AN - Mazer Rackham quote^^^
The soft sound of finger nails tapping against the upholstery of a chair echoed in the small room. Everything else was silent, other than the occasional sigh coming from a severely frustrated middle aged man, trying to successfully operate an uncooperative ansible.
The man's company, being Ender Wiggin, sat there patiently as the tired looking Colonel continued with his attempts. A digital clock that sat on the man's holographic desk read 15:30. He'd been waiting for a half an hour.
No matter. The silence was peaceful. These days, Ender treated it as more of a gift rather than an inconvenience.
It seemed, that wherever he went he had young Launchies following close behind, and they didn't just follow. They talked, and gossiped, and would not leave him alone. Ender would reply with the blandest answers, yet they still persisted. He didn't understand why all of them wanted to get into his good graces. He wasn't annoyed that Graff told them to impress him, but stalking him all over the base wasn't the way to go. If anything, that only made Ender see them as small minded.
"Thank bloody God!" Colonel Graff rose his head up from the screen, and made eye contact with Ender for the first time since the young Admiral had arrived.
Ender rose an eyebrow. He was patient, but he would also love it if Graff got to the point, and told him whatever he needed to tell him, hence his summoning there.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Ender." Graff's voice became stern within the blink of an eye.
The older man's victory over the fixed ansible was already in the past, and it was back to business as usual. Ender was thankful.
"It's never good." He replied rather bored.
It was true. Every time Graff called Ender in for a talk, it didn't end on a happy note, it never did.
"I'm afraid this news has a heavy toll. Not just on the Fleet. On the entire world."
This peeked Ender's interest, and he sat up straight in the chair he was previously lounging in. "Regarding?"
"Admiral Rackham." Graff looked hurt when saying the older man's name, and Ender was confused.
"Isn't he on special assignment? I got word via ansible from the base while I was in Germany, saying he had to leave."
Graff slowly nodded. "I got the same message."
"And there are new developments?" Ender watched as Graff wiped a hand across his sunken face.
"After you left the base with your sister, our ansible connection to the security cameras was disabled. I had reason to believe that it was you who did it. Hell, maybe you wanted to create a counter revolution and the base would've been the perfect place to start."
Ender raised an eyebrow, and gave Graff an 'Are you serious?' look. This was the first he'd heard of any security camera malfunctions. "If I were going to start a revolution, you know better than anyone that my Jeesh and I are smart enough for you to be completely oblivious. That's just sloppy, and what would I gain?"
"I'm not accusing you of betraying the I.F. for gods sake!" Graff rose his voice. His old accusations weren't the point. "At the time, the way we got disconnected when you left, it could've only been you."
"But? You found out who it really was and I'm no longer being secretly stalked for information?" Ender deeply frowned. He'd felt like Graff was watching him. At first, he imagined that it was the feelings of familiarity that this place brought. But now, he knew it wasn't the unwanted nostalgia that was causing him to feel like he was under a microscope.
"In a way."
"Are you going to tell me? Because if you aren't, I outrank you and I'll just hack into the Battle School myself, and search through all of the files."
Graff held up a hand. "I'm way past keeping secrets from you, son. Once you came to your Greensboro mansion after I sent for you, I knew that it wasn't you. If you were planning against the I.F. you wouldn't have willingly come here."
"But you watched me anyway?" Ender narrowed his eyes, and clenched his hands into fists at his sides.
How dare he? After everything Ender'd done in the name of the International Fleet, how could he doubt his sincerity? How could he think he would flip and use his talents for his own selfish purposes? The only person who he knew that would do that was...
Wait a minute.
"I had to make sure that you and your Jeesh weren't pulling one over on us. What remains of the International Fleet, can't afford to be compromised."
"Are you telling me that Peter is somehow involved?" Ender asked. By the way his brother's name violently rolled off his tongue, anyone would be able to know that they weren't on the best of terms.
Graff braced himself onto his elbows over his desk, and briskly started typing away on his handheld ansible. "It's better if I just show you."
Ended waited for a half-a-minute, until Graff handed him the small device. "Somehow, this morning, our access to the main base, and all of it's previous files, was restored. And we found this, hidden in a secret file in the database."
