“You’re bringing trouble to us again, don’t you?”
Samantha stares at the man with a notable mustache, who looks with vindication towards her teacher. This man is the one later known as Martin Sanchez, and Samantha’s first arrival in the camp of Fenrir Mercenaries bear no pleasantness.
Her teacher, with his usual relaxed demeanor, simply smiles yet no one knows how his eyes look behind those dark sunglasses.
“I’ll be busy, and I won’t be able to look after my students. I also learned you’re having trouble securing your weapon supplies. I contacted the shipping magnate’s oldest son to strike a deal with you.”
Martin frowns.
“After disappearing for eight years and bringing us a kid here? You gotta be shitting on me.”
“Who said this kid is gonna be a burden?”
Without a split second, Martin snatches her teacher’s collar.
“Hanzel is gonna despise you even more, you freaking bastard.”
Her teacher’s smile dissipates and shoves Martin away.
“Teach everything you know to this kid,” he says, “and I’ll pay for it.”
The teacher leaves and it is the last time she will see him. Samantha turns to Martin, who seems now composed, yet rage still fills his eyes. Slowly turning to her, Samantha finally locks eyes with him.
“What’s your name, kiddo?”
Samantha hugs the bag she carries, tighter. “S-Samantha…Aran.”
Martin narrows his eyes. “…Samantha, from now on, you need to prove your place here to stay. If you fail to meet my expectations, I won’t hesitate to bring you back to that bastard. Understand?”
Samantha nods.
Accepting their terms is the only thing she can do. A mere ten years old kid to be thrown in that kind of harsh world, all she knows is to be obey—or else, she will be in trouble.
Time: 10:12 AM
Plutarch Mountains, 1575 meters northeast away from Hadrian Hollow
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Bravo Unit of Red Sparrow platoon patrols a different part of the mountains this time. The giant Hollow appears to be just behind them, as everyone carries a blaster for any quick assistance to the Hollow. Fortunately, there is only 1.12 percent for Hadrian Hollow to erupt again, as the regular cleanup is maintained diligently by the Obsidian Division. Hollow Investigative Association ensures to monitor the Hadrian Hollow at all times, as its shrinking has been consistent so far.
While lying flat to her stomach, Samantha remains alert within their current position.
Ivan lifts his arms alternately, stretching out some joints. They have been here for two hours, and they need to move elsewhere at 1100 hours. Myrna drinks from her water bottle, which is already halved.
Charow carefully moves to each member of her unit, handing them their rations. She taps Samantha’s shoulder and gives her food packet. Samantha nods as response, as the leader moves to the next person.
Samantha opens the food packet and takes out the chocolate bar first. Destroying the wrap, she bites a huge chunk.
This one bar is going to be enough for now.
The day is over, and everyone has returned to the outpost.
Samantha places her rifle under the bed and slides off the scarf from her neck. The sweat marks some spots from it and it seems to gross her out a little.
“Gosh, it’s really sticky,” Alisa says while also removing her scarf. “I wish to get on a proper bathhouse this time.”
Sheena overhears. “I know Elly and the others are planning to go to the town in their day off.”
“Their off is Saturday though, ours is Sunday,” Alisa says.
“Well, we can plan something for ourselves,” Sheena says.
Myrna takes off her jacket and dusts off some ants on her arms. The tent is filled with small complaints here and there, even though this is a common occurrence.
“Who’s gonna take a bath first?” Alisa asks everyone.
Sheena eyes each of the girls. “Go ahead. I still need to report to Sir Mace with Sergeant Charow.”
Alisa looks at Myrna. “Would it be fine if I go first? The heat is killing me.”
Myrna nods. “Sure.”
“Thank you, Rhodes!” Alisa sprints out with her belongings.
Charles approaches Sheena. “The utility unit is going to town. Is there anything you want me to buy?”
“Who gave you clearance?”
“Sergeant Charow did. She asked me to buy some items.”
Sheena looks at her squadmates. “Rhodes, Aran.”
“Carlishe Sunscreen, Corporal!” Myrna says.
Samantha raises her hand. “Red bean bun.”
“Carlishe Sunscreen, red bean bun…” Charles repeats while pointing at them, then lastly to Sheena. “Sarge?”
Sheena hands him a small piece of paper. “Everything in here. Thanks.”
