Mumbai – Two Days Later
"You've packed your socks, right? And that thermal innerwear, jackets we bought—"
"Mumma..." Aarohi sighed, zipping up her duffel bag. "I'm going to Kashmir, not the Himalayas."
"Bas! Zyada smart mat ban. Wahan barf girti hai! It's not Mumbai ki garmi!" Her mother's voice cracked slightly, betraying the worry beneath the scolding.
Aarohi looked around her room. The fairy lights. The books. The photographs. All static reminders of a version of her that was safe, comfortable, protected.
Now she was flying into the unknown. And something about that thrilled her—like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing she was meant to jump.
She hugged her father one last time—longer than usual. His embrace was tight and quiet, filled with a thousand unspoken thoughts.She hugged her Mother and elder brother Aarav. Her mother wiped away a tear, failing miserably at pretending to be strong.
"I'll be fine," Aarohi whispered.
And with that, she left. Eyes ahead. Mind racing. Heart steady.
Srinagar Military Base – Arrival
A military jeep was waiting at the airport. The driver—a gruff man in uniform with an unreadable expression (somewhere between shocked, doubtful, astonished, and... something else she couldn't place)—checked her documents twice, verified her biometrics, and finally gestured to the jeep.
The checking wasn't unexpected—but she hadn't imagined it would start so soon, or be this strict.
As the jeep raced past snow-covered roads and fortified checkpoints, she pressed her nose to the glass. Kashmir. Raw. Stark. Beautiful. And so different from the chaos of Mumbai.
Soon, the jeep turned into a secure zone—the army base. Bunkers, sandbags, soldiers patrolling. This wasn't just another place. It was another world.
The jeep halted at the entrance. She was thoroughly checked again, met with curious expressions. Some smiled. Most didn't. But all stared—like she was an alien dropped into their world.
She kept her expression calm. Smiling—her default defense.
As the vehicle rolled through the main gate, soldiers in crisp uniforms snapped to attention. The base was a steel city of discipline, quietly buzzing with activity. Aarohi took a deep breath and stepped out, clutching her small backpack.
Instantly, a hush fell over the crowd nearby. It wasn't just her arrival—they'd been told an intern was coming. But no one had expected... her.
Barely five feet tall, she looked fragile against the backdrop of towering soldiers in combat gear.
Her boots crunched against the icy gravel. Her breath fogged in the air.
A soldier approached. "Miss Aarohi Sharma?" he asked.
She nodded.
He saluted crisply. "You'll be briefed shortly. Please follow me."
Aarohi walked silently, eyes wide at the intense surroundings. Soldiers training with laser focus. Distant gunfire. Guards stationed at every corner.
She clutched her two trolley bags, a backpack, and her sling bag tighter.
Inside the debriefing room, a junior officer handed her a file. "This contains your schedule, protocols, and clearance badge. You've been assigned under Captain Veer Rathore—Field Operations Commander. Any questions?"
Aarohi blinked. "Captain Veer who?"
The officer smirked. "You'll know him when you see him."
She was instructed to report to him immediately. The name felt foreign. Heavy. She was nervous. Fearful. But her spine stayed straight as she knocked on the cabin door.
"Come in," a hoarse, deep voice called.
Inside stood a 6'4" man—an unmissable presence. Broad-shouldered, sculpted like a war-hardened statue. His jet-black hair was military-perfect. Even standing still, he looked like a coiled force.
But his eyes—piercing green, like shattered emeralds—held her gaze hostage.
She had always been a fan of different-colored eyes. Secretly wished she had some herself. She blinked and shook off the thought.
"I'm Aarohi Sharma. Reporting as per orders under the Cyber Communication Wing Internship Program."
He didn't speak for a long beat. Just stared—as if assessing a problem he hadn't signed up for. And for one second—just one—something flickered in his expression.
She wasn't what he'd expected.
Barely five feet tall, soft red cheeks, beanie over her head, jacket and shawl draped tight. Not thin, not heavy—just... grounded. She looked like someone who'd spend weekends in bed, not someone posted to a military base.
But her posture was straight. Her voice, steady.
"What's your age?" he asked.
"Nineteen, sir."
Veer smirked—just for a second. "You sure? You look like a schoolgirl. Fourteen, fifteen maybe. What are you... five feet?"
She scrunched her face in irritation. Not this again, she thought
She mumbled under her breath, "And you look like a walking tower. What are you—fifty? Or a stone-faced robot?"
What?! Her eyes widened. She had said that aloud.
A loud growl cut through the room. She immediately straightened up. "I—I mean... I'm 19, sir. Here are my documents. And I'm 5'2". Which is a decent height!"
He stared, unreadable. A flicker of amusement mixed with a hint of annoyance—barely there.
