Sigma/Star

Chapter 5: Mobilize For War

A/N: Thanks for reading this far and big celebrations for a fifth chapter release! Next milestone at 10, then 25, 50 and so on! Hopefully you'll hang around to see what happens :)

Ochenkov's eyelids fluttered open and he gasped for breath. In response, pain erupted across his body and he felt tension across his arm and chest, looking down to see various small tubes coming out from those locations. There were patches all over his chest attached to electrodes spewing out readouts on hospital machines surrounding his small bed.

The general was by no means a small man and his frame overwhelmed the mattress, spilling over the sides. He managed to shift his neck and watched a nurse beside him noting down numbers and graphs. When she saw he was awake she created a warm smile across her face to try and soothe him.

He too tried to smile back but could not hide his strife. He did his best to motion her over with his head, the rest of his body completely unresponsive to his demands for motions. "Where are men?" His Northern accent was thick and slurred his words together. It was part of being from one of the mountain tribes and he had always struggled with the new language forced upon him.

"Your men?" The nurse looked baffled and flipped through some of the papers on her clipboard. "Men...men...men...there's nobody here on the list..."

My men!" Ochenkov bellowed, something feral and deep and much in tune with a bear. "Where are they?!"

In answer to his question a doctor came flying in, his lab coat swirling behind him. Following him was a well-dressed military man, a long overcoat running down to just below his knees, black with gold trim and buttons. At the top was well-coifed black hair, like that of a smooth crow and his face was spotless and clean-shaven. The only blemish was an old scar that ran over his right eye down across his nose, finishing above his lip. By contrast the blonde doctor of Scandinavian looks was completely forgettable (and Ochenkov subsequently did this).

This imposing man was Christian, the Martyr General, who piloted the Iron Maiden Goliath before he was put in a top advisory role. He too smiled at Ochenkov but it did nothing to calm the beast, for this wild animal had a personal hatred for this specific general.

"Christian! Where are men?!"

"They are dead Ochenkov." His voice was cold and frosty. His sentences were abruptly delivered; even if they were short normally he seemed to add an extra edge to their curtness.

"Where are they?"

"I suppose they're still up in the mountains somewhere. The Goliaths are being dismantled for scrap metal and parts. We'll retrieve the bodies eventually for a proper burial, but one of them was fairly destroyed. I doubt they will be salvageable." Christian made a little signal to the doctor and a syringe was inserted into one of Ochenkov's tubes, some form of nerve-calming serum. "Now Ochenkov," Christian said as he leaned up on one knee, his foot against the tribesman's bed, "what did the Silver Hawk say to you?"

"I say nothing of Hawk. How do you..." Ochenkov's eyes widened. "You know when you sent us! It was suicide!" Ochenkov's head rolled from side to side as he attempted to thrash in anger but the morphine he had been given was doing its job, and he was starting to fight just to keep his focus on the hated general.

Another signal from Christian, a different injection this time. "We had a suspicion Ochenkov, nothing more. You are a capable general for Enia, you might have had a chance. Not a high one but a chance the same."

"You send men to die." While his body was becoming more docile, his eyes could not be killed and channelled Ochenkov's passion.

"There are very few needless deaths in war, but you are far too low in ranking to understand these things. Everything has a purpose and a point and everything has a chance. Why didn't you save them Ochenkov?"