A/N: I've changed the rating from M to T. I'll be going back over the next few days to edit some technical points in several of the older chapters, but otherwise content won't be touched. 780 is staying M. Most of all, though, thanks for reading!

Engagement 1: Patrol

Ramona blacked out when the stick snapped under her boot. The loud crack rang in her ears, and before she could help herself she'd frozen in place. It wasn't an unfamiliar sound. In fact, it was frighteningly familiar; a quieter brother to the noise of a bullet breaking the sound barrier as it shot past. It hadn't been a bullet. Even though she knew it hadn't been an incoming round, the sound had been enough to make her consider calling the patrol off. Instead, she took a step forward. It didn't make a difference what the sound had been. Either way, she was going to die.

It had been nearly a full year since she'd joined the Militia, but it hadn't been until the last four months that she'd realized what that had actually meant - she was a body in a pair of boots. While she had never pictured herself in combat boots before joining the Militia, she was surprised to find that before the war started she'd actually liked them. They were comfortable, durable, and most importantly matched the combat utilities. It wasn't until recently that she realized they would likely be the last things she would ever wear.

Stopping, she knelt. It was too dark in the forest to see more than a few meters ahead. Moving through the brush was difficult. Communication was even worse. She could talk all day long, but chattering while on patrol got people killed. Hand signals didn't work in the dark, though, and her section couldn't follow her lead if they couldn't see her.

Not wanting to call out, she took her hand off of the foregrip of her rifle and struck her thigh. It wasn't as distinguishing as a voice. When the sound of movement stopped she took another look into the darkness ahead of her. There were plenty of trees in the short distance she could see, and whole lot of brush, but she couldn't see any suits of armor or silhouettes moving through the forest. They were still a good distance away from the Imperial line, and so long as nobody yelled there wasn't any harm in whispering orders. "Streiss?" she said.

Nina's figure came into focus as she moved closer. "Yeah?"

"I've got your sector covered," Ramona said. Peering out, she could see the areas beyond where Nina had been standing before she'd moved. Her night vision was better than the other woman's, so the unit wouldn't be left any more vulnerable, even with her doubling up on zones. "Go back and get Landzaat. Tell him to bring everyone up with him."

Nodding, Nina gave her a pat on the shoulder before lowering her weapon and moving towards their rear. Before long Ramona heard the soft rustling of gear and underbrush behind her. "You called?" she heard Karl say when the noise stopped.

Behind him, nine other Militiamen waited for her orders. It had taken some time to get used to the idea of being section leader, but after the Squad's first couple of days in the field things fell into place. She'd been in command of the unit since before the war, but it wasn't until they'd seen their first combat that anyone actually respected her. There had been all sorts of rumors that she'd been put on the fast track through the ranks because an officer had heard she had been a model and thought he could use her for propaganda. As much as she hated the thought of it, she believed it herself. Coby had made sure the section had followed her orders, and once they entered actual combat she proved she was fit for the job. There were still plenty of jokes flying around, but at least people listened when she gave an order. "We're not going to be able to move on like this," she said to Karl.

Karl poked his head around her. From his face she could tell he hadn't seen anything more than she had. Probably less. "Well what exactly do you want to do?" he asked. "We can't just go back."

"I know." Looking the section over she thought about her options. With nine people to babysit nothing was going to work the way she wanted it, but with a small group it would have been easier to move unnoticed. "I'll take like, three or four on ahead. You stay here with the rest and be ready to pull us out if something goes wrong."

"Are we close?"

Ramona resisted the temptation to reach into her rucksack and pull out her map. She already knew where they were - checking again would have been stalling. "They should still be about four-hundred meters out," she said. "Still, if they've got a patrol moving out there they'll be easier to avoid with just a few of us than the whole section. I'll take three ahead. Keep an eye on the rest."

"You mean I'm staying?"

The relief on Karl's face forced Ramona to hold in a laugh. He was a smart guy, and she was glad to have someone like him as her assistant section leader, but he was jumpy. People listened to her so long as she smiled and looked pretty, but he actually knew how to put people to work outside of combat. Once they left their own lines it was up to her. "Yeah, you're staying." Turning around, she gave Nina a quick pat on the back. The woman was by far one of the fittest in the Squad, let alone the section. "I'm taking Streiss with me," she said.

