Fall of Freedom

Gerald quietly made his was down the bloodied steps, leaving footprints where there wasn't already blood. He stopped himself as he ducked behind a window. He had seen a glimpse of two imperial men heading towards his building. Gerald quietly darted through the three empty rooms of the first floor, looking for possible exits. There were no other doors and only one window, but it was far too small for Gerald to squeeze through.

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit- shut up Ted!" he hissed to himself as he searched. He finally determined he had no way out aside from through. He readied his handgun once more, but checked the chamber first. Blood had gotten into the works. Anticipating failure, he decided to hold the handgun in his right hand, and the scalpel in his left. In case the gun failed to function his good arm would be ready for combat. He hid before the doorway to the room with the small window, a room to the left of the stairs and the entrance.

"I think we ought to invent a damn medical cleaver..." he muttered, as he could hear the steps of the soldiers now.

Back in the northern reaches Belaire, the Saint's Fury was going in full speed reverse as it fired at the gargantuan tank rumbling down the street towards it, militiamen and soldiers running along beside it, dispersing into the surrounding buildings, or riding atop it. The behemoth fired every now and then, as if toying with the smaller tank, the shells missing by mere feet. "Can't this thing go any faster?!" a frustrated Elena Sykes bellowed, stomping down on the tanks hatch as she fired her revolver at the incoming enemy nightmare, to no effect. The Saint's Fury fired off a shell that struck the imperial tank but it seemingly glanced off and went into a nearby building.

Vera snorted as blood trickled down her side, watching as a few of the enemy soldiers stagged through the smoke left from the grenade. She grinned sadistically and reached down at her waist, grasping the combat knife looped there. She dragged it out from the sheathe and started darted off into a nearby alley, the soldiers that had been following her strangely absent.

As the two imperials neared the door, they took up positions on either side, the soldier on the left leaning around ever so slightly before swinging about and kicking the door open, the blow almost taking it off the hinges. No sooner was the door gone did her step into the home, looking about with his gun raised, his comrade peering around the door frame.

Gerald heard a loud BANG! followed by a creeeak and a thUMP! Apparently the door had been kicked down. He made every effort he could to concentrate on his listening to be ready to ambush the threat should they enter his room- or to stalk them up the stairs or dart out if they head up that way instead. He re-readied his scalpel in expectation of the worst case scenario.

Nicholas scuffled over to the gun.
He picked it up, and fired and FLEEEEEWWWWW backwards.
He was K.O'd


The soldiers piled out of the vehicle. the were made into Swiss-Cheese by the imperial gunfire.

One of the imperial soldiers saw Nicholas KO himself and blinked a moment before shuffling over, watching his enemy get shredded. He stood over the unconscious fellow and peered down, snorting softly as he nudged Nicholas with a plated boot, checking his rifle over as he did so.

Vera grimaced as she held a hand firmly against her bullet wound, combat knife clutched tightly in her grip. She peered about the corner of the building she was leaning against, watching the first of the imperials stagger out of the smoke from her grenade, he was soon followed by another, and another. She frowned and turned around, only to find herself face to face with one of the armored foes. He raised his rifle to fire but found he was a little to slow as Vera's knife embedded itself through his left visor slit, piercing his eye and all the goodies behind it. He twisted about and fell with a dull thud, dead. The woman breathed a sigh of relief before stepping forward, but was soon impeded as a sharp pain smashed into the back of her skull and all went black.

The two soldiers began to sweep the front room of the house slowly, weapons raised as they did so. Outside, the commanding officer barked "If they can be taken alive, do so!" snorting loudly afterwards. He lifted his visor briefly as the rain began to clear and heard only a soft splash before the cold, wet muzzle of a handgun was jammed against his exposed face, a small, red headed woman holding it. She was breathing quite heavily and gulped for air once before pulling the trigger. In a glorious blossom of blood the mans head erupted out of the back of his helm, the bang from the firearm deafening.

The soldier on the right turned to see what the noise was and shouted in surprise. The other ignored it, misplacing the distance from which it came, and stepped into the left room.

As soon as he stepped in a man struck out and lodged a sharp instrument into the soldier's neck. Light armor protected him, however, and the stab only made a mere cut. The soldier shouted out- however his buddy had run out of the house to attack a red-headed woman.

