[IC] Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

[Raven_Operative]

Lilly's Post

Lilly bowed as the new recruits joined with the squad, welcoming them with a gesture. It was good to have more friends to fight with. Some of the men who joined were even quite handsome. Looking over the squad, she noted that she wasn't the only one who had noticed this fact. Corporal Stichler was fidgeting like a school girl, no doubt impressed by someones looks. Lilly allowed herself a small smile at this, thinking it wonderful to have the freedom to fall in love or court someone. Unfortunately, her pool of potential candidates was quite small. Being of a high class family, her father would not even consider allowing her in a relationship with someone who was not of similar financial standing. Of course, she was at war and far away from her fathers judgment, but she did not want to defy him any more than necessary.

When it was her turn to introduce herself, Lilly stepped forward and spoke up in a soft voice. "I am Lilly Jatmoore. I am one of the scouts for this squadron. It is nice to meet you all."

Fina's less than graceful arrival elicited an amused look from Lilly. The poor girl... she really did seem to be trying her best, it wasn't her fault that the Darcsen race was less adept at things that didn't involve mines or machinery. Lilly smiled in pity as the girl introduced herself, before running off after the sergeant once they were dismissed. Oh well... She should really start getting ready for tomorrow.

Having chosen to pack her battle gear first before heading to supply, most of the squad had already finished by the time she got there. Handing the supply officer her acquisition papers, she started to work her way down the aisles, picking out the food and gear she would take with her. As she suspected, she was the last person to gather their rations from here. The armoury was another story, though. While gathering the bullets and grenades she would need for the upcoming fight, she encountered one of the new arrivals: PFC Hunt. Greeting him with a wave as she picked out her bullets, she tried to strike up a conversation. "Good afternoon, PFC Hunt. How are your preparations going?"

Evan's Post

"Aaaand... Done!" Once he finished tightening the last bolt on the wire armour, Evan and the rest of the mechanics took a step back to admire their handiwork. The APC now had a cage of wire surrounding it to protect it from lances (Though not a tank shell), and the machine gun on the top had been replaced with one of the larger Gallian recoilless rifles. On the inside, the driver and passenger optics had been replaced with the low-light vision system, and the engine had been thoroughly muffled. They had even jammed some rags in between the wire mesh and it's fastenings to prevent it from rattling as much. Evan smiled, greatly pleased with the results of their labour, before turning to the mechanics who had assisted him. "Excellent work, lads, job well done! ... Well, that's all I need you for, so I guess you guys are free to go."

Walking out of the garage, he noted that the sun was setting and it was almost time for bed. No doubt the rest of the squad was currently in the barracks either resting or finalizing some preparations, but there was one person he had to see. With that, he hustled over to the sergeant's room in the bunk house.

It was late when he arrived, and most likely everyone who had questions for Harald had already been answered. Completely ignoring any semblance of military form and procedure, Evan charged straight on into the room, throwing the door open with a loud bang. "DARCSEN!!" He placed his hands on his knees and wheezed for a moment to catch his breath (a sprinter, Evan was not), before looking up at his irritated superior with a massive grin on his face. "Wanna check out the APC?"

Lukas' Post

"Gunner, target light tank, 45 degrees left. Side armour, below the top tracks."

Lukas rotated the turret, sighting the target and running through a few mental calculations before screaming "ON THE WAAAAY!!!" *BOOOM!! K-thunk! Clank!* The massive cannon recoiled and ejected its shell casing, as the Gallian tank Lukas had been aiming at detonated explosively. Made sense. A gun this powerful would likely destroy anything the Gallians could field. Turning around, Lukas hurriedly set another shell into the prototype auto-loader (the reason why he didn't need a partner to operate this gun), before throwing the lever and watching the piston slam the shell home. 22 seconds... He had to get faster at that.

"Gunner, light tank, 20 degrees right!"

Hearing another command called out, Lukas pressed the lever that rotated the turret and grabbed the coaxial machine gun as it did. After letting out a sweeping burst of fire at the trenches, he jumped back, stopped the turret rotation and began aiming again at the next tank. Multitasking was something he was very good at, the adrenalin brought on by the thought of striking against his enemies made him even faster. "Hehehe... DIE FOR ME!!" *BOOOM!! K-thunk! Clank!* Another Gallian tank destroyed, another shell kicked into place by the auto loader, another target to acquire. Below him, he heard the driver praising the tank's impressive firepower, and over the radio he heard the voices of the grenadiers singing. The atmosphere was perfect for what he was doing. Grinning savagely, he aimed at another target; this time a bunker.

*CLANKCLANKCLANK!* As he aimed, his view port was temporarily obscured by sparks and smoke as a volley of three lances impacted on the tank. *CLANK!* A tank shell rebounded off the turret, but after looking around quickly, Lukas saw that there had been absolutely no damage to the interior. "ahahaha... AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!! YOU'LL NEVER GET THROUGH THIS ARMOUR, GALLIAN DOGS!! DIIIIEEEEE!!! *BOOOM!! K-thunk! Clank!* The bunker exploded, and he began spraying the trenches with machine gun fire again as the auto-loader did its work. "DIE! DIE YOU FILTHY WORMS!! YOU'LL NEVER STOP US!! WE REPRESENT THE STRENGTH OF THE EMPIRE ITSELF!! UNSHAKABLE!!! INVINCIBLEEEE!!!" Lukas' maniacle laughter and curses echoed through the remainder of the fight, as the Siegfried carved a bloody path through the Gallian lines. With a tank like this, victory is ours.

[Lennon79]

Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

Growing up as a ward of what passed for Darktown's authorities, Harald had gotten used to the tasteless grey gruel that passed for communal meals. As soon as he had the means though, he began to explore more palatable options, with beef in red wine soon becoming a favourite. His personal quarters were only NCO quality, but that hadn't stopped him from setting up a makeshift oven in one corner. As the rest of the squad set about collecting ratpacks and loaves of bread from the stores, Harald instead took the time to prepare for himself some premium meals. With all the cutting and seasoning complete, he sat by the open window, smoking leisurely as he kept an eye on the stewing steaks. Eventually the calm silence was broken by a soft knock and a less than elegant entry of a small figure. The Sergeant stared blankly as she stuttered, marvelling at how Fina had managed to fall through a half open door. 'Uh... no need to apologise Private, just... take a seat.', he replied slowly, indicating a chair by his work desk. 'I'll be with you momentarily.' With a few swift movements, Harald finished and threw the cigarette, gave the pot an industrious stir and lowered the heat to simmer. After pouring two cups of strong tea, he sat down behind his desk and passed one drink over. 'I'll be honest, I wasn't informed of your transfer. We've had a lot of people coming and going since we arrived here... No injuries of course.' Not yet, he thought darkly. He paused for a long moment, looking the younger soldier up and down. She didn't strike him as particularly capable... But then again, neither did Jatmoore or even Stichler if he was honest... He tried to convince himself that he just didn't want to see any cute young women come to harm, but even that seemed a bit condescending. 'You missed the briefing so I guess the first order of business is to get you up to speed.' Digging through the paperwork on his desk, Harald eventually produced and handed over a set of maps. 'Vasel. Ever heard of it? Major transport hub. Militia's hitting it next week.' He went over the briefing as the Captain had before, adding in a few extras of his own. It was pretty handy to be able to lay it out like this; if nothing else, it allowed Harald the chance to triple check the plan and recheck the maps. '... and that's the long and short of it. First stop is La Haye Sainte and from there I'll pick a second target. Any questions?'