Shifting on the balls of her feet, Ramona took an inventory of the rest of the section. It was the Squad's weapons section, and it wasn't built for quick movement. Almost a full quarter of it was devoted to maintaining and operating Wendy's .30 caliber machinegun, and while the extra firepower was more than welcome it didn't make for a quick set up or egress. "Stijnen too," she said. "Cherry, leave the .30's tripod and any extra ammo you've got with Landzaat."

"Right on, right on," Cherry said as she stepped forward. Cherry was a handful, but she was light and fast. It didn't hurt that she was also a good friend. Wendy probably wasn't happy that her assistant gunner was being stolen, but she'd deal with it.

"Alright then," Ramona said looking over the two she'd pulled aside. "Anyone else want to volunteer?"

She wasn't expecting anything, and when Hermes stepped forward she had to hide her surprise. "I'll go," he said.

It took her a moment to catch on, but when Ramona realized what the group would look like with Hermes along she shook her head and sighed. With all of the gear they were wearing it was almost impossible to tell a man from a woman from the neck down, but without helmets everything above the shoulders gave them away. "Do you want to go because you want to go, or are you volunteering for the company?" she asked.

Hermes smiled. "Is there a difference?"

If she hadn't been wearing forty pounds of equipment, Ramona would have been watching where the man's eyes were wandering. As it was there wasn't much to see. "Not in this unit," she mumbled. Waving him over, she gave Karl one last nod and turned to brief the group of three she was taking ahead with her. As much as the extra gear protected against wandering eyes, she wanted as much of it stripped as possible. "Shit-can anything that doesn't shoot or blow up," she said unhooking her canteen from her waist. "If it's going to make noise or get in the way it gets left behind."

"So what do we do with Cherry?" Nina asked.

"Let her chat away," Ramona said. Inspecting her rifle, she made sure the safety was engaged before pulling the charging handle back far enough to check the chamber. "Maybe if we send her in first she'll soak up all the incoming fire."

"Oh, come on," Cherry said. "What would you do without me?"

Checking her own weapon, Nina paused just long enough to roll her eyes. "Sleep soundly for a change."

Ramona heard Cherry let out a quiet chuckle before the girl caught herself and held a straight face. She couldn't do the same. "And what are you laughing at?" Cherry asked, throwing a hand in the air. "You talk just as much as I do."

"Fair," Ramona said as she inspected the rest of her equipment. She had one magazine loaded into her rifle and five to spare in her vest – 90 rounds in all, not counting the spare magazines she was carrying for the handgun strapped down at her thigh. It was the standard front line load, but being a section leader in Catherine's platoon she was used to carrying double that. "Then again," she continued, "I can get my kicks bossing you around, so I don't have to stay up all night talking to poor Nina in her sleep."

Cherry's eyes dropped. After a few seconds of staring blankly, she took a quick scan of her rifle and drew back on its charging handle. "Bitch."

Smiling again, Ramona had to suppress another laugh. "Hey," she heard Hermes say as he reached out to pat Cherry on the shoulder. "You can still talk to me in my sleep if you want."

"Yeah, yeah," Ramona said still chuckling, "fun's over." Edging forward, she took a step past Nina and looked out into the woods ahead of her. "Sometime over the last day or so Squad 4 lost the position of the Imps' front lines. We've got to find out where they went. The Lieutenant's guess puts them another four-hundred meters out there, but watch for patrols. Once we hit an observation post or something we'll mark it down and head back. We're not equipped to stay and fight. Hopefully it won't come to it, but if you make contact, break it. Cool?"

Hermes and Nina nodded. In the dark, Cherry flashed a thumbs up. Looking back, Ramona locked eyes with Karl. He wasn't going, but she needed him ready just in case they ran into something they weren't quite prepared to deal with. "Don't worry," he said as if he'd read her mind. "We won't leave you out there."

"I know," she said. As comforting as his words were they didn't do much to ease her mind. The thought of taking a round to the gut nearly spilled her dinner all over the forest floor. Forcing herself to relax, she swallowed hard, smiled, and shot Karl a wink. "I'm too pretty to leave behind, right?"

Smiling himself, the man laughed. "Don't tell Lynn," he said.

"Deal." Turning back to her own group, Ramona looked each of them over before nodding and directing them forward. She wasn't smiling anymore, and neither were they. Each of them was carrying a weapon. All it would take to kill would be a quick flick of a safety and a pull of a trigger. They'd all done it before, and so had she. It was part of the job. As the four Militiamen left the rest of their section behind, she tried to remember exactly how she'd found herself in that line of work in the first place. The only people who knew the full story were Cherry and her father, and she hadn't been on speaking terms with him since she'd left home.

