It was a cool, cloudy wet day. Chilling winds flew around the fabric, crusted with mud and tears throughout the uniform. Sweat and blood flowing like streams of water, and sped down to the earth. Faster and faster James darts for his haven. Reaches his point, and off he rode in the moving vehicle, while inside the radios buzz with chatter, both sides of his own and the inside of the troop vehicle. As he stared back at his friend's grave, he watched in anger and sadness as it became a sinkhole. The explosion coming from beneath the hell house he and his gone comrades had entered, shook the Earth like the long awaited Earthquake and jerked his vehicle violently to its side sending it into a series of rolls and flips. The radio chatter now was more silent than before. White noise, and chopped sentences and requests of help only came through. James could not believe the catastrophe he had just witnessed. The battle surrounding the once main objective had now calmed, and the tears of the sky began to set in.

Broken, he slowly crawled out of the vehicle, helicopters and dark grey clouds with a light blue dark accented sky fly over him. Other vehicles around him lay damaged with royal soldiers of the New Order limp around and carry the injured to medical transports. Some not so lucky. James witnesses a support carrier unit, M.A.C. (Mobile, Attack, Carrier) , ablaze in flames and crumpled like paper. Half way out, a man, a comrade, lies in flames. Mobile forces and marching men hurry towards James's position from the distance, from the F.O.B. (Forward Operating Base) James Roy's heart had been torn. All the training and major advancements in his military career had led to his closest brothers in a resting place no other human had ever dug a grave for, but for he and his comrades alone. Had the mission really been accomplished? Commandent Major Roy of the 3rd Lancer Elite stands with tears dripping from his eyes down to his cut, bruised cheeks and thus the Earth, splashing down to soil. Quitting was always an option for James, but it was not in his nature. Finally, chatter through all the radios buzz freely. Colonel Pesh has gotten ahold of Roy,

" Commandent Major Roy, I'm glad you got out of their son, but I am sorry about your outfit. You and your team were one of the best our Royal Army had to offer. I am really sorry, but now I got a transport to get you back to the F.O.B. for a briefing for our next objective. We have the squash (Military term for Septem malitia) on retreat on certain fronts. You son, as a soldier for our great army, have done a tremendous duty for our royal lands."

General Pesh's voice was coarse and determined, yet passionate and understanding, like a father speaking to a child in trouble. Seconds have passed, and James is silent, the cool breeze and drops of rain fall upon him lightly for it was only sprinkling that day, but it's presence gave a sad mourning aura. Soldiers around him rush about to secure positions. Some carry the dead and wounded, others fidget with machinery and electronics. A couple of tanks stroll past James towards the sinkhole, then around it. Still James hasn't responded, Colonel Pesh replies,

" James? You there son? This is a very important mission!"

James's eyes slightly widen, and reaches for his radio, and his eyes become a little more moist and pink than before. James replies," So were my brothers, my family."

James then quickly yanks the radio out along with its cord loose from its secure position coming from near his neck, down to his back, and last from an electronic device. He stares solely at his broken device, puts it against a wall and strikes it with several emotional blows until it was nothing more but scrap and electronic dust. He now sobs and is enraged with what had just recently occurred. Other soldiers stop for a moment and stare at Roy, their expressions show sympathy and sadness. Although some of the infantry wear military issued bio hazard protective masks from the blown up compound, containing bio hazardous materials. Yet their sadness can still be sensed. Some even whisper amongst each other,

" that's Roy from the Lancer Elite!" Or," Shit! Do you know who that is? That's legendary no-pain James!"

Commandent Major Roy just walks with a stern sad face, past the soldiers towards the Mayclaire Skyline downtown district. It was a long ways from where he was but he found a way, he just wanted to get out of that miserable place.

The rain slides, and blankets the walls and floors as it falls from the gray moist sky. People rush about their day, businesses surprisingly still open from wanting customers, and James strolls through the downtown district. He had gotten a ride from a medic transport heading to Mayclaire Genreral Hospital.

When he jumped on, immediately the sergeant answered,

" Get off soldier, no cowards aboard. That's an order!"

The sergeant quickly realizes Roy's uniform and quickly responds,

" My apologies sir. I-I, I thou- ",

James cuts in,

" No worries sergeant. You just did what you needed to do. I can't blame you for your duty, but I am taking this as transportation."

