October 25th, 2161
Rebel Headquarters, Edinburgh, Scotland
CATRÌONA POV
I closed the door of the car rather loudly behind me, making a run for the headquarters as the bomb siren went off overhead. Once I was safely inside of the building, I pulled out my I.D. card, which featured my new appearance - dark brown hair and my circle-rimmed glasses, in addition to the slight aging my face had gone through - and swiped myself into the lift, pressing the button to take me to sub-level three, where the command center was. Once the doors opened, I stepped out onto the floor and then swiped myself into the meeting room, all eyes of all the other leaders suddenly turning to me.
"Yer late, Fowlis," said the leader of the Scottish naval force, and I lightly scoffed.
"Ye dinnae ken how much of a challenge it is te be called te a meetin' when yer in the middle of surgery, do ye, Graham? No' te mention, there's the threat of another shellin' over our heads,"I said to him, and he narrowed his eyes at me.
"Quite," said Admiral Graham as I took my seat, still dressed in my scrubs and white coat. "Now tha' we are all here, we can begin. Firstly, we all ken tha' the war is comin' te Edinburgh. The navy has anti-aircraft guns we can put te use in the bay, we'll of course be the first line of defence on the sea wall."
"Have ye got submarines?" asked Alexa MacLeod, now nearing sixty. She was in charge of the army branch of the Scottish military, while I was in charge of the army medical division.
"They're hard at work defendin' our aquatic borders," Admiral Graham replied.
"They'll no' be much use if they canna go where they're needed," I heard General Wallace, commander of the Scottish Air Force, say.
"Then I suppose ye'll have te be our eyes in the sky, General," said Admiral Graham to General Wallace, who narrowed his eyes at the admiral.
"Fish dinnae understand what it means te fly," General Wallace said to him.
"Aye, and birds cannae fly when their wings are wet," replied the admiral.
"If we could focus on the issue at hand, tha' would be great," I said to them with mild irritability. Above our heads, the bombing began, and I glanced up at the shaking ceiling, a small cloud of dust falling from it. "Our English friends are here already. They're speakin' of invasion and yer comparin' birds te fish. We have lives at stake here, this is no time fer a pishin' contest."
"The majority of the civilians of the city have been evacuated already," said General MacLean of the 6th Infantry. "We must rush evacuation and hope we achieve it in time. What of the hospital, Doctor Fowlis?"
"All civilian patients have been transported te other hospitals in other cities, leavin' the Royal Stuart Infirmary fer the use of the military," I replied. "Western General is still bein' evacuated and Liberton and Kennedy Tower have been levelled by the bombin', the University Hospital has been half levelled and cleared, all of its supplies bein' sent te the Royal Stuart Infirmary."
"All good things," said Alexa. "Well, not the ones that were destroyed. Do ye ken when Western General will be fully evacuated of civilians?"
"Hopefully, it'll resume when the bombin' ceases today," I told her.
"And how are yer supplies?" chimed in Prime Minister McDonald, who silently sat back and watched us. She had been exclusively a politician, having supported the war effort during the rebellion but never actively fought in it.
"Could always use more, but we have an adequate supply of nanomeds. We were given the majority of the supplies of other hospitals in the area te ensure the wounded soldiers get them," I told her.
"Excellent," said the Prime Minister. "Lord Provost Murray, ye must rush the evacuation of all non-military civilians. Anyone who has agreed te volunteer in the hospitals may remain, but all those not involved must be evacuated."
"Aye, Prime Minister. I'll get right on that," said Lord Provost Andrew Murray, who was the leader in Edinburgh.
"As soon as the bombin' ceases," said the Prime Minister. "Admiral Graham, do what ye must, but if ye can fortify the mouth of Blackness Bay, perhaps lay more mines and prepare yer anti-aircraft guns, that would be beneficial te us."
"Yes, Prime Minister," said Admiral Graham.
"General Wallace, ye'll make use of the air fields not only here in Edinburgh, but in Falkirk as well, and Linlithgow, Kirkcaldy, Fife, and Gifford. I want planes comin' from all sides te converge on the English," Prime Minister McDonald told General Wallace.
"Aye, Prime Minister McDonald," said General Wallace.
