<<From: No Man's Land>>

"That's enough out of you! Step lively! And no funny business! My men will not hesitate to shoot you if you try to escape!" The lieutenant was young, and clearly very sensitive about his position. He needed to throw his weight around to feel good about himself. That made him a dangerous man. "Inside, all of you!"

The sergeant could do nothing but salute, and obey. His grizzled expression was clearly unhappy about all this, but what could he do?

They were led to a small chamber, an ante-room next to what was presumably the room the General had commandeered as his office. The lieutenant knocked, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

OOC: https://upload.wikimedia.org/w...on_du_Sagittaire.jpg is the building in question. :D

Victoria was insulted.  To be treated as such!  She stared at the General, her annoyance at the forefront.

"I am a British subject and a woman, and I protest this treatment!  I am no soldier, nor a foreigner.  I am part of..."  She had to think a moment.  "... a subject of His Majesty, and demand to be treated as such!"

She was firm, but only a step away from tears.  This truly frightened her.

Amy laid a hand on Victoria's forearm. "Deep breath. Calmly!" As if she was one to advocate for that! "I get the feeling we've walked into more than we expected, but we're not the only ones who are worried about this. That sergeant is definitely on our side. There'll be others, too. Even if they lock us up, we can be out in a jiffy. Sonic screwdriver, remember? Might be best if they did lock us up. Then they could forget about us, and we could sneak out after letting things go quiet for the night. We'll be free as the birds, and rattling this rogue time lord's teeth by dawn, you can bet on it!"

It was not that Amy enjoyed being arrested and locked in dungeons, but it was so common now that she just assumed that it was going to happen. It was just an occupational hazard. Admittedly, a First World War dungeon a few hours before the start of the Battle of the Somme was one of the most peril-filled places she had ever been, but it made sense. The more danger they were in, the more they were on the right track. There seemed to be a definite ratio between those two facts, she had noticed...

"If I were trying to escape, it would be not be as subtle as they fear" Leela said. "Perhaps we can join with them, they are headed out into this no-man's land."

With Amy's assurances, she calmed herself.  Yes, in such situations, she wanted to scream.  Frankly, she still did. But she knew, a screaming female was not a good thing at this time.  And Amy was right, they had options.  She had forgotten that.

"Forgive me, I was overwrought.  Still, we are not your enemy, sir, and while we are mostly women, we are strong enough to help.  So do not discount us.  This is our war too, you know."  And she tried to look her best beseeching look.  After all, it worked on the last officer?

Harry had been about to speak when Victoria opened up the first time, and when that had happened, he had to give pause.

After just a moment or two, Harry stepped up to the door and put his ear against it, hoping that he might be able to hear something on the other side. If he heard nothing, he would soon step back and wait for the lot of them to be called in.

The door was yanked open as Harry approached. The time travelers were hustled to stand together like naughty schoolchildren.

The general was, of course, exactly what one might have expected. Grey hair, huge moustache, smart uniform with a row of ribbons, and an expression like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle. His eyes were vacant for a moment, then came back into focus.

"This is indeed a very sorry business! I have spoken to Captain Farraday, and considered your case. I think it is quite commendable that young ladies feel so strongly about this war that they want to take part, but dash it all, this is not the way to go about it! Recruiting, or nursing, or some such feminine pursuit is how a lady should help the war effort! No, it won't do at all!" He arranged some papers on his desk, almost absent-mindedly, then came back to the point. "What? What you say? Oh, yes. Harmupmh! Lieutenant! Are the dowager quarters fit to be seen?"

The overly obsequious lieutenant fawned appropriately. "Oh yes, sir. Very fit! And there's a lovely big lock on the door! These French kings did not like anybody interfering with their women folk - except themselves!"

"Jolly good! Ladies, you will be taken to a comfortable suite where you will stay the night. We shall arrange transport for you back to England, and you can be handed over the the civil authorities, who can investigate and punish your foolishness accordingly. Got no authority over you here, since you're not in the military. And consider yourself dashed lucky to be alive! Walking about no man's land! This is war, ladies, not a tea party on the lawn with the vicar!"

The general then looked at Harry, and his expression became considerably less friendly. "As for you, sir - give an account of yourself! Why aren't you in uniform? Who the devil are you? What regiment are you with? There's a word for able bodied men who avoid a war, and it is not a very flattering one! And I should warn you, if you can't prove to my satisfaction why you are walking out towards the German lines at such a crucial point in the campaign, I will have no other option but to have you shot as a spy! Speak up, man! What have you got to say for yourself?"

