Chapter Text
The only good thing about the name of her soul mate was where it was located. Very few people had a reason to see the bottom of your foot.
Right where I can grind him into the dirt whenever I'm angry.
It was especially fortunate when you managed to get yourself conscripted. She'd been certain she was about to be discovered, but there was no mandatory foot inspection. Odd, considering how much marching was involved in the daily life of a Militia soldier.
“Hey, Foster. Looks like it might get cold tonight.” A wandering hand traced over her hip. “How about we put our tents together? Keep each other warm?”
They never learned.
Charlie brought her heel down on the instep of the other soldier. He yelped and stepped back in reflex, giving her enough room to turn and send a balled fist into his solar plexus. There were several moves like this and she and the other female recruits had been drilled in over and over again. Their instructors had said they wanted them to be able to do them in their sleep, just in case someone got the bright idea to come at them after lights out.
“What's the ruckus?!” She hadn't realized the two mounts of the unit were that close, but as Buckley got back into an upright position and was about to make a move towards her, a beautiful chestnut gelding stepped between them. Though she didn't see it, she heard the other soldier give a muffled sound as what was likely a polished boot clipped him in the face. “Oh, sorry about that, Sergeant. Didn't see you there. Everything all right, Foster?”
“Yes, Sir. Everything is fine.” She suspected Captain Baker had kicked the other soldier on purpose. Jeremy Baker was one of the better officers you could draw, especially if you were female. He didn't truck with guys trying to force a woman. Six months prior they had caught a soldier raping a girl he'd found gathering kindling in the woods. Baker had dragged him back to his garrison and ordered the commander to call a formation. There he had the soldier given fifty lashes while everyone watched. There'd been barely any skin left on the man's back afterwards. Everyone knew what the punishment was for.
Now he swung down from his horse, handing her the reigns. “Take care of him, would you? You're the only one he'll obey, probably because you're more muleheaded than he is.” As he got closer, the officer pitched his voice lower. “If someone needs to fall on his face a few times, I can get real lost in a good book for a while.”
She really could have ended up with much worse for a commanding officer. “Probably shouldn't tempt me, Sir.”
“If you're sure. All the same, make sure to pitch your tent next to mine. I'll sleep better, and I'm so much easier to get along with when I get plenty of sleep.”
“Yes, Sir.”
~***~
“Why so glum, soldier?” Baker nudged Charlie's shoulder playfully with one of his boots from his perch on the gelding. “We're home again.”
“When was the last time you had to sleep in the barracks, Sir?”
He grinned. “Never. My job came with a house.”
“Good for you.”
He nudged her again, no malice in it. “Easily remedied. I could recommend you for the academy. We give homes to officers who renew their commission after the first round. It'd only take you four years. Less if you can test out of some of your basic courses.”
“Uhm... let's go with 'no' on that one.”
“Aww, come on! Better pay. Better food. Access to state dinners when you're in the city. Way more pros than cons. Company...Halt!”
The two lines of soldiers came to a stop before the barracks and Baker swung down from his horse. “You boys go ahead and get settled in.” He handed the reigns to Charlie. The women's barracks were further down the way and his horse wouldn't cooperate for anyone other than him or her anyway. “In all seriousness, Foster, you're too damn smart to waste among the enlisted, and an officer's rank will give you even more protection. Not all commanding officers pay as close attention to what's going on as I do, and it's not always a given that you'll be assigned to me. But you make officer, and the bulk of the Militia has to mind their P's and Q's around you.”
“I'm a conscript, Sir. I never planned to hang in for the long haul.”
“I know, but what else have you got? What, you gonna go back to whatever small town you grew up in and marry some dirt farmer who may be half as smart as you? Pop out a kid every year until it kills you? You'd be wasted on that life and you know it.” He nudged her shoulder. “Come on. At least take the entrance exam and see if you'd qualify. You can walk over with me now and get it over and done with, then take the next four days to unwind.”
“I really don't think I'd fit in at the Academy.”
“You'd fucking stand out and you know it. Come on, it's just an exam. One little test. What's the harm?”
He did have a point. It was likely the next time she got assigned out she might pull an officer who didn't care what his boys did or might even use his rank to force her into his bedroll for his own amusement. Baker looked after his female soldiers like they were his kid sisters, only armed and dangerous. Even the base rank of lieutenant would grant her a higher amount of security.
Jeremy could sense that she was waffling. “Come on. You owe me for having your back the past six months, anyway.”
She rolled her eyes. “That's low.”
“Take the entrance exam and we'll call it even.” She rolled her eyes again, letting out a sigh and he knew he'd won. “Great! Get Bubbs settled in and we'll head over together. That's my girl.” He patted her shoulder as she started leading the horse towards the stable.
A short time later they were walking down the streets. Jeremy had sent stable hands to carry their gear too the respective locations, something she only got to take advantage of because she was with him at the time.