None of that was important at the moment. All that mattered was getting through the night. She could see Cherry's silhouette to her left and Hermes's off to her right. She couldn't see Nina in the dark, but from the way Hermes was checking his flanks every few meters she could tell the woman was still in formation.

Trying to peer through the dark, Ramona searched for any shapes that looked out of the ordinary. They had only moved two-hundred meters. The observation post was still supposed to be another two-hundred out. It wouldn't have been a long distance in the daylight, but under the canopy of leaves and the cover of night it seemed like a mile.

Ramona hadn't taken three steps forward before she dropped down to her knee, placing her thumb over her rifle's safety. Something ahead had moved. She hadn't seen a shape the first time, but the second time it shifted she was sure it was a helmet. Cherry had already stopped with her. As she turned to her right Hermes stopped as well. The man had been a bit slower on the uptake, but once he dropped to his knee she knew he'd seen her halt.

There was a loud snap to Hermes's right. It was the second time Ramona had heard the sound that night. She knew before it had faded that someone had stepped on a small branch. When she looked back to where she'd seen the helmet before she saw not one, but three of bobbing, and when the motion was followed by the sound of metal sliding against metal there was only one word that came to mind – 'Fuck'.

She was nearly blinded by the glare of the muzzle flash down-field. The light tore into everything in its path, casting shadows through the forest ahead of it and illuminating the brush ahead like daylight. The only thing worse than the light burning her eyes was the noise ripping through her ears. Each short burst sounded like a single shot, but the bullets slamming into the trees and bushes around her told her otherwise. Splinters and broken branches flew through the air, lodging themselves in her uniform and hair as they finally hit the ground. When the machinegun's fire shifted from where the twig had snapped to where she had her face pressed into the dirt and mud she heard the worst sound in the world – the sharp snap that told her the round that had just missed, and that it had been meant for her. Ballistic cracks. She would have given anything to be deaf.

As she crawled forward she tried to ignore the dirt that streaked her uniform as her stomach slid across the forest floor. She had already landed in a thick patch of mud, and the muck caked her face and tangled her hair. She was sure she looked like Hell, but the Imps wouldn't care. They'd shoot anything wearing blue, regardless of how it looked. She was probably just about the only woman in Gallia who still even cared by that point. Everyone else had either learned their lesson or died.

When Ramona found a log that looked sturdy enough to stop a bullet, she thumbed her weapon's safety. She'd lost sight of the others, and she couldn't hear any movement over the sound of the heavy weapon bursts from the Imperial machinegun. "Everyone alright?" she called out over the gunfire.

She heard another series of reports from where Cherry had been standing. Each blast told her that her friend was still alive. "Sure," she heard Cherry say from somewhere in the shadows and brush, "but you're cutting it a bit close, yeah? We bookin' it?"

"Soon as we can get moving," Ramona called back. She couldn't see Hermes. "Kissinger?"

The only sound that reached her ears from her side was the steady crack of Cherry's rifle. Each report drilled into her head, and after a few seconds of waiting she heard a slight ringing. It got louder with each successive shot. The only thing she really cared about was that Cherry was alive to fire, but the standard issue Gallian-4 was the loudest battle rifle in the field. With her ears under attack and the ringing growing louder, Ramona almost didn't hear Hermes call out. "Here," he said, crawling through the brush next to her. "I'm alright."

With Hermes accounted for Ramona was tempted to lift her head high enough to look for Nina. When the top of the log exploded out in a fountain of bark and splinters in front of her, she instead pressed her head closer to the ground. "Did you see Streiss?"

"She's down."

When the words made it through all of the cracks and the ringing, Ramona twisted her head until she was supporting herself on her chin instead of her cheek. The movement lifted her head a few inches higher. She still couldn't see Nina. "Dead?"

"I don't know," Hermes said. His voice broke as he spoke, and his eyes were peeled wide open. "I can't get to her," he continued. "She's not moving."

Holding back a long string of curses, Ramona worked her rifle's safety. She wasn't in a position to fire, and with a man down she needed to focus her attention elsewhere. Nina was carrying the group's only submachine gun. That sealed the deal - forget the rifle, get to Nina, and grab her Mags. No sweat. "Hey Cherry!" Ramona yelled. "Nina's down. I'm going to go make a grab for her weapon. We're not leaving you. Just hold here and keep firing."