"Commander MacLeod, ye'll have ground troops stationed throughout Edinburgh as well as Prestonpans, Cockenzie and Queensferry. I want the army all around the bay as well, but our main focus must be those cities," said the Prime Minister to Alexa.
"Aye, ma'am. Consider it done," said Alexa, and then the Prime Minister looked at me.
"Doctor Fowlis," she said. "I'm countin' on ye te save our lads and our lasses."
"I'll do my best," I replied. "I've go' fifteen medics per army division, and I've go' medics on each ship as well."
"Excellent," said Prime Minister McDonald, and then she let out a sigh. "The English have been a thorn in our side fer centuries… Never have they been so destructive te our lands, but unlike the rebellion, we will have stronger weapons. We have the support of the world, and we will persevere. As the Declaration of Arbroath once said, so long as a hundred of us remain, we will never subject ourselves te English rule. We didnae do it then, and we willnae start now. Edinburgh will stand strong, as we always have."
"Here, here," said Lord Provost Murray.
29 October, 2161
The invasion began a few days after that meeting. I recall standing in the hospital watching news coverage on the televisions in the waiting room, my staff standing among the room with their eyes wide as we watched the first of the English arrive in Edinburgh. Of course, they came from all directions. The Air Force and the navy joined forces to protect the bay, while another division of the Air Force, along with the army, protected the ground. Within the first twenty minutes, we started to see the wounded making their way into the hospital, and I was surprised to see one of them accompanied by Maidie.
"Maidie!" I said as I joined her by a gurney with a wounded soldier. "I thought ye were accompanyin' patients from Western General."
"They don't need me, but I'm needed more here," Maidie told me. "This man's got shrapnel all in his abdomen."
"Send him te theatre, I've got many verra skilled surgeons in robotics tha' can pull all that out," I said to one of the other nurses, who took the gurney from us both. "What's it like out there?"
"Awful. Destructive," Maidie replied with a heavy sigh. "I never thought we'd see war again. England and Scotland seemed to be in agreement after the rebellion ended."
"Different monarch. We kent Alexander was trouble, we just didnae ken how much," I replied as I accepted another gurney brought in by a medic. "What's this one's issue?"
"Stabbed with a bayonet," said the medic, and I raised an eyebrow curiously.
"A bayonet?" I asked. "What is this, the '45?"
"The English are gettin' a taste of their own medicine wi' the French blockade," said the medic. "They're resortin' te auld weapons, same as we once did."
"It's no' fun when yer toys get taken away, is it?" I said as Maidie and I positioned the gurney in one of the bays. "Give him a dose of the 15 cc's of nanomeds, it'll do all the work and save the surgeons fer more complicated injuries."
"Can he stand it?" Maidie asked me as she grabbed one of the pens.
"He'll have te. The nanomeds will do their job and he'll be fine in a few days. I've designated a ward fer nanomed recovery. E Wing, the auld maternity ward. Dinnae think we'll need it here," I said as Maidie injected the nanomeds into the soldier's abdomen. "What's yer name, lad?"
"F-Foster, ma'am," he told me in an English accent - one of our English allies.
"Yer goin' te be fine, Foster, all right? Yer goin' te sleep fer a few days while ye recover," I told him, and then I glanced up at one of the nurses who had joined us. "Get a Foley into him and set him up in the nanomed ward."
"Yes, Doctor," said the nurse, unlocking the gurney and taking it.
"You have quite the system here," Maidie told me. "You were definitely the right person for the job."
"Should have seen me at Prestonpans," I said as I turned my attention to another soldier, examining her wounds. "Shrapnel, she'll need imagin' te see where it is and if it's embedded deep, call me."
"Yes, Doctor," said the nurse as I left the bay, Maidie following me.
"Prestonpans? What do you mean?" she asked me.
"Ah… nevermind," I replied.
"Is this one of your… 18th century stories?" she asked me, her voice in a hushed whisper, and I stopped to look at her.
"Aye," I replied. "I lost a… verra good friend. But I made army nurses out of several women," I told her. "But nevermind, tha's not important right this minute." I continued on, heading to the front to receive another gurney when suddenly, two English soldiers clutching each other came in and collapsed on the floor before me.
