07-24-2018, 02:59 PM
Fleuran Forest, 5am
Jae Chung had a recurring nightmare that had plagued her since Annatown fell to Gonhogian forces.
She stood on the edge of a wide-open plane with Yasin Zaunq, who handed her the USB just as he had done in real life.
"The contents of that USB could put an end to this war," he said, "get that to Sonja, she'll know what to do," then vanished into a puff of smoke.
Jae began to walk across the plane, and Sonja Alvarez appeared over the horizon. Jae began to run towards her, when suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her mother. Her mother, who had died in childbirth, who she had only seen photos of. Her mother, whose death had led to her father taking her and her older brother out of the country of their birth and emigrated to Lauchenoiria when she was only a few weeks old.
She slowed down, staring at the woman who had died to give her life, and the woman waved back, then turned to walk away, in a different direction to the one Sonja stood. Caught between two places, Jae flailed and ground to a halt. She turned towards her mother, and the woman turned to look at her, then vanished into dust.
Jae screamed and began to run towards Sonja, but the ground she ran on crumbled, opening a deep chasm that Jae fell into. She tried to throw the USB to Sonja as she fell, but it stopped short and dropped into the bottomless pit, as the country crumbled to dust around her.
Jae woke in a sweat, shivering and crying.
"Stop it, Jae," she spoke aloud to herself, "you are stronger than this."
She gathered her composure, and stood, picking up her meagre collection of belongings and setting off in the direction of Usera. She would find Sonja, and they would win this war.
Usera, 6:59am
"The rain has finally come to an end in Fleura, meanwhile in Ecanta, the drought continues as no rain has been reported since April. Those in Costeno province are warned to apply plenty of sun cream as temperatures in the south are predicted to reach 37 degrees Celsius. And that's all for the weather today.
Thank you, Belinda, and that's all from us at the 6 o'clock morning news. Before we say goodbye, a reminder that all Lauchenoirian citizens should be on the lookout for these fugitives and traitors. Thank you, I'm Miguel Torrez and goodbye."
Eight photographs displayed on the screen around the smiling figure of Miguel, including Sonja, Josephine and Laura Moore.
"Collaborator," Leonie spat at the sight of the grinning Miguel, and jabbed the off button for the TV as strongly as she could. She leaned back in her chair, gasping at the shooting pain that passed through her body as she did so. She cursed whoever had shot her, and moved back into a more comfortable position. She'd been lucky, the bullet had missed everything important. But it was still a bullet.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the building, Sonja was in the war room, planning their advance out of Usera.
"Ma'am, reports of Gonhogian troops advancing on this area. And more Kerlians as well."
"That was to be expected. They'll have the Coalition to deal with as well, though. Proceed."
"Yes, ma'am."
The signal was sent and the Resistance troops began to move out of the city.
Camilo Arreola, who had been a twenty-one-year-old physics student before war broke out, was one of those on the front lines. He saw the Chaher's troops who had been stationed nearby panic at the sudden movement, after so many weeks of nothing but brief exchanges of fire.
He raised his weapon as they approached and soon was engaged in battle.
No more than twenty minutes later, the pathetically small encampment of Lauchenoirian soldiers had been dealt with, and Arreola was marching through the countryside. He knew deep down that it had been too easy so far.
The Resistance troops continued towards Yerville as the sun rose higher in the sky.
Lorentonia, 10am
Yousef Chaher stood awkwardly, watching his grandparents argue in Arabic. He could catch the occasional word, but he hadn't had reason to speak the language since he was six, and he'd forgotten most, especially at the speed they conversed.
Eventually, his grandmother flopped down on a seat, apparently defeated.
"It was lovely to see you again, Yousef, but I am afraid we cannot help your father," his grandfather's English was accented and his manner of speaking overly formal, in the way of someone who had learned a language as an adult, not a child.
"He's your son," Yousef begged.
"He is lost! Do you not see the way he has become? The darkness he has brought to this land? He may be of my blood, but he is not my son," his grandfather responded, raising his voice slightly. His grandmother said something in response, seeming to plead.
"See? She agrees with me," Yousef argued.
"Ha! If your father had not taken you away as a child you would know what she says. She begs me to take you with us when we leave this country, not to save your father. It cannot be done," he shook his head.
"You're leaving?"
"We must," he said, quieter this time, "it brings us too much shame to see the darkness we have brought to this country."
"He's not "˜darkness', he's a human being!"
"You came to this house claiming that you wished to discover religion, but all I hear from you is begging! You do not believe! Get out of my house! And do not return as long as you support that man!"
His grandfather ushered Yousef towards the door. Shocked, Yousef allowed himself to be pushed out the door and have it slammed in his face.
