Ghost Recon: The Gate

by Peacekeeper 37

Captain Scott Mitchell of the Ghost Recon Special Forces group has seen more than his fair share of war. But NO ONE could have seen this coming. A simple black ops mission in Japan to assassinate a Yakuza with plans for a dirty bomb after a few years of relative peace leads to a conflict with might and magic from a 'Gate.' A new chapter for Ghost Recon has been opened.

25. Filler (no joke)

AN: Well… certainly has been a long time hasn't it? School, work and family have certainly taken time. Not to mention my grandmother recovering from a heart attack, some insane weather every now and then, going through internet outages TWICE, one from some maintenance and another from an upgrade being incorrectly done. Not to mention the purchasing of Tom Clancy books such as The Bear and the Dragon and Debt of Honor. Not to mention Stan Lee and Stephen Hillenburg are no longer among us. First Gunny, then McCain, now these two... it's a lot of shit for me to bear.

And not only that, I've been looking back on my stuff and am thinking of doing a few small changes… most notable with Rory…

"What change? You ask?"

How about changing her from looking like something straight out of Akibahara to something a bit more… sensible? Let's be honest, this is a world where despite other notable differences like knights n legionaries and all, does a loli-type girl in loli-type clothes really make sense? I didn't really think about it until now… stupid me eh?

Regardless of that, most of the changes will be revolving around this and perhaps a few tidbits, nothing really important.

Ok. Enough of that, time for you to read.

Dwarven City.

Karak-Azgan. The greatest of all dwarven cities, home of the High King was basically the 'Sadera' of dwarvenkind. The greatest of the cities and pretty much the center. The mightietst and most populous and the capital of Glondol's kingdom. To inherit such a place is a great and demanding honor.

It was at one time, far greater than Sadera. But that was when she had no empire, now? The two are rivals in appearance. Who has the better looking city? Azgan is accessed by the hole that Molt had used as well as smaller more secluded entrances throughout the mountain, many hidden from view within the winding pass that cuts along this great mountain range. As you round yet another outcrop on your long trach through this pass, you will find the great massive hole. Should you possess the means or the courage to delve in, you shall be met with a sheer path of ever noticeable architecture that will take your breath away, some nearly 400 feet tall.

Of course, no visitor ever approaches unnoticed, after all, the Dwarf King had responded to Molt very quickly. You would be spied on by the many hidden sentries that overlook the pass. As he was emperor of Sadera and friend of the king, he was basically given free passage. Others would be met by a dwarf or two bearing to be gatekeepers.

Should one make it through all this and reach the great city. The experience would be worth the pain and suffering.

The city is made from the very stone of the mountain, carved by dwarves and giant moles alike, making room for the giant bats that now hang around or become mounts. It is as lively, bustling, and rich as any surface city. What makes them different is their government and the existence of guilds. Molt was with Glondol within the great feasting hall, course after course of roasted meat and endless ale all for them to enjoy among the rest of the high ranking dwarves. Of course they managed to have some Saderan wine. Some dwarves go for it, though it's for the most part, too weak for them in comparison to their own ale. It's mostly for the ambassadors from their human allies. The meat was fine though. Fine indeed. Not only was it a feast to celebrate the emperor's presence, it was a chance for one of the most popular of Dwarven activities. Ale drinking contests. Who could drink the most? Not fastest, not hardest, the most. So far the drinking was still going after about 10 big tankards about the size of a human's head plus another half. But it began to dwindle around 12 until finally only one was left at 21, happened to be Glondol's son.

After the eventful occasion, the two sovereigns made way to the highest point of the city, where the king resided. Up here you could see the entire damned city, as big as Sadera itself if not bigger. But that's not the sight that held them as they were to rest within thehold as it was not in the very top they went to. But rather to the chambers below that. The chambers where more sensitive things are dealt with, where only the king and those he allows may reside. No windows, no other exits, no nothing. Just one door in and out. There in this room Glondol sat upon his designated seat, Molt and Octavia sitting on his flanks, looking upon the proposed design of this new weapon. Carefully stroking his beard in thought as he looked over the designs. Dwarves are proud craftsmen and efficient builders. They are also very conservative however, preferring to use tried and true as opposed to new and untested. That is not to say new ideas are discouraged, it is simply a matter of balancing traditions with genius. And the Dwarves are truly genius. Sadera is without a doubt the most powerful of armies, but in line with learning from those around them as well as innovation, Sadera improved its siege warfare from the short beings of the mountains. The Dwarves had better ballistae and what have you when looking at the quality. And have been improving and making more kinds as time passed.

But what was here was something far more ambitious. The blending of not just a human and Dwarven idea to create a whole new idea, but of NEW human ideas and Dwarven runes. Runes were of pure Dwarven design, as they themselves were incapable of using magic like the other races in the world. So they used runes to harness magic and use it for a specific purpose. For thousands of years, they have guarded the secrets of this form of magic. They still do. This does not mean runes are seen outside of Dwarven society, but it's so so rare, considering the Empire and other nations have no need of them. They range from the simple and mundane such as the many lights that illuminate the Dwarven cities to give the illusion of daytime, to the powerful such as weapon enhancements. They are careful to bind and hold the magic in its rune for safe use. It takes patience, hard work, and dedication. But once mastered, a Dwarf can pump them out as though they were mass production lines.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing they brought with them. Molt had brought an Other-Worlder weapon with him to show Glondol just what they were up against.

"This is… this is quite a proposal." Glondol murmered. "Creating a weapon that harnesses magic to rival that?" Referring to the weapon of the Other-Worlders.

"Indeed. Something to bring into our arsenal to fight back. Perhaps even revolutionize our military."

"And that weapon there. Ba hah! And they say no human, no matter where he comes from, can come up with something better than a dwarf! The Engineering Guilds will grumble for centuries about this! All the while tryin to make more of em! And don't get me started with these orbs of yours. They'll think you're tryin to copy em and make a big grudge about it."

"So you can understand why I'm here and taking such a risk."

"You need say no more. We know where your empire stands with us friend. I am ready to lend you anymore help you may need. But it's going to be a big headache to convince the guilds to agree to this."

"If anyone can do it, it'll be you."

"Mmmmmrgh. If only. They can influence much of what happens around here. Thank the Halls it isn't as crazy as your own politics." He joked, leading to Molt laughing loudly. Dwarven society does not have politics. Not in the way we understand it. If there's some kind of backroom deal, it's not for power jockeying, advantageous votes, or any of the less than noble instances that often happen in human politics. Dwarves are too loyal and honest for such petty things like 'position' and 'power.' Such things are for their own safety and secrecy, such as the prevention of particular secrets of siege weapons being shared, or the sharing of runic magic. And it is for this reason that they would have such a hard time to reason with the guild, who bore the means of using such power. The guild, being the ones with the power to decide on new inventions are not merciless though. Their strict demeanor of high standards has purpose. They are so adamant on using the tried and tested because the tried and tested carries little risk. Nothing that can't survive a week-long grumble can't be expected to hold up for centuries. Better any flaws be found now than found when an innocent dwarf be injured or worse in normal use. Once a flaw is found, they expect the inventor to take the wisdom and criticism to heart and improve. And this is how all innovations have been made.

"Let us hope their loyalty to us is stronger than their secrets to their treasures and runes. So far we've lost 3 castra to them, one was wiped off the map."

"Indeed, I recall quite well. I hear some inventors are grumbling day and night over the notion of such creations dropping these 'bombs' as you call them by the hundreds. It's unfathomable. And I'm a DWARF! Nothing is unfathomable to us!" Glondol cried out sipping the ale he had with him. "So, Octavia, was it? Explain this to me, will you?"

"Well it starts with our Tallian Orb. It's originally something to assist in making siege weapons easier to move without dismantling them. That function works. It is here we do something differently, not long after our breakthrough that I had my brainstorm after sleepless nights of trying to figure out how we can fight against the Other-Worlders by copying their weapons. But it was imitation, not innovation. So, in a moment of as yet to be proven genius, I came up with this."

"Hah! You humans are crafty if nothing."

Castra Maximus

Sadera's rise to being an empire didn't simply begin when they began being an empire.

Before the concept of Sadera was even a thing. What was Falmart like? Well it certainly had civilizations and nations before, but not on this scale. Sadera, at this time, didn't even exist yet. Of course many do not truly recall when exactly the city itself was founded in its days of simply being a small village of simple people. But history, especially ancient history, is a fickle thing. In OUR world as much as this one. The Saderans, like the Romans, weren't destined by some divine power to create the largest empire in Falmart, even with the blessings and guidance of their gods. It was a long, arduous journey of decisions made over generations. There are so many ways Rome simply could've never rose. The brutality of human warfare in these times has been forgotten in the modern world with smart bombs, gunships and nuclear weapons being prominent. Even during the most catastrophic of days of the world wars, the cities destroyed were still rebuilt. Hiroshima, Stalingrad, Dresden. They were all obliterated. Yet today all are still populous cities. For most of human civilization there have been many occasions where a city is not just simply destroyed.

It's annihilated.

Its foundations uprooted like a dying tree ripped from the very ground by the winds of a hurricane. The entire populous enslaved, raped and murdered until all that is left is dust and echoes. Antioch was once a center of Christendom until the Muslims killed every inhabitant in 1260. Carthage was once an empire, but after 3 wars Rome wiped it from the map. Troy was thought to be just a simple legend until discoveries revealed it was indeed a real city in western Anatolia. Rome easily could've met this fate at some time in its history. Like in 387 B.C. when Gauls sacked the city. It was this that encouraged Rome to invest in a militaristic culture. It could be so easy that Rome was wiped out if the attack was strong and savage enough. While Sadera never suffered the wrath of such attacks, they were still an underdog. A minor force. An insignificant town. But time flows ever onward, and through the millennia, Sadera grew and grew. Until it became what we see it as today. But to do this one needs an army. And the larger a nation becomes, the larger the army must be. And Sadera's army is indeed large. Comprised of countless millions of citizens spread among the cities, towns and villages. Nearly hundreds of legions supported by a vast array of auxiliary cohorts, steeds, siege weapons and monsters. Alongside these men are the mages and wizards to augment and mystify their own forces.

