Chapter 123 - Overpopulation

<---Chapter 122 - Ruminations | Table of Contents |Chapter 124 - Path of Blood--->

The word of the war spread like wildfire, igniting thousands of refugees to flee Ocra in droves uncountable, their trail never-ending as they tried their luck. Many who felt they would not be able to get into Tenar headed for other cities in Versia or even remote towns, seeking safety further away from the conflict. However, Ocra did not experience a drop in population, but instead, an increase as evacuations of surrounding villages became more and more frequent, with once stalwart village defenders now fleeing for the cities.

Waves upon waves of refugees ravaged the countryside, their hunger and desperation driving each step while they scavenged through every field and forest they entered. Some met an unfortunate death deep in the Keru Forest, while large swaths of farms were decimated by the sheer numbers the farmers faced, many not having the requisite guards to defend such a horde. The refugees shambled along like groups of mindless zombies, devouring everything in their path. Trash and excretion were left behind, marking their path as they traveled along the major road.

The terrible conditions of the refugee camps had pushed many young men and women to join the Versian army, but some of them merely joined in order to receive their rations and skive off training, hiding wherever they could and skirting around the rules by exploiting the lack of trainers. However, as soon as the war begun, a minority deserted the army, unwilling to be sent to the frontline to die as cannon fodder. They hid themselves amidst the refugees, avoiding detection and joining the throng.

Others found employment under Harrison Industries. The few lucky ones found valuable positions among the engineers or technicians, while the bulk were forced into slave workshops and factories in Desham, Creuliz, and the underground of Tenar. Some who managed to escape captivity were only laughed at and sent back to where they came from by the police and guards. "Slavery doesn't exist any longer in Versia!" was the usual response.

It was this rising tide of dissatisfaction, this growing swelling force of anger and unrest, that Kyle sought to manipulate to his own goals here in Desham. I never expected Harrison to strike first. If he wins, he will be able to push to Raktor proper within a month. He made a few assumptions, trying to simulate the battle at the border of Ocra to the best of his ability.

Harrison had a smaller army in general, but he did have better technology on his side in the form of Project Aurtla, which allowed him air superiority. Unless Count Leon was also hiding information regarding his military capabilities, he saw no feasible way for Count Leon's troops to shoot down the planes. If his assumption was correct, Harrison's planes may be able to achieve flight at one-kilometer altitude above ground, or three thousand kilometers at best. This would put it far beyond the range of his Aspis MK1 Repeaters that were currently produced for Count Leon, the pellets losing much of their kinetic energy through the air before they could even touch the plane's surface.

Still, this presented him with a clear opportunity. With Harrison now busy on the frontlines, it means his army is preoccupied with that. Hopefully for long. Kyle immediately called all of the Ghosts together, even those who were still training as fresh recruits. As soon as they had gathered, Kyle announced his next steps. "In three days, we strike. There's no time to waste when a golden opportunity has been handed to us."

The Ghosts were all shocked. "How do we strike with just two dozen of us, and only a few trained?!" One of the Ghosts exclaimed. "The garrison of Desham numbers in the hundreds, there's no way we'll be able to fight all of them!"

Kyle held a knowing smile on his face, the plan already clear. "We won't be the only ones in town fighting for Desham."

Two days later...

Locals of Desham would remember that nights used to be dark and quiet. Instead, those who lived within the city could only hear random shouts and retching sounds from the refugee camps, many refugees suffering from food poisoning or dysentery that was spreading rapidly. Countless of them had no place to stay, simply sleeping outside, while the more opportunistic ones looked for naive, unsuspecting people, trying to steal their rations. Even with all of this happening, streams of refugees were still coming in, their torches burning bright in the night, stretching all towards the horizon.

An officer looked on in dismay from the top of the walls, right above the gate mechanism. He shook his head at the sight of the refugee camp, looking over his shoulder to see a guard yawning, his eyes tired from the long shift. "Hey, you. Stay alert! Anything could happen."

