Girls' Frontline Fanfiction: Tsar of the Mountain

New Dawns Blessed by the Winged Beast

"While I bring good news, I know it's not entirely what you want to hear. The explosion sent pieces of shrapnel into your leg, here. Luckily, that was the only area it seemed to hit you, any other pain you feel is from the shockwave of the explosion and subsequent concussion. You're actually quite lucky. We did our best, and were able to get all the fragments out, but... The damage your leg sustained is severe enough that you will never be able to fully use it...while also not being severe enough for us to justify amputating and providing you a mechanical prosthetic. You'll likely carry this scar for the rest of your life."

***

"...Is what he said." Zeldri idly played with a straw wrapper as he sat in the passenger seat of a car.

"Which is a load of bullshit!" Peter smacked the steering wheel of his car. "Проклятый дурак (Damned fool). Doctors are meant to be able to fix problems, not push them off for later."

"Make a right, here." Zeldri pointed out the windshield. "They did fix me, Peter."

"Not enough! And, the fact that you're not as pissed as I am is getting me even more pissed!" He continued to grumble as they weaved their way through city streets. It was a bright sunny day, which only made things more unbearable. "What about the Colonel? I heard he was there."

"Colonel Tsroski?" Zeldri snorted as he recalled their interaction, "He was cussing the doctor out about not being able to fully fix my leg like you are now. I think the doc lost a year of his life from that."

"Good!"

"The doc was just doing his job, Peter... Left at the light."

"So, he could have done it better."

"You know that's not how it works." Zeldri crumpled the wrapper and pocked it in his coat. "You guys put too much emphasis on my wellbeing considering I'm still alive and kicking. Maybe, direct that energy towards your next CO? Whoever that'll be."

"Fuck you, you earned the respect and that rank." Peter's anger touched Zeldri and he couldn't help but smile. They sat in silence for a minute before Peter continued, "They say Jacob's gonna take over the unit."

"Good," Zeldri nodded his head and went back to staring out the window, "He's got a good head on his shoulders, so I'm sure he'll do fine." He chuckled and turned back to Peter, "Try not to shit on him too much?"

"No promises."

"Сука (Bitch)!" Zeldri smacked Peter's shoulder and both men erupted into laughter.

"But," Peter began after he recomposed himself, "Are you sure you wanna do...this?"

"You still on me about this?" Zeldri gave an annoyed sigh, but Peter continued anyways.

"I mean, come on, man. I know a lot of guys who get out go to PMC's, but does it have to be this one?"

"Look," Zeldri rolled his eyes as he already knew where this would go, "They've got a good reputation, good benefits, and are willing to take a cripple like me. And, before you even start, yes I know about the child dolls; my old man did some research for me when I told him what I was planning on doing when I got out of the hospital."

"And you aren't, like, put off by that?" Peter scrunched his nose in disgust. "Calling their staff 'Commanders' and having them go out with these dolls that look like little girls to fight Sangvis Ferri? That's fucking creepy."

"Only because I know your minds already in the gutter."

"Where else would it go!?" Peter exclaimed which got a laugh out of Zeldri. "Are you telling me at least one of their 'Commanders' hasn't tried sticking their dick in one of those dolls? I hear some of them are rich kids who're just mooching achievements out of it for fame."