Hello everyone! Well, I'm in a profoundly good mood today because not only was I able to get a copy of Fallout 4 but my cousin Nick let me use his Xbox One to play it. I'll tell you, everything I've heard about the game pales in comparison to actually playing it for once. The changes they made to the game since Bethesda released New Vegas are rather profound.
The graphics are flawless, the weapons incredible, the modifications near limitless, and the enemies, whew, let's just say the first time I encountered feral ghouls in the game my heart damn near leapt out of my chest at the way they were redesigned.
I'll say this, if any of you guys who read my stories have an Xbox One or PS4 or prefer PC games and are considering getting Fallout 4, I urge you to do it because, like with any game that has the Bethesda Softworks mark, you won't be disappointed.
Well anyway, you guys aren't here to hear me sing Bethesda's praises (although given my current mood I could do it all day). On with the story!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 58: Resistance: Code Black
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Ramatalia Memorial Hospital, named after the famous battlefield doctor and nurse duo who founded the modern Syllian Medical Corps, was practically besieged. Through the scope, George could see that forces from the OAC had arrayed forces alomg the south side of the hospital and the Army had been forced to get off their asses and turn the low-caliber cannons on the nearby North Gate fortress, Northkeep, around to aim at the north face of the hospital.
Panicked doctors and patients had hung huge white sheets painted with red crosses out the large windows, reminding the OAC and Army that the building they were aiming at was a hospital. The Army had balked and pulled back but the OAC had stepped in to keep the barricade tight. It was obvious to George that the OAC was not about to show hesitation about attacking a hospital. On the south side of the hospital, the OAC had moved six captured medium tanks and had set sharpshooters on top of the armored vehicles with orders to shoot anyone who stuck their head out of a window or tried to escape.
George and the Partisans had arrived too late to save some ten patients and one doctor who, seeing the north side blocked off, tried to run out the back and were cut to pieces. The lobby was then effectively sealed off with whatever the doctors and nurses could grab to barricade the doors.
Shifting his sights, George saw an officer wearing the uniform of the OAC come up with a transmitter in hand.
"Attention in the hospital! This is Major Fruied of the OAC. We have no quarrel with most of you in the building. If you turn over all those currently recovering who are members of the Partisans and the doctors and nurses who are willingly treating them, no others will be harmed." The officer pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat and then started reading it.
"The doctors and nurses we seek are all on this list: Doctor Gordon Fayce, Cardiology; Doctors Emily and Edward Samuels, Surgery; Doctor Thomas Graham, Neurology; Nurses May Colde, Betty Earnstead, Cori Wells, Melissa Fay Bowers and Angela Rivers."
George paled and froze. He was aware of Caldor, Miles, and a few others that knew him and knew of recent events in the castle pre-occupation eying him worriedly. He was also aware of the faces of a few others looking to him and he turned to them.
"Angela Rivers... she was the nurse who took care of George de Launces. Word was that they were an item. He would have proposed to her if the city hadn't been occupied. I had hoped she had made it out of the city." The Partisans nodded and then turned back and listened as the officer rattled off a list of names of patients, actually calling a few Partisans currently in the hopsital with injuries. George gazed around and then saw a young Partisan with a rifle and motioned him over.
"How good a shot are you with that rifle?" The young man smiled.
"As good as I need to be. You want me to tell that bastard to shut up, permenately?" George nodded.
"Wait until we get our soldiers with the bazookas and grenades in position to take out the armor and the large clusters of troops. Once I give the signal, you shoot first, and then we unload eveything and the kitchen sink on those OAC bastards. Once we got them distracted, Miles' unit will enter the hospital, secure our forces and any others who might be in danger and then get them out. It's going to be a tall order but we have to pull it off." He looked around.
"The OAC has a list, that means they know the names of the people but not what they look like. What's to stop them from just killing the remaining innocents in the hospital and claiming them as sympathizers or rebels? We have to get as many out as we can." The men and women around him nodded and then split into their assigned groups. George looked over to someone he remembered from a few days ago and motioned him over.
