In just a little over a month, Heddison entered a period of rejuvenation because of the drastic climate change. The winter wonderland became a tropic amazon of sorts. Savoi wasted no time with this advantage by dispatching chemical reactive sets brought from the academy to restore both the soil and dead seeds buried beneath. Trees, vegetables, and fruit were once again available to produce. Shipments of healthy livestock from out west replenished farmlands. Imitation beef and other substitute supplements were no longer offered. 

This minor victory was a win for everyone, and could not have come sooner. An avalanche of disgruntled civilians complained to the Tribunal Council about their poor treatment from the distasteful foods rationed to the inept medical staff. The Company Commander, Captain Zukowski, had been overwhelmed with criticisms. Then suddenly, Heddison became the premier safe haven location once it had been stabilized. People from all over the kingdom attempted to negotiate passage to and through the territory.

Savoi directed the chemical technician team to extract components of turmeric, flax seed, ginger, curcuma longa, and echinacea to replicate phytomedicine. Chief Petty Officer Bededa was the first-line supervisor who monitored the project from start to finish. With doubtful eyes from the entire team, Savoi worked tirelessly to ensure they were taught in the same manner she learned from her mother.

Hushed snickers and jeers could be heard from the back of the kitchen all the while. Many technicians scoffed at the idea of medicine extracted from plants instead of being formed and combined with lab chemicals. They knew no other way because using natural resources to combat chemical warfare was a foreign concept. They had provided no real aid or relief. Which meant healing was delayed with scores of casualties by the wayside.

Chief Petty Officer Bededa was impressed by Savoi’s unusual approach, which eased the tension among the group. She commanded the team with a rich, even-toned voice to be silent, which allowed Savoi to work in peace. Then Bededa addressed the team.

 “Years ago, my unit deployed on a tour to Intagua Island. The land was so beautiful, filled with potent vegetation and sturdy animals.” She nodded at Savoi. “I was thrilled at the opportunity to learn from your people, but sadly, most were sent to be slaughtered on the infantry line. Over a short time, the island became a destitute wasteland. It gives me hope to see that all was not lost after such ruthless and ignorant pillaging. We are truly fortunate to have a native lead the way.”  

Savoi smiled at the acknowledgement. Her work was still met with resistance, but at least the results spoke for themselves. No one could refute the positive effects of the natural resources, which not only had been buried but simply disregarded for use. Though she had nothing to do with the climate change, she reversed some damages caused to the area by the winter storm. Time would tell if the advantage would remain in their court.

On the third level of the mail bay, Roudan and seven other AAF members were deeply engrossed in a competition to see who could stack the most ale cans on a wooden desk. Roudan had the highest collection of thirty-nine cans stacked in a pyramid. His concentration could not be broken, even as his counterparts verbally sparred around him. A tall redhead named 1stLt Bernal drunkenly cackled over his shoulder.

“Just tell me who it is, because I’m not good with names.”

Roudan did not stir from Bernal’s hot breath in his ear. He added yet another can on top of the pyramid, which caused the rest of the group to go wild with amazement. Bernal was also undeterred from being ignored.

“Well, I don’t know his name. I just know he’s on point with marksmanship and is the best weapons trainer we’ve had in a while,” she continued.

An officer with thick glasses crept on the other side of Roudan and interjected.

“Um, Bernal. You might want to take a step back from that guy. I heard he’s with that island girl.”

Bernal retracted the sentence in her throat and paused.

“Oh, yeah. They always seem chummy, regardless of who’s watching,” she replied while rubbing Roudan’s shoulder. He took his focus off the pyramid and starred at her with such disinterest that Bernal retreated to the other side of the table. The other female officer hesitated to speak, but lost the nerve when Roudan went back to his project.

The mail courier arrived shortly after, which caused Roudan to jump to his feet. Majestically, he left the table, knocking no cans over. It was to no avail since Bernal instinctively tried to pick up where he left off, but made the pyramid collapse by adding a last can. The group booed her unmercifully. Her friend instantly squatted beside her to clean up the mess.

Roudan accepted his telegram and walked out of the mail bay. His hands fumbled over the letter, not knowing what it would entail. To his surprise, the letter was written in Shevchenko’s handwriting. He took a seat on a nearby bench and carefully read each word as if they were sacred text. The letter was but one page with three paragraphs.

Paragraphs one and two were the usual status checks of wellbeing between her and Farouk, along with inquiring about their respective squad members. Paragraph number three was concerning, as she questioned his arrangement with General Benavides not to deploy to the capital, knowing Heddison was not the place to gain rank or notoriety.

Roudan sighed, feeling disappointed that Shevchenko did not trust his judgement. He understood the consequences of his actions and that their life would not be an easier since he was merely a lower noble. When he stood up from the bench, a small piece of paper fell from the telegram envelope. Roudan tucked the paper neatly back in the envelope, then pulled it out. He gasped and nearly doubled over once it was unfolded. It was an ultrasound, the very first picture of his unborn son. 

~The Waring Robins~