Chapter Fifty-Two: Non Nobis Solum
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Tyler Island, Spring Sea.
October 15th, 2019.
0745hrs.
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Naomi found the Princess sitting on the ground, a good distance from the hangars and Strider Squadron's aircraft. She was watching the LRSSG and the refugees as the two groups took the time to care for one another, a few of the Erusean soldiers offering assistance while the pilots helped divvy up more supplies. They all seemed almost happy, the children having regained enough confidence to take to playing games of tag and hide-and-seek between pestering every pilot they could to tell them more about the aircraft.
The Princess seemed to be keeping her distance from them, along with the man that Naomi learned was her bodyguard and a golden retriever that Naomi assumed was her pet. She looked better than she did a few nights before, judging from the fact the elaborate updo her hair had been in had been replaced by a simple ponytail, but she still wore the same tattered and stained dress. The man that had been covered in blood looked better as well. Still pale and exhausted, but he'd been given a change of clothes by someone. He looked casual now, making the Princess the only one that stuck out.
For a few seconds, Naomi kept her distance, hesitating and realizing she was unsure what to say. She'd had time to think and calm down, so now she had to mend the bridge she almost burned. Or maybe completely burned. Looking at it now, a better analogy would be standing on a burning bridge and trusting the Princess enough to accept her help. Or something like that, she wasn't really the greatest at clever comparisons. That's the best she could get from what everyone was telling her at least.
Before she could take the chance to turn and run and further avoid the problem, the Princess' dog took notice of her and the bodyguard did as well. While the dog simply watched her cautiously, the man tensed and moved to put himself between Naomi and the Princess. Both he and Naomi were about to say something, but that was when the Princess noticed what her companions were reacting to. She looked over her shoulder, not making eye contact as soon as she realized who was there. Instead she looked to her bodyguard. "Henri, relax. It's fine."
The man - Henri - backed down when he noticed the look the Princess gave him, stepping back and crossing his arms but giving Naomi a suspicious look. Not sure what else to do, Naomi gave an awkward, grateful smile as the Princess turned away. Her dog lost interest as well, simply watching as Naomi slowly began to approach before he rested his head on the Princess' lap. It wasn't like she could blame them for their reactions to her.
Naomi moved to stand beside the Princess, opposite of where Henri stood. She wasn't sure where to start, so she just stood there for a few minutes. By now she had no choice but to swallow her pride and get it over with, offering a curt greeting. "Your Highness."
"Major." The Princess didn't look up at her. Silence, again, until the Princess went on. She sounded like she was barely keeping herself together. "Is there something I can help you with or do you just intend to stand there?"
"You wanted to talk to me," Naomi said, taking a deep breath. She'd been in her fair share of arguments, but she couldn't think of one that topped this one. It wasn't something she could just slap a band-aid on and call it a day. And at this point, she was lucky if the Princess didn't just storm off. "So let's talk."
"What would you like to talk about?" The Princess asked her, drawing in a shaky breath of her own.
"We want the same thing, right? That's what you said," Naomi said, keeping her eyes on the horizon. She was vaguely aware of Henri watching them closely, but if he had any opinions on this he kept it to himself. She doubted he was even listening to them, which would have been preferable. Enough people stuck their noses into this fight and it should have been between the two of them. It was a problem between Naomi and the Princess, mutual or not. "So how about a plan, then?"
She glanced down at the Princess, who went quiet for several moments. Lowering her head, her voice was just above a whisper as she finally, reluctantly answered. "I don't have one..."
"Then why should I hear you out?" Naomi asked with a sigh, looking away from the Princess again. She kept her voice level, and she didn't feel angry like she had been. Now it was just slight annoyance she had to worry about, if even that. "The way things went, it seemed like you had a pretty damn good reason for me to shut up and listen to you. And now, here we are, and you don't even have a plan. So, why should I listen? Why should I consider risking the lives of my men and these refugees?"
"Because we do want the same thing. You want to save your people, and I want to save mine," the Princess answered, hesitating only briefly. She sniffled, like she was trying to keep from crying, though Naomi guessed that was a result of her own hurt and anger. "Those refugees are our common ground. They're just as much my people as they are yours. And they're innocents in all this that we both want to protect."
"It's not just the refugees I have to worry about, though. Every one of these pilots is under my command," Naomi said, nodding towards the flight line where Cyclops and Mage were coordinating with the Erusean defectors, while the rest of Strider Squadron and Avril went over aircraft, all the while Golem lended a hand with the ground troops in trying to clean up the base some more. Each and every one of them was her responsibility. "Whatever happens, I am not going to put their lives on the line unless I know we stand a chance."
"I have the burden of an entire country on my shoulders. A burden I never asked for, but one that's mine to carry nonetheless," the Princess said, her voice no longer soft as she straightened up, trying to speak at a normal volume. Naomi guessed to sound confident. "I'm not comparing my burdens to yours. Osea depends on you a great deal, not just your soldiers, just like Erusea depends on me. I never wanted to endanger my people with this war any more than you want to endanger yours."
"The difference between the two of us is that you asked for this war. Every time I've encouraged my men was when we were fighting the battles in a war you started," Naomi said. No one in this war was a saint, and she wasn't going to pretend that Osea hadn't picked their fair share of fights. But this particular war was not one they wanted. "Whether you wanted to or not, that's what's happened. Now the rest of us are paying for it."
"I just thought I was doing the right thing...that's what they told me..." the Princess replied, her voice beginning to crack. She sounded on the verge of tears once again, reaching up to wipe her eyes. She sniffled again. "They shoved a script in my hands and cameras in my face before I was even eighteen. My birthday was in June...a few days after Harling died, almost a month after the war started. And I spent my birthday talking about what a great victory that operation had been for Erusea, hundreds of miles from my home and friends. I just sucked it up and told myself everything was Osea's fault."