The soldier knocked his assailant away but the assailant was also holding a handgun and fired it. The shot hit its mark true- assuming the mark was the helmet, and not the head. The soldier shook the impact off and readied his weapon. The assailant leapt at the soldier as the soldier fired, and a shot went through the assailant's side. Gerald fell into the soldier with a shout and knocked him over.

Gerald was curling up and yelling in agony, but his weight pinned the struggling soldier down. The soldier's gun was just out of reach. Gerald strained himself to ignore his wound and assumed a better pinning position on the soldier. Blood was oozing out over the two of them. Gerald pulled the soldier's helmet off and raised his scalpel high into the air, looking to make one wild stab to end the conflict. The soldier managed to hook Gerald hard in the face, which caused the scalpel to dislodge from the doctor's hands and fall innocently to the ground. As Gerald recovered the soldier snatched the scalpel and made to stab Gerald in the chest. He caught the soldier's arms mid-stab, however, and the two began an adrenaline-fueled power struggle betwixt locked arms.

However, as blood flowed freely from Gerald's gut, his strength would likely be fading first.

Running for dear forsaken life, Nivit takes off at gazelle like speeds - if possible. Making it back to the near by town's thin protectors that are the concrete. Taking up root inside a broken down shanty-house. Noticing a pack of cigarettes and taking advantage of the peace. Hunkering down in the corner of the room, he takes one sweet, life-shortening puff.

The sounds of fighting began to die down as far as Nivit could hear, Imperial soldiers wandering to and fro just outside his little haven, some carrying wounded militiamen or their own, their thick accents cutting the air as they spoke to one another. The topic of the day was apparently slave labor, as the Amarian and W.C forces they caught alive were still, well, alive!
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The redhead darted about behind her recent kills body as the other solder came out and fired, the bullets hitting the CO's still standing corpse, causing it to fall over. The redhead darted out from behind the falling corpse and turned sharply so her charge would take her towards the soldier whom had come out, the foe firing at her wildly. The first shot took out her bun, red hair cascading down onto her shoulders, the second whizzing past her face, then he clicked dry. In an instant she was on him, the imperial swinging the but of his rifle towards her face. She nimbly spun around the attack and slid around the man, ending up behind him with her handgun pressed to his back.

The muffled bang marked the end of another mans life.

She spun the weapon about and darted into the house, heading towards the sounds of tired men killing one another. Upon coming into the room she simply angled the weapon down and shot the imperial on the face, making quite the mess as the mans head promptly popped.
_____

Vera awoke to a splitting pain down the back of her skull and a fair bit of jolting, the roar of an engine invading her ears and bringing about another round of headaches. Her mouth was dry and when she made to move, she realized she was bound at the wrist and ankles and that her bullet would had been crudely patched up. She looked around a moment and realized as well she was not alone. This vehicle, she assumed it was anyway, held roughly twenty more Amarian's and W.C troops, all similarly shackled up. Towards the rear of the holding area stood an imperial soldier, overseeing all the prisoners.

Gerald yelled in a barbaric rage in order to summon up the last vestiges of his strength, but was only putting off his eventual demise by his opponent. The soldier noticed this and pushed harder, slowly drawing the scalpel to Gerald's chestwound.

However, a loud -BANG- interrupted the fight and Gerald fell to the floor and into the bloodied mess that was once a soldier's head. He then lurched up and yelled in agony as the scalpel had become embedded into Gerald's chest somewhat. He rolled over and yanked the scalpel out, with a small pool of blood following out and to the floor. He found himself staring into the face of a redheaded woman holding a gun, but couldn't think of any way to acknowledge her presence at the time. The room had become a prime contestant for bloodiest room in the house thanks to Gerald's contributions.

"Go get me my damned medical bag." he mumbled to the lady, unable to find the strength for much else. He sat up and applied heavy pressure to his gut by focusing his weight on his elbows and with his hands on his chest. It would likely buy enough for him to at least try something with his tools.

He couldn't discern any particular noises outside due to his condition.

Nicholas awakened in a prison cell.
Every thing was a blur.
He couldn't understand anything.
He looked at around.
Everything was still blurry.
He blinked.
He noticed several skeletons. At first, he thought they were paint... it was blurry.
He looked outside of his cell.