"Y-y-es, sir!" The lethargic guard snapped awake, rubbing his eyes hard while staring intently forward. The officer let out a frustrated sigh, about to leave the wall and climb down the stairs, when the lethargic guard motioned towards him. "Uhm, Officer Gabriel?"

"Yes?"

"I-I was wondering if you could uhm... spare me more food. I'm more than willing to give up my tenars if it means I can get more."

"Isn't the daily rations enough?"

"Yes, but... to be honest. It has been dwindling month by month. The last two weeks have shown significant decreases. My wife is having a baby soon, and I was hoping to get some extra just for her." The lethargic guard held a sheepish smile, looking around nervously.

"I don't control the food rationing, its the Governor and the council." Officer Gabriel patted the guard's shoulder slowly. "I can try, but no guarantees."

"Thank you, sir, that means a lot to me." The guard bowed respectfully, while Officer Gabriel descended the stairs. As he reached the base, he noticed a hooded man waiting for him, his gnarly white hands barely visible through the sleeves of his brown-like robe.

"Officer Gabriel. Your presence has been requested by the Governor."

"Understood." Officer Gabriel walked with purpose, moving down the empty cobblestone streets while the hooded man matched his pace. "Any information on the recent incident in the Keru Forest? Have you found out who is doing it?"

"We might have a lead. We've been expanding our observations, and there seem to be a few villagers transporting meat during the night. They are escorted by armed men, and there have already been a few skirmishes. However, there's not enough manpower to spare. If you could just allocate one platoon -"

"I don't have the luxury to allocate one platoon." Officer Gabriel snapped. "You're Nest, for crying out loud. It's your job to make sure that the Keru Forest logging zones are protected!"

"And they still are. I fear there is a rebel movement growing among the refugee camps, fuelled by the transportation of meat from within the Keru Forest. All scouts we have sent that way have never returned. If we're talking about responsibilities, then it is your job to make sure the refugee camps are under control." The hooded man asserted his stance.

"Have you seen the number of refugees? Even my five platoons are not enough to control them if they decide to rise up."

"I will squash any rebellious elements before they even have the chance to appear."

"So be it." The hooded man from Nest didn't push any further. The rest of their walk was in silence as they approached the town hall, its lights still on while sounds of partying could be heard from within, loud dancing music echoing. The two of them entered through the main door, seeing an entire lavish banquet being thrown for the factory owners and councilors of the city, chit-chatting with each other while skimpily dressed girls danced on a stage, singing along with the music.

Officer Gabriel eyed the scrumptious spread of food all laid out along a long dining table, the attendees eating away and enjoying the food. Many of them did not finish their plates, throwing the rest of the food away into a bin and getting the waiters and servants to clean up the wasted food. He closed one eye to the apparent lack of understanding of Desham's current condition, recalling his position solely as a military officer and approaching the Governor himself.

The Governor was a well-toned man, a big Euria pipe in his mouth with his hair slicked back, a girl on each arm as he rested against a velvet couch, laughing heartedly while swirling a glass of wine in his right hand that was adorned with rings. "Would you believe that I got this ring from a refugee? The dealer told me he got it for merely two potatoes. TWO! HAH, what a ruckus!" The Governor roared with laughter and slapped his thighs, the girls and nearby sycophants all sniggering along with him.

"Governor, you called for me?" Officer Gabriel interrupted his storytelling, saluting the governor while the hooded man stood next to him.

"Ah, Officer Gabriel. How good of you to finally show up." The Governor let out a burp, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Now, here's the question of the day - WHY ARE THE DUMB REFUGEES STILL AT MY DOORS?" He suddenly roared, frightening the girls as he slammed his leather shoes on the ground hard, the click of sole echoing through the banquet hall and piercing through the music.

Officer Gabriel glanced around, noticing that no one was moving to stop the Governor. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Governor, sir. Surely, you must understand that under the Constitution of Versia, we are legally required to offer assistance to any and all Versians, regardless of race, language, or religion. These refugees come from Ocra, and they all are in dire need of -"

His answer was interrupted by a splash of red wine hitting his face head-on, the Governor having tossed it from his glass. "And there's my answer. How's that, hmm?"

