It was almost like she was given a true second chance at life. Gone were the days of the Royal Court and the endless night studying how to run a kingdom that she wouldn’t even inherit, and now she was able to hold her head just slightly higher in a country not privy to her true identity as the First-Born Princess. Unlike her previous occupation as a member of the Royal Family, she had the freedom to do whatever she pleased, and for now, her life was dedicated to helping the men her family summoned to fight a war that was not theirs. She would hold herself to this goal as long as she lived, thought the least she could do was make sure that each of the men could look upon the bright blue spring skies above without any worries.

Lecca stepped out of a small washroom. She was currently in an adjacent wing near the main building where the ball she and the others were ordered to attend was. In the hallway she now stood and walked down, the sun shone on the outside world, its warmth painted over the paved streets and red-grey bricks of the capital; people from all over the Federation went about their days as they drove or walked to their next destinations. Inhabiting such a peaceful world, she was lucky enough to end up here rather than the endless wastelands that the Demon Lord supposedly inhabited long beyond the grounds of the frontier. There wasn’t much to worry about, being in the capital city of the Federation, a military powerhouse and perhaps even a world power was something that even a Demon Lord would have trouble fighting against.

Though her mind was occupied with the possible results of the next meeting she was to attend in the stead of Captain Thompson, her feet remained light as she recalled her eventful evening with Sergeant Randall and how they danced away the night at the so called “jazz” bar he had found the day before with the help of Officer Phillips. Her stomach began to jump around at the thoughts of the previous night, but she didn’t let the warm feeling in her chest take over her professional demeanor as she stopped in front of a wooden door. As if a person on the other side of the door was aware of her presence, a voice broke through the wooden barrier, “Please come in! We’re just about to have lunch!”

Entering the room in a business-like manner, Lecca nodded her head at the one that called through the door. Before her was Sergeant Malkovich standing alongside several men in suits. Each of the men she was unfamiliar with wore a small pin on their collar signifying their affiliation with the head office that oversaw the entire Federation.

Finding her seat alongside Sergeant Malkovich, the princess remained silent as the leader of the meeting, Donovan Marcello stepped forward and gathered everyone’s attention under the frigid air of the spring wind that blew through several open windows. “We are now in a state of emergency. Our country—message snipers from the National Intelligence Agency have caught wind of a possible troop buildup of troops along out southern border. It’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen in our nation’s history.”

Turning to the board behind him and attaching several black-white photos with pins, Donovan revealed that several NIA agents working alongside Naval Intelligence Specialists had spotted a large wreckage of the frontier’s coast, and after a thorough damaged assessment investigation, it was revealed that an unknown group of mercenaries had engaged what looked to be a platoon sized element of knights belonging to the Kingdom of Yondel. “That was three days ago—” Donovan explained while tapping his finger against one of the photos that showed several dead corpses on the beach. “Thirty-eight hours ago?” Donovan reported while placing one final photo on the board, “Two-thousand marching towards the settlement of Stragea.”

The information presented hadn’t taken surprise in the other government officials present, yet Malkovich clenched his hands, and Lecca bit the inside of her mouth as the detailed report from the Air Marshal that took the photo was passed around. The princess didn’t need to read the report to know how the men before her were feeling about the situation presented; the man’s words alone was more than enough to transcribe the message of, “We need to stop this,” clearly.

“We’re looking at a possible first strike against the Kingdom’s forces—” Representative from the Joint-Naval Administration, Adam Andrews said, “If not, it would be a retaliatory strike against sending an entire invasion force into Federation borders.” His words were crystal to Malkovich and Lecca; war would break out if the two-thousand knights and soldiers crossed the frontier much like they had months earlier.

A question was proposed by Donovan as he wiped the small amount of sweat that had built up on his forehead, “I there any particular reason why they would approach us now?” The question was more than enough to pique Lecca’s interest as she instantly thought of many answers.

