Chapter 3

Alicia groaned, her eyes hurting from the bright lights above her. As she stirred, she could make out the droning hum of the ceiling fan overhead. Her body rustled the thin sheets covering her up. Even with her blurred vision, she knew she was in the medical bay.

"Damn . . ." Alicia mumbled, scratching her eyelids as she sat up. The pain in her head was throbbing. She scrunched up the sheets with her hands, hoping that she wouldn't vomit in her bed.

"Sergeant. It's good to see you're recovering."

Alicia's right hand shot up and instinctively saluted. She knew the voice belonged to her superior, Captain Verrot. As her vision cleared Alicia noticed her captain standing by her bedside, holding her greatcoat in her hands.

"Are you planning on laying there all day, Sergeant? I know you've had to deal with some uncomfortable rumors, but our nation is still at war."

Rumors? Alicia thought as she slowly got up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. After a moment she groaned. That stupid story. Right, no forgetting that.

"Lieutenant Welkin was quite worried for you when he heard you passed out in the cafeteria. Personally, I'm concerned about the amount of stress you're under just from being in camp. Perhaps you need some time to rest?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary," Alicia said as she shook her head. "I'll . . . I'll get back to work, right away." Alicia slowly reached for her greatcoat, and draped it over her shoulders. As she attempted to get up, her captain pressed her back down onto the bed, her hands firmly clenched on her shoulders.

"How bad is it?"

"W-what do you-"

"Sergeant. You know what I'm talking about."

Alicia opened her mouth, struggling to find the proper words. It was one thing for a few people in her squad to have read the story about her, but for her superior to know was something she couldn't handle.

"It's not . . . it's not too bad. I mean, that stupid magazine makes me out to be some kind of pervert, but . . . no, I'm fine. I'll just . . . perform my duties. As always," she said, doing her best to smile.

"Are you still able to lead your men?"

"Huh?"

"Perhaps your leadership skills aren't as excellent as I first thought," Captain Verrot said with a shake of her head. "If necessary, I can arrange for you to transfer to a reserve unit for a short while."

"No!"

Alicia shot out of her bed, landing on the cold floor below her. She gasped, feeling her legs wobble as she stood up straight. She wasn't going to be sent away, not when Welkin, Isara, and all the others needed her. She wasn't a quitter.

"I'm a strong leader. You won't need to replace me," Alicia said, giving her captain a stern look. The captain nodded firmly in response.

"Good. Then find out who's responsible for tarnishing your excellent reputation, and go back to doing what you're best at," she said with a smile.

"I'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry," Alicia said with a gleam in her eye.

As the captain left, Alicia put on her boots, pulling into a tight fit. She wasn't going to let Welkin or her squad down. She'd make sure that she'd fight to win back her place among the troops. But now to the hard part, Alicia thought as she headed out into the hallway. Finding out clues to who did in her reputation.

"Oh, Miss Alicia, you're all better!"

Dallas threw down her wrench and started running towards her superior at full speed. Alicia held out her hands, and managed to soften the blow just enough to avoid toppling over. Holding the excited girl out at arms length, Alicia hoped that Dallas would provide clues about the origins of the story about her.

"Listen, Dallas, I need to know about that story that went out yesterday. Know anything about who wrote it?"

"No, I . . . I thought it was disgusting," Dallas said with a pout. "I consider myself a connoisseur of . . . forbidden romance literature. I remember seeing Rosie reading a magazine in the bunk the other day. After she read through it, she pushed it into my hands, saying something about how 'I would like that kind of trash.' It had your picture on it, so I thought it would make for good reading. After I read a few pages though , I . . . I wanted to cry. Y-you . . . you and that other girl-"

"Don't worry, it's all fake," Alicia said with a tired smile. "I'd never do anything to harm a fellow soldier."

"I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" Dallas screamed, wrapping her arms tight around her superior. "I knew you didn't have any other girls on the side. I'm the only one for you, Miss Alicia!"

"Okay, okay, settle down," Alicia said as she pulled Dallas off her. "So, Rosie was the one who brought in the magazine? Alright, going to have a chat with her," she said, turning to leave the garage. Dallas latched onto her wrist, and as Alicia looked back she saw her smile grow disturbingly wide.

"You know . . . I don't mind if you treat me roughly, Miss Alicia. I'm all yours . . ." she said, her eyes growing wider and wider as she tightened her grip.

"I think I'll pass on the offer . . ." Alicia said, quickly tugging her arm out of the engineer's grasp.

Dallas continued to advance on her superior, her mouth dripping as she reached out her hands. At that point, Alicia knew it was time to go.

"Edy? You can't change out of your uniform in public!" Alicia said, looking past Dallas' shoulder. As the young soldier looked away, her sergeant took the opportunity to retreat back to the barracks. Sprinting away from her obsessive underling, Alicia prepared herself for showing Rosie her place in the squad.

"Are you serious?"

Rosie laughed loudly, clutching her sides as Alicia stood in front of her. She had reacted better than expected to Alicia's accusations. Still, the young sergeant knew Rosie had to start talking if the truth about the magazine was going to be revealed.

"I'm not exactly a model soldier, but I'm not crazy enough to write crap about my boss. Besides, why would I write smut with a Darscen in it? That's disgusting," Rosie said, shaking her head. Alice grit her teeth as she tried her best to ignore Rosie's taunting smirk.

"Dallas told me that you were the one who had the magazine."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "Dallas says a lot of things. She's girl crazy, you know. She's probably the one who wrote the damn thing in the first place. Now, if you don't mind, I have a card game waiting for me," she said, heading towards the door.

"I want to know where you got the magazine from," Alicia said, her voice rising.

"Listen, I'm not going to rat out a fellow soldier. I'm tired, I'm bored, and I don't have time for this. Now, lay off," Rosie said, walking around her.

Alicia held out her arm, forcing her to stop. Rosie stared her sergeant down down, but Alicia refused to look away. Like it or not, she was going to answer her questions. Rosie finally relented, groaning loudly before she decided to talk.
"A few days ago, I came back to the barracks after getting a bad couple of rounds. As I passed the alleyway I saw a guy I know chuck that magazine into the trash. I wanted something to take my mind off the game, so I picked it up. It . . . worked," she said with a shudder. "I passed the damn thing off to Dallas, and I tried my best to forget the whole thing and go to sleep."

"That's it?"

"That's it," Rosie said, yanking open the door. "If you want to know more, ask around the loading docks. The guy with the magazine was carrying his crate of vegetables in, like he always does. Oh, and by the way," she said, holding the door open a crack. "I hear Isara's looking for you. I don't care about your love life, just leave me the hell out of it," Rosie said, snapping the door shut behind her.

Alicia growled, grinding her teeth together as she stormed out the back door. A full day's searching and she still hadn't found out who was writing about her. Still, she wasn't going to give up, not with her reputation on the line. Alicia headed to the loading docks, hoping to put an end to her nightmare.

Irene wiped a line of sweat from her brow as she hunched over her typewriter. Her contacts in the army loved the story she had sold to them. She had sold out the few dozen copies she had printed out, and finally had some money for her work.

"At least we can fix the damn lighting now," Irene whispered to herself, squinting at the flickering bulb above her. Still, she needed more if she was going to make her newspaper respectable. She needed something bigger. Something juicier. And not that fake stuff anymore. A juicy romance story, a story that would give her the funds to really dig into the truth of the war effort. But to do all that, she needed material.

She sighed, packing up her pencil and notepad. Perhaps it was time to make a trip back to Squad 7, and see how they were doing. Especially Alicia, Irene thought with a smile.