And were it not for the other wars, time to rally them, and the very fact that it would hamper the day to day management of the empire itself. Not even the Otherworlders could hope to stop them should Sadera concentrate its entire military might.

Regardless. The path to victory was through the soldier. And in Sadera, the politicians and generals are one in the same. And a general needs soldiers to lead. Given the martial culture that Sadera is well known for, every male child is schooled, and the girls taken to learn how to be wives, caretakers, healers and should their upbringing be fortunate enough, perhaps bankers or landowners. Upon the age of 10, boys were taken to training. They are taken to a castrum or outpost or other proper military installation and enter 'Et Schnis disciplinam.' The Early Discipline. The idea was to make these boys better prepared for the training of a legionary later on in life when they became 18. They are strictly taught and punished in the art, but it would prepare them for the true harsh training ahead. Better ready for the sparring practices, the marching in formation and the calls of the trumpets. The one thing they are truly stressed into learning is the marching, for a formation can be the best in weaponry and morale, but if split up, was like ice. Once cracked, broken. Even so. All Saderans, even the poorest, are able to become a soldier. And as the empire grew and grew and more of the conquered eventually became citizens, more and more legions formed. The Imperial Army is a large mishmash of different colors and peoples bearing allegiance ot the Emperor.

When they turn 18, they go to their mandatory training and are given wooden weapons and shields twice the weight of the real thing, further allowing strength to develop. Along with that, the recruits are taught how to swim and set up camp, and like in their boyhood training, discipline. They are drilled twice a day. This lasted for about 6 months. Discipline was the key, the heart and soul of the army. Punishments ranged from spending the night outside the camp to fustuarium, clubbing, to stoning. The greatest of offences were dealt with by decimating a legion. It had a different meaning to Sadera, like the Romans, where every 10th man in a legion is executed by his fellow legionaries.

This is a reality all Saderan men up to their retirement age hold unto themselves. And with the fact that the Otherworlders have shown signs of advancing with virtually no opposition around Alnus while taking their time in picking where to attack, most forces hold behind their forts in an effort to contain their sphere of advance while other forces prepare themselves however they can. In this case, extra crossbow training and an emphasis on defense. This was the case for Marius Titus. Son of Legate Leontius currently serving alongside Savagii in Ictan. His training was closing into completion. All that was left now was additional crossbow training. The Senate had recently decided to have all legions perform additional crossbow practice in anticipation of Otherworld attacks. The legionary, while more often used in hand to hand with gladius and scutum, was capable of the use of the crossbow. While the elven auxiliaries and those of the minor nations not yet under Saderan rule and those beyond their continent were undoubtedly far superior in range and accuracy, the crossbowman did not need the years of experience and training. Even in Europe, it was used extensively. It's potential had led to one 12th century Pope to make a ban of the weapon on the grounds of it being unfair. The ban failed.

But unlike the crossbows of the Middle Ages, the modern Saderan crossbow was a result of ingenuity of Saderan and Dwarven origins. They include a mechanism of pullies and a lever. The legionary pulls the lever, which pulls the string back to the nut or catch. The crossbow possesses a flight groove running along the middle where the bolt is placed. A small crack that lines along the groove allows the string to fire the bolt ahead. As one would expect, a deal of strength is needed to effectively pull it back at the desired rate. The training helped with that indeed. The usual rate was about 12 to 16 bolts a minute in. The additional training was an attempt to increase this rate to perhaps 18 or even 24. To one, this may sound impossible, and they would be right. However it was like the Prussians who were drilled to fire 6 shots a minute. Impossible in any circumstance, but allowed them to fire at least one shot more than the other guy.

Of course the Saderans would never be able to match or exceed Otherworldly firepower, but in these times, you do what you can.

"Marius! Speed it up, you're falling behind!" The instructor shouted. Marius did not vocally respond, only ushered himself to quicken his pace. He was due to finish his training within the next few days. If he was to complete his training properly, he HAD to do it like every other legionary. His accuracy was average and he needed to improve upon that quickly lest he come home to disappoint his father and lose a chance to deploy against the Otherworlders and become a hero like his father. Of course being admitted into the legions of Sadera didn't mean you would immediately go to war, especially with the many millions in reserve. Every man a legionary after all. Still, Marius had a good feeling after this he would be deployed into a legion. Last he heard the 14th and 28th were still replenishing numbers, and they'd be eager to get back at the Otherworlders for Alnus Hill. Perhaps he'd go to the Uzca forests or the Western Desert. But he was certain it would be down in Ictan or near the Otherworlders. You ask him. He was ready for the task. He knew how to march in formation for 20 miles in 5 hours. He knew how to attack from behind his scutum while staying in formation and go to the back when the signal was given. Forming testudo, setup a tent, take part in making a fort. And now bettering himself at crossbows.

"ENOUGH!" The instructor shouts. "Training is OVER! You will have an hour to yourself! After that, we go marching!"

With that said and done, the men at practice went to mingle about the castrum. It's strange that Marius, a son of a wealthy Saderan Legate, and therefore senator, would be among the rest of the legionaries, those whose backgrounds range from poor farmers to middle classmen. But this is just to show you that the nation expects all its men to learn how to fight. And should he press strong enough through the trials of battle, well, there's always a need for centurions. Though with the many men at ready in the empire already, many many new recruits may never see battle after they complete their mandatory training. Though Marius has his hopes up in these matters. For the moment he is still in training. And as of now headed for his barracks to rest. Unlike others. He didn't gamble, so he's saved up most of his wages. Not to mention his viaticum. His 3 suwani coins from when he enlisted. And being son of a Legate, well he doesn't really have to worry about getting land after his service. Or the money he saved up really, he just found it easier to save up.

Entering his barracks, only a few men of other contubernia were around. Just take a while to rest for the upcoming march.

"Aye! Can you believe the instructors? They're riding us harder on the crossbows than they are with the gladius!" Said Servius, one of the men in Marius's contubernuim. He was currently eating a bowel of puls. Or porridge. Currently sitting at a small table with the rest of the men. "And here I was told I'd be engaging the enemy face to face like the many men of our history!"

"We have to deal with the fact that our biggest enemy is using weapons that outrange us, my friend." Spoke Lucius. Currently lazing on his own cot.

"Yeah yeah I know but you'd think we'd be sent over elsewhere, perhaps where the orcs live!"

"What makes you think we'll see service?" Asked Rictus. "Chances are we'll be sent back to our homes until we're called upon, something I hope doesn't happen quickly."

"PFFT! How can you say that, Rictus? You've been acting as though a maiden of Miritta every time this issue comes up!" Lucius cried out.

"It could mean we're loosing more men than we're recruiting."

"We have many many many men in reserves. It will take a thousand battles to wipe out at least half of them!"

"Chances are it won't take that long at this rate. You've heard they took another Castrum, haven't you?"

"We have many castra across Falmart! We have time on our side!"

"Shut up. All of you." Marius said. "You can talk and complain all you wish, but unless someone gets out on the field, no one is going to stop the Otherworlders anytime soon."

"I take it you have an idea, son of Leontius?" Spat Lucius.

"I do. Finish training and push to get to the front lines." Marius answered.

"You're crazy. Have you been spending too much time in the shrine to Emroy?" Rictus said. "Especially given how you could just go back home and have a comfy life with your father. You could basically have whatever you wish."

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life within the confines of luxury and comfort. I'm here to prepare to fight for the empire. You mean to say you have no such desires?" He answered with sudden disdain.

"Hey. I'm willing to do my part for the empire! I'd prefer doing something on a less militaristic side. Like farming endless amounts of grain in a latifundium." Servius responded.

"I have a good spot in an amphora factory for when I leave training." Rictus voiced.

"How about you, Cervus? You have plans for after training?" The fifth mentioned soldier was sitting on his cot cleaning his helmet.

"I have a goldsmith to go back to. There's plenty of gems and jewels from the land of little horses to smith and craft." The remaining legionaries, Aries, Veletio and Emerio were elsewhere, likely outside the barracks gambling. "Still, what's your take on all this? The whole going up against 4 enemies at a time with one of them being from another world. You think we may be biting off more than we can chew this time?"

"HAH!" Lucius laughed. "We are the Saderan Empire! It is within our nature to fight our foes no matter their size or skill! And because of it we continue to grow while they shrink into obscurity!"

"At the cost of men. That's unavoidable. It would not greatly concern me if it wasn't for the fact that one of our foes wiped out almost 4 entire legions within days. And defeat the vassals, and take our castra." Spoke Rictus. "If we're to fight these Otherworlders, we need to follow the footsteps of our forefathers and change. Fast." Rictus responded.

"You know that's just it. We have so many damned reserves! Why not gather as many as we can and send them all to fight? We could easily bury them!" Servius said.

"We could. It's just a matter of how long it would take in that case. And how many men we lose. The more men we lose the bigger the impact on the running of our empire if we go that route."

"Which is why we must be able to act as soon as we can!" Marius declared standing up. "Tactics strategy and planning are of course important, but one cannot win a war without soldiers. The sooner we get to the front, the sooner we will be able to perform that duty and do what the empire requires of us. We were fated to be soldiers and it is up to us to forge our destinies."

"Well my destiny is to work in the latifundium. I have no problem with the grain harvests. I mean you can't always have slaves harvesting the fruits of labor, right?" Servius said.

"And to fight you need money. Money that can be gained from the business of gem-shaping." Cervus added.

"Oh you're just coming up with excuses to not get out into the battlefield and go back home." Lucius chided. The other two legionaries just scoffed. Servius went back to eating, and Marius took to sitting back down. At least until a knock was heard on the window. There was the young face of Aries looking through the window expectantly.

"Oh boy. Here we go again. Don't open the window he's going to ask for more denari." Lucius said. He wasn't wrong. Aries had a habit of gambling a lot, and then asking for some money from his fellow legionaries to continue his activity. Unfortunately, Aries opened the window anyway and peeked in.

"Ave! Can I get a few denari off of you? I can pay you ba-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Aries. That's what you said the last 4 times and Rictus and I haven't gotten our denari back yet." Servius said instantly. The soldier gave a nervous laugh as he looked back at the other men at the table he was sitting at.

