Before the imperial could shoot her, he was shot instead. It happened quickly, but much to her relief. She slowed out of her sprint, staring at the body that had been prepared to kill her. That was a close call. She swing her sword to clear it of the blood staining it and took a cloth from her uniform. She was going to wipe the last drops of blood off, when the voice of her 'savior' spoke. She turned to face him, a little bewildered before understanding crossed her face. "Private Regan Durandal. I'm... all that's left of Squad 11." She wiped the blood from her blade, slowly. She was thinking about it. Her eyes seemed far away. "We were ambushed... I... I had to leave my mortar lance behind, to get away. There were... too many."

It was catching up to her. Running for as long as she did, and the confrontation just then, combined with what she thought would be her last moment. She fell to one knee and used her sword to catch herself, panting. "Guh..." She steadied herself for a moment before she pushed herself back to her feet, pulling her sword from the ground and sheathing it, finally. "We shouldn't stop and talk here. There may be more." She looked in the direct she'd come from. Her lance...

The ride was much quieter than she was expecting. Though that should have been expected before they deployed when the only noise the APC made was it's engine running. So she was able to think about other things. Though they were interrupted by the sergeant asking everyone's opinion on the operation at hand. And true to her nature, she bluntly responded with "Unsure" and continued on with her thoughts, but it wasn't much longer till they were interrupted again. This time by gunshots, and someone jumping out.

Brenna didn't waste any time though, jumping out after him. She was a bit behind, but caught up to him after he had fired and was doing a quick interrogation of the survivor in question. She joined him with an aimed weapon, though she didn't bring her weapon up to her shoulder, keeping down by her waist and pointing the barrel in the persons direction. Brenna would let Andrew do any interrogation while she aimed at the person. She did eye the dead imps and the katana, two people with swords in one day, she wondered how desperate everyone was if they were taking people with swords and throwing them into combat.

Lilly/Evan's Post

'What are your views? Any insights or opinions?'

Lilly stayed quiet for the most part when the question was asked. She was scared, of that much she was certain, but what would telling that accomplish? Her unease might well be contagious and spread to the other newcomers of the squad. No... Despite Harald's request for an honest answer, there really was only one proper response she could give. "It sounds difficult... but I think we'll be fine. Now that we have been properly trained, there should be no issues."

Evan, who had just swapped driving shifts with Bons, sat down beside her and voiced his agreement. "Damn straight, Darcsen. The only issue we're gonna have is how to deal with our boredom after we mop up the sorry lot of imps out there." Grinning fiercely, it was obvious that he was looking forward to the fight.

Lilly slid away from Evan, trying to avoid being crushed by a mountain of meat as the mechanic sat down. Her position in the APC had just become much more cramped. Looking thoroughly uncomfortable, she squeezed herself into the corner, trying to keep a little bit of personal space.

*CrackCrackCrack!*

The sound of a sudden burst of gunfire startled Lilly, and set the members of the squad into a flurry of activity. Some readied for combat, others looked around confused, and PFC Hunt and Sykora both scrambled over the sides of the APC and ran off in the direction of the sound. ... What should she do? Hunt and Sykora... they were both people she felt somewhat close to (or at least closer than the rest of the squad), and she had promised Hunt to watch his back. She stood up, about to jump over the side and run after them, when she was suddenly assailed by more doubts. Should she leave the squad? Should she wait for orders? But... Hunt and Sykora might need the extra person... What should she do? Should she stay or should she go?

With Bons at the wheel, Evan stood up and manned the recoilless rifle. Making ready for combat, he quickly surveyed the surrounding area for enemies, before looking back at the rest of the squad. No imps in sight, but the squad was pretty shaken up. Blonde girl beside him seemed especially nervous when Sykora and one of the FNGs took off. She kept standing, crouching, looking around as if confused as to what to do. Chuckling, Evan tossed an offhanded comment her way. "What, He your boyfriend? Ah, go with him. Darcsen'll probably get us all organized in a minute anyways."

Despite the massive blush that Evan's comment brought fourth, his encouragement finally snapped her out of her indecisiveness. Scrambling over the side, she put her running training to good use, catching up to Hunt and Sykora.