"Yeah, trust me, none of us wanted this," Naomi said, feeling bad but probably not as much as she should have. She'd been in a worse situation, though that wasn't exactly fair on the Princess. The truth was, they were both treated like nothing by those above them until they became convenient. Or at least that's what it seemed like to Naomi, something that conflicted with her previous image of the Princess.
"I've started to see that, over the past few months. If I'm being honest, I don't know what to believe anymore," the Princess said with a shake of her head. "I don't know if I've been manipulated by everyone all this time or if I truly have allies. But I do know that I don't want anyone else to suffer because of this war."
"But you don't have a plan any more than we do," Naomi said, almost scoffing. She crossed her arms. "You can't just snap your fingers and reverse this shit."
"But we can put an end to it," the Princess said, almost firmly. "If we put our heads together, we can work towards peace."
"None of us are in the greatest position right now." Naomi looked down at her, realizing the Princess had turned to look up at her. Her eyes were wide and if not for how puffy and bloodshot they were she might have looked innocent. There was some kind of mix of desperation and determination on her face that made Naomi hesitate. They weren't that far apart in age, yet to Naomi she almost seemed like a child with how naive she was. "Our countries are at war. I can't promise you there's not going to be more bloodshed."
"The Radicals and their drones are our enemy, and they're not innocent. I've spent months with the leaders of both factions," the Princess said, seeming to slowly gain her confidence back. Whatever she was saying, there wasn't much hesitation in her voice. "The Radicals' general tried constantly to get in my head and under my skin...his desire for this war and those drones is what made me realize we might be wrong about Osea. But he acted as though the only way to peace was through Osea's destruction?"
Naomi raised a brow at the mention of the drones. That was most of the problem. It seemed everyone involved with the drones was bad news, and what Labarthe had said only confirmed that. She wanted those drones dead, she wanted the Arsenal Bird gone, and she wanted both the Radical General and General Shilage to pay. Whatever it took. But the tangent the Princess was starting down gave her a sinking feeling. "What's your point?"
"My point is that there are two things that are at the root to this chaos. The space elevator and those drones. We both want to deal with those things and we both want to save our people," the Princess got to her feet, her dog huffing and getting to his feet as soon as her movement disturbed him. She clenched and unclenched her fists, seeming to steel herself. "I know how their leader's mind works, and I know about the drones. And surely I still have some influence...so please. Let me help you end this war. I'll do anything. I just want to make things right somehow."
The two went quiet while Naomi considered things. She didn't have a plan, but she was willing to help them strategize in whatever way she could. Maybe it wasn't just her guilt and duty driving her, it seemed there was self-pity there as well, but looking at her...Naomi had a hard time trying to put her face to the bloodthirsty, warmongering image she had built up in her head. She'd caused so much damage even if she didn't mean to and even if she wasn't a soldier, but Naomi didn't have the right to criticize that. She'd played her part in this war, no matter how much she didn't want it. They all did.
They could keep arguing back and forth, but it wouldn't get them anywhere. It wasn't going to help them get home, it wasn't going to end the war, and it wasn't going to help the refugees. Naomi wasn't sure if she was convinced yet, especially not with everything that had happened. Especially during their operation a few days ago. "What about the refugees?"
"I'm not saying the Conservatives won't be punished greatly for their actions. But...I don't think they want war with Osea. If there's anyone they'd leave be, I imagine it would be you," the Princess replied, almost immediately picking up on the direction Naomi was headed with that question. At least for the most part. The girl looked away from Naomi again as she went on. "I swear I'll do anything to keep the refugees from further harm. I'll put myself between them and the Conservatives if it comes to that, and after the war I'll make sure they get justice. They're not to blame for this war."
"And the Radicals? They're Eruseans, too," Naomi said, recalling the fact that she mentioned they were their enemy. Them and those drones. But there were still people behind the whole thing. "Like I said, I can't promise that there won't be more bloodshed."
"But we can keep there from being more innocent bloodshed," the Princess insisted, meeting Naomi's gaze again. She seemed sincere judging from the way she looked at her. "I promise you, most of the Radicals' forces are drones. And those that aren't...I don't know what to think or feel about that. If they choose to keep fighting, if it comes down to it, I understand I may not be able to save them."
Naomi gave her a blank expression, unsure if she could really judge her leadership based on this. After this war, Naomi wouldn't blame her for throwing them to the wolves, but still. "You're fine with us killing them if we have to?"
"No, I'm not." For a moment, Naomi was expecting some holier-than-thou speech, but to her surprise once the Princess had collected herself she didn't climb up on her high horse. Instead, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself and lowered her voice, but sounded certain of her words. "But I'm willing to trust your judgment. I'm not a soldier and even the other day...I have no idea what it's like to make decisions on a battlefield. Or to trust in others and have to make calls to save your comrades' lives. So I understand if I can't stop you...I understand if I have to let them go for the sake of the others. My duty shouldn't interfere with yours."
"You're willing to pay that price later on?" Naomi asked her. Why she was asking was more or less her attempt at figuring out what kind of a person she was dealing with. For someone so adamant about ending the war swiftly and bringing about peace, for someone that had been eager to point out that Naomi had blood on her hands, she was very willing to sacrifice her own people. It probably wasn't an easy call to make, and maybe Naomi wouldn't do anything different in her position, but it was still a questionable decision.
"I don't want them dead. But if they're trying to kill those of us trying to end the war...look, if it can be prevented I want them alive. But I can't force you to show them mercy," the Princess said. Her eyes started to water again and her lip began to quiver. If she was only acting, then it was a pretty convincing one. "I'm willing to let you do your jobs. All I ask is that we cooperate, to make sure whatever happens is in everyone's best interest. I don't know about war, but I know about people. We can find solutions, I know we can."
"Yeah, well I've learned a lot about war and people," Naomi said, almost huffing. She wasn't sure why she was bothering with this anymore. She sighed. "There's no way everyone is winning in this war. If you help us take out the drones and whatever resistance we meet from the Radicals, even if it's to protect the innocent, you're going to look like a traitor to them."
