Verri leaned back on her palms, letting out a deep sigh. The olive-drab(OD) green uniform the Veil Riders had issued her pulled tightly against her sporty build, pressing against her plush bust and well-built thighs.
Her emerald eyes looked skyward through the camouflage netting spread over the mortar batteries, the fabric casting odd shadows over her as if she were sitting under a shade tree. The fluffy clouds and bright sunlight did little to help her dower mood.
At this point, Verri had been working on this assignment for months and had accomplished very little in terms of her true mission. Not working on the mortar batteries, she had quickly mastered that relatively simple task. She was failing to make headway on siphoning information about the Humans to the Wilmit-Nung Nobility back home, and she knew deep down that they must have been growing impatient at this point.
The nobles Verri worked for wanted her to observe these strange Humans to see if there was some way to woo them, get on their good side, and then use their power to influence the Humans, particularly the venerable Yule.
But the Veil Riders did not put Verri anywhere near him despite her falsified and fluffed credentials as an intelligence asset. Instead, she had been assigned to Zerg Company, underneath the more amicable and easygoing Koko. Ledes knew that the stubborn Human was impossible to dig any information out of. He was always busy writing reports, managing the base, rubbing shoulders with his fellow Humans, or sleeping.
There was just no way to get him alone, especially when she was such a low rank. It may have been much easier if she had managed to get the early promotions she had heard about.
As a Private? There was just no way.
When she initially enlisted, she attempted to apply for the highly coveted Intelligence Corps. But the Veil Riders told her no, flatly and right out. Despite her marvelous job of demonstrating her ability to retain information, write reports, and ensure tasks were completed, they assigned her to the mortar batteries.
Verri wiped the sweat off her brow and ensured her auburn hair was set tightly in a bun. Unlike many other races who occupied the fifth Battery, Verri wanted to still look good and not present as raggedly as some other female troopers, doing their best alongside the males.
She told herself the care was not only to honeypot a Human but also for her sanity. After all, no one liked being covered in gun oil, sweat, and mud.
But the Humans on this base were not interested in an Elf. No matter how much she fluttered her emerald eyes at them, warmly smiled, or spent time at the enlisted club drinking, they only seemed interested in other races.
Around Cosmoline Company, Humans favored Oni, Harpies, and Yamatu. It was unbelievable that Humans preferred fish, birds, and walls of muscle over her and other Elves; Elves and Humans were physically the most alike, at least Elves and the Brimtouched when compared to little water Elves like the Yamatu.
Was she too plain? She didn’t think she was too plain; Verri was still every inch the eye-puller she was back home. She had been taking advantage of this one building called a ‘jeem’ to finely tune her muscles. She regularly showed off her almond skin, running around the base in silky short shorts or wearing a lovely dress to the Enlisted club.
Had she simply lost her touch at wrapping a noble around her finger? Basic training may have had something to do with that, as the entire process was to get the mind into fighting form and into the correct mindset of a soldier.
Then again, the Humans weren’t nobles; they acted more like the long extinct Trolls of the ancient lands. Those beasts just ate, drank, and fucked until they went blind, and were only gone due to the fact they had killed the Human friends of a Dwarven Lord. He had hunted them down to the last, even using frowned-upon magic to ensure there was no left to walk upon the land.
Humans were just as rare then as they were now, stumbling accidentally through the Queen’s doorway and coming out into the world blindly. Some of them survived long enough to make contact with one of the local races. Others were torn apart or set upon by the local fauna, rolling low on their luck and being spat out of the Veil near a forest. Even more oddly was that while some Humans lived a good, long life in hiding, others aged at a terrifyingly accelerated rate, dying of old age within just a few short years.
But, just like those animalistic Trolls of old, if the Humans weren’t getting sloshed or fucking, they were galavanting around the countryside like they were knights of yore sent down from Itis. Or worse, they behaved as if they were the chosen creations of Krinja herself and rarely left the battlefield.
Verri had not seen any actual combat; all she had done with the Mortars up to this point was practice, train, clean the tubes, and train some more. That was fine with her—but not for the Humans.
If she did not think of some way to get close to a Human soon, she would sneak off base and return to the Dutchy—hopefully, Stupenil, the spymaster, would not be too cross with her for having flopped.
“So Verri. Do you want to go to the DFAC(Dining Facility) for chow? Or are we going to make it on the grill?” Cerbel questioned from across the sand pit where their tube was set up, her teeth brightly shining as she smiled at the Elf.
