June 6, 2007.
The sound of rotor blades from a helicopter could be heard above, heavy and unbroken, shaking the air with each turn.
Outside, the heat pressed down. The land stretched wide, dry and desolate, the horizon burning under the desert sun.
Inside the helicopter, six soldiers sat in silence. Each bore the number 6 stitched into the badge on their sleeve, black rifles resting across their arms, their eyes fixed forward, waiting.
The helicopter tilted, finally it began to descend. Rotor blades roaring louder as the cabin shook.
Below, the outline of a military basecamp spread wide. Green tents lined up, walls of stacked sandbags forming barriers against the desert.
They lowered further, shadows stretching across the camp as soldiers moved below, their eyes fixed upward, waiting for the arrival.
"Thank you for your service at Astana, Captain Ethan." A woman stepped forward, clipboard in hand, boots crunching against the sand as Ethan stepped off the cabin.
"Lieutenant Laurence." Ethan removed his helmet, his hand lowering it to his side.
"Your Squadron has done a great job, Captain." She extended the clipboard, her grip firm.
Ethan took it.
"Your next task. It's about Rafa." Laurence released the board into his hand.
Ethan stood still, reading the words as desert heat pressing him.
The squadron sat inside a personnel carrier truck, the vehicle rumbling forward, flanked on both sides by armored convoys and military jeeps.
Ethan leaned against the frame, gazing outward. The city stretched wide, skyscrapers rising against the horizon, the sunset burning purple across the sky, streaks of orange fading into dusk.
They were in the United Arab Republics, a neutral nation working alongside Byson Indonesia.
In front of Ethan Lancaster, sat Finn McBlue. He leaned back, both hands locked behind his head, the truck rattling beneath them.
Finn leaned toward the person beside him, Strix Pember, with a smirk on his face. "Bet you'd fall asleep holding that rifle, Strix."
Strix snorted. "Better than you drooling on your helmet again."
Finn grinned wider. "At least I don't get caught eating like it's a trophy."
Next to Ethan sat Morrow Alpharobet, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Shut up," he muttered coldly, not lifting his head.
Beside Morrow sat Edward Patrickson, his tone steady. "Yeah, keep it down, guys. Don't annoy Renata."
Strix laughed, shaking his head. "Ahh, you're a party pooper, Edward."
Renata Hantson sat beside Strix, her pistol in hand, magazine sliding into place. She stayed silent, the only woman of Squadron No. 6, her focus unbroken as the teasing circled around her.
Finn turned to Strix, grinning. "Bet Renata's pistol gets more love than you ever will, Strix."
Strix laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, she's saving that attention for me. Right, Renata?"
Renata stayed silent, stripping the pistol down piece by piece, her focus locked on the weapon.
Finn smirked. "Come on, Renata, have you even ever smiled at anyone before, or just that pistol...?"
Edward Patrickson raised his voice, soft but firm. "Enough. Don't annoy her more."
Finn ignored him, leaning closer. "I'm just saying, she's got that cold charm."
Strix chuckled. "Yeah, makes her even more elegant."
Renata reassembled the pistol in silence, her hands quick, precise. Then—
Pshieeww! She fired a single shot into the truck floor
The blast echoed. Finn and Strix froze, their grins gone, both stammering apologies. "I'm so sorry!!" Said at the same time
Ethan laughed, shaking his head. He turned to Morrow, still cold and staring at the floor. "Why are you always so cold?"
Morrow adjusted his sleeve badge, his tone flat. "Because someone has to be."
Ethan let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "That's got to be the most forced line I've ever heard, Morrow. You should do an audition for becoming a statue."
Morrow lift his head. "Like you'd do it better." Ethan smiled, letting the jab slide off him.
"Greetings, Representatives of the Allies," said His Excellency President Khalid Al‑Zain, his words echoing across the auditorium.
The squadron sat in the very back rank. Khalid spoke of cooperation with the Allies, the group that were fighting against the Reds in this cold war.
The United Arab Republics, scarred by past conflict with the Reds, offered oil, military strength, and financial support for the Allies.
Strix leaned toward Finn, whispering jokes under the noise. Edward and Morrow sat still, listening intently.
Ethan didn't really followed the speech, his gaze fixed instead on Renata, who sat beside him, playing with her pistol.
"Yo, Ethan." Sera stood at the front, already waiting for the squadron.
The hall was alive with noise, the banquet of the United Arab Republics crowded with representatives from allied nations. Voices overlapped, glasses clinked, plates filled with food and drinks that were halal.
Ethan stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Long time no see, Sera." They shook hands, the crowd moving around them.
"It's been three months, I suppose." Sera lifted his glass, sipping lemon tea before lowering it.
"Yeah..." Ethan's tone shifted, his posture tightening. "Uhmmm, can I ask you something?"
Sera tilted his head, confused. "What's wrong?"
