Greetings mortals, you're king has returned! So I know I should PROBABLY be working on my other fics, but eh. When was the last time I did what I probably should have done though? So yeah, I'm going to give myself even more work. And yes, I'm working on the supernatural fic... I'm just having a rough time getting a plot together that actually makes sense to people other then me. Alright, enough rambling, now what this is.

Mortals, this is awesomeness at its finest. I've wanted to write this fic for quite the while actually. If you haven't guess from the summary, this will be a military fic. WARNING! I'm going to kill at least half of the major characters in this, along with ashit ton of just random people. I know, spoilers and all, but I think a fair notice is an order. I won't say who, when, or how, but just know it will happen. I'm sorry, but I don't feel like people complaining to me later when I kill their fave character off. Also, this is going to be in true King Alex style. Lots of angst, lots of emotionally fucked up people, so yeah. Just be careful reading. Alright, and so I now end this ridiculously long A/N. Enjoy mortals.

Wait, one last thing. I'm an Air Force girl mortals, so I'm not COMPLETELY familiar with Army ranks or CoC. If you see something wrong, please tell me! I've spent my hours studying the Air Force chain of command, not the Army, however, for this fic, the Army will better suit the plot then Air Force. Sad, but true, so yerp. I hope wikipedia is right about all this. Also, I'll be using some military jargon and shit, so if you have any question PM me, or leave a review, and I'll do my best! Now I'm done.

I own nothing.


The military attracts all sorts of people, from all walks of life. People typically don't just understand how diverse the population really is. You have your rich kids, your poor slum kids, and your middle classers, but that's not how we classify people here in the Army, at least, not how I do. I don't give a shit how much you're daddy makes, or where you come from. What I care about is why you joined, why you willingly sold you're soul to the devil.

Whatever that reason is, THAT is how I'm going to judge you. Everyone says that they join because it's their civic duty or some shit, but really, that's a load of bullshit. In reality, there are thousands of reasons that people willingly sell their souls to the devil. And sure, not all of the jobs require you to go to the front lines, fighting the bad guys, and in those jobs, you'll see the students, the really smart guys ones who don't know what to do with themselves and think 'fuck it, why not?'. The guys with the degrees in technology and do the logistical shit. These are usually the only ones who can leave the service with their soul intact. Those are the ones who sit behind a desk, pushing pencils while people like me get shot at and killed. Not saying their jobs aren't important, because they are. They supply me and my men with the tools of war. I'm just saying they don't know shit about being a soldier. They can wear the same uniform as me, but it will never, ever mean the same thing.

Should you go to the front lines, should you talk to those who have seen their friends killed before their very eyes, forced to watch helplessly as their friend their battle buddy, their brothers die in front of them, you'll see what killing does to a soul. All a soldier is, is a professional killer. It only takes the first kill, the first death, for those who think this is their 'higher calling' their 'civic duty' to realize, that there is no glory in war. There are no winners, there are no losers. There is only the dead and the broken.

The guys who think being a soldier is their civic duty, their job to protect their homeland? Those are the ones who go first. Those idiots who think they can be the hero. Hollywood and the government has fed them lies, and they foolishly believed them. A one man army is absolutely ridiculous. You alone will not make a difference. You're just cannon fodder, a replacement for the poor schmuck who died before you. Those people who told you that you were special and could change the world? Guess what buddy, they lied to you. Now pick up your gun and let's go. There is a reason we say there is no I in team. When I find bastards like that in my platoons, I give them a pistol with one bullet in the chamber. After all, there are quicker and easier ways to die then to waltz into a hostile war zone and claim you're the savior of the people. Also then I have less paperwork to deal with.

Now, sure there are those who genuinely believe it's their civic duty or something, but those only make up a small percent of the population. Those men and women are a rare breed, and sometimes, they give me hope in humanity. They have their higher calling, and they want to make a positive impact on this fucked up shitty ass world, to use their talents for the greater good. I used to admire these people. Then I watched them get mowed down by machine gun fire, or watched as their convoy explodes, and I realize, humanity has no hope. Those idiots are just misguided fools who believed a big fat pack of lies.