When she finally caught up with them, Lilly saw that Hunt had already dealt with the danger and was interrogating what looked like another Gallian soldier. The girl was dressed in standard lancer gear, though she was clearly without her assigned weapon. In it's place, she wielded a foreign looking blade that was still wet with blood. If not for her somewhat panicked state, Lilly would have wanted to ask about the sword since it was unlike anything she had seen before, but that would have to wait. Deciding against adding another rifle to the collection of weapons aimed at the girl, Lilly quickly began scanning the area and looking for more Imperials. Were there anymore out there? What had happened? Why was there a single Gallian soldier here?

Her questions were soon answered by the girl (now revealed to be Private Durandal) when she explained her situation, and when Durandal said that they should leave due to the possibility of more Imperials coming, Lilly couldn't agree more. The faster they got back to the squad, the better. "W-We should bring Ms. Durandal back to the APC. We need to stay with the squad if there are more I-Imperials nearby."

James kept his rifle level with the girl, listening to her explanation. Squad 11...odd that someone else would be ahead of them, but then he wasn't in Squad 11 so he didn't know their orders, and from the sounds of it, if this was true, he should be damn glad he wasn't. Still, he wasn't sure how legitimate this was...Bah, to hell with it, Can't risk getting caught. Lowering his rifle, he beckoned with a jerk of his head to follow him, after Lilly suggested it, and led the quartet of soldiers back to the APC where he addressed the Sergeant.

"Says she's a survivor of an ambush that hit Squad 11, Sarge. Want me to take another Scout and make sure the way is clear?" Already he was remembering his training over the last few years. Scouts were the best choice for, well, scouting, and they stood a better chance at spotting an ambush before it happened than anyone else. Besides, two scouts left plenty of people to keep up watch duty and PFC Hunt could get out of staring at the landscape while blazing through it and actually try to see the enemy. "If there are Imps in the area, we gotta neutralize 'em anyways before we can move on."

Lilly came by shortly after, though Brenna didn't turn her head to acknowledge her presence. Keeping her head and gun trained on the private, and unless the sergeant said otherwise, she wouldn't lower the weapon. Even though Hunt lowered his, she wasn't about to be caught off guard. It was obvious she was now very cautious of lone Gallian soldiers proclaiming they are the last member of another squad.

She followed the private, ready to react to any sudden and out of line moves. And it was plainly seen that Brenna still had her gun and eyes trained on the person is question.


Celeste had completely spaced on everything till now, and felt it was a bad impression of her abilities when she fumbled her lance around as she scrambled to an alert state. The gunshots seemed to have varying effects on the squad, some like Hunt and Sykora had both quickly scrambled off the side to investigate, others like The Mountain had taken up arms and started scanning. Then there was those that were like her, off guard and scrambling to even hold their weapon. But as suddenly as the shots happened, they stopped after what sounded like Hunt getting into the fray. Either he stepping in wrong, or he finished them.

And it seemed like he finished them as not only he came back, but Sykora and Lilly also came back to the APC. But with a fourth person, and Brenna's current attitude told some of the story before Hunt spoke up.

"A survivor?" Celeste looked to the Sergeant. "How do you want to go about this? PFC Sykora doesn't seem all to trustworthy of this person, and Private Hunt wants to take another scout and go scouting ahead." Celeste's attention turned the survivor, she only looked over the girl. Nothing seemed out of place to her, except the missing weapon and the sword. "What's with swords today?" She whispered to herself. "Hey PFC Sykora, lower your weapon would you? If she does pull anything stupid, there are more than enough people here to retaliate." And it seemed to have a small effect as her face didn't look so angry anymore and her finger slid off the trigger. It's something I guess...

The man that had confronted her first relented and signaled her to follow him. She knew how suspicious she must seem under these circumstances, but... she wasn't really in the mindset to think about that. She missed her squad, and she wanted to retrieve her father's Lance.

The man that had 'greeted' her spoke of sending a scouting party. She addresses the man Hunt addressed, assuming him to be the commanding officer, her. "Private Regan Durandal, sir. 11th squad was scouting ahead to make sure your path was clear when we were ambushed. We were... ambushed... if you decide to send a scouting party, I'd like to go with. I left my Lance, a Laancar-SH M01, and I'd like to retrieve it. I'd be dead if I didn't leave it."

