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SOE Briefing: T-2.5 hours


"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Ashford Bomber Base." The individual speaking would normally be a rather imposing figure, but it was hard for any normal individual to seem intimidating to stand users. Nonetheless, Brigadier General Carmond oozed an aura of authority, a bristling moustache completing his resoundly military look. One hand would come up to stroke his chin as he examined the crowd, before continuing onwards. "Normally, you would be being loaded into a Lancaster Bomber for a paradrop into France, but today we have a special delivery for the fine folks in France." He would turn and point towards a much smaller plane. In fact, it barely looked like it could hold two individuals, let alone six or seven.

"Inside that plane are vital medical supplies for a resistance cell located near Orléans. Due to the fragility of these supplies, high command has deemed them far too valuable to drop from the air. Instead, the pilots will be making a landing on French soil. As some of your persons do not have paratrooper wings, you will also be on this plane." He would bring his hand down from his moustache to behind his back, raising his other hand as he did so.

"I will not lie to you. This is a tricky exercise. The whole transferal must take no longer than two minutes, and even that short period of time may bring the Wermacht down onto your heads. If this happens, your mission will be doomed and we will be forced to assume you all MIA." He did not shy away from the hard truths. As powerful as these individuals supposedly were, the boche had their new superweapons on their side... And even if they did pull through, it was likely the entirety of the Orléans resistance cell capable of communication and coordination with London would be destroyed.

"Once down in France, you will rest the night with the resistance, and then proceed northwards, towards Paris." He would turn to an easel by his side and lift up a blank sheet of paper, revealing a map of France beneath it, one side partitioned off and stamped with a large 'Vichy.' He indicated first towards Orléans, and then towards Paris. "Preferably, you will avoid roads, but I'm sure I don't need to tell you how to do your job. Once in Paris, rendevouz with the Parisian resistance. They will outfit you for your trip into the Eagle's Nest." He would point towards the French-German border.

"Once you cross the border to Germany, we will have no further contact with each other. Ladies and gentlemen." The man stood up straighter- a remarkable feat considering his back was remarkably ruler-like. "What you are undertaking is a tremendous and thankless task. The files regarding this case will be locked deep within the SOE, likely never to be seen again in your lifetimes. Yet, it will be the most vital operation ever to take place in this great global conflict. I, and every man, woman and child in all the free nations of the world thank you for what you are about to do." He would incline his head slightly, then straighten it back up and salute.

"The plane will be leaving in ten minutes. Make ready for its departure, and godspeed."
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Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka


It was a red letter day. Finally, things were about to crack off. One of the good things about being funded by the Speedwagon foundation was that Chloe could wear whatever she wanted, instead of some stuffy, extra uniform. Something Chloe made sure to take full advantage of. A short black leather jacket with long sleeves over a white crop top was what Chloe usually preffered to wear. It showed off the tattoo of a japanese cherry blossom tree that rode up the left side of her midriff. Her long black hair was tied into a high ponytail that drifted lazily downward toward her shoulder blades. Skinny jeans that were riding fashionably low on her hips were tucked into black leather boots that came up just beneath her knees. The most important part of her look, though, was the permanent cheeky smirk on her face, as if she was in on some sort of joke everyone else missed. The face this grin was engraved upon was a mixed race one. Her skin was the lightest of browns, her chin was sharp and her nose was on the longer side, but her head was a little wide and her eyes were big and round. Quite literally a wide-eyed recruit, through her brightness seemed to come from a place of stubborness rather than naivete.

Listening to the General talk was important. Their mission was important. Medicine for the children and the soldiers, or the child soldiers if need be. Jerry was on the move and someone needed to teach him a lesson. Bellends thought they could take over the world, well, not on Chloe's watch! Chloe stood straight and respectfully, though every once in a while she would fidget, slacken, or relax. It would be easy to tell the young woman wouldn't last a month in boot camp, which, well, she didn't. Fortunately she found a different calling and still got the opportunity to bash some people who really deserved it. Nothing better than a well-deserved ass kicking. Usually a bird like herself would be stuck in some triage tent somewhere, the closest she ever got to battle would be the distant sounds of artillery shells. Even that was better than nothing for Chloe, though her bedside manner could probably use some help. Fortunately, she had a special talent not even the brickheads up high could ignore. A Stand, they called it. Chloe wasn't exactly sure of the specifics, but she had a magic imaginary friend that could beat the shit out of anyone she wanted. Not everyone had one, so Chloe counted herself lucky. She had always had it in some capacity, she was told, but it was only until a few years ago where her friend had started to make herself apparent to Chloe. Either way, using her friend felt as natural to Chloe as lifting a finger, breathing, blinking, and pub crawling. As in, second nature. Couldn't live without it.

Her dark brown eyes did a once-over on the little plane they were supposed to ride in. Guess she wasn't going to be smoking on the way over, would have to keep the fags in her pocket. Would be rude to fill up the three feet space on the inside with ash.

"S'a bit small, innit." Chloe remarked, tipping her head toward the plane. Well, she'd rather not be stuck in the middle. A window seat would be preferable. The people around her were a curious bunch, and she was looking forward to getting to know them. Afterall, they were to be comrades. With a skip in her first step she began to make her way over to their ride. Opening the door she hopped inside and scooted all the way over to the far window seat, giving an encouraging pat to the empty space next to her.

"Well, doesn't matter. Name's Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka. Call me Anything you Want, but Chloe's easier to say." She introduced herself easily and confidently with a smile. Her voice had a hint of scratchyness to it, and it was lower than one would expect.till, it had somewhat of a singsong quality to it. Her London accent was also impossible to ignore, though there was another accent in there that was hard to identify, one that was just bubbling beneath the surface of her words. Pressing herself against the far window she stretched her left arm over the back of of the seat. She was looking forward to this. Fear and anxiety were present, but together they combined to make a kind of excitement. Plus, Chloe wasn't one who was easily spooked. Not a chance in Hell she would pass up an opportunity like this. They'd be drinking the finest Parisian wine in no time.
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