Chapter 2: Gifts

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The door opened and S walked in, holding a small bag. She wore a concerned look on her face, but more surprisingly, she was also sporting a santa hat.

“I thought you may have fallen asleep in your chair again and didn’t want to wake you up.” spoke S, examining the room she had been in many times before as she quietly shut the door behind herself.

“S--You were…I thought you were going to be away! The mission, what happened? Did you accomplish it that quickly?” M ran up to S, clasping the other woman’s hands within her own as she was barely able to control her excitement and surprise, her eyes glowing at her CO.

“I didn’t want to make any promises earlier, which is why I told you I’ll be busy, but I fully intended to complete it as speedily as possible so I can return and spend the night back at base.” S explained, caressing M’s hands with her thumb. An amusing thought ran through S’s head, causing a faint smile to materialize on the young woman’s face.

“Could it be that you were secretly hoping I would pay a visit here?”

This question made M’s heart stop for a moment, likely because of how on the money it was. The younger girl stammered a bit, before clearing her throat and answering earnestly.

“Yes, S. Yes, of course I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and---I feel like I’m a little useless, or just a burden on you, always missing you like this or wanting to be with you.”

“Always?”
”Yes--Almost always, I’d say. Don’t get me wrong. You know better than anyone how proud I am when you’re out there, doing what you must. Even then, I can’t help but…miss you…”

M’s voice became an octave below during the latter part of her sentence, lowering her eyes as she spoke.

“I missed you as well.” replied her darling superior Officer, intertwining their fingers together.

M was feeling a tad overwhelmed. It just was not fair, she thought. One moment she was feeling as if her heart was made out of benign ice, but in an instant that ice seemingly melted, reminding her just how tender her emotions can be. All because of one woman, it was constantly brought to her attention how human she remained; the emotions, that in excess, she would consider weak still clearly existed within her.

M was lost in her cogitation and could only reply by gently pressing her face against her partners shoulder, her breath becoming constrained in correlation with the increase in the pace of her heartbeat.

The already quiet room was overcome with a momentary silence before S finally broke it.

”I’m cold.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

M folded her arms, before resting her right elbow on her left palm and tapping at her chin with her forefinger.

“I can help with that.” she commented, beaming at her dear friend. Lifting her cape up by extending her arms upwards and throwing them around S’s shoulder, consequently blanketing S with her cape, before affectionately pressing up against the taller girl, embracing her tightly.

“There.” said M, a smirk emerging on her face. “Better?”

“Much.” was S’s reply, as she was unable to control the smile that appeared on her face by this action, returning the favour by contracting her arms around M’s waist. Mutually beneficial.

A tender moment shared betwixt two girls, where no prying eyes had a visual to see the uncommon, gentle vulnerability they were displaying to one another.

“What’s that?” questioned M, refocusing her gaze upon the bag S had now placed on a nearby seat. She noticed how it did not seem to be military issued.

“That?” S said, keeping one arm around M’s waist and slowly walking her over to it.

“I picked something up for you during my mission.”

Lifting the bag, she pulled out a spherical glass where the lower half was encased by a flat piece of metal. Within it was lay a delicate looking flower; a purple primula vulgaris, entirely preserved by the special properties of the capsule.

“It--is that…?” M’s eyes widened, her gaze completely fixed upon the enchanting piece of nature.

“You told me that you wanted to see it someday, correct? The moment you had said that…I made it a priority of mine to obtain it for you, one day. Just in time for Christmas, too.”

M was speechless. Covering her mouth, her face began to flush as tears started welling up in her eyes, despite her best efforts to control what she referred to as “the water-works.”

S, being a seemingly eternally understanding friend, remained silent with the intention of allowing M to compose herself. This gesture turned out to be unneeded as M grasped the present within her hands, taking a deep breath and setting it aside.

“That might be---That, besides your presence, is the best gift I’ve ever had the honour of receiving. I don’t…Is It…I cogitate on this often, but is it really acceptable for one person to…be so happy?”

S could not determine if M was looking for an answer to this question or if she was just beginning a short monologue. Regardless, she began formulating a response before M continued.

