Midwest, 1930
He looked forward to the day his uncle came over every single day of the year. His uncle was in the army, but did come back to visit from time to time. He was the exact opposite of his brother. He was kind, subtle, quiet, and shy. Soldier loved him.
"I've got a gift for you, little guy." He told Soldier, smiling. He passed him a small red book, wrapped up in brown paper. Soldier hid it in his jacket, and waited until the next night to read it. He had to sneak a flashlight into his bed to be able to see the words.
Sun Tzu's Art of War. Soldier didn't know much about war, but he was pretty sure that art and war didn't mix. But he read it for his uncle. It seemed kind of boring at first, but then Soldier saw that there was kind of an art to fighting.
It said that by finding the principles of both army, and the root of why and how they were fighting, it was possible to predict the outcome of any war. His reading was substandard, but he spent all of his spare time reading that book until he finished it.
He promised himself that when his uncle came back, he was going to tell him everything he learned from that book. But one day, his dad saw him reading it. "What's that?" Demanded his dad. "A book? Tell me you didn't steal it!" Soldier opened his mouth to respond, but his dad had already snatched it away.
"It's useless. You'd be better off studying." He tossed the book into their fire. Soldier once again opened his mouth to protest, but his mother put a calming hand on his back. "Ssh…" She calmed. He didn't say a word as his dad retreated to his study.
His mother told him that the reason Soldier's dad hated his brother was because he had always been smarter, and when he got accepted into the army while Soldier's father hadn't, his jealousy had turned into hatred. Soldier promised himself that he would be in the army one day.
He just had to be a soldier. He just had to.
Teufort, 1972
When the ceasefire finally ended, no one was more prepared than soldier. His trusty shovel was brought out of storage. His head was protected by his helmet, and his rocket launcher was loaded and ready. He scolded his teammates for putting preparations up to the last minute as they listened to the mission briefing.
Miss Pauling, their mysterious boss's assistant, began to fill them in. "Builders' League United has secured the entirety of the dustbowl area. They have begun to build fortifications, and your mission is to capture it before they are able to complete the defences."
She rolled out a map. "Dustbowl is divided into three areas, each of which has a two central 'points' that you must capture and claim for our company. Now, they will undoubtedly be defended by BLU's own team of mercenaries. Now, the respawn is highly unstable technology. It will return you back to our base and bring you back from the dead as long as it is active."
"The respawn machine is fuelled by Australium, the most valuable element known to man. As such, we don't want to waste it. Reliable Excavation and Demolition has agreed to keep it turned on for fifteen minutes, after which you will stay dead. So if you want to succeed (and get paid) you need to capture it before the time runs out."
Scout butted in. "Yeah, yeah, we've all heard this briefing a thousand times. What I want to know, is how come BLU gets to come back from the dead, too? What's the point in fighting a war where no one ever stays dead?"
Miss Pauling rolled her eyes. "I'm not paid to explain war to under aged mercenaries. You're working for us, and you're just going to have to get used to it." Scout looked like he was ready to argue, but then it seemed to dawn on him that he was getting nowhere.
"All right." He said. "Let's go kick some butt."