Officer Gabriel did not wipe away the wine from his face, instead bearing the stares and mocking laughter from other attendees who saw his hair dripping wet. "Sir, whether or not you splash me with wine does not change the fact that we have to help them as soon as we can. In order to prevent any rebellious charge, we should attempt to integrate them into our city and-"

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE LEECHES ENTERING MY CITY!" The Governor bellowed. "They are scum, fickle-minded dirty little creatures who only know how to beg and laze the entire day away. Tell me, how is the recruitment of workers for our factories and Tenar Logging? Perhaps you can illuminate their efficacy for us, Mister Vicorn." He motioned towards the hooded man, his old wrinkled face now clearly visible under the bright lights of the banquet hall.

"Governor, sir. You are exactly right. Despite the refugees having increased in numbers in the hundreds on a daily basis, many are still refusing to sign up for the Versian Army, nor are they willing to take up job roles for many of our facilities and employment opportunities. They are most derisive of your kind offering to them." Vicorn bowed respectfully.

"Did you hear that, Officer Gabriel? There was a chance offered to them, a way out from their dire situation - one that everyone in this city understands. Work or starve. The rules have never changed for us since I grew up here on the farm, why does it have to change for these lazy bums now, all looking for free food to eat, yet doing nothing at all?!"

Because the employment opportunities are akin to slavery. Still, Officer Gabriel somewhat agreed, knowing that the refugees could easily join the Versian army and be trained fully. Sure, he understood that not everyone wanted to fight, but he couldn't deny that a way out had been offered for them. "You're right, Governor, but even if we do not want to let them in, we should find some other method of appeasing them."

"Are the rations we provide not enough? They have already done enough damage to the farms around them! We won't be seeing another harvest for six more months if they continue to rip out and destroy everything we have done to the soil." The Governor scoffed with a derisive expression. "Such ungrateful beings, isn't that right, girls?" The girls giggled and nodded in agreement.

Officer Gabriel was about to offer his opinion once more when Vicorn interjected. "Governor, you are exactly right about this. Despite your good graces and donations of rations, the refugees have been terrorizing the Keru Forest in search of additional food to sate their never-ending greed. In fact, we suspect a quickly growing rebel movement that seeks to destabilize Desham. We have received good information on a route for hunting being set up, feeding refugees in the camps directly."

"What?! They are harvesting food from the forest?" The Governor's face paled.

Officer Gabriel saw what Vicorn was aiming for, quickly interrupting as fast as he could, "Governor, that should be a good thing. If the refugees' hunger is met, then there would be less of a chance for them to rebel-"

"Idiot!" The Governor waved his right hand animatedly. "If they have enough food, then how will I amass my collection of rare jewelry? I got this for two potatoes!"

"Exactly, Governor." Vicorn fuelled the flames. "The refugees no longer want to rely on your rations alone. They see you as a laughing stock and plan to be self-sufficient while hoarding everything of worth to them."

Gabriel's eyes widened in horror. "Governor, surely you can't be thinking about-"

"Food is a currency here, Officer Gabriel. And I am its richest king from the horizon to here!" The Governor stretched out his hand. "Those loyal to me will receive their due rewards, but those who dare to reject my hand and seek out alternative sources will feel my wrath! Officer Gabriel! Receive your orders!"

Officer Gabriel wanted to retort, but stuck to his ingrained military decorum, hardened over the last ten years as he stood at attention, his face and upper uniform still soaked in red wine.

"You are to immediately sweep and search the refugee camps for this source of meat. Find them and confiscate them - I want all food that isn't our rations to be placed in our silos or storage. If you need a reason, explain to the refugees that the food they foraged is either dangerous, toxic, or medically unsafe. Do you understand?"

"Of course. I will find the meat from Keru Forest and -"

"NOT JUST THE MEAT!" The Governer slammed his hand on the table in front of him. "I'm only going to repeat myself once: I want every food that is not OUR ration to be confiscated. Are we clear, or do I have to resort to other punitive measures?"

"No sir, I have received my orders."