"Yeaaaaah weeelllllll. It's one of those things, you know? It's hard to keep track of your denari when you visit the sutlers. They have so many things to choose from." He said nervously.

"You're going to end up owing us more than you already do if you keep it up." Lucius said blankly.

"But I can win this! I know it! Deldort is with me on this one! I can get all the winnings in one fell swoop!"

"Flaredammit! Stop mooching off of us. Ask one of the tenants instead! Where are they anyway?" Cervus said.

"They're out cleaning the scutii. Mooch off of Marius! He's got plenty of money!" Lucius cried out.

"I'm hurt, Lucius." Marius said with a sense of joking in his voice. Though he did reach into his pouch and grabbed his viaticum and handed them to Aries. "Pray to Deldort you win. Or I'll have to ask for Palapon for assistance in making you pay in other ways." He added with the same joking voice.

"You're giving him your viaticum?! Are you mad?!" Cried out Rictus.

"I have a wealthy father. Remember?" Marius said, causing the legionary to mutter. Marius just chuckled. He figured why not? He had plenty of his wages left over after all. Only spending it sparsely when dealing with the sutlers. In his rest though, he did not keep track of the time, and was promptly reminded when the instructor came in and barked orders.

"TIME TO MARCH! Grab you equipment ant meet by the front gate!"

5:30 P.M. White House

Politics. Taxes. Vegetables. What do these three things have in common?

They are hated, yet vital to life. Caldwell knows that all too well, being a female democratic nominee for the presidency of the United States was essentially what many would call out of her reach. Especially given her party's recent reputation and scandals. It's funny, given how most of the people Caldwell knew back then were genuine and simply had different views on how to achieve it compared to their Republican counterparts. Then came the whole surge in political differences prior to her re-election. So why bother running for the presidency when your party has been ending up in incessant intrigue? Well most would drop their platform and stick to where they are in politics.

Not Caldwell. She avoided the issues of politics that seemed to be dividing Americans and instead issued her promises of being president and what she would do. She distanced herself from her so-called 'party members' as she went true to her form. A Herculean task on its own. Her platform was run on bipartisan cooperation with other nations and staying out of pointless foreign wars that would only cost too much and yield too little. It was one of those things that leaders have often done, never taking into account what they were supposed to tell Mama Sawyers when she heard her son wasn't coming home. These were tough goals and easily debatable, but she stood her ground on these goals. Shockingly, even to herself, she won. And it could easily be attributed to the fact that former president David Bowers, a Republican, spoke of her in a positive light despite the party rivalry. And with himself being such a popular candidate in both of his terms, it was a mob mentality sort of ideal.

So when she got the nomination and found herself in the Oval Office, she needed time to take it all in. Unfortunately, despite taking a slow and steady approach to her political plans and working through the political red tape and work on the reforms and changes that she was so desperate to put into place, the fact that she's made powerful enemies was all too apparent. Those who were more in it for profit or some lowly cause. You know, generic things. Being the president of the United States is without a doubt a very powerful title. But you soon realize how little that power can be. You can't just get up and saw 'I'm going to McDonald's' without the Secret Service knowing and planning the trip. You had to get chummy with people who you would never invite into your home. And everything you did would piss someone somwhere off. Be they a foreign leader, a corporate CEO, a military superior. Then there was her own party, who would later in her term urge her to take a more liberal or 'globalist' point of view. Open the borders, allow asylum, apologize to nations, that kind of stuff. She could hardly believe her ears. While she indeed had a different view of her Republican rivals, what her fellow members were proposing? It was… it was borderline madness. But perhaps the most frustrating individuals of all were the American people themselves. They expect the President, no matter what their political allegiance was to abide by the rules and customs, yet they expect you to be like a king and make it rain and lift the sun with but a word. Only to get mad when you can't because they don't understand the limitations and rules. And that can work both ways when they affect her just as much as anyone else.

But her stress and frustration was marginalized when she realized she had assets that virtually no other nation did, such as Third Echelon and the Ghosts, as well as dependable fellow politicians. Her resolve had re-solidified when she realized that the president of the United States had a LOT of power after all. It was all hush-hush and behind the scenes. It was almost enticing to use it. Like waking up rich and realizing you could touch nearly anyone you wanted.

And she would, during the Red Mercury and against the resurgent Omurbai along with a Russian terrorists attempting to create a new country in the Caucasus region. But this was all a snap in time compared to what she was in for. 2008 was her first year as president, and the very year Russia suddenly exploded into war with itself. The Ultranationalist party of the nation had used connections with the military to begin a war to bring Russia back to the days of the Soviet Union. Not in communist ideology, but in national pride. They deemed the new Federation weak, siding with Western influences and weakening the nation. If that wasn't enough, Khaled Al-Asad, a militant commander took control of regions in the Middle East along with other groups following suit. And Iran was subject to a coup of its own, only unlike Russia, that ended within a short time. And if that still wasn't enough, the Supreme Resistance of Nationalism, or more popularly known as SRN, a nationalist terror group in Eastern Africa was causing a lot of trouble. Not even a year in and she was into a global crisis. And if that still wasn't enough, Caruth, as well as a city in the Middle East that Assad was surrounded in were both destroyed by a bomb known as Trinity, a fuel air explosive developed by Russia and more powerful than their FOAB, and that was already the most destructive bomb short of a nuke.

She had many sleepless nights, her leadership being called into question and decisions having major consequences. Sometimes she even had no idea what to do. She had everything in her power, the Ghosts, Third Echelon, everything put out. Hearing that nukes had been fired by that madman Zakhaev and a small flight of Russian rebel planes were on the way with a trinity warhead. Fear. That's what was goin on that day. Fear was all she felt and she did everything she could to not let it show. What could she do? Nothing. Nothing but hope.

Then the end came. But not in a thermobaric or nuclear blast. But in the Ultranationalists failing. Zakhaev dead and his cronies imprisoned, the nukes stopped, the Russian ace with Trinity shot down, and everything slowly settling down. It was at that moment that Caldwell realized something truly important. The politicians could talk all they wanted, but the moment the guns go off, it was soldiers that got the job done, period. A politician had no business in war whatsoever unless said politician had some kind of experience, such as John McCain. Borders, laws, position and projecting power was the way to go. With this mindset, she had taken an aggressive approach to her goals and using her powers to ensure that America would stay strong. Getting the military what it needs and distancing whatever sorts of political influence there was to the best of her abilities. Who would've thought this would lead to the death of Osama bin Laden?

Unfortunately shortly after, North Korea goes through a coup. And after the Australian Navy found weapons bound to front companies, a coalition was organized to invade the nation. The war was going well until without warning, China attempted to annex the entire region halfway into the war. And they did this by openly attacking coalition forces. Their entire motivations were unknown… they still are. It was through Russia's firm message to stop that was all avoided. This was no empty threat of course, the Russian Federation had moved divisions in the event there may be a need to deploy to Korea. And this is not to mention the Artemis PMC invasion and Third Echelon Conspiracy, the Spring Tigers, the Mexican Wars, the Blacklist. Caldwell's had quite the career of guiding the nation through the many wars and crises ever since her election, earning the nickname 'Mother Liberty' for her passion of ensuring America stayed safe and healthy. And now here she was in the Oval Office currently looking over the otherwise essential presidential duties with the war in the Gate underway. And she hoped it would be over with before her term ended. Currently going over some letters from political figures across America, be it for assistance or general greetings.

She just got done looking over the logistical figures of her own country's contributions. At long last her first waves were finished. The second waves were at the moment finalizing their preparations for when more space was secured. Said space being bought by taking more forts and land. Many people mistakenly thing it's easy moving so much hardware around. Normally it is… but it's not simple. It's not as simple as loading a bunch of tanks, APCs and men on a ship or plane and going from A to B. If it was then Normandy would've been a piece of cake. You need to figure out which soldiers you want to send out, how many of these kind of soldiers you'll send. Equipment and supplies. How they get there and estimated time. One of the disadvantages of being in another world accessible only through a gate is that your only chance of getting replenishment and resupply is a one way street.

How is that so bad? Well. Imagine it yourself. Sending your equipment across the sea to an island nation known for being xenophobic and then getting them through a Gate. It's a major logistical challenge. And unlike in our world where equipment can be replaced to varying degrees. If something is lost, it's going to take another trip to replace it. Which is one reason the advance is slow and methodical rather than a blitzkrieg upon Saderan lands… not to mention the fuel and ammunition that would be consumed in such a maneuver. And no one was rather up to the idea of a dragon getting a lucky strike on a HEMTT or Toyota Type 73. Play sparingly, build up, then push out.

Her personal computer, latest from Cisco, chimed. It was Treskayev asking for a video chat. The Moscow-Washington Hotline. Established between the US and USSR back in 1963 between the Pentagon and the Kremlin after the Cuban Missile Crisis. Many people know it as the 'red telephone.' In reality, there was no telephone. It was Teletype equipment. Later shifted to fax in 1986. In 2008 it became a secure computer link. And now here, it had been expanded to both rooms of the respective presidents and could include video. Ah the wonders of technology.

A couple of clicks, and there was the mentioned man on the laptop screen. "Hello Alexander."

"Privet, Patricia. How does it feel to be back in the States after spending a while with us in Brussels?"

"Well it's raining. Think I preferred the European sun." She said with a teasing amusement pointing out the window.

"Hah. It is cold here. That cold front is still hanging around. They say it won't start warming up until a week later."

"A Russian complaining about the cold?" She asked with a joking eyebrow raised.

"We aren't all born in General Winter's house like popular media portrays, my friend." He laughed.

"Another thing the media often gets wrong for the sake of excitement. Anyway, what did you need today?" Patricia asked.

"I just got the news of the taking of the latest fort. Borislav tells me the western front is secure against potential attacks on the main fort. It looks like this strategy is going to take off well after all."

"Indeed. If it wasn't for the giant mountain range we'd have a quicker end to the war, I'm sure."

"Da… about that. I've been speaking to some of our fellow heads of state and they're looking to post-war discussions already."

"So soon?" Patricia asked. "This war may take longer than we hope given magic and the logistics challenge. What's got them into a tizzy?" It's a challenge to send a comfortable amount of soldiers through a Gate in a xenophobic nation whose populace has been quiet so far.

