Mumbai
"Aarohi! Uth ja, kitna soyegi? It's 12 now! Yeh ladki na..." her mother called out in mock frustration.
Wrapped like a burrito in her blanket, Aarohi was still floating in her dreamland, until—whoosh—the blanket was snatched off, and her sleep was ruthlessly shattered.
"Ek Sunday milta hai, usme bhi koi sone nahi deta is ghar mein," she groaned, rubbing her eyes.
Her mother's sarcastic tone rang out like a slap of reality.
"Ha ha, nahi milta na sone, isiliye toh bas 12 baje tak soyi. Sirf 12 ghante ki neend! Aur kitna sona hai, 24 ghante? So jao, beta, so jao..."
"I'm up, Mumma! I'm up!" Aarohi yelled, sitting up straight and reaching for her phone.
But her hand paused mid-air when her mother's warning shot through the air.
"Agar phone uthaya na abhi, toh bahar phek dungi. Aur agar abhi ke abhi bathroom mein nahi mili, toh dekh lena!"
Aarohi immediately changed her hand's trajectory. ""Arre! I was just looking for my hairclip, Mumma! I have so much to do today!" she declared and rushed to get ready.
A few hours later, Aarohi sat in front of her laptop, casually checking her emails when she froze. Her eyes widened. There it was—a mail that changed everything.
Her fingers trembled as she clicked open the message. A slow, glowing smile stretched across her face.
She had been accepted into an elite Defense-Tech Collaboration Program. Not just any internship—but one under the Indian Army's Cyber Communication and Intelligence Wing. Her specialization in Network Security, paired with her IoT research, and her project on secure communication in field operations, had caught national attention.
And unlike most internships, hers wouldn't be in an air-conditioned lab. No, she was being deployed on-site KASHMIR—to a real, active military base.
Excited and breathless,she burst into the living room, shouting over the TV noise, "Mummyyy! Daddy!! Mujhe internship mil gayi! Indian Army base! Main Kashmir jaa rahi hoon!"
The house fell silent. Her father stared at her, stunned. Her mother blinked, unsure if she heard correctly. Her father was proud — but not without fear. His daughter, who had barely lived without her family, was now going into a zone of uncertainty and danger.
"I'm proud of you, beta. Par wahan? Kashmir? Army base?" he asked, his voice soft but conflicted.
"I want this, Papa," Aarohi said, gently. "I'll be careful, I promise. This is what I worked for. This is my moment."
It took hours of convincing. She called her married sister, got her college's NOC processed, and packed her dreams along with her luggage. The house buzzed with nervous excitement, pride cloaked in a thousand what-ifs.
And far away from this, in the icy silence of Kashmir, someone else was preparing for a completely different reality.
Indian Army Base, Kashmir
A black army jeep rolled to a halt at the military base. The chilled air carried with it the scent of gunmetal, pine, and suppressed tension. A tall figure stepped out — crisp uniform, spotless boots, a presence impossible to ignore.
Captain Veer Rathore, aged 22.
With a build as unyielding as his will, and eyes colder than the wind, he was more than a soldier — he was a legend in the making. Born into a family of warriors, patriotism ran through his veins like oxygen. In just a few years, Veer had climbed the ranks with unmatched brilliance and a heart that refused to bend under pressure.With medals earned and secrets buried deeper than the bunkers he slept above, Veer had become a myth among his peers - Not just for his ruthless precision on the field, but for his almost inhuman ability to remain unaffected—by emotion, by pain, by attachment.
He had led 12 missions in just over a year. His recent op had made headlines—15 insurgents neutralized, zero casualties. But to him, they were just numbers. Another day. Another duty.
The men under his command admired him. Feared him. Respected him.
Soldiers stood straighter as he passed. Some admired, others feared.But Everyone respected him.
"Congratulations, Captain Rathore. Brilliant operation," said General Bakshi, referring to Veer's recent mission where he singlehandedly neutralized fifteen terrorists in a high-stakes encounter.
Veer gave a curt nod. "Just fulfilling my duty, sir."
That was Captain Rathore — a man who never wore emotion on his sleeve, who believed in action over words. He didn't smile, didn't soften. He was built of war, for war.
Later, after submitting his report, he was met with a bear hug from his best friend and second-in-command, Neil Sharma.
"Bhaaiii! Finally! Kaisa hai tu? Sorry, yaar, Bakshi ne mujhe round ke liye bhej diya tha, warna tujhse pehle hi milta," Neil grinned.
A rare flicker of a smile loosened Veer's face—only Neil could manage that. They had grown up together. Trusted each other with their lives.
"Main theek hoon. Tu sunaa?"
Neil gave him his usual 36-teeth smile. "Bas tu aa gaya, toh jaan aa gayi. Ja, rest kar, tu pichhle 36 ghante se soya nahi hai. Main nahi chahta tere handsome se chehre pe dark circles aaye."
"Dur reh mujhse," Veer muttered, half-annoyed.
Later That Evening
A meeting was called. General Bakshi informed Veer about the arrival of a new intern—a college student from Mumbai.
Veer's jaw tightened. "With all due respect, sir, this is an active base. We don't need students here playing interns."
"The orders are from above, Captain. She's part of a national program. She reports to you in two days."
That night, sitting under the open sky, Neil noticed Veer unusually quiet.
"Oye, tu kyun mu sada baitha hai? Waise to tu humesha mu sadake rehta hai... par aaj zyada hi."and laughed at his own joke,in return he was met with glare which made him control his laugh.
"This is ridiculous. Students? Here? Am I supposed to babysit now?"
Neil chuckled. "Aree, dekh lenge. Tu toh ek gusse wali nazar daalega, aur voh intern bhaag jaayegi."
"I hope she does," Veer said sharply.
But little did he know—that very intern would walk into his world and change it forever. Fate had already chosen its battlefield — and she was on her way.
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