X Nate, Day Four of Operation Preserve Independence (Mountain Pass). X

"Here comes another one." Marcus pointed up. We all looked up to see a transport plane, a small, propeller-driven one, flying low over us before a bunch of crates fell out of its cargo doors, with parachutes deployed on each of the boxes. All of them drifted down to a spot behind the camp where a couple of guys were waiting to grab them.

It was the fifth or so plane we'd seen drop supplies to our battalion today. The first time it had been surprising, and then it got rather routine when the rest came. I shouldn't have been surprised anyway. Of course they knew exactly where we were; they had to get us out of here when we finished. And the supplies weren't too surprising either, since we hadn't brought all that much with us. We'd probably used up all of that recently, and that's why they were dropping more to us now. One of the other companies had been sent out on a raid yesterday, and it all went to hell after that. Those Lazurians REALLY hadn't liked that, and they'd been fighting on both sides of the mountain since. Our company was supposed to be rotated back in the fight any minute now, which was why we were assembled with our mortar and the other members of the platoon outside of our tent. Most of our time was spent listening to the distant gunfire and explosions.

How much stuff did the Lazurians have left? When they ran out, would they surrender? The way it was in movies, no one ever surrendered. They charged you with knives if they had, too. But so far, things hadn't been all that much like the movies. Still, I was really glad I wouldn't be close to them when they ran out of ammo. I'd caught a lucky break when I got assigned to one of the few mortars left in the Army, if what the lieutenant said was true.

"Everyone up!" Lieutenant Whitley yelled, breaking me out of my thoughts. "We're relieving C Company, so let's move fast and give those boys a break." The three of us jumped up and grabbed the mortar case. "We're moving out first so we can be there to provide cover while the platoons switch out," he explained, "so let's not be slow here!"

"Yes sir!" We all answered. The jog through the woods was easier this time. Even if we'd only been here a few days, people had walked around enough to make paths you could see. It went a long way towards making the place seem less scary. Actually, I was starting to see it like home, just like what had happened with basic training and then when we got to our original base. I guess I was getting into the mindset by appreciating what little I had.

All we had to do was follow the sound of mortars to find the clearing where C Company's heavy weapons platoon had set up. Theirs was pretty much the same as ours: so small that the officer in charge could personally order everyone around. I still remembered General Walraven's lecture about being important and all, but I had trouble believing it sometimes when I realized how small a part I played in the whole battle.

"A Company?" The lieutenant yelled to us. I wouldn't be surprised if he was having a hard time hearing after being out here for so long.

"Yeah!" Lieutenant Whitley yelled back. "Set up!" He called to us. All of us rushed forward to set up our mortars, while the machine guns set up in front of the clearing. We picked spots near the mortar crews that were already here. They were so busy firing that they didn't even look at us.

"Been firing randomly most of the day! They're anywhere from half a mile to two miles ahead!" The C Company lieutenant really must've lost his hearing, judging by how loud he was talking while trying to make himself heard. "Mostly we let the crew fire and adjust their own ranges: we get to hit a larger area, keeps the Lazurians disorganized, and every now and then we hit one of them! They haven't launched a single coordinated attack yet!"

Why are they still attacking? I wondered. If they couldn't organize and had to live in fear of random mortars coming down, why did they keep trying?

"Don't fire the mortars near the highway!" He warned. "What vehicles we got are there keeping the road locked down!"

"Understood!" Lieutenant Whitley was being just as loud as he was. "Mortars, fire and adjust! Machine guns, keep up the suppressing fire!" We were all in place and had our mortar set up when he said it. I quickly adjusted it so it would hit about a mile out. I gave thumbs up and Marcus dropped a shell in, which flew back out a moment later. I moved the barrel six degrees west and gave another thumb up.

For the next ten minutes, that was all both platoons did: fire and adjust, fire and adjust. There were explosions going off all over the place out there. Just when I thought we were running low on shells, some supply guys came with more and we kept firing. All the while, the lieutenants were apparently listening as our other platoons swapped places with C Company's.

When it was done, their lieutenant told them it was time to pull back. The mortar crew next to ours packed up with amazing speed and was moving away in less than half a minute. "Good luck!" One called, the first time any of them had spoke. They fell back and disappeared into the trees, heading back to camp for some well-deserved rest. The whole time they were withdrawing, our rate of fire didn't falter.