"As we all know, this is uncharted territory, and where there's uncharted territory…" He stopped waiting to see if Patricia would catch on, and she did. A big sigh of frustration erupted as she held her head in her heads. They haven't even finished allocating sufficient numbers into this Falmart land, and they're already going for concessions and claims. Resources. THAT'S what they were after. Noble yet shameful at the same time. "It's inevitable, unfortunately. It's a new world with untapped potential… it's just a matter of how it all ends. But with this in mind, there's a particular reason I am talking to you now. It… it has to do with China looking to join us."

"You did seem tense with him whenever he spoke." She said recalled. Ever since the end of the Third Korean War, China had been going through a period of civil unrest. One that hadn't been seen since the time after Mao's Death. People taking to the streets constantly to protest against the CCP's continued administration. This, along with Taiwan's independence had led to Tibet, Xinjiang, and Inner Mongolia leading protests. Martial law seemed to be an everlasting reality. And they have a leader. A man by the name of Jin Jie. Progressive. Pushing the government for transparency, fairness, freedom of speech as the protests grew and grew. China's failing attempts to gain recognition from the failed 4 hour conflict near Taiwan to the oil deal after Ramon Solano's apprehension in Venezuela in exchange for recognizing the nation's legitimacy would fuel these sentiments and force the Communist Party to accept more changes.

But now Caldwell realized this could be yet another issue that may form later down the road. Because if you're an oppressive regime in command of a sorely overpopulated nation and you start getting into hot water, here's a bit of advice that has been tried and tested throughout the centuries. Either start a war to distract everyone from their misery, or blame someone else. So far the blame tactic would be used. They would blame the Japanese for the past war, the Americans for being greedy, or the other Asian nations for being disrespectful or whatever hubbub they could think of. Well what were they going to do about all this?

And of course, the Chinese people had a very high view of themselves. At least the CCP did. They look at themselves in a similar light to the emperors of the past. Basically an almighty thought process. You just need to see their history in recent years, and even after Mao to really see that. The Chinese had a different way of thinking. "It's only a matter of time until they try something again. I know how they work nowadays. They'll wait till the right moment or deny involvement if it goes wrong. It happened in Korea, it happened in Venezuela. And it will happen again here if we let them have too big a presence!"

"That depends on Japan. They're ultimately in control of how many forces we send through that Gate. They're sure to keep any more of the Chinese from getting through."

"We should discuss this before anything else happens. The CCP won't just listen to their people no matter what happens. Sooner or later they'll stop listening to the demands of their people and we'll have a civil war on our hands. The CCP will look for a reason to get their people to stop and-"

"You think this gate will have a role in it." Caldwell responded matter-of-factly.

"Yes… I'm not saying we do something drastic Caldwell I'm just… we should just be cautious and keep an eye on the dragon while it still sleeps."

"I've read my history and know what you're saying. We already have ships over there given for monitoring reinforcement traffic. I imagine this was all you wanted to talk to me about?"

"For now, Caldwell. I didn't want to speak of this until later on when we could speak in private. There's no telling what their intelligence has in the way of connections… I imagine you're prepared for the future meeting?"

"About the issue of the EU's current policy? That'll be fun."

Fort Gate

Itami didn't leave his office ever since he got back from the doctor's.

He was just trying to escape reality for the moment. Take what time he could while he was in his office. The manga wasn't doing much for him this time. So, he just relegated himself to staring at the ceiling. There were times when manga didn't help, and he'd just stare off into space until something happened to take his mind off of things… that and some TV. So with that in mind, he grabbed the remote and turned on the small flat screen he moved in front of his bed. Everyone had a flat screen these days, and he took the liberty of moving it to the foot of his bed onto a small stand.

"- marking the 5th anniversary of Taiwan's official declaration of independence after the referendum of 2011. The event is to be commemorated by a large march of citizens and military personnel down Liberty Square. China has stated the illegitimacy of the declaration. But with a UN acknowledgement of this in its infancy and memories of the Third Korean War and Venezuela still fresh, along with the past 4 hour war against General Tun in 2004 and the backing of North Korea in the Second Korean War, relations between the CCP and other nations has been diplomatically quiet as most countries 'just stopped listening to China's hot air,' as stated by Russian president Treska-" And he turned it off right there and then.

"Stupid fucking commun-" With his attempt to get his mind off of the issue of today foiled by modern politics, Itami decided desperate times called for desperate measures. Do something he doesn't usually do. PRACTICE.

Until Mitchell began forcing him to undertake the physical training and firing practice, he would take whatever chance he could to get out of it to feed his hobby. Well now that there was a war on and he was on the OTHER side of the gate, he HAD to do it now. So yeah he wasn't exactly enthusiastic, but right now he was willing to do anything to get his mind off of recent events and by extension, modern politics. Well, he may as well go to the firing range. Shooting is better than the pain of PT. He could feel his joints ache as he thought about it. To be honest, he didn't feel any stronger than he did before. Every look in the mirror was the same; Still skinny. Normally he wouldn't care. But after that encounter back at the fort, he had something of an epiphany if you will. Try to stay close to the team and don't get up close. It's easier to do than try to buff up at this point. He did however feel like getting a scope for his rifle to assist in this issue. No way in hell he was going to go through the stress or panic of facing one of those guys up close, as unlikely as it was now.

Being that the firing area was on the other side of this fort, he took one of the bikes sitting outside to get there. Some of the structures he passed by still having construction teams here and there. When that air raid hit, the fort was still underway. The walls were complete along with essential structures. Given the size of the place, it's a wonder that even with the teams working one immediately after the other were able to get it done. It was more or less extended now. Sometimes they'd pull another dead dragon from between buildings or pull chunks of concrete and other building materials from collapsed rooms. And that's not counting the roads that were being repaved. The bigger dragons were beefed up in more ways than one. He spotted one of the corners of the roof of a structure with a hole melted into it. Literally melted when one of the fire breathers came down… the same went for roads and anyone caught in the blast. The asphalt was melted and all that was left of any individuals caught were charred remains or in the case of the ice breathers, flash-frozen.

It was a sight people tried not to remember. Especially him as he blocked it out and looked straight ahead. 'Just focus on shooting targets.' He finally reached the range. It was quiet there today. Only a few shots going off. He took a look at the Howa he was using, and scrunched his face at the iron sights recalling his recent thoughts about a scope. He never had a problem with the damn thing before, but now that he was in a war and engaging the enemy with crossbows from anywhere and everywhere, he wanted something to give him an edge. And able to give him a decent amount of awareness. Maybe one of those ACOGs. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Whatever kind of sight he can get, really. That'll help get his mind off of things. So into the structure bordering the range he went. Where most of the quartermasters and other gear for grabs are located. Given the size and diversity of the force, it made sense for at least one place to have a large pool of equipment at the ready. The armory section was mostly storage. Most of the counters were closed save for one though, likely referencing the slow day there. Strange as he expected it to be hustle and bustle regardless.

"Hello?" He asked peeking into the one open counter. He could see a myriad of weapons and accessories about on racks, shelves, and tables. Gun and ammo boxes on the ground in varying states of orderliness. "Hello?" No response. Itami figured he'd have to come back until he heard what sounded like arguing in other languages getting closer. Female voices. One getting closer.

"Charlotte, arrête de te moquer de ses seins, grand dieu!" Sounded French. A woman came through. Looked about Kuribayashi's height and dressed in the jigsaw camo pattern of Belgium. Short, slightly curly, pretty blonde hair held back with a green hair band. She also bore green eyes and… fairly busty. Though Itami was more attentive to how frustrated she sounded. "Und du, Helga! Hör auf, so hartnäckig zu sein, du Wurstgehirn!" THAT sounded German. Then she put a hand to her head and began muttering. "…overdreven agressieve poptaartjes." … Dutch? He guessed. She then noticed the Japanese man on the other side of the hole in the wall and immediately. "Oh my, I'm sorry! Just had to resolve something with my fellow quartermasters!" She said in a cheerful demeanor as she approached. Her English was pretty good.

"Uhhhh don't worry about it. I just want a scope… an ACOG if I can." He said brushing off the confusion.

"Sure you wouldn't prefer a FN SCAR-L STD? Or maybe an H-CQC to replace that thing?" She joked referring to his rifle, leading him to get confused again. "Kidding! I'll get it for you!" And she waltz/skipped over to one of the myriad of shelves where accessories were located. While waiting, two other women, likely the ones that were arguing and being yelled at came in. German and French flags and camo patterns. Both taller. The German had shorter blonde hair with blue eyes and was giving the Frenchwoman an obvious glare. The Frenchwoman has dark brown hair with matching eyes. Said eyes refusing to make contact with the German.

Of course Itami happened to notice at this time one had opposing assets to look at. German with the rear and Frenchwoman with the breasts… he was betting THAT'S part of their argument. When women argue they'll go for any wound they can find. And if there is none they'll make one. They were arguing in their tongues again. "EY! Knock it off you two! We have someone here." The Belgian scolded. The two looked and saw the truth. Just like that the argument they had just vanished and they acted orderly. In fact they seemed to check themselves. Straightening their clothes, fixing their hair. The German made her way to him first.

"Hallo, mein fruend. I see you've decided to take a moment to stop by and visit!" She said, calm and a bit alluring while still being a bit assertive as she greeted him. Itami was instantly caught off guard and began stuttering. The Frenchwoman immediately came forth and shoved the German out of the way.

"Now Helga. Back off! Can't you see you're scaring him? What men prefer are ladies who are calm and flirty at the same time. Qui qui monsieur?" The Frenchwoman asked with batting eyes and a teasing smile.

"Oh I uh I uhuh uh uh well yeah that makes sense I um ah-"

"Move over, kleines Mädchen!" The Frenchwoman was shoved out of the way rather comically. "You need to be gentle of course, but if you aren't firm, you'll only go so far before he ends up making you into a broken mess."

And she was likewise shoved. "Little girl?! May I remind you that I am the definition of plantureuse!" The Frenchwoman cried out, and shit you not, unbuttoned the top parts of her shirt to better expose a fancy lacey bra covering some amply sized bossoms.

"Oh jaaaaaaaaa! Those are some NICE OBSERVATORIES for men to ogle at!"