From a special operation to launch a first strike against the “Demon Lord”, to a possible recue mission to save her, a member of the Royal Family, it was clear that the Kingdom wouldn’t stop until they achieved their goal beyond the frontier.

Ship Master David Westchester, primary commander for the 3rd Joint Naval Fleet stationed off the coast off Porleta 100 miles from the settlement of Stragea, had devised to use specially modified aircraft from the Federation Armies to launch a direct strike against key logistical and military installations deep inside the Kingdom of Yondel; his plan had yet to receive the green light from his immediate superiors as the plan was forwarded to General of the Amies and Chair of Military Operations.

Dubbed, “The Westchester Plan”, the mission would be near impossible, and would be more than suicidal and consequential for the Army Pilots, Air Marshals, and Naval mechanics that had volunteered to undertake such a daring raid deep into enemy airspace. The Department for Naval Science and Joint Naval Administration would oversee the preparations for the mission, yet bureaucratic red tape held their efforts back.

“Our N-OC has already spread a few whispers to President Harding.” Donovan continued as he made mention to the Naval Operations Commander and the President which made Malkovich raise an eyebrow. “A timetable of 400 hours is on the table before the two-thousand plus soldiers make any moves.”

“Pardon me for interrupting, but might there be a reason why you are sharing such information with us?” Raising her hand, Lecca shared her confusion of being called into this meeting between governmental officials hoping to learn the truth of why she and Sergeant Malkovich were the only one’s present.

“It’s simple, you all were being directed by the Royal Family and their military.” Speaking up, Chief of Naval Operations, Aldridge Neck spoke up. “We suspect that you might know something that’ll allow us to effectively combat this threat against national security.”

“So, you don’t suspect us?” Malkovich said with some hesitation.

“Not saying we didn’t, but it’s not like you all haven’t been under surveillance for the entire time you’ve been in this country.” Donovan admitted, shifting in his chair he vaguely motioned his hand to the two foreigners that were currently in the room.

Tapping his fingers against the wooden table he and the others sat at, Sergeant Malkovich sat in thought as he tried to come up with some sort of plan to help the Federation in combating this new threat created by the very same kingdom that summoned both himself and the other Rangers into this world of fantasy.

Rising from his seat and moving to the board where the images were plastered upon, the man was able to come up with a conclusion, “Instead of moving for a first strike, make it to where the Federation has the upper hand in the politics of war.” As he spoke the men around him studied his every move with keen eyes. “If you somehow get approval to launch a first strike wouldn’t your sister nations frown upon such actions and be less likely to support any military campaign?”

Donovan hummed at the suggestion.

“A first contact package.” Tapping the photo which containted the 2000 soldiers, the Sergeant made his move, “Special Forces will be placed to make first contact with intelligence agents. A recon platoon will be coordinating with an artillery battery; the area where first contact is to happen, must be an area that is pre-sighted for the guns.”

“Special Forces…” Andrews whispered to himself.

“Perhaps it could be similar to Project Blackbird…?” Donovan whispered to the man.

Ignoring the two men, Sergeant Malkovich continued with confidence as he began to list of the required resources, “—We’re talking about around a platoon’s worth of SF, around sixteen. For the Quick Reaction Forces, have two platoons on standby; staging grounds will be necessary to carry out the mission, but in case of any problems, the batteries at the rear will wait for a call from one of the recon pickets.”

Leaning forward in his seat, Donovan tapped his fingers against the wooden table, “And you’re positive that this will cover all of our bases in the case of an invasion?”

“Not everything. The window of opportunity that artillery provides will just give enough time for the first contact team to extract, beyond that, I have no idea what the Federation has planned to counter an invasion force, perhaps a battalion based nearby, or something from the Navy…”

Mulling over the option provided, Donovan remained silent as he accounted for every variable for the first contact mission provided before him. He knew the Ranger-turned-IA was right, yet he couldn’t help but feel his blood boiling for a fight. With his feelings shoved to the side it was obvious the right men for the job would be needed for such a daring an equally suicidal plan. There was no doubt in his mind that the “Rangers” would be spearheading the platoon assigned for first contact, but the “Special Forces” the man had mentioned caught his attention.

