The Purpose of Conflict: Chapter Two- The Sky above the Dardanelles II
04/08/1921/ 50 KM off the coast of Cape Town, National South Afrikan Republic (former Dominion of South Afrika) / 27th Albion Mechanised Mage Wing 05:39
Gabriel picked at the rosary beads he snuck into his glove. By retracting his fingers from the black leather on his right hand, he could feel the reassuring presence of the blessed item and tried to take his mind off his current situation. He had already checked his equipment before take-off, the Lewis gun in front of him was a pristine condition; the prayer beads were the only remaining distraction. Admittedly, it was a futile effort.
The continuous vibrations of the plane continuous were and the passing wind prevented any concentration on topics not related to the coming war.
Gabriel looked over his shoulder to the front of the plane. His pilot had a perfect distraction by the nature of his profession; it would be hard to think of death and danger while focused on the flight controls. Meanwhile, mages remained restricted to their silence for comfort in the final phase before the battle.
The pilot felt the extra pair of eyes on him and turned to peek. Gabriel met the blissful expression of his driver.
"Everything alright, sir?"
William had to shout for his partner to hear him. Gabriel nodded and asked the same. William thanked him but disputed any need for concern about himself. Gabriel turned back around to the rear of the biplane.
"At least I am the only one terrified."
Gabriel leaned forward, taking pressure off the mage equipment and rifle that dug into his back and temporarily relieved the mild discomfort it caused. He held onto the machinegun, a distraction that overshadowed the rosery but was less effective. He could sense his finger hover over the gun's safety as he looked down the sights. The iron click of it disengaging sent him jolting back. With this gun and many more, he would violate sacred decrees taught to him with the hidden rosery.
The holstered revolver pushing into Gabriel's abdomen as he leaned forward, enhanced the concept of murder in his mind, the only image that could distract from the wind and rumbling engines.
He had a duty as a Prince to his country and the enslaved peoples of the world to fight. He had magical abilities; he had to use his gifts for their just cause.
The rhetoric of a Just War and duty did little to ease his mind.
Gabriel leaned forward more, his hand no longer struggling with the beads. Scripture taught that shall not murder, but to kill could be justified. Their enemy today were traitors to the Commonwealth, their lives were already forfeit. Yet, it was still a human life he had to take. Every member of their unit had been trained and equipped with the best technology in the Commonwealth. Undoubtedly, they were some of the best mages in the world. Yet, the heavy feeling that built up in his legs continued, and the overwhelming sense of fear continued to fill each breath he struggled to take.
Gabriel forced his eyes closed, almost collapsing onto the gun, managing to keep some stability in his figure. The familiar burning sensation from training crept up the back of his throat. Each time it was swallowed, merely delaying its continuous climb. He could not throw up now, not on his first mission. He opened an eye to his surroundings only for it to be blocked out by condensation.
Gabriel swore at himself, straightening up slightly to get better access to his mask.
The mages were not required to wear the oxygen mask until they were in flight at high altitudes to save mana on respiration formulas. Some preferred to wear the masks from take-off and turned the valve on the cylinders when it was time to fly. Gabriel, in his self-assessed stupidity, put it on wrong and fogged up his goggles with the heavy breathing.
Still hunched over, Gabriel tried to refashion the device with the only result being the mounting pressure placed upon his face. Here he was, surrounded by the most talented men and women the Commonwealth had to offer. But the task of correctly wearing a mask was too challenging for him.
If they could see him, the Flight Wing, the public, his family: a Prince born with abilities gifted by genetics and God, the supposed descendent of Kings and Queens that built the Commonwealth and the world. Struggling at the mere thought of violence and barely able to dress himself or touch a gun.
Gabriel finally managed to free himself, now able to breath cold air to try and soothe his throat. His glove wiped away the thin layer of sweat that built upon his face as his goggles slowly returned to transparent. The mask violently fluttered from the other half of his helmet. It took every ounce of will and training to leave it be and dispose of it over the side of the aircraft.
As much as he wanted to pretend this was not happening, that it was all a dream, this was an inescapable reality.
He lifted his goggles to grip at the tears building up in the corners of his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose as the heat continued to claw up his throat. The harder he grabbed at himself, the more in vain it became.
He thought how he was still a kid, why was he here? Thousands of meters in the air with a gun strapped to his front and back. He would inevitably become a disappoint his family, it should be somewhere that would not bring harm the Commonwealth any further than it was.
Gabriel started whispering to himself, inaudible because of the wind but able to echo inside his skull. His hands clung to the side of the flying cage.
