A tall man stared into the sky with tired grey eyes. No words escaped his stubbled jaw as the Alliance transports flew overhead and out of the sky. They left them there. He looked down at the men around him. dozens of men under his command. Not a one of them younger than him. He looked at the flag on their shoulders and wondered what he found so reassuring in it not a day ago. His own superiors, his own government had left him there. He saw Sgt. Starkri pushing forward to his position. He sighed. His age had always been a sticking point between the two of them. But he would not lose control of his command. Especially not now.

"sergeant get back to your post."

"No offense, Lieutenant, but we don't have any posts right now. We've been tossed aside. There is NO command. So you can bite my-"

"sergeant!" His hand fell to his pistol. There were only ten in existance like it. Each belonged to one of the graduates from the Alliance Academy. Of them, he was the only one left alive. It was a prototype weapon. The rounds were rocket-propelled slugs, each 20mm in diameter and armed with a small explosive warhead. Resupplies were infrequent and small. He drew the pistol and aimed the large barrel at the sergeant's rather sizeable torso. "You will return to your post or I WILL end you! I will NOT take an arguments!" The sergeant's brown eyes scanned the lieutenant's for any sign of weakness or waver. Finding none, he spit at his feet and went back to his post. Two steps sounded intently behind him.

"You'd have been better off if you'd have shot him, El Tee."

"We've lost enough men, Jones." The lieutenant took off his helmet, and ran his right hand through his hair, a sign that only Jones knew meant he was worried. "Alright, First sergeant. Get 'em up. We're going to make for what's left of command. Get on the comm, see what we've got by way of officers, then-"

"You're it, El Tee."

"What?"

"I've been with Corporal Goldberg on the horn since I heard the strikes dying down.