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It was a normal day. Well, if you consider a normal day waking up in a muddy trench where you've been sitting the same position for more than twenty-four hours, with a gun in your hands and bloody gashes on your arms and legs, the disguisting, red stuff sticking onto your sweating skin and rotting there... That was life in war. These were the some of the hardest days anyone could face. The team wasn't up in those fancy helicopters, bombing from the air. These men weren't in radio towers shouting commands while sipping coffee. They were just pawns. They were just pawns, but by God, they were strong pawns. They stuck together. They helped each other survive, and Taz was their leader.

Taz. Short black hair. Star tattoo on the back of her neck. Walked around bodies, bones, and broken guns in her bare feet. Yup, if there was a tomboy, it was her. She was probably the best soldier there, she didn't have anything to lose that she really remembered. She didn't remember much anymore. Life was a blur. But she protected her amigos in the trenches more than she protected herself, that was for sure. Taz was Taz, and there was nothing more to it.

Let's get back to our story. It was a normal day, at least, for her. The enemy side - she didn't really remember what they were called - were planning to shoot down some particularly bad missles at them today. "Missles" was the nickname for the series of enemy gunmen that would dare to come over to the trenches and try to massacre them. Taz picked up her gun, swinging it over her shoulder. She trudged over to her fellow soldiers and took a breath. "Amigos, today we fight. Today we fight just like any other day. Another batch of soldiers are coming in a few days and we can all go back home. So hang in there. I believe in my compadres! Today we will take those missles and eat them like tortillas!" This provoked a few laughs and nods. Her team was ready.

Taz took the lead. They advanced along the trench, shooting up at men in black. Killing. Not caring. Just moving on. Pushing on for the survival of the team. Pushing on to not lose themselves to the war and to the destruction. The young woman looked ahead. It was almost over, the end of the trench was near and they had almost won for today. Almost. It was that precise moment, that moment where she'd lost her guard for a brief fraction of a second, that it hit her. A bullet in the back of her head. She whimpered, the first sign of weakness she'd shown in an awfully long while. The soldier fell to her knees, holding her head in pain. One of her fellow men turned around, shouting at her, pulling her. Taz was someone no one wanted to lose. They dragged her body to the edge of the trench, where they were safe. But just them. Not her. She wasn't safe. The bullet had lodged itself deep in her skull. The world was fuzzy. Her head was spinning.. blood was everywhere. Well, that wasn't saying much, blood was always everywhere. But this was fresh blood, not the blood that caked onto your skin.

"Taz is down," was the last thing she heard before her world spiraled into blackness.

The next thing she could remember was being carried onto - what were those things called agani? - a helicopter. There were men, not her amigos, men in white uniforms that crinkled their noses at the smell of the blood and the smell of the trench, whose eyes widened in horror at the state of the marines. Whimps, Taz thought. She was put in a seat by the window and the door slammed shut. The engine powered up. It was only a few more seconds before she was completely there. She looked down, angry to have been strapped to the seat. But why only made her more mad. As she looked out, there were her five fellow soldiers, looking up at her. Though the craft was high in the sky and rapidly accelerating, she could see the sorrow and longing in their eyes. Taz was horrified.

"You bloody ******! Get me out of this harness and go get my compadres, they've been so good, go get them, you ********! You ain't seen nothin', the men are so much better than you shits! You better-" She could not say any more or squirm any more as one of the men in the white uniforms stuck a silver needle in her arm and her mind got foggy again, and Taz lost consiousness once more...

And then Taz was in the hospital. Beeping things all around her. She struggled for the world to focus again. Once it did, she sighed. She was already in safety. That was a plus for sure, but her marines were still somewhere fighting without her... The thought sickened her. She had been there for them, she had always been there for anyone who needed it, and now, no more Taz. Well, they'd have to manage. Right now, she was more interested in looking at all this new stuff. Heart monitors and tubes in her arm and.. a bed. She missed beds. Oh, and clean clothes too. This was great. Taz smiled, she hadn't smiled in a heck of a long time. Her eyes blinked, and she slowly moved her arms, legs, making sure everything worked. Everything did. She started to sit up but she heard a monitor start to beep and flash and some gibberish come out of a radio. She ignored this and sat up all the way. Those hospital idiots could do what they wanted with their fancy gadgets. There was nothing getting in the way of Taz and what she wanted to do, and what she really wanted to do right now was eat something. Preferably a taco. Her stomach started to rumble and she looked around for any sign towards a cafeteria, any brightly colored button that said something along the lines of 'food' on it...