For every soldier, there is a story. A background. A motivation. A decision. A mistake. An inspiration, more so, a regret. There is common, and there are exceptions. For Maylene Charow, she is battling a war before even enlisting in the Defense Force.
In her 24 years of life existence, she is not strange to things that are not truly dissimilar.
It is Wednesday and the Bravo Unit led by Staff Sergeant Maylene Charow is assigned to a steeper and denser part of the mountains. Their team has not faced any encounters with the insurgents yet, despite the other teams having reports of it. While they must be ready for any surprise attacks, Maylene hopes for the best that they can finish their patrols safely and peacefully each time.
They have cleared the paths, yet they cannot be complacent enough. Their job is bound to be difficult and unpleasant—and this element of facing enemies make the situation harder.
The radio communicator in her ear becomes active.
“Bravo Unit, what’s the status?”
It is their platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Jake Jannsen.
“No signs of any opposing units, over,” Maylene says.
“Report immediately for any contact, over.”
“Affirmative.”
“The next unit that will take over your post will be arrive at 1400. Out.”
Maylene receives the order and looks at her wristwatch. Currently it is 12:06. However, the sky is not looking good. Just right when she raises her sight to the sky, a snake-like line trails over the clouds, then follows with a rumbling thunder.
Her lips stretch to a thin line.
Maylene notices Alisa flinching yet composes herself faster soon enough.
Just less than two hours of waiting. Maylene hopes the weather will not mean to mess her day furthermore.
Then plop.
Maylene removes her beret and rustles her hair.
Sheena stands beside her, whose hair is also drenched. The two head towards the tent where their lieutenant is. They are ordered to return to the outpost as quickly they are replaced in their post and given an early time to clock out. Great for the unit, except for these two leaders in their respective squads.
A rumbling thunder again, albeit weaker than the ones earlier while in the mountains.
Seconds later, drizzle sets in once again.
“It’s going to rain again…” Maylene says. “Too bad for those who are still on the patrol…”
“Laundry rooms are gonna be troublesome again soon,” Sheena says.
“Worse time to get deployed is during rainy season,” Maylene adds.
“Then if it’s summer, people will complain about bad odor,” Sheena argues.
Maylene shrugs. “I think it’s safe to say that people will always find something to complain.”
“Our leanings to negative stuff led things to improvements, still.”
“Probably.”
Reaching the tent, they find First Lieutenant Stewart Mace talking with another soldier.
A familiar one that is.
“Oh, it’s the second Crow,” Maylene says.
Sheena narrows her eyes and widens them next. “Wow, it’s miraculous to see Sergeant Dane here.”
The two ladies approach them as Mace notices them.
“Oh, right on timing,” Mace says, “your teammates are here, Patrick.”
Staff Sergeant Patrick Dane turns to them and gives them a salute with a smile—and it is reciprocated.
“I apologize I’m late, Macandro,” Dane says.
Sheena cannot help but sigh.
The atmosphere is expected to be stiff as the other soldiers in the tent seem to be wary of them.
Mace chuckles.
“I’m quite fascinated seeing all Sir Westley’s squadmates in here again,” Mace says with fondness. “Dane would be leaving to next generation again when he becomes a warrant officer, no?”
Dane cackles. “Well, that one is being delayed, too. They are wondering why I’m not in the deployment, when they’re the ones who mess it up.” He looks at Sheena. “But I owe a lot to Macandro for handling paperwork.”
“I’m honored that you still remembered us, Sergeant,” Sheena says.
Dane turns to Maylene. “Thank you for taking care of my squad in my absence.”
“You know that ‘thank you’ doesn’t exactly work on me…” Maylene says.
Staff Sergeant Dane scratches his cheek until First Lieutenant Mace speaks again.
“I know a caff downtown and I was thinking of treating everyone for their hard work. And the delicacies are great that I heard Sergeant Dane will pay half for the platoon,” Mace says.
“Sounds promising, Lieutenant Mace,” Maylene quickly affirms.
“I knew it that Sergeant Dane is a generous person,” Sheena adds.
“Oh…” Dane scratches his cheek again. “If that means I can be forgiven then…”
“Flick his forehead.”
Samantha stretches her arm and flicks Ivan’s forehead as per Charles’ order. Ivan’s head recoils from it, as Samantha sits beside Charles again then munches her red bean bun. Being back early from patrolling leaves the Bravo Unit to their boredom, and so, the guys in the unit have decided to play a variant of rock-paper-scissors, which has rules of three rounds done consecutively, with the last one determining the winner.
Ivan scratches his forehead again, which the redness is notable.
Nigel and George watches closely from the side, making bets on who will win next.
“You’ll get the taste of your own medicine next, Charles!” Ivan declares, rubbing his palms aggressively.