"Go for it," Cherry said between shots. "Just don't totally screw me, okay?"

Nodding, Ramona crawled towards where Hermes had appeared through the brush. Pushing forward, she ignored the slick coating of dirt that rubbed against her stomach and the inside of her arms and legs. Her knee and elbow pads kept her from feeling a lot of the muck, but they were on the inside of her combat utilities, and the fabric that was smashed between the pads and the dirt she was crawling over was likely stained for good. That bothered her – almost as much as the realization that the thoughts were running through her mind as she was crawling towards a casualty.

Hermes followed her. The man had joined the Squad around the same time as Nina. He had a soft spot for all of the women in the unit, but he probably would have gotten along well with her regardless of sex. "Over there," he said as he pointed as far as he could without exposing his arm. "She's not moving, and she didn't say anything when I called over to her."

Nina was lying face down, and the back of her pack stuck out above the brush surrounding her. The group had been moving far enough away from each other that an explosion wouldn't have taken down more than one person. That left her a decent distance away, and there wasn't any cover between where the log ended and where Nina had fallen. Ramona still needed the Mags. "Here," she said as she reached for the grenades she was carrying and handed them over to Hermes. "Do whatever you can with these and lay down some fire."

"I can't throw that far," he said, looking down at the explosives she'd given him.

"I know," Ramona said. Staying as low to the ground as possible, she stripped off her pack and set her rifle down next to the log. She had her handgun, and the pack and the rifle were going to slow her down. "See if you can't get their heads down though. If nothing else it'll at least distract them."

"You're really going?"

Peeking just far enough out of cover to get a look, Ramona could see that several flashes other than the machinegun now lit the forest. "Yeah," she said. Hoping she'd sounded confident, she prepared to push off. As the ringing in her ears continued, she found that her legs had somehow been replaced with lead weights. She told herself it didn't make a difference. Once she started rolling momentum would carry her the rest of the way.

She stayed only long enough to watch Hermes huck one of her grenades down-field before closing her eyes and tossing herself out from behind the log. At least, she thought she'd closed her eyes. She still saw the blast in the light of the muzzle flashes. The concussive force sent dirt flying and covered the field in a thick cloud of dirty smoke. It wouldn't last long, but it would at least conceal her for the time being. Rolling from left to right, she tried to ignore the cracks of the rounds flying past her, and was almost thankful that the heavy 'whump' of the grenade burst nearly deafened her. Her hearing wouldn't be the same for a good day or so, but it was a small price to pay for a little bit of comfort and security – or the illusion of the two.

By the time Hermes's rifle sounded off, Ramona had come to a stop next to where Nina had hit the ground. Looking around, there wasn't much for cover besides the base of a tree a meter from where the woman had fallen. It was workable. Getting Nina there would be step one. "Nina, are you okay?" Hermes had already told her the woman was unresponsive, but she wanted a better look up close. When she tapped her on the shoulder and repeated the question, the woman still didn't move.

Ramona pulled Nina's Mags out from under her and slung it around her shoulder. With a gentle tug, she dragged Nina alongside her as she headed for the base of the tree. Ramona had a good five inches of height on the other woman, but Nina was far more muscular, and with all of the extra weight she was carrying she had to strain to get the woman moving without resorting to physically getting up and carrying her. When she made it to the tree's trunk, she set Nina's Mags on her lap before turning her attention to the woman herself.

Stripping Nina's pack and tossing it aside, Ramona rolled her onto her back. She was still breathing. After ensuring her airway was clear, Ramona searched for any physical injuries she could find. The stock of the woman's Mags had been coated in blood when she'd pulled it out from under her. There was a dark splotch that had spread across the front of Nina's uniform, and there were several rips and tears in the fabric near the stain's center. She was just about to open the woman's uniform and reach for her field kit when a bright flash illuminated an armored figure creeping around the bend.

Ignoring the Mags on her lap, Ramona's hand went straight for the handgun on her thigh. She already knew it was loaded and that there was a round chambered. By the time the weapon had cleared its holster she'd already thumbed the safety, and within a second and a half the weapon was trained on her target. When the slide jumped back she lost sight of what she was firing at behind the muzzle flash.

When she stopped firing, it took a couple of seconds for her eyes to readjust. There was a bright green afterimage of the flash floating in front of her. She kept the gun raised for another ten count before ejecting the half empty magazine and replacing it with a full one.

