10-04-2016, 02:26 PM
Victoria had flown one time in her life before this. That was to Jerusalem, to be stationed down in Dominance V. That was, of course, disregarding various flights in military planes and aircraft. Those has been loud and hot with different men shouting down her earpiece. None of that here, fortunately. It wasn't even that long ago, only a few years, yet it seemed more along a decade, at the very least. Then again her whole life felt like that now. A year and two months since the Third's stand at Amman. Almost a year to the day channelling. A month since the cave with that... thing. It was enough to make her head spin. It was hard enough getting past being a Colonel, and having just turned twenty four. Now she was on a plane to meet with General Bader Koertig in Moscow; and in First Class, no less. First class was weird. She had her own seat, an actual comfortable one, and someone had brought her champagne. When was the last time she had champagne? Sipping from the glass reminded her why it had been so long, and she sat it down with a grim twist to her mouth. Memories of choking down the bubbly drink at her promotion dinner surfaced, accompanied by frozen smiles for all the other officers shaking her hand. She'd still been in shock at that point.
She didn't belong here. Looking around, Victoria sunk further into her seat at another look at her fellow passengers. All of them were dressed... well. Dresses, some in suits. Expensive, tailored clothes, jewellery that probably cost more than her annual wage. Victoria had just wanted to dress comfortably for the long flight, knowing she'd arrive in freezing cold Moscow when they landed. Fur lined boots, leggings, and her leather jacket over a long sleeved top. Simple. Stanko could have told her he'd arranged First Class. Still, she'd have to thank the old man. He'd taken in the list of names she'd sent too. Agh, thinking about that made her think of the speech shed had to give to the regiment, and she didn't want to dwell on that. Victoria had teetered on the edge of professionalism there. She was going to miss them.
Getting on board to her first class eat had been trouble enough. Her hand strayed to the holster under her jacket. Well what did they expect her to do! Leave it in her bag? At least Victoria had the grace to approach the airport guards and explain that she had a gun on her. When they had, probably understandably, overreacted she couldn't even touch it to use her power to calm their nerves. That would probably have gotten her shot. The proof of her rank had snapped them to attention instead, and after a short discussion, she'd been ushered on board, firearm still hidden under her clothes. Even if they had made her put it under her shirt too. The real confusion had started when they had gently driven her to the front of the plane. Victoria hoped her baggage was actually in the plane after the confusion. It was absolutely terrible of her admittedly, but one bag was just filled with rugs. In her defence they were beautiful craftsmanship and she wasn't leaving them behind. It was... an excusable memento. Sure. Go with that.
Before she could start grumbling to herself, Victoria stopped that. Here she was on a First Class flight, going to personally meet with the General of the Ground Forces, and all that she could do was find reasons to complain. Opa would have her skin tanned for that rudeness. She gave a small smile to herself at the thought of her bustling grandfather; she could just see his great, grey moustache twitching away in her head. He'd be proud of her, if she ever found the time to go home. His little cadet, all grown up. Eyes fluttering closed, Victoria let out a small yawn, snuggling back into the cushioned seat. Four hour flight. May as well catch up on some of the rest that had been nonexistent over the past few days.
Moscow was cold. Colder than expected. Shivering at the, compared to Jerusalem, biting wind, Victoria dragged her coat further around her. She'd managed to get that out of her bag when she had seen the dark, grey clouds outside when landing. Well, when she'd had time to stop gaping at Moscow. Even the airport! It was like nothing she'd ever seen. The city was a mass of towering skyscrapers, more modern than anything she'd seen before. What was there to compare? Jerusalem, only less than twenty years united, and Munich, a small scale city. She felt like a country girl on her first trip to the big city. Her eyes narrowed at that; she felt like a naive, young girl.
