You may be wondering why he was being quiet now.  The answer was simple, really.  When Isaac ran out of words to say, he just stopped talking.  Conversation is a funny thing.  Many will just keep going and going on about stuff, even when they're not actually saying much of anything.  That was one thing Isaac preferred: To be meaningful in word and deed.  Don't boast and bluster, alright?  If you oversell yourself, you'll soon find yourself in a position you're unable to pay for.  This whole time, those damn recruitment people and trainers were trying to push him into things.  He didn't need this.  He wasn't suppose to be a part of this war.  Isaac was fighting for the freedom of his own person from the orders that put him here.  For that act, the Imperials were going to pay for this.  The only ray of sunshine here was that he had managed to have an effect on the people around him when he spoke.  Paloma was one person who didn't need his help, and he even said to her, [color=f7941d]"Yeah, never lose that disposition, alright?"[/color] while agreeing with Jean.  They needed her to keep people feeling fine.  Maybe even [i]he[/i] would lighten up.  No, we don't mean Middleton.  That guy is incurable.  We mean Isaac himself.  So far, he wasn't in the best of moods, and he was just putting on a good face.  Hopefully overtime...that would change for the better.  Because right now, he had good reason to feel out of it - and a little angry - especially now that he was a bit quiet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[i]They threw him in the cell because they didn't want even the slightest chance of him running off, not when they believed they had a gold mine of a man to send to war.  He wasn't even allowed to go home to get annything because the recruiter thought he might run off or that his family would shield him.  Well, truth be told, he might've been right, but that didn't mean they had to do it like this.  He was bbehind the bars as his older brother argued the very same reasons that he had, and that it was inhuman to keep a man from his home and his family, even if he HAD been drafted, right up until his departure for training.  In the end, they were allowed to ask him what he wanted from home and they'd deliver it to him.  He was to be transferred to the camp tomorrow morning, when a car could come get him.  That night, Isaac felt really low, and angry, and probably a bunch of other bits and pieces of emotion that he couldn't resolve.  Even fear, just a little bit of fear.  He went to the barred window and he actually howled.  It was an impulsive and stupid thing, and the anyone in earshot inside the building immediately got pissed off, but then after that...

He received a reply.

[color=f7941d]"Oh my god...  Rikes..."[/color]

If you have to ask how he knows, you haven't been paying attention.  Isaac was stunned.  It was something he had been trying to do for years, but they never did until now.  His wolves, the ones he'd been raising to pass on to other owners, the ones led by Rikes, the alpha.  He'd gotten them domestic and useable for people, but he in turn also felt connected to them.  He wanted their acknowledgement, as strange as it sounded.  He admired their solidarity as a pack.  And after the sad farewell to his family that he'd gotten through cell bars, this was something he needed badly.  It made him think that they'd really remember him, and that actually made him tear up.

Isaac really hoped that this would be the only sadness he'd feel in this war, because he knew times were gonna be tough on him.[/i]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back to reality, Isaac noticed that there was an irritable Sergeant pulling and shoving people in their cramped trench now.  He first noticed when he shoved Britta, and let out sort of a low growl when he did that.  This wasn't necessary.  These people knew what they were suppose to do, and they knew that the next few minutes or hours were going to be hell.  Being in perfect formation wasn't going to help that.  He moved his attention back to the front once he was gone, and in time to hear Jean talking to a Private who was feeling the fear and loathing [s]in Las Vegas[/s] of the war.  The soldier was practically pleading with his fellow Lance to somehow get him away from having to go over the top.  Damn...  This was what they might end up as in a few missions, themselves.  Isaac had to speak now.  Jean had run out of words, so it was his turn.

[color=f7941d]"I know you don't wanna go, but they're going to make us all do it, anyway.  Think of it this way: Us greenhorns need you because of your experience to show us the way.  I know you don't want us to die anymore than you do yourself, so help us look after each other."[/color]

It was at that point that he heard someone say to can the chatter.  Isaac looked over his shoulder and said [color=f7941d]"Just doing my job, Sarge."[/color], followed by a low mutter of [color=f7941d]"You ass."[/color].  It was the best he could do.  Fear was in them all, and while the rest of them had the fear of not knowing just how bad this could be, this guy had the burden OF knowledge, so he was in a [i]different[/i] kind of hell.

