We were sharp. As sharp as knives.

In the absence of sound, the mind often fills the void. It starts as white noise, a sonic dissonance that forms a canvas suitable for other sounds to build on. The first thing she heard was the tinny, throaty hum of the repulsor drives. It grew and grew in volume, becoming oppressive. The only thing that broke the monotony were sounds very close to her. The clacks and bangs of metal on metal, tell-tale signs of the cross-trail turbulence a skyship made when it banked in formation.

In the absense of sight, the memories come rushing in. She was back on Thalassia. She'd left years ago, but she'd never really gone away. You could see it in the trees of Ossus, even if those trees were smaller and more parched. It gripped her then and never left her once, the duality of safety and menace of trees. What you could use to conceal yourself could also conceal the Enemy. Unlike Ossus, the trees of Thalassia were legion. The rain-glutted biosphere grew them thick and tall, so that they choked out nearly every patch of tenable earth. The few places the trees feared to tread revealed ugly patches of waterlogged grey dirt. If not for the green of the trees, there would be nothing but shades of grey. Grey clouds pregnant with rain, choppy opaque grey rivers, and the relentless assault of grey dirt and drying grey mud that caked over proud crimson.

Grey uniforms. Grey faces. Dead faces, but so easy to remember when they were alive, because they were so very alive. Young and strong and proud and honed to a lethal edge, uncaring which way they were thrust into the fight. Reckless but afraid and unwilling to show it, because they all were a little crazy and afraid.

The skyship shook and a hiss rattled the air, as every pair of eyes in the cabin followed the light grey contrails of high explosive rockets on their way down to the trees at the rivers edge. Halos of concussive force cracked over the landscape as half a hectare of timber came down in splinters. A mighty display from the Jaani'saarri, who ruled the sky. But the Thalassians ruled the forest below. To win, they had to go where the Enemy was.


ping


Untaaura's eyes drew open in an instant, and she was back in the world of bright light, awake and alert with a rush of inhaled breath. From her seated position at the far wall of her quarters, she had complete fire coverage over the only entry or exit of her domicile. The buttstock of her carbine pressed into the sweet spot of her right shoulder as she drew her shooting hand to the weapon's grip. She sighted the aimpoint through the springs and frame of her bed, which she had thrown over the entryway to act as a makeshift barricade. The thin mattress had been folded flush against the wall, which she used for a degree of comfort so that she could sleep in an upright seated position. Discipline stayed her trigger finger, which hovered outside the guard. There was something she should say here. Ask for the observation point password? Untaaura faltered. She was back in the world. It came back to her in full, and only then did she lower her weapon.

"Enterr."