"Stay strong, platoon!" Whitley ordered when it was just us. "Only an enemy against the wall fights like this. They're close to breaking, and we could be the ones that do it, so keep up the fire!"

"Already?" I said to myself as I changed the direction and distance once again. "What's so different about today? Yesterday they were still strong."

"A lot can happen in a day," Eugene told me as he handed shells to Marcus. "Think how much has changed on their side." It might've just been all the noise, but I really could imagine what had been going on in their camps. And after another moment, I realize I didn't care all that much if they had their own problems. In fact, I kind of felt glad at the idea they were having troubles. Glad at other people's suffering...

This was my first real battle, and I was already turning into what they'd been trying to make me all along. And, at least from where I was right now, I didn't care about that either.

X Vera, fourteen days after the meteors. X

For a second day, I was heading back into the city to help. Having a better idea of what to expect, I didn't feel any sense of dread, just some weariness. It was still unpleasant to think of what I'd seen both inside and outside of the hospital. It was an image even something as horrific as war would struggle to make, but had been easily formed by nature. Unsettling was too weak a word to describe my feelings on the matter. But, I was still going back for the children's sake; the idea of so many of them still living in conditions like that upset me more than anything else I'd seen so far.

I wasn't alone today, though. Madeline and Hannah had both decided to come with me this time. Despite her scrutiny yesterday, Kerrigan allowed them with surprising ease; perhaps she'd seen some sense in our wanting to help. Whatever her thoughts, I myself was pleased. I recognized some faces from the truck I rode yesterday, although Kate wasn't among them. She was likely busy with her regular duties.

I handled the disturbing surroundings better this time, although it still created a horrible feeling in my stomach and my chest. The others gawked in horror just like I probably did. Despite the constant flow of people in and out of the hospital, the situation hadn't visibly changed. It would probably be weeks before it did.

"It's horrible..." Madeline had to look away. Hannah was subdued instead of her usual self.

Having seen how this system worked, I was the leader of our trio, and the others fell in behind me without realizing it. It was the same as yesterday: we lined up and got ourselves sent off. The officer in charge didn't acknowledge me and instead questioned the other two. When they said they were with me, he simply told us floor twelve and left.

Like me, they were somewhat bewildered by how disorganized things seemed here. "Just our name and rank and we're free to roam?" Madeline seemed most disturbed by it. I expected their reactions to reflect upon their reasons. Madeline, I was sure, was here for the same reason I was, so it would probably get a strong reaction out of her. But, Hannah... I wasn't exactly sure why she had decided to come along with us. She'd never struck me as the compassionate type. Perhaps it was the maternal instincts present in every woman.

Unfortunately for them both, there were much worse things left to see. This was the first time I genuinely disliked being more experienced at something.

I didn't watch for their reactions as we made our way to the twelfth floor. Like every floor, it was in chaos, and attention had to be given to avoid an accident. I did check to make sure they were still behind me, however. We arrived at the central office on the floor and asked for the officer in charge. The intention was to ask where the children were, and I hoped this floor was being managed better than the last one.

The lieutenant who was commanding this floor proved to be more considerate man than the others; he'd grouped all the children by their gender into two of the regular hospital rooms. I was pleased to know they would at least have a bathroom, a temperature-controlled environment, somewhere to sleep if they left the furniture in the room. It would probably be crowded, though...

"What about the boys?" Madeline asked as we were leaving.

"On the room next door." The officer clearly had more work to do, because he was talking as he walked off. "See to them if you can, too." And he was gone.

"This is a hospital?" Madeline shook her head. "I've volunteered at hospitals before. This isn't one." We were walking through the hall, with a grimace on her face as she did.

"They're not trained professionals in the field," I reminded her. "They're really just trying to keep the building open." I still thought they were doing a poor job in some aspects, but I wouldn't deny that they were seriously trying. It truly was a difficult world when effort alone wasn't enough.

The situation on this floor was better, perhaps even decent. There were only nine girls staying on this floor, with ages around three to six years old, and they were crammed into the hospital room. It was a lot smaller than the storage room yesterday, but it was still a better alternative. The hospital beds have been removed, likely for use in other rooms, so the only suitable resting places were a couch and a lone chair on the far side of the room. There was a small bathroom directly to the right of the entrance, containing a toilet, a sink, and small shower. The room was mildly warm, perhaps 70 degrees or so.