United imperial people ran down the corridor of the compound. Shouting in their langauge: "Get Prisoner 2114! Execution!"
Nicholas looked for them.
His vision was clearing.
He looked at this chest. He was shirt-less, but had the numbers "3241" Branded on his chest.
"So..." He thought.
"This is the mans side?" He thought. He looked around. It seemed true.
"So then... Where is 2114?" He looked around. every guy he saw, had a "3" on his chest.
"Well.. that was the only thing I could understand.." He thought.
He looked up. Clear as day, the whole ROW had a sign that covered it saying "3" On it.
"Phew." He said outloud.
His vision was clear as day now.
Their was no cell to the right of him, only cells to the left of him.
He saw a female walking down the hallway. She had the brand "3242" on her.
She was wearing a pair of jeans, and a shirt. the brand was on her arm. Nicholas looked at the top of the cell. it stated "3241-3242" on it. She was his cellmate.
The cell doors opened up. She was thrown in, and the door then locked.

Arthuria wrote:The sounds of fighting began to die down as far as Nivit could hear, Imperial soldiers wandering to and fro just outside his little haven, some carrying wounded militiamen or their own, their thick accents cutting the air as they spoke to one another. The topic of the day was apparently slave labor, as the Amarian and W.C forces they caught alive were still, well, alive!

~lol, you expect me to save them, don't'cha?~


Taking a census of the men around, and then looking up to find more solid buildings his gun couldn't manage to bring down on them - without taking out the slaves as well. Even if he could manage it, they would undoubtedly spot him and take his life before he could accomplish something more, something that he wanted - no, needed to do for his life.

Looking down, he slumped back into a corner and began on another cigarette. Which never really seemed to cling onto him and make him depend on it. Taking a hit, and then rolling over to look at, whom he couldn't save, those who were an theoretic ideal that he just couldn't grasp. Cowardice crept up onto him, trying to prevent it with guile - which Nivit just couldn't find.

Drooping his head into his knees, where he sat. Drowning in the unmeasurable self-ashame that flooded over him, as if it were a wave. Nivit slides his gun off to side the and takes up nest, until the sound of a West Coalition vehicle or convoy he could latch up with. Perhaps even a patrol guard would suffice. He takes another hit, to keep the self-ashame at bay.

The redhead, with a look of utter annoyance, glanced about briefly, eyes narrowed as she looked about for the bag, the sounds of fighting dying down here as well, the imperial hymn heard being played over a set of loudspeakers. "Sounds like we've lost this one." she said flatly, her voice having a very acute french accent. She eventually stumbles across the bag and moves back to Gerald and simply tosses it towards him with a snort, moving back into the main room to shut the nearly broken door. "Be quick, we have to move." she said again, urgency in her voice as she went about procuring the weapons off the two dead soldiers within the home. "Unless the idea of slavery sits right with you." she finished, looking one of the rifles over.
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Soon enough the sounds of bustle disappeared from outside Nivit's hiding spot, the only noise he'd likely hear being that damned imperial hymn. The rain had come to a full stop now, the sky still overcast as the scent of rainwater mingled in with the stink of smoke and decay. Though the silence was soon broken by a soft rumbling the grew louder and louder, a familiar voice heard accompanying it, "By the Empress we were slaughtered" Commander Sykes said over the grumble of the Saint's Fury, the injured vehicle grinding to a halt a few good meters from Nivit. "Check our ammo and tend to the injured, I'll look around for survivors." There was a thump and a grinding of boots against gravel.
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Vera slowly sat up and looked about as the transport drove over a bump, the smoldering remains of Belaire visible every now and then out the side view windows, many of the soldiers here were injured or unconscious, their groans echoing within the confined space. She edged up to one of the windows and saw that they were being escorted by a jeep crewed by three Imperials, a large machine gun mounted in the rear bed. With a grimace she looked back over at the lone guard, whom was now staring back at her. A short staring contest followed, broken only when the transport ran over another bump in the road, grinding to a halt.
________________

Despite the hard fought actions of some, the town of Belaire was lost to the invading imperial army, the streets littered with bodies from both sides. The Imperial Court has set up a base of operations just outside the town limits, where they tend to their wounded and process their new slave labor. Essentially a 'tent city', the base is several acres large and is bustling with activity, the smoldering ruins of Belaire in the distance.