So now, Lieutenant Middleton was explaining how Hill 58 was an all-important strategic point to capture annd that they needed to combat the Imperials with everything they've got for their freedom and whatnow.  Really, it was a nice speech there, but Isaac pulled out the little flaw in the whole thing, and it was this: Hill 58 implied that there were ALOT of hills to climb, and that told him that this speech - or others like it - was gonna be used for [i]all of them[/i].  Somehow, it's what he felt was going on.  What happened next, though...  That required no subtext.  The Lieutenant now made a public display of...let's call it his official policy.  He was one of those 'Victory or death' types.  He'd heard of these.  You hear about people who refuse to retreat, regroup, and reconsider their options for battle.  They end up either slaughtered to a man or [i]nearly[/i] slaughtered and victorious, but either way the body count was too high.

This policy was that a soldier - not even a veteran who was use to any of this, but a young girl, in this case - was to kill anyone who attempted to return to the trenches for ANY reason.  What...the hell?  Not only was the Lieutenant turning rifles - Well, one rifle - on them, but he placed this burden on a girl who did NOT look like she was up for this.  They were trained to fight The Enemy.  Federation soldiers were not The Enemy.  This simple conflict might end up crushing her.  Isaac would [i]almost[/i] say that this was the sort of thing that you would preferrably put upon HIM, except that he wouldn't want to do it either!  This was insane!  It practically made [i]Middleton[/i] a traitor!  You can't shoot your own people!  It's not even friendly fire!  It's just murder!  Isaac watched as the girl - Lucia, her name was - was crying already, and she hadn't even taken the first shot.  He felt bad for her, and he couldn't take his eyes off until they [i]needed[/i] his attention up front.

It was time.

Bayonets and other things were drawn.  Those with machine guns didn't have bayonets.  They just didn't work with such machines, especially when you considered the fold-out legs attached to the barrel.  Isaac noticed a bunch of modified weapons in the hands of other people.  They seemed to have more reach than his trench knife, but were they better, overall?  Maybe he'd find out later.  He heard Jean speak up, working to encourage people in a last-minute sort of fashion.  He appreciated the effort.

[color=f7941d]"Remember your training and remember supporting each other!  You'll need it!"[/color]

[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjUV7GVeQoo[/youtube][/center]

Now, came the whistles.  For some, this resounding noise was already a climbing dreadful thing that would probably haunt them all in their sleep before the day was done.  Isaac didn't like the sound of it either, but he wouldn't have time, really, to contemplate it now.  The moment had come, the order to CHARGE was given.  Rain was everywhere.  This was gonna be rough, or rather [i]slippery[/i].  God dammit, work at the farm was hard enough in the rain.  Why the hell did they have to WAR in the rain?!  There was this roar of people as the battle charge commenced.  Why did they do that?  Wouldn't it actually creep the enemy out more if they were strangely quiet?  No time for that now, approaching the ladder-  Dammit!  He had to duck low because someone just got shot and almost fell on him as he was reaching for the rung.

[color=f7941d][i]Shit!  Shit!  Shit![/i][/color]

He made it over the top.  It was a barrage of bullets in no particular direction, because they had plenty of targets to choose from.  Isaac got moving, using a sort of low run he preferred to do when hauling heavy.  You may not know, but when you're carrying a load on your back or something, moving lower naturally made you more able to move.  It was balances and such.  You may still be slowed down, but you'll be able to [i]move[/i], as in properly.  Besides, keeping low was what you were suppose to do in these situations.  Isaac also thought keenly of what ELSE he was suppose to do.  He braced himself as he fired ahead of people and in the direction of their opposition when he saw an opening here and there.  The enemy needed something to think about, bullets to feel panicked about.  Even if it was a bit far, he needed to do this for the sake of his people, especially for the Shocktroopers who had to get in close.  If he found himself exposed, he was taking a dive to the ground, getting ready to try and fire on anyone looking over the enemy trench, provided he could see anyone.  Damn rain...  He was gonna get people out of this alive, and if that meant sacrificing the lives of many Imperials so he could give his 'superiors' the earful they deserved for this bullshit, then so be it.