There are those who enlist for revenge too. Perhaps some terrorist attack killed a family member, and they think that by joining up, they can ease the pain in their souls. I think I pity these the most. They think that perhaps if they kill enough enemies, fight hard enough, perhaps they will someday find peace. These poor souls don't realize that every kill tears their already battered souls up more. Every kill, every time they have to pull that trigger, they go further down the road of madness. Eventually, they burn themselves out, and if they cannot find a new purpose, a new reason to live, they die. They're like campfires. For a while, they burn brightly, but then they slowly burn out, with nothing but smouldering embers left. Eventually, those too die, and leave nothing but ash behind. Sometimes, these can be saved, they can find their will, their reason to live once more, however, this doesn't usually happen. The military isn't where you go to find you're happily ever after.

Then there are the one who are so inept at all else, that the military is their only option left. For them, this is just another job, or at least, it is when they start. It only takes the first raid for them to shit their pants and realize the kind of shit they got themselves into. I hate these the most. Cowards like them, they disgust me. Not only are they a useless, but they are also a liability to me and to the team. These are the idiots who get spooked and call for air support on our own troops, because they forgot the position of their own team. These are the bastards who freeze up when the bullets start to fly and then require someone else to save their pathetic useless asses. I hate these fucking pathetic excuses for soldiers so much. I know many a good man and woman who have died because someone is inept.

The best ones are the ones are the sick bastards who come to find a legal way to kill other people. Unfortunately, no matter how much I detest these fuckers, I have to admit that they make the best soldiers. They never break down, they do not cry. When shit hits the fan, and people are dying all around them, their nerves are steel and they are the ones who save the pansies who are cowering in fear. Unfortunately, these ones typically have little regard for their own life, and they die quickly. A shame, but I think things are better this way. If they do not die in combat, they go back to the world and have to face their demons there. Typically, when they do not die, they turn into serial killers, killing civilians. I assure you, there are few more terrifying things then a rouge, highly trained soldier is let loose on a bunch of mindless civilians. It will be a blood bath, I assure you.

Then there are those like me. The ones who come from a military family, and it is expected of them to serve. I like these the most, because they are the one who last, the ones who survive the hell of war. We come in knowing what to expect, what will be expected. We know our job, we know how to execute that job with the efficiency the military is known for. There is no ulterior motive, no reason to serve, other then it is expected of us. We serve, we do our tours, and sometimes, we make careers out of this life. We know that survival is the ultimate goal, not living. After all, how can you live when death is your constant companion, when your soul has been splintered and broken beyond repair? Sometimes, we go back to the real world and start our own families so that this fucked up, twisted tradition can continue. But for the career soldier, for the soldier, the murderer, the soulless bastards that we know we are, the future is never further then tomorrow. Until the day we are discharged, until the day where we no longer have to wear a uniform, why think of something that doesn't exist? Or worse, why let there be a distraction? It only takes a second to die, a second where you aren't on the top of your game, where your head isn't in reality. So why bother with promises of a better tomorrow? Who amounts you can promise me that I will not die? Who amongst you can look over at the man sitting next to you and tell him that he can go home to his wife? You can't, I can't, so why bother? Take life one day at a time, and maybe, you'll see this through.

However, the motive to join is irrelevant once you step outside of the fence. No matter where you come from though, no matter what your reason to serve is, everyone has to do their duty. Everyone must do their job, or else the entire team will collapse. My job is simple. As First Lieutenant and team leader, it is my job to know what is expected of my team, to take them where we need to go, and to try and not get everyone killed. It is my job to know my team and try and keep everyonish alive. At least, that was my job. Now, I'm being reassigned, I'm back stateside. After three tours over seas, I'm being brought back to train a new team, to bring fresh meat to a war zone. I'm being assigned a completely new support team and staff, plus I get to whip a bunch of whiny bastards into shape. Then I get to take them overseas and watch as they slowly get picked off. One or two will definitely be shot. They might make it though. A lucky few will probably be in an explosion of sorts and go back home with some burns. Maybe a few will die. Probably. Almost definitely actually. At least one will be taken by friendly fire because they panicked. If I go in with a hundred men, I'd say I did a damn good job if I can bring 60 of them back. The new wars are difficult and deadly. Everyday, thirty or more troops die, which is why I'm being pulled back to train more hired guns, to make sure that everyone coming in knows their job so that everyone doesn't die.