"That's my problem. And they should have considered that before they went down this path," the Princess said, collecting herself once again. She took a few breaths, either to calm herself or to brace herself before she went on. "I can't sit by and leave you all to fend for yourselves when I know I can somehow help. I've spent long enough in the background."
Naomi took a moment to consider everything, looking behind the Princess, towards the hangars once again. She wanted to think she could keep protecting them all on her own, but they needed all the help they could get. The Erusean Conservatives weren't reliable allies, willing to try bombing an entire island of civilians just to wipe out the Radical forces and their perceived enemy. They still fought Osea when it was convenient. Whether they liked it or not, the Princess still had some influence. To those that opposed killing civilians, she could still influence them. That would solve one of their problems if they intended to recapture the space elevator.
The Princess seemed genuine in her desire to help, and Naomi knew if she didn't make some kind of decision it would be made for her. And whatever decision she made had to be made without bias. She may not like the idea, but she couldn't deny it would work out in their favor. The one thing everyone wanted was for this war to be over so that they could go home. If the Princess was willing to help them, then they could just get it over with, return to Osea, and not have to worry about whatever happened with the politics of the whole thing. That was the ideal outcome, though it probably wouldn't be that simple.
If anything were to go wrong and the Princess were to somehow sabotage them, if any of her men suffered because of any poor actions or decisions, Naomi could easily solve the problem. That was her paranoia and distrust in the Princess and her authority talking, mainly, but the feeling was still real. She had meant what she had said when she spoke to Clemens a month or so ago. If anyone hurt them, they would answer to her. But as real as that feeling was, the immediate guilt that followed it was also real as she considered how far she was willing to fall. She didn't used to be that bitter.
Now wasn't the time to worry about worst-case scenarios. She had to be willing to trust the Princess if this was going to work. Everything that she had done so far was enough to prove she wasn't lying, and if Naomi couldn't fully trust the Princess she could at least trust those closest to her telling her to ease up. She took a deep breath. "What makes you trust me? Or any of us not to just use you like your own people did?"
"Because...I heard how you spoke to Miss Avril. And Bandog. And how they and your soldiers talk about you," the Princess admitted, giving her a half-hearted smile. She almost seemed embarrassed. "Maybe it's stupid but...they admire you. They trust you. And then, although your anger was directed at me, to see you stand up for the refugees and get angry for what happened to them. There's a saying I read ages ago, written in an old language. 'Non Nobis Solum'?"
"I've heard it before, once or twice," Naomi said. It was a popular motto for a few older military units as well as a few schools, but she'd never given it a second thought.
"The full phrase it's from means 'not for us alone are we born'. And I've always found it a bit poetic, but to be fair I'm an overly romantic person at times," the Princess said, going on with an almost nervous laugh. She swallowed. "Anyways, the point of it, I think, is that everyone is made to serve others in some way or another. Your family, friends...even your country. They cherish their loved ones and they have to protect what's dear to them. I've always fancied myself as that kind of person, but after this war...public service isn't kind to people like me. But you're that kind of person. Someone that lives for others."
"You barely know me." Naomi almost wanted to scoff. If she was taking the flattery route, it wasn't working. Naomi didn't really bother thinking about herself as any kind of person, let alone some kind of hero. She did what she needed in order to keep those she cared about safe. It was her job. "You make me sound like some kind of saint."
"I know you're not. I'm not one either...but I know you're kind, and warm, and caring," the Princess went on, sounding almost a bit hesitant. When Naomi looked at her, almost suspicious, she explained, "One of your pilots, Tailor, told me about your past battles. It was odd to hear from a different perspective, but also enlightening. Someone who didn't care about anything but their job wouldn't go to the lengths you have to take care of all of them. I trust you because I want to lead like you do."
"I don't think you can compare leading a country to leading a squadron," Naomi said, taking a deep breath. Though her responsibility was sudden, she didn't exactly hate it. She wouldn't do anything differently if she had the choice, except maybe save Wiseman. She could have used his wisdom right about now. "We have different burdens to carry."
"That's true," the Princess agreed, chuckling slightly. Her smile didn't fade. "But maybe we don't have to carry them on our own?"
Naomi hesitated. She didn't know what to do or say, and she didn't have someone handing her solutions and magically solving their problems for them. No one was there to say whether her decision was going to get them all killed or not. Beckett, Tabloid, Avril, and even Count on some level seemed willing to trust the Princess. If you can't trust her, you can trust them. She let go of the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Yeah. Maybe so," she agreed with the Princess' comment. Then before she could think otherwise, she held out her hand. "Alright, Princess. I'm willing to at least give this a try."
The Princess' mood seemed to change, and for a minute she looked like a child with the way she smiled. Although the handshake and movements were all done with the elegance of a monarch, she sounded almost as childish as she seemed. Like a mask she'd been wearing slipped. "Does this mean we're friends now?"
"It means we're allies," Naomi told her, able to return the smile even if it wasn't as enthusiastic. 'Allies' was the best she could offer her. And she hoped that was enough. But judging from the way the Princess nodded, maintaining her smile, it would be enough. Naomi hoped she wasn't making the wrong decision, but she actually almost felt good about it as the two of them made what amends they were able to.
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Selatapura, Usea.
1550hrs.
Ionela paced the halls of the facility, something that had become almost a ritual to her in the two weeks they'd been here. She was too anxious to sleep and she didn't even have the motivation to eat like she should have, having only one outlet for her frustrations and that was walking. By now, she knew this place like the back of her hand. It had been strange and intimidating at first, but now it just felt like a regular building. Or it might have if not for the ongoing drone production within it, a spectacle that was on display in several hallways.
It was late afternoon when one of her walks brought her back to the hallway she started at, where temporary crew quarters were set up not far from most workspaces. She wasn't ready to return and face her sisters or the young researchers she had almost considered friends, giving a frustrated huff as she stopped by one of the windows in the hall. The machine kept working on the small drones used by the Arsenal Bird, unable to do anything but what it was made and ordered to do. It only served as a reminder of the events earlier that morning, when they'd been driven out to the outskirts of the city.