"It's easier to make eye contact with someone! Your ASSet is behind and happens to be bigger than the Rappbode Dam!" And with that the fire between the two erupted into another argument. Itami could tell right there and then they did this a lot. Friendly rivalry? National rivalry? He couldn't tell immediately. But he could tell one thing off the bat. The Belgian was apparently the stabilizing force behind these two… and with that in mind, why isn't there more people to help her with that?

"MOVE ASIDE!" The question was sort of answered by the Belgian forcefully separating the two by pushing them aside to get back with Itami. "Here's your scope, without getting hindered by these two. Just fill out this little form right here so we can keep track of who has what."

The Frenchwoman tch'd in annoyance. "You are always getting in the way, Bella."

"Someone has to when you two get crazy and try to tear each other's throats out like it's Verdun all over again!" She cried out, before she turned back to Itami and said. "Have a good day!" The bit of cheerfulness she had when speaking to him turned to viciousness as she got back to her pals. Itami therefore decided to get the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible after signing the form and ran to the outside of the structure.

"No wonder the place is empty." He muttered. Then looked to the scope and the gun. "Thank Buddha for the rail." He said referring to the railing on the receiver. Though if there's ONE THING Itami remembered. ONE CRUCIAL THING he could recall on being a soldier, it's disassembling the Type 89, though he couldn't do it blindfolded or in 5 or 3 minutes. The SDF used to use the older Type 64 rifle. That was a battle rifle, the 89 is an assault rifle. The 89 is also lighter and uses the 5.56 as opposed to the heavier 7.62. Most of the 64s are finding their way into the Japanese Coast Guard but still sees use in the SDF. Some soldiers didn't have scopes like the ACOG as it was expected the enemy would be more reliant with a closer form of combat with their obsolete tech, though that assessment, while justified was soon found not very viable with magic and archery being potent. Not to mention the crossbows now being used. And he wasn't looking to take a chance with taking a bolt to the chest, be it a simple standard one or an enchanted stick of death that explodes into shards of ice that can shred Kevlar.

Well getting the scope on, while a bit tedious, was successful. And now he had to put it back together and hope he wasn't missing a piece. A real unpleasant memory from hearing his instructors berate him over and over because he missed a pin or screw. It was always such a headache until he memorized every little inch and curve of the gun until he was more familiar with it than he was with his anime models. Through some miracle for them, they succeeded. Too bad he never took his other lessons seriously.

When he finally managed to get his gun back together, he went to one of the empty spots in the firing range. There was nothing special about this range. Whereas most of the fort had some tech and developed locations, the range was a collection of dirt mounds with targets of varying conditions and sizes strewn about with yard indicators in between. The metal standup targets with legionary images. Some that move side to side. So began the process of improving his accuracy. Well it would until he realized the scope needed adjusting. He muttered to himself, figuring he should've asked that girl to set it up for him while he was there. "Okay was it this to the up and that changing the range… or was… the lines with numbers are yards… right?" Boy was he thankful that no one else was here.

"PYLE!"

The unexpected shout from behind resulted in Itami screaming out loud and jumping into the air, only to fall down flat on his front like Chinese soldiers in a game of hot potato with a grenade on YouTube. He spat the dirt that ended up in his mouth and looked back to see the Gunny himself containing a laugh from his prank. "Are you shooting your rifle? Or shooting whatever you claim to be a 'gun' in your pants?" Answered by Itami muttering in his native tongue as he got back up and looked back at his gun. "Ah, havin trouble figuring out how to use your gun already? And you were doing so well."

"What do you want kusojijii?" Itami asked, clearly irritated. He was just met with a laugh.

"Let me see that weapon." Itami looked at the old man with a confused look. But he did so anyway. Gunny took the weapon nd looked thought the scope, then scoffed. "Bah." He immediately started twisting and tweaking the knobs on the scope and looked again. Then tweaked, then again. "Try it now." Itami took the rifle back and looked through the scope, and found it was perfect. .

"Thanks."

"Get to taking care of things yourself. You won't last long unless you learn how to fight and fight hard." Itami didn't feel like responding to that, having heard stuff like that in training one too many times and getting back to firing. Taking it through single shots. He took the next few 10 minutes there as he was in no hurry to get back to his duties. He started thinking about when times were simple for him. Back when the SDF wasn't in a war and stayed in Japan. When his luck was a lot better in 'getting out of work.' Oh those were the days. Now here he was stuck in his office room when not in the field and having nightmares of legionaries stalking through the fort, rising from the dead as blood soaked specters vowing revenge.

These thoughts were crawling in and out of his head all of a sudden. He didn't realize it was hampering his shooting until he looked at one of the closer targets, the shots going outside the area he wanted to hit. He focused, or at least thought he was, and fired again. Running out of ammo and reloading. Then back to it. He was targeting the moving targets now. He was still missing the center-mass. He switched to the burst function, about one shot was making it into the target. The other two either went way off or onto the non-important areas. Not that he cared at the moment, as contradictory as it seemed. He was more interested in just banishing some thoughts from his mind and some practice fire seemed like the best method. Back to thinking of the old days. Back when China was freshly humiliated in the Third Korean War. Oh he remembered that day well and how much he loved it. It was a nice memory for rainy days. And he had plenty of those days like now.

One of the targets popped up, right up close to his spot as if to simulate a surprise attack. Itami froze looking at the blank stare the target presented, reminding him of the legionary back at the fort that nearly killed him. He felt the uncomfortable feeling of being crushed again, hesitating in his shot as the rifle was literally pointed right at the target near point blank range. The shortness of breath from being crushed, the tension of being alone, the panic of being beaten. Itami backed away from the spot and into one of the chairs strewn about the place. Not even when trying to practice he couldn't escape his stress. And that memory of his wasn't helping right now.

"War's rough, huh son?" There was Gunny speaking again. Over cleaning an M16.

Itami just shook his head. "Pfff. Guess you'd know, huh old man?" The aged marine looked upon the older modeled weapon. It was the A1 variant. With a grenade launcher under it. Just a few more spots he had to scrub and wipe.

"Son, war isn't for the faint of heart. But I think you found that out, right?" Gunny's comment was on the money right there.

"And here I joined the army just to have some kind of support for my hobby." Itami admitted.

"Hard to believe if you ask me. How long were you in the army? At least 10 years. 15? Either way. Something doesn't add up. How have you not been kicked out yet? You bribe or suck someone off?"

Itami let out a small laugh. "It's something I'm not too proud of. Let's just say I had some friends in high places."

"Who the hell'd wanna keep you in the army? I mean let's face it, son. You're not exactly soldier material. Hell you'd do better service for your country sittin in some basement comin up with that… creepy art of yours or whatever. The fuck is it? Animals? Anima? Animee? Watchyacallit Japanese cartoons and comic books."

"Anime and manga. It's too different things." Itami said, pointing out the facts.

"I don't see the difference. Same thing different origins. Like rifles or tanks." Gunny's statement caused Itami to mutter a bit.

"Well on the job and stuff… you're gonna get no argument from me. Like I said, it's not something I'm proud of. It's… personal. Something that really turned my entire goddamn world upside down. You could say it has to do with why I'm the way I am." The two were silent after that for the next few minutes until the Gunny spoke again.

"How are you sleeping?"

"… sorry, what?"

"How are you sleeping?"

"… little personal don't you think?"

"Maybe, but then again, I'm just here to assist in the cross-training for familiarity with weapons. And a bit of a morale figure if you will. And I know a troubled soldier when I see one." Being in Vietnam as part of the Marine Wing Support Group 17, he was sure to see some fights and blood. It wasn't Gunny's fault, but given how American performance was based on conventional tactics and politician involvement, and a bunch of other factors, he'd surely been in the same situations.

"What about you? Or is the old Gunny too old for nightmares nowadays?" Gunny gave a short chuckle as he was finishing the cleaning of the rifle he held.

"Take my advice son. Don't wonder if you'll get more nightmares. Wonder when. Now I myself am long gone from all that business but I still remember it all like it was yesterday. No one comes back from combat unaffected. There's a little unofficial chart we like, or I like, to think of in my mind. It's of how much you're affected. It ranges from simple exposure to full on coming home with meat and tubes." Itami figured he'd heard enough from the old man, especially after Gunny dropped his rag by accident and then spilled the cleaning solution across the table. "Dammit Gunny!" He cried cursing himself. Itami decided that he may as well go back and sleep or something. Seemed like no matter what he did he couldn't get his mind off of the incident. You could easily say he's just wandering around like a lost puppy. Looking for something to do. "Need a ride?" He heard Gunny ask. "I don't got much to do right now."

A smile touches his lips suddenly. Remembering how Kuribayashi did that to Mitchell a lot. He wondered if she was doing that right now.

Residential district. Entertainment structure.

Kuribayashi was currently in the midst of conditioning. Of the physical kind.

It's what one would expect. Sports bra and shorts and all that. The only others with her was Wataru and some other soldiers from among the nations. She herself was currently lifting single-hand weights. He was going full on weights.

"Gotta say since it's on my mind." He says. "I knew you were buff from your training and all, but wow."

"Yeah. I get that a lot." She said not really caring. Now she was no Gladys Portugues, but her physique screamed 'fit and strong.' It's a miracle it didn't take away from her otherwise petite and cute appearance. It should come at no surprise though. If you're a woman and you want to be a soldier, you better be ready for some real hell. Kuribayashi was fortunate that her father would take her to their dojo during her childhood. So when she volunteered, she had an edge. But it was no easier on her, especially with her size and assets. But after trying again and again, she eventually got in. "I'm pretty lucky you could say. My dad would take me down to our dojo every now and then. He always told me it was to prepare myself for when I started getting involved with boys and may need to keep myself safe."

"Well that clearly payed off." He commented.

