It was twenty minutes before the lunch hour when Corporal Fel Andar had decided to travel over to the infirmary. First Lieutenant Major Corla Javat was in charge of medical operations; with Second Lieutenant Marshal Rygel Par filling in for her in the times she had to fill in for Lieutenant Hol as espionage instructor when the usual substitute wasn't able to.
Therefore he stood outside the thick, metal doors of the critical care unit. Standing back as the doors slid open.
"…that it was just the bottom half of her right leg, and that we were able to save the left wing," Corla spoke as she stepped out of the room. Watching as she shrugged and then pulled off her white lab jacket and handed it to the person she was with. "Alright, I will be signing off for lunch. Don't bother me unless there's a significant change in her condition."
"How's Commander Thal doing?" Fel had asked Corla.
"Compared to when the medics started working on her, better," Corla answered as they began walking down the corridors. "She should be back to duty in a few days. How is the espionage wing going?'
Fel answers with a chuckle. "The same. What else?"
It wasn't that Fel Andar hated working the espionage wing. He liked cataloguing what the intelligence operatives had gathered on their missions. However, it was tedious. Even if he had done some intelligence work, it was to assist some higher up on a mission. He was at a rank where they could send him on his own or the only other accompanying operative for a high stakes mission. There was the thought that he might not be able to with his diluted blood.
He was just as good as the rest of them, and by Polaris, he wanted to prove it to them.
"Maybe you and I can swap for a day," Corla had offered. Those lovely sea green eyes of hers gazing into his. "Not that I hate being the chief medical officer. You make sure one stays alive after a nasty battle, but espionage does seem to have some appeal. One gets to see the universe. Learn new things."
"Dangerous, too, if one is not careful," he reminds her. "Make one mistake, and it will cost Thanagar."
"Hey, I learned enough to fill in for Lieutenant Hol for espionage instruction when she's absent." Corla jabs his chest with her finger. "I mean, I can't imagine filling in for her for a prolonged period of time. Those are big shoes to fill."
Fel frowned at the thought of her comparing herself to some Downside trash. Who only ascended the ranks from riding on Corla's coattails when most insects like her die like the animals they are in their first battles.
However, as much as he wanted to vocalize his thoughts, he wasn't going to get anywhere by bad mouthing her friend. Otherwise, she'd still gaze at Commander Talak's direction every so often.
Even if he wasn't what her parents would want, Corla deserved better than to still be hung over her ex who tossed her for Downside garbage. By Kalmoran, Jarl vocalized to him that Commander Talak was too good to be with a woman.
Perhaps inviting her to his bed…to breakfast for the third time won't be such a bad idea.
Shayera and Hro had found it difficult to disentangle themselves and dressing into their hunting gear. They both lugged their hunting bags, but Hro decided to carry both of them. Something was up, but she decided to worry about it later.
In Aloria, the popular hunting spot for couples like them was an island called Lover's Haven. Also known as Beginning of Promises. The latter because some couples get Promised there. A location that, when she'd think about it later on, Hro had selected this hunting spot. Even if it was surrounded by water.
Shayera heard him trying to breathe evenly and trying hard not to swallow rapidly. Hro was afraid of water as much as she feared small spaces. The Gordanians waterboarded him repeatedly during his time in the prison camp.
The island wasn't too far from where they were staying. There was an wooded area that was home to a abundant population of nar'ok elk. Upon landing, they were the only ones there.
The two of them moving further inland. Away from the water, and towards their destination. Holding up their blaster rifles as they walked through the trees. Making sure not to make a sound. Keeping track of any noise near them.
Avoiding the use of their wings to not startle their prey.
It was a hit and miss with nar'ok elk. There were days you wouldn't see any and there were days where there was a abundance of them. All of it depended on the time window one was able to set foot on this moon.
"There's a herd, right there," Hro whispers when the pair spot a small herd of elk not far from where they were standing. "You want to make the first shot?"
