A comforting arm around his shoulder, that of Calla, as he wiped away the tears. A couple more listened from afar, two of the family that owned the restaurant. The scene that played out here ages ago and yet redacted from historical record. Things they didn't know, but as far as the others were concerned their lips are staying sealed.
"No more…no more…on that point." He finally managed to get out. Her death was always the hardest to bring up…and yet he worried he may have to reveal this all over again to the cadets later on. Something he dreaded deep down as he finished off his glass of liquor in one large gulp. "I…I'd rather not talk about what happened while we were still there."
Rub respectfully paused the recording as Corr could no longer maintain his composure. The pain of loss, no matter the time, place, or species, was universally felt. Time was said to heal all wounds, but some wounds were so horrendously grievous and deep-running not even decades could fully mend them. Everyone at the table understood loss and knew it well, unfortunately.
Thankfully, the diner was mostly vacant. The lunch crowd had come and went, hours passed since the retired Commander began his painful trip down memory lane. Not much of a scene was made and Calla was quick to console her mate.
"I'm certain your after-action reports vill suffice to fill in the blanks for them." Rub reasoned, acknowledging the irken's wishes. "You may still disagree vith me to this day, but vhat you and your team did that day is nothing short of miraculous vith the hand of fate you vere dealt."
"Wouldn't have made it if not for your cousin and her team," Corr admitted. He really owed Tha and the others his life that night, and those of the others. "When we went back to our lines…the only one who even paid us the remotest bit of sympathy for our loss was the General. I could see some sort of regret in his eyes, like he thought his plan got Volx killed. The others of Zha's staff immediately wanted to set us up as heroes. Like we had done the impossible…if only they knew the half of it."
"Had the roles been reversed and it as a team of Federation holdouts, they vould have been made legends," the aged Colonel observed, "I'm sure it vas after that day if any doubt remained among you about the path you vere taking vas made clear."
Calla, consolingly rubbing Corr's shoulder, sighed.
"It's never easy…losing those close to you. Something we all share in common."
"Pain is a universal language and ve are all fluent." Rub mused.
"Yes…yes it was…and we are." The Irken sighed as one of the two listening in poured him some more liquor when he was about to ask for it. "Thank you. Sorry about what happened to your place ages ago."
"It was beyond your control. We're just happy to have it back and running." One of the two, the daughter, replied.
Corr smiled at her before taking a swig of his glass. "You know what was the worst part? They couldn't even spare us a vehicle."
"Really?" Jur questioned, "Even with all you been through?"
"Unsurprising." Rub scoffed. "I still distinctly remember Troopers and Elites stepping over their fallen vithout a second thought. The likes of Grimm led me to believe the higher the rank, the colder they vere vhen it came to casualties."
"On the norm, that's true. General Vaukt was a major exception to the rule and High Marshal Zha tended to be an exemption as well." Corr sighed as he pushed the events of the more immediate aftermath of Volx's death out of his mind. "Amka helped us out once the armor swept by and mopped up, found a working open top cargo truck that was in decent working order. Snipers followed us on the scout car Kazak and Gers got their hands on…and that's how we got back to our HQ…and the High Marshal was waiting for us with the General."
Another sunrise graced Tallum and Vort abroad. What had been clear skies the evening prior became a living nightmare. Light struggled to pierce the black haze of countless fires raging unchecked throughout the city. Intense fighting through the night wrought destruction and devastation upon the Federation's final holdout. The VDF remnants and their civilian militia support were, at last, broken by the Empire. The Imperial banner waved over the citadel at the city's center as sporadic engagements continued throughout the city as Trooper and Elite units mopped up remaining resistance bold enough to stand their ground for a lost cause.
High Marshal Zha's plan, with General Vaukt's advice and Major General Saro's assessments, had been a resounding success. The phasic barrier, defiant for months and steadfast in keeping them at bay, finally fell, and the torrential flood of Irken soldiers poured through the breach. A tidal wave of green, backed by a storm of steel, smashed through the overtaxed and anemic defenses the Vortians could muster. Combined precision strikes from the skies and artillery abroad reduced their defensive capabilities to naught.