Without noting any of the redhead's facial expressions Gerald stated plainly "Actually they'd probably just shoot me if they recognized who I was." as he dove through his bag quickly located and pulled out bandages, stitches, a threading needle, and a flask, among some other things- and took off his jacket.

He cleaned up his wounds, hissing in pain as he did so, and dabbed some liquid from the flask on his gut, then took a swig from the flask himself. After that he threaded the stitching wire through the needle and closed his wound. After he finished, he wrapped some bandaging around his waist and tied it off. He performed with expert speed while muttering idly to himself about some films he had seen a few months ago.

As he placed his things back in his bag he hesitated for a moment and cleaned his scalpel. After that, he placed everything back into the bag with the exception of the scalpel, which he slipped into his sleeve. He put his jacket back on and stood himself up with a grimace and looked at the redhead.

"Alright! Ready to go, m'am." he reported. He looked around and picked up his handgun and holstered it, then began to figure out his situation for escape.

This all took no more than 5 minutes.

She looked up briefly and tossed one of the rifles towards Gerald, keeping the other for herself as she stood up and peered out a nearby window. "I take it you're some one famous." she inquired, having to get onto her tiptoes to peer out the higher panes of the window. One would note she seemed to lack any ranking insignia or pins and she had a medley of devices about her waist that a normal soldier usually wouldn't carry, chief among those being a badge with the imperial royal imperial crest on it, spattered with a little blood. "My name is Lucia, by the way, I wish this were under different circumstances, our meeting that is." She glanced back towards Gerald and admittingly winked before hobbling back over towards the broken door.

Gerald caught the rifle and grunted- not quite expecting it to be as heavy or him to be as weak. He checked the chamber and tested the sights, finding both satisfactory. He replied as he inspected the rifle "I may have a slight reputation I'm not exactly happy to have tailing me." He turned to follow her and noted her lack of militia-type uniform. He hadn't exactly been looking at her apparel up to this point. Though he decided he didn't need to be asking about it at the moment. He grinned in response to her wink and followed her out of the room, one hand pressed on his side.

"Personally I don't think we could have met under better circumstances, miss... Lucinda." He peered out of a window and saw a line of imperials marching in a line between two of the buildings not too far away. "Think you know a good route out of here? I think I've got my fill of combat for the day."

She snorted at the mispronunciation of her name but let it slide for now, realizing the man must be weary.

"I don't actually, I planned on winging it." After saying as much she turned around and wandered back into the room where Gerald had been combating the imperial prior to her appearance and kicked a window out, the glass shattering and falling into the alley below. She reared back and kicked again, this time taking the entire pane out of the frame. A deep breath later and she lunged through the broken window, pushing out what little remained of it and landing in the alley outside, crouched. "Come on." she muttered, looking back to see if Gerald would need any assistance.

"Well that's just... not incredibly comforting" Gerald replied. He became even more uneasy when Lucia doubled-back into the previous room. He was looking through the window that she had previously looked through when he heard a crash from behind him. He spun around a readied his rifle to find that the redhead had just kicked the window.

"Are you crazy?!" he exclaimed "They're going to find us!" -but she didn't seem to take notice. She kicked the window out and dove out herself. Gerald's eyebrow sprung up.

"Well she definitely seems... spirited, Ted." he mumbled quietly. Gerald walked over, slung his medical bag over his shoulder and adjusted his strap, then he walked over to the window. He couldn't quite perform an act of acrobatics, but the window had been almost completely cleared out at this point. So he stuck one leg out, straddled the window, and pushed himself out. He noticed that the girl was looking at him expectantly. "I've got it. I'd like to think that I'm a good model for my own handiwork."

He landed with a thud and gave Lucia a nod. "Now to get out of here undetected so as to not have to become a slave- and I think we need to meet back up with my CO when we can..." Most of what he had said was to himself.

Picking up his gun, and saying to himself quietly, "Well, that is that, eh?" He takes another puff and flings the last of the cigarettes to its dismay. As if summoned by a mystical force of the whimsical fighters of this godforsaken war, he glides down the crooked stairs of the broken-down shanty house. "The war isn't light, now is it?" he mumbles, as he looks out at the defeated and weary soldiers whom obviously, couldn't take another morale bout of this measure.

