A chilly breeze brushes through Korra's hair as she steps off the train. It's the beginning of April and the cold of winter is still hanging in the air. She pulls at the collar of her warm leather jacket to protect herself from the wind. Adjusting her transport bag on her shoulder, she follows four of her fellow comrades towards the exit of the small train station. She's familiar with only one of their faces – a young man, who has gone through his training at the same base as she has, but she doesn't know his name. If she remembers correctly, he's been training on bomber planes, while Korra has been drilling on fighter planes.
Once outside, two officers greet them. One of them starts speaking in French, which leaves Korra and the others confused. When he finishes though, the other officer quickly translates what the first one has said.
"Welcome to France. It is highly advisable that you learn French ASAP. Most of the time you won't be so lucky to have the company of someone who can. I'm flight lieutenant Baker," says the man and then points to his French companion, "and this is group commander Martin. We will escort you to the military air base near Bar-le-Duc, where No. 19 and 48 Squadrons of the Royal Flying Corps and Escadrille MS22 are stationed. There you'll be assigned to your units and planes. Any questions?"
Korra and the others look at each other, shrugging their shoulders when no one seems to be willing to ask anything. "No, sir!" they reply in unison.
"Very well then," says the flight lieutenant and turns to the commander, telling him something in French. The higher ranking officer nods. "Follow me," commands the Englishman, and they start marching in an orderly fashion until they reach the truck, that takes them to the air force base.
It's a short ride and soon they find themselves standing almost ankle deep in mud, in the middle of the airbase. Korra looks down at her boots and releases a deep sigh. I just cleaned them on the train ride, she thinks and slumps her shoulders. The truck drives off and the lieutenant joins them, though he manages to avoid most of the dirt and finds himself a decently dry spot. "Eyes on me," he says and everyone lifts their gazes, their shoulders drawn slightly back and chests puffed out. Even though Korra feels like her feet keep sinking, she stands still at attention. "This is now your home for an indefinite time. As you may already know, even though it's been almost three years, the war still isn't even close to the end. Especially here. We're located close to the Western Front, where the Germans are holding their lines firmly. Since the war began, no significant advances have been made if I may say so." He falls silent for a moment, inspecting the fresh faces in front of him. "On the 9th of April, that's in two days, our troops will start an offensive near the city of Arras. It will be up to us to provide a strong support and defence for the bombers, who will clean the way for the infantry. This morning, a flight of six brand new Bristols went on a patrol. We expect them to return with information about possible enemy movements. Before they return though, you'll take your things to your rooms, where you will wait for further commands. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!" the newbies reply again in unison.
Taking a piece of paper out of his pocket, the lieutenant clears his voice and starts reading. "I'll call your names and let you know about your assigned units. Cam, Teo, you're in the No. 19 Squadron. Duke, Korra, the No. 48 Squadron. Bolin, the French need a bomber. You're with them."
Korra feels a bit sorry for the boy. I hope he knows at least a bit of French.
"Questions?"
Duke raises his hand. "When do we geit to fly the planes?" He asks in his thick Scottish accent.
The lieutenant looks at him and bursts into laughter. "Trust me lad, the last thing you want to be eager for is flying. You'll never want to walk the earth more than when bullets of Fokkers start flying around your head. It's hell up there."
Wow, fine words of encouragement, Korra thinks to herself and for a second, she imagines herself up there in the sky, dogfighting the enemy planes. She wants to help her country win this war and bring back peace. The war has already taken too big of a toll on everyone.
"Alright, if that's all – 19th Squadron, you report to squadron leader Tom. You'll find him there." The lieutenant points to a small building behind the young pilot officers. "Squadron 48, you report to squadron leader Sato." He points to the building near the hangar. "There. And you," he looks at Bolin, "you'll come with me. From now on, you answer directly to your squadron leaders." Eyeing them, he clanks his heels together. "Pilot officers, attention!"
Korra and the others snap into the position of attention, waiting for further orders.
"You're dismissed!" barks the lieutenant and the small group separates, going into the designated directions.
"Do ye reckon they'll send us in when the offensive starts?" asks Duke, as he and Korra approach the building.
"I think so, yes. If it's true that the Germans have been shooting our guys down like flies, then we're going to need all hands on deck," replies Korra. "I think this is it," she says when they stop at the entrance of the building. She knocks and opens the door where she finds two people, a man and a woman, talking at a desk, a huge map splayed across the wooden surface.
"Excuse me, we're looking for squad commander Sato."
Without turning towards her, the man tells her to come in. "And please do wipe your boots before you enter."
