New Orleans, Louisiana, the United States of America

September 30th, 1834

Colonel Robert E. Lee and his men marched through the streets while thousands of American soldiers busied themselves cleaning and rebuilding the ruined city of New Orleans. While the majority of the United States Army was being tasked with restoring some semblance of order across the South, Colonel Lee and his men were being assigned to the west to combat the final bastion of hostile powers on the North American continent. Currently, his unit was heading west to Clarkston in order to catch a train heading to Austin. Once they were in the southern Texan city, they planned to catch a boat to Costa Rica, walk across the narrow Central American province, and then hitch a ride on a boat to California. While the Rangers were moving through the city, Colonel Lee spotted a familiar-looking man setting up telegraph poles with a number of engineers and walked over to him with a bright smile, "Lincoln!"

"Good to see you, Major!" Lincoln answered as he turned around and saluted the officer.

"It's colonel now," The CO of the Rangers said as he lightly tapped the Army Engineer's shoulders, "Still fixing telegraph poles?"

"Not quite, sir. I was promoted to sergeant after the Battle of Ashville and I've been overseeing the others set up the lines instead of doing it myself."

"Certainly better than doing it yourself, no?"

Sergeant Lincoln chuckled, "Aye, sir. Are you heading off somewhere?"

"The brass wants me out west with my men. Our Chinese boys in green have been steadily holding the enemy back, but the enemy hasn't been defeated quite yet."

"Well, best of luck to you then, sir. I'll be here in Louisiana for a few months, helping repair the infrastructure in the state," Lincoln peeked behind Colonel Lee's shoulders and looked around, "Where is Captain Kemarax? I haven't seen him for some time as well."

The Virginian looked down at the ground and took off his hat, "He is... no longer with us."

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"Oh."

"He died during the battle for New Orleans. He was one of the final casualties."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"No need. Now if you'll excuse me."

Colonel Lee gave an awkward salute and left the engineer behind. The facial expression of the Rangers darkened when they heard Captain Kemarax's name, but they continued their journey. Before they left the city, the Rangers stopped at a makeshift graveyard with thousands of coffins that were awaiting transport. The group made their way to the coffin marked "Captain Kemarax, Army, Missouri Tribe, Missouri." They weren't the only ones inside the graveyard; there were hundreds of other soldiers paying their respects to the fallen. Instead of giving a moving speech, Colonel Lee looked at the coffin containing the dead body of his friend and comrade in silence, contemplating all the time they spent together before entering New Orleans. One by one, the members of the Rangers Battalion touched Kemarax's coffin, muttered a few words, and walked outside of the graveyard. Even as the final Ranger finished up his goodbyes, Colonel Lee remained next to the coffin with a mixed expression on his face.

"One of your friends?"

The colonel turned to see an Asian soldier wearing the uniform of the Special Forces Gurkha Battalion. In response to the question, the Army officer nodded his head wordlessly and continued to stare at the coffin.

"It's the same with me," The Gurkha said as he gestured to a nearby coffin marked, Sergeant Ajit Gartaulal, Special Forces Gurkha Battalion, Nepal, North Carolina.

"How did he perish?"

"A mission that went wrong. My team was being transported on one of the torpedo boats when we came under fire from a pair of British frigates that happened to be evacuating nearby. Our boat managed to sink one with a pair of those Olson Torpedoes, but the other frigate managed to sink us with its cannons. I was one of the few survivors of the incident. The captain of the boat, some Irish lad from the Foreign Legion named Kennedy, dragged me by the neck and onto the shore. Saved six more lives after that."

"My condolences."

"The same goes for you," The Asian soldier saluted, "Sergeant Chen You, Special Forces Gurkha Battalion, Delta Company."

"Colonel Robert E. Lee, Commanding Officer of the Rangers Battalion."

"I'm guessing you're being sent somewhere to finish up this war?"

"California."

"Cuba," Sergeant You replied, "At least you don't have to deal with the jungle. I've been living in the jungle for the past year and let me tell you, it gets really tiring after a while. I probably have a higher chance of dying from alligators or some disease than enemy soldiers."

Colonel Lee managed to crack a small smile, "Let's hope that we both survive this war without dying."

"The war's nearly done anyway. Heard the Navy is going to stick it to the Redcoats directly. I hope they bash a few skulls in..."