A note from the author: Just binged and finished 86 for the 3rd time in a row. Seriously underrated anime which deserves a lot more attention than it has right now. It's been a long stretch of boring months without a solid piece of anime which has captivated and motivated me to push out a fanfiction in a while. Just a heads up that I've only watched the anime and read the manga (whatever is available). Have not seen the light novels but plan to once I can locate a copy of them. IF there are those out there who are willing to impart some elements of lore that I may have overlooked and/or would benefit this fanfic, then please DM me.

Lastly, I thank you for your time and attention reading this work of fanfiction. Leave a like, a review, it'll go a long way to help me keep writing.

"See to it the manifest is fulfilled and delivered." I ordered the lieutenant squinting my eyes. "Intact."

I pause to emphasize what my point of an intact delivery meant, let it sink in, before continuing.

"I understand that things can get lost along the way, such is the world of military logistics, but as long as they are within my margin of expectations, I will look the other way."

"It will be done milady." The man bowed as his assistants lifted the crates onto trolleys before wheeling them away. "Oh, and before you go, do please put a good word in for me with your father. I'm sure you know but getting your trinkets to the frontlines on such short notice is quite a taxing challenge."

I chose not to answer his request, instead, I turned away leaving the pig behind in the wake of my overcoat. I moved with a sense of urgency, quickly picking up my pace from a stroll to a jog, breathing through only my mouth.

The place stank… it reeked of incenses and other varieties of pungent perfumes so overpowering to the nose, one could faint from the sensory overload. I would not be a surprised if a blindfolded civilian walked in and thought the warehouse was the perfume section of a department store. I only dared to imbibe air from my nose once more after I threw my coat into the trunk of my car and started the engine.

Shifting into first gear, I released the hand brake and rolled out of the parking lot at my own pace before joining the highway which would take me to my house; a half hour drive away.

The traffic on the Gardiner highway was surprisingly light as it took me through the heart of downtown despite the fact a major football game was going down at the Revolution Stadium. I glance at my wristwatch and realized the explanation to my observations.

"Damn…. Looks like I'll only have time for a shower and nap." I spoke to myself as I switched off from the highspeed lane and onto the rightmost, slowest lane.

Sighing, my body goes on autopilot as my thoughts wander into the events of the previous day.

A little over a month ago, when there a lull in the eastern theatre, I sent Schwarzes into the unknown region to look for them under the guise of a deep penetration recon mission. Getting the order up the brass's tight ass and having it approved wasn't hard. After all, my father… no, my family had the military's entire logistic network at our mercy. My mother jokes that we can end the careers of generals with the slash of a red pen. I didn't believe it at first but lately, I've seen how that can be a possibility.

While my older brothers and sisters used our authority and connections within the military logistic network to their advantage and saw to it that they rose in rank rapidly, I instead had opted to use my family's connections for a more…, subjectively, meaningful purpose.

My name is Circe Rossweisse. They call me Cue on the PARA-RAID. Among my peers I am known as the Goddess of Logistics. While the official description of my office is the oversee and maintain the entire logistical framework and every matter pertaining to supply within the Eastern theatre of operations, my career with the San Magnolian military has thrusted me into a position beyond what I get paid to do. As it had stood for the last 5 years, my secondary and unofficial job description is to act as the command-and-control officer of the 51st Tactical Response Battalion 'Huckebein'. Think of us as the people who more infamous units call in when shit gets thrown at the fan. We are Magnolia's one and only dedicated QRF unit.

The public knows my unit as the ravens of death or… the skull hunters, scrappers, the list goes on but… that propaganda is far from the truth. The battalion I lead is made up of boys, girls, and old men. I've given them everything I can get my hands on. Protect them with the finest suits of armor, kept them supplied, and put real food into their stomachs.

But no matter how hard I strive to maintain their logistic support and wellbeing, I cannot change the fact they are all, at the end of the day, frightened young children and scarred old men and women.

War is hell, war never changes. But… the way I see it is that if one had the opportunity to make the suffering anymore… even just a little bit less suffering, it is worth more than the eagle on my rank insignia let alone the peace and tranquility I enjoy in District 1.