As the APC came to a stop, Andrew didn't seem to react in an overly major way. While others jumped over the sides or scrambled to get weapons ready or even just kept a look out for hostiles, he placed his Lance on his shoulder and seemed to relax a little bit as he waited. His logic on the matter was that until someone shouted 'Tank!' or 'Lancer!' all jumping out of the APC would do was make him a target.

When the scouting party returned plus one, PFC Macdonald listened in silence until the matter of what to do with the new girl came up. Her suggestion to go with the scouting team to recover her lance finally caused him to speak. "Sergent, if I may we should disarm and tie this girl up and keep her under watch until we can get in contact with the powers that be and confirm that she is who she claims she is. For all we know she's an imperial spy that will murder our scouts once they are far enough away and lead us into an ambush... at the very least she could report to the Imperial forces that we are in the area."

James listened to the MacDonald, mulling over what he'd said in his head. He'd already considered the possibility of her being an Imp saboteur who would sell them out the first chance she got, but had decided against it for two reasons; the first was that sword, it was foreign enough that he doubted they could get one easily. The second was in all the stories he'd been told about and all the videos he'd watched, the saboteur was packing standard issue Gallian weapons. So rather than risk them tying up one of their own, he spoke up. He did agree with her not going though, last thing a pair of scouts needed was a Lancer playing tag-a-long. "This doesn't feel like an Imperial set up. I mean, for starters that sword is too foreign. No way they'd get that easily and then field it to fool a bunch of Gallians that may or may not be coming. Then there's the fact that if she was a set up and this an ambush, they're waitin' an awfully long time to spring it."

James shrugs and rests his rifle against his shoulder, barrel pointing up. "Not to mention we don't know the other Squads' orders. But, I do agree with not takin' her along. Scouts move faster in pairs. Besides, what Imperial would take a piece of Gallian equipment when they're positive their stuff is better? We can get the lance, we just need the all clear to get going."

Fina kept fidgetting all the way inside the APC, her own weapon rattling muffled by the APC's engine. She had shrivelled to the max, obviously hesitant and wary of the others inside the cramped space. She could start hyperventilating at any given moment, she never liked people this awfully close. And then, two things happened. Sergeant Harald spoke, inquiring about what they thought. Fina felt conflicted. On one way, she couldn't bring herself to break from her shell with so many people, on the other the sergeant was a nice person. At least at face value.

"I-I'll dodododo...my best." was Fina's sudden yet hushed and barely noticeable answer."Looks preprepretty hard. Peopeopeople might die today." She said, clutching her weapon.

And then gunfire shots were heard, following by a small commotion. Fina gripped her weapon tightly, her eyes gazing at the people who had jumped out of the APC without a second thought and then to a certain newcomer. With a rather uncoventional getup as well. And then some of the other people were dismissing her as an imperial spy. While others wanted to get the lance this girl claimed she had lost.

She slapped herself hard, trying to get a grip. "Are we re-really sure? We couldcould re-really use another lance bebecause of the tatanks. But we couldcould lose two scouts, too." Fina added, eyeing the over eager Hunt. "I'm sosorry, but it had to be sa-said."

The Sergeant couldn't help but lean back slightly as MacDonald gave his spiel, caught off guard by the speech. It wasn't as though he disagreed with tub-thumping patriotism per se, but... Harald's main goal was survival for himself and the troops under his command; if he managed to help win the war in the process, then great, but if not... well, there were always openings for skilled hands in the Europan far north, where Darscens were more tolerated. He kept his peace though, not wanting to appear unpatriotic. A few of the others spoke their mind too, perhaps a sign that the training had broken some of the ice in Squad 4. Harald nodded confidently and was about to answer when a shot rang out in the nearby woods; Bons, now driving the APC at a decent clip, threw the brakes on in panic. There was a complicated moment involving the back door swinging open, the Sergeant loosing his footing to spill out onto the dirt road and the butt of a rifle landing in a sensitive spot between his legs. Harald's vision whitened for an instant and by the time he dragged himself upright, Hunt and Sykora had vanished. 'Fuck, shit, cunt...' He swore vehemently under his breathe but pulled himself together in time to get some orders yelled. 'Everybody out! Secure the perimetre, move it!' As the squad milled about in confusion, the two errant soldiers returned... with a prisoner?

