"Push the troops forward to the left storage, they'll serve as a great distr-" "Are you ridiculous? If we take them out now, we'll fall back and they'll advance!" "But if we can hold them off for an hour they can maneuver through-" "No! It won't work, they'll just send out mo-" "We need to work together here, a distraction could work-" "But taking this group will significantly lower our chances for survival-" Voices argued, day and night, in the headquarters at the southern city of New Joten. One of the many at risk of being seized by the clutches of the Dictator. The Dictator was... a force to be reckoned with. And that was wording it lightly. The man has managed to capture several cities and provinces, not to mention he has conquered every bit of the Tropics down south. That is particularly what had him at such an advantage, he had every resource he could possibly want or need in such a rich and exotic land. Not to mention after having captured tribes and enslaving many, he had an impossibly huge work force. His army... Pah, let's not even get started on the army. This man, whatever his motives were, was succeeding in leading his dictatorship. It was a pain to sit outside the room, just to hear their voices rise and fall in bouts of hopelessness and victory. But he was to be interrogated by these people soon enough. Until then he was under watch. Elijah was, reportedly, the only escapee of the Dictator's forces when he fled from his home city to the closest capital which could protect his life. They had a surprise attack launched on them. Everyone had seen the blimps flying overhead, thinking it was either just another airshow or just more foreigners on a massive tour. They didn't expect the bombs to start dropping. He himself was returning home from the open market, having gotten his automobile fixed, and expecting to eat lunch with a friend. Pity, that friend was dead now. He remembered coming on the highway to find traffic stopped, looking to the city he saw flashes of orange black smoke was beginning to rise. He did not, however, remember much after that. His memory was fuzzy. He thought he drove off the road and into the grasses and fields, trying to get as far away as possible... then, an explosion? There had to be a nearby explosion. Otherwise the whole right side of his body wouldn't have burns and scars from flying debris. It was nothing that immobilized him, but Elijah had spent the first month here in recovery, and it had taken him half a month to get here in the first place. At least, he thought that was the case. He snarled, leaning over with his elbows on his knees. His hands tangling in thick, black, and curly hair. The guard at the entrance merely stared at Elijah, wondering what in hell's name he was thinking about. He was a strange, sickly, and scarred little man. Didn't trust the look of this escapee one bit. He was a rather short one; barely standing above 5'4", he was no taller than a teenage girl. His overall skin tone made him look as though he hailed from the desert. Only one side of 'im was covered in loads of little scars and burns, making his skin a molted color over there at least. His hair on that side was shorter even, most of it had been singed off and it was growing back quickly. Overall though, Elijah looked ill. By his stature he was a well muscled man, but he looked thinner than what he should be. Must've been losing weight and muscle mass. The gaunt face certainly didn't help that image; hollowed cheek, dark bags under the eyes, pale lips. He'd been givin' a loose maintenance worker's uniform, dark grey in color, the sleeves rolled up and boots tied tight around the pant legs. Hearing Elijah snarl he gripped his gun tighter, pulling down the visor of his headgear. Last thing he needed was a maniacal short man. "We need a better detailed report on what happened to the city of Linden if we're going to try and recapture the place." "Well that's just it, no one made it out alive." "Wrong, we do have the only survivor, or at least the only reported one." "You heard the nurses, he has a very unclear memory. He doesn't even remember how he got here." "That doesn't mean he won't remember anything, he's the only chance we got." "It probably wouldn't even matter, chances are the place is up its neck in droids-" "We. Don't. Know. That." "Then bring in the man now, by Gods, you people need to take some action." "Well then clear the room, we don't need more than three people and it could be risky anyhow... Exit through the back please." There was some rather frantic murmuring and the shuffling of heavily booted feet making their way out of the room by means of another exit. Elijah felt slight relief that he at least wouldn't be interrogated by a whole committee. The door at his side creaked open. "Mr. Park? If you would come in please, we're ready to question you now," a man's voice from the other side spoke to him. Pushing himself up from the rickety chair he'd been forced to wait in, he stepped into the room. It was unlike anything he'd seen, that's for sure. A world map of a table in the center, devices foreign to his eyes and screens all about the circular room. The bright light from overhead burned his eyes, making him squint. "Mr. Park, please, have a seat here." The same man that spoke to him guided him over to the other two who were waiting, a single chair also waiting for him. Well, at least this one's padded, he thought. Sitting down he stared up at the three in front of him. Two men, one woman. Each in uniform of purple and gray. The center man, dark skinned and bearded was the first to speak, and clearly the one to question him. "Welcome Mr. Park, we hope your stay has been pleasant." "..." "... You'd rather get down to business I presume." "You presume correctly, Sir." "Very well then. Where were you at the time of the capture?" "I was on the highway, coming home." "How far were you from the city?" "I guess about five miles or more, I could see the World Clock." "How did you know the city was under attack?" "There was black blimps flyin'. Droppin' bombs from overhead." "So this was a bombing?" "Yeah..." "How did you escape?" "I turned off the highway, into the fields. They was chasin' off the vehicles when I got out of city limits." "Did you get caught in the bombing?" "I... don't remember." From there, things turned downhill. Elijah was calm and collected at first, but his anger was getting the better of him when he found he could no longer answer their questions confidently, or even answer them at all. The inquiry had continued for two hours of them repeating the same questions nonstop, at some point even questioning if he was on their side. He understood this was protocol, but Gods this was difficult to sit through. Eventually though they had been called to other duties. With the questioning finished, he was given order to leave. Though he was fairly certain they dropped a hint that they'd be watching over him. With this, he was escorted out of the building, the guard from earlier walking him through dim tunnels before coming to the outside world. It had become a military camp. Merged with the citizens that were left. Troops ran everyday, even in the rain as they were doing now. The people were often hurrying, frightened, looking away from the soldiers as they went off inside their homes to lock their doors. "Get a move on," the guard had grunted at him. With a scowl on his face, Elijah stepped into the rain, making his way across the street and to the nearest dry spot on the pavement. A mother and her children scurried away, her boys clutching to the thick skirt of her dress as she urged them to move along. He sighed, closing his eyes. This was too much activity for him. People running, people fleeing, men shouting, rain falling... Just everything. When he opened his eyes again, he stared back at the building he just left. The entrance now sealed off by means of several walls. The guard was no longer there. Pity, he'd have like to feign illness and be left to the nurses again.