Having an inkling of the man’s past it was clear that a “Ranger” was different to that of a soldier within “Special Forces”. It seemed that the two organizations held different goals; based on the reports he had read, the 75th Ranger Regiment were similar to that of the Air Combat Regiments that was owned by the Federation Army. Special Forces… perhaps they were similar to the field operatives and Cells of the Office of Homeland and Foreign Intelligence; if they were similar, then choosing an Army Intelligence platoon alongside OHFI operatives would be the right move.

“Chieftain-Agent Araish.” Donovan started standing up and barking out with his voice he had back when he was a part of the 32nd Light Infantry Corps in the Navy. “You will take command of this operation and meet these sons’ a’ bitches right where they stand! I will not let this Federation be invaded by damn barbarians that can’t even be bothered to look at a fucking map! Understood!?”

Straightening herself, Lecca tensed as she answered with an equally strong voice, “Sir, yes sir!”

“Get the fuck out of here!” The man motioned as he turned around to pick up the items he placed on the board.

Exiting the now busy room side-by-side at 1300 hours on the dot, Lecca and Malkovich felt the tension leave their bodies as they moved to the opposite side of the hallway where the sun beamed inside of the grand building Malkovich wiped his face and let out a quick sigh as he was the first to speak, “Special Forces, shit…Didn’t mean to let that one slip…” he said beating himself over what happened inside the office room.

Acting disappointed, Lecca decided to tease the depressed sergeant, “Yeah, way to go…” She said biting back the urge to laugh at the state of the man next to her.

“Please… don’t dig the hole further…” He whimpered gaining a small chuckle from the princess who turned to return to the ball room that laid on at the center of the large complex. With her hands falling to her side, Lecca made her way to the main ball room hall; her eyes passed over every person that she walked passed loitering the hallways.

Just ahead of her at the entrance to the hall, a man slinked out of the shadows of the doorway and entered the very same hall.

Waving off some nearby people that were looking at him, he turned to look at the woman walking towards him with a quiet and puzzled look on her face. Beyond her stunning figure that was complemented by the grey dress she wore; her beautiful brown eyes and unique, wavy, silver-hair that flowed to her shoulders shined in the sunlight and shuffled like fine strands of silk in the wind.

“My, my!” The man said as he brushed his golden paving the way for his pale skin to be highlighted in the sun, “Ms. Araish, I didn’t know you were coming around to this place.” He said slightly surprised that a fellow agent would be attending such a high-value target in the middle of the capital.

“Wash.” Lecca said while nodding her head, Wash wasn’t the last person she wanted to see today, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped when regarding the situation they were both in. “I presume you are pulling security for this event?”

“Yup.” Raising his left arm and flashing the inside of his cuff, he showed a small pin that acted as a radio between agents on duty for the event. Adjusting his bowtie, the golden-haired man tried to not let the uncomfortable tuxedo he was in distract his image.

Chuckling at the young man’s attempt to be suave, Lecca walked passed him and into the hall where the ball was being held. All around her, citizens from both the Federation and her sister nations walked around the venue; some danced, some spoke amongst each other, and others enjoyed the delicacies being served for the early afternoon session.

Swiping a full glass of champagne off one of the covered tables, Lecca took a gentle sip as the fuzzy liquid touched her tongue making her shiver.

“Hah!” Wash laughed, “You were never one for alcohol.” He said gleefully as he abstained from drinking his own due to his current job.

Recalling the previous night, she spent drinking hard liquor with Mike, all the disguised princess could do was roll her eyes as she moved to the side of the room where several large windows beamed the light of the sun while the music being played by the hired band gentle played over the grand room.