Maybe it was the sudden stop or maybe the aching pain in his two veg, but Harald was mightily pissed off when Hunt reported in. 'Very fucking well Private, but the next time you run off on your own, I'll fucking 'ave y-'. He caught himself, a little late. '... There will be consequences. It could have been a trap for Valk's sake, you could have run into a firing squad. Or worse, gotten captured and then the squad, the Regiment, the whole damn operation would be compromised!' Harald again caught himself, realising how pointlessly angry he was getting. 'Just... just don't do it again. Wait for backup and orders next time, both of you.' He gave Sykora a meaningful glare to reinforce the point. 'Now then... Squad 11, right?' He looked the girl up and down, eyes lingering on the sword at her hip. Why did everyone seem seem to have a damn sword nowadays? He had worked hard to ignore the elephant in the room, but Kyo's sword (if it could even be called that; the damn thing was a piece of sharpened sheet metal) had already been an unneeded complication in the squad's line up. He felt a glimmer of pity for Squad 11's former commander, wondering if they too had felt his pain. Regardless, there were more important issues at hand. 'In summary, we lost a squad to ambush in these woods?' He nodded back to where they had came, his brow furrowing. 'Private Durandal, yes? Did you have a chance to collect dogtags? Any details on the forces that attacked you? Can you remember where?' His blood was still up from the anger, but a certain coldly professional part of him reminded Harald of his obligations. Their mission was to secure a route to Vasel and a route with Imperial patrols setting up ambushes was by no means secure. He turned to the others as Durandal got her story straight and growled, 'Get kitted up, weapons and ammunition only. Lancers and drivers will secure the APC; the rest of us have a patrol to kill.'

Their skepticism regarding her was understandable, but the one that wanted to tie her up was rather... frightening. As if she hadn't already been through enough with the destruction of her squad, now he wanted to tie her up and treat her like a P.O.W? She held her tongue, however. Now wasn't the time to get into an argument.

Regan stood a little straighter as the commanding officer spoke to her. "Yes sir, Private Durandal. I... wasn't able to obtain any dogtags, sir. The force that attacked us was infantry only, I saw no armor. They hid behind a ridge and they must have had spotters somewhere, because they opened with a number of grenades, lobbed over from their hidden position. In the confusion, they rushed us. I tried to retaliate, but it happened too fast, my squad was wiped out and I had no choice. I-..." Her voice caught in her throat and she took a shakey breath. "I need to... sit down..." Her posture falters and she salutes Harold before she dismisses herself. She moves to the back of the APC and has herself a seat in the open back.

James did what he did when Captain Riserre started yelling at him when the Sergeant started; he tuned it out. Some back in his old unit would argue that's why he was always getting in trouble, but the truth of the matter was the Cap just couldn't take a joke. When it was said and done, with the order being given to kit up, James looked at the Sergeant again. "Hey Sarge, thought you'd like to know that she," he jerked his thumb towards Durandal, "downed two imps with her sword and I gunned down the third when I found her. So they're already down three people. That said, how big do you think the patrol is?"

For all his smart ass remarks, he also knew what questions to ask and when to ask them. Plus the fact of the matter was even the regular army had varying patrol sizes on record, so he thought he'd get a second opinion before making his own guess.

Andrew's brow narrowed a little as he heard James talk. While a lot of what he was saying seemed to be based on a twisted logic that didn't really make any lick of sense, his point about the sword did seem to have a grain of logic and truth to it; While an Imperial infiltrator that was trying to get in with an Imp weapon was either to stupidly patriotically arrogant to live or scarily competent due to noticing how rag tag the Militia's weapon lay out was, your average infiltrator that didn't have a death wish would have been wielding a Gallian weapon in order to avoid awkward questions. The use of such a strange sword either meant the girl was legit or so terrifyingly good at her job that he could only hope that the Empire wouldn't waste her talents infiltrating the Militia.

Maybe he was just being paranoid... or maybe he just wasn't paranoid enough. Hard to tell the difference these days.

Offering the Sergeant a silent salute, PFC Macdonald made sure his lancer was loaded once more before moving to sit next to the APC door, able to see out just fine but not expose himself to sniper fire or anything of the sort.