The sergeant replies,

" Of course sir, glad of us to help you sir. "

James sits and thinks of the trouble he could get from his superior officers, although he had the thought of his comrades deeply engraved in his mind and did not care much for his superiors.

During the trip, the sergeant asked Roy,

" Are you hurt Sir? "

James took a little time to respond and said,

" Yes. "

The sergeant replies,

" Where are you injured Sir? "

James had cuts and bruises all over him. His uniform had been threw war, his face covered with dried blood, cuts and

bruising. His military issued gloves had been torn and shredded, exposing his naked hand, and from that moment, he just sat staring at them.

James, with slight anger, replies,

" No one can fix where I have been injured, it will be embedded in me for the rest of my days, and beyond that. The scars will never go away, the wounds will always stay exposed and burn me. Choices were made sergeant, choices that cause many to never return. These choices were made by our esteemed superior officers. We follow orders sergeant, exactly how you will answer to mine. However people you grow close to, will also grow apart of you. When they are gone, part of you is gone as well. I have been seriously injured sergeant, I have seen my own family killed right in front of me! They followed orders! As did I! "

James, was clenching his fists very tightly, and his eyes were moist. He paused for a while to get his bearings.

He came back with,

" I know you don't mean any harm. You are just following orders, how a good soldier would. I had to listen and take action. For you sergeant, you have done all you need to. Now what is your name?"

"Sergeant Backler, 22nd Rescue, Sir." ,

" I'm thankful for your service Backler."

The sergeant with a little glee responds,

"Thank you Sir. It's a great honor to be in your presence. You have accomplished many tremendous feats I only ever dream of. "

"Thanks, now how far till we reach the hospital? "

"We are just turning up to it now Sir. There was a lot of traffic because of the battle at the compound. "

"Thank you sergeant for the ride, I appreciate it."

"It was a pleasure Sir. "

A patient in a gurney, in the medi-transport, said to James with a bit of struggle in his voice, and while saluting,

"Sir.. "

James came over the wounded soldier and gently put his hand on the wounded man's head, then saluted back, then left. Once he reached the hospital, he exited the vehicle. The trip was long and weary, for most of that time, James was mourning for his comrades.

James was off to his temporary home where they had his unit stationed. It was an apartment complex with really not much taste. It was a simple apartment with one bedroom, one kitchen, and one bathroom. There was barely any furniture, but there was a television. When James had gone through the lobby and passed many people, many of them stopped and looked at him. They had sympathy in their eyes, one gentlemen was even applauding James for his service, but it wasn't at the right time. Finally James had reached his room.

He entered and the automated voice recognition answered,

"Commandent Major Roy of the 3rd Lancer Elite, active number: 204378, are you present? "

James calmly replies,

"Yes, this is Roy."

The security machine was running its scan, and replies,

" Welcome back James! "

"I hate to disappoint you, but I might not be here too long. "

" Well I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay."

Said the machine with a little bit of happiness.

James's room had a closet where he kept his different uniforms, he stored his Lancer light, ceremonial, casual, and different camo colored. He felt like he needed a new beginning, and a fresh start. All the madness had swarmed him, and he needed a drink. That would solve everything, right? James had gotten rid of his old war torn gear, and went to take a shower. It was incredible how close the battle was to his and his comrades living quarters. He could see the smoke and devastation from his window. The shower was nice and warm, and the warm liquids spread around him like a smooth moist shell. It washed away the dirt, it washed away the dried blood, it washed away the sweat, but it could not wash away his loss of his closest friends. After, he had put on his Commandent uniform, with his Lancer Elite patch and his many other patches of achievements in his military career. That uniform was a rarity, even many superiors had not earned the uniform. James was truly one of a kind.

As he began his walk through the city towards the nearest pub, he noticed all the people looking at him. He did not care, he had nothing to do with them. He just wanted to get time alone. He wanted to be away from his superiors and and commanding officers. Even though there weren't many, because Roy had achieved the rank of being able to out rank many in the army, except the High Order Commands of both Secondary and Prime. Still, there were others who out ranked him. And he knew that they would be after him, for fleeing the battlefield and a abandoning his position. Roy was on the lookout.

Finally, James had reached the pub. A place of song and lost memories. Here, New Order recruits come and drink with their comrades. Sounds of laughter and conversations fill the space of this tavern, then suddenly went dead silent, and the mood quickly became cold, sorrow. All knew what had happened, and they felt Roy's pain. There was a pause, and Roy was standing a little beyond the entrance, looking at all, and all looking back. The tavern was filled with civilians and soldiers, all enjoying themselves. All on break.