On this day, victory had finally been ascertained. A grueling, bloody campaign of frustration and attrition was coming to a close against the Empire's nearest peer adversary. Their homeworld had fell beneath their might, their morale crushed, and one step closer to complete subjugation in service of their superiors.
Not everyone found their success worthy of celebration. Chief among them was none other than the spearhead of the offensive that set into motion the eventual fall of Tallum. Both Red and Purple Team, now able to see unabated with the sun rising, the intensity of battle and its aftermath. Entire city blocks reduced to ash and rubble with nothing but husks of structures left standing. Some simply ceased to exist, their molten, smoldering craters adding to the thick blanket shrouding the city.
Silence enveloped them all as the battered transport struggled to roll along over rubble and damage to the street alike. They were pushed past their limits physically, mentally, and psychologically. Not a single one among them was without the mark of battle. Compromised armor, damaged gear, uniforms reduced to tattered shreds. A dozen close-calls written into each with protruding grenade shrapnel, singed holes burned clean through overcoats, carbon scorring aplenty. Dark, discolored spots of dried bloodstains graced some.
Chief among them was Rem. Their pilot and navigator…or what remained of her. Her defiance to greet death was something to behold…but that obstinate left her something less than what she once was. Her litter lay in the back of the truck, unconscious, and under constant observation by an exhausted Sula and Zutel. Posa, reluctantly, was forced to rest herself with her own wounds.
Beside her was another. Unlike Rem, this one was not so fortunate to escape the nightmare they endured the evening prior. Volx's corpse, covered with a tarp, remained motionless beneath. Haxx, eyes aflame from grieving tears, only looked on at her form distantly.
Either side of the truck, the bench seats were lined with the rest save for Aero, who was at the wheel with Corr and Vult in the cab. There was no conversation. No discussion. No celebration. They had won! They survived…mostly. This meant they would never return to Vort to fight again. The Empire was victorious and their conventional forces were beyond qualified to handle the stubborn holdouts. It was over.
Sula, taking another interval of Rem's vitals to ensure she was stable and hold out long enough to get proper care, looked over to the Demolitions Expert and his cauterized, amputated legs.
"How you holding up, Rha?" She tiredly queried him. "Need anything?"
"Unless you got a new set of legs layin' around…" Rha commented, trying to remain somewhat upbeat before shaking his head. "I just want a fucking drink, preferably the whole bottle."
"Will you shut the fuck up?!" Haxx glared at him. "This isn't funny!"
Rha simply blinked but decided to keep his mouth shut to prevent any further provocation of the grieving Sergeant.
The snipers followed behind the truck in their scout vehicle. They had fared better than the others but there was also no sense of jubilation from their own vehicle. A victory, but a hollow one, feeling more a defeat than anything.
Zutel filled her canteen cup with water and added a Vortian drink mix, their ground coffee but in an instant form. She sloshed the mixture around before taking a drink and offering it to Sula, seeing how the other medic would also need all the energy they could muster for the several rounds of surgeries they were bound to perform.
She gladly accepted the canteen, even if its contents were gritty and bitter. Anything to stave off passing out from sheer exhaustion a little while longer. Once they were off-world, back on the ship, and the wounded tended to…then she could rest.
"Sula?" Aero hesitantly beckoned, getting the Medical Officer's attention.
"Yes, Aero?"
The normally-cheerful, bubbly woman was nowhere to be found. Only an equally crushed spirit and haggard, somber gaze. Her blazing carnation pink eyes seemed several shades darkened.
"...is Rem going to make it?"
Her tired goldenrod gaze drifted back to her unconscious patient. She appeared almost like a mummy with an obscene amount of bloodstained rolled gauze wrapped about her person. Splints, braces, and a myriad of other devices kept her body rigid to not risk further internal damage from crushed and broken bones.
"...I don't know. She's hurt bad. Sooner we're back to the ship, the better."
