Chapter Five: Leaders

Aria of Caspian Border Arc

A single dull light shone through the dusted window, illuminating the small room. Other than a single decaying wooden table, the room was devoid of any furniture. Five men stood around it, looking down upon the table with grim and disgruntled expressions. One of the men was much taller and older than the rest. His face looked frail and wrinkles plagued his forehead. He wore no helmet, and his short gray hair gave indication of his ancient past. His arms were long yet muscular for a man his age, and his hands were hard and his fingers were callused.

Stroking his chin, the old man gently spoke:

"No leader should put troops into the field merely to gratify his own spleen; no leader should fight a battle simply out of pique. But a kingdom that has once been destroyed can never come again into being; nor can the dead ever be brought back to life. Hence the enlightened leader is heedful, and the good leader full of caution."

He touched his chest as he talked and patted three small metal pins when he finished. No one knew what every pin represented, but everyone knew it meant the owner was a veteran of many wars.

"There are three ways in which a leader can bring misfortune upon his army: By commanding the army to advance or to retreat, being ignorant of the fact that it cannot obey; This is called hobbling the army. By attempting to govern an army in the same way as he administers a kingdom, being ignorant of the conditions, which obtain in an army; This causes restlessness in the soldier's minds. By employing the officers of his army without discrimination, through ignorance of the military principle of adaptation to circumstances. This shakes the confidence of the soldiers."

Lightly pointing at the first pin, he continued:

"It was here where it all began for me. Here, where I held my first weapon. Here, where I piloted my first tank and plane. The battlefield was large and relentless; we had far more tanks deployed than we do now. And the ability to revive wasn't discovered yet."

Pointing at the second pin, he continued:

"And it was here where I first commanded armies. It was here where we had a true Commander role; where the Commander made the difference between victory and defeat."

Pointing at the third pin, he concluded:

"Finally, it was here where they removed the post in favor of higher squad cooperation. Where pure firepower was more focused than tactical analysis. The battlefield was smaller; but the chaos was much greater."

He looked at the four men listening intently to him. The first man from his left had an M60E4 strapped at his back. His eyes were hidden behind black sunglasses, but his muscular chest protruded from beneath the vest his wore. His arms were thick and his hands looked like steel claws that could crush the plate armor of a T-90 tank. His face complemented his build; hard, straight jaws, strong cheeks, and a big nose. The rest was hidden by the brown helmet and bandanna scarf he wore.

The second man contrasted the first. He was the shortest and the most slender. His arms were like that of twigs, but his eyes told a different story. They were sharp, devious, deceitful, and upon looking into them one may say they have seen a true ghost. An M98B was strapped behind him; the large sniper rifle almost gave him a comical appearance.

The third man was fiddling with a combat knife. His height was average, his build was average, and his overall appearance was by all accounts, average. But the idea of him being your average soldier is the last mistake every person makes when they encountered him. For his knifing ability was the stuff of legends. Uncountable lives have fallen to his blade; rumor has it he never takes the dogtags of his victims. Strapped behind him was a SMAW and a SCAR-H.

Arms folded, the last man was perhaps the most venerable of the four. For his face bore the scars of past battles. He had one pin similar to the old man's; a bolded crimson "2." His skin was darker in tone, and he bore the saddest and darkest of expressions. An M16A3 was strapped behind him, with it an M320 grenade launcher.

"I called you all here today because we are in a crisis. We are dying. We are bleeding. We are loosing."

He pointed at a faded map placed flat on the wooden table.

"Delta and Alpha fell first to our enemy. Echo and Charlie soon followed. The plan of baiting them to Bravo failed. We didn't have enough soldiers to assault these surrounding points. All these men that died defending Bravo… died for nothing."

All four men silently nodded in laminating agreement.

"I am the enlightened leader Sun Tzu speaks of, and I will not allow these deaths to go in vain nor will I allow our enemy to destroy us in such a manner. We will take back Echo and Charlie, we will wrestle our way to Bravo, and we will destroy them at Alpha and Delta. Now is the time to launch a counterattack. And that was why I wanted you four."

He held a silence to allow his speech to sink in before continuing,

"We need leaders to lead our men to victory. We need skilled leaders. I need skilled leaders. Alpha squad! You are the spearhead of our counterattack. You will be the vanguard of it all."

The four men straightened their backs and threw their arms in a stiff salute.

"SIR! YES SIR!" They all said in unison.

Missiles filled the air, and bullets streaked everywhere. M1 Abrams tanks hopelessly defended the falling borders, a determined Anti-Air vehicle blasted away at oncoming jets, and loyal soldiers hurried about attempting to hold the line.