Shayera stood still. Making sure her wings didn't so much make a flutter as she zoned in on her target. Still and silent like in the times she'd collect information behind enemy lines in the beginning of her days as an intelligence operative.
At the first elk, they left a beacon after stringing it up. That way the drones can locate it and take the elk to be harvested of it's meat, antlers, or any other attributes.
The pair might have trekked for maybe an hour and a half to two hours. Sometimes encountering hits and misses. Sometimes managing to shoot an elk or two.
The sun was at it's highest point when the two of them decided to sit down for a few minutes. Mainly for a quick bite to eat before resuming the hunt again.
"We didn't use our wings and I'm ready to eat my sandwich." Shayera digs around her hunting bag for the sandwich container. Barely aware of Hro's expectant glance as she feels something in her bag.
Raising an eyebrow at the square, compact, wooden object until she pulls it out.
Shayera blinked, making sure she wasn't hallucinating. Her heartbeat racing, insides fluttering as she registered what she was holding. She had seen this innocuous, looking box before at Promising Ceremonies she'd attend as a guest.
Even as she tentatively lifted up the top, she shook her head in disbelief at the sight of the round, white orbs inside.
"Shayera Hol, will you be my Promised One?"
For four days, to say that Xemer Lelkae was in a foul mood was an understatement.
He was livid. Even as he sat in his office in the High Council spire, gazing at the list of candidates for these seven scout missions.
Xemer was quite baffled when the contract he and Province Councilor Javat Pom signed was rejected. Apparently, his grandson had already signed a Promise contract. As he has done in the past, when he wanted something, he used his position to view the contract.
Seeing Administrator Thal Porvis' signature in one of the fields had given him everything that Xemer needed to know. He didn't need to see the name of the other party to fully comprehend what his grandson had done.
"Your grandson is very stubborn, Xemer," fellow High Councilor Therian Andar had told him. "It was bound to happen, and it would be idiotic to believe that he would be the only one of his upbringing to make such a decision."
"Except I would expect he'd know better," Xemer pointed out. "Know better than to Promise himself to someone hailing from the Downside. Her rank doesn't hide that detail."
It was a good match his grandson had with Corla Javat. One that Xemer hoped to rekindle to turn him away from that Downside-born coattail rider. A relationship that Hro carelessly threw away for said woman. Who had gotten as far as she because of the connections she made.
Not only a Downsider, but one who is the product of an illicit relationship Andar Pul had with Thal Porvis' only daughter when she was a cadet. Which had caused a huge scandal even when the masses were none the wiser who he had engaged in a relationship with. And it seemed that his grandson was tempting another scandal with the person whose existence nearly had the son of his friend lose his rank that he worked so hard to achieve at the time.
Xemer had ordered his subordinates that as soon as his grandson returned to Thanagar, that they were to inform him that his presence – whether it was in person or vid-communication – was needed as soon as possible. When that day came, Hro had chosen the former.
Xemer gazing up from his tablet as soon as his grandson strode into his office.
"My lord," he addressed to him curtly and formally.
"Commander Talak," he answered in kind. "Imagine my surprise when the Promise contract I signed with Javat Pom was rejected. Only to see you had made one with Administrator Thal Porvis involving that ward of his."
"Lieutenant Hol has worked alongside me for years," he stubbornly maintained. "I see no reason to see to it that our relationship wouldn't culminate into a Uniting Ceremony."
"Wouldn't First Lieutenant Major Corla Javat also qualify as someone has worked alongside you?" Xemer pointed out. "Someone, who, even as a woman, is more deserving of the First Lieutenant bracket your girlfriend holds. It was a good relationship you had, and you threw that away in favor of this…abomination of a relationship."
"What Lieutenant Javat and I had was in the past," his grandson maintained. "A couple years before Lieutenant Hol and I began taking our relationship a step further. It's not a slight to Corla Javat, however, I feel a Promise between Lieutenant Hol and I is more viable."
