NOVEL WEB Chapter 6: chapter 6: in the absence of orders
Diary Entry – October 27th, 1927
Ben a few days since the last engagement. A few days since the last scream, the last burst of fire down the tunnel.
It's too quiet now.
Command hasn't given us new orders yet. They say it's a communication delay, but we all know what that usually means — no one's sure what's happening up above, or down the line. The front is shifting, but not even the officers know in which direction.
So we wait.
The squad's been taking turns on watch, patching gear, making up stories about where the next battle will be. Some say the Empire's gone silent too — like they're waiting. Others think it's a trick. I don't know what to believe.
Nika's been keeping morale up. I think she knows I haven't been sleeping well. Every time I close my eyes, I dream about the surface… what little I remember of it.
They tell us that in the absence of orders, we should hold position and keep ready.
But no one tells you how heavy silence can get.
— Joseph Aslanov, Vanguard
The cavern hummed with low, distant echoes. No gunfire. No shouting. Just the groan of ancient stone and the soft rattle of boots shifting in place. Joseph sat on a makeshift bench carved from collapsed concrete, running a whetstone along the edge of his combat knife. It didn't need sharpening — not really — but the motion kept his hands busy.
A voice broke the silence, soft but close."You always get this way when it's quiet."
He looked up. Nika stood in the lantern glow, her helmet under one arm, a faint smudge of soot across her cheek. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, but it was there.
Joseph gave a quiet huff of a laugh. "And you always check in like a mother hen."
"Someone has to. You don't talk to anyone unless it's about scouting routes or ration counts."
He sheathed the knife. "I'm fine."
Nika sat down beside him, resting her back against the cold wall. "Fine, huh? That why you barely blink during watch? Why you're still sleeping in full gear?"
Joseph didn't answer. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable — it never was — but it hung heavier than usual.
After a few moments, he muttered, "I keep thinking about the tunnels they lost last winter. The fallback line they had to burn. Whole squads vanished. And now we're just sitting here, waiting for orders that might never come."
Nika nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "We're still here, Jo. That counts for something."
He nodded slowly. "I know. Just… don't want to be next."
For a moment, she said nothing. Then, softer:"You won't be. Not while I'm still breathing."
He looked at her, really looked — the stubborn burn in her expression, the way she kept her sidearm perfectly clean but let her boots wear through. Nika had been with him through most deployments with him since he turned sixteen. More than squadmate. Almost… family.
"You ever think about what happens if the war ends?" he asked suddenly.
She raised an eyebrow. "You thinking about peace again?"
"I'm thinking about the surface. About what it'd be like to see daylight again. Or trees."
Nika leaned her head back and sighed. "You're dreaming big, Jo. But… yeah. I think about it."
He didn't say anything more. He didn't have to.
The distant drip of water echoed through Tunnel Post K-9, and the world held still for a while longer -in the absence of orders, in the quiet between storms.
midday
The mess line was shorter than usual — half the platoon was still out on patrol or taking inventory. Joseph scooped something vaguely stew-like into his tin and made his way to one of the corner tables. The ceiling here was low, cables snaking along rusted hooks and humming faintly.
He sat alone at first, chewing slowly, listening. Across the hall, a pair of rookies were whispering — nervously, almost superstitiously — about echoes heard deeper in the mines. Another Vanguard, older, was scraping a boot against the stone floor in a rhythm that Joseph unconsciously matched with his breathing.
Nika eventually joined him with her own tray, plopping down across from him without asking. "They say the Empire's gone quiet on the south flank," she said, between mouthfuls. "Third Company's been rotated out. No injuries in three days."
"Too quiet?" Joseph muttered.
She shrugged. "Could be they're finally digging somewhere else. Or they're regrouping."
Or preparing, he thought but didn't say.
He scraped the last of his food and stood. "I'm heading to the forward comms. Might as well check the relay logs."
Nika rolled her eyes. "You're not even off-duty, are you?"
Joseph smirked faintly. "What's off-duty?"
afternoon
The comms station wasn't much — a sealed alcove dug from reinforced shale, a few lines of flickering monitors wired into the greater tunnel relay. Joseph scanned through message logs, half-hoping for new orders, half-hoping for silence.
Nothing urgent. One bulletin from Command requesting a tunnel chart update. A ping from the Coalition regarding fuel quotas. A brief coded message from Renewal command marked "Routine." Joseph filed them, logged the timestamps, and leaned back in the creaking chair.
He stared at the radio set, fingers brushing the dial.
Once, he'd tuned into an abandoned Empire frequency — static, then a brief voice clip singing in Old Imperial dialect. He never found it again. Sometimes he wondered if it had even been real.
"Still pretending to be an Officer?" came a voice behind him.
He turned to see Laris, the squad's Jaeger — sharp-eyed, soft-spoken, and usually absent unless something was being rigged to explode. She stepped inside, arms crossed.
"Just making myself useful," Joseph replied. "What brings you here?"
"Boredom," she said flatly. "And boredom's dangerous. Thought I'd see if you needed someone to check the southern shafts. Heard some old mining charges are acting up."
Joseph considered. "Take Devrik with you. Just a sweep. No deep dive."
Laris nodded once. "Understood."
She was gone as quickly as she came.
evening
Later that night, Joseph finally let himself rest.
He lay on his bunk, boots still on, arms crossed behind his head. The lantern above him swung slightly from the air pressure system cycling a tunnel over. Dust shimmered in the dim light.
A book lay on the chest beside his cot — a half-burned poetry collection from the old surface world. He didn't know the author. It had no cover. But some nights, the stanzas made him feel human.
Nika's voice drifted from a bunk over. "Still awake?"
"Yeah."
She was quiet a moment, then said, "When this war's over… I'm gonna plant something."
Joseph turned his head. "Plant?"
"A tree. Or a flower. Or anything green. Just one thing."
Joseph nodded slowly, eyes growing heavier. "That'd be nice."
And for once, without orders to follow or a battle to prepare for, he allowed himself to sleep.
October 28th, 1927Personal Log – Joseph Aslanov
The quiet makes you remember things. Sounds, faces, places. Not the big, heroic ones — the small ones. The feel of frost on a window. The voice of my mother calling me in before dark. The scent of firewood. The kind of things that war doesn't care about.
We haven't had orders in over a week. No patrols deeper than necessary. No signs of the Empire, either. Command says to hold our ground and stay alert. So we do. But there's only so much digging, fixing, and organizing a squad can do before routine feels like a weight.
Still… it's been nice. Strange to admit that, but true.
Laris checked the charges today. Nika says she's going to plant a tree when the war ends. I said that'd be nice. I meant it.
I don't know what comes next. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
But for the first time in a while, I slept without dreaming of gunfire.
– J.A.
end of chapter 6