Charles leaves the tent. It is not too long when Sheena also goes outside for the reporting, and the other tenants calm down a bit to rest, or by doing something else.
Ivan, who is lying on his folding bed, suddenly gets up.
“Where you at, Ivan?” Nigel asks.
“Call at home.”
“Say my regards to your mom.”
“You should check on Sally, too.”
Ivan steps out of the tent. Samantha finds herself observing everyone as usual, when Myrna speaks next, writing her journal.
“Patrolling duty would end next week…” Myrna mumbles. “Then we’ll be on the guarding posts next.”
Alisa arrives, whose face now looks brighter—and fresher.
“I’m done! There are two vacant showers right now, you should now go ahead while it’s still empty,” Alisa says.
“Oh, that’s lucky,” Myrna remarks. “Aran?”
Samantha grabs her bag, with a towel draping on her shoulder.
Charles jumps off the military truck, and the rural town brings a bit of change to the atmosphere.
“Tausend, here!” Another soldier calls him. He is Sergeant Hanson Caballero, a soldier in the utility unit, whom Charles is acquainted with.
“‘Kay, ‘kay.”
The duo heads towards a small grocery store. Going straight to shelves with baskets each, Hanson speaks.
“Tell you what, the chef was angry earlier. The kitchen ran out of oyster sauce,” Hanson says.
Charles chuckles. “Really? That kinda explains why some oldies look mad.”
“Oh, if you have just seen it, someone complained hard then the chef and the officer almost chase each other with knives,” Hanson reminisces.
“Wow, I wish I was there, but it didn’t continue so eh,” Charles replies.
Charles adds items to his basket with the list Sheena has given him. Hanson also fills his with condiments.
“Reminds me a bit,” Charles speaks again, “I heard some certain guys are seeking shelter here in the ‘block’.”
Hanson nods. “We’re tailed the other day so, you guys have to be careful, too.” He suddenly leans closer to Charles. “Just heads up, there are some talks that our ranks here in the outpost is infiltrated by ‘spooks’. I know you guys aren’t one of them, but you must practice discreetness from now on. Some of our brothers were ‘captured’, but who knows right?”
“Oh, thanks. Gotta tell it to my mates.”
Their baskets are already full. They proceed to the counter for payment.
The cashier totals Charles’ basket. “It’s 12,714 dennies in total.”
“Oh shoot, I only have 10 grand,” Charles says.
“Just add it here with me,” Hanson says then turns to cashier. “Please combine our goods.”
The cashier follows.
“Thanks, man,” Charles says.
“Well, they’ll reimburse this anyway, don’t mind it,” Hanson replies. The transaction is done, and the duo makes their way out of the store.
Heading straight to the pickup truck, Charles notices a young man looking at them. He knows it is not just a simple stare, as the young man leaves.
Charles climbs the truck and sits beside Hanson while waiting for other soldiers to return.
“I had a feeling that the Diamond guys would be stationed here soon, except the admin refuses to do that just not to escalate things,” Charles says.
Hanson ponders. “Perhaps one day, once they build a Shiyu Pillar here. I heard there are still talks with the chieftains in the area, which really, I wonder if they can reach an agreement at all with them.”
“Man, it’s been decades. Eridu still fails to convince the folks here in Faunus Quarter,” Charles says.
“What can you do anyway. Our predecessors are stupid for trying to coerce them, at the same time, these folks value their freedom,” Hanson says. “Isn’t that the reason the recruitments are declining? I wish I should’ve been assigned to Lonsdaleite, the pay is better there…”
“Dude, if another Chryso will hear that, they’ll bury you to the ground,” Charles jests.
Hanson chuckles. “We both love and hate being a Chrysoberyl mutt.”
“If pay is the concern, you’ll have easier time if transferring to Obsidian.”
“Bro, you’ll become an Ethereal before you can get the benefits! Only elites can last long on that division!”
Charles laughs. “Yeah, they have a separate aptitude test for Obsidian recruits. We have taken them though, since we’re in the Assault Brigade. You’re gonna be good!”
Hanson grimaces. “Just no thanks, bro.”
Hollow are danger since forever, but they are not the only threat in this world. People with different paths can shake the law and order—to betterment or deterioration, and with innocents involve, they must proceed with caution. Charles always keeps this in mind, and one wrong move can be the wrong for all.