He was interrupted from his lose string of madness by a warm vibration on his chest, just above his left breast. His hand went to the source unconsciously, realizing it was his operation orb, the beloved Pocket Watch 1919 Model. The metal disk vibrated strongly under his tunic, humming from a communication formula. Instinctively, he pushed mana through his hands and into the orb, feeling the heat from the mana activating the spell.
"Hey, Gabriel."
It was the familiar commanding yet concerned voice of Peggie, another mage that managed to come back to provoke him. She continued over the wind.
"Portside."
Gabriel cautiously looked to the planes left, his right. Next to them in the formation was an identical plane, in its rear seat the mage speaking through the power of magic. The distance could not hide her smile poking out from under her steel helmet. She raised her hand to provide a thumbs up.
Why Gabriel could not have the same enthusiasm or an equally powerful mask to mimic the emotion, he knew to be a result of his inadequacy. They were both about to experience first-hand combat for the first time, yet she had the outward confidence of the most veteran members. Gabriel temporarily regained control of his motor functions to match her thumb. His presentation would be irrelevant; the Second Lieutenant knew how the Prince thought more than he did. She continued speaking without waiting for a further response.
"Could you tell me about that passage you mentioned the other day on the Vespasian?"
Gabriel wiped his face again, unable to hide his frustration at her if he wanted to, as with Peggie, he rarely did. She could likely tell he was more occupied with the war than wanting to revisit debates held back at the aircraft carrier.
"What?"
"The same passage we talked about yesterday. Tell me again."
Gabriel scoffed, he remembered the event and consequential debate after she barged into his quarters with gin some she smuggled aboard.
"You want to talk about this now? What's gotten into you?" His voice began to waver at longer sentences, each stressed word bringing the bile higher. Peggie was more interested in her request than Gabriel's question.
"Just it to tell me again. I know you memorized it."
Gabriel went back to clutching the plane. He sealed his eyes again, once again wishing he could block out the winds around him and the fluttering oxygen mask.
He sent more mana into his orb for the connection as he started, privately wondering why he always listened to her in the end.
"To everything, there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?"
The quiver in his throat and mouth slowly faded as he spoke. The cold air he breathed in kept the acid in his throat stationary, allowing him to continue without the threat of vomit poisoning the gospel. He straightened up without realizing anything other than the phantom pressure active on his chest. Pausing momentarily before the end.
"I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it."
There was truth in these words, even if Gabriel failed to remember it. Despite the cruelty of their task, their cause was righteous, and the war was just. Gabriel knew his actions were far more than the safety of the men and women around him or the survival of the Commonwealth. It was starting to convince Gabriel of this as he continued further into Ecclesiastes.
"For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast: for all is vanity.
All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.
Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?
Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?"
Gabriel expected to hear a snarky comment from Peggie emit from his orb. Instead, it was the voice of the Wing's Commander, Major Hanover. Startling Gabriel into another panic.
"Wise words Lieutenant, thank you."
A rush of voices simultaneously gave compliments to him, including a pat on the back from William reaching behind him.
Gabriel knew he did not open the formula to all channels; there was little doubt in his mind who was the culprit.
Peggie gave her piece at the end of the mass of mages and pilots. "Not a bad speech for a Rupert."
Gabriel laughed, continuing the charade of his competence for a moment longer.
"Quiet, heathen."
A mixture of more mild laughter went over the airwaves; she saw the humour in the insult and knew it was equivalent to a formal thanks. Major Hanover cut in as the laughter died back down.
"Alright, enough chatter. Call in."
After his Albion accent finished, an Aquionian accent filling in its place, this time over the plane's radio system and not the pocket watches. Gabriel cut off the mana to his orb, his hands steady enough to catch and reattach his oxygen mask without difficulty.
"Wendy-One. Full nest: ready."
"Wendy-Two. Full nest: ready."
"Wendy-Three. Full nest: ready."
Gabriel pulled the straps down to tighten the mask and pulled down his goggles. A hard breath confirmed the airflow was unobstructed and he was safe to fly. No clouds covered his lenses this time, only the natural formations that surrounded the Wing. William spoke into the radio as their turn for role call came.
"Wendy-Seven. Full nest: ready!"
William always took a positive approach to the call, stating their planes number, full nest to indicate the mage was on board and their involuntary status. Unlike the Prince he escorted through the sky, he was ready for war.
