The Purpose of Conflict

by Vickers-Vimy-1919

Forced into war, the Empire fights enemies on all sides. Their only ally in the time of crisis, the exiled Kingdom of Albion, seeking strength to restore the crumbling Commonwealth and return to the Home Isles. For Tanya, she finds an ally in the exiled Prince Gabriel. Unsure of his or the Commonwealth's true intentions for the war, the Empire, or herself.

8. Ch 8: The Fourth Dacian War III

The Purpose of Conflict: Chapter Eight- The Fourth Dacian War III

09/10/1924/ Northern Transylvania, Principality of Dacia / First Forward Based Imperial Airfield / 19:19

The longer she held the position as a leader, the more Tanya found reason to become infuriated with her subordinates. The Adjutant in question rapidly followed behind her through the base offering a little credible excuse for her absence of reasoning. She had arrived at this poor excuse of an airfield just over an hour ago with her half of the battalion. Only to find her favourite half-blooded Imperial was here instead of flying above the Carpathian Mountains. What made the reunion more bitter than what would be expected was the personal treason partaken by the half-breed.

"The moment you landed you should have radioed me that you had a prisoner for interrogation. Were you ever going to tell your commanding officer or was it just because I happened to pass through?"

"No ma'am. I'm sorry ma'am." Visha was not excusing her lack of behaviour and accepting responsibility, if in the manner of a beaten dog. There was hope for her yet. Akin to a shock collar on an ill-trained mutt: eventually it will stop making mistakes to prevent punishment, not because it seems to understand what it is doing wrong.

She allowed her adjutant to take the lead through the base; lingering behind to inscribe another lecture onto her back. It was necessary for the moment as only Visha knew what tin can room they were storing the Dacian in.

Tanya was not opposed to getting second-hand sources. But with a high valued prisoner giving out everything over a simple cup of tea, it was imperative that she hears everything from the source. If not for the credibility of her career then for the Empire to stand toe to toe against the Invicta Pact; they were quickly getting too confident for her comfort and equally as meddlesome.

She could have Second Lieutenant Serebryakov fill her in on the exact details in private or read her report. To the girl's credit, she spent her time not contacting the battalion to complete her account of events. But to have your lacky do work on your behalf only carried prestige if you directed them to do it. Under present circumstances it made her look incompetent or lacking control, neither was true and so, was detrimental to her image.

The hanger, then hallway in question was found, continuing past more of those multi-coloured monstrosities she first saw at the Dardanelles. Visha directed her to the door where the prisoner was supposed to be housed. It took many hours to coax him into spilling the information so she could get her own summary in a fifth of that time. This world had yet to formalize a universal rule for prisoners of war and if she needed to wield empty threats to hurry along the process she would not lose sleep over it.

Tanya pushed open the door and stepped inside. Visha caught the same glance she did and promptly pulled her superior out by the collar and sealed the door once again. The image of a man's bareback in the prisoner's former chair and a girl's naked front seared onto her pupils.

Tanya did not need to call upon the memories of the Salaryman or Visha's explanation to answer the question, the demonstration of lust by the princes' troublesome accomplice was enough. Even if possessing an adult's mind and a stolen peek into the act, Tanya found embarrassment and heat radiating from her face. Being X had done it, for the first time in this lifetime, Tanya was pleased she could be seen as a child to excuse herself.

Visha was yelling at the pair to cease their activity and come out. The duo held hostage in the enclosed room had no other choice but to comply. Her Adjutant could act as the fiery orator this time, she had no love for this form of frustration. Much less the risks it contained.

Lieutenant Pierre excited the room first, her minimal clothing shaped onto her in no order or style. Her pants and corset visibly evident in the bundle of clothes she held; much to her and Visha's discomfort, if for different sources. The Aquilonain tried to initiate small talk over her head with Visha. A repeating offence it would seem, under the same circumstances of interrupted intercourse no less.

"Long time to see Serebryakov."

"Has it?" Tanya was uncertain if Visha's allusive response was motivated by her commanding officer's presence. It would take more than pleasantries to win over her Adjutant this time. Still picking at the ball of clothes she reclaimed from the floor Pierre tried further chats. Skirting around the subject resulted in her buttons acting as a thin veneer to a public indecency charge. "You like the chocolate Visha?"

Visha stumbled on her words at the premise of the question. Expecting another subject. "Yes, thank you. Now." Visha pointed to the mess of cloth in her hands. Prompting Peggie to curiously start with her socks, bending down to have Visha shy her Major's supposedly innocent eyes from looking down her top.

When her dominance was reasserted over Visha's nannying the Aquilonain was upright yet again, and the woman's partner exited the former prison cell.

Visha spontaneously continued to tread the same ground of the famous "talk" she did back at the hotel. While tolerable the first time, it was in no need of restating the relevancy of the Second Lieutenant's actions. "You already gave me the talk Serebryakov. I don't need you to explain teenage lust again."

"Teenage?" Pierre found amusement in the assumption of her age. "Teenager. I'm twenty-one, hardly a kid in our armies."

The other half of the disorderly act was indeed one of Tanya's own. Apparently, one quicker to dress as Sergeant Rinehart stepped out only down to an undershirt and pants with no boots. The rest of his clothes folded orderly over his arm with cap in hand. His cap turned upside down and pressed against his torso. The space intended for one's scalp filled with what appeared to be chocolate bars. Bountiful gifts from the Albion.

It seemed Pierre was fond of giving gifts to her lover.

Her Sergeant looked to be in a greater state of shame than his female counterpart, who just mirrored the dissatisfaction being interrupted. Tanya wanted to imagine herself as a respectable commander, despite the continued challenges imposed by the secular and spiritual realms. If this trollop was to Rinehart's taste then it was not in her place to judge aloud, it was his mistake to make. The issue that infuriated her lay in their choice of location to violate each other.

"Where is the Dacian prisoner?" She further threatened that if they had relocated him there would be a punishment that expanded into the military courts. It would be unfortunate to lose a well-trained and loyal radio operator to a treason charge.

"The door doesn't lock from the inside ma'am." Peggie gave an answer to a question she neglected to care about. Before she could scold the Aquilonain into silence Rinehart filled in for her. At attention to near perfection despite his hairy feet and sweat-laced hair exposed to the world.

"The Albions took him away shortly after we arrived at the airfield Major Degurechaff. According to Peg, her Major made sure of it."

He asked if he needed to elaborate why the secluded room in a forgotten part of the airbase was the ideal spot for a rendezvous – unnaturally she felt humour dictate her response. "Obviously, it was the atmosphere." A single laugh came from the embarrassed man, a startled choke on the air from her adjutant and lovely silence from the near-naked girl.

The information she wanted was relinquished. The answer she wanted was not among it, however.

Lieutenant Pierre started to sort through her clothes to pick out something to affix to herself. Now was time for further measures to ensure there would not be a third offence.

"What do you think you're doing Second Lieutenant?"

The girl did not pause or look at the superior inquiring the question. "Getting dressed ma'am."

"I don't think so." Tanya had trouble keeping the straight face. "If you are so pleased as to carelessly act, I see no reason you can't show the wider world what you and Sergeant Rinehart are up to. I think of it as a new spin on my anti-interrogation training – show us you have nothing to hide."

All eyes were on her now, even Visha stared down at her in surprise. It was such a clever scheme that it would inspire that awe in others. At first glance, it was a prosperous idea, something without a clear end lesson or enhancement to render it a pointless task. In turn, it became a proposal so ridiculous that it only sought to highlight the Second Lieutenant's embarrassment. A threat alone enough to teach the brat to stay in line after she mercifully decided against that method of public shaming. Consequently, making the girl indebted to her and hopefully more submissive as a result.

"I'm not doing that, ma'am."

"It is a little uncalled for isn't it Major?" Rinehart chimed in to her defence, the most respectful and hesitant of the group. Maybe he had not clued in that this was a ruse designed to scare Second Lieutenant Pierre straight.

"You are dismissed, Sergeant." He did not need a second reminder. Retreating away to put on his tunic after sending off a look to Visha. The silent message soon made audible for the trio in the hallway.

"Ma'am," there was an increasing authority in her voice. "With respect, it's unnecessarily cruel to do that to a woman. It was different in our interrogation training, but this is criminal." There was a final extension of sympathy. "I know it must be hard to understand at this moment in time, at your age."