“Oh, we need to stop here, first.” Baker was indicating Independence Hall, the one building she usually tried to avoid at all costs. “I need to hand in my field reports to the generals.”
“I can wait here, Sir.”
“Oh, don't be silly. Matheson doesn't really bite. That's just some dumb rumor that got started after Baltimore. You'll be fine.” He took her by the elbow before she could protest and steered her into the massive building. “Now this is one place I'm glad I don't live.” His voice was pitched low to avoid carrying. “It'd be like living in a freaking museum.”
“Keep it up and I'll promote you so you have to move in.” Both of them jumped and turned to see the tall, imposing form of Miles Matheson standing behind them. “After all, why should I have to suffer alone?”
“General Matheson, I was just on my way to see you.”
“You couldn't clean up first?”
“Last time I did you chewed me out for the delay.”
Miles arched a single brow at him, slid his eyes over to take in Charlie, then looked back at Baker. “Who's your friend?”
“This is Corporal Charlotte Foster. I'm taking her over to the Academy to how she scores on the entrance exam. I'm betting she'll blow the Neville kid's score out of the water.”
Charlie watched surprise cross her father's face and told herself to not blow her cover. “Really? No need to go all to the other side of the city. This way.” He walked with them a few yards down to a pair of double doors that opened up to what was apparently his office. “Stuart!”
A young lieutenant in a perfect uniform rose from the smaller desk. The general's personal secretary, she guessed. “Yes, Sir?”
“Captain Baker wants the corporal here to take the academy's entrance exam. See to that, will you?” Miles gestured for her to go into the office. “Baker will be with me in the President's office when you're done.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Miles shut the door behind her and Charlie faced the rather dour looking young officer. He looked about her age, and less than impressed with her.
“You can take a seat over there.” He pointed to a small table with four chairs that looked about the right size for a small dinner or a game of poker between buddies. Charlie took a seat while he got out a copy of the examination papers from a polished file cabinet. There looked to be forty pages with a blank cover page as he set it before her with two sharpened pencils. “You'll have ninety minutes to finish the exam from the moment I tell you start. You can use the back of the pages for scratch paper for the math questions.” He looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. “You may begin...now.”
Charlie unfastened the binder clip holding the exam sheets together and turned to the first page. The exam started with reading and comprehension. Easy enough.
~***~
“No. No.” Jeremy waved Miles' hand away. “No more. I need to be able to at least walk home.”
“Isn't that what you brought the girl for?”
“It's not like that! You know it's not! She got assigned to me and I've just been keeping an eye on her.”
Bass looked between them. “What girl?”
“Oh, Baker adopted another kitten. We sat her down to take the academy exam in my office.”
“She cute?”
“Fucking adorable!” Jeremy poured himself another glass of whiskey even though he'd just declined. “She has these big blue eyes and this smile that just...lights up the whole place. And smart! Way, way too smart to be wasted on the enlisted ranks. She'll pass that exam. Just wait and see.” He looked at the clock. “She should be done by now. We told her we'd be in here, right?”
Miles frowned, prodding his memory. “Pretty sure I did.” He checked the clock as well. It had been almost two and one half hours, more than enough time for her to have taken the exam. “Maybe she headed to the barracks instead? She was just as filthy as you are. You're starting to stink, by the way.”
“Fuck you, Sir.” Baker said it with a smile on his face. When it was just the three of them together, they were less than strict. He was about to further detail what Miles could do with his private parts when there was a sharp knock at the door.
Bass bit off a snort. “Enter!”
Miles' secretary came in with a sheaf of papers. Baker spied Charlie in the antechamber past his shoulder. “Hey! Foster! Get in here!” She hurried inside the office, carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone. Especially not with President Monroe. “Have you been standing out there all this time?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Miles took the exam paper from his secretary and dismissed him. The lieutenant had a copy of the test key so things could be done efficiently. He blinked as he looked at the results. “Perfect score.”
That got the attention of Bass and Jeremy both. Monroe walked over to take the papers in hand. “Even the trig question? No one gets the trig question.”
Jeremy had developed a big, goofy grin. “You've been holding back on me, Foster. Who taught you higher math?”
She didn't see the harm in the truth, not at this point. Besides, if she concentrated on Baker she could continue to ignore Monroe's eyes on her. “We had what passed for a school. It was run by this guy who worked for some computer thing before the Blackout. He was smart, really stressed things like math and physics.”
“That sounds like someone we could use here.” Monroe's voice was comforting and deep. “Maybe send someone out to talk to him. Offer him an academic position.”
“He's not there any more.” She shrugged. “This inspection run we just got back from, we went to the village where I grew up. He was gone.”
“Her whole family was.” Baker gave her a sympathetic look, the same one he gave her when she'd learned her family had pulled up stakes and left after she had run away from home. She'd only just managed to keep him from finding out her real last name. Thankfully the people at Sylvania Estates only referred to her as 'Charlie'. They didn't even mention her brother, just her 'folks'.
