Even with the idea of her going into the field with much less training than what is standard, months passed by with a crawl. Everyday passed with training under the General Dyson, and any of the teachers, who seemed to have no clue as of why she was being taught things beyond the experience of a 'newbie'. A divide passes between the teachers, other informants, and herself. Outside of lessons, glares were thrown to her and words were curt. Yet still, the general pulled her along, causing her to break gaze with them, and act as if she heard nothing. She was almost to the end...then she could prove herself to them.

Now, the night before she finds herself staring up at the dark ceiling. Her skin feels warm underneath the bandage she pushes against gently. The sun design, so presumably ordinary, is inked into her skin, and her identification can be reached by reveal, should she come across another officer on the field. It's miniscule, but when she withdraws her touch, it's as if there is a weight pressing down on her collarbone. To reassure herself there is not actually anything pressing against her chest, she takes a deep breath, allowing herself to give a long exhale as she relaxes her shoulders.

There have been many times in the past months where she wondered if she would ever wake from this dream. Yet every time she opened her eyes, she was still grounded in this reality. Now, even more like a fantasy, she would begin her mission. To take her mind off the pressure of a new reality the next day, she replays Dyson's debriefing in her head.

"The Renegade appeared after the Royal Army had begun to assimilate the city of Argon into the country. In his first sighting, he placed bombs within the statue of Clu, and as it blew up, he announced himself as Tron, the traitor we thought was dead. He has begun to win over the support of the civilians with his destructive activities. This terrorist has created his 'army', which now takes to reaching to Royal outposts and conducting raids, and even brought Tron out of hiding these past few months.

Your mission: you are to present yourself as a volunteer who had heard about the army through underground workings. Grow influence, grow close to the Renegade, and get him to reveal himself to you. When you know the Renegade's real identity, you will report to me. We will take over from there. Until that time, you will be on your own. Understand?"

She nods at her own thoughts, propping her arms behind her head.

"What happens after that?"

He shoots her a small smirk, as close as she will probably ever get from him, and returns to his notes. " Glory. You'll be regarded as a national hero."

The thought makes her smile as she turns onto her side. She manages a yawn and is finally able to close her eyes, forgetting only temporarily about the rest of the debrief, or she otherwise not rest as easy.

"However, if you fail, do not expect mercy from the rebels. The Renegade's ruthless; we have already lost many men to him. He has trained his soldiers to expect and give no mercy. Should you be discovered before you complete your mission, do not expect to see the next sunrise in one piece, let alone any type of glory."

The next morning seems to be there too quickly and within a few hours, she sits with her back to the steel wall. She turns to steal a glance outward, but can't see a thing over than the stark white of the snowy ground. Unsatisfied with her glance, she still turns back to stare at the floor, clutching her bag close.

"This is as far as we can take you." She looks up to see Dyson now standing in front of her, and sure enough, she can feel the ship lowering. She stands after the landing, where she and Dyson watch the door open.

"Ready?"

She glances to him, before averting again and nodding. He merely gives a stiff nod, before passing something small into her hand. She peers at it, before realizing she's supposed to loop it around her ear. He nods when her arm returns to her side.

"You know what to do, now." She starts at the sudden hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Dyson is watching her carefully, expression guarded. "Make your country proud."

She bows her head. "Yes sir, I will."

"Good. You have a trek ahead of you. You'll want to leave now if you want to get to Argon before noon, which will be ideal."

She nods again, and as he withdraws himself, she steps down the exit. The wind instantly greets her rudely as it whips around her, pulling at her hair. She forces herself to step outside of the field of danger near the ship, before turning back to watch it as it rises. She can no longer see Dyson, but nonetheless but it feels as if his gaze penetrates through the steel and into her, like always.

When the ship disappears into the sky, she sighs, turns, and begins the long trek towards the city within the wilderness, beyond enemy lines.