The callout continued without incident, the only noticeable exception of Wendy Twelve, signalling Peggie's plane and the end planes Gabriel commanded. It concluded at twenty-four before silence overcame the wing.
Minutes passed, and the burning in Gabriel's throat still lingered but refused to rise higher. Below their aircraft, Gabriel could see civilian fishing boats when he peaked down. The vessels heading out meant they were closer to the shore and the first battle of the war. The wait was finally over, a plan over a decade in the making.
With Arabian insurgents causing havoc for the Magna Rumeli, they could kick off the invasion into Afrika with less resistance. That would require air superiority first. But with the 27th fighting for the Commonwealth, it was assured.
"Incoming aircraft, twelve o'clock."
"Looks like it's only a handful." Two pilots reported over the radio. The Major responded with an order. "Shields up. God be with you."
As trained, a formula materialized in front of the biplane. It was not a perfect solution to enemy fire but was near close to it. When combined with the planes speed and mobility, it meant any hits to the shield would regenerate by the time the enemy had a second shot. When combined with a mage flying alongside his plane, the offensive capabilities of magic spells could deter any opponent.
In a bid to fill the silence, Gabriel yelled out to his pilot again. "Good luck William."
Privately, he put more mana through the Model 1919 to say the same thing to Peggie. His squadron already had received their encouragement from the Major, the call to that girl was a personal matter.
William put a thumbs up, seconds later shooting the first rounds of the war.
Gabriel knew not to look over his shoulder, already feeling the oncoming stray shots bound off his shield. William ordered out the target as it grew closer to pass by them. "Nine o'clock high, he's hit."
It was a reflex that drew Gabriel's fire. A white biplane leaving a trail of smoke appeared on Gabriel's right and presented itself as a target. The rosary in his glove rattled at the vibration but could not distract its owner. The bullets were not enhanced but were equally as deadly, several finding their mark in the enemy before a small explosion set the cockpit alight. The enemy was too far to see the details of their demise. The threat, however, was eliminated. It was enough for Gabriel to smirk at the results; the aircraft was proving its capabilities without flaw.
His aircraft was already twisting in the air with the formation in battle. He lacked time to dwell on it as his first kill left his mind as a potential for the next one entered. He was preoccupied with rotating the shield between the Godless enemy and his plane and pilot.
Another enemy came into position on the aircraft's tail, Gabriel acted without hesitation. The shield stopped each bullet fired at them and sent harmlessly down to the ocean as metal shards. The futility of the strike against them was humourous. The humming of plane engines got cut off by the blasting of the machinegun, nearly every shot ripping through the plane as punishment for trying to tail them. The plane went down before taking enough damage, meaning Gabriel had shot through the pilot and made his vehicle turn limp. He made a note to remember the angel for more future reference.
Gabriel saw his success repeated across the Wing. Several other Commonwealth planes dominated their prey and sent them down to the ocean below. He failed to identify Peggie or Major Hanover, no reports of casualties emitting from the cockpit meaning they were still active.
The distant city became visible as the fighting went on, and they gradually flew closer to the shore. Gabriel could imagine that the people below were glad and they had a cause to celebrate. Their liberation was underway, one dogfight at a time. He refrained from indulging in fantasies for long, while William was having all the fun at the moment, but he still needed to avoid slacking off.
Gabriel saw another white plane pass by in the improved form of a ball of burning fabric and metal when the Major chimed in once again.
"Another wave of fighters coming in. Squadron Two, lets mop these up. Stuart, get ready to push em!"
That was his cue. The fire had disappeared in his throat, now replaced by one in his abdomen that begged for more adrenaline to fuel the inferno.
He sent a fresh wave of mana to activate his mage gear. The cathartic noise of his boots humming was barely audible over the engines. Flicking the Lewis gun's safety back on he got ready to jump.
William directed the plane towards to new competition, joined by the other eleven planes. Gabriel's foot found the handle on the outer shell of the aircraft while his hands brought up the rifle.
"Squadron One, get ready to jump on me." He took another shaken breath and stepped onto the side of the plane. He held onto the handgrip while his feet reluctantly stayed in place on the lower step. He could feel the weakness in legs pulling him down, involuntary shaking from a source of his weakness.
The others around him did the same, white dots in the distance steadily growing closer to their destruction. Possibly for the last time, Gabriel made contact with his necklace, a more stressful task while trying to hold a rifle under his arm pressed against his chest. Spending another second to pull out and kissed the jewellery before hiding it back under his collar; a reminder of why he was out here.