Finally, a sergeant, rose up out from his game of cards with other cadets and spoke loudly,

" Commandent Major Present! "

He was at attention, and all other soldiers quickly rose and went into attention stance. Some were already standing. The civilians, even though they were not apart of the military, stood up in respect, one by one they all rose.

James looked back at all men, and commands,

" At ease, gentlemen. "

Everyone subtly returned to their previous activities, and James headed toward the bar stools. Now the music was back up, people were laughing and having joy, yet the mood was a bit toned down. James was sitting at the bar, checking his I.T. (Information Tablet) for any agendas or goals sent to him by his superiors. There was a message. The message had told James to return to the F.O.B, or Colonel Pesh would send a unit to retrieve him. James knew what that meant. If he disobeyed, he could get into a bad situation. Nonetheless, James stood his ground and wanted to be away from "work. " James sat there, and felt the fine wood on his hands. Soft and cold. He thought about what would come next to him.Will he continue to stay in the military? As of now, Roy wants nothing more, but isolation from terror. The lights were dim, the windows were crisp like ice. The clouds above embraced the sky with open arms, yet, in the distance, darkened clouds and scarred grounds engulfed the Earth. All was fine, for they were all in safety from the battles. Only traffic, and the cold could have done barely any harm to any anyone here.

The bartender approached James, and said,

" James. "

Roy replied,

" Gary, listen, no need to say anything now. I greatly appreciate your sympathy, but for now, I need to get through this. "

Gary leaned over, and quietly answered,

" Fuck James, what are you going to do? Are you on standby? "

" No, I left the position. "

"They will be after you, hell, they're probably down the street. Listen, I had been in the Elites for years. Things get tough out there. You've got to understand, there was a chance this would happen. "

" Yeah, I know. "

" So what will it be? "

At this moment, James would have went with some alcohol to ease his sorrow, but he knew that he would rather stay sane than do something stupid.

" Water."

"Ok,"

James observed the bar as Gary went off to retrieve a glass. He noticed all the cadets on break, enjoying each other's company. But James knew war changes a man from his original state. Now, a squad of five Order Guards had entered the bar. Gary had returned to James in that process and placed the water in front of him. James was thinking of his next move, he had equipped himself with a U45 Tactical, a specialized pistol the Order Elites had access to.

James was thinking of using it until Gary told James,

" Don't do it, it's not worth the trouble. Let it play out and I'm sure you'll get your say in all this. It wasn't your fault. "

James didn't reply, but gave an assuring nod. He then drank all his water pretty quickly and left money to cover his cost. The Order Guards had surrounded him in a half circle fashion, and all in the bar knew what was happening.

James faced them, and the head Order Guard commanded James,

" Commandent Major Roy, you are ordered to the F.O.B. For further instruction, precede with us. "

James stared down the head guard and looked around the room. All soldiers and civilians were watching all that happened. Even though Roy had out ranked many, certain protocols would allow for the order guards to order him under the certain circumstances. Other than that, James would have easily been able to order the guards. Just when James began to head towards the 5 guards, colonel Pesh appeared behind them.

He said,

" James I'm not punishing you. I just want to talk to you. Guards clear way! No need to be harsh. "

James went outside and walked into the chilled air. Sirens were heard in the distance and the rush of people as well. 2 vehicles wait outside, a sedan and an SUV. James and Pesh entered the sedan as the guards got into the SUV. Both vehicles were heading toward the F.O.B. Once there, both Pesh and James made their way to a briefing room to discuss the events of the compound. As they entered the main building the Order Guards retreated to other duties and continued on, while Pesh and James went on their way. Pesh and James walked by many halls and rooms that were once hosted for parties, and weddings, but now had been converted into medical stations, tech rooms, and other things of that nature to help with the war effort to stop Septem militia and Red Bands ( A term for Septem special forces) in the Order controlled districts. Now, there is a Septem nation that fight organized and have their own armies, but here in these sectors, pockets of Red Bands had been deployed to intercept and eliminate key command points and high order officials and to train militia rebel groups within the L.N.O. (Legions of the New Order) territories. James had encountered them earlier at the compound. They proved powerful and dangerous.