Ender rose his head, and looked at Graff, trying to gage his expression. The old man held no emotion as he always did whenever he was delivering news, so Ender didn't know whether to brace himself for the worst, or the best.
Open on the screen, was a video. In the top left hand corner, a serial number was displayed. It wasn't the normal code of any I.F. video surveillance, so Ender knew that whatever it was, someone tried to bury it.
Without another moment's hesitation, Ender clicked the play button, and the video came to life.
Ender watched as it became apparent that he was watching surveillance of Mazer's office. The old man had been sitting in his chair, looking extremely worn. Ender could tell by his posture that he was eager to retire, and with good cause. He'd stopped the second Formic war, served the world for a century, and trained him. He deserved to be done, and to finally enjoy life.
A figure could be seen entering the room, gaining Mazer's attention. It was Peter. He walked with an edge of egotism, and his smile was laced with a hint of cockiness. He started a conversation between the two, which only escalated with time.
_
"Speechless?" Peter laughed with even more malice. "But I mean, as long as you agree to call off the International Fleet's counter attack and give me the country, nobody else has to get hurt."
Mazer shook his head furiously. "You know very well that I would never do that!"
"Fine", Peter hissed. "I really did not want it to come to this, but if you will not join me, you are collateral damage."
In one swift motion, Peter reached into his belt, and pulled out a small handgun with a silencer screwed onto the end of the barrel. "You do realize what I have to do?"
Mazer was hesitant, but tried to talk Peter out of it. "You do not have to do anything! Just walk away, Peter", he said. "I am just a week away from retiring and having a normal life. I will not get in your way." He raised his hands in defence to try to persuade him.
For a minute, Peter hesitated, but then the grin resurfaced. "I cannot let you have that. You forfeited the right to live when I told you my plan. Besides, what are you? Seventy something at least? You have nothing to live for except to sit around and get even fatter. Any last words?"
"Just do it." He said coldly.
"Wow", the young man said. "You really do have no emotions."
"That could not be farther from the truth." Mazer replied as Peter aimed the gun right at his skull.
"Just one thing, Peter", he said to him with a look of disgust.
"What!?" Peter snapped.
"I hope you are happy when you kill everyone, and you end up all alone with a bunch of slaves to tend to your every–"
Click
The sound of the trigger being pulled interrupted Mazer's voice, and the impact of the bullet soon followed. After that, the room was full of silence...
_
The sound of Ender's uneven breathing was the only thing that occupied the room. The image of Mazer's cold, dead body, still open on the screen.
Ender watched with disbelieving eyes as Peter proficiently cleaned up the blood, left the room, and came back a short while later with a black bag for Mazer's corpse. Ender almost wanted to hit stop, as he witnessed the joy on his brother's face while he zipped the old man into the bag, flung him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, and walked out of the room.
The tape changed to a view of one of the main corridors. Ender could see Peter approach, at an odd pace because of the body, down the hall and toward the garbage disposal.
He didn't want to believe it. But the proof was right in front of him. His brother was a murderer. He killed Mazer Rackham, one of the world's greatest war heroes, and discarded his remains in a garbage shoot.
Both Ender and Graff knew that there was nothing left of the body for them to find. Once something goes, it gets shredded. The thought of Mazer having that as his end, made Ender want to puke.
"Ender?" Graff spoke, after Ender didn't. "Ender?"
The younger teen's face remained blank, as he kept his gaze locked onto the ansible screen. Peter, a murderer? He would never! He couldn't!
After he came back down to Earth, Valentine had told Ender, quite enthusiastically, that their older brother had changed for the better. He'd turned his entire life around. She didn't hesitate to tell him how Peter had excelled at football, made friends at school, participated in school events, and succeeded in making their parents proud. In her eyes, Peter was at least somewhat reformed.
Peter never got along with either one of them, but that didn't mean that he was evil at his core. Neither Ender, nor Valentine would've thought so. Peter was his brother, regardless of their differences of opinion, their feuding, and Peter's hatred toward him. Ender only ever wanted his brother's love. But now, how could he ask for the love of a monster? He was a stranger.
Ender'd killed twice without knowing for the longest time. He killed an entire species without knowing either. It would be followed by endless years of remorse and self-judgement. Something that Peter seemed to be void of. Instead, Peter's murderous expression showed joy and relief at Rackham's death. It was, Ender hated to admit it, evil.
