The Titanian pilot gazed out of the windscreen with steely eyes. His extraordinary vision, characteristic of his kind, allowed him to clearly behold a sight with the evening twilight approaching a quarter-league below him with ease.
“Buildings,” he spoke into his radio. “Rudimentary, ugly, and snow covered, but definitely buildings. This is where intelligence told us the New Yeupisians were building a fortification, close to the shore. Permission to fire?”
“Granted. Fire when—
Something hit the bottom of the Craft before the fighter pilot could slam the button that would send a missile careening down to the ground, blowing the buildings—and whoever was unlucky enough to be in them—to bits.
“Halt. Something just hit the underside of the fuselage. It may be a Terran creature, a bird, but…”
“But what?” his commander, somewhere in a makeshift base several dozen leagues away in the Glacial Lands pondered.
“I think…” the pilot’s voice was suddenly terrified. Hidden, but not well, by the howling of the fierce wind outside the Craft, a faint beeping could be heard only by him. “This isn’t a bird.”
“Sergeant, give me a precise report of your current visuals right now!” the commander yelled, but he would get no answer. The Craft fragmented into hundreds and hundreds of pieces, and for a brief moment, a flash in the sky brighter than the moon appeared. The pilot’s life ended with fear coursing through his being, and it would never be known if he had died of fright or by being dismembered from multiple parts of the body simultaneously. All the while, the frigid but calm waves crashed on the white coast just a few hundred meters away as they had since time immemorial, the outlines of a plethora of icebergs acting as silent sentinels in the background.
The tarp that had concealed a dugout hiding spot had been blown off, not by a gust of the wind, but by the force of a primitive rocket that had been launched from within, whose trajectory was determined by the best shot in all of the Black Shield. A hand, clad in a fingerless woolen glove, stuck out from the hiding spot, holding its thumb out. The next two minutes were crucial. The Shield had calculated that that length of time was how long it took before any Titanian reinforcements could come, so a pick-up had to be timely.
Perhaps fortunately, though, this soldier seldom felt the emotions that any other of their comrades, or anyone in general, would’ve felt if only two minutes decided if they would live or die. The bitter cold bit at the thumb being stuck out, but like a warrior loyal to his king and homeland, it remained upright, refusing to allow it to retreat into the warm of its fist. A Craft that hovered only inches above the ground soon whizzed by without stopping, one of its doors open. The masked soldier climbed out and into the moving vehicle, which had only slowed down, seamlessly. It was a ritual they had done dozens of times. It was nothing new for them.
Twenty minutes later, in a white area indistinguishable from any other, a large piece of the ground suddenly ascended, as if a piece of the land itself was lifted. Hydraulics, a new introduction to north Yeupis, made it possible for this vehicle-sized piece of land--which was nothing more than rock covered in a powdering of dirt on a flat surface--to open up and allow the Black Shield vehicle entry. It was much like the elevator that Gareth Koppel used to make way into what had been his home at one point. It was all courtesy of Vigdis Maas, who had reverse-engineered the technology to make it easier for soldiers to move in and out of their underground hideouts. It would be another hour before the craft emerged once again within the grounds of Depot-011, now the primary base of operations for the Black Shield. In that entire time, Vivian Andel had not uttered a single word. Indeed, the medic and Craft operator who had risked their lives to pick her up out of the hideout were still wary of her, but it was something they had to get over. There was only person she would behave like a normal person around. Fortunately she was such a crucial fighter to the group that she stayed in the officer’s barracks, along with all the engineers, other top soldiers, and the most important medics. But first, she was taken to the officer’s mess, to refuel after 12 hours of being outside in the brutal Glacial Land winter.
A hot bowl of soup with rationed chicken and peas was placed in front of her, along with a metal cup full of steaming milk. The perfect meal to warm up.
A soldier quickly wrapped a blanket around the girl’s shivering shoulders before quickly taking their leave. Besides a couple cooks in the kitchen, and two or three others minding their own business, no one else was around. But few people didn’t mean no people at all, and she refused to remove her black mask in front of anyone else. To eat in the presence of others, she would lean over her meal and pull her blanket over her head, arms and food. For a few minutes, she blocked herself out from the world as she peacefully drank and ate. She only stopped to put the mask on and observe and see who else had joined or left the mess, before continuing with her meal. This was a habit from the days leading up to when the Anbieter discovered and rescued her from the cruel fate she was subject to.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
On the second peek she took, a very familiar face was at the counter, waiting for his meal to be prepared for him.
