*DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA*

Smoke flashed.

Sekyo recoiled.

“Good lord…” He muttered, staring at the man holding the weapon.

The small group stood within a wide, long room with some targets in the distance behind a log separating the two different parts of the room; magic positions and magic range. Sekyo, wrinkled as he was, stood behind an elven soldier holding up a gun. In iron armour and with cloth wrapped around his arms and hands, he held up a gun marked ‘MINDEF’ in English; all of them, Kurai speakers as they were, paid no heed to the unfamiliar language.

“And… and you say that man had one of them? A - a common soldier?”

“That is what we would ascertain, yes; Lieutenant.”

“What army…” His eyes remained wide. “What army does he come from? Human, yes?”

Miru nodded. “Human, indeed, but he looks and speaks as if he comes from another dimension, Lieutenant.”

“Another dimension…?”

She handed several parchments to Sekyo, still enarmoured with the gun with the lime green finish. He continued to fire glances over towards the weapon.

“The documents… the documents may contain unfamiliar terms. Given his usage of them we believe he’s referring to some kind of mage-machinery.”

“...’ay-tee-vee’?”

“Amroured Transport Vehicle, he claimed. Interrogation gave us quite so many disorganised terms.”

“Fuelled by…” He read on. “...oil? Oil? That’s… that’s old… it’s been decades since they discovered how to make lasting heating with magic…”

“They did, sir?”

“Not a single elven west of the Sadre river has used oil in decades… it predates the Empire, even. Why would any civilisation use anything so inefficient… where did you place the capabilities of this… craft?” He muttered, stroking his fingers over the documents.

Miru took one of the papers from Sekyo’s hands before pointing it out. “Here, sir.”

“Thank you… very helpful, you are…” His voice trailed off as his mouth fell ajar. “This… this is nonsense, isn’t it? I thought this is to be relegated to the unconfirmed section?”

“No, sir, it isn’t.”

“Was that a call on your part, Miru, or do you have… proof? That you’ve discovered?”

She nodded. “It was a call on my part, sir.”

“May I ask why? This is incredulous, a craft that can travel at thirty krai an hour? That’s a fifth of the perimeter of the Sea of Phosfori. A journey you and I know…” Sekyo raised his hand indignantly, motioning to her to give him an answer.

“...takes, 11 days on foot, sir. Assuming the standards of imperial forces.”

“Indeed. What was your reasoning?”

“A gamble, sir. He comes from a place where they build weapons capable of ripping targets apart, taking down dozens of men in seconds, and you can hold them with ease? There’s a levity to his words given by such a contraption, sir, and we have to take the opportunity.”

Sekyo sighed, his brows furrowed. “Of course you’d talk about opportunity…”

“And, don’t forget sir, the aircraft we found last month. Surely some nation, some civilisation, had to create it?” She remarked.

Sekyo scratched his forehead before replying, “That… that is true… and that is why you’ve put those four slaves to work replicating it?”

“Indeed.”

He pursed his lips, looking again at the documents. Flipping through the white parchment he stared back at Miru. “This could change the course of history itself.”

Patting her on the back, he smiled. “Keep these derelictions of duty up... and I’ll have to put a good word in for you with the the committee to have you promoted. You’re not elven but you are a good commander - at least better than those poor sods making their way through officer’s school up north.”

Miru gave a slight smile as well. “I will, sir.”

He nodded, before motioning to the guards in the corner. “I’ll be off then. Good lord… Second Lieutenant, you have full authority to manage this programme, providing you give expedient report via dragon every two weeks.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” She saluted; Sekyo responded in kind as the guards followed him out of the room.

She smiled. She was on her way up.

“Ma’am?” Turning to see a soldier behind her, Miru’s smile quickly thinned out. “The main infantry force is ready to set out. Sekyo requested you give a speech to them.”

“I’ll get to it. What of the reconaissance forces?”

“On the very edge of the border. We have a full preliminary report you need to check before the sun hangs over the neighbouring mountain.”

She nodded to the soldier, before heading down the hallway. Men still marched in lines but they thinned out far more than they had previously; their comrades elsewhere preparing for battle. The floors lay stained with footprints everywhere, bloodstains accompanying them. A young slave collapsed in front of her but she simply walked around the ailing boy; the sound of kicking and yelping emerging from her back.

Arriving in front of a large platoon of men standing in formation she saluted Enako, who had already begun a speech.

“...I’m proud,” He remarked, “To address you as soldiers.”

“In the name of god I pledge that if you never return to your families you will enter the great graces of god and if you return you will have the greatest honors anyone in the Empire could be offered. Bringing civilisation to the barbarians in Otisk is a great triumph.”

Enako raised his fist into the air.

“To the lord!”

“To the lord!” The men bellowed.

Miru, watching from the side, saluted with a sense of pride.

The halls stood silent; the rotting smell on the dreary grey walls particularly pungent as they passed through, with only other slaves carrying the stink along as they groaned, hunching over, carrying sacks and boxes and swords with their scabbards covered in cloth.

