Okay, so, I had no idea what this would turn into when I started writing. It was going to be gen and funny, but Mal started flirting with Polly and it was all downhill from there
( Read more... )
The HQ building in the Capital, an imposing stone structure on the outside, was really a maze of cubby-hole offices and make-shift cubicles once you got through the doors. In one of the larger offices -- it even had a window in one crumbling wall -- a certain sergeant was answering a summons.
"Good morning, Sergeant," said the general. A name surfaced in Polly's memory... General Flannel... That was it... Polly saluted, smartly. "Sir. You wanted to see me sir?" "I did, Sergeant." The general looked up from his (her?) paperwork. "I understand that it's to you that we owe our recent victory against Solvania." Here he raised his eyebrows, clearly expecting Polly to comment. "Thank you sir. But it was mostly due to my squad. I just made sure we all got out, sir." "Your modesty, while admirable, is unnecessary, Sergeant." He glanced at his notes again, and looked up with a smile. "It is due to this victory that I have the pleasure of offering you a promotion. As of this April, you will be Lieutenant Perks of the tenth foot." Polly blinked, opening and shutting her mouth. "I -- thank you sir," she said, surprised. But... "But I may have to turn it down." "Turn it down? Are you quite mad, Sergeant?" "No. Sir. With respect, it is because I am not mad that I may have to turn it down." The general cocked an eyebrow. "Do explain yourself, why don't you." "Thank you, sir. I can only accept this promotion if my corporal, Maladict, is made my sergeant." "Really?" She nodded, firmly, hoping she wasn't shooting herself in the foot, but certain that this was the only way she could go. "I understand that your corporal is also a friend of yours, yes?" "Yes sir. We joined up together, sir." Well, that was true enough after a fashion. "But he's more than that, sir." The general's eyes widened. "I beg you pardon?" "No, sir. Not like that, sir. You must be joking. Sir. What I mean is that... the corporal possesses a certain charm that, even as a sergeant, would mean the recruits would open up to her. Privates talk to each other, sir. But they tend not to talk to R-- Officers," she saw the general's mouth quirk at her slip. Perhaps he'd started out as a private and worked his way up, too. "That victory was due to my squad, sir. If I hadn't been able to talk with them, I wouldn't have known their strengths. I wouldn't have had any idea that Private Svitz -- who would make a good Corporal, if you don't mind my saying, sir -- was as quick with her head and her tongue as with her sword, or that private Sklotz is as good with a needle as any Igor, if I hadn't had some sort of a connection with them. If I hadn't known those things about them, the attack could have been a complete botch-up, sir. "I need to maintain that connection with the men, sir. If I become an officer, I loose that. But if my sergeant is, as you say, a friend... he'd talk to me, sir. And the men would talk to him. I need him next to me, sir." The general regarded her, considering. "Well," he said, eventually, glancing at his notes once more. "The corporal is up for promotion... and you do make a compelling arguement. I expect it can be done." "Thank you sir!" She tried to hide her smile. "With that in mind, sir, I will gladly accept your promotion!" "Excellent, sergeant. That will be all. -- Oh, wait. There's this as well." The general handed over a pasteboard oblong. "You're expected to turn up, understood?" "Of course sir." "Dismissed." Polly saluted again, and marched smartly out of the office. She looked at the pasteboard in her hand. The words Regimental Victory Ball were printed in ornate script along the top. Oh, hell! she thought. This is the last thing I need.
It doesn't fully go with my continuity and I'm not sure how it goes with yours, but that doesn't mean I don't like it. And this convergence, however confusing, still makes one feel all fluffy inside.
It doesn't go with yours. It kinda works with mine. Enough, anyway. I can work with it. ;-)
It's a thing I do. If I like something from someone elses MR Ficverse enough, I'll quietly work it into my own. ;-) (Like Mal's home/prison castle being above Munz. That came from that "Ennuie" (sp) story on Trumpets. I just thought it fit, and made sense, and sorted out how Mal ended up at the same ferry as Polly did. :-)
The HQ building in the Capital, an imposing stone structure on the outside, was really a maze of cubby-hole offices and make-shift cubicles once you got through the doors.