Korra does as she's told and Duke mimics her actions, doing his best to get the majority of the mud off his boots. They walk closer and stop next to the pair. Korra looks at the raven haired woman's profile. She is caught deep in her thoughts, her eyes fixed on the map, while her fingers play absentmindedly on her chin. She can't be much older than me. Without even getting a full view of her face, Korra finds her beautiful.
She turns back to the man, who looks very young as well. "Squadron leader Sato, my name is Korra, this is Duke. We're reporting for duty." That piques the woman attention and she finally turns around to face the pilot officers. Her emerald eyes now on Korra, the newbie almost gasps, but luckily manages to restrain herself from doing it. Yep, she's drop dead gorgeous.
For no reason, a mischievous smile starts playing on the raven haired beauty's face and with the corner of her eye, Korra catches her squadron leader shaking his head at the woman.
"C'mon, Asami, you know the last three fellows never recovered after that," he pleads, but it's evident he's enjoying the exchange.
Korra looks at Duke, who just shrugs his shoulders, having no clue what this is all about.
"Play along," says the woman and her comrade sighs with a smirk.
"Fine." Suddenly, he snaps into the position of attention and barks an order. "Pilot officers, A-position!"
Korra and Duke quickly do as they're told, both wondering what that was for, and in the blink of an eye they're both in the high plank position.
Then the woman's voice barks a new order. "Pilot officers, B-position!"
Confused, they go into the new position, putting their transport bags on their abdomens, so they can lie on their backs. "Give me fifty crunches!" she orders and they start moving.
The pair of officers is looking at them with amusement while the newbies struggle with their heavy bags.
Before they get to twenty, a new order is called. "Pilot officers, stand up and give me thirty squats!" orders the squadron commander and Korra and her comrade shuffle back to their feet.
This time they haven't even started working when the woman gives them a new order. "Back to B-position!"
And then right after that the commander barks his order, which leaves the pair of newbies going up and down while the ranking officers yell their orders simultaneously.
"C-position!"
"Stand up!"
"A-position!"
"What are you–"
"Give me twenty–"
"–looking at?!"
"–push-ups!"
"I can't– "
"What is–"
"–see you working!"
"–this fiddly fiddle?"
By now, Korra is deeply confused, not sure how it got to this. She was sweating and her muscles were getting sore. Right when she was about to do an offence and ask what is going on, both officers yelled a new order in unison.
"Pilot officers, attention!"
Standing straight and trying to hide their heavy breathing, they look at the wall behind the pair in charge.
The man turns to the raven haired beauty. "Squadron commander Sato, you may continue from here."
Oh shit.
At that moment, Korra wishes she drowned in that muddy puddle she was standing in not long ago. It takes all of her willpower to not hit her forehead and fall on her knees to start apologizing. This isn't happening, this isn't happening. You stupid idiot, Korra, stupid, stupid, stupid. Insignias on the uniforms are there for a reason, you dumb fuck. Her cheeks, ears and neck are on fire. The fact that she can actually feel awkwardness radiating from Duke's body makes the situation even worse.
"Yes, wing commander Iroh. Understood," replies the real squadron officer. They salute and a moment later, the tall man leaves the building.
Silence envelopes them and Korra doesn't dare to look at her officer.
"At ease," commands Asami, and the pair relaxes a bit. Finally looking at her face, Korra notices that the mischievous smile never left Asami's lips. That makes her feel a bit better about this whole mishap. But only a bit.
"As you know now, I'm your squadron commander. The name's Asami. Asami Sato and from now on you're under my command, unless you're told otherwise. I'll take you for a tour around the base, so you get familiar with how things are done here. That was going to be your first lesson but since you've just gone through one, which was, by the way, what, Korra?"
For a moment, Korra doesn't register the commander is talking to her. She is too busy with being embarrassed and, at the same time, admiring this beauty standing in front of her. "Oh, um, the first lesson?" asks Korra awkwardly.
Asami nods, urging her to continue.
"Yeah, the first lesson was that you should always check the officer's rank before, er, addressing them?" Korra finishes lamely.
"Correct," says Asami. "I expect this was a one-time lesson."
"Yes, ma'am," replies Korra.
"Alright then. I'll show you where to leave your things, then we can start the tour. Follow me," orders Asami and takes her jacket and puts it on, untucking her long raven hair and letting it fall on her back.
Walking outside, she stops and shows Duke where the men's rooms are, which leaves Korra and the officer alone. They keep walking in silence, until the pilot officer finds her courage to speak. "Commander Sato?"
"Yes, Korra?" says Asami without looking back.
