[X] Pursue him alone, he is your problem and you will fix it yourself
You set off to pursue the guilty driver at a fast jog. Soldiers get out of your way with hasty salutes if rather bemused looks. Weaving through the tents you find Jaimes throwing away his food and breaking into a run, only confirming his guilt more. You follow, feeling the uniform pull taut as you break out into long strides, it wasn't made for running. The pursuit takes you around various parts of camp and goes on for several minutes.
Its a good thing there's no one watching this goose chase. You sidestep a bewildered porter, or the whole thing you quickly qualify, any bystanders would just guess it was something urgent.
You eventually lose him in the midst of some supply crates. There are some menials, five locals and a darcsen, doing some job requiring lifting. They look surprised to see you here.
Where is he?
You hear a sneeze from inside one of the crates. You smirk in triumph and silently approach.
You notice the menials have stopped working. You pay it no mind. It looks quite odd for an imperial officer to be tip-toeing in the black uniform.
You thoughts are interrupted when you hear the sound of violence behind you. Turning around you see one of locals strike the darcsen from behind on the skull, who falls to the ground in boneless heap.
What.
You should probably say something but you don't want to tip off your prey. That sort of behaviour is not on, even to d-
Then you notice that they are attempting to surround you.
"Well isn't this a nice present the cat dropped in our lap," one of the men says as others pick up improvised weapons. You're now pretty sure they aren't normal labourers.
You remember how the last colonel departed the mortal coil.
Oh…
Oh balls…
You immediately reach at your hip for your sidearm. Trying to emulate a quick draw from the motion pictures, but you've never focused on personal martial skill. You fumble undoing the holster.
Something hits you in the chest and makes you stagger. You peripheral vision picks up sudden movement. You look up and see men coming at you. The closest assassin is only a few yards away.
After what seems like eternity the service pistol finally slips out.
No time to aim. Release the safety. Pull the trigger.
Fire from the hip. The shot rings out.
Your hand jerks back from the unbraced recoil. The man in front of you falls with a grunt. A second assassin comes at you with an improvised club.
You duck under swing and attempt to counter swing the butt of your gun to strike the attacker's temple. You miss and hit his cheek instead. The blow seems to temporarily stun him.
You can't finish him off as a third man comes at you with a dirk. You don't bother trying to dodge the dagger. Too close for that. Instead you try to deflect it with your off hand seizing the wrist holding the knife. The spy doesn't miss a beat and grabs your gun hand. Both of you stare at each other while holding the others hand.
You're too slow to react and receive a knee to the abdomen. The air cascades out of your lungs as you slump, the fight going out of you. The other two come around and restrain you, throwing the sidearm away.
"You going to pay for that patrician scum", the knife wielder spits in your face. He levels the dagger at your eye level. You would say your life flashed before your eyes but that would be a lie, you just feel empty.
As he is about to plunge it in one of the assassins holding you barks out a warning. He turns his head only to get spear tackled by a familiar Sargethi. They both hit the ground, the knife cast away.
Out of the corner of your eye you see the guy you hit in the face starting to get back up.
The men holding you hesitate for moment before one of them goes for the dropped gun. With only one now restraining you, you push yourself against the sole subduer and the momentum pushes the both of you onto the ground. Struggling you kick yourself away from the man and pick yourself up.
Only to see your own sidearm pointed at you.
The spy grins and squeezes the trigger.
Something moves out of the corner of your eye and hits the assassin's shoulder. Its a steel hip flask. It came from the knife wielders direction, must be Jaimes.
The jerk the projectile causes makes the gunshot miss. You're already moving before he can get a bead on you again. You tackle the man and both of you struggle for the gun.
Unfortunately the situation looks bad for you as the two remaining assassins have picked themselves up.
Then the solid thuds of rifles ring out, downing the enemies. A couple of your scouts appear, likely drawn by the earlier shots. They knock out the man you were grappling with with the buts of their rifles. It turns out he was the last one as Jaimes had pummelled the knife-wielders face in.
You pick yourself up and dust yourself off, wincing at the new bruises.
The troopers call for more help which shortly arrives. The surviving assassins are bundled off where military intelligence will probably pump them for information on other infiltrators before being unceremoniously executed.
As you pick up your sidearm you ask Jaimes who is far less hurt than you, "why did you help?"
"You needed it, figured you wouldn't be mad anymore", he reaches for his flask and takes a sip out of it.
Thats an understatement, you literally owe him a life debt. Still, one thing bugs you, "why didn't you wait for me back at the general's HQ?"
"You didn't say to wait" Jaimes says hoarsely.
You're perplexed, you don't remember this, you're fairly sure you did say so but your memory is hazy. Perhaps you just thought you did or there was a miscommunication? You decide to give the man a pass.
"Then why did you run?" you ask curious.
