Sam grunted once as the truck jostled around yet again. The narrow dirt mountain road they were currently headed up was decidedly unkind to their turn-of-the-century troop transports. Thankfully, Sam, Ellie, and Kara were seated in the front seat of the second vehicle in their three car convoy.

“Sucks to be the boys in back,” chuckled Sam. “Suspension on these trucks is kinda shit.”

“The suspension is fine,” griped Kara, taking them around a small bend in the road. “It’s just that this road is shite! Obviously they didn’t want to shell out the coin to have proper labor.”

“Proper labor?” Inquired Sam.

“Yes,” she growled. “The Mountain Clans would’ve made this so much smoother! Look at all the potholes, this is clearly ‘human ingenuity’ at work!”

Sam snorted, but said nothing further. The diminutive woman had made her stance on human craftsmanship clear at this point, and Sam had to agree. Virtually every mechanical item he’d been surrounded by so far had been crafted from materials gathered by, or directly by a dwarven clan. He’d even been informed that his rifle, made by Whitney Weapons, had their entire manufacturing and development section run by the local metalworking clan in Etalumarrun.

After spending some time cleaning and familiarizing himself with the weapon, he had to admit the quality of the craftsmanship. It could be fed through one of two magazines belted to his waist, or top-fed through stripper clips, of which he had a plethora in his pack and a pouch on his belt.

It wasn’t a marvel of engineering, at least compared to some of the weapons he’d seen in his past life, but the rifle had a certain elegance to it. Most of his soldiers still used the older bolt-action rifles, save for Corporal Southbranch and Lance Corporal Mountainbreaker, who had an odd, shortened variant. Their versions of the usual bolt-action rifles reminded him strongly of some of the ‘cavalry’ and ‘jungle-carbine’ versions of historical rifles he’d seen in museums and resistance groups around the world in his old life.

“There’s Gerra pass levy station,” stated Kara, pointing at a small, stone-walled fortification several hundred yards away. “That’s where company command is.”

“Our platoon is stationed further into the pass, right?” Asked Sam, still staring at the small keep.

“Yeah, from what I could tell, we’re on a small plateau overlooking the valley floor,” she replied, “Probably ten or fifteen kilometers further in.”

In short order, their small convoy had pulled up to the static defenses in front of the structure and parked. Sandbags, machine guns, and a dozen or so soldiers stood at the front, dug in as best they could in the rocky ground.

“Pull security on the trucks, grab some chow, and rest up,” ordered Sam to his squad. “Command told me it’s a bit of a hike to our position.”

“Yes sir!” Snapped Sergeant Noiesjel before turning and barking a series of orders to his subordinates. Satisfied, Samuel turned for the defenders.

“Papers?” A gate guard demanded as Sam, Ellie, and Kara strode up, his rifle at the low ready.

“Of course, Sergeant,” replied Sam, noting the rank on the man’s collar and pulling his identification free. He passed it over to the soldier, who lowered his rifle in one hand, taking his papers with the other.

The Sergeant looked between his identification packet and him several times before shrugging and handing it back.

“Next!” he called, waving Sam through the break in the sandbag wall. Sam waited briefly for the other two members of his entourage to be waved through, then continued further into the defenses until he reached and entered a comparatively small gate, at least when you factored his sample size of one in Gerra in.

“Warrant Officer Coalbelt!” An icy, nasal feminine voice called over the din of soldiers going about their day.

Turning to the voice, he saw a tall, slender Elf with blanched hair, bright emeraldl eyes, and an absolutely plastic smile striding towards them with open arms.

“Chief Warrant Officer Veserik,” replied Kara, her voice a textbook example of forced neutrality.

“I didn’t expect them to let you out of Gerra,” the Elf stated, coming within ten feet of the group, “Aren’t Novice Mages confined to fortifications, even with the new rulings?”

“Apparently not,” growled Kara through gritted teeth in a forced smile, “I’d like you to meet my new CO, Lieutenant Samuel Volkjel.”

“Ah, Lieutenant,” Ms. Veserik replied, turning to Sam with a warm, predatory smile, “I take it you’re our new lead for Third Platoon?”

“That’s what the Colonel told me,” answered Sam, “Seemed pretty important for me to check in, then hustle my ass to the fighting position. Where’s the Captain?”

“Ah, Captain Jarrus is inside, meeting with a subordinate quickly,” Ms. Veserik grinned, flashing several rows of sharpened canines, “I’m supposed to entertain you until he’s done with his meeting.”

Sam sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He shucked off his pack, grabbed a canteen, and took a long drag before looking back at the confused-looking Chief.

