The Revolution Came

Chapter 34: Thoughts

January 31st, 1936
Brooksville

The Senate's decision had sent ripples across the Republic. In Brooksville, those ripples had turned into waves of violence.

Mey took cover with the men of the 212th Battalion as they attempted to de-escalate the riot at the courthouse. The trial had become the catalyst for chaos, many in the crowd wanted to see Commanders Thompson and Lawrence sent to the guillotine for their perceived betrayal, while others sought to defend them, blaming the government's increasing authoritarianism for the crisis.

Their removal from command had thrown their former units into disarray. With no time for proper reassignment, General Gabriel Foringhi, one of the most feared generals from the Revolutionary War, was placed in charge of riot suppression. He had a ruthless reputation, and his leadership signaled a more aggressive approach from the government.

But for now, under Karl's command,, Mey and the 212th had one mission, prevent the riot from spiraling into full-scale bloodshed.

The rules of engagement were clear:

Lethal force was only authorized in self-defense.

Crowds were to be dispersed with minimal violence if possible.

Military police were to apprehend instigators, not execute them.

Any officer exceeding force limitations would be court-martialed.

But rules meant little when chaos erupted.

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

For a heartbeat, silence followed. Then, all hell broke loose.

The fragile peace shattered as gunfire erupted between National Guard units, loyal soldiers, and the rebels. Civilians screamed and ran for cover as radicals seized the moment to escalate the conflict.

Mey clenched his jaw. Somewhere in this chaos, he had an informant inside the rebel ranks. He just prayed she wouldn't be caught in the crossfire.

"Commodore! The rebels are moving to our southern flank!" Commander Lovington shouted.

Mey turned sharply, his mind calculating. "Inform Captain Vrooks to move his forces to reinforce our southern flank and defend our supply lines," he ordered, his voice steady despite the turmoil.

His eyes scanned the carnage around him, the symbols of a Republic in crisis.

"Hold the line. Engage only if fired upon," he added, forcing his voice to remain calm. Commander Lovington nodded before saluting and rushing to deliver the orders.

But Mey knew the truth. The moment the first shot had been fired, the rules of engagement would be difficult, if not impossible, to enforce.

As explosions and gunfire rattled the courthouse, the Republic's fate teetered on the edge. What had begun as a political maneuver in the Senate chamber had now spilled into the streets, and Mey knew, this was only the beginning.

Brooksville Prison

The stone walls of Brooksville Prison were damp with moisture, the scent of sweat and gunpowder thick in the air. Commander Pratts knelt on the cold floor, blood dripping from his split lip. Around him, the Brooksville National Guard were lined up, their hands bound behind their backs, guarded by Braddock's rebels.