When the man didn't reappear, Ramona dropped the handgun back into its holster and turned her attention to the Mags. She could hear more cracks now, and there was a series of loud 'thwacks' as rounds from one of the Imperial weapons slammed into the tree trunk she'd hunkered behind. Someone else had seen the flashes from her weapon. Nina was going to have to wait. Lifting the woman's weapon Ramona released the magazine. It was heavy. After checking the chamber, she slammed the magazine back into the magazine well and cycled the bolt.

There were even more flashes going off when she poked her head around the tree trunk. It was impossible to see their silhouettes, but the bright bursts of light were more than enough to tell her where the Imps were firing from. Picking one of them out, she lifted the Mags and put her sight picture over where she figured the flash put the shooter. When she disengaged the safety and put her finger on the weapon's trigger, she realized that as soon as she fired they were going to pinpoint her as well. At least one of them had seen her handgun go off. It was going to be difficult for the rest to miss the Mags – and considering it was going to be sending more rounds their way than Cherry and Hermes combined, it was going to draw a lot of unwanted attention.

Licking her lips, Ramona drew a deep breath. It was slow and steady, but it didn't make her feel any better, and the following exhale came out in ragged bursts. Even though she was supporting the weapon against the trunk of the tree it felt heavy. She could smell the blood on the stock as she pressed her cheek against it. It was sticky. Pushing the thought of what she'd just painted the side of her face with out of her mind, she steadied her breath and pulled the trigger.

It had been a long time since she'd fired a Mags – nearly since weapons familiarization when she'd been a recruit. Each kick into her shoulder reminded her why she preferred the rifle. The rifle bucked harder, but it only fired once. She let her first burst go too long. By the time she released the trigger her rounds were flying all over the place. After the second burst there was another afterimage floating in front of her. By the time she'd let off her third the Imps were firing back. The bullet impacts against the tree trunk shot a spray of splinters and fragments against her face.

When the Mags' bolt locked back, Ramona twisted herself behind the trunk and tossed the empty magazine aside. With her weapon empty she reached into Nina's rig for a new magazine. After reloading the gun, she took a brief second to look the woman over. The dark splotch on Nina's uniform had expanded. She was still breathing.

Ramona's hearing faded out again when a grenade exploded nearby. Dropping the Mags, she nearly toppled onto her side as clouds of smoke rolled over her. Whoever had tossed the grenade had been within throwing distance. She reached her hand up to her vest to grab a grenade. They weren't there. She'd left them with Hermes.

When another splintering of secondary fragments scratched across her face Ramona realized she was out of options. Throat dry and body shaking, she tried to lift Nina's Mags again. Her arms complied, but she couldn't convince her hands to give the weapon's grips a strong hold. The weapon shook clumsily as she brought it into position. Its felt like it had a hundred pound trigger pull. When the gun finally went off she didn't let go of the trigger. It had been hard enough firing the weapon the first time – a second burst wasn't going to happen.

When the bolt locked back Ramona knew she hadn't hit anything. She'd only seen where the first batch of rounds had gone. As the last casing hit the ground she found that everything in front of her was distorted behind a screen of green. The afterimage was going to be sticking around for a while, as was the constant ringing in her ears. The low buzz was barely audible over the sounds of the firefight, but as soon as the shooting stopped she was sure it would be deafening.

Another grenade burst sent a shudder through her, but it had gone off around where she'd left Cherry. She could feel tears welling up, but she quickly blinked them away. If Cherry was still alive they'd keep fighting. If she was dead their flank had fallen. Either way, the firefight wasn't going to last much longer. When she heard movement off to her own flank, she knew it had already ended. Her Mags was empty. She had her handgun, but she could hear more than one person advancing on her, and they'd have her dead before she emptied a magazine. Her hand was on the weapons grip before she could convince herself otherwise.

Ramona saw the muzzle flash of the other weapon. She hadn't even cleared her own holster. As close as the report was, she could still hear her ears ringing over the noise of the burst. It hummed a low, constant whine. She hated the sound almost more than she hated the sound of any Imperial rifle or bullet crack. Those sounds faded within moments. The ringing stayed for hours. It had been four days since she'd heard it last – a record for the past month. Her father had never heard it before; at least not like she had. He was probably safe and comfortably asleep back in his own bed at home, with no ringing in his ears and no idea that some Imp prick had his rifle aiming down his only child. Though she still saw the green splotches when she pressed her eyelids together, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were finally shut. She didn't expect to open them again.

