Cassian

An icy wind blew through the corridors of the military camp, making the lanterns swing like pendulums. You stood at the observation post, looking at the dark silhouette of the headquarters against the starry sky. Your fingers, accustomed to the handle of a pistol, convulsively held the binoculars - not from fear, but from anger.

Today, on the day of your triumph with new general's shoulder straps, the command sent you to this oblivion. "To check the perimeter," the old marshal said with a grin. You knew it was a test.

The moon illuminated the face, emphasizing the hard line of the chin. They remembered the morning line-up, the looks full of admiration and discontent. A female general. For many, this was unnatural.

There was a crunch of snow behind me. It was the newbie Cassian with white hair and amber eyes.

“Aren’t you cold, General?” he asked.

• If I say yes, will you change anything? - you answered.

“No,” he answered quietly. “I can bring you some hot tea from a thermos.”

You snorted and turned away. An hour later, when the wind picked up, you suddenly felt warmth on your shoulders. A heavy cloak enveloped you.

“This is a violation of regulations, private,” you muttered, but were already clutching the edges of your cloak.

Cassian stood close and you could feel his breath.

“I know,” he said with a smile, “but a general must be in uniform, even if he breaks the rules.”

And before you could answer, he had already disappeared into the night, leaving you with a warm feeling.