"Please! I know you hate us, but please save him!" cried the healthier of the two, referring to the other, who was bleeding heavily.
"Fetch a gurney!" I called behind me, laying the lad down on the ground. He would have been around Archie's age - early twenties, young, scarcely experienced in war, if at all.
"Please, can you save him?" asked the other lad.
"Can ye tell me yer name, a leannan ?" I asked the wounded lad, who murmured something.
"Brandon Hurst," said the healthier. "And I'm his boyfriend, Alec Ambers."
"Brandon, yer goin' te be fine, all right? Can ye turn yer head side te side fer me?" I said to Brandon, who weakly nodded and did so slowly. "Now chin te yer chest." He did that, too, as the gurney arrived and the nurses lowered it. "C-spine clear, get him up. Mr. Ambers, can ye tell me what happened?"
"He was shot by a plane," said Alec Ambers urgently, standing up and watching as the gurney was taken away and following me. "Please, Miss, can you save him? I know I'm English and I'm against you, but please!"
"I dinnae care who ye are or what side yer on, a life is a life, Mr. Ambers, and I will save it," I told him. "Besides, yer not yer king. Ye dinnae have te answer fer his crimes against my people. Are ye wounded as well?"
"No, ma'am," said Ambers. "But please, I don't want to leave him!"
"Ye can stay, but only if ye help us out wi' triage," I told him.
"I'd be glad to, ma'am - I mean Doctor," said Ambers, and I directed him to one of the nurses, who was glad to accept his help.
"What are ye doin'?" Doctor Bell exclaimed to me in a hushed whisper. "A Sassenach ? They're the enemy!"
"Te them, we're the enemy, and they might've been scared shitless comin' te us fer help. We're doctors, Bell. We save lives, no matter what side they're on. Remember the Hippocratic Oath?" I said to him, and he let out a huff.
"Well, if it were up te me, I wouldnae trust them, nor would I treat them," said Doctor Bell, and I couldn't help but smile.
"Then it's a good thing it's not up te ye," I replied.
"Incomin', Fowlis. Large amount of infantry," said Commander MacLeod's voice from my communicator watch.
"Heard," I replied, and then looked at Doctor Bell. "How aboot ye focus on savin' lives rather than mistrustin' a few pawns of Alexander, aye?" I said to him, turning away to accept the next wave of wounded soldiers, which was much bigger than I thought. "Right, this lad's go' three GSWs, two holes per each - an entrance and an exit. Stitch him up, give him a dose of nanomeds and send him te the nanomed ward. You, laddie, let me have a look at ye! Shrapnel throughout the leg, possible femoral injury. Get imagin' and then te surgery straight away. Wha's the cause of injury in this lass?"
"Her plane crashed, Doctor," said the medic that was accompanying the pilot, who groaned in pain.
"Imagin', then if there's no foreign objects inside, set any broken bones and give her a dose of nanomeds. Straight te the ward," I said.
"Yes, Doctor," the medic replied as he pushed the gurney the pilot was on inside.
"Tha' laddie's dead, have him sent te the morgue," I said as I checked the pupils and pulse of another, finding neither to be present.
"Doctor Fowlis!" I heard my name called from across the room. "I've got an impalement here!"
"Imaging, get a good look at the object inside before gettin' her te theatre," I replied.
"All doctors are in theatre, Doctor Fowlis," said one of the nurses to me.
"Verra well, I'll scrub in," I replied. "Maidie! Work triage, I trust yer judgement!" I called to Maidie as she examined another soldier, and she nodded.
"Right, broken leg? Bay six," I heard Maidie say as I turned on my heel and made my way to the operating theatre. Throughout the corridors were wounded soldiers everywhere, from broken limbs to wounds with tourniquets to even missing limbs, all of them awaiting surgery. Their injuries weren't as life-threatening as those who were already in the operating theatre, such as the impalement that I was about to fix. It took me an hour to finish, and unfortunately, the patient had bled out and died, the damage too extensive. Standing among the bloody floor and table, I leaned against it, removing my blood-covered gloves so I could wipe away some of the blood that had squirted onto my face when the aorta tore. I removed my glasses, staring down briefly at the droplets of blood that covered the lenses, then delicately wiped them clean on my scrubs.