She managed another shrug. “Mom and me weren't that close. Always butting heads. She said I was too much like my father.”
“Are you?”
Funny thing, General Matheson, I probably am. “I don't know. I never had the chance to really know him.”
“That's a shame. Well, at least you'll get to know yourself. With a score like this, I'll be keeping an eye on you. Good find, Baker.”
“Thank you, General.” Jeremy got to his feet, somewhat wobbly thanks to the whiskey. “Now, do you think we can head out. I, for one, would like to find a hot bath. Pretty sure Foster here would like to escape the big, scary officers as well.”
“Get lost. Both of you.”
~***~
Baker had wrangled a four day liberty for most of the unit, but now that she was officially an Academy Cadet, she was on her own until the next round of classes, giving her a ten day break to move her few meager belongings from the female barracks to the female dorms. There was room for total of twenty female cadets, but she was the only one starting this quarter and thus got her own room. Since she got there late in the evening, she had the baths to herself.
Midnight found her sitting on her new bed, about the same as the bunks in the barracks, braiding her hair. She needed to be extra careful. She needed to avoid being in the same room with either her father or her so-called 'soul mate'.
Tears threatened to sting her eyes and she wiped them away angrily. 'Soul mate'. What a fucking joke.
She used to believe the fairy tails. The romantic stories about soul mates being the perfect love, unsullied and true. She'd argued with her mother, Ben and Maggie over and over, wanting to know why they weren't going to Philadelphia. Why weren't they making preparations for her to meet up with Sebastian Monroe? She had been almost seventeen and the distance between Wisconsin and Philly was over one thousand miles. The trip would take at least six weeks if they were fortunate, and someone of his rank and standing was probably expected to have some drawn out, over-the-top affair of a wedding. That would take planning, though she'd be happy to skip it if it meant she could avoid large crowds and dancing.
Her seventeenth birthday came and went and still no indications that her family was going to help. If anything, her mother seemed determined to ignore that she had a soul mark at all. Ben didn't want to talk about it, which she understood given that she had already learned about Miles and her true parentage thanks to having overheard one of the nastier arguments between him and Rachel. Maggie seemed more intent on trying to find a holistic way to help her with the depression and mood swings that came with being separated from her intended partner rather than do anything to bring her into the orbit of the man who ruled the Monroe Republic.
So, one day, Charlie had packed what she needed to survive and ran away. She braved the journey from her little village and made it all the way to Philadelphia on her own. She'd gotten past the bridge guards by saying she was looking for work, not sure who she could trust with the truth before she actually found her father and Monroe. After a while she'd learned that both of them frequented the same pub after hours.
Filled to the brim with eagerness and the belief that everything would be perfect the moment they saw one another, she'd bartered what few ounces of gold she had to her name for a hotel room with a bath and a pretty dress with simple flat shoes that matched it far better than her boots. Clean and dressed, she'd made her way to the pub.
They'd been seated at a table with Baker, all laughing and relaxed. She'd picked them out easily, there were enough sketches of Matheson and Monroe that she'd known their faces for a while. They hadn't spotted her thanks to the crowd and she was trying to find a way through.
She'd only made it half way across the room when she saw her. The red head wearing something that barely deserved to be called a dress. The woman had helped herself to Monroe's lap and practically shoved her tongue down his throat.
And her soul mate did absolutely nothing to stop her.
In fact, the son of a bitch reciprocated! Kissed her back and let a hand wander over her hip as though he wasn't already spoken for! Her so-called father wasn't any help, either. Miles Matheson had behaved as though it was just another night on the town.
Bastards. Both of them.
She'd felt complete and utter humiliation, but thankfully no one other than herself had been aware of the fact. Heart shattered, she'd turned around and pushed her way back out of the pub to return to her modest hotel room and cried herself to sleep.
The next day she'd left Philadelphia, promising herself that she was going to forget all about Sebastian Two-Faced Monroe and return home. Two weeks out from the city her luck had run out when her path had crossed that of a conscription team. Sure she could have gotten out of it by telling them who she was, but her pride refused to let her. She'd rather serve in the Militia under a false name than go crawling back to her so-called soul mate.
Now here she was in the female dorms for the Militia Academy, scheduled to see the quartermaster first thing in the morning to trade in her enlisted uniforms for those of a cadet and to start sitting for various tests to see if she could skip the basic courses. The dean said that he thought she likely could given her perfect score on the entrance exam.
So, now all she had to do was keep under the radar for the duration of her education until she got her lieutenant's bar and then not draw the higher ups' attention unduly until she could either leave the Militia for good without deserting or score an assignment somewhere a comfortable distance away from Philadelphia.
Or you could just walk back over to Independence Hall, tell Monroe who you are and then punch him right in his perfect nose. Maybe get a few good kicks to the balls while you're at it and demand he explain himself. Maybe you could work it out.
Right. Right.
Not in this century.