Each division has its own name and symbol, and some can be proud of their assigned posts. However, like any other job, some are just fulfilling their roles for a paycheck, and some also hope they can contribute to change by just being honest in their duties.
Samantha stares at her uniform, specifically to the insignia on the right sleeve. A shield in the background, with sword and axe crossed over, and below is embroidered letters of Chrysoberyl Division and its motto.
Semper fidelis esto.
Be always faithful.
Samantha stares around seeing everyone resting and sleeping. Myrna is snoring, causing her to feel drowsy as well, as Samantha lies down, hugging her uniform.
Charles then finally arrives.
He walks to his bed, who is just beside the resting Nigel. Charles places the paper bag down the floor and sits down. The sergeants are missing, and so he will just wait for them to arrive.
“That’s quite plenty,” Nigel says and peeks on the paper bag. “Oh, detergents. It’s Sheena’s?”
“Yeah. Also, Sergeant Charow’s. I guess they didn’t like how the quartermasters do the laundry here. The crew changed I believed.”
Nigel almost laughs loudly but holds it with a simple cackle.
“We’ll still smell like shit, but they are still meticulous about this,” Nigel remarks.
“Even I appreciate good laundry, boss. I have to agree with the ladies,” Charles says. “I bought bulk, so they don’t have to complain every now and then. Good thing, my guy Hanson paid for it. There might be an inspection soon, so we won’t be allowed to go out of the outpost for some time again, except during duty hours.”
“Well, not surprising. If the admin of Defense Force remains blind of real issues, they will do a last-minute panic stuff as usual,” Nigel says and lies flatly, using his hands as pillows. “What’s important we just need to stay honest and clean in our duties.”
“Do you need a detergent for that, Allard?” Charles asks.
“Would that even clean my darkest desires?”
“Probably, we can try it first if the concentrated formula of Lion Flash can clean Ivan’s dirty mind.”
“You asshat.”
Cackles.
“Oh wait.” Charles takes out a smaller paper bag, separate from the detergents. He looks at the bed across from him yet seeing that Samantha is sleeping. Nevertheless, he approaches her bed and places the paper bag beside her pillow.
Upon returning to his bed, Charles speaks.
“The child using the uniform as blanket,” Charles says.
Nigel looks as well. “What did you put there?”
“Ah, it’s her red bean bun. For some reason she really likes that a lot.”
“Well, at least we’re learning what she likes. I’m still baffled how a kid like her is a sniper, when that role takes intense training to master,” Nigel comments. “Her upbringing must be so intense, and I can’t imagine how is that possible sometimes. I also had a daughter and as much as possible I won’t expose her to some violence or such.”
“It can’t be helped sometimes, I guess. But that’s why I’m thankful to my mom for beating me at times if I get myself into trouble. Now I’m left to take care of my younger brothers, and literally the one next to me is 12 years old, which…just a little younger than Sammy,” Charles says. “I’m gonna feel like a failure if someone that young would be wielding a gun already.”
Nigel closes his eyes. “It is what it is, sometimes, really. Guess the best thing we could do now, is to stay alive.”
“Anyways, where’s Ivan?” Charles asks.
“On the booth again. Calling his mom.”
“Ah, I see.” Charles contemplates. “I gotta make a call later then, too. I need to check how Lakia and Comel are.”
Night has finally arrived.
The dinner tonight has been tastier than ever, at least that is what Samantha thinks. The last few days have stale flavor, even though she is used with blander foods. The burger steak is so good, and she can see how everyone is thankful for a delightful dinner.
As Samantha finishes her plate, Myrna notices her standing up.
“You done, already?” Myrna asks and Samantha nods.
“I’m…returning to the tent,” Samantha says.
“Don’t you wanna try the dessert, first?” Myrna asks. Samantha shakes her head. “Alright. Promise me that you won’t go elsewhere other than the tent, okay?”
Samantha nods again.
After placing the plate and utensils in the dishwasher bin, Samantha leaves the mess hall. She is getting used with the crowd and noise at night, which seldomly happens back in Fenrir unlike here. After a bit of looking around, the young blonde heads back to their tent.
