The war-party’s march lasted far longer than Zan expected. It made him think why Colonel Winters had stopped the column so early in their trek to lecture them on flag use. Regardless, only one other break under their belt by the time they arrived at the bridge, the Colonel ordered Zan, Jiehong, and their small detachment of troops to ride ahead. Their mission would be to secure the bridge ahead of the main column. This advance ride demanded they ride without the third break everyone else got. It seemed unfair to Zan but what could he do about it?

With him and Jiehong were three soldiers. Zan did not catch their names. As they refused to give the boys their names. Zan was about to let it pass before he remembered Winters’s words of this mission being a test. “Our objective is down there, and I am your commander, like it or not!” Zan said, his voice stern. “You WILL give me your names or so help me!”

The three soldiers looked at Zan curiously, then said, “My name is Jim. His is Pit. He is Tim.”

“Jim, Pit, and Tim,” Zan said, pointing to the men in order as he said their names. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, we are not here on a luxury visit. So we will have to get to know each other on the battlefield. Let’s split up and survey the place.”

Finally, off his bike and his pounding legs, it felt good to be walking again. Zan had everyone, including himself and Jiehong, split off to survey a different section of the bridge. The bridge was not large, though, so the recon was mostly a formality.

Yet with his squad members split in several directions, it did demand Zan use the flags. Different colored flags meant different commands long distance. Looking at the flags, he scrambled to remember all their meanings. Yellow meant… regroup?

Only one way to find out: Zan pulled out the yellow flag and waved it.

Looking around, he saw belated responses once everyone had time to scout.

Yellow flags from his companions went back up. What did that mean? Zan grew frustrated; why couldn’t he remember any of the flag crap? Just when he thought he was a buffoon, the squad returned.

“So, what did we see?” Zan asked. “I’ll go first. I—”

Pit interrupted. “Excuse me, sir. Before we go into the results of our survey, I need to correct your flag use: yellow flags are for caution. Not regroupment.”

“Understood, Pit. I will remember for next time. Purely for transparency reasons, I would like to say I only had one tutorial lesson from Colonel Winters. That was nearly a day ago, by my estimation. The riding is blurring my sense of time. There will be a learning curve for us.”

The soldiers nodded along. Zan thought they were being sarcastic, but that was only his own insecurities projecting themselves.

The interruption ended, Zan shared his observations: “Lightly defended. Though I see some troop carriers, I think? I could not get a close look at them.”

The other troops shared their reports. Their reports were much the same as his and Jiehong’s, as the bridge was not so large as to hold many surprises. Once again, Zan wondered why the Colonel would have them secure this bridge by themselves when the main group could simply ride roughshod through the bridge, scurrying the Expanse forces with nary a trifle. ‘Tests,’ he mused. That was what it was, he reminded himself.

“Okay. So, with this information in mind. I will lead—”

Again, a soldier interrupted Zan.

This time Jim interrupted and said, “As an additional point of correction, sir. Commanders in the royal army typical take part in combat only indirectly, through the ordering of troops. If they fight, it is from a distance.”

This irritated Zan. Both the interruption and the revelation of how commanders did not take a direct part in battle. Which seemed counter-productive on several levels.

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“Thank you, Jim… I will lead from the back, then. Jiehong, lead the assault alongside Tim. We will move in from under the bridge first, on the maintenance walkways beneath the bridge. Then we will rise and secure the bridge. Questions?”

Time said, “And you, commander-in-training, will lead from the embankment, correct?”

Zan rolled his eyes but said, “Yes. I will lead from the embankment. As is expected or royal army commanders-in-training…”

Looking over the field from his nest upon a hill, Zan surveyed the battle as he did nothing. Literally, nothing.

What Winters had given him as far as ‘commander gear’ went was several flags, a pair of binoculars — which he refused as he had his own — and a bullhorn, an overly large cone which amplified his voice. How did he command the battle? Primitively. By observing his men as they pushed ahead then using the cone to shout commands. Even with the flags providing additional command information, flags which he hardly knew, the battle flow left much to be desired.