There in was her excuse, an inability to understand the factors in play. Her Adjutant believed her to be serious, but she understood Visha's reasoning perfectly well. To threaten a march across the base down to one's panties could drive anyone into line. If it was implemented, the prince might even reconsider his relationship with her to protect his image. Rendering the brat irrelevant. Said annoyance was adamant in prolonging her unofficial title as she dressed regardless of commands against it.

She wanted to use the prince to the best of her abilities, even if he had an annoying stint and cowardly reaction to a mere date. But then the Salaryman knew of other young men nervous about the concept of romance, so it was not an unexpected reaction. Reservations aside, if there was a concise effort to doubt his friends then she could suffer for that girl's estrogen count. She was helping him as much as she was benefiting herself. Why should a well-off smart man resign himself to being the tool of someone only capable of breathing in ill-conceived grammar? It would be much better if she could direct his skills to best suit her career instead of whatever Pierre wasted it on.

"A Germanic officer making a young woman strip," Second Lieutenant Pierre made no effort to hide her venom laced words. Falling for the trick and becoming agitated as planned. "I don't think this is what Major Hanover had in mind when you smiled and shook hands ma'am."

"How do you know about that Second Lieutenant?" It seemed such a trivial detail to have recorded.

The Second Lieutenant paused to fiddle with her tunic, filling in the apparent gap when it was secured to her person. "Gabriel told me."

"And I see that information only flows in one direction." Pierre's face sunk, indicating a level of truth in the puppet and master relationship. "Assuming of course he is still unaware of your infiltration of the Empire's section of Saint Anne's Hotel."

It might have been the outer child, but it was moderately fun to pester this girl. The classic tasting of one's own medicine. The highly orthodox Prince would be one undoubtedly a believer in limited relations before marriage. A fact his supposed friend had to be aware of and consciously disregarding. "Assuming it was the same man that is."

"Major!" Visha stepped forward into Tanya's views, disapproving of the direction as much as the accused Aquilonain. Now pulling her pants on with increasing difficulty as she swore through gritted teeth.

"Yes, it was Rinehart." Her long legs were finally covered. "We met in Rome, and we are in love. Not that you would know anything about that feeling."

Tanya stepped forward, tempted and willing to start another lesson taught entirely by the grip of her pistol. Not willing to go through with the idea on a whim; but Visha stepping in front of her to physically block her. "She means that because you're still young ma'am."

There was little to be gained if Serebryakov was willing to test outside her limits. Even if Visha's reasoning was sound, it was always a problem to have your subordinates publicly question your leadership. Punishment would have to be reliant on the discipline of Pierre's religious-fanatic Master. Something that apparent coward could no doubt do.

"Get dressed Second Lieutenant." Oddly, the process of re-equipping clothing was paused in some form of surprise. That she was getting what she wanted was a notion possibly held then dashed swiftly after. Her actions, not enticing Visha to leap into criticizing her social betters.

"I want a full breakdown of the interrogation from your superiors. And you are going to explain your fraternisation with my men to them. Am I clear?"

Pierre nodded, affixing a belt and braces to her wrinkled outfit. It was a better deal but not one she could reasonably work her way out of. Her only meagre ally was silent; rendering her powerless to resist and at another's will. Just like she should be.

11/10/1924/ Central Moldovia, Principality of Dacia / Rural Agricultural Region / 07:03

"Where should we land?" Sergeant Rinehart's voice came from the orb around Tanya's neck, repeated to each member of the flight individually. As the commanding officer, she was compelled to answer. "Aim for the property line; where the road meets the gate."

The use of that noun was generous at best. A worn-down dirt path the width of a horse-drawn cart separated the wooden fence of the farm and gradual buildup of the rich Dacian Forest. They were too far behind enemy lines to fear the Green Shirt insurgents lingering within the foliage. If the war continued until the Empire marched over the mountains and she had to fly back here she would regret not having employed scorched earth then and there. That could only be an encouragement to make use of their time today and find something tangible.

Second Lieutenant Neumann pulled her away from incendiary tactics with his wit. "Want us to ring the doorbell Major?"

"It's best to be polite isn't it Neumann? I don't want us to break any trespassing laws like this woman's husband." Both retorts brought out humoured laugher and chuckles from her orb. It was good as the lead manager to build these types of relationships among the battalion members.

Second Lieutenant Pierre spoke out and interrupted her small gasp of pleasure.

"We're gonna need more room for landing." Gabriel following his supposed friend. "Me and Peggie will touch down further on. Wait for us by the front."

It was a mild inconvenience but not one Tanya herself could criticize openly. Gabriel's habit for foreign tongues was worth any difficulties born of the Commonwealth's equipment. Or his choice of companion.

Tanya touched down with her men as planned, Reinhart and Serebryakov rounding out the Imperials she permitted to come along on this trip. Overhead the Commonwealth pair slowing and descending the dirt runway. Totalling up they had six on this impromptu social call. According to their prisoner, it would just be the Marshal's wife and two children on the property. Without the advantage of modern weapons and magic, the two to one status was a lovable advantage.

The battalion could have dealt with this mission on its own, but Major Hanover wanted the Invicta Pact to have a presence. Even if the man had neglected to inform her of the interview's contents personally – rendering that to his deputy Gabriel; she wanted to honour his request to take the Albions with her. He was a respectable and experienced officer of equal rank: an older colleague worthy of her attention. It was their spies that found out where the insurgent leader lived, in peacetime anyways, the 203rd could share a quarter of the glory.

She ordered them to check over their equipment for a final time as they waited. There was no cause to expect resistance, but it would be equally as detrimental to her record if a grenade was accidentally left behind on someone's barn.

"They got some fast gear those Commonwealth mages.' Neumann spoke aloud to no one in particular. The atmosphere added to by Visha first. "They're more like planes than actual mages. It makes me wonder if the Empire can't learn anything from them."

Tanya felt the need to remind her subordinates of the country they worked for. "They might be fast, but they can't do much else. When I saw them at the Dardanelles His Highness couldn't do anything resembling a tight turn. He could barely hover in place. He could barely even hover in place. I don't think I need to remind any of you how vital those were in your training."

"I guess it doesn't matter too much when you're all the way above the standard enemy mage." Neumann was unmotivated by her not-so-subtle reminder.

"Not getting any ideas Neumann?"

"Who me? Never."

"No harm in curiosity," Tanya found it in her to give in to be entertaining in front of her men. "Better to get it out of your system now before it officially becomes treason."

Idle chit chat lasted until the Invicta members joined them. Second Lieutenant Pierre the one with words on her lips, inquiring what they had missed.

"You can catch up later, we need to get in there and get to work." The time for pleasantries was over, she had to promote the business they were attending to. Otherwise, they could be taken over by unproductive conversation. She had to show her apparent friend Gabriel that she could lead despite her age.

Internally bemoaning her short stature again, she climbed in the vertical planks of the wooden fence, taking another to be on top of the crafted wood. Her elevated position allowed for a better view of the property naturally afforded to the young adults behind her.

Quaint: that was the adjective that came to mind. Even without the wonders of mechanization, the property seemed well above the poverty line. A standard farmhouse, barn with accompanying grain silo insight, their crop fields behind the homestead. How far the fields stretched could be easier from the air. In the mix of empty fields and decaying yellowish stocks, it would be remarkably easy to hide valuables or desired information in there.

A cooling breeze ran over the property, carrying with it the scent of the outdoor world and grain fields of the farm. A reminder of the fall season that was out of place in the sunny Dacian countryside. It was almost peaceful, the rifle on her back preventing the full illusion to hold.

The viewing was interrupted by a voice undermining her. Naturally originating from the pest that her regal friend dragged along.

"Isn't that the gate Major?"

The section of the fence she was straddling was the one area that could be naturally moved. She got down and unbound the latch for the gate to be pushed open. Bidding her men entry to take the lead. The shadow of a smug grin made as Second Lieutenant Pierre passed by on the trail. The rest of the party walking in through the opened entrance, their private thoughts kept that way while after witnessing their commander get down from her podium. She knew she should have made Pierre strip and run across that base, anything to cull that woman.

