Written by Jorge "Vino" Rodriguez

Where have all the flowers gone? Anders wondered to himself. Aren't we in May? Where is the sun?

Anders stretched his neck and shielded his eyes with his hands, trying to find from which direction the sun would be had these gobs of clouds not covered the sky from horizon to horizon. The ground lacked shadows, and the clouds had been present all day, smothering any hope of warmth or even a break to the dreariness that cast itself over the landscape.

Not that there was much to see. The weather in this place might be dreadful, but the living conditions were worse. Maybe it was the weather that discouraged anybody who knew better to settle here, but the people who had settled certainly didn't know what they were missing. The houses were made of anything the poor people could get their hands on. The area lacked running water or a sewage or waste collection system. The fact that a battle had passed through the area did not help, and many areas of the slum were completely destroyed.

But it was May. The flowers always bloomed every May, even here in the armpit of society. Every May, except for this one apparently. No, it was still too cold.

"Anders! You just volunteered for a special mission. Report to command HQ at once, you're relieved." The replacement placed his rifle on the ground and leaned on the barrel, making himself at home.

Anders sighed. He knew why he was stationed to this area, and why he kept getting volunteered for missions. He knew this area well. Anders re-attached his canteen to his belt and stumbled to his feet. Anders had eaten nothing yet today, and his stomach enjoyed reminding him of that fact. After long enough of this treatment, his legs had begun to protest his stomach's resentment and now his entire body echoed the complaint in unison. But there was nothing to eat, and anyways, he was used to it. He'd been hungry before, and there was really nothing to do but ignore it, so he hobbled out the door in the direction of the command center.

As Anders entered the HQ tent, he snapped to attention, making a sick joke to himself that pulling his gut in would not be all that hard given his current state of nourishment. "Private First Class Anders reporting as ordered, sir."

Three officers were in the tent, and it was barely large enough for the four of them. Two of the officers were arguing over a tactical map laid out across a small table. These two completely ignored him, continuing their bickering. The third officer looked up. "What are you doing here, Anders? You're supposed to be on watch."

Anders fell out of attention. "I was relieved. I was told to come here for some kind of special assignment."

The officer scoffed. "So you're part of this debacle too, eh?"

"I guess so, Captain. What's it all about?"

One officer looked up from the map and discussion. "When speaking to an officer, you say sir."

Anders snapped back to attention. The officer who had just chided him was Major Hadlan, a regular of the Numeni Military Forces until his defection two years previous. He came from a strong military background, and was always straightening out the comparatively slack Machindo forces, who acted more like a militia, lacking in discipline but abundant in spirit. Anders should have known better than to let down his guard around Hadlan.

Hadlan continued. "This operation" he stressed the word as if to correct the earler 'debacle' reference, "is of high strategic importance to our operation on this island, and the war in general. And you can wait outside." It was a dismissal if Anders had ever heard one.

As Anders stepped outside, the first thing he noticed was the smell of food. The food line was directly next to the officers' tent, and they had brought out a new jar of soup, heated on small magical fires beneath the pots. Anders involuntarily wandered over and claimed a spot in line while it was still short.

Five minutes later, he had his soup in a bowl. More like water and fruit mixed together, but it was edible. Anders ate it very, very slowly, draining every last bit of taste and nutrient before proceeding to the next bite. After all, this may be his last meal. On a battlefield, any meal may be your last.

His eyes wandered back up towards the sky. There was nothing there to see but clouds.

"Anders, get over here!" Anders gulped down the rest of the soup and proceeded towards the call.

An easel with the officer's tactical map had been set up in front of the tent. There were five privates other than Anders, standing around in a semicircle. Hadlan began the briefing.

"As you know, this city's strategic value is its mines, the only in the area under Numeni control. We have been trying to take this city for two weeks now, but they're dug in too well. Superior ground placement, as well as superior forces have enabled them to hold us off. The retaining wall along the town's railroad has been fortified to the point of impassibility." Hadlan jabbed at the map as he spoke. "Simply put, we don't have the numbers to engage them in a full fight and take the mine."

