Disclaimer: I don't own Ender's game or any of Orson Scott Card's works. Duh.
Sometimes, I wondered if what we were doing was the right thing. All we knew about the buggers is that they killed some of us. It's true that grants us the right to be angry, and to have justice, but justice is easily confused with vengeance. The buggers are so easy to hate, maybe we're going over board. They only destroyed part of our planet, should we really destroy their whole planet?
I told my superior my doubts. I unleashed my heart with out restraint. Probably could've got me fired, in jail worst-case scenario. But all he could say was "Don't worry, we all get cold feet from time to time. It'll go away in a week or so". For a time I believed him. I told my self that the buggers were bad; we were good, black and white. But the doubts didn't go away, I was left with the feeling that the buggers were somewhere in the gray, and so were we.
I told my husband my feelings. No help there.
I even told my friends, most of them were unconcerned, but one of them squealed on me. Along came my superior, 'e gave me a warning. Got to straighten my act out or get of his ship. Like I could.
I remember the first time I fired at a bugger ship. I was one of Petra's. Just fired, like there was nothin' to it. The crew all thought I was like them, killing, very happily. On the inside I was crying. On his way out the door my superior slapped me on the back, "Good job Laura," he said. I felt like vomiting, which I did.
The crew celebrated that day, brought out the finest wine, ship cook makin' stuff like crazy. When I got my invitation I declined, saying I was under the weather, but I was literally dragged there. I sat in the corner watching a bunch of drunkards dance. It was misery.
The last day I hesitated. Ender commanded us to drop the dr. device. Somebody, I dunno who, shouted my name, finally, and I dropped the bomb. As the planet turned to dirt a tear formed in my eye and ran down my face. On the way out the door the pointy haired boss of mine planted a smart one on my cheek. 'E gave me a look and a growl, like a dog when you try to take their meat, and walked away with the rest of the crew.
I meat Ender once, via computer. He seemed sad, like me. I think killing the buggers weighed heavy on his conscious. We chatted for a minute, and then I told him about what I had felt on board the ship. It was painful for me, especially when I told him about the last day. He looked deep into my eyes, frowned slightly, and severed the communication with out a word.
I'm still returning home, probably won't get there before I die, but my children will before they do.
I guess that's it, I'd take some therapy if there was any available.
AN: Hi dudes! I was board, and felt like writing, and was thinking about the Ender books, so here you go. It only took me about 10 minutes to write. Thanks for reading, please give me comments!
Kahn