Still the guard pushed Shirin on. Her hands tied, and a gag tied around her mouth, she groaned every single time the guard nudged her forward.

“Hey, have a little discretion will ya?”

“Sorry, bitch, I can’t hear you over the sound of your whining.” The guard remarked, slouching. Hearing a silent chuckle his fist jabbed Shirin in the back again. “Just a reminder that we burned that emblem on your back, we coulda done it again.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you could do it, and if your boss wasn’t reliant on me to get her weapon on track, I’m sure as hell you would already have.”

Jabbing her in the waist, the guard snickered. The thin hairs on his chin twisted as his pearly - or rather, yellowed and missing whites - showed for the brief moment she turned around before he pushed her forward again.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, you’re still a slave.”

Water dripped from the ceiling, a drop flying by her face as she slowly passed by. She remained non-belligerent, her stare focused on some imaginary object far in the distance; the guard himself not bothering to continue forcing her forward unless to make her change direction. He remained essentially silent; seemingly entirely disinterested.

As they approached the interrogation room, a pungent smell of iron penetrated the air; Shirin slightly sniffing it in. The guard groaned, muttering, “I swear to great god if that woman forces me onta cleaning duty for this entire ordeal…”

“Pff. What’d she just do, beat someone half to death for a - you fuckers would definitely do that, wouldn’t you?”

“One of those slaves taken from that stupid settlement of yours, I’m guessin’. Damn I hope it was an old man, it’s hard to clean up the parts of a woman or a child.” He muttered, before stepping through the door. “MA’AM!”

A hoarse voice asked, “Jomud? Who is it currently?”

“The report from, uh… the four slaves. The ones working on your weapon, I think.”

“...send him in.” Shirin could hear an audible sigh.

“It’s not the man, it’s the elven woman.”

“Her? Really?... ...send her in.”

The guard stepped back out of the doorframe, untying Shirin’s gag and shoving her into the room. Immediately she noticed the massive bloodstain on the wall to her right, a chair collapsed on its side with one of its legs splintered on the floor; to her left, Miru leaning on her chair with half-closed eyes and blood splatter across her face.

“...sit…”

“Wow. Um. I’ll leave you and your dead buddy alone for a bit, heh.” She remarked, strolling over to the table. “Can I sit or will I be instinctively murdered by your gaze?”

“Sit.”

Shirin raised the chair back up onto its feet and sitting down; it tilted towards the right, the leg right under her right thigh stumped. The back of the chair had a watery, almost slimy texture to it, latching to her skin and clothes; the incredibly thick smell an affront to her nose.

“Wow, um… some temper you got today?”

“Report.”

“Damn you are tired.”

“I said report…” Miru’s voice trailed off as she slumped over, resting on her hands; she slowly pulled out a small dagger from her trenchcoat and held it in her palm, flashing it.

Shirin gulped. “-whaddya want from the report?”

Miru’s cyan blue eyes looked up slightly. “...start with the state of the weapon? Have you completed the… ...the receiver?”

“Oh. Yeah. He insisted on finishing… ...internal mechanisms, but it’ll be done within the week.” Shirin paused. “How’s life?”

“What?” Miru blinked under the hazy white light emitted by the lantern; dim as it was, it shone light on her face and cast a shadow over Shirin’s.

“C’mon, how’s life?” She looked down at the floor, but her eyes themselves darted. Shifty.

“...when can you expect to have it finished?” Miru, with bags underneath her half-closed eyes, leaned back in her chair.

Shirin didn’t move, her eyes firmly fixed on the Korun sitting down before her. A sweat droplet slid down her neck. “Bad day?”

Miru smiled, wiping a bit of blood off her face.

“Bad day? No, it’s been… it’s been a beautiful day.” She rested her head on her arms; an uncharacteristically lackadaisical expression on her face.

“Long day, then.”

“...I don’t exactly see the point of this.”

“Everybody needs a break.” Shirin sat up, leaning in on the table. She looked up and down the room, a wry smile on her face. “And you… ma’am… seem to need it a lot.”

Miru stared intently at Shirin for a moment.

“Did you learn respect or…”

“...figured it was high time I gave you a bit of credit.” Shirin groaned.

“This day only gets better…” Miru muttered. “Yeah. It’s been quite a long day. Very - eventful - day.”

Shirin glanced away. “How’s… how’s everyone around you? Your - vice-commander - and that new arrival?”

“I couldn’t ask for a better group of comrades.”

“Hm.” Shirin continued to stare to the side, seemingly lost in thought. “That new arrival, really - doesn’t she get on your nerves?”

“Kari? No, not really. She’s a… she’s a particularly good… friend.”

“Friend.” Shirin repeated. “Not just a comrade?”

“She… she’s rather curt, but she’s an invaluable friend. Teaches me etiquette.”

A light lit up in Shirin’s eyes. “Etiquette? What’s so valuable about etiquette in… the military?”