"Hmm... that does not sound convincing enough. Vicorn. I'll have you in charge as well. Use whatever tactics you need. If Officer Gabriel is unwilling to carry out his orders, you will carry it out in his stead."

Officer Gabriel was stunned, noticing Vicorn already had a grinning smile on his old, wrinkled face. He planned for all of this to happen. He wants a bigger control of the city by sucking up to the damn Governor!

"Well, what are you two waiting for? Go, do it now!"

Officer Gabriel didn't expect it to happen immediately, hoping he could try to convince the Governor otherwise. "Governor, perhaps we should wait till dawn to give the refugees some ample warning abou-"

"Vicorn!" The Governor motioned with his hand. "You know what to do."

"Do I have full command over the garrison, Governor?" Vicorn smiled.

"If you do what I ask, then yes, you have it now."

"Governor, this I will not stand for. Vicorn is a member of the public and not sworn into an officer role. He cannot be tasked to lead a military force."

"I AM THE KING HERE, AND YOU WILL LISTEN! OR I CAN STRIP YOU OF YOUR POSITION, AND YOU AND YOUR FAMILY CAN LANGUISH IN THE DEPTHS OF JAIL." The Governor wasn't taking any more criticism from Officer Gabriel, forcing the officer to immediately back down in submission.

Gabriel and Vicorn left immediately, Vicorn still having that irritating grin on his face. "Bad luck, officer. Looks like I am in charge now. Just sit back and see how it's done."

If Gabriel had a choice, he would have resigned on the spot, but he knew his family would be in trouble. I just have to hold out, hold out long enough. I can't afford to lose my position. "There's no need to. I will carry out the orders."

"Didn't you hear the Governor? I have full rights to take charge of the garrison!"

"You wanted your one platoon, yes? Don't step on my toes, and you will have your requested reinforcements once this operation is over."

"So be it. But if you falter even once, I'm taking control immediately." Vicorn shrugged, content to let Officer Gabriel handle the situation. "My men will also participate in the operation whenever you begin." Vicorn left him, returning to his Nest hideout to prepare.

Gabriel headed to the military garrison at the corner of the city, a simple small fort where the barracks and armory were held securely behind armored walls. As soon as Gabriel reached his office, he got a guard on duty to report to his office immediately. "Wake everyone up. I want them lined up in the square in ten minutes."

"..sir? It's already close to midnight. Do you mean the night shift or the -"

"I mean everyone. Now. NOW!" Gabriel vented his frustration, slamming both hands on the office table, the guard scrambling to ring the parade bell. The bell gongs resounded across the barracks, making the nearby townsfolk and soldiers wonder what was even going on.

Yet the well-trained garrison members fell in quickly with their equipment and rifle all in place, while some of the lucky recruits who had been assigned to the city garrison rushed out sloppily, their gear still in a complete mess. Gabriel stepped up towards the platoons, addressing them directly. "Guards of Desham, we have been tasked with a cleanup operation. Refugees have been illegally foraging from the Keru Forest, decimating the plants and trees in the region, harming what is rightfully of Desham! Our orders are to confiscate and have every food source that is not our rations!"

No one talked, but the confusion in their eyes was clear. Gabriel could also sense a slight hesitation in a minority, many of them thinking the same way. "Only a third of you will act first, while the others will be rotated on a shift basis. There is an incentive for you to carry out this mission. For every five you confiscate, you will get to keep one yourself."

Immediately the morale of the Guards were heightened immediately, their eyes brightened up even under the darkness of night. Many were unsatisfied with the food, while others were thinking about who they could give the food to in their family. Even the city dwellers were rationed as well, though not to the extent that the refugees were.

The operation began in earnest, the guards marching out of the gates into the slum-like maze of the refugee camps that had been expanding non-stop since months ago. Within minutes of the operation beginning, fights and scuffles started to break out, refugees trying to cling to their food and prevent it from being stolen. "I had this bread since I left Ocra! It's not yours, and I didn't steal it from the Keru Forest!"