I felt a lot more positive about it this time around. Some improvements would be needed, but these girls had all they needed. I could probably spend more of my time socializing with them, something to raise their spirits, or maybe I should split my time and move to a different floor to help; this had to be an exception rather than the rule.

Madeline had chosen to go look in the room where they were keeping all the male children. True, I hadn't approached the male children yesterday, and I did not have any intention of doing so today. I cared about all children, but I was content with just helping the girls right now as long as they were segregated. Girls generally needed more, anyway. It was my specialty, and my helping them meant the people who usually checked on both could focus solely on the boys. I didn't really see it as being biased. I wouldn't get anything significant done in time if I divided my attention.

The girls present, or at least those awake, looked up at Hannah and me as we entered the room. Four of them were on the couch, asleep while sitting up. One was playing with a yoyo, two were eating from a box full of food that had been left in the center of the room, and the last two were sitting against the wall. None of them looked ragged, just dusty. They were bounds above what I'd seen yesterday.

Tch. And they said they did the best they could. I thought in annoyance.

"Hey." Madeline came from behind us and poked her head into the room. "I'm going to go ahead and help in the other room. You guys can handle here, right?"

"Yeah."

"Of course," I confirmed. If I'd fixed the room yesterday by myself, this shouldn't have been much harder. Madeline headed back to the other room while Hannah and me introduced ourselves and said we were there to help them. The reply today was more spirited: a few of them waved and said hi. I smiled when they did. These girls were lucky.

Our first goal was to make sure all the girls had appropriate places to sleep; the couch wasn't going to do. Like yesterday, blankets and pillows were sought for that purpose. And like yesterday, there was a scarcity. The lieutenant on this floor, despite appearing smarter about the matter, wouldn't bother with the effort of contacting the other floors. That meant either Hannah or I would go to the other floors to ask while the other stayed to clean the room.

We'd covered twelve floors between the two of us before we had enough materials to make beds for all of them. While it was a victory for us, I couldn't help but think of the implications. I was taking blankets that otherwise would be used for patients or maybe even other kids. Even if I was helping these girls, I was painfully aware that it was through taking from a stock of supplies already too low to go around already.

We contributed some effort to the boys' room as well, mostly fetching supplies for Madeline to use. I'd taken a chance to look into the room on one such run, and found it wasn't all that different from the situation with the girls. There was a big difference in their response; the boys were a lot more lively compared to how subdued the girls had been. And, if the mess was any indication, there'd been a fight over the food. They still needed help, but it reinforced my earlier belief that the girls needed it more.

After all that work, which only took an hour, I was thinking about playing or talking to some of them, trying to keep their spirits up. I thought they would've wanted some interaction and assurance from someone they could trust. I was wrong. As soon as we made the make-shift beds for them, they'd all been eager to use them. The only talking we did was when they were thanking us for preparing them.

It was perhaps the one similarity between this room and the room I'd cared for yesterday: the occupants all wanted to sleep. No sooner had we gotten all the girls settled were they all asleep and the room quiet. The two of us just stood on one side of the room, admiring our work. They looked so peaceful and happy now... I hoped it lasted for them.

"Well, if you like kids so much, how come you don't have any?" Hannah asked me. I glared at her, not really comfortable with someone randomly questioning my personal beliefs. Having kids was a goal of mine, but it was far-off into the future.

"I will, eventually," I answered, "but I'm far too young. I haven't even finished college yet."

"Too young?" Hannah asked, her voice laced with skepticism. I scowled at her ignorance. Sure, girls could have children at earlier ages than ours—many did in this day and age, unfortunately. I doubted their parenting abilities, though. Having a kid, as Father once said, was a huge investment. Unlike business investments, there wasn't anything much in the way of material returns. Sure, there will always be the satisfaction every parent had that went along with raising a child, but satisfaction wouldn't feed you or your family. He sounded like a cold fish when I remembered him saying that, but he wasn't; he was a good father to me, but he never let his ideals get in his way too much.