Hadlan began to pace in front of the map. "Command has decided to try another method. Captain Levine and the six of you will navigate through a weak area in the enemy line and to the mine entrance, avoiding engagement at any cost. On site you will rig the entrance and a good portion of the inner tunnel with ordinance, to ensure it cannot be redug. You will set off the charges will then rendezvous with a rearguard force here," -- more jabbing -- "and proceed back to base. Our timetable for this mission is less than two hours. Departure is at 0200 tonight, you should arrive back before 0400."

Hadlan started pointing at people. "Captain Levine will of course be in charge of this operation. Vickern, you're on demolitions again. Anders, you know the area so you'll be on point. The rest of you will be on rear guard."

Nobody spoke. Nobody needed to, they had all done this drill before. Hadlin took the silence as a cue to continue, this time in a lower tone.

"There's another reason why these mines need to be removed. Our intelligence reports indicate that the people of this town did not defect as we believed. It seems they have for the most part been impressed into Numenai service. Thus, by destroying the mine we'll also liberate the city, freeing them from impressed service in--"

Anders wouldn't stand for this. "Sir, that's not true. The people here --"

"Look, Private," Hadlan snapped. "This isn't by any means your call. Not even mine. This mine is vital to the Numeni war effort, and that makes its destruction vital to ours. Understood?"

Blood started to boil in Anders' veins. The people here didn't matter to Hadlan, they didn't matter to the men up top. Maybe the people here were forced to work the mine for the Numeni, but they would just as surely be forced to work it for the Machindo if they managed to capture it. The mine was the only thing these people had to look after themselves. Without the mines, no soldiers would come to their town, but neither would any food or money. It seemed the fate of these people to die, whether by sword or starvation. But Anders knew this was a fight he couldn't win.

"Yes, sir," Anders muttered.

"You set out in eight hours, I suggest you get some rest."

Hadlan ducked inside the tent, and seven remaining men proceeded to wherever it was they called a bed that night. Anders stared at the closed flap of the tent for a while, before turning on his heel and walking back to the barracks.

Anders woke himself from a deep sleep shortly before the task force set out. He gathered his rifle and equipment and proceeded to the rally point. Some of the men had already arrived. Anders waited quietly until the Captain gave the order to move out. Checking his compass, Anders took the lead and headed due west. It didn't take long before some conversation started. Anders couldn't quite make it out.

"... do you think it'll take ... mine?"

"I plan to use ... charges ... more for supports ..."

"And you ... blow yourself up?"

"... set with a two hour delay. ... back to base before ..."

"... poor mother ..."

A third soldier, closer to Anders. "Your poor mother's probably pawned your stuff for snuff by now."

"Shaddap, porky."

Levine quipped over his shoulder, "I expect this chatter will cease before we get close to enemy lines, which will be in how many minutes, Anders?"

"About ten."

Someone in the back: "Hey Anders, you was gettin pretty hot headed back there in front of Hadlan."

"Yeah, my thoughts on Hadlan are mostly unrepeatable."

Levine stopped in his tracks. "Anders, are we going to have an ongoing problem over this?"

"No."

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Anders turned around and met Levine's gaze. "No, sir."

Levine studied Anders for a good long minute. Neither man flinched, and none of the others dared to break the tension.

"I should hope not." Levine continued walking, the rest of the men followed suit.

It wasn't long before Anders gave the Captain the signal that they were approaching the tracks. The enemy would be in wait fortified over the retaining wall on the other side of the tracks. Crouched in the darkness just inside the treeline, Levine perused the cliff line looking for a weak point. Not finding any, he sent two men out to look for weaker spots. The runner who went south reported a weak section, and the team moved out. When they arrived, they saw what this man had called "weak."

