Wings of Honor: Meeting The Enemy

Chapter 11: Harmless As A Dove

"We have to keep moving General."
I said to him as we hobbled further and further away from the sound of gunfire. Dark grey and pearly white surrounded us, broken up by the crispy brown of winter trees. (Their names lost to me from the mental strain of combat.) But we kept moving. Going back was suicide, finding the rear lines was liable to get us shot. We were stuck right in between the war. The allies versus the Axis.
"S-slow down." The man I half dragged begged me.
Seeing we were well enough away by now, maybe 200 yards, I let him rest. The distant, muffled sounds of gunfire. Thankfully, the blizzard let up a bit, and we managed to see each other's faces for once.
I met his eyes, and he met my eagle badge.
"I... don't believe we have been properly introduced."
I sighed, dusting the powder trying to seep in under my coat. Saying, out of breath, "Technician, fourth class Marvin Jerez. One-Hundred-'n-First Airborne. Five 'oh second, Delta Company."
He reached out his hand. I grasped it strong.
"Brigadier General Anthony McAuliffe. One-Hundred-'n-First."
"Sir."
I gave his hand a firm shake. He responded with a piercing cry.
"Sir! Are you okay?"
"Ah! My arm. My side."
"Let me check."
He hesitated when I went to pull up his shirt, but then he complied when I told him I knew first aid. Gingerly sliding up his scraped and punctured uniform, I found smears of blood all over his abdominal area.
"Okay. Let's see about this."
Taking a rag, I wiped away the blood. I got out my crookneck flashlight, opening wide so I could set it within my teeth with the button on. That was painful, and my mouth wouldn't stop cramping.
Producing my personal aid kit, I sterilized the area with pads, much to the hissing and groaning of the general.
"Come on sir. It doesn't hurt that bad."
He just continued to groan.
I found where a round or some shrapnel embedded itself into him. On his right side, more towards his groin area.
"Found it."
"G-good."
I felt around for an exit wound, but did not find anything. The general was shot up, but it wasn't outside of my capabilities.
I managed a compression bandage, applying it over his wound with a decent amount of vaseline in little tubes Momma sends me from back home. Those things go like hot cakes out here.
"Argh! What the hell is that?"
"Vaseline. It'll help the wound."
"H-how do you know all this?" While I wrapped gauze around his waist to keep the bandage secure.
"The Scouts. Helping others who were shot, the medics. And just being shot before I guess."
"Oh."
I think then he noticed the burn mark on my right forearm. He seemed to gasp.
"Sicily. Adanti. Operation Husky. Shrapnel from friendly 5 inches."
He was good now. I turned to stuff my kit back, exposing the scar on my neck.
"Normandy. Operation Neptune. An 88 knocked down our plane, and nicked me."
I sighed, remembering Jimmy. How he survived that and still be able to fly was beyond me.
"Come on. Can you walk?"
He groaned as he stumbled to his feet.
"I... I think so."
I nodded. Stepping next to him on his left, raising his arm around me so I could hold him up. Slinging my weapons, drawing his pistol.
"W-what are we doing now?"
I looked up at the sky. A storm was brewing.
I blew a cloud into his face.
"We walk." Is all I said.
The snow enveloped us, erasing us from sight.