"Should call the shuttle down, get everything of ours, and clear out of here, fast." Zutel added in, "Or at least get us medics up to the ship with her first."
"Safe to assume the latter. We don't have time to pack up and move out…can't leave this rock fast enough." She morbidly concluded.
As the battered truck and scout car rolled along, a seemingly never-ending column of Troopers marched into Tallum past them. A sea of fresh, green faces eager to serve. They were often confused at the hard glares they got from any unfortunate enough to lock eyes with the vehicle's passengers.
"Aero." Vult beckoned.
"Sir?"
"Pick up the pace. Rem doesn't have the luxury of time." He ordered, gesturing forward before turning around to open the back glass of the cab. "Everyone hold on back there, it's going to get bumpy. Sula?"
"Sir?"
"Soon as we stop, I want you, Zutel, and Posa on triage. The three of you, Rem, and Rha, back to the ship, double time. Vard?"
"Sir?"
"Get our dropship down here, ASAP. I want it waiting on us when we pull up to the restaurant."
"On it, Commander." The short-statured male obliged, taking out one of his dataslates to remotely connect to the vessel in question.
Vult turned back around in his seat as the suspension struggled to navigate the terrain as Aero shifted gears and accelerated. Everyone did their best to hang on and make due with the rougher conditions. Sula and Zutel ensured Rem remained stable in the bed while Hesa made certain Rha wasn't going to fall off the bench seat with his lack of legs to stabilize himself.
"Captain." The blue-eyed male addressed his distant second. "Corr, look at me."
"It's all my fault…" Corr spoke, softly, distant. "It's all my fault."
"Stop." Vult curtly interrupted, wary of his volume despite the bouncing vehicle rumbling along. "...we can talk about it later. I need you tuned in and focused. They need you. Now more than ever. We can't make a scene, not in front of all of them." He nodded out the cracked windshield to the regulars they were driving by, inferring them in general and those they would be around back behind friendly lines. "Stick with it until we're back on the ship. Can you do that?"
Corr looked briefly to the back of the truck to Haxx before turning to Vult. "You didn't see the venom in his eyes for me. I'm certain if I even speak to him now he'll lash out."
"All the more reason why you need to stay focused and have a presence of leadership. I'll take care of Haxx, but I still need help holding this all together…the shock of it all hasn't worn off yet. It's only going to get worse."
Corr gulped, giving himself a couple of smacks across the face, literally smacking some sense into himself. "...I'll try." He reached into a pouch and withdrew the device Tha gave him earlier. "Whatever's in this. I hope it's worth it. She mentioned coordinates for something here, maybe we can send the snipers out to get it."
The closer the truck grew to familiar territory, the more open the road became. It appeared the Empire was quickly getting to work cleaning up the immediate damage to facilitate logistics and troop movements more efficiently. The cleared thoroughfares allowed Aero a smoother ride and higher speed…even if it meant weaving around battle-damaged vehicles returning for repairs and narrowly avoiding the occasional straggler.
Ever the expert behind the wheel, she navigated the obstacles with ease, even if the occupants held on for dear life at the risk of being thrown from their seats or the truck itself with the rapid changes in direction. One final turn placed them back on the avenue leading up to the restaurant and hotel they called home for the past several weeks. As commanded, their own familiar dropship sat across the street on the makeshift landing pad, hovering and awaiting their arrival.
It wasn't the only thing waiting for their return.
A cadre of familiar vehicles was parked out front of the restaurant. As the truck screeched to a halt and everyone quickly dismounted with Vult's issued orders to be fulfilled, the familiar faces of General Vaukt and High Marshal Zha could be seen, conversing with one another. Their arrival garnered the pair's attention.
Vaukt was about to give them a warm welcome home until he saw their condition. The medics and their patient heading right past him. Posa suffered a serious wound to her face, their patient on a litter and firmly stabilized, between his favored surgeon and her understudy. Aero carried their demolitions specialist with his legs missing from just above the knee. Vaukt's eyes immediately betrayed some pang of guilt as he took off his helmet.