"Doctor Fowlis to Bay 10, Doctor Fowlis to Bay 10," I heard announced overhead, and I let out a heavy sigh. More lives to save, more lives I couldn't save, more lives to be extinguished by King Alexander I's men.
31 October, 2161
"Fowlis!" I heard on my communicator watch suddenly as I sent off another gurney to one of the theatres.
"Not a good time, MacLeod," I said into my watch. "We're positively swamped and we're short on doctors. I've had te send some out into the field after losin' medics."
"Tha's exactly why I called ye. Tom's somewhere out in the field wounded but I cannae place his tracker. The English are fuckin' wi' the signals. Last he was seen was someplace near the South Bridge," Alexa told me, and I scoffed.
"The South Bridge? What the hell was he doin' up there?" I said.
"The auld vaults were used fer meetin's until the English took it, then we took it back and tha's where Tom was, but he sent out a distress signal of some sort. Ye have te go and find him," Alexa told me.
"Why me? I'm busy runnin' the hospital," I told her.
"Because he specifically wanted you , Cat," Alexa replied. "Come on, it's Tom!" I let out a sharp groan.
"Fine," I said. "But if I come across any wounded, I'm sendin' them straight te hospital."
"Yer the best, Cat," said Alexa, and I made a face.
"Maidie!" I called, suddenly drawing Maidie's attention as she walked by with a gurney. "I need te go out in the field, can ye take over here? Keep an eye on things?"
"Me? But I'm not a doctor," Maidie told me, flabbergasted at being asked.
"Ye are now, and I trust ye more than anyone else here," I replied. "Please, Maidie, Tom could be in danger and I need te go and find him."
"Tom?" Maidie asked, her eyes widening, and then she nodded. "All right… Go, and be careful."
"I will," I said, taking off my white coat and tossing it to her, then took off my communicator watch and gave it to her. With that said, I went to the supply room and pulled on a bulletproof vest that the medics wore, pulling on protective sleeves and changing out of my scrubs. On one arm was a white band with a red cross indicating that I was a medic, and I braided my hair back and clipped on one of the helmets, which also featured a red cross. I changed into a more protective pair of boots and when I was finally dressed, I completed my outfit with my Fowlis of Barra tartan that I had fetched from Cìosamul Castle years before, then grabbed a medipack, which contained twenty-five single dose capsules of nanomeds and ten larger doses, and then out into the streets I went.
It was strange, seeing so many parts of Edinburgh destroyed and levelled to the ground. There were anti-tank traps, larger guns placed on taller buildings, tanks bearing the Scottish flag rolling their way through the streets, if they could, and concrete chunks were everywhere. Overhead, I could hear the roar of the fighter jet engines and the sound of distant gunshots and bombs being dropped echoing through the empty shell of what used to be Edinburgh. The bridge, find the South Bridge… I pulled out my mobile phone and opened up the map so I could see what direction the bridge was in, as it was difficult to see through all the smoke and ash and destroyed buildings. The map directed me through various streets, and I ducked underneath pieces of debris when I heard voices or jets overhead. It took me thirty minutes of dodging jets and soldiers until I finally reached the bridge, then opened up the tracking app and typed in Tom's code, finding it to be somewhere inside of the vaults. "What the hell are ye up te, ye daft wee gabbot?" I asked myself quietly, and then I headed towards them. I found the entrance to the vaults, which sunk down into the ground beneath the bridge, and let out a sigh. The vaults were rumoured to be a hub for supernatural activity, and frankly, I wasn't in the mood for running into any ghosts.
I descended downwards into the vaults, pulling out my flashlight and shining it into each vault as I passed. I checked my tracker to see that I was approaching his location, so I pressed the button that would play a sound to help me locate his tracker. I heard the echo of the high-pitched ping bouncing off of the walls, so I approached it slowly until the ping was at its loudest behind one of the doors. I pushed it open, then dropped my flashlight.
Standing there, in the middle of one of the larger vaults, was Richard Randall, holding the pinging tracker and Tom's communicator watch in his hand, and he smirked when he saw me. "I knew you would fall for my little trick," he said to me rather smugly.