Also to be desired was Zan’s struggle as a commander.

He did not think himself bad, but several times already Zan had incorrectly used the battle flags to mean things which they were not; red did not mean ‘advance,’ as he thought, just as ‘blue’ did not mean retreat. Not like the flags truly mattered as the soldiers ‘loaned’ out to him by the Colonel hardly looked back to take commands from him. The entire situation was frustrating. Truly, flags aside, Zan knew he would learn them eventually, so that was not what was upsetting to him. What he found so distressing was how the conduction of the fight; waging battles this way was criminally inefficient.

In truth, they already won the battle.

Jiehong led the troops well. He was a natural leader, despite his age. Plus, with his Order weapons and gear, plus those of the professional soldiers at his back, the enemy before them melted. Whatever this bridge was, it clearly was of no high strategic importance, hence why the Colonel gave it to them as their testing ground.

By the end of the engagement, Zan longed for this battle to be waged on his terms, as a commander with technology so sufficiently advanced as to be magical. Which really only reinforced the actually magical equipment, but that was beside the point…

Yet he could not merely hand out the Order’s technology to anyone. From his speaking with the Wardens, the impression he received was they had to be at the very minimum, allied to his cause; which could imply a large spread, right? But people were stubborn, as Zan saw with Jiehong and the rebels or Whiskey and the loyalists. How many people who were outside the Order would willingly subordinate themselves to him and his goals?

“Zan!” one soldier said. Zan forgot his name as he wore his full armor, thus obscuring his identity. The battle was over. They captured the bridge.

“Yes?” Zan said, as professionally as possible.

“Not so bad. For your first time.” The soldier removed his helmet, revealing Tim.

“Really? Even after all my mistakes with the flags?” Zan said.

“Yeah… the flags are imprecise. After a few engagements, you will get used to them. Everyone has some trouble with them at first.”

Tim’s words surprised Zan. He shook the soldier’s hand and said, “Thank you, soldier. That means a lot. I thought I did horribly.”

“Nonsense. Lean into the learning curve. Do that and you will thrive. Or at least survive. And in war, that is the important bit, ain’t it?”

Zan nodded along and put on his best ‘adult’ pose. His face was stoic, but real. Or so he wished, it seemed.

With the bridge secured and no enemy counterattack on the horizon, they waited for the Colonel and company to arrive. It made a great moment for small talk.

“So… what were you boys before the war?” Pit asked awkwardly.

The question caught Zan off guard, though why it did? He did not know; everyone here was soldiers and soldiers fought to return to peacetime.

“Before? We were just kids… not much else to say. His family is here on a peace mission? Doesn’t have much to do with the war, though,” Zan replied.

The soldiers looked oddly at Jiehong who did not meet their gaze.

“How long you’ve lived here?” Jim asked Jiehong.

“All my life, sir,” Jiehong replied.

“Good man…”

“What did your parents do on their goodwill mission?” Tim asked, joining in on the conversation.

“They were village dwellers. They helped rural communities with miscellaneous tasks and obstacles. Anything that needed doing, really.”

“Like the slaves of old… not that you are a slave. A black mark on our early history, of course…!”

“Of course…”

Once Jiehong replied, the conversation died. Zan was again confused. Did he miss something? Did someone say something he missed?

Like a savior from the heavens, Winters and his crew came tumbling in to rescue Zan and Jiehong from awkward small talk with men several generations above them.

“The bridge is secured. Good job, men,” Winters said, then moved with his horse.

‘No time for small talk, then,’ Zan muttered to himself as he watched the Colonel move across the bridge with the soldiers who fought alongside them.

Readying their bikes, Zan asked Jiehong what ‘that’ was all about with the soldiers.

Jiehong groaned. The topic was unpleasant to him, Zan guessed of the situation. “It is just the old guard refusing to let the past go. Now, let’s drop it.”

Rushing off himself, Jiehong hauled himself well to catch up to Winters.

Nothing else to do, Zan followed.