Verri sighed and looked over at Cerbel. The fair-skinned, buxom Brimtouched woman had doffed her blouse and lounged in her trousers and T-shirt. She had even removed her boots and socks to allow a breeze to waft up the thick OD green uniform bottoms.
“Let’s go to the DFAC; it’s not like we are doing anything else,” Verri replied, gesturing widely at the rest of the battery. “Maybe Jushla will have made something better than broth egg again. It’s just stock with eggs in it; how is that even a meal?”
Cerbel turned to look up the line, her long chestnut hair and tall, swept-back horns shimmering in the sunlight. “I believe he was trying to recreate something called ‘eck drock soop’ after hearing it from one of the Humans. He may not be the cleanest brush in the set, but at least he tries.”
Verri snorted, then crossed her legs as she looked down the line with Cerbel. Today was another day when the entire platoon was standing by to stand by. Everyone was sitting on the benches around their tubes or lingering in the grass; some were playing cards, others attending classes run by the NCOs or watching paint dry in Verri and Cerbel's case.
End of the day, the entire Platoon was mind-numbingly bored.
“I suppose you are right. You think Kinlit will give us a two-hour chow again?” Cerbel breathed, laying back on the wooden slats, stretching out, and letting the tips of her horns tap against the floor.
Verri had no idea, but before she could respond, Cerbel pointed down the line of mortars. “What do you think he is after?”
Verri looked in that direction and saw one of the Humans speaking to Kinlit, a Dwarve, and their Platoon Sergeant while slowly walking down the line of mortar positions. To her surprise, Kinlit looked almost nervous as the Human stopped and spoke to one of the mortar teams, grumbled, cursed at them in English, and then continued down the line.
Virri took a moment to examine the Human and do her best to recall him: green and black speckled camouflage, blonde hair, tan skin, missing an eye with a wicked-looking black eyepatch covering the scarred flesh.
It took her a moment, but she could roughly remember the man's fame—or infamy, in this case.
Kenny Rouge was a man from the ‘Marr-eens,’ a Human combat echelon well known for violence. While Verri did not understand what that exactly meant, he wore a uniform different from most Humans and acted oddly.
From what she had seen from a distance, the man had manners and acted according to the customs and courtesies of the military to a fault, but otherwise, he had a standoffish demeanor.
His behavior reminded her of some of the commoners who tried to act the part after being granted nobility. She thought that primarily because of the horror stories surrounding his name, Kenny was crass, rough, and more than happy to rip your head off if the situation called for it.
According to the mortar crews he had trained, he ran fire mission drills until their hands bled. He had them running around the base carrying each other, tubes, and ammo from dusk till dawn, all while screaming and keeping pace. He was such a hard ass that up and down all the batteries, he was known as the ‘one-eyed devil’.
Despite how well-known the man was on base, he was an enigma. The Human would go and drink with the other Humans, but otherwise, if he was not performing his duties, he was PTing himself to death.
Other than those things, he was a ghost. Verri was not even sure if the barracks were where he slept. She knew he had a room there, but he only went to his room once when she tried to learn his patterns.
Where he went, what he did, and why were some things Verri had wondered for the last few months. Considering every other Auxiliary's fear of him, asking them was fruitless; Her allies would either call her stupid for asking about the devil or ignore her outright, treating his existence like a taboo.
That or some of the Oni might challenge her for the right to try to seduce him— but why would she ever have any interest in him? He was just another battle junkie Human who she had to report on.
Genuine seduction was not her goal—not that she believed seduction would work on him. Something about the aura he gave off told her that. You could call it a sixth sense or her just reaching, but it did not matter; she knew sex was not what the man wanted.
“No clue. Maybe he is performing an inspection for Koko,” Verri pondered.
“Possibly, but it’s odd seeing one-eye here and not training a new class,” Cerbel added.
Verri pondered it momentarily but decided not to jump to a conclusion. The Human was clearly going down the line and checking each tube so they would know soon enough. She leaned back against the wall, yawned, and looked out to the endless valleys of green around the base, waiting for the answer to reveal itself while Harpies fluttered over the distant trees.
Verri and Cerbel did not have to wait long for an answer. After stopping at each of the other mortar squads for at most a minute or two, Kenny and Kinlit reached them. The Human looked at the two of them, lazing about and doing everything possible short of exercising to stay awake.
“Good morning, Privates. Are you two having a nice morning?” Kenny sighed, slowly scanning the only two members of tube ten present.
Kenny had gone through the other mortar batteries one by one, asking the crews about joining his jolly romp afield. Each battery had twelve tubes assigned to it, and each tube had at least six soldiers.