Charles chuckles. “Let the hands do the talking, then!”
Ivan furrows his brows, weirdly appearing to be serious and concentrated in this match. First round, he has rock—Charles shows scissors. Second—scissors and scissors. Ivan anticipates that Charles will go for a bluff—and so, Ivan releases paper.
Only for Charles to remain scissors.
“Ahhh!” Ivan slams his thighs in frustration.
Just to get a smack behind his head.
“It’s obvious it’s gonna be scissors!” Nigel berates.
Ivan turns to him like a child. “How am I supposed to know, Corporal?”
“Thanks for not betraying my expectations, brother,” George says, stretching his fist to Charles and the latter bumps it.
“Always bet on me,” Charles says, flashing a full grin.
“G-George, you too?!” Ivan whines.
Myrna has witnessed everything, just on a bed behind the active arena. She leans back and relaxes a bit when someone invades the free space beside her—Alisa.
The soldier with platinum blonde hair smiles at Myrna.
“Hope you aren’t bored today, Myrna!” Alisa says then her face becomes horrified. “Uhh, wait is it alright if I call you already in your first name?”
Myrna raises a brow. “Mhmm…yeah sure. I don’t mind.”
Alisa grimaces in embarrassment. “Sorry, I hope you don’t find me overbearing. There are privates like me in Lupus Squad but, both of them are guys. I’ve been wanting to kinda…loosen a bit comfortably.”
“You’re good. I think it will help me adjust in the team, too,” Myrna replies.
“Hehe, thanks. Oh yeah, uhm, I want to ask you something but promise me you won’t get angry!”
Myrna ponders. “Let me guess, it’s about my age?”
“Eh? How did you figure out that one?”
“I heard that you had a certain upbringing, PFC Vox told me.”
“Ah,” Alisa smiles sheepishly, “yeah… It’s a certain culture in my neighborhood so it became a habit of mine to ask someone’s age if I want to be close to them…”
“I’m 20,” Myrna answers. “You?”
“17,” Alisa says.
Myrna widens her eyes. “You’re young.”
Alisa nods. “I dropped out high school just to join the military.”
“Yeah, I also had a lot of batchmates with same age as yours,” Myrna says, “but it never ceases me to surprise when I’m hearing someone younger than me taking courage of enlisting.”
“I’m kinda after the college benefits, so I thought of doing it. After this, I’ll be taking an alternative education to finish my high school, then I can go straight to a university,” Alisa says. “At least I’ll get a badge that I can show off to my future classmates that I did something to combat the Hollows!”
“It’s nice to have a dream…” Myrna says.
“How about you? Why did you join the Force?” Alisa asks.
“Similar reasons. I had high Ether aptitude so I gotta make some use of it,” Myrna says. “My parents are getting old, so I have to sacrifice years of comfort to get a stable income then perhaps open a small business for my siblings.”
“Oh, so you still have your parents… How many kids you are?”
“Five, I’m the second eldest. The one next to me is a year younger than you, then the other two are still in elementary. Then my older brother is helping with farming,” Myrna ponders. “I know it’s harvest season. Too bad I wasn’t there to help.”
Alisa is starry eyed. “Ohh…so you own a land?”
“Nope. It’s a communal land, so we’re more like helpers,” Myrna corrects. “Pluto Quarter will welcome you with dairies and grains, and your table won’t be out of rice.”
“Wow, that makes me wanna visit your place then,” Alisa says.
“I plan to go home during holidays, but I’m sure you’ll have a place to return to during those times.”
Alisa purses her lips. “Well, if you desire it, there’s a way. I wanna see Etna’s hometown someday, too.”
“Oh? You like Millet Girls?” Myrna asks.
Alisa gasps then gazes sharply. “Run boy run~”
“You don’t have a place to go~” Myrna adds. Alisa suddenly giggles.
“Waah, you know them! I like their songs a lot. I bought some of their albums when they were released. Sadly, I can’t do it now, coz well, obviously…”
“I’m just casual when they debuted in 2007, but we can agree that 2009 is the year they skyrocketed in popularity,” Myrna comments.
Alisa cannot contain her smile. “I became a fan of them in 2009, too! I always listen to my Alley3 to sleep back then.”
As the girls are busy in their world, Ivan loses another round.
“You’re a hard knock today, Ivan,” Nigel says. Ivan fakes crying, even wiping his face with his arm.
“Okay Sam, do the honors for me please,” Charles says.
Samantha almost grabs another red bean when getting another order. She stares at Ivan’s face and then to his forehead. All red. She stands up and when they expect the punishment—Samantha merely taps her palm to his forehead.
“Oh, even Aran is taking pity on you, too, Ivan,” George teases.
Samantha goes back to her seat and finally starts eating another red bean bun.
