Part 1: First Days
Univeristy Housing district, Miloscar City, Miloscar State
Roman Zejda (Ro to his friends), son of a Catholic priest, was usually a reserved and erudite fellow; he had a university permit issued to him by the central government to study Theology since his father was a priest. With a little negotiation with the dean he had switched over to philosophy and ethics but tonight he was not hunched over a book as one would usually find him.
Instead he sat in his state-allocated room on a phone he wasn't meant to own, watching a social media feed that if he was caught using would land him in prison or worse, his interest in current affairs (and his unrequited love of internet memes) made this worthwhile however. The news was coming in thick and fast; Jan Neužil, the current Miteravian Dictator-President, had won his second term in office.
He flicked on the dilapidated television to see the national media's biased view.
'A Momentous occasion for Miteravia has unfolded here today!' The Reporter exclaimed. She continued on showing the high voter counts and approval ratings with graph after graph and photo after photo of ecstatic civilians.
'LIES ALL OF IT' Roman yelled at the television set in futility. He angrily stood from his bed and forcefully pushed the off button on the television set. The silence left behind the noise of the television allowed Roman to hear better than he had whilst he was browsing his illegal social media account; for now he could here a voice. A lone voice, echoing in from outside his window.
The aged window frame lifted, enough for Roman to stick his head out the window to see how was shouting in the middle of the day. The sight he saw before him dumbfounded. A man walked down the middle of the thin street, blocking the traffic, with a pillowcase with a hole cut for his mouth over his head, screaming all kinds of profanity. The pillowcase-headed man shouted with his arms outstretched, called for the death of the Neužil regime over and over.
"He must be drunk", Roman thought to himself.
A car pulled over in the street, a man got out and ran over to the protester trying to quiet him down, probably so the Guard didn't hear him, since if he was caught saying any of what he was saying he'd be hung in the city square. Pedestrians were walking up to observe the commotion, the cars honked their horns and the residents of the road, like Roman had stuck their heads out the window to watch.
Another pillowcase-headed fellow came dancing out a side street, jumping up and down joining in with the cries of the first man that hadn't yet been successfully silenced.
Five or so minutes had passed and now the street had come to a standstill, with cars abandoned in the road and maybe 100 or so people stood outside with a range of household objects obscuring their faces. Another 100 or so people were peppered throughout the crowd trying to quieten them, which was failing dismally. Roman's phone buzzed. He picked it up, reading the message. It was a notification from a news app of his. It read 'Protesters take to the streets all over Miteravia, fighting the election results.', was this what he was witnessing he thought. No the article showed protests of people numbered in their thousands in every major city. He thought momentarily of his family back in Semily, his father and his sister, at least they would be safe in the small village. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed the meat knife, he pulled a spare pillowcase from his cupboard and walked out into the street.
What Ro didn't know is that his father and older sister had taken a day trip to Gwyza, one of the largest cities in Western Miteravia, in anticipation of the election results. Roman's father, Reverend Swen Zejda, had a very deep set hatred for the Neužil. His brother, Ro's uncle, was killed in the Spring Uprising and his wife, Ro's mother, had died after being beaten by a member of the National Guard just after Ro was born because she refused his sexual advances. Three factions formed in the first few days; in the West with Swen and Karolin (Ro's father and sister) were the Western Freedom League or WFL, in a few isolated cities there was the Communist Workers' Union or CWU and then throughout the country there was the Freedom and Liberty Alliance or FLA of which Ro was a member. The revolution had begun on the 9th of November, the day Ro saw a crazed pillowcase-helmeted man, by the 11th the National Guard was fully deployed, causing a full scale civil conflict with 2500 already dead or seriously injured.