Buttercity, 1pm
The doctor hovered above Suleman Chaher.
"You seem much better today, Prime Minister," he said cheerfully as he took Chaher's temperature. Chaher felt better. Charissa Clarke wandered into the room.
"Charissa! How is the war?" he asked.
"Not going to well. The terrorists have taken Ulinaria and the foreign invaders calling themselves the "˜Coalition' in the south have nearly all of Costeno province. Kerlile is sending more troops and Gonhog is advancing north, but the drought in Ecanta is hitting us hard, and Noguera keeps calling and demanding we let the foreigners past our blockade."
"No, they will only sneak out spies."
"Indeed. Our contact on the island is becoming less useful since he decided to divorce the person he's meant to be spying on."
"Anael Noguera? Divorce? Isn't he meant to be really religious?"
"Yes, but his religion permits divorce."
"Ugh."
The pair sat in silence for a minute. Suddenly a pain shot through Chaher's body and he groaned.
"Sir?" Clarke said, mildly alarmed.
"If I die," Chaher said, lying back and grinning slightly, "please do me one favour: kill the Walker bitch."
"Understood, sir," Clarke grinned back. "Incidentally, we are broadcasting the faces of the fugitives everywhere, and we're going to make sure the Usera and Ulinaria resistance factions don't meet up."
"Good, now can I have some of that coffee you're holding?"
"I'll have to ask the doctor," Charissa said then went to stand up. Chaher grabbed her hand.
"I am Prime Minister," he warned her, sounding half threatening and half amused.
"Of course, Prime Minister," she said, handing him one of the coffee cups.
"Now, where are my sons?"
Liaville, Aeluria, 5pm
Carlito Moles kicked the football hard enough that it banged against the neighbouring fence.
"Carlito!" his mother yelled from the conservatory, warning him. His brother, Marcos, picked up the ball and rolled it to where the collection of toys sat.
"Come on, it's no fun when she's yelling," the ten-year-old scowled. Carlito, fourteen, shrugged and followed his brother to the patio. Fergie Douglas, his best friend sat dangling her legs in the pool. A massive tomboy, Fergie had always hung out with the boys, and had been Carlito's best friend since they were Marcos' age.
"Hey, Carl," she called and he went to sit down beside her. "Is he okay?" she asked, nodding towards a figure curled in a ball hiding in the shade.
"He's trapped here," Carl shrugged.
"We're all trapped here," Fergie pointed out.
"Yeah, but he's not from here."
"Hey, Fred!" Fergie called, but the figure didn't move. "Bonjour, Frédéric," she tried again, in badly accented French. The figure unfurled and glanced over at them, then pulled itself up and started towards them.
The boy who came over to them didn't look anything like the Laeralian exchange student who had come to stay with them for a week. On the 10th June. He was thinner, and he didn't smile all that much.
"Hey Fred," Fergie said gently, "í§a va?"
"Je suis pris au pií¨ge sur cette í®le et n'ai pas vu mes parents depuis plus d'un mois."
Fergie looked at Carlito, who just shrugged.
"Je suis... une banane?" Carlito said, holding out a banana. Both Fergie and Fred sniggered. "What?"
"You just say you are banana," Fred said, in badly accented English.
Carlito turned bright red and suddenly pushed Fergie into the pool. She shrieked and then leaned over, grabbing his leg and pulling him in as well. He reached out for Fred, who yelled and tried to move away.
"Non, je ne veux pas..." his words trailed away as they all ended up in the pool.
"Cannonball!" yelled Marco, and Fergie and Carlito ducked under the water as Marco landed in the pool, splashing water everywhere.
"Boys!" yelled Carlito's mother.
After playing in the pool for an hour, his mother called them all to come out and eat. Fergie hovered as if expecting to be invited, the way she always was before. But Carlito's mother shook her head.
"Not enough, sorry," she apologised, as Fergie walked alone down the path to her house across the street. She passed a crowd of older teenagers smoking and wrinkled her nose.
Carlito meanwhile sat down.
"Is this all?" Marcos exclaimed.
"They... I couldn't get any more, I'm sorry," their mother looked down.
"It'll be over soon," Carlito promised, but he couldn't make that promise any more than she could. "When will Dad be home?"
"Those Kivasekians are teaching him to fight, I don't know," their mother shrugged.
Fred suddenly jumped up and walked inside without a word. He had already finished his food.
"Can we not go ask the government to let him leave?"
"Even if they let some of the tourists go, son, Lauchenoiria is at war with Laeral. He's better here than on the mainland," his mother said.
Carlito went to take another bite, then realised his plate was already empty, and dropped his fork in exasperation.