The new drones had been completed, and Dr. Schroeder had been able to upload the flight data from her grandfather's sorties to them. General Parrish went all out boasting about them, sounding like nothing short of a madman as he informed them of what this meant for the world. What he really meant was what it meant to Erusea, but as Ionela was discovering most Eruseans seemed to think they were the center of the universe, so it wasn't all that surprising. They picked war after war because they thought they owned the whole Usean continent, now forcing their own people to fight each other over machines.
Ionela had wanted to scream and cry and shout any number of expletives, but when she was much younger she was taught that sort of behavior was unladylike and not fitting of someone of her family's status. Not that their status meant much to anyone anymore, if it ever did. She was born to a family from a nation that did not exist anymore, and that was part of the reason she found this entire thing so...stupid. If anyone should be fighting to avenge their nation, it would be any of the countries bullied by Erusea over the years, and yet none of them cared until now. She certainly didn't care about whether her homeland was independent or not.
The space elevator had been made for the good of those countries. But Erusea couldn't stand not being in control. They couldn't stand a perceived threat that made them look bad. So their solution was to fight and kill their way to the top. To create mindless, unfeeling robots to fight their wars because they had disdain for their fellow human beings. If General Parrish had his way, this war wouldn't end until everyone that ever opposed Erusea was gone. Their perfect soldier was really just the perfect monster.
What was anyone fighting for anymore? What was the point in the suffering her grandfather endured, when the goal was always to strip him of his wings when he was no longer of use and take down his rival right along with him? Ionela knew he couldn't have cared less about perfecting these drones. All he wanted was to fly, and whatever path he took to that would send him to his grave. She should have accepted that long ago if she knew all this time, and instead she found herself struggling to accept anything going on.
Ionela lost her train of thought as she heard the echo of one of the doors opening, jumping at the sudden sound. She glanced in the direction she guessed it came from and caught sight of Massa, returning from her work with Dr. Schroeder and Simon it seemed. Not in the mood to talk to anyone, and certainly not anyone involved with this project, Ionela looked back at the drones and prayed that Massa didn't notice her. Her prayers went unanswered - something she probably should have been used to at that point - as Massa's footsteps stopped and then resumed at a slower pace as she likely noticed Ionela. Only instead of heading into one of the other rooms, Massa kept walking, stopping only when she reached the same place Ionela stood.
For a few moments, she seemed not to have any greeting in mind, then she took a deep breath and broke the silence. "Hey," Massa said softly through a small smile, sounding almost hesitant. "I haven't seen you since we got back to the facility this morning. Is everything okay?"
Ionela dug her nails into her arm, glancing over at Massa's faint reflection in the glass and then back at the drones. She was used to handling her problems on her own, not wanting to burden her family or worry her sister, so it wouldn't have taken much for a lie to go unnoticed. But this was one of the few people she could be completely honest with. And maybe it might do some good. "No. You know very well that everything is not okay."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Massa asked her, talking slowly and quietly.
"I would. But can I count on you to listen?" Ionela replied, not looking over to see her reaction.
Massa didn't answer right away, not that it was a question that needed thinking about, so Ionela kept quiet until she said something. Then, Massa reached out to try and gently place a hand on her shoulder, starting to say something as she did, but Ionela harshly shrugged her hand off and glared once again at Massa's reflection from where she stood behind her. It seemed that the motion was enough for Massa to feel hurt, judging from how quickly her concern changed to hurt. "Is this about your grandfather?"
"That's part of it."
"And the other part?" Massa asked, but it was likely she already knew the answer to her question from the way she asked. Like she was only offering to lend an ear out of basic courtesy, not because it was a matter she wanted to help with.
Ionela hesitated. She wanted to be anywhere in the world but there at that moment. Not just away from the conversation, but from the entire facility and the war. There was peace somewhere out there, but if these Radicals had their way all of that would change. But she found it hard to forget about the people she used to call friends. The Princess of Erusea and Massa both had a hand in this, and as angry as she felt with them she worried about them. That was part of her problem. The whole war was part of her problem. The fact she couldn't do anything was a part of the problem. But it accomplished nothing if she expressed that.
She decided to answer Massa's question with her own. Never once taking her eyes off the machines on the other side of the window, she asked, "Why do you do this?"
"You mean...why do I work on the drone project with Dr. Schroeder?" Massa asked for clarification and Ionela nodded. It seemed to take her aback, as she took a few moments to consider her words before she finally answered. "Part of it is that I think there's some good that could come from this. Once we perfect the technology, if war was necessary, the differences could be settled without bloodshed."
"You don't really believe that, do you?" Ionela couldn't help but scoff. She finally rounded on Massa, who stood there surprised and seemingly at a loss for words. Although she wasn't going to back down, she kept her voice level. "And what about the blood that will be shed to force the world into compliance? What about someone as selfish as Parrish refusing to share that technology? What about the lives that were lost to perfect it in the first place? The only ones that won't suffer are those deemed important by whoever is behind this whole thing."
"But once the world sees the good that can come from drones and AI, there won't be any need for force. That's the point," Massa said, her voice soft. She wasn't looking for a fight, but to Ionela it just sounded like she was parroting what had been told to her. Just like the Princess. "Our world has been in an almost never-ending cycle of chaos and war. So much has been lost, but we can change all of that. Sacrifices made now will build a better future."
"When is enough going to be enough? If you cared about peace you wouldn't be making weapons of war," Ionela said, feeling more grief than she did anger. She clenched her fists, though she knew she wouldn't bring herself to hit someone, let alone Massa. Frankly, she knew she had a point; she just didn't know how to make it. "This project has bred nothing but more chaos and destruction! Taking advantage of people's lives just because you think they're disposable, then throwing them aside like they never mattered once they're no longer of use to you...that's not a sacrifice, it's just cruel..."