Starting down the rudimentary path, she turned to her radio operator and readied him for his intended purpose. "We should set up a perimeter as a precaution. Rinehart, take a man and get an aerial view of the area. Investigate anything suspicious."

"I'll go with him."

As expected, the girl was volunteering to remove herself from the search and Tanya's presence. If she could not stop Gabriel from taking his friend with him, she could trick that friend and make her believe it was her own idea. "Fine by me."

Gabriel neglected to remind the group of his presence. Only telling his companion directly. "No one in or out. No bodies."

The religious dependant reacted with expected disappointment when he had been informed of his comrade's mischievous relations and disobedience to a superior officer. Although only one of those points seemed to take president in the young Albion's mind. Apparently, they got into a fight after she was almost killed at the convoy attack and were not on speaking terms. Tanya was pleased to see that His Highness did care for the management of his own human resources, even the mouthier ones. Maybe she did not need to intervene, only wait and the girl would get herself killed and leave the prince without an additional person trying to make their life easier through him.

Tanya affirmed them to be back immediately after their large search was complete. If her hunch were correct, the Aquilonain would try to pursue another romantic rendezvous. But her man would not do anything so risky as to incur her wrath if he disputed a direct order. Not if he valued his well being. Her beady-eyed soldier confirmed his order and turned back around to the road for a takeoff, Second Lieutenant Pierre nearly skipping after him in her oversized metal boots.

"Should we take off our mage gear now when we introduce ourselves?" Gabriel turned his direction to the whole group for the first time.

"Why would we do that?" She asked the seemingly obvious, her unit sharing in the confusion. The empire's mage gear was bulky but usable on the ground, or maybe it was just the Commonwealth's men that suffered from fatigue or laziness.

Gabriel continued at the bidding. "If we are about to enter someone's house it only seems polite not to wear all our equipment in it."

The Lieutenant made a fair point, at least he believed himself to have made on. It was wise for the 203rd and by extension her person to avoid ill will among the civilian population. The less collateral damage attributed to her unit the better. But equally as important, her role as overall leader she should acknowledge supposedly fair decisions while maintaining the reigns of command.

Even with a Prince as an informal second, she had to be the first. Meaning she would keep in her equipment, regardless of the snuffing of good manners or difficulty navigating the interior of a home.

Her men had little difficulty in removing her gear, but they should suffer the scorns of the introduction before stripping to the flight suit.

What went through the mind of the wife when she peeked through her window? Four armed mages walking towards her humble abode – one dyed red like that of the Dacians. Tanya saw her reaction was to duck away and draw the curtains. Neumann echoed her internal thoughts with his own. "We must look a friendly bunch."

"I'll say." Added Visha.

There was no reason not to involve herself. "Does anyone see a cowbell to ring in place of a doorbell?" She looked up to Gabriel, waiting for him to join in the banter, instead of keeping to his silence. Looking ahead at the wooden structure without a word to give. Perhaps he was in the right state of mind, they should be getting down to the task at hand so they could get out of here.

Tanya ordered Visha to go around the back in case they made a run for it and Neumann to knock. As the tallest and broadest male present, he could be an appropriate force of subtle intimidation. The forethought bred results, an older blonde woman appeared in the crack of the door. Neumann stepped back into line as the door opened wide, the house owner no longer contented to hide from foreigners.

"Miss Herta Tóth." Tanya started.

"What do you want?" The defiant viper of a wife matched the resistance of her husband. Admirable but equally futile and an overall annoyance to her.

"I suspect you know why we are here."

"What else is there for you?" The woman stepped out to confront them. "The army already took our horses, our cattle. Do you want my coin purse too? My son and daughter?" Tanya had the farmer stare directly down into her eyes, attempting and failing to overpower her. "I see the Empire has no morals about sending children to war."

How difficult. Tanya had hoped for a more cooperative or meek subject not actively blocking their entry to her house. Courage was a desirable trait but when paired with unfavourable odds it often resulted in the illogical senses of human rationality.

"We have reliable information that this is the residence of a self-proclaimed Marshal Joška Broz Tóth. He is currently attempting to wage a guerrilla war west of the mountains. A former reservist Lieutenant that rounded the Dacian survivors and is now using old mining tunnels to travel undetected. We are here to search the property for any items we determine are useful to us; with or without your assistance."

Despite her quick lessons in Dacian, some of the woman's response fell deaf to her. The claim of her and her children's innocence further pushed, likely accompanied by a curse of some kind. Lieutenant Gabriel could assist her with his enviable talent for linguistics – a comment to his inclination to order that he did whisper for permission to speak. Tanya loved it.

"Has your husband visited or contacted you since he left in September?"

Her denial was quick and sharp, following with the claim that "I've

only seen the army when they come to confiscate my property. How do I tend to the fields in the spring without horses?"

Neumann muttered about the existence of tractors in Germanic, something she did not want to admit was amusing. Overshadowed by the authority of the prince. "We are only interested in information pertaining to the Green Shirts, ma'am. Now can you please call for your-."

His request was rendered mute, one of the children appeared in the doorway. Another blonde, this time male and only aged up by the black bruise over his left eye.

"Hinko?" Herta sounded surprised to see her son if the presence of him inside the house was a slight or some contrived problem. The mother rapidly ordered her spawn to return inside but Tanya would have none of that and ordered him down to stand next to his mother. The elder pushing her youth into her side. To keep him in place, or potential poaching away.

"Where is the other child?" Tanya remembered two children being mentioned, the youngest a so far not seen by her team and no call from Rinehart flying somewhere above them. "She's in the fields." The young boy provided the excuse of her playing amongst the dead crops. Neumann already was on his orb relaying the information to their love birds in the air to keep their eyes peeled for the third resident.

Gabriel directed the Dacians to the side while she recalled Visha and disrobed themselves of their valuable flight gear. Leaving them to rest organised and dirt-free next to the entrance, atop piles of firewood.

"I don't allow guns in the house." Miss Tóth called over to Tanya, her boot on the entrance step.

"You're not in charge of Imperial mages."

"I am in charge of my own house."

Tanya looked to their guard, hoping he would tell her to be quiet. But the Albion's eyes that met hers were of sympathy to the adult over herself. Rather than challenge her authority or offer his input he kept silent, preferable than offering sympathies to alleged insurgent sympathisers.

Tanya would peel the rifle off her back out of convenience rather than any orders from a farmer. Visha and Neumann would do no such thing. Her sidearm intentionally staying by her side where it would remain regardless of the farmer's protest. She handed her primary weapon off to Gabriel for the chance to exchange a word. An appropriate moment to remind him that she was willing to be friendly. "How are you holding up, Your Highness."

"It gets us one step closer to Albion Major."

At least he was thinking of completing this mission as quickly as possible. "Not a big step I'm afraid."

"It is still a step."

Tanya returned to her role of power, starting with Visha; instructed to search the barn first before moving onto the house. Neumann followed her inside the estate and got to his task with glee.

Then came the outcome of feeling mildly sidelined by her own actions. As the official head of the investigation, it was beneath her to partake in the full search. Already Neumann was rummaging through the cupboards in the kitchen. Her stature made searching through low waist height storage a convenient possibility. However, that would be an invitation for ridicule behind her back. It was not an issue of her pride but practicality, a woman naturally held less sway in the male-dominated military – a child less so. To let her authority be questioned without a good reason might lead to a lax of discipline, which could drop the quality of the 203rd and send her career into a death spiral. The continuous fighting would not be aided by the fourth Company Commander watching her search the pantry.

Lieutenant Stuart had influenced his regal sway in the introduction, now was not the time to let others interpret her as meek. Or much worse – as cute.

Their best Dacian speaker would naturally take part in the interviews, but why should that exclude her?

The rising sun continued its expected course as Tanya stepped back outside. It would only be coming earlier each day as winter crept closer. They could trick themselves that this war was being waged in the summer and not late autumn.

The prince kept to his feet while the wife and son sat with their backs against the exterior wall of the house. Miss Tóth giving out a cutting look to the Lieutenant despite his attempts at diplomacy. Pacing in front of them with his hands behind his back. She called out while making her presence closer to the three, using the Germanic language only they would be accustomed to. "How is Miss Tóth, Lieutenant?"

"The Lady of the house appears to be well Major." He fixed his presence onto her, picking up on the secretive nature and speaking in the same language.