Jae Chung had a recurring nightmare that had plagued her since Annatown fell to Gonhogian forces.
She stood on the edge of a wide-open plane with Yasin Zaunq, who handed her the USB just as he had done in real life.
"The contents of that USB could put an end to this war," he said, "get that to Sonja, she'll know what to do," then vanished into a puff of smoke.
Jae began to walk across the plane, and Sonja Alvarez appeared over the horizon. Jae began to run towards her, when suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her mother. Her mother, who had died in childbirth, who she had only seen photos of. Her mother, whose death had led to her father taking her and her older brother out of the country of their birth and emigrated to Lauchenoiria when she was only a few weeks old.
She slowed down, staring at the woman who had died to give her life, and the woman waved back, then turned to walk away, in a different direction to the one Sonja stood. Caught between two places, Jae flailed and ground to a halt. She turned towards her mother, and the woman turned to look at her, then vanished into dust.
Jae screamed and began to run towards Sonja, but the ground she ran on crumbled, opening a deep chasm that Jae fell into. She tried to throw the USB to Sonja as she fell, but it stopped short and dropped into the bottomless pit, as the country crumbled to dust around her.
Jae woke in a sweat, shivering and crying.
"Stop it, Jae," she spoke aloud to herself, "you are stronger than this."
She gathered her composure, and stood, picking up her meagre collection of belongings and setting off in the direction of Usera. She would find Sonja, and they would win this war.
Usera, 6:59am
"The rain has finally come to an end in Fleura, meanwhile in Ecanta, the drought continues as no rain has been reported since April. Those in Costeno province are warned to apply plenty of sun cream as temperatures in the south are predicted to reach 37 degrees Celsius. And that's all for the weather today.
Thank you, Belinda, and that's all from us at the 6 o'clock morning news. Before we say goodbye, a reminder that all Lauchenoirian citizens should be on the lookout for these fugitives and traitors. Thank you, I'm Miguel Torrez and goodbye."
Eight photographs displayed on the screen around the smiling figure of Miguel, including Sonja, Josephine and Laura Moore.
"Collaborator," Leonie spat at the sight of the grinning Miguel, and jabbed the off button for the TV as strongly as she could. She leaned back in her chair, gasping at the shooting pain that passed through her body as she did so. She cursed whoever had shot her, and moved back into a more comfortable position. She'd been lucky, the bullet had missed everything important. But it was still a bullet.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the building, Sonja was in the war room, planning their advance out of Usera.
"Ma'am, reports of Gonhogian troops advancing on this area. And more Kerlians as well."
"That was to be expected. They'll have the Coalition to deal with as well, though. Proceed."
"Yes, ma'am."
The signal was sent and the Resistance troops began to move out of the city.
Camilo Arreola, who had been a twenty-one-year-old physics student before war broke out, was one of those on the front lines. He saw the Chaher's troops who had been stationed nearby panic at the sudden movement, after so many weeks of nothing but brief exchanges of fire.
He raised his weapon as they approached and soon was engaged in battle.
No more than twenty minutes later, the pathetically small encampment of Lauchenoirian soldiers had been dealt with, and Arreola was marching through the countryside. He knew deep down that it had been too easy so far.
The Resistance troops continued towards Yerville as the sun rose higher in the sky.
Lorentonia, 10am
Yousef Chaher stood awkwardly, watching his grandparents argue in Arabic. He could catch the occasional word, but he hadn't had reason to speak the language since he was six, and he'd forgotten most, especially at the speed they conversed.
Eventually, his grandmother flopped down on a seat, apparently defeated.
"It was lovely to see you again, Yousef, but I am afraid we cannot help your father," his grandfather's English was accented and his manner of speaking overly formal, in the way of someone who had learned a language as an adult, not a child.
"He's your son," Yousef begged.
"He is lost! Do you not see the way he has become? The darkness he has brought to this land? He may be of my blood, but he is not my son," his grandfather responded, raising his voice slightly. His grandmother said something in response, seeming to plead.
"See? She agrees with me," Yousef argued.
"Ha! If your father had not taken you away as a child you would know what she says. She begs me to take you with us when we leave this country, not to save your father. It cannot be done," he shook his head.
"You're leaving?"
"We must," he said, quieter this time, "it brings us too much shame to see the darkness we have brought to this country."
"He's not "˜darkness', he's a human being!"
"You came to this house claiming that you wished to discover religion, but all I hear from you is begging! You do not believe! Get out of my house! And do not return as long as you support that man!"
His grandfather ushered Yousef towards the door. Shocked, Yousef allowed himself to be pushed out the door and have it slammed in his face.