Shaking herself, Victoria stalked forward from the airport. She was no child to be starstruck by towering buildings. Damn it she was a Colonel of the CCD, and making her way to the Kremlin to meet with a general. The look on her face actually made a man in front of her stumble when he caught her eyes. It'd have taken no small amount of bravery to meet that icy stare. At least the airport had been kind enough to keep her bags for now. Anything for the Colonel, the Security Chief had stammered. That dampened the edge a bit. Well, like putting a plaster of a gaping wound. Something, at least.
Maybe the rest of her day would prove promising, Victoria thought to herself as she stared around at the milling masses of people coming and going through the entrance. Now. How to actually get to the Kremlin?
She didn't belong here. Looking around, Victoria sunk further into her seat at another look at her fellow passengers. All of them were dressed... well. Dresses, some in suits. Expensive, tailored clothes, jewellery that probably cost more than her annual wage. Victoria had just wanted to dress comfortably for the long flight, knowing she'd arrive in freezing cold Moscow when they landed. Fur lined boots, leggings, and her leather jacket over a long sleeved top. Simple. Stanko could have told her he'd arranged First Class. Still, she'd have to thank the old man. He'd taken in the list of names she'd sent too. Agh, thinking about that made her think of the speech shed had to give to the regiment, and she didn't want to dwell on that. Victoria had teetered on the edge of professionalism there. She was going to miss them.
Getting on board to her first class eat had been trouble enough. Her hand strayed to the holster under her jacket. Well what did they expect her to do! Leave it in her bag? At least Victoria had the grace to approach the airport guards and explain that she had a gun on her. When they had, probably understandably, overreacted she couldn't even touch it to use her power to calm their nerves. That would probably have gotten her shot. The proof of her rank had snapped them to attention instead, and after a short discussion, she'd been ushered on board, firearm still hidden under her clothes. Even if they had made her put it under her shirt too. The real confusion had started when they had gently driven her to the front of the plane. Victoria hoped her baggage was actually in the plane after the confusion. It was absolutely terrible of her admittedly, but one bag was just filled with rugs. In her defence they were beautiful craftsmanship and she wasn't leaving them behind. It was... an excusable memento. Sure. Go with that.
Before she could start grumbling to herself, Victoria stopped that. Here she was on a First Class flight, going to personally meet with the General of the Ground Forces, and all that she could do was find reasons to complain. Opa would have her skin tanned for that rudeness. She gave a small smile to herself at the thought of her bustling grandfather; she could just see his great, grey moustache twitching away in her head. He'd be proud of her, if she ever found the time to go home. His little cadet, all grown up. Eyes fluttering closed, Victoria let out a small yawn, snuggling back into the cushioned seat. Four hour flight. May as well catch up on some of the rest that had been nonexistent over the past few days.
Moscow was cold. Colder than expected. Shivering at the, compared to Jerusalem, biting wind, Victoria dragged her coat further around her. She'd managed to get that out of her bag when she had seen the dark, grey clouds outside when landing. Well, when she'd had time to stop gaping at Moscow. Even the airport! It was like nothing she'd ever seen. The city was a mass of towering skyscrapers, more modern than anything she'd seen before. What was there to compare? Jerusalem, only less than twenty years united, and Munich, a small scale city. She felt like a country girl on her first trip to the big city. Her eyes narrowed at that; she felt like a naive, young girl.
Shaking herself, Victoria stalked forward from the airport. She was no child to be starstruck by towering buildings. Damn it she was a Colonel of the CCD, and making her way to the Kremlin to meet with a general. The look on her face actually made a man in front of her stumble when he caught her eyes. It'd have taken no small amount of bravery to meet that icy stare. At least the airport had been kind enough to keep her bags for now. Anything for the Colonel, the Security Chief had stammered. That dampened the edge a bit. Well, like putting a plaster of a gaping wound. Something, at least.
Maybe the rest of her day would prove promising, Victoria thought to herself as she stared around at the milling masses of people coming and going through the entrance. Now. How to actually get to the Kremlin?
