“It’s a pity that we never got around to seeing Thunderbolt Platoon as a reserve force, but this battle has proven that the concept of mobile arms is tactically superior to that of the traditional shield wall.” Campmaster Pauline folded her arms. “Only shields and defensive artefacts can hold out against such manoeuvres, but in a field battle, there’s not going to be much of them going around.”
The taskforce had returned to Camp Napoleon in high spirits, with a few thousand sets of armour and weapons following closely behind in the convoy. Upon their return,
“Thunderbolt’s performance against Tango Three was excellent too,” Warmaster Eventide added on. “Even against an enemy without any means of retaliation, Thunderbolt was numerically inferior by an entire order of magnitude. A complete annihilation under these circumstances speaks volumes about the discipline of Thunderbolt Platoon, even if they had such an advantage.”
“Thank you for your words, Warmaster.” Colonel Marie nodded in return. “Of course, these are extenuating circumstances, and against the regular forces of the human South, the probability of such a clean victory is…well, zero.”
“You don’t mince words, do you, colonel?” The Warmaster laughed heartily. “Still, it doesn’t change the fact that you had an overwhelming victory against a force numerically superior against your own. Your call to intercept the retreating enemy was an inspired one too.”
The small group exchanged a few more words. Aziz, who was observing the proceedings from the back of the tent, pricked up his ears as they began to confer in a lowered voice. He was quite sure that they were cooking up some new plan, however. The captain shook his head and left the tent, his destination the canteen of Camp Napoleon, where the men and women of Thunderbolt Platoon was toasting their hearts out.
They had to be happy, after that stupendous performance. The captain smiled and walked over to join them. The platoon roared as Captain Aziz approached, and the entire canteen followed suit. He couldn’t help but feel a bit disconcerted at the fact that none of them felt any guilt at what essentially amounted to an utter massacre of other people.
I can see why, though. We’ve been calling them bandits, and all the negative connotations that come with it. It’s a lot easier to roll with this term than “desperate refugees”, after all. And the fact that they were armed made them less of a burden when they died.
And most importantly, the soldiers of Camp Napoleon rarely engaged in close combat, in situations where deaths would occur. Before Marie and I came, not much killing was done, and Camp Napoleon hadn’t shifted to a full war footing yet. There’s far less stress when shooting someone to death from afar, after all.
The captain shoved these thoughts into a deeper part of his head, where his subconscious would presumably do something and find a miraculous solution to this problem in the making, and sat down at a space created by the other members of Thunderbolt.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Sir, sir, where’s Colonel Marie? Why isn’t she with you? Is the Warmaster scolding her because we didn’t do well?”
“Did we not do well enough, sir? Is she getting scolded? But I’m quite sure out performance was outstanding!”
“Our platoon commander’s getting chewed out unjustly? We can’t take this lying down! Assemble! Take the torches and burn down the tents!”
Aziz did a double take as a particularly ominous sentence made its way into his ear, and the captain stood up hurriedly. “Calm down! Colonel Marie is getting praised rather, so put down that damn torch and continue with your feasting!”
A collective sigh went around the assembled bunch, who had started to assemble on their own accord. It took a few more words from Aziz before they broke up and returned to their original seats, where their abandoned food sat sadly on the plates. The others who had participated in the operation heaved a sigh as well, and Captain Aziz could almost see them making a mental note to not hit on the attractive Colonel Marie if they ever met her.
It was a good choice, one that would probably contribute to their longevity. Still, to think that Thunderbolt Platoon is that devoted to her…just how did she train them? I don’t think our methods differ much, right?
The captain couldn’t help but feel somewhat anxious at that thought. If something happened to the colonel during a battle, the entire platoon might start seeing red all of the sudden. Aziz couldn’t help but shudder when he arrived at this conclusion.
Forcing himself back down on a wooden bench, the captain poured out a cup of wine for himself, and chugged it down without pausing. The sour warmth flooded his throat, clearing his mind somewhat as the people around him took his action as a wordless challenge.
Within seconds, men and women alike were downing full mugs of wine at once, their face growing more and more tipsy by the second. By the next minute, everyone around the captain were singing slurred songs, and by the third, all of them were slumped over some tables and chairs.
A veritable cacophony of snores dominated the canteen, drawing stares from the other infantry soldiers who didn’t take part in the bandit subjugation. Captain Aziz turned his head jerkily as he surveyed the scene. He wasn’t too sure whether he should laugh or cry, but he was definitely mortified. Before the other soldiers could get close, he rolled off his seat and snuck out of the canteen.
He definitely didn’t want to be associated with this bunch of idiots. The captain snuck through a fresh crowd of soldiers headed for lunch, shimmied up a tree, and hid amongst the branches.
Aziz was just in time too. Warmaster Eventide, Campmaster Pauline and Colonel Marie had just left the command tent, and were also heading towards the canteen. The captain suppressed an urge to gloat at the unfortunate drunks, harnessing the entirety of his stealth capabilities as the trio passed underneath the tree he was hiding on.
And as they stepped into the canteen, an aural explosion shook the camp itself. The canteen shuddered as Colonel Marie, a Knight, unleashed her cultivation base and directed her might at the drunken soldiers. The captain, who was observing the entire farce atop the tree, shook with the branches, and smiled wickedly as the colonel’s voice began to berate and yell at everyone present.
A little petty payback, if nothing else. The captain relaxed and looked at the blue skies, hiding from everyone else until lunchtime was over. This afternoon’s training was going to be…interesting.