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Rated: 13+ · Book · Sci-fi · #2033640
An Alliance soldier travels to a war-torn planet, her heritage quickly catches up
#843532 added March 14, 2015 at 9:25am
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Chapter Two

Chapter Two


         Nathalya awoke the next morning to find she was alone.  She climbed out of bed, but did not bother with her morning ritual.  Instead, she simply put her uniform on, brushed her teeth and grabbed her bag.  She swung it over her shoulder and accidentally knocked the box her father had left for her off of the table.  She picked it up and unwrapped it.  Inside she found a hinged box containing a golden ring that hung from a silver chain and a note.  She read the note aloud.  It was short and to the point.


         "This ring and necklace belonged to your mother.  I've kept them for years and have finally found the strength to let them go.  Perhaps some day you will have a daughter of your own to pass them on to.  All the world to you, your loving father."


         Nathalya felt a renewed courage filling her heart as she fastened the chain loosely around her neck and tucked it beneath her collar.  She tightened the straps on her pack and walked out of her room.  She ate a small plate of breakfast cakes at the mess hall before heading to the departure bay. 

         Checking the announcement board, she saw that she would be flying into Xera, a supply hub and headquarters just outside of the Bal'Ghaz forest.  She would then join an armed convoy heading North to Juliette's forward base in a valley below the Hollin mountain range.  The butterflies in her stomach returned now that she was so close to leaving.  She sat quietly in the terminal, watching the people around her.  There were many soldiers, young and old, waiting for the flight. 

         Sitting across from her was a group of scientists talking together.  They spoke in hushed voices and Nathalya watched as one passed a white envelope to another in a long white coat and glasses.  They all had the same anxious look on their faces;  the look of someone who was about to plunge head first into the icy and deadly unknown.  When she passed her eyes over the back of the terminal, she noticed three people standing together.  She got up and ran over to them, feeling her fear turn to anxiety.

         "Father, Trin, Jones.  I'm glad you all came to see me off," she said.

         "Wow, you look terrible," Wells said to Nathalya, who smiled and let out a small laugh. 

         "Anyway, your father and Jones came to see you off, but I am coming with you.  I'm assigned to you as your Technical," said Wells.  Nathalya noticed the large bag behind Wells for the first time.

         "What!? No, you can't!  You said you'd go AWOL if..."

         "Stop.  Just accept it before I change my mind.  How long is this flight anyway?" asked Wells, looking nervous.

         "How?" asked Nathalya.

         "After you told us where you were going, I went to my superior and requested that he cancel my assignment to Victor unit and transfer me to Juliette instead.  He owed me a favor, anyway.  It was a chore keeping this secret as we hung out yesterday, I don't think I have any fingernails left."

         Nathalya looked at Jones.  He was smiling kindly.

         "Jones, it has been a pleasure.  I hope we can see each other again," she said.

         "As do I.  You know where I'll be if you need a new Technical because she got too scared and ran away," Jones taunted and pointed to Wells.

         Wells stuck her tongue out.  Nathalya laughed at Jones' attempt at humor and then looked at her father. 

         "Thank you for the gift," she said, pulling the chain and ring out of her shirt.

         "Take good care of it, it meant a lot to me and still does.  Your mother would be proud to see you standing there wearing it, all grown up."

         She hugged him, then hugged Jones as a voice over the loudspeaker announced the boarding of the flight to the surface. Nathalya's expression changed and a look of fear flashed across her face.

         "Don't be afraid, Nathalya.  Time to go," said Mr. Harms, who was still smiling lovingly.  Nathalya took a deep breath and, side by side, walked with Wells to the boarding gate. They presented their orders at the gate and Jones and Nathalya's father watched them pass through the gate and disappear around a bend.

         "She paid attention during training, right?" asked Mr. Harms to Jones.

         "Top of the class, Mr. Harms," replied Jones.  "Top of the class."

         

          Nathalya and Wells stepped out of the gate and into a large hanger and followed the railing to the small military aircraft that would carry them down to the surface of El'Anorath.  It looked old and rusty.  They climbed aboard and took their seats, which were little more than cargo netting stretched over bare steel bars.  They were alone at the back of the cargo hold.  They stowed their bags beneath them and tried to relax.

