Chapter 1

1

ROS

T he rumble of engines filled the air as the convoy rolled through the gates of Fort Independence. The base sprawled across a mountainous valley, thick pines enclosing it at one end. The sky was so close, a cold crystal blue. General Rosalind Carson sat in the lead vehicle; her expression set in a familiar, stern mask that had long since become second nature over her illustrious career. Her sharp gray eyes scanned the base as they rumbled past rows of barracks, training grounds, and milling soldiers. A new command, a new challenge?

The convoy rolled to a halt outside the front of the command center, a sturdy, utilitarian building nestled in the heart of the base. Cold mountain air greeted Ros as she stepped from the vehicle, brisk and unforgiving, much like the reputation she had built for herself over the years. Tugging at her lapels, she straightened her uniform to get rid of any creases formed over the long journey. It would not do to appear scruffy when making first impressions.

She took a moment to survey her surroundings; the base was larger than she'd expected. She knew it was a critical outpost in the region and its location was of strategic importance, but all that information would do nothing to actually prepare her for the work needed.

Awaiting her was a small group of senior officers standing at attention; their postures were rigid and expressions carefully blanked, but Ros could see a hint of caution. She knew what they were concerned about; stories of her rigidity had undoubtedly preceded her. It was no matter. She had never been one to concern herself with what others thought. Her job was to command, lead, and ensure the success of any missions that came their way. If her officers obeyed orders, they had nothing to worry about.

As she approached the officers, one stepped forward and saluted. The eagle pinned to his collar marked him as Colonel Hale, the highest ranking officer under her new command. He was a tall man in his late forties with a square jaw and serious demeanor. His eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness as he met Ros's gaze.

"General Carson, welcome to Fort Independence," he said, his voice steady. "I trust your journey was uneventful. We're honored to have you here."

"Thank you, Colonel." She saluted with precision. "I trust everything is in order?"

"Yes, ma'am. We've prepared a briefing on the base's current operations, as requested."

Ros nodded. That was a good start. There was little time to waste on pleasantries, and she would much rather dive straight into the work.

"Well, then, let's get to it. Lead the way."

Without further ado, the officers led her inside the command center. The interior was as utilitarian as the exterior: steel-gray walls lined with maps, screens displaying real-time data, and a large table in the center of the room for briefings. Desks lined the walls, each with three to four monitors. As Ros entered the room, the techs popped up their heads and scrambled to stand and salute. "At ease, soldiers. Don't let me distract you from your work." Ros took her seat at the head of the table, the other officers quickly falling into place around her.

Colonel Hale began the briefing, outlining the base's primary objectives: monitoring insurgent activity in the surrounding region, coordinating supply routes, and maintaining the security of the nearby civilian population. Ros listened intently, her mind already running through strategies, potential weaknesses, and areas for improvement. She interrupted only to ask pointed questions, her tone sharp and direct, cutting through any unnecessary detail.

"The most pressing issue we're facing, General, is the increasing activity of insurgents in the mountains to the north," Hale explained, pointing to a cluster of red markers on the map. "They've been using the terrain to their advantage, making it difficult for us to track and engage them effectively."

Ros leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she examined the map. "And what's our current counterinsurgency plan?"

"We've been conducting regular patrols and aerial surveillance, but the results have been mixed," Hale admitted, glancing at his colleagues for support. "Our resources are stretched thin, and the insurgents seem to be getting bolder."

Ros considered this information, her mind racing. This was exactly the kind of challenge she had expected: complex with high stakes requiring a firm hand. "We'll need to increase our intelligence operations. If they're recruiting locals, we need to know who, where, and how. We need to know how prepared they are. Their equipment, numbers, and artillery. I want our best people on this. And double the aerial surveillance. I'll personally review the patrol routes and adjust them as necessary."

"Yes, ma'am," Hale replied, taking notes.

The briefing continued much the same, each officer presenting the current numbers, state of their troops, and any issues they faced in personnel, training, or supply. It was mostly what she'd expected: recruitment was over, supplies were low, and morale was jittery with insurgents so close to the base.

A clear voice cut through her thoughts.

"Captain Bennett, company of four platoons."

Ros focused on the speaker, a young woman with auburn hair tied neatly back in a bun and warm hazel eyes. She knew from reading the files that Captain Scarlett Bennett was a recent transfer and was highly regarded at her last posting as a rising star shooting up through the ranks.

She waved for the captain to continue.

"Troops appear to be adjusting to the new command well. My engineers have reported some potential issues, and having reviewed them, my primary concern is the integrity of the base's communications infrastructure.