“I…I don’t have anything nearly as good for you. All I can give you is my sincere thanks, affection and…”

M spoke as she walked over to her writing desk, her cape sliding off of S’s body. Opening a drawer attached to her bureau, she gripped a few papers she had stapled together, eyeing the first page quickly before shutting the drawer with her knee.

M motioned back towards S, straightening herself in front of the other girl, before extending both her arms forward, the papers in her hands.

“For you. It’s a story about us. A really short one, but…I could not stop thinking about you. I put a lot of love into it, perhaps you’ll be able to tell… Attached herewith is another one of our s-songs, transcribed in its original language.”

Delicately taking hold of the short story and transcription, S’s eyes darted over them, a sudden feeling of nostalgia (the origins of which were unknown to her) encompassing her emotions. Unlike M, S did not have to contend with holding back tears by the bequeathed gift. Perhaps the same can not be said, however, when she would later read it, away from M, during another mission.

“I’m very humbled to have you in my life, M…”

S spoke quietly but clearly, momentarily wondering at the extent of M’s affection. She had a difficult time accepting that someone valued her, over countless others, to this degree.

“...I’m feeling cold again, if you don’t mind.”

With that, the two girls were once again in an embrace, having bared their hearts to each other.

I recollected that her eye excelled in brightness, that of any other animal, and that she has no eye-lids—She may therefore be esteemed an emblem of vigilance.—She never begins an attack, nor, when once engaged, ever surrenders: She is therefore an emblem of magnanimity and true courage.—As if anxious to prevent all pretensions of quarreling with her, the weapons with which nature has furnished her, she conceals in the roof of her mouth, so that, to those who are unacquainted with her, she appears to be a most defenseless animal; and even when those weapons are shown and extended for her defense, they appear weak and contemptible; but their wounds however small, are decisive and fatal:—Conscious of this, she never wounds till she has generously given notice, even to her enemy, and cautioned him against the danger of stepping on her.—Was I wrong, Sir, in thinking this a strong picture of the temper and conduct of America?

Benjamin Franklin. The Pennsylvania Journal. 1775.

Chapter 1: Memories

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A harsh, merciless blizzard showered itself upon a military base belonging to the human army, seemingly blanketing the vast infrastructure with a pure white and nearly spotless covering. The structures of the military base were built with impressive precision, leaving no doubt to any observer, although none were currently present, nor would they be in the near future, that this complex was constructed by the ever-efficient forces of humanity.

The complex was an anomaly out in the war-torn landscape, a speck of unaffected territory positioned behind the frontlines within a devastated province. A province which had endured the full brunt of the war between machine and man. The machine lifeforms had been unable to come within any considerable distance to the base, let alone encroach any semblance of an attack upon it.

The reason for this aberration, as there was almost no base or outpost untouched by an attack this far into the combat zone, was not only due to the military might of the forces of humanity, who were fighting a war they were all but set to win (after the initial negative effects of the surprise attacks by the machine lifeforms wore off) but more as a result of a local agent.

The personnel operating from there included the elite special forces, with the Alpha team being commanded by one of the most skilled soldiers and leaders the entire army possessed; codenamed S, an extraordinarily accomplished Officer who had dealt with several battles, obliterating squadrons of machine lifeforms all by herself. Needless to say, the machines would have had to contend with her and her ever-vigilant elite squadron in case they planned any attack, if they were not, as most had been, already wiped out by operations conducted from these special forces.

Perhaps even more of an anomaly than this base which had gone unfazed by the war, were the ongoings within it, during this particular juncture of our story.

It was December 25^th, Christmas time, and the personnel, (these units being mostly young girls), had set up various festive decorations within the barracks. The result of this was the interior of the barrack being something that was almost entirely unseen during the war; a picture of warmth, in stark contrast with the death and destruction outside, perpetuated by the harsh realities of conflict. Still, being creatures of emotions, the lonely soldiers had to chase something resembling happiness every now and then, whatever the ironic implications of such a sisyphean endeavour may imply to the more cynical amongst us.

