From the desk of the General. Mission 5.
#5 of From the desk of the General
The Kaos Army don't just wade onto battlefields with guns blazing, though that is a lot of fun. Sometimes, the situations they are called in to resolve require some thinking that's not just out of the box, but out of this world.
From the desk of:
General Sir Anarchy Warlock (Decorated with the Medal of Best Disco Dancer at Pontins Holiday Park, Minehead 1989)
Senior Commander of the Kaos Army: Black Planet
Leader of 1st Tank Battalion
Player of pool
Military tactical genius
Occasional jokester
BP date 26/08/3012
Mission notes
Re: Operation FIRESTORM
Planet: ADMFA64
TDW Gate: 622-036-C
The Kaos Army work for contracts. We don't join anybody's side, or take over anyone's war, unless there's money going in the bank. I say that figuratively. A lot of the worlds we go to, and the civilisations we fight with, don't have monetary systems of the sort that Earth inhabitants such as myself will be familiar. We receive payment in many forms - rare elements, magical artefacts, weapons (The Dragons favourite!) and even favours owed. Our leader will gladly offer our many services in return for a seat on an interstellar council, even. Dragons love power.
It's a lot of small print, a Kaos Army military contract. I know the consequences of small print only too well. I had my Hell Afterlife Services demonic work contract incinerated by dragonfire six years ago, (no prizes for guessing which sunglasses-wearing scaly troublemaker was behind that), and I paid the price by being artificially aged upon my return to the mortal world. I missed out on the best years of my life - 20 to 40 - for my actions. So, there's a lot of things we won't be held accountable for if the war doesn't go to plan, (this happens more often than Anar will admit, though he's a lucky bugger, so it usually turns out alright in the end), and a lot of things we will do in the event of an emergency. Our men are our first priority, always, and I will rescind an order if I think it in their best interests. Weapons, bullets and tanks I can get more of. Well-trained battle-ready soldiers, not so much. Though we do take anyone, as per our enlisting promise. (Don't do it. You'll have Corporal Rave as your weapons trainer, and he'll beat you with his swagger stick.)
In our drawn-up contracts is a special mention of medical aid being provided to ally soldiers as a compulsory measure, and you might think this a little strange. (All of what we do is strange, mate). I had one particular mission where the army we were supporting were refusing to have wounded infantry sent to the medical vans. Simply out of the question for them. They had got it into their birdy brains that dying in a war was a noble thing, like some sort of space Viking belief. Now, fair enough, they want to die, no skin off my snout. As long as they're all paid up, I'm not all that bothered. But my men were there, having to watch injured Ghalifh writhe around all bloody, and as fine Kaos Army soldiers they wanted to help. It was heart wrenching for my boys to load them onto stretchers, only for them to reach the medics and physically block themselves from going through the van doors. My doctors and nurses were then in turn upset, and I'd had enough.
How did you try to reason with this race of death-wishers, who had grown up wanting to die in battle to prove their worth to the universe, which really didn't care, and hadn't probably even acknowledged their existence in any meaningful sense? What could I do to convince them that dying was fine, but not right now, please? They could live to see another battle, preferably one in which we played no part.
I looked at the magpie-like anthro birdfolk and looked at my wounded walking stepping from the bandage tents. And had one of my ideas.
The Ghalifh were waiting for their Final Reward. What if I offered them a Median Reward right now? I waved over my chief medic and told him my thoughts. Dr. Drake nodded, agreeing that anything was better than the situation we were in currently.
The medic personnel immediately called back all of our patients and handed out large, glittery stickers that said 'I was brave for nurse' in big block print, that my wife used to use in her old role as nursery teacher back on her home planet.
Magpies love shiny things.
They also received a lollipop.
Everyone loves a lollipop!
Soon enough, we had everyone on board with this plan, and no-one was rolling around dramatically, bleeding out unnecessarily anymore. Though we did have a lot of soldiers turning up with any old scratch and bruise trying to get a treat!
Summary transcribed by Lt.Rap. (Who isn't going to be here for the next one, Rave's doing it, so that should be interesting.)