Evan's Post

Evan whistled in response to grilling the sergeant had given Hunt. Whew, the Darcsen was really pissed this time, and he was glad that it wasn't at him for once. As lancers took up defensive positions and the rest of the squad began to organize, he surveyed the surroundings through the sights of the mounted rifle. ... Nothing, Nothing, Nothing,... All clear. Relaxing a bit now that he was certain they weren't in imminent danger, Evan banged on the ceiling of the APC's driver compartment and yelled down at it's occupant. "Hey, private! Little easier on the brakes next time, ya hear? Nearly fuckin' scrambled everyone in the back of the APC."

Chuckling to himself, Evan leaned against the side of the APC and stretched while he waited for the Sergeant and squad to do their thing. Now he just had to avoid succumbing to boredom during the most uneventful part of a vehicle crew's day: watch duty.

Lilly's Post

Lilly had scrambled back to the APC a bit behind the rest of the group, so she arrived a few seconds later (coincidentally just as the Sergeant had begun to tear into Hunt). Now that the initial fright was over, she was a bit more calm and collected. When Sergeant Harald began questioning their new arrival, Lilly listened in, curious. Hearing of how Private Durandal's entire squad had been decimated, she couldn't help but wince in sympathy. Poor girl, she had probably just lost most of her friends, and the greeting they had given her had been less than friendly...

While the Sergeant was conversing with the rest of the squad, Lilly climbed back into the APC and took a seat across from Durandal. Unclipping her canteen from her belt, Lilly offered it to her with a smile, trying to look friendly. "Here, miss. You look thirsty." Poor girl looked absolutely drained. Having to out run scouts while in lancer armour could not have been an easy task, and since she had already abandoned her lance, Lilly wondered if she had dropped (or emptied) her canteen as well.

When the Sergeant called out to the rest of the squad, saying 'Get kitted up, weapons and ammunition only. Lancers and drivers will secure the APC; the rest of us have a patrol to kill.', Lilly nodded and dropped the leg pouch containing her maps on her seat. Turning back to Durandal, Lilly smiled and said "Do not worry, Miss Durandal. You're safe with us now." With that, she hopped out of the APC and joined up with the rest of the scouts. She had only had a few minutes, but she hoped her words had helped their newest member to feel a bit more welcome into the squad and a bit less sad over the loss of her previous compatriots. Now she just had to worry about surviving the fight yet to come.

His anger somewhat lessened, Harald's tone was nevertheless irritable as he replied to Hunt's question. 'Fucked if I know. Imp patrols are normally squad strength and Imp squads are smaller than ours; eight maybe?' With the casualties reported, that left five unaccounted for, assuming the Imperials were playing by the same rules as usual. Never a safe assumption to make. The Sergeant double-checked his weapon as the others formed up behind him before signalling for Hunt and Sykora to lead the way.



Still sitting in the driver's seat of the APC, Alonso's face was buried in his hands as it burned in shame. There was no pussyfooting around it, he had flat out panicked upon hearing those shots and had tried to throw the vehicle into top gear to escape. Once again the Imperial gearbox had foiled a Gallian driver and he had accidentally thrown the damn thing into reverse... He hadn't even meant to brake after the engine stalled, but somehow his foot had found the break pedal at just the right instant. Shame prevented him from passing it off as intentional. Alonso cringed as Carn yelled down at him, sinking further into the seat as if trying to disappear. 'S-sorry... I thought, I...' He didn't bother to finish the sentence, instead pulling himself from the driver's cabin with difficulty and reclaiming his rifle from the back of the vehicle. As the rest of the squad took off into the woods, he inched over toward the girl they others had picked up. 'Hey... You uh, you ok?' She looked shattered, whether from the fighting or from shock he couldn't tell. She didn't look like an infiltrator, or an Imp like some of the others seemed to have suggested... In a rare moment of compassion, Alonso cast a blanket over Durandal's shoulders as he remembered what it had been like to dodge snipers and tanks during the escape from Rinneheim after his first squad had been wiped out. The Valks only knew what had happened in those woods, but the results were clear enough. 'There's water behind you... in the glass bottles there.' He didn't try to converse much more, except to offer a ration bar just as the shooting began in the woods. It went on for some time, the crack of rifles giving way to short bursts of SMG fire. A muffled crump signalled the detonation of a grenade somewhere and suddenly, the woods were silent. Alonso watched the trees nervously, gripping his rifle like a vice, ready to fire upon the slightest movement. It was a strange miracle that he hadn't flicked the safety on his ZM-Kar, or else Fina would have had an extra air hole in her head as the squad re-emerged from the woods...