In one of the larger offices -- it even had a window in one crumbling wall -- a certain sergeant was answering a summons.
"Good morning, Sergeant," said the general. A name surfaced in Polly's memory... General Flannel... That was it... Polly saluted, smartly.
"Sir. You wanted to see me sir?"
"I did, Sergeant." The general looked up from his (her?) paperwork. "I understand that it's to you that we owe our recent victory against Solvania." Here he raised his eyebrows, clearly expecting Polly to comment.
"Thank you sir. But it was mostly due to my squad. I just made sure we all got out, sir."
"Your modesty, while admirable, is unnecessary, Sergeant." He glanced at his notes again, and looked up with a smile. "It is due to this victory that I have the pleasure of offering you a promotion. As of this April, you will be Lieutenant Perks of the tenth foot."
Polly blinked, opening and shutting her mouth.
"I -- thank you sir," she said, surprised. But... "But I may have to turn it down."
"Turn it down? Are you quite mad, Sergeant?"
"No. Sir. With respect, it is because I am not mad that I may have to turn it down."
The general cocked an eyebrow. "Do explain yourself, why don't you."
"Thank you, sir. I can only accept this promotion if my corporal, Maladict, is made my sergeant."
"Really?"
She nodded, firmly, hoping she wasn't shooting herself in the foot, but certain that this was the only way she could go.
"I understand that your corporal is also a friend of yours, yes?"
"Yes sir. We joined up together, sir." Well, that was true enough after a fashion. "But he's more than that, sir."
The general's eyes widened. "I beg you pardon?"
"No, sir. Not like that, sir. You must be joking. Sir. What I mean is that... the corporal possesses a certain charm that, even as a sergeant, would mean the recruits would open up to her. Privates talk to each other, sir. But they tend not to talk to R-- Officers," she saw the general's mouth quirk at her slip. Perhaps he'd started out as a private and worked his way up, too.
"That victory was due to my squad, sir. If I hadn't been able to talk with them, I wouldn't have known their strengths. I wouldn't have had any idea that Private Svitz -- who would make a good Corporal, if you don't mind my saying, sir -- was as quick with her head and her tongue as with her sword, or that private Sklotz is as good with a needle as any Igor, if I hadn't had some sort of a connection with them. If I hadn't known those things about them, the attack could have been a complete botch-up, sir.
"I need to maintain that connection with the men, sir. If I become an officer, I loose that. But if my sergeant is, as you say, a friend... he'd talk to me, sir. And the men would talk to him. I need him next to me, sir."
The general regarded her, considering.
"Well," he said, eventually, glancing at his notes once more. "The corporal is up for promotion... and you do make a compelling arguement. I expect it can be done."
"Thank you sir!" She tried to hide her smile. "With that in mind, sir, I will gladly accept your promotion!"
"Excellent, sergeant. That will be all. -- Oh, wait. There's this as well." The general handed over a pasteboard oblong. "You're expected to turn up, understood?"
"Of course sir."
"Dismissed."
Polly saluted again, and marched smartly out of the office. She looked at the pasteboard in her hand. The words Regimental Victory Ball were printed in ornate script along the top.
Oh, hell! she thought. This is the last thing I need.
*****
What say-you? :-)
Reply
Bugger.
Oh, well. It's not like it's the only bit that needs fixing...
Reply
Reply
Reply
It doesn't fully go with my continuity and I'm not sure how it goes with yours, but that doesn't mean I don't like it. And this convergence, however confusing, still makes one feel all fluffy inside.
Reply
It doesn't go with yours.
It kinda works with mine. Enough, anyway. I can work with it. ;-)
It's a thing I do.
If I like something from someone elses MR Ficverse enough, I'll quietly work it into my own. ;-) (Like Mal's home/prison castle being above Munz. That came from that "Ennuie" (sp) story on Trumpets. I just thought it fit, and made sense, and sorted out how Mal ended up at the same ferry as Polly did. :-)
Reply
Leave a comment