"Well look at you. You're the real big guy, Mister Panzerfaust. You ever have to deal with hordes of fangirls following you? Or maybe letters on your door or in your mailbox? I bet there are plenty of other teachers looking to get with you at that elementary school you work at." Shino laughed. During the down time the team had back after they crossed, they would sit down and share information about each other. Wataru let loose he was a gym teacher at an elementary school. Along with Tozu being an assistant manager at a bank and Sasagawa as a photographer for the MU magazine, and of course everyone knew that Kuwahara was in the army all his life. Kurata does part time work at a small convenience store as a shelf stocker. Nishina did volunteer work in the One Asia Foundation aside from being in the military. Mari is a pediatrician. Tomita had knowledge in astronomy, as of the moment he was still awaiting a potential admission to the National Astronomical Observatory of Japan. Furuta was a chef before joining the SDF, his passion led to a quarrel with the second generation owner of the restaurant, so he was looking to open his own. Azuma was no one special as he himself said, just another soldier like Kuwahara.

And Shino herself? She does work at a small restaurant as a waiter. The kind where they go around in roller skates. The only one who had a chuckle was Mari and Kuwahara. The others would've too if it wasn't for Shino's reputation.

"Well most of them are married or are already dating. Most of the girls who come after me are those from the nearby high school. But it's some of the teachers there… hooooooooooooo boy." He had that 'it's funny now that I look back on it' grin. "Goes by the name of Yukari Tanizaki." He said not stopping his session.

"Is she hot?" Shino asked with a tease.

"She's easy on the eyes, not so much on the ears… especially when I first met her. I was walking back when she was zooming by in that battering ram she calls a car. Then screeches to a halt and backs up Tokyo Drift-like and goes right up to me like she was possessed."

"Are you joking me?" She asks, stopping her work out.

"Nope. She instantly asks me if I was single. To which I reply yes, I had no idea what to do. Then she's all GO OUT WITH MEEEEEEEEEE! I had to get out of there right when that happened. Thank Buddha when I split, one of the other teachers from that same school showed up and literally manhandled her to stop her. Had to be a PE teacher too. Needless to say being deployed isn't all that bad. She's been after me for a while."

Shino pfffted as she tried to suppress her laughs. "And that was one of your potential disasters?"

"The worst. Heheh… I bet you $5,000 yen I'll run into her again… so what about you? Any potential 'matches' yourself?" He asked changing the subject. "You know, other than Mitchell-dono?" He added as a joke.

She scoffed. "No not really. I haven't been having much luck in that department."

"Can't say I'm surprised, knowing your reputation." He responded.

Kuribayashi let out a nervous laugh. "Heheeeeeeeeh… you too huh?"

"We all know, Kuribayashi-san. Hell everyone in the SDF probably knows. You put down a top instructor in your training? And everyone realizes the person talked about was you." It was something Kuribayashi herself learned. That word of her skill, and temperament, had spread after her training was completed. "How about before all that?"

"Heh… well… not really. I mean I had some guys approach, ask me out… then it's off to the dojo. Beat me and you can date me is how I work it out." Wataru stopped and looked at her like she was insane.

"… you serious?"

"Yep."

"… no wonder you're single."

"Hey, I have standards to you know." She retorted.

"HIGH standards. Guess that also explains why every man avoids you so much. They're probably afraid you'll try to ask them out and get pulled into the ring. Everyone knows it you know." It was at that moment that another guy came into the room. Russian and well-built going right for the treadmills. In an instant Kuribayashi was looking at him the way one looks at a shooting star. "So. Is there anyone that has your attention at least?"

"Well…" She began looking away. "There's Ivan who just walked in the door over there." She said pointing. "There's maybe a few others. But I won't be telling."

"I'm not in that list am I?" He asked. Causing her to get a bit red. "I hope not. I'd rather not risk getting my legs broken."

"… you're like 5 times bigger than most guys!" She cried.

"And you're like an angry wolverine at times. Not even bears mess with them. And no guy wants that. Did you just forget what we were talking about?"

"That- I but- URGH! You know what? I don't need some damn dojo match to get a man! I can tell by looking. I'll go ask that guy right there! I'll show you!" Just like that she put down the weights and went over. Wiping off whatever sweat there may be and going over to the Russian. Wataru could only go back to lifting. He didn't bother to listen in. Just went on with his workout.

A few minutes later she came back looking pretty chipper. "So what did he say?"

"Well I introduced myself, and he said he heard of me and all that. I asked if he was interested in hanging out and he said he needed a moment to think about it. But I think I got this one. He gave me the LOOK."

"The look?"

"Yeah. You know, that look when you see something awesome?"

"Like when you looked at him." Wataru answered.

"Yeah." He was looking over at the Russian, who was talking to the other guys. They were whispering, so he looked at their facial expressions. And after a moment, his face went full-blown panic mode and he immediately got off the treadmill and got out of the room. The others followed suit. Shino on the other hand looked happy. "For once, I can say that with my looks It's going to be a swift moment and we'll see how well it works before you can say 'sayonara!'"

"He gave you the look huh? You sure it was the look you're thinking of?" He asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"He's gone."

"… ugh, you're just trying to prove me wro-" She turned around as she spoke, and found the Russian gone. And the others too. Now she was alone with Wataru. "Wh- where did… did he really...?"

"I told you." Kuribayashi stood defeated. "So you gonna try your luck with other guys?" Kuribayashi just made a small annoyed scoff and went back to her weights with her back to him. He had to laugh a bit, but didn't push it. Kuribayashi was looking back at the ground. Grumbling in her own mind 'No one wants to date Oni Girl.' The words of her sister replayed in her head. She slowed as they repeated. "I'm not an oni.' She whispered to herself quietly. "… right?"

Now she was taking a trip down memory lane again. Back when she first started dating, her father was like any other man for the most part. He was strict, but was not against his daughter dating. At first, it was ok. There were some guys who didn't really make the cut, those whose legs she had to bend every now and then. But then came the boys who made it to the dojo only to fail. She was still young at 23, but father Kuri was desperate to see her have someone in life. Anyone. He became the exact opposite of the stereotypical over-protective father. He went so far as to BEG BOYS to date her. Easier said than done, because word about her spread through the town. 'Oni garu' was soon known around the area. And when she finally became a soldier, the legend spread there too.

Shino didn't even notice she stopped lifting her weights in the midst of her thoughts. The other part of her screamed at her to keep going, she was a soldier and had to keep herself up to date. But she didn't heed the demands. She put them back on the rack. "I'm going." She bluntly said. Wataru gave an average response of 'ok.' She took a quick shower, even though there was little sweat, and left back for her barracks. On her way there, she saw none other than Itami-boke himself riding in an old Willy Jeep with GUNNY himself! She could feel her blood boil seeing that moron with a man whose being was rivaled only by men like Mitchell-dono himself. How did that even happen?! Then she heard those same damned words that her sister also said. 'Give him a chance.' She would return to her bunk and sit down. Thinking of this as the time passed.

So many boys scared off. So many days father was upset. So many lectures by her sister.

"… should I?"

…

Mitchell was back within his own quarters now.

The ride back with the Russians was uneventful to say the least. Now that he was back, he had a moment to reflect and think while waiting for the next assignment. Likely another fort to take. He was on Itami's case in this instance. At the fort, he performed basically well. But there was the incident with the legionary in the under-halls as he heard. Itami seemed pretty rattled by it, and then there was the conflicting encounter with a Sgt. McCullin. That couldn't have been good. After he got done overlooking a few recon reports that Keating forwarded to him, he would go to check in on the guy. Nothing too special from the reports. Same old same old.

He departed from his quarters after that and made his way to Itami's office. And saw Gunny drive by on the way. A wave from both men to each other, and the Ghost continued on to Itami's office.

He found him. Sitting at the desk looking at manga. "… Mitchell-dono." He said simply.

"How you doin, son?"

"Pretty good. All things considered. Just got back from the firing range a while back… not much really happening." There was that look in his eyes. Itami was back in the state of troubles with flashbacks.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"… some. I went to the doc's earlier. I got some pills to help me out when I hit the hay again. Got one of those ACOGs. Not much else to talk about really." The SDF soldier replied.

"How about that legionary you got into a fight with? Down in the underpaths of the fort?" Itami was silent then. "Or how about McCullin? Heard he lashed out pretty badly at you."

"I… I uh… I don't wanna talk about it." He answered.

"It's traumatizing isn't it? Up close instead of out at a distance?" Mitchell said. Itami stared. Then hung his head and put a hand to the top.

"This is unreal. I still keep expecting to see them use the same old tactics any old army would even though every fight we had has shown otherwise, then it happens and I end up like that. The guy was quiet as a damn mouse and he kept a blank face like a statue. Now I see that face at the most inopportune moments. Like when I was at the firing range and a target popped up close to me." He admitted.

"That's what I was talking about. Somehow, some way, PTSD will hit you."

"It's just, I don't know how you can bear it. I'm getting better at dealing with it but it still haunts me, you know? It's… it… I get it. I'm not a model soldier and I'll likely never be one sure. But I was expecting to fight a defensive war sometime after I joined the SDF you know? I just-"

Mitchell stopped the ranting soldier. "Hold on… didn't you join to support your hobby? That's what you told me." Itami stopped, and looked a tiny bit around nervously.

"Eh… yeah… I guess you could say I was hit with a bit of apprehension during the stock market crash and the likeliness of war with China. You know, patriotic thoughts and all?" It's hard to not remember such a moment in history. The resistance to the I-SDF from North Korea and China would lead to blockades… and end in a second Korean war and the disbanding of a suddenly rogue I-SDF. But Mitchell wouldn't get into that, seeing as it seemed like a really sore subject for Itami as evidenced back in Japan. "It's not just that. I mean… why are you bothering with me? Don't you have other matters to attend to? You know… documents to look at, gear to clean, briefings to give?"

"That will come in due time. I already took care of most of that when I got back. As for your first question… I guess you could say I see a bit of me in you."

"Pfft what? Who me? Come on. That's bullshit and you know it."

"Not like that. I mean you're like me when I first joined. I made a lot of mistakes, some that nearly got myself killed."

"That's another thing. I nearly got myself and the team killed over there. Okay, I'm a bad soldier but I know when I fuck up like that." Itami interrupted. "And I don't think I'll get a second chance. Meanwhile you're the guy who never screws up so bad. You make the little errors no one can really avoid but you don't do the big fuckups ever. I mean, you're a Ghost. You never screw up, right?"