"Don't let me interrupt Lieutenant. Show me how you Albions do it."

For all her talk of authority, it was a carful subject to approach around him. But everyone was expected to kneel to those who wore crowns.

In a neutral expression, he shifted back to the prisoners, letting her stand at her side.

"We know about your Husband ma'am." Gabriel continued his monologue.

"Well, that would make one of us." Miss Tóth looked down her nose at the prince. He seemed momentarily lost for the next step to take.

"We…we…" Gabriel cleared his throat. "Our information confirms that he is still alive and inflating the loss of life on both sides. If you cooperate we can save lives."

The civilian was unmoving by the plea, still leaning against her house. "Am I to negotiate peace for my husband?"

Tanya stepped in "We need you to help us end this war as swiftly as possible. Provide answers to any questions we give you and keep the talking back to a minimum." Her partner chimed in with more biblical nonsense. Dacia was one of the many Eastern nations that were of the Orthodox faith. But the Latin Church Gabriel loved apparently was close enough for Gabriel to recite with moral superiority.

"It is your duty as a child of the Lord to preserve the sanctity of human life ma'am."

"You'll kill him if you find him, won't you? What about the sanctity of his life?"

Tanya did not bite internally over the mention of Being X, as much as the wretched creature annoyed her. Gabriel's forfeiting of power in the interrogation was more impactful. He tried to put the responsibility on Miss Tóth to answer, but that tactic had a low success yield if the other party was not as revered to a higher power as the Lieutenant was.

"I will do nothing of the sort." The wife continued her disdained attitude. Stabbing at the air with her hand when highlighting her own defence. "My husband's dealings are his own. I have nothing to gain from talking to you Imperials."

"We should not concern ourselves with earthly rewards ma'am." Gabriel maintained his religious fervour. Tanya knew how lucky she was to disguise her sigh as a regular exhaust.

"Then let the war go on forever! Send more of us to see God for our rewards. Why wait?" She stood up at her final declaration. Gabriel, the soldier she saw effectively execute a successful Gallipoli campaign from the air, stepped back at the raised voice of an angry housewife.

Reciting from scripture might have merit if used as a support method but to base, the crux of interrogation was evidently lacklustre. Exploited by the increasingly angry woman. "Doesn't your Church also say to remain faithful and rational? Where is either in this war you brought?"

Tanya stepped in while Gabriel had his tongue-tied with Catholic doctrine.

"It was Dacia that declared war on the Empire. The blood is on the hands of your government and your husband's conduct against soldiers and any Dacian civilians alike."

Miss Tóth looked around, unfocused on an actual challenge but slowly squared in on her. "Well, forgive me for not wanting to assist in the arrest of my husband."

"What about preventing your own?" Tanya spoke ahead of Gabriel's reaction, his eyes sticking to the back of her head but mouth remaining shut – perfect for her subordinates. "Aiding the enemy, engaged in insurgent activities, attacking civilians – if indirectly. It is all liable in Imperial courts."

It was a slight exaggeration, one Herta Tóth attempted to fight against. "The Empire has no authority in this country." She appeared pleased with her defiance. The claims of criminal action not addressed. Much like the spirit of the Dacian vanguard. Their destruction guaranteed after but one obstacle.

Imperial courts that will be in use after our inevitable victory, regardless of whatever pitiful resistance your people put up." The final touch in her presentation in grinding down the woman's will. "I imagine it will be hard to raise children from a prison cell. I wouldn't know personally. However, the Empire has many fine institutions for orphans."

The woman flinched forward in an expected reaction, a protective grip down onto her son's scalp. His Highness returning into the scene and places himself between the woman and his superior. A human shield: another trait she loved in her subordinates. Herta returned to her seat, hugging her son into her side. As if that could stop the force of law from striking down upon her saddened face.

It was not her fear Tanya wanted, only her submission.

"Major Degurechaff?"

Lieutenant Stuart hesitantly spoke up, back to the relative privacy of Germanic. If sounding uncomfortable his posture betrayed nothing. At least the fear was only applied to romantic situations.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Would you permit me to take the boy away?"

She raised a brow at the request, initially wondering if it was a means to undermine her. But how could a young boy do that?

"For what purpose?"

"I want to see if we can get answers from him." He turned towards her. Again, in the monotone calm, she associated with him without fear of reprisals. Not deterred by her inability to see his point. "What do you think a child would know about this war, Lieutenant?"

"Shouldn't we ask what he knows of his father instead Major?" Tanya grinned and Gabriel matched it, in his morphed uncertain version of a smile.

"I like the way you think Lieutenant."

It would only be a matter of time until the child's mother cracked, taking away her child to do only Being X knew what with. Gabriel would not do anything he considered sinful, but the mother did not know that; it would only accelerate the process. She had to admire the efficiency and cunning of her social superior.

"I'll allow it, you can take him into the barn."

"Actually ma'am," He paused momentarily, stealing a look down at the young boy. "Would you permit me to use the bedroom?"

She approved again, it mattered little where the brat was kept.

"As long as you keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't hide anything useful from us."

"Yes sir." He saluted her, becoming a soldier's statue. "Should I send out Mr. Neumann to assist you, Major?" She denied the offer, this woman was no match for a magic user, and she did not need another strongman to compete with. Her clerical free rhetoric and sidearm was enough.

11/10/1924/ Central Moldovia, Principality of Dacia / Tóth Residence, children's room / 07:45

Visha opened the final drawer on the dresser. This one filled with various cotton socks neatly arranged in rows by the child who put them there. They were visibly clean and soft to the touch as she rummaged through to check for any contraband. Her hand reached to the back without finding anything unrelated to footwear and he had to withdraw. She waited to close the drawer, however, lost in the gaze if of the pristine hole-free and fresh smelling socks.

Part of her still did not want to recognise that something as simplistic as foot covers could be appealing. The Empire gave priority to its soldiers in times of peace and crisis, 203rd mages naturally getting preferential treatment. But her small stockpile of rationed and home gifts had no examples of good maintenance. Even with the invention of flight she only owned worn down socks with too many holes. Visha closed the drawer, the idea of theft had crossed her mind but was swiftly vanquished. Even if they belonged to the enemy, to steal was a moral sin even when not legally a crime. That thought came before the practical problem of a child's size being too small for her own use.

Rising back to her feet, the final flaw in the plan that she overlooked: the two witnesses in the room with her.

"Find anything Miss Serebryakov?"

The Lieutenant asked in a Germanic tongue from across the room. His own attention given to the side belonging to the young boy also in their company. The search of the house so far had turned up nothing they could use. Once she had returned from the barn Neumann sent her in to start on the kid's room; joining Gabriel while young Hinko showed the royal his toys as the prince had requested.

Once again, she found herself in relative privacy with a member of a royal family. A frightening enough prospect to keep her busy and not make any more mistakes.

"Miss Serebryakov?" Already she was failing in her internal commitment. Gabriel received her negative answer, sounding more firm than previously encountered on the bench of a truck.

Gabriel then spoke out in Dacian, receiving silence from the boy before opening the curtains and window. Visha's own understanding of the language was leniently poor. The Major encouraged everyone to learn enough to communicate with civilians, but her self-taught Dacian was slower than her Albion.

The boy remained silent on his bed but looked out the window with the prince. More Dacian was said that made the boy erupt into a giggling fit.

The room had now been thoroughly searched and nothing else remained but to watch. Gabriel turned, focusing on the boy. Now comfortable in his stance, he spoke words Visha could understand, softer and almost happier in his speech.

"How old are you Lad?"

The boy nodded out an answer. "Eleven."

"My, Eleven!" Not far from being a proper man are you? When I was your age I jumped at my own shadow. My friend Frederique had to push me into everything." Gabriel appeared lost in his own mind, only including the child he talked to. "No, I couldn't have done anything without her. But here you are Lad, stepping out to be with your mother when a bunch of strangers show up at your doorstep. It must be hard being the man of the house while your father is out."

Gabriel wandered a step closer. Crossing his arms and leaning in for a quick question. "He is out? Doesn't return at all?" The boy shook his head, Gabriel retreated to the window, scratching his black hair. Thinking on his next move.

