Chapter Text
A cease fire was not something Vanessa Kimball thought she would have to call. If one of her soldiers had told her an hour earlier, or even a month earlier, that she would have a ceasefire with General Doyle of the Federal Army than she would have ordered them to be taken to the medical tent.
As a leader, she was supposed to taken in everything as an option. That’s what she did best and what made her the best candidate for the job that she filled well. She could take changes in the plans easily and work them to her advantage because she expected them.
The cease fire was a curve ball that came out of the depths of the seventh layer of hell but she worked with it and pitched it back with as much force as it gave.
This force included listening, working, and organizing with Doyle in a split second while she ran around the open base with orders of her own. It also included getting down and dirty where Doyle couldn’t stomach it. This was definitely not something she accounted for going into the battle; yet here she was walking side by side with General Doyle to organize the camps.
They were detaining those that belonged to Locus, but didn’t quite make it out of camp, and awaiting the Pelican that could make this operation run like water down a cliff.
Doyle was hesitant but concerned. Personally, Kimball wouldn’t have approved of the combo, but a leader concerned for his people was a leader that would give any order to save them. Still, Kimball couldn’t help but feel a hiccup in their movements together.
Ok, yes they just stopped pointing guns at each other but they were leaders of armies. They were leaders of kids that were scared. They were leaders of a dying light that needed to be saved.
So they worked together, and they didn’t even have a chance to take a breather about it; nor could they question each others loyalty. They just rolled with their creaky leadership until they could get the Captains in bound.
“We need to get this soldier to a medic, pronto.” Kimball clearly ordered with her hands pressed firmly against a soldier’s torso.
Doyle, trying to verbalize what needed to be done, was not far from her but he couldn’t stand the sight of blood. A trait that Kimball found most annoying. She needed him helping her with the wounded, not talking about it.
A series of assurances rang through her healthy troops, what little of them were left, and a more hesitant assurance came from those that were newly adopted into her army. Kimball looked down at the soldier she was keeping alive.
Kimball shift on her feet, and asks firmly, “Would you like your helmet off, soldier?”
The soldier tilted their head towards her before nodding. Kimball shifted her weight so the pressure staid even on the wound with one hand. The other hand, now slick with blood, worked the harness under the soldier’s head until she pulled it off.
The kid’s raspy breaths were evident but one thing was even more apparent. This wasn’t one of Kimball’s soldiers.
It didn’t matter now that the armies are planning on combining but it still stunned Kimball for a second.
“Hello soldier, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Vanessa Kimball.” She introduced herself, resting the helmet by her side as she resumed to put pressure on the wound.
The soldier weakly looked at her with narrowed, questioning eyes. Vanessa decided to answer the unasked question, “We came to a truce. We aren’t fighting anymore.”
The relief flooded the soldier’s face as the stretcher finally came for them. The soldier looked at peace as the medic team took over Vanessa’s job. That’s when Vanessa noticed the weak breaths of air leaving the soldier. She had seen it before, and this soldier wasn’t going to make it.
She stood up stiffly with the wounded soldier’s helmet in her hands. She stopped a medical personal and handed it to them. “Clean it before you give it back to them, got it?” She tells the medic.
“Yes ma’am.” The medic chanted before jogging off with the helmet.
Just as quickly as the medics left, the next situation came up that Vanessa had to deal with. Doyle was helping in his own way by dealing with the number side of the havoc. It wasn’t the first time either of them had dealt with a post-war scene.
This next situation was something that put them both at odds with their hour long business relationship.
One of her captains ran up to her and whispered into her ear, “We are quickly running out of room for prisoners.”
Kimball looked up across the camp to see the struggling black uniforms that had guns trained on them. She jerks her head to gesture for the captain to follow her towards the jittery man. He was already moving on to the next thing on their never-ending list of things to do.
“General, what exactly do you want to do with Locus’ men?” Kimball questions; the captain walking close to Kimball’s side.
