Dane Ledsham's Story

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear, is fear of the unknown.” - H.P. Lovecraft

Bakersfield, California Catholics Union
Change Year 10

“Anything worth having is worth fighting for.” - Unknown

Bakersfield, Sacramento
Change Year 10

The plaza had fallen silent as the Lord-Commander climbed onto the back of his horse so he could better address the assembled captives and his own victorious soldiers. His armour, like that of his men, seemed to gleam a dull bronze colour, the red cloak about his shoulders swirling with his movements. Soldiers stood about the edge of the plaza, his regular troops dressed like himself, the elite pathfinders clad in desert camouflage.

"Men and women of Sacramento! We have ourselves a victory!" He punched his fist into the air and a roar went up from the surrounding soldiers. Shields fronted in bronze and emblazoned with a red sun pierced by a spear flashed in the sunlight as they were punched into the sky and orange banners with the same sun flew in the wind that tugged at all those standing in the plaza.

"It's been a long hard march and a short but bitter fight. We are at the extreme edge of the Cities borders and have brought this town, the most important town in all of southern California under our control, for that I salute you!" More cheers and now weapons were slammed against shields. The hounds present howled their approval and the captives shrank away from the reddish beasts.

"Now we make a choice, what do we do with this lot?" He waved a hand over the captives who had stayed silent. Some cried, most sat in quiet disbelief that their city could have fallen so easily. Not a priest was to be seen amongst them, all had either been in the church when it burned, or been thrown into the blaze by the victors. Everyone knew that priests spread disease, both morally and physically.

Numerous shouts came from every quarter on what was to be done, many of them less than pleasant and those who had already suffered some of the fates suggested clutched their tattered clothes about them and shrank away from the laughing soldiers.

The Lord-Commander held up his hand and an immediate silence fell over the plaza again save for the whimpering of the captives and the screams of terrified babies, their mothers trying to shush them as quickly as possible. For a long moment he looked over the assembled captives, most of them women and children, perhaps five hundred had died in the fighting. He caught a few gazes here and there that were quickly turned away but most avoided his gaze.

"Listen up citizens of Bakersfield!" His voice boomed over the plaza, rising even above the sound of the crackling timbers in the ruined church.

"Sacramento is not a discriminator of sex, religion, or any personal beliefs. As you may have noticed," He waved his hand at the town around them. "The majority of the town is still in one piece and homes have not been looted. You have two choices." He held up two fingers, ticking off their options slowly and clearly for all to hear.

"One. Swear fealty to the Lord-Marshal and return to your lives. You will be allowed to retain your personal property. Your faith we will not challenge but neither will we tolerate sedition. Many of you will be resettled north of here so that you cannot cause trouble for us so close to the CCU. The land will be granted to you by the Lord-Marshall, of equal value to what you leave behind here." That caused a small stir in the crowd and more than a few exclamations of surprise.

The second finger fell. "Two. You can be stubborn and insist on remaining loyal to the CCU. If you do, your property and everything you own is forfeit, including your bodies. You will be sold into slavery, if you cannot work, you will be killed. Those who wish to follow this path will stay where they are, those who wish to live as free men, stand up. You have minutes to make your decision."

He turned his back on the square that suddenly sounded like a thousand bees as everyone began to whisper and talk at once. He knew that most would take his offer, he had given this speech many time at other towns like this. Many of those who moved from here would be replaced with captives from his northern campaigns. It wasn't fool proof but it removed them from the comfort of the familiar. The Change had altered peoples thinking and most of them would becoming hard working and productive citizens within a year or two once they realized that Sacramento kept its word.

"My Lord-Commander." One of his signallers caught his attention. "Message from the Gatehouse, a rider approaching. One of the Los Vegas group our scouts saw last evening."

"Ballsy..." Muttered the Lord-Commander. "I like it. Order the picket line to let the rider pass. I will speak with whoever it is when I am finished here."

The signaller nodded to turned away, using a small hand held mirror to flash a quick series of signals back to the men on the top of the gatehouse. The Lord-Commander turned back to the plaza and then leaned forward on the pommel of his saddle. He could see families arguing amongst themselves. Already some had begun to stand. Mostly young couples or single individuals. In some places those who stood were youths, shrugging off their parents attempts to pull them back down. Making them chose their own fate had a decidedly advantageous edge in making them argue amongst themselves rather than simply being forced.

It occurred to him that he hadn't bothered to check the time when he told them they had five minutes and so he drew a precious and virtually irreplaceable pocket watch that needed to be wound from inside his chest plate. He felt a sudden hush fall on the crowd and glanced up to see them all staring at him in expectant horror.

"Three minutes." He growled. The buzzing began again.