It will be my job to try and stall the inevitable, to bring my entire team back. Which has never happened, not in my long 12 year military career, but hey, such is life. I know that if I bring anyone in, that the threat of death will always be there. I can prepare them, I can train them, I can do everything perfectly by the book, but I will still never bring an entire team home. You'll hear people bra about a clean record, about wonder commanders and shit, but take a closer look. How many patrols have they been on? How long have they had their command? I'm sure there's some sergeant out there who's never lost a man, but I've never met one. That's life though, and anymore, the deaths don't really bother me, not since the first one.

The first death under my command was rough, I can admit that. I spent weeks trying to figure out what I could have done differently, what I could have done to save the guy. I was only a Staff Sergeant at the time, had just assumed command of anyone. Sure I'd seen people die before, I'd held a guy's hand as the life literally drained out of him, but I was never the one in charge, never the one who was suppose to keep everyone safe. We were out on a normal eight man patrol and it was Private Marcus Astin, a real nice guy who died. He was only 21 when an enemy sniper shot him through the head. We never even heard the bang of the gun. One minute Marcus was there, laughing and joking with us, and the next, he was on the ground, brain matter and blood alike oozing out of his forehead. The guy never had a chance. We never found the fucker either, at least, not that I know of. perhaps whoever took Marcus's life is dead now. It happened years ago, and its a comforting lie to believe.

To this day, his death still haunts me, even though I know I had not control over that. We were suppose to be doing perimeter check and what was assumed secured area. A stupid mistake, a lack of vigilance, and a life was gone. Simple as that. Marcus left behind a wife and an unborn son, while I still live, I still breathe and fight. I was suppose to protect him, and I didn't. The first death is always the worst. But that's the Army life for you. You can mourn, but it won't do you any good. No number of tears will ever bring back the dead. All that is left to do is pick up your gun and keep going. Marcus was replaced, and after that, I just quit caring so much. Of course I'll die for my troops. Almost have on a number of occasions, but I'm can't let the deaths of the men under me haunt me. If they did, I wouldn't be able to do my job. I've some to terms with what I have to do, what I lead ignorant, hopefuls to. I haven't died yet, but honestly, I think I'd be okay if my hourglass ran out tomorrow. I know I am nothing special, and while my superiors think I'm a great little soldier for all of my successful missions, I know differently. I'm lucky and whatever powers above have simply decided that I'm not suppose to die yet. No time to worry about shit that I can't control though.


Aubrey sighed. Putting her pen down, Aubrey closed the cover of her brown standard issue journal and put it away. Stretching her legs, Aubrey yawned. In exactly twenty six minutes, she was due to the conference room to meet her new junior officers and NCO's. Then, after scaring the shit out of her staff and ensuring they knew what she expected of them, she'd have to be outside to the parade grounds at no later then 0900 to begin give her "welcome to the Army, now get the fuck going" speech to the new batch of recruits. After that, she had to supervise and make sure that whoever the drill sergeants were didn't kill the recruits or abuse their power.

Standing up, Aubrey gave her uniform a once over, checking to make sure that there were no creases, her brass was shined and in place, her hair was in order, and that her uniform was perfectly ironed. Which it was, as always. But still, this was her first official day as head of the 32nd infantry company, she wanted to make sure that she projected the proper aurora of confidence, perfection, and leadership. Also, for all that could be said of her, no one could ever say that she was a hypocrite. Everything she expected from her troops, every standard, every creed, she maintained herself. Turning back to the small mirror, Aubrey smiled a bit to herself. Satisfied with her appearance, Aubrey grabbed her patrol cap, executed a perfect about face and marched out of her room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Briskly walking through the base, Aubrey only paused to return salutes from subordinates. Taking a deep breath, Aubrey sighed. There was a reason she disliked Texas, and now she remembered that. It was too damn hot. That and the fucking sand. It got everywhere and was a royal pain in her ass. Of course she'd be assigned to Fort fucking Hood. Of all the places she could be assigned, it had to be Fort Hood. Hell, Alaska would be better then this! And yes, she'd been there before in the winter, thank you very much. But such was life. She might be an officer, but she most certainly wasn't in a position of either high command or authority. The only difference between her and some private was that she got shuffled around more. Good leaders were always in short supply and high demand. It really was most unfortunate.

Hiding her annoyance under her usual mask of indifference, Aubrey continued on her way to the parade building. Finally reaching her destination, Aubrey took a quick calming breath. She was a new LT in a group of probably close knit NCO's. Of course they would be respectful, but they would not respect HER. They would only respect the silver bar on her shoulder. That was how it was suppose to be though. Respect would be earned, and Aubrey liked a bit of a challenge. Also, she would never EVER trust a man with someone who just took something to face value. How many inept lieutenants had she met? Rank meant nothing to Aubrey. Respect was what Aubrey cared for. Rank was given, and respect was earned, plain and simple.