"Ionela, your grandfather volunteered. He knew we could make a difference," Massa said, trying for a small and reassuring smile in spite of the sudden tension. "He wanted to help us -"
Ionela cut her off before she could continue, only now snapping in spite of her best efforts to keep herself together. "How do you know what he wanted?! None of you knew him. None of you cared to," she said, feeling her eyes starting to sting. She wouldn't let herself cry in public like this, no matter how upset she was. "He won't be the last victim of this. What if there's a better pilot out there?"
"The drones can learn and adapt. He's all we'll need..." Massa said, lowering her voice slightly. Almost as if she couldn't bring herself to fight about this, or as though she felt guilty about the whole ordeal.
"Is he, though? How many human lives truly come at the cost of the perfect machine?" Ionela crossed her arms, glaring at Massa, never once taking her eyes off of her. Her former friend avoided looking her in the eyes. "The sky doesn't belong to any machine and it never will. And there are people just like my grandfather that will fight this. Every ounce of their blood will be on your hands. But at least you made a difference, right?"
Massa looked up at her, starting to take a step towards her. "Ionela -"
"Have a pleasant afternoon." Ionela immediately brushed past her, turning in the opposite direction of the hall. She left Massa standing there as she headed down the hall, towards the door that would lead her to the lobby of the facility and eventually outside, refusing to look back or spend another second looking at the drones being produced. The only thing she wanted was some fresh air, hoping that would somehow clear her mind and calm her down.
She kept walking until her feet hurt, ignoring the few soldiers that gave her a suspicious look as she stepped outside, making her way through the buildings and walking until she couldn't walk anymore. Somehow she wound up at the edge of the small peninsula the support facility was located on, a good ways away from the other buildings that had also been taken over by the soldiers. It was quiet, away from the idle chatter and sounds of vehicles, leaving her alone once again with her thoughts and the sound of the ocean.
In the distance, as the sun began to dip towards the horizon, she could see the space elevator. There were better places in the city to view it, but she wasn't interested in sightseeing. Ionela wondered, not for the first time, what this war looked like to the rest of the world. Erusea refused to help them following the disaster before she was born, and then all these years later actively sabotaged an attempt by Osea to help the people they threw aside. The LIghthouse was a symbol of peace and hope, and now it was what most would see as the source of this war. The real source was hatred, but people like Parrish seemed to think it was justified.
Unfortunately, none of this was in her control. She wasn't a soldier or a politician like the people in her lives, and she definitely wasn't a researcher. As much as she hated this, she knew she'd have to accept sooner or later she was powerless against this war. Parrish and Schroeder would succeed, the drones would take over the skies and evolve alongside warfare, and the whole world would just watch on in horror. Ionela wondered what she could do, never having liked worrying about a problem she couldn't fix.
Ionela couldn't help but wonder if there was something she could do, however small. There was no way to stop the 'Ravens' Parrish was so proud of, but as far as she knew Schroeder's work wasn't done. If his work was done, they wouldn't still be here. She couldn't run into things without some kind of a plan, and if there was one thing she was good at it was discretion. Somehow, she had to at least try to stop this.
The skies didn't belong to them.
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Tyler Island, Spring Sea.
October 18th, 2019.
0840hrs.
Three days had gone by since Naomi agreed to work with the Princess, and it had been just eight days since the operation on Tyler Island. While she thought the biggest of her worries was going to be keeping the peace, it turned out they had to face their first real problem sooner rather than later. Although still not what could be considered friends, Naomi found it a lot easier to work with her than she'd expected. A shaky alliance, but one she tolerated mostly for the sake of her men and the refugees.
Things weren't looking good for them. The refugees had been an unexpected turn of events during the operation, and everyone knew sooner or later it was going to be hard to sustain anyone. Forget any kind of long term campout on the island. The LRSSG's store of food, medicine, and so on combined with what the personnel at Gardos Air Base had been able to spare could only go so far. Already they were having to cut back rations significantly for everyone, and even then they still only had maybe a week or so worth of supplies.
Naomi paced the length of the office Beckett had set up in, feeling like a caged animal. She had a killer headache come on as soon as Beckett had pulled her aside that morning, letting her know they needed to sit down with the Princess and go over all of this. Just to be sure they had an accurate inventory, Genette and her father were both helping go over everything, that way they knew if they actually needed to act sooner rather than later. Right now they were waiting for their return, as well as for the Princess to finally show up.
Beckett and Long Caster watched her as she paced, having only made a few attempts to get her to settle down, but once Count made them realize it was the only thing keeping her from completely losing it over the stress and restlessness they gave up. Well, the pacing as well as his presence. Naomi knew he had no business being at this meeting, but as soon as he noticed something was up he asked if she needed him to come along. And without thinking about it for more than a second she told him she did. Ever since she'd yelled at him after fighting with the Princess, and seen how badly she'd scared and hurt him, she never wanted him to see her get like that again. Well, she didn't want anyone to see her get that bad again, but especially not him. So his moral support was almost a necessity.
"This is taking forever." Count's voice broke the silence between the four of them, and Naomi only glanced at the others for their reaction. He grunted, sitting up from his reclining position in the stiff office chair he sat in. "If there's not that much to go around it oughta be easy to take inventory, right?"
"It's not just food they're taking into account. It's everything. Food, weaponry, fuel, medical supplies...it's bound to take a minute," Long Caster replied with a sigh. He looked bad. Although their rations weren't too strict yet, he'd cut his own back to maybe one meal a day, if even that. As a result, he was nothing like the Long Caster they were used to. Naomi was worried about him, but there wasn't anything that could be done about it. He went on. "But even at a glance, obviously things aren't looking too good."