Spotting exit 666, I signal and make my way off the highway hanging a right at the fork. I get a message from Schwarzes-1 'Hayes' as I pull into the parking garage.

Taking my keys out from the ignition, I press download on the images she sent me as I open the door and kick my heels off.

I microwave myself a bean burrito before settling down on my dining table and take a deep breath as a mentally prepared myself to see with my own eyes what had become of my Spartans. I feel a needle pierce into the center of my brain as their faces flash across my memory. It hurts… it hurts a lot. I close my eyes and feel my body curl into a ball as I tucked my head into my knees.

"Uurrrggghhh.." I moan as the needle burrowed into my thalamus accompanied by sharp explosions of pain originating in my stomach. I feel something begin to rise from the deepest parts of my belly which felt like blood.

"Maybe… I should leave this for tomorrow. I still have work to do early tomorrow morning and daddy wants me to report home…" I thought

"Don't send people to their deaths if you can't look at them with your own eyes" A voice spoke into my conscience.

I open my eyes to see the silhouette of Spartan squadron's leader: Chief, sitting across from me on the table.

"Spartans never die, we're only missing in action."

Right… some cheesy quote from a video game pre-dating the appearance of The Legion Chief always said to me. It was about how epic space warriors never fall to humanity's alien foe but rather can and will only disappear into the fog of war.

Before they set out on their final mission, they promised me they would show me what Spartans are made of. That I will only find their juggernauts and that if I ever wanted to see their faces again, I better go looking for them myself.

This piece of memory allowed me to unlock the door to at the back of my mind where I stored all my memories of my first unit.

Like Spearhead, Spartan squadron was an execution unit meant to do away with the veteran 86ers who were approaching the end of their 5-year enlistment. A cruel way to go given what they have done for us beyond the Gran Mar but at the same time… a blessing for someone like me who, at the time, was still oblivious to what was going on the other side of the wall.

I pick up my phone and tap on the first downloaded image. With a sigh of relief, my tension receded

They found them.

Not much was left but there was still enough brought back for me to burn. I scan every photo with heightened attention and as promised, there were no bodies for me to cremate. Just the hulks of destroyed juggernauts.

Satisfied, I type a thank you reply to Hayes and turned in for the night.

The next day, BlancNeige Palace

"I'm sorry to trouble you again Colonel Rossweisse." The general apologized as he poured my herbal tea.

"No, no, no, no! This isn't right!" I jump from my seat to swipe the teapot out of the general's hands but his grip on the handle was too tight for me to loosen without risking an awkward situation.

"It's alright general Karlstahl." I sigh as he topped up my cup before offering me my medicine. "Thank you."

We sat in silence and at the corner of my eye, I can see him observing my throat closely to make sure I drank all the contents of the cup.

"I heard you vomited your intestines out a few days ago." The general broke the silence as I wiped the corners of my mouth with a cloth. "It is the duty of an officer to keep themselves in good shape and serve as an inspiration to their subordinates. Circe, how many times has it happened already this month?"

"Only 3 times." I replied reaching for the packet of mints in my breast pocket. "Of the 3 times, they only had to call an ambulance once."

"Please take your medicine daily, Circe. It won't look good on me in the eyes of your father whenever he hears you wound up in the hospital due to your rampant stomach ulcers."

"I will" I replied almost instinctively.

No, likely I won't be drinking that bitter poop water for as long as I can. General Karlstahl's advice would fall on my deaf ears. An officer can't lead their subordinates unless they go through hardship and glory with them. My stomach ulcers, while treatable, I have decided to leave untouched both the fulfill that philosophy but also in silent protest against the treatment of the 86ers.

"Right, anyways. How may I help you today general?" I inquire.

The general takes a deep breath before sighing, producing a leather dossier and offers it to me.

"My niece would like some supplies be delivered to her unit."

I look at its contents and sigh myself as I was quickly reminded how dilapidated Spearhead squadron's logistic situation was.

"Does she know yet?" I whisper.

"No." The general closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose

"You should tell her now before she discovers the truth for herself."

"She's still young, naïve, and innocent. Yet to be scarred by the realities of our war against The Legion. I know that will change but I only wish for her to enjoy the remainder of her untainted years in its full duration."