On Visha's side of the room, the lack of activity became apparent. The bedroom was confined to the rest of the house design of modest poverty. Furniture and inhabitants a far cry from stories of the Major's upbringings. Nothing pitiable but it made her middle-class upbringing look like some summer home Gabriel likely owned over in the Americas. But then there was the Major. She who lived in conditions more dire than this and turned out better than any of them. Humbled rather than scornful and greedy because of her civilian life.

"Miss Serebryakov," Gabriel startled her out of her thoughts. She readied herself for a reprimanding for the mistake of daydreaming. "Can you fetch my helmet from the table please?"

He motioned his head out into the living space, much of his attention still directed to the child sitting on the bed. It was a simple if out of place request that she had no reason to deny, but simultaneously she felt that it was bad to decline a prince. She stepped out to return seconds later with the requested item. Gabriel picking up the shards of bird and putting them back on their original perch of the dresser.

Gabriel thanked her for the retrieved item and turned his attention to it – or rather into it. He turned the steel item upside down and reached inside the space intended for a human scalp, pulling out a square item that she could not immediately identify. A shining rectangle creased to the helmets natural bend. Unidentifiable until it was stated by the owner sitting on the bed next to his audience.

"This is my nephew: George. The son of my brother. He's all the way across the Atlantic in North America." Gabriel kept his voice calm without wavering in the conversation for the first time. "Like you, I made a commitment to protect him. I want nothing more than to be back there with him. If you know anything about your father, I will try with all my power to bring him back to you and your mother."

He passed the photo on for Hinko to continue his gaze. Visha's towering presence an awkward upside angle at the item. It was more interesting as to the origin of this weird transparent coat the photo had.

"I don't want him back." The boy spoke without provocation, over-encumbered with apparent honesty. "I mean, I do want Father back, but sometimes I…" He trailed off, down to the floor, down to Gabriel's boots.

Visha felt her presence was out of place in the room. An anonymous Imperial that young Hinko had not trusted in showing off his toys to. A matter Lieutenant Stuart would probably agree with. "Should I leave sir?" To say his name had an odd sense to it, a slime covering her tongue at the notion of saying something so personal.

Gabriel shook his head initially, whispering back and forth with the kid until a nod was made by Hinko. Her existence in the room was justified and she was silently motioned to sit across from the pair on the sister's bed. She wanted to reject it but when the boys looked up towards her forced her hand.

"Why don't you want your father back?" Visha could scold herself for her lack of craft. If the boy even understood the language she mutilated. It was not that she disliked kids, but they could be another species sometimes and apart from the Major she had no practical experience. The notion of Tanya Degurechaff being anything tangentially normal children was wrong on many levels. She made herself sit and listened to what she could understand from young Hinko. Offering whatever female support her presence gave in this scenario.

The boy wriggled upwards to whisper into His Highness' ear. "No Lad, you won't get in trouble. Just tell us the truth." The boy came back down ready to tell his story. "The Lord will not find sin if you were protecting someone you love."

Gabriel intently waited for what was to come. Assuming it might be of military importance Visha activated a formula to keep a record; a small quick spell that went unnoticed by anyone else.

"Papa came back home after the war started."

"Do you remember what day?" Visha intervened, receiving a shaking head and quick look for silence from the Lieutenant. The first time he directly commanded her.

"Mama said he was dead so at first, I was happy he was here. He wanted all his old maps and things from when he worked in a mine. Papa had a bunch of soldiers to collect everything. He didn't even say hello to me or my sister." Young Hinko paused to regather his composure. "One of the men started yelling at Mama. I think she pushed one of them first but then there was a fight."

He pointed past her into the living area. The faint sound of Neumann singing to himself where there was once apparent shoving, swearing, and shouting according to further comments.

"Papa got his hands on Mama and yelled right in her face, I wanted to help even though Mama always told me and my sister to stay in our room whenever it happened."

"This time you tried to help." Gabriel finished the boy's sentence after he neglected to. Now that it was apparently questioning time. Something Visha knew she could take part in. Pointing to her own left eye to mirror the damage. "Is that how you got this?"

Again, prompting another nod. Afterwards, the children were locked in their room and left to nurse the room. Apologising for his efforts and minimal information to give. Visha was pleased Gabriel was taking point on this assignment; it was easier to record than pry out these painful answers, not that she would know-how.

She would probably try to be like the Major and take a heavy-handed approach. Something that would do nothing to ease the poor kid.

"Hinko." Gabriel accepted the attention and did not shy away from it. Cutting off the boys own refusal of appraisal. "You do not need to apologise for protecting your mother. You are more of a man than anyone who was there. I don't know or care what they told you, the Lord loves those who protect the innocent. I want you to help that happen again. If you know anything we need to know. Nothing of this earth is perfect but through our actions, we can make it closer to the kingdom of heaven."

They both waited in silence for the boy to respond. Two young adults leering at a child struggling through an internal conflict too complex for his age. Visha considered interrupting the stalemate to try another approach. Perhaps something more akin to the Major's methods. Throwing the law at him would not work and Visha knew she lacked the stomach to bypass threatening a minor – or anyone for that matter. Meaning bribery might be the viable alternative. But His Highness was proven to be the winning party when Hinko made his confession.

"Papa came to my room after he finished with mama. He apologised and then gave me a box. It was filled with old maps and stuff they needed to keep safe." Hinko pointed out in the direction of the field. "He told to go bury it out where we grow stuff."

Visha looked to Gabriel, but it was not returned. The usually uncomfortable seriousness was overtaken by a new look. One still familiar, last seen with Gabriel's bayonet cutting into a dead man's head.

The prince patted the boy on his head, to the visible pleasure of the rewarded boy. Happy to receive treatment that was not abusive in nature. Gabriel retrieved his glossy photo and stuffed it back into the helmet.

"I'll tell you what Hinko. Together we can do the Lord's work today." He placed the steel hat onto the boy who immediately took a liking to it. Still a child, it was just another toy to play with. "You take me to where you hid the box and I'll give you the rest of my chocolate I have in my bandoleer."

Visha sat on the same spot after Gabriel asked to be taken to the buried chest out in the field. She asked if she should accompany them but was rebutted by His Highness' intent to finish this assignment. Perhaps it was for the best. She was little more than a shadow hovering over the pair without natural appeal Gabriel seemed to have with young ones. Then there was the pain felt in her stomach as she mulled over the story.

Reflecting on her own childhood no comparison could be found. Mother and Father had punished her of course but never had they laid hands on her. Young Hinko had been beaten for protecting his mother from the other parent. It made the knot in her stomach tighten; an extra layer added for each possible instance where it had been the mother protecting her kin as a human shield.

It would be best to overcome this internal disgust before reporting her to the Major. She took the lady of the house in for a more private interrogation. Periodic yells of both an adult and child would emit from the barn halfway between the property line and the house. Neumann strolled into the room, none the wiser to her internal thought.

"You alright Visha." The cheery attitude altered when he noticed the funk that kept her planted on the bed. She was not inclined to lie or evade the hard topic. Neumann intently listened but could not submit his visual attitude to melancholy like herself.

"Well, it helps put everything into perspective in a way." He wandered around the room with a natural end by the windowsill. "It's easy to think the 203rd has it the worst, but here's someone who doesn't know anything but this. At least most of us have something good when we think of home."

Visha reluctantly agreed, if noncommitted to doing so. Neumann still made himself laugh, however.

"Maybe we should blow the Marshal up twice when we figure out which tunnel he's hiding in. Might make the country a bit better." He continued one to lift her spirits. "That bruise looks what, a week old? We can call it cathartic justice."

He clearly joked about the idea. If it was a perversion of their motives for personal desire rather than their professional duty.

"Looks like Rinehart is back." He got her to perk up slightly, prompting a necessary change of topic. Standing to join Neumann on their feet she remained stationary for the moment. "Is Peggie with them?"

"Two steps behind. Always together those two. Not that Rinehart seems to like it." Neumann went onto mention how she spent much of the night in Rome around Rinehart. Clinging to his side once the booze started flowing. "Part of me wonders why." His sarcasm was evident. Not tempting for a response but Visha knew she could add information pertaining to the couple.

"Me and Major Degurechaff caught her sneaking out of Saint Anne's back in Rome. And two days ago, at the airfield. She says they're in love."

