Author's Note: This chapter is much shorter than the first three. If you read this story please review. Enjoy. P.S. NO FLAMERS PLEASE.

The smoke was just lifting. The battle was won, the casualties were five. Two of them lay side by side. A lone officer was roaming the corpse ridden field, collecting his thoughts. He passed the body of an elite that had been blown apart from the inside. A vision flashed in front of him of a marine down the alien's throat.

He took out a small bottle filled with small, round pills. He looked at the bottle. Another vision; this time it was a soldier lying on the floor of a pelican. "I think you should see help Sarge." He lost his grip on the bottle and it fell to the ground. He fell to his knees. The scenes of their deaths flashed before his eyes. Charley jumping, Dan falling. The officer covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

Everything stopped. He opened his eyes. The field was gone. Everything was gone. There was now a floor and a ceiling. Each was pure white and extended to every horizon.

"Sarge..." An echoing voice came from behind him. There in front of him, was private Dan Flohr, standing tall on both legs intact. "I don't have much time. Charley is here too." A slightly taller man appeared beside Dan.

"Hi, Sarge."

"Sarge, the reason we're here, talking to you now, is that we came back to thank you." There was a silence as Sarge got to his feet. "You were a great leader, and an inspiration to the both of us. You taught us things we'll never forget. For that…" They were standing back on the field. "we salute you." Dan and Charley raised their right hands in a hearty salute. Sarge gave them one back. Then the two soldiers began to fade and disappear. "Good-bye Sarge."

"Sarge!" A faint voice came from behind. He turned around. One of the remaining marines was trying to get his attention. Sarge brushed himself off, and walked back to the hill. "What were you doin' Sarge?" Sarge looked back at the field. Everything seemed normal.

"Just saying 'bye to some friends."

2 years later…

Eleven men sat in a circle. They were all talking. One of the men stood up. "Hello, my name is Travis, and I'm a pyro." Another man, holding a clipboard asked him a question.

"Could you describe this problem in more detail?"

"Well, it started out as just a hobby. I wasn't crazy with it and I knew what I was doing. Then I turned 21 and started drinking. The next thing I know, I was missing all my hair and waking up in an armored van."

"Interesting." The man with the clip board finished his notes and turned to another man. "How about you? Why are you here?"

A small man wearing a torn leather jacket stood up and spoke. "My name is Sergeant Daniel Flohr. I have an addiction to pain medication.

TO BE CONTINUED…