Ficlet: Extreme Measures
Title: Extreme Measures
Fandom/original: original
Rating: Rish
A/N: A 15 minute fic exchange with rougen. The prompt was "decimate."
It looked like there had been a war.
Yuri knew that wasn't it