“They need to be dealt with immediately. What else can we do other then kill them?” He determines, without even glancing up from his tablet as he started walking towards another situation. Kimball looks taken aback, and stops the Captain from turning around to follow that order.
“We can’t kill them!” She snaps with a slight condescending tone, and if she hadn’t been armed she would’ve probably been gesturing wildly. “They must know something useful.”
“They are a threat to my people alive. It’s not a decision I personally like to make, Kimball but it simply must be done.” Doyle tried to reassure as he turns on his heels to face Kimball.
Kimball’s helmet start beeping causing her to retort one last time, “Why don’t we just we keep them and interrogate them?”
The message opened up on her visor to one of Doyle’s pilots. Doyle, who was in on the message, moved closer to Kimball so they could continue their talk.
“We are approaching Fed Base with haste. Have a medic team prepped and ready for two injured.” The young pilot stated quickly and a bit panicked.
Kimball could already hear the engines of the Pelican dropping in. Her and Doyle looked up to see the Pelican in the distant sunset. She took no time in turning and calling for two medic teams to prep for incoming. The few doctors they had left to spare assure her in their haste.
“Copy that. We have two medics awaiting your arrival. Do you have what we sent for?” Kimball asks sternly as she makes sure no negative emotions twinge her tone.
“Do you have Doctor Grey aboard your ship?” Doyle intercedes with hope staining his voice.
“Yes to all. We have seven Reds and Blues, two Freelancers, and a doctor on this ship.” The pilot assured.
Kimball let out a breathe of relief almost at the same time Doyle did. The sight of the ship brought hope to Kimball, and she was grateful for it. She was covered in soldiers’ blood and fighting a new war while protecting her enemy-turned-allies.
The descending ship brought her excitement for the future.
Dust picked up in the air, as the Pelican slowly descend, causing the people around to raise their arms to block the debris. When the plane settled, the door immediately was popped open. Much to Kimball’s despair, Tucker was immediately moved on to a stretcher. Much to Doyle’s despair, Washington’s stretcher quickly followed Tucker’s.
Despite the heartbreak, Vanessa moved forward to intercept the rest of the soldiers. She thanked the medics that were rushing past her. They nodded their acknowledgement but didn’t stop.
A teal figure jumped out of the Pelican before assisting a white and purple medic out of the Pelican. Without much of a hello, the medic ran off in the direction Washington and Tucker were dragged off to.
Doyle looked torn between staying or chasing after her so from that look Kimball debunked that the medic was Doctor Emily Grey.
"Why don't you go after her? I can handle the Reds and Blues." She asks loudly to be heard over the Pelican engines as she moved toward it.
"I would be a mad man to follow her. I might be her next victim if I were to get in the middle of her work.” Doyle confesses equally as loud with a hand up to keep debris at bay.
“I would love to meet her when she’s not keeping our men alive.” Vanessa muses to him, and chuckles softly when he nodded fearfully.
The teal soldier started helping more soldiers out of the jet. The Reds and Blues that Kimball knew came out first before being followed by two extra Reds. The teal soldier visibly counted all the soldiers before nodding in assurance and banging their fist on the side of the Pelican to signal to the pilot the all clear.
The pilot starts their take off to head to the next desperate mission as soon as the Reds and Blues plus one step away from the Pelican.
The Reds and Blues move as a group towards Doyle and her. The teal soldier steps in front of them and salutes Kimball much to Kimball's and Doyle's surprise. The Reds and Blues must have mentioned them to the soldier.
Kimball stared openly, thanks to her helmet, at the soldier in front of her that was standing so confidently. Kimball returned the salute feeling honored.
The soldier stiffly went into parade rest and, much to her surprise, in a feminine voice spoke, "You two must be the generals that the boys have told so much about. I'm Agent Carolina. It's an honor to meet you. I've heard so much about you."
Carolina tilted her head to look at Doyle as she spoke. Kimball cleared her throat to drag Carolina’s attention to her. “And I you, Agent Carolina. Tucker would often complain like he does about his adventures. I’m guessing the other soldier on the stretcher being dragged away by my busy medics was Agent Washington?” Kimball questioned evenly now that engines were off while sticking her hand out for a handshake.