"Monk, I need you to get to Barnabus. Get the Runners to help us if you can. We'll need both one hell of a distraction and a quick escape."
Monk was the Partisan's liason with Barnabus Sonone, the Living Legend, and the Resistance group founded in a sub-level of his garage, the Runners. Former racers forced to quit due to both the war and the occupation. They were known for lightning fast, high risk hit-and-run raids on Occupation installations. Notably just four days ago a member of the Runners led six vehicles of the OAC on a wild chase through the Industrial sector, crashed through the weakly defended south checkpoint, then led them into a joint Runner/Partisan ambush near another V1/V2 site the Rotarians were hurrying to set up.
Needless to say the entire base was razed with only three casualties to the Runners and none to the Partisans. The Occupation forces suffered far worse.
As Monk vanished down the manhole, George returned his attention to the OAC forces and then gazed around, trying to see his divided forces. The sniper was taking cover in an abandoned apartment building nearby on the fourth floor with a clear line of sight. The men hefting the bazookas, Armored fists, and grenade belts were taking cover near the large embankment of trees and other assorted foliage intended to beautify the hospital surroundings. Miles' group of seven were already at the far end awaiting the signal to charge in through the front doors.
He took a deep breath, cocked the hammer on the flare gun in his hand, and fired a blue flare high into the air. The flare whistled upwards and exploded high above the OAC forces who all gazed upwards to look at the flare and then looked to see where it had been fired from. A lone Partisan holding the flag of Launces, white and blue with a two gold stars, rose and started waving it back and forth. Near to him, George rose, weapon in hand.
"Partisans of Launces! Rise and Fight!"
The sniper fired, the round flying true and stricking the OAC officer neatly between the eyes. As he fell backward, the bazookas opened fire, impacting three of the six tanks. The fourth bazooka had fired but the round had failed to detonate but still knocked it out of the fight. Armored fists finished the remaining tanks and the grenades were thrown into the crowd of Rotarian soldiers who, by now, were panicked at the ambush and trying to frantically ready their weapons.
No sooner had a Rotarian soldier got off a hastily aimed round from his rifle than the Partisans, each armed with the M7A submachinegun and now freed from their heavy explosives, opened fire, raking the Rotarians with a hail of .45 caliber rounds. The Partisans, having assembled a small force of sixteen, seven of whom were with Miles' group, were outnumbered by the some thirty Rotarian OAC troops but managed to cut down twelve in the surprise attack. The remainder of the OAC forces, once they got their wits about them, started exchanging fire with the Partisans.
A bullet from a Rotarian rifle whizzed by George's head close enough the wind stirred his hair, forcing him to drop to a kneeling position and level his own M7 at the OAC and fired a burst, severely wounding a rifleman trying to sight in one of the Partisans in Miles' group running for the hospital.
A Rotarian soldier tried to pull the pin from a grenade only to have the sniper shoot the grenade, detonating it. A marksman still on one of the burning tanks tried to countersnipe but was killed by a burst of gunfire from a Partisan among the ranks. Then, by some miracle for the Rotarians, the tank that had been hit by the failed bazooka round started up and slowly turned left to face the Resistance.
Seeing the tank, he cursed and wished that Zafra or Caldor had been here but, as Caldor was injured and Zafra still at the hydroplant, plus, being this far inside the city, a dragon on the wing would have been a sitting duck for the anti-air positions and a dead givaway to anyone looking up and would have likely brought reinforcements from all over the city.
The tank opened fire with the main gun, striking the embankment and wounding two of the men taking cover there and killing another. The machineguns on the right side, having no other targets, started firing at the hospital, shattering windows and trying to kill anyone watching the battle unfold. A loud motor got George's attention and he saw six vehicles come flying around the corner.
