Name Calling

[churbooseanon]

RVB60Min Weekly prompt: April 27th, 2015

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 He said, she said.

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Fandom: Red Versus Blue
Character: General Vanessa Kimball, Agent Carolina
Rating: T
Ship: Kimbalina
Word Count: 1503
Time Count: 45 Minutes
Notes: This prompt was a bit harder for me flow wise. But I like here it ended.

 

Name Calling

    An army runs on its stomach.

    It’s a saying that General Vanessa Kimball of the New Republic of Chorus has heard so many times before. In fact, it’s a concept she understands rather well. To have a functioning army one must not only be able to provide them with weaponry and protective gear and leadership, but also keep them fed. It used to be that Felix did that well for them. In addition to his raids leading to the acquisition of weapons and ammunition, it also resulted in the stockpiling of food. Not much of it, of course, but enough to keep them running at a good level.

    What really didn’t set in until after the betrayal (until after all of the conflict and she had no choice but to team up with General Donald Doyle, first class idiot, a step beyond when it came to shows of cowardice, and ultimately enemy number one to everything the New Republic believes in), is that it runs on rumors too.

    The rumors fly fast and furious within days of the arrival of the forces of the New Republic to the capital city of Armonia. Not that many come from her own men. They have long since learned that you don’t mess with General Kimball. Doing so was an assurance that her right hand man, Andersmith, would come visiting in the night to knock a few heads together. Now the prevailing threat was team building exercises with Captain Caboose, which no one wanted either, and there was a definite air that no one wanted to be subjected to both Caboose and Andersmith.

    If only that opinion extended to the Federal Army.

    “I’m just… I’m just so TIRED of it,” Kimball fumes one early evening in her office to the only person who really gets the burden of leadership like she has.

    “Tired of what?” Carolina asks, her voice maddeningly level and controlled like it always is when Kimball turns to her for help.

    Kimball growls under her breath before calming down. She can achieve nothing if she’s clearly enraged, and Carolina doesn’t seem to appreciate such mindless hostility. Hypocritical really, because Carolina is prone to it herself. Once she finds she can keep her voice stable, Kimball speaks up.

    “Did you have the pleasure of a shower today?”

    Truth be told she quite enjoys the confused look that Carolina gives her for the evasive question. Not that Carolina rises to the bait. Sure, the look on her face invites response, but Kimball stays silent a moment longer before responding to the prompting expression.

    “I did,” Kimball continues, lacing her fingers together in front of her on the desk to keep them shaking with remembered rage. “As of yet the female officers of the Federal Army either do not recognize our ranking female members, or do not care. Due to this, I was subjected to a rather lengthy and crass discussion of my sexual deviance shared with Felix.”

    “Oh,” Carolina says, and there is laughter in her eyes. Kimball wants to lean across her desk and pinch the other woman until the expression goes away.

    “From there the conversation turned to other topics,” Kimball continues. “Including the suggestion that I was capable of fornicating with myself as my anatomy is not standard.”

    The giggle is clearly there in Carolina’s expression, but damn if the woman isn’t masterful at holding it back. Curse this woman and her sense of humor.

    “So, what you’re saying is that the people who have been your enemies for years are painting you as an inhuman villain?” Carolina asks after a moment, one likely meant to allow her to gather her substantial composure. Jerk.

    “Exactly,” Kimball agrees, fuming. “What have I ever done to them to deserve…”

    “Besides spend years in a bloody war with them, and manage to become the head of an enemy force which was hell bent on defeating them?” Carolina interrupts. “Not only that, but you are also one of two currently standing military leaders who put their trust, however noble and ‘right’ your intentions were, into the hands of a pair of mercenaries who turned out to be working for a third party that wants to doom this entire planet to genocide?”

