Chapter 4: Echoes from the Line
April 10th, 2145 – Internment Zone 86, Unit 586 Barracks
"They're sending us another one?" Dalca scoffed, wiping grease from her hands. "Great. How long do you think she'll last?"
"Three days," mumbled Hugo, leaning against a crate. "The last one barely made it past one mission."
Cpt. Mireille, their squad leader, stood at the end of the barracks with a cigarette pressed between her lips. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the new assignment.
"Cadet Vladilena Milizé," she read aloud. "Noble."
That earned more than a few groans.
"She's not going to make it," someone muttered.
Mireille exhaled smoke. "Probably not. But she'll get the same chance as the rest. Suit up. We've got patrol rotation in an hour."
No one mentioned the new handler again.
---
April 10th – Handler Control Room, Republic Side
Lena's headset buzzed to life. The data streams flickered. She leaned forward, posture controlled but alert.
"All units in 586, this is Handler One," she said, voice clear and professional. "Your patrol route is Grid Echo-Seven through Tango-Four."
No dramatic speeches. No desperate hope.
Just orders.
"Visual feed confirmed," she continued, fingers gliding over the console. "Reginleif integrity at ninety-two percent. Proceed when ready."
A beat of silence followed.
Then Mireille's voice crackled back through.
"Copy that, Handler One. Moving out."
Lena exhaled softly, gaze steady on the screen. She didn't expect warmth. Only function.
And this time, function was enough.
---
April 11th – Military Academy Cafeteria
"Are you serious?" Annette Penrose blinked at Lena across their table. "You actually requested frontline assignment?"
Lena stirred her tea calmly. "Yes."
Annette stared. "That's suicide, Lena. You should be aiming for Strategic Command. Safe. Prestigious."
"I'm not interested in prestige," Lena said, meeting her eyes. "I want to understand what's really happening out there."
Annette hesitated. "This isn't just about understanding, is it?"
Lena didn't answer.
Annette leaned in. "Is this about them? The Eighty-Six?"
Still no answer. Just a small, tired smile from Lena.
Annette leaned back, sighing. "You're insane. But fine. I'll help where I can."
"Thank you," Lena said softly.
Some truths couldn't be spoken yet. Not even to Annette.
---
April 12th – Undisclosed Hangar, Republic Storage
Lena moved between rows of discarded Reginleif parts and drones. Rusted pieces. Units long since gutted.
A man in a dusty uniform appeared from behind a pillar, wiping his hands on a rag.
"You're not supposed to be down here."
"I got clearance," Lena said, handing him a forged slip. "I'm studying older tech logs."
He squinted at her. "Milizé? Should've figured. Only nobles poke around here with that kind of confidence."
"I want to understand the war," she said.
The man barked a short laugh. "You won't find it in parts."
"Maybe not," Lena said. "But I'll find the ones who were forced to pilot them."
She walked off, file in hand.
---
April 13th – Internment Zone 86, Spearhead Barracks
"Another unit lost their handler?" Kurena asked, arms crossed.
Raiden nodded, frowning. "Unit 586. Barely a week in."
Shin didn't look up. "What does it matter?"
"Just weird," Theo muttered. "It's like the whole damn system's falling apart."
Raiden grunted. "It always was."
They fell silent.
Kurena kicked a stone. "Think we'll get a new one soon?"
"I hope not," Theo muttered. "I'm sick of hearing empty voices behind a desk."
Shin didn't respond. His eyes remained focused on the map on the wall—battle lines, shifting slowly, endlessly.
---
April 14th – Republic Command Briefing Room
"Cadet Milizé," said the officer at the front of the room, adjusting his glasses. "Your performance with 586 has been noted."
Lena nodded once. "Thank you, sir."
"There's an opportunity to transfer to a more critical frontline unit. One with… higher instability. Are you interested?"
Her heart paused in her chest.
"Which unit?" she asked carefully.
"Spearhead Squadron."
Lena kept her expression neutral.
"Yes," she said. "I'll take it."
The officer raised an eyebrow. "They don't last long, Milizé. And they don't take well to newcomers."
"I don't expect them to."
He studied her, then finally nodded. "Transfer begins in two days."
Lena stepped out into the hallway.
She stood there for a long moment, staring at her reflection in the glass window.
This time… I'll do it right.
---
End of Chapter 4