If Mahan Could See Us Now

Your name is Starshi-Leytenant Valentina Mikhailova, and you have spent the last six weeks in hospital recovering from a gunshot wound gifted to you by an assassin from the revolutionaries you had betrayed to state security services. Christmas and New Year have both passed you by in isolating boredom despite the visits from Nikita, Yakatarina and your saviour of a neighbour with fresh bread and sweet treats and promises that they were taking good care of your animals. Her name was Sasha and she'd served with the Fourth Kevian Lancers. She was, in your opinion, one of the best people you'd ever met who'd joined the Army.

Slipping your uniform back on for the first time in nearly two months was the strangest experience you'd had since, well, since you'd been shot. It was the longest you'd gone without wearing it since you'd joined up and suddenly it felt stiff and uncomfortable rather than like a second skin.

But perhaps the biggest surprise of the whole experience was what waited for you when you finally returned to your little office. Sadly it was not your long missed Bo'sun, but there was a bowl of fruit and traditional Kevian cakes and a warm welcome from some people you'd never expected to give you the time of day after your foray into providing the Zaschita with intelligence. Unteroffizier Nikolaev, Cox'sun Vorlov, Gardemarin Alexeev, all gave you their respect for the first time in months. It was strange, but gratifying in a way. Even better but one morning you came in to find Marina curled up in your seat and desperate for a scratch under the chin.

You expected the newfound acceptance would disappear in a few days but a month passed and they were still saying good morning, offering assistance, being a pleasure to work with. Even the terribly stressful paperwork slows down as the military is stood down when it becomes clear that Caspia isn't about to declare upon everyone they share a border with. The war with Akitsukini rages across the winter period but from everything you hear (and from the few reports sent back by observers on the front) little progress is being made. The reports of somewhat decisive naval engagements are a little more worrying, if only for the balance of power in Europa.

The balance of life in Europa was not the only thing that was shifting. Sasha had started knocking on your door most afternoons you were in, bringing seed for the bird or treats for the cats or Knish for you to share. Apparently she had decided that she was going to take you under her wing as your recovered and that meant you were spending a hell of a lot more time together than you'd ever expected.

You weren't complaining. She was a rough-hewn slab of firm muscle with the scars to match and a voice that spoke of too many cigarettes smoked on cold front lines even though she had yet to reach forty years of age. She was popular with the cats, who liked to lie in her lap and make you wish you could do the same. Which was very unfair. You were glad of the company but frustrated at the same time.

Once, and only once, you'd fallen asleep talking to her in your living room and woken up to her carrying you to your bed. It was a very good memory.

It was an afternoon like many others when everything changed. You were sitting reading a newspaper, revelling in the silence as Sasha gently scratched Maria under the chin next to you. It was idyllic in a peculiarly personal way.

There is a faint pop, distant and quiet, followed by a rattle. Another and then, sporadically, it becomes constant. You barely notice but Sasha goes stiff, head up with eyes closed to listen better. You're quiet for a long minute until you just have to ask.

"What-"

"Shh," She says, finger on her lips, listening for another moment, "That's gunfire."

"It must be the port." You're worried. If someone has launched a surprise attack, then you're in absolutely the least useful place you could be.

"It's closer. Much closer."

What are we thinking?
[ ] It must be an attack. I best stay put to be safe.
[ ] It must be an attack. I have to get to the port.
[ ] If it's an attack then the safest place is out of the city.
[ ] Write in.