Unfortunately, she didn't have much time to answer. A minute after he finished outlining the operation, a polite knock heralded Harald's second visitor of the night. 'By all means, Corporal. Come in, have a cup of char.' Returning Stichler's salute with a half-hearted one of his own, Harald made his way back to the oven to stir the bubbling pot. 'Rare for me to have so many young ladies calling on me of an evening... not that I'm complaining.' His tone was relaxed and perhaps a bit playful. Ideally, he would like the entire squad to sit down and have a few drinks together before going out into he field again, if only to get to know one another. Hell, about the most personal thing he knew about any of his troops was that Sykora liked drawing. Or possibly writing, he hadn't had too close a look. He listened thoughtfully as the Corporal gave her apologies, stewing a new pot of tea. 'Stichler, it is your job as my second to keep order among the squad as I formulate plans and give orders. You did get a bit hot-headed out there today, but nevertheless you did your job as a corporal. Here. Mind your hand, it's hot.' After passing a fresh cup of tea to both girls, he sat back by the open window and began rolling another cigarette. 'Alright then; what did you want to discuss?'

---

A few hours later, Harald was once again alone in his quarters. The beef had been cooked, dried and wrapped in linen, the vegetables were packed in sacks and he had made sure to fill a hip flask with the finest Imperial port he could find. Pretty bourgeois for a lowly Sergeant, but Harald was nothing if not resourceful. With all the work done, he sat down at his desk to eat a late dinner and finish the reports from today's training battle. Of course about halfway through his beef sandwich, the door slammed open. Massaging the shock from his chest, Harald glared daggers at the engineer. 'Fucking hell Carn, I nearly shit myself...' He knew he ought to do something about Carn's insubordinate attitude too, but something told him it would be pointless. Still, work came first... 'Sure sure... I trust you've done a good job, but I might as well take a look.' Stuffing the remaining sandwich in his mouth, Harald led the way out toward the garages.

Lieutenant Beirmann, Imperial Army

Walking slowly amongst the ruins of the Gallian defences, Marcus came across a wounded man fighting for breath. A lot of truths had changed in the Gallian's world this last hour, as dozens and then hundreds of his compatriots had fallen to an enemy that had no hope of defeating. Tanks had been torn in two, bunkers cracked like eggs and for all the lances and anti-tank guns has fired, not a single Imperial tank had fallen. Marcus found it all rather amusing, although he acknowledged that was the sneering imperialist in him talking. The wounded man didn't look particularly frightened of him, frightened of anything in fact. Instead he merely sat there in shock as his blood drained away, perhaps realising the implications of today's battle. If the Empire could take a heavily defended ridge with such ease, then...? Marcus didn't allow him to finish the thought, putting the Gallian out of his misery with a single shot to the head. A mercy, at least as far as the Lieutenant saw it. He made his way back to 655's camp.

'Ma'am. Siegfried performed beyond expectations; no lance nor shell could penetrate her and no foe could withstand the 120mm.' As field tests went, today was a resounding success. If he was in charge the entire Empire would begin mass-producing Siegfrieds tomorrow. Alas, such decisions were an order of magnitude above his pay grade and so Marcus instead settled down with the Major in her tent. He had brought along his crew too, to ensure that Mooringstar received every bit of feedback possible. 'Gentlemen, sit. Give the Major your opinions on Siegfried's systems.' And suggestions for improvement, he added mentally, although he knew that Sigismund at least would need little encouragement. Marcus kept his own opinions to himself, well aware that his role as commander was to coordinate the talents of his crew. About the only extra thing he wished the tank featured were leather seats...

[Zarkun]

PFC James Hunt|Armory

James had been one of the first into the supply area, grabbing the things he knew he liked, but also that he could use as bargaining chips later to make trades for potentially better grabs he had missed in his rush to pack. After that, he spent a bit organizing it to make sure he could find everything, so he was somewhat late to the armory to find the rest of his stuff. Ah well, no harm in being late to the armory. Getting some ammo, he's lost in his own world going through grenades when Lilly spoke to him and scared him.

"Gah! Oh, Lilly, Hi. Yeah, it's going fine. You?"

[Raven_Operative]

Lilly/James' Post

"I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you." Lilly apologized as she began scanning the rows of bullets and magazines, looking for the proper caliber. "It goes the same with me. ... But it is difficult to decide what to bring when you travel as light as we scouts do." Picking up two different grenades to demonstrate her point, she queried "Should I take smoke or explosive grenades? It is difficult to anticipate what would be most needed."

James chuckles and holds up the frag grenades he'd chosen. "Smokes are good for cover and obscuring the vision on a tank, but frags are better for building clearing and generally helping us get away." He puts them on his belt and then peruses the ammo for the right caliber himself. "I almost always carry more ammo than grenades. I mean, if we do our job right, we don't end up close enough for the grenades to be needed. Right?" Spotting his ammo, he grabs some and puts it in the appropriate pouches. "So, what's it like in the militia?"

Lilly smiled as they spoke, nodding in agreement with what he had said. "Yes, I suppose it is true. My throwing skill is lacking, so it would probably be better for me to carry more bullets." Despite saying that, though, she still did grab a pair of smoke grenades. That was all that her small pouch would hold, and it would help her get out of a situation like what had 'killed' her on the training field.

James' question about life in the militia caught her off guard. Surely it couldn't be much different than life in the army? "Oh, well I only joined at the start of the war. I really do not know much about it, but it seems..." Violent. Violent and frightening were the words Lilly thought of as her memories of Rinneheim came back. Her face darkened as she thought this, though she quickly burried that feeling and resumed her usual calm appearance. "... I am unsure how to describe it. It is certainly different from what I am used to." Smiling as she reached for a few rifle magazines, she reversed the question. "What of you? You said you were from the army. What was life like there?"

James wasn't surprised that Lilly thought the militia life was different from how she'd lived before. To be fair, it was meant to be, and he was starting to see why his buddies back in the regular army gave the militia so much crap. Of course, so far he LIKED most of his squad mates, unlike those who made up Cougar Squad back with his old unit. Her question about life in the army illicited a chuckle from the PFC.