"It's for your own safety - only the rations provided by Desham are medically sound. Look at the mold growing on the bread; it's what's giving you food poisoning!" Some of the guards used the official excuse given, while the majority were more than happy to abuse their new position of power, beating and snatching any type of food from the refugees. A small minority of guards even snatched official rations, uncaring of the reason or rhyme for the operation.

Gabriel simply closed his eyes to the chaos unfolding as the first gunshot rang out, one of the guards having shot a refugee dead on the spot. It was from there that the guards became even more bolder, having the superior firepower over the unarmed refugees. Vicorn himself and his Nest soldiers had entered the fray as well, taking advantage of the operation to steal anything of value, not just food alone. The Nest soldiers had expressions of joy and laughter as they tortured and wrung out everything worth something from the weakened refugees, not even sparing the sick or elderly. He watched as guards beat refugees into submission, the very innate nature of human violence coming out to the forefront as they fought over every scrap of food, confiscating them.

Blood was spilled on the street as some refugees tried to gather together, forming groups to resist the guards. However, even stacking bodies were not enough to face against the barrel of an arctech rifle that could end your life in a single pellet. As such, many refugees immediately gave up their food, and those who had nothing left to give were forced to relinquish their rations.

Carts upon carts of confiscated food were loaded up, escorted by squads of guards into the city, heading for the food storage areas where towering grain silos were filled to the brim. Some refugees tried to hide among the food in the carts, attempting to smuggle themselves only to be beaten badly, bruises coating their entire body before being hung up by their wrists over the gates as a warning to others.

"Sir, permission to join the operation!" The same lethargic guard who had been on the wall saluted him, eager to join the fray. Gabriel didn't give his tacit approval, only motioning with his hand for the guard to go ahead. The rest of the garrison that was still guarding the wall and jealous at the opportunity their fellow guards had rushed down with anticipation, eagerly ravaging through the refugee camp to search for food to confiscate as their own.

As the operation wore on, Gabriel had lost track of the number of carts that had been filled up to the brim. There wasn't any accurate census on the refugee camps, but he reckoned that it was about twenty thousand or so. If all of them launched an attack together, it would take a miracle for my garrison of two hundred to even attempt to hold them back. His paranoia had him ensure that there were enough soldiers back in the barracks, leaving two-thirds of the soldiers in reserve. "Make sure we have our mounted repeaters ready to go as well as cannons. Just in case." Gabriel warned his sergeant beneath him.

The guards were rotated in shifts, the operation lasting through the night and earning panicked shouts and screams from the terrorized refugees. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS! WE ARE VERSIANS TOO!" A young man roared as he was pinned down to the ground, his chin scraping against the rocky dust ground that had long lost its color.

"You're not a real Versian; you're just a leech!" One of the guards sneered. "You had every opportunity to sign up for the Army, yet you want all the benefits but none of the work." Just like this, a divide had been drawn between the guards of Desham and refugees, a hidden line in the sand that may never be repaired.

Gabriel had stayed up the whole night, his eyes slowly drooping asleep. As far as he could tell, the operation would be completed soon, so he decided to retire to his office and return to the military garrison. However, as soon as he could lean back into his chair, a sudden loud explosion rang out through the city, a booming creaking sound deafening through the still morning air that was followed by a thunderous crash. "What?!" He hurriedly grabbed his arctech radio, tuning the channel. "This is Officer Gabriel, what's going on?"

Only static could be heard across the various channels, and none of his messages got through in any way. "Hello? Hello! Gate guards! What's the situation!" Gabriel desperately fiddled with the dial to no avail. Having no other options, he stepped out of his office, heading to the parade square of the military barracks, only to see the arch of the city gates collapse entirely. Instead, all that was left was a crumbling pile of rubble in a V-shape form, refugees already clambering over to get into the city.

Other reserve guards were already awoken by the crash, astonished by the sudden attack that came out of nowhere. "Get everyone out here NOW! This is not a drill!" Gabriel urged the nearest sergeant, who was still rubbing his eyes sleepily, slapping his shoulder hard and jolting him awake.