An even more surprising success than the effortless victories the elite squads had achieved over the machines was that of the jubilation they had somehow achieved, as they huddled up together for warmth, trying their hand at cooking Christmas dinners, or singing with eachother, making silly jokes, watching movies with the limited devices they had for playback, managing to almost forget their sorrows and lost comrades in these short, almost pitiable (but endearing) moments.

S’s righthand woman; an adroit and quiet girl codenamed M, was the one responsible for actualizing these holiday activities during the period of respite they had acquired after months of perpetual combat. Her goal was to provide a boost to the morale of her subordinates. A boost which was not openly asked for, but secretly and fervently hoped for.

She was not, however, taking part in the activities themselves besides an initial presence in order to jumpstart the others, despite planning these silly moments of comfort for her comrades.

M was in her office, a black winter cape draped around herself as she was seated in her chair in front of a large writing desk, gazing down on some material that she had been composing with speedy pen strokes just moments ago.

Perhaps the cold had finally started numbing her, at least enough to divert her focus from whatever she was working on. It was conceivable, although she would never admit it, that she had started yearning for some alleviation to her wistfulness.

The lone soldier from her squad who was still out in the warzone happened to be S. S and M, having served many years together and fighting countless battles with no one else to rely on but eachother, always side by side, were complimentary to each other. The loyalty and devotion M felt for her unit and the forces of humanity were naturally high, as she had a strong propensity towards values such as fidelity and diligence in ones duties. In comparison to the loyalty she had towards S, however, it paled. (Although, it could easily be argued that both loyalties overlapped.)

Such was the ardor of her dedication towards her superior officer.

“I didn’t notice just how cold it was.” mused M, gripping the ends of the front her cape, pulling them towards eachother in an attempt to further shield herself from the chill.

Various voices could be heard enthusiastically talking over one another from outside M’s door, giggling at each other’s jokes and silly antics.

“They sound like they are having fun.”

For a brief moment she considered putting an end to her seclusion and joining them. Instantaneously, she decided against it, primarily due to the reasoning that the only factor making her humour such an event was not on the grounds that she had an earnest desire to join them, since she was feeling particularly withdrawn, but from a feeling of not wanting her propensity towards solitude bring any sort of downpour upon the merriness the others were enjoying.

“It’s Christmas. I shouldn’t force myself to do something I don’t want to. They’re having fun without me, anyways.”

What was it that she wanted to do, she wondered? Sleep sounded like the most appropriate option. M was not one who could afford the luxury of rest very often (in truth, she frequently neglected herself regarding it) and if she would go to bed right now, that would mean that time would pass seamlessly, without her consciousness. Enough time till tomorrow, where she would be able to return to her duties.

“No, that’s not what I want, either.” she ruminated. “That’s too depressing. Just sleeping through Christmas like that. I should at the very least read a book before going to sleep.”

Suddenly, she was struck by an intense shock, almost as though she had been woken up from a dream.
”Why am I worrying so fervently about what I want? I’m alive, the others are enjoying--I should be more grateful.”

She straightened herself while remaining seated, taking her arms out of her cape and opening her desk, rummaging through her belongings before she got a hold of what she was searching for.

It was a picture of S. One M had taken as they were returning to base, right after the completion of a simple reconnaissance mission that the duo had conducted together. S was in high spirits; a warm, beautiful smile on her face with the soft light of the sun gently highlighting her features, a look of affection beaming from her countenance as she held her rifle in her arm.

“I’m so needy.” M thought, softly laughing to herself. Somehow, looking at this picture had caused any sort of melancholy she had been feeling to instantly wash away. “So you’re what I wished was here right now. My brooding is your fault.”

It was an answer that she may have had a feeling about from the beginning. She missed S. More than words or even her own emotions could properly convey.

Pressing the picture against her chest as a happy sigh escaped her mouth, she was once again reminded of what she was eternally grateful for.

M stood to her feet, stretching a bit, as she was about to head to her quarter, gripping the picture which she intended to utilize as a non-addictive sleep aid. Suddenly, her door began creaking open as if someone were trying to peer into her office, as the light from outside illuminated a considerable deal of it. This moment only lasted a few seconds, in which she had prayed the individual opening her door was S, immediately felt idiotic for such a hope, successfully subdued any such expectations and then questioned and offered. “Who is it? Come in.”