"Even I know we've been running low on actual produce. Before too long we'll be handing out MREs," Beckett said, but he didn't sound like he wanted to admit it. He leaned back in his own chair, another of their numbers who didn't look the greatest. He'd pushed himself too far during the operation, which all things considered he never should have been on, and most movements or even the lightest bump to his leg caused his face to contort in pain. He wore it well, though, keeping himself together for their sakes. Even trying to sound optimistic. "But who knows? Maybe we made a mistake. No point worrying about it yet."
"Bit hard to buy that considering what we're all sitting here for," Count pointed out, crossing his arms.
"It's called a contingency," Beckett replied, but they all knew it was probably a lot more than that at this point. "Whether it's an urgent problem or not, we all know we're going to be facing it sooner or later if things carry on like this."
"Well, whatever we're calling this, it'd be nice if we could hurry up and get it over with," Naomi said, trying to keep her voice level but she couldn't help but feel slightly agitated and it showed. She wanted to fix this. She had to fix this. And the sooner they all agreed about how to go about it the better. She already had an idea of what she wanted to do, but the Princess could have a better one. Though Naomi was doubtful. "I'm more curious about whatever's taking Her Highness so long."
"Could be she's still trying to get her bearings," Count suggested with a shrug, leaning back in his seat once more. He rested his neck on the backrest, tilting his head back so he could see her, watching her upside down. It didn't look comfortable, but Naomi found it kind of...cute, despite the conversation topic. "Put ordinary people on a military base and you're lucky if they can even find the bathroom."
"She's not exactly an 'ordinary person', y'know," Naomi countered, not like it was much of an argument. Or that he was exactly wrong.
They'd finally managed to clean up the barracks enough, somehow finding them more or less in one piece. After that, they tried to find the best way to get everyone a room, the refugees included. Although everything was better once they had a proper roof over their heads, it meant the last couple of days had been constant moving and rearranging along with the soldiers having to give directions around a base they were barely familiar with. But it meant they weren't living in the hangar anymore, so everyone was willing to put up with that. Instead, the Osean army set up a corner there to serve as a temporary infirmary since the building on the base that housed the real one had been trashed.
"Even so, it's not like she's used to navigating this place," Beckett said, though even he looked a little uncertain. "Besides, she's been trying to find more ways to make herself useful, so she's probably busy just like the rest of us."
"Yeah, well, she wanted to be a part of all of our planning. It's hard to work together if she never shows up," Naomi said, suppressing a sigh. She didn't stop her pacing, her frustrations still not dissipating. Not that this was doing much good, but she could either sit still and be frustrated or distract herself somehow.
"I'm sure she'll show up eventually," Beckett said. None of them said anything else on the topic, regardless of how they felt about it, and they settled into silence once again. A few minutes went by, Naomi wasn't sure exactly how long it was, and eventually a quiet knock sounded from the doorway and everyone's attention turned to the door. Naomi stopped her pacing, but Beckett was the first to offer a greeting as soon as he realized who it was, getting to his feet. "Your Highness. We were just wondering about you."
The Princess stood in the doorway with an almost nervous look on her face. Had Naomi not known better, she never would have guessed the girl standing there was the closest thing to Erusea's leader they had right now. Not with how timid she looked, along with the fact she was dressed down compared to when they first met. After some scrounging through personal effects, they'd managed to find some casual clothes for her to wear so she wasn't walking around in a torn, filthy dress. The other refugees got the same treatment, replacing clothes that couldn't simply be washed with whatever civilian clothes the soldiers had packed before their deployment. In the case of the Princess, she'd borrowed a simple gray t-shirt and spare set of boots from one of the female soldiers under Major Grimm's command and then a pair of jeans Naomi offered up. At least they were getting put to use.
"Please, you don't have to be so formal. Just...call me Cossette if you'd like," the Princess said, hesitantly stepping through the door. She glanced over her shoulder before she did, and Naomi was expecting to see her bodyguard, but realized that Henri was strangely absent. The Princess quickly explained that for them, along with the reason she was so late. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, I was trying to lend a hand in the infirmary. Henri's been doing well, but he's overworking himself and his infection came back...well, I don't think it ever went away. He wouldn't listen until he could barely stand."
"I understand. Health and loved ones should come first," Beckett said, motioning for one of the chairs. "Feel free to take a seat. We're waiting for two of our guys to come back."
"Oh, uh...Major Foulke's father and that man with the camera, right?" the Princess asked. She'd become somewhat familiar with their personnel, but all of them were a far cry from being friends. When Beckett nodded, she almost looked proud of herself. "I ran into them on my way over. They wanted me to tell you they'll be over shortly, they just needed to speak with the maintenance crews, I believe?"
"Perfect. That gives us time to go over some things," Long Caster said, getting to his feet. The laptop on Beckett's desk was the one they connected for the mission briefings, brought over as a visual aid more than anything, as though the many paper maps on the walls weren't enough. He opened it up, logged in, and pulled up the map just as he would during the briefings, only this time it remained on the tiny screen they'd all have to huddle around. "We could use your familiarity Erusea and your military right about now."
Naomi noticed the look on the Princess' face. She seemed uncertain, maybe even confused, as she stared at the computer from where she stood. It was a longshot that she had any deep insight into the military, but she wasn't any good to them if she knew next to nothing. Naomi didn't want an answer she didn't like, but she had to ask. "You do know about that kind of stuff, right?"
"Um...sort of? It's been a while since I was able to sit in on any strategy meetings, so I..." she trailed off as she noticed all four of them start to look almost defeated, and quickly tried to recover. She regained her confidence and went on. "I'm sure I can remember, though, if I can get a good look at the map! It might not be much, but it's still something, right?"
They all stayed quiet for a while, no one sure what to say. Beckett was eventually the one to speak up, hesitant but also hopeful at the same time. "Alright...how about we make this easier on all of us. I'll get right to the point," he said, clearing his throat. "Would you happen to know what forces are at which bases?"
