Solo Log: A Railroad Engineer, Not A Soldier

**Autumn 79, 492 AOV - Forest, east of Gagneux**

“I should have turned around and said my goodbyes when you told me what your commissions were for. Someone else could make your gadgets, and I could be at home improving Floyd’s mobility instead of here doing *this*.”

Florette hums and corrects Cleone’s posture with infuriating patience. "Don't point your elbow downward here unless you want to get whipped by the bowstring later."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Cleone obliges, focusing on the archer's stance Florette has drilled into her over the last year. The bow is a familiar weight at this point, and she has no idea what to think about that. "So what now?"

"Now you practice."

Cleone looks out in the distance to see nothing remarkable. "Florette, there's no target."

"That's because I'm the target." Florette holds up a small bundle of arrows that Cleone recognizes quite well: each one has a fragile glass bulb at its tip, filled with a harmless but very stubborn dye. Cleone herself made them at her friend's request, and now she's starting to realize why Florette has ditched her usual leather jacket for oversized and faded clothing she recognizes from their early university days. "I've taught you enough that you ought to know how to aim for the vitals on a humanoid target."

*"The hell?"*

"You're flinching."

Cleone doesn't know which is more frustrating, the off-center splatters on Florette's sweater showing how consistently she's missed her marks or Florette's knowing eyes as she fails each shot.

(She still doesn't know why Florette insists on this training. She's a railroad engineer, not a soldier. What use does she have for combat?)

Florette's comes back over to where Cleone's still standing with her bow and is now leaning against a tree. She still has that knowing expression, full of appraisal.

"You have good aim, Cleone," Florette continues. "The steadiest hands I've ever seen. You'd make a good hunter if you put your mind to it. But you're flinching whenever you aim at me, even under practice conditions."

Cleone hunches her shoulders. "That's normal, isn't it? I'm no trained soldier."

"Soldier, no. Trained, yes." And somehow that makes Cleone feel worse.

"Can we just…leave it for another time? Give me a while to get used to the thought." Cleone leans the bow against a different tree and looks back toward their camp. "You could have told me you wanted to play human target beforehand."

Florette is silent for a moment. Then: "You're not like him, you know."

Damn Florette, knowing her too well. "I better not be."

"I'm not trying to turn you into him, either. I hope you know that."

"Neither of us can be sure that this won't."

"Do you think I'm like the asshole?"

Cleone whirls around. Florette has her arms crossed now, still leaning against the tree casually. She doesn't blink, while Cleone falters. "That's different."

"How do you know that?"

Cleone averts her eyes, then sags against the same tree her bow rests against and takes a sudden interest in the leaves on a branch above her. The truth is she doesn't - she doesn't know what exactly the asshole did, nor does she know the exact nature of Florette's work. Comparing two unknowns is far beyond useless. "I believe in you more than I believe in him," she says instead. "I know you do what you do to keep Danor safe. He…I don’t know what he killed for."

"You're part of Danor, you know." Florette smiles wryly. Cleone smiles back, unable to argue; she's lived in Gagneux longer than she did in Terenz at this point, and she's been an official sworn citizen for two years now. "And I know you're going to do great things for Danor…if you survive long enough."

Cleone wants to roll her eyes - still a railroad engineer, still more likely to die from a work accident than any kind of murder attempt - but Florette's words hit their mark. Gagneux is her home in ways Terenz never fully was, and she wants to live up to the chances they've given her.

"Let me keep you safe." Florette stands up and closes the distance between them, gently bumping Cleone's shoulder with her own. "Let me show you how to keep yourself safe. If we're lucky, this will save your ass someday and we'll never need another war because you go on to solve the country. If we're very, very lucky, you'll never need to use any of this at all."

The specter of old memories sends a shudder through Cleone still, but eventually she nods. "Okay. I'll try again."

Florette crushes her in a hug.

"Oof--Florette--hey!"

It's another minute until Florette pulls back, taking a deep breath and looking Cleone in the eye. "You know I'd never ask you to do something you couldn't live with."

Cleone thinks of long nights sleeping in each other’s rooms because one of them didn't want to be alone. Days when Florette reappeared from work, and Cleone would chatter about cities she'd visited in her work at the rail company to lift the exhaustion from her eyes. A few rare days, where Florette held her hand for an hour because Cleone needed a reminder that her skin was her own.

"Yeah, yeah." She stretches her arms upward before picking up the bow. "Go and get ready to look like a human art gallery already."

Florette hugs her again, more gently this time, before patting her on the shoulder and running off.