Finally out of the danger area and with a fair certainty that the enemy had been defeated, Harald allowed his shoulders to slump in relief. He sat down heavily on the rear ramp of the APC and sparked up a cigarette as the adrenaline slowly emptied from his system. They had been lucky for once; the Imperial patrol had been digging a grave for one of their own when Squad Four had stumbled upon them, their weapons safely stowed. Even caught flat-footed the Imperials had fought like lions, diving into cover before the Gallians could shoot them all. Eventually numbers had prevailed, as the shocktroopers did their thing and flanked them. Harald wasn't entirely sure who had done what if he was honest; fighting in woodlands was almost as difficult for commanders as in urban terrain, as trees and fallen logs prevented them from spotting their own subordinates, let alone the enemy. Nevertheless the squad had acquitted themselves well in what, he realised, was their first real taste of combat since Rinneheim. It had all happened so quickly that it hadn't occurred to him to be scared until afterwards, but now that Harald had a chance to think about it... The significance of the event would not be lost on the others, he hoped. Squad 4 had met the enemy on the field of battle and defeated him soundly. The first victory of many perhaps.

He pulled himself up with a weary sigh. Hunt had picked up the stray lance while they were picking over the remains of the ambushed Gallian squad and Harald had been busying himself with collecting dogtags from each corpse, along with a handful of unsent personal correspondences. He would give them to her, he decided. As the sole surviving member of Squad 11, Durandal had both the right and responsibility to carry them back to Fort Breda. The Sergeant flicked away the dead cigarette butt and climbed aboard the APC. 'Mount up kids, time to move on.' It pained him to leave the bodies of his countrymen but they simply couldn't afford to spend the day digging proper grave, not with the rest of the regiment counting on them. He sat opposite Durandal and gave her a grimly sympathetic nod. 'I'm sorry Private, but for the time being I'm adding you to my squad. When things calm down, well... maybe Company Command will work something out. In the meantime... Welcome to Squad 4.' He reached into his breast pocket, producing a pair of letters, a bloodstained diary and a dozen steel dogtags. 'I am truly sorry for what happened to your squad, Private, but you know that there's little we can do for them now. Hold on to these, for their sake.' The engine roared once more and within seconds the squad was once again rolling down the dirt track, heading for Le Haye Sainte.

James was still holding a small piece of gauze from his first aid kit to his cheek where a bullet had skimmed his face when someone offered to take his place keeping watch on the right flank. He shook his head and told them to go rest as he kept watching. Of course, the Imp responsible had still been killed, James had put a bullet between the guy's eyes himself and then put two more in the guy's chest after bullets had stopped flying. Still, his cheek stung every time he smiled and he hated it. But he supposed he got off lucky, all things considered. The bullet could have found it's way into his skull instead of skimming his cheek.

It had been another two hours on the road, with James refusing to rotate out of his position on watch, before the sergeant called for them to pull over and disembark from the APC and hide it. James and a couple of other Scouts were tasked with moving up and scoping out the village before they moved on it and when they reached the edge of the forest, PFC Hunt let loose a quiet string of curses that would make a sailor proud. Before the three scouts lay wide open farmland with little to offer in the way of cover except for the occasional abandoned tractor or farm house and those weren't going to offer great cover for long. Turning back towards the APC, James waits for the rest of the squad to catch up and find out what the plan was.

Another private approached her, having herself a seat across from her and offering her water. Without much thought, Regan accepted the offer. She refrained from drinking as much as she wanted. She couldn't impose overmuch, it would be inconsiderate and possibly fuel for some of the more paranoid in the squad. "Thank you." She offered a weak smile to the other young woman as she left the APC. It quickly faded as her eyes were drawn to Private Brenna. She was being watched by this one. What terrifying hostility.