Lugging his nifty med-kit out, he sets up shop. Taking on each time-consuming case one by one, throwing the soldiers who could use work to occupy their time, to work and grab things he needed as makeshift stationaries. Looking up once or twice to see the rain clouds.

Lucia bounced on her feet for a moment, a few shards of broken glass falling off of her as she did so. She glanced about a brief moment, a very brief moment, before breaking off into a sprint towards the left end of the alley.

It lead out onto a street that had been spared the rigors of combat, everything, down to the very papers that littered the road in the populaces haste to evacuate, was untouched, save for the rain. She poked her head out and peered about, crouching down as she did so. A moment later she motioned for the good doctor to follow with a wave of her hand.
_______

The grizzled face of Elena Sykes peered down at Nivit a long moment before she motioned a few of the able bodied soldiers to aid the man. She sighed and holstered her revolver and motioned for a pair of ladies wielding battered rifles to search the nearby area for stranded or injured soldiers. The duo, a blonde and a brunette, nodded in unison and dashed off into the surrounding buildings.

The Commander made her way over to Nivit and crouched next to him, pulling her wire-frame glasses off her face. "There's more medical supplies on the rear of the tank, take what you need." was all she said, glancing about. "What a mess."
______

The transport bounced to a halt a short while later, Vera banging her head against the siding of the vehicle. She groaned in pain as the rear of the transport opened up, a dozen or so imperials standing there, armed and waiting. The one that had rode with them gave a simple order; "Out.". With that, the soldiers that could move, shuffled out of the transport, Vera included. They were in the Imperial camp outside of Belaire, soldiers passing by giving them incredulous looks.

Gerald didn't notice Lucia's motioning instantly, and gave a confused look when he snapped back to attention. He looked around briefly before darting to her- stopping to grab his waist and wince once he arrived.

"Just don't lead us to a dead end and we'll end up... well, somewhere. Eventually."

"That's the plan!" the small woman chirped as she darted out into the road, making to cross the expanse. This, however, was interrupted as a hail of bullets rained down from a nearby building, one neatly slicing into the spunky woman's left thigh. She managed to carry herself to the other side of the road before throwing herself into the cover of a building, grimacing painfully.

"Fucking machine guns." she swore loudly, looking at her wound as it bled out onto the wet stones below. She glanced over at the doctor and frowned, pointing down the road towards the waiting predatoir, shrugging afterwards.

"Ahh... shit" Gerald shouted hoarsely. He peered around the corner just slightly and met a wave of machine gun fire in response. He ducked back and swore again. After some hesitation, the doctor fired a blind shot out towards the machinegunner. Unsurprisingly, it didn't hit anywhere near its mark. Gerald looked around his immediate area for anything at all, and looked over to his companion to check on her status.

Lucia was fingering her bullet wound, sanitation apparently far from her mind. She gingerly pulled out a small bit of lead and tossed the bloody shard aside before ripping off her left sleeve and using it as a bandage, wrapping it about the injured thigh. She snorted soon after and picked her rifle back up, glancing over at Gerald then the road betwixt them. She stood up, grimacing, and yanked out a stick bomb from the back of her belt. Without much thought she pulled the string pin and held it a moment before hurling it towards Gerald, luckily for the good doctor though it landed way short and exploded in the middle of the litter strewn road, throwing up a cloud of debris.

"Run, now!" her voice rang out across the pave way, the machine gunner hunting them taking potshots into the improvised smoke cloud.

Gerald hesitated for a moment out of surprise but flew out from his cover across the street. He began to hackingly cough as the smoke cloud apparently disagreed with him, and the contents of his bag rattled about as he ran, however the machinegunner was unable to use this to his advantage due to the noise his own weapon was making. A few bullets came close to hitting but ultimately Gerald managed to get to cover safely.

Hardly stopping to catch his breath he kneeled down to inspect Lucia's wound. Seeing that she had already dug the bullet out with dirty hands he scolded "You know more death from wounds come from poor sanitation than the actual wound!"

He dug into his bag and pulled out a cloth and a bottle of some chemical. He doused the cloth and began to dab at the wound. "This ought to sting a bit, by the way." he commented. "But we can't continue until we at least clean it. I can't have us arrive safely just to have you succumb to infection."