“Well, I suppose it’d be excellent for interacting with other officers… and senior officers, of course.”

“Maybe that relationship’s... something more?”

Shirin leaned in on the table, getting ever so closer to Miru, who slowly retreated into her seat.

“I’ll bet she thinks better of you?”

“I’d hope - uhm-”

Grabbing Miru’s wrist, Shirin stared at her with a perfect smile so cold it became… fake. At once Miru pushed off Shirin’s hand and placed both her hands on her legs. “W-what are you trying to insinuate?”

Shirin’s smile turned to a wide-toothed grin. Sweatdrops began to come down the sides of her face.

“What I’m trying to insinuate here… is quite, simple…”

Shirin stood up and began to pace the room. Her footsteps, however quiet, rang out loud as Miru’s eyes intently followed Shirin. Tap, she heard; Tap. Doom encroached. Her heart beat faster and faster.

“I believe…” She paused, strolling into the corner and leaning on the wall, “...that there’s a… maybe a secret, in the room…?”

Miru remained silent - stoic, even; she stood up and interposed, “I-I don’t know what you’re thinking but I-”

“Why are you blushing?”

She blinked. Her face had no expression, but Miru immediately leapt back. Her eyes, wide, she slowly backed into the wall on the other side of the room from Shirin. Her face was white.

Shirin slowly took steps towards her. Miru scooched a little towards the corner before Shirin stopped a metre in front of her, sweat flying down her skin. Miru didn’t notice, her heart pounding.

“Hmmmmmm.”

Silence. Shirin inched closer.

On both of their faces sweat dripped down like streams.

“I know your secret.” She whispered.

Miru jolted.

Within seconds Shirin lay on the ground, the cloud of dust still settling. She could smell the bloodstains surrounding her. Miru pulled out a dagger, inspecting it as she looked down on Shirin, sweat still falling down her face droplet by droplet.

“Then I can’t let you tell anyone.”

She raised the blade.

“And how’re your men gonna react?”

She raised it slightly further.

“How’re you ever gonna reconcile... ...that, with how much you love the Avisen?”

She dropped it.

“Ma’am? Is there something going on inside?” The male voice from the outside streamed in.

The blade lying next to Shirin’s shoulder, her clutching a bloodied cut on her arm, Miru stayed quiet for a moment before shouting “It’s nothing!”

Shirin, shaking, slowly got to her feet, leaning on Miru’s desk as she limped towards her seat. She collapsed onto the wooden base, a wide, menacing smirk printed across her face. Her face was a waterfall, her eyes darting everywhere.

“Come on… let’s… ...talk.” She cackled, waving to Miru to come over. Miru slowly sat in her seat.

“Really, don’t tell me you haven’t considered? Kill me now, what’re you going to explain to your men? Who - by the way - probably want to kill you more than anyone else?”

Silence. Shirin’s smirk faded quickly, gulping.

Miru covered her face with her hand, collapsing into her chair.

Shirin inspected Miru’s expressions as she ran possibilities through her head. Miru’s eyes glazed over, seemingly lifeless as she leaned on the desk. The shadow covering her face turned ever-more menacing; Miru unable to tell what face she was making.

She whispered. “Don’t tell them.”

Shirin leaned slightly back. “Two conditions.”

“...what.” Miru gulped.

“First… say it. I want to hear it from your own mouth. What is it?”

Miru gulped again, shaking as a final bead of sweat came down her neck, before leaning in.

“I… have a sexual attraction… to women.”

She fell back in her chair, remaining silent, unmoving. Shirin fidgeted; remaining silent as she tapped on the desk, what Miru could see of the ends of her lips curling up.

“A-as, I… expected…” She stuttered, her smile vanishing entirely. “Second: Get me and Rie out of here. Do that, and I won’t say a word. Ever.”

Miru glanced away, her eyes narrowed. The frown on her face only widened as she bit her lip and quietly enunciated, “...after you’re finished with the weapon.”

“You can have the other guy. I don’t give a shit ‘bout him.” She stood up. “But if Rie gets hurt…”

“You mean I1-”

Shirin raised her finger in opposition. “She’s a person. A good person. Not somebody who kow-tows her way to the nearest Imperial banner. New condition: call her Rie.”

“...yes…” Miru muttered.

“And uh, just in case you break that; reminder that the Avisen proclamation literally says, verse 3-”

“-the protection of the union of man and woman, in the glory of the great family under one god who protects all…”

“-uh, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Uh… you got me?” Shirin stuttered.

“...yes…”

“Cool. Um… will be finished with the thing in like two days. Uh, ya can send me back now.” Every ounce of determination within her had vanished.

Miru hesitantly walked towards the door, sliding it open; the men came into the room, tied Shirin’s hands and led her out of the room.

Miru went back to her desk and collapsed on the tabletop.

She slammed the wood again and again and again.

Outside, Shirin looked down as she proceeded back to building the weapon, dejected.

She remained willingly silent.