    “That isn’t my fault,” Kimball protests. “I was merely continuing a contract that my predecessors left me and Felix…”

    “Mercenaries who betrayed both sides,” Carolina continues as if Kimball hadn’t opened her mouth at all, “and as these soldiers are members of one side of this clusterfuck war and have for a long period obeyed and respected their leader, they have no one else to blame for the betrayal but the mercenaries and you, their former boogie man?”

    For a moment Kimball considers protesting, and then she clamps her mouth shut with an audible click, refusing to dignify Carolina’s perfectly good point with a response.

    “Honestly, if you ask me, I’d suggest that first, they didn’t know who you were,” Carolina offers. “For one thing, they’ve seen Doyle unhelmeted more often, and if you hadn’t noticed, he’s a good deal older than you. You came into this war as a kid, more or less, and he did as a full adult whose military career had more or less stalled out, and for pretty good reason.”

    Kimball nods in agreement. Finally, someone who understood her pain about that man. But no, Carolina wouldn’t be so kind as to leave it there. This is what Kimball gets for having a smart, respectable, militarily aware friend like her. Stupid Carolina always being a reasonable middleman in this whole conflict.

    “So you’re saying they assume I can’t lead because I’m young?” Kimball asks, wanting so desperately to be outraged. She’d had a good hate going on earlier, and Carolina pulling her back from the edge is not what she wants. “They don’t even call me General Kimball. Just ‘Miss’ Kimball, like they can’t believe I’m military, or a leader. Or on part with their precious Doily.”

    Carolina rolls her eyes at that particular nickname Kimball had taken up. “No, that isn’t what I’m saying, Kimball. I’m saying that even though they are aware that the leader of the New Republic is a woman, they don’t know your face, and compared to their own leader, you’re young. They’re going to assume you’re just another officer, like they are. In fact, they were probably trying to start a fight with one of your soldiers. If you hadn’t noticed, your men and women are quite loyal to you.”

    And she to them, but she doesn’t think she quite understand Carolina’s point.

    “So?” Kimball demands.

    “So, they don’t like you, they don’t trust you, and they understand feeling loyalty. But that loyalty is to each other and to Doyle. Not to some strange woman who has been fighting them as long as they can remember,” Carolina points out. “You have to learn to let it not bother you.”

    “Not bother?” Kimball blusters, suddenly angry again. “They suggested I paid Felix by blowing him.”

    “And did you?” Carolina asks, her voice still rational and smooth.

    “Of course not!”

    “Then why should it matter if they say it?” Carolina asks. “You know the truth. I know the truth. Felix knows you wouldn’t come anywhere near him with a ten foot pole. So why should you care about them.”

    “Because… just because,” Kimball protests.

    “You’re a leader now, Vanessa, and you have been for a while. Being a leader means rising above such petty squabbles.”

    “Like you?” Kimball asks curiously.

    That prompts a rather ugly, pondering look on Carolina’s face. “I think you should aim to be better than me.”

    “You’re the former super-soldier of Project Freelancer,” Kimball counters. “Why shouldn’t I want to be on your level.”

    “Because I’ve failed in the same situation in the past,” Carolina answers, her voice a pained whisper. “Or one very like it. Don’t… don’t be like me.”

    They are silent for a while, Carolina’s expression distant. Hell, it almost looks like she’s gazing through the wall into another realm entirely. So Kimball does what she always does to get the other woman’s attention. She stands, circles the desk, and sits down in Carolina’s lap. That jars the other woman back to the present, but Kimball doesn’t stop there. She reaches up with her hands to cup Carolina’s face, manipulating it into just the right position to lay a light kiss on Carolina’s lips.

    “I guess we both have to be better then,” Kimball whispers as she pulls away.

    “Yeah, Nessa, we do,” Carolina agrees, wrapping an arm around Kimball’s waist. “But that can wait until later. Much later.”

    Kimball actually laughs as her girlfriend and chief military advisor picks her up and carries her to the cot in the corner that Kimball uses for naps when she’s up late doing administrative work. And when she’s lowered down below Carolina, treated to strands of red hair falling in her face, well, it’s like her problems are a million miles away.