Shuttles And Stars

Sia

My mind, however, was anything but calm. I had been briefed about the mission—important enough to involve the Prime Minister himself. Normally, this would command my full attention, but tonight, something else weighed heavily on my thoughts.

Neeraj.

I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. For the first time in years, someone outside my team mattered—really mattered. Neeraj was different, his presence lingering even after the party had ended. It felt strange, like my heart had been quietly ambushed. No one had ever made me feel like this before, but here I was, preparing to leave on a mission without even saying goodbye, without any explanation.

As I approached the PMO, Col. Rajput stood waiting, his posture rigid, but his eyes softened as he saw me.

“You look tense, Captain,” he remarked, his voice firm but laced with concern. “Nervous about the meeting?”

I forced a smile, squaring my shoulders. “Just a little, sir. Big mission.”

He narrowed his eyes, studying me as though he could sense there was more beneath the surface. “Is it the meeting you’re nervous about or something else?” His tone softened, almost paternal. “Focus, Sia. The nation comes first. Nothing else matters.”

I swallowed, nodding in agreement. His words, though harsh, were familiar. They echoed the creed I had lived by for years. “Yes, sir.”

---

Inside the PMO, the weight of the mission settled over the room. The Prime Minister, Home Minister, and senior officers sat in grim silence as we prepared for the briefing. Vikram started with the overview, his voice steady and authoritative, laying out the stakes. Maj. Raghav followed, detailing the timeline and objectives. When it was my turn, I kept my voice even, professional, speaking clearly about my role in the operation. I locked my personal feelings away, just as I’d always been trained to do.

As the meeting drew to a close, the Prime Minister addressed us all. “This mission is classified. It must not leave this room. The nation is counting on you.”

We all nodded in agreement. The gravity of his words hung in the air as we made our way out of the briefing room.

Outside, as I walked towards the exit, I felt my phone buzzing incessantly in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw several notifications.

5 Missed Calls from Neeraj D.
10 Messages from Neeraj D.

A knot tightened in my stomach. I hadn’t responded once all evening.

Vikram, noticing the expression on my face, nudged me lightly. “Neeraj again?” he asked with a teasing grin. “Turn that thing off. He’s probably just checking if you got home safe. Meera’s got this, unless she’s passed out drunk.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “I’ll have to check on her later. Let’s hope she’s still upright.”

We walked to the base, laughing about the night’s earlier events, but the weight of Neeraj’s unanswered messages stayed with me. As we changed into our combat gear, my thoughts kept drifting back to the last time I saw him, his eyes full of concern as I left the party early. I slipped on my uniform—gone were the elegant black dress and heels, replaced by my well-worn fatigues. This was where I belonged, not in the bright lights of Delhi’s high society.

---

Before the mission commenced, we gathered for the final briefing. Maj. Raghav stood before us, his voice commanding respect as he laid out the plan.

“We land at Point 1190 by 1200 hours,” he explained, pointing at the maps spread before us. “Netra and Sia, you clear the path and monitor enemy movements. Make sure we’re not spotted. The rest of us will follow behind.”