Ivan snorts. “At least someone is being a kind soul towards me.”
Charles shows an annoying expression, eyes pinning to Ivan. “Tch, hard knock.”
Ivan glares then raises his arm. “You bare that ugly face on me!”
“What you wanna fight?” Charles taunts.
“Fight, fight!” George encourages.
Myrna has been staring at the guys. “Wow, it’s funny they are going serious about this.”
Alisa grimaces. “Eh, they do that all the time. Had to endure their idiosyncrasies alone before coz our squad leaders are often busy with other things. Doesn’t help sometimes that Corporal Allard is joining their fun… That’s why I’m happy there are other girls finally here in our unit, someone will be able to understand me.”
As the banter goes on, Myrna accidentally looks at the quiet kid beside the rowdy guys. Samantha is eating peacefully and Myrna is always amazed at the calmness this child exudes. However, the same trait causes Myrna to wonder what life Samantha has in the past.
Little do they know their squad leaders have returned to their tent. Nigel is first to notice and immediately changes his expression to a serious one.
Staff Sergeant Maylene Charow, Sergeant Sheena Macandro—and Staff Sergeant Patrick Dane.
Myrna turns around and sees them, looking surprised to see their actual squad leader here.
“It seems everyone is doing fine,” Dane says. Charles hears and perks up.
“Sarge!” Charles says. “Ah, did they send you then, still?”
Dane chuckles. “Yeah.” He stares around and spots Samantha.
He smiles.
“How’s our young sniper here?” Dane says.
Samantha jolts then nods. “I-I’m doing good, Sergeant Dane…”
“That’s indeed great to hear.”
With the rowdy crowd earlier, Myrna is fascinated to see the atmosphere shifting so fast to a more professional air. Her encounter with Sergeant Dane is not more than three, despite him being their squad leader, but she can see how much this unit respects him. One can say probably because he is a higher ranking enlisted officer, but there is indeed different and not just simply a service for the rank.
“You can use this bed, sarge,” Sheena says to Dane.
“Oh great, there’s a space for me.”
“I believe they expect you to come here so they put an extra bed,” Maylene adds.
As Myrna observes the three higher ranking NCO, the pitter-patter on the tent roof goes strong.
Staff Sergeant Dane looks up to the ceiling. “Is there no leak here?”
“Well nope,” Maylene informs.
“Lucky, we have a sturdy tent then,” Dane comments then turns to Charles. “Charles! Let’s setup the heaters!”
“Coming, sarge,” Charles responds to his side.
Nigel taps Ivan and George, as Samantha watches the guys leaving the tent.
There are different kinds of job in the military. Civilians often think of infantry as the only thing that soldiers do, but in reality, it is merely one of many other departments. Like any organization, the military functions with several roles intact and even the unassuming ones can be crucial for the survival of the whole Defense Force.
Turning the last heater on for one line of tents, Staff Sergeant Dane straightens up his posture as a maintenance soldier cannot express his gratitude enough with the help they have gotten.
“This is a great help, Sergeant Dane,” Corporal Jasper Mueller says, part of the maintenance platoon within Junco Company.
“Just say my regards to Sergeant Morrow,” Dane replies.
“Will do. I’ll be checking the other heaters. Thank you again, sarge, for helping in this area.” Corporal Mueller leaves.
Dane turns to his comrades. “Ah the rain won’t stop so soon. Not a good time to smoke.”
Nigel, who is holding an umbrella, contemplates a bit.
Ivan then speaks. “I know cigarettes won’t really go out in the rain.”
Dane chuckles. “Well, thanks for assisting lads, as always.”
“It’s our pleasure to always work with you, sarge,” George says.
Nigel laughs this time. “It seems someone here wants to follow your footsteps, Sergeant Dane.”
“Just work harder, you can apply to become warrant officers,” Dane jests. “You can now return to the tent. The ladies must be wondering why we’re taking too long.”
“We’ll be off, sarge,” Nigel says. As Charles is to follow the rest, Sergeant Dane calls him quickly.
“Charles, stay here.”
Charles runs back beside Dane, as now both stand under a roof.
“I saw there’s a good space behind the mess hall,” Dane says. “Light me up some tobacco there.”
Charles knows where this is going.
“Aye, sarge.”
Light. A hand. Then smoke flailing in the air.
Charles turns the lighter off and slides it back to his pocket. They sit on a bench side-by-side, as Charles crosses his fingers in boredom, eventually making hand signs.
“Aren’t you gonna smoke, Tausend?” Dane asks.
Charles shakes his head. “I don’t smoke at all, sarge.”
Dane chuckles. “Years have passed, yet still resistant in smoking. That’s admirable from you.”