At this rate, Kenny was earnestly becoming disheartened. So many troopers seemed listless and wanted to do something other than sit here waiting for a mission. Yet most believed that going on a solo mission with him for company was a worse prospect than sitting around.
Some of the lazy bastards he had trained flat out told him they enjoyed the lack of action; it let them relax, collect a paycheck, and, most importantly, take a nap anytime they wanted.
Now, Kenny could understand the desire to take a nap, but he had not expected the soldiers he had trained only a month or two earlier to have already become skating bags of ass. By Chesty’s name, they might as well be sharpening their skates by the second.
“Bored,” Cerbel exclaimed, not even sitting up off the ground. “There is nothing to do here.”
Kenny nodded and looked over at Verri, lifting his chin for a moment to get an answer from her.
“Same here—sir,” Verri replied.
“You don’t have to call me sir. It’s Kenny or Rouge; I work for a living.” Kenny chuckled harshly.“ Well, would either of you want a chance to get out and away from the mortars? I am looking for someone with an adventurous spirit who is not afraid of work and, most importantly, willing to go for long stretches without anyone helping them while on a mission.”
Kenny was not the most eloquent man nor a skilled salesman, but the Kinlet standing behind him had advised him that telling the troopers that he was offering them a new job where they would get to sleep in the cold, kick in teeth, and be a billy badass was not a good sales pitch. So this was the Human's new, more subtle message.
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“Pass,” Cerbel said with a wave of her hand, preferring the simple life of living on the FOB.
Kenny glared at the relaxing Brimtouched, wanting to call her a lazy piece of shit, but held his tongue; as Koko said, they had to be a volunteer, so being turned down was something he could not get angry about, even if it was getting under his skin like Parris Island sand fleas.
“What about you?” Kenny muttered, pointing his hand, which was missing two fingers, at Verri.
Verri’s back straightened almost instinctively. Something about the man's Cobalt blue eye, the intense glare, and his presence that demanded her attention sent up a million red flags in her mind.
As Kenny’s eye traversed her, it felt like a predator was assessing every way to kill her with any object on and around her.
This man was dangerous.
After getting over the initial goosebumps of his overwhelming glare, Verri, like a spy, dug for more information. “Is there anything more you can tell me about the mission?”
Kenny raised a brow. No one else had asked anything about the operation so far; everyone else had told him to pound sand after hearing they would have to leave the base.
“Sure. You and I will go out and work in a local contact team, heading west of here to somewhere called The Last Tower,” Kenny explained.
Verri’s mind spun as she pulled the old history of the place from the depths of her stored memories. The Last Tower was a holdout city in the Scattered Holdings, a refuge for the races being pushed out of the Kingdom of Altarak.
It was an old Fae fort in the hills and was being used as a make-shift town, or something of the sort anyway. Oni made up most of the folk there, but it was a jumbled heap of displaced peoples fleeing their certain death in the south.
“Just us? What about the rest of the team or backup?” Verri asked, unable to believe the golden opportunity in her lap.
“It's just us. Koko wants this to be low-profile, so for a few months, we will be it,” Kenny assured.
“I will go,” Verri exclaimed, jumping up and smiling.
This was unbelievable. Of course, as soon as Verri had given up on ever being able to get information on Humans, one offered her to be alone with them for months, and it would get her out of the mortar battery—this could not have been a more ideal situation.
It did not matter that the Human offering her time alone was the one-handed devil. She held no grudge against the man; other than Yule and Koko, he was third on her list of Humans to dig up dirt on.
“Well, tell me, are you willing and able to do paperwork? Send reports back to Koko, and handle contact with locals”? Kenny questioned, needing to ensure he could use this trooper to do the parts of the job he loathed.
“Yes si—er Kenny,” Verri replied, finding referring to him as anything but ‘sir’ as odd.
All Humans, save for a few, usually did not mind being shown that respect. Why was he different?
“I did very well on all my entry tests and am quite capable of all of that; if you don’t want to take my word for it, you can ask Kinlit about my abilities,” Verri added, tossing the buck to her Platoon Sergeant.
Kenny turned around and loomed over Kinlit. “Well, how is she as a soldier?”
“Well, Mr. Rouge, Verri is one of my best. She learned the 120, 88, and 60 millimeters faster than any of the soldiers here. On top of that, I regularly have her go and manage the logistics of our resupplies,” Kinlit said smoothly, as only the Dwarves had the mental fortitude to speak to the Human without stuttering or making a fool of themselves. “Her handwriting is also impeccable.”
