Prisoners of War
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,984
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,984
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
'Renada's Rats.
Name: Natea <natea2x1@hotmail.com>
Title: Prisoners of War.
Rating: Pg-13-R
Warnings: AU, Shounen ai, Yaoi.
Pairings: 2+/x1, 3x4x3, 5x6.
Summary: Alternate Universe. Duo, a Flight Lieutenant in the L2 Air Force, finds himself locked up as a prisoner of war by Oz.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the G-Wing characters. I’m not making any money from this story.
Authors Note: I’m taking some liberties with this fic, for one thing there are no Gundams. That’s not to say there weren’t ever Gundams but for the purpose of this fic they no longer exist. It’s really freaky...I’ve been writing this for about a month now, playing around with different ideas...and yet on the night I finally decided to post the first part up what’s playing on tv but a brand new fictional series called P.O.W. I’m watching it right now lol.
Prisoners of War.
Prologue.
‘Renada’s Rats.
Rats.
Scavengers...opportunists...vermin.
That’s what you became when you entered Khush-Renada XIII.
It didn’t matter how many medals you had to your name, how many distinctions or recognitions...how civilized you believed yourself to be...once you were ushered across the threshold of the prison camp you became nothing more than one rat amongst scores; always looking out for number one.
On the surface it was surprising that Oz’s most feared PoW camp was the most basic in design. It was only when you looked deeper that you realized that was where the brilliance lay. Khush-Renada was a pioneering camp. There were no security cameras or surveillance equipment on site; experience had taught the commander not to underestimate the prowess of the prisoners...scanners could be, and had been, fooled. ‘Renada relied upon humans to guard; human’s could be punished for not doing their job correctly.
There were no televisions, no radios...prisoners could take these apart and use the pieces for their own designs. There was little contact with the outside world...even the closest town was over thirty miles away and the surrounding area was flat and barren with no woods or valleys to hide in. That was supposing you managed to get past the doubly reinforced barbed wire fence, not to mention the snipers positioned at regular intervals in look out boxes along the fences’ length. ‘Renada had reverted back to the style of camp used to great effect during the World Wars and documented in pre-colony history. It appeared to work as well now as it did then.
General Dekim Barton, a tall, thin man of questionable descent and the camp commander, was exceedingly proud of the reputation ‘Renada had gained for itself in the ten and a half years since it had been in service. It was now only one of two PoW camps that had never had a successful, recorded escape and, of these two, it was the only one on Earth...the other being based on the moon.
It was for that reason and that reason alone that Khush-Renada XIII contained the kind of prisoners it did. The escapologists. Prisoners who had attempted to escape from their previous camps on two or more occasions, prisoners who were determined to get back to the fight.
Nothing fights harder than a rat in a corner and ‘Renada’s rats were no exception. They didn’t let the camp’s reputation discourage them - in fact some of them even looked upon it as a challenge, to be the first to escape from the un-escapable camp - they came up with some ingenious plans although none had as yet ended in freedom.
Until one did they continued on as usual, infantrymen, soldiers, officers all living together, rubbing shoulders on a daily basis. Rank had little meaning on the inside. You were no longer noticed as an individual...all rats looked the same after all, you lived, loved, fought and played with the others you lived with, settling all arguments the old fashioned way, with fists. The guards only interfered when a life was threatened, they enjoyed the entertainment too much, they got precious little of it in the camp.
To the new prisoners it sometimes came as a bit of a culture shock but they became accustomed to it; it’s amazing what people can get used to when they have no choice after all.
TBC.....
Title: Prisoners of War.
Rating: Pg-13-R
Warnings: AU, Shounen ai, Yaoi.
Pairings: 2+/x1, 3x4x3, 5x6.
Summary: Alternate Universe. Duo, a Flight Lieutenant in the L2 Air Force, finds himself locked up as a prisoner of war by Oz.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the G-Wing characters. I’m not making any money from this story.
Authors Note: I’m taking some liberties with this fic, for one thing there are no Gundams. That’s not to say there weren’t ever Gundams but for the purpose of this fic they no longer exist. It’s really freaky...I’ve been writing this for about a month now, playing around with different ideas...and yet on the night I finally decided to post the first part up what’s playing on tv but a brand new fictional series called P.O.W. I’m watching it right now lol.
Prologue.
‘Renada’s Rats.
Rats.
Scavengers...opportunists...vermin.
That’s what you became when you entered Khush-Renada XIII.
It didn’t matter how many medals you had to your name, how many distinctions or recognitions...how civilized you believed yourself to be...once you were ushered across the threshold of the prison camp you became nothing more than one rat amongst scores; always looking out for number one.
On the surface it was surprising that Oz’s most feared PoW camp was the most basic in design. It was only when you looked deeper that you realized that was where the brilliance lay. Khush-Renada was a pioneering camp. There were no security cameras or surveillance equipment on site; experience had taught the commander not to underestimate the prowess of the prisoners...scanners could be, and had been, fooled. ‘Renada relied upon humans to guard; human’s could be punished for not doing their job correctly.
There were no televisions, no radios...prisoners could take these apart and use the pieces for their own designs. There was little contact with the outside world...even the closest town was over thirty miles away and the surrounding area was flat and barren with no woods or valleys to hide in. That was supposing you managed to get past the doubly reinforced barbed wire fence, not to mention the snipers positioned at regular intervals in look out boxes along the fences’ length. ‘Renada had reverted back to the style of camp used to great effect during the World Wars and documented in pre-colony history. It appeared to work as well now as it did then.
General Dekim Barton, a tall, thin man of questionable descent and the camp commander, was exceedingly proud of the reputation ‘Renada had gained for itself in the ten and a half years since it had been in service. It was now only one of two PoW camps that had never had a successful, recorded escape and, of these two, it was the only one on Earth...the other being based on the moon.
It was for that reason and that reason alone that Khush-Renada XIII contained the kind of prisoners it did. The escapologists. Prisoners who had attempted to escape from their previous camps on two or more occasions, prisoners who were determined to get back to the fight.
Nothing fights harder than a rat in a corner and ‘Renada’s rats were no exception. They didn’t let the camp’s reputation discourage them - in fact some of them even looked upon it as a challenge, to be the first to escape from the un-escapable camp - they came up with some ingenious plans although none had as yet ended in freedom.
Until one did they continued on as usual, infantrymen, soldiers, officers all living together, rubbing shoulders on a daily basis. Rank had little meaning on the inside. You were no longer noticed as an individual...all rats looked the same after all, you lived, loved, fought and played with the others you lived with, settling all arguments the old fashioned way, with fists. The guards only interfered when a life was threatened, they enjoyed the entertainment too much, they got precious little of it in the camp.
To the new prisoners it sometimes came as a bit of a culture shock but they became accustomed to it; it’s amazing what people can get used to when they have no choice after all.
TBC.....