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The war fought not with guns
#1
She'd been here for over a year now. It had to be approaching two. Victoria tried to muster some thoughts for it, but finally gave up. The combination of the midday heat, and the pounding of the helicopter blade, and the roaring of the wind through the open door was enough to scatter any real attempt at solid thought like that. She could check her diary when she got back. Victoria kept everything that happened in her life punctually ordered in a book, events bullet pointed under dates, sometimes even times. Occasionally she'd sit back and just laugh at herself. A true military stereotype. Perhaps she'd be more suited to screaming at recruits in a boot camp, and chewing nervous young soldiers out for being late by a minute.

Idle fantasy, of course. Rather boring idle fantasy. As much as Victoria would wonder on what else she could be doing now, if things had gone differently, she enjoyed leading the Third. It was funny. When you went through the gates of hell with a group of people, they amusingly enough started to grow on you. She'd been offered the occasional position elsewhere since the Imam War, but Victoria was reluctant to leave her regiment, even the Panzer Division. They trusted her too; and could you truly leave people who relied on you, trusted you, to the unknown? Her duty to the Third was as strong as its duty to her.

A sharp voice snapped her out of her reverie, causing her to look up. One of her men was leaning over, shouting out over the din that they'd be arriving in ten. It took her a moment, before Victoria closed her eyes, clearing the fog in her mind out, and gave him a sharp nod. Lieutenant Durand, right. New guy, fresh from officer academy. All so excited to serve with the hardened Third. Serving as a kind of aide-de-camp until Victoria gave the go ahead. He wasn't half bad. Arrogant, but he was young, competent enough, and handsome. Arrogance was assured. She could've laughed at herself again. Victoria was what, five years older than him, and acting like it was twenty. She was never entirely sure whether her confidence was arrogance like she criticised, or well grounded in her abilities.

Well, that was what she tested on campaign.

As the helicopter stepped down, Victoria was stepping out before it had truly touched down, holding herself steady in the swaying dust and wind, an arm over her mouth. The grey beret on her head with the 3rd's insignia, the orange epaulettes, and blue marking on her camos marked Victoria out. A shout rang out, and the soldiers gathered around snapped to attention as their colonel surveyed them. Her gloved hand moved up to put a pair of sunglasses on, and with a small press, the land warrior sprung to life, her vision highlighting the people in front of her, fading as the dust cleared.

"At ease."


The still ranks, arms raised, fell back into their bustling mass. It wasn't like the whole regiment was here; that wasn't needed. Three trucks had come to the small Syrian town, escorted by a pair of jeeps, both with heavy rail-guns mounted on the back. The pair of men on them were relaxed enough to not seem as a threat to the locals, but Victoria knew their eyes saw everything. If anything came up, they'd be firing instantly. They didn't have any of the power suits out here. For one, it was far too hot for it, and there was a fine line between impressing and starting to intimidate. Three truckloads of prime Custody infantry was enough to impress upon people that Victoria wasn't playing here.

Durand appeared at her elbow again, clearing his throat to get her attention. Victoria just nodded, which got him talking as the pair of them paced into the village, the Colonel flanked by a squad of her men. She herself was unarmed: mostly. She had her sidearm, of course, holstered on her hip. But it wasn't for shooting that she'd need it. Hopefully not today.

"The Town Elder is... stubborn. A bit angry, too, by the looks of things. Doesn't appreciate us coming here, I think. He wasn't open to Captain Henderson, but, well, you've got the magic touch, ma'am."
The smile om his face immediately died when Victoria didn't react to the jest, mouth remaining set in its grim line, eyes hidden by the sunglasses. Clearing his throat, Durand continued. Victoria would undoubtedly drill the humour out of him in her presence. It wasn't exactly intentional, and it wasn't like Victoria stopped it at all. It was just... humour tended to die around her, a bit. "I think, from what the searches have come up with, talking with the locals, that the town is supplying the cell we've been looking for. And that he'll know where their base is."


Victoria cut him off sternly. "I don't need speculation, Lieutenant, I need facts. This is less than useful, as it means I will be going in their with expectations. I only want speculations that can be backed with real; evidence, not hearsay, am I understood? Lives rest on this."


Durand visibly wilted, and stammered out an apology, promising it wouldn't happen again. Victoria was already striding forward however, to the central building. That would be it then. Durand was useful, but his inexperience had made itself known again. That was irritating. Taking a deep breath, she stopped, calming herself down. It wouldn't work if she went in their irritated.

Letting out the deep breath, her hand rested on her sidearm, and the power flowed through her.

Victoria successfully kept any reaction down. Really, she wanted to let out a small groan as the euphoria of it filled her. As straight-laced as she was, the fact that it was so addicting honestly scared her. She was too disciplined to let it have a hold over her, though. Victoria would not let herself become a tool of her power. Whatever it was.

Steeling herself, straightening her spine, the Colonel strode through the doorway, into the main room of the building. The village elder was sat before a low table, on one of the cushions that were strewn around it. A couple of young men holding ancient Kalashnikovs stood at the corners, suspicion clear across their face. Two soldiers had followed Victoria in, and she could feel their grip tighten on their rail guns, the power heightening her senses. With an almost imperceptible shake of her head, the two men relaxed slightly. Victoria did not fear them. She could stop them herself now, if she wanted. That was purely with the side arm too.

Looking down at the Elder in front of her, Victoria gave a small bow to him. "Greetings, Elder. I am Colonel Victoria Wolff, Commander of the Third Regiment, of Army Division Panzer. May I sit? We have much to speak about.
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Messages In This Thread
[No subject] - by Victoria Wolff - 08-04-2016, 04:06 PM
[No subject] - by Aria - 08-05-2016, 07:52 AM
[No subject] - by Victoria Wolff - 08-05-2016, 10:37 AM
[No subject] - by Aria - 08-05-2016, 10:53 AM
[No subject] - by Victoria Wolff - 08-05-2016, 02:15 PM
[No subject] - by Aria - 08-05-2016, 02:28 PM
[No subject] - by Victoria Wolff - 08-05-2016, 05:05 PM
[No subject] - by Aria - 08-06-2016, 07:00 AM
[No subject] - by Victoria Wolff - 08-06-2016, 10:35 AM

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