Home | Works | About | Alpha? Beta? | Trololo | Contact

Mistakes Were Made - Work in Progress -

(Alpha v1.0.1)

Where Legends Gather

Crude Rank

     “Yes, it’s been decided upon unanimously,” she said. Her look was dry, her eyes straight. She was not lying.

     “But, Lieutenant, I’m not sure if I can lead an army. Besides, I’m just a kid,” responded Wil.

    “Perhaps, but our captain was killed in action and we need a new leader,” replied Rebeka.

     “I fail to see how I would make a good leader; I’m an idiot,” said Wil.

     “Probably, but a leader is simply someone who people can gather around for support. Also, a bad leader is forced to threaten his men; I don’t see why you would threaten any of yours.” she said. Wil could find no words to counter her argument.

     “Fine, I suppose,” said Wil retreating from the debate.

     “Good. Thank you, Commander,”

     “‘Commander’?” asked Wil. There was a short pause. "I guess that’s going to take a little getting used to, isn’t it?”

     “Oh you’ll get used to it, Commander, you have to…Commander,” implied Rebeka.

     “Alright! I get it,” replied Wil annoyed.

---

     Some months later, war broke out with a neighboring country. The frontline was north, which was a desolate tundra region. Wil was transported to the headquarters of this battlefield on a helicopter, and for the first time in his life, saw snow. Upon landing, Wil felt a cold rush of air like he had never felt before, but it was a fresh and friendly draft.

     He was taken to the commanding building and there received a synopsis of the terrain, weapons, positions and other information he would use for his strategy. Simply staring at the projected map, he had come up with a plan, despite the fact that he wasn’t paying attention.

     “Sir, we’re being attacked from the western flank,” said the lieutenant in charge. Wil stood up and began to approach the entrance.

     “Where are you going, Commander?! You stay here and give orders!”

     “I’m going to command the battle and answer questions if any arise. I won’t leave my men out there to die, if they do, then by hell I’ll die with them,” replied Wil as he blasts through the doors.

     Some officers and battalion leaders followed, others reached for their communication devices and provide the information for the soldiers at the western front.

     A few minutes later, Wil and the officers who followed him arrived at the western front. They were out of breath and found that the battle had quickly turned to chaos for them. Blood was splattered everywhere, arms and legs hung loosely on the remains of killed soldiers, whether enemy or ally and pink snow surrounded the conglomerate of corpses. Some soldiers continued to fight on both sides, but amid the destruction, a small battalion survived, and they approached Wil.

     “Damage report!” commanded Wil.

     “We seem to be low on men, but we were able to take out a great deal of the enemy soldiers. Our tanks and artillery have been damaged and only four remain, even though unstable. We might be able to overrun the remainin—”

     “Commander Wil!” yelled an officer, “We’ve just received information that the eastern front is under attack as well. What are we going to do?”

     It only took him a few seconds to think. “Everyone here moves to defend the eastern front. But we’ll move slowly north as so that we can flank the enemy,” said Wil confidently.

     “Affirmative,” replied the officer. He then sent back the order and Wil prepared their movement forward.

     The squad moved onward, but little by little they were killed off by enemy sentry in the way. However, they were close to the enemy’s base for that region. Wil didn’t know what to from here on.

     “There are only five of us left, there’s absolutely no way we’re going to go in and make it out alive! In addition to that, we have had no radio contact with our headquarters since we’ve ventured past the signal area!” yelled a soldier.

     “I’m not sure if the decisions I made were the right ones,” said Wil quickly, “but things can't be any better or any worse, so we move on anyway. We could call for reinforcements, but that would only increase the chances of revealing our position. From here on we move with stealth.”

     “Bah, we won't make it; you've bought us nothing but misfortune!” said an officer.

     “Maybe, but your real target is glory, and the confidence it gives. People think too highly of themselves over time. This is the flaw of power. It’s tenacious and stupid; but it's stupidity that can still get us killed.”

Written 02.13.2008