He took the time to glance about the square at the soldiers who ringed it. Most were busy watching the crowd for any trouble makers, a few were working to staunch bloody wounds as medics worked through them. It hadn't been a totally flawless fight for his side. Maybe two dozen men had been killed, three times as many wounded, but it had been a remarkably low price to pay for taking a town of three thousand.

One thing he and the Lord-Marshal had not skipped was uniformity. They both knew the power of a uniform and how even a small group of men who looked and acted the same could rout a much larger disorganized group. Uniformity bred confidence in his own men and sowed fear amongst others who faced them. The emblem they had chosen from a book series, Game of Thrones. Both men had agreed that Dornes speared sun was appropriate for the region.

He flipped open the watch again, realizing once again that he had forgotten to actually *look* at the time. It must be five minutes, or close enough anyway. He sat up straight in his saddle and snapped his fingers at a bugler. The man sounded two quick blasts on the instrument and the plaza quieted again as the surrounding soldiers stepped seemed to stiffen, hands tightening on the grips of their weapons. At this point only fear of the unknown really kept the crowd in check since the victorious army only numbered a hundred or so over a thousand. The Rhodesians, most of them sitting quietly at the moment, were certainly key to the suppression of any attempts to attack the soldiers.

"Time to decide!" His voice boomed over them all. "Those who wish to live free, stand and be recognized."

It took a moment then people began to stand as he knew they would. It did not take long until the majority of them were on their feet. They did not speak, most just stood with their heads held high, ignoring the entreaties of their family members who still sat upon the cold marble.

"Captain." The Lord-Commander turned to one of his waiting officers. "Process them accordingly."

Soldiers began to move forward, leading those who had stood from the crowd in small groups. One hundred at a time would be allowed to collect what they could carry before being escorted out of the city. From there they would be escorted north. The new settlers for Bakersfield were already en-route, they had been waiting south of the city for the siege to end. Other soldiers began to drag away those who had remained sitting and forcing them to their knees on the steps of the Church. There was the expected crying and screaming of families being torn apart but ten years of bitter fighting following the end of the world had hardened the gentlest soul amongst them.

There were few enough, maybe a couple of hundred, that were forced to the steps of the smouldering church. It was to them that the Lord-Commander rode next, his subordinates could handle the relocation project, it was not the first one they had done. Those on the steps were a mix of young and old, men and women, tearful and defiant.

Once on the steps they were sorted again. This time they were sorted by age and health. Those who looked healthy were looked over by medics who pronounced them fit and able or not. There were many who refused to stand on their own two feet, instead crying out prayers to a God who did not appear to save them.

The group consisting of the elderly and those to sick or injured to be of use were herded into a nearby building and the doors were barred. Those who were still able of body were shackled and roped about the neck. They would be sold as slaves when the market re-opened. It was not a part of the job that the Lord-Commander relished, he still had the long ago instilled values of protecting those who could not help themselves but this was war, in a different time, and for all intents and purposes, a different world.

"Lock em up. Break them if you must." He said to the a small wiry looking man who offered him a thin smile. "They're worthless dead or injured. Your pay relies on it." The man nodded and saluted before ordering the shackled line into a shuffling march. They would be held in a corral until the time came to sell them. Those with attitude would be broken of it, somehow, the Lord-Commander didn't question the tactics of his men.

"Hurry Ladies and Gentlemen!" He called out to the soldiers moving about the plaza. "The enemy is sure to respond!"

Sure enough, to the south, someone had heard of the siege and troops were mobilizing to respond. Bakersfield's war was far from over.

"Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude." - Thomas Jefferson

Bakersfield, Sacramento


"Las Vegas, huh?" the young lieutenant drawled loftily as he studied the black-and-red face mask on the small, tranquil woman perched on top of the sand-colored horse. He folded his arms across his chest and cast a sidelong glance at one of the sergeants standing by. "Care to elaborate how she got here?"

The man turned slightly to glance at the woman, then back to the lieutenant. "This civilian came to the picket on her own cognition, sir," he answered calmly. "Approached us on horseback and asked to see the Lord-Commander."

The officer grinned amusedly and fixed his hands on his hips. "And why should we allow you to do that?"

Aves' smile was obscured by her mask, her large brown eyes watching him calmly. "I'd say that's a question for you to ask the Lord-Commander after he and I finish our discussion," she responded serenely in her slight Southern accent, in a tone that almost made her sound reasonable.