Charles smiles a bit. “Ever since a close relative of mine died of lung cancer, I’ve become too conscious of my health.”
“Yet you always stood by us and light our cigarettes. Secondhand smoking is just deadly as the smoker. Not to mention the number that our job doing to our body.”
“My doctor said my lungs are still healthy,” Charles says.
Staff Sergeant Dane puffs out smoke. The ash from the cigarette falls on the ground while he stares at the raindrops.
“Ah, pity our comrades in the mountains by now. The rain won’t stop any soon.” Dane then taps his cigar. “Anyways, are you talking with Maylene again?” he asks.
“We talk as courtesy of being fellow comrades in the field,” Charles replies.
Dane exhales smoke again from his lips—as his brows furrow, emitting a more serious expression.
“That’s great to hear, but of course, it would be better if it’s just like before. I’m aware however that it’s not gonna be easy,” Dane says. “I numbed myself thinking that sort of incident is inevitable, am I right?”
Charles places his thumbs atop his clasped hands.
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, sarge.”
Obvious answer. A sharp tinge. A fading smoke.
“After this mission, Sheena would be officially the squad leader. They asked me to participate in this deployment to fulfill my final duties for the platoon. I apologize that I had to leave both of you alone in the past ten months,” Dane says, “and as for you Charles, they are asking for you to complete the requirements so they can proceed for your promotion.”
Charles smirks. “They told the same thing many times before. It’s hard to believe them again.”
“You deserve a better pay, Charles,” Dane insists. “I’ll help you, even they use our squad to cover up some of their under-the-table talks.”
Charles frowns. “Do you mean Aran?”
“Like as I said last time, just look after her. You don’t have to poke your nose deeper, and that’s for the better.”
Dane presses the cigarette to the ground.
And he stands up.
“Charles, make sure to talk with Maylene again, got it?” Dane says.
Charles stares at him.
Charles steps onto the entrance of their tent, and he likes how there is an elevation to prevent the mud disturbing their sleeping quarters. He closes his umbrella and rests it on the rack. While the rain has concealed his footsteps to be noticed by his peers, he has to figure out how to get rid of the sudden weight on his shoulders. It is something that has never disappeared over the years, yet the talk with his staff sergeant earlier causes him to remember what he has been suppressing.
He can understand why that conversation must happen, but a nagging feeling tells him that it should never have happened at this point in time. It is inevitable, but undoubtedly, it is not the right moment.
Charles plans to head straight to his bed and get some rest, and perhaps, even skipping dinner even though he may get an earful later on. However, he finds it easier to drown himself from Sheena’s lectures than acting like everything is fine all the time. He wants to lie down already and…
He spots Myrna and Alisa talking, and the latter is smiling. He always hears complaints from the youngest of Lyre Squad, and even though she has no good opinion of him, Charles likes how bold and courageous she is in not succumbing to pressure. Myrna is one of their newbies, but he can see how she has been adjusting well in their squad. Myrna will be reliable—and Charles believes that wholeheartedly.
His eyes then finds Sheena next, combing Samantha’s hair. Sheena is a reliable comrade and also the person he wants to apologize for a lot. If not for her, Charles will never be here today. Five years of camaraderie, and five years’ worth of apology letter. And there is Samantha Aran, a reminder why he cannot just simply be stupid.
It seems the guys, George and Ivan, are tinkering at something again, and Charles knows for the best that George is a blessing to have him in their unit. Not just diligent and kind, George is a friend who can listen to him without much judgment. George is there when he is least expected, moreover when he is sought out for help. Ivan may be a polar opposite from George, but everything is a ride or die with him.
Nigel and Maylene seem to be in a conversation, as both of them are the ones who are keeping Lyre Squad together—to the extent, Corax Squad. Nigel, who is the oldest with them, never fails to demonstrate it to become a good example for the younger ones. With a family to return to, Nigel prioritizes that all of them must stay alive at all cost, a goal that Maylene truly shares and believes in.
And Maylene…
The desire to always clench his fists is strong again.
“Charles! Help us here!” Ivan calls. Charles snaps back to reality, seeing Ivan looking at him.
The Corax’ corporal goes closer to his Lyre brothers, learning finally that George is trying to open a W-Engine.
“Where did you get that?” Charles asks then pulls a chair.
“It’s from the Petrel Platoon,” George says. “I just saw their engineer about to surrender it to the artillery unit, but I took it since I may figure out to fix it. They already found a replacement, but it seems they aren’t prickly about this one.”
“But that’s still numbered,” Charles says.
“Relax, I’ll still surrender this tomorrow, I’m just trying my luck.”
“What exactly isn’t working?” Charles asks. George goes on to explain. As Charles listens intently, he remembers that he still has friends to be with.
There is no reason to carry everything on his shoulders.