"Where's Tom? What've ye done te him?" I demanded from Randall.
"Oh, have no fear for the fate of my brother. He's perfectly all right, where I left him," Richard replied.
"And where's tha'?" I demanded from him.
"I used a bit of gas to knock him out and placed him out in the open, so have no fear. When he awakes, he'll be perfectly fine," Randall replied, throwing aside the tracker. " You , on the other hand… I have been waiting far too long to end your life. You look different since I saw you last. The brown hair suits you."
"Done up because of ye," I replied, taking off my helmet to show him the brown of my hair. "Figured ye couldnae spot me from a distance wi' brown hair."
"You've made it very hard to find you, indeed," Randall told me. "I heard you're not out in the field any longer."
"I've been stayin' in the hospital," I replied. "You, on the other hand, have been committin' war crime after war crime, havenae ye? I heard aboot the burnin' of Lauder, and how ye ordered yer men te trap innocent civilians and children in the school and torched it."
" I never did any such thing. We ordered the civilians to evacuate and if they chose to remain behind, then that was their own fault," Randall told me.
"Ye've killed a lot of children. See now why I didnae want ye near my daughter?" I demanded from him, and he smirked at me.
"That was clever of you to hide her away, and of my brother to destroy the records. I was unsuccessful in every way in trying to find her," Randall replied. "Now, enough of this. You've evaded me for thirty years, and I've had enough of you escaping." He pulled a gun out of his holster and pointed it at me, and I couldn't help but scoff.
"Ye'd really shoot an unarmed person?" I said to him. "I've not a weapon on me, nothin' but medicine. How will that look? I'm certain ye'll brag aboot bein' the one te end my life."
"I'll tell them you attacked me," said Randall, and I turned around, raising my hands into the air.
"Go ahead. Tell them tha' when ye've shot me in the back," I told him, and he let out a low growl.
"Turn around, Fowlis!" he demanded of me, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Ye bloody coward," I told him. "Ye could kill a child no issue, but ye cannae shoot me in the back?"
"I want to see the light leave your eyes as I end your life," Randall spat back at me. "Turn around!"
"Nah, I think I'm good," I replied, and I heard him let out a shout and heard him lunge toward me, grabbing me from behind and brandishing a knife. I felt it plunge into my side and I let out a cry, then bit down onto his hand, causing him to yelp and jump away from me. I did something I shouldn't have done and pulled the knife out, letting out a cackle at Randall. "Shootin' me is too good fer ye now?" I said, showing him the bloody blade and covering the wound with my other hand. "Yer gettin' rusty, auld man. Where ye stabbed me willnae kill me, I lost my spleen a long time ago."
"I did hear there was an explosion in a hospital at Stirling," said Randall maliciously. "I had hoped you'd been killed."
"Nope, just lost a spleen and a kidney, but I've got another te get by," I told him, giving him a smirk, but it was hard to smile through the pain in my side. Suddenly, there was an explosion, and both Randall and I were thrown off of our feet. He must have recovered faster than I had, as my hearing, for the moment, was completely shot, and I saw him hovering over me with a piece of stone, bringing it down onto me. I was able to move out of the way in time and he smashed the stone down onto the ground, then picked up a piece and threw it at me, scratching the side of my head and upsetting my glasses. I let out a laugh as I recalled doing something similar to Vekneira on Hy-Brasil. "Throwin' rocks is fer children," I told him, leaning for support on the wall.
"Enough of this, you bitch!" Randall growled at me, making a grab for his gun, but it seemed to be missing. In his momentary distraction while he was searching for his weapon, I took the blade that had gotten stuck next in my thigh during the explosion and threw it at him the way I once used to, sticking it right in his carotid artery. He let out a choked gurgle, his brown eyes staring at me wide with shock, and I limped over to him, getting down onto the ground and sitting him up so I could look him in the eye.
"Ye've failed," I told him. "Ye've failed, and ye'll now die and watch me laugh over yer dyin' body." I pulled out my own blade and stabbed him in the abdomen. "Tha's fer my wee brother, Iain." I took it out and stabbed him in the thigh. "Tha's fer Uilleam." I stabbed him in his other thigh, each time earning a well deserved grunt of pain from him. "Tha's fer Alasdair." I stabbed him in his abdomen again, making sure to get his other kidney. "Tha's fer my Mam." Finally, I stabbed him in his shoulder and twisted it, and he let out a fierce cry. "And tha's fer my Da!"