"My mother didn't have me until she was thirty," I informed her. My parents had gotten together in high school, got separated, and then through several twists and turns again found and married each other, but they spent the first decade of their married life building up a considerable business empire before having me. "She had a home, a stable income, and her affairs in order before I came. My child should experience the same." I sniffed. I wanted a lot of things, but working towards all of them at once would only result in me not getting any of them.

"Oh." Hannah didn't seem all that interested in my explanation. "I just thought rich families got married, settled down and had children as soon as possible." Was she really going to judge me from now on based on my origins? How unsurprisingly crude. "Your mother sounds like a good parent, though." My annoyance faded at her compliment.

"She is, and a wonderful woman besides," I added. I couldn't quite explain why, but I'd been completely attached to my mother most of my childhood, and I only became a bit more independent when I was eleven. Perhaps the only time we were separated from each other was when I was at school, or sleeping. She'd taught me a lot of things about being a woman, like how to act during social occasions, how to eat at a formal dinner, how to dance and flirt (we shared our giggles, but Mother said it was necessary; feminine charms could be a weapon as deadly as an air-to-air missile, if only subtler), and countless other things I owed her for. I always wanted to be like her, and still did even if it was a bit of a contradiction.

Perhaps it was because she and Father were treated as rich but vulgar upstarts by the old-money Rubinelle families that dominated the country (a shameful leftover from the days of the monarchy, if you ask me). Regardless, she never fit the standards she set for me or always acted the way she'd taught me to do. Certainly in public she acted as a member of the social and business elite was expected to, but at home she was a more casual person and didn't find much pleasure in activities indulged upon by the old-money families, like fox-hunting and throwing lavish parties every other week or so.

In fact, a favorite activity of hers had been camping. Not modern convenience camping, where there was a toilet bloc, showers near the campground, a grill spot, and a designated tent area. Her idea of camping was to take a few supplies and a tent to places where civilization was sparse or non-existent. She'd taken me on three such yearly trips when I was between seven and ten. I fondly remembered those instances, even if I found the conditions spartan on hindsight. I never questioned her on it, or on the many things she did. She lived how she wanted to and had always let me live how I wanted to. She was a great person to me, and I wanted to be like her.

"Huh." Hannah shrugged. "Do you take after your father too?"

"Of course," I nodded. My relationship with my father had been very different, though. I'd grown up in the period directly after the war. Any industry figures got really rich during that time (Father was spared of the draft because of his connections.), and they were always busy. Even if my father had spent a lot of his earnings on making sure I got the best childhood I could, he was absent for long periods of time when I was growing up. Even as I got older, he was still busy managing all his properties and investments. Nevertheless, I loved and respected him. He hadn't had much to teach me, but he'd always encouraged me to succeed and was always pleased to see me on my own. Even if my parents had been skeptical of my current career choices, he'd been glad to see how I was doing something unique and personal.

"So, what about you?" I returned the question. "How come you decided to help?"

"Hmm." Hannah thought for a moment. "I wasn't as lucky as you. My dad left when I was little and my mom and I weren't very close."

"Oh," I said, realizing I might've sounded rude earlier. Before I could apologize, she went on.

"I had to get a few odd jobs to help out, including babysitting," she explained. "A lot of them were brats, but I kind of liked it. I mean," she added quickly, "I don't intend to have any of my own. Being fat, moody, and constipated for nine months is a red flag for me. Something like this, though—I don't mind."

"That's… Nice," I said, blinking. My opinion of her probably increased a little just then. Hard work is respectable from anyone. I'd never assumed a background like that though, since she acted like someone who never grew up. Strange.

Our little conversation was interrupted by a light tap on the door, and we glanced into the small hallway to see Madeline poking her head in. "Hey, guys? You should come out here and hear this."

Curious, the two of us got up and walked into the hallway to see what she was talking about. There was an Army soldier standing there with her. It wasn't an unusual sight, except that this one had a camera. He was definitely not a combat personnel.

"Can we help you?" I asked politely.

"I'm Sergeant Damien, a press photographer for the Army." Despite the military rank, he did a civilian greeting and shook our hands. "I was wondering if I could get a few pictures. It'll really help us in our outreach efforts."