Taking a seat at on a nearby chair, Wash remained silent as his eyes gently scanned over all the attendants to the ball. His foot moved to the tempo of the music being played, and his fingers mimicked that of a handgun; he was ready to spring into action, yet nothing had arrived.

Gently sipping the champagne in her glass, Lecca eyed Captain Thompson and Lieutenant Patterson speaking to several men that stood around them. They were close enough to eavesdrop on the conversation, but that also meant that Wash could hear them as well.

“—I want to make it clear, that I will not budge on the security and safety of my men.” Thompson’s voice was cold as he spoke in a formal manner.

“With all due respect—Agent, you are looking at a possible breach of national security, and war.” The leader of the men surrounding him, and the Lieutenant said in a rough voice. “We don’t have time to play games over safety of you all, besides, weren’t you an Air Combat Regiment or something?”

“75th Ranger Regiment, all are Airborne; not to mention we are no shock unit that goes to die, we make precision strikes and lead the way for other infantry units to capture strategic locations during any conflict.” Lieutenant Patterson countered citing his unit’s history.

“That just means you are all qualified! I’ll have you all report to Firebase Rain after this!”

Biting his lip, the Lieutenant knew he had just set up the others to go on the mission to confront the two thousand plus soldiers marching through the frontier. Thompson restrained his anger and frustration opting to remain silent as the men that had bothered them walked away at a brisk pace. Patting the young man on the back, the captain slowly guided his subordinate to a nearby table that held alcoholic drinks, he supposed it we be enough to buzz away the frustrations of the day.

Quietly sipping on her drink, Lecca knew that Wash was going to bring up the argument that had just happened. He had been rubbing his palms together for the past three minutes, and his demeanor seemed to be more concerned and upset than anything else. “You’re leading that mission, aren’t you?” Wash’s voice was cold as he processed the information he had gained from eavesdropping. A frown was plastered on his mouth, and his eyebrows arched in anger as he kept control of every emotion flowing through his body.

“We have no choice. My country could possibly start and accidental war with the Federation.” Lecca mulled in an apathetic voice. Her mind drifted to the idea of open conflict with the mechanically superior Federation, and the magically superior Kingdom. No matter who would win in the end, the total cost would be something to fear. It would be comparable to the second war against the Demon Lord if the Federation went ahead with its plans for a first strike operation.

“Target Yondel…” Wash murmured. “I’ve read the reports, who in our class would’ve thought that the fifth best was born in the Kingdom of Yondel…?”

Not responding to the words the young man spoke, Lecca steadied herself, “We can only hope that the Kingdom refrains from using their heroes against us…” Her voice was laced with uncertainty as she thought back to the stories of the summoned heroes capable of magic feats that rivaled the Gods.

“Whatever magic the Kingdom has in store for us wont be enough to stop the waves of infantry that we’ll be able to throw at them.” Convinced by his own words, Wash stood from his seat as he gave an uncertain and hopeful look to the princess, “The infantry will be more than capable of moping up anyone that gets any ideas, but for a first contact scenario… promise me that you’ll come back alive.”

Over the short period of time Lecca knew the man beside her, she understood that there was more to him than his flirtatious attitude; he was someone that cared deeply for his fellow human, and he would stop at nothing to make sure that they returned home safe. “We will.” She returned the gesture, knowing that it was a great possibility no one would ever return to Zivaland if the meeting went sideways.

As if on time with the ending note of the song being played, Sergeant Randall and the others a part of Task Force Spare entered the room clad in their tuxedos. Giving a slight smile when seeing what the female agent was distracted by Wash made a silent exit as he slunk away through a side door towards the front of the venue. By the time Agent Araish looked back, all she saw was an empty chair sitting at an equally empty table.

Placing her empty glass on the table, she quietly breathed as she turned her body away from the empty chair. Her steps echoed in her mind as she calmly walked over to the dressed-up men who were all standing at the far corner of the venue gaining silent gazes from nearby partygoers and governmental representatives.