"You… brutal… bitch…" said Randall, and I gave him a fierce, malicious smirk of my own.
"Hurts, doesnae it?" I said. Hubris is a weakness and often, a fatal flaw. It was the fatal flaw of Odysseus, of politicians and leaders throughout history. Hubris caused the end of many ancient heroes, and it was something we as leaders today are advised to be wary of. But after thirty years of resenting the man before me for the crimes committed not only against my family, but against my people, and after being certain I had him dead, I couldn't help the arrogance of lauding the end of his life over him. Hubris, in that moment, was my fatal flaw - I never saw him lift the gun. I felt the impact of the bullet ripping through my abdomen before I heard it, and the impact knocked me backwards onto my back. I coughed, feeling a trail of blood leaking down my cheek as I stared up at the caved in roof of the vault, and heard the faint laughter of Randall before he gave out his final choke and died.
So Randall had the last laugh… I killed him and finally avenged the deaths of my family, only for him to have the last laugh anyway. As I lay there, the world around me going fuzzy, I waited for my life to begin flashing before me, waiting to join Randall, my family, Jamie… in death, but nothing came. There were no memories of my childhood, no voices of the past echoing in my ears, no warm embraces imprinted on my body, just nothing but the cold October air, surrounded by stale darkness, save for the small crack of sunlight through the roof.
No. Get up, ye fool. Yer not lettin' tha' bastard win.
"Jamie?" I called weakly, hearing his voice as if he were there with me. "Jamie…"
Get up, mo nighean ruadh. Call fer help. Yer no' dyin' there in a stone cave.
I reached down to my side, where my tracker was located, and went to press the button, but found it damaged. I let out a huff and lay back flat. "I cannae… it's broken…" I said to Jamie. "Stay wi' me, Jamie… Please…"
Yer not dyin' here, damn it. Get up.
"I… can't…" I said quietly.
Ye can, so do it. Do it now, or ye never will.
I let out a groan, then slowly rolled over and pushed myself up, letting out a cry and collapsing down onto my stomach. "It hurts… it hurts so much…"
I know, a nighean, but yer strong. Try again.
Waiting a moment to gather my strength, I pushed myself up again, overcoming the pain from the strain and pushed myself up to sit on my knees. I glanced briefly back at Randall's lifeless body, which lay there soaked in blood.
Stop wastin' time. Go, get out of there.
"All right, damn it," I hissed, crawling over to the crumbling wall and pulling myself to stand. I felt my way towards the entrance, then nearly ran into a large pile of rubble that I realised was blocking the only entrance into the vaults. "I… I can't… I'm trapped… Jamie… Jamie!"
Come here, a nighean.
"Jamie, where are ye? Please dinnae leave me alone! I… I dinnae want te die alone," I cried out mournfully, feeling for the wall so I could sit back down.
Stop, dinnae ye dare sit down. Follow my voice.
"But where is yer voice?" I demanded from him.
This way, over here…
"Bastard," I muttered quietly, walking in the direction I thought I could hear his voice coming from.
In here, in here…
I came to a wooden door that seemed relatively undamaged, staring up at it with surprise. I pushed it open, only to find a closed off vault. "Jamie, what is this? Where are ye? Jamie, please!" I cried out.
Come inside. Come inside…
"I am inside, damn it! Jamie!" I shouted, slamming my fists against the wall, and then I began to sob, feeling the world beginning to darken around me. "Lyin' bastard… I'm goin' te die all alone…" I collapsed down onto my knees, my palms going flat against the wall, and then… nothing.
"Mama… Mama… Are ye awake? Mama…"
"Who… What…" I thought the words came from me, but it was hard to know for sure. What I did know was that there was a bright light visible on the other side of my eyelids.
"We must get her home."
"Help me get her in the wagon!"
I could hardly feel a thing, but I did feel the faint, distant touch of someone lifting me up, but I didn't know who or what. It didn't matter - I blacked out again.