Propaganda, I realized. I disdained it; it skewed people's thoughts and motivations, affected society, and were more often than not completely baseless and false. On second thought, though… I didn't mind the idea of publicity, especially doing something like this. These were the ways political candidates showed themselves to the world. Even if my goal was out of reach now, I thought ahead: this could pay off later in my life. Besides, I guess I should contribute to the cause. The military was the only one keeping order right now, and people needed some sort of leadership. The brutish approach to handling supplies was necessary, but not popular. This would present a much more positive image. We let him get his pictures.

After that, we decided the rooms were as good as they were going to get, and we wanted to switch floors. But, I had one more thing to take care of first.

I'd intended to go and visit the children I helped yesterday before I even reached the hospital. I just wanted to see that they were still okay and that no one had undone all my hard work. I thought it would be good for their mental health as well, seeing someone who cared about them. As soon as things were manageable in this room, I mentioned it to the others and asked them to go ahead without me.

Madeline was still accompanying me though, partly because she wanted to see my work and mostly because of safety concerns. The whole time we'd been here, she insisted we use a buddy system whenever we left the room. She'd actually gotten into a small argument with Hannah earlier because she'd gone off to the hallway lavatory with a few of the girls while the two of us had been getting some supplies. I'd been slightly annoyed she'd left the rest of the girls alone, but I figured Madeline was being overly cautious again. I wasn't naïve; I knew very well the hazards that were usually present. They were a fairly common occurrence in the armed forces, though mostly in the other branches. The military treated each case severely, for fear of hurting recruitment, but it never managed to stop the incidents. Given the circumstances, I didn't think we were at any serious risk.

"So, they just gave you a room full of kids on your first day?" Madeline asked after I explained to her why I was coming back down.

"Yes," I confirmed. "I wish I could say it was because I had experience... but I admit they probably would've accepted anyone."

"That isn't very safe," she said, and I nodded in agreement. Safety seemed to be both a priority and a luxury now, depending on where you observed.

"There." I pointed to the supply closet ahead of us when we reached the floor. I expected a reaction out of Madeline, and I noticed her mouth agape with horror. Considering the situation in the other rooms, it appeared barbaric. Strangely, I didn't find myself as angry about the fact as I had been yesterday, probably because I knew I'd fixed at least part of it. There hadn't been many positive feelings since the world had changed so drastically. But the look of joyful surprise I saw on everyone's faces when I walked into the room certainly made one of those instances. A chorus of 'Hi' greeted me, and a few actually jumped up to hug me. It was a greater reaction than I could have expected. They must've been so tired yesterday, but today they were full of life.

Madeline glanced around the room while I was trying to return their hugs. "You did this all by yourself?" she asked, looking at the makeshift beds the girls had been resting in before we came.

"Yes," I confirmed. "They were in much worse shape down here, but I managed to make things more bearable." I glanced down at a familiar little girl clinging to my leg. "Hello, Kaitlynn." I smiled. "Are you feeling better today?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Why'd you come visit us?" Another girl asked.

"I came to visit," I explained. "I just wanted to see all your faces and make sure you were doing—

I was cut off when the hospital's PA system crackled to life. There was a pause before someone read out a message. "This is an announcement concerning all Rubinelle Navy and Marine Corps personnel." The voice paused, and the hospital went silent. "All personnel are to report back to their posts as soon as possible, although no later than six hours. That is all." The PA system went silent, and after a moment everyone in the hospital resumed their work.

"You think the fleet's deploying?" Madeline asked. To the best of my knowledge, there hadn't been any orders or plans to leave port, but I couldn't expect to know if there really were any.

"So it sounds." I frowned when I realized how upset all the girls seemed when they realized that my visit was being cut so painfully short. I doubted Kaitlynn could understand what had been said, but she clung to my leg even so. "Hey." I lifted her up and looked at the others. "This is where we're based. I'll be back, and I promise I'll come and visit when I do." By then they would've been moved somewhere safe or more hopefully reunited with their families. Right now I was trying to assure them that I would visit again if I could find them.

"Don't worry," I told them. "I will always come back here. I promise."

The girls seemed a bit cheerful after that, and after a few more hugs, the three of us left. As we boarded the transport that would take us back to the carrier, I remembered their faces when they heard the announcement. Somehow, my promise sounded hollow in my head. Something big was afoot, and it would take more than just my time, time that I could have spent doing something more productive. Why couldn't the world stay the way it was?