This section of the wall was less like a wall and more like a cliff. It was carved directly out of a large hillside, angled at a steep vertical incline for almost ten meters. The retaining wall itself ceased about halfway up, giving way to a bare rock face. Surely enough however, the top of the wall was completely unfortified. No Machindo attacks had come through this section for good reason, it was impassable and impractical. Realiing this, the Numeni had spent their efforts of fortification elsewhere.

"This is it," Levine whispered. "Vickern, do you have any --"

The rope appeared in his hand. "I am always prepared, sir."

"Who here is a good climber?" Nobody raised his hand. "Anders, you just volunteered."

Anders sighed and clipped the rope to his belt. Looking down the track to see if anybody was approaching, he stepped out into the open. The moonlight was very dim, the two moons showing only a sliver of themselves to the world. Anders crossed the track easily, taking care not to stumble on any of the rails. He reached the wall, and looked back at the treeline. He could not see Levine or the others, but he knew he could be clearly seen himself. He had to be quick.

Slinging his rifle to his back, Anders put a foot on the wall. The wall was not built to repel enemy attacks, it was made with softly curving bricks, making it very easy to climb. Anders had no trouble scaling the five meters to the top of the wall. The rock face would be a different problem, being very uneven it would be difficult to find footholds and handholds in the dark. Still, there was only one way to go, and that was up.

The rock face proved a more difficult challenge, but eventually Anders was within reach of the top edge. He grabbed with both hands and pulled himself up, rolling into the grass on the top of the cliff. Success! His arms and legs burned, but there was more work to do. Anders looked around for a place to fasten the rope.

There was none. No trees, no structures, no roots. Just grass.

Anders peered over the ledge. He could see nothing below, but he knew his friends were just beyond the treeline, looking at him in the darkness, waiting for him to drop the rope. He could not yell to them. He had to think of something.

Anders needed some kind of spike or something, to plant the rope solidly to the ground. He began to go through his equipment, trying to find something that would be of use. Magazines, first aid kit, binoculars, compass, knife. Could the knife be used as a stake? No, the handle guard would make it too difficult to sufficiently bury. The only thing left was his entrenching tool, a little fold-out shovel. Anders developed a quick plan that he knew he would regret in the morning.

About five feet from the ledge, Anders dug two holes, about half a meter apart, and a hand's width deep. Sliding his boots into these holes, he wrapped the rope around himself twice and knotted it, and then threw the coil down the cliff face. It wasn't long before the rope went taught. Anders stifled a groan as the rope dug into his back and shoulders. He pulled on the rope with his arms, trying to shift some of the load from his back. The climber was mercifully quick, taking less than a minute to scale the cliff. Rolling onto the grass, the private took one look at Anders, and shook his head. Anders was about to get up and offer the rope to the man when it pulled tight again, another man coming up. The private fell into a prone position to look out for enemy patrols while Anders did his best to stifle his groans once more, thankful that nobody on the team was a big eater.

Another private arrived next, and then Vickern. Vickern was quick enough to pull the rope up too high for the next man, sliding the rope off Anders and onto himself. Vickern braced the next three men while Anders lay on the grass panting, his arms and legs feeling like cheese. Finally, all seven men were at the top of the cliff face. Anders got up and began to move down the hillside towards the line of lights that dotted the horizon.

The small mining town that hosted this battle, mostly unknown to the rest of the world, sat inconspicuously along a lonely stretch of rail between two large cities. Most people, during peactime, would come riding on a train car on its way to other locations, looking out the window at the town, but never boarding or leaving the train before it carried them on to their destination, far away from the dreary place. However, a little known fact Anders knew about this particular town is that the town of was actually really two towns. The people mostly lived near the railroad, in a town named Durin that had initally begun as a small stop at a fork on a railway. However, when valuable ores were discovered in the nearby mountain a couple decades before, a wealth of money was suddenly poured into the little town, and it exploded a hundredfold, virtually overnight. Most everybody lived near the railway, because that's where the action was. Money, entertainment, women, travel, and anything else a small towner could desire was all situated in this space. But a new, smaller town appeared outside the mine entrance. Halin was filled with warehouses and machinery, it was less of a town and more of a sprawling industrial complex built to handle the mass quantities of metal that was pulled out of the mine. The dust of the mine was always in the air, covering the small town with a perpetual fine layer of soot. Some of the more unfortunate families who could not afford to live in Durin lived in Halin instead, to save money and to be closer to their livelihood, but their lives and property were owned by the state-sanctioned bankers in Durin.

