Operation Silver Shield was a success. By all reports the mission that eliminated target Raven was carried out by Dimond Squadron of the OMFS and was spearheaded by the Princess, Leccamaradel Emma Araish. Her actions had changed history, and everyone was living up the moment she spread her message to the world.

“Mr. President?”

An OMFS agent had moved to the side of the presidential office in Cranbury Hotel, otherwise as Site Tango Hotel Indigo. “Admiral Martian is here.”

“Bring him in.” President Harding ordered as he lowered the report in his hands and placed it on the wooden desk in front of him.

“Mr. President,” With a near-invisible smile, a friendly face entered the office. He and the navy admiral went back all the way to the civil war. They had been on opposite sides for the majority of the conflict, even brushing near each other during ceremonial duties at the end of the war. Once, they were enemies. Now, they were nothing. Being friends was a hard concept in their line of work.

“Chase. It isn’t often that we talk. Even about business.”

“Apologies, sir. I just want to confirm something about what happened in Ignis during the mission to assassinate target Raven.”

“Princess Araish. She broke chain of command, and she is a political figure of her nation,” Harding surmised what the admiral wanted to speak of, “She is already under review, but for now, she is on leave.”

“Unfortunately, this isn’t about the princess. I am referring to what you did regarding the recovery of the city and the current executive order you are about to submit.” Admiral Martian was hesitant. This was something that shocked Harding. The man was never nervous, anxious. For his own actions to cause this distress in the top intelligence officer, there was something that he knew.

“The Senate called for action. I simply responded.”

“Sir, we are not ready for war.”

“This isn’t a terrorist incident, Martian. Jurisdiction is now beyond the capacity of the OMFS and NIA.” Harding stated.

Going silent, the intelligence admiral stared directly into the eyes of the president. He wanted to resist. “My sailors are working around the clock to find an answer to what happened to the 3rd Fleet. You must understand that there is a third party at work trying to dismantle our hold on the Frontier and prevent and assault on the Kingdom of Yondel.”

“I’ve assigned Director Conway to handle it. He and his intelligence officers will handle that, so I need you to refocus on preparing for a naval campaign.”

“Are you going to force an invasion—”

“The Frontier is the priority, do not be mistaken. Project Forerunner must be stopped.”

Martian was shaken. He had misunderstood what Harding intended to do.

“Chain of command will be maintained. This will not happen again. I’m already having the OMFS donate those foreign agents to the Vanguard Unit.”

“A whole company of specialized soldiers, sailors, airmen, and agents. What do you have planned?” Martian inquired returning to his inquisitive nature. “Who is in command?”

“Who else, me,” President Harding answered. “I know you have speculations of what happens under my command, but this, I’m willing to take the risk of having an autonomous unit that only answers to me.” This was something that had to be done. Plausible deniability was not what he was aiming for with Vanguard. Autonomous operators that could carry out a mission in any environment and specialized in direct action was something he needed, less the military and moreover his nation would go to open war.

Perhaps the MSF could’ve been used, but their mission set was on the opposite side of the spectrum.

“Mr. President…” Admiral Martian couldn’t finish the words that formulated in his mind. He sat for some time trying the decipher and understand what Harding as going to accomplish with waging yet another shadow war. The people wanted blood for everything that had happened, and the reaction to the death of target Raven had little to no reaction. Some communities celebrated the death of the terrorist leader, and the pictures of the body bag being taken to Joint-Base Lighting was spread rapidly all over the nation. Yet, the larger effect was minimal as the people of his nation doubled down on the idea of retaliation. The admiral’s eyes scanned over the nearby report that laid just next to the president’s left hand. It was the report that Commander Osho had written, a debrief on the recovery efforts in Ignis and the subsequent detainment and rescue of the surviving members of Dimond Squadron. Mercy and gratitude were not shown that day. Pain, suffering, torture. That’s all there was and what remained within the defeated and battered agents.

“Point, and I’ll shoot,” Harding said. The ten-minute meeting had felt like an eternity. Only ten minutes prior he had been studying the report that the admiral had been staring at. The answers for what happened, what was recovered, who was left were all shown in immaculate detail. Every name, every corpse, every forgotten face. Harding read it all in the exhausting trip he had taken from Ignis back to the capital city.