The lead vehicle was a steamcar of sorts that had been hastily fitted with armor, a machinegun fitted turret on top, and what sounded like a bigger, beefier engine. The car stopped, almost comically beside the tank's left side (the side that was disabled because of the failed round), a armor piece flipped up and he saw an arm pitch something through the hole in the armor before the machinegun on top started shooting and the car hastily peeled out again, tires squeeling and smoking. Moments later, an explosion ripped the top hatch off the tank, and fireballs blew out from the top and the left hole.
The tank's left tread, now damaged beyond repair, snagged and the tanks started to turn. In the heat of the moment, no OAC soldier noticed the tank was a runaway until someone started screaming as the out of control tank ran him over. The OAC, out of options, left their positions and started falling back. The Partisans took the chance offered and fired on the moving enemies, killing eight more before the enemy was away from the hospital and running.
As the first vehicle stopped and kept suppressing fire on the street corner, three vehicles, modified buses, pulled up to the hospital where Miles' team was just coming out with several doctors, nurses, and patients who were then quickly bundled into the vehicles. The last vehicle pulled up and out climbed Monk and another Runner who came to George.
"Nick, may I present Miss Abigail Parsons, wife of the late Victor Parsons." George nodded as he recognized the name. Victor had been a Runner who had been caught and executed a week ago. His wife, who until then was willing to just let things blow over, decided that actions spoke louder than words and started helping the Runners. They shook hands and then Nick gazed at the buses loading up.
"When the last bus is full, we'll need to get quickly out of the area and out of range of those cannons on the fort. The Rotarians are hesitant to fire on a hospital but who knows how much longer they'll stay their hand before their commanders decide to disregard that nagging little voice in their heads and blow the north face of the hospital to kingdom-"
He didn't finish the sentence as suddenly a loud whistling noice echoed over head and an explosion blew a corner off the north corner of the thirteenth floor. Shortly after, another shell blew a hole straight through the fifteenth. George cursed and looked to the buses.
"Time's up! Get those vehicles rolling NOW!" He gazed in the direction of the fort and growled.
"What I wouldn't give for a fire dragon right about now!" Monk looked to him.
"Nick, that's what Miss Abigail came to tell you, the Runners just came back from a rescue operation near the airfield. The Rotarians had captured a dragon who couldn't escape because he was ill. He's-"
A roar drowned out what he was saying and George looked up to see a flash of bright red drop out the clouds and vanish behind the hospital. Moments later, a siren wailed from the fort and thick black smoke started rising from the wall as the red-scaled dragon appeared again. This time a few anti-air guns along the wall started firing upwards at the dragon who quickly climbed up into the clouds. He was visible just long enough that George was able to see his bright red scales and the gold and yellow highlights as well as some silver and white of his underbelly.
With the shelling stopped, the buses quickly started up and split up, one bus and one escort. George and the Partisans, with no room on the vehicles, went back into the sewers and started making their way back to the HQ. All the while, George hoped that the dragon had gotten away safely and that the civilians in the hospital would make it out alright.
Knowing the Runners, they'd get the people to safety.
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When George and the rest of the unit returned, they found the place abuzz with activity and excitement. Upon entering the main area of the base, George found that, for the first time in his memory, the place actually had enough power that they didn't have a brown-out every six or seven minutes. Venturing down to the lower level, he found Zafra helping the medic tend to Caldor's wounds.
Apparently, he'd been more injured than he'd let on previously and was now being thoroughly chided by Zafra for his reckless attitude. She stopped her tirade long enough to greet him before continuing and he decided to momentarily ignore Caldor's pleading gaze asking him to tell Zafra to calm down. Instead of stopping Zafra with a statement, he told them of what transpired. Caldor was immediately on edge.
"This dragon, did you see what he looked like?" George nodded and recounted the moment he saw the dragon and the appearance of his scales and underbelly. Caldor immediately groaned.