“Great, do you have a place we can sit and get some R&R before we head out?” asked Sam, recapping his water, “We’ve supposedly got a ten kilometer or so hike to the objective, and I’d like it to not suck as much as possible.”

Chief Veserik Quirked her brow for a second as her jaw fell slightly, before she regained her composure and directed the small group to a set of benches by the wall. After the group was seated, the Elf left, promising she’d return when the Captain was free.

“That feel weird to anyone else?” Sam asked, closing his eyes and resting the back of his head against the cool stone walls.

“Fuckin pointy-eared bitch, she was always trying to sleep her way to the top, even at the Ducal Academy,” groused Kara, pulling a small bar of compacted fruit and grains from her rations in her pack. “How do you think she made Chief, while barely having more experience than me?”

“You two know each other, then?” Sam asked, opening a single eye.

“Yeah,” grumbled the dwarven mage. “If you could call three years of constant torment at the DAM ‘knowing each other.’”

Sam snorted as she took her first bite, making eye contact with Ellie, who flicked her eyes in the direction the Chief had walked off to, returned them to his, and shook her head vigorously.

‘Yeah,’ thought Sam with a small grin before he closed his eye again, ‘Got it, don’t bang the Elf. Didn’t need an oracle to figure that one out.’

‘Are you sure about that, dear?’ Thought Ellie. Thought Ellie in his head.

‘What the shit?’ He thought, his eyes snapping open wide as he stared directly in front of himself, ‘A-are you in my head?’

‘How do you think I found you so quickly on the train?’ She replied as he turned his gaze to see her stifling a grin.

‘I… Are you always listening?’ He asked, mildly panicking at some of the passing thoughts she might’ve been privy to.

‘Yes, even those ones.’ She replied, ‘though, they’re a bit muddy for me. I honestly can’t tell how serious you are.’

‘Please stop,’ Sam internally groaned, closing his eyes again after rolling them at her bouncing brows, ‘Stay out of my head.’

‘No.’

‘I swear to Senire, I’m gonna-‘ Sam thought at her before his train of thought was severed.

“Lieutenant Volkjel,” called a sententious voice from across the yard as Sam opened his eyes to look in the direction of his summoner, “I’m so glad command finally got their act together; I’ve had to wait nearly a week for Third Platoon’s reinforcements!”

Sam stared intently at the pompous man that walked towards him with his arms outstretched. The Elf was tall, thin, blond, with long pointed ears. The saccharine grin plastered on his face made Sam immediately want to leave.

‘Self-important motherfucker,’ Sam thought, eying the man’s spotless, ironed uniform, ‘What kind of motherfucker wears a goddamn dress uniform on the front lines?’

‘Believe it or not,’ replied Ellie in his head, ‘I don’t think it’s that uncommon. I’ve been to a couple of worlds like this, and many times the officers are just expected to issue orders and look pretty, particularly if they’re nobility.’

“Good afternoon, Captain Jarrus,” stated Sam neutrally, rising to his feet to shake the Elf’s hand. “Lieutenant Cau-Volkjel reporting for duty as ordered.”

“Lovely to meet you, “ replied the Captain, “I assume command only gave you the short-form of what we’re doing here, yes?”

“More or less, sir,” replied Sam, following the Elf as he was led towards a large pavilion. “I know I’ll be in charge of Third Platoon defending a section of the pass. He didn’t give me much to go off of other than that and ‘don’t die’.”

“That does sound like our dear Colonel,” sighed the tall, lithe Captain, “unfortunately the part of the pass that’s on our border is too wide to defend with a solid line, “So we’ve pulled back to constructed fortifications. First and second platoons are currently here, and here,”

He pointed to two dots in the map of the valley before sliding his finger nearly to the mouth of it.

“Third platoon is here, and have suffered multiple attacks from scouts while on patrol, along with several sabotage attempts.”

“This is a big fuckin pass,” remarked Sam, furrowing his brows, “Why the hell is there only a single company tasked with defending it?”

“Well,” replied Captain Jarrus, his brows creeping skyward, “The enemy pushed hard into Sulesti and near the coast with four full divisions of soldiers. I for one, am glad I’m not in the trenches north of Arraramabus. From a strategic perspective, we don’t have the manpower to defend two fronts, let alone a third. My guess is that command stationed us here to harry and slow any enemy mobility into the valley while they fortify Gerra. Now-”

‘Great,’ Griped Sam internally, ‘We’re a sacrificial force. Sent here as a living alarm bell. Damnit Senire, what the fuck did you get me into?’