The United States Spawn Point was under siege. It was a calculated attack; first the jets came down with the rocket barrages, then the tanks fired from afar, followed by sniper fire to pin every man down. To top it all off, any vehicle attempting to emerge from the area would be immediately locked-on and destroyed by a Javelin. Yet these men still fought. Leaderless. They knew they were fighting a losing battle. They knew fully that ultimately, they will all die. Yet they still fought. Because every soldier knew that abandoning their team is the greatest of sins.

For one to begin to believe that they have been defeated, then truly, they have been defeated.

Ensign Photonous took that to heart when he blindly fired into the distance. He knew his bullets would do nothing, but the act of just pulling the trigger and firing shows the defiance of one to accept defeat. He was prone behind a jagged rock as Niners to the right of him fired his weapon. Niners knew his bullets won't do anything either for he has not yet mastered the art of gravitational compensation. But he too, won't accept defeat so easily.

DeviantOne sprinted towards them, one hand holding down his helmet while the other holding his weapon. Their short break abruptly ended when the first rocket barrage fell down upon them; incapacitating scores of soldiers that needed to be revived. Behind him was Higgins, hauling a SMAW over his shoulder.

"Niners! Report!" Higgins spat. His voice was forceful and held a tint of anger.

"Same as it was before! Pinned and screwed over!" Niners jubilantly replied. There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Well keep firing! We'll break through eventually!"

They say hoping for too much may bring disappointment. And that was exactly what Photonous thought when the sergeant proclaimed his last statement. They're not going to break through eventually. They're not going to break through at all. In fact he didn't think DeviantOne believed in the words he said either. But still they fought; if not for the sake of winning then for the sake of their own team.

"INCOMING!" Someone hoarsely shouted, "TWO JETS! TWO HOSTILE JETS!"

The LAV-25 and the stationary anti air emplacement unleashed a volley of bullets into the blue skies. Photonous couldn't see the two jets as he looked up, but as he stared longer he saw two distant dots grow bigger and bigger for every second that passes. He saw their noses and ultimately deduced their strafe pattern.

The anti-air assets.

Explosions rocked the ground and threw Photonous off balance as the double rocket barrage obliterated the LAV-25. Nothing remained of it but a deep black crater. The stationary anti air emplacement frantically fired at the two jets but couldn't severely damage any of them as they flew past the Spawn Point.

"LAV DOWN, LAV DOWN! SOMEONE GET THE STINGERS!"

"We got a man down here! MAN DOWN! MEDIIC!"

"SHIT WHEN'S THE NEXT LAV COMING IN?!"

Calls for clarification resonated throughout the outpost; confusion filled the minds of soldiers as their only efficient anti-air asset was destroyed. It wouldn't be another minute before a new one is supplied by high command. A minute was more than enough for two jets with rocket pods to do their jobs.

"THEY'RE COMING IN FOR A SECOND STRAFE! TAKE COVER NOW!"

The two jets made a full turn and began to steady themselves for the second barrage. This time, Photonous deduced, they want to kill as many ground personnel as possible. He swore as déjà vu momentarily distracted him. This time a tree wouldn't be enough. Facing against a double rocket barrage… nothing would be enough.

He considered running before a bright flash followed by a missile exploded into the first jet. With it's right wing lost, the jet tumbled towards the second jet before both collided and formed a ball of radiant fire.

Every soldier on that day saw what happened. All heads turned to the origin of the missile; a SMAW held by an Engineer.

Eyes widened in shock, mouths dropped in awe. Heads crooked in confusion, and knees dropped in happiness.

The Engineer holstered his rocket launcher and pulled out a knife as three other men emerged from a small concrete room to join him. One had an extremely high body build, one looked small and slender, while one looked grim and sad. A fifth man emerged from the concrete room; he was old but looked as wise as a sage.

The old man spoke:

"Soldiers! Brethren! The time to act is now! The time to strike back is now!"

He waved towards the four men.

"I present to you, your new leaders! They are vanguard! And they will start by breaking through the siege! YOU WILL ALL FOLLOW THEM! TO VICTORY!"

The four soldiers disappeared without a trace, as if they all just vanished.

With an inaudible voice the old man muttered: "Military tactics are like unto water; for water in its natural course runs away from high places and hastens downwards... Water shapes its course according to the nature of the ground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe whom he is facing. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare there are no constant conditions. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his opponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-born captain."

Then in the distance, echoes of gunshots. Then screams, explosions, pleas for help and mercy filled the atmosphere.

Photonous glanced over the rock with his squad before seeing in the distance of what was once T-90 tanks, burning husks and bodies.

"Mother of god…" DeviantOne whispered, "Alpha squad…"

Alpha squad.

The squad of Colonel One Hundreds.

[END CHAPTER]