"You're not late," he finally said. "Good start."
She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
"This base operates on precision. Discipline. You're here as an observer and assistant—not a hero. Stay in your lane. Follow protocol. Don't speak unless spoken to. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, spine stiff.
"This is a live base. Intelligence, Counter-Insurgency, Cyber Security, Logistics, Tactical Health, Civil Communication—all operate from here. One mistake costs lives."
"You'll be working in the Cyber Division East Wing, under Lieutenant Deepika Gupta, and under my direct supervision. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"One mistake—and you're on the next flight home."
"Understood."
He walked to the window. "Submit this letter to the office. They'll assign your quarters. You begin tomorrow. Until then, stay out of the way."
She nodded, but didn't move.
He turned, raising an eyebrow. What now?
She quickly asked, "Sir, in case I have any doubts, whom should I approach?"
"You can ask me," he replied.
"Okay, sir. I was also told i'll receive a sim here... just wanted to inform my family that I've arrived."
Veer gave a brief nod. "You'll be issued a base sim. Personal phones are submitted on arrival and only returned on Sundays. For now, use the camp telephone if it's urgent."
That was it.
No warmth. No elaboration.
Just a rule, delivered like an order.
Aarohi nodded quickly. "Understood, sir."
And just like that, the meeting was over.
At the office, she submitted her phone, collected her ID, and was guided to her quarters—shared with Army Doctor Intern Dr. Neha Mehra.
Later that evening, after settling in, she used the common telephone to make a brief call to her family—assuring them she had arrived safely and was in good hands.
Then she returned to her room, where jet lag and Kashmir's cold finally pulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Captain Veer Rathore's Office
The moment she left, the air shifted.
Veer stood by the window again. Arms folded. Jaw clenched. Snow falling in measured silence.
Neil walked in without knocking. "So... she's here."
"You told me she was coming," Veer said. "You didn't say she looked like she belonged in a school hallway."
Neil chuckled, dropping into the chair. "She's smart. Cracked the entrance exam for the internship. The girl's a shark behind that baby face."
"She's five feet tall."
"She's not here to wrestle insurgents," Neil said dryly.
Veer finally turned. "She smiles too much."
"Not a crime, Captain. You just forgot what that looks like."
Veer's jaw tightened. "She called me a tower. Said I look fifty. Stone-faced robot."
Neil's eyes widened. "Wait—she said that to your face?"
Veer nodded.
"She's my favorite," Neil grinned. "She called you stone-face and walked out alive. I need to meet her properly."
Veer didn't respond. But he'd noticed it.
That smile.
Too calm. Too confident. Too... unshaken.
Most interns walked in wide-eyed, nervous, overwhelmed.
She walked in like she belonged.
And for a moment... he had almost smiled back.
Almost.
NIGHT
A loud bang jolted Aarohi awake. For a second, she forgot where she was. Then it hit her.
She ran and opened the door—to find Captain Veer Rathore ready to break it down. Behind him stood army men and women. All visibly tense.
His eyes scanned her top to bottom—concern, confusion, then fury.
"What the hell, Ms. Sharma? Why weren't you answering?"
She, still startled, whispered, "I was asleep..."
"Asleep?" His voice thundered. "We've been banging your door for 15 minutes! This isn't your princess bedroom. It's an army base! People here were worried. You wasted their time!"
Tears brimmed in Aarohi's eyes. The raised voice. The humiliation. She had never been scolded like this. Especially not publicly.
She couldn't speak. Her throat closed up.
Neil stepped forward, dispersing the crowd and trying to calm Veer.
Veer just glared and left.
Aarohi wiped her tears quickly. Neil sighed. "You're the cyber intern, right?"
She nodded.
"I'm Lieutenant Neil Sharma," he said with a soft smile.
Aarohi managed a weak one in return. "And you?"
"I already told you," he chuckled. "But listen, he wasn't being cruel. He was worried. The subedar came to call you for dinner—you didn't respond. Everyone panicked."
"I know. I'm sorry. I just didn't hear anything... But he still didn't have to yell like that."
Neil smiled gently. "You're right. But also try to see it from his point of view. You're his responsibility now."
Aarohi sniffled, then asked, "You know him well?"
"He's my best friend," Neil replied.
"Oh," Aarohi muttered. "Then why are you talking to me? He clearly hates me. And the feeling's mutual."
Neil laughed. "I'm doing my best friend duties. Plus, you feel like a little sister already. Sharma bros, remember?"
Aarohi smiled. "Okay, fine. When we're alone, you're Neil bhai."
Neil beamed.
He had always wanted a sister.
