Returning to Quarters by Moonlight....
Oct. 8th, 2007 01:28 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
nikanor-liadov.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
groznyj_gradNika left mess intending to return to his quarters.
It was nice out, for winter, however, and he lingered on his walk, crossing through the tank yard, occasionally gazing up at the night sky.
A blanket of stars, a dark bright blue, illumed from behind by unseen, uncast light.
He assumed Rakitin was right behind him, but he had yet to see Polya disembark the mess hall, or hear his companionable shout.
Perhaps Polya had business to attend to, like the nights he'd been privy to what Liadov had not.
Rakitin was ostensibly GRU now, and no longer objective and uncompromised, as far as Nika was concerned.
If in fact he ever had been. It seemed Rakitin's wandering eye for unguarded cock caused him to lapse in common sense. He'd said himself he could take or leave the KGB, in no uncertain terms that left Liadov fairly stunned at their utterance. Once, men were sent to the Gulagi for years for telling a single joke about the government- and here was Ippolit, boldly declaring dissatisfaction with his agency.
And then, this blase admission that he intended to jump ship for Volgin's outfit- well, Rakitin was either supremely brave and confident, or hopelessly naïve to think his kit and bags weren't bugged. Or his teeth, for that matter. Maybe he was more of a renegade than Nika had surmised.
It didn't change his feelings for the man, but it did mean he had one less uncontaminated soul to rely on in this corrupt outpost, if it came down to an issue of justice that conflicted with GRU wishes or politics.
He sighed.
Best not to think about that. Not until it came to it- if it did.
The stars were never-shifting, everlasting.
Nika smiled at them and shook his head.
"Men are fucking imbeciles," he whispered to them, confidentially. "And I foremost among them."
It was nice out, for winter, however, and he lingered on his walk, crossing through the tank yard, occasionally gazing up at the night sky.
A blanket of stars, a dark bright blue, illumed from behind by unseen, uncast light.
He assumed Rakitin was right behind him, but he had yet to see Polya disembark the mess hall, or hear his companionable shout.
Perhaps Polya had business to attend to, like the nights he'd been privy to what Liadov had not.
Rakitin was ostensibly GRU now, and no longer objective and uncompromised, as far as Nika was concerned.
If in fact he ever had been. It seemed Rakitin's wandering eye for unguarded cock caused him to lapse in common sense. He'd said himself he could take or leave the KGB, in no uncertain terms that left Liadov fairly stunned at their utterance. Once, men were sent to the Gulagi for years for telling a single joke about the government- and here was Ippolit, boldly declaring dissatisfaction with his agency.
And then, this blase admission that he intended to jump ship for Volgin's outfit- well, Rakitin was either supremely brave and confident, or hopelessly naïve to think his kit and bags weren't bugged. Or his teeth, for that matter. Maybe he was more of a renegade than Nika had surmised.
It didn't change his feelings for the man, but it did mean he had one less uncontaminated soul to rely on in this corrupt outpost, if it came down to an issue of justice that conflicted with GRU wishes or politics.
He sighed.
Best not to think about that. Not until it came to it- if it did.
The stars were never-shifting, everlasting.
Nika smiled at them and shook his head.
"Men are fucking imbeciles," he whispered to them, confidentially. "And I foremost among them."
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