"In spite of your detached language, it is quite clear you are sentimental to Lieutenant Hol," Xemer challenged. "A feeling that clouds us from our better judgement. Which I believed cost your mother's life in battle. Which is why Commander Hol chooses to visit his recovering wife in the Armada's infirmary every few hours when we have a high stakes war going on, and I see it is rubbing off on you, Hro."
He watched his grandson closely. The young man swallowing visibly as his eyes flashed.
"I am capable of separating my personal feelings from my duty, grandfather," Hro hissed. A trace of anger in his tone that threatened to spill over if he wasn't containing it.
"Your Thanagar's sake, I would hope so," he vocalized. "You may go."
"Yes, grandfather." His grandson inclined his head before leaving the room. Seeming to be in no hurry to stay by his brisk walking.
"This generation will be the death of us," Xemer muttered as he turned back to his tablet to gaze at the list of potential scouts. After much discussion, it was decided that there'll be two scouts for each planet. Even if sending one was safer, it wouldn't be worth the risk of having that one scout be compromised. Even if they sent them off to the respective planets under false pretenses.
And one of the candidates for one of these missions was the very chief intelligence officer and espionage instructor Hro had the gall to Promise himself to.
If she is a lot like her mother as he suspects, he hopes that whatever she does, might cheapen whatever value his grandson thinks she has.
Shayera was certain the spring in her step was noticeable as she walked towards the lifts to her floor in the espionage wing. Half of the people in the corridors stopping to look, and of course she could hear the whispers.
"…was he thinking?"
"…getting really tiring of them…"
"…he'd have high standards then…"
She sighed. Of course, not all of them were going to be happy. Even if Thal Porvis became her guardian and introduced her to the ways of aristocratic life, there were those who still saw her as the soldier hailing in the Downside. That she didn't earn her rank.
Those born in the Downside who do manage to survive their battles have a harder time ascending the ranks. Tarkoll and Phyla were her class, and they still wore the red of the sergeants, privates, and common soldiers. Women weren't even able to ascend the ranks until Admiral Samoth Pom fought her way up.
Shayera forced a painful swallow as she approached the lift. Clenching her free hand as she allowed people to exit first. She hated traveling in these things. Especially ones already carrying passengers. It was years ago when a building collapsed on her; practically buried alive and nearly suffocated before the rest of her squadron got to her. That day felt like yesterday, and ever since then she was afraid of close-in spaces.
Here on Thanagar, one had to face their fears head on and pretend they didn't exist in order to survive.
There was no one in here currently, and as the door closed. Her tablet pinged and Shayera lifted it up to see a new message on the dashboard. The sender swelling her irritation.
I am due to lead a strike squad exercise for the next two days. I am hoping you don't mind checking in with the Wingmen Corps this afternoon whenever you have time. There could be something that would require your expertise – First Lieutenant Corporal J. Kragger.
Even if he phrased it like a request, Shayera knew better. This was a test on his part. Something he always did as she ascended the ranks. As if he was trying to find a reason why she didn't earn the rank she did.
He was still sore after she humiliated him in front of his friends back in her first year in the Academy (not like he didn't deserve it. He was going to blind Tarkoll with cleaning solution) when he was in his second phase of training. And he seemed sore that she – a woman and raised Downsider – ascended to one bracket higher than him in the ranks. Though it could be also the way she seen him gaze at Hro when he's not looking. That longing, wistfulness that she'd see in Corla's eyes when she gazes at Hro's direction.
If Hro could have any man of his choice, it would probably be with her stepfather. Even if the idea of it made it awkward.
She only had the morning for espionage sessions. This morning's students being seasoned soldiers who were assigned to the unit. Then she had to go to the databank to check with the two Corporals managing the department on the information they were cataloguing. She could fit a visit to the Downside this afternoon before dinner break.