Kenny looked between Verri and Kinlit, trying to judge if the Dwarve was telling the truth. One of the issues he had experienced since working here at Fort Kickass was how nervous the troopers were around him. Half of them seemed like liars, so taking a moment to judge them was the norm.
Dwarves, funnily, were the exact opposite; they were stony-faced, to the point, but intelligent to a fault. While they might be incredibly loyal to their own kind, Humans and other races were not always treated with such good grace.
As far as the Human could tell, the Dwarve was earnest, but the thing that surprised him was Verri—she was as cool as a cucumber. Unlike the other troopers, she did not stutter, avoid eye contact, or beat around the bush.
Something at the base level was different about this Elf.
It could be due to the training the Veil Riders put her through, but he doubted that; they all essentially rushed the troopers through an expedited boot camp, giving them the bare minimum amount of training to function.
The Valley Elf was as calm as any Marine Recondo Kenny had ever known, acting like she had absolute control of the area around her.
That soothing aura was sublime to see. Combined with her sporty build and gentle features, Kenny could not help but feel that he had won the lottery by having her volunteer to come along.
“Alright, then, Verri. Grab your kit and meet me in the smoke pit. You are reassigned,” Kenny smirked before facing about and patting Kinlit's shoulder, signaling the Dwarve to follow.
“You can’t be serious about going to work with the one-handed devil,” Cerbel said, finally sitting up. She looked at Verri in what seemed like near horror. “We have both heard the horror stories of what he used to do. Do you really want to go crawling through mud, shooting people, and spending days stuck in a hole in the ground?”
“I am serious,” Verri replied, going over to the wall and gathering her small rucksack.
“Come on, Verri, don’t leave me here. Who am I supposed to talk to?” Cerbel pouted.
“You can spend time with Helk,” Verri reminded, pointing over to one of the Dwarves on their squad who was drawing a diagram for some kind of machine in the dirt.
Cerbel cringed, looking at the strange Dwarve. The man was undoubtedly one of the Platoon's most difficult members to speak to; he could not maintain eye contact or chat about the goings-on on base. The only thing he seemed good at was obsessing over Human technology.
“That sounds horrible,” Cerbel bemoaned.
“I’m certain you will make due,” Verri replied, donning her backpack.
Before Verri had even managed to take a single step, Cerbel grabbed her hand and yanked her into a full-bore hug. “I’m going to miss you. Please don’t forget to write.”
Verri hesitantly hugged Cerbel back. The Elf was hesitant because she had done this song and dance hundreds of times over the years.
She would be assigned to spy on someone, a city, or a group. Then, after infiltration, the locals became infatuated with her—be that as a friend, potential lover, or dear confidant.
But they never knew her. They only knew the facade she presented them.
Her facade was tailored to each performance. She could be a shy bookworm, a staunch warrior, a stern teacher, or a lascivious temptress. Verri was whatever they needed her to be.
So, these goodbyes always felt hollow, vapid, and pointless. They were all tailored to the persona she was putting on at the time. It was not her saying goodbye to a friend, it was just starting a new job; that is what she kept telling herself, at least.
“I’m going to miss you too,” Verri smiled, keeping in line with the bubbly, charming woman character Cerbel and the rest of the platoon knew her as.
Once Cerbel had let Verri go, the Elven spy picked up her K2 and set off to meet with Kenny.
Unlike all the other times, Verri paused before leaving the area. Looking back, she saw Cerbel and a few of the other platoon members smiling and waving her goodbye.
Verri did not know why she decided to pause. She could only summarize it as wanting to see the platoon one last time.
Realizing that was the reason was odd.
The platoon was a bunch of rough and tumble good for nothings who were slammed together by sapients from another universe. None of them had anything in common—yet they struggled, laughed, cried, ate, slept, and trained together.
In a simple term, unlike her other assignments, this one was fun—standby time withstanding, Verri did not want to say goodbye to them.
If only Verri could genuinely be the woman, they knew. But that is not the card she was dealt. No, she was just a spy, another cog in the machine of war—it wasn’t like she was ever genuinely someone.
—
“Took you long enough,” Kenny said, taking a drag from one of his last genuine cigarettes from Earth.
He had managed to squirrel away a few logs of dip and American Spirits before they crossed the Veil, knowing the likelihood of getting any more of it was slim to none. After selling most and using the rest, he was down to one pack of Spirits and a single can of Grizz.
It was a shame that he was almost out; Kenny was not ready to give up nicotine, but that local trash did not do it for him. It was bitter, flavorless, and did not give the same buzz. Why the other Human Veil riders enjoyed it was beyond him, but it wasn’t his issue.
