It was one of those days when she stared down at her shotgun a sudden rush of disgust coming up and tears stinging her eyes. Why today?
Everything was just a little more painful, a little less good enough than it usually was. Her teammates’ distrustful stares stung just that little bit more, her own walk felt just that little less natural, her back hunched just that little bit more and she needed to remind herself to straighten up, to hold her head up high even if all she wanted was to hide in the next hole and never resurface.
Well, wake up. You’re in the military now and it’s your own fault.
It was ironic how it felt like she had taken a step down from merc to soldier, not the other way around.
Shaking her head she put her shotgun back together, swallowing the bile that had risen in her throat at the sight. Shyama had no right to own that weapon and she had haf considered throwing it away. But she just didn’t have the money to buy a new one.
And there was always that little voice in the back of her head that chanted You deserve this.
There was that too.
---
Nightmares did not bother her so much anymore. They were a constant, always there, lurking in the shadows. It was always the same.
Running, running, trying to reach her destination in time being hunted all the way. She used to feel strong. She used to be predator. Being reduced to the prey made her want to scream. But she had no air in her lungs by then and then there was a single shot ringing in her ears and she knew she was too late.
Shy didn’t suffer from any kind of PTSD.
No shot ever sounded like that one.
---
When the call to arms came, Shy was the first and the only one to volunteer.
No one had any particular desire to request a different station. Either you served the Council and were already working with other species or you were on Thessia where your family was and then you wanted to stay there, with a war coming up and all.
She had family on Thessia but she wanted to ship out all the same.
“I’ve served with humans before. I’m expendable here...” Saying that stung a bit even though it shouldn’t. She didn’t want to be here. But the fact that she was not even needed made it worse. “... and they obviously need help.”
The officer rubbed her face.
“You’ve served with humans before?”
The unspoken question hung between them.
“When you were a mercenary, butchering for money? Did you like it? Did you make nice with the aliens? Do you prefer them?”
She swallowed the answer she wanted to give. Not that she would’ve had the courage to speak her mind in the first place. The only time she ever had that courage, she’d bitterly regretted it.
“I have. I believe I’d be of use.” There was a heavy and pressing silence while the officer perused her files and it took all of her willpower not to sigh in relief when the “Granted.” came.
She was running away again.
From her society, her responsibility, her guilt, herself, everything.
It felt just as good as it had the first time around.