The man blinked at her and narrowed his eyes, trying to analyze what it was that he might have been missing. "Are you crazy?" She smiled and shook her head, feeling the irony as she did so. "Are you a visiting dignitary?" The words popped out of his mouth almost as quickly as they'd entered his mind. She tilted her head and pointed to the mask, then pulled a small pouch from a pack on the side of her saddle, unzipping it and riddling through it just briefly before retrieving a thin metal rectangle. She offered it to the lieutenant and drew her spine up to full height, watching him as he studied the small piece. Once he caught the correct detail, he quickly flashed his surprised eyes up to hers, then to her mask, then to the card again. "Is this what I think it is?" She nodded slowly. His face was apparently skeptical. He studied the card again, then handed it back to her. "If you're lying, we'll execute you. Do you understand that?"

Aves nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything to the contrary," she answered coolly.

A long silence followed as the lieutenant continued to examine her suspiciously from where he stood. Finally, he cleared his throat and nodded to one of the scouts nearby. "Ride ahead and let the Lord-Commander know someone from the Las Vegas caravan is here," he instructed, then turned to the two who had brought Aves to him. "Take her there. But ride slow." He looked back up to Aves and nodded disattachedly, turning on his heels to go back to the small outpost along the defense line.

"This way, ma'am," one of them said politely, off to her left, as they began to ride out.

# # #

"There they are." Aves turned her head to look at what the voice to her right indicated, spotting the small group gathered at one of the outposts a short distance away.

"Thank you," she responded, keeping her tone calm and devoid of any kind of inflection to indicate her state of mind. They less they knew, the better. "Does your Lord-Commander typically inspect defensive structures?"

Silence. Aves rolled her eyes and smirked, and kept pace with the pair as they picked up their speed to reach the small group as quickly as possible. Before she knew it, they were there.

"My Lord-Commander, the trade envoy we spotted earlier has arrived." The trooper who had ridden forward was speaking to the largest of the group, a man who towered over the others by a good head in height. He turned to look at the small figure on the horse between his two troopers.

"Good afternoon. Nice to have someone from Sin City here today."

Aves nodded politely, and reached a hand up to her ear to pull off her face mask. She smiled courteously and extended a hand toward the man who could only be the Lord-Commander, even legendary in certain parts of the Paradise Republic. "Welcome to the San Joaquin Valley, Lord-Commander," she greeted brightly, allowing a genuine smile to work its way across her face. "It seems as though you've been busy."

The big man took the offered hand and shook it, smiling approval at her grip, noting all at once that she was pretty, well-built, and, for some reason, carried a guitar on her back.

"Well met, I am afraid you have the advantage on me, I do not know your name, Miss ...?" He left the last part hanging in the air.

She made a quick face and laughed to herself. "I apologize. I'm Aves Beckett. I'm part of the Las Vegas Proper Council, western capital of the Paradise Republic." She held her face mask up briefly to gesture at the simple emblem. "I'm a leader of the Las Vegas Proper Artisans, as well. Forgive me."

"Ah, of course, the name is familiar to me. A pleasure, Miss Beckett. And, yes, we have been busy. A hard night's work, you might say." He said with a thin smile as a waved his hand back toward Bakersfield. "I assume you are here on a trade mission. If so, please be assured that we do not make war on merchants unless they provide intelligence to our enemies." For a moment his face was deadly serious but then he smiled again. "I have of course heard of your skill with a guitar, I hope you and your fellows will join for a victory feast this evening."

She held her expression and nodded for a moment, keeping her eyes looking ahead confidently for a moment. "That's kind of you. But first, I should inform you why I'm here," she stated squarely, then turned to look back over her shoulder as she pulled her left leg forward and over her saddle, sliding off and onto the dirt, avoiding allowing the guitar to disrupt her descent. She didn't break her eye contact, despite the sudden drastic drop. The horse had certainly given her an advantage of height. "I'm not here to trade, Lord-Commander. I'd like to discuss something different." She gave him another nod. "It's quite confidential."

The Lord-Commander raised his eyebrow for a moment and then, after a moment's pause, nodded back. If there had been anything he was expecting from this diminutive woman, this was most certainly not it. Whatever had come into this woman's mind couldn't have been more than a day old, since it was doubtful she had known he would be there. He was intrigued.

He turned to the men that stood with him and gave them a curt nod. "Gentlemen, a moment if you please."

The officers nodded and moved a dozen paces away, just out of earshot but close enough they could still be called upon if needed. Around them small groups of disconsolate civilians were making their way out of the city under the watchful eye of red-and-bronze-clad soldiers.

Aves waited patiently until the Lord-Commander shifted his attention back to her. She nodded and took a deep breath.

For all the years she'd thought about doing this, for all the moments she'd told herself that one day this might happen and how it would be so gratifying to do, for all the time she'd spent envisioning this moment... she found herself feeling slightly more anxious about it than she'd imagined she'd be. However, it had to be done. It made sense.