I tightened my grasp on the rifle grip. I knew this was going to happen, even without foreshadowing, future sight, or prior knowledge, but the statement still lit a fire that burned with a warmth throughout me. I just hoped that Travers and Grace could quell theirs before someone does something stupid.
None of us could never have imagined this scene, or how Queen Glory could somehow suddenly look as though she were made of spun glass. A nigh transparent blue, she looked like she was a sculpture.
I spotted Moon break away from her mother, and started pushing her way forward through the crowd. Me and Grace locked eyes for a moment, the same idea rushing through us.
"You can't do that," Deathbringer spat at Darkstalker. Glory didn't try to stop him this time; she was staring at Darkstalker as though he'd upended her entire existence, thrown everything that was her onto the floor, like marbles spilling out onto the ground, and she was stunned as to how to reorganize everything the way it was. It would never be the way it was before.
"Why not?" Darkstalker asked, looking down at the comparatively smaller NightWing.
"For one thing, you're male," said Deathbringer. "And for another, you're not royalty, so you have no right to the throne."
"In case you hadn't noticed, she's not exactly of royal NightWing blood either," Darkstalker said, flicking his tail at Glory, almost catching me, passing right in front. "And just because we've never had a king before doesn't mean we shouldn't have one now."
"Pyrrhia has only had queens for the entirety of dragon history," said Deathbringer, still arguing the case for her. "Male dragons cannot rule their tribes. That's just the way it is."
"Things can change," Darkstalker said irked. "We're dragons, not ants. We can do things differently if we choose to."
Wait a minute.
What? Grace looked to me.
My memory might be playing tricks on me, but I feel like I've heard that before.
I sensed Grace look down, pondering it for a moment.
"Darkstalker!" Moon hissed from the front of the crowd, and he looked down at her. "What are you doing? You promised not to hurt my friends!"
I took a sharp inhale. That was your agreement! This is something I can work with.
"Feel free to check on your friends," said Darkstalker in an unsettlingly gentle voice. "I'm sure you'll find that they're all safe and perfectly unharmed."
"But Glory's my friend, too," Moon said, her voice wobbling. "I don't want you to kill her."
Something flashed in Darkstalker's eyes. Something familiar. Something I've feen flash in Goldman's eyes as well. "Oh, Moon," Darkstalker said. "The truth is you don't want me to kill anybody. And neither do I ... but we are dragons. There's a way these things have to be done."
Goldman, as a NightWing, swept around in front of her, draping his wing over her and whispering something to her.
Just the sight nearly made my blood boil over. I wanted to shoot him right here, right now. I wanted to rip those damn things off of him and smack him bloody with the things he draped over Moon. But I closed my eyes, letting as much anger out with my breath as I could muster. A cloud formed with my breath.
"I cannot accept your challenge," Glory said, and Darkstalker turned back to her, leaving Moon with her talons helplessly outstretched. "The RainWings need me, too. If I fought you, I'd be putting their tribe and throne at risk."
"Maybe I could be king of both tribes!" Darkstalker said. The entire world skipped a heartbeat. "Ha ha, just a joke. I have no interest in ruling a bunch of snoozy colorful vegetarians."
Coming from the person with no sense of humor, I felt faint at his joke. Not only was it all possible, but with everything that's been going on, it was even possibly likely.
"There's another alternative," Darkstalker went on. "You could just give me the NightWing throne." He shot a glance at Moon, as if to say, Look, I'm making an effort! Now do you approve?
"That would not be fair to the dragons here who swore loyalty to me," said Glory.
"Well," said Darkstalker, "let's all remember that they had a volcano pointed at their heads at the time. You're certainly more appealing than death by lava, but if there were a charming, handsome, superpowered NightWing as an option instead..."
Man did I want to facepalm so hard. I wouldn't be caught dead saying something like that.
Queen Glory looked out at the gathered NightWings.
There were too many minds, too many nervous faces for me to single out just one. But even without my abilities, I could tell there was discussion amongst the tribes. A plan was being formed.
"Oh," said Darkstalker, nodding at Glory. "Very interesting idea, Your Majesty."
Glory looked at him sharply.
I looked towards Grace sharply
I-I just barely heard it.
I looked back. Try and glean lessons from Darkstalker and Goldman, if you can. He managed to do that, I couldn't do that. See if you can learn.
I sensed her nodding.
"Let the NightWings choose for themselves," Darkstalker said. "Indeed. I could agree to that."
"I haven't offered it to you yet," said Glory. "In this time period, it's considered bad manners to read another dragon's thoughts."
Three of us hid our smirks.
"My apologies. But you had such a good idea. A peaceful transition of power — maybe dragons have evolved in the last two thousand years after all! What do you think?" Darkstalker said to the assembled NightWings. "Shall we put it to a vote, like some enormous sprawling mess of a council? King Darkstalker or Queen RainWing?"
"No," Queen Glory suddenly but cooly said, stepping forward into a bar of sunlight that lit up every one of her brilliant scales. "Not a vote. I don't want my tr — any NightWing to be forced to live somewhere or under someone they are unhappy with."
A cold flash ran up me, I took a shaky breath. Something about this was about to go massively out of our favor,
Glory studied the dark ebony dragons below her. "Those who wish to stay in the rainforest with me, in the village you've built with your own talons, are welcome here forever. Those who would rather follow Darkstalker to the old kingdom are free to go."
No.
Darkstalker looked down at the crowd, too, from a considerably greater distance, and he did not look pleased with what he saw and what he was likely hearing in their minds. "But you don't have to decide right now," he said quickly, slippery-smooth. "You should get to know me first! I presume Queen Glory won't mind if I spend a day or two in the rainforest, reacquainting myself with my tribe."
"Be our guest." Glory rested her quiet gaze on him for a moment — just a moment, while something puzzled flickered behind her eyes. Something that, even from here, still carried an electrical twang. Suspicious. But then she turned to Deathbringer, and the two of them hopped down from the stage to walk among the NightWings.
Well shit.