She tensed as she felt the blanket draped around her shoulders, turning sharply to be met with a friendly presence. She relaxed as she realized this man wanted to be kind, leaning back in her seat and drawing the blanket around her shoulders tighter. When he drew her attention to the water bottles, she was a little surprised she hadn't noticed them earlier. Fatigue wore at her... "Thank you. I abandoned my water, as well..." She plucked out a bottle and drank her fill. Running in her armor had been arduous, and having to keep such a fast pace had been doubly straining. She was thirsty. Though she took the ration bar, she took a moment of gazing at it to decide if she felt like eating. She was hungry, but...

~~~

The squad leader approached her. It had been her assumption that she would be folded into the squad, at least for the time being. She wasn't injured, and she could still fight. "Yes sir." She didn't quite feel like mustering anything more enthusiastic.

When he produced the dog tags, letters, and journal, her eyes fixed on them. She accepted the items, tucking the dogtags away within her armor and laying the letters and diary in her lap. She'd have to read them later...

As the APC continued to roll on, she realized something. "Uh, sir? Where are we going?"

Lilly's Post

Lilly sighed quietly as she slumped back against the wall of the APC. The skirmish with the imperial squad went far better for her than she expected. No hysterical freak outs occurred, she didn't run away in terror, and her shakey aim (due to nervousness) aside, Lilly's performance was reasonably competent this time. ... But the relief and satisfaction she should have felt at (temporarily) conquering her fears had been overshadowed by a melancholy that was weighing on her. When they had set upon the imperial soldiers, they were in the middle of digging a grave for one of their comrades. She had just attacked them while they were in the middle of saying farewell to their dead... Watching the sergeant walk around and retrieve the tags from the bodies of Private Durandal's squad only helped to intensify this depression as she contemplated death and mortality.

They had been the victors of this skirmish, but that might not always be the case... What would happen if the imperials ambushed them next time? What if they ran afoul of a tank? Their lives could be taken just as easily as the imperials they had killed. Somewhere deep in the pit of Lilly's stomach, she felt that not everyone in her squad would make it home alive.

'What are you doing, Lilly? Get a hold of yourself.' Lilly shook her head and and mentally berated herself as she tried to purge the unpleasant thoughts. No, she couldn't dwell on this. What would her father or servants think of her if she remained in this state? 'It might not be a pleasant fate, but you chose to be here. Now it is your responsibility to carry through with your duties. If you cannot, then you must change to become someone who can. That is your duty as a soldier and a Jatmoore.'

She smiled slightly at this thought. Yes... Yes that sounded exactly like something her father would have said. But what could she do to become someone who was more able to handle the fear and sadness of war? ... That, she did not know. For now she would have to fight her way through it and try to help any of the other squad members that were suffering from it as well. Lilly looked over at Private Durandal, frowning in sympathy as she did. Poor girl still looked distraught from the loss of her squad, and rightfully so. She hoped she would be able to come to terms with the loss and continue on in time. Fortunately, most of the squad seemed to be acting friendly towards her, so that should help. Lilly made a mental note to talk with her after the battle was over, anyways.

***

"Alright Ladies and Gentlemen! Here's your stop!"

A few hours down the road, Lilly was shaken out of her daydreams by a certain muscular driver shouting back to them. The Sergeant had ordered the APC to pull over and once it came to a stop, ordered several scouts to well... scout the route ahead. Lilly had been one of the group selected, so she quickly hopped out the back and sprinted after Private Hunt.

Lilly had always prided herself on her running ability but Hunt almost had her beat. The combination of his head start and her nearly tripping over a bramble bush meant that he got to the edge of the woods a dozen seconds ahead of her. A steady stream of curses guided her final approach as she ran up to Hunt and crouched to observe the field ahead of them. His curses matched her sentiment towards the field that stretched out ahead of them, albeit in a much coarser fashion than she would have put it. "There is not a lot of cover out there, Mr. Hunt. I brought smoke grenades with me, but they would not help in a field this large." With that, Lilly leaned against a tree and waited for the remaining scouts to arrive.

Evan's Post