The air cleared when she left the elevator to her floor. However, that irritation came back when stepping into the observation bay, her usual companion wasn't there.
"Corporal Andar," she greeted tightly. "Mind if I ask where Corporal Sove is?"
"There was something they needed his help with something in the databank," he answered curtly. His tone made it clear that he did not want to be here. "So, you are stuck with me for this part of the morning."
"Terrific," Shayera answered, making sure the sarcasm was dripping in her tone. Approaching the observation window and sounding the buzzer to get the attention of her students. "This is the same exercise as before," she announces. "By now, you all should know enough to get by without step-by-step instruction. Proceed to your starting points."
She leaves the window and pretends not to notice Corporal Andar's curious gaze. "Nice earrings, Lieutenant. Who's the lucky guy?"
Shayera snorted. "As if you haven't been paying attention, Corporal."
"Well, then congratulations, Lieutenant," Corporal Andar replied with the same amount of sarcasm. "You know, it's not every day that someone like Commander Talak can bag a Downside-bred soldier just as yourself."
"As if that will deflect from your own blemishes," Shayera pointed out. "You might not be Downside, but I know it is worse to have what others call diluted blood."
Shayera knew it was a low blow. To throw his half-human heritage in his face. Not that he was any better bringing up her heritage.
Corporal Andar's eyes flashed, and she could see him clenching his hands as if he was trying to stop himself from strangling her with them. "I am just as strong as the lot of you," he hissed. "Don't you ever throw my parentage in my face again, or we'll have serious problems."
"Then don't throw my upbringing in my face and we'll be even," Shayera bits back as she presses the button to begin the session.
For the rest of the period, she and her cousin don't share a word. Which was probably for the best. Though, throughout the passing hours, Shayera had found herself removing that Kalmoran pendant from under her the top of her armor. The white figurine still maintains its glint after the seventy years she had it.
Shayera blinks away the tears as she thinks about the man who had given to her. Years after her departure from the Downside, she heard that Crespa had gotten himself mixed in with weapons racketeering and he had died during a confrontation with the Wingmen. Years later, finding out that it was Byth Rok – the traitor who had sold their secrets to the Gordanians – that set him up as a patsy.
She had always kept it on her, even after her Academy days, to not only remind herself where she came from. But to help pull her through on difficult days, that Kalmoran prevailed despite his circumstances.
Shayera hid the pendant away as soon as she thought Corporal Andar was looking her way.
"How is Yera doing, Katar?" Hro had asked Katar as they sat with four of the five other Commanders in the conference room. Waiting for Admiral Pom to enter to kick off the meeting.
"Better than yesterday," Katar answered. "The medics say that Lieutenant Javat is thinking of ordering them to take her out of her induced coma today. That her brain should be healed enough from the trauma and surgery."
"That is a relief," Commander Pul Tano answered. "We can't afford being shorthanded of Commanders with you keeping vigil over your wife's bedside. With how the Gordanians are seeming to outnumber us."
"Hro, what is this business about you becoming Promised to my father's ward?" Porvis jumped in, as if trying to avoid trouble before a meeting. "I thought I heard that High Councilor Lelkae had you come to his office this morning. That he was rather upset about it."
"I was going to wait after the trip to Aloria to approach him on a contract," Hro began. "Except that my grandfather forced his hand to try to make a contract with Province Councilor Javat Pom."
"No offense, Talak, but certainly there were other options," Commander Tharnull Civ noted. "Yes, Lieutenant Hol is among the best, but with someone of your upbringing, they'll be those expecting for to…you know, become Promised with someone who grew up in the Upside such as yourself. Like Corla Javat or one of the Dul sisters."
Hro swallowed. Feeling the heat reaching the surface of his face as his feathers bristled. Even if he was aware of Katar's hand on his shoulder to prevent him from slugging Civ for his stupidity, he was doing everything in his power to refrain himself from flinging him across the room.