They assembled an arctech wagon convoy, loading up weapons and mounting up arctech repeaters on the roof of the wagons, moving forward with portable barricades and other defenses as well. "What happened to our guards out in the refugee camps?" Gabriel asked a nearby sergeant hastily as he rode in the driver's cabin of the wagon.

"The radio isn't getting through to them. I'm afraid that if the refugees are already coming into the city, they must have been lynched already!"

"No matter. We'll set up barricades at the main street to prevent the refugees from spreading further into the city. I want all the alleyways and side lanes blocked off too, no one gets past the main square!"

While Gabriel's response was quick, the refugees were already emboldened by the collapse of the gate. Any city guard that had survived the collapse was brutally mauled to unrecognizable lumps of meat straddled among the rubbles, suffering countless knocks as refugees continued to pour into the city through the widening gap. Already they were gathering into a large crowd, marching down the main street and heading towards the large towering grain silos that were unmistakable in the Desham's skyline.

"STOP RATIONING AND STEALING OUR FOOD! FREEDOM FOR VERSIANS!" A galvanized refugee roared with all his might, the crowd chanting loudly in return. The operation had backfired, turning even the most apathetic refugee against the military of Desham who had stolen their food. Gabriel's men quickly set up a makeshift blockade on the main street, and some of the refugees were trying to sprint past before the barricade could be set up.

Gabriel himself had to wrestle a refugee who managed to squirm past the gaps, pinning him down onto the ground while another guard restrained him with handcuffs. A weird, familiar smell came from the refugee's breath, even as he struggled against the restraints. Gabriel grabbed the refugee's face with his hands, trying to recognize the smell. "... meat? Mammoth hog meat? That's not possible, you can't hunt them regularly! Who gave you the meat?"

"Fuck if I know! They were giving it out for free just two hours ago. Now let me fucking go! I'm Versian, too!"

Someone is feeding them the meat. A mammoth hog isn't easy to take down, especially with the ragtag bunch of refugees. Gabriel's heart plummeted, afraid to learn that maybe Vicorn was right about the entire incident. He returned to his senses quickly, ignoring the refugee's pleading and ordering his troops to fan out. "Find out who's distributing the food and why! I want them caught and brought to me, now!"

The soldiers filtered out through the narrow lanes and alleyways between congested buildings built haphazardly, arresting anyone that came into sight and steadily blocking off the paths. Soon, a strong, delicious smell of roasted mammoth hog meat began to surround them, the aroma enticing. Even the soldiers were salivating from the smell, but they did not dare go against their orders. They soon spotted the source of the smell, a lone human slow-cooking the meat over an open fire made of a random assortment of firewood. The sanitary conditions were abysmal, but none of the three dozen refugees queuing up for their cut had any complaints.

The moment a refugee got a skewer or a piece of the meat, he chomped it down quickly before running off to join the crowd of refugees that were now trying to force their way through Gabriel's first barricade. The flanking soldiers tried to stop the lone human selling the meat, but it only made the queuing refugees angrier, most of them lashing out at the soldiers and turning the alleyway into a close-quarters brawl. Weapons were anything the refugees could get their hands on, mostly chunks of scrap metal, broken branches, or fragmented tent poles with a sharpened fired tip.

Gabriel began to receive reports from the various squads, countless guards suffering injuries or dying due to the overwhelming numbers of refugees. "Get every guard out here now, get them out here and hold the line! We can't let them further into Desham!"

More and more guards poured out from the garrisons, bolstering the forces until they achieved parity with the rioting refugees who kept trying to climb over the barricades. Anyone who made it across found themselves immediately arrested and restrained, or beaten unconscious so as not to present a threat. The riot went on for a few minutes, but Gabriel felt like he had been there for hours on end.

While the brawls were erupting all throughout the various alleyways, Gabriel felt that something was off, even as he visually saw someone distributing the meat to the burgeoning crowd of refugees. Are they feeding the refugees so they riot for them? If so... then these refugees must be a distraction. What is their end goal?

Realization dawned onto Gabriel, his head swivelling to quickly do a count of the soldiers. "How many guards are left back at the garrison?"

