Family vs Patriotism

[Wesker]

Fresnes, Planet New Paris, Ill-De-France
06/5/741 A.G.S, 20:45

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Nearly a month had gone by, and in just that small amount of time the world had seemed to shift in Gallia. The hearts of the people really began to shift, more and more people began to oppose the King's war - a war that would never succeed. The lack of obedience and instability in the Gallic advance had led to several "cracks" in the Gallic advance. What was once a steady, controlled front, was now softening with open flanks and lost assets. Tau-44 had completely fallen under the control of the Crayter Republic, and the Gallic Council had begun it's advance to both Picardy and Orkeny. Rumors even began to speculate that the Council had begun to enter Provence as well, these movements were met with significant lack of faith in the already questionable leader. The security and power the Gallic people had once enjoyed slowly began to collapse on itself, and so did the people's faith in the system.

With such resistance and question of authority, the King had resorted to fear to control the population; granted - he had in the past. However, the need for fear to keep the enormous population in check reached to higher points than ever before. What was more noticeably frightening, was that military assets as well had begun to loose faith; clearly displaying lack of discipline and loyalty Gallia's most entrusted and respected community. With the defection of the Oblique, thousands of soldiers across the front began to lack fear in what was regarded the greatest insult to any nation - treason. Or so it was defined by the king. Traitors to the Navy were met with more brutality than that of the civilian populous to begin with, however with the loss of the Oblique the penalties for Navy personnel were narrowed down to just one - execution.

This was nothing new for Alice, the stubbornness of the Navy's advance was always one met with only moderate success. Luckily for her, LeBlanc was no idiot in noting the same when the two did holster more authority over the advance; and as such the two had never ended up under a guillotine. Still, Alice never imagined it would come down to her own crew losing faith, not because of the King - but because of her.

The Fresnes prison had begun sucking in more of it's "unfaithful" populous. With lack of space in the Gallic advance, PoWs had begun mixing in with proclaimed "traitors to the Roi" as it were said. The bulk of the executions were held in the nation's capital, where only the most loyal of residents to the crown were permitted to live. Bernard and a few other crewmen who lashed out in light of Marie's demise had been transferred to the The Fresnes prison, falling under the categories of "traitors", they were scheduled to be executed - Marie would not let that happen.

Fuck off, Traitre! One of the guards cussed as he gutted Bernard with his fist, the guard at his other side didn't pay any mind to what was going on. The other one however, was really enjoying the walk. Bernard walked a little every second as the guards pushed him down the hall, past every cell until they eventually reached his designated cell. The cell was large, but it looked empty from the outside. There was no lighting within, and Bernard couldn't tell if being a single occupant really /was/ healthy for him at the moment.

He didn't have time to think about it, the cell door opened as he stood in front of it. The guards responded by shoving him in, and closing the door behind him before he could even think to speak.

Bernard sat up, his cuffs still on his wrist, he was dressed in a dirty long sleeve shirt and equally ruined trousers - courtesy of the facility. Water ran down his face and drenched his hair, but most noticeably - he had a black eye and bruises all over his face. It was obvious he had either been waterboarded, or probably just jumped by the guards, neither was really uncommon.

Bernard sat up, as his breathing calmed he looked about the room -which was now more visible- and took note of someone else sitting on one of the beds in the cell. He couldn't really put two and two together on who it could be, given how large the facility was and the types of people in it, it could be anyone. Bernard leaned against the wall and looked over, breathing in a bit more before spewing out one distinct phrase.

Who the fuck are you?

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