men, even if they absolutely refuse to. A failure to do so is unacceptable. A failure of any kind is still a failure. No matter what."
He shut his eyes and bowed his head. He sounded about ready to kill himself over this, and that was exactly what the DC wanted to hear. Soldiers had to desire perfection over anything else.
"Then you have learned a valuable lesson today."
Gatty sighed with relief. He would escape from this unscathed! Hoorah!
"However, you still made a mistake, and will have to pay for it. I'll see that you do. Later. This session is over."
Gatty tensed up again. Of course. Never a reprieve. Never an escape.
He wondered just what they were going to do to him. They might be a little lenient...but there was no way to be even close to being sure. He hurried to the office, and filled out the EMI slip. He had been practicing those forms in his spare time, just for something to do. He did this one in ten seconds. That beat his last record. He handed it to the DC, who then told him to fill another one out for Dirandau. But, this one was to be an AEMI - Advanced Extra Military Instruction. Being literally beaten within an inch of your life. People were known to die from it.
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"Sir...he's supposed to go to medical in a few minutes...you can't-"
Oy. He made the terrible mistake of telling someone higher than him that they couldn't do something. That'd cost him later. "....I mean....he can't go to AEMI."
"Medical?" The DC repeated.
Gatty nodded. "Yes, sir. That's what started the problem. Recruit Cliaret was messing with him after I had made him SIQ, and Recruit Dirandau wasn't quite right in the head at the moment. Sir."
The DC narrowed his eyes. He despised it when a recruit got out of punishment. He called it "Vitamin P." They should all have it as often as possible, because it helps them grow into better soldiers. Plus, it simply entertained him.
"Very well," He said, slowly. "But, I still want an AEMI slip written up. I already had my heart set on it. And...hmm...." He pointed to some random recruit in the background. "I want it made out for him. Got that?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. When you're finished with recruit Dirandau, that other one needs to be brought to AEMI. Make it happen."
"Yes, sir."
They gave Dirandau back to Gatty, and left with Cliet, who had decided to let himself be dragged. He refused to move anymore than he had to. There was no reason for him to try to be strong now, because it wouldn't save him from the punishment. As soon as the DCs were out of earshot, the recruits began talking.
"That's unbelievable! It was such a stupid incident...they can't be making this big a deal out of it!"
"Gaaah...we're all gonna die....we're all gonna screw up and die...They're gonna put this whole division inta one big box together, and just label it 'Jacked-up"
"Do you think we'll get out of PT if we have to go to Cliet's funeral?"
One of them sneered in Gatty's general direction.
"Gee...I wish I could be in charge. Then I could get out of any kind of trouble."
Some snickered at that.
Because Gatty never seemed to suffer any of their punishments, and because he wasn't there for many of the group's activities, they assumed that he had it easy.
They didn't have any idea what sort of troubles Gatty had to deal with as leader. They didn't realize how much worse he had it much of the time. But, their feelings didn't have to be addressed at the moment. They were only joking at the apparent irony of this.
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Gatty didn't say anything. The recruit who was to go to AEMI was the only one he was concentrating on.
"It...it won't be so bad. I've been there before. It's not that bad. I swear. And...you'll probably become unconscious half-way through…you won't even remember most of it once it's over."
The recruit nodded halfheartedly. That most certainly did not help.
Gatty bit his lip. He couldn't do much. If he helped one person, another got shot. It was a lose-lose situation. And everyone held him responsible.
"I'll get you out of this," he whispered. "I promise."
.
He told the recruit to go sit down and try to relax, and to not worry. He then turned his attention to the next person in need of his help. Dirandau had sat down behind a bunk, and was struggling [ineffectively] to get that gag off. It was tied in a horribly complicated knot, the type of which they hadn't begun learning how to tie yet. Gatty got a pair of scissors from the division's first aid kit, and used it to cut the cloth. Dirandau said, 'thank you,' in a quite dismayed tone, and walked away.
"Hey, wait a minute!" exclaimed Gatty as he walked after Dirandau.
"Are you okay? I was worried..."
Dirandau stopped and sighed.
"That was my fault...wasn't it..."
He looked at the depressed AEMI candidate. "I was supposed to get that...and you had someone else take it for me...and they didn't want to..."
He was genuinely sorry. It was unusual for someone to feel that bad about getting out of something at someone else's expense. Out of everyone who had to suffer through that ordeal, Dirandau seemed to suffer worse. It had nothing to do with punishments received, or what had happened to whom. It was all dependent on the mind.
"You should try not to think about it. We've got to get going. And...please cooperate this time. I don't want to have to beat you up again."
He nodded. After how much he had caused, he didn't mind doing as requested...even though he was deadly fearful about going to a doctor.