"Sir, I think there's only a dozen of them left. You asked for all of them to come out." The sergeant replied confusedly.

"We need to go back now. Take three squads and return before -"

Gabriel couldn't finish his sentence, not when he spotted a glint of metal fired from the walls of Desham, slamming into the armory of the garrison. Instantly, a loud, dazzling ball of flame erupted into the sky, the brightness of the explosion forcing him to shield his eyes. The resulting air shockwave rippled through the town of Desham as the ammunition and explosives within the armory all ignited as well, blowing up into a rapidly expanding pillar of smoke. Tainted glass windows of buildings, stores, and factories were shattered easily by the air shockwave, while weaker buildings began to collapse from the resulting tremors, unable to hold up their own weights with their crumbling and poorly maintained foundations.

He could feel the dull thud in his eardrums deafening him and his men, as well as the astonished refugees, all of whom cowered under the rushing air. As soon as he took another look at the garrison, the entire barracks and armory had been carved in half, the buildings and fortifications decimated by the immense explosion and sheer force.

None of the refugees chanted any longer nor tried to push, merely staring in surprise and shock at what had just happened. However, Gabriel knew exactly what had just happened. They sabotaged us!

Suddenly, a call rang out from deep within the crowd of refugees. "FORWARD! THEY HAVE NO MORE AMMUNITION! THE GARRISON HAS BEEN DESTROY! FOR FREEDOM!!!"

The galvanizing, invigorating call rang out sharp and clear, reminding the refugees what was happening now as the crowd began to push once more against the barricade, their efforts even more concerted than ever. The barricades threatened to topple over from the impact, forcing the guards to use their bodies to prop them up and resist the refugees' push. Morale among the soldiers had plummeted to an all-time low, and many of them were already thinking of ways to get out of this mess. With the barracks destroyed, Gabriel had now lost almost all hope of controlling the local populace, their authority marred by the inability to defend their own barracks.

"Sir, your orders! We can't hold this line any longer, we're going to be overrun! Sir? Sir!" A sergeant shouted at Gabriel desperately, who was still stunned in a stupor.

Gabriel's eyes turned towards the refugees, watching the countless faces shout and roar at him, wanting to tear apart Desham limb from limb. He could already imagine the bloodthirsty refugees seeking revenge on every city dweller in Desham. The faces of his wife and his son came into his mind as well, Gabriel knowing that if he did not stop them, his family may be in peril as well. I started this mess, but a simple apology wouldn't cut it either.

He wanted to curse the Governor, but he was the one who carried the operation out in the end. All he could think of was his son's beaming face back at his simple house, shining brightly in his memories.

"Mount the repeaters and wait for my signal," Gabriel ordered suddenly, snapping out of his stupor.

The desperate sergeant stared in shock, before blurting out. "Sir, you can't be serious! These are Versians, refugees or not! Such a command would-"

"Do you wish to be hanged, quartered, and flayed by them? Have you not seen the images and paintings of the original revolutionaries? Your family is waiting behind you, and we have no other recourse. Do you want to see them executed?!"

The sergeant’s words were stuck in his throat, gulping. Every guard here knew they would be immediately overrun by the rioting refugees and beaten to death if nothing changed. After all, that was what they had seen the original revolutionaries do to the nobility’s soldiers during the first revolution. It was part and parcel of a riot.

“Well?”

“N-no, sir.”

“THEN WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? I SAID: MOUNT ALL OF THEM!” Gabriel shouted for the first time in a long time, his desire to defend his family mounting to an all-time high.

The guards quickly hefted the large machine guns on the top of the driver cabin of each wagon, hooking up an arcite fuel pipe connected to the wagon tank. The guards who handled the machine gun and aimed down the barrel at the ravenous crowd were trembling, afraid of what would happen if they pulled the trigger. However, they were equally afraid of what would happen to them if they did not pull the trigger.”

“OPEN FIRE!”

<---Chapter 122 - Ruminations | Table of Contents |Chapter 124 - Path of Blood--->