"Ender?"
Graff was starting to get concerned, and pulled his chair back. He stood up from the outdrawn piece of furniture, and made a move to go over to where Ender was seated.
His actions brought the young Admiral out of his trance. Ender jumped up as soon as Graff touched his shoulder, and he continued to back away from him even after Graff withdrew his hand.
"I'm fine." He uttered out. After another moment of silence, he continued. "I...I need time to process."
He was out the door before Graff could reply.
* * * * * * * * *
The next few hours went by in a blur. Ender found himself in the bathroom, more than once, spilling - and then continuing to dry heave - the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. He had a brief thought that everyone would be drinking his recycled vomit the day after, but besides that, his thoughts remained clouded with images of Peter.
He looked so robotic when he pulled the trigger. It was disturbing.
It wasn't the gruesomeness of Mazer's death that made Ender sick. It was the idea that he was related to a psychopath. The haunting revelation that it was Ender who let this happen. If he hadn't been so distracted by his feelings toward Bean and Petra, he never would've left. Maybe Peter would've killed him instead...at least it wouldn't have been Mazer. The old man had taught him so much in the short time he was trained by him. Ender realized the importance of the job, he was motivated to do what was right, and to understand the enemy because of him.
He was an important part of humanity. He was a symbol of sacrifice. The man had sacrificed his entire life to make sure that everyone else could have theirs. And Peter so willingly took what little of his life he was able to get back. It was unspeakable. Mazer was old, and his fighting days were over but that didn't mean he deserved death. He deserved the chance to salvage what he could out of the little life he had left.
Ender always pictured that when the day came, he would be carried to rest by soldiers. I.F. trumpets would sound in the air, and speeches would be made. People would talk about how his sacrifice moved humanity forward.
Peter pushed humanity back.
Ender's eyes burned as he leaned against the toilet bowl, sweat dripping down his forehead from a recent fit of dry heaving he had no control over.
Peter had managed to undo the progress that Mazer, and that he, Ender, was now working toward. A peaceful future.
His brother couldn't be the leader of the Warsaw Pact. Ender would've known. He should've known. Maybe it was his humanity toward Petra and Valentine that got in the way. He had become increasingly distracted lately because of them and their kindness. This fatality was a big reason to convince him to get his head out of his ass, and work toward world peace.
Mazer wanted to achieve it. He didn't live long enough to see it through, but that didn't mean Ender couldn't. If he could get through his unrelenting feelings of self blame, he would. If not for humanity, for Mazer. Because he killed him. Even if it was Peter who pulled the trigger, Ender couldn't stop himself from believing that he was the bullet.
* * * * * * * * *
A large screech followed by a thud brought Peter - along with Alai and Han Tzu - out of a dreamless sleep. His eyes popped open, and he was met with the sleep clouded eyes of the two battleschoolees he'd dragged to space with him.
"We're here." Alai stretched after unbuckling his seatbelt.
The loud noise told all three of them that their ship had successfully docked onto one of the battle school's receiving ports.
Peter groaned and set himself free from his seatbelt, yet he didn't escape entirely mark free. The tightness of the belt left indents on his arms, and he was sure that there were also some on his legs.
Han Tzu, stood up after Peter did with a similar reaction, and the latter watched the two soldiers, waiting for them to lead him out of the ship.
"Now what?" Peter asked impatiently.
Alai's mouth opened and an indecipherable word escaped just as another voice answered, overshadowing whatever Alai had said. The voice was one Peter hadn't heard before. Well he had, but not since the Court Martial. He never expected to hear it again.
"You better come with me." The deep, commanding voice stated once again.
Peter turned around, looked up at the rather ragged looking older man, and glared. Colonel Graff stood before him, wearing full out military attire, but it wasn't intimidating to him in the slightest.
"After you." Alai made dramatic hand gestures, after Peter didn't move, in an attempt to get Peter to go forward. Peter turned to glare at the teen before looking back at Colonel Graff.
"Fine." He complied easily enough, and by the odd look on Graff's face, Peter knew his response surprised him.
The look vanished from Graff's face as expected, however, and the older man resumed his business. "Let's go."