"Well, it's orderly, precise and, well, uneventful in times of peace. It's also very predictable. Up at 0500, PT for an hour, two if your sergeant's in a particularly nasty mood, breakfast, you do your assignment for the day, lunch, back to assignments, dinner, and then lights out by 2300 hours." With a sigh, James grabbed another clip and slid it into another ammo pouch. "Still, I wouldn't give it up for anything else. When I graduated school, I enlisted, just because I couldn't stand the thought of being looked down on by the regular army. Then, once I got in, I found it was actually kinda fun." Stopping suddenly, James chuckles nervously and blushes a little, though he was sure Lilly couldn't see it. "Sorry, started rambling on you. What did you do before the war?"

Lilly waved her hand, dismissing his apology. She had missed his blush as she was bent over while inventorying her pack. "Please, it matters not. Truth be told, I like hearing about things like this from others." Standing up again and straightening her hair, Lilly paused when she was asked about herself, a complex look crossing her face. "That is... Also difficult to describe. I did not have a job per-say... I am the daughter of David Jatmoore. Perhaps you have heard of him. My father owns one of the largest strings of arms factories in Gallia, so the majority of my life has been devoted to learning how to manage the Jatmoore Arms company for when he passes it to me." As she spoke, Lilly closed her pack and hoisted it onto her back. She was clearly finished here, but made no motion to leave. It was nice to take a break and have someone to talk to after all the hectic training she'd been through.

"Before I joined the militia, my life was mostly classes, some tutored sports and the occasional hunting trip. It was not anything exciting enough to make for a good conversation." She smiled brightly as she recalled one last bit of information. A piece that she was particularly proud of. "But, since we specialized in producing rifles, I know exactly how most of them work! I could probably maintain a rifle just as well as some of the engineers, if not for the disgusting grease and filth." Lilly shuddered at the thought.

James couldn't help but laugh a little as he put the last magazine in his last ammo pouch on his chest. "Well, hate to be the bearer of bad news, Lilly, but grease and grime are the least of your worries now." He hefted up his own pack and settled it on his shoulders before facing Lilly with a smile on his face. So far, he saw no reason why the militia got so much shit from the regular army. Maybe it's because they're only on duty in times of war unlike us. Meh, so what? Least they still fight. "Hey, I've got an idea. Let's watch each other's backs and make sure we both make it home in one piece. Deal?" He stuck his hand out for a shake, one to seal the deal.

Lilly giggled as well at the statement. "Aha, yes I am well aware of that. It is something I have endeavored to work on." When James offered to watch her back (in return for her watching his), she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that sounds like a great idea. We are both scouts after all, so we'll probably be deployed together a fair few times." After gently shaking his hand, Lilly motioned at his pack. "You seem to be ready. Shall we head out? It is getting late, and it would not due to head into battle lacking sleep."

Nodding with a chuckle, James leads the way out of the Armory. "Yeah, that's a good point. It's only 2030 though, we got a little bit of time to kill. Up for a drink?" James enjoyed Lilly's company, something he was pleasantly surprised by. Of course, he'd always gotten along better with fellow scouts and snipers than he had the storm troopers or the bloody gear heads. Those guys made his head hurt.

Lilly shook her head upon being offered to accompany James for a drink. "Though I thank you for the offer, Mr. Hunt, there are a few things I still must attend to. I'm afraid I must decline." She preferred to avoid alcohol anyways. After the two were outside, Lilly looked at the setting sun, back to her new friend and around the surrounding area. It certainly seemed like it was going to be a beautiful night. Bowing as to James, Lilly excused herself. "With that, I must leave you to your devices, Mr. Hunt. I greatly enjoyed our chat, and I suppose I will see you in the morning. Have a good evening." As she headed back to her bunk to finalize her preparations and sleep for the night, a single thought drifted through Lilly's head. What a nice man. I certainly hope he does not come to harm in the battle tomorrow.

Evan's Post

'Sure sure... I trust you've done a good job, but I might as well take a look.'

"Attaboy, Darcsen! I know you'll like it." Evan clapped the sergeant on the shoulder as they headed to the garage. Once they got there, he wasted no time pointing out all the improvements that had been made. "This imp piece of shit has no armour, and trying to attach any plating to it slowed it down too much to be used outside of a city. Found some wire armour laying around. This stuff'll blow a lance before it hits us, so it should give us a bit more protection against lancers. Don't be thinkin it'll stop a tank shell, though, that shit's gonna go straight through." Patting the wire, he pointed out the rags stuck between the bolts, wire and frame. "Of course wire armour is noisy as all hell, so we muffled it a bit with these rags. Don't worry about them fallin out on us, we punched the bolts straight through 'em." Moving onto the gun on the top, Evan pointed to the cannon and continued his speech. "Managed to nab one of the base's recoilless rifles. This bad boy can punch right through a light tank's front armour. Against heavier stuff, you're gonna have to hit it from the side or the rear, and even then you'll be lucky if it manages to go through... BUT it should give us a fighting chance against some tanks. It's got better range and accuracy than a lance, so that's something." Pointing to where the machinegun used to be located (the rifle was mounted a bit to the side), Evan commented on it in a slightly depressed tone. "Eh... we couldn't find a way to mount both the MG and the rifle on this thing at the same time, but HE rounds should still be effective against infantry, so we won't be completely defenseless.". Last but not least, he walked around to the back and pointed out the new mufflers installed. "As per cap'n's suggestion, we threw some mufflers and night optics on the APC. Should make it a bit quieter and easier to work with in the dark."

Stepping back and crossing his arms, Evan surveyed his (and the other mechanic's) handiwork again. Still grinning from ear to ear, it was obvious that Evan took great pride in his work and was very happy with the way their modifications had turned out. Turning to his superior, he asked "Well, Darcsen? Whatchya think?"

Lukas' Post

"Gentlemen, sit. Give the Major your opinions on Siegfried's systems."

"Ma'am!" As he was the first in line, Lukas sat at attention and started going over the problems he'd found (that he remembered) while fighting. "Ma'am, the auto-loader was very useful and got me loading much faster than if I had to work with shells that large by hand, but... It still feels like it could work a bit faster than it does. It has a few places in where it pauses for a second or two without doing anything, and sometimes it fails to ram the shell all the way. I counted at least two occasions where I needed to reach around it to push the shell in by hand." Grimacing at the thought of that unpleasant surprise, Lukas recalled how the auto-loader stall had accounted for him losing a kill to another Imperial tank. Damn it, that light tank was MINE!

Heading off potential criticisms, he continued by stating that he had cleaned everything in accordance with the manual, and that everything had been tuned to specification. He did not want to be told that there was no fault in the design, when the issue clearly did not lie with him. "The turret rotation was fine, though, and the 120mm performed much better than I expected. If I may, Ma'am, the turret and weapon systems are all fantastic."