"Really?" Visha was admittedly put off by the genuine confusion, but Neumann was already onto his next point. "They were doing what I imagine two young people in private do."

She hesitantly nodded at the embarrassing encounter.

Neumann exhaled, studying the pair far outside the window. "Grantz won't be happy to hear that."

"Why?" Now she was the one out of the loop. Neumann chuckled from his throat, nodding his head to beckon her to join him at the window. "Apparently love at first sight is one-sided. Grantz saw her when we were all out in Rome and fell for her. I've been giving him what advice I have since." He sighed quietly. "Maybe he dodged a bullet if she's like that."

Visha saw the Imperial walking with his lover chatting to his side along the fence. The taller one distracting himself with the radio until they reached the gate. Visibly uninterested in the happy expression of his girlfriend.

"Are you sure she said, love?"

"I'm sure she was holding her corset while saying it. Why?" It made sense to root for your friend to succeed but there was something else here.

"It's an odd match." Neumann dragged his hand through his wavey hair. Rinehart is in my wing right. And he told us before he's a card-carrying member for the Empire's Fasces Party; the Vaterland Front I think. Showed us his pins and everything. Considering the girl is from the Commonwealth I never thought they would get on."

Visha remained silent at the information. The ideology had spread as far as the Unified States and the Akitsushima Dominion long before the Albion revolt. Spurred in the coffee shops, factory floors and intellectual centres of nations. Adopting, abandoning, or modifying characteristics and values as it suited politicians. While she never followed politics before her conscription, the word always brought her back to that night in the kitchen. Father holding her in his arms, the nervous tone of the announcer and Auntie consulting the dead look on her mother's face. Even if the local variant denounced violent overthrows and favoured peaceful reforms. It always left a bitter taste in her mouth that scrunched up her face.

Rinehart leaned against the fence, the radio pack at his back and a black-haired brunette swinging her hips to his front. Her countryman was more interested in the Dacian woods beyond the fence and a fag package in his hands.

"I won't tell if you won't."

Neumann reached for his computation orb and slowly maintained a formula. Refining it until the glow brought out the rough static voices of their companions. Visha began the process of scolding but allowed herself to be meekly rebuffed. "We have to look out for our battalion, right Visha?"

She knew it was proper to deny him, but the temptation to give in was too great and made her listen in. Initially the remnants of an existing conversation altered at Peggie's will.

"So. Once we're done here Rinehart, I was…" Peggie balanced on her heels. It was interesting to see her in a new element: over-powered and cowed.

Rinehart appeared unaware of the switch in personality and offered her a fag before taking his own.

"…when this scavenger hunt is over. Want to have dinner together?"

The distance was too great for such a detail, but Visha could imagine Peggie batting her eyelashes to entice the offer.

"You want to do it again tonight? And I thought men had a high drive." Rinehart inhaled and puffed out smoke, equally as surprised as Peggie was off-put.

"Was that what she asked Neumann?" Visha whispered despite there being no need. "Doubt it." They turned back to their subtle snooping.

Peggie confirming Neumann's suspicion, stepping back and making a pained face. "No, nothing like that. Just dinner and talking – date stuff."

"I shouldn't, I need to save more for my dad's piano shop back home. Surprisingly, no one buying composed music in the middle of a damn war." The sound muffled by the tobacco in his mouth. "I didn't realise you were the dating type Peg."

He offered another opportunity to smoke, declined on count of "Commonwealth rules for mages." Peggie then reverberating her increasingly panic filled confusion.

"What do you think we were doing last time?"

"I don't think I should need to explain that to you. I think Lieutenant Serebryakov is skilled in that talk to others." If he knew the growing problem he was at the centre of, Rinehart would not be chuckling at his own joke. Peggie swatted away the motion he was on. Further walking in place while in clear distress to the feminine eye; a fact she had to confirm for the guessing Neumann. It could be an amusing show if not for the darker nature slowly emerging.

Rinehart chiming into the serious topic, dragging on his fag less. "Hang on Peg? I don't think we're on the same page."

"Clearly!" Verbalised by the irritated Aquilonain. Visha mouthed out the same word to Neumann's familiar laugh.

He tried to offer her another fag, now out of clemency. The package being thrown over his shoulder by Peggie. Crossing her arms, she demanded an explanation from the man she supposedly loved.

"We met in Rome. I bought you two days worth of drinks in one night. Then we went back to my hotel room." He demonstrated each sentence with small hand motions. "Then, you come find me at the airfield. We talk for a bit then you offer me chocolate while talking about a secluded room."

Rinehart puffed out another cloud of smoke, carefully picking words as smoke blow past his lips. "I'm sorry but I thought you were a…a well…"

Peggie was still, Rinehart no longer using the fence as a support. Still enticing the wrath of the Commonwealth Lieutenant. "A-what?" With the low quality of the formula, she still had a snap end evident in her demand. Visha could already see how this was going to conclude. "Tell me!"

"I thought you were…that we had a deal."

"Don't say it Sergeant." Neumann muttered through the fist pressed against his face. A sentiment she agreed with wholeheartedly.

"A what!"

"I thought you were a whore."

Rinehart's begrudging exclamation was rewarded with a slap across the cheek. The fag disappearing from vision at contact and lost by the time the wounded Rinehart was holding his wound. To his credit, Rinehart accepted the abuse and made no move of retaliation.

"Don't talk to me again!"

Peggie was speed walking over to the house. Although not in the open, Visha and Neumann both ducking into the curtains to avoid detection. "I think Grantz has a chance after all."

They did not need a formula to hear Rinehart apologise to the woman walking away from him. Claiming with sincerity that he "never intended to hurt you Peg." Peggie made it halfway to the house with her ex on her heels. The woman silent, one on the verge of tears. Visha just had to pretend to be hearing of the breakup for the first time if she was consulted.

Then a loud snap reverberated through the air. Rinehart flinching at the sound more than anyone else, falling forward onto the battery of the flight gear. A hole in the radio on his back sparking from the contact of a foreign object.

On instinct, Visha ducked further behind the wall. Neumann was already there to not draw any fire to themselves. "Was that a bullet?"

She nodded her head against her will – another ambush from the woods. "Sounded like a rifle. What do you think?"

Unfortunately, Neumann backed her guess.

The mana she pushed into her offset the tightening pain of her chest. Without a gun or flight gear, they lacked any offensive capabilities. "See if you can get the Major or the Prince over the comms."

"Yeah on it," Neumann was already fiddling with the red gem. "Thinking of going somewhere?"

Before Visha could tell him she overcame the internal sense, grabbed her rifle off her back and clambered through the window towards the fallen ally. She had no indication where the shooter was – or if there was only one – her feet were acting faster than any rational that would have her find a gun or hideaway. Peggie was acting on the same instinct of military women, tending to the injured colleague with an active barrier. Two rapid shots against her own shields prevented her from pondering on the actions of the scorned women.

Confirmed. More than one active shooter.

A stray round grazed her shield, pumping more mana into her palm to fix the area Visha slid next to Peggie. Without an introduction, she helped peel the metal box from Rinehart's back.

"Long time no see Visha." Despite the revelation of her heart and the present circumstance Peggie kept her wit stable as another round struck the shield. Visha noted the red puffy eyes former but declined to comment. "Likewise."

The Sergeant was groaning below them but appeared largely ignorant to the company and only reacted to a dose of healing mana. Visha had to look away from the red hole in the upper back of his flight suit. Better in appearance than other soldiers she had helped. The discarded radio had absorbed enough of the blow that Rinehart was still breathing. Judging by his grunts and low utterance of pained swears it was a reasonable assumption he would have preferred death.

Infrequent untrained shots whizzed around them, a fraction meeting their target but none penetrating the shield. A new source to the sound of gunfire spiked into the air. The softer weapon was only able to drown out the sound of higher calibre weapons through rapid-fire. From the barn emerged the Major, ever as brave by drawing away from the fire with her pistol firing towards the forest.

Then the Major yelled into the interior of the structure; aiming her weapon inside to enforce her position. From the barn doors sprinted the housewife in a ducked position, sent to run towards Visha and her allies. Already Visha could see the intent of her battalion leader. Ceasing her magical aid and took aim with her rifle. With an injured ally and unseen enemy, Visha knew each shot had to count.