"I wanna apologize for, you know, for not being careful enough and ignoring the fact that I shouldn't have assumed things. You probably get that a lot and since I'm a woman in the military myself, this whole situation makes it even worse because I know how things can be really hard for someone like you and me and–and I'm really sorry." Korra looks down at her hands. She doesn't know when they stopped and suddenly, there's a hand gripping her shoulder gently. She looks up and is caught in pools of emerald, looking softly down at her. Why is she so beautiful and I'm so stupid?
"Korra, it's alright, you've learnt your lesson and besides, I think we still have a long way to go until we fix this … Issue. No hard feelings," says Asami and squeezes Korra's shoulder lightly before letting it go. "Though, you still have to apologize to wing commander Iroh. I'm warning you, he won't let you go that easily."
Korra feels her blood drain away and she tries to say something, but those words come out as a mumbling mess.
"I'm just kidding, he's probably still laughing his butt off. That, or he's already forgotten about it all."
"Yeah, I'd probably laugh at my confused and blushing face too if I wasn't too busy dying of embarrassment."
That makes Asami laugh and Korra decides she wants to hear more of that sound. "C'mon, I'll show you your room before your comrade starts thinking we took a girls' night out."
After removing their boots at the barrack, they enter and Asami leads them to a small room with six bunk beds. They are all empty except for one, which is done neatly.
"At the moment, there are currently only three women at the base. You, me and a communications operator, but she's staying at her post, so it's only us. You can pick whichever bed you want," says Asami.
We're alone in here? I'm going to sleep in here, alone with her, with no one else? I'll never get any sleep. And which bed should I choose?
"Is this one fine?" asks Korra and points to the one next to Asami's. It would look weird if she picked the one on the other side of the room.
"Sure, just leave your things here, you'll make your bed later, because we're on a tight schedule," replies the commander.
Korra tucks her bag under the bed. "I'm ready."
"Excellent! Let's go."
Duke's waiting for them where they separated earlier. "I'll take you to the hangar first so you can meet your planes," says Asami as they start walking towards the huge metal building. "In which aircrafts have you flown?"
"AVRO 504," reply Korra and Duke in unison.
"Hm, still? I thought they had replaced them with something newer or at least something that's similar to what we're flying here … Those old machines don't stand a chance against the new models of Fokkers and Albatroses."
"Well, we did get to fly Sopwith Pups once," says Korra.
"Better, but still not enough. I guess we'll have to do a lot of test flights in the next two days." Asami's voice sounds a tad angry for the first time since they've met. "Here we are." They stop in front of the hangar, filled with planes of different shapes and sizes. "Those birds over there," the commander points to the left side of the building, "are new Bristol F.2 two seated biplane fighters. The patrol team took six of them for a test ride. This is their first real action flight."
Walking over to another set of planes, the trio stops in front of a red biplane fighter. "This is my baby, Nieuport 17. She is my first plane. Her fist owner died after landing on the base. He bled out in her." Asami taps the wing lovingly before she proceeds and makes a gesture towards a pair of two slightly damaged planes. "Yeah, these two have seen better days. SPAD S. VIIs, these are a bit heavier than my Nieuport, but since the only training you have is with those rugged machines, you shouldn't have much trouble getting used to them."
Korra walks closer to the one Asami is standing close to. She can't help but admire the lines and curves of her plane. This is what she's been dreaming about her whole life. To fly. Feel the wind and see the world beneath her as it grows smaller with each second.
"She's beautiful," the young pilot whispers before she realizes she's not alone. She looks at her commander who's smiling at her. It's a warm smile, no trace of mockery in it. Her eyes are filled with understanding. For a moment, they stare at each other, Korra's hand still on her plane, while Asami leans on her aircraft, arms crossed on her chest.
The moment is lost when shouts and yells echo through the base.
"Squadron officer Sato, the flight is returning!" yells one of the mechanics.
Asami stands straight again. "Pilot officers, follow me!" she barks and they're off. Duke smiles at Korra. They're both excited to see the landing of planes that are returning from the battle zone, even though it was just a patrol.
They arrive to the airstrip, stopping next to the wing commander, to whom Korra still owes an apology. She's about to say something when a shout interrupts her.
"There they are!"
Korra wants to shout with excitement, greet the pilots, but the look on Asami's face stops her.
"Why are there only two of them?" the commander whispers and indeed, only two aircrafts are approaching them from behind the high hills.
One of them is leaving a heavy trail of smoke behind it. It's a miracle the thing is still in the air.
"Get the medic!" yells the wing commander and someone runs back towards the base.
Something heavy settles in Korra's stomach as the planes land. She looks at Asami whose eyes are expressing more than just worry.