That was the way it was for the people of Halin. They lived their lives in the shadow of the splendors of a life they could never lead. The people in Durin may have been poor, but the people in Halin were poorer, and it was there where men toiled in the mines for a lifetime, owing their paychecks before they were even in hand. It was there where women worked their hands to their bones to make others rich, never reaping the reward of their hard day's work. And it was there where at the end of the day if one were quiet enough, one might hear from the neighbor a faint weeping and gnashing of teeth.

The team had been moving through a field of waist high grass for about twenty minutes, all the while the lights of the town growing steadily closer. The town looked much larger as it loomed in the distance, but quickly diminished in its apparent size as the team grew closer. Soon it was apparent that the entire town was no more than 200 meters across. The grass field ended abruptly a few meters before the first row of houses.

This place had clearly seen war. Anders did not remember when the fighting had reached here, but this war had been going on for a while. Perhaps some of the Machindo's recent mortar attacks had struck the city, or perhaps it had seen action is some earlier battle. Or maybe the town had grown old and been left to rot into itself. Whatever the case may be, many houses were collapsed, some the victims of fire. Most were empty, their inhabitants fled or killed. On occasion a body could be seen collapsed in the street. Whether the person was the victim of violence or neglect was indeterminable, but what was clear was that nobody cared enough about this town to clean up the mess.

Anders stopped and motioned for Levine to come closer. Anders explained their path in an almost nonexistant whisper.

"This side of the town is houses. The mine is on the far side, not far. We will fare better going through than going around, because there are many alleys and few lights. I'll lead the way."

Levine nodded. Anders took a deep breath, and then set off at a brisk pace towards the first row of houses, ducking into an alleyway upon reaching them.

Familiarity. Anders could not shake the feeling. These walls, the motted sky, the very dust in the air. Anders had not been able to shake the feeling since he arrived here two weeks ago, but here, standing this pitch black alleyway, he felt it the strongest. The emotion was almost oppressing. Anders knew that he could not stay long, or he would be overwhelmed. He motioned for the man behind him to follow, and then darted off into the darkness. Navigating almost by instinct, he worked his way through the tight passages, never losing line of sight with the man behind him, leading his team towards the mine, until he came to the the end of the alleyway.

Anders peered around the corner and out into the lonely street he had just found. A single crooked streetlight hummed softly, circled by insects high above the road. The road was not wide, but it was relatively well lit. Even so, Anders knew it would be safe. Nobody was awake. Nobody was ever awake at this hour. Nothing ever changed in this town. Anders hustled across the opening. He was three steps to safety in the darkness on the other side of the street when he froze, staring at the door of the house he was next to. On the door were three letters, "JDA" which had been scratched out by a piece of charcoal, and just below, bolted to the door, was a large plaque bearing the symbol of the Numeni faith.

Anders could not move. He stared at the door. It was closed. The house was empty. The Numeni had used this building in the past as some kind of command center, but were now clearly long gone. The reason for that was clear, as part of the roof appeared to be caved in. The building had been struck by some kind of blast, and had been abandoned. A fire had hollowed out the rooms, the windows were broken, and a rectangle in front of the door showing the spot from where the welcome mat had been stolen. But still all Anders could do was stare.

An arm from behind jerked Anders the last three steps into the alleyway. It was Levine. He pulled Anders ear close and whispered hoarsely, "Anders you have got to snap out of this. Get going."

Anders put his hand on his cheek. His face was wet. Wiping it dry with his wrist he proceeded down into the alley, putting what he had just seen out of his mind.