"The harsh conditions up here take a toll on our equipment, and with the recent increase in insurgent activity, we can't afford any weak links. We've already begun upgrading the main communication lines, but it's a work in progress. We need funding and equipment to continue."

Ros listened carefully, noting the earnestness of Scarlett's report. There was something about the captain that commanded attention—not just her intelligence and competence, but the way she held the room and the way she spoke with such certainty. Ros found herself intrigued, an unexpected spark of admiration flickering in her chest. She quickly pushed the thought aside and refocused.

"Captain Bennett, having reviewed base reports prior to my arrival, your assessment is accurate," Ros said, her tone neutral but approving. "Prioritize those upgrades and coordinate with Colonel Hale to ensure that all essential systems are fully operational. I want a status report by the end of the week."

"Yes, ma'am," Scarlett replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Ros watched as she quashed the smile, a blank expression coming over her face.

She must have been nervous requesting that after only recently arriving herself. Well, at least I know one officer is interested in the good of their soldiers more than the game of politics.

Ros had never been able to respect those who rose through the ranks by stepping on those beneath them.

With the briefing concluded, Ros stood, signaling the end of the meeting. " Thank you, officers. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Dismissed."

As the officers filed out, Ros lingered for a moment, her mind already spinning with plans and strategies. But as she glanced toward Scarlett Bennett, who was gathering her materials, Ros couldn't help but feel a flicker of something she hadn't anticipated—a sense of curiosity that caught her off guard.

The sun climbed steadily as General Ros Carson moved through the base. Her quiet, authoritative presence drew eyes wherever they went. Her tour had begun immediately after the briefing; there was no sense in dallying.

As she made her way through each building, she maintained her austere demeanor with the officers, letting a small ghost of a smile play across her face when talking to the boots. She ensured to speak with officers, NCOs, and soldiers alike, each interaction brief but intentional. Ros knew that the troops rarely trusted new brass; she would have to earn their respect—and understandably so. A bad general would put service members at risk. Ros held the very lives of her soldiers in her hands and while she knew that she would never use them as pawns, her new division had no reason to trust that yet. It would come in time. Her father, who had also been a general, had taught her that a commander's strength came not from their own strategic genius but from understanding the people they led.

At the barracks, she observed the living conditions—spartan but sufficient. In some areas, the heating had obviously malfunctioned as there were space heaters dotted around. Captain Bennett was correct then. There certainly were some infrastructure issues that needed fixing promptly. Space heaters would work as a temporary fix, but her soldiers would not perform at their peak if they were frequently freezing.

The mess hall was orderly, and the kitchens were clean and well stocked. The soldiers seemed disciplined, from what she could observe, and the training areas were well maintained. There was certainly room for improvement, though.

She made a mental note of anything that caught her eye to make a record later. As amusing as it might be, it wouldn't do any good to make her new officers anxious by scrawling on her clipboard the whole time. With how nervous some of them already were about General Carson's arrival, she thought they might have a breakdown if she did that. Perhaps she'd reserve that special treatment for any of them who really ticked her off.

No matter how much she immersed herself in the day's duties, Ros couldn't fully shake the image of Captain Scarlett Bennett from her mind. The captain's confident manner and the way she had held the room during the briefing lingered with her like a shadow she couldn't quite dispel. The fact that she had obviously managed to begin gaining trust from her new company was telling too. Ros got the feeling that Captain Bennett was someone she ought to enjoy working with, someone who held herself to the same high standard that Ros held herself.

As she walked through the engineering sector checking in on the ongoing repairs and future planning, Ros found herself involuntarily comparing every officer and soldier she met to Scarlett. None had the same sharp fire in their eyes. Certainly, none kept themselves as calm when presented with the opportunity to meet with the new general as Bennett had. After the briefing, although the captain had lingered, she didn't make a beeline to introduce herself as others had. Ros had gotten the impression that Scarlett didn't feel the need to ingratiate herself, a quality Ros couldn't stand. Scarlett had impressed her, certainly, but there was something more, a sort of pull that made Ros uneasy.

Pausing in front of a massive satellite dish, Ros watched as engineers worked on calibrating the equipment, their movements precise and coordinated. The captain's voice echoed in her mind, her clear and composed briefing replaying itself like a song on loop. Bennett's slight smile was engraved on the inside of her eyelids. Ros had been around confident officers before, but there was a steadiness to Scarlett, a quiet resolve that Ros couldn't ignore; she just couldn't figure out what it was about her that had captured her attention so completely.

Ros's hand tightened on the edge of the blank clipboard she carried. She had always prided herself on her ability to compartmentalize, to separate her personal feelings from her professional responsibilities. But something about Scarlett was different. Perhaps it was nothing. Or perhaps it has been too long, and she was craving a close connection.

