ME: Time for preparations and controversial topics. A/N: Interlude.
Barricades had been established to allow the remainder of 1st Battalion, 1st Regiment of District Two's Peacekeeping Garrison to fight from cover. Both heavy and medium machine guns augmented their firepower, as did the mortars and anti-tank missile launchers along with their unguided rocket launcher counterparts. Anti-aircraft weapons were stationed to prevent rebel bombers from attacking the evacuation.
Finally vehicles drove in. There was a variety of people-some were uniformed schoolchildren herded by their teachers, some were nuclear families, some crippled or old, others childless couples or single adults. They were all either neutral or Loyalist civilians hoping to avoid the war.
"Citizens," Enobaira announced via bullhorn, "please remain calm. Pregnant women, the disabled and/or elderly and children first, the rest of you will be allowed to go after them. Please provide whatever assistance you can if you are able-bodied, we all need to do our part."
A husband dressed in clothes common to a stonecutter kissed his pregnant wife goodbye while his teenaged son and daughter helped their grandfather. A freckled 19-year old boy tried to comfort his crying girlfriend (whose brother had been KIA in Twelve). A crippled elderly man aided by his nephew cried a tearful goodbye, while orphans bitterly reflected on the fact their ranks would be swelled (and already had been).
The Lieutenant reflected on the fact she was a guardian for all these people, alongside her fellow platoon leaders. Laura was her friend, their bond strengthened by a baptism of fire that led the two to become surrogate sisters. Major Flavius, while not nearly as close, was a good man and excellent commander, had believed in her ever since she was assigned to his company post-OCS graduation. And finally there was First Sergeant Carney.
The first thing she learned about him was that his very appearance was deceitful. Although Carney's dark skin (and, to a lesser extent given the Career Districts, his build) would have seemingly indicated him being from District Eleven, his accent (worn-down with a hint of Two) designated him as a Capitol native; however, he was an orphan and joined the day he graduated from school not out of debt or thrill-seeking but out of honor and selflessness.
The evacuees were moved into the train cars, while a few APCs deposited their living cargoes. Similarly, a group of armed men and women (having left the train cars before the refugees boarded them) walked over.
The first thing Enobaria noticed was that they were not uniform in appearances; some wore Peacekeeper uniforms and were undoubtedly Boys and Girls in White (judging by their fresh gear and appearance as well as walk, they were recruits fresh out of training and on their way to the front, although their leadership most likely were DIs and training officers), while the others wore a hodgepodge of clothing and would've been identified as rebels if not for their white armbands bearing the seals of Districts One, Two and Four.
One of the training officers addressed her battalion. "Battalion, these recruits are on their way to the frontline to reinforce whatever units need them. Those wearing armbands are Loyalist Militia troops from the Career Districts, they are here to strengthen your unit and help protect the evacuees."
The stonecutter's daughter glanced at the passengers who had disembarked from the APCs and found herself mortified.
They all wore Cadet uniforms along with a mixture of old Peacekeeping gear (said gear having been withdrawn from service due to it's ineffectiveness at intimidating the District Eleven farmhands, leading to a violent riot during the 74th Hunger Games). Some with their heights and builds were definitely in the seventeen-to-eighteen range, while others barely looked old enough to volunteer.
"Cadets!" Major Flavius said. "You are all honorable students of this fine District's Warrior Academy, but the majority of you are not old enough for the horrors myself and my Peacekeepers shall face once again courtesy of the rebel horde. Therefore, you are all ordered to defend the train station. Failure to comply will end with you disgraced."
"Why hang back?" Said a cocky eighteen-year old who undoubtedly would've attempted to volunteer if not for the Quarter Quell taking Victors instead. "So your so-called battalion-" Enobaria despised his smugness "-can be defeated by some half-wit peasants lead by the Whore of Twelve?"
She growled and beat Flavius to the punch, seizing him by the collar. "Listen, you pathetic, worthless, immature brat! This battalion has seen hell itself. I killed no less than a dozen child-soldiers, all far younger and more unprepared then you. I witnessed as commissars from Thirteen shot continental rebels for retreating, said continentals dying have made a good decision for once. With this sword-" she drew her gladius for emphasis "-I sliced off a man's hand before decapitating him. And I had the pleasure of one of my eighteen-year old subordinates-a young woman who was far more of a man then you could try to be, in spite of her reproductive organs-bleed out with her head cradled in my lap, crying for her mother. So none of us need your shit today, boy. Am I understood?" Before he could answer, she kneed him in the groin, sending him crashing to the ground squealing.
"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" He replied.
One of the District Four Militiamen, wearing a somewhat-anarchonistic uniform that included an old helmet and a new tactical vest, walked up to her.
"Lieutenant Domitius?" He asked.
"What is it, Militiaman?"
He smiled and extended his hand. "Lawrence Fisher, Victor of the Seventy-Second Hunger Games and member of the District Four Loyalist Militia. But you'll know me as your second-in-command's brother."
She shook his hand just as the only other Lieutenant in the battalion discovered them.
"Lawrence! Lawrence!"
Laura ran into her brother's arms and hugged him tightly. "I was so worried about you!"
"I was too, Laura," he replied.
"What happened to Mom, Dad and Clara? Are they okay?"
The older Fisher flinched. "Bad news: Our parents were killed before they could evacuate along with their staff; rebel bastards spared not even the maid's daughter."
At this, Laura fell to her knees and began to sob. Enobaria moved to comfort her.
"Good news?" Lawrence smiled while taking off Laura's helmet and crouching to look her in the eye. "You're gonna be an aunt soon, Laura. All my hard work with Clara has paid off."
At this she wiped her eyes and sniffled while smiling at her brother's somewhat perverted humor. "Oh shut up, you just had to have sex with her. That's entertainment practically."
"Break's over, troops," Flavius interrupted. "We got an evacuation to defend here, move it!"
"You heard the man, boys and girls!" Carney announced in response. "Get off your asses now!"
As Enobaria left to rejoin Bravo Platoon, she noticed something over by the train station.
One older Cadet-seventeen at the very least-with sandy hair and Amber eyes was fidgeting in a way that would make him a piss-poor Career Tribute. The other was a small girl who-judging by her height of five feet alone-couldn't be older than eleven (although she was definitely older given her facial appearance) with chin-length red hair that brought out her blue eyes was screaming at him. It would've been amusing in better circumstances.
ME: How was that?