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[sup][u]Set Location:[/u] What remains of Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming[/sup]
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Jackson stood at the edge of the forest treeline as he watched a caravan of Regime trucks driving towards the city. A few months ago, he'd have been one of the soldiers riding along in one of those transport trucks, but here he was. A disgrace to his family name. A rebel. Fighting the fight from the other side of the war he'd been a part of for so long. Sure, the war had been over for a couple decades, but it never stopped in the streets. Pokemon were still being captured, people were still being taken in for 'questioning', and most were put to work like slaves by the Regime. The lower-class was forced to submit to that fate, the upper-class having the advantage of being first pick for Regime infantry and officer ranks.

For Jackson, his way in had been through the family name. His uncle was a Regime officer, a high ranking one at that. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, and Jackson's parents wouldn't let him pass it up. Thrust into a life he never wanted, the Regime did what they could to make him an impressionable soldier. Having spent his first four years in Infantry ranks till they promoted him to an officer. The last two years had been horrible for him. Whatever 'training' he'd been put through was starting to slowly wear off. Jackson began reverting back to his old ways, his old thought process. His [i]own[/i] way of thinking. None of what he was made to do was right, by any means.

As he stood there watching the last truck pass, Jackson thought a lot about the early days of his enlistment. How could his parents have agreed to putting him into this? Making him do these things to people, and pokemon alike. He never got to ask them if it was their true belief, or if they were just scared of Big Man in the sky who was constantly watching [i]'his people'[/i]. His parents had both died in the winter before last, one passing a few weeks after the other. Jackson shook his head of the saddening thoughts and turned to press on through the forests, his Houndour padding along at his side quietly, always vigilant.

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