"Maybe...I can't guarantee anything. Why?" the Princess asked, furrowing her brow in suspicion. She looked over all of them for an answer, but once more no one knew exactly what to say to her. Especially since they'd have to find a delicate way to break the news to her. Naomi was sure that would go over well. But it seemed the girl already had some idea, as she gave a slow nod and clasped her hands in front of her, looking down. "Is this about your supplies?"
"How did you..." Naomi started to say, the first one to find her voice it seemed.
"Well, most of your military has been concerned about it. And I've heard a few of them talking here and there," the Princess said slowly, lifting her head. She seemed worried, but it was obvious from the soft smile she put on that she was trying to hide it. "Then I was told to come here for a meeting. It could have only been one of two things. Either there's a mission you want to speak to me about or you need some kind of solution for a different problem, right?"
"More likely, it will have to be both," Long Caster said, and he seemed reluctant to admit it. "Depending on how things are looking...we could try to find another Osean base, but there aren't many we could get to without needing to refuel. And the ones we can probably won't have much left for us."
"The communications have been partially restored, right?" the Princess asked. "What about relief from Osea?"
"We don't know. We have people working on that now, for over a week, but so far we're on our own out here," Beckett explained to her. No one wanted to admit it, but Naomi was starting to think any relief from Osea wasn't going to happen. "And depending on how things are looking, they might not be able to get out here in time. So, we have to be prepared to do something that none of us are going to like very much if we intend to stand our ground. In order to do that, we have to know what we're working with."
"In other words, who we stand the best chance against if we decide to rob them," Count said, offering up an oversimplification. Beckett gave an almost frustrated sigh as the Princess looked them over, her expression hardening slightly, but he didn't keep Count from continuing. "It's not just food, either, it's a matter of ammunition and such. You get the idea."
"I do. I can't say I completely endorse the idea, but, I understand..." the Princess said, taking a few deep breaths. The whole room practically breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't immediately shoot down the idea, and maybe if the circumstances were different she might have done just that. But given the situation they were in, she upheld her promise to set aside her own qualms and carefully made her way over to the computer. She looked the screen over a few times before she spoke again. "You have most of our bases already marked out, but some of them won't be any good to you. And a few are missing. May I?"
"Please, be my guest." Long Caster stepped away, turning the computer towards her for good measure, allowing her to access the keyboard.
The Princess did her best to figure out the controls, clearly not used to working with the laptop, let alone with the technology they were using. After some brief trial and error she seemed to get the hang of it, pinpointing a few locations on the map though she couldn't work much of the magic Long Caster could. They all watched her work, muttering to herself under her breath as she did, before she stepped back. "Okay...as far as I know, you weren't missing any. I only had to add a few, and only the ones I know for certain are still active. Oh, all except -"
She cut herself off, immediately realizing she hadn't meant to say that, but she couldn't reverse what had been said. Naomi narrowed her eyes, noticing the Princess look her way almost with a conflicted look on her face. Sternly but trying not to sound too forceful, Naomi prompted her to continue. "All except what?"
If there was anything she could have said to save herself, it looked to Naomi like she gave up rather quickly. The Princess looked around at all of them, each of them watching her, and she gave in without much of a fight. "Shilage. Specifically the castle. If my memory serves me, the Erusean military has been stockpiling supplies there for...quite a while, now."
"So why hold back like you did?" Naomi asked, feeling her anger starting to rise up. Not at the Princess, though she didn't try very hard to disguise her annoyance. "In case you haven't noticed, we don't have many options here."
"I didn't think it was a big deal. There are several other bases that could be candidates. They all have to have supplies for their people and the aircraft, just like any other base," the Princess said, pushing down the obvious anxiety that was building up. She remained cool, only slightly flustered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she pointed out some of the other bases. "They're not quite as big, given the few forces stationed there, but I'm sure they're viable options. Besides, Shilage isn't exactly a military base...our military's presence there was really more of..."
"An occupation?" Count offered up helpfully as she drifted off, raising a brow. The Princess didn't answer him and he scoffed. "Right. Guess that's par for the course."
"It was more of a...support outpost?" The Princess said, trying to save face for her country even though she didn't sound confident in her correction. "Look, I only know what I overheard from my father and the other heads of our military. I'm not saying I'm exactly proud of the fact our soldiers hide behind civilians, but none of the people in Shilage protested us being there. Some of them even serve. It was simply an out of the way place to keep rations and weaponry."
"It's kinda hard to protest something when your new neighbors come rolling in on tanks," Naomi pointed out. Shilage may be a state in Erusea but its people still had rights, even if she wanted nothing more than to see their former heir dead. Her quarrel was with General Shilage, not with the people. "In any case...I think we should at least look into the place. If Erusea has been squirreling things away all this time it's at least a good option."
"We might have some intel on that, actually. But..." Long Caster had turned the laptop towards him and was about to type something in, but then he stopped. First he looked up at Beckett, and then he turned to face Naomi and Count with a concerned look on his face. Whatever he was going to say didn't want to come out, though.
"What?" Naomi looked at him, then around at Beckett and Count to find the three of them were all looking at her with concern and pity written all over their faces. She knew exactly what they were all worried about, though, even if she didn't want to admit it. But what was the most confusing and maybe even frustrating was the fact Count was worried about it. She gave a huff, almost a scoff, locking eyes with Beckett. "C'mon, don't tell me none of you want to settle the score with that bastard. After everything he did?"
"Easy. We all want to get even, Trig," Count said, sounding like he was barely holding back his own frustration. Naomi felt his fingers brush her hand, about to intertwine his index finger with hers, but the touch almost startled her. Then both of them pulled away and stared at each other with matching grief and anger. He looked like he was close to shaking, but not from fear. He took a deep breath. "Believe me, his payback is overdue. But none of us oughta be running into this thing half-cocked, right?"