The night sky was filled with stars, the wind brushing past their ears. The rooftop stood empty, no one there but them.
Ethan stepped closer to Sera. "Why did Rafa gone rogue? You know the reason?"
Sera folded his arms. "One of the documents you brought back after Leningrad was about the Cosmic Beings, right?" He looked at Ethan.
Ethan nodded.
"Do you think Rafa became strange after reading that?" Sera pressed.
Ethan lowered his gaze. "Right... He did become kinda weird after that."
"Exactly. Rafa seemed to have an interest in that theory," Sera continued. "I already told him to stop, because if the theory was right, wouldn't that put Earth in danger?"
"He tried to call them before?" Ethan stared at Sera's eyes.
Sera nodded slowly. "Yeah, I heard him muttering some kind of mantra or whatever."
Ethan's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing.
Sera took a breath, his tone steady. "Look, Rafa wasn't just curious. He was obsessed. That document probably lit something in him. He kept chasing it, like he wanted proof those Beings were real. And if he really believed he could reach them..." Sera shook his head. "I hope he didn't lose it in the head... He even attacked me before, he has become aggressive."
Ethan looked up at the silent sky, the stars burning above them.
"It's alright, Ethan." Sera patted his shoulder.
Ethan exhaled, his posture easing. "Okay, then."
Sera leaned closer. "The mission to chase Rafa has reached your ears, right?"
"Yeah." Ethan's voice was steady now.
"He's last seen boarding an illegal ship to Antarctica. Your squadron takes off tomorrow.Take some rest. This building is a big ass hotel anyway. Sera pressed three keys of six beds in total into Ethan's hand.
"Hey, guys." Ethan approached his squad, finding them scattered around the banquet table, but Renata was nowhere to be seen.
Strix lifted his glass of lemon tea. "What's wrong, Capt?"
Ethan held up the keys. "Sera gave us rooms. Two for two."
Finn slid in quick, throwing an arm around Strix's shoulders. "Well then, let me be with Strix!"
Ethan nodded. "Fair enough."
Edward leaned forward. "I'll be with Morrow."
"Okay," Ethan then looked around the table. "Where's Renata?"
"In the bathroom, maybe." Morrow looked at Ethan.
Ethan pocketed the keys. "Alright."
Ethan lay stretched across the bed, his tight black shirt clinging to his frame, camo long pants still on from the day.
From the bathroom, came the steady rush of water as steam filled the room and fogged the mirror. The sound echoed against the tiles, a faint reminder of Renata presence behind the door.
The bathroom door opened, steam drifting out. Renata stepped into the room, her hair damp, droplets sliding down her body.
She walked to the bed, picking up her folded clothes beside Ethan, the same black shirt and camo pants again and began to dress.
Ethan didn't glanced at her. "You used the bathroom too much."
"I didn't know we'd have a room anyway." Renata pulled the shirt over her shoulders, then fastening the pants. Her voice was calm.
Ethan shifted on the bed, he looked at her eyes. "Next time, don't get dressed in front of a man," he said with a low voice, not sharp but carrying weight.
Renata paused, then continued to fastening her belt, her eyes turned from his gaze. The steam from the bathroom still clung to her hair, droplets sliding down her cheek.
He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's not about me judging you. It's about respect, for yourself. You deserve that, Renata."
Renata pulled her boots closer, sliding them on without a word. The silence stretched, but Ethan's tone stayed calm, firm, never mocking.
"You're strong, and everyone knows it," Ethan continued. "But strength isn't just about the pistol in your hand. It's about how you carry yourself. Don't let anyone think less of you."
Renata brushed past his words. "You talk too much." She sat down beside him, the mattress bending under her weight.
Ethan leaned back against the wall, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. He didn't press her, letting the silence stretch between them.
Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, the faint scent of soap still lingering. She busied herself with the pistol again, sliding the magazine in and out, checking the chamber, moving with precision.
Ethan tilted his head toward her. "What pistol even is that?" His voice was curious now, softer than before.
Renata snapped the slide back into place, her eyes looked at Ethan. "I made it myself."
"What did you name it?" He looked at the pistol.
Renata rotate the pistol, her fingers brushing the steel. "N9."
Ethan then shifted, leaning to her "Have you ever think that you got ADHD or something? You seemed always busy with that pistol."
Renata's hands paused for a moment, then she set the weapon down beside her. "It reminds me of someone." she said coldly, carrying a weight underneath it.
Ethan studied her in silence, the room heavy with her words, the hum of the city outside pressing against the windows.
The sunrise cut through the tall windows, streaks of gold spilling across the room.
Ethan stirred first, his eyes opening to the quiet glow. Beside him, Renata still slept, her breathing steady, her hair spread across the pillow.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his face, and stretching his shoulders, before stepping into the bathroom.
He twisted the door knob, and burst of water coming down from the showerhead, relentless cold. Droplets struck his skin like needles, the chill biting into his muscles.