         The engines started once boarding was complete and the doors secured.  The craft vibrated around them and Nathalya wondered if it wouldn't shake itself apart.  Below them, large bay doors swung open and the craft hovered there for a moment.  Suddenly, and much to the chagrin of Nathalya's stomach, the transport dropped out of the bay and out of the Constable.  Directional thrusters soon came online with a whir and propelled them towards the lonely war-torn planet below.

         "Well, that was interesting," Wells said.  She looked a little worse for the wear.  The flight was not a long one and after an hour or so passed by, Nathalya could see tiny details of the ground below.  They flew over mountain tops and through thick white clouds.  There was no sign of civilization below. Even as they passed over open plains and deserts and finally a dark and deep forest, it all seemed vacant.

         Nathalya was about to remark on this when there came a sudden wrenching of metal and an explosion.  The transport stumbled and began to lose altitude.  Thick black smoke filled the cabin, stinging their eyes and choking their lungs.  Nathalya and Wells closed their eyes tightly and held on to the netting around them as the craft's erratic jars attempted to shake them apart. 

         Nathalya's adrenaline kicked in and things seemed to immediately slow to a manageable pace as she pushed the fear aside.  She reached beneath her seat and found her bag.  Swinging it over her back, she reached above her head to find her emergency parachute which she strapped onto a screaming Wells.  She pulled Wells up and dragged her to the back of the hold.  Without hesitation, she hit a large red button. The cargo door opened beneath their feet.

         Nathalya held on tightly to Wells as they fell, curling her hands around the straps of the parachute pack.  She felt for the release cable and pulled it.  The chute opened above their heads and nearly jerked loose her grip on the straps.  As they floated gently, Nathalya watched the craft fall end over end and then disappear into the thick tree canopy.  It exploded and erupted into flames as it slammed into the forest floor and began to billow thick black smoke.

         Nathalya looked at Wells as they continued their slow descent to the ground; she had passed out in the fall and her head hung lifeless.  Nathalya tightened her grip before they reached the ground and stumbled when they touched down.  She allowed Wells to fall on top of her and lay their for a moment before gently rolling her off to one side. Nathalya supported her head as she lay her down on the soft forest floor, then knelt to catch her breath.

         Taking survey, Nathalya saw that they had come down through an opening in the forest canopy.  She could see light above, but the forest around her was dark.  Wells stirred.

         "What happened?" she asked when she came to.

         "I think we were attacked," replied Nathalya.  "The pilot must have flown over Corrinite airspace on accident."

         "Well that was awfully stupid of him.  Where are the rest of the passengers?"

         "I don't think anybody else made it," explained Nathalya.  "But we should try to head for the crash site to make sure."

         Wells stood and dusted herself off.  She stretched her neck and it popped loudly.  Nathalya picked up the parachute and stuffed it back in the pack which she tossed to Wells.

         "Stay quiet and follow me," Nathalya directed and started walking.  Wells started to follow, but fell to one knee with a cry of pain at her first step.

         "I'm hurt.  I think I twisted my ankle or something," she said through a grimace.  Nathalya walked over and knelt beside her.

         "Take your boot off," she said.  Wells did so, gingerly.  She removed her sock to reveal a bruised and swollen ankle.  Nathalya felt it carefully.

         "The good news is that it isn't broken.  The bad news is we won't be able to go far. You need to rest it and keep it cool.  Put your boot back on and tie the laces tightly to help control the swelling.  I'll support you as we walk."

         Wells carefully put her boot back on and pulled the laces tight.  Nathalya helped her to her feet and pulled Wells' left arm over her shoulders and grabbed her around the waist. Together, they walked slowly in the direction of the crash site. Nathalya kept her eyes and ears alert for any sounds in the forest, which seemed to be closing in and surrounding them. 


         After a slow and painful trek, pushing beside clutching branches or stumbling over decaying stumps hidden under layers of dead leaves, they came across the wreckage.  The craft had carved a shallow channel as it skimmed the surface and lay in a pile of ash and embers at the end of a wide clearing.  Toxic black smoke still poured out of the mangled hull.  Nathalya set Wells on a large piece of debris and began to search the clearing for survivors, using her shirt to cover her mouth.  Only charred remains were to be found.

