Chapter One: Memories
"You know the punishment for rebellion, don't you Dameon?"
"I'm fairly sure we all know: 'break the glass and kill all the fags that don't agree'." Replied Dameon, quoting a famous rebel leader he had fought alongside for months.
At this, the officer became enraged. He took out his Colt 45. still in perfect condition since WWII. Dameon looks at the officer straight in the eyes and says two words, two words that he knew oh so well, two words that would change his life forever. Dameon, gulped, looked around, and saw Marceline shake her head in the large crowd surrounding the punishment stage. He ignored her and said exactly this:
A bullet went through Dameon's head that day.
Five Months Earlier...
It was hard for Dameon to imagine what it was before the bombings, he was just a kid. He remembered the tear gas, the militias, even the bullet casing that killed his mother roll under the bed with him. 45. caliber. He remembered these things but, nothing else, and he wondered why, why can't he remember that night, and why he could remember the week after.
"Dameon? Hey, wake up kid, it's your birthday." Marceline's voice in the entrance to his medical tent.
He sat up, and saw they moved him into another field hospital again, it was the same old crap. Small, green tent, no floor but grass, and a table next to every bed. He still wondered why they used the man-power to get actual beds out here, but he definitely wasn't complaining.
"Wait, November 5th already?" Dameon asked
"No, February 67th." Marceline said, being sarcastic of course.
"Smart girl. Anyways, thanks. 19 now right?"
"Yeah. Are you alright? It's alarming when you don't ask for troop movement boards when you wake." said Marceline, in actual concern. Dameon grinned at this.
"Well then, where are our armies and troop positions? Back to business." He said, opening up a holo-map next to his bed.
Marceline walked over and grabbed a headset.
"Requesting movement transfer. Dameon is up again."
"Yeah, request going through. Marceline, how are you? Tell him Dameon I said happy birthday." says the operator Marceline had known since she first joined this fight.
"I'm doing fine Mae, oh, and I will tell him. Thanks."
Dameon nods in recognition, still in deep focus. He looks closer, and sees that something has gone horribly wrong. He pulls up the real-time image of their defense along what used to be Washington. The flak cannons are offline... suddenly blips start appearing on the close range radar.
"Shit." Dameon starts frantically pounding away at the keys.
"What? What is it?" Marceline asks, rushing over.
"Our cannons are down in sector 1. Dropships. We need Air-Superiority over there now! Get command on the line."
Marceline runs over to the table where she set the headset down.
"I need a direct line to command, now! Alpha, Zelda, Bravo, we have multiple dropships inbound in sector 1, get your asses off the ground and move! Bravo 12, M.E.R.C., get your dropship loaded with your men and get the hell down there! Diamond-Sword, heavy dropships will be ready for you in 5, equip mechs with Purifiers and Hellfire missiles, go!"