Opening the door, Aubrey was internally delighted when she heard an immediate 'Room 'ten-hut!' Surveying the room, Aubrey was also happy to see that there were five people present. Hopefully punctuality would not be an issue then.

"At ease," Aubrey said, in her command voice. Not to be confused with her ordering voice. There's a difference. More on that later though.

As everyone shuffled into their seat, Aubrey took a minute to fully take in the people in the room. Three men and two women sat in front of her. One guy, the Warrant Officer, Aubrey was guess was rather scrawny looking with a hair cut that was most definitely NOT in regulation. That would change soon, but onto the next man. One was a rather large looking British man who looked like a complete prick to Aubrey. His brass was rather flashy, and his hair was spiked. Also not regulation. But hey, She'd give him a chance before she passed final judgement. The other guy in the room was rather nondescript. Short (regulation) brown hair, nothing major stood out to her.

The two women in the room were both concerning to Aubrey. One was grinning like a serial killer and her hair, though pulled back into a bun was still absolutely atrocious. It was also a very bright red color, that Aubrey wasn't sure if it was natural or not. Who's hair is that red anyway? The other woman was rather short, almost comically so and even from where she was standing, Aubrey could see she had a number of piercings. Thank God she had the sense to not have them in though. Also, on her forearms, there were a number of tattoos which was concerning. Not that Aubrey had anything about a couple tattoos. Hell, she had one on her back. This was the fucking Army of Christ's sake 95% of the population had a tattoo or two. Or three... not the point though. What was concerning was that they were exceedingly prominent on her pale skin and Aubrey knew immediately from the sergeant's slightly slouch posture and the smirk that was there but not at the same time, that who ever this was, they had some serious authority issues. Oh well. She'd change that, or she'd be demoted or reassigned. A rather simple thing really. Unfortunately, she was also the master sergeant, the one Aubrey was going to be walking the closest with. Fucking great.

"Master sergeant," Aubrey commanded, "Front and center!"

Gracefully rising from her seat, the sergeant rose and (squaring all her corners) stopped directly 2 paces in front of Aubrey. Raising her arm into a perfect salute, the Master Sergeant gave a perfect report in.

"Ma'am," She said, "Master Sergeant Beca Mitchell reports as ordered."

"Excellent, at ease" Aubrey said. Perhaps her earlier assumption was actually incorrect, "Introduce yourself, you're men, and what you're specialties are."

"Ma'am, my name is Master Sergeant Mitchell. I've been in the service for eight years and I am an infantry sergeant."

The next in live was the shaggy haired man. Standing in front of her, Aubrey knew immediately that this man had never held a gun before in combat. His posture was sloppy, and he was shaking like a leaf under Aubrey's glare. He probably was some academic lump.

"Ma'am Warrant Officer Benjamin Applebaum reports as ordered," Shaggyhead said, "I've been in service for two years and am an technical expert for communications."

"Excellent. Officer Applebaum, tell me, have you ever been out of wire?" Aubrey asked.

"What's that?," Benjamin asked, confused.

"Very well," Aubrey sighed, motioning for the next in line. Fuck, was this how all of her men were going to be?

Ugh, Aubrey did not like officers like him. Should he have to lead anything more then a bunch of techie idiots, he'd get everyone killed. Aubrey made a quick mental note to find some privates to be assigned to his protection detail. While she did not exactly LIKE the more technical warrant officers, they played an important role in missions. After all, if they needed an airstrike, Mr. Techie over there would be the one to get it for them.

"Ma'am, Staff Sergeant Luke Bryant reports as ordered," The large British man said in a heavy British accent, "I served with the British Army for four years before I came here. I currently have been in the American service for two years."

"Very well," Aubrey said, nodding, "Any specialties Sergeant Bryant?"

"I am a very apt drill sergeant and I'm extremely efficient," Bryant said, "I've also served three tours overseas and was in the main war zone for three months."

"Very good," Aubrey said, "Next!"

"Ma'am Staff Sergeant Jesse Swanson reports as ordered," the nondescript man said. "I have six years in the Army and have trained new recruits before."

"Very well," Aubrey said, "Have you ever been overseas?"