Anders worked his way through more back alleys, past mills and storehouses and a multitude of other buildings he would never understand until he arrived at what he was looking for: a large black gaping maw set into the side of the mountain.

The team moved silently into the mine shaft. The Numeni, not expecting this sort of operation, had left it completely unguarded. Two privates remained on watch in the shadows near the entrance, and the remaining five crept forwrad into the darkness.

It was completely black, too black to see anything. The men, silently cursing their oversight not to bring night-vision gear, proceded forward by holding the hand of the man in front of them. Anders, in the front, felt the way with his feet before taking a step. Every sound in the place was maginified by echoes. It ometimes felt as if the entire structure might callapse on them. The progress was slow, but eventually Anders felt a tap on his shoulder. Vickern, behind, had determined this an appropriate depth to set the charges.

Vickern did not need any light to do his work. He had done it many times before, and the charges had been configured prior to leaving the base. He dropped one charge on each wall of the shaft, and then pointed Anders back towards the entrance. A faint flickering light could be seen from the direction of the mine's entrance, as if to beckon them forward to egress from the shaft. It grew steadily brighter as they progressed forward.

The hand on Anders' shoulder was removed. Anders could hear Vickern scuttle to the opposite side of the shaft. Confused, Anders turned around, but could see nothing. He heard two, or maybe three more men join Vickern on the opposite side. Anders turned around again, looking towards the shaft entrance. The light was brighter now, and seemed to rock back and forth. Anders understood now. The lights were not from the tunnel entrance, the lights were torches. Somebody was coming.

Anders crouched to the floor, bringing his rifle up to bear, pointing it at the lights, which were drawing closer. Soon they could be heard, running through the tunnel, now almost directly upon them. The lights quickly came around the corner, and Levine's team opened fire.

The shaft quickly descended into chaos. Anders could not hear the discharge of his own weapon. But none of this worried him, because he was now running on instinct. Training and experience took over as Anders calmly picked and neutralized his targets, unconcerned with the incoming bullets and spells of magic that seemed to be surrounding him. The torch lights fell one by one to the floor, until finally there was nothing but blackness.

Anders could feel nothing but pain. Searing, indescribable pain. The dull pain in his neck told him that something must have happened to his head. His right leg burned with a fire that he had never felt before. Anders opened his eyes, but it was too dark to see. That, and the dirt in his hand told him that he was still in the mine shaft.

But that wasn't important. The pain. He had to find some way to stop the pain. He fumbled through his pockets looking for his first aid kit, finally finding and opening it. It burst open, spilling its conents all around. Anders searched with his hand for what he was looking for, a small dose of autoinjecting painkiller. Anders removed the caps and jabbed it into his leg. It did not take long for the drugs to take effect, numbing the pain to a bearable state.

Anders gasped for air, trying to calm himself down. He knew he could not walk. Whatever happened to his leg ... he didn't want to think about it. He had to find a way out, to seek medical attention. He knew the direction of the entrance from the slope of the ground. Anders braced his arms and began to pull himself along the dirt.

"Hello?"

It took Anders a moment to realize that the voice was not his.

"Who is that? Vickern? Levine?"

"Oh, thank the Archon, there's someone here! It's me, it's Sarn." Then the man screamed.

Anders did not know everybody who was on the team, but the name and the voice sounded familiar.

"Are you hurt, Sarn?"

"Yeah... I'm shot. I can't move."

"OK hold on Sarn I'll be right there. Keep talking so I can find you."

Sarn didn't talk so much as moan, but Anders could hear him well enough. Grabbing a couple more autoinjectors, he crawled towards the sound until finally he put a hand on the man's leg. Sarn let out a howl.

"Hold on Sarn, I've got something for ya. Hold on a second." Anders pulled out another autoinjector, pulled the caps off and stuck it into Sarn's leg.

Sarn started flailing about. "What was that? What was it? What'd you do to me?"

"Relax Sarn, it was a painkiller. Just a painkiller. You're going to be ok, so just relax." Sarn relaxed. "How do you feel?"

