AN: Alright, the first instance of Theresa that I've created based off the vaguest of descriptions on her character. I am so fucked.

I close the visor of the helm, once again concealing my face. It's a bit hard to breathe and see in a visored helm, but it becomes easier with time and I view it as a worthy price for better protection, especially in times of war. Why the logistics and command personnel refuse to wear even the lightest of protection, such as an aketon or linen armor, while in the middle of a war is beyond me.

I stand and turn, poleaxe held in one hand, the fairy tale book in the other. Standing at the doorway is a pink-haired woman in a long and white dress. The portions along her collar and shoulders is black, and the sides of her head hold two asymmetrical horns pointing to the ceiling. I kneel before her, poleaxe flat against the ground and the book pressed against my chest. "Your Majesty."

A soft voice comes from the woman in front of me, and I can already envision the light smile accompanying it. "Sir Abukcheech, please rise. You don't have to engage in formalities when we are in private."

I do as she commands, though make note to bring my avid listener to her attention. "I must set an example to others in regards to decorum, Your Majesty. Present company notwithstanding, of course."

The exiled King of Kazdel turns, and her smile gets larger and warmer. "Amiya! How have you been? Was Buck good company?"

Amiya turned to the King - shouldn't it be Queen? - with her own large smile and sparkling eyes, ears standing high. "Ms. Theresa! I'm fine, Buck was just telling me his story!"

Theresa had a shocked look for a moment, and turned to me with wide eyes, before turning to the girl with an even larger smile, like that of a proud parent. "Really? You got Buck to open up?" Then, she picked Amiya up, sat down on the bed, and placed the girl on her lap. "Buck, could I join in? Please? I swear I'll pay attention."

I couldn't contain my smile at the act, but thank God for the closed helm. "My apologies, Your Majesty, but you will have to ask permission from Lady Amiya. I have orders that she is my superior for the foreseeable future." After that, I bowed to the two girls, then stood up again.

At that, Theresa redirected the questioning to the Cautus. "Amiya, can I join you in Buck's storytime, please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?" Amiya is flustered by the sudden attention and rapid fire questions, and quickly nods her head when she responds. "Yay! Thank you, Amiya! You're the sweetest girl I know~" Theresa hugs Amiya tightly, nuzzling her cheek against the girl's. Poor Cautus lights up like a bonfire.

The moment was interrupted by a beeping sound coming from Theresa. "Oh- One second." She pulls out a phone - bwuh? What? How? - from her dress, showing that she is receiving a call. "Hello? Yes, I'm with Amiya. Right now? Alright, I'll tell him. Mmhmm. Yep. Okay, thanks. Bye."

Theresa turns to me, her default smile back on her face. "Sorry Buck, the Doctor wants you for a meeting at the control room. Could I join in on the second story instead?"

I glance at the Cautus, seeing her look a little dejected. "You may. Just make time for the event, I wouldn't want to make Lady Amiya wait." Then, I knelt, eye-to-eye with Amiya, and whispered so that only she would hear. "Don't worry, little lady, I'll be back. I promise, and a knight always keeps his oaths.." Then, I stand and bow to the two girls.

I'm certain that I saw Amiya's eyes brighten for a second before I left.

…

I left the room, marching through hallways and past rooms, up stairs and through doors, until I found my way to the control center. In the room stands the doctor, along with a woman wearing a green dress, short green hair, and lynx ears. All around them, the enormous room is full of people, some working on monitors, others with radios and microphones, and some even rush around with stacks of documents in their hands. Despite the chaotic appearance of the room, everything runs with rushed efficiency.

I march up to the Doctor, angling myself away from the green woman. I've only spoken to her a few times, but it always ended with hours-long exposes about the most mundane of topics. Even in advanced age, patience is a virtue I have little of.

I salute to the man, making sure to avoid banging my poleaxe's pommel on the ground. "Doctor, you called for me?"

The Doctor turns to me. "Yes. I'm sure you noticed, but this last artillery barrage was larger and longer than any other we've experienced before." A digital map is pulled on a screen near us, "We've determined that an artillery battery set up 30 klicks south of here. We want you to lead a platoon of Sarkaz mercenaries to eliminate the battery's guns. At least two demolition experts are to be assigned to you, and three armored transports are available for you to use."

The map zooms in at a certain point, a structure in the middle of the wasteland shaped like a small square. Three sides of that square consisted of gabion walls, while the last side was blocked with sandbags and a gate to act as an entrance. Worryingly, the outpost could hold a platoon or two itself. "I advise you to strike fast and strike hard. Intercepted radio calls were able to gather that the reason the bombardment stopped was due to running out of munitions, so it is likely that reinforcements are coming on their way. Your men are stationed at the garage. Good luck, Conscript."

I saluted the Ghost of Babel, then made my way through the landship. Finally, I could swing my weapon once more!

…

I arrived at the garage, a large gray room that was home to many vehicles, many of a civilian nature, of heavy duty work, and of armored necessity. There I saw a platoon of mercs, some 40 men or so. I walk up to them, ignoring when they either tense or flinch. "Is this everyone?"

One of the men, a tall man with a sleeveless coat, showing off his scarred arms, saluted at me. A few other men stood at attention, likely also having had proper military training, but it was only a paltry few. "Yes, Sir!"

I nodded to Scars. "At ease." Then, I refocused my attention on the rest of the men. "We are going to deal with the bastards who decided to shell the landship. They're some 30 klicks away, so we'll be using the armored trucks behind you. Now, could the demolitionists step forwards?"

At that, two people stepped up. One, a short man, had a twitchiness to his movement, along with a coat with the hood pulled up and a bandana, effectively covering his face. Two ram horns were all that peeked out of his hood. The other, a short woman, had an all-black tactical outfit, along with two red horns and two strands of red hair, somewhat resembling a cockroach's antennae. She had a strange look in her eye, one that threatened to irritate me.

I ignored the feeling, focusing on the briefing and the mission. "You two will be pivotal for dealing with their guns, so you cannot ride on the same truck. Wait here, please." I turned, ignoring Roach's new smirk, and faced the rest of the platoon. "I need defenders and casters to step forwards." Thankfully, a number of ten shielders and nine casters moved. "All of you will be under my command during this operation, and will be riding in the same truck as me."

"Vanguards and marksmen, step forwards." Ten vanguards, including Scars, and eight marksmen move ahead. "I need you to form squads of ten, with five vanguards, four marksmen, and one demolitionist in each squad. You will then board one of the armored trucks. Now, get on. I'll explain the plan on the way to the objective."

Twitchy moves to join Scars' squad, leaving the other squad to the irritating Roach. Everyone mounts their truck, after which I follow my squad and bang on the back of the cab. I hear the engines rev up, take the last seat unoccupied, and maintain radio silence until we start moving.

AN: Looking back on the length, this one is kinda short for my tastes, so I may end up uploading the fourth one to give you guys more to chew on. It's one of the lengthier chapters that I have right now, so don't expect much activity from me till maybe next week.