"Aim for the treeline Serebryakov." Major Degurechaff shouted as she made her way closer to the small group.

"We need to move him." Visha deflected another unsuccessful round off her shield.

"Where to? Barn or house?" Peggie picked up her ex-lovers' arm, ready to drag him away. The Dacian mimicked the act after some prodding to do something other than look frightened.

"Fall back to the house! We can deal with these guys once we're out of the open." The Major bellowed out as she added a stripper clip into her Mauser handgun. Picking up Rinehart's discarded rifle lest it falls into enemy hands.

Leaving behind the broken radio and a small trail of blood. They half-pulled half-carried Rinehart to the designated building and into relative cover. Visha taking the rearguard position with her single magazine deposited into the leaves of the trees. Each shot likely unfounded but hopefully close enough to keep the enemy's heads down. Successful as no rounds struck her or any other Imperial shield. Only Peggie swearing and flinching as her shoulder deflected a stray round. The only incident until they were all past the front door.

"I never thought it would be you, Rinehart. My first casualty – in the back no less!"

The injured did not answer as he was placed face down on the kitchen table after his flight gear was yanked off. Neumann present only temporarily to check over everyone's status and confirm the prince was on the other side of the communication formula. Taking a moment to relay the safe status of Miss Tóth's son.

Visha slammed the door. Her borrowed weapon now emptied. Peggie yelled in Albion for the present wife to assist her. Turning to the scene the Sergeant had his face against the well-used wood, motionless; three figures around her applying medical care. Tanya ordering Herta to bring whatever equipment she could to treat the wound. Peggie caught her lingering eye, looking away and felt for a pulse on his neck.

"Unconscious."

"Good. I don't want my first battlefield death to come from Dacia." The Major pushed Herta Tóth on to play a nurse when she returned with disinfectant. The woman shared the same puffy eyes as Peggie; now unusually submissive and tended to the wound with Commonwealth provided bandaging.

Visha let an inappropriate smile shine through, hidden behind her hand once she knew it might make her look psychotic. Death had been staved off for a moment longer at the cost of a battalion member suffering. Major Degurechaff too showed her appreciation in her own special way. The controlled frustration a sign of her affection for her subordinates – they were still new yet the 203rd already important to the Major.

Once again, Visha was indulgent with a selfish sense of self-preservation. All this pain caused at the pull of the trigger; one trigger not dissimilar to the one she owned. She could only act and pray this would never become her fate or anyone she cared for.

"What should our plan be Major?" Visha forced herself back onto the violence of this situation. Because of the order to disarm, only the Major's sidearm and the assorted tools on Peggie was all they had. The referenced woman perked up to fill in where she was not asked.

"I've got an idea."

The Major let her amusement out unvarnished. Implying that silence would be preferable while she thought of an actual plan. Taking the order as a polite suggestion, Peggie instead worked herself away from the injured man and silently made her way to the kid's room; having the Major and Visha silently watch. Crawling on her stomach to avoid being seen through the window, Peggie proceeded to craft her perch by closing the curtains, slowly pushing her rifle out through the flap, and peering through the scope. Each centimetre moved taken in great care to not draw attention to herself. Even her speech taking on this new slow seriousness. "Just as I thought."

Remaining rigged she explained herself, now to the Majors attention, if reluctant to acknowledge the adulterer.

"It looks like we roused the local farmers' militia. Multiple targets breaking from cover from the tree lines. They don't shoot like professionals, and they sure don't look like 'em either."

"Are you sure Second Lieutenant? I don't think the regular army constitutes that title any more than an armed mob."

"My eyesight is fine Major." Peggie harrumphed but maintained her professional nature.

"Old age, no uniforms, hunting rifles by the looks of it. It looks like a collection of whatever the army didn't want." Peggie continued in her serious nature. "Major Degurechaff, permission to engage the enemy? I can slow them down; provide cover while the rest of you grab all that gear you left outside."

The Major sighed, resigning herself to do more business with a deal she appeared to have no faith in. "Can you even make such a shot?"

"I can shoot loose threads off their flat caps off their heads if the wind is right. Or I can go for the kill," Peggie paused at that particular proposal. "I doubt that would work entirely. If this were my tribe back home being attacked I wouldn't run. Hell, or high water."

"Start with an artillery spell in the air, that should teach them of how we fight a war. Suppress them and only aim for their guns if you can make the shot. Dead civilians would make the occupation harder."

"I don't want to kill a bunch of old men playing soldier Major." Peggie peeked away from the scope to look down at the rest of them. The threats unacknowledged for the time. "At your order Major."

Major Degurechaff told Visha to ready herself along with Neumann. While Neumann attempted to relay the events of Gabriel's interview second hand; extensively clarifying why someone was digging holes in the fields to someone that was too busy in the moment for a full story. Visha peeked out through a wooden split along the hinge of the front door. A line of over two dozen aged men occupied the stretch of road the 203rd landed on hours before. The residence of the local community that could arm themselves and had the courage to use hunting equipment against targets larger than hares and foxes.

"Why don't you start us off Second Lieutenant?" Tanya called out to the house, making Visha and Neumann prepare themselves to sprint out into the open.

Peggie made no affirmation of the order. If originating from insubordination or focus to be decided by those individuals viewing her. Lowly muttering out the word "Invicta" through the computation orb before her trigger was squeezed, the rifle cracked, an explosion rang in their ears and Visha opened the door.

The ordeal could be ended there with a single artillery spell aimed for lethal results. Or she could land in the middle of the group and repeat the slaughter done at the Dacian field headquarters. But the God-fearing Major's own commitment to a righteous nature and the higher power had them take the harder option. If she wanted to scare them, then that was what they would do.

The danger to Visha and Neumann was negligible due to their shields, although each bullet fired roughly in her direction made Visha squeal internally. At the Rhine, the chaos was too grand for feelings to concentrate on a single sound. In the comparable calm of Dacia, the most minute of weapons stuck out to assault her ears. All she had to do was grab her equipment – more irritating when it all had to be lugged by hand but still manageable.

Peggie slowly began the process of aiming, firing and slowly pulling the bolt back to chamber the repetition of the procedure. Another peek over Neumann's head revealed the accuracy boasted as a rifle cracked in two at Peggie's command. An old man clutching the hand that absorbed the shock from the bullet. Too stunned to resist or offer the same and the only one not hiding from the explosion.

Neumann easily handled his and the prince's bulkier equipment with his larger frame. Dashing back inside with Visha finishing soon after and following him in. Degurechaff closing the door and immediately giving out orders.

"Both of you get dressed! Once His Highness gets back we confirm his information is good then get out of here before someone else gets hurt."

Visha's heart skipped. Leave it to the Major to put the well being of her men above all else. Those who Peggie still shot at were even calculated into her mercy. They had grounds and reason to eliminate them as insurgents, but in her clemency, Tanya Degurechaff had spared them.

"How did they know we were here?" Neumann was next to Rinehart's head giving unheard encouragements but addressed the room to clear his mind. The Major immediately looked towards the homeowner. The answer was already known but frustration bid her to let the woman speak for herself.

Despite Herta's hostility towards them earlier, she did manage to assist the injured. The encouragement to play nurse was a possible result of the armed Imperials surrounding her. Compounded with the reprimanding received by someone barely older than her children. Those additional eyes had continued their pressure onto the fair-haired woman.

"My son." Miss Tóth started stammering out sentences again without a direct intention. "Hinko. He was supposed to run and get the neighbours. He can run like a horse, never tires. But he sent his sister instead."

Visha strapped the battery against her pelvis, slowing her dressing as the revelation continued. Neumann completely abandoned his preparations to leave in favour of listening; until the Major's piercing eyes shifted onto him.

"He sent his sister to run, to keep her safe."

Once confronted with the consequences of her order to undermine the search party, further cracks in her exterior forming until tears threatened to stain her cheeks. "I-I'm sor-"

Visha was unsure if she was speaking to who she was speaking to in the wider context. But the regret of inflicting further pain on Imperial and Dacian, wounds she usually received at the hands of her husband had extracted internalised guilt. Whipping away liquid from her eyes at the cost of smearing specs of red into her cheek. Despite the injury of her countryman and the theoretical danger this women's actions put them in, Visha could not find anger within herself to resent her.