         Nathalya stood silent for a bit as her adrenaline began to wear off.  She looked around at the carnage and nearly unrecognizable heaps of metal.  Wells stood and limped over to her. She put a hand on Nathalya's shoulder and opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it instead.  The realization of what could have already been the end for them was setting in.

         "What now?" Wells asked after a time.

         "I don't know," replied Nathalya quietly.  "I suppose we ought to continue in the direction we were flying when we were shot down.  Let's move on before whoever did this comes looking for us."

         Nathalya helped Wells to her feet.  Before they could take a step, however, a faint cry issued from somewhere behind the clearing.

         "Help!" came the voice again, louder this time.  Nathalya set Wells back down and ran towards the voice. She came upon a man laying on the ground wearing a long and torn white coat, the edges slightly charred.  His glasses were bent and cracked on his aged face.  When he saw Nathalya approach he reached out a shaking hand towards her.

         "Help," he said again, almost whispering now. 

         "Where are you hurt?" Nathalya asked, looking him over.  His injury was considerable, his back and legs twisted unnaturally.  She knew that there was nothing she could do for him.

         "It's too late for me," he said through gasps.  "You must take this to our lab in Xera."

         Nathalya watched him as he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a single white envelope stained with red.  He stretched his arm out and held the envelope up.  It quivered for a second then fell beside him.  His eyes rolled back, but did not shut. Nathalya knelt closer and felt for a pulse.  When she didn't find one, she took the envelope from him and examined it.  It was sealed and had a single name scribbled in ink in shaky letters on the front; Toomes.

         She had half a mind to open it to find out why it was so important that she deliver it to Xera.  As Wells limped over the brush, using a long stick as a crutch, Nathalya stood and placed the envelop in her pocket.  Wells looked at the man and shook her head.

         "He didn't make it, did he?" she asked, looking back at Nathalya.

         "No, he died after asking me to get an envelope to Xera."

         "Did you open it?"

         "No, I don't want to focus on anything except making it to Xera in time for the convoy."

         The afternoon sun was high, but as they walked, Nathalya and Wells saw only what little light trickled down in thin beams through the dense treetops.  They were traveling north and west by Nathalya's best guess and the trees grew thicker and taller. There were no creatures around on the surface, but birds and owls called overhead.  The air was still and seemed heavy and oppressive.

         They occasionally passed over slender, cold creeks until they came upon a small and winding river.  It was clear and fish could be seen swimming in the deeper channels.  They followed the river for a time until Wells had had enough.

         "I've got to rest," she said.  "Any longer and I think my foot will fall off."

         They sat together and rested their backs against the thick, brown bark of a very large and round tree.  Wells propped her foot up on a root that protruded from the ground and sat rubbing her ankle.  Nathalya pulled a canteen of water out and drank deeply, then passed it to Wells.

         "I don't think we can go any further today," said Nathalya.  "I'll probably miss the convoy, but there is nothing for it.  If we move too quickly, you might further your injury.  I'll go get some more water and look for something to eat before it gets dark."

         Wells nodded and Nathalya left her sitting there and walked a short distance to the river.  Kneeling down, she filled another canteen of water and tucked it into her pack.  She searched high and low for something to eat, but only managed a couple handfuls of berries she knew to be safe to eat.

         She brought the water and berries back to Wells and they sat together and ate.  It wasn't much, but the berries were sweet, like an after dinner dessert.  When the sun lowered, the temperature dropped to a chill and it grew difficult to see in the forest around them. Nathalya pulled a flashlight from her pack and stood to look around the immediate area for firewood.

         As she carried enough dry wood and tinder back, something caught her eye.  Quietly, she set the sticks beside Wells and put her finger to her lips, signaling Wells not to speak. Together they watched as a pair of lights danced in the distance, disappearing behind and passing between tree to tree as it weaved through the forest.  As it neared, the sound of a large engine could be heard.

         Nathalya looked around for a place to hide, but saw nothing.  She stood tall and put her hands in the air as the vehicle slid to a stop in front of them, the lights blacking out everything behind them.  A hatch opened and a shadowed figured stepped out.  He pointed a rifle at Nathalya.  She could see the beam of the laser sight on her chest in the dust that had been kicked up around them.

