[h3]Private Alonso Bons, Gallian Milita[/h3]

[i]Bread - three loaves, SPAM - four tins, sardines - three tins...[/i] It had been a long and restless night for Alonso, alternating between spells of crippling self-doubt and paranoid delusions of Imperial phantoms peering through the bunkhouse windows. While others slept he had checked his equipment, recounted his supplies and poured over the mission ahead again and again. Even now as he waited for the Sergeant to return, Alonso went over it once more; it was all he could do to stave off the nerves. He wasn't afraid, or so he told himself, but this was his first proper mission. Sure, he had been there at Rinneheim, even thought he might have hit one or two Imps but... but somehow that made it worse. For the first time since that frantic retreat, his rifle was loaded with real ammunition, his uniform fully decked out with combat armour. This time it would be Gallia on the offensive, meeting the enemy on Gallian terms and yet somewhere deep inside, he still felt as though he was fleeing through the streets of Rinneheim as shells landed around him, the implacable armies of the Empire close at his heels. A wave of nausea threatened to overtake him, but the sight of two figures approaching the group temporarily wiped the fear from his mind. [i]What the fuck is he wearing...?[/i]

[h3]Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia[/h3]

The Sergeant took a long, slow look from face to face as Kyo introduced himself to the squad, noting the varied reactions on display. In truth he sympathised with the suspicious ones; Kyo cut a pretty strange figure with his mixed armour and ridiculously oversized sword, but he could see the practicality of both. Well, the sword less than the breastplate, but if Meulemann had given the green light then who was he to argue? Besides, he reasoned mentally, in the urban combat they were likely to see in Vasel, a skilled swordsman might come in handy. Not so much as a good trenchgun maybe, but beggars couldn't be choosers. [b]'Alright lads, introduction's over. Plenty of time to chat on the ride north.'[/b] He cast his gaze over to the APC, smiling faintly at the prospect of using an Imperial vehicle to assault Imperial positions. [b]'Kyo aside, you've all been briefed on the mission ahead. Le Haye Sainte is about three hours drive north of here by the main roads, but we'll be taking the side roads to avoid forward Imperial scouts. Expect to reach the target at...'[/b] He checked his newly issued pocket watch. [b]'... about 1300, maybe 1330. We'll rest in shifts, one driver and two sentries at all times. Sykora, Carn and, say... Bons will be our drivers. Everyone else will take turns on watch.'[/b] He roughly knew who had passed the armoured vehicle course, but at the end of the say Harald preferred to keep his scouts on the lookout, just in case. If an enemy recon team informed the main body of Imperial troops about Squad 4's movements, then they would quickly find themselves being hunted down. [b]'Alright then boys and girls, mount up. Carn, the driver's seat if you will.'[/b]

An hour down the road and the squad was starting to settle in. Harald had taken the first rear stag duty, standing toward the back of the open-air halftrack to keep an eye on their six. Flicking another dead cigarette butt away, he half turned to the others. [b]'So. People. I'd like an honest answer; now that you've all been brought up to speed on the Vasel operation and our part in it, what are your views? Any insights or opinions?'[/b] Despite knowing full well that the enlisted ranks weren't generally encouraged to debate their orders, Harald was determined to retain at least something of his old life and a big part of being a copper was gauging public opinion. Besides, he barely knew the men and women under his command despite spending a week crawling through the dirt of boot camp together, an issue he was determined to rectify.