"No ma'am," Jesse said.

"Hmm," Aubrey hummed, rather disappointment with her less then experienced staff, "Next!"

"Ma'am Sergeant First Class Chloe Beale reports as ordered," The red head all but chirped, "I have ten years in the Army as a medic. I think medic would classify as my specialty. I also have my certs to train new medical personnel."

"Are you alright Beale?" Aubrey asked, raising her eyebrow at the enthusiastic red head.

"Yes ma'am," she said happily.

"Very well, Sergeant, have you ever been over seas?" Aubrey asked.

"Yes ma'am" Beale said, surprising Aubrey, "I served two tours in Afghanistan and one in Kuwait both times as the field medic."

"Excellent, Aubrey said, not sure if she should be happy, or concerned.

Turning to face her new staff, Aubrey sighed. She really had quite the mixed bag here right now. Fucking lovely. At least they all didn't seem to be best friends. They all seemed like they were thrown together. That was good. So now, she was facing a group of individuals rather then a group. She could work with that.

"At ease everyone," Aubrey said, "My name is First Lieutenant Aubrey Posen. I have served in the Army for 12 years and I have been on six over seas tours, all that were in major war zones. I've been the commanding officer for a number of different platoons and once for a company. Do any of you have any questions yet?"

Sergeant Bryant raised a paw, "Ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here then? With a career like that, why are you assigned to this?"

"Sergeant, I am here because we need more troops over seas," Aubrey said succinctly, "This company will be replacing the 28th infantry company, which recently has been absolutely decimated from enemy attacks. Does that answer you're question sergeant?"

"Yes ma'am" Bryant said.

"Excellent," Aubrey nodded, "Now, I will expect nothing but professionalism and excellence from all of you. I will hold all of you to the same standards that I hold myself to, and I will not tolerate insubordination. Now, before you think that because I am an officer, my expectations will be ridiculous, or that I do not know of the troubles of the enlisted, I also want you to know I worked my way from the bottom up here. I will never send any of you on a mission that I would not take myself, and I will always be open to suggestions from you. I want us all to be a team and get as many of these men back home. Any more questions?"

Master Sergeant Mitchell raised a paw, "Ma'am, do you know anything about what our deployment will be?"

"At the moment, no," Aubrey said, "I'm here, as Colonel Kendrick said, 'to supervise, to lead, and to get the new recruits into shape' My best guess would be either Iraq or Pakistan. We may be stationed in Egypt, or maybe somewhere else. Just know, we're going to replace an infantry company that got the shit kicked out of them, so base a guess off of that."

"Alright, sounds good LT," Mitchell smirked, "So what's our OotD?"

"As I'm sure you know, we have been tasked with training a bunch of raw recruits and getting them ready to be shot at. I will be addressing them first, however, I want to begin training ASAP. Bryant and Swanson, I'm entrusting you to get them ready. You will for all intents and purposes, be their drill sergeants," Aubrey said, "Mitchell, I want you to do basic over sight, make sure no one dies. Beale, you are the current on duty medic, so you're with Mitchell. Applebaum, I want you to go to the comm room and make sure you know every single button, ever wire in all of the technology we will be using. Any questions?"

"Ma'am?" Benjamin asked, raising a paw.

"Yes officer?" Aubrey asked.

"Exactly what am I suppose to be doing? I get the whole learn you're technology and all, but I've trained extensively with all the equipment thus far. I can completely disassemble and reassemble our radios, GPS, or most any other technology."

"Really?" Aubrey asked, skeptical.

"Yes ma'am" he said, pride evident.

"Very well, Applebaum, how did you do with basic?" Aubrey asked.

"I barely passed," He said, deflating.

"Very well, then I want you training with the new recruits" Aubrey said. Ho;ding her hand up, she effectively stopped whatever protest he had, "We will be going into a war zone officer. I do not want my comm guy to be shot and killed because he couldn't keep up. Applebaum, you're going out of the wire on this deployment, so I suggest you're at the top of your game before we leave. Remember, sweat more now, bleed less later. Alright?"

"Yes, ma'am" He said.

"Excellent," Aubrey smiled, "I look forward to a good run with you ladies and gentlemen. That is all."

Turning around, Beca called the room to attention while Aubrey left. Behind her, her new staff fell in behind her and followed her out of the room.