Vult followed after the flurry of activity at a slower gait as he approached his superior officer. Helmet secured at his hip, exhaustion etched into his features clad in grime and filth, uniform barely a step above shredded scraps, he still snapped to attention with a salute.
"High Marshal Zha, General Vaukt."
Zha had a similar reaction to Vaukt. More a stunned shock at the sight before her. The comms chatter in the command center and real-time updates throughout the night…to see the aftermath in-person painted an entirely different picture. She had expected beaming pride and an outpouring of confidence and bravado at overcoming impossibly insurmountable odds. She didn't see that. Only a unit of men and women ran through a grinding gauntlet of pain and misery limping home. They carried themselves as if they were the ones that had lost and were forced to withdraw.
"Commander Vult," She returned his salute, her tone cordial. "...the General and I wanted to come down here to personally congratulate you on a job well done and overcoming adversity in the field…I see it was not without sacrifice."
"No Ma'am, it was not," Vult, almost monotone, responded. "General Vaukt will have our after-action reports once we have tended to our wounds and managed our dead. Lieutenant Volx was KIA."
The High Marshal's brow furrowed in confusion at the Commander's response.
"Manage your dead? What do you mean by that, Commander?"
It took every ounce of self-control Vult possessed to not lay into Zha's callousness. He was tired, hungry, and well past the point of politeness and understanding as he fell back into a semi-autonomous state to keep his temper in check.
"Recover classified equipment from her body, pay our respects, see her off, in that order, High Marshal."
"Take all the time you need," Vaukt spoke, his tone more solemn. Deaths of those under his command always hit him in some fashion. He hated losing men. "You're cleared to leave Vort, I'll contact you later." He looked to Zha, "We really should leave them to this." His own eyes glanced at Corr talking to the snipers in the other vehicle as they reviewed something on a datapad. They still potentially had something to tend to. Not to mention that he wanted to give the team their space.
High Marshal Zha wasn't dense. She saw the brewing animosity in Vult's azure gaze. His robotic response only further solidified her safe assumptions. She gave a small sigh, removing her peaked cap to wipe her brow with her sleeve before replacing it squarely back on her head.
"...for what it is worth, Commander, it was not in vain. The stalemate was broken and Vort now belongs to the Empire. All thanks to your team's diligence and tenacity against overwhelming odds. You have accomplished in a matter of days what was locked at a standstill for months. I can safely say you and your team are among the best soldiers I have ever had the honor of working with."
Vult's intensity remained constant as Zha spoke. She was praising him on a job well done. Compliments and success rewarded. The highest honor bestowed upon a soldier was to receive praise from their superiors, especially that of a High Marshal.
He was indifferent. Numb…and a touch resentful.
"Was it worth it?"
"I'm…sorry?"
"Taking Tallum, High Marshal. The men and women you sent to their deaths. Was it worth it?" Vult daringly spoke.
Vaukt let out a frustrated sigh. Rather than take the hint, Zha went on when he would've handled it differently. Typical regulars…
The High Marshal blinked. She was no stranger to malicious compliance from her peers or the occasional passive-aggressive comment. Expected in stressful environments such as a command center ever-adapting to changing conditions in the field…but to be questioned directly by a subordinate to her face was new…and extremely bold of the short Commander standing before her.
Corr, on the other hand, saw the impending scene and quickly ran over. "Commander, sir," he injected himself into the situation to try and divert attention away from what would have been something extremely foolish. "The snipers are asking if they have your permission to pursue the lead we discovered and return to base with their findings."
"One moment, Captain." Zha spoke, gesturing to the man before turning her attention back to Vult. "Commander, I realize you just returned from the field after a harrowing ordeal, but you feel it appropriate to return vitriol to my glowing review of your performance?"
"Permission to speak freely, Ma'am?"
"Of course."
"Your praise is salt in open wounds and you can shove it up your c'hurta, High Marshal." Vult unceremoniously spoke. His temper did not flare, his voice did not raise. Brutal, pragmatic honesty.