No one spoke for her. None of them had it in them to take it out on a woman accustomed to beatings. Some of them might be angry – Rinehart no doubt one of them – but the process of acting felt too great for any outcome. Visha chose to push the situation aside, wobbling in her gear to stick her head into Peggie's sniper nest.

"How's it going?"

The older woman absorbed the shock of another shot into her shoulder effortlessly. Pulling the metal bolt back and stuffing more bullets into the weapon. Her professional attitude remained while her eye was attached to the glass magnifier. "They're brave I'll give em that. Only five got past the fence but they're staying put. They've manoeuvred to try and surround us, and I can't stop all of them. They ain't hitting me but this Marshal guy will need to repaint the house."

She finished her reload and readjusted the rifle. Rather than looking back into the scope Peggie turned onto her back to look towards the door Visha stuck her head through. The veneer of officer class manners dropped. "Where the hell is Gabriel?"

Visha briefly relayed the truth she was witnessed to, down to the recovery operation out in the field. Peggie smiled slightly, nodding in thanks. "We might have a problem then," She breathed a laugh. "I nicked his chocolate and gave it to that…gave it to Rinehart."

Visha's tongue received a reminder by her teeth to stay in place. She would have to hear it for the first time later back at base. Peggie put the bolt back into the firing position and returned to a crouched position at the window.

"I have two chocolate bars in my bandoleer. I can pin them for a bit longer. Tell Degurechaff we need to move it once Gabriel shows up." Speaking, then squeezing the trigger and sending another torrent of potential death out from the barrel.

Back in the temporary infirmary, the impromptu doctors surrounded their patient. First Visha relayed the situation and the predicament of the attackers surrounding them; timely interrupted by more gunshots, now from behind the house. The first word from the Major matching Visha's own. "Go!"

Visha still had her rifle and was fully kitted her gear back on. The one ready to act on the unknown threat. The back door of the house was closest to the new source of gunfire and had to suffer splintering as her boot made contact with the lock. The possible risk warranted swiftness in action over concern in the procedure. Shields up and her rifle pointed in tactical accordance, both landing on the red coat kneeling from an evident fall.

Lieutenant Stuart was armed with his service revolver in one hand, a young boy carried underneath the other arm. Pressed into the officer's chest while he unloaded into the dead crop that hid the shooter. Albion obscenities delivered through gritted teeth in a volume to rival the gunshots.

On intuition, Visha fired above the shooter's location. A proactive not headed by Gabriel. A body of a middle-aged farmer slumping out of the cover. Several round red holes leaking onto the dirt of the farm.

The risk of more shooters was minimal, but Visha knew to follow precautions, check the corners, and then assist the Lieutenant. Hesitant to touch a prince on her own initiative, regardless of the scenario.

"Are you alright sir?" Visha cautioned her way towards him, neither looking injured at the fault of the ambush.

"Shooting at a bloody kid!" He spit out, regaining access to his feet and not protesting the hand placed under his arm to hoist him up.

"I don't bloody care who the enemy is. You don't fire at kids." He stared into the back of her skull. It was that same look possessed when he cut open the Dacian's head in the ambush. It was not inspired by her, but the animosity possessed made her shrink in his presence.

She covered the retreat inside and joined them three steps behind. No other targets present. The failure of the Major's peaceful retreat lying dead in an increasingly growing pool of blood. But that was a problem for later, in that moment she had to ensure Gabriel or Hinko were not scarred.

All the bodies in the space highlighted the small size of the living area. The mother reunited with her son, the prince placing him in her arms to then check he was uninjured. Miss Tóth assisting after a hug, a kiss, and words in their native tongue.

"What happened Lieutenant?" Tanya paused her healing formula to determine what exactly happened to provoke violent sounds and speech. Stuart kept silent until young Hinko was proven to be without injury. The anger dissipated and what could be considered his normal tone returned.

"Mr. Neumann contacted me and said to regroup. I told the lad to hold onto this and picked him up." He put a hand in between the mother's embrace and retreated a wooden box sized to the boy's torso. Pausing his talk with the Major to say exclusive Dacian words with her, earning more words Visha could not understand and a respectful nod. "I confirmed. Should be every copy of each Green shirt map in there."

Tanya commended his efforts, accepting the box and ordering Visha to aid in his dressing, checking Gabriel for injuries as he neglected to do the same. More uncontested and awkward touching on her part to carry out her orders.

"I didn't have my active shield up. I got caught coming back." Both of the Albion's boots and his back were now on but was still not ready for flight. "He shot, nearly hit us. I returned fire. Dead."

A short and emotionless recounting of events. The Major with her intentions of a peaceful extraction only managed a sigh. Unmotivated to pursue the matter that troubled her so. Gabriel equally shifted the topic away from something he otherwise did not seem to care about.

"What happened to Mr. Rinehart?"

"I'll tell you later. He's stable enough to move so get geared up and let's get out of here." The Major raised her voice to add to the order. "Second Lieutenant Pierre! We are leaving!"

A final snap of the rifle answered Degurechaff. The woman emerging a second later and immediately shifting onto her nations superior. Visha saw the unpleased look but tried to focus on the task she did not know how to do.

"Let me take over." Uncomfortably close again, Peggie pushed Visha out and she let herself become sidelined. Ready for the new round of orders from the Major.

"Neumann, take Rinehart and his equipment. Serebryakov, you and I will set up a perimeter out the back. You two," She turned to the Albions. "Take the box and join us when you're done. Make it quick, I don't want any more incidents."

Even when frustrated, the Major still maintained her care for those around her and those against her.

Each rapidly answered with a "Yes ma'am" and moved to do their objective. Neumann easily carried his man, the unused gear and gently moved the injured in the manner suitable for a bride. The Major took point on the exterior and let her adjutant follow.

Visha let Neumann pass her, lingering a moment longer to observe the unfolding scene. Lieutenant Stuart spoke with the mother, refusing to offer eye contact to pair whatever words he was muttering out.

Peggie deposited her squares of chocolate onto the table, no longer destined as unknowing payments. Resuming her dressing procedure after the blood free section of the table was stacked with sugary provisions.

The final act Visha witnessed before stepping outside was Gabriel gently retrieving his helmet from Hinko's head. The boy behaving in a manner that neglected minutes ago when his protector gunned down one of his neighbours.

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Dispatch, 44th Unitary Beneficiarius Brigade, [REDACTED], - Destroy Upon Receival

Brigadier Donahue.

The fall of the Dacian nation is imminent. The Empire's forces have breached the mountains and nullified near-all behind the line resistance. While taking longer than planned from simulations, there is little doubt among the Unitary High Command that the nation will fall by the end of the month.

You are permitted to enact the Dacian Policy. Once complete: extract the Brigade through Hiltria. We have sympathetic attachments in the Ustaše party that will handle the return trip with all equipment. All necessary measures are to be taken. Nothing can be left to chance.

Codeword: Prindere de Fier

Operational Head of Fasces Intelligence and Head of Unitary Beneficiarius. Herbert Hawkins.

A/N:

A swifter attempt to get the chapter out, maybe I am improving on actually getting these chapters out on time. I apologise these take so long to get out, even if I keep repeating that line. I wish I could say it was from a lack of devotion but Xanen can, unfortunately, confirm I am just slow in my process. I know where everything is to go and what will happen but it is f slower than I imagined. Here's to the next attempt, I guess.

For those who did notice and question why I made such an odd choice, I will briefly explain myself: I am aware the names of Tóth's family are Croatian in origin rather than Romanian. In part, this is simplicity but also helps to strengthen the inspiration of Josip Tito. I doubt this is widely noticed by most but I do see there are readers from the Balkans so I feel responsible to clarify my reasoning (and cover my own rear end from angry comments).

Some of you may notice there is a new cover. The wonderful piece of work is thanks to the amazing skills of the artist Jebi. If anyone is familiar with Komi Can't Communicate should be familiar with him. If you are not then I am pleased to say Jebi will be working on more art in the near future. His information can be viewed on my profile description as this website is strict with links. Please check him out for some amazing work.

As the website is awkward with picture quality I will also post this on the Youjo Senki subreddit underneath the same username as this account. This and future art pieces can be viewed on a Deviant art page shared between myself and Xanen. Again, the information is viewable in my profile description.

Thank you all for reading.