Seeing my approach, the guard outside Mom's office opened the door before I even got close enough, without a word.
Mom's office smelled like wax, old wood, and ink, warm without being soft. A long window cut the dusk into a clean rectangle. Shelves held ledgers and folded standards. The Draig crest hung above a low hearth that wasn't lit.
Stacy sat at a table too large for her frame but way too small for the amount of paperwork on it. She didn't look up right away. She finished whatever report she was busy with before she acknowledged my existence.
"Kitsuna," she said, looking up at me while she grabbed a paper from under her desk.
"Good morning."
"Sit," she added, nodding toward the simple chair opposite her desk.
I sat.
"I heard you joined in with some drills this morning," she said.
"Well yeah, got to keep the muscles loose."
"Hmmm, and what do you think about them? You haven't seen them in a long time," Stacy said with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, they seem useful enough."
"Don't give me that."
"Fine, they are good. They have improved more than I thought. And, well, they are better and stronger than I thought they would actually be."
"Why are you surprised about it? You were the one who told us about the methods."
"Yeah, and I am a child that doesn't know this world as deeply as you do, Mother."
"That's good, but now the one problem."
"Hmm," I said, tilting my head at her.
Her mouth thinned. "You don't see a problem."
"I'm comfortable with them," I said. "I'm comfortable with who they are when they are allowed to be themselves and not just ranks."
"Your comfort," she said, "is not the right thing to go by."
"They're not fragile," I said. "They function. They maintain their integrity. They go home. That is the outcome."
"Are you protecting them quite a bit?"
"I'm their captain. That is something I should do."
"You are sheltering them, not protecting them."
I went quiet here because, well, I know their inner relationships are a major problem. Something like that shouldn't happen in any military structure.
"Remember your words years ago in this mansion?"
"What words?"
"There must always be war so that a knife never gets dull."
"I am sure those weren't my words."
"Close enough. But you understand what I mean, right?"
"Yes, the Black Ops have trained for this situation, but they have become too comfortable during peacetime."
"…"
"Obviously, that includes my squad."
"Good. Now that you know, let's get things going. Tell me how you will improve them."
"Well, I first need to know how they act on a mission. And no, the mission they were on when I found them does not count."
"Better," she said. "You missed one."
"Which?"
"You," she said. "What you do to them when you stand near them is significant. Your presence is a solvent. It dissolves hesitation. It also dissolves the habit of thinking about you. They look left and right for teammates. When they can't see an answer, they look forward to you. That is good while you stand there. It is dangerous when you cannot."
"You say that, but I have not been there for months. But if you want them to feel the pressure more, I can step back and let them lead while I follow."
"Yes, and you will be doing that," she said. "Because for the next assignment, you are to observe only."
I went still. "Clarify."
"Brenda will command," Stacy said. "You will make no calls unless the floor opens up under them. You will not lead from the front. You will not snap a decision out of her mouth. You will watch them work and see what your presence does to them. You're still Captain."
"You know I don't care about rank, but why this?" I said.
"Two reasons," she answered. She held up one finger. "First: this next mission will be harder than they expect, and I need to see where they struggle the most. Second: you aren't fit to lead by impulse right now. Your veins are still in recovery. Your healing will bail you out, but it will not be able to save them. Observation protects them from your bad habit of carrying everyone by yourself, and it will also show you what they've learned in your absence."
"Shit, so no big things or fast-moving stuff," I said.
"I'm asking you to be a professional," Stacy said with a kind smile on her lips.
"Sigh, right, so what's the mission?"
"Dead Forest. Northeast of it."
"Hmm, that's a bit close to the mountain in the north," I said, remembering Granny's warning about those mountains.
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry. What will we be doing there?"
"We'll be exploring ruins, which are more prominent than actual dungeons." There's an old vault under the rauins in that location. Some intel says it has a time device inside it. I don't care whether that is true. I care that the Federation thinks it might be true and is sending people to the location. But that's where your squad comes in. You guys need to go find whatever it is and extract it."
"How are we getting there?"
"By walking, you buffoon. You know how expensive it was to extract you inside the forest the other day."
"Money?"
"I will sell my fucking vault to save you, and you know it, so don't bring this up. I am stating that you will not be able to fly in with the aircraft, okay?"
"Routes?" I asked, ignoring her glare.
"Approach from the west mountain. You have the high ground as you descend toward the ruins," she said, sliding a thin slate map across the desk.
"That sounds good and all, but what if the Federation is already there? They will probably be in this trench already waiting for us from below. High ground is only that nice if you are coming in by surprise," I explained, already knowing Mom had the answer for this.
"The Federation won't be there yet; they have to cross five to six mountains before reaching the one you will be crossing."