Even if he didn't have the restraint, he wouldn't be able to go through it anyway as the doors slid open. All of them were standing up in attention as Admiral Pom came into the room. Her steel gray eyes watching them appraisingly.
"Alright, men," she started, motioning them to sit down. "To not waste any time, we will get the ball rolling, shall we?"
"Well, we have been sitting here for five minutes, Admiral," Porvis spat, sneering out her title as if she didn't deserve it. "So, that would be wasting time, in your words.
Hro sighed, knowing what Corsar's moment of stupidity would earn him. Even if he could understand Porvis' irritation of having to answer to a woman, in the midst of a war such as this, to disrespect the Admiral was a red line no one dare should cross. Whether the Admiral in question was a man or woman. The other Commanders in the room were looking away from Porvis as the Admiral's wings flared from her back. Her steely gaze was sharper than the blade of a Nth metal sword as she put her hands on the table. Leaning towards Porvis to look at him in the eye.
"I apologize if waiting for a debriefing meeting for a high stakes war inconveniences you, Commander Corsar," she informs him in a sharp, low voice. As if she was cutting him in two. "If you are unsatisfied with the way I am running this Armada under the eyes of the Administration of Protection and the High Council, you might as well take off your helmet and forfeit your rank now."
Porvis says and does nothing. Only gazing at the Admiral blankly before nodding.
"First off, for Talak, Civ, and Tano, you will receive notices this evening on intelligence missions you will send your subordinates to," she began. "During which time, you'll receive information on the subordinates – chosen by the High Council – selected and where they will go."
Hro couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Usually, it was either his or Shay's job for these assignments. If the High Council is the one making these decisions, the stakes must be very high for them to do so. And it didn't help that lately, they've been barely scrapping by on the battlefield.
"Second, to Hol and Corsar," she started. "Recent after-action reports have suggested that everything is no better than they were months ago."
"Even with another Commander's unit with us in the larger scale formations, we barely have enough against our enemies," Katar had answered. "We were just barely making it when Yera showed up with her fleet."
For the next ten minutes they were throwing around ideas to see if they could even out with their enemies. In a way that wasn't stretching out their forces thin and leave Thanagar unprotected. Though Hro had a feeling that it was going to get to that point where Thanagar will be virtually unprotected and vulnerable to a Gordanian assault.
If one had been told in the early days that they be at a point where the Gordanians were outnumbering them, the answer they'll get would be a laugh in the face.
"We can utilize some numbers from mechanics, engineering, medicine, and from the Wingmen Corps," Katar suggested.
He exhaled. What he will suggest will not make Katar happy. But this was a war where sometimes personal feelings needed to be compartmentalized if one wants the best for themselves and their planet.
"Not just that. How about enlisting Off-worlders for the frontlines?" Hro suggested. "It will ease on the casualties that way."
As expected, Katar had appeared as if he swallowed something sour. Though he didn't appear surprised either. The other Commanders had gazed at each other with Dokir Lian gazing at the Admiral for her input. Even if they never vocalized any dissent, it would be stupid of him to assume that maybe they don't like the idea enlisting those who'd usually provide free labor in the Upside.
"Very well, Hol, Talak," Admiral Pom. "I will take your suggestions into strong consideration. Moving forward, let's coordinate our ground offensive."
Of course, this was one of those time pockets in this war where most of the battles will be small in scale. Giving them some more room for rebuilding some of their numbers.
In the end, Dokir Lian was assigned to have his fleet begin to mobilize tomorrow so they can leave the following morning. With Porvis being assigned to be on standby in case Dokir has a similar situation that led Katar to call for Yera's fleet. "However, I suggest the rest of you coordinate with your First Liutenants as well. In case the Gordanian battalion Lian faces would require two additional fleets instead of one," Admiral Pom adds as if in thought.
