Copperhead Road

Phalsbourg-Bourscheid Air Base - AEGIS Joint Base

Moselle, France

11 JAN 2029

0630 Hours

The morning came in the same uneventful way it had every time. The alarm went off, and then was silenced. The lights came on. Hideo was already up and moving with the rest of the team leaders. Allison pulled her sheet and blanket off and stepped onto the cold hard concrete floor. Its icy chill woke her instantly and told her she hadn’t put her shower shoes in the correct area last night. She bent over and retrieved them, slipping the sandals onto her feet. The demi-machina filed into the bathroom for the morning routine. Showers were turned on. Faces were shaved. Teeth were brushed.

Allison exited the bathroom and went for her locker. She retrieved the mock sweater and thermal leggings and slipped them on over her PT shirt. Then she donned her coveralls and CVC jacket. She grabbed her winter gloves, neck gaiter, and watch cap, and then filed out with the rest of the demi-machina. They marched to the dining facility and entered in single-file. Breakfast was almost always the same. Powdered scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, and a choice between french toast or pancakes. She went with pancakes this morning, grabbed her tray, got a glass of milk, and sat with her team. They said nothing as they shoveled food into their mouths. They all knew they had to be fast.

Things had been very busy in the last few months. Counter-intelligence was quick at work vetting out any other moles within NATO while the Ashen Dawn rose as a large threat over No Man’s Land. Their machines were found to be improved MARS designs straight from the Soviet factories. Whether they were stolen or supplied was anyone’s guess though. ARES missions now encompassed full strategic objectives with extensive use of combined arms tactics. Allison and the rest of the Bushmasters found themselves working alongside other ARES teams mostly, but also were in support of regular infantry. Things were heating up, but Allison was fine with it.

“Can we see it?”

Allison looked up from her tray. One of the other soldiers was standing over her. He had a wry smile and a baby-face with blonde hair. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

“No.” Allison replied.

“Oh come on, let’s see it!”

“Private, I’m trying to enjoy my meal without being half-naked alright?”

“Come on man, you ain’t got a chance with her anyway. She’s a metal jockey and way above your paygrade.” One of the man’s friends, a dark-skinned man with short cut black hair, told him as he dragged him off by his elbow.

Allison rolled her eyes. She eyed her new patches on her coveralls. Three chevrons instead of her usual two indicated her new rank as a Sergeant now. She looked up to see Charlotte snickering.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing. You had to do the same thing too.”

Charlotte just laughed harder.

After the mission and their recovery, the two were informed of their next objective: a tattoo. But not just any tattoo. A tattoo off a pair of green footprints. The mark of the Air Force Pararescuemen that came to their aid on that night in Ulmbach. The tattoo, while a bit unorthodox, was not the problem. The problem was that it had to, above all else, be put on their buttcheek. This was customary for the PJs that had earned their maroon berets. Allison said “hell no” many many times. She didn’t believe that she’d be made to go through such an ordeal, until the PJs all proved that they had gone through the same thing.

That’s how it went. Allison and Charlotte headed out on a day off with a few PJs as escorts to a local tattoo parlor and were made to continue the tradition. Of course, being rescued crew members, they had gotten the words “SAVED BY PEDRO” under the pair of feet. So the saying went of “having your ass saved by the Jolly Green Giant,” a tradition dating back to the Vietnam War when Air Force PJs would be flown in on helicopters of the same name to rescue downed pilots. It was something she would carry with her for the rest of her life, but it was a reminder that she’d also been very lucky. And, just like in the old times, the demi-machina had adopted their own sort of traditions. Her stim vial had been dismantled after it was brought back and the needle had been softly bent to form a ring. The stim was commonly referred to as “the last wakeup”, and as Allison and Charlotte wore the needle rings around their fingers, they sent a small message to everyone that they had beaten the last wakeup.

Other, more official awards had included, for the both of them, a Purple Heart. Allison herself was awarded the Prisoner of War Medal for recognition of her time in captivity of the Ashen Dawn, no matter how brief it was, and the Silver Star for the actions she took to save Charlotte. She found the medals to be nice, but the tattoo and ring had a deeper meaning to her and the other soldiers around her.

Allison was thankful to have no more surprises in the chow hall. She cleaned off her tray and dropped it off at the dish tank with a “thank you” rendered to the kitchen staff. As she headed out with the rest of the team, Colonel Duchamp approached her.

“Sergeant Allison?” He asked.

“Yes sir?” She replied softly, wondering what the base commander had for her to be called out personally.

“Come with me, please.”

Allison looked to the others. They had rather quizzical expressions, but Allison’s own confusion made them wonder if she’d accidentally messed something up somewhere. The team headed out to the operations briefing room as Allison followed the Colonel.

“Where are we heading, sir?” She asked.

“Us? Oh, nowhere in particular.”

“Did I do something wrong, sir?”

The Colonel walked on for a bit before he spoke again.