Sarn stumbled for a moment with the word. "B... better."

"OK Sarn we have to figure out a way to get out of here. The exit is that way but neither of us can walk. Wait... what time is it?" Anders realized that the charges were on a time delay, and he did not know how long he had been passed out. "Do you know what time it is?"

"No... but I've been alone here for a couple hours. Why is it so important?"

"Because the charges. I have a watch, but I don't have a light." Levine had determined that lights were a risk ordered everyone to leave them behind.

"Charges?"

"Yeah, I need to find a light."

"Wait a minute, I have a light."

"You do?" The man had disobeyed a direct order bringing lights, but Anders didn't really care about that right now. He brought his hand up to his face. "OK, light it."

Anders heard the sound of a match being struck, and then he could see his watch. It was currently 0436. That was bad, he had been passed out for nearly two hours. He then looked over at Sarn.

Anders didn't recognize Sarn. In fact, Anders had never seen Sarn before in his life. But what Anders noticed more about Sarn was not his face, but the gold insignia on his uniform. A Numeni uniform. The light went out.

Nobody spoke. Anders tried to remember where his knife was. It was on his belt. He reached his hand down and unclipped it.

"Don't kill me." Sarn's voice echoed through the shaft. The effect made it sound even more pitiful than it already was. "I don't want to die."

Anders' mind was racing. How much time had the man said he was going to set the delays? Was it one hour or two? No, it couldn't be one hour, because then Anders would be dead already. The charges were laid at about 0245, or maybe 0300. That meant the charges were due to go off any time now. Neither of them could walk.

"I won't kill you."

Anders tried to think of a way out. He didn't have very long. Neither side was known to take prisoners, so calling for help would most likely get him killed.

"What's your name?"

Anders was surprised by the question. "My name is Anders."

"No. Your first name."

Anders hadn't thought about that for a while. Ever since he'd joined the resistance, he had been referred to only by Anders, his family name. "It's James. James Anders."

"My name is Peter."

"Hello, Peter." Anders felt kind of silly.

"What was all that about charges, James?"

Anders paused for a second, considering his answer. "Nothing, Peter."

"Liar. You came to blow up the mine."

Anders was silent.

"When is it going to happen?"

Anders opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He didn't know how to tell this man what was going to happen.

"When, James?"

"Any time now."

Anders could hear Peter start to cry. He listened to the sobbing in silence. He felt responsible.

"Do you know what you've done?" The man spat out the words. "Do you know what you've done?"

Anders did not answer.

"The people here will die, James."

Anders did not argue. He knew it was true.

"You don't even know these people. And you've killed them."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. You've killed them."

"I do know these people."

Anders could feel Sarn's eyes on him in the darkness. "You do?"

"I lived here until I was 22 years old."

"What? Then... why?"

"I had a job to do." Anders knew there was more to it than that, but the truth was much more complicated.

Sarn exhaled. It seemed he'd given up. "We're going to die here."

"Yes."

Anders tried to think of what the real reason was.

He hated his life in Halin. There is nothing worse than being poor. He hated seeing his parents work so hard and still having nothing. He took the first opportunity to leave when his friends told him of a resistance cell in Durin. With a rifle in his hand, on a battlefield with his peers, he felt part of a larger cause. He would never go back.

But lying there on the mine shaft floor, Anders realized that he didn't care about the Machindo philosophy. He didn't think it mattered much what the Archon said either. All he wanted was to be able to live without being hungry all the time. All he wanted was to be able to see the sun once in a while.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For this war. I don't really believe in the cause. I joined the resistance to get away from this town."

"I don't really believe in the cause either. I was drafted."

"What do you know."

"Yeah."

Anders considered trying to find and diffuse the charges. He might be able to do it, but he would more likely set them off in the process. Besides... right now all he wanted to do was relax. Maybe he deserved this fate.

They didn't have to wait long. It happened very fast. First there was the light, then the sound, then the shock, and then nothing.