I come to the battlefield again.

Blood everywhere.

How long has it been?
How many years passed?
I think it was...
Thirty. Thirty years.

All my life I knew nothing but warfare, treachery and heartache.
I was rarely given a reason to smile.
And now...

I'm not sure if I even lived the right kind of life at all.

War is hell.

And peace seems like a distant dream that will never come.

I'm...

Tired.
I'm so tired of this. Sick of it.
Of this war, this violence, and now...

They took my boy.

Am I a good father, to do all of this?
Am I a good Commander to my people?
I know that I became jaded, cold...
Some would even say distant.

But I still want to save every one of them.

Because I know that this...
This military industry, this meatgrinder...

It's torment.
The young die, their minds full of bright ideas
and hopes of a better future.
But so often..

I hear about another dead. I hear about their dreams
crushed, dashed to the ground, destroyed.

For the Empire, right..?