"That sounds like Solfeyr. He may be a dragon but he's not Dracocorps, he's a civilian. Well, to put it bluntly he's ex-Dracocorps. Got kicked out a few years back for a multitude of charges the least of which was being drunk and disorderly. Doesn't sound like much but when a dragon with the fire element becomes drunk and disorderly near a human town people tend to become afraid. Damn near set the town on fire from what I heard." George looked to him.
"What was he doing here?" Caldor shrugged.
"My guess? He was trying to beg and plead with Aaros to reinstate him. You see, he's nobility; dragon nobility. He's the youngest son of Duke What's-his-name from some part of Northumbria... Xelven, I believe, and his dismissal was a huge embarrassment for Daddy-dearest and he all but disowned him. Word was he was just barely managing to scrape by. While he was here, he just so happened to catch a rather bad cold that Illian had just gotten over and, as a result, was the only dragon in the city still grounded when the city came under attack. Likely he wasn't in any shape to escape of fight back when the enemy took the airfield." George looked to him.
"Do you think he's worth recruiting?" Caldor looked to Zafra and then to George.
"Under any other circumstances, I'd say hell no but... well... I'm going to be grounded for a day or two and besides, when he arrived he was swearing he'd turned over a new leaf. You'll the leader of the Partisans. Whatever your decision, I'll stick with it." Zafra huffed at that.
"Well if you do recruit him Uncle, you'd best be sure to find a suitable alcove for him to den up in because our's is cramped enough as it is." She immediately blushed at what she had said and gazed at both Caldor who stared at her slackjawed and beet red and George looking about three seconds away from bursting into a fit of laughter. To save the remainder of her dignity, she turned and fled down an alcove.
George turned and looked to Caldor who was trying his best to pull himself together.
"I think, once everyone settles down and unwinds, I'll go see if I can't find this dragon and see about getting him to join us." Caldor heaved a weary sigh but nodded before resting his head on his forelegs and closed his eyes...
...just to have them shoot open again and him bang his head into the ceiling a scream, undoubtably Zafra's, tore through the underground. George had drawn his sidearm and charged down the tunnel Zafra had taken with Caldor hot on his heels.
As they reached a broad section of the underground, they saw Zafra standing before a large red male dragon: Solfeyr.
Solfeyr turned to gaze at the new arrivals. He sniffed disdainfully when he recognized Caldor but then he saw George and his eyes widened.
"George de Launces, it is a pleasure to see you unharmed. If you would permit me to introduce myself, I am Solfeyr and I-" He was cut off by Zafra swinging her tail around and clubbing him over the head with it. When he recovered, he glared at Zafra.
"Why you female oaf! How DARE you strike ME, do you have ANY idea as to who I am?!" George coughed to get his attention.
"Perhaps we should ask that same question. You see that is Zafra, the daughter of Magothera de Launces and my niece." Solfeyr immediately coughed nervously and backed away.
"Permit me to apologize m'lady. Had I known who you were I would have ceased my actions sooner. I had no knowledge that the Partisans already had a dragon working with them. I was coming to offer my assistance. I had thought you were either a deserter hiding in these tunnels." Zafra huffed.
"I heard you were nobility but I wonder about that since you can't count. The Partisans have two dragons aiding them. Myself and Caldor who has proven his bravery countless times before now." Solfeyr looked at Caldor and grunted.
"So, the traitor's son wanting to absolve himself of his sins, eh? Well, I suppose if you want to make a martyr of yourself fighting to free Launces is as just a way as any. Though I do wonder, how did you come to join the Partisans anyway?" Caldor huffed.
"Well unlike you who got caught on the ground and surrendered, I was knocked unconscious during the battle and woke up the day after. True I was in the midst of being chained to a truck by the Rotarians but thanks to George I managed to get free and have been fighting ever since." Solfeyr bristled at Caldor's jibe at him and allowed a small amount of smoke to escape from his nostrils. George immediately interposed himself and looked at both dragons.
