The press conference was far more draining than Eve had expected. High-ranking officers and government officials filled the broad stage at the center of a semicircular hall that looked like a university convocation hall. Rows of seats curved around the room, every one filled with reporters and delegates from nations, all fixated on the podium and lectern.
Captain Nia sat near the back of the stage, tucked to the side. Eve stood just behind her, arms folded loosely at her waist, scanning the room.
Other officials had bodyguards too, while more conventional military security stood beyond the double doors.
Eve spotted Elisa standing sentinel behind a Korean delegate in a navy suit who also had the Seaward Wolves insignia pinned on their lapel.
So that's why she's here—she's a bodyguard for someone as well.
A large screen loomed overhead, projecting remote attendees. Most high-importance individuals had their cameras covered and spoke with a scrambed voice changer, but a few—those who were merely unable to make the trip—showed their faces.
The opening speeches mentioned familiar things: condemning Asphodel's drones, chemical programs, and attacks on medics and civilians. They raised the captured HCCAD drone as evidence. To Eve, it was the first she'd heard of bioweapons, which made her wonder what else BHISL or other branches had found.
Everything was loosely hidden behind the banner of being classified. However, the attacks on medics and civilians was something that the Asphodelians had been up to since day one.
Eve gritted her teeth.
Eventually, Captain Nia was called up. When she spoke, Nia discussed TRACE's role on the squad level and what they'd seen operating in Asphodelian territory. She was careful not to speak about topics that were classified, which, of course, there were a lot of.
Nia also discussed the squad handler and the TRACE squad's perspective on such ethical questions that had been raised earlier.
Even these scraps were enough to excite the room. TRACE had been little more than a simple name until now. Now with its declassification the press was positively alight with a frenzied fervour.
Eve thought Nia handled herself well—though when Nia sat back down, she shot Eve a wide-eyed look that read as, God, I hate public speaking. Save me. Eve answered with a quiet thumbs up.
Finally came the storm of questions. Hands shot up, voices overlapped, and the room became chaos until a Halcyon army general stood and picked a name out of a list of all press present.
"Mr. Roger," he said slowly.
A reporter in a crimson suit stood, smoothing his tie as though the whole hall belonged to him. "Roger, HFTV," he announced loudly. "My questions are for Captain Nia from TRACE. Captain, what can you tell us about TRACE's operations so far? Anything unclassified that wasn't in your speech?"
Nia rose and walked to the lectern, Eve trailing half a step behind. "That would be better directed to my superiors," she said carefully.
Roger leaned forward. "Not even a little? A personal account, maybe. Your experiences. Anything at all."
Nia gave a short laugh. "That narrows it down to almost nothing. TRACE, as you know, is the Halcyon Federation's Tier One Special Forces branch. Like BHISL or the 83rd Royal Marine Commandos, we specialize in direct action, special reconnaissance, unconventional warfare—among other things."
Roger's pen scratched on his notepad. "And what makes TRACE different from BHISL? Or any other unit?"
"We're Tier One," Nia replied with a shrug. "You can look up the distinction later."
Roger's eyes flicked to his notes. "Alright. Then tell me this—what's TRACE's success rate so far?"
"Classified," Nia said, voice flat. "But we're very effective."
"And your personal thoughts on the uh… Asphodelian special forces? The Blood Angel Regiment, or BAR? Have you ever come head to head with them?"
"My thoughts don't matter."
Roger pushed again for more information. "Why not?"
"They don't matter," Nia repeated, her tone cooling, as a TRACE Major gave her a discreet signal to wrap it up. She inclined her head to the reporter. "Thank you for your questions, sir."
- - -
Even after the conference had finished, Eve's job wasn't done. Tired as she was, Eve escorted Captain Nia to her hotel where a scattered few military officers were staying as well.
Eve stayed right by her side until Nia entered her room.
"...Sergeant. Step in, please. Close the door behind you."
"Yes, ma'am."
Eve stepped into the room. It was an average hotel room. It wasn't unnecessarily gaudy, but at the same time it looked pretty comfortable.
Glancing around, Eve found that the bed had been twisted away from the window and the curtains had been pulled shut. While it made the room feel stuffy, it was necessary; the hotel had large windows and this was the safest sleeping arrangement for Nia.
Perhaps Eve was being paranoid, but she wouldn't feel truly safe until she was back at base and this whole event blew over.
"I'm exhausted. Sorry, do you mind waiting for me? I have to debrief you, but I want to take a shower and change first." Captain Nia draped her tunic and beret on a clotheshanger.
"Of course." Eve moved to stand in a corner of the room where she'd be able to monitor both the closed window, bathroom door, and the door to the hallway all at once.
- - -
Nia walked out of the bathroom with her hair still slightly damp and flowing freely. She wore an oversized hoodie and shorts.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting, Sergeant."
Eve stared.
Captain Nia tilted her head to one side. "Sergeant?"
As absurd as it might sound, Eve honestly hadn't taken a proper look at her handler. Ever.
