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The Plymouth Lane was a long way from home.

She had arrived in the early morning, assigned to a new commanding officer far from Ypern and the constant fighting from Deventer to Tereschelling. There was an unease in her bones as she thought about it. If she was so successful and vital to the war effort why was she reassigned? She was a daughter of Ypern and her fight was [i]in[/i] Ypern. It didn’t make sense to be reassigned. How many brothers and sisters of her people had she buried after fighting trench to abhorrent trench? She belonged pushing the despicable imperials out of their holes and putting them up on pikes. Yet she was here waiting for orders.

She had her back pressed against a nearby barrier in one of the observation posts, lamenting her thoughts as people began chattering.

They spoke of some kind of technical wizardry. One of them, Elliot, caught her eye for a moment as she kept herself at the ready and on post. Her shift was hours from being over, though she supposed she should have gotten rest when she arrived but her own stubbornness refused to do so. Not like she could’ve gotten rest, anyway. Sleeping after the last burial had been difficult and that was before the inevitable reassignment far from her countrymen. She chose not to respond to the group, not even a greeting. For the time being she just looked at them with a weary smile before keeping her attention focused on anything suspicious. Her husband had been good with the sort of things these men were. Mechanics of things and how things worked. Lubna by all comparison was an idiot. The only thing she was good at was shooting and staying alive. 

The air smelled raw. It would not stay peaceful for long. She could feel it in her bones.




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