         "Drop any weapons and identify yourself!" shouted the figure.  Nathalya squinted and saw the Alliance symbol painted on the hood of the vehicle.

         "Ghost Agent Nathalya Harms.  I'm with Technical Trinity Wells, she's hurt and needs medical attention. We're unarmed."

         "Stay where you are, I'm coming to you," ordered the shadowed man.  Slowly he walked towards her.  Another figure exited the vehicle.  They stood on both sides of Nathalya and kept their weapons drawn at her.

         "They check out," said a voice over the radios on the men's belts.  "They must have survived the crash."

         The headlights dimmed and the men lowered their weapons.  A third man stepped out of the vehicle and walked up to Nathalya.  He was stern looking and wore a neatly pressed uniform.

         "Take the other one and get her in the back of the truck.  Have the medic check her out," he said, eyes fixed on Nathalya.

         "I am Captain Mordren with Alpha unit, Delta Fleet Ground Command.  Did anyone else survive the crash?"

         "No, sir," replied Nathalya, saluting quickly then retrieved the envelope from her pocket.  "There was a man, a scientist I think, that died shortly after.  He gave me this and told me to deliver it to the lab in Xera."

         "I'll see that it gets there.  Private," he called to a man who quickly walked over. "take this and make sure it gets to the right person."

         The soldier saluted and took the envelope from Nathalya, then walked back and climbed into the vehicle.  Nathalya felt slightly uneasy.

         "It's a wonder that you survived the crash, how did you escape unharmed?" he asked. 

         "We jumped out before it lost all control," she explained and pointed to  the parachute bag that lay on the ground.

         "I see.  Can you tell me how it happened?"

         "No, I heard an explosion and then couldn't see hardly anything."

         "How is it that nobody else got out?"

         "We were in the back, near the cargo doors. The civilians were seated up front."

         "Indeed.  What unit are you assigned to?"

         "We are with Juliette.  Though, we haven't checked in with them yet.  I'm eager to make it to Xera and rendezvous with the convoy heading to Juliette's forward base," said Nathalya.  She was growing weary of the questions and worried she had missed the convoy, a suspicion the Captain confirmed.

         "They left hours ago, they couldn't wait any longer.  Until now, you and your Technical were considered missing in action.  I'll have my men radio headquarters and inform them of the situation.  Join your friend in the back of the truck and we'll make our way back to Xera.  You can rest and get cleaned up and get something to eat once we arrive.  You should be able to get some rest on the way back as well.  You wont have much time to sleep once we get back to Xera."

         

         Nathalya sat in the back with Wells, who's ankle had been wrapped in ice.  There were no roads through the forest and the ride to Xera was slow and bumpy.  Nathalya was tired and could feel her head nodding despite the shaking.  She did not, however, manage to fall asleep for some miles.  Wells on the other hand, who had been given pain medication, was fast asleep and breathing deeply. When sleep finally found Nathalya, it was shallow and dreamless.

          Nathalya  awoke when the truck, after a few hours travel, lurched to a halt and the back doors swung open.  Pale white light flooded the back of the truck.

         "Trinity," she said softly in Wells' ear.  "Trinity, wake up.  We're there."

         Wells stirred and opened her eyes.  A medic entered the back and checked a few beeping monitors.

         "We'll give her some anti-inflammatory medication and spare compression wraps and she'll be good as new in a few days," he reported and left them alone.  Wells sat up and tested her weight on her ankle.  When it didn't give way, she stood up and with Nathalya's help, climbed out of the truck.  Two men climbed in and tossed out Nathalya's bag and a small bag of medical supplies, then shut the doors behind them as truck drove away.

         "Well, that was kind of them to give us a ride," said Wells, feeling somewhat rested, though still quite groggy from the pain medication.  Nathalya looked up and saw El'Anorath's singular moon peeking through the partly cloudy night sky. 

         She could see a few stars out and couldn't help but wonder if one of them wasn't the Constable orbiting safely above, her father staring down at the them wondering if she was okay.

         Presently, a man in a sergeant's uniform ran up to them and saluted Nathalya smartly.  He had short brown hair and sharp blue eyes.

         "You must be Ghost Agent Harms," he said.  "I'm glad you made it.  I heard about the attack, it's terrible.  But here you are; the survivor."

