Kayla remained at Rose’s side, struggling to contain the chaos of emotions inside her. In the beginning she had felt nothing. Then the pain of grief had pierced her heart, sending jolts of electricity through her nerves until she thought she couldn’t take any more. Finally, like all the intense and painful sensations from her life, the anguish faded away, leaving only the glowing coals of rage that fueled her motivation.
Thandi tried to comfort her, and Christie too spoke kind words, but she didn’t hear any of them, nor dare to look either of them in the eye. She was alone with her black fury, and she would keep it that way, until the day Rayker’s eviscerated corpse lay at her feet.
When she finally looked up, she saw a crowd of Rangers lined up by Rose. Without a word, each one of them was stripping their badges off their combat suit, and laying them in a pile on her body. The word had spread quickly, and soon every Ranger in the valley who could walk had come over to pay their respects.
As Kayla stared, Christie sat beside her and placed an arm around her shoulder. “You haven’t shed a tear Kayla. You haven’t said anything.”
Kayla didn’t respond.
“Please talk to me.”
There was a pause as Kayla looked down. “Rayker’s still alive. She got away—I let her get away.”
“I know,” Christie said. “We’ll find her.”
“And the soldiers who shot you down.”
Christie nodded.
Kayla stood quickly. “I need a rifle,” she said firmly.
Cara, standing nearby, turned. “What do you want a rifle for?” she asked suspiciously.
“I’m a Ranger, I can still fight.”
“You’re walking wounded,” Cara observed.
“Are you using that?” Kayla demanded coldly, pointing to the carbine slung around the PJ’s body.
Cara assessed the young Ranger’s wounds and met her gaze again. She nodded, unslung the weapon, and passed it over. “Good hunting,” she said.
Kayla turned to leave, but Thandi stepped in front of her, a pleading expression on her face. “You can barely stand. Can’t you just stop and talk to us?”
“Get out of my way,” Kayla snapped. Then she was gone, heading for the platoons that were already moving up the valley.
Thandi looked back at Christie, who shrugged. “I guess I have a pistol,” she said, and they both grabbed their helmets as they ran to catch up.
The ramp dropped slowly on the landing ship, letting in the brilliant morning light of Tyr. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon, obscuring the dull red of the gas giant that dominated the sky. Kayla took a moment to inhale the air, so fresh and sweet after the valley, and their return journey in the stale Banshee.
She faced Thandi and they stood up in synchronized movement. Like her, Thandi was resplendent in her dress uniform, which they had managed to straighten out in the cramped walkways of the gunship, shining the buttons and their boots to perfection. Christie was to Kayla’s right, facing the crashed dropship’s pilot, and after them the co-pilot, with Cara. They stood in two lines, with Rose’s coffin between them, draped in the Mountain Ranger flag. In one movement they lifted it up their shoulders, turned to face the open ramp, and began their slow march.
Outside, the full battalion, including the Vipers who had been wounded, had assembled, gleaming in the sun. Kayla heard the distant command to salute, and felt the glow of pride in her heart. Rose Djallen deserved nothing less.
Over two exhausting days, they had succeeded in tracking several of the remaining soldiers in the mountains, who were neither strong, nor fast enough to outrun the women of Valkyrie. After a frantic cat and mouse chase, during which Kayla had collapsed twice from exhaustion, they had gone out in a last desperate firefight. She had thought their deaths would satisfy the ball of fire inside her, but it didn’t. Rayker was still out there, and would want her revenge.
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After completing the march to the airbase terminal, they were forced to pass the coffin onto the grave detail, and Kayla found that to be the hardest moment she had suffered in the previous few days. Since they returned to the Banshee, they hadn’t allowed Rose to be alone, sitting by her side in shifts. Delaying the painful separation, they lingered for more than an hour, talking amongst themselves until the inevitable time came, and they watched through bitter tears as the coffin was removed to its transportation.