After giving his report, Lukas sat back, blushing and slightly embarrassed. He did not like being put on the spot for so long, but he loved that tank and wanted to see it improved in any way it possibly could be. He just hoped that the feedback he gave was useful enough.

[AtomicNut]

Fina

"...sorry..." Fina let out a meek response before cutting herself short and shuffling back to a table, where she was poured a cup of tea. She let the rising steam from the concoction hit her nose, before looking at the sergeant twice. Looks a homely guy, there. She then sat quietly through his reexplanation of the briefing, silently craddling the cup and taking the occasional sip. And for once, she wasn't staring at the table. She was staring at him. The food and tea's characteristic smell in the tent made her feel at home, and quelled her otherwise shaky temper. She was about to even form a smile...

That is, until the Corporal entered the tent, Fina lowering her gaze in return, shrinking back to her usual self. And then, the quip about the Sergeant and young ladies landed a critical hit on her, making her blush like mad and half spitting the tea back into the cup. Is the sergeant wooing each one of his female recruits? I mean he's cool and all that but...Fina get your mind out of the gutter!

The young recruit then eyed the sergeant and the Corporal respectively. She set her tea aside, but her gaze was focused on the table, still avoiding eye contact. "Um, many of the quesquesquestions I wanted were to be in pripriprivate." She added, stuttering once again."Sorry." She really wanted to know about her sergeant, after all Darcsen had to look for eachother, right? She clenched her fist and took a hold of herself. She was to participate in an operation, there was no time for her social awkwardness to get in the way.

"Um...there is...there is...there...is something else." She purposefully lowered the pace when speaking, to halt her stutter somewhat."About the transfer... It was sudden. Recruits like me are being sent to squads just as soon as they finish their training." Fina took another sip to her brew. "They...don't hide the fact we are fodder, basically. I'm seventeeen." Fina clenched her fist for the first time, her gaze slowly rising to face both the Corporal and the Sergeant."I have training as scout and I'm a good climber, but I can do shocktrooper too. If you want to." Fina said, without hesitation in her voice."I am just bad at talking with people." She finally drank the last of her cup, emptying it.

"Th...Thanks for the tea." She finally added, stuttering back again.

---

Sig

Sigismund scoffed as he sat in his chair, a visible slouch in his stance. He had long since taken his jacket off, being now in his bare torso and dogtags. He took out his booze flask and gave it a generous sip, before letting an exhalation as Marcus and Lukas had done. "Ma'am" Sig said, making a half hearted attempt at saluting with two fingers. "Our baby Siegfried has teeth, no doubt about that. It sang pretty nice." He said with a stupid grin plastered in his face. "However, that's all it is. A fucking baby. First of all, you really need skill to pilot such a heavy tank with the current engine and configuration. It's of no concern for a prototype or people like me, however, be mindful that we have to take account for the average Johann in terms of competence if we are to make more of these. The whole engine and drive systems could use much improvement. The engine's a tank's heart. If it gives in to you, well, we're good as dead, anyway. No matter how thick the armor or how big the guns. Plus it was damn hot inside there. We should check the vents aswell. And there were no leather seats." Sig then scratched his head. "We need more testing, though. We were using our heaviest tank with a crew of handpicked elites against country bumpkins with peashooters. We can't really know how good the tank is until we put it under a true trial of fire."

Having finished, he then grabbed his booze flask and passed it on the Lieutenant. "Do you want some, sir? You looked really pale back there. First time seeing a massacre? Well, at least you weren't in the receiving end. Now that is nasty."

[Bright_Ops]

The scramble for food was not as bad as Andrew had feared. It might have helped that he had gotten here relatively early and knew exactly what kinds of food would last better out in the field the others. The same applied to getting his equipment and ammunition together. Good advice and first hand experience was a wonderful thing it seemed.

Still, that didn't stop Andrew from taking the time to make sure that his lancer was in working order. Considering that the army tended to hog all the good stuff for themselves, it wouldn't be surprising if what equipment the militia got stuck with was defective... A paranoid precaution that was indicated as the trigger on his lancer broke when he tested it out for the fifth time. Cursing under his breath as he turned to head back towards the armory to yell at someone for a new, working trigger when he spied someone that he had met earlier that day that was apart of his new squad. Raising his hand and waving to get her attention, he called out in a voice loud enough to be heard by those nearby "Corporal Stichler, make sure you check your equipment carefully! Just found out my lancer had a defective trigger. Rule number four of surviving in the militia: If you're sharing an armory with the army and they get first pickings of the equipment, assume everything that gets left behind is defective in some way until proven otherwise."

[Slypheed]

Celeste

The conversing hadn't been all too eventful. Just some strategy ideas, and some casual conversation. But the other Darcsen bringing up the fact that one of her questions was to be asked in private made her curious. "What is she planning on doing? Sweet talking to my rank? Or maybe more than that?" She whispered to herself as she looked around for ammo. Celeste never carried grenades, trying to carry as many lance rounds as possible. "I'll have to wait and see, I didn't like how he was trying to pull moves on both of us." Celeste didn't hate the Darcsens, but was leery of two of them, one a higher rank than the other, and what they might pull.

Her thoughts, and her ammo search was interrupted by the new lancer speaking up and waving his arm. He mentioned something she had yet to have, a defect with her lance. "Haven't had a defect in mine yet, though I probably just jinxed it there" She yelled in a joking manner. She'd give it a few test pulls in the morning.

---

Lynette

Sigs comment on needing a real fight was well noted by Lynette "Yes, to test its performance in battle, we'd need targets who could fire off more than 2 shots before they became a corpse. On top of being able to use tactics to fight. That will be done when the army finished up in Gallia and we move back into fighting with the Federation. For now, think of all tests as technical and mechanical tests." She pulled out a notepad and began writing things down. "Engine and drive are already in the works, this was just a substitute system with an engine used in one of the improved heavies. Once that is complete, Siegfried will have a engine and drive that is truly unique. Vents aren't linked to the current engine and run on a separate, smaller engine that can't turn them at the rate needed, will be fixed with new engine." Lynette skipped over the leather seats suggestion. "Moving on to the loader." She looked at Lukas "You're saying the loader pauses and the rammer doesn't get the shell fully into the breach? We might have to do some more testing with it then." She stopped writing, and tapped the pencil on the pad. Fewer problems than I thought. "Is that all? Or do you have anything to add Lieutenant? Anything that hasn't already been spoken?" Lynette asked, looking at Lieutenant Biermann.

[Zarkun]

PFC James Hunt|Outside the Armory

"You as well, Miss Jatmoore." Watching Lilly head off to her bunk, James shook his head and headed off to his own bunk, dropping off his gear and his pack before looking for a pub or other such establishment to get a good drink and some ale to go before they left in the morning. He was also careful not to let any of the officers or NCOs find him looking for alcohol, a talent he perfected back with the army during his down time. Come on, come on, where's the-Ah! There it is! Spotting his target, he heads inside and walks up to the counter, ordering an ale for there and a four flasks of it for the deployment. The bartender shook his head as he handed James his drink.

