Prologue

East Coast Kanata: 2012

The MacMullin clan, strongest clan on the east coast, allied by blood into every major clan, raised some of the fiercest warriors and deadliest sharpshooters. Their militia had yet to be beaten, and their elite force, had yet to lose a man in combat, led by the youngest generation of MacMullin, they could mount a surgical strike within a matter of hours, they helped bring the east coast clans together, and create their capitol, Halifax, placed at the end of a bay, Halifax was the perfect haven for traders and politics. The city protected by a series of Military Citadels, Garrisons, with an unlimited amount of steel and oil production, ships were built and an defense force raised, the north island seven clans militias were now considered obsolete and ineffective. However, the leadership of the seven clans was crucial to the construction of this new country.

We returned to our homelands, up in the High Lands of the Cape. Our island capitol Louisburg shrouded in the heavy mist, as it did on often overcast day. Quiet, isolated, and yet the docks were busy with fisherman and traders. My militia, contained five shooters, from five different clans, William Connor, McLaren Clan, the closest clan of the seven, Brandon, Harvey clan, from the western highlands, Troy, Belsher clan, southern highlands, and Taylor, Jacobsen clan, the inlands, Brunswick province.

We were always greeted with cheering, whenever the Raptor APV rolled into town, there was one occasion where confetti was thrown out windows, we were local hero's why, we never really asked. Our black digital uniforms and black berets made us distinct able from the rest of the militia. We wore them whenever we were out on the market.

When we parked at the local pub, my Nan, (the woman who helped raise me when my parents were busy) rushed out, speaking Gaelic; she uttered something about a ship. Then dragged me in, a beautiful young lady was sitting alone, I had never seen her before, I walked over to her, "You come her often miss?"

"No, I arrived today," her accent was different, almost Usian,

"Where are you from?" I asked,

"Danes, I'm the ambassador's daughter,"

"Ah, I'm the Chieftain's grandson if that means anything,"

"Look soldier, I'm not interested," she turned and started to leave,

"Ma'am, if it's anything to you, I just wanted to talk, it's not very often we get foreigners in Louisburg,"

She looked at the rank patch on the collar of my jacket, "Well Sergeant, I wouldn't want to be another one of your conquests,"

"Ouch, that one hurt…" I paused and looked over at the far side of the hall, a few of the local women were pointing and smiling at me, daring each other to go up, "With all due respect, I do not have conquests,"

"Hard to believe a good looking warrior like you doesn't have conquests,"

"Nah, I don't"

"Then what do you have Sergeant?"

"Honor, Integrity, Passion,"

"Very well then soldier, tomorrow night, meet me at the air strip, I'm sure you can find the hangers,"

"I'll see you at seven then,"

I walked over to the boys, "That my friend, was a classic reason why you are the team leader," McLaren chuckled,

"Maybe I ought to teach you take some initiative Will, that lady over there has had her eye on you since we walked in, get to it."

I watched as McLaren walked over, I looked at the boys; Belsher was taking a sip of lager, chuckling quietly to himself. Will was doing well for his first time out, he got her laughing and smiling, then whispering in his ear, the boy worked and succeeded fast. She led him out, he gave us a smile and a thumb up just as they went through the door, I looked a Belsher, he had his girl, a Sopian he had been with since we were kids. Hell, everything we had done for the past since we were sixteen, how much we were gone, I was surprised the relationship lasted, I wasn't one for relationships anymore, after a Huston damaged relationships between our clan and their empire in the far south, by breaking fidelity in the relationship. Caused a war, me a lot of good friends, and half of a special ops platoon; now it was just the five of us.

Taylor, he an outcast, been around two years, joined us late, taken in like family to the clan, one bad ass with a gun. He had his woman at home, he had a drink, then bugged out home, he bumped into my out-law uncle on the way out,

"Heard your boys were in town for the weekend,"

"Something like that." I sipped my drink.

"You see that pretty little thing walking out about five minutes ago,"

"Yeah, what's it to you chief,"

"Ambassador's daughters, new alliance in the far east, guess who's primed and center at the negotiations,"

"Since when are you in the loop old man?"

"Since when aren't," he paused, "You're the offering, Danes wanted their ambassadors daughter to have a relationship with the son of the chief,"

"Great," I sighed,

"Why, what you do now?"

"He's got a date with the ambassadors daughter, and he didn't even know about the negotiations,"

"Could have been a politician," I smiled, finishing my drink.

The Next Morning: 0800:

I was outside the town hall, aviators and grey digital combat uniform, our militia's non-combat uniform. The sun was finally out, my aviation sunglasses on. I was leaning on the stair railing. Gazing out across the harbor, I could hear someone gently stepping down the stone steps. "You don't do town meetings Sergeant?"

"Nah, Troy Belsher is our boardroom guy, I can't stand the squabble, besides, bringing out a forty five in clan to clan negotiations that got a little heated."

"How'd they get heated?"

"My last supposed conquest, she wasn't faithful, she was a part of an alliance we were establishing with a clan in the far south."

"How'd it turn out?"

I didn't answer, nearly an entire platoon of our militia force, my platoon, ten dead, because our leaders wanted revenge. She looked at my left arm, my sleeve was rolled up past my elbow,

"What are those words on your arm?"

"The faces that haunt me at night, the ten of my boys who are buried fifteen hundred clicks from here."

She looked at me, gazing at the tattooed names that were in eye sight, "McLaren? Isn't that your friend who walked in that bar,"

"His little brother, Hunter,"

"You have a conscience, something the warriors back home don't have,"

"Yeah, the choice of relationships is hard,"

"Having relationships arranged you mean?" she kissed me on the cheek, "but this, my being with you is my choice,"