‘Don’t try to lie to my Goddess, Sam,’ replied Ellie in his head, ‘I know you’ve done this kind of work before. Remember when you were in Syria?’

‘Fuck,’ Sam griped in his head as the pompous Elf continued his over-detailed briefing, ‘Can’t a guy bitch in the privacy of his own head?’

‘Well yes, you can, but I’ll still be here, you asked for me after all.’

‘Were you in my head in Mexico?’ Sam asked internally.

‘No, this is a boon for you, granted by choosing me to accompany you on this quest.’ Ellie replied.

‘Doesn’t fuckin feel like a boon,’ he grumbled in response.

‘Say that when you need me but don’t have a phone,’ teased Ellie.

“-And of course, securing the valley if you can, Lieutenant,” finished the Captain.

Sam had entirely missed the briefing, his mind being on Ellie, but smiled and nodded like he hadn’t.

“Of course sir, I’ll make it happen,” He replied as the Elf extended a hand for a shake, “Question, what are my rules of engagement?”

“Hmmm, well, mostly to stay in the pass and out of the other platoon’s fields of fire,” answered Captain Jarrus, “Would hate to have more friendly-fire incidents.”

“Understood, sir,” replied Sam, making sure to stick rigidly to military customs in the presence of this particular superior officer, “I best get to my fighting position then.”

“Oh, yes. Unfortunately, you’ll have to leave the trucks here,” the Captain ordered with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Roads have been broken to prevent the enemy from pulling supplies through easily in the event of an incursion. Therefore, you’ll be rucking to where the fortifications are.”

The man pointed to a position near the mouth of the valley, high up on the wall, at least according to the topographical map. It sat dangerously close to the territory of the Darabadian Republic in the north, which held the last quarter of the pass.

“I’ll be there,” replied Sam with a crisp salute, and then turned to his unit.

“Lieutenant!” Screeched the Captain, “I dismiss you! You stand here and wait to be dismissed!”

Sam paused in his walk, canting his head slightly as he sucked on his teeth, desperately trying to avoid mouthing off to the officer. Slowly about-facing, he spun to look at Captain Jarrus with a neutral expression.

“Better.” Snapped the Captain, who met Sam’s cold gaze for several seconds before snorting. “Dismissed, Lieutenant,”

‘I’m impressed that you didn’t snap his neck,’ chuckled Ellie in his head as he walked towards the two of them, ‘You were working really hard for several seconds there.’

‘I ever tell you how much I fuckin hate officers?’ asked Sam by way of reply, storming past Ellie and Kara, practically straight out the gate, ‘Self-aggrandizing fuckwits who think a degree makes their shit not stink.’

‘May I remind you that you’re an officer now?’ reminded Ellie.

Sam said nothing, keeping his thoughts quiet as he heard the sound of two distinct pairs of feet following him out the gates and through the fortifications at the front of the diminutive castle. He stepped past the guards to the several gaggles of his soldiers, currently eating, pulling security, performing maintenance on their weapons, or resting.

Corporal Razkjec was the first to notice him approach and began to stand, the glint in her golden reptilian eyes clearly signaling that she was about to call the platoon to attention.

“Don’t,” growled Sam with a chop of his hand, “When should we be ready to march? Looks like we’ve got about twelve kilometers of uneven ground to hike to the front since they destroyed the ground to slow incursions.”

“If the men could get an hour,” replied the Corporal, frozen halfway to attention, “I could promise they’d be ready to go. It will most likely be half that, however.”

“Outstanding, where’s Sergeant Nioesjel?” Sam asked.

“By the rear-most truck, sir,” answered the Corporal, hefting what Sam now realized was probably an anti-tank rifle onto her shoulder. The bolt-action weapon had a large square box on the left side, just in front of a bullet-sized slit.

The tall lizard-woman smiled predatorily as she caught him eying her large weapon. She said nothing, but her scales began to slowly shift from their green and gold to a murky bronze and red.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a drakekin blush before,’ remarked Ellie in his head, ‘I think you might have yourself a not-so-secret admirer.’

‘Oh fuck off,’ Sam internally growled, ‘Here on a mission, remember. Save the kid, kill the bad guys?’

‘Do you remember that I can see your thoughts?’

Sam inhaled once, and turned briskly left, searching out his senior NCO. He needed to plan the march to his position. If the enemy was smart, they would’ve filled the valley with guerrilla fighters, scouts, and possibly traps.

* * *

“It’s not surprising they’re worried about this valley, given that it has the geography of fucking Afghanistan,” remarked Sam to Ellie as they patrolled down the side of the broken road. “This is more like the Grand Canyon than a fuckin pass.”

