By the morning of the thirtieth of March, the former members of Squad E of the Edinburgh Army had been escorted to a set of tents that would hold them for a time until Welkin and Eleanor felt that they could trust them. For his part, Claude didn't know whether to thank or curse them for putting him in the same tent as Riley and no one else. At the moment, with her back to him, he was more inclined to the latter.

In another tent, Raz had no such inhibitions, he was mentally cursing the Gallians for sticking him in a tent with Leena and Miles. Since they were back in Gallia and fighting the Federation, she had seen no reason to keep up the pretence that she was her brother.

Elsewhere in the camp, Princess Cordelia, Welkin and Eleanor were discussing their next move. "I am not quite sold on the matter, Highness," Eleanor remarked. "It is one thing to raid a target. Yet another to attempt to take and hold it. I feel as though we would just be painting a very large, very obvious target on our backs."

Cordelia could not be dissuaded. "We need international support and recognition if we wish to ease the suffering of our countrymen and liberate them. Raids will not get us that, but if we capture territory we prove that neither the Empire nor the Federation can keep us down. Besides, Gilbert will be enraged and an enraged ruler is more dangerous to his subjects than to the enemy. This could be the spark we need to destroy Federation influence in Gallia and start undermining Imperial influence."

As Cordelia and Eleanor went back and forward on the mission, Welkin kept his own counsel on the matter. He thought the idea was solid, if in need of some polish to keep everyone alive by the end of it. Faldio approaching and slipping him a piece of paper interrupted his thoughts. "Looks like Squad E was truthful," he whispered. "We intercepted these reports to and from Federation High Command. They make for interesting reading."

Welkin raised an eyebrow and began reading, his eyes bulging out by the time he finished. "Do we have anything on the Imperial side of things?" he asked.

Faldio cocked his head to the side. "Yes and no," he replied finally. "I'm getting a lot more information from the Empire than I used to, but nothing about this sort of thing."

The women noticed their conversation and Cordelia asked. "What sort of thing?"

Welkin handed Eleanor the sheet of paper. "Federation High Command has apparently lost at least forty percent of their military. And only a quarter of that figure is due to combat losses."

Cordelia gawked at Welkin before slowly regaining her composure. "Well…" she breathed, "Even if they all just go home and never raise arms, that's still a significant number of people who just went AWOL."

Eleanor sighed. "Well… let's interview Squad E before we make any further decisions."

Welkin agreed and he got Alicia, Isara, Largo and Rosie to join himself, Faldio, and Eleanor in interviewing the former Federation soldiers. Isara entered the tent that Raz, Leena, and Miles were in and paused, "Why do you wish to fight?" she asked.

It was a simple question, but its simplicity caused confusion nonetheless. When a minute passed with not a peep, Isara pressed on. "Miles Arbeck. Accomplished Tank Driver, noted for compatibility with the command style of Claude Wallace and mechanical ability and experimentation, grew up in Namur until the Empire raided your hometown, killing your mother and father, wherein you joined the Federal Army," she said, sitting on a chair. Ignoring the stunned and pained looks of the three, she continued: "By all accounts, you are a loyal Federation citizen with deep-rooted hatred towards the Empire being perfectly justifiable. So why turn on your government? A government that has done you no wrong."

Miles was looking down at his hands by the time that Isara had finished. She was right in many ways, and he knew that his reason for abandoning the Federation would sound flimsy at best. "I have seen, in my time in the Army, things that made me question if, in the fight between the Empire and the Federation, there was no "good" side."

Isara frowned. "War is not clean." she countered.

Miles winced. "War should not necessitate the creation of such barbaric weapons that have no purpose other than to draw out suffering."

Isara held a look on Miles before calling out: "Susie?" causing a soldier to enter the tent. "Please take these two away for a moment, I will send for one of them after I finish with Mister Arbeck."

Susie nodded and drew them along, leaving Isara and Miles alone. Isara wasted no time. "Tell me of the weapons and any potential counters we can implement."

Miles frowned. "I am unsure of what they will have." he mused before shaking his head. "The hour before we left, I burned all records I found regarding these weapons," he replied before grabbing a sheet of paper and pencil. "I'll do my best to transcribe what I remember though."

Isara waited as Miles wrote down everything he could, taking the sheet of paper when he finished. She glanced at it and was horrified at the prospects. Endeavouring to bring it to Welkin's attention as soon as possible, she looked at him. "What would your assessment of the other two you shared this tent with me?"

