The soldiers marching down the ruined streets could all but sense the lost life it had once held. Beautiful concrete violated by vicious craters and impacts from projectiles. Trees used as cover shot up and burned. Bodies, shrapnel, and ruined tanks invading the sacred beautify of a once peaceful area.

Watchful eyes scanned the ruined buildings and destroyed landscape, and a pair fell upon a book lying just ahead of a small girl.

Gently, the hand of Ellanines Ordelia reached down and gently lifted the book from dirt and cracked cement of what had once been a sidewalk. Her eyes cascaded down to the girl who had once held it.

Her red-stained clothes, the metal in her back, and the frozen expression of panic mixed with the charred black ground behind her told Nines exactly what had happened. She pictured the scene playing back in her mind.

The attack had caught her and her family off guard, it had caught everyone off guard. The local garrison hastily led for an evacuation, but the civilians got mixed in with the soldiers guiding them out of the city, and carelessly a firefight ensued. Soldiers took a stand, and civilians fled for cover. Many saw the T-27 MBT and believed it would ensure their safety. Why wouldn’t it? The armored tank provided cover, security, it was an invincible tool of war. Some took cover near it, some subconsciously drew to it.

As they fled, however, the tank’s mortality proved itself. A heavy shell smashed into it, dealing some form of critical damage that splintered the armor and ended its career. The shrapnel pierced many who survived the initial blast of the tank, including the poor girl.

“Nines. Something up?” A mature yet young voice asked. The unit paused, glancing back at the halted Shocktrooper. 

“No, no it’s nothing. Just… remorse, you could say. Not everyone can survive a conflict, doesn’t mean it’s any less sad.” She answered, brushing a hand against the book to chase the filth off its cover. Faded and worn,  the word “diary” was engraved on its worn surface.

Nines began to move forward. One of her allies patted her shoulder and followed as the group began moving again. Nines slowly and carefully opened the front page. It had certainly seen better days, its pages now worn and stiff, threatening to crumble at the slightest touch. The words faded, but still barely readable, Nines began to perceive of its contents.

Rohava 1st, 4092 C.L.

Big bro got transferred to some other planet again. I swear he’s been all over the galaxy at this point except for home! I hope he’s having fun wherever he is at least, and he’d better keep remembering to write to me!