It was barely one month in my employ under Madame Vastra that saw to the unveiling of a traitor within our ranks.

By then, I had accustomed to the docile planet of 'London', though Madame's boy companion claims the planet is called 'Earth'. Either way, this planet will be blown to smithereens when the Greater Sontaran Empire finds it.

It was on a rare occasion that I was allowed to accompany Madame and her boy companion on a 'case', as they called it. A 'case', as I've found out, is no threat, and cannot be dismembered with automated splicers.

Out in the filthy alleyways where some humans call their home, Madame Vastra and the boy cornered this other human. Female, by my judgement.

"Parker? What on Earth are you doing here?" asked Madame. Personally, I would have destroyed the puny human first before I started asking questions. Nevertheless, they continued.

"Either way, you're cornered now. Spit it out—what're y' doin' 'ere?" the boy demanded. I've yet to question why his voice sounds so feminine...possibly the side-effects of disliking war.

The cornered human seemed to split into two. Upon further inspection, it was holding another body, seemingly unable to speak.

"M'a garrotter, ain't I? I's a thing fer us cabbies t' be garrotters, innit? Thought, why not? Easy bit o' money, an' they can't even scream when yer nabbin' 'em!"

I, at this point, was struggling to decipher what this expendable being was trying to tell us, but it seemed the boy understood. And the Mistress. It was hard to tell. My patience was wearing thin, and I couldn't help but ask.

"Shall I destroy it?"

For the first time on the planet London, Madame Vastra said 'Yes'.

The chase was reputation-offendingly short, and I never realised just how pathetically weak human bodies are. The endothermic-X grenades barely finished before her body was a pitiful pile of ice shards on the ground. Shame, I was saving my voltage harpoon for the occasion. Nothing beats the feeling of wrenching your victim from their location with a fully-electrified harpoon! Well, apart from watching them dissolve to nothing in acid...or painting the world red with their blood with the use of grenades, or setting them on fire to shoot them down with laser bunnies...the list continues.

Ashamedly, my nursing skills also had to be put to use on that night. The victim of the garrotter—now confirmed to be called Parker—had lost his (or her?) voice due to pressure on the larynx. I will not disclose method of treatment; such a statement would destroy all honour I ever had.

I later found out what these so-called 'garrotters' are. They temporarily render their victim mute by crushing the voice box in-between their fists. Without the ability to call for help, the victim's possession are taken, as is, in most cases, their consciousness. If you ask me, garrotters are cowardly pests that this planet must be rid of. Kill your victim, for a start! Finish the job! And wallow in their cry for mercy! Let the whole world know that you are over-powering another being for your own greater glory!

Shortly after that, I was appointed to be a 'cabbie' for Madame Vastra and the boy. My only comrade is the horse, and its navigation skills are awful considering its occupation. They don't make great conversationalists over grenades either.

However, they are very tasty. Humans don't appreciate the luxury of horse meat; they say they're not for eating. They prefer pork, or beef. Why, a young lad in the market a day ago was offering to sell me horse-meat, and was selling it off as beef! He didn't know that the offer was to my benefit, not his!

Ah, but I am digressing now. Time to sign off; it's grenade practice tomorrow!

Soldier's Footnotes: As my duty as a soldier demands it, my work must be of highest quality that I can muster. Feedback from fellow soldiers is the most efficient path to create field reports of the highest quality.

As a soldier, memory was not a largely improved gift that was bestowed upon us. Therefore, it is suggested that teammates would give 'trigger words', as these humans call it, to aid in the formation of another field report. Who knows, the right word could lead us to a greater battle!

Human's Notes: Bonus points if you picked up on the horse meat reference! Anyway, no-one else seemed to be doing a Strax POV fic, so here I am. Hi. As Strax mentioned, trigger words and reviews are most welcome. I am genuinely enjoying writing these, so all's good!