"You'd be surprised, son." Mitchell answered somberly. He reached for the buttons of his uniform and undid them, exposing his chest. Itami's confusion turned to shock when he saw a very strange and grisly looking scar there. Mitchell gave him a moment to take it in, before continuing. "Before I was a Ghost. I was a sergeant. Was doing a cross-training exercise with the locals and Taiwanese forces, while looking for a mission missionary. She didn't make it. That was when Abu Sayyaf ambushed us. Only a couple others of my team were left. And the worst part is this scar didn't come from them. It came from the Taiwanese captain."

"Wha wha whaaaaaa… but… aren't you allies? Wh- why did he do that?" Itami was caught off guard at what he saw, and couldn't process what he was seeing.

"Itami, a friend of mine once said the only thing worse than a coward is a liar. And the only thing worse than that is one who thinks politically. That was Zhi's problem. If I had to choose between him and you, I'd pick you, because even though you don't think militarily, you also don't think like a politician. And that can prove to be even more fatal." He rebuttoned the shirt. "Itami, soldiers aren't born. They're made. Be it in boot camp or in war, a soldier is forged sometime or later. You're just a late bloomer as far as I'm concerned. You can fight and you can kill Itami, but you have a long road to go before you reach a true efficient existence. That's why I'm helping you. I believe in you. You just gotta push yourself more. Think of me as a mule to give a kick. And take comfort in this fact. It's expected of you to screw up, but not of me. At least not back then. That's another thing about war. You can have all the training, the best gear money can buy and all the intelligence your brain can handle, there's always a chance something will happen and you or someone else is gonna get hurt once you leave the wire and things don't always go according to plan. Bottom line. Shit happens" Itami was silent now. The man he saw as the perfect soldier having just admitted to being no better than any others in the end. "I'll let you rest. Assuming nothing happens tomorrow, we're going back to some training." With that, Mitchell left the room, leaving Itami to ponder what just happened.

"Gunny-sama said something similar."

Sadera. Hall of Excellence.

Rory, having gotten away from the other apostles, had one las thing to do before she could go back to travelling.

At the current moment. She was in the midst of not exactly having a good mood. The past was echoing through her, back when she was but a mortal. Back to when life was simple and she was but a girl. When her family was well to do and she could live her life in relative bliss of the dangers that were abound. How much things can change in 9 centuries, and that's not counting her fate on this particular day those many many years ago.

She had to put it aside though, today was host of a very crucial event. She was back in the temple of Emroy and remembered something very important taking place today, something religious. A cornerstone of the apostle of Emroy. She was to go the Hall of Excellence. It was a single, small, but imposing shrine built into the mountain the palace was on top of. Built in the latin style of architecture with the elements of Emroy's gothic themes here and there. In here is a place of religious significance and of martial prowess.

Here was where Excelsiors were born.

They are the foremost of Sadera's soldiers. The greatest of their warriors. Barely human, yet they are more than human. Superior in all respects through training, blessings, and magic. They are untouched by plague and can suffer whatever wounds break through their protection that would kill a lesser being and continue fighting. The mere presence of a single one invokes awe and fear. They are usually, but not always, selected from legions who have shown true loyalty and skill. And while they stand apart from the people they protect, they are never truly withdrawn from their old memories.

Today was graduation day, where those who had endured the training would be welcomed into the fold as true soldiers of Emroy's form. And with them would be the families of the graduating men. A son becoming such a fabled warrior is a dream of any father, rich and poor. She was in the same attire from her attendance in the Senate. Along with a veil over her face. Up the stairs she came, approaching the open entrance to the location. No walls covered this place from the outside elements. Only pillars stood to mark and support the built in shrine where a statue almost as big as the one in the temple stood. Inside were the many citizens who would bear witness to the ceremony sitting in seats. and close to the statue, in 5 neat rows of 10 were the men who would pass their test. Standing at attention with the masks their kind were known for in their left hand.

"Rory Mercury has arrived!" Someone cried out, much to the delight of everyone. She gave a simple curtly nod as she passed them. Making her way to the altar, in front of the statue, where a head priest of Emroy stood waiting with a Excelsior Centurion. Rory had done this for many centuries, and today was no different. It was time to welcome more men into the family of Emroy into his warrior culture.

"You are just in time, your holiness. We were just about to get started." The head priest said.

"Without me? You wound me, my friend." Rory said in mock offense.

"Well Emroy does not like to wait, especially when welcoming the new soldiers. And it's happened many many times before you know."

"Oh don't remind me." Rory said, not wanting to be reminded of how she was late at times. This was not time for jokes and catch-up of course. She turned to the crowd, and all fell silent. "My fellow Saderans. I thank you all for coming today, to witness the new lives these men will take upon themselves." She said, waiting a moment. "But. Before we continue, let us take a moment of silence… for those who undertook this perilous test, and did not survive." The attention was to the far right of the shrine, where 40 open coffins rested. Inside were men, peacefully at rest. Excelsior training was brutal and unforgiving, and sometimes the risks are… fatal. These men took the challenge, but did not make it. "These men, having lost their lives, are no lesser in the eyes of Emroy, for to merely participate, to show one can go so far in training, is proof enough of one's commitment to the Empire. Their sacrifice was not in vain. Let us take a moment of silence, as I read off their names. And let their souls find peace in His embrace."

As Rory named the fallen, a priest went to the coffins and individually cremated the bodies as names were spoken. Tears were wept of course, as the families of the fallen boys in those caskets were also present, finding peace in the fact that despite such a horrible end, Emroy saw them as worthy of respect, and of taking into his embrace as the bodies turned to ashes and their souls were taken into his embrace.

"May they serve as examples that death is no reason to bar one from enrolling, and failure, while a possibility, is never a given… and as for you! Those who have endured this hell! Those who have proven themselves, bear your masks!" The men, in one fluid harmony placed their emotionless face masks upon them. No longer could one but Emroy and Rory tell who was who. "Now, take a knee with your gladius." A kneel followed, as they held their swords before them, blade tip on the ground with the handle firmly grasped. "And now, repeat after me, as you take the oath of your final trial. 'Upon my honor, I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Molt Sol Augustus, and Father Emroy.'"

"Upon my honor, I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Molt Sol Augustus, and Father Emroy." They repeated.

"And unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire."

"And unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire."

"May those above judge me."

"May those above judge me."

"And those below take me if I fail in my duty."

"And those below take me if I fail in my duty."

"Long live the Empire, for the glory of Father Emroy."

"Long live the Empire, for the glory of Father Emroy."

It was then, the shrine bore a brilliant red glow, the very statue embodying Sadera's patron of war and blood darkened, its eyes turning blood red, shining from its shadowed face as though rage made manifest. Then, the head moved, looking down upon the men who swore their oath to their god and emperor to become the great men they strove to be, men who looked back up into their god's… no… their Father's eyes. And then the statue spoke, but no lips moved, calmly, but powerfully.

"They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give of themselves to me. Like clay they have been molded by the furnace of war in which I have forged them. They are of steely will and stony sinew. In great armor they shall be clad and with the finest of weapons they shall be armed. They will be untouched by plague or diseases and no sickness shall torment them. None but the most powerful of weapons shall harm them. They will have such tactics, strategy, and courage that no foe will best them in battle. They are the bulwark against terror. They are the Defenders of Sadera. They are… my Excelsiors… and they… shall know… no fear.

Then, it happened, the statue emanated streams of red glowing light that surged forth into each and every man, their bodies recoiling with tension as they felt the raw power of a god flowing into their bodies. The capes and crests began to glow. Each man would be imbued with the strength of 100. Their endurance to rival that of the walls of a city and with skill to outdo even the greatest of masters. The streams then slowly withered to trickles until they were gone, the men returning back to their kneeling forms. The red glow dissipated and the statue returning to its normal state. These men were now Excelsiors.

"The ceremony is finished. You are now part of the elite brotherhood of soldiers. Go with the determination and pride that Emroy has bestowed upon you. Go in the knowledge you are the greatest that Sadera has to offer. Go and make your father proud." Rory declared

With that, the soldiers left in perfect unison following the centurion, those who gathered cheering and weeping in joy. No sooner did they all leave did the families depart, and the priest was the last to leave, giving Rory a farewell before the space went empty. Rory herself began to leave until she felt a presence. But not a foreign one. She turned to the statue of Emroy, its eyes began to glow again as it began moving. Emroy wished to speak with his apostle.

"I see you have also been among the lands of the Otherworld." He said.

"Why not? They were cautious but certainly not hostile… and it proved to be of a benefit for Pina speaking to the Senate." She answered.

"Surely you do not expect the war to stop so soon?"

"Well no… but it would've been nice… especially after seeing what I saw over there and how different we are."

"Indeed. Though I wonder, do they feel the same way?"

"I believe so. At one time in their history, they practically were us, minus the magic." The statue stepped down from its pedestal and stood before the tiny apostle.

"Do they still remember such times? How ones back then may have thought, how they acted?"

"… what do you mean?" Emroy let out a sigh hearing her question.

"You disappoint me, Rory. Have you forgotten? People are like Sadera's legions, they change over time. You recall the stories that Atticus told you, do you not?" Atticus, the apostle before Rory. Oh how she missed him. "People are like battlefields, war, and the blow of blood. Impossible to predict, ever-changing, and always flowing. And while the past is remembered, it is not always the same as those who have been there would remember."

"Well that is true." Emroy was of course referring to how times change. "Too bad things just aren't that simple."

"If things were simple, we'd rule the entire continent long before you were born."

Rory let out a small laugh. "Indeed."

"If they truly remember such things, then they should know we do not just 'call a ceasefire' without a good reason, and threats do not count. So, what did you tell the Otherworlders? Surely you told them of our achievements and troubles."

"What I could in the time we had. They know of our military might and our drive. They know of our desires and needs. But there is still much they do not know. Much they need to realize. They know of the Ictuns, the Denzalcians and the Orcs, the other nations of the world have yet to be known to them."

"What of the Twilight Gap?"

"I'm afraid we have forgotten about that… given how much we experienced over there." Rory admitted shamefully.

