08-14-2016, 09:04 AM
The command had Victoria frozen up in front of her Wallet; face almost pure white, unable to move, unable to think clearly. She was panicking, she knew it. If it was connected to the form she had sent in, they'd have said right? It would be from politicians, bureaucrats. The summons would be to do something with the campaign, no doubt.
But what if it wasn't? There was a fear of something as bad as a court martial. Hiding secrets like that from superior officers? The worry that she had made herself a traitor didn't want to go.
Victoria was outside Stanko's office in a matter of hours, having used her rank to reroute anything she needed. A private army car had swiftly taken her to base, the driver lapsing into silence, refusing to face the tense silence made of fear and anger that emanated from the officer. She had decided on full dress uniform for the meeting. Knee length boots, shining so much as to be almost blinding, over well fitted black trousers, pressed to perfection. The jacket was black too, trimmed with orange, the symbols of her rank the same colour. Medals were polished, clipped above the left of her chest. In the Jerusalem heat, she has elected to leave the long overcoat behind; as much as she liked it, it was impractical here. Finally, the peaked, black leather cap rested on her head, orange band hat band holding the shield that represented the Panzer division.
The Major General had a secretary, of course. Victoria stamped to a halt in front of her, boots ringing in the silence of the hallway, eyes staring determinedly at the wall. The mask was as strong as ever; she could well have been made of stone. Show no weakness. Not here, not now.
"Colonel Victoria Wolff, Commanding officer of the Third Regiment, Division Panzer, to see Major General Stanko on his request." She barked the clipped words as well as she had ever been taught. Precise, to the point, and emotionless. As all good officers needed to be.
Edited by Victoria Wolff, Oct 3 2016, 04:28 AM.
But what if it wasn't? There was a fear of something as bad as a court martial. Hiding secrets like that from superior officers? The worry that she had made herself a traitor didn't want to go.
Victoria was outside Stanko's office in a matter of hours, having used her rank to reroute anything she needed. A private army car had swiftly taken her to base, the driver lapsing into silence, refusing to face the tense silence made of fear and anger that emanated from the officer. She had decided on full dress uniform for the meeting. Knee length boots, shining so much as to be almost blinding, over well fitted black trousers, pressed to perfection. The jacket was black too, trimmed with orange, the symbols of her rank the same colour. Medals were polished, clipped above the left of her chest. In the Jerusalem heat, she has elected to leave the long overcoat behind; as much as she liked it, it was impractical here. Finally, the peaked, black leather cap rested on her head, orange band hat band holding the shield that represented the Panzer division.
The Major General had a secretary, of course. Victoria stamped to a halt in front of her, boots ringing in the silence of the hallway, eyes staring determinedly at the wall. The mask was as strong as ever; she could well have been made of stone. Show no weakness. Not here, not now.
"Colonel Victoria Wolff, Commanding officer of the Third Regiment, Division Panzer, to see Major General Stanko on his request." She barked the clipped words as well as she had ever been taught. Precise, to the point, and emotionless. As all good officers needed to be.
Edited by Victoria Wolff, Oct 3 2016, 04:28 AM.