War Stories

Chapter III: Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

Having been given the map of the training facility as part of his orientation materials, Welkin navigated his way along the labyrinth of hallways and corridors that would lead him to his office. He still couldn't believe it. Not only was he named lieutenant of Squad 7, but had been given his own office to conduct his squad related business.

It had seemed that since the fall of Bruhl, everything was happening too quickly for him to compartmentalize, and this was one more brick to fall upon the ever-teetering tower of responsibility that threatened to tumble at the slightest provocation, the weight of which seemed ready to bury the young man.

Still, this was his job now; not that he wanted it. Had the Empire left Gallia alone, had they never gotten greedy for the bountiful stores of ragnite within its borders, Welkin would be starting his senior year at university and preparing to ready his career.

But no, that dream was presently put on hold for more pressing matters, such as protecting his home and people who live within its borders.

Shelving those thoughts aside, he found himself facing the designated door of his office, and twisting the doorknob and walking over the threshold, his eyes surveyed his surrounding. A bookshelf, much like Captain Varrot's stood barren against one wall, while a functional, if not uncomfortable looking couch was positioned against the opposite wall. In the center of the room, a pair of windows framing the piece of furniture, was an oaken desk, plain and ordinary in its functionality.

He supposed this was the way it was in the military, nothing fancy, nothing decorative, just base functionality. As he further moved into the room, his eyes settled upon the couch and the folded uniform that awaited him. This final article acted as an invitation for his new life, and he knew there was nothing more to be done.

Securing the lock on his his office door, he moved to the sofa and proceeded to remove his clothing, changing his reflective clothing from that of a civilian to a militia military man. The transition felt awkward and not at all natural, yet Welkin turned towards the mirror hung upon the wall and studied himself.

Had he not known it was him, he would have not even recognized his own reflection. This was not the direction he had ever wanted his life to go, and yet here he was, garbed in the uniform of a Gallian militia man, preparing to enter a war his country had never instigated.

For the briefest of moments he could not help but wonder how his beloved homeland would look when this war was over.

Heaving a sigh, he moved to exit his office, intent on touring the base and familiarizing himself with the facility, only to be stopped by Alicia on the other side, her hand poised to knock upon his door. As the two stared at each other awkwardly, unsure in that moment of impromptu meeting what to say, Welkin offered a wane smile.

"Oh, hello Alicia, was there something you needed?"

Adjusting the parcel in her arms, she offered a quick salute. "Uh, yes Lieutenant Gunther, Captain Varrot sent me to deliver the recruitment files for you to review to make up your squad."

'Lieutenant', the title created a stoic shift in the young man as his face visibly shifted from one of happy reunion at coming face to face with a comrade he had come to respect a great deal over their travels that past two weeks as they made their way to the capital, to barely restrained sadness at the forced distance she put between them due to their rank. "Oh, of course," he said, stepping aside to allow Alicia to enter his office, "You can put them on the desk."

Following his directions, Alicia walked further into the room and set the box of manila envelops upon his desk before taking the time to survey the barren walls and empty shelves. The office seemed so unlike Welkin that it was easy for the sergeant to feel the sense of burden upon the young man's shoulders. "If I may sir, the uniform looks good on you," she said in an effort to ease his mind, yet as he seemed to draw further into himself, she realized this may not have been what he needed to hear.

"Thanks," he said hollowly as his eyes studied his arms that were bedecked with the fabric of the Gallian military. "It's...uh...heavier than I thought."

Opening her mouth to explain the Kevlar weaving and sheeted metal interwoven within the fabric, she stopped herself upon looking at him and realizing the physical weight was not at all what he was referring to. Dropping her gaze, she looked at the rug placed before the desk, not sure how to respond beyond the simple, "Yeah," that escaped her lips.

Hearing the closing of the office door, she looked up to watch the young man move to stand beside her as he leaned against the desk. "Hey Alicia, do you think you could do me a favor? Could you just call me Welkin?"

"A-are you sure?" she asked, her head turning to face him, while his attention was still fixed upon the far wall. Over the past two weeks she had seen this expression many times, his eyes piercing the distance as if gauging the probable options their course would take, all the while hiding his inner fears of being overtaken by the Imperial Army that was closing on their heels. As she had come to understand, it was an expression he fixed upon his face when he did not want others to know how scared he was.

"Yeah," she said simply, still not turning to face her but warring with himself the emotions he tried to restrain. "Remember, do you remember telling me about the scarf you wear, how its a symbol of your life as a baker? Well...I don't know to risk losing who I am in this war," at this he turned his head towards her, his eyes softening in the moment, his guarded expression falling away to reveal how truly overwhelmed he felt by all of this. "So, can you just call me Welkin? Please?"

At this moment, it was Alicia's turn to look away. She wasn't sure if she could handle the intensity in his eyes at the request he made. On one hand, she fully understood the need to keep your identity. The combat within Bruhl was proof that in the heat of conflict, it was easy to lose yourself, and that was one fear both she and Welkin shared. It was, after all, the reason she still wore her scarf marking her status as a baker. She wanted to remember the reason she was doing all of this. For Welkin, it was no different.

And yet, her hesitation was born from the understanding that this was the military. Duty and rank held a significant station within their time here, and she did not want anyone to think she was being too familiar with her commanding officer, especially not in front of their squad.