That’s Leon! she thought, crinkling her eyes in excitement. I want to call out to him. No, wait. That means drawing attention to myself. Maybe a wave will elicit his attention. Other people do that when they see people they like.
Vi lifted her hand and waved, but of course, his back was to her as he awaited his meal. But another hand did wave back to her. A small one, whose counterpart clung tightly to the overalls that Leon wore. Its owner was only as high as the young medic’s waist.
It’s that young child that Leon rescued a couple of weeks ago, she remembered. It seems he tags along with him wherever he goes.
Vi’s hand remained in the air, even though she was no longer seeking Leon’s attention at that moment. Was there something about that little boy she was drawn to? Was she feeling affinity for someone other than her master? No, she convinced herself. It’s completely normal to greet others.
Leon finally took notice of the elusive young woman, and with a smile, he decided to join his companion by sitting across her.
“You’re back in one piece,” he chuckled. “As per usual.”
Vi nodded, offering no other sentiment other than a straight affirmation.
“I find that these rockets are not that much different from rifles,” she commented. “Whenever a machine finds itself in my hands, they’re all the same to me. At least, that’s how they feel.”
There we go, Vi, she gave herself a metaphorical pat on the back. Keep this up and you’ll be ready to tell him about everything soon.
“I sure wish the Anti-Imperialists gave us some of their newer stuff. Missiles, they call them. Rockets but even better. But the stuff we have now is what they’ve had lying in their storehouses for years. They’ll hit their mark, though. They have the best shot in the whole of the Black Shield firing them.”
“Mm.” Vi nodded uncharacteristically briskly, before pulling the blanket back over her head again. But she wasn’t going for another bite or sip this time. She was trying to hide something, a feeling that she never had experienced before. At least, not in many years. So long, in fact, that it made her feel a lack of security. Like Leon could see through her mask and expose the girl underneath. The shy and anxious girl, that is.
“It’s only a matter of time, though,” Leon spoke to himself, ignoring Vi’s concealment of herself. It was routine to him at that point, so he didn’t question it. “The only reason the Antis ditched their rockets was because the Angels found a way to counter them. Our geography might stall them for a bit, but come the end of winter, I think…”
The boy trailed off as he tried not to think of the grim possibilities that awaited them. Even the powerful projectiles, that even a year ago would’ve seemed unfathomable to any Terran, had shaved away only a small fraction of Titanian attacks. A couple months more, and they would be completely defenseless. No winter storms to throw off the precision of the Titanian jets.
Sensing the change in atmosphere, Vi pulled the blanket back down, letting it rest around her shoulders. She didn’t know what to say, so she just looked on and waited for Leon to finish speaking. At least he would know that she was listening to him.
“I just… I really hope that Anwen and Stefan come home soon. We need all the soldiers and technology—especially technology, as we can get. What do you think, Vi?”
Vi was not able to keep her focus on the young medic for very long, as her chestnut eyes had already been fixed on something behind him by the time he remembered he was not talking to a brick wall. He turned his torso around and found that her sights were set on the young boy he had come to the mess with, playing in a corner with the wooden horse Leon had given him.
“Ah, that’s Finn,” Leon chuckled. “I realized you haven’t really spoken to him. To be honest, I didn’t know if you were ready to. You don’t exactly have a cordial relationship with anyone else around here, and the kid’s only three. Didn’t want you to scare—
“That look in his eyes,” Vi mused loudly. “The way he’s so immersed with that toy. His innocence remains. He lost everything he had, but, it’s like nothing’s changed for him.”
“I credit with my grandfather Felix for that,” Leon sighed softly. “It took a lot of hard work, but with the old man’s techniques, he’s acting more like he should. I hope whatever he saw stays buried inside forever. What he saw… I hope no one ever has to see it.”
Finn moved on. Could it be that simple? Could I… move on?
“He is… very lucky to have you, Leon,” Vi nodded. “I think he’s doing quite well.”
Leon’s face became warm at the compliment as he stood up with the tray in his hands.
“Th-Thanks,” Leon mumbled, before shaking the feeling away. “I should get back to my quarters. I’m on call tonight. Well, I’m really always on call. But I’ll talk with you soon.”
Vi nodded as he returned to the food counter with the tray, before going to collect Finn. She was once again alone.
Perhaps if someone like Leon was there for me, I wouldn’t be so fucked up. Oh, but who am I kidding? I was eight. I’d have remembered it anyway. What matters… what matters is that I have someone like Leon now. I have to tell him about the incident and show him what it did to me. I feel like that day is coming much sooner than I expected.