"When a big man looks at you like that in my town, you hide", he says as if it explains everything.
"See to the health of the darcsen", you mention offhand to one of the soldiers about the menial still laying unconscious on the ground. No point letting him stay untreated and you're a tad grateful about the unwitting warning, a true surprise attack would have laid you low. You turn back to Jaimes.
"You saved me life… twice". You're not sure how to feel. Though grateful for being alive is a start.
Jaimes looks uncomfortable with your statement, "Aye".
"I need to find some way to repay you", you conclude.
"Sahib, I can't possibly in good conscious accept any promotions-" He quickly says before you cut him off.
"How would you like to be my valet?"
The Sargethi takes another gulp from the canteen.
***
After the dramatic events of the previous day, the start of the fourth day is rather mundane. You are reading reports when you receive a mail delivery from a courier. You weren't expecting something this nice so soon. Its things like this that remind you that people care about you.
There are four letters in the bag, you reach in but wince when you pull a muscle still sore and bruised. You slowly turn the bag upside down and empty it. The letters cascade out onto your desk. You slowly sort through them; one from Giselle, one from Mr Hartmann, one from Mo-
Oh look, its a letter from the plum rock. How unexpected. Unfortunately you don't have a handy fireplace around like usual so you'll just have to make do with throwing it in the waste bin. You turn and walk over to it.
You hear the sound of someone feminine clearing their throat from the entrance. Maybe you shouldn't have had your back to the door the whole time.
"Why are you throwing that letter away without reading it?" a familiar disgustingly perky voice pipes in.
It seems Limousini is paying you a visit.
"Because Major Surena", you begin by throwing the letter in the bin, "what I do with my personal mail is my own business". Hopefully she takes the hint and leaves it at that.
"Isn't it a waste to not at least read something thats travelled thousands of miles?" She completely misses your hint and tramples all over your reticence with almost childlike curiosity.
"Its not when the contents are insulting", you turn away from her and walk over to the other side of the room to hide your scowl.
"How do you know that if you haven't read it?" she counters, "Why would someone go to the effort of writing letters just to insult you, are they trying to harass you?"
"No, its the person themselves thats worthy of scorn", you start, still not turning back to face her, "when you loathe someone to such a degree that you want nothing to do with them, then any contact is the source of repugnance". Your hidden glower intensifies, "This person and their cabal of associates have been a source of tremendous adversity in my life, such that-" You're suddenly cut off in your tirade by a bewildered interruption.
"Rudolf… why do you have a grudge against a fourteen year old girl?" Surena asks carefully.
You look back and see her at the waste bin holding the letter open. How did she get there? You didn't hear any movement. Then you register her words.
How dare she read your personal correspondence? It is a gross invasion of your privacy! Those letters were yours to do whatever with. How much did she read while you were going with your diatribe? Also what's with the first name basis? Is that how she got everyone to like her, just calling them by their first names without permission over and over? It won't work on you.
"Major Surena, have you not learnt how offensive it is to read
someone else's mail? Or don't they value the concept of privacy in Limousin?" You struggle to keep your anger in check.
She cringes and looks suitably horrified, "I just thought… since you weren't… ah… I'm sorry". She gingerly drops the letter back into the bin.
Bloody
bastard wouldn't get letters would she? Now she probably thinks you're a petty man-child, who cares what she thinks. But she's a subordinate dammit.
You calm yourself, or at least put on a serene mask. You walk over to the bin and give her a small smile.
"I'll take your advice into consideration
Alexis", you say sweetly , picking the discarded letter out of the bin and putting it on the desk. There, that should resolve her main point. Plus its going to bug you that she read something you didn't.
You could spite her and get rid of the letter when she leaves or you could bite the bullet and read the thing. On second thought maybe that wasn't an appropriate thing to think, you nearly
did literally bite a bullet yesterday. You almost died, that hasn't quite sunk in. Maybe you should try new things that you wouldn't normally do.
[] Read the stupid letter later.
[] Dispose of it after she leaves without reading it.
"Anyway", Surena raises her voice, desperately trying to change the subject "Back to what I was coming here to talk about. I believe Frieda is going to do something… dumb".
"Frieda…?" your mind is still clouded with anger, it mostly clears when you realise your subordinate wants to share her concerns. You want to encourage that sort of behaviour. You sit on the chair behind your desk when your memory catches up, "Oh you mean Major Vorbeck, why do you think this?"
"As you may have noticed Fri- Major Vorbeck has something of a fixation with flames" she fidgets unconsciously while standing there. Shame there wasn't a second chair in here, oh well, no point going out and getting her one.
"I noticed", you respond dryly. Only a dunce could have missed that woman's obsession with fire. Those easterners must have been quite a bother, "Don't see how that could lead to unwise judgements".
"I have… suspicions she may try to sabotage or deliberately delay the modifications to her tanks so your order 'accidentally' won't be fulfilled when the invasion begins" the Limousini woman says cautiously, judging your reaction.