More mana turned the humming into a growl. There was still a decaying sensation to his body. The adrenaline had yet to bring energy back into his entire body, nulled by the events around him.
Gabriel just focused on what was in front of them. White dots to destroy, lands to conquer beyond and a population to bring back into the Commonwealth.
Gabriel turned the valve of the oxygen canister on his belt, feeling a small trickle of compressed gas filled his lungs. He had jumped from planes before, but this was the first combat jump of countless more to come.
The first time he would experience what was supposed to be an alternative to hell.
He let go of the grip, falling briefly then propelled forward by the equipment, spearheading the mages towards the oncoming enemy. Shouting the first worthy idea that could be mustered, taking undoubtedly inspiration from the gifted jewellery.
"For the Queen!"
09/05/1923/ Dardanelles, Turkish Magna Rumeli / Rear Imperial Artillery Control Post 09:12
Tanya's empty canteen rattled on the ground next to her. Another faint sound that was lost among the idle chatter and commotion that came from the depot. The atmosphere of the camp was surprisingly relaxed, despite the circumstances. Tanya was a prisoner of war but benefited from this status.
The Lieutenant was speaking the truth earlier as none of the Empire's men were harmed beyond a brief scare. They had regrouped with the other half of the mages after uncontested flying, their planes away doing their mission not detailed to Tanya. As ordered, she stayed next to Gabriel during the flight and his brief discussion with the Wing's Commander.
The same man formally persuaded and accepted her fellow soldiers into surrender. Already disarmed and her self-imposed protector called away to his superior's side, she was free to wander the base.
Officially, she was being held as prisoners under guard by the mages until the infantry arrived and could relieve them. In practice, both sides used the opportunity to take a break and socialize. For the mages, an additional chance to rest before being sent back out for the war effort. The Albions were the only ones armed but showed no desire to use their advantage, preferring to mingle with each other, clean equipment or unsurprisingly make tea. Those that spoke the language of the other country tried to engage in conversation with them, but most stayed confined to their established circle of friends.
As for herself, Tanya ensured her career was saved for the moment by approaching her superior, Lieutenant Schwarzkopf, and giving the best version of events. Schwarzkopf ensured her safety from persecution, applauding her for diligence in the face of the enemy and staying in position.
She would still need to complete her deployment training, but that meant she would be sent to territory within the Empire. Possibly along the Rhine river or Norden in the far north, if she was not on the dangerous end of a gun barrel.
For now, she was content to write her report alone with her back against the wheel of a howitzer.
She would have tried to pursue Schwarzkopf further, but he had been cornered by the Albion Commander and Lieutenant Stuart. They had taken up residence inside of the map tent and persuaded him and other officers to assist in the next stage of the invasion. She watched them from a distance to see if the temporary guards continued to act with benevolence. While tensions lingered, the Commander did the brunt of the polite talking as Gabriel eyed the Germanic men around him or down at the map. A poor intimidation tactic as his sharp gaze never lingered on one man long enough to have an effect. The only Imperial that offered resistance was the Volunteer Commander, a final effort to save whatever remained of his career, citing besmirched honour among other excuses.
Tanya failed to understand his positioning. Gabriel was young but was already the apparent second in command to the new elite Commonwealth unit of which she was a prisoner of war. It was either he displayed a unique cunning to delegate the formalities to another party, or a mark of inexperience to not know what to say. Perhaps what she saw in the tent was a mixture of both.
"It's rude to stare, you know."
Tanya jumped at the familiar monotone voice materializing on the end of the gun. She looked up from her notes to see the Lieutenant standing next to her with two metal cups in his hand.
He walked over and handed her one of the cups down to her, repeating his point. Tanya could smell it was regrettably tea, but the warmth sinking into her hands was welcomed. She had a policy to reserve trust for those who partook in the horrid liquid. However, that did not dissuade her from using a tea drinker for her own benefit.
"Your CO tells me you're almost done officers training. I've always maintained we should be trained in manners along with strategy."
Tanya was unsure if he had a genuine grievance with her because of the stagnant tone.
"You saw me earlier?" She did not stay for long but rarely saw the Lieutenant raise his head away from the maps on the table.
"Children on military bases tend to stick out."
He sat on the ground next to her. Blowing on his tea and looking in front of him at another howitzer in a bid to avoid eye contact. He had forgone most of his equipment, revealing short clipped black hair that was hidden by his brodie helmet. Tanya resented being classified as a child. She was young in this incarnation, but the Salaryman was double the age of this Albion. Perhaps this was an attempt of criticism, a note to keep her interests to herself while she was still a lowly cadet.
