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They were all deciding to showboat then, comparing weapons and making promises of death and destruction. Woe be to any Imperial who they came across for the enemy would surely be boiled to death by all the hot air their little kill team was spewing. The psycho gunner was particularly obnoxious, her big gun apparently compensating for a lack of brains. Perhaps this mission was actually designed to weed out some of the dead weights, cull a few morons from the herd? 

Victoria dumped the soap shavings she had collected into her flammable brew, the animal fat the perfect coagulant to make flames stick to whatever they touched. With a rag stuffed in to serve as a stopper her homemade firebomb was complete, ready to spread fear and pain through the trenches. The Stick Worshipper was making some stupid facial expression as if to impress upon everyone how badass he was for using a shovel as a weapon, a display that seemed adorably juvenile coming from someone so small. She didn't even bother to say anything, just flashed him an evil grin as she thudded the sharpened edge of her own shovel into the table.

[color=4F97A3]"I like mine sharp, lets 'em bleed a little."[/color] Relying on sheer concussive force when you could make a perfectly functional axe was fairly stupid in her not-so humble opinion. It demonstrated a lack of resourcefulness that Victoria didn't respect. Why have one weapon when you have two? The blunt end for smacking skulls, the edges for everything else. 


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Alex kept smoking, taking his time enjoying of the few pleasures he was able to enjoy during the war. As long as the family kept sending him cigars he could keep on fighting for as long the Federation required him to. The methods and motivations of the top brass would forever be a mystery to him but it wasn't a sergeant's place to question orders unless they would put his troops in undue danger. Everyone here was competent enough to handle a little trench raid, there was no need to worry.

Well, no more need than usual. The odds were pretty good that some of them wouldn't be making it back alive but that was war. After watching his entire regiment melt into nothingness under the withering fire of entrenched machine guns Alex wasn't going to stress himself out over losing a man or two. 

What did bother him was the attitude of the other Darscen. She had been there during Isaac's card game and he was vaguely aware of her name, Mehetabel if he remembered correctly. Her insubordination was bad enough on its own but the real issue was her bloodlust. [color=thistle]"You will be doing no such thing Private."[/color] 

His cigar was now pinched tightly between two fingers as he focused on the gunner, a coldness creeping into his voice that fit the nature of command. [color=thistle]"You will treat every captured enemy with dignity and do no harm to them unless they attempt to escape. Do anything else and I will personally drag you off for court-martial. That goes for everyone else as well."[/color] 

His gaze shifted from the object of ire to the sapper to the Occie and then finally to the second sniper, holding on each for just a moment before continuing on. 

[color=thistle]"It's a damn shame that I even have to say this. If I catching you looting, abusing captives or doing anything else that can be considered depraved punishment will swift.[/color]

With the lecture over Alex went back to smoking, smoothing down nonexistent creases in his uniform. He hated playing the hardass but sometimes it had to be done.

[color=thistle]"Eh, it makes sense. You have a carbine and understand how to move in trenches and I suppose they needed to assign someone as lead officer so that's why I'm here."[/color] He deflected the engineer's pointed concern because to do anything else would be a dereliction of duty. Listen to the Captain's orders, understand the limitations of them and work around them as best as possible, that was his job.