She took that moment to risk a glance at the young man and felt her hesitation crumble. Standing beside her was not a military commander, not a squad leader, not an officer in the Gallian military, but a young man desperately wanting to get back to his studies, to get back to the subjects he was so passionate about and wanting to pursue his career as a teacher.

All of his dreams and desires for his future now resided at that end of the barrel of a gun, and just one look told her he wasn't sure if those dreams would be worth the cost it would take to see them through. She knew exactly what he felt because it was the same weight she endured the moment the military jacket settled upon her shoulders. But she was not an apprentice baker no more than he was a university student pursuing his career; they were soldiers, and this was their life now.

"How about this," she began, breaking the silence that had settled uneasily upon them. "Behind this door, or when its just the two of, I'll still call you Welkin, but when we're with the squad, when we're addressing the troops, I'll address you as Lieutenant Gunther. Will that work?"

Considering the thought for a moment, a small, almost hopeful smile settled upon his features as he accepted the compromise. "Sounds good. Thank you Alicia."

"Of course," she offered her own smile and for the moment the pair were lost in the bond that they had forged since the day they met in Bruhl just over two weeks ago. It was in that moment Alicia came to not only understand but appreciate her role in Squad 7. She would be here to support Welkin, to encourage and offer that shoulder to lean on when he needed it. Placing her hand on his forearm and offering a supportive squeeze, she made to leave before he called her name.

"Hey Alicia, do you want to give me a hand sorting through these files?" He asked, his attention drawn towards the box of recruits he would need to sort through to assemble his squad.

Furrowing her brow, she pursed her lips, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'd like your input."

And so, having agreed, the pair sat on opposite sided of the desk and worked their way through the files. Naturally the squad would look like no other unit in the militia, or even in the whole of the army for that matter, because Welkin's priority was not combat proficiency or military aptitude but rather the secondary skill set of each recruit.

This became obvious when his first selection was Juno Coren. As he pushed the file across the desk for Alicia's approval, the first reaction the young woman had was jealousy. Unlike Juno's flowing golden locks and piercing blue eyes, she felt an unusual surge of insecurity about her own mousy brown hair and hazel eyes that made her feel insignificant and plain by comparison. It wasn't that Alicia was concerned about her own looks, far from it, but Juno's recruitment photo was so stunning that she could not help but feel the inkling of jealousy as she looked upon it, wondering even, if this was the type of girl Welkin liked.

She wasn't even sure why that thought came to her mind, or the words that slipped past her lips as she said, "She's pretty," in response to the file, as though gauging Welkin's reaction as to why he wished to select her for his squad.

"Huh?" the young man said, his eyes looking up from the current file he studied before settling them upon the picture. He knew Juno's face well enough, everyone at his school knew it. She was easily the most sought after girl in the pursuit of romantic interests, yet he never considered the notion much beyond understanding that she was indeed extremely attractive, yet most failed to appreciate her brilliance. "I suppose she is, but this is why I think she would be good for the squad," he responded, tapping his finger on the secondary skills part of the file.

Following his finger upon the form, she narrowed her eyes as though not understanding his interest in this recruit. "Micro...biology?"

"Exactly, I don't just want to fill our squad with people who's only interest is combat. I want to find people with skills that might be useful in the field. I know Juno from university, some of our classes overlap, and she's brilliant in microbiology. Who knows, we might come across an illness or infection in the field that she'll know how to treat.

"Look, here's another one," he said, giving her another file, this one belonging to Coby Caird. A veteran of the First Europan War, his age was certainly a liability, however knowing what had caught his eye on Juno's file, which had, thankfully, nothing to do with her looks, she noticed Coby's specialty qualified him as a master carpenter. "If we need to conduct demolition or clear debris, who better than a builder to see it through?"

"You realize he's sixty-five?"

Shrugging as if the issue wasn't a major concern, Welkin proceeded, "He's fit enough to pass the physical requirements to join the militia."

"And old enough to be a potential liability in the field."

"Then we won't use him in combat, we'll use him as a consultant when we need it..."

"At which point then, we're sacrificing one of our roster slots for a non-combatant."

Understanding dawning on the young man, he took the file back and placed it in a file designated 'maybe' and moved on. For the better part of the afternoon, the pair tore through the files, looking for insight and potential that might prove their value as part of Squad 7.

In the end they selected the best squad available, and then began breaking the squad into smaller units that would work to support each other. In the end, Coby would make the cut as the nineteenth member of the squad, but Welkin acknowledged his age and physical frailty might supersede his knowledge when it came to combat scenarios. Still, they both seemed relatively pleased by the team they had selected, and with the last recruit picked for their unit, Alicia began to gather the files and prepared to return to Captain Varrot with the recruitment orders.

"Hey Alicia, I just wanted to say thanks, for being here and helping me with, well...just thanks."

The statement caused her pause as she looked at him, lost for the moment in how unsettled he seemed about the whole scenario. She knew well enough to know the uneasiness within him was the knowledge that he was placed in charge of a unit where every decision would lead to the death of someone, either friend or foe, and that was a weight that was difficult to shoulder. But equally she was humbled by the understanding that he trusted her enough to show how vulnerable and scared he was about the whole scenario. It was the same fear she felt when dawning her own uniform.

Moving to stand before him, she rested her hand upon his shoulder and offered another supportive squeeze before sharing a hopeful if not uncertain smile.

"Always."