The Commandant

 

She had studied Ayleah as well, especially as she more and more considered the intriguing girl a part of her natural studies. Atkins had been hired on to the crew as a navigator, but as she traveled further into the mountain she had become enamored with the woodland flora, signs of fauna, and the technical geology that underlay it all. Her journal began to fill equally with notes about the characteristics of ferns as it did with travel tips from local experience. She had been well-trained for expeditions and learned in regional maps, but had never before traveled to the high mountain communities and seen their natures in person.

The trip had given her yet a new sense or appreciation of beauty. It had always seemed a fleeting thing, growing up. Only here and there was something deemed extraordinary and held in high aesthetic regard. When she went to Fort Ettan for training, she had known a different, more stable sense of beauty. It had come from an evening routine that she had kept in those days, finding small quiet moments to reflect. She had liked to stand, in the eve of one of the base's little side doors, for a few moments watching the transition of day to night. It was in an unobtrusive part of the base, and not used much at this time of day. From there though she could see patrolmen on their twilight rounds, their shadows flung and faded by the security lights. The sky would be its deepest shade of glowing blue: any dimmer and it would merge with the horizon of treetops. The lights of the fort created a tight patchwork on the open spaces of grass and tarmac. Varied arrays of lights on other buildings created a pretty tableau. It was not the cozy setting of a village, but had a starkness that she liked and felt comforting nonetheless. It was a beauty that came not just from the momentary sights and sounds, but also from her knowledge of the workings behind that tableau. Beautiful things were even more spectacular when you knew how their systems worked, or what it meant that they did.

Atkins had been well-liked at the base, to the effect that upon graduating the Commandant of the fort issued her a special recommendation letter. With the letter she was assured a favorable first impression on any reputable captain in the region. Commandant Riannath had been a good and fair leader, and Atkins considered her a role model even if their lives had very different types of goals. She had seemed to really care about her charges, and took the security of the base very seriously. The combination of strict order and warmheartedness was admirable in a person of such high standing, and its effect on the fort's operations was obvious.

Riannath herself was not blind to others' perception of her, and held a quiet pride in the place she had made for herself. She had risen through the ranks of the militia, gaining respect from soldiers and citizens alike for her honesty and clear sight. In truth it was easy for her to maintain the perception; she loved what she did for the community and the Empire at large. The military title itself was about as ornamental as that of the Emperor these days. A long-reigning peace had long since shifted the priorities of those offices. As a Regional Commandant, Riannath oversaw mainly civil projects. From the base, her command led large-scale engineering work for the metropolis, as well as storm-water response during weather events. In between were outreach projects to nearby smaller population centers, and drills to keep them ready should the peace ever be threatened.

Not much happened in the Winniaska Valley that escaped the Commandant's ears for long. Surely the metro leaders in the real governmental halls had their own lines of communication, but she was glad of her independence in this regard. If her reputation with the towns- and city-folk was good, her relationship with her soldiers and rangers was even better. Her information held a reliability that she could not get from the metro news, and it often came faster as well.

Riannath did not apprehend that she had achieved her success alone; she owed much to her network of rangers and confidants. They spanned a good breadth of society, and always helped her to understand the greater world, bringing her unique perspectives. They helped to bridge the unavoidable sort of divide between those who worked for the system and the rest of the population. She felt that divide anywhere she went, identifiable as she was. People behaved differently around a person of status or authority. Sometimes she thought it might be easier to be one of the common folk, living out one's life in some small city on the outskirts. Her job held concerns the average citizen would never guess. They had freedom from those worries. They created their own purposes, often for no other reason than that they wished for a purpose. Their worries were their own, hers were those of the whole metropolis. Riannath thought sometimes that it is easier to exist in relation to the system than as a part of its inner workings. She never regretted her path though. The tall militia leader cherished the bonds she had formed, and the power she had to help. At times of disaster, she was often well-prepared, having pieced together the necessary information ahead of the chaos. She made sure she had the knowledge she needed for anything that might be coming because protection of the good structures society had created was paramount to her. That which was good in the world came from structure, properly built and maintained. These structures could be on a grand physical scale, or they could be as the organization of thoughts and feelings in therapy work. In any case, when done properly and for the right reasons, they became beneficial to the future of the city, or the individual, or the relationship involved.

It was for this reason she had initially been drawn to governance. There are systems of government at all levels. Each little village out there in the rural lands has its own Premir and town council, however lowly or high their offices may be. It is a natural sense for people to create structure when joining in community for the good of all. They combine knowledge and resource gathering to make easier lives for each other. Furthermore, townships will often bind together under the domain of a nearby city, benefiting from that relationship in access to goods and services. Neighboring alliances of this sort then all accept certain rules as standard among themselves, forming another level of governance. Eventually, metropolis councils are assembled. Cities in close proximity send delegates to a central location to decide on mutually beneficial living conditions. Even higher, regional governments oversee the behavior of multiple metro areas at once. The concerns at all levels are slightly different, though ideally all aimed at the same goal. It all inspired Riannath, though she had quickly realized only the military arm of the regional governance upheld professionalism to her standards.

Her reason for inspiration earlier in life was also the cause for her disquiet more recently. The real cause were the rangers' reports of late, but her underlying disposition did not help. What did was to tell herself that they were only the overheard rumors of townsfolk. People passed rumors all the time, few of them with any full merit. Still, it was the eerie commonality of these tales from disparate places. Travelers who've reported cloudier days and cold winds on the hillsides, and farmers who swear the night sky has changed even as their neighbors call them lunatics. Even if only some part of these stories were true, it might be the harbinger of some calamity Riannath could not see.

She looked over toward the empty corner, where this whole concerning line of thought had started. The Commandant still did her personal rounds outside, even though one of those scheduled walks had been the instigating event. She enjoyed doing a regular patrol of the base (a part of it at a time). It kept her leadership more hands-on, and she was able to get a feel for the overall workings of the fort. The walk was also long enough for some good thinking time, and almost meditative when the base was quiet. She would sometimes end up near the edge of the base, where a tall fence separated the trimmed military lawn from a rural woodland township on the other side. There was a bare section of ground here: a no-mans-land that was kept clear but not used for anything. On that particular day she had been letting her mind drift (as much as she ever did), her eyes scanning the patrol routine. When looking for anomalies among the very familiar, the mind can detach slightly from the conscious process, operating on automatic. Riannath noticed the environment around her as well as the mundane things of the fort. It was a nice day, and clouds studded a pleasant faded sky. There had been a windstorm one of the previous nights, knocking some leaves from the towering edge of the township. They looked artistic scattered on the short grass, and Riannath went closer to take a look. As she got nearer, something did stand out from the familiar landscape. One of the leaves was inexplicably yellow. The Commandant looked up at the branches high above her. None of the trees seemed sickly, and there were no other visible leaves colored anything but the standard green. Some trees differed in their tone or shade of green, but leaves were never this yellow unless there was something wrong. She inspected the leaf on both sides, covering her nose and mouth in case of fungus, but found nothing. It was simply a yellow leaf. She kept it to herself, but quietly sent out for news from the rangers. What they had eventually reported to her had not made matters better.