She expects the tent to be empty, but with the silence of the resting area in the outpost, she hears some kind of…noise. It is not the usual noise that irritates her ears, but a soothing one, almost lulling her to listen more. She stops for a moment, trying to pinpoint where it is coming from, but she must keep her promise to Myrna so she will not get in trouble. Closing in to her tent, Samantha notices that the ‘noise’ actually originates from their tent.
Upon entering, Samantha finds the Lyre Squad’s leader, sitting on her bed with something on her mouth.
A little surprised—Samantha remains standing still until the Staff Sergeant notices her. Their eyes meet, and Samantha stiffens further. As the young blonde almost gazing away, Charow speaks.
“Have you seen a harmonica before?” Charow asks.
Samantha, quiet for a moment, shakes her head.
Charow moves a bit and pats a space on her bed. “Do you want to know?”
Samantha purses her lips and…nods.
She moves her feet and goes where Charow is, then sits down to the space that Charow has provided her with. The young soldier finally takes a clearer look at the object from Charow’s mouth earlier, which is a small handheld thing with square holes on one side. Charow offers it to her and Samantha receives it with her two hands.
“Try to blow air on the holes,” Charow instructs.
Samantha stares at it for a moment, having a short distance from her face. Samantha blows—as a sharp tingle has sounded. Samantha blows air again as different sounds come out.
“What is this…Sergeant?” Samantha asks.
“It’s an aerophone, which uses air to produce sound,” Charow explains and then takes the harmonica again, “and to make it sound even more cohesive, you’ll do it like this.”
Charow puts the harmonica on her mouth again and puffs her cheeks—sliding the harmonica sideways. There is sound, but this time indeed, similar to what Samantha is hearing earlier. There is like a rhythm, a crescendo, then a diminuendo, and pleasantness to the ears to listen. But even so, Samantha stares at Charow—and she is seeing a different picture from what she knows. A hint of something unclear, rejection, and somewhat…fear.
Without Samantha noticing, her hands slowly clenching.
Charow finishes—with her eyes looking somber. The staff sergeant looks at her and hands the harmonica again to the kid’s palms again.
“Try it,” Charow says.
Samantha blinks and stares at the harmonica. She then also puts it to her mouth and puffs her cheeks, then blows some air. She tries sliding it as well, but unlike from what she heard earlier, the tune she is making sounds…undesirable to hear.
“Uhm…” Samantha’s cheeks are red. “It isn’t like yours…”
Expecting some criticism, Samantha sees Charow smile and chuckle for the first time.
“It’s alright. No one is great at the beginning. I just tested you. You want to play it well then?” Charow asks.
Samantha, feeling unsure again, just nods.
“Well, first and foremost then, you need to have your own harmonica,” Charow says, “just for hygienic reasons.”
“Where can I buy a harmonica?” Samantha asks.
“I’ll get you one soon.”
From the gloom, Charow’s eyes now appear starry.
Unknowingly, it puts Samantha’s heart at ease.
Meanwhile, deep in the Plutarch Mountains…
“There is a route in the back of the mountains, northeastern from Hadrian Hollows. Just look at my coordinates and add approximately 400 meters in my position.” Someone says, a recon unit, towards his communicator. He is filled with grass ghillie suit and using a night vision binocular to watch people from afar.
A static and a reply from the communicator.
“Any notable objects or activity?”
“It seems they are carrying something on their backs, at least while protected by their gunmen. I reckon it could be some of the kidnapped soldiers.”
“Alright, thank you. Keep the watch, then we’ll send you supplies 0500 in the morning at the designated coordinates.”
“Copy.”
The communicator has turned off as this recon unit keeps watch. He then speaks again towards his companion.
“Hoover, check the path in your 9,” he instructs.
“Yes, sarge,” Brent affirms. This recon unit consists of five people in Lupus Squad. Corporal Brent Hoover, Private First Classes Ziggs Efflstein and Charity Vox, Sergeant Gavin Nichols and lastly…
Staff Sergeant Zachariah Combs, the leader of Lupus Squad.
They are given the mission to find where the Gradiva Freedom Fighters are taking route for their supplies, which continues to surprise them even though the military already locked the road to the nearby towns. An assumption is made that the Hollow is being used, but the question is looking for entrances.
Unfortunately, their Hollow path is going to be blocked next.