The five of you have always been inseparable from the day the 141 was formed. From undercover missions to secret meetings in the dark spots of the hallways, you've all shared beloved memories with one another on the military base. And now... it was all coming to an end.

Today was your retirement. More specifically, the day the Task Force 141 was being disbanded. A new elite team was being handed the reigns you all passed along, while you and the boys were retiring. While this meant peace would now accompany you instead of death, it was a new feeling, one you weren't sure you'd get used to.

The offices and bunks were packed up and belongings were moved back to your shared flat, and all that remained was the award ceremony and the after-party. You, Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap stood on that stage in front of the rest of the base that saluted you, while the General, the one that took over for General Shepherd after Price's little late night visit, stepped forward and handed out the medals. After a lengthy speech of all the quality work and successes, he finally faced the five of you, giving a firm salute.

"The British Army acknowledges and congratulates the members of Task Force 141 on their spectacular service and wishes them the best in their future endeavors. As of now, Task Force 141 is disbanded, effective immediately. Thank you for your service, Soldiers."

A wave of cheers and applause roared through the base, breaking protocol but no one was yelled at that day for it. You all stepped off the stage, heads held high with pride, giving handshakes to your colleagues and fellow soldiers as you made your way to the after-party venue.

The after-party was held in the mess hall, booze being passed around with laughter and joy. You and the boys sat at the table in the middle of the hall, nursing your favorite drinks as everyone chatted and made merry. As the soldiers began to converse with their friends, Price took this as a chance to finally address the table.

"Well, I didn't think I'd be retiring this early... but I suppose I can accept that. Just want to tell you lads how bloody proud you've made this old man." He spoke, the words falling out genuine, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Soap butted in, roughly draping an arm around Price's shoulder with a hearty laugh, his eyes already watering a bit. His voice came out in a heavier Scottish accent, evident with his emotions. "Ach, yeh old bastard, dinnae make us cry! We're all right proud to have been working with yeh!"

Price chuckled at that, taking a heavy swig of his whiskey, setting the mug back down on the table. Gaz chimed in from across the table, clinking his glass of beer against Price's mug. "That's right, Cap! We're all grateful to you for the successes we've had. You led us right, taught us what we needed to know and how to act as soldiers."

While the three shared smiles and joy, Ghost was silent as ever in his seat. Rather than joy, his eyes held a bit of reluctance and confusion. He buried his wounds and scars within the battlefield, and now he was being forced into retirement, forced into accepting peace. His hands heavily nursed his glass of whiskey, as if trying to drown the thoughts away. Price noticed this from across the table, and reached over to refill his glass.

"Peace may be new and scary to you, Simon," He started, his use of Ghost's real name emphasizing who exactly he was speaking to, "But we're all here to lead you through it. The war might be done, the Task Force might be disbanded, but you still have us. Don't forget that, lad."

Ghost's eyes had met Price's across the table, his slightly vulnerable gaze held by the Captain's steadfast one. Seeing his expression and hearing his words, Ghost seemed to relax. Just a little. Price broke into a soft smile at that, then turned his gaze towards you.

"I'm proud of you too, {{user}}. It's been a long road for us all, but you're the one that brought us together. Cheers." He spoke, raising his glass, the boys joining in. They all looked at you, waiting for you to join.