The sound of military boots clacking across the floor was the only thing indicating that it wasn't completely silent. Graff didn't make an effort to engage in any conversation, so Peter and the others didn't either.
Alai and Han Tzu were a little concerned with Graff's strange silent behaviour since they knew it wasn't usual. They exchanged look as they walked, silently asking each other if they should stay with Peter, or escape and find Ender. Peter in the other hand, walked freely, since he didn't know any better, and he didn't suspect anything to be out of the ordinary.
The small group walked past a large looking dormitory with rows upon rows of bunk beds. Peter guessed they were for the BattleSchool armies, and the old tinge of jealousy that had consumed him years before, momentarily made its way back up to the surface. He wasn't chosen, Ender was, and the thought made him want to ruin Ender even more than before.
He couldn't focus on that though, he reminded himself. He was here to stop Ender from ruining the world, not punish him for something that couldn't be changed. That was more important than some old aspiration.
In order to do that, however, Peter needed to get to Ender. And he couldn't do that if Graff had other plans. The problem was, he didn't know what Graff was thinking, and he knew that he wouldn't find out by simply asking.
Peter kept quiet. He figured that it was his best move, and as the four of them ascended the different levels, somehow managing to avoid running into anybody else, it made him wonder if the Colonel had his own route that nobody else was allowed to use.
Graff stopped in front of a large metal door and turned to face the three young men that stood before him. Due to their training, Alai and Han Tzu stood at full attention, ready for orders. Whereas, Peter didn't care about his posture in the slightest. He wasn't exactly hunched, but he was standing more casually than the other two, who had their arms glued to their sides.
"I didn't expect your arrival Mr. Wiggin." Graff's expression was indecipherable as he met Peter's gaze. "Please, step in here and we'll begin."
"Begin what exactly, sir?" Alai spoke up out of pure interest, and Graff's eyes flicked toward the younger soldier.
"Well, I think it's about time we had a little talk."
* * * * * * * * *
Mint flooded Ender's taste buds as he brushed his teeth, trying to rid his mouth of the foul taste of his stomach. In his attempt, he brushed, and brushed, and brushed.
He didn't want to have another reminder of Peter's horrible deed. His mind was already occupied with the memory of the video, and Peter's terrible actions. Ender could see him just as clearly as he did while watching it. He could see the cold look, the fear in Mazer's eyes, and he could hear the sickening sound of the bullet as it tore at Mazer's skull.
Ender wanted to believe that he'd seen everything. Earlier today he thought there wasn't anything else that could surprise him. Peter proved him wrong. It was always Peter. His older brother would never cease to haunt his dreams, and now, his reality. Ender didn't want to close his eyes, in fear that he would re-live watching that terrible moment. And as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew that this damaged him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to hide it.
After rinsing his mouth, and splashing cold water onto his face, Ender finally stopped to look at himself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at him looked defeated.
He was met with the sight of a pale, and broken young man. If anything, he looked like he was sick. His eyes were blood shot, purple bags were underneath them, and his face was drained of all colour.
Wonderful, he thought to himself as he sighed. There was no hope of passing as normal. Even though Ender felt light headed from losing the entire contents of his stomach, he did hope he still looked somewhat okay.
"Whatever." He muttered to himself as he pushed himself away from the counter, and slowly made his way out of the men's bathroom.
He recognized that he couldn't hide everything, and why would he want to? Peter needed to be exposed. He needed to be punished for his actions, and currently, there was no better way to do that than by ruining his brother's reputation.
~ AN
I'm alive! And College turned out to be insane!
It's literally been a whirlwind the last couple of months! So, I suppose I'd like to give a quick summary:
I started college! At first it was kind of freaky being away from home, but then it turned out to be great. One of my roommates was a little psychotic. She moved out though, thank god!
I also turned 19! I took my very first drama class, got cast in Clue: The play, and decided I want to be a drama professor at a University or College! I applied to transfer to a University next year! I also starred in a couple of student films for a film class, and was a screenwriter for another project! And I just got my first tattoo! Needless to say, it's been amazing and insane!
Anyway, this chapter has been a long time in the making! I have had a vision for this story for so long now, and I finally have some time to put it into words! I hope you guys like this chapter!
Thanks for reading, and sorry for the confusion with the early publishing!
Until next time,
Jess xx