"Lad, if you're about to deploy, why the hell are you getting drunk?" James laughed and took a drink of the ale.

"Ah, that's the thing, I don't get drunk, I have a drink for good luck and then drink when I'm not doing anything important while in the field. I've got it down to a science." With another shake of his heaed, the bartender gives the young soldier his flasks and serves another patron. Bah, I'm not dumb, I know the regulations for this kind of stuff. Finishing his ale, he pays the tab of one drink and takes his flasks back to his bunk, where he stores them in his pack. "There we go, ready to go in the morning."

[Lennon79]

Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

0430 March 30th 1935 EC
Squad Four Barracks, Fort Breda

Clutching at a hot cup of tea like it was the elixir of life, Sergeant Harald sneezed in the early morning chill. It had been a long night discussing the upgrades to the squad's APC with Carn and at some point alcohol had gotten involved. A mild headache added another layer of irritation to an already grim morning. The others were getting themselves together as he waited, collecting their gear and packing up as well they could for the trip ahead. Harald had also received a memo in the night; another transfer was inbound apparently. The note stressed that the soldier would find Squad Four before they left, but as he looked around at the tired faces of his gathering squad, he realised that there wasn't much time left. 'Stichler, you're in charge.', he called into the barrack house. 'I need to see the Captain.'

The odd sentry gave him a disapproving glance as Harald made his way across the base to the officer's quarters, but he ignored them. Even in full uniform with a helmet on, his distinctive Darscen hair was obvious to the seasoned racist and it would be naive to think his rank would change any minds. Still, he couldn't help but feel optimistic for some reason. Perhaps it was the addition of another Darcsen squad member, but suddenly Harald didn't feel quite so... alone. It made a certain kind of sense, he reasoned. After living all his life in Rinneheim's Darktown, the prospect of being separated from his people was quite daunting... He hadn't really let himself think about it so far, but Fina's arrival had reminded him of many things; long nights in the tavern, dancing away with serving girls, the ever present rhythmic pounding of the blacksmith's hammers, even the godawful smell- a melange of acrid smoke, failing sewers and unwashed bodies... Homesickness was a bitch.

It didn't take long to reach the Captain's office within the main annex building. The Captain's room was full of all manner of trinkets and memorabilia; crossed swords lined the walls along with a gilded Imperial dynastic shield and a dozen certificates and old photographs. For a long moment he just marvelled at the sheer ostentatiousness of the display, cynically comparing it to his own log-built office in the barracks... '... Sergeant. I may not look it, but I am a rather busy man.' Jerking to attention at Meulemann's irritated tone, Harald saluted in the most apologetic manner possible. 'My apologies, sir, I was distracted. I came because of the note you sent last night about a transfer?' The details had been pretty vague, but at this point Harald was just happy to have another gun in the squad. 'I was wondering where I might find him?'

Lieutenant Beirmann, Imperial Army

As his subordinates began to outline their suggestions, Marcus leant forward on steepled fingers. His handpicked crew was... eccentric, but they said that madness and genius go hand in hand. That said, the excessive aggression displayed by Glockner was enough to give him pause; if the gunner didn't always seem to hit every damn shot he fired, Marcus would have him discharged and sent for re-education. But despite his foul tongue, Glockner did a good job of critiquing Siegfried's weapon systems, even bringing up a point about the auto-loader that Marcus himself hadn't noticed. Schmidt was equally forthcoming, although something about the way he spoke irked him, some inherent lack of professionalism perhaps... He submitted the driver to a cold stare. 'I will pass, 2nd Lieutenant. I live in abstinence as the Yggdist Church demands.' He sat back slowly, his mind reviewing the battle once more. Massacre was an appropriate word. 'I have perpetrated many so-called massacres, 2nd Lieutenant and I have taken no joy in any of them. These Gallian simpletons are no soldiers... I will admit that it leaves a bad taste in my mouth; killing Gallian... soldiers is like killing Federation civilians. They offer about the same degree of resistance.'

His eyes flicked back to those of his superior as she gave her piece and he weighed up his reply slowly. 'From a commander's perspective, Siegfried is almost perfect. It can engage any enemy at any range and deflect any round from any land-based weapon. However I would recommend an armoured cupola for the commander; several times I was forced to duck into the turret to avoid infantry fire and that negatively effected our performance.' And leather seats... He didn't say that aloud however... 'Overall ma'am, I would say that Siegfried has passed it's first combat test with flying colours and that the overall design has proven a resounding success. As for technical details, I do have a few suggestions...' The four of them continued the discussion until long into the night. Around them the rest of Squadron 655 celebrated yet another victory for the glorious armies of the Empire as columns of black smoke rose over the remains of the Gallian line.

[Willy Vereb]

0458 March 30th 1935 EC
Meulemann's Office,12th Company Headquarters, Fort Breda

"I was wondering where I might find him?" Sergeant Harald from Squad 4 politely asked his superior. Suddenly they noticed a slight commotion going on outside. "Hey! Who said you can lug that thing around? Leave it here!" *THUMP* Deep and muffled noise could be heard as something heavy made contact with the ground. Did they deploy field artillery? No, it sounded way sharper than that, mayhaps similar to a heavy spike? "I think you're about to meet him, Sergeant. Good, he's also right on time." Meulemann said while checking his pocket watch. A soldier must be punctual, that was part of his motto. Steel-plated footsteps typical to military boots were heard climbing the wooden steps and they were coming closer. In a short while the door opened to reveal the new figure. He was short, about 5'6" tall, and aside from the rusted imperial breastplate he was wearing standard Militia gear. His facial features told he must be around 15-16 years old albeit his eyes were burning with spirit and determination. His bluish dark hair and traditional shawl were obvious signs to his Darcsen origins albeit the cloth pattern was a strange variation Harald likely never heard about. "Private First Class Kyo is reporting for duty, Sir!" The boy who just introduced himself as Kyo saluted to his superiors. Strange, Kyo was anything but a traditional Darcsen name. Things started to seem confusing. "At ease, soldier! Permission granted to enter." To Meluemann's word Kyo entered the office, his eyes never wandering to the decorations. "My name is Tarquin Horscht Meulemann, captain of the 12th Company. From this day on you are under my command. Am I understood?" "Yes Sir!" "Good! Then allow me to introduce your new leader. This gentleman in front of me is Sergeant Harald, leader of Squad 4 and your direct superior. Sergeant, this young man is Private First Class Kyo, your newest squad member. Make sure you are acquainted before the next battle. Now, I'm afraid I have some important business to do. Dismissed."

