The pounding on the door grew louder. He grimaced, the feeling in his legs dwindling. His body was redirecting the blood to his heart and brain as his organs slowly began to shut down. He had to hang on, to give his men adequate time. They had to get far enough away from the blast zone. He hadn’t come this far to fail them now.
The banging on the door rang out again. The Knights on the other side were growing more frantic.
Obi took one last breath, memories of the past racing through his mind before he closed his eyes for the last time. With a single click he pushed the button on the detonator; a single tear crept down his face before the fire consumed him.
Time: 12:05 p.m. February 28, 2071.
Location: Immigration Camp #4. Rohania, Tisaia
Kalah sat in his small tent, surrounded by three of his closest friends. He watched his companions huddle around the small fire, chatting anxiously about the news trickling into the camp from relatives and friends in Rohania. The flames illuminated a sparkle in Kalah’s normally dull brown eyes.
An hour had passed since news of the massive bomb that ripped through the Council of Royal Knight’s Headquarters spread. And Kalah was excited. Normally he would have dismissed such news, but when the ground shook and the smoke rose in the distance, he knew a change was coming. Today was the day he would rise with the rest of the immigrants at Camp #4. Today was the day they would finally achieve their freedom.
He turned to his tent mate Mulia. “How many weapons do we have hidden?”
Mulia held up his fingers as if he were counting the rifles he had hidden over the years. “About 50,” he finally responded.
“Then we should have enough for almost every able man in the camp. It’s time to fight. Spread the word. Today we go to war!” Kalah yelled, rising from his feet.
Time: 7:14 p.m. February 28, 2071.
Location: St. Peters Church, Rohania
Leo sat in the bowels of St. Peter’s church, hiding in the shadows and watching the flicker of candle light dance across the dark room. He listened carefully to the Rohanians who gathered around a massive oak table in the center of the room. He examined the weapons, maps and pages upon pages of documents littered across the table, wondering if they were real.
Leo had helped organize the meeting immediately after hearing of the news streaming in from Lunia. The Knights’ headquarters had finally fallen.
“Let us call this meeting to order!” shouted Susa Waria, a middle aged shop owner from Rohania, known for her waist length gray hair.
“I want to thank Leo, one of Rohania’s oldest protectors, for organizing this meeting. Rest assured you’re safe here. The Knights are busy with rescue attempts at their headquarters. That’s right, the news you have all inevitably heard by now is true. The Knights have been broken,” Susa said, pausing, the room breaking into cheers.
“Let us not forget, however, the window of opportunity for a rebellion is short. Knights are still positioned throughout Tisaia, and will without a doubt reorganize quickly. We must rally with the immigrant camps and strike them hard, and strike them swiftly if we hope to truly retake Tisaia.”
The room erupted in commotion. Susa stood, her hands trying to quell the disorder.
“What of the TDU? How do we know they’re strong enough to fight a full-fledged rebellion?” a man asked from a chair at the back of the room.
“They were strong enough to destroy the CRK headquarters,” another man Leo did not recognize shouted.
“We shouldn’t overestimate them, though,” a woman yelled at the end of the table.
“Order!” Susa yelled at the top of her lungs. The room quieted and she placed her hands down on the table softly, scanning the room with her dark brown eyes.
“We’ve waited for this day for a long time now. I can assure all of you my contacts have confirmed the TDU is still intact. News has already trickled in that the immigrant camps are beginning to rise up. We’ve been supplying them with weapons for years, waiting for an opportunity just like this…” Susa paused and grabbed a document from the table.
“In front of you there are directions. You’re all ward leaders, men and women who own shops or businesses in Rohania. These documents will provide you with the information you need to organize your wards. Weapons and supplies will be provided. What your people may lack in training they will certainly make up for in enthusiasm. The Knights will not be able to stop a full rebellion,” Susa calmly reassured them.
Silence crept over the room, the ward leaders scanning through their briefs.
“If you do not wish to be part of this uprising that is your decision. All I ask is you make this decision quickly. For those of you who do not wish to continue, please leave now,” Susa requested.
Leo watched the ward leaders fidget around the table, a few appearing anxious to leave, but they all remained. The darkness hid the nervous brows of these men and women, who had gone from struggling business owners to rebels overnight. Most of them had no experience with fighting, something they all lived amongst for so long.
Susa, however, was no stranger to fighting or rebellions. She had lived her entire life amongst those fighting to make the world a better place. In the beginning years, when Tisaia rose out of the ashes of war, she had been part of the TDU. She knew this experience wasn’t something she could pass onto the ward leaders through words on a piece of paper. She couldn’t expect them to fully grasp the task in front of them. All she could do was hope they would follow through with what she asked of them.
Susa looked around the room one more time, briefly studying the faces of each of the men and women she was relying on the most.
“Thank you for staying. I truly appreciate your bravery, and soon Tisaia will as well. Are there any questions?” Susa asked, pausing to glance around the room and study the anxious faces. Silence swept over the room and she continued. “If there are no questions, then this meeting is adjourned. Good luck and Godspeed,” Susa said, blowing out a candle, grabbing her rifle and heading for the cobblestone streets above.
Time: 7:01 a.m. February 29, 2071
Location: Rohania, Tisaia
Squad 19 sat perched on the first floor of an abandoned high rise, never repaired from the nuke that peeled back its layers of metal like a doctor cutting into flesh with a sharp knife. They watched the gray dawn break on the horizon, cold and dense. In the distance flames licked the skyline, smoke billowing above the CRK headquarters and Capitol, now nothing more than smoldering craters in the ground.
The sight sent a chill down Spurious’ spine, a relief so overwhelming it could almost be confused with joy. But joy wasn’t the proper word to describe the destruction he saw in the distance. Amongst the lifeless bodies of Governor Felix, Commander Augustus and their army of barbaric Knights lay many of his co-workers—collateral damage in a war that spared no one.
Spurious shook the images of death from his mind. The civilians, Lana, and his parents weren’t the only deaths being grieved. Squad 19 had not been able to mourn Obi or Nordica either. The time for grieving would come, but first Squad 19 had one last mission to complete.
A shrieking explosion broke through the morning gray haze as an ammo depot exploded somewhere in the city. The flash blinded Spurious momentarily. He shielded his naked eyes, but it was of no use; his vision was clouded with stars.
“Here, take these.” Ran said, handing him Nordica’s night vision goggles. “She has no use for them now,” Ran said, a slight whimper in his voice.