Seeing her now, Nia's hair cascaded down her shoulders, held back lazily with two hair clips. She had almond-shaped eyes that were onyx black. She had a shapely face as well—if she wasn't in the military, she'd probably hear that she was pretty often at work. Yet it was so strange, seeing her handler out of uniform.
I don't think that I've actually seen ma'am out of uniform before, Eve thought.
Eve repeated her thoughts out loud. "Sorry, ma'am. It's just that I don't think I've actually seen you out of uniform before…"
"Oh," Nia laughed. She tugged at her hoodie strings. "Is it strange?"
"No, not at all."
Nia looked a lot more relaxed as she filled up her mug with hot water. Being out of uniform made her features look soft and remarkably young for someone holding such a position.
The hotel and its systems had been completely rented for and taken over by the Halcyon Military for the duration of the event, and while everything should have been safe, Eve still gently took Nia's mug and tested it for poison with a taste test and a chemical tab before considering it safe and handing it back to her handler.
Nia settled down on the bed, sitting with her bare legs hanging off of the side of the mattress. Nia then calmly proceeded with the debrief as she wrung the water out of her hair with a towel.
No offense to her handler, but Eve felt it difficult to take her seriously when Captain Nia was wearing lax uni student loungewear.
"Firstly, your gear. Once I dismiss you, head back to the convention center. There should still be military vehicles moving back and forth, hitch a ride on one of those. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you, but walking or taking public transport are completely out of the question. You remember the way back up to the security room, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. They'll have security 24/7 around the convention center, so remember your ID. Some TRACE squads and Marine Squads should still be patrolling the center. After you hand back your equipment, you're free to change back into your civies[1], and remember to leave your uniform in the right locker. They'll go through and wash it for you."
"Yes, ma'am. What about the plans for tomorrow?"
"Same time. Arrive at the security room at 0800 in civies, same drill as today with grabbing your equipment and changing. You should be able to manage that relatively quickly. Then, we'll meet up back in this room at 0930. I'll give you the briefing for the day then."
"Yes, ma'am. Is that all?"
"Yes, sergeant. You're dismissed."
Eve turned for the door. Just as she was about to head out, she heard Captain Nia's voice from the bed.
"Wait, Sergeant. Sorry, I forgot I wanted to tell you something."
Eve turned back towards the bed to face Nia.
"Yes, ma'am?"
Nia looked at Eve with a curious expression, then smiled, taking a deep breath.
"My full name is Rosemary Nia. I like video games too. I played Undertaker for a little while, but I never really got into it. Oh, and I'm 19 years old. Thanks for escorting me today. I really didn't know if I could do it, but with you at my back… well, I felt much more reassured. So thank you."
Captain Nia played with her thumbs awkwardly.
Eve's mind short-circuited as it focused on a single detail.
…Nineteen? She's NINETEEN??? Wait, that means that she's younger than me. THE Captain Nia is younger than me.
With how Nia acted and carried herself usually, Eve had always assumed that Nia was much older, even though high levels of professionalism under stress was a vital part of their job description.
That was the other thing.
Seeing Nia throw professionalism out the window and be herself, a university aged girl, was wild to Eve, as if she were seeing a whole new side to Nia.
Captain Nia's hair was still wet and gleamed in the light of the hotel room as she sat on the bed, watching Eve by the door.
Eve hesitated, unsure what to say. "...Ma'am? Why are you telling me this?"
Nia shrugged. "No reason. I just thought I should introduce myself properly, since you're escorting me and all. I never really had anyone to talk to about girl things growing up. Then this war happened, and…" She looked down at her lap.
…Ah. Eve went silent.
Nia blushed, embarrassed. Heat rose to her cheeks.
"Ah—I didn't mean it that way. It's just—I haven't really been able to talk to anyone in a while."
"..."
Nia sank lower from embarrassment. "Sorry, I made it awkward, didn't I? Please have a good night, sergeant. I'll see you tomorrow."
Eve bowed respectfully by the door. "Please remember to lock up, ma'am. Stay safe while I'm gone. Good night."
"Good night, sergeant."
Eve closed the door.
- - -
{Nia's POV}
Rosemary Nia walked over to the door, locking it and slipping the bolt down after Sergeant Glen had left. She wedged a towel near the entrance as well. Even though the door was airtight and there weren't any spaces, she wasn't going to take any chances.
She then walked over to her bed and fell down, clutching her phone and pillow.
She buried her face into her sheets with a mix of embarrassment, shame, and disappointment.
What the hell was I thinking? I just made it awkward.
There was a deep aching in her heart. After being drafted and even before, she'd practically had no social life. Her family barely kept in touch, and what friends she did ended up moving away and they eventually lost contact.
Rosemary had been so alone that she'd acted without thinking. It was easy to talk when she was in uniform as it helped her keep her facade. She worked with others but didn't get attached.
But the leader of her squad had been escorting her for the entire day. She got to see just how thoughtful and well trained Sergeant Glen was in person.
Who wouldn't want to become friends with such a brilliant person?
Rosemary Nia felt like a fucking mess.
I blew it, she thought. I'm a fucking idiot.
[1] Civies = slang for civilian clothing