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“So… run your issue by me again,” Kal’tsit sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as Folinic fidgeted awkwardly in her seat. On the desk between the two sat the files for the recently hired operators - all members of the defunct “Tempest Platoons” who had fled to Kjerag.
“I don’t think this is a good idea!” That just earned the assistant another sigh from the ageing CEO.
“You’ve made that perfectly clear, Louisa.” Kal’tsit shuffled the files around, neatening them before placing the now straightened pile back down. What you haven’t properly explained is why you’re so opposed to these… individuals’ onboardings.”
“That should be obvious!” Kal’tsit raised a brow, and after a moment of collecting herself, Folinic continued. “The Tempest Platoon have a… history. You should know this! They just being here paints a target on our entire company that isn’t worth whatever ‘experience’ they could bring! Not to mention how they could affect our internal stability-”
Kal’tsit cut her off with a silent raise of her hand. She exhaled softly.
“To answer your first concern, it isn’t the Platoons’ experience that prompted me to onboard them.”
“Huh?”
“You’re aware the Tempest Platoons fled into Kjerag, correct?” Folinic hesitantly nodded, feeling like a schoolchild amid a particularly painful lecture. “Well, they seem to have worked out some deal with the Silverash family. Part of our agreement to supply Oripathy medicine to them has been onboarding these operators under a PMC agreement as a form of quid pro quo. Why they wanted that as partial payment, I do not know, but it is there in the contract,” Kal’tsit paused, sipping her coffee.
“At the very least, it provides a cover story. Any state with a problem with the Platoons will, at the least, turn a blind eye to soldiers of fortune. So long as they don’t make any extra trouble, that is.”
Folinic still didn’t look entirely convinced but stayed quiet. After all, this WAS her mentor, and she’d provided plenty enough reasoning to refute her worries-
“Now, your second concern,” Kal’tsit glare could have stopped a raging Cautelotaur. “Do you mind elaborating how exactly you think these individuals might threaten ‘internal stability’, as you put it?”
“Ah, well, that’s… uh…” Folinic’s fidgeting only became more and more erratic as she began to stutter, trying to figure out a way to escape her current predicament. Already bored of it, Kal’tsit once again reshuffled, placing a different file at the top of the pile. Folinic paused, looking down.
Rita Skamandros.
“Is this one in particular a worry, Louisa?”
…
“...I see,” Kal’tsit stood, walking to the counter nearby to make herself another coffee. “I understand your concern, Louisa. But I can assure you, Rita will not be an issue.”
“But-” Kal’tsit once again held up a hand to signal being unfinished, taking a moment to sip her new coffee.
“Ah, that’s perfect. Now, as I was saying, I understand your concern. I will admit the Skamandros family has a… storied history with many of former Victoria’s many enemies. I don’t need to remind you I was there to witness a lot of them. However, that reflects little on Rita’s current status - we have already spoken, and she holds no animosity to the people of Gaul, nor those of any other nation. In her own words, ‘The foundation of my platoon lies in the co-operation of former enemies of every stripe. Why would I hold any animosity toward those who have yet to do me wrong?’ So I don’t believe we will have any issues with her, for now. And besides - I recall Lucia Skamandros being a fine soldier. I would hate to pass the chance to see how her modern stock is faring.”
“But. What about the operators we already have?”
“Hmm,” Kal’tsit took another swig. “Whilst I can’t deny there certainly are some operators here who might have issues with her, I can’t imagine any would be so rash as to immediately vent any frustrations they may have with her family-”
“SKAMANDROS AND MANFRED ARE FIGHTING IN THE CAFETERIA!”
“WHAT!?”
“Oh wow, you two really do sound similar,” Warfarin shook her head, holding the door she’d nearly slammed off its hinges open. “Wait, that’s not important! The two are fighting!”
“What do you mean?” Kal’tsit rushed past both of the medics, storming down the corridor toward the cafeteria, both Warfarin and Folinic close behind.
“I heard some operators talking about it! They said the two were wrestling there!”
Kal’tsit cursed, picking up the pace. She’d expected complications with this recent hiring, but she’d glossed over them due to the necessity of the contract they’d allowed. How could she have expected them to rear up this quickly?
As the trio drew nearer, they could hear shouts and jeers echoing from the cafeteria, bouncing across the walls. Kal’tsit picked up the pace even more, seeing the doors in sight. She steeled herself, ready to break up whatever brawl could have begun, as she pushed open the doors-
…
…
…
“What the fuck-”
Amid the cafeteria, a large crowd sat on either side of a table. Rita and Manfred were hunched over either side, straining as each grasped the other’s hand.
“What… is happening…” Folinic was entirely baffled. An onlooker next to the trio perked up, leaning in.
“They’re having an arm wrestling match. They’ve been like that for about twenty minutes now.”
“Arm… wrestling…”
Warfarin managed to pale even further at the venom dripping from Kal’tsit’s tongue.
“You’re living up to your family’s reputation, White Wolf,” Manfred grinned, arm straining against the table.
“Please,” Rita was similar as a feline reached over, wiping sweat from her forehead before it could get in her eye. “I wouldn’t need my family’s blood to beat you.”
“Oh? And yet here we still are.”
“Right,” Kal’tsit stepped forward with a huff, done with this nonsense. “What do you two think you’re doing!”
The sound of the CEO’s voice instilled an instinctive fight or flight response in every operator who had spent enough time on Rhodes Island to know what it meant. Immediately, almost every voice in the cafeteria quieted as operators froze in spot, like deer in headlights.
Rita, however, was not yet a long-term operator of Rhodes Island. She had not yet built up this instinctive fear of the CEO’s mere presence being announced. And, as she felt Manfred’s strength lapse, she took her chance. The entirety of the White Wolf lineage’s strength pushed against no resistance as Manfred’s body was plunged through the table between them. First, the table buckled, and then the sound of plastic cracking echoed through the cafeteria as Manfred was quite literally thrown through the table, slamming into the floor. Rita immediately leapt, yelling in excitement at her victory.
“Victoria still has-” It was at that moment she noticed the stunned silence around her as the overwhelming pressure of a pair of eyes bearing down on her ran through her core. Shakily, her head turned, body still in victory pose as Kal’tsit glared murder at her.
…
…
“Mon3tr.”