         "You've guessed right.  I am, and this is my Technical, Trinity Wells," said Nathalya, nodding towards Wells. Wells hobbled forward and shook the man's hand, she flipped her hair back and smiled. 

         "And who might you be?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she peered into his.

         "Where are my manners?  I am Sergeant Kale DeVega.  I've come to escort you to Juliette unit's forward base.  I stayed behind after the convoy refused wait for you.  I won't lie, and I've been worried as I waited for you, but it's been nice getting to come back to Xera.  We're so secluded out there that you forget there are so many Alliance members on El'Anorath."

         "How far away is the base?" asked Nathalya.  Wells dropped her gaze as well as his hand.

         "About a half day's drive north, just below the mountains.  I expect you're tired, I'll show you to your lodging. It's nothing special, but at least it's a place to rest peacefully for a few hours before we leave.  Follow me," he said, and walked off to their left.  They followed and soon found themselves in a small housing compound at the west end of Xera. 

         They walked down two blocks before caming to a doorway of a small trailer.  Sergeant DeVega walked forward and unlocked the door with a small brass key.  He raised his arm, inviting his followers to step inside.  Nathalya opened the door and walked inside, followed by Wells.  DeVega stood in the doorway.

         "It isn't much, but there is a shower and a few basic necessities.  Though, I do apologize, but they only had single bed trailers available.  There should be a foldout cot in the closet," he frowned.  Nathalya walked further inside and set her bag on the floor beside the bed.

         "It's no problem.  Wells, you can have the bed and pillows to rest your leg on," said Nathalya.  Wells nodded and looked at DeVega.

         "Thank you for showing us to our room, now if you'll excuse me, I'm way overdue for a hot shower," she said.

         "Very well," said DeVega.  "I'll be back in about three hours to collect you.  Welcome to El'Anorath," he bade them goodnight and then closed the door.

         "He's nice," Wells said, looking at Nathalya.  "Mind if I jump in the shower first?"

         "Go for it," replied Nathalya.

         "I don't have any spare clothes."

         "You can borrow some clothes from my bag. We'll see if we can't find something for you to wear in the morning," offered Nathalya.  Wells thanked her and walked into the shower room, closing the door behind her.

         Nathalya sat on the bed for a while and listened to the water running from Wells' shower.  For a while, she was left alone with her thoughts until Wells came out, wrapped in a brown towel and still drying her hair.

         "All yours," she said.  Nathalya undressed and upon entering the shower, discovered that Wells had not left her any hot water.  Nonetheless, she welcomed the cold water as it fell over her weary limbs.  When she finished, she dried off and then lay down on the couch, not bothering with setting up the cot. In her weariness, she was asleep in no time.


         Three hours later, there came a loud pounding at the door.  Wells sat bolt upright and Nathalya about fell off the couch. 

         "It's time to head off!" hollered DeVega from behind the door.

         "We'll be right out!" shouted Wells. Nathalya packed her bag and pulled some extra clothing out for Wells to wear.  Then, they quickly took turns brushing their teeth and getting dressed.  DeVega stood patiently outside, leaning a shoulder against the wall with his rifle slung across his back.  The door swung open and Wells stumbled through, followed by Nathalya.

         "Good morning!" said DeVega.  Wells groaned at him, but Nathalya wished him a good morning as well.

         "If you two are ready, we can eat a quick breakfast then stop by the armory before we hit the road," offered DeVega.  Nathalya felt her stomach growl and nodded in approval.

         "Lead the way, Sergeant," she said.

         The air was cool and breezy.  Though the night sky still reigned above, Xera, illuminated by large, generator powered lights, was bustling with activity.  Various vehicles sped by the three walkers and troops marched in unison down the lanes. Warehouses and maintenance hangers stood with doors open and workers inside were moving boxes or replacing parts on their war machines or vehicles.  Sounds of power tools echoed across the compound.  At the other end, jet engines whirred and roared as they prepared for their daily missions.  It was all quite impressive and seemed one tirelessly rehearsed waltz of wartime preparation.

         DeVega led them to a large dining facility where they each ate a large breakfast.  The food was, surprisingly, delicious and well made.  They sipped at mugs of dark coffee as they ate and talked.