"ALL ABOOOAAAARD!" Grinning as he shouted, Evan eased the APC back onto the road and towards their objective. He had taken over Bons' roll as driver for the remainder of the trip, partially due to how the kid had panicked upon hearing the gunshots. Kid still looked distraught about it, his face was flushed red from embarrassment and he had completely withdrawn when Evan berated him for his mistake. Reaching behind him and poking Bons when they hit a relatively straight section of road, Evan whispered in as quiet a voice as a boisterous person like him could muster. "'ey don't worry about it, kid. You'll get the hang of this bucket of bolts eventually. Just don't fuck up like that in combat, eh?" Evan laughed to himself as he tried to lift Bons' spirits, but his intended effect was probably reversed by his blunt way of speaking.

***

"Pull over up here, Carn." "Right on, Darcsen."

After a couple hours of driving, the Darcsen called for him to pull over and let some scouts out so they could get an idea of what lay ahead. Parking the APC in as hidden a location as he could, Evan yelled back to the rest of the squad. "Alright Ladies and Gentlemen! Here's your stop!"

'Village of La Haye Sainte. Nothing spectacular there, just a few shops, a crossroads... and a few Imp squads guarding the route to Vasel.' The Sergeant grimaced. 'Our orders are to clear a path to Vasel ahead of a major offensive; I assumed that Squad 9 was doing the same?' Come to think of it, he hadn't heard anything in the brief about the other squad's objectives. Operational security perhaps, in case someone got captured? Or was the old coot just going senile.



The Captain sneezed suddenly. 'Are you alright sir?', asked a worried looking aid. 'Yes, yes... I just have the feeling that someone, somewhere is mocking me...' He glared northward, irritated for some reason, before turning back to his paperwork.



'Pull up over here, Carn.' Finally the APC trundled to a stop at the edge of the woods and the squad fanned out to secure the area. 'Fina, Jatmoore and, say... Hunt. Go scout out the route into town; keep an eye out for potential MG nests and a good avenue to approach. Good luck and try to avoid being seen.' As the scouts left to carry out their orders, Harald began to unload his kit and provisions from the APC. 'We may be here a while guys, so settle down. Bons and Kyo, watch the perimeter. Everyone else, get something to eat.' Harald sat down heavily against a tree and opened up his first steak sandwich as he began thinking about how best to deploy his men. With a few new additions, their teamwork might be lacking, so pairing them up would probably be a good idea.



Despite Evan's coarseness, Alonso found himself feeling slightly better. He didn't answer though, still unsure of how to deal with... Hell, any of his squad mates. The Corp was nice, if a bit distant, and some of the girls had been kind enough. He still had his doubts about Glaive, but as time wore on and he thought about it logically, the reasoning behind his spy theory seemed more and more flimsy. Maybe she was just a bitch? He shook his head violently to clear away the thought; whatever she was, Glaive was a soldier like himself. She deserved his respect. Probably. He bundled out of the APC along with the rest of the squad, nodded glumly at his orders and set himself up some distance away from the others where he had a good view of the surrounding forest. Alonso didn't hate being on stag duty. It was a chance to centre himself, be away from the others and perhaps relax a bit. After all, the chances of the Imps actually finding them were stupidly low, right?

Fina checked her remaining bullets with her teeth gritted, trying to get a hold of herself. "Aaaahh" She weakly lamented after noticing the blood stains on her shawl... which weren't hers. Close combat quarters was always messy, and by the time she had registered what had truly trascended in the skirmish, it had been over. Her body had moved on her own, like last time when she was in danger. She felt odd. She didn't want to garner attention to hers, but... fighting seemed natural to her. Despite the fact she couldn't even raise her voice to one of her comrades.

Fina yelped so slightly when the Sergeant addressed her once more "Yesyesyes-sir!" She stuttered after flailing with her rifle, startled by the situation, before quickly readjusting in a much steadier pose and grip. She hunched her stance, and breathed quietly and steadily, while she took nimble but measured steps. Sneaky sneak. I am nobody. Do not bother with me. She thought to herself as she put in practice her unsconspicious habit of hers. She looked at the entrance thoughtfully, thinking to herself. Where will all eyes be drawn at? Probably at areas that can be crossed easily She mused to herself as she started to sidestep off the main road, into the assembled buildings. Where does someone put machineguns? Where they can control wide angles. She thought to herself as she purposefully avoided being in line of sight of large windows, specially those who weren't tightly closed. She then eyed up a tree near the entrance.

Up we go... sneaky like a mouse who doesn't want to wake up the cat. Fina said to herself as she put her rifle away and climbed up deftly, nestling herself atop the foliage to catch a peek at the town from some height without being seen.