[centre][hr] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181108/62285f4ab6caabf9e7936d051c2d8c80.png[/img] [sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 27th - [b]Awakening[/b][/i][/color][/sub] [hr][/centre] [color=Silver] The chair beneath her withering body was close to collapsing, falling apart from its shoddy craftsmanship that had been blended by the aggression of the war surrounding it. Every time her body moved, the entire seat creaked and tilted in place. Had she not already been sat there for seven hours, she'd likely had escaped it out of sheer effort. However, whilst her legs were still firmly in place and her rear-end remained planted against its maleficent wooden structure, she did not dare to move away. From outside of her temporary holding cell, Middleton could be heard dealing with more military matters that refused to leave him alone. Lieutenant after lieutenant, captain after captain, major after major, even two colonels paid their visage. Lucia sometimes listened in, hoping to garner some sort of information out of the situation outside. She'd been training with her Captain ever since Jean's squad had reunited with the entire Federation liberation force here in Amone. Now, all she could wish for was either the sweet release from her confinement to find the ones she'd began to grow attached towards or the announcement of the upcoming battle. Middleton seemed highly impressed by certain stories Lucia told of, despite the disappointing circumstances. Her ferocity in combat had been unleashed only once upon two assaulting personnel. An act of defence, nonetheless, but one that spoke of the confident and quick-thinking nature of her tutor. Under the threat of someone's gunsight was the likely trigger for her survivor's instinct, but it wasn't enough to start warranting the perfect soldier that everyone envisioned. She was required to be able to go on the offensive, pursue the enemy into the bleak with the same ferocity as she'd shown before. There couldn't be any hesitation. She had to be prepared to pull the trigger again and again. Lucia's expression was that of an empty husk. Recently, all of her effort was put into thinking. It was all that she could do: think. Finding what kept her alive was a difficult search. Previously, it had been the 21st Edinburgh Fusiliers that were her purpose. She gave them life on a frontline that only saw darkness. She played games with the younger guys, sang songs for the older men, nurtured the elder women and comforted the mutually aged girls. She [i]was[/i] a beacon of hope, and yet now what was she? Back when Middleton hadn't snapped, blaming himself for every unforeseeable consequence of the 21st's final battle. Thousands dead, in the blink of an eye. And when that happened, the man she looked up to was destroyed alongside them. What remained now was Captain Middleton; a different breed of national hero who emphasised brutal tactics to get results. Whilst his morals were still there, he knew that the only way to victory was to keep advanced strategies updated and to break the spirits of the Imperial 'menace' that had taken everything from him. Lucia never understood what happened back then. Days after her fifteenth birthday, all the faces she saw and knew were split from their necks and shoulders. It was a...massacre.[/color] [hr] [color=Orange][b]"H-holy shit...keep the fire up on that left flank. Richards, resupply the emma'gee now!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Thousands screamed out in torment, barking orders as they were funnelled into the most brutal of traps. Once their mass charge had began, the Empire had assaulted the lines they'd charged from, encircling the entire regimental strike force in one fell-swoop. And now...they were trapped, in No Man's Land. Hundreds took shelters in old dugouts, artillery craters, bombed out shell holes, amongst the unburied corpses that littered the world, amidst fallen trees, cowering withing the debris of old trench lines and whatever the dead-man's homestretch offered. Lucia's head was buried under Middleton's arm, who moved slowly throughout the piles of panicking soldiers. The pressure was being ever-the-more pressed upon their feeble positions. What was originally four miles of encircled territory was now minimised to less than a kilometre. This was no longer a charge, or a simply push into the heart of the enemy's territory; they'd fallen into the blunders of the Imperial strategic geniuses, finalising themselves into the pockets of destruction. This was a last stand. Lucia's eyes burned as the sights of those she'd grown to love were splintered by their hopelessness. There must've been at least two companies worth of soldiers left, still grasping on to their little breathing room.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Richards! Richards, for fuck sake I said get that-"[/b][/color] [color=Yellow][b]"'E's caught a blighter, Sergeant! I'll g-grab Rogers to come and take the position!