"TENHUT" Was Paige's instant response to the call of "Officer On Deck", pulling herself to attention just in time and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.<em>Fucking Ruberts</em>, she thought to herself. But the man who strode in was anything but. As grizzled as she, bearded, wearing non-regulation adornments to his uniform.<br/><br/>This was no West Point or Sandhurst graduate. She suppressed a satisfied smirk. Things were looking up. They had an officer who might, if they were lucky, not get them all killed. She relaxed into the at-ease pose that came naturally to her now, feet slightly appart hands clasped behind her back.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Glad to see everyone in the unit is getting along Sergeant.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>"SIR, YES SIR!" She relied. How much had he seen? How long had the bastard been standing there? "EVERYONE IS GETTING ALONG FINE. SIR!" Parade ground manners were always the best way of dealing with officers.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“That being said, we should run down how this platoon will be run, so follow me.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>"SIR, YES SIR?" The slight note of confusion in her voice betrayed a slight unease at this officer. Normally, officers just assumed they were running the platoon, which left the sergeant free to actually do so. Discussion was unheard of. Kerry followed the LT into his office and took the indicated chair. She raised an eyebrow at the glass of amber liquid that was poured for her, waited until he had drunk some of his and then with a smirk, poured the entire glass full down her throat in one go.<br/><br/>Tell him something about herself not in the records? "Is this 'off the record', sir? Because if it's not, then I respectfully decline."<br/><br/>On being assured that they were in fact off the record, she shrugged. "I like upholding military traditions, Sir. Back in the Napoleonic era, when the English fought the French, they invented a fine tradition. If your unit got an officer that was trying to get them killed, that officer would usually be the first casualty in any skirmish. Of course it could never be proved, but usually the officer was a casualty of 'Friendly fire'. I like traditions like that."<br/><br/>She smirked. "There was this lieutenant", she pronounced it 'leftenant,' the British way, "in one platoon I was in. He was an arse. Trying to get us killed, trying to make a name for himself. He didn't last long. Funny, though... When they found his body, apart from the fact the Orcs had removed his head there wasn't a mark on him. When they found his head it had a single bullet hole right between his eyes!"<br/><br/>She raised an eyebrow, wondering if the LT would get the significance - Orcs didn't use bullets.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Pat chuckled and was about to comment on Sarah's PES status, when the Sergeant intervened. He whistled softly, and grinned at the point-man, then chuckled at the comment from the top bunk.<br/><br/>All bets were suddenly off though as the platoon commander put in his appearance and took the sergeant away for a pow-wow of some sort. "PES, huh, well dat's jost grand, some o' moi ancestors were convicted terrorists, foitin' off de damn British. Ye can probably tell Oi'm from De Emerald World. The entire place has PES status!"<br/><br/>He chuckled at her comment. "Hon, I figure it means we all sleep with everyone and no-one. She has a t'ing wi the big lass in de corner, d'ye see that? Dey go back a ways if ye ask me. She'll do whatever the fook she wants, as long as the LT don't notice, and what taht says to me is we do whatever the fook we want as long as she don't notice!"