"One hundred and ninety three years," the section Sergeant smiled into the sighting aperture of the scope while not looking away, "We spent turning those bastards around, pushing them back, consolidating and securing our border. And today, Sir, your grand-pappy, rest his soul, gets to smile down from the great feasting hall in the sky because his grandson marked the headquarters targets for the bombardment force."
"After two hundred years we are back to our original borders and finally turning all this around..." Three flashes of lightning stabbed into the sky from the next ridge-line over, separated by a half second each. "Uh-oh, not good." The sound of a giant hammer landing on plate steel echoed across the valley, making it painful to hear. "Not good at all!" Alcander was trying