“I’ll return to Lighting and give you what you need.” Raising himself from his seat, the admiral walked to the doorway and only stopped when he had placed his hand on the doorknob. “Mr. President. I still don’t understand why you decided to bring them here.” That was all he said as he walked out of the room leaving Harding and his lone protection agent in complete silence. Admiral Martian had a point, the reasoning behind why he had brough them all here was something he himself was trying to figure out. Was it pity? Perhaps. He had known what it was like to lose someone in that capacity.

Rising from his seat, he noticed the OMFS agent’s amused look as he walked out of the office and towards the elevator that would lead to the lower floors.

For 2 months did Raven spread terror throughout the Federation of Zivaland. The catalyst to stop him was the only nullification mage within the nation that just so happened to be the First-Born Princess. Leccamaradel was a model to her fellow agents within the OMFS. She was naturally skilled within the fields of diplomacy, intelligence, and combat. It was thanks to her efforts alongside the army and Dimond Squadron that they were able to kill Raven. Without her it would be presumed that the mission to assassinate the target would’ve ended in failure and that the MSF would have to intervene.

The southern border, the Frontier was not yet loss. Harding had both made up time and land. Exiting the elevator as it stopped on the medical floor the first thing the president saw was Captain Oliver Thompson resting his head gently against the wall behind him. He was in casual attire, but next to him laid a large black seabag that held everything he would need to survive in the field for the next three months. His eyes were shut, and the captain seemed to be in a moment of bliss recalling some distant memory as he clutched a silver necklace in his left hand.

If it was any other day President Harding would’ve let the agent be. But he had to interrupt this moment of reverie.

“Captain, Oliver,” the president called out to the captain stirring him and forcing his eyes open. “I didn’t expect to find you here.” He said strolling over. The captain let out a gentle sigh as he clutched the necklace in his hand and tucked it away in his pant pocket.

“Mr. President, I didn’t realize that we were on a first-name basis.” The captain snidely remarked recalling when he has stumbled across the leader of the federation making out with his wife.

“Apologies, Oliver. I’m sure you understand that in times of crisis some formalities tend to go out the window. Anyways, how are you and your team doing?”

“I’m still adjusting. It isn’t every day that I get to lead some green colored men on what is to be a suicide mission.” Oliver remarked with a grunt.

“Well, I have some news.”

“Good news?”

“Not necessarily, but it isn’t horrible either.”

“Then let’s hear it.”

“We have confirmed the location of several facilities and camps within the Dark Zone.” Over the past week sorties had been organized by the army to provide ariel reconnaissance. They had revealed that someone had recently moved into the containment zone and was setting up shop. This was a problem as they were able to slip past the MSF.

“I’m surprised they are still working in that region.” Oliver said.

“There’s a lot to gain.”

“Yeah, and you want us to walk into that,” Oliver grumbled. Harding arched an eyebrow at the captain. “We know what needs to be done, but the directives placed by Admiral Martian are beneficial, I’m sure you know that, sir.”

“Martian is always doing things like that. Trust me, I know the man myself.”

“Still, Princess Araish, Lecca will be needed to carry out the mission. Are you sure we can’t absorb her into my squadron?”

“No.” Was all President Harding said.

Oliver simply nodded as he silently excused himself carrying his large seabag with him to the elevator. Princess Araish, the “Silver Haired Demon” had revealed herself. Within her circle as the princess, she had formed the foreign soldiers under her command into a unit simply known as the Reclaimers. President Harding knew that he would have no sway, no control over her actions, but the least he could do was provide her the resources to carry out her mission and return to the Kingdom of Yondel.

Standing alone in the hall, the echoes of distant machines and the sanitized smell unnerved the president. Harding could remember everything, the heavy smell of blood, urine, and flames. The distant smoke that mingled in with the morning light. The countless bodies that had amassed in a temporary collection point right at the capital of Ignis.

Every face held smiles. How they could in that environment was beyond him. It almost drove him to abandon his sense of judgment and reason.

To his people, his sudden speech and call to arms led him to be viewed as some damned angel that had awoken from its slumber. In truth he was no hero or angel. That was reserved for the only person who had stopped this all, Princess Araish. The public media ate her position up like ravage beasts and they constantly pushed for interviews. Harding was harsh enough to push back, but he did let some things slip to keep the reporters occupied long enough for him to set his plans into motion.