On the journey back there had been the difficult and frustrating work following such a disastrous operation. They debriefed, and wrote reports of what they had done, said and thought. These were reviewed and compared against the logs of radio traffic from the battle. Then came the difficult process of open discussion, as a squad and a platoon, with Rangers going back and forth, admitting to what they had done wrong, and what they felt should have been done instead. Kayla found the process to be cathartic, as each of the women voiced their doubts and regrets, airing their failures for all to see, so that all might learn from them.
The Raiders’ Tiger teams took most of the criticism, and they took it with open acceptance. Urtiga committed to a walkthrough of their assault through the lab with the Chieftains, during which she took full responsibility for her aggressive push against the Special Forces teams.
The organization had encountered Jotnar teleportation before, but never on such a large scale, and so discreetly installed and operated. Once the base had been fully explored, they realized they had uncovered a military complex larger and more sophisticated than any they had come across in the past. The ghost fortress was real, and would have profound consequences for Caldera’s future.
After the researchers had been evacuated from the valley, they were held on the Banshee while they were interrogated about everything they had seen and heard in the base. Once the process was completed, Kayla had been allowed to see Weslan again. She joined him in the medical station, while a doctor prepared a chemical amnesia solution.
“They’re going to erase your memory,” she explained. “You’ll wake up on a rescue shuttle, believing that you survived a crash.”
“I see,” he said bitterly. “So, just like that, all this never happened. Nobody outside your dark little world learns anything because they won’t hear about it. And you wonder why nobody understands you?”
Kayla was silent, not knowing how to respond. Then she steeled herself for the immense courage she would need for what she had to say next.
“I wanted to tell you about Rose,” she began. “The doctor says you won’t exactly remember, but you will still have some kind of emotional closure, so you won’t spend the rest of your life wondering what became of her. We at least owe you that much.”
“What about Rose? Was she with the other soldiers?”
“Yes. She was killed.”
Weslan said nothing, and began to cry, as Kayla looked on, feeling stupid and helpless. She didn’t know how to handle her own emotions, much less those of a man she barely knew.
As he settled down, he became angry at her. “You did this!” he shouted. “You pushed her into this godforsaken gang!”
Struggling to contain a retort, Kayla responded as best she could. “You’re wrong. She made her own choice.”
“She wasn’t like you! She had so much to live for, so much to achieve. You’re just angry at everyone—all you want to do is destroy.”
Shocked by the venom directed at her, Kayla decided she should leave before she lost control of her own temper. She nodded at the doctor, who approached with the syringe. As she walked to the door, she stopped and turned back. Her gut tightened as she saw Weslan glaring back at her.
“You might be right,” she admitted, before she walked out, leaving the last connection to her Helvetic life.
When they returned to their battalion campus, Kayla was informed by Lieutenant Akane that she was being considered for a medal for her actions in the lab, and that she would be interviewed by a review committee.
On hearing this, Kayla only shrugged. “No. Give it to Rose.”
Once all the after-action work was completed, the battalion held the funeral in a large valley in the Tyr mountains, named the Vale of the Fallen. At the mouth of the valley, carefully manicured grass stretched all the way from the sea, until it met a forest of cherry blossoms. Before the forest, lines of young saplings were neatly ordered into rows, each one progressively older and larger the further back they were placed.
It was an old tradition that the fallen members of Valkyrie were buried in a fresh patch of grass, while a tree, genetically engineered to live forever, was planted over the grave. The ceremony was long and solemn, ending with several volleys of rifle fire that shattered the peaceful mountain air. After it was over, Kayla, Christie and Thandi returned together to the black vehicles to start the long drive back to Tyr city, and new assignments.
Urtiga drove, while Kayla sat in the back, staring out at the passing scenery. The road out of the valley climbed up over a ridgeline, and she could see the tall peaks and deep valleys stretching out around them.
“Stop the car!” she demanded suddenly.
Urtiga didn’t question her, pulling the vehicle over to the side of the road, onto a large, matted patch of earth that had received many visitors. The women got out, following Kayla as she approached the ridge’s crest, where they stood in silent contemplation for some time.
Before them lay the whole of the Vale of the Fallen, stretching far into the distance—a great forest of innumerable cherry blossoms, weaving through the mountains like a great pink river reaching as far as the eye could see.