Subj: [ffml] [MW] Ace up the Sleeve
Date: 00-08-01 06:22:56 EDT
From: skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to: ffml@egroups.com
To: ffml@egroups.com
"She was vehement in demanding to speak with you, sir," said Jayel. "But I
could not convince her in any way of speaking to me. Even when I told her my
rank was a Captain. She mentioned something about 'saving face.'"
Tim sighed.
Tim and his top officers were sitting in the command tent on stools, Jayel
standing and pacing about as he told of how Nighthawk had come to report her
avariel's success that day. To Tim's orders, the nearest available officer
of lieutenant or higher answered Nighthawk's summons, since she for some
reason remained outside of the camp.
The movement of Tim's division (which was made up of three battalions,
Ricca commanding the cavalry battalion, Jayel the infantry battalion, and
Clive commanding those soldiers who had not volunteered to learn to be
knights or dragoons) had been fast towards the road that connected Doma city
with Southvale. Now, Tim's men were moving north, toward's Doma city. They
would soon be in sight of the city. Each day, the division broke camp and
marched several hours, the cavalry sweeping the land, the knights
eliminating all pockets of resistance. They would then stop two hours before
dusk and set up camp, digging a trench and palisade in a large square, and
erecting their tents within.
When Nighthawk had visited the camp, she had remained at the bridge
entrance, not entering even though the men invited her in.
"Sir, do you think the avariel have turned on us?" asked Clive.
Tim sighed. "No. They are here for a purpose. That much is very clear.
They came to stop the moogles. Because, according to Nighthawk, if the
moogles hold Doma, they will disrupt a cosmic balance. And in that, they may
even invade her homeworld.
"I know, it seems far-fetched to believe. But think about the stories of
the espers, and the alternate world they came from. It could be true."
The men were silent. Jayel poured himself a drink.
"We are not the enemies of the avariel, remember that. They are our
allies, and we shall not botch this up by instigating a conflict with them.
I know they are strange and proceed to get stranger by the day, but we
cannot affect that. So what if they want to skin moogles and wear their
hides, let them. If it makes them feel that much more powerful, so be it.
But do not disrespect or ridicule them. Say nothing, only cordial
invitations. If Nighthawk or one of her Captains arrives again, invite them
in. If they demand to speak with me, then get me."
"And if they won't enter the camp but want you without to strike you down,
sir?" asked Evan. His brow furrowed in concern.
"It won't happen," said Tim. "I have a plan to counteract that."
On cue, a soldier asked permission to enter. He was given permission and
strode in.
A short, wiry man stood before the assembled men and saluted. He had short
black hair, slightly squinted eyes, and tan skin. He appeared muscular and
firm, without a hint of body fat.
"Corporeal Freder reporting as ordered, sir," said the man.
"At ease, Corporeal," said Tim, returning the salute. "How are you doing?"
"Well, sir. Thank you, sir."
"Good, good," said Tim, studying the man. "How has your pet project been
going, Freder?"
The man relaxed even more and looked Tim in the eyes. "Extremely well,
sir. I am practicing with my crossbow everyday and becoming a very good
shot. And I have been practicing my stealth whenever I get a chance."
"Excellent," said Tim. "How good are you at sneaking about?"
The man reached into a pocket and pulled out a gold cord and showed it to
Tim. Tim reached out and examined it. He then looked to his right shoulder.
He returned his gaze to Freder, a broad grin evident.
"Very good, Freder," said Tim. The man returned the smile. "I'm surprised.
I have been wearing this uniform for three days straight."
"Yes, sir," said Freder. "And last night you did not take off your boots
when you slept on your cot."
Jayel chuckled lightly, Evan letting out a burst of laughter. Clive looked
perplexed.
"And your killing abilities?" asked Tim.
"The quartermaster is amazed at how I can kill so many animals in so many
different ways. I can now snap the necks of goats with relative ease."
Tim nodded. "So do you consider yourself fully trained?"
Freder shrugged. "Taking the advice and training prescribed by yourself
and the others, sir, I believe I have learned all I can in this unit. To
further my training, I would likely have to seek some trained masters. But
as for am I ready to be deployed, I would say so, sir."
"Good," said Tim. He stood up and stared Freder straight in the eyes.
"Then it is time we used you. As of this moment, I am relieving you of
command of your squad and placing you on special assignment. You shall be a
special agent in the name of the King.
"Your duty will be to scout and observe everything and anything of the
enemy and their intentions. You will try to discover any plots, schemes, or
diversions they may use against us. And in particular, if they try to send
assassins after our officers." Tim paused. "In particular, me."
Everyone was silent.
"What I am about to tell you does not leave this tent, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Captain Nighthawk of the Avariels threatened my life the other night. She
is apparently is so fed up with my ability to command her people that she
criticized my ability, King Cyan's throne, and even threatened my life. Part
of your assignment will be to ensure that she, or one of her flight leaders,
fails in any attempt to take my life. She was sketchy, but apparently her
flight captains may take it as a coup to assasinate me and to glorify this
to Nighthawk. If such is the case, then you must stop them by any means
necessary. I do not want to be a trophy piece for some winged elf's belt
ornaments."
