Kurt is yelling at a cook when Noah finds him.

Noah shakes his head and stands a few yards away to allow the fury that is Kurt complete his tirade at the obviously startled and scared man.

"What makes you think soup is the best thing to bring on a campaign?! What are the soldiers supposed to do? Stop and break some crackers over it? Maybe we should also stop for tea time? While we're at it, let's trade in our armor for little tutus and prance about because maybe that would be more effective in fighting the biggest empire? SOUP!? For goodness sake.... How can we eat this when we're in a trench or ...." Kurt is tossing his hands up in the air as he speaks and it's a hilarious sight for Noah. Not so much for the cook.

Noah has been on the receiving end of Kurt's ire so many times that it's a nice change of pace to see someone else getting it. It's no wonder Finn, for as good as a battle brother as he is, had a hard time keeping his laughter in when it was Kurt yelling at Noah.

The cook looks from side to side for some kind of help, but everyone else seems to know better than to interrupt the proceedings. He looks up to Kurt from where he's hunched over, "Well... sir.... I thought we could put it into flasks to drink... a nice broth..."

"WATER! Water goes into the flasks. We never negotiate on the water. Soup can go bad or will just dirty up the flask. Standard procedure! Water into the flask!" Kurt adds a theatrical stomp at this point and Noah bites his lower lip to keep from laughing aloud.

The cook backs up a step, "Yes sir. Of course sir. I will... I will make the usual battle rations then. Sorry sir...." He steps backwards towards the canteen tent, not daring to turn his back to Kurt and not daring to look up.

Kurt grumbles something to himself and turns on his heel when he spots Noah. "Catch my performance did you Puckerman?"

Noah nods and just smiles to Kurt.

"Well honestly.... I like a good soup as much as the next person... but during battle? Really? I'm not naïve enough to wear my best clothes to battle. I know I need to wear armor. It's the same for food. We can't expect fine dining between swordfights." He steps closer to Noah, putting a couple feet between them.

"Anyhow Puckerman. I need to know your numbers so I can make sure your troops are adequately prepared and supported."

As Kurt's forte was diplomacy, he was the general in charge of support – cooks, medics, scribes, engineers, and so forth. He ensured that Noah and Finn had what they needed for their men and ultimately took care of everyone by making sure that all the behind the scene necessities were taken care of. He needed to know how many troops Noah had and in what organization.

Noah passed him a paper with the details. "I thought as much Kurt. Here you are." He paused and then added, "Are you alright? You laid into that cook pretty hard and I know you're usually more... reserved with such minor things.."

Kurt sighed and looked to the ground, his hand moving over his hair in what Noah had long ago identified as an unconscious self-soothing tic. "Puckerman..."

"Hey man. If you don't wanna talk about it I get it. But you're usually the calmest of us and right now I'm looking like the cool and professional one..." Noah gestured at himself.

Kurt let out small chuckle and looked at his once tormentor, now friend. So much had changed over the years. Five years ago when Noah joined up, Kurt had been at the receiving end of some of Noah's rage. His father had abandoned the family and then his mother died, leaving Noah with the care of his younger siblings. He joined up to avoid having his siblings on the street and now they were both in the junior ranks. Noah was all peace and tranquility when he was with his siblings, but in the ranks he was unruly and unpredictable. More than once he had gone overboard with Kurt in sparring training.

Kurt was used to having more bruises and bumps then the rest of the troops after training exercises. He was seen as weaker and it was (wrongly) assumed he was given preferential treatment because his father was in charge. Kurt could have told his dad, but that would only make what they said true. He learned to talk down his tormentors. He had learned to identify person's mood and pick up on their tells. He was able to see when they were lying, when they were enticed, when they were about to attack all by watching the little movements in their faces and body language.

With Noah, it had been realizing that he took his aggression out on Kurt because he was overcompensating for being the only parent his siblings had now. When Kurt had talked to him about it, Noah had broken down crying. With Kurt's support and guidance, Noah had been able to turn himself around and be a soldier and older brother the troops and his siblings could look up to.

Kurt smiled at the man before him, "No Noah. You know this is personal for my dad and I, and because of that, I just wish that he'd... give you and Finn a little more authority for this mission. I'm afraid that he won't hold back, and I'm afraid that I won't tell him to stop."

Noah shook his head, "That won't happen. Now that you know that's what you're worried about, you won't let it happen."

Kurt nodded and gave one nod, "Maybe so... anyhow. I'll make sure this.." he lifted up the paper in his hand, "gets taken care of. We go tomorrow morning, so make sure your troops are ready."

Noah nodded and walked off, leaving Kurt there to continue coordinating support.

He barely had time to breath before an overly chipper voice piped in beside him.

"Mr. Hummel, sir. Another group of refugees has requested to speak to you."

Kurt turned to look at the woman beside him and grinned, "Thank you Rachel. I assume they're in the medical receiving tent." He leaned over and dropped his voice, "One day we'll all be retired from this and you can just call me Kurt."

Rachel smiled up at him. "Of course sir. Yes sir." She gave him a little wink and turned around to continue with her duties.

Rachel was under his authority. She was a senior message specialist and spent her time sending and receiving messages within the camp. She was also his best friend, though out in the open, they needed to keep up with protocol.

Kurt hurried over to meet with the latest batch of refugees. They always wanted to thank them for the food and shelter they offered, at least temporarily. Some wanted to join up since they lost their homes and livelihoods.

He pushed into the tent and squinted a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the lower lighting. Kurt scanned over the group. A woman and three young men. They looked much the same as many refugees he'd encountered, dirty, and looking defeated. Except...

The one boy, who stood at the back with his arms folded over his chest and was pacing back and forth. He was better dressed than the other three and kept adjusting a cap on his head. The boy's clothes, though expensive, were oversized and he looked like he was drowning in them. He kept his face turned mostly away from Kurt, though kept looking sidelong at him for brief instances.

"Oh sir... oh sir... we thank you and yours so much.... We hadn't eaten in days and if it weren't for your scout we would've died. The scout told us where to go...." The woman rambled on her story, and Kurt nodded politely in acknowledgement, but kept his eyes on the curious boy.

".... But sir.... I must ask you a favour. My sons and I have family along the coastlands and will go there, but this one here.... Well... ah... he doesn't belong to us." She gestured to the boy.

Kurt blinked back into the conversation and nodded to the woman, "Certainly. When you and your sons are feeling up to it we will get you some rations and you can make your way to your family."

The older woman and the two young men with her exited through the canvas flaps, repeating their thanks the whole way out. Kurt kept his eyes on the boy.

When they were gone, Kurt looked over to the boy, who was now turning to face Kurt. A hand went up to the cap on his head and he pulled it off, eyes locked with Kurt's the whole time. He had a shock of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He pressed his lips together and then spoke.

"Sir. My name is Jeff. I work... worked in the castle. I can only guess you're planning to make a move on Dalton and I'd like to offer you any information I can in exchange for helping to get my friends out of the castle."

Kurt's eyebrows rose. Well, his day had gotten more interesting.