Federal Security Executive Order 13: A Presidential order signed by President David Harding. This emergency order is in place as a response to the growing threat of terrorism and foreign spies through the Federation of Zivaland. The plan gave total control of the armed forces to the president and a select cabinet which included advisors from the Senate. It established the president as the head leader of the nation and bypasses any laws or regulations that would have to be reviewed by the Senate first before power was handed over. The centralization of power would be coordinated by the NIA and carried out by the OMFS and would provide a direct response to all threats throughout the nation. Though, in the case that the president is abusing their authority, a response team from the Senate would organize and sign an arrest warrant for the president and his cabinet.

If humanity was to survive this next war anything and everything had to go. If Harding could bring peace, then he very well would bring around the destruction of his people. This was something that needed to be done in the event that humanity would come across a greater threat similar to what was described in the few vague documents he had received covering Project Forerunner.

His line of thinking was dangerous, but they had allowed him to become President. It was only a matter of time before the consequences of their choice would show their ugly heads. The death of his enemies and the death of his people was something that was going to happen in the coming days. He would carry everyone to the grim reaper and make sure their souls were left to the demon of death.

If anything, what he witnessed as he turned the corner and entered the medical room at the end of the wing reminded him of what needed to be done. How many lives had he taken with him to ensure peace and tranquility? He didn’t know. He had lost count. Witnessing death was nothing new. It was ugly, terrorizing. Everyone died, it was just a part of life. Whether someone was killed during a suicide mission or on the hunt for someone they loved, death would come swiftly enough for them to see their lives flash before their eyes and for the truth of the world to be revealed.

Yet even so…

Looking up at the doorway President Harding met the lifeless, brown eyes that looked at him. Princess—no, Leccamaradel hovered in the doorway and her pale skin and apathetic expression remained unmoving.

David saw a trace of life in the woman. There was a ripple of emotion in her quivering lips and cold, possible hyperthermic body. It was as if her soul, a part of her life had been ripped straight from her body and she was trying her best to not suddenly die. The sensation of death was never warm, it was always cold. The assumption that she could drop dead in front of him any second was plausible and would leave him with yet another name to take to the grave.

“Princess.”

That single word garnered a reaction form the silver-haired maiden. A hint of regret glazed over her eyes as she stood to the side and motioned President Harding inside of the room. It seemed she had remembered her position and that she was standing before the leader of the Federation. As he walked past her, he knew that she was holding back tears as Leccamaradel was biting the inside of her mouth and clenching her hands along the hem of her grey skirt and grasping the bottom of her white sweater. The princess had been like this the entire week. She forced herself to remain in control as her self-truth gleamed that there was little room for emotion or outburst. During that single week, her life felt surreal. The cheers around and the lively atmosphere after she claimed the life of Raven, John Hartman was something she couldn’t not bring herself to smile at.

Her fears were only solidified when the recovery team brought the bodies and casualties home.

No matter how much she cried, how much she prayed, how much she wished for in silence, alone, the constant of living in a shattered world remained. At first denial had arrived. She didn’t want to believe that any of this was real, but once more reality slapped her and forced her to realize that all good things, all things she cherished would eventually come to an end.

She demanded to see him with her own eyes, to assure that reality was to shed the light on the aftermath. There was nothing she could do, not even a tear stained “I love you”, not even one last touch. The blood splattered that was shed unto the battlefield was all she last felt.

Her reflection was casted in the world’s colors. President Harding stood at the foot of the bed at stared at her eyes that had returned to a lifeless state. It was as if she had lost all hope, all sense of purpose. The colors of her clothing, white and grey were common when one was mourning. Unlike other nations and cultures white did not hold the meaning of purity, just life after death. He only wondered if her life amongst the rest of things he had left behind in the war was simply destroyed and forgotten. It didn’t make sense for her to mourn the still alive man lying in the bed, but perhaps she was mourning the loss of her old life. The light of love and beauty she once held was going to wither away as soon as the first bullet was exchanged.

“Lecca.”

Raising her head to the croak of a broken voice, the princess slowly scanned the room around her seemingly coming back to life. Her actions were abnormal, but eventually she let her eyes past the president and now she found herself staring at the man that had called out to her.