“—At least we know that our mission isn’t going to kill us instantly…” Richard whispered to Sergeant Malkovich while patting his back.

“Yeah. Still, what are the odds that they don’t kill us on sight if we’re with Federation soldiers?” Baker questioned as he missed the feeling of a gun in his hands.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that point.” Mike said trying to be optimistic of the situation they were being forced into. The group fell into silence as some took the time to still their nerves by eating the small blocks of cheese, they were able to grasp from one of the tables scoured across the room.

“Gentlemen…”

Turning to the bell-like voice that called out to them, Mike was the first to lay his eyes on the princess who walked up to him and the others. Just for a moment he was captivated by her beauty in the slim grey dress that hugged her body and the pale skin that shined alongside her silk-like hair. Blinking several times, he stayed focused.

“Chieftain.” Thompson replied still finding it odd that he was technically addressing a foreign commanding officer that oversaw him and his squadron.

“No need to refer to me in that manner.” Lecca said with a slight smile. “We’ve been through enough to where that isn’t necessary.”

Raising an eyebrow, Thompson and the others weren’t as comfortable with that idea. “Outside of Randall, I think we’ll stick to your position or rank at least while on a mission…” Several chuckles came from the men as Simon nudged the semi-flustered sergeant who averted his gaze to not see their conniving gazes.

“Of course.” She returned in a business-like manner as she too a look over her shoulder. The crowds of politicians, law enforcement, diplomats, intelligence agents, military officials, governmental employees, and influential citizens made her feel lightheaded as she recalled all the similar events she had attended during her tenure as the First-Born Princess. “Still, we stand out like a sore thumb…”

“Yeah, we look like a bunch of idiots.” Richard said being enough to gain a light smack on the head from Patterson.

With an unamused look on his face, Thompson quickly came up with a plan of action, “Alright, split up into two pairs each. We’re going to see if we can’t fish some information about the first strike scenario from these people.” He ordered turning to Malkovich and placing a hand on his shoulder, “You’re with me.” He said while fist-bumping the quiet sergeant.

As Lecca went to turn to the sergeant, she was so familiar with, she stopped in her steps as she watched him face Simon, “Hey kid, want to roll up on some of these politicians?” He said with a gentle smile on his face as he patted the boy’s back.

“Uh…?” Simon looked confused as he gazed between his NCO and the princess who was watching quietly. “Apologies Sergeant!” He said grasping Richard’s shoulder catching the man off guard, “But—the Corporal and I had already agreed to go around the ball!”

“Huh! W-Wait!? What!? Help!?” Richard cried as he was dragged by the PFC towards the opposite side of the venue.

Shocked at the display he just watched; Sergeant Randall couldn’t even conjure the anger he wanted as he watched the two boys disappear into the large crowds that flooded the floor. Lecca walked up to him slightly disappointed, yet she was able to hide her expression as she chuckled into her hand.

“Really…?”

Grasping his arm in a formal manner, Lecca tugged on his sleeve, “C’mon, no one is waiting for you. Better to get started now, don’t you think?” She said in a quiet voice.

Normally he would brush aside anyone that tried to latch onto him, but here he was remaining silent. “Alright.” He said moving in sync once more with the princess. The sunlight painted a bright yellow glow upon their path as they moved to the center of the ballroom looking for someone to question.

As Lecca spotted a target, a shadow suddenly rushed over her face. Confused she looked up at the sky, yet she never saw anything.

Publicly Available Information: Project Blackbird:

Devised by Sergeant Major Kilos Domani and officially created by General Torres Del Romano, Project Blackbird is a program to create a Special Missions Unit (SMU) capable of both traditional warfighting tactics and the ability to perform secretive missions autonomously and without oversight.

Pulling service members from all branches of the military, Project Blackbird aims to create a new form of warfare learning from all aspects of the Federation’s military history. Trained by Field Operatives from the OMFS and OHFI, these SMUs can undertake black operations throughout the world.