I whip out my black pen and began crossing out parts I could not muster while underlining the contents of the list prepared by one Vladilena Milize which I could provide with my limited powers.

"Vladilena is an idealist, a pure hearted soul. She prides herself in her relentless struggle to help the 86ers gain recognition and their rights from before the war back. You cannot stop her, there is no need. Once she learned to truth for herself, her flame for change will burn itself out. I expect you to understand Colonel Rossweisse." He continued.

"Of course, general." I nod as I applied a few annotations to the list. "Kids are only precious until they become adults. Cherish every moment of it before maturity tarnishes the rose bud, it's what I overheard my father say to my mother before I was assigned to Spartan squadron.

"Hhhhmmm" The general nodded in agreement as he pushed my teacup towards me again.

I take the cup and try my best not to gag as I gulped the bitterly horrible liquid down my throat. My medicine was a whole lot like the warehouse I frequented to get supplies delivered to my battalion. Pungent and lovely at first sight and smell, but bitter and rotten when tasted with the tongue.

Such was the reality of our society, our military, and our leaders. Put on a good face to maintain a sense of normality but dump the undesirable realities into water, forget about it, and hope it doesn't come back to bite.

"Does it really taste that terrible?" The General asked continuing our conversation.

"Good medicine always tastes bitter." I replied wiping my mouth again with a towel. "General Karlstahl, is your niece a speaker or a doer?"

"A little bit of both but she tends to lean more towards being a speaker." The General chuckled as he reached for the pot to pour me another cup. "Just the other day she dropped a bombshell at the academy explaining to the recruits the nature of our war against the Legion. The 86ers, who really pilots the juggernauts, everything. If it hadn't been for my protection, she would be in a whole lot of hot water by now."

"I see." I tap my chin with the top of my pen. "Well, she better learn to shut up and start taking actions into her own hands before you retire. You can only protect her for so long after all. On top of that, actions are ten folds more effective than words and promises. I learned that myself the har…."

I paused seeing how the tangent I'd taken in the conversation would be meaningless in front of the general. His fire and zeal for reform having long been doused by the waters of bureaucracy and complacency.

Reviewing the modified list, a scroll down to the bottom of the page to apply my signature on top the dotted line before stamping my seal of approval beside it.

"I'll do what I can and add some of my signature touches to make things more bearable for her subordinates." I say, flicking a speck of my hair to the side. "As the matter of supplying the eastern theatre is a settled, technically, nothing will be delivered to the Spearhead Squadron. As far as everyone should know, a low flyover of transports planes practicing low-level flight will make a pass over their base next week. If the radar operators pick up anything on the screens indicating objects falling off these aircraft, tell them its birds. Birds and nothing more. See to it will you General? Also, most importantly, tell Vlad not to get use to my kindness."

"That'll be much appreciated Circe." Karlstahl smiled. "And yes. Prop blast can certainly cause birds to freak out in the middle of the night."

We both nod silently in agreement to the explanation. This wasn't the first time I've arranged the, off-the-record, paradrop of supplies to the frontline for General Stahl. He has thus far displayed a flawless and capable ability to hold up his end of the agreement. As such, I was not as concerned with getting chewed out for inappropriately allocating valuable resources 'desperate needed' elsewhere.

"Say, you've been a bird colonel for close to 5 years now, haven't you?" He points at my rank insignia.

"Yes." I chuckled, tapping the insignia on my collar. "I've sat on this nest for so long, you can say I can feel feathers sprouting out on my arms!"

"I have an offer for you Circe. I would like you to mentor my niece, see to that she is fully prepared for what she will face in her military career. How to handle loss and celebrate her triumphs, the whole shebang. And in exchange, an opening within my staff is due to make itself visible soon. I'll see to it that you're made a Lieutenant General by the end of next year."

I shake my head and wave both of my palms to decline the offer.

"As much as I appreciate the offer and your concern with my career General Karlstahl, a promotion is not necessary. I'm comfortable where I am, really, I am. Not to mention, the higher I go up, the more snobs and useless sloths I have to deal with which I no longer have the time nor youth for as I did when I arrived at my current posting left behind by the late general Milize."