"Enough if this! I don't need two male dragons trying to exhibit dominance over the other so close to the HQ. If you two want to see who's is bigger then go outside and fight it out! If not, then drop the attitudes. Solfeyr, Caldor has been a loyal, trustworthy comrade to us since we saved him from capture. I will not have his character or his actions called into question. Caldor, you yourself said that if I decided to ask Solfeyr to join the Partisans you wouldn't have any quarrels about it." Caldor took a deep breath and nodded before gazing back to Zafra.
"For the record, I do indeed agree that he should find his own alcove to den up in." Solfeyr snorted.
"I intend to. Besides, it's not as if you two are sharing a den together. I mean, that's a priviledge reserved for mates and there's no way that ANY female of the de Launces bloodline would see anything in YOU Caldor."
Before George could react, Caldor had lunged forward and struck Solfeyr with his right foreleg. He didn't use his claws so it was more like a punch but the effect was still unnerving. Solfeyr spun sideways, smashing his crest against the wall which gave an unnerving crack. As Caldor reared back for another punch, Solfeyr's tail came around and struck Caldor sending him into the opposite wall. As Caldor and Solfeyr rose to charge each other again, the stone from the tunnel leapt up on its own accord and formed shackles around the two males. Each turned to look at Zafra who was panting in anger.
"How dare the both of you! Getting yourselves worked up into a frenzy over the slightest thing! You're both damn lucky you didn't bring the tunnel down on our heads and expose the underground to the enemy topside! Ancestors, with this much noise you just may have done so! Caldor, acting like this is beneath you and YOU! Solfeyr, for your information I am denning up with Caldor only because there is not much room down here for each to have their own quarters and, quite frankly, I find him a lot more comfortable to be around. Now then, I am going to release the two of you, and then I am going to sleep!" She released them and sighed to her uncle.
"They're Your headache now..." George nodded as Zafra went to the alcove that she and Caldor shared, wings, tail, and neck drooping with weariness. Once she was away, he turned back to Solfeyr.
"Now then, Solfeyr, you were being held at the airfield, right?" Solfeyr nodded, thoroughly submissive. Then suddenly his head shot up with an exclamation.
"Ancestors I am a fool!" Caldor refrained from asking him why it took so long to figure it out. His expression spoke that this was serious.
"I just remembered that I saw something strange while I was being held there. Several of these strange machines the Rotarians called 'Choppers' were delivered to Launces a few days ago. Apparently they are to be used by the OAC to patrol the skies over the city to ensure that dragons can't launch attacks on OAC buildings and to pursue resistance fighters fleeing in a vehicle or on foot." George looked to him.
"What do they look like?" Solfeyr began to answer when a Partisan came running in out of breath.
"Nick! Hazzard detail is returning but they've got some kind of machine shadowing them! They're trying to evade it but they're having no luck!" George turned to Solfeyr.
"Looks like we need your help right out of the gate." Solfeyr nodded and turned to proceed back down to the entrance to the aqueduct. Caldor turned to George and sighed.
"I'll stay here in case I'm needed. Despite what I said, Solfeyr is capable but he's just..." George noticed his hesitation.
"A little hot-headed?" Caldor nodded ruefully both at the truth of the statement and the pun. Then suddenly, Solfeyr stopped and turned back around.
"By the way, George. Miss Angela sends her regards and to tell you that once she is certain the patients from the hospital are alright, she will be rejoining you here."
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Well, here is the new chapter. Man, Christmas is right around the corner and a new year on the horizon. It feels like almost yesterday we were starting out THIS year and now we turn around and here's another one. Well, days go by and the tomorrows become todays and then yesterdays. Through it all I shall keep on writing.
Hopefully I'll get another chapter up before Christmas but on the off-chance that I don't:
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you.
Next Chapter: Resistance: The Flying Eye