After that Kyo left. He picked up Kirugane, a colosal 60kg sword, at the checkpoint. That thing was practically as large as Kyo himself and obviously weighed a lot. Yet he carried the heavy sword around in one hand as he followed Sergeant Harald back to Squad Four's barracks.

[Slypheed]

Celeste

The Sergeant left me in charge for the time being. Oh god. Celeste thought, not too confident that she would be able to help everyone with their problems. But she resumed what she was doing, although her hands were shaking a little. She pulled the trigger for the twentieth time, but it all sounded good. There was obviously no round attached to the lance, for everyone's safety. Celeste looked at her Lance, it looked in decent condition, minus the scratches and the 2 second longer loading time to make sure the round was secured on the end of the weapon. Other than that, the weapon fired perfectly fine, a weapon that obviously saw some heavy use at some point. "You're just an ol' faithful aren't ya?" Celeste asked her weapon, no response obviously, but she continued "Well, don't fail on me either." She had completely spaced on her surroundings and anyone nearby.

Brenna

The morning was cold, but she stood in front of the barracks in full uniform. Brenna wasn't at attention, but she didn't look relaxed either. She had taken a sneak peak at the APC, knowing that mountain of muscle was fixing it up. She saw the caging, and could only imagine how noisy the ride was going to be. She remembered driving an APC in training with similar fittings, and it was noisy then, she imagined it was going to be no different this time. Though Brenna did find herself happy that she wouldn't have to drive it, and only endure the sound from the back of it.

She kept her stoic appearance on the outside as usual. Just staring off into the distance, not at anything in particular. She was bracing herself for two things, for the possibly noisy trip ahead, and for any social interaction that may happen at any point. Her weapon was slung over her shoulder, and her ratpack by her feet. She had been one of the last people to gather up food and ammo, she didn't have much in choices when it came to food, and she could swear one of the magazines she had picked up was full of chalk rounds. Too late now she thought, and just continued on with some random thoughts about how bad the ride was going to be.

[Raven_Operative]

Lilly'S Post

... What if I trip? What if I miss? What if I can't run fast enough? ... What if I die? What if my friends die? What would become of me if I am wounded? Contrary to what she told Hunt, Lilly had (despite her best efforts) been doing anything but sleeping for majority of the night. Nervousness, uncertainty and sheer terror kept her from getting a restful sleep, which caused her to worry even more. What if I fall asleep? What if I'm too tired to fight? What if, what if, what if, what if... Thoughts of home, her responsibilities, the battle of Rinneheim, and her (somewhat unsatisfactory) performance in the training battles continued resurfacing. While not an especially pious woman, this was one of the few nights that caused Lilly to pray genuinely. She clasped her hands and bowed her head as she lay in bed, asking for the Valkyrur's protection and assistance in the upcoming battle. This simple action helped to calm her a little, and eventually she fell into a fitful slumber when tiredness finally won out.

The commotion of people moving around the sleeping quarters was what eventually woke Lilly up. She groaned, rubbed her eyes and rolled out of bed as the rest of the squad began preparing and assembling for the mission. Fortunately her gear had already been nicely packed the night before, so all that was required was her changing into combat dress.

...

Rifle... Check. Pack... Check. Bullets... Check. After making sure that everything was in order, Lilly slung her pack onto her back and rifle onto her shoulder before heading outside to await the arrival of the APC and their sergeant. Her preparations had paid off apparently as despite her sleepy start, she was still one of the first to be ready. Yawning as she exited the barracks, she walked over to talk with Brenna - one of the few people who were ready, and the only one who she had conversed with before. Yaawwn... "Good even- Sorry. Good Morning, Brenna. ... I suppose this is our second battle together. What do you think of the mission?" 'Terrifying.' was Lilly's own mental answer to her question. Though she didn't expect all battles to be like Rinneheim, the fact that her only experience in live combat was a frantic retreat from a massacre meant that her perception of war was far darker and more desperate that it might be in reality. She hid this fear though, not wanting to drag down her allies with her. Be strong for the squad, Lilly. You cannot let anyone else be affected by your fear, and you need to prepare yourself so that your fear does not affect you in combat.

Evan's Post

Evan had slept in later than he had planned. He had wanted to give one last inspection of the APC before the mission, but his exhaustion from the manual labour of the day before ensured he was in no condition to wake up an hour early. He would just have to hope that nothing had changed in the 8 hours between his inspection last night, and the mission this morning. After packing his pistol and small amount of gear, he left the barracks and headed over to the garage to bring the APC around. A quick look over revealed nothing out of the ordinary, so it appeared that everything was in place. After doing one last double check to make sure they still actually had fuel and ammunition loaded, he slid into the drivers seat and started the vehicle up.

It was about 15 minutes after everyone had been assembled that the APC made it's way to the squad. Much to Evan's delight, the rags they had used as makeshift noise dampeners were working fantastically. The wire armour still clattered when he went over a large bump, but the rags seemed to cushion it enough that it remained relatively quiet while in motion. "Well within the noise limits." He mumbled to himself as he mentally compared it to what the mission required. Leaving the APC running, Evan quickly jumped out (but left his pack and weapon beside the drivers seat) and formed up with the rest of the squad to await the Darcsen's instruction.

[Zarkun]

James had been up about another ten minutes after he'd gotten back from the bar where he'd procured his ale for the trip into the field, which was all it had taken to secure it out of sight in his pack. From there, he'd slept soundly, oddly unafraid for this being his first live fire battle. When the wake up call was given, he got up without complaint and headed to the showers, getting in and washing. That took about five minutes. They had thirty until the morning muster before their squad set out for their first objective, so he spent another ten just standing there, letting the water wash over him. This would be the last decent shower he got in Valkyrur knew how long, so he just enjoyed it. After he got out, getting dressed in battle gear, at least for him, was a matter of seconds rather than minutes, everything on and positioned correctly within two and a half minutes. Picking up his rifle and pack, he watched as the militia members continued their grumbling about the early morning and chuckled. Welcome to the military.

Shouldering the pack, he headed out to the muster yard and looked around, spotting Lilly talking with another member of the squad, one he didn't know yet, so he approached the pair with a smile on his face. "Morning ladies. Beautiful day for a battle, isn't it?" He realized after he made his joke that he should probably try to curb his smart mouth for the next few weeks, otherwise he might get shot for insubordination. He could handle a demotion, hell, even getting attached to the militia, but shot? That sure wasn't on his to do list. "How you two holding up?"

[AtomicNut]

Fina rechecked her equipment and fixations for the ninth time. First battle of her life. She drew breath quite deeply, and kept rechecking all the things she was carrying. Her hands did deft movements as she spoke, like if her backpack was the store of her father and her weapons and food were the goods. She had always helped managing things, and after a few times, inventary was a automatic skill to her. She shuffled her feet while gripping her rifle tightly, eyeing the floor in a rather flighty manner. Her gait was trembling and full of fear, and her weapon even ocassionally rattled, but her hand was firmly clenching it and not letting it go.