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Explosions rattled their helmets and every second was littered with the endless peppering of bullets, shrapnel and dust. Smoke scattered the battlefield and the mid-Autumn rain continued to brutalise the world around them. Lucia scrambled across the muddy floor, her small and frail composure being the only advantage she held against avoiding being shot. Her scramble was exhausting all the energy out of her. Why was she out here in the first place? Middleton was not the man who'd ordered her to join the fight. In all honesty, he'd had no idea about it at all. It was when the first Imperial counter attack struck, swinging around and encompassing the entire regimental strike force into their exemplified pocket. It was here that Lucia's nerve finally struck, and she sought to act as a brave girl; her goal was to finally live up to the expectations of all her comrades. Hundreds of men and women were trapped in the now constricting battlefield, and someone had to let them know about the encirclement. Someone [i]had[/i] to ensure everyone knew so a breakout could be attempted. Pushing further would just expend supplies and energy, ammunition and needless lives that were now scarce to begin with. Lucia had never set a foot on the battlefield, or ever outside the trenches of the frontline. This...this was her first doing, the first pursuit of courage which ended up disintegrating into naivety. As the artillery struck, and the bombs fell from the Imperial sturmtruppen's pockets, she scaled the ladder as soon as someone screamed for a runner to take position and pass information onto the advancing forces ahead. Lucia did it. She volunteered herself without a second thought, never realising the consequences of her actions. Middleton was everything she had at that time. Alexander was her guardian, her soul reason to be alive. She stormed over the steps of her trench and rushed into the fray, running for what could've been an entire kilometre. The largest stretch of No Man's Land ever recorded, seemingly, had been cleared only to allow advancing space. She ran. The bullets could be heard behind her, spouting from the barrels of their guns. She dared not to look back. Her mind was set. And yet where did it land her? Into the fray of hell's own manifestation, that's where. And yet here she was. The message was passed on but little could be done. Lieutenant Middleton was forced to find a way out, but the only breakthrough attempt was squashed immediately. Now, it was a last stand. They'd said their prayers and loaded their guns. Shots rang out for an hour. A whole hour. When their guns ran dry, they skewered their enemy with bayonets, stealing their rifles after. And when those rifles ran dry, they took rocks, their fists, axes, shovels and whatever they could muster to break the advancing opposition. Lucia cowered, her eyes immediately being rinsed with blood as soon as she arrived. Why...why had she pursued them? She saw Alexander, revolver tightly clenched between his fingers, the wire around his wrist, putting shot after shot into every direction he could. He dove between foxholes, narrowly avoiding mortar shells and grenades being flung their way. Bodies were churned into pieces. Pools of blood forged where those were struck and the defenders began to break in spirit. Some took to their weapons, hoping that in the Valkyrur's unyielding spirit that they were to be blessed in the afterlife. Others were sanctioned to torment, cowering in holes surrounded by their fighting brothers in arms. Some silently looked at photos of their families. Lucia had been there for an hour now. She'd seen at least two hundred dead bodies, or men and women in the process of dying. Now, she sat in her own foxhole and prayed, hearing the screams all around her. The sounds of Imperial gunfire was getting closer and closer each minute, constricting them like the viper of war.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Fuckin' hell! Someone give me a round! Give me a stupid fucking bulle-"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]The regimental Sergeant's neck was split across the sides, shattered in a burst of blood and ache. His vocal chords were struck cold, and the body collapsed onto the floor. His pained face landed next to Lucia's feet, the emotionless eyes silently screaming out to her in their fleeting vision. Lucia shrieked in fear, pushing herself rearwards away from the familiar face. An arm clamped down onto her collar.[/color] [color=0AB100][b]"Lucia, get into this dugout now!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Alexander flipped her over, their faces able to meet as he pointed to the now exposed remains of an old sentry dugout. Despite the order, Alexander was only replied with through static expressions and a constant shudder of fear. For the first time since they met, Lucia sparked a sudden aggression within his voice. The battle cry of his voice was faint, angered by the anguish that surrounded the entire regiment he so dearly cared about. Alexander twisted and turned, pulling Lucia across the mud carefully as he kept his head low down. Both were essentially flat on their stomachs, dragging themselves across the very blood soaked mud they'd used as cover for the past hour. The dugout was close by, but its traversing distance felt like an eternity. Each burst of gunfire slowed them down and the flickering of soil shooting up into the air whenever a bullet came close forced Middleton to take his time.[/color] [color=Red][b]"Sir, the enemy are right on our doorstep! We ain't got breathin' room now!