MESS HALL
The atmosphere buzzed with quiet discipline, interrupted only by the clinks of metal trays. Aarohi sat at the far end of the mess table, spine straight, eyes lowered. She had apologized—firmly, clearly—to everyone for the misunderstanding that occurred earlier with the door mix-up.
Everyone but Captain Veer.
And when no one was looking, she glared at him. A full, pointed glare meant for one person and one person only.
Of course, he noticed.
Captain Veer Rathore didn't acknowledge it. Didn't blink. But a muscle ticked in his jaw.
Lieutenant Neil, sitting a few seats away, caught the whole exchange and muttered under his breath, just loud enough for himself, "This is going to be... interesting."
That night, she finally met her roommate: Dr. Neha Mehra. Tall, extroverted, beautiful. They clicked instantly.
Neha had been away on a village medical camp earlier. Now, they talked like long-lost best friends before falling asleep.
Aarohi wasn't about to give Veer another reason to yell.
VEER'S QUARTERS – LATE NIGHT
The cold was biting tonight.
Inside his room, Captain Veer Rathore stood by the window again. No lights, no heater—just the soft hum of discipline. Snowflakes clung to the edges of the glass pane, silent observers to the storm brewing in his mind.
He had done his nightly rounds, double-checked the perimeter protocols, and ensured all systems were running smoothly. But none of that could silence the replay in his mind.
That girl.
That intern.
Aarohi Sharma.
She'd arrived like a misplaced feather in a world built on bullets and steel. And yet... she hadn't flinched. Not when she saw him. Not when he laid down the rules. Not even when he'd raised his voice in the corridor during the dinner incident.
She was too calm. Too collected. Too used to smiling.
And then there were those damn words still echoing in his head.
"You look like a tower. Are you 50 or a stone-faced robot?"
Veer exhaled slowly, clenching his jaw. No one spoke to him like that. Not juniors, not officers. Definitely not interns. Yet she had. And he hadn't even reacted.
Instead, he found himself... analyzing her.
Which annoyed him.
He didn't have time to decode people.
A knock sounded.
Neil entered with two mugs of black coffee, tossed one to him. "Here. You look like you're about to stare the snow into submission."
Veer caught it and finally turned. "She called me 50."
Neil grinned wide. "You're stuck on that? I would've framed that moment if I were you."
Veer took a sip and sat down on the edge of his bed. "She slept through a full 15-minute banging on her door. On her first night. In a military base."
Neil leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "She was tired. Jet lag, new place, 0°C weather, anxiety. Don't act like you weren't concerned when she didn't answer."
"I was concerned because protocol was breached," Veer snapped. "Not because she's—"
He stopped.
Neil raised an eyebrow. "Not because she's what?"
Veer didn't answer.
The image of her tear-filled eyes, the way she stood frozen, unable to respond, flashed in his mind. He hadn't missed the way she wiped her cheeks roughly when she thought no one was looking.
That hit something.
Something quiet.
"She's too sensitive for this place," Veer finally muttered. "She'll break in a week."
Neil tilted his head. "She didn't break when you shouted at her. She didn't break when you called her a school kid. In fact, she called you a robot. That's not breaking. That's having guts."
Veer stayed silent.
Neil stepped forward. "She's not your average intern, Veer. She cracked the elite internship exam, she has a specialization in Network Security and IoT, and she's nineteen. She's young, yes. But she's got something."
"A stubborn smile?" Veer muttered under his breath, more irritated than amused.
Neil chuckled. "That too. But also something else. She isn't trying to prove anything. She just... is. Maybe that's what bothers you."
Veer looked up sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Neil finished his coffee. "You live by control. She doesn't give you that. You can't intimidate her. You can't read her. She doesn't try to please you, either. She exists on her terms."
Veer didn't respond for a long moment. Then he looked back out the window.
Neil leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "She feels like... a sister to me."
Veer's brows knit, not in judgment, but curiosity.
"The one I never had," Neil continued, quieter now. "The way she looks around, trying to soak everything in, trying not to mess up. She's got that nervous courage. It's familiar, yaar. I don't know. I feel protective. Like if anyone talks to her wrong, I'll throw them off the roof."
Veer was silent.
"She's not meant for pity. She's meant for space. To grow."
Still, Veer didn't respond.
Neil looked at him carefully. "You don't have to like her. But you don't have to break her either."
Veer stood up, walked to the window, and stared out.
"I'm not here to like or dislike," he said finally. "I'm here to lead. And protect the base. If she wants to be here, she'll have to earn her place."
Neil gave a short nod, not pushing further.
After a few moments, he added gently, "Just don't push her away before she even finds her ground."
Veer said nothing.
He didn't move. He didn't smile.
He just kept looking out at the frozen darkness, green eyes unreadable.
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