The bathroom door opened, Ethan stepped out, fully clothed in his tight black shirt and camo pants, his hair damp from the cold shower.
He then glanced toward the bed. Renata was sitting in there, her posture straight, eyes fixed on the window. The sunlight poured across her face, catching the sharp line of her expression.
He adjusted his sleeves, watching her for a moment. "Are you going to use the bathroom?" His voice was calm.
Renata didn't answer. She rose from the bed, walked past him without a glance, and closed the door behind her.
Water rushed again, this time warm. Steam filled the bathroom, curling upward, fogging the mirror as droplets struck tile in a softer rhythm than before.
Ethan crossed the room and sat down on the bed, waiting in silence.
The sound of water carried faintly from the bathroom, then stopped. A moment later, the door opened.
Renata stepped out, fully clothed now, her damp hair falling across her shoulders.
Ethan rose, a smile breaking across his face. He walked closer to her, his boots pressing against the floor.
"Let's meet the rest," he said.
The truck rumbled down the road, its tires grinding against the gravel and sand.
Ethan sat near the backside, sunlight flashing across his face as the city faded behind them. Renata was beside him, silent, her eyes fixed on her pistol.
The rest of the squad filled the benches, their rifles rested against at their feet. The hum of the engine drowned out their voices, leaving only the sound of the ride.
Dust rose behind the vehicle, horizon stretching wide until the outline of the military basecamp appeared. Fences, watchtowers, and the faint silhouettes of soldiers moving along from the far.
The truck slowed, its brakes screeching, and the squad jumped off the truck.
The squad gathered inside the tent, faint smell of fuel carry along. Folding chairs scraped against the ground as they settled in.
At the front stood Lieutenant Laurence. She adjusted the projector, its beam cutting through the dim light, throwing maps and coordinates across the tent wall.
Her voice was steady. "Your mission is simple in words, brutal in execution. Antarctica. Rafa is out there somewhere. You are to locate him, track him, and take him. Do not underestimate the terrain, it will fight you back harder than any man."
Images flickered, satellite shots of ice fields, marked routes, the ship Rafa had boarded. Laurence pointed them. "This is where he was last seen. Expect storm. Try to move with precision, or you don't move at all."
She turned off the projector. "You take off at noon. Gear up, rest until then. Brief dismissed."
The squad sat at a long steel table under the open sky, the air calm without dust and strong winds.
Platters of Arabian breakfast dishes were spread across the center. Warm khubz flatbread stacked high, bowls of ful medames simmered with olive oil, plates of shakshuka with eggs poached in spiced tomato sauce, and small dishes of labneh drizzled with honey. Steam rose faintly, carrying the scent of cumin and garlic.
Ethan sat at the edge, beside beside him was Strix and Finn, he reached for a piece of flatbread, tearing it with his hands before scooping into the ful.
Across from him, Renata cut into the shakshuka with a steel spoon, sliding the egg yolk across the sauce, while Edward and Morrow passed down a tray of grilled halloumi. The noise of eating was calming, the clatter of sporks and knives echoing lightly in the morning air.
Finn leaned forward, using his fork to pile labneh onto bread, while Strix sliced through sausage with a short knife, the juices spilling onto his plate.
Ethan chewed slowly, his eyes scanning the squad as they ate, the quiet moment of breakfast before the mission.
Renata lifted her spoon again, tasting the sauce, her expression unreadable as sunlight caught the edge of her face.
Next to a tent, Edward tightened the straps on his pack, checking the rifle sling. "You sure you packed enough rounds?" he asked, glancing at Morrow.
Morrow smirked, sliding a magazine into place. "I packed more than you'll ever shoot. Don't worry about me."
Edward shook his head, pulling a knife from its sheath to test the edge. "Copy that."
Finn was leaned against the truck, watching them. "You two sound like rookies" he said, grinning.
Edward shot them a look. "Well, let's see who freezes first. Bet it's you, Finn."
Strix chuckled, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Nah, Ethan probably will be the one that freezes to death cause he'll get lost staring at his compass."
Ethan smiled, stepping closer, his gear already strapped tight. "You all talk too much," he said lightly, but his tone carried authority.
Renata finally spoke, her voice calm, cutting through the chatter. "Shut up. The storm won't care about y'all jokes anyway."
The squad quieted because her words hanging heavy. Ethan glanced at her, smiling in agreement.
Renata adjusted her scarf, eyes sharp. "We will move at noon. Don't waste any time."
"Finally the hot babe talks!" Finn smiled, joking it off.
Suddenly roar of engines cut through the air, deep and loud.
The squad turned their heads as the private jet's turbines spun up, the sound rattling across the basecamp.
"Oh, shit! Are we going to be in that?" Strix asked, half‑laughing, half‑nervous, eyes wide at the private jet waiting on the runway.
"Enjoy your trip, Squadron No. 6," said Laurence, her arms crossed.
#11 End.