Ender's War

Chapter 12 - A Sham of a Martial

"What do you want?"

"I thought you should know that there's some people waiting to speak with you."

"Who?"

"They say you called them here on business, so I had them wait in the cafeteria until I could find you."

Peter looked at Bernard quizzically. He hadn't called anyone to see him, and it didn't even appear that Bernard followed the proper screening protocol with them. For all he knew, his incompetent second could've just let a bunch of serial killers into the I.F. base. For a moment, Peter considered blowing up at the child, but soon decided against it. It wouldn't exactly be subtle to yell at him. That would only be confirmation to the former Battle Schooler of the fact that Peter had no idea who was waiting for him, and he didn't want to come off as anything but concise.

"Thank you." Peter said. The praise was reluctant but he had already made up his mind.

He would see who these people were and find out what they wanted, and then he'd decide whether or not they could be trusted. If they couldn't, he would just as easily have them detained by calling the base security. It would only require a simple call.

"You're dismissed." Peter said.

As soon as Bernard turned around and began walking in the opposite direction in which he came, Peter took off toward the cafeteria. As he walked, he only kept one thought in mind; I have to make sure that whoever these people are, they aren't going to mess up my plans.

* * * * * * * *

Bean sat in silence, as he watched the sky go from a sunset orange to the pitch black that signalled the day was coming to an end. The once illuminated faces of his companions were now only mere shadows, and he found it hard to concentrate on anything other than his own thoughts.

It was too easy to drift into his mind while waiting for Ender to come back. Ender's older sister Valentine, and Petra didn't appear to want to converse, so it truly felt like he was alone. Not that he minded the feeling. Bean found it comforting that he had time to go over everything that'd happened since he'd been rescued from Germany. And he enjoyed the quiet peacefulness of the night. He hadn't been able to take a real break since he and Petra had gotten stuck out there for a little over a year. There was too much to worry about, and the constant gun shots were a reminder that they were never really safe. Worst of all, if any one of the Warsaw Pact soldiers had gotten wind of who they were, they would've been captured and used as weapons before Bean could process what was even happening.

So now, he sat and enjoyed the silent darkness. In Battle School he was never fond of it. Especially since nobody could control the lights there. Lights out was lights out. There was no going around the mandatory system, even with his capabilities. Now though, he felt content, and he also felt grateful. Bean had so many aspirations, and so many dreams of unifying the world, that he wasn't ready to die in some war zone.

And he would never forget that it was Ender who risked his own life to find them. Surely, he understood that Ender had a stronger relationship with Petra than with him, but that didn't lesson the extent of the sacrifice he was willing to make. And what surprised Bean was seeing Valentine. It was one thing for Ender to risk his own life, but an entirely different one for her to do the same. She must be willing to do anything for him. Bean immediately came to that conclusion, and he knew that he wasn't wrong. The two were close despite the years they'd been separated because of the Battle School. They weren't close as in: they knew everything about one another and how their brains worked, that clarity came with time. Time that Bean knew they didn't have together. Their relationship was something else entirely. Almost as if the two of them had a deep seeded connection from years ago that caused them to be fiercely protective of the other. And Bean knew, that if he didn't want to get on Ender's bad side, he would always be respectful to his sister. Otherwise, he was sure that it didn't matter who he was, he would get his ass kicked.