“Sergeant Allison, these new Ashen Dawn believers are swiftly making a mess of our overall strategy in Germany.”

“I can see that, sir.”

“We wish to put them on the backfoot. Start a new front. Enter into the battlefield from somewhere they won’t suspect.”

“What does that have to do with me, sir?”

When they had reached an empty hallway, Colonel Duchamp stopped and turned to her. His serious expression had never faltered in all the time she’d seen him. His hand fell onto her shoulder.

“I understand you can tolerate the cold, yes?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Very good. How do you feel about heading up a new team of fresh recruits then?”

“Sir?”

“We’re relocating forces, and a new batch of demi-machina have been deployed in preparation. For this task, your old unit has been rotated back into active duty where you will serve as its team leader.”

Allison stared at him blankly as so many things whirled around inside her. So many conflicting emotions clashed, but ultimately one triumphed over the rest.

“That sounds…outstanding, sir!” She replied, smiling at him.

“Good. Because your ARES and your uniform have already been packed up and sent over. Gather your gear and say your goodbyes. Your ride will be wheels up within the next two hours.”

“I…that’s…thank you, sir.”

“That will be all, Sergeant.”

Allison snapped to attention and the Colonel dismissed her. She took off running the other way. The rest of her team were standing by the exit with a few other NATO troopers who headed out as soon as she arrived.

“What’s this all about, Miss Allison?” Hideo asked.

“Yeah, what’s so important?” Franziska added.

“I’m…I’m leaving.” Allison said.

“Oi, you wot?!” Carwyn exclaimed.

“They’re rotating me back to my old unit and making me team lead.”

Charlotte gave a soft whistle and said to her, “Guess you really impressed someone upstairs after all this time.”

The woman slapped Allison on the shoulder. Hideo smiled, and Carwyn bid her good luck in his most famously Welsh way. Franziska sighed and told Allison not to get herself killed. With that, they headed off to get their briefing. Allison headed back to her barracks and packed everything up. She saw the old 28th ARES AT patch in her belongings and picked it out. She stared at it. Her elation faded to uncertainty. Was she really ready for this? For the responsibility? The faces of her comrades emerged in her mind’s eye. Their lives were snuffed out in combat with the enemy. She steeled herself. She was left now, and she would carry on their legacy with her. They would not be forgotten. She would make sure of it.

Allison had all of her gear packed and stepped out of the barracks within an hour. She stepped out towards the tarmac and watched the Lfitmasters do their thing. They had Bushmasters under their fuselages as they took off and headed east. Other ARES units made their way out the main gates with Bradley IFVs and M1 Abrams tanks following behind. The base was more lively now than when she had first arrived. It was almost surreal to see it so busy. She made her way out to the ramp and found a cargo plane that was spinning up. A quick talk with the crew chief affirmed that it was her ride, so she boarded it and let the flight crew do their thing. They took off and headed north.

Within the next seven hours, the cargo plane touched down at Rovaniemi Airport in Finland. Allison stepped off the back ramp and headed out. There was a small breeze blowing snow around. She looked up at the gray skies overhead. It felt just like home. As she passed by the hangar, she saw her new ARES being reassembled. The words “GHOST VIPER” were emblazoned on the chest with a matching snake emblem. It made her smile. She headed out and dropped her gear off with the MPs before reporting in to the base commander. It took her all of five minutes to make herself known and present to the commander before he dismissed her to her barracks. Allison grabbed the door handle and opened it. A sudden breeze blew in with the snow, forcing her to step through and slam the door behind her.

The barracks inside were empty with its rows of bunks, save for four individuals sitting around a table playing cards. They all turned to look at her. Allison stepped in, making her way to the table. The faces that stared back looked young. Much younger than she’d seen before. The new generation of demi-machina. Their uniforms all bore the same patch she had before she left for France months before. The 28th ARES AT “Copperheads.” She tossed her duffle bag. It sailed off and landed on one of the bunks. She noted that most of the demi-machina’s coveralls around her were sporting one chevron and one rocker or one stripe from their respective country’s military. E-2s with one E-3 among them.

“My name is Sergeant Allison. From here on out, I will be your new team leader.” She said as she circled around the table. “I will teach you everything you need to know in the field on how to fight the enemy. How to survive. How to come home against all odds. I will personally evaluate every one of you during our time together. I will put your training to the test. You will use all the skills you have developed. And if you listen to what I say and take it to heart, then you’ll have nothing to fear. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, Sergeant!” They answered in unison.

“Outstanding. Form up and get your PT gear on. We’re going for a run.”

The four looked between them and then back to Allison. They found no solace in her actions as she pulled her coveralls off and got changed into the winter PT uniform. They put their cards down on the table and made for their bunks, changing their clothes just as she was. When they had finished, Allison marched them out of the barracks, noting how they all had their sweatpants on while she was still only wearing her shorts. She smirked to herself when she was behind the last one and followed him out. This feeling kept her warm inside, even as she stepped out into the icy cold Finnish air.