Carolina looked at her hand before looking up at her. Kimball glanced at her hand to see blood soaking her arms. Doyle offered her a towel as she let out an squeak. “My apologies, I’ve been trying to keep my wounded from dying until our medic personnel can make it to them.” Kimball apologizes, wiping furiously at her armor.
“No need to apologize, General. As you were asking, Agent Washington was the one taken away with Tucker. He was… with the others.” Carolina assures, watching Kimball clean the wet blood off her hands.
“Yes. He was with me when the Reds and Blues were split up.” Doyle intercedes, trying to insert himself in the conversation.
Kimball stares at Doyle for a bit before finally saying, “Why don’t we debrief each other, Agent Carolina? Come on guys.”
On their way to the only real room the had left, Kimball and Doyle met each other’s Red and Blue team. It was an interesting task that involved a lot of questions, mostly from Caboose. Kimball enjoyed watching Doyle realize what the Reds and Blue were actually like.
Doyle is talking to Carolina when a soldier comes up to Kimball and whispers in to her ear.
Kimball listens to the soldier before nodding and handing the soldier her bloody towel. “Doyle, you are needed elsewhere.” Kimball announces without looking away from her soldier.
Doyle stops talking to Carolina about what a funny story it is that the accidentally mistook her soldiers as prisoners. “What do you mean? Can’t you do it?” Doyle asks, perturbed.
“I would love to but not only do I know nothing about Federal Chorus’ water system around here; I have to debrief Agent Carolina about these prisoners and vice versa. I would hurry considering they need water in the medic tents.”
Doyle lifted up a hand to protest but Kimball just turned to stare him down. Without another word, the General walked off with the soldier.
Kimball turned to Carolina with a sigh. “I really hate passing on my duties to him.” Kimball confesses, waving the Reds and Blues over.
Carolina tilted her head at Kimball in confusion. “Why?” She asks, “Don’t trust him yet?”
Vanessa chuckled wryly, “It only been a few hours. Of course not, but now that he’s gone I can finally do this.” She answers before pulling her helmet off. The clean air replaced the stale air she had been breathing for almost three days now. She hadn’t eaten in a long time, and she is sure her face looks dead but she could care less.
“Also because you are my first priority. You will always be my first priority.” Kimball states with an even tone. The Reds and Blues reacted generally the way she expected. Which was either too stunned to speak, or like what she said was something dumb.
Carolina’s reaction was different. She relaxed, and just stared at Kimball.
With that, Kimball set down her helmet on the table in the conference room and said, “Don’t mind me getting comfortable. I think we’ll be fine taking them off so help yourselves. If Locus were to strike back now, he’d be an idiot to. But if he were, we’d know before he even set foot on this planet.”
The boys seemed to relax even more as they popped their helmets off. Grif threw himself down on to a chair, and Simmons quickly followed suit. Sooner or later, they all sat down in exhaustion. They all had messy hair, and looked extremely fatigued. Kimball couldn’t help but respect them a bit more.
They never wanted to help Chorus but in the end, they couldn’t leave knowing Chorus needed help. They were good people who happened to be terrible soldiers.
Carolina was the last to pull her helmet off. Her hands were flexing while her head was down. It was the first time she actually took her eyes off Kimball, and Kimball noted it. Reluctantly, Carolina reached up and pulled of her helmet.
Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her bangs were pinned back. When Carolina looked up, Kimball tried and succeeded in hiding her reaction to Carolina’s eyes because she had definitely never seen such fiery eyes. There was also a faint flush on Carolina’s face that probably came from having to take her helmet off.
Kimball tried desperately to pull herself in. She cleared her throat and said, “You guys are still my Captains, and now my advisers. I want to take back Chorus. You will always be my first priority.”
Carolina’s face flushed red again. Kimball tried not to smile as she looked at Carolina. Grif could be heard whispering an elongated, “Gay.” to Simmons.