#bombs tw

“Ironforge!”

The voice bellowing from the office at the back of the station was enough to make several officers clap their hands over their ears. The Sergeant Major was pissed. More than usual. 

A short, stocky woman looked up from her paperwork, wincing. She slowly stood, tucking a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear,

“Aye, sir?”

“Office! Now!” snapped the reply as the rotund, middle-aged man stormed back into the office, leaving the door open. Several officers, of varying ranks, immediately began avoiding the gaze of their colleague as she marched stiffly between the desks and piles of paperwork. She grimaced as she heard the whispers trailing behind her,

“What the fuck did she do?”

“Got the front of the Houses of Parliament blown up apparently.”

“Moradin’s beard! you reckon they’re gonna –?”

Meredith ignored them, keeping her face as neutral as possible as she approached the door of her commanding officer’s office. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her and stood at complete attention, her hat held firmly in her hand at her side. She said nothing as she watched Sergeant Major Ragnarsson glare at her from behind his desk.

“D’ye mind telling me what in all the hells happened at the Houses of Parliament yesterday?!” he snapped, pulling open the top drawer of his desk and lifting out a large bottle of cheap whisky. 

Meredith cleared her throat, looking over the older man’s shoulder, not daring to move as she replied,

“Sir, my team and I were chasing down the suspects of the Sonefort murder case as they attempted to flee. The suspects fled towards the Houses of Parliament, shot the guards on duty and continued to flee into the cellars, whereupon they shot more of the security on duty at the time. We were simply attempting to apprehend them when we became aware that the cellars directly under the Royal Court had been rigged with explosives.” she explained.

Ragnarsson heaved a sigh, pouring out a generous shot of whisky into the glass on his desk,

“So why didn’t you call in the bomb squad, Gruksdottir?” he asked plaintively, “You know the standard operating procedure is to do so.” 

Meredith simply switched her gaze from the poster on the wall behind the Sergeant Major to his face instead,

“We didn’t have time, sir. The suspects running into the room set the timer going,which was set for less than five minutes. I had to act in the best interests of both my team and the people still in the building, sir.” 

“Then why not simply evacuate?”

“Because the suspects we had been trying to apprehend were taken hostage by the individuals who had set the explosives, sir. It seems that, while they had previously been allied, those that had been setting up the explosives were a bit peeved at their friends bringing the Guardian Corps back with them.”

“Is it possible that they were also ‘a bit peeved’ at their friends setting off the timer for the explosives, Gruksdottir?” Ragnarsson sighed, running a hand down his face.

Meredith returned her gaze to the poster behind him,

“That is indeed, also a possibility, sir.” she agreed. Ragnarsson clucked his tongue and picked up a manila folder, stuffed with papers. He opened it and regarded his constable with a flat expression.

“Your written report mentions that, while you did send Constables Gurrissdottir and Firiksson off to evacuate the site, you and Constable Kiruksson insisted on staying in the cellar to, and I quote, ‘do whatever it took to save as many lives as possible, including those of the suspects’.” He shook his head, “I take that to mean that this included encouraging Kiruksson to attempt to disarm the explosives?” he asked.

“He insisted on trying, sir. Kiruksson had recently received bomb disposal training and was confident that he could at least detach the primary bomb from the rest of the rigging.”  Meredith replied, “I am fully aware that this was a break in protocol, and placed Kiruksson in what is deemed to be unnecessary peril. However, it was the best option we had at the time, sir. As established, there was no time to call in the bomb squad.” 

Ragnarrson’s face fell into a deep scowl. He threw the folder onto the desk,

“‘Deemed to be’?!” he roared. The Sergeant Major stood, slamming both hands on his desk, “Both you and Kiruksson are extremely lucky, or Blessed by Moradin Himself, that he was not killed when the bomb went off in the lobby!” The older man straightened his back, sucked in a breath and placed his hands behind his back,

“Now, as the commanding officer of the squad in question, I’m sure you’re more than aware that you are being held entirely responsible for this debacle?” 

Meredith only slightly nodded her head, and stood even more at attention than before,

“Aye, sir.” she stated firmly. Ragnarsson shook his head,

“You’re very lucky that the Field Marshal likes you as much as he does.” he sighed, “There were plenty of calls to have you stripped of rank and kicked out of the SGC altogether.” he paused a moment, watching for Meredith’s reaction. When he received none, he carried on,

“As it is, due to your previously impeccable record, Field Marshal Vanskleig was able to twist some arms and merely get you demoted back down to the bottom tier and a field transfer out of Fangthane until things simmer down.” That got more of a reaction. Meredith didn’t move, but she did set her jaw, though she continued staring at the poster instead of at her Sergeant Major,

“Aye, sir. Where am I being transferred to, sir?” she asked, somehow managing to keep her voice level. Ragnarsson grimaced,

“The consulate office in Toreguarde.” he replied, “Apparently Lieutenant Starhammer needs more officers and the Field Marshal offered to send you. Something about only needing one good officer instead of five or six freshly-graduated cadets.” The Sergeant Major relaxed a little and placed another tumblr on his desk, pouring out another shot into it,

“You can stand at ease now, Constable.” he sighed, picking up his glass and downing the whisky in it. Meredith slowly allowed her posture to relax a little, finally looking at her commanding officer,

“Permission to speak, sir?” she asked. Ragnarsson waved a hand as he sat back down in his seat,

“Granted, you may be as candid as you wish, Gruksdottir.” he sighed. Meredith nodded and allowed herself to relax entirely. She twisted her Shanter nervously in her hands,

“Toreguarde, sir? I understand a transfer is necessary but why not to Firetop, or even Stonebridge?” she asked. Ragnarsson shrugged,

“Field Marshal Vanskleig seems to be of the opinion that it will be good for you.” he said, “Something about your talents being wasted in areas of the Kingdom that are already adequately staffed.” 

Meredith groaned, walked over to the desk, picked up the tumblr and downed the whisky in it, grimacing at the afterburn in her throat,

“How soon do I need to leave?”  she asked, already dreading the answer. Ragnarsson poured out some more whisky as soon as she placed the tumblr  back on the table,

“By tomorrow evening. There are a few Members of Parliament and Lords and Ladies of the House that are very upset that you’ve not been brought up on charges yourself, so it seems wise to send you off sooner rather than later.” he leaned back in his seat as Meredith downed the new shot,

“I’ll be honest, I’m sad to lose such a fine officer, but politics is as politics does. We’ll get a message sent to Khull to inform Forhoksson of what’s happened as soon as I can manage it.”

“Thank you, sir.” Meredith sighed. She shook her head, “Permission to leave, sir? I need to inform my family and get packed.” 

“Permission granted, Constable. I hope we can work with one another again at some point soon. Just keep your head down and nose clean, aye?”