Buttercity, 1pm
The doctor hovered above Suleman Chaher.
"You seem much better today, Prime Minister," he said cheerfully as he took Chaher's temperature. Chaher felt better. Charissa Clarke wandered into the room.
"Charissa! How is the war?" he asked.
"Not going to well. The terrorists have taken Ulinaria and the foreign invaders calling themselves the "˜Coalition' in the south have nearly all of Costeno province. Kerlile is sending more troops and Gonhog is advancing north, but the drought in Ecanta is hitting us hard, and Noguera keeps calling and demanding we let the foreigners past our blockade."
"No, they will only sneak out spies."
"Indeed. Our contact on the island is becoming less useful since he decided to divorce the person he's meant to be spying on."
"Anael Noguera? Divorce? Isn't he meant to be really religious?"
"Yes, but his religion permits divorce."
"Ugh."
The pair sat in silence for a minute. Suddenly a pain shot through Chaher's body and he groaned.
"Sir?" Clarke said, mildly alarmed.
"If I die," Chaher said, lying back and grinning slightly, "please do me one favour: kill the Walker bitch."
"Understood, sir," Clarke grinned back. "Incidentally, we are broadcasting the faces of the fugitives everywhere, and we're going to make sure the Usera and Ulinaria resistance factions don't meet up."
"Good, now can I have some of that coffee you're holding?"
"I'll have to ask the doctor," Charissa said then went to stand up. Chaher grabbed her hand.
"I am Prime Minister," he warned her, sounding half threatening and half amused.
"Of course, Prime Minister," she said, handing him one of the coffee cups.
"Now, where are my sons?"
Liaville, Aeluria, 5pm
Carlito Moles kicked the football hard enough that it banged against the neighbouring fence.
"Carlito!" his mother yelled from the conservatory, warning him. His brother, Marcos, picked up the ball and rolled it to where the collection of toys sat.
"Come on, it's no fun when she's yelling," the ten-year-old scowled. Carlito, fourteen, shrugged and followed his brother to the patio. Fergie Douglas, his best friend sat dangling her legs in the pool. A massive tomboy, Fergie had always hung out with the boys, and had been Carlito's best friend since they were Marcos' age.
"Hey, Carl," she called and he went to sit down beside her. "Is he okay?" she asked, nodding towards a figure curled in a ball hiding in the shade.
"He's trapped here," Carl shrugged.
"We're all trapped here," Fergie pointed out.
"Yeah, but he's not from here."
"Hey, Fred!" Fergie called, but the figure didn't move. "Bonjour, Frédéric," she tried again, in badly accented French. The figure unfurled and glanced over at them, then pulled itself up and started towards them.
The boy who came over to them didn't look anything like the Laeralian exchange student who had come to stay with them for a week. On the 10th June. He was thinner, and he didn't smile all that much.
"Hey Fred," Fergie said gently, "í§a va?"
"Je suis pris au pií¨ge sur cette í®le et n'ai pas vu mes parents depuis plus d'un mois."
Fergie looked at Carlito, who just shrugged.
"Je suis... une banane?" Carlito said, holding out a banana. Both Fergie and Fred sniggered. "What?"
"You just say you are banana," Fred said, in badly accented English.
Carlito turned bright red and suddenly pushed Fergie into the pool. She shrieked and then leaned over, grabbing his leg and pulling him in as well. He reached out for Fred, who yelled and tried to move away.
"Non, je ne veux pas..." his words trailed away as they all ended up in the pool.
"Cannonball!" yelled Marco, and Fergie and Carlito ducked under the water as Marco landed in the pool, splashing water everywhere.
"Boys!" yelled Carlito's mother.
After playing in the pool for an hour, his mother called them all to come out and eat. Fergie hovered as if expecting to be invited, the way she always was before. But Carlito's mother shook her head.
"Not enough, sorry," she apologised, as Fergie walked alone down the path to her house across the street. She passed a crowd of older teenagers smoking and wrinkled her nose.
Carlito meanwhile sat down.
"Is this all?" Marcos exclaimed.
"They... I couldn't get any more, I'm sorry," their mother looked down.
"It'll be over soon," Carlito promised, but he couldn't make that promise any more than she could. "When will Dad be home?"
"Those Kivasekians are teaching him to fight, I don't know," their mother shrugged.
Fred suddenly jumped up and walked inside without a word. He had already finished his food.
"Can we not go ask the government to let him leave?"
"Even if they let some of the tourists go, son, Lauchenoiria is at war with Laeral. He's better here than on the mainland," his mother said.
Carlito went to take another bite, then realised his plate was already empty, and dropped his fork in exasperation.
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