"Ppsssht." The General scoffed. "You're only 25, what's this about lacking youth you're spouting out again."

"Ara ara…" I feel a vibration on my right wrist and pull my sleeve to reveal a blinking red dot on my watch. I made sure the general saw this as well.

I suppress the grin as I hear the clipping of heels and stomps of boots approaching my door from the corridor outside.

BOOM

The door to my office flew open and I look up to see my XO, Lt. Colonel Waldheim, throwing herself into the room.

"Rossweisse, things have changed, we're going live in five. Get that extra baggage out of here! Scrape it off the floor if you have to." She screamed in my face ignoring any sense of formalities despite seeing the general.

Following closely behind her, in streamed the rest of my command staff carrying their portable consoles and whatever food they could hold in their arms from the cafeteria for our 12-hour watch.

"General, thank you." I smile handing the dossier to my aide. "It has been a pleasure hosting you today."

I stand up and gesture to my XO to open the door for the General.

"The war effort needs you elsewhere and I have a battalion to command." I bow before gesturing to the door. "Now, you must go."

The General looks around him as my subordinates also rise to their feet and bows. He grunts before taking his cover from the table before heading to the door.

"Colonel Rossweisse." He breathes just before exiting into the corridor. "I may need to borrow your Aardvarks in the coming days. I will give you advance notice but take this heads up as a courtesy."

"I will strive to fulfill your requests General."

At the corner of my eye, I see Lt. Colonel Waldheim sticking her tongue out at the general as he passes her before she gently closes the door behind him.

The room was silent once more. My subordinates move quickly to reconfigure the room back into a Combat Information Centre (CIC). I take my seat at my desk and begin booting up my own console. As I waited for things to boot up, I reached into my drawer to retrieve my Para-Raid and a lotion I applied around my neck to prevent heat rash underneath the part of my neck my device would cover for the next 12 hours.

"Para-Raid initialize." I command, the device comes to life. "Establish a secured connection to Schweres Panzer Bataillon 51 combat information center."

Waldheim deposits today's menu (high priority sectors) on my desk and I reach for it before briefly skimming its contents. As the blackout curtains are lowered behind me and the white light in the room relaced with red, I eye each of my operation stations before drawing the go/no-go checklist.

"Huckebein combat controllers." I address the men and women as they took their seats in front of their consoles. "Give me a go/no go for combat operations. Navigation."

"Go." Walhdeim replied.

"Comms."

"Go."

"Medical."

"Go.."

"Recovery"

"Go"

"Air support"

"Yippee Kai yay bitches! We got Paveways lined up for today!" The new Lt. at the station excitedly jumped.

"…." I cleared my throat very clearly over the intercom. "Refrain from profanities while on the battle net. It gets the troops riled up thinking I got something shitty planned for the day."

"Oh.. Ok. Sorry!" The Lt. replied. "Go! We're GO GO GO!"

(….)

"All systems green and go." I declared finishing the list, reaching for, and taking a sip from my coffee mug.

"Comms, initiate link to combat assets."

"Morning Cue." Hayes' voice greets me on the other end. "I'm betting three shares of TSLA you're going to puke again before the end of shift."

"Oh? Well, I'll raise the bet to 10 shares of the same stock because I won't today." I replied with a smirk as my aide set a stack of three barf bags at my armrest.

Hayes laughs maniacally at my raise; I hear her making chicken scratch notes on her notepad before she continued.

"This is Captain Irisdina Eberbach reporting. Huckebein is ready and waiting. Standing by for our orders. Einsatzbereit frau kommandantin"

"Guten morgen, Huckebein." I replied. "The latest developments on the field are being downloaded to your panzers as we speak. As usual, CIC will brief and coordinate enroute."

"Verstehen"

I hear the engines of the Juggernauts roar to life on the other end, picturing my panzers come to life in my mind. I glance to my right where I stationed the combat medical information team to see the icons of every juggernaut turn green. I smile, feeling a rush of excitement one only gets at a high stakes' poker table erupt from my bosom.

"Schweres Panzer Bataillon 51, Huckebein. Viel glück." I muttered

"Panzer Vor."