Glaring, Aubrey stood in front what would soon be her new company. Slowly walking back and forth, Aubrey watched as some men fidgeted and glanced about nervously. Did she scare them? Probably, but that was the point. New recruits irked Aubrey to no end. They were either too rude, or too jumpy. All of them were little shits. None of them knew shit, but most of them thought they knew everything. Sharply stopping, Aubrey executed a perfect right face and now stood directly in front of her men. Facing the mass of people before her, Aubrey began her speech.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen," Aubrey said, projecting her voice across the entire parade ground, "My name is First Lieutenant Aubrey Posen. I will be your Commanding Officer for the next four year. I can be you're friend, but you know what? I choose not to. In the first tour we go through, in the first six months of our deployment, at least ten of you will be dead. Everyone, you have permission to look around right now. I want you to look at the man or woman next to you. See them? In a year, that might be the person we send home in a body bag. It very well might be you who we send back. Eyes now. I am going to do my damnest to get most of you back home. I will not promise to get you all home because I know I can't. But I can at least try and prepare you, try and give you a better shot at getting back. Everything you think you know about the Army, forget it. You will do things my way. You all have a copy of the drill manual. That is going to be your new best friend. Learn it, live it, love it."

Pausing, Aubrey took a second to survey the faces before her. Most seemed a bit awestruck, some seemed bored, and others looked like they'd heard shit like this before and couldn't wait to get going. Perfect.

"Now, I expect you all to use you're chain of command." Aubrey said loudly, "Just because I am your CO, does not mean I care about all of your problems. I care about my men, but I do not have the time to deal with all of your little problems. For you're little shit, for your everyday problems, go to either Staff Sergeant Bryant or Staff sergeant Swanson. Those two are you're new drill commanders. Your soul now belongs to them, and I expect you to treat them as such. Now, if your problem is something major, sexual harassment, abuse from either of your sergeants, or anything else of that nature, you may come directly to me. However, I don't want to hear about you not liking morning PT or that you're uniform doesn't fit right. Talk to you're staff sergeants about that. Now, if you have a medical problem, if you need medical attention, you may go either to the base doctor, or to Sergeant First Class Beale over here. She will be your field medic and in charge of making sure all of you are healthy. Finally, this is Master Sergeant Mitchell. She is my Executive Officer, and the one you'll be seeing the most of. Her job is to make sure my orders are carried out. That's all you need to know for now, so I'm turning you all over to Staff Sergeant Bryant now."

"Ello mates!" Bryant said, in a overly cheery voice, "My name is Staff sergeant Bryant. I'm going to be your drill sergeant for the next twelve weeks. By the end of these lovely twelve weeks, all of you are going to hate me, all of you are going to ask yourself why you enlisted, and all of you are going to be Privates. AM I CLEAR?"

"YES SERGEANT!" Came the immediate reply.

"GOOD!" Bryant roared, "NOW GET YOUR ASSES MOVING! DOUBLE TIME HARCH! RUN YOU STUPID SHITS! LET'S GO!"

As Sergeant Bryant and Sergent Swanson lead the group off the parade ground, Aubrey sighed. She knew back in her office there already was a pile of paperwork waiting for her. That was going to suck, hard. On top of that, she had to make sure that no one died in basic. The Army didn't look very kindly on sergeants killing new recruits before they got sent to a war zone. As if the end result was even that different. What's the big difference between a dead body in Kuwait or in the US? Only the amount of paperwork Aubrey had to fill out.

Walking back to her office, Aubrey could hear Bryant and Swanson yelling in the distance. Glancing over her shoulder, Aubrey smirked. Already Bryant and Swanson had the recruits doing push ups. That was good. Mitchell was watching from the tower, and it looked like Beale was keeping a close eye on everything that was going on. Based on her stance, it looked like Sergent Beale was assessing the situation and making sure that no one was anout to keel over. Huh. Maybe no one would die today.

With a shrug, Aubrey turned around and began walking back to her office. Right now, she had to trust in her sergeants and trust her staff to make sure no one was dying. Shit like that wasn't her concern. At least, not yet.


So how was that mortals? I almost split this, but then I though, eh. I can just do a long chapter. So, yeah, I really like this plot, and I may or may not be sort of neglecting my other work. I promise I'm not going to stop, but right now, I'm really excited about this :) I just got back from talking to my recruiters and all, so yerp.

Tell me what you think though. Is this a piece of shit? I don't know, you tell me :)