[ WP ] It is , or was , the Last War . Tell the story of the final battle from the petspective of a soldier , and a historian .

``... it was this final battle that ended the war,'' the professor continued, `` The Martian Navy had at this time been entirely surrounded, and the 47th Militia pressed forwards, eventually trapping them. Captain Bridget McKeown led the final mission on that day, and found herself face to face with the enemy. Despite the mounting odds against them, they still attempted to fight back, and the Militia were forced to retaliate. Having now suffered heavy losses, the Navy surrendered, and the battle was won. 
 
 The old woman turned the screen off with an utterance of disgust. *Fuck you, * she thought to herself. It was strange how cold and clinical those words were, conveying nothing of the scene that day. 
 
 She sat back in her chair and cast her mind back. It was startling how quickly the images came crashing into her, a reminder of that final day. 
 
 A gun in her hands, the cold metal pressed against the gloves of her armour. A dull pain throbbed in her left shoulder, the mark of some lucky sniper. Somewhere nearby, an explosion shuddered through the ground, causing her bones to rattle and a fresh splash of pain to pound into her arm. 
 
 She was vaguely aware of a figure approaching her. Still reeling from the explosion that had knocked her off her feet, she feared an attack, and swung her still usable hand upwards and squeezed the trigger. Flesh and bone exploded into the air in a grim red fountain, and it was only after the body slumped to the floor that she recognised the armour of one of her own soldiers. A medic. 
 
 *Fuckfuckfuck, * she muttered under her breath, and looked around quickly, in an attempt to see where the sudden ambush had come from. To her left, somewhere at the edge of peripheral vision of her shattered eye, another explosion sent bodies twirling through the air, soldiers entwined in a grim ballet. 
 
 Bursts of energy whizzed past her head, and she turned on her heel and ran. She ran away from the fire, and the death, and did n't turn back until she found a small doorway, the frame shattered by gunfire. 
 
 What was she doing? Her men needed her. They needed to survive this. Dragging the gun painfully across the floor, she brought the sights up to pinpoint the nearest soldier, and squeezed the trigger again. The target tracking confirmed a hit, and automatically assigned the next. 
 
 *They're just targets, * she told herself, firing off another volley of shots. The thick smoke plume from over the ridge still churned heartily into the sky, casting a dark shadow over the ground, the air filling with dust. She needed to get her men there before the enemy could reach them. 
 
 As she fired more shots, the residual gunfire began to die down, and a shout of `` retreat'' sounded across the narrow canyon they had been in. Everywhere, enemy soldiers moved through the valley, dragging injured friends as quickly as they dared, giving no heed to their cries for mercy. 
 
 `` Follow them!'' she found herself shouting. A few heads turned, faces she recognised giving a nod in confirmation, and her own squad began to fire upon the enemy soldiers, cutting down those who had been too slow. 
 
 She forced herself to move, following the rest of her men, chasing their prey. Over the next ridge, the crumpled shape of the *Icarus* lay smoking, a ruin in a crater. In the side that had been torn open, soldiers rushed to fill the gaps; to get inside the ship. 
 
 She followed. 
 
 She was one of the first to reach the doorway, but remained outside, fearing a trap. She ordered her men to wait, and peeked cautiously around the sheared edges of the metal. Nothing stirred within. 
 
 She exchanged a glance with her XO and he shrugged in return. 
 
 `` Maybe they've finally given up,'' he offered. She shook her head slightly. 
 
 `` I do n't think so,'' she replied, `` Move in.'' 
 
 The squad entered the ship a few at a time. The ceiling was low, the corridor they were now in became incredibly claustrophobic. Still there was no sign of movement inside the ship. The motion trackers gave nothing away. 
 
 A thought nagged at the back of her mind. She had lost too many people today. She wanted to get back at them. She turned to her squad and issued a final order. 
 
 `` Shoot on sight,'' she ordered. Her XO raised an eyebrow, but chose not to question her. the squad moved through the ship, constantly checking for anything. 
 
 Suddenly, the next room showed multiple people, apparently waiting for an ambush. Well, she would n't give them the satisfaction. The squad waited either side of the next door, which was currently sealed. 
 
 `` Ready?'' she asked, to nobody in particular. The men nodded in reply, and the door was slid open, just a fraction. She gripped the bombs strapped to her hips, and threw three in under the gap for good measure, and slammed the door closed. As it closed, she heard muffled screams from within as the bastards realised this was the end. She tried to shut out the thought of the people inside, and the door bulged outwards slightly as the shockwave shuddered through the interior. 
 
 `` Okay, go!'' she shouted, and the door was opened again. Inside, dead bodies and *pieces* of dead bodies littered the floor. Near the back of the room, a few people had survived, but had been badly injured. Their weak cries filled the air, and with a jolt she recognised them as civilians, as a few of the soldiers who had managed to survive crawled over the dead to hug the bodies of those around them, as their cries of pain turned to those of grief. The man nearest looked up at her with tears in his eyes, and opened his mouth a small fraction. 
 
 `` We surrender,'' he whispered. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 She had never been able to shut those screams out of her brain, even after seventeen years. She had been decorated for leading the battle, although her brain screamed at her that it was wrong. She was no hero. 
 
 `` History is written by the winners,'' she said, as she placed the barrel of the gun into her mouth and squeezed the trigger. 
 