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The line at the infirmary was...long, to say the least. The rooms were fully packed with recruits. They had every kind of ailment imaginable. At least, they said they did. It was well-known that most everyone there was only going to get out of PT or out of a beating. Thankfully, Recruit Training's medical advisors had decided that infirmary visits were to be allowed to anyone who asked for one, no matter how unlikely it was they the needed it. [Although, if a recruit were to request a trip to the infirmary too much, then their DCs would make their lives a living nightmare.] Gatty went directly to the front of the line with Dirandau. They didn't have to wait, thankfully. Those that had been given SIQ slips were given head-of-the-line priveliges. He filled out an appointment slip, and was directed to go wait on the third floor.
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The waiting room was dimly lit, and the walls were painted in calm colours. This was perhaps the most peaceful place they could hope to spend time in as recruits. Thanks to some random official, it was decided that the ill needed to get away from the tense atmosphere of training, and for some reason the colour scheme of rooms like these was chosen to help that along.
Personally, Gatty thought that if they would get some nicer medical personnel, that would help put the patients more at ease than changing the paint colours. [But, then, his opinion didn't exactly matter at the moment.]
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"You don't have to say anything. Just..uh...just pretend that you lost your voice. I can get them to give you what you need."
"Uh-huh..." Dirandau was very distant. Gatty was nice, but nobody had control over doctors. Doctors were the evil of the world, who lived behind dark walls, and never let anyone be free from them.
"Listen...I can take care of this. I know how the system works, I know how to do things here. You don't have to worry. And he is not going to AEMI. I wouldn't let anyone go there...well, maybe Cliet..." Gatty snickered. "It's all under control, okay?"
Dirandau nodded.
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They waited for forty minutes or so, thus demonstrating one of the army sayings of "Hurry up and wait. Early is on time, and on time is late." Everyone had to be at least a half-hour early to anything scheduled, and then about an hour of that was spent waiting for the instructor or inspector or whoever it happened to be. Some suspected it was meant to teach them patience. Others suspected that it was just another army mistake.
"The doctor will see you now..." called a voice over a comm link.
"C'mon," Gatty whispered. "And, relax..."
.
He was true to his word. His suitable, though entirely fabricated, explanation as to what was going on was sufficient enough to get Dirandau two weeks of LLD {{Light Limited Duty: Gets you out of PT, beatings, and allows you to walk without being in your division. (Something the author received many, many times.)}}, and no new prescriptions. The infirmary doctors had a habit of over-medicating anyone who came for help. There solution to everything was to prescribe a substance...and there were plenty of drugs in the closet. They did, however, give him some tranqulizer, for emergencies. They said that it had been on Dirandau's previous prescription list.
He had also kept his word about the AEMI. Everyone thought it was noble that he had taken that session himself. Especially since he still had to do his own special PT session, and to take on the separate punishment that he had specifically earned.
Dirandau grew to trust Gatty after that. Well, actually, it was more like hero-worship than trust. Someone that could will one of those vile, conniving medical personnel to do anything of one's own bidding...it seemed like an impossibility. And manipulating those DCs like that...getting exactly the outcome that he wanted, even if it was at a steep price... All of it was so easy for Gatty. Gatty knew how to do everything here. He vowed he'd do anything Gatty asked.
.
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{{Author's notes: Eh....my, my, my...how...AU this must seem. Dirandau, acting as one of his DSlayers might, feeling sorry for his actions, and not particularly interested in gaining any semblance of power except the ability to get the higher ups to leave him alone. Not quite like Dirandau...[And I'll bet that those of you who are not fans of his think I'm molly-coddling, and trying to show that he has a nice side, right?] But, fear not! If I do my job correctly [Which I intend to] this will all make sense, and will be yet another fun angsty fic. And, Dirandau will eventually because his usual unhappy screaming pyromaniac self with a ready hand for slapping anyone who gets in his way. I'm trying to mix and match my bootcamp experience with what I think Zaibach might have had. Just so that no one worries too much, that beating session is a very VERY extreme representation. While they weren't enjoyable, they weren't as bad. I think it was illegal to make people do more than 80 pushups at a time.
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I'm not sure how many more Dilandau or Esca fics I plan to write.
Anything I do try seems to end up a mix of drinking sessions, painful defeats and broken dreams. While I don't mind that, I can't help but think that it all seems to end up the same.
[Plus at the moment, I'm tired, and am once again trying to evaluate how weird all this looks, or if it actually does look like what I intend it to…..]
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And then there is the fact that I really ought to start pursuing my other fiction. It suffers from neglect.
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So, right now, I don't know what I'm doing, and probably shouldn't be rambling about it….but……..oh well…
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Happy Trails for now.}}