“I’d imagine your ambush-senses are tingling right about now,” snorted Ellie in return.

Sam nodded, and looked ahead to Fireteam Alpha, made up of Sergeant Noiesjel and several of his chosen men. Currently his squad was spread out into four fireteams in an elongated staggered column along either side of the cratered and torn road.

The Sergeant, having the most experience, was tasked with clearing the road ahead, and given extra berths to fan his small unit out to spot threats. Oddly enough, in addition to Kara, his “Command Squad” as they’d come to put it had ended up adding Henfri to the mix. She’d argued fervently that as the team member with the most powerful weapon, naturally bullet-resistant skin, and the strength of several men, she’d be better suited to being his bodyguard than a fireteam lead.

Sam had initially turned her down, but after an hour of relentless “I respect your authority, but…” from her, he’d caved, not having the mental energy to argue with the giant woman and plan his operations at the same time.

“What is ‘Af-gaynee-stan’?” asked the large anti-tank gunner.

“Uhh, it’s a far away land with incredibly mountainous geography,” replied Sam, attempting to cover his small slip of the tongue. He’d repeatedly forgotten, then been promptly reminded that Henfri had hearing significantly better than your average human.

“Sounds a lot like the mountains of Bahbadia; my mother speaks of them often!” Henfri chuckled sadly, “It is one of the reasons I was excited to be given a posting in Gerra pass, although it’s colder than I’d like.”

Sam snorted as he passed his gaze along the right side of the road, doing his best to force his mk.1 eyeballs to pry apart the dense mountain forest. The trees here felt different, like they were peering into him the same way he watched them.

“Why leave, then?” Asked Sam, remembering the relatively flat geography of Lenit on the maps he’d seen, save for the northern mountains the pass went through.

“She and my fathers followed the wrong religion,” replied the Corporal, head swiveling to the left, “They were driven from their home by the followers of the Schareion Pantheon.”

“Shit, that sucks,” remarked Sam, lifting his rifle as he heard a twig snap in the woods. He focused in on the iron sights of the weapon, turning the upper half of his body to face the woods as his legs kept marching forward.

A small rabbit-like creature scurried out of a bush on the edge of the road, and he sighed. This valley was clearly prime real-estate for an ambush, and memories of his time in Korengal kept worming their way into his mind. Lowering his rifle, he continued his leisurely march down the road.

‘Remind me to thank Senire later,’ he mentally remarked, hoping Ellie could hear, ‘Actually gave me the body of a twenty-three year old. My knees haven’t felt this good in nearly a decade!’

‘I’m glad you appreciate her efforts,’ she replied over the psychological connection, ‘I know she was quite proud of the vessel she crafted for you.’

‘Care to elaborate?’

‘No.’ She replied with a mental chuckle.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, about to reply when a loud snap broke the still evening air. Turning, he saw Lance Corporal Southbranch clutching her shoulder with gritted teeth.

“SNIPER! GET COVER!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, diving into the small ditch at the side of the road, “Anyone got eyes on?”

Henfri slid into cover next to him, rapidly spinning her head from one side to the other. The large reptilian shimmied into the ground slightly as her colored scales changed, muting themselves from a deep emerald and gold to a forest green and sandy tan.

“Shit Henfri,” he remarked as he watched the display, “You’ve got a built-in ghillie?”

“I don’t know what that word is,” she growled in reply, pushing herself close next to him, causing Sam to furrow his brow in confusion. “I heard the shot from between that ridge and those tall trees.”

She pointed at a partially obscured ridge-line several hundred yards in the distance. Sam thought hard, realizing that the road would be perfectly exposed the entire way up to the possible position of the sniper.

Another shot snapped off, missing Kara by several inches and causing a small explosion of wood from the tree behind her. Sam nodded, deciding on a plan.

“Squad, suppress the ridge at our ten o-clock, Kara, Henfri, on me!”

‘This is gonna suck,’ He thought as the return fire began in earnest and he leapt out of the ditch, heading for his marksman, Sergeant Noiesjel. A round snapped into the broken cobblestone six feet in front of him, the small tuft of dirt throwing several small pebbles onto his boots.

He slid into the larger ditch on the other side of the road about a second before his two companions, using it as an impromptu trench.

‘Hey Ellie, can you back my play?’ He thought as he beamed a mental image of his plan through his mind.

‘On it,’ came the mental reply before he heard her shouting orders to the teams behind himself.

The Sergeant was less than a dozen yards away now, lying on his back against the wall of the ditch, trying to get a line on the sniper.

“Sergeant,” greeted Sam as he slid into cover next to the man, “We’re gonna hunt a sniper.”