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]A nearby Corporal shouted, trying to land his last few shots onto the now closing-in sturmtruppen. Their uniforms were now becoming clear. Grenades were expended and now the final fight came down to unleashing their upmost aggression. For them, it was like shooting fish in a blood-soaked barrel, knowing very well that soon they were out of ammunition and down to only their body's strength.[/color] [color=0AB100][b]"Hold your ground, we can find a way out of this!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]To little to no avail, Alexander tried to keep the spirits of his declining forces up and high, despite knowing the hopelessness of his situation. His breath was heavy, fast and unresting.[/color] [color=Gold][b]"N-no way, this is it, chaps! I don't want to die like-"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]The interrupted pleas of the men and women were cut short. Finally, the descending vultures were upon them. Their numbers had declined below triple digits, and it was only a matter of time before it would finally end. The boots were heard coming closer. Lucia tried to contain her tears but let them flow out, letting her rifle hang by the sling behind her as Middleton tried to rush for the dugout. There, he was intercepted by the butt of a rifle, where he was tackled to the ground. A struggle quickly erupted between the two as the Imperial soldier kept him pinned, struggling to restrain the officer enough to put an end to him. Lucia watched in panic, fear enriching her very soul. Never before had she felt fear like this, even on the day she discovered her parents' demise. This was a bloodbath. She tried to reach for her rifle, instincts once again taking control of her, yet she could not find her strength to aim it up, point it towards the aggressor and to pull the trigger. Her mind could not muster the courage. She instead stared, seeing Alexander ruthlessly punched despite his intent to survive. Alexander failed to draw his knife, before being pinned down. The Imperial soldier seemed to notice something peculiar about the man he was fighting, suddenly beginning to physically thrust his fist into his skull again. This was no meagre soldier to kill, but an officer of the ranks. In his grasp! The promotions and medals that could come from it! Instead, the Imperial soldier finished Alexander's consciousness off with one last slam of his fist, before quickly moving to drag him away. Lucia felt herself growing even more helpless and tried to pursue, only to feel the stock of another rifle bash against her own face...where everything went black.[/color] [hr] [color=silver] Lucia sat in her crooked chair, her mind furiously questioning the past. Everything on that day went wrong. The friends she'd made were gone. Her inability to pull the trigger...all it did was result in Alexander, herself and four surviving soldiers to be captured by the Empire. Nearly two months of captivity. Lucia never liked to think about it. The shouting elderly men with canes and swords strapped to their belts; all of them were aggressively pressing them for information. Lucia couldn't utter any words out of fear and naivety, unsure of what information they wanted. Every question they asked was met with confusion and tears. It wasn't surprising that the Imperial captors eventually took pity on the clearly below-age girl, eventually separating her from the interrogation programmes set up on the other soldiers. Three were shot. Alexander, a familiar Private and Lucia were left to rot in the dugouts of Imperial trenches for seven weeks. Each day, Alexander became more and more broken. They'd walk him across No Man's Land, towards the soldiers that were slaughtered next to him, and make him stare at their bodies for hours on end. They would tell him that his information was vital, and that more like them would die if he did not spill information about upcoming assaults. Alexander stood strong and held his ground, at the cost of the last thing he held dear. His sanity. After then, the escape eventually conducted by Alexander forced Lucia and the other Private into a frantic pursuit across the previously lost lands of the Asseni warzone. Two days of hiding, crawling and scavenging eventually took them back to the Federation, and all were changed. The Private was sent home with several medals and accommodations, whilst the Lieutenant and Lucia were both slugged into the trains and trucks of the Federation's war machine and debriefed. Within days, Middleton returned to the front, eventually being granted a new commanding position in another regiment. Lucia was never given the choice, for she was now Middleton's. Whatever they did to Middleton changed him. He never saw Lucia as a daughter anymore, or so he seemed to think. Every second they spent together was him building her up for something bigger, something that Lucia didn't know or understand. She was trained to shoot, trained to kill and trained to sacrifice her very dignity for the ones she would love. And yet, here she was. The first kills she'd made were for one she held close to her heart: Private Michael Daunte. The nearby explosion barely shook her from her muse. Lucia paid no homage to the explosion nor to any of the soldiers now frantically running around asking questions. Alexander popped his head inside and ordered her to remain on the premises for a while longer whilst he investigated the extremely violence that had been unleashed upon their homebase. And all the while this happened, Lucia sat and thought to herself about what she really was.[/color]