Winning
at this game was the only thing on Kazia Tamm’s mind
As she had left a trail through the picturesque countryside that a child could have followed
Her T-34 tank’s treads had cut a swath of dirty destruction both on and off road over the last seven hours of darkness
Engine wailing away and doubtlessly awakening many of the country folk
She had made her way to the nearest large Separatist encampment
Where she had found about what she had expected
An initial armed and tense response to her arrival in their midst
Followed by a tentative acceptance of her story and intentions
Mostly thanks to her childhood relationship with many of the members of this particular militia group
Kazia had grown up in this area
It’s roads and hilly countryside known to her all her young life before joining the military
Which had given her a huge advantage in her dark nighttime dash with the now silent tracked chariot
Said chariot being the current subject of attention
It had now been stashed away in a nearby barn
Buried in hay and surrounded by goats, chickens, and sheep
Kazia sat in the back room of a shuttered café with a small group of the rebels
All known to her
As she was known to them
After some catching up of personal histories
Negotiations ensued for the tank and additional information on loyalist unit deployments
Her friend’s initial happiness at her seeming defection to their cause had morphed into semi-confused acceptance of her new life plan
After all, she was their friend, who had now given them a tank
So it was
That two hours later
And a few bottles of wine less sober
Kazia Tamm rode out of the village that she had grown up in for the last time
Safely stowed in the cargo area of a moving truck
Her pockets a little heavier with gold and silver coin
A generous goodbye gift and payment from her rebel friends
Who assured her that her tank
Now quickly rechristened as “Smith-Hammer”
Along with the information she had given them
Would be put to good use
Kazia had picked one gold coin from her new purse as the last round of drinks had been poured
With golden rays of the rising sun shining across them through cracks in the boards over the windows
And given it to Mateusz
One of her dearest childhood friends
Now the best marksman in the local militia
Payment for his promise to put a round into the head of her former Unit Commander
She had no doubt he would fulfill that promise
Now filled with rekindled memories of her childhood and friends
A taste of wine and everyone’s goodbye kisses on her lips
Kazia Tamm tapped out an obscure rhythm with her finger while humming an old song
Keeping time with her camo green steel engagement ring on a crate’s edge as she rode to the port city
Where she would buy a ticket on a ship
To take her across the sparkling sea
And a new life
As she had left a trail through the picturesque countryside that a child could have followed
Her T-34 tank’s treads had cut a swath of dirty destruction both on and off road over the last seven hours of darkness
Engine wailing away and doubtlessly awakening many of the country folk
She had made her way to the nearest large Separatist encampment
Where she had found about what she had expected
An initial armed and tense response to her arrival in their midst
Followed by a tentative acceptance of her story and intentions
Mostly thanks to her childhood relationship with many of the members of this particular militia group
Kazia had grown up in this area
It’s roads and hilly countryside known to her all her young life before joining the military
Which had given her a huge advantage in her dark nighttime dash with the now silent tracked chariot
Said chariot being the current subject of attention
It had now been stashed away in a nearby barn
Buried in hay and surrounded by goats, chickens, and sheep
Kazia sat in the back room of a shuttered café with a small group of the rebels
All known to her
As she was known to them
After some catching up of personal histories
Negotiations ensued for the tank and additional information on loyalist unit deployments
Her friend’s initial happiness at her seeming defection to their cause had morphed into semi-confused acceptance of her new life plan
After all, she was their friend, who had now given them a tank
So it was
That two hours later
And a few bottles of wine less sober
Kazia Tamm rode out of the village that she had grown up in for the last time
Safely stowed in the cargo area of a moving truck
Her pockets a little heavier with gold and silver coin
A generous goodbye gift and payment from her rebel friends
Who assured her that her tank
Now quickly rechristened as “Smith-Hammer”
Along with the information she had given them
Would be put to good use
Kazia had picked one gold coin from her new purse as the last round of drinks had been poured
With golden rays of the rising sun shining across them through cracks in the boards over the windows
And given it to Mateusz
One of her dearest childhood friends
Now the best marksman in the local militia
Payment for his promise to put a round into the head of her former Unit Commander
She had no doubt he would fulfill that promise
Now filled with rekindled memories of her childhood and friends
A taste of wine and everyone’s goodbye kisses on her lips
Kazia Tamm tapped out an obscure rhythm with her finger while humming an old song
Keeping time with her camo green steel engagement ring on a crate’s edge as she rode to the port city
Where she would buy a ticket on a ship
To take her across the sparkling sea
And a new life
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