The talk with the sergeant had been soothing to a degree and she could sleep the night without the usual recurring nightmares, but the harsh truth called her back. Darcsen weren't liked at all, and she was just a teenager girl with a gun, the last member of a family with nowhere to go. Her only hope was now to obey orders, and kill people.

Well, she had already done that, had she not? Dead people had awful faces. Fear and pain. Who could've thought that a gun would make her even in the slightlest threatening before? She didn't like it in the slightlest. But it was neccessary. If she had to choose to kill Imperials to save her family and brethen, she would do it again. A thousand times.

Fina yelped slightly when she managed to reach the other soldiers in absolute silence, if it wasn't by the nervous rattling of her gun against her hands. Someone was trying to flirt with others, apparently. She had just intruded. She felt like shuffling back to the background, but for some reason she had to keep up with them.

"Aaaa...mormormorning." She let in a weak wail, full of awkwardness.

[Kitsune]

Alex Glaive

"Meow~"

"Yeah, I know... Don't worry, I am sure someone else will feed you."

Alex placed the last of her saved up meat ration down onto the ground for the small cat before her, between training and playing with this cat that she suspected belonged to either a higher up or a local. They even had a small meeting place behind one of the hangers, a norisy place sure but it was away from everyone else. She still seemed to be distrusted in a way, still at least the cat was fine with her. Reaching out she stroked the cats soft fur a few times "I'm off to fight my own people you know... I wonder if I will even be able to pull that trigger..." With a sigh she stood from where the cat was eating, giving it a small wave in goodbye.

Making her way back to the barracks Alex went in through the back door so she could grab her stuff on the way, as always she acted as a true solider, everything ready and waiting for her to pick it up. Still she would have to admit that she missed people doing such things for her. After reaching the spot where they had to wait for their sergeant Alex noticed Lilly talking with some people, and though she only caulght the end of the conversation she decided to speak up.

"I am sure they are fine, their strong."

Something of a attempt at boosting the others confidence, it was then that a new persons greeting came Fiona. "Good morning." She gave a blunt response, though at least it was not devoid of emotion since she was trying to get these people to warm up to her. That was to be tested as Sergeant Harald came walking up to them with another new person at that "Ah I see you are ready, good! This is Private First Class Kyo, and-." Alex interrupted their Sargent, her eyes looking sharper than before as she pointed towards Kyo

"What is with that imperial breastplate?"

She suspected that it was her imperial nature but seeing a Darcsen wear something like that worried her if he knew who she was, and got her a little ticked off. at the same time. The only thing that was the same about her was her build and eyes, though her crimson red eyes could have been enough, but she was overthinking it, like the other imperial it is possible that he knew nothing, or was just someone who took it as a trophy.

Sergeant Harald

Harald relaxed the moment that they were outside of the building "At last. Oh Welcome to the team by the way." He tried to put a arm around Kyo's shoulder by this point, he was happy that another Darcsen had joined their squad and a tough looking one at that. "Impressive sword by the way, i'm surprised you can effectively use that thing in real combat" He gestured to it as they were walking and he took his arm away.

It did make him stand out a little, along with his chest plate and Darcsen shawl he could tell the others may have been a little shocked by him as well given the looks on their faces. "Ah I see you are ready, good! This is Private First Class Kyo, and-." Alex interrupted him by this point, pointing out one of the more risky parts of the mans outfit, and he could understand why. "Kyo, can you explain it? Just for everyone's piece of mind?" Weapons were mostly fine, but it was uncommon to be wearing their armor, accidents can happen after all.

[Willy Vereb]

Sergeant Harald

Harald relaxed the moment that they were outside of the building "At last. Oh Welcome to the team by the way." He tried to put a arm around Kyo's shoulder by this point, he was happy that another Darcsen had joined their squad and a tough looking one at that. "Impressive sword by the way, i'm surprised you can effectively use that thing in real combat" He gestured to it as they were walking and he took his arm away.

@Kitsune

Kyo shrank his body away from the Sergeant's arms. He did not know this man aside from his name, rank and the fact he's the superior officer. Besides, it had been how many years since he ever let himself touched? It won't change now. "The sword's name is Kirugane, Sir. And I view it same as my arms and legs. I promise Sir it will not hinder my movement along with the unit." Kyo responded while also trying to reassure his superior that his unique choice of weaponry won't burden the 4th Squad during battle. The remainder of the time they walked towards the Squad Four's camp quietly.

When they arrived Kyo introduced himself as it was required."I am Private First Class Kyo and..." With a deft move he pierced his giant sword to the ground next to him. "This is Kirugane, my weapon and best friend. We'll be in your care from now on." He said so and meant it. Still, seeing a short and boyish soldier with a sword almost as tall as himself was quite an unusual sight. The fact he treated the weapon as his life partner like old school warriors did only managed to raise that strange impression up to eleven. Yet Kyo didn't mind. He was the son of a great warrior and he wanted to be proud of it. That's about the only thing he had left.

Alex interrupted their Sargent, her eyes looking sharper than before as she pointed towards Kyo

"What is with that imperial breastplate?"

She suspected that it was her imperial nature but seeing a Darcsen wear something like that worried her if he knew who she was, and got her a little ticked off. at the same time. The only thing that was the same about her was her build and eyes, though her crimson red eyes could have been enough, but she was overthinking it, like the other imperial it is possible that he knew nothing, or was just someone who took it as a trophy.

@Kitsune

It did make him stand out a little, along with his chest plate and Darcsen shawl he could tell the others may have been a little shocked by him as well given the looks on their faces. "Ah I see you are ready, good! This is Private First Class Kyo, and-." Alex interrupted him by this point, pointing out one of the more risky parts of the mans outfit, and he could understand why. "Kyo, can you explain it? Just for everyone's piece of mind?" Weapons were mostly fine, but it was uncommon to be wearing their armor, accidents can happen after all.