Groups of his soldiers were in small scale battles at the moment while Kragger was conducting an exercise. Unless those squadrons returned home by the time Kragger's exercise was done, they too be scrapping by. He'd have to call off the exercise if he wanted to coordinate a meeting with his First Lieutenants as soon as tomorrow. Even the chief medical officer.
Katar didn't speak to him or even look at him as they were dismissed. As much as he should let it bother him, he wasn't going to. In war, it always comes to the choice of their own and others. That there are times where personal feelings don't matter.
Though his grandfather would think that was not enough.
The Thanaldar district of the Downside looked just as the same as she left it. Though the Kalmoran statue in the square had appeared more withered and aged from the weather and elements.
The Wingmen Corps outpost was not too hard to find. Their insignia of the hawk's head visible as she approached the building. Opening the doors, she could see the gray-metallic clad Wingmen stand in attention as she entered the building. Captain Tofar Dann was still gazing at his tablet for a moment before looking up.
She could imagine his eyebrow raised under his winged helmet as he asked, "Why are you here instead of Lieutenant Kragger?"
"He is currently conducting a military exercise in the Thalrassa district of the Downside," she answered. "So, he asked me to come in his place."
Shayera would rather much not be doing his work and having to undergo these tests of his. Though she wasn't going to pretend that spite was a motivator to undergo these so-called tests just to piss him off that he wouldn't get the ammunition that he craves.
"Anything we need to be made aware of?" she asked formally.
"I was wondering if you can help us get a lead on this 'Shadowlord,' Captain Dann had relayed. "He even has Lieutenant Kragger stumped."
"Shadowlord?" Shayera asked.
The Wingmen captain nods. "We know he is conducting some illegal operation here in this district of the Downside. But we can't guess as to what. Even his associates refuse to say his name. All we can come up with is this Shadowlord is from Upside."
Shayera could see why they came to that conclusion. The traitor Byth Rok ran a drugs and weapons racket while he was selling their secrets to the Gordanians on the side.
"I'll see what I can find," she answers. "I won't make any promises that I'll find anything viable tonight."
With that, she departs the Wingmen Outpost and flies around the area. She makes sure to pass the Children's Home where she spent most of the seven years of her childhood before being collected for training. It seemed to look more depressing than it did the last time she saw it. The roof patched as if to prevent it from caving in. She might pay a visit sometime to see how Valeorin and her daughters were doing.
She must have covered ten blocks three times when she sees something catch her eye. Like two people meeting for one of those clandestine exchanges she'd get a glimpse of as a kid. Curious, she lands on a building and turns on her cloaking device as she witnesses the exchange take place.
Watching as a wingless courier hands a metallic briefcase to a reptilian offworlder. Who hands him a sack of whatever is in there. As they walk away, Shayera follows the one with the briefcase.
Perhaps this would provide them with the lead the Wingmen are hoping for.
"Hommy's back, Mr. Katar. He made the trade."
"Welcome back, Hommy." Katar rises from his desk as he greets his associate. "No trouble?"
"No troubles, Mr. Shadow-Man." Hommy pushes the briefcase towards him. "Hommy jammy in. Hommy jammy out. Everything very jim-spiffy."
"Take this down to the lab and check it for trackers, Klynt. Looks clean, but we'd better make sure."
If this was the medicine they asked for, at least one weight would lift off his shoulders as he appraised the briefcase. This should be the medicine they needed for their clinic. To help Treska and baby nightshade. At least he didn't need to think about what his friend suggested at this morning's meeting. Hro always seemed to have one foot in and one foot out when it came to the Downside.
Though Katar was surprised they hadn't sent Off-Worlders to the hotzone decades ago.
He takes out a Marks card and hands it to Hommy. "Here you go, Hommy, and run."
"I'll take that case, Commander Hol," a voice sounded from the window. One that he placed with his friend's current nesting partner and the daughter Yera had with Andar Pul.
Confirmed when he sees her climbing through the window, pointing a blaster pistol at them.