"Good flying out there today." Gabriel peaked down at Tanya, a shadow of a smile flashing before its disappearance. "I must admit I am impressed you were able to keep up with us."
Tanya thanked him; she had no shame in admitting it was a struggle at first to match their speed. The Empire was at the forefront of mage equipment, yet the Commonwealth seemed to find a way to outpace their old rival at the cost of a less refined model. She motioned to the steel boots that ran up to his knees, wires leading up to a small backpack Gabriel still wore.
"I won't deny you have impressive equipment. If it was more manoeuvrable you might have a chance against the Empire."
He shifted the boots at their mention, raising one up and allowing Tanya to see rubber soles and exhaust vents on the bottom of the bulky gear.
"I won't deny that." He took a sip from his tea, shifting slightly as the topic shifted.
"We needed to reinvent the design after the Commonwealth nearly collapsed."
Tanya knew the Commonwealth had endured decades of turmoil before she was born into this world. The gradual loss of territory that accumulated in a revolution that displaced the Albion government and Royal family to their North American Dominion of Aquilona. The subsequent power vacuum leading to new titans in their place that sought to wage war against the Empire. It seemed appropriate for Being X to banish her to a world stranded on a knifes edge.
Tanya drank some of her tea. It left a bitter taste, even by the standards of field preparations. Her displeasure was evident and amusing to the Lieutenant, his tiny smile returning for a second. If she pressed him while he remained in a positive mood, she might extract some valuable information from him.
"That is why you're here then, to take back Rumeli Afrika for the Commonwealth?"
"And to liberate Abyssinia. The Rumeli sided with the Akitsushima Dominion back when we were fighting in Daqin and at the time we thought we would never recover. Now, we managed to bring South Afrika back into the Commonwealth, twenty years ago no one would have believed it."
Gabriel spoke distantly, seemingly more surprised with the accomplishments he had participated in himself.
Tanya thought it was an elaborate way to describe an occupation but knew better than to antagonise her new patriotic friend. It was a large mass of land to travel and soldiers to dislodge regardless of her personal animosities. The war would inevitably prove itself to be a waste of resources, but it remains a testament of Commonwealth skill to fix the mistakes they were at fault for manufacturing.
"I'm impressed. Obviously, your unit has remarkable skill behind it considering the successes on the Southern Continent."
"Thank you." Gabriel took another drink from his cup, ignorant or uncaring to the liquids lack of quality. Tanya pushed forward asking about the different patterns on the planes she saw. If she asked directly for classified information she would be refused, but sometimes the best way to a destination was an indirect path.
She was just a child on a military base, what effect could she have?
"I can't tell you much, other than we are possibly the best the Commonwealth has to offer." He looked down to Tanya and her barely touched tea. "You're smart enough to figure it out Degurechaff."
Once again, he was right. The Albion segment of the Commonwealth of both her worlds were prideful of their navy. Even as a fledgeling power they had one of the most powerful armadas that was the equal to any power in Europa. If Gabriel wished to imply that all nations had input, it could allude to pilots and mages rather than sailors and steel.
That would explain the unique insignias on each plane. If her memory of past history lessons from the nuns was correct, that would include Aquilonia and the Caribbean in the Americas, New Cambria in Oceania and a portion of Northern Bharat that remained loyal to the Empire; coupled with the scarce forces loyal to the exiled governments of old allies, it was a bleak shadow of its old self.
If a hybrid group of mages and biplanes was the best unit to become the tip of the spear, then this Lieutenant was more important and talented than she initially presumed. If he was willing to look after her with tea and conversation, she might have found a potential ally.
"I'm sure your Queen is proud of you Lieutenant Stuart."
She raised her cup to praise him. Gabriel shifted again at her compliment, uneasily rubbing his hands through his hair. Apparently, flattery was not the way to subdue this creature.
"I hope so." He nearly whispered the words.
His free hand went to his neck, locating and holding onto the ornament in the same manner he did on the beach. This time he undid the button of the collar that crept up his neck and pulled the metal chain taut. The centerpiece appeared to be a wood carved cross trapped between Gabriel's thumb and forefinger. Tanya would not admit to it, but the chain and trinket appeared cheaper than the tea she had been served. If the Papist wanted to put stock in his ugly good luck charm, she would not challenge him; especially if she wanted to keep her business connection active.
"From Afrika to Asia-Minor, that's an impressive accomplishment for any soldier, more so for your age." She would try attempt for sweet talk.