@Kitsune

"Yes Sir! My fighting style differs from the practices of Shocktroopers and with the suggestion of Corporal Paul Lorenz my former squad leader I created this gear for me. As a low-ranking Militia I could not ask the quartermaster for armor and I had to appropriate this from fallen enemy soldiers on the battlefield. This breastplate may look worn out but it already saved my life once." To reinforce his point Kyo put his finger next to a spherical dent left behind by a pistol caliber bullet, apparently shot from an imperial SMG."My dress code and gear is non-standard but I have the 11th and 12th company captains' written approval. Albeit if our squad leader agrees I'd wish to borrow supplies to paint over this armor and match the standard Militia colors. Would it be alright, Sir?"
@Lennon79

[Lennon79]

Private Alonso Bons, Gallian Milita

Bread - three loaves, SPAM - four tins, sardines - three tins... It had been a long and restless night for Alonso, alternating between spells of crippling self-doubt and paranoid delusions of Imperial phantoms peering through the bunkhouse windows. While others slept he had checked his equipment, recounted his supplies and poured over the mission ahead again and again. Even now as he waited for the Sergeant to return, Alonso went over it once more; it was all he could do to stave off the nerves. He wasn't afraid, or so he told himself, but this was his first proper mission. Sure, he had been there at Rinneheim, even thought he might have hit one or two Imps but... but somehow that made it worse. For the first time since that frantic retreat, his rifle was loaded with real ammunition, his uniform fully decked out with combat armour. This time it would be Gallia on the offensive, meeting the enemy on Gallian terms and yet somewhere deep inside, he still felt as though he was fleeing through the streets of Rinneheim as shells landed around him, the implacable armies of the Empire close at his heels. A wave of nausea threatened to overtake him, but the sight of two figures approaching the group temporarily wiped the fear from his mind. What the fuck is he wearing...?

Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

The Sergeant took a long, slow look from face to face as Kyo introduced himself to the squad, noting the varied reactions on display. In truth he sympathised with the suspicious ones; Kyo cut a pretty strange figure with his mixed armour and ridiculously oversized sword, but he could see the practicality of both. Well, the sword less than the breastplate, but if Meulemann had given the green light then who was he to argue? Besides, he reasoned mentally, in the urban combat they were likely to see in Vasel, a skilled swordsman might come in handy. Not so much as a good trenchgun maybe, but beggars couldn't be choosers. 'Alright lads, introduction's over. Plenty of time to chat on the ride north.' He cast his gaze over to the APC, smiling faintly at the prospect of using an Imperial vehicle to assault Imperial positions. 'Kyo aside, you've all been briefed on the mission ahead. Le Haye Sainte is about three hours drive north of here by the main roads, but we'll be taking the side roads to avoid forward Imperial scouts. Expect to reach the target at...' He checked his newly issued pocket watch. '... about 1300, maybe 1330. We'll rest in shifts, one driver and two sentries at all times. Sykora, Carn and, say... Bons will be our drivers. Everyone else will take turns on watch.' He roughly knew who had passed the armoured vehicle course, but at the end of the say Harald preferred to keep his scouts on the lookout, just in case. If an enemy recon team informed the main body of Imperial troops about Squad 4's movements, then they would quickly find themselves being hunted down. 'Alright then boys and girls, mount up. Carn, the driver's seat if you will.'

An hour down the road and the squad was starting to settle in. Harald had taken the first rear stag duty, standing toward the back of the open-air halftrack to keep an eye on their six. Flicking another dead cigarette butt away, he half turned to the others. 'So. People. I'd like an honest answer; now that you've all been brought up to speed on the Vasel operation and our part in it, what are your views? Any insights or opinions?' Despite knowing full well that the enlisted ranks weren't generally encouraged to debate their orders, Harald was determined to retain at least something of his old life and a big part of being a copper was gauging public opinion. Besides, he barely knew the men and women under his command despite spending a week crawling through the dirt of boot camp together, an issue he was determined to rectify.

[Bright_Ops]

Andrew had been rather quiet all morning. Checking his equipment over and over, making sure that his supplies were good to go...And he simply couldn't bring himself to talk to anyone. There would be plenty of time to talk on the way there because otherwise the silence would be more dangerous then anything else.

They would be going into combat as the vanguard and it was hoped that they would be victorious.

When the question of what they thought of the operation they were about to embark on came up, Andrew finally broke his silence. Nerves be damned, his squad mates need a moral boost before they got sent into action. "It doesn't matter if we are fighting at Vasel or in front of the royal palace; We're bloody solders now and that means we only have two major objectives in this war. Keep our mates alive and kick the invading imperial bastards with our steel capped boots where it hurts as hard as we can as often as we can until they kneel over and die or surrender. Our job is not to die for our country, it is to make those bastards die for theirs and Vasel seems to be just as good a place to start as any."

Might not have been the grandest speech, but it would hopefully light the fire they needed to get through what was to come.

[CitrusArms]

Private Regan Durandal

"Huff huff huff haah haah huff..." Dammit! Her squad had been ambushed and wiped out. She felt bad about running away, but what was she supposed to do? Her mortar was too slow to take on all those enemies at once, and besides, they would have surrounded her and eliminated her easily. She had to leave her mortar behind, too... she would have been too slow and been captured or killed. If she could find another squad, she could warn them of the enemy movements. Maybe even reclaim the bodies and equipment they lost. As it was, all she had left was her katana. She couldn't face them all down with just that. She could hear some of them following her.

She stops as shots are fired in front of her, turning around and drawing her sword. It looked like she would have to make her stand here. She'd drawn them away from their unit, presumably, so perhaps she stood a chance... if they were foolish. The fact that they hadn't already shot her yet told her that perhaps they were.

Three imperials approached her, all aimed at her carefully. They surround her... did they intend to engage her in melee? Her eyes tracked them carefully, waiting... for the first move.

The one flanking her to her rear left charged her with his bayonette, and she spun in response, catching the bayonette with her blade and diverting it away from her before she counters, driving her sword up the length of his weapon and slicing through his body, severing his arm. He falls, and the imperial that had previously been in front of her charged her next, but she anticipated his action and heard his sloppy, heavy footwork. She pivoted and spun around his blade, throwing the momentum from that into a slash across his torso. One remaining, and he wised up. He was going to shoot her. She had to close the distance, quickly. She darted to the side, narrowing avoiding getting shot, but he was tracking her movement. She dashed toward him, but he'd backed away already. She wouldn't make it in time...

[Zarkun]

James didn't say anything when the sergeant asked for their opinion on the operation. In all honesty, it seemed sound enough to him that he wasn't super concerned with execution yet. Then one of the other guys gave a big old patriotic speech about how they should be making the other guy die for their country and he shook his head as he kept watch as one of three on duty for the time being. He tuned out anyone else talking so he could focus back on his duty. Heh, funny the only time I ever take my duties seriously is in the field. Riserre always hated that. As he sat looking out, he thought he heard gunfire. He tapped three times on the driver's compartment, signaling a stop. "I think I he-" There it was again, a series of shots.

Jumping down, he took off towards the source and stopped, listening. Come on...where is it... Another shot, off to his left. There! Moving through the brush, he came out in time to see a Gallian soldier rushing an Imperial trooper with a...katana? Later, time to do my job. Bringing his rifle butt to his shoulder, James took aim, putting the sights on the man's chest, and quickly feathered the trigger, six shots leaving the barrel, and six shots found their mark. The Imperial fell over, blood coming from the holes in his chest, but James kept his rifle up and the barrel pointed at the woman. He'd heard of tricks like this, where they sacrificed their own troops to lure in enemies with a false sign of distress. "Identify yourself or I will fire."