After weeks spent learning, analyzing, and dissecting every member of her squad, Lucia was finally ready to lead her first mission with this band of misfits. The briefing room hummed with the shuffle of papers and the echo of boots on tile. Maps lay scattered across the meeting table, red circles marking zones far beyond familiar soil.
Seated at the head, Lucia studied the documents with the same sharp focus she devoted to every task. The room held its breath, broken only by the steady tap of her pen and the low, uneasy breathing of the soldiers across from her, each of them well aware of what might follow the silence behind those golden eyes.
Lucia Castella stood at the head, arms folded, her golden eyes locked on the intelligence files projected on the wall. "We deploy in twenty-four hours. Destination: Velmor, northern range. Our mission is reconnaissance and recovery. Expect resistance." Her voice was steady, clipped, unshakable.
The team leaned in. Sergeant Thomas Ward scribbled notes with his usual methodical care, leaning back in his chair, smirked like danger was just another drinking buddy.
And then there was Orion Rossi, sprawled in his seat like he was born to make the room his stage. His silver hair caught the sterile light, green eyes glinting with mischief as he flicked through his dossier.
"Foreign soil, high stakes, little intel." His grin widened. "Just the way I like my vacations."
The soldiers chuckled, but Lucia didn't. She cut him a sharp look. "This isn't a vacation, Sergeant. Pack like you mean it or don't bother coming back."
Silence held for a beat. Then Orion leaned forward, his grin softening, sharpening. "Oh, I'll come back. I'd hate to miss watching you try to keep me in line."
Ward nearly choked on a laugh. Someone muttered about Rossi having a death wish. Most just watched in silence, curious to see how long their lieutenant's patience would last.
Lucia didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she tapped the map with her pointer. "Ward, you'll oversee comms and tech. Callahan, transport. Walker, supply chains. Rossi…" she let the pause drag, her eyes sliding back to him, "…you're on point. You like the danger? You'll walk straight into it."
That shut the room up. Even Orion's grin faltered, just for a second. Then he sat up straighter, shoulders squaring, and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
The barracks were heavy with the smell of oil and polish. Lucia stood at the long metal table, checking her rifle with the same sharp focus she gave to every task. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic click of the bolt sliding back and the faint clatter of ammunition being stacked into magazines.
Orion, seated across from her, wasn't nearly as silent. "You know," he said, flipping a knife idly in one hand, "this will be my first time out of the country since training. Should I start practicing my 'bonjour' now, Lieutenant?"
Lucia's golden eyes flicked up, unimpressed. "We're not tourists, Rossi. Keep your head where it belongs."
Across the table, Sergeant Ward —their third— let out a low chuckle as he adjusted the straps on his vest. "Better hope he listens this time, ma'am. Otherwise, I'll have to drag his ass back myself."
Orion smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Don't worry about me, Sarge. I'll be the picture of discipline."
Lucia arched an eyebrow. "That'll be a first."
The tension hung there for a moment, sharp as glass, until Ward broke it with a grunt. He dropped his packed bag by the door, the sound echoing through the room.
"Doesn't matter how we feel about each other right now. Once boots hit foreign soil, we move as one. Orders are simple: recon, extraction, exfil. No slip-ups."
Lucia finally set her weapon down, inspecting both men with a steady gaze. Her voice was low, controlled but it carried a weight neither Orion nor Callahan could ignore.
"You heard him. This isn't training anymore. We're stepping into someone else's backyard, and they'll be watching every shadow. Stay sharp. Watch each other's backs."
Orion gave a mock salute, but his eyes softened for a moment, lingering on her. "Always, Lieutenant."
Lucia didn't answer—she simply shouldered her pack, the leather straps creaking against her uniform. The mission briefing was still hours away, but in that small room, beneath the hum of flickering lights, the three of them already felt the weight of the world pressing in.
And somewhere deep down, Lucia knew this mission would test them not just as soldiers, but as something more fragile, something harder to guard than their own lives.
The preparations bled into the night. Weapon checks, gear inspections, logistics nailed into place with Castella's surgical precision. She walked the line in the hangar, every crate and rifle under her scrutiny. The others grew restless under her gaze. Except Rossi, who trailed her path like a shadow.
"Don't you ever relax, Lieutenant?" he asked as she checked his rifle, his voice a low hum.
Lucia didn't look up. "Relaxation gets people killed."
"And all that ice doesn't crack?" His smirk was there again, dangerous and warm.
She handed the rifle back, their fingers brushing for a fraction of a heartbeat. Long enough for the weight of it to register. His grip tightened just slightly, deliberate, daring her to pull away.
Her golden eyes flicked to his, cool and unwavering. "Not for you to test."
He leaned in just enough for her to hear over the echo of engines warming. "Then who's allowed to, Lieutenant? Someone back home?"
Lucia's expression didn't flinch but her voice cut like glass. "My personal life isn't in your briefing packet, Sergeant."
"Shame," Rossi said, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'd read every page."
She took a measured step past him, her boots sharp against the hangar floor. "Try focusing on the mission instead. That'll keep you alive."
Rossi fell into step behind her, still grinning. "Don't worry. I plan on surviving, if only to see how long it takes me to melt that ice of yours."
Lucia didn't turn. "Careful, Rossi. Some ice burns."
For once, he didn't reply. Just laughed under his breath. Low and quiet, like he enjoyed the danger.
Engines roared to life as the last of the cargo was hauled aboard. The mission loomed. A foreign land, unknown threats and a team still learning the weight of each other's shadows.
For now, all they had was preparation. And the growing storm between their lieutenant and her sergeant.