JiangXi's Trials: Hell's Backyard

[Commissar]

Akira's pen paused mid-stroke as a shadow settled over her work, pen hovering above the paper. A scowl of irritation flashed across her face at the interruption. What were the Militsiya thinking? She had thought her posture had made her intentions perfectly clear. No interruptions. If they couldn't pick up on something as basic, as elementary, as leaving a senior officer alone then they didn't deserve to be out unsupervised, much less aboard a gunboat of the Coalition. Akira itched to rectify that situation. Perhaps Kirov would consent to throw the offending Recruit off the landing ramp. Judging by the terrain flashing by the viewing ports, the fall wouldn't be fatal.

At least, not immediately fatal.

Satisfied at the thought, Akira finally peeled her eyes from the page... And found herself gazing into the ice-blue eyes of Commissar-Major Sasha Kirov. Unusually, for a Coalition Officer, Kirov wasn't pointing a weapon at Akira. Kami, it said something about her mental state that, after a year confined planetside, the first thing she noticed was that no-one had a gun to her head. It was a pleasant change. Another reminder that her life; however little of it she retained, was her own again. And I choose to go to JiangXi...

"What do we have here?" Kirov hovered over her, inclining her head toward the notepad, folded closed in Akira's lap. "Little cheats left by a survivor? Ancient prayers to whatever gods you cling to? Last Will and Testament, just in case we find your body?"

Still, so similar... If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it were another Commissar standing over her two years ago. The Coalition's Recruitment may have changed, but it bought Akira a trickle of satisfaction to see that its officers were as demanding as ever. She would need that determination later. Akira paused, waiting for the answer to come to her. One always did. There was a thrill in competition, in the engagement of wits, and Kirov's words were an invitation to battle. If nothing else, it would take her mind off JiangXi.

"I doubt you would, Major. My body is notoriously difficult to locate at the best of times." Akira's voice was faint and dry, like a desert wind with none of the tranquility. She gestured around the cramped bay, narrowly avoiding scraping the Recruits penning her in. "Perhaps one of these would make a better quarry? It seems Militsonyer Grillix plans to engage the wildlife was his blade."

Akira nodded across the Storm's bay to Jack as the man tweaked his knife's position, her lips curled in a smile that held no warmth. Yes. It seemed to say. I know who you are. And wouldn't you like to know why? She held his gaze for a moment, evaluating him like an insect caught beneath a microscope. Impassive expression, his movements measured, even in the brief time in which she studied him. Every bit the consummate soldier, just like the others surrounding him. Inseparable, indistinguishable. A cardboard cutout of a man. If he could survive JiangXi, and Hispania he might yet become more. Neither she nor the Fighter Corps had a need for the mundane.

Kirov was still looming over her, an ocean of calm in a sea of recruits. Akira shifted her attention back to the Commissar-Major, finally answering her question.
"This." She picked up the thin green book, cupping it in her hands, like an offering to an ancient god. "Is a logbook. A simple thing for such care, hai?"

Time among the Coalition had all but eliminated Akira's native accent, but she still occasionally found herself resorting to Japanese. It was a habit she would have to curb. The logbook listed every battle she had ever fought in, each foe she had dueled and bested. Simple lists of foes, times, and locations. From her days as a racer back on New Tokyo to Partisan patrols alongside General Forge, the little text was the closest thing to a diary she had. Considering her fluctuating status on several police bulletins, it was also likely the most complete record of her identities in Sirius. Without a word, she offered it to Kirov.

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May you live in interesting times.
| Sarah McFarlen | Jane Hartman |