"That's never stopped us before," Naomi said, but she didn't have the energy to argue about this. Especially because she already knew he was right. It may have seemed like she was eager, and she did want to hunt Mr. X down more than anything, but the truth was they weren't prepared to just jump the second they had a solution. She knew that. Just like she wasn't going to endanger them unless she had to. Glancing at the Princess and catching how confused and worried the girl looked, she sighed. "I'm not running half-cocked into anything, alright? Relax. And quit worrying about me. I only said it because things could get desperate and I think it's worth it. We can check what intel we have on the other bases, okay?"
"You're right about one thing, though, Major. The supplies in that castle could feed the refugees and then some. And all this time the military's been hoarding stuff there...if we have to...it could be worth it," the Princess said, reluctant to admit it but at least grown up to confront it anyways. She took a deep breath. "But consider, there could be collateral damage. We want to stop that, right? It might not be worth it to cause harm to more civilians. I'd really rather we not risk that unless absolutely necessary."
"Hey, I'm not thrilled about the idea. We'll figure out something else if we must," Naomi replied, shrugging it off. Why did things have to be so complicated? She just wanted to go home, but she couldn't do that without a fight. It wasn't in her to turn tail and run, especially not when they were this close. "But whatever we decide, we need a strategy. Sooner or later Mr. X is gonna turn up again, whether we go find him or not. I wanna be ready no matter what happens."
"'Mr. X'? You mean...General Shilage, right?" the Princess asked out of nowhere, and all eyes were on her once again. She seemed confused, maybe worried, but not to the point that she hesitated. When Naomi nodded, she continued. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you faced him again. Over Farbanti, I'm guessing? And he survived?"
"Yeah. The satellites went down in the middle of our fight," Naomi replied, unable to help but feeling a little upset at the reminder that she'd failed. She took a deep breath to keep herself calm. "So he got away."
"Right. Sorry to hear that," the Princess said, but she didn't sound all that sorry about it. Not mocking them but definitely not sorry, if Naomi was reading the situation right. It wasn't surprising if she had a bias towards Erusea's top ace, but Naomi couldn't help but wonder if there was some other reason the Princess wasn't fond of heading to Shilage. But if there was she kept it to herself. "You might very well be his only equal, so I'm sure whatever happens you'll be ready to fight him again."
"Yeah. I guess so," Naomi said, narrowing her eyes on the Princess.
There was an awkward silence that fell over the group, and before Naomi could question the Princess on why she didn't sound too certain about what she'd said, there was a knock at the still open door. They all looked up to find Genette and Naomi's father standing in the doorway and from the looks on their faces they didn't come bearing good news. Obviously they were done taking inventory, and although Naomi had her doubts from the start seeing them standing there just confirmed that things weren't going to work out in their favor. They could only be so lucky, after all.
Beckett straightened up as soon as they arrived, clearly made uncomfortable by how tense their discussion had been. Everyone turned to the door as the Colonel broke the silence. "About time the two of you got done. How are things looking?"
"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we aren't looking too good," Naomi's father said as he stepped through the door. He wasn't very old all things considered and he never looked his age before, but after everything they'd all gone through he looked thoroughly beaten down and exhausted. The bags under his eyes only made him look worse, but he went about the conversation like nothing was wrong. "Munitions and fuel are probably the worst off. I don't think we could handle more than maybe one or two large scale ops, just based on the number. Small ones, yeah, but definitely not anything that could bring an end to this mess."
"Food and medical supplies fall right behind that. Math isn't exactly my greatest strength, but I'm certain now that we only have enough food for another week, maybe two? Including water in that, too," Genette said, speaking quickly but softly. His camera hung from his neck, probably unused after all the help he'd offered for the military. He wasn't a soldier, and they hadn't wanted him to lend a hand, but he kept volunteering without question. He said he wanted to help, but it was clear things were starting to weigh on him. Still, he kept pushing through it. Naomi wondered what he must have been through to be able to even try and soldier through all of this. "With the state of some of the injured troops, it's hard to say how much that's going to last. We're lucky that at least some of the stuff at this base was untouched, but that can only go so far."
"Guess that's just our luck," Beckett said with a frustrated groan, looking in pain as he sat back down to ease his old injury. He pressed a hand to his forehead. "There's not much of a choice in the matter, then. We scavenge or we die. In other words, I don't see any way out of this other than taking the risk."
"We're really going to go through with a raid?" Long Caster asked. As Beckett had pointed out earlier, they weren't certain this would be their final strategy. He'd told Count it was a contingency after all, but now that they had their answer it was pretty hard to think about. It had just been a what-if and then in a few minutes it became real. Naomi wasn't exactly surprised, she'd been ready for a fight from the beginning, but even she didn't like it.
"Hard to see any other option," Count pointed out. "Guess we'll pay for it someday, but...still."
"What are you planning to do?" the Princess asked, only Beckett looking up at her. "I mean, where will you go?"
"No idea, yet. Trigger?" Beckett looked to Naomi, expecting her input.
"You know exactly what I want to do," Naomi answered, her previous comments a clear indication about what she thought about it. There was a lot on the line, and Naomi wasn't only thinking about the lives of the refugees and Osea's soldiers. The Princess was right, there were other civilians to worry about. But it sounded to her like Shilage was their best bet. Even so, if they could review what they knew about the other bases they should. "We have a bit of time. I'm not sending anyone in unless I know we stand a chance...so, let's go over our intel and speak with the others. We'll figure something out."
"I guess it's settled, then. Not exactly how I was hoping things would play out," her father said, clearly bothered by the prospect. He wouldn't know if they were targeting a base or that castle, and frankly they didn't know either, but it was hard to see an alternative. In fact, Naomi wondered if there was one at all. As everyone quietly accepted what they had to do, her father spoke up again. "In the meantime...what's our game plan until the operation?"
"Just follow the only rule that ever matters in war," Beckett replied, tilting his head up slightly. "Survive."
"We've been doing that for this long, why change now?" Naomi said, heading for the door. She heard Count stand up to follow her, and although she said it loud enough for everyone to hear she was mostly speaking to herself. "No matter what we end up doing, I'm going to get us out of this."
And she meant it.