Vaukt himself had just about had it at this point. He had to do it himself. "Captain, have the snipers do what they were going to do."
"Right away, General." Corr replied as he went back to give Kazak and the others the clearance to go ahead and retrieve his datapad.
"Commander, go tend to your men, they need you now." Vaukt seemed to urge him to walk away from this, giving him an out.
Vult took the hint. Vaukt's tone and expression made it clear he was already past a line that shouldn't have been crossed and not to trifle further. Better judgement came through for the Commander. He snapped another salute.
"Yes, Sir." He obliged, turning about-face to leave.
"Commander." High Marshal Zha beckoned, much to his dismay.
Rather than turn to face her, he stood in place, looking over his shoulder at her. As good as she was going to get beneath the circumstances. Not that she could blame him.
"...your question…of it being worth it. No. It wasn't worth it. I will not make excuses or spread blame to my predecessor. I am as much at fault and bathe in the same blood. I did what I could to mitigate it, but what was gained was not worth the mountain of dead Irken it cost."
Rather than respond verbally after listening to Zha's humility, he only gave a nod of understanding before continuing to take his leave with Corr at his flank.
The snipers drove off, bound for whatever it is Corr said they were after. Vaukt, meanwhile, donned his helmet once more before walking off on his own, withdrawing a cigarette and lighting it. He had men he needed to see to himself yet still.
Zha stood there, mildly dumbfounded at what transpired. Multiple subordinate officers before her just…walked off. No explanation, no request for dismissal, just…gone. Vult, she understood and left sleeping slorrbeasts lie. The Captain mildly surprised her…but Vaukt left her stunned.
Shaking from her stupor, the High Marshal moved to catch up to him. Her body language and demeanor didn't show signs of aggression or offense…more confusion than anything. She slowed once she caught up with Vaukt.
"...is this the part where you tell me I said the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person?" She unceremoniously spoke to the General. "Not…accustomed to soldiers telling me to shove my praise up my c'hurta…"
A very frustrated sigh escaped the General along with the smoke he inhaled. "Yes, you absolutely did. I would never say what you said to a team that came back looking like that. I'd see whatever they needed and get it." Being in the field constantly gave him a far different understanding compared to being cooped up in a command bunker all the time. "You think that's the least of it? Be like me, that'll be the least of what you hear in the field."
"Suppose that could have been seen as callous of me," She sighed in realization of Vaukt's words. "I was being genuine and meant well…but words of encouragement don't make up for what they went through."
A humorless huff and shake of her head followed.
"...maybe I am more like Grimm than I want to admit after all."
"You're a reg," Vaukt plainly said. "What I am, what I do, what they do? We're a completely different breed." He paused to take another drag of his smoke. "Part of it may also be that I stay with my men, share the same risks and privations, risk my own life. Bleed alongside them even. They seem to admire that trait about me."
Zha listened as the General went on to elaborate further. An explanation of the separation of worlds. Of her own familiarity and what he contended with in Special Operations. He always had been an eccentric sort, different from their colleagues, but this was eye-opening.
"...while I'm in a command bunker, far away from danger," She concluded verbally. "...I received a report that Marshal Vetra was killed. Artillery barrage obliterated her position…I sent her to her death…because she was annoying me."
That self-realization twisted her visage into a mask of self-contempt.
"...I'm no different than the rest of them."
"I was also extremely restless and feeling helpless in that bunker…I'd rather have been out there." He paused and shook his head, "If it means anything, do remember I offered to crack her skull for you. I didn't much like her either."
"I wasn't fond of her, but that doesn't warrant death, either. I sent a competent officer to her demise out of petty spite…and I am going to be showered in praise by the Tallest and hailed a hero on Irk for ending this forsaken campaign," The High Marshal countered, shaking her head with a weary sigh with a rub of tired eyes. "...Think I now understand why he spoke to me the way he did a little more now. I'm an idiot for not realizing it sooner."
"I'll get none of it, of course," Vaukt huffed, throwing his cigarette aside. "Nor will Vetra or Volx be remembered by anyone other than those who knew them."