"Perhaps." He went to the contents of his cup again. "All that at sixteen, maybe we'll finish this war by the time I'm twenty."
Tanya smiled for him, she might be able to use him to her benefit, find out what allowed him to rise this high in the ranks and see if she could use it herself.
"Right, now your turn." He took another drink to finish his appalling tea. "What's your story Degurechaff?"
Tanya engaged with his request, joining in the tradition of strangers swapping stories with a poor substitute to alcohol. She told the short events of this life and her decision to join the army out of duty and necessity. Taking the position of no other path rather than attempting to get secure a safe officer position to spite a deity. The best way to close a deal was not to scare away a potential investor.
Their impromptu networking was concluded by outside forces. While unfortunate, she was grateful to establish her position and potential value to the Lieutenant. What was regrettable was seeing the same amber skinned mage that silently threatened to shoot her was the one to collect her superior. Her presence at the same end of the gun announced with her whistling for attention.
They both turned from their private discussion to see the older woman holding extra gear for the Lieutenant. Gabriel excused himself before switching to his language back to Albion.
"The infantry is here I assume."
"Only a few minutes out, then these guys aren't our problem anymore."
Gabriel quickly redid his collar, hiding his ugly cross back out of sight. Tanya could have predicted they were bound by some form of friendship but disapproved of their casual nature. It was counterproductive for assuring one's self as an authority figure only to simultaneously diminish it through informal conversation.
"Hanover got word from the fleet. The Rumeli pulled out of Hellas completely." She outstretched her hand to accept Gabriel's, pulling him to his feet when he took hold of her. "We can take out the last of their air force in the north if we pull this off."
"It's just their forces in Mesopotamia then." Gabriel took his helmet from her and started gathering up his remaining items from her arms. Exchanging further questions on military matters. The woman taking the optimistic approach that had doomed many more before her upon the battlefield.
"We've got them on the run Gabriel, it won't take much longer."
He acted with rationale rather than emotions, checking the chamber of his rifle by pulling the bolt back. "We're not in Constantinople yet, don't think we're out of the woods yet."
When he was equipped once again Gabriel ordered his ally to remove her helmet, revealing shinning black hair the texture of silk fall down her face in a failed bun. He acted swiftly and without explanation, Tanya assumed she was witnessing a common activity done by the pair of disorderly Officers. Confirmed by Gabriel commenting on how her attempts at cosmetology always resulted in failure and the woman retorting that he was a poor teacher.
"You can barely keep your buttons done together or your clothes on and you want to talk down to me about appearance." Gabriel scoffed, affixing the black hair into a tight not that hid the immense mass of hair this woman had attached to her scalp. As punishment for his comment, the Mage half heartedly elbowed him and playfully swore. Her possession of the confidence to risk an assault charge was not unsurprising.
If it were her underling trying to punch her, even as a joke, their head would be on the ground before their rear end. Not encouraged with more laughter after an exclusive pampering.
Tanya stood up while they bickered, debating if she should hide what remained of her tea. Gabriel held out his and shook Tanya's with another shallow smile. A firm handshake was her silent signal that she had made an ally among her potential enemy.
"I apologise for having to cut our discussion short. Good luck with your studies Miss Degurechaff." He saluted her once again, the woman following the example of her superior for the first time in Tanya's view. "May God be with you and your Emperor."
The pair walked away and out of ear shot. Once confident in her privacy Tanya allowed herself to groan at that dastardly creature that continued to encroach in on her life. In frustration, she threw away the tea and kicked her abandoned canteen away from her while cursing Being X until she was satisfied with her commitment. Another minute passed until the sound of louder Albion shouts could be heard, followed by the sight and sound of biplanes passing over the camp. She followed the figures to see the mages all ascending into the sky to catch their ride, all twenty-four she had identified on her Observation Formula hours ago.
Among them was her possible ticket into the rear. If the Albion Government and its Queen was sincere with their desire for peace, then having a distant acquaintance could only benefit her. Once she figured out what factor allowed him to reach First Lieutenant at his age, she might have the option to break his record.
First, she would need to complete her training. Despite the mild setbacks of today, she had been given a new opportunity to do the same drills in safely on her own territory. She hoped Being X was watching, so he could see her thriving despite the inherent violence of this world.
She could have her safe position overlooking maps in the capital soon, possibly with some cunning foreign influence.
A/N:
This one is a little bit shorter than the first one but fret not, that won't be the standard going forth.
Thank you for reading, feedback, reviews and criticism are always welcome.