The first round tore into her upper shoulder. It didn't hurt as much as she'd expected getting shot would have. She realized she must have gone into shock nearly instantly. The second two blows came in quick succession, leading up from the edge of her upper shoulder to the base of her neck. She'd seen one of her men get shot in the neck in the middle of a firefight once. He'd bled out before she could get a medic to him. Letting her head fall back against the tree trunk Ramona let out a last ragged breath.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Once again she felt the bullet impacts against her shoulder. They were harder this time, and her entire body rocked with each successive blow. Opening her eyes she found herself face to face with a man crouching. Dazed, she had trouble recognizing him. Ignoring him for the moment, she took a look at the bullet wounds the Imp weapon had dealt her. She didn't see them. Instead she saw the man's hand still holding her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Looking back up, Ramona placed the voice. Cezary. Glancing to her left she could see the weapon she'd heard still firing. It was Wendy's .30. "Yeah," she said nodding.

Cezary didn't move. Instead, she could see him look her up and down. "Were you hit?"

Running her hands over the front of her uniform, she felt for any wet spots or tears she hadn't felt before. The fabric was dirty, but other than the patches of Nina's blood that had smeared across her shoulder and face she checked out. "No."

Satisfied, Cezary turned to the body sprawled on the ground. "Streiss?"

"She's hit," Ramona said. She was still stunned, but her senses were beginning to ebb back into her. "Stomach and chest."

"Alright," the man said as he checked to make sure the woman was breathing. "The others?"

"Further down the line."

Removing a glove and running his fingers up Nina's neck, Cezary gave a slight nod. Ramona heard a rustling as two more figures stepped out from behind him and began making their way to where she'd left Hermes and Cherry. "Karl's with Wendy by the .30," Cezary said.

"Alright." Reaching down, Ramona pulled the remaining magazines from Nina's vest, and after reloading the Mags, she placed the spares in her own. "You have her covered?"

"Yeah."

"We're leaving as soon as you can pull her out. Get Stijnen and Kissinger and start falling back." Without waiting for a response, Ramona lifted herself back onto her feet and in a half crouch stepped out from behind the tree trunk. She never would have thought it possible a few moments before, but the light from Wendy's machinegun told her it was safe to move.

When she hit the crew's position, Ramona took a knee near the large stump the crew was using as cover. Karl noticed her as she dropped down next to him. "You're not going to tell Lynn, right?" he asked with a nervous smile. It wasn't hard to tell that he was worried about the firefight and not his fiancée.

With an exhausted chuckle Ramona mustered the biggest smile she could manage. It didn't amount to much. "We had a deal, remember?" Tapping Claudia on the shoulder, she waited until the woman looked up before she started issuing orders again. "We're not sticking around," she said when she was sure everybody was paying attention. "Start tearing this thing down and fall back." Turning slightly she locked eyes with Dorothy. "We're covering."

When Cezary returned with Nina and the .30's last cartridge fed itself through Wendy's machinegun, Karl and Claudia started dismantling the weapon. Raising the Mags to her shoulder, Ramona made sure to count heads as she saw Cherry and Hermes return with Audrey and Nadine. Everyone was accounted for and on their way out. Pulling her trigger, she fired a few short bursts before stopping to check their progress. Dorothy was still firing next to her. The section had disappeared into the darkness behind them. Tapping Dorothy on the shoulder, Ramona jerked her head back before bringing her weapon up again to finish off the magazine. When it was empty, she didn't bother to reload before turning to run herself. By the time she slammed a fresh magazine in the magazine well, the sound of the incoming fire was fading, and within a minute it had ceased.

The rest of the section was waiting for her two-hundred meters ahead. Panting, Ramona hunched over with her hands on her knees before looking around to make sure everybody was accounted for. Mina was already working on Nina, and the rest of the section had set up a small perimeter while she worked. Kneeling in silence, they waited until she'd finished patching the woman up before pulling out a collapsible stretcher and moving again.

It was still as dark as it had been before the firefight, but that didn't bother Ramona anymore. Her vision was still skewed, and her ears were going to be ringing for the next day or so, but that was fine too. She was alive enough to notice it. Their mission was complete, and as soon as they made it back to their own line the patrol would be over. She wasn't sure what was waiting for them in the shadows of the forest as the group marched, but Ramona was filled with the relief that they were returning home instead of going out. With each step forward her gut relaxed and her smile broadened.

Nina died on the way back.

Next: Orders