         "I think you're the first Ghost that has been assigned to Juliette.  I haven't been there long myself, but our commander, you'll meet him later, seemed a little confused when he tried to decide where to put you to some use.  I'm sure he'll ask you what it is that you do, exactly.  He's young and mostly inexperienced, but he does his best for his troops.  He does what any good commander should do -- sit back and sign the papers and let the sergeants direct the fight," DeVega said, then sat his fork down and looked at Nathalya a moment.

         "What DO Ghosts do?" he asked. Nathalya understood why commanders and troops on El'Anorath would be mostly unfamiliar with the concept of Ghosts;  It was a somewhat obsolete position and the Alliance was hesitant to spend the resources to train new ones.  She thought for a moment, then spoke.

         "Well, Agents are trained in a lot of different areas; mostly stealth, tactics, scouting and reconnaissance, and a few other minor things.  But our main focus is on small scale, close combat skirmishes.  Holding the rank of Ghost Agent gives me more authority and I'm more likely to be sent on missions by myself or supplement a scouting group or deep insertion team. I'm not quite sure what to expect now that I am assigned to a unit that engages in large scale combat," Nathalya finished explaining and saw the look on DeVega's face.

         "That sounds close to what I would have expected, but not quite," he said.

         "What were you expecting?" asked Wells. DeVega looked troubled.

         "What is it?" asked Nathalya.

         "The commander asked for my advice on your assignment.  I recommended that he put you in with infantry, there aren't many high value targets running around in the open on the enemy side."

         "And did he?" asked Wells, her expression changed to one of anger and looked on the verge of blowing up if the Sergeant did not choose his next words carefully.  Instead of speaking, the sergeant simply nodded.

         "I suppose I should have expected that," said Nathalya.  "The usefulness of a single Agent is circumstantial, but it does make me wonder if Colonel Ralphael knew that this would happen," she said.  She looked down at her mostly empty plate and thought quietly for a moment.  She wanted to feel upset, but to her surprise, she instead felt indifferent, as though she had been coming to terms with something for a long time.

         

         Wells was fuming and yelled at DeVega as they walked to the armory.  DeVega opened the heavy armory door and Wells stomped inside.  The three made their way and stood at a large counter.

         "What can I do you three for?" asked a tall and heavily built man in a white, sweat-stained tank top behind the counter.

         "I am Sergeant Kale DeVega with Juliette unit, I need two weapon kits for these two new Juliettes."          

         The man behind the counter stood still and said nothing.

         "Right," said DeVega.  "I need one Technical suite and some uniforms, and one Ghost kit."

         "You're a Ghost?" asked the man, looking at Nathalya.  She nodded.

         "Scan in and wait here," said the man, shrugging, seemingly unimpressed despite his initial reaction. Nathalya and Wells stepped up to the scanner and passed their wrists over it, then waited.

         The armorer left for a short while and upon his return carried with him two small crates, one of which was very dusty.  He set them on the counter then typed something into a computer.  He scanned a label on one crate, then scanned Nathalya's wrist.  He repeated the motions for Wells.

         "All yours," he said, then walked to the back of the armory and lit a cigar.

         Wells opened her crate to find a single laptop, charger, two earpieces, and an automatic pistol with two extra magazines, a holster, and several boxes of ammunition.  There were also three pairs of uniforms.  She grabbed a padded cloth pack from the crate and packed everything inside.  She then set the pistol in the holster and strapped it to her waist and leg.  Once finished she slid the pack over her shoulder and waited for Nathalya.

         Nathalya opened the dusty case and found a single rifle with a short range scope attached, two automatic pistols with under-arm holsters, and a wealth of ammunition.  She also found a complete suit of sleek black, lightweight body armor.  She took a moment and slid the individual pieces on, then strapped it all together and fastened a long black cloak around her shoulders. 

         DeVega and Wells admired her as she stood there.

         "Now that looks really comfortable," said DeVega.

         "I'm surprised he had one back there for me. It is actually very comfortable." admitted Nathalya.  She tested her motions and found them unhindered.

         "So, are we ready to leave?" asked Wells.  DeVega checked a clock on the wall.

          "I'll take you to my truck," he said, then walked through the armory doors.  Wells and Nathalya followed him out.

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