Emroy was silent and looked out to what could be seen from here. Still a lot of the city could be taken in. And from this location, it was certainly a sight. Almost as good as from the very top on the palace. "Well you would do well to tell them. It may perhaps give a chance in peace talks succeeding. There's no telling when he will mobilize again." Rory did not answer. Just looked back out there. The feelings she was suppressing for the event were beginning to come back. Guilt. Loss. Anger. "I remember." Emroy said, feeling her state of being. "When you first came into my care until it was your time to become an apostle."

She did remember… did she ever. How could she not?

961 years ago.

There was nothing very spectacular about the town of Luceria. It was the typical Saderan settlement.

Like any Saderan town or city, every attempt to recreate the aspects of Mother Sadera was taken. When a Sederan town was made, or when another's was taken, they were there to stay. Changing the land and its people forever. Virtually every settlement followed a square pattern with all the important buildings in the forum. An aqueduct, baths and playing field. And of course walls. Just inside the walls was a sacred trench called the pomerium. It set the spiritual boundaries of a Saderan city or town. It assured the protection of the gods. The wall and pomerium were the difference between order and chaos to the people of Sadera. Luceria was built after the recent total conquest of the land. It had yet to embrace true Saderanization and was therefore still subject to colonization.

Luceria was close to the coast of the Twilight Gap, a large channel separating the continent from a large collection of islands. Where they say, the sun never shines and only evil reigns supreme.

Though not much happens here in Luceria; that was all Rory knew. Daughter of one of the governor's assistance, her life was a little over well to do. Education wasn't very… primitive one could say. The advanced stuff was for those wishing to enter politics. It was required to send your child to school to ensure they are raised in proper Saderan way. Of course the parents were still expected to intervene and do their part. A Saderan student progresses much like a modern student. Girls while allowed to attend, were not as involved. After all, you do not need to know how to build a grand temple or barter for a fortune in Suwani to be a good mother. No. A great mother. In a modern society it may be seen as backward, but in a society like this, it is a sacred duty. To care for the children, the LITERAL FUTURE of an empire. That is what Rory was often up to. But of course, if you're going to marry a rich husband, which was her father's hope, it helps to be as important to the running of the household as the husband. This is particularly true in our own Medieval times, where the barons, dukes, counts and kings would have to go off to fight with their levies and knights.

But for Rory, it was just a fact in life. In these days she was an innocent flower of a child, like all Saderan girls. Wearing a clearly expensive girl's toga. She had recently left her home to play with the other children who she had been friends with for a very long time. Over there in the forum at the large fountain. She was currently looking over in her reflection waiting for her friends to arrive. The sounds of the people going around looking for a good deal went well with the closer and louder sounds of water spewing up and back down into the pool at her reflection. She was so enamored she didn't hear someone sneak up on her."

"Ave!" A boy shouted, scaring Rory. She turned to see her same-aged friend, Cassius.

"Cassius, you fool! I could've fallen in!" She protested.

"But you didn't, did you?" He asked smarmily. "Busy looking at yourself?"

Rory just scoffed, looking to the rest of the children who had joined them. Felix, Hadriana, Marcellus, to name a few. "Enough!" She said, reciting a word her father's boss often said. "What shall we do today?"

"How about Knucklebones? I brought my sheep bones." Hadriana said.

"Naw we played that yesterday."

"How about Saderan Ball? The courtyard at the temple is empty." Marcellus suggested.

"Nooooooo." The others answered.

"Well what DO you wanna do?" Rory asked.

"Let's go out to the stream!" Felix declared.

"You know our parents don't like it when we do that." Rory warned. The others laughed.

"What are you? A father's daughter?" Marcellus teased, causing Rory to get red. "You always agree to that. Are you becoming a merchant magnet or something?"

"Oh hush you! You know how father gets when we go beyond the walls! This isn't exactly our territory yet you know." She answered.

"Awwwwwwwwwwww pleaaaaaaase Rory? It's no fun without you!" Hadriana begged, along with the other girls there. Being a kid, peer pressure is like trying to hold up a weight, you can't fight it long. So she let out a sigh and agreed, much to the joy of her friends. They wouldn't go out through the gate though, they had a different way. A grate that allowed a stream to go through the town. The spaces between the bars were big enough to let them out, and they kept an eye out for patrolling Vigiles Urbani, the armed citizenry who also served as police and firemen. As soon as the last of the kids got out the gate, they immediately scurried away to the river. The waste that ran into it and into the sea further away was nowhere around this part of the river. They did this every now and then, they would sneak off and go for a swim. It has of course led to more than one little lecture from their parents, but what can you do with kids?

Rory emerged from the water letting her hair flail about. "Well there is a pro to sneaking off into the river."

"Told ya!" Hadriana said.

"Yeah, why are you so keen on staying cooped up in there with your father anyway? You have plenty of time in your life last I checked." Marcellus said.

"It's not just abiding to the rules, it's to stay safe and ensure prosperity. I can't really do much when I'm out in the lands owned by the barbarians, now can I?" Rory answered.

"Well I guess that does make some sense." Felix said leaping in. "Father always says that when in doubt, pray to Flare that the walls will stand."

Marcelus let out a big laugh as he playfully tackled Rory. "Come on! We pummeled the people who once ruled this land! We rule them now! If we're so adamant on safety why not just crush them all and enslave the survivors? It makes it much simpler in the end."

"We do that but there's a limit." Felix answered. "Mother Sadera endured for at least 4,000 years because of its ability to expand and Saderanize instead of just trample and enslave. No one's keen on tempting fate. We have the strongest military in existence but we don't just go around doing what we will just because of it. You need diplomacy and reason too."

Rory smirked. "Looks like I'm not the only one obeying my father's wishes." Felix's father happened to be a real big political animal.

"Don't laugh. It's not just politics, it's the nature of living beings to resist. Yet it's also that same nature to go with the flow. When all's said and done it's the policy of the Emperor and Senate that are a reflection of our fears and desires." The rest of the children did listen, but to varying degrees as they were more keen on playing and splashing. "You may think it's sad to hear what people will part with for some fleeting protection. But make no mistake, as history has shown, such things can be absolutely fleeting. Walls may stand but they don't last forever. That much my father has told me. For sooner or later, one will rise up and challenge the alpha male and fight viciously to take his place. It's only a matter of time until something, anything, happens."

"You're putting such a damper on our fun!" Marcellus cried. "I don't even wanna swim anymore!" The rest of the children agreed, getting out of the stream and heading to dry themselves off.

"Well… what now?" Asked Hadriana.

Rory turned. "How about honey cakes? My mother is making a bunch of them. They should be done by now!" Upon hearing this, the children let out joyful cries. Nothing beats honey cakes! They returned from their short swim and back through the grate.

"Well well, what do we have here?" An aged voice asked. Rory, being the first through, looked behind her nervously to see three men. One robust, middle aged man bearing a mustache with to Vigiles on his flanks.

"…hello Prefect Domitas." She said nervously. The Prefect held up an eyebrow at her, then looked through the grate at the other children. Then let out a hearty laugh.

"Sneakin off again I see!" He declared.

"We… we just got back… heheh…"

"Of course of course. Hooooooo it's a good thing we're such good friends or I'd tell your parents! Heheheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!" He went on as the others came through. "False alarm boys, just the kids again." The men let a small smirk form. Oh they'd been through this before. Many times. Domitas grew to like these little troublemakers, they reminded him so much of himself in his boyhood.

"At least it's just you." Marcellus said.

"Come now, let's go before your parents really DO suspect something." Domitas said.

"URGH!" Hadriana cried. "You smell like a winemaker!" Another hearty laugh was heard.

"Yep. I had some wine earlier. A little nip keeps the boredom away. Perks of bein Prefect of the Vigiles. You know how it is young ones."

The kids giggled, except for Marcellus, who got angry, then snapped at him. "How are you supposed to fight if you're so loose on your feet?!"

Domitas looked at the boy with mild confusion. "Now why would I wanna fight?"

"Why do you think?! What if the barbarians break the gates down and flood into the town with their filthy musty hair and bad breath?! We'd be left to the mercy of their malign gods!"

"Heheheh. The kid has some fire in him. He'll make a real legionary someday." One of the vigiles said. He continued with, "Don't worry child, the only thing most of them have done is scratch at it. They're the dumb ones with the stupid tattoos and a lack of imagination. The smarter ones conformed and are embracing us and look where they are. Their kids are citizens now! If the dumb ones ever use what little brainpower they have we'll be more than ready for them."

Marcellus however, just kept at it. "What have you done to be prepared for them? Dad says you have to stay sharp!"

"Can't argue with that. Thing is what we the vigiles do is mostly related to the inside of the walls. The legionaries are the guys who beat the living excrement out of the dung throwers."

"He's right." Domitus said. "A soldier's time out on the field is a whole different perspective, son. You see them wander around like animals while the real threats are often elsewhere and on the other side of the continent."

"Then at least have the decency to stop calling yourselves a garrison! People may get the wrong idea!" Marcellus shouted.

"HAHAH! Good point! More wine for me! But son… think about it this way. If a garrison actually does what people think it oughta do, as in fight, we're in real trouble. Sure it's no good being a freeloader at times, but if a freeloader can freeload, than the people are often times safe from harm. It measures peace of mind and public order." Marcellus resorted to just seething, seeing as there was nothing else for him to say. All the way back to Rory's home. Next to the governor's home.

Of course no one ever mentioned going outside the walls to the river. Everyone just ate the cakes and laid back to relax. THIS was Rory's life… and boy was it good. From there, she went to the upper balcony to sit upon the sella for herself. Looking out to the sky, so clear and blue, clouds everywhere, and bird about… life can be good even at the lower rungs of a high life. She slept there for the moment. Dreaming of times to come. Not taking notice of the goings on.

She slept. Hearing nothing.

Not even the torrent of ravens flying above the town.

…

Rory shook herself form the memory.

"No no! Now's not the time for that!" She didn't want to remember that now. She turned to Emroy, only to see he had returned to the podium, the statue back to its inert, non-possessed state. Rory looked back out across the city.

"How am I supposed to tell them?"

Unknown location, Malaysia.

"… okay… let me get this straight… you just got back from Japan."

"Yes."

"Who is NOW in the midst of looking for you and any of our sympathizers."

"Yes."

"After failing a plan of your doing."

"Yes."

"And now… you want to GO BACK?!"