"General Carson?" The voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. It was one of the engineers, a young sergeant with a hopeful expression. "Is there anything specific you'd like us to focus on?"

Ros blinked, refocusing on the task at hand.

"Ensure the primary communication lines are fully operational by the end of the day," she said, her tone all business. "And double-check the backup systems. I don't want any surprises."

"Yes, ma'am," the lieutenant responded, snapping a quick salute before hurrying off to relay her orders.

Ros watched him go, her thoughts still swirling. As she continued her tour visiting the medical facilities, the armory, and finally the command center's tactical operations room, she found herself more and more distracted.

It was late afternoon by the time Ros finished her rounds, the day fading into dusk as she made her way back to her office. The base was alive with activity, soldiers moving about with purpose, vehicles rumbling in the distance, and the hum of generators filling the air. She paused outside her office door, taking a moment to breathe in the crisp air, trying to clear her mind.

But as she stood there, the image of Scarlett Bennett persisted, more vivid than ever. Ros could almost see the captain's confident smile, the way her eyes had held Ros's gaze without flinching. It was a dangerous distraction, one that Ros knew she needed to address, but she couldn't deny the stirrings of something she hadn't felt in a long time.

She shook her head, willing herself to focus. There was work to be done, and she was determined not to let anything—or anyone—distract her from her duty. But as she finally entered her office and sat down at her desk, Ros knew that keeping her thoughts purely professional when it came to Scarlett Bennett was going to be more challenging than she had anticipated.

As the day drew to a close, the vast expanse of Fort Independence began to quiet down. The hustle and bustle of soldiers going about their duties gave way to a more subdued rhythm. The fading sunlight cast long shadows across the base, and the temperature dropped as evening settled in. General Carson found herself alone in her office, the solitude amplifying the weight of her responsibilities.

The office was a mix of the old and the new—a functional space with its steel-gray walls and utilitarian furnishings, but with personal touches that hinted at Ros's long career: framed commendations, a well-worn leather briefcase, and a meticulously arranged desk. As she sat at her desk, the day's events replayed in her mind—each briefing, each interaction, and the steady hum of operations. But amid it all, there was one distraction she couldn't ignore: Captain Scarlett Bennett.

Her mind kept drifting back to her—the captain's confident demeanor, her clear and direct communication, and the unsettling way her eyes had met Ros's. It wasn't just admiration or professional respect. There was a spark there, something more personal, more intense. It was a feeling Ros hadn't experienced in years, one she had no intention of exploring, especially not in her current position.

She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as if to physically push away the thoughts. Her career had been built on maintaining control, on suppressing personal feelings to focus solely on her duties. It was a strategy that had served her well, earning her respect and success in every command she had held. But now, faced with this new and unexpected complication, Ros found herself struggling to maintain that same level of control.

As she reviewed her notes from the day's briefings, her gaze repeatedly fell upon a photograph on her desk: a snapshot from a past mission, a reminder of her years of service. It was meant to ground her and remind her of the larger purpose of her work. But today, it seemed to offer little comfort. The image of Scarlett Bennett kept intruding, vivid and persistent.

Ros sighed, reaching for a stack of reports to review. She tried to immerse herself in the details of logistics and strategy, but her concentration was fragmented. The paperwork became a blur of text and figures, the numbers and charts failing to capture her full attention. She knew she had to stay focused, to keep her emotions in check, but the attraction she felt toward Scarlett was proving to be a formidable challenge.

She stood up abruptly, deciding that a walk through the base might clear her mind. The crisp evening air would be a welcome distraction and perhaps a brief respite from the relentless cycle of her thoughts. As she walked through the quiet corridors and out into the open air, she pulled her coat tighter against the chill, hoping the solitude would offer some clarity.

The base was bathed in the soft pinkish glow of the setting sun, the mountains surrounding it casting long shadows. Ros walked purposefully, her steps echoing in the stillness. She glanced around, taking in the serene beauty of the landscape, a stark contrast to the turbulence within her. The base was functional and efficient, a testament to the hard work of those who served there. It was a place of discipline and dedication, qualities that Ros had always embodied.

Yet, as she looked out over the base, the image of Scarlett—her assured stance, her bright eyes—haunted her. Ros knew she had to keep her distance from Scarlett to prevent these feelings from affecting her judgment. It wasn't just about professionalism; it was about ensuring the effectiveness of her command and the integrity of her decisions.

Back in her office, Ros made a resolute decision. She would maintain her distance from Captain Bennett. The attraction she felt was a dangerous distraction, one that could undermine her authority and cloud her judgment. She would not allow personal feelings to interfere with her responsibilities. The base and her command over it came first.