The opportunity for a more lighthearted take and attempt to change the subject was quickly squashed as he went on about the recently-deceased. Both officers, both capable at their station…and both gone by the decisions of others with nothing but a wrecked world and resisting people to show for it.
"...I'll remember…and so will you." Zha admitted, turning her attention back to him. "...I was going to say that you didn't strike me as the type to seek praise…but I can give you some if you like."
"I prefer the quiet accolades of coming back alive and the respect of my men." Always the simple man of the front. "All I know is I need more research and development for my best troops. Need some sort of power armor to go against…whatever the blazes these Vortians made."
"I see my attempt at humor fell flat on its face. Perhaps that is why I'm a soldier and not a comedian," She huffed with a pursed expression. "...and I happen to know a High Marshal coming fresh off of a major victory that is bound to carry weight and clout with her name that could potentially help you get whatever you need for your men."
"That's where you're different from Grimm. You're willing to assist me. He'd tell me to go eat a grenade." He countered her previous point.
"To be fair, Vaukt…you did antagonize him. A lot." Zha pointed out casually with a bemused huff.
"He deserved it and I wanted an excuse to do something about it." Definitely no love lost for the Supreme Commander. "Needless to say my men and I would appreciate the help if we can develop some fine armor thanks to you."
"Whether he deserves it or not is not for me to decide," The High Marshal politically side-stepped agreeing with Vaukt…but she didn't say "no", either.
She paused, placing hand to the man's shoulder to bring him to a stop to face her.
"It would be criminal of me not to help Special Operations after what has transpired here. You made this possible. You and Major General Saro both contributed to the success here greatly. Whatever you have in mind, present a proposal in writing to me and I will give it my seal of approval…assuming it is worth approving, of course. I won't inadvertently sign off on a vacation home for you."
"If I want a vacation I'll just disappear for a week with some hairbrained excuse of a mission and come back from the woods somewhere." Vaukt shook his head, "Really, a vacation home? What do I look like, some pompous government official from Irk?" He stopped from his own attempt at humor, "You'll have it once I formulate requirements in my head."
"Perhaps I could come up with such an assignment and accompany you to avoid the spotlight from all of this," She gestured around the, implying Vort as a whole. "Wait, I know…we find someone else to conquer the next world and I become old news. It's the perfect plan."
"You're taking an interest in me that my field side would see as extremely suspicious." He looked to the ruined city beyond, "Someone does need to organize the occupation here until those forces arrive. Let some other General have Vylat. We'll likely be bound for Orenk, but it'll give my men plenty of time to recover."
"Suspicious?" Zha reiterated, her brow arching at his commentary. "Are you implying there is a reason for me to be suspicious…or do I intimidate you, General?"
Her tone was far from serious.
"It's quite…odd is all. You regs always sneer at people like me."
She laughed.
"Yes, I am going to sneer with contempt at the man who is responsible for my success in this campaign. I would say I'm offended to be included with that group…but I am guilty of much of the same…minus the disdain for plebians such as yourself." She snarkily commented with a small snicker. "...I have nothing but the utmost respect for you, Vaukt. When was the last time your superior officer came to you for advice?"
"Never. Much to their demise or failure." He paused, "I really need to see to the rest of my teams. They're expecting me to come check on them as I always do."
"Of course. I have after action reports to review and my own to compile for Grimm," She sighed, annoyed at the prospect. "...stop by my quarters when you have your proposal ready for review…or whenever, really. My door's open."
He nodded before heading off again. Someone who finally saw what they were worth. Already in his mind he was trying to fit together a new set of armor for his best, and most loyal, of men. Long term planning on several levels. He was looking forward to it if he could get it. Yet there was also that aching feeling from before…
That…weird way she acted around him. It happened outside her command center. He lost himself then and yet, there it is again, here, at perhaps the least opportune time. What was it with her and this odd way she was around him? Maybe one of the Commander's unit had some better insight given their circumstances. Yet another thing he'd have to look into when he didn't have other things to tend to. A break from operations was something to look forward to…