“I was saying my goodbyes, si—er Kenny,” Verri replied, snapping to attention and saluting the Human now that they had covers on and were outside.
“For the love of god, don’t start that shit,” Kenny replied, rolling his eyes and weakly saluting back. “We are going to be a team, just us. No sir, Gunnery Sergeant, or anything other than Kenny, got it?”
“Got it,” Verri replied, seamlessly slipping into the role Kenny wanted her to fill. For Verri, it was always like pulling on a new pair of clothes and assuming another character to play onstage.
“Perfect, have a seat,” Kenny replied, gesturing at the other side of the table.
As Verri sat down, Kenny pulled out a notepad and pencil and started to jot down some information. At first, Verri wondered what it was, but eventually, it was clear he was making a list.
Whatever he was listing was extensive; he covered both the front and back of three pages in the notebook. Kenny occasionally paused and pondered something before erasing a line and then putting something else. But other than those occasional hesitations, he was confident about his writing.
“Could I read over our orders while you do that?” Verri questioned, wanting to know more about what sort of mission they were going on. If the one-eyed devil was involved, it likely was an assassination or sabotage mission; there was no way it truly was just a local contact operation.
Sending him, of all people, to just meet the local flavor of dirt dweller seemed frivolous. After all, what she had heard in the DFAC and smoke pit led her to believe the man could hide in an open field.
“Yeah,” Kenny replied, producing Koko's orders. “Oh yeah, write down your name and platoon information; I need it.”
“Ok, I will,” Verri replied, noting that on her paper after taking the copy of the orders and unfolding them.
Verri read the orders and, using her years of training and practice recalled each word without needing to review it.
Overall, the orders were flawless for her needs as a spy for the Wilmit-Nung. She and Kenny would go to The Last Tower to contact the local government and other notable people.
Their interactions would pave the way for the Veil Rider army to move into and establish itself further in the region.
With the order being so generic and open, it would be a marvelous opportunity for her to work with and learn how Humans operate, think of other races, and learn about their overall goal.
Kenny would have no choice but to rely upon her and slowly feed her valuable information; there is no way this could fail,
Verri thought that until Kenny handed her the list of items. “I need you to have all of this ready by tomorrow.”
Verri glanced at the list, not even needing to read the entire thing before looking back at Kenny like he was insane. “What is all this?”
Verri had seen some insane requisition requests while working in the Mortar battery, but those were just for dumb things: a horse, kegs of ale, used panties, or maybe even a few hookers.
But Kenny’s wish list was a whole other level of ‘out there.’ The top few lines made sense: food, clothes, fuel, radios, and other miscellaneous equipment all Veil Rider troopers used. But it quickly devolved into a tome of madness.
Grenades, C4, rockets, mortars and tubes, sniper rifles, claymores, extra K2 rifles, M240 machine guns, anti-material rifles, an M2 browning, and why in all the world did he want over twenty thousand rounds of ammunition?
Verri could not help but wonder if this human was planning on taking Last Tower hostage.
There were hardly even any medical supplies on the list, just a few IFAKs(individual first aid kits)
Verri was about to question Kenny on the matter but held her tongue, knowing she had to make an excellent first impression. It wasn’t like the armory would give her half of these things, even with the one-eye devil's name backing the request.
“Is this everything?” Verri questioned.
Kenny extinguished the lit bud of his cigarette in his fingers. “I need your rifle and rifle card.”
“What for?” Verri asked, placing her Dwarven K2 and rifle card on the table.
“I’m going to be getting you something better for what we are going to be doing,” Kenny said, standing up and snatching the two items.
Verri had no idea what this human could think of as an upgrade to the standard rifle she and many other troops were trained on. Sure, there was the FAL that was more common in the hands of frontline troops, but this Human would not be thinking of that—especially if the list he provided was anything to go by.
“Alright, is there anything else?” Verri asked, also standing.
Kenny stopped and checked her K2 to see if it was loaded before addressing the question. “Nah, just have the ‘vic ready to go with everything tomorrow morning just before dawn,” Kenny shrugged before walking toward the armory.
Verri sighed and looked back over the list, letting Kenny go. She prayed to Ledes that this would not be how this entire assignment would be. As she saw it, this man was ready to go out and start a fight, not make peaceful contact with the locals.
She hoped this was just a bad first impression, that he genuinely had a plan for all of this, and that she was not just arming a wannabe warlord. There was enough sentiment going around about Yule and Koko that the thought niggled at her as she set off toward the motor pool to start the long and arduous process of collecting Kenny’s wishlist.