"Why on Europa would she do that?" You exclaim, sitting bolt upright, completely flabbergasted.
"They are just my suspicions colonel", Surena responds quickly while her holding hands out in peace, "I have nothing concrete".
"Still thats a serious claim to make of a peer, whats the basis of these… suspicions?"
"She is a Mithrast colonel, and I believe her experiences in the Far East only added fuel to the-", the she stops herself before making an awful pun, "her principles", she finishes awkwardly.
Oh… that explains some things, that should have been obvious earlier. But goddammit the woman's nearly forty why the hell is she doing something stupid like worshipping fire? She's from a firmly middle class background too, not from some backwater hovel where those beliefs still linger.
You pour yourself a glass of brandy and drink, not bothering to take out a second glass for the major. Too much hassle.
Why… why do
you have to get the crazy people? What's next, is Nivelle going to turn out to be a serial killer, Surena going to be a princess and Mueller a chaste infantryman using tanks as transportation so he can get close enough to personally bayonet federation soldiers?
"Colonel?" Surena interrupts your thoughts, earning another point against her.
"I am not going to endanger the lives of some of my men over an officer's religious beliefs", you firmly conclude.
"Her configuration was unorthodox but its still very workable, she seems to have used it to good effect in the east," Surena counters.
"This is not the east, federation armour actually poses a threat instead of being non-existent," you hit back.
"She's thought of countermeasures like extra infantry support and-" she starts listing off things.
"I'm not having this discussion again", you cut in.
"Frieda can be very stubborn when she feels unfairly judged, perhaps you should have made your reasoning clearer," she says mollifyingly.
You groan and hold your head in your hands, "This is not a committee... what a mess, I'll have to send another order or see her again to make my point". You're in a tough spot, either option weakens your authority. Reaffirming an order with another or quietly letting disobedience slide. At least with the latter you have a fig leaf of cover. They don't respect you, you conclude. They all look at you and see someone too young to hold that rank. Even the differential Nivelle. That must be why they cause you so much trouble. Or it could just be normal inter-personnel friction.
"Those measures might not be necessary, let me talk to her. I'm sure I can get through to her," she tries to pacify you. "You're not trying to have all the tanks converted right?"
You nod.
"Thats somewhat different from what she was rambling about last night at drinks", Surena says in afterthought. "Let me convince her to go along with your plan. I'm sure I can get her to see the upsides of your idea and modify it in ways acceptable to her. Like mounting the flamethrowers on a medium tanks sponsons", She finishes with a nervous smile.
The flamethrowers could be mounted on sponsons? You didn't think of that. Further demonstrating your lack of experience with tanks. If it weren't for Surena you probably would have accepted whatever Vorbeck's excuse was at face value, like; 4-5 days was not enough time to modify all the armour or that the mechanics were delayed by such and such reasons. Bloody hell, a compromise was what you wanted all along dammit! Ugh, maybe you should just quietly rescind the order, after all a famous general once said never to give orders you know won't be obeyed.
On the other hand you see what Surena's doing. That smiling face doesn't fool you. Becoming friendly with all your subordinates... Its clear she's trying to ingratiate herself, maybe to become the power behind the throne. A mistrustful part of you questions if this is all a set up, after all you have is her word. Its not like Vorbeck will admit to disobeying orders.
No... thats paranoia talking. You really shouldn't second guess everyone, you'll become a nervous wreck. She probably wants to make herself indispensable. What she's offering has a bunch of benefits and you have very little to lose. Or you could be wrong and she's not a devious manipulator. Just a gregarious, outgoing person looking out for friends who you personally admit are rather biased against.
If Surena is this obnoxious then you're definitely not going to ask her to help with Giraud and Raeder.
[] Rescind the order, know when to fold and cut losses.
[] Reinforce the order, meet her, order her, whatever.
[] Have Surena talk to Vorbeck into accepting your order. What do you lose?
[] Do nothing, you'll see if Surena's words actually have any weight soon enough.
Her face looks conflicted as she debates whether to say something else. You motion your assent to the Limousini, can't have people holding misgivings in.
"One last thing colonel", she starts off warily. "I've gotten the impression over the past few day that you disapprove of something I did. I'm not sure what it is so I'd like to ask now if I have offended you in any way? If I have is there a way I can make up for it?"
Well... maybe she should have stayed silent. Do you tell her the truth? After all they do say that being honest is how healthy relationships start. But somehow you suspect that saying its her bastard heritage won't keep the conversation civil. Then again that could be a good outcome, seeing her mettle when under fire. Or do you just keep it to half truths? Say she reminds you of someone you know and that may have affected your impression of her. Or just outright lie, you'd have to think of something good.
[] Tell the truth
[] Tell a half-truth
[] Lie
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