This was definitely not a good development, though it should have been expected. The general's eyes slipped in and out of focus again. He definitely seemed to be more in control than the other soldiers who had looked glassy-eyed, but that was probably not a good thing, since it meant he was more than capable of having Harry up against a wall with a firing squad by dawn.

Victoria, for a long moment, was going to do her usual meltdown, the Victorian girl calling out the unfairness and putting her womanhood forward to fight for something she didn't understand until someone, like Jamie, or her other new friends, told her to calm down.

Not now.

She had ventured with the Doctor, and had seen things like this, and had seen them here.  Everything here was intended to stop them from solving this puzzle.  And this man, who was not half the man that Major Lethbridge-Stewart was, was telling them how life would be, controlled by something unknown.

So the girl stepped forward, stepped between this General and Harry, stood toe to toe with him, and looked at him with her brown eyes filled with anger.

"No."

She took a deep breath.

"We will go where we wish, you have no control here.  Harry goes with us.  Stand back and get out of our way! You have no command or control here!"

Amy winced slightly. She was absolutely all for Victoria stepping up and fighting for women's lib and all that, but this was possibly not the time or place. But the die had been cast, so she was going to back her up!

She crossed her arms pointedly, and tossed her head. "Aye. What she said!"

This general was definitely not all he seemed. The captain had been weird, too. How many officers were being tampered with? And to what end? Someone was out to assassinate Hitler, controlling the British Army, and there were monsters roaming no man's land.

It was like a jigsaw puzzle, but with only half the pieces, and the box lid missing. It did fit together, somehow, but there was not enough information to work out what it was mean to be... not yet, anyway.

Leela looked confused. "He doesn't?" she asked when Victoria said the general didn't have any control here. "I thought that's why he had the fancy jacket". She was troubled for a moment; given the letter that had been intended for him, this general may know more than he was letting on.
"The Germans tried to kill him, so he is obviously not their friend. You can ask your Sergeant Mackay if that is not so."

The General seemed to be taken aback at the sudden feistiness confronting him, and from women at that! He looked at them all with an expression of dumbfounded disbelief, and then started to turn a worrying shade of scarlet. "The devil I don't! Under the Defence of the Realm act of Nineteen-Fourteen, I could have the whole darned lot of you clapped in irons for the duration of this godforsaken war - which won't last much longer, not after we..."

He broke off, but those with a little time travel advantage could surmise that he was going to say something about the massed attack that was planned for the area, a mere handful of hours away. If the general thought that attacking the Somme Valley was going to end the war, he was in for a truly horrifying disappointment...

He turned and bellowed at Mackay. "Sergeant! Is what this... this..." He waved a hand at Leela, struggling to find a suitable word for such a woman, dressed in skins and a jacket that was far too short to hide her legs, muscular and attractive as they were. "Strumpet telling the truth? Were they prisoners of the Germans?"

Mackay, who had been doing the very clever trick taught in secret to NCOs of managing to stand to one side and become effectively invisible, muttered a rather rude gaelic word uner his breath, then came to attention and spoke in the crisp and concise manner also taught to Sergeants in armies throughout all the universe. "Sah! Civilians were captives of the Hun, sah! Seemed to me that they were about to be shot, sah! Rescue seemed to be the right thing to do! Hard to believe they were spies under the circumstances, sah!"

"I asked for facts, not opinions, sergeant!" The General glared at them all, then blinked a few times, as if trying to get his eyes under control. One of them twitched several times, and he drew himself up. "Lieutenant, you may escort our lady... guests to the dowager suite, where they will be provided with food and bedding, such as can be spared. They are not under arrest at this time, but their movements are to be strictly limited to that suite of rooms until an escort can be provided to return them to England. As for this person..." He eyeballed Harry with some suspicion. "Sergeant Mackay has cast some doubt upon his guilt, but he has still failed to explain why he is in the war zone, and not in uniform like any true patriot! He will remain here and explain himself, and if I do not like the story he has to tell, he will be sent back home to be slammed up for the duration like the damnable conscie I suspect him to be! See to it at once!"