"Ah, well, time will be tight, and they will probably be there when we come out. When does this mission start?"
"You move in three hours," she said. "The Dead Forest doesn't wait for us for anything. You will still have the sun up by the time you come back."
Are you saying that the Federation is already on the move, even though you just gave the briefing?
"Yes, but they will only be small teams at best. There won't be any heavy units coming your way."
"Hmm, good way to show me the cracks in the squad, I see."
"Yes," she said. "I intended it to be hard for them but not hard enough that one of them might die. It's better to learn than die," Mom explained.
"Well, that's one thing that I can handle easily."
"Yeah, I wish all the briefings were this easy."
Putting our mission papers away, Stacy took out another document before sighing in annoyance.
"Hmm, nobles?"
"The nobles are restless," she said.
"Politicians are normally like that," I said.
"They're louder now," she said. "We've recalled the Black Ops detachments they rented as household guards. They're calling it a breach of contract. While it's for their sake we did it, we need to protect the border, not them."
"Oof, who is complaining more?" I asked.
"House Varis," she said. "They built an entire wing of their estate specifically to host one of our teams for dinner. They want their ornaments back."
"If they wanted to spend money like that, send them statues of the soldiers," I said.
"That would have been funny, but they prefer living ones," she said with a small chuckle.
She set the letters aside. "Your sister is the one taking most of the shit, so I can't really complain," Mom explained with sympathy in her voice.
I angled my head. "She's… what?"
"Exactly what I said," Stacy answered. The corners of her mouth softened slightly in response to my confusion. "She is ours, and the Black Ops represent us in the court while all the nobles shout and complain."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Is she alright?"
"She's working," Stacy said. "She is also angry, which helps her deal with old men and papers. "Don't worry. She has a lot of time off to calm herself down before she kills them. Most of the time, she spends her time with Nekro and Apricot, which helps her feel better. Don't read that as a report. Read it as a mother's observation."
"Haha, and I will read it as a sister," I said, grinning to myself.
As Stacy turned another paper, her expression shifted to one of longing.
"Dean is consolidating from the capital. Logistics, provisioning, and training schedules for a war the king intends to observe from a safe distance."
"The king is stepping back," I said, not surprised. He was, after all, a mother's boy.
"Yeah, the fucker stepped back, but publicly he isn't going anywhere."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, publicly, it is stated that he was put on a chair to make the final decisions while Dean was running everything. However, as we know, Dean has the final authority to make decisions. The other nobles know this, but they are still trying to get the king to step in on certain things."
"Ugh, that just sounds annoying all around."
"So Dean is the Daragon general in command and the final warlord. Oh, that sounds like another annoyance for me. Poor Dean."
"Dean has it," she said. "If there's a failure, it won't be for lack of preparation. It will be because a thing no one planned for walked in, or because someone sold us for the price of a rumor."
"You have suspects."
"I have a list," she said, sighing again. She continued. "I like my lists better when they're short. And right now, it is too short. So remember for the future, we have ideas but no proof, so don't expose things recklessly."
"Understood," I said.
"You also need to make sure your squad doesn't expose anything about this mission."
"Sure, I will do my best."
"You better."
She reached for a small wooden case on the desk and slid it toward me. "Tools. They might be needed for opening the vault in the ruins."
I rested my hand on the case. "Thanks."
"Remember properly, you have your mission and your squad has theirs," she said, with a motherly loving smile or a general smile. They both looked scary, so yeah.
Her gaze drifted to the window. The sun was finally up and about. It was now a full morning worth being awake for.
We stood up, looking at each other. She didn't come around the desk to give me a hug or anything, but her eyes told me everything. She was worried not only for me but also for Amari as well. We kids were thrown into something this big so early in our lives.
"I know you think your silence was strategy," she said, circling back without warning. "For three weeks, I signed papers that used words like 'presumed' because you didn't want to be found. Don't ask me to do that again."
"I won't," I said, nodding.
"Keep your squad focused. Keep your distance enough to see what they do, but be there enough that they notice you and think about you. Don't distract them, and bring them back."
"Yes."
"Last thing, one of the shadow teams will tail you as far as the outer rim. If something goes wrong beyond planning, they will come take you out by force. If the situation becomes too dire, extract yourself and avoid engaging with them.
"… I will think about it."
"I will take that. Dismissed," Stacy said, sitting down again and going back to work.
I picked up the case and stepped back from the desk. My chair didn't scrape. The door latch didn't protest. I paused with my hand on the handle because there was a thing left I should say, and not saying it would turn into a weight I'd carry into the trees.
"Thank you," I said.
"For what?" Her voice stayed neutral.
"For waiting for me."
"Like I said, don't do it again."
"Yes, Mother."