Mike Randall was still alive. His left eye, which was now gone, was covered by numerous of bandages that hid the gaping hole in his head. The two locked eyes and once more she felt the warmth through the simple touch of his fingers brushing over her hands that laid on the bed.

“You know, I’m not that entertaining to stare at.” He forced out in a hoarse voice. He tried to laugh at his current situation. This was the third time the princess sat beside him while he spent a part of his life in a hospital bed. Now, he was being looked upon with tearful eyes and a bright smile. It seemed his words alone had brought life back to Lecca.

Holding back gentle sobs, Lecca covered her ugly cry with her left hand as she firmly grasped Mike’s hand. The staff sergeant simply turned his head back to the ceiling as he began to count the revolutions of the slow-moving fan above. He was running an internal check on his body trying to make sure his brain was still working after he took a bullet to the eye.

“Is it wrong for me to stare at you?” After regaining control of her body, the princess shared a gentle smile as she worked to clear her throat.

“I never said anything about that.” Mike struggled to say.

That made her giggle. After the shared time-sharing greetings, Mike had long noticed that President Harding had left the room. His smile faded as he fell into a serious expression. The princess instantly noticed his change in emotion and she clutched his hand tighter as she looked directly into his brown eye. The same-colored eyes she had.

“Lecca.”

He patted the side of his bed as he tried to find an optimal patch to use to raise himself. Misinterpreting what he was doing, the princess slid from her seat onto the bed and placed her head in the gap on his shoulder. Mike was still dazed from the medication that was administered earlier in the morning, but he found her warm and he grew used of the feeling of her tickling breath touching his neck. She held his hand and snuggled close to his body in the attempt to make her Reclaimer feel safe.

Rubbing her fingers on his wrist, the princess could feel his pulse. It was at a steady pace until there was an abnormality and it quickened for just a minute. Then it returned to normal. She knew her heart as much as his own was trying to resist pounding deep within her chest. If they were both to see the end of this war this wasn’t going to work. Perhaps it would be possible for whatever was happening to continue, but the reality check she had witnessed, Mike simply slumping over from a single bullet to the head…

…There was too much to lose to become attached.

And yet, here they were.

Shining through the window the spring sun beamed down on the Federation capital. The light gently shone through the window and revealed the cloud blue sky and the green foliage that was spread around the city. Perhaps if they moved more towards the east, they would even see the light reflecting of the crystal-clear blue ocean, but that was to be held at another time.

How much farther? How much more would they need to fight to see a world without war?

Humans fight no matter the cause. Often, they fight without hate. War was just an extension of politics.

Mike made an oath when he was twenty. He would fight no matter what and battle to defend his people and the constitution that banded them together. However, orders, command staff, ROEs changed. He was handicapped, and now that had landed him where he was.

Lecca was much a mirror of that. She too took an oath to defend her people, yet she was placed in a position that would determine the world stage. Every action she took had negative consequences and she was placed with the responsibility of making sure her people didn’t step out of line and begin a conflict for the sake of shedding blood.

They were two sides of the same coin.

“I won’t lose you again.”

Mike’s eyes widened as the princess removed herself from his shoulder. He tried to push himself up, but the pressure of the princess’s hand pressing him back into the mattress kept him down as he suppressed a groan as a bolt of lightning ran up his back. Her shoulder-length silver hair gently fell over her shoulders and shined in the sunlight that lightened the room. Her pale skin was marred with small scars, but even so, she was… beautiful. She placed her calloused hands on his face. Her hands were cold against his face, but all he could pay attention was the brown, shiny eyes that were locked with his. Her bell-like voice resonated deep in his soul and all he could do was listen.

Lecca had already made a vow that day. She would do everything it took to bring this world into peace, but she could only do it with somebody by her side. Who she needed was someone that wouldn’t give in and that would continue to fight for not just himself, but his family. It only took a year, but the Rangers had fully accepted her into their family of brothers-in-arms. She was one of them, and now she had chosen her Reclaimer that would bring justice and hope back to her nation. Even if he left, she wouldn’t let him leave without fully showing how grateful she was to have somebody like him in her life. His strong firm demeanor and firm, yet gentle voice was the man her father described that would help lead her kingdom to prosperity. He was all she needed in this burning world.

Lost in the dizziness, the two didn’t realize how close they had gotten before history watched them silently from high above.

There was always a constant...

Sometimes they both needed somebody to save them.