[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqIF4YS9pTo[/youtube][/center]

To those who follow after, this is what war is.  You come to this place to fight over a place that means something to somebody, but all it is is a hill of dirt or a line in the sand.  Nothing irreplaceable is won or lost, except for those you throw at the line.  In the end, Isaac wasn't sure if they'd really achieved anything today.  Perhaps those being sent in their stead would keep the hill captured or maybe even capture the artillery that was involved in all this.  But Hill 58 wasn't anywhere special.  That's why it was given a number.  The real places that mattered would be where people lived, worked, or had real history attached to.  Everything else just seemed to be a waste of time.  Certainly the [i]lives[/i] were wasted.  The Lance-Corporal kept looking over the battlefield on their return and shaking his head.

[color=f7941d]"If it's like this for us, I wonder what the Imperials are thinking, starting this war."[/color]

Britta simply countered this with [b][color=ed1c24]"I think they think they'll win."[/color][/b], which...admittedly, put the finger on the hub of the matter.  This was somebody's ambition.  Isaac had never really met people with ambition beyond merchants and performers, but people of authority didn't come into his life until now, and Lieutenant Middleton figured prominently in that decided failing of life.  Whatever it was he was after, he didn't need it this badly.  Nor did the Imperials, come to think of it.  At no point had he ever heard of them on the verge of mass starvation or over-population.  Of course, a war might solve all that if enough people died, so it was hard to tell what their plans were.  They were nearing the trench now when Isaac paused.

[b][color=ed1c24]"Something wrong?"[/color][/b]

[color=f7941d]"Maybe.  You agree that this group needs to be looked after by people like us, right?"[/color]

[b][color=ed1c24]"Right."[/color][/b]

[color=f7941d]"I think that'd better count Lucia, no matter [i]how much[/i] of a stranglehold he has on her."[/color]

[b][color=ed1c24]"No argument here.  Just don't get carried away.  If Middleton has you shot, you can't help me keep everyone safe."[/color][/b]

[color=f7941d]"I know, I know..."[/color]

That man was so hard to figure out...and right now, he was going to be a bit hard to find.  Middleton hadn't followed them yet, and Jean was off to go looking for him.  And in the wake of his departure, there had been some bad news: Casualties were in, among them Mila, of all people.  She hadn't died in her crazy charge, shouting at the top of her lungs, just suddenly later on, presumably when the artillery struck not long ago.  Franz looked like he was dead himself, reporting that fact.  He had nothing for him.  He didn't know either of them that well yet.  All of them only met today, but then again...today was probably the very day they were as one, bound by the circumstances that brought them to this war and branded by the hell they just went through, with the promise of more to come.

Isaac asked Britta to help him keep an eye on people, and he thought...Mila actually seemed familiar to him.  She was from Edinburgh too, wasn't she?  They might've met sometime, maybe in town.  He couldn't place the reason why.  Just something about the demeanor she'd had seemed familiar.  He was still trying to place the memory when Middleton, Jean, and Lucia returned.  The girl was out-cold, and that frosted Isaac's own temper.  His first inclination was to think 'What'd he [i]do[/i] to her?!', but then the Gunner noticed that she was not actually harmed.  However, he'd also had enough of this.  Jean asked that they take care of her and then he retreated into himself. Michael elected to take her to the rear line to rest.

[color=f7941d]"Thank you, Michael.  Let me know if there's anything she needs later on if you can't provide it on your rank."[/color]

He noticed Franz following after him.  He wouldn't blame the guy if he got a rest, as well.  Alot of them would need it.  No sooner had he turned to go on his own 'journey', though, than another Private began talking to Jean.  Jean was...probably hit the hardest by all this, and the words that followed - hollow-sounding things from a broken man - seemed to confirm this thought.  Reyna was seeing him at his worst, from having to fight to having to lead from having to deal with Middleton from having to deal with loss.  It was all weighing down upon him.  Isaac felt some of that weight, but he knew that Middleton and everyone else who wasn't their immediate team was being hard on him for being a Darcsen.  In short, it was too much pressure, and every attempt to build him up had failed.  Isaac piped in to explain now.

[color=f7941d]"It's been especially hard on him, Reyna.  Nothing but troubles piled upon troubles.  He was the one who took charge immediately when the Sergeant died, and the artillery didn't help us much either, when it came."[/color]

He turned to Jean specifically now.  The poor guy was feeling hopeless.  They were the same rank.  He had to do this for him.

[color=f7941d]"Jean, you've been doing nothing but taking it all on yourself since you got her.  Leading the charge, taking the responsibility, hearing the abuse...  You don't need to prove yourself anymore.  Go get some rest.  Let me deal with Middleton for a while.  I want a word with him, anyway."[/color]

Jean wasn't in any state to command right now.  He'd said as much, just now.  He deserved a damn medal, but they weren't going to give it to him and any one of them would trade such a thing to never have to face this hell again or deal with the loss of comrades.