The slimy Lieutenant saluted - a fawning sort of gesture - and motioned to the woman. "All right, outside. Your chambers await, ladies. Consider yourselves lucky it isn't a cellar!"

Well, perhaps the objections raised by Victoria and Leela had managed to break through whatever it was that was influencing the soldiers around these parts. True, Harry still faced the prospect of being locked up as a conscientious objector - although the logic of that, given he was on the front lines, was questionable, but nobody ever said the First World War staff corps were endowed with great analytical minds - but it was a great deal better than being shot at dawn.

The Lieutenant led the way out, and accompanied by several soldiers, the women were escorted to the rooms that would be their home for the next few days. Harry, however, was left behind to explain himself.

OOC: Ladies, please move to IC: Dowager Suite. Harry, you're stuck here until you satisfy the general as to your presence in France!

In truth, Harry felt a depth of hatred for this fellow. He had just departed from another war, a battlefield of great proportion and unimaginable toll, and come into another war of unbelievable weight. He had not spoken first out of surprise at the fight of the ladies in the group, and stayed silent so that he could gather his composure.

And now he, who had served his country faithfully in another time, in a time when most people understood that war was not glorious but a great, common burden, was being accused of being a conscientious objector.

He had a plan for how he could really get out of this if it came down to it, but he didn't want to take that step. Trying to avoid this, he waited until his friends had left and spoke up, not entirely sure what he would be saying next the entire way through.

"A conscie?! Did you just call me a conscie? I have brooked many insults in my life, but I'll not brook this one. A conscie--I think not. I oppose the German threat as any right-thinking Englishman does, in the way I do best."

"And how is that?" The General fixed Harry with a disapproving eye. "What's your regiment? Your rank? Why aren't you in uniform? You give me a good reason for your presence, and you'll be treated accordingly. But until you make account of yourself, I have no choice but to consider you to be present for some nefarious purpose!"

His eye twitched again. He sat down, and looked around, slightly confused, then came back to focus, and glared at his prisoner. If he was under some sort of mental control, it was far more sophisticated than the lower ranked soldiers. That made sense. It also made him more dangerous. The German soldiers had probably very little attention from whatever was controlling them. The General was likely to be important to the plan, and it was a safe bet that, whatever was in control, was very much aware of the presence of the time travelers by now.

Harry straightened his clothes out a bit and took a swing at ensuring his survival, suddenly acting somewhat more affable.

"Are you aware, sir, that your messengers are being waylaid in the battlefield, and expiring without delivering their reports and communications? This is my task, to investigate and rectify this problem--after all, battlefield intelligence can avert...all matter of disasters, don't you agree?"

"Waylaid, you say?" The General scowled. "And what do you know about it? What messages? Are you saying that you are a spy - for the British Army? I don't know about that, I don't like people sneaking about and being all devious! That's not war! War is sword, gun, and men giving their all for their country! What evidence have you? I only have your word for who you are, you have no papers, no corroborating evidence! For all I know, this could just be a delaying tactic."

He gnawed at his moustache. The problem was, a spy for the British would not have papers. Nothing to identify them at all. And, given how left and right hand were totally ignorant of what the other was doing, he had no idea what intelligence operations were running right now. Right before the big push! Obviously they would be busy as well. That made sense.

He made up his mind. "I am a very busy man, dash it! And it is far too late in the evening to be bandying words with the likes of you! I'll lock you up overnight so you can have a jolly good think about this situation, and tomorrow after breakfast you can give a full report of your actions, who sent you, and all that confounded intelligence rubbish. Guard!"

The door opened again, and two somewhat glassy-eyed lower ranked soldiers stomped in. "Take this... individual, and lock him in a suitable part of the glasshouse." He paused, then added grudgingly. "Feed him, and make sure he has a bed. And send the padré to him. Might as well let him make peace with his Maker, in case I do have him shot in the morning. Might as well cover all eventualities, what?"

"Yes sah!" The guards saluted with such accuracy and unison that it looked like they had probably practiced for hours. Or something else was using them as puppets... They clomped over to Harry, and one bellowed right in his ear, "Prisonnneeerrrrr... about face! Quick march, left right, left right..."

Nobody seemed inclined to believe a word Harry said. He had seeded his story, which might just have saved his life, but given how many of the troops here seemed to be acting in that odd, blank-eyed manner, who could he talk to who might actually have enough of a free mind to belive him?