"I'm here to help you take Las Vegas Proper, and the western portion of the Paradise Republic."

Of all the things that the Lord-Commander had been expecting, this was most certainly not amongst even his wildest expectations. He didn't try to hide the genuine look of surprise that flitted briefly across his face as the possibilities of what she was saying raced through his head.

Taking Las Vegas would be useful, of that there was no doubt. It straddled the only decent road through the desert and south into Arizona. Despite its rather remote location, it had come through The Change quite well due to the efforts of a collective of determined and skilled individuals, and the young woman standing before him had been one of its architects. 

"And why would you do that, Miss Beckett?" He said the words slowly. He would make no promises himself; the Lord-Marshal had an ultimate plan, but this offer could change it.

Aves dug her boot heel into the ground. So many ways to answer the question, but not enough time to go into specific details, nor the desire to; she had no evidence to assume that any of Sacramento's leadership would perceive hearing the entire story as being valuable intelligence or the ramblings of an overly-emotional and bitter woman. The entire story would come out in the near-future, anyhow.

The entire story was too much to get into at that moment, anyway, even if there was time and interest.

"I'd like to do that," she started, continuing to grip onto the reins to keep any anxiety distracted from creeping into her facial expression or body language, "because I think Sacramento can do a better job of protecting Las Vegas than Las Vegas can."

A smile tugged at the corner of the Lord-Commanders lips at the words. Whether it was amusement or a snarl it was hard to tell.

“I suspect that Las Vegas considers itself in need of protection from us rather than anyone else. I am however intrigued by your offer and I am sure the Lord-Marshal would equally be so.”

He jerked his head toward the lines of refugees slowly winding their way north. Already other groups were moving south from the waiting group brought by the army and being assigned houses.

“You can move north with them, if you like. I can provide you an identity disc that will you to arrive unmolested at the capital. Or do you prefer to stay here with us for now?"

Aves smiled appreciatively while eyeing the line preparing to go northward along the highway. "Thank you, Lord-Commander. I'm grateful. If you feel I should travel north to give the Lord-Marshal the details, then that's what I should do. Besides—"she watched the traveling group as the man had just indicated—"it looks like you have a lot of work to do."

"It would be best I think." He said and then drew a golden disc from the belt at his waist and handed it to her. It was small, no more than a few inches across, with the impaled sun in the middle. One the back side it had a strange looking rune on it. The Lord-Commander offered no explanation of the marking.

He turned and snapped his fingers towards the two troopers who had brought Aves into the city to begin with. They slid off their horses and hurried forward, saluting as they reached them.

"Gentlemen, Miss Beckett is to be taken to the Capital. She is to be delivered to the Lord-Marshal with all haste." He turned back to her. "Miss Beckett. These men will see you to the capital. This," he held up the disc, "will provide you all food, drink, shelter and fresh horses at any location you stop. Give it to no one but the Lord-Marshal himself."

He looked as if he was about to dismiss them when he paused, glancing toward the distant ridge line, then back at her.

"What would you like us to do with your comrades-in-arms?"

She palmed the disc and carefully placed it in an inner pocket of her long brown coat. She turned to steady her hands on either side of her saddle, then lifted a foot into the stirrup and hopped up effortlessly to prepare to ride again. She looked back toward the Lord-Commander and offered a gracious smile. "Thank you for your help," she replied warmly. She turned to look in the direction that he did, just southeast, back where she new the others were still waiting. Nervously, at that, was as much as she knew. "If it pleased you, I ask that you leave them be. They're my friends. They're not well-armed. They don't have any intentions toward you," she spoke just audibly, "and none of them are part of the problem." She swiveled her head back to look at him again. "The problems are back in Las Vegas itself." She paused briefly as she worked the mask back over her face, then held a gloved hand out toward him. "Thank you for your assistance, Lord-Commander. Perhaps we will be seeing each other again soon."

His massive hand closed over hers and for a moment he held the grip, his brown, almost black eyes, seeming to search her soul. After a few seconds he released her hand and stepped back from the horse.

"Then we shall let them be. If they ask for you, we will deny everything." He chuckled. "If your words are true, believe me, we will see each other again soon. Ride swiftly and safely."

He turned away from her and back toward the officers who were still waiting for him. The two troopers closed in behind her as she began to ride. They were there for her protection as much as to ensure that she did not stray, of that there could be no doubt.

Aves knew the path to Sacramento. Highway 99. Almost 300 miles to Sacramento. She'd studied the highway routes so often. It wouldn't be impossible to do reach the city within five days. It was about the same distance from Bakersfield to Las Vegas. It would be best if she managed to carry out her plan and still have the ability to be back in the city within a few weeks—before anyone would come looking for her.

Time was of the essence.