The night of the 12th would live in infamy forever, in the town of Pracht in the south of Miteravia the CWU had taken control. At 3am the outlying sentry posts fell silent on the radio. A yellow-green cloud had drifted into the town bringing with it a stench of bleach, only death followed in its wake. Nearly 200kg of weapons grade chlorine gas had been release upwind of Pracht by the Neužil forces, the town had a population 86,000 and 2,000 CWU militants. There were 1,176 civilians and 85 Militants that survived, according to a communique sent out by the CWU moments before The Guard moved into the town and slaughtered the survivors. The Pracht Massacre was over by 6am, with the sun barely on the horizon. Two days later the CWU had taken sufficient casualties that they joined as a branch of the FLA, whom had made nothing but territorial gains since the beginning of the conflict. FLA forces moved into to bolster CWU strongholds, halting any Neužil advances. The FLA with the CWU under its wing now had a manpower of around 135,000 armed militants, although armaments ranged from stolen Neužil assault rifles down to kitchen knives and baseball bats. The National Guard numbered only around 100,000 at the beginning of the conflict but casualties and deserters had rapidly shrunk the number to 90,000 by the 15th. The WFL however only numbered around 22,000 armed with even less than the FLA, they were also isolated with their backs to the coast. The Neužil forces knew all this so on the 16th of November a vicious counterattack struck in the west.
40,000 Neužil Guardsmen, armed with artillery and vehicles attacked the WFL-held city of Luboń, around 8,000 WFL soldiers were stationed there. Of the 8,000 one was Ro's dad and one was Ro's sister. By the end of the second day, half the rebels lay dead in the city although they had taken around 6000 Guardsmen with them. This was the bloodiest day recorded in the entire conflict.
Part 2: Fall of the West
WFL Barracks, Luboń Suburbs, West Miteravia State
Early morning came and Karolin Zejda awoke in the makeshift barracks to the smell of a swimming pool.
'Dad.' She said trying to wake her father. 'Dad, Gas!' She exclaimed. He jolted awake and sat straight up.
'We've gotta go.' He said turning to his daughter. 'Raise the alarm, God damn.'
A few of the other rebels had awoken to the commotion and the smell. A cry of 'Gas, Gas, Gas' went up into the air as all hell broke loose.
The Zejdas rushed outside into the low light of the early morning. The horizon glowed a faint yellowy green.
'Karolin!' Swen yelled, 'Get to a truck, get out of here and find your brother.'
'Dad, what about you, you're coming with me.' She retorted, still standing in the street, watching the gas cloud grow closer.
'Just damn go, they need me here.' He shouted over the sound of the artillery barrage that had just increased its intensity.
She ran to him and grabbed his wrist, 'No, you're coming with me!'
He shook free of her and shouted 'Listen to me just this once, go!'
The explosions were getting louder and closer.
The Zedja's squad leader, Hans, came over to them.
'Revered, you're needed on 18th street, Karolin you're coming with me!' The burly man ordered.
Karolin looked at her father and he nodded. Hans and Karolin set off for the machine gun emplacements that blocked the access down the main street, they began setting more and more landmines to slow the enemy advance so they could retreat and put some ground between them and the Guard. Forty minutes of setting landmines under heavy shelling and sniper fire and the job was done.
'We're heading to the truck depot on 41st and Gwyza-strasse and getting the hell out of here.' Hans announced to the squad.
'What about my dad?' Karolin asked.
'He'll be right behind us, there's enough vehicles for everyone so as soon as 18th is secured we can leave.'
'Fine lets go.'
The group all but sprinted the half-mile to the truck depot. There was maybe another hundred yards to go to the truck when an artillery shell exploded behind them, knocking Karolin unconscious. When she awoke she was in a moving truck, an arm less than she would have hoped. The blast had sent shrapnel through her left forearm, obliterating it. She had said after meeting up with Ro in Miloscar she did not remember any of the journey. She would die of septicemia on Christmas day of 2016. Ro's and Her father's body was never found and it was assumed he was killed during the battle either by the shelling, the gas or the Neužil death squads that roamed the streets after. The WFL had been destroyed, but the horrors of the battles had embolden the FLA and turned Roman Zejda from a university student into a vengeance-seeking rebel.
