Chapter 11Mature

This was only her first day and yet she hadn't faced this much resistance before. She had to protect the outlands. It was the only safe haven realtors had. The empire's brightest and smartest knew no assault on the outlands would be successful and yet the royals still moved in. It was as if the power that was expected for what they called "falses" to have a disadvantage. 

"Wait for them to show. Then we strike. Keep them in the outlands. Don't allow them to retreat. They want to take the fight to us then we'll kill them all. Rat bastards...they forced us to live here. They forced us to be subclassed to them. No longer. No, not this time. When someone is sick and tired of being sick and tired that is the time to act!"

Those cold words would have made someone think that a royal was speaking and not one of the realtors. But lately even the empire's enemies were growing more and more blood thirsty. Playing with kid gloves isn't wise against a mature thinking foe. That was why the empire's thorn had to bring in people who would do what others didn't have the sickness to do.

The realtors needed those who would be calculated in aggression and twice as twisted in the mind than anyone in the ranks of the royals. That was exactly the group that was assembled. Each had their own different background, vices, and certainly possessed a different degree and array of abilities.

The outlands were split into three sections; the commons, the forest and the garage. Only the middle class lived in the commons. People of the wild lived in the forest in little huts and were primarily hunters and gathers. As for the garage there wasn't much to say except that it was meant for those who were discarded due to permanent and crippling injury or illness, old age or a combination of both. Most of the ready forces came from the commons while the wild cards came from the forest region.

What seemed to be a very small squad turned out to be a force to be reckoned with. The royals came onto their land which gave the realtors the home field advantage. They knew the area better than the empire did. After all, they were all forced to live here in exile due to their label as being a false.

As far as realtor living space went the commons looked just like any neighborhood in the empire. There were homes, schools, local businesses and everything. In fact, the only difference between this place and the empire was that the empire had a much large economy. With this area looking rather nice it was a bit weird to see what could only be described as a group of really upset looking people who all wanted to fight. At the forefront was only a few radicals who thought only of rebellion against the empire.

"We must send a message to those who oppress us that we shall no longer be oppressed! Who's with me?!" shouted an enraged believer.

"Yeah! We should go to the royals and take the fight to them!" shouted another.

"We have the weapons! We have the power! All we need to do is strike when the striking is good!" yelled one more.

The crowd shouted in unison in agreement. Well, most of them did. Three in the crowd didn't share the same optimism. They didn't look like the rest. In fact, their dress would almost symbolize them being apart of the royal army themselves. But everybody knew better. Everybody knew who this trio was. They were the equalizers. All three were once soldiers but defected because their either became the false the empire hated so much or just didn't want to be apart of the cruelty.

One of them stepped forward. It was a man dressed in all black. From head to toe he looked like one of those bad boy types. His neck was riddled with jewelry which were mostly inside down holy crosses. The only part of his attire that didn't look like it was straight out of a gothic halloween shop was the ever constant cigarette that hanged from his lip. When the light from the cancer stick expired he would only pull out a steel plated lighter and light up another. His skin was bronze. The complexion was fitting for the metal unholy cross emblem fused into his black leather jacket.

"And then what?" the dark man asked. He sighed, shook his head, put out the dying cigarette and brought fire to yet another cigarette. "You're going to just keep fighting? That's what you'll do? When would the fighting end? You say you can win. You claim you win. You profess that you can win. You believe you can win. But believe, profession, words and all that other senseless bullshit doesn't amount to reality. The reality I speak of is the fact that you can never defeat the empire. Sure, with my help and," he stopped in the middle of his sentence and pointed to the two people behind him and then faced his stare back to the crowd. "And their help I'm sure we can take down the best the empire has to throw at us. But it'd never end there. You can kill a person all you want to. It's the idea that is our main enemy," he explained.

"See? See what happens when you trust royal soldiers? They've turned on us! They won't help!" That was the cry coming from a random member of the crowd. The people turned to the three, stared with angry looks and the nasty thoughts, if such thoughts could be heard, would be unpleasant.

Another person stepped forward. This time it was a woman. She looked to be Hispanic in heritage. That black hair of hers was long where it covered most of her back. She wore very tight jeans. The black combat boots she wore was strapped up tight. From her neck hanged dog tags that she acquired from her service in the royal army. Her chest wear was nothing more than a black tee shirt that covered a moderately large bust line. Her left arm was riddled with battle scars. Her right eye being a clear blue color from being slashed in combat and was accompanied by a long diagonal scar coming through the same right eye, eyebrow and down to the right cheek. The real unusual feature about this woman was her right arm which looked to be made of some sort of silver colored metal.

The woman spoke. "We didn't say we wouldn't help you. What we're saying is that we don't want to get involved in a senseless, winless war. I would love nothing more than to destroy the royals and to help you all gain back your dignity, honor and, for once in your lives, some damn respect. But you all are becoming the very same enemy that you say you hate so much. Hatred isn't the answer. Believe me, I tried to fight with hate. I didn't even count myself as human when I was a royal knight. Don't become me. Please, listen to reason," she begged.

Disappointment was the cause of the booing and harsh words more so than the rebellion against the kingdom. This woman and her comrades were the targets since no royal knights or the guard was not present at the time. These people were supposed to lead the east side rebellion. Lately, these former knights decided not to step into a whole lot of fights. Instead, simply maintaining the ground that the falses already gained was the focus. The people didn‘t like this at all.

“As much as you guys may not like what she’s saying she has a point. Quite frankly, we aren’t in a position to launch an offensive in our state.”

That voice came from somebody within the crowd. Another woman was the creator of the words. This person was clearly a knight before. She even wore a torn up and alternated version of the Royal Knight Air Corp. Her black fighter pilot jumpsuit uniform was torn down the middle in a “V” shape with the sides of her black bra showing. Her boots were a little too large for her feet but the footgear was strapped down to her legs. In fact, her boots carried leg straps that wrapped around her legs and came all the way to her waist with belt buckles security apparatuses. She whipped her neck back and allowed her blonde hair to move with the tiny breeze that came and she removed the black goggles covering those crystal blue eyes.

The dark man started to get upset. “Look! We don’t have to do anything! We can all just go our separate ways and leave you to fend for yourselves! Did we do that to you? Haven’t you trusted us thus far? Why would we lead you astray now? Hmm? Because we’re asking you all to make difficult choices? We all made difficult choices. Here, let me prove that to you!”

This guy was clearly the leader of the group. He showed that when he pulled out a serviceman’s record called a “timeline.” He waved it around and held it up in faces. The man was none other than General Brunson himself. He wasn’t just any knight. He was the greatest of all of the knights in history. If one talked about a decorated soldier Brunson would have to be in the conversation. This knight fought more wars than any other person could ever fight and was regarded as one of the most powerful sponsored human beings to ever walk the planet.

All the others followed suit. Even the small boy who looked like a mechanical imp pulled out a service record. Almost all of these people were knights and not just guard members with the exception of the blue woman. Even in her case she was a highly ranked non-commissioned officer.

The people grew quiet. They stopped questioning. These men and women gave up their lives, their rank, their years of service, honor, dignity, life of service and their clean criminal records just to support a cause that they all believed in. The crowd respected all of these traitors but respected Brunson more so than any of them. If anyone saw the salary and pay he gave up just to become one of the most wanted men by the law a reasonable person would question him as to why he did it.

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“How much more do you want us all to suffer?”

“When does it end?”

Question after question was posed. Brunson had a frustrated look on his face.

“Believe me, if you all knew what I knew you’d realize that this fight is bigger than any of you could imagine,” was all he could say before turning to leave. The rest of his squad followed suit. All of these former knights and guardsmen would help the people but none were willing to hear the ideas that would be futile in the end.

The End

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