Miles grimaced. "The Sergeant-Major is a crack shot, the best sniper in our section. The Federation is going to be hurting without her," he said before sighing. "Sergeant Raz though? He can be, and often is, hotheaded, impulsive and impossible to contain when his bloodlust is up."

Isara hummed as she took notes then stood up. "Thank you Mister Arbeck," she remarked. "Someone will take you to your new "garage" where you'll find some of our weapons. There are, however, two conditions," she said, drawing a nod from Miles. "Firstly: Until you have spent some time amongst us, someone will always be observing you when you are near our equipment. We do have a limited supply after all and everything is mission-critical."

Miles nodded, he had expected as much. "And the second?" he asked.

Isara turned her head to look him directly in the eye. "If you touch Edelweiss, I will bury you and no one will know," she said coldly.

Miles blinked as she left the tent, silent yet graceful. If it wasn't for her cold tone, he'd of sworn that she had said "marry you". He didn't know what he felt as he was escorted to a different part of the camp, but he knew he hoped to see that woman again.

Elsewhere in the camp, Welkin rubbed his brow. The tension in the tent was thick enough to be used as armour for large ships and neither Claude nor Riley were making his life any easier. "Right, let's try this again." he finally said. "You both, independent of each other, decided to defect to Gallia after the occupation began and only met up because Miss Miller's group took a brief pause. Where-after your commands overruled both of you and decided to travel together instead of separately. Am I correct so far?"

When Riley made to comment, Welkin raised his hand. "I care not who decided first to defect, just that the decision was made. Is the timeline thus far correct?" he interrupted.

Claude nodded and, reluctantly, so did Riley. Welkin sighed in relief. "Finally! Some progress!" he thought. Folding his hands in front of him, Welkin peered at them curiously before shutting his eyes. "I will run my analyse by the higher-ups, but if we do bring you both in, you will not be taking part in combat operations until you sort out your issues with one another," he revealed, holding up a hand when they protested. "We cannot afford to have you on the field of battle when there is this tension between you. So: sort it out, or stay behind. Your choice."

With that, Welkin left the tent and joined Alicia and Isara at the mess tent. Alicia watched as Welkin slid into the chair next to her and lowered his head to the table. "You alright Welkin?" she asked.

Welkin groaned. "I need a drink," he murmured before lifting his head. "Claude and Riley have several personal issues to work out before they go onto the battlefield. If we take them."

Isara hummed and slid her brother a plate of food. "How bad?" she asked.

Welkin sighed before starting to cut into his food. "Either they went through some bad breakup a while ago, or there is some trauma there that they endured and one or both blame the other for."

Isara groaned. "Urgh. Why do you make it sound as if both of those would be the correct answer?"

Welkin shut his eyes as he chewed. "Isara… I hope not…" he sighed. "Otherwise I pity the guards who have to stand outside their tent."

Alicia raised an eyebrow. "For the shouting? Or for the sounds of sex?"

"Both." Welkin groaned. "Speaking of which…" he muttered. "Where's Faldio? Or is he with Audrey?"

Alicia grimaced, "Last I saw, he was heading that way." she mentioned.

Welkin sighed. He really didn't think that he could deal with his friend's antics at that moment so wisely just continued eating.

That evening, Eleanor, Welkin, Faldio and Cordelia met up to discuss what had been uncovered in the questionings. To say that some of the reports made for disturbing reading would have been an understatement, yet at the same time, there was hope in them as well. Vinland had been leading the international condemnation of the invasions and their rhetoric had been becoming more hostile in the recent days. Cordelia hoped that one good win would push them over into active assistance. She would soon discover how much better things were for them.

A man stood on the main deck of a ship. "Captain?" he asked an officer nearby. "About how long until we are in a position to launch the mission?"

The Captain rubbed his chin. "Well, stealth holding and favourable seas, probably three days Ambassador," he replied before looking at him. "Is the Long-Range Transmitter and Encoder working?"

The Ambassador nodded. "Like a charm. With luck, neither side will even know we are there."

The Captain nodded before peering across the flotilla that accompanied them. "Do you really think the Gallians will accept our help?"

The Ambassador snorted. "They'd be fools not to, besides, all the isolationists are on one side or the other. Not in the Resistance."

The Captain hummed and resumed his watch. The Ambassador looked over at the craft that would carry him and two dozen volunteers to Gallian soil, from there, they would have to find the Resistance themselves, but somehow, he didn't think it would be difficult. The Empire and Federation alike were being quite vocal about "terrorists" and he doubted they would if it was a small movement.

The Ambassador smirked and a phrase in an old language he had read about once came to mind: "Wałċk Gålå" he murmured.