Freder nodded, taking in the information. He was a little stunned at what
he was hearing, since the common soldier was not made aware of what was
going on with the avariel.
"Also part of your assignment will be this letter of marque, and these
letters of permission." Tim handed him some packets. "They grant you full
immuninity and passing of lines in our sectors, and will allow you to learn
and gain all information from any officer you encounter. Also, you will be
given the power to command a brigade, essentially making you equal to a
lieutenant. Although the lieutenant may accompany you, he must obey your
orders. This will permit you to take decisive and quick action without
waiting for higher authority. Do you understand what this means?"
"Yes, sir. I do." Freder swallowed.
"I want you to do what you can. Don't get yourself killed. And find out
what the enemy is doing. Something in my gut is telling me something big is
up. And Nighthawk's threat made me realize that I am a valuable part of the
Doman army. Although I don't like to admit it, if I die, this unit could not
be as effective. I am needed to make it a top notch fighting force."
Freder look Tim in the eyes and nodded. "Aye, sir."
Tim took a deep breath. He shook hands with Freder. "Get your gear and
tell your squad you are on special assignment. Your sergeant will have a
replacement by the morning. You can set out whenever you want. And if
possible, let me know what is going on at all times. I trust myself to take
care of any major problems rather then some other Colonel or even Captain.
Good luck, and may the fates be with you."
"Thank you, sir. I promise to be a ninja assasin as great as Shadow some
day."
Tim chuckled. "I almost doubt that. Shadow, as the legend goes, was strong
enough to defeat even the goddesses of magic. And he is supposedly immortal
now. In my mercenary days, I had been around places where his 'handiwork'
had supposedly been used, and more then one of my employers feared Shadow
coming into his bedroom and killing him where he slept. If you survive this
war, Freder, I will see that your training continues, and maybe even help
institutionalize ninja assasins into the Doman military."
Both Tim and Freder grinned slightly. Saluting again, Freder departed,
silently.
"Colonel Tim, sir," said Clive, his face betraying startlement. "I can't
believe you trained your own ninja. I mean... does General Wang know about
this?"
Tim shook his head as he poured himself some wine. "No, and I have my
reasons for not telling him."
"Such as, sir?" Clive seemed upset.
"Such as, a ninja works best when no one knows he is there. We are the
only men who know of Freder's role and existance. Lieutenants who encounter
Freder are ordered to remain silent on his existance or activities."
"But why sir?"
Tim stared at Clive. "My gut feeling. Also, I doubt Wang would let me use
Freder. I am doing what I deem is best for Doma."
"But sir! What you are doing is using us as your own personal army!" Clive
cried aloud, standing up and looking at the others.
"Clive, what do you think Tim's Dragons is?" said Tim. His tone even and
firm. "It is my personal fighting force, sanctioned by General Wang and King
Cyan himself, in our campaign to destroy the moogle horde. The oath of
officers states that an officer shall take all and any means necessary to
serve his country to the fullest. Using an ninja that is loyal to Doma, not
employed through money, mind you, is the best means of ensuring Doma's
victory."
Clive was flabbergasted. He stared at Tim, his features betraying
disbelief. Finally, he eased and returned to his seat, gulping down some
wine.
"Besides, could I possibly explain to Wang how the avariel are almost on
belligerent terms with us? No. So using Freder to spy or at least observer
the avariel, and to make sure they don't try to frag me, is what I consider
good reason. I will die for Doma, Clive. But I will not die at the hands of
an ally."
Clive was silent, staring at the ground.
"Do I have your promise not to spread this information about Freder,
Captain Clive?"
Clive spoke sternly. "Yes, sir."
Tim studied him a moment, then returned to his seat.
"One last thing, gentlemen," said Tim, sipping his wine. "I want you to
gather your sergeants and have them do this: Individually approach each of
the soldiers in their command and take him aside and speak to him. In that
speech, question how he feels, if he is ready to continue the campaign, and
if he has any doubts. Then instruct the soldier that if he begins to doubt
his abilities, such as during an attack, or before a battle, to tell
himself, in his mind, to start chanting this phrase, 'I am immortal.'
"The purpose of this is to have the sergeant make it appear that he is
having a personal talk with his soldiers, and letting them know that he is
looking out for them. Also, this will help to dissuade any fears in our
inevitable conflict at Doma City. The chant, quite simply, is a mantra. If a
soldier thinks to himself that he is immortal before a battle, he will be
calm and collected during a battle, for he will think he cannot be struck
down. A soldier will be more deadlier and more focused, and I want our men
focused.
"We may have cleared the moogle forces, and they may all be fleeing before
us in these small groups, but there is still a large army to the south,
waiting for something, perhaps when we engage Doma City, and I want every
man available. No unnecessary deaths, and no foul ups. I want our soldiers
read and able to strike down the moogles with indiscriminate prejudice."
"Yes, sir," said the officers. They saluted and departed.
Tim sat on his stool and sipped his wine. "I am immortal.... I am
immortal.... I am immortal.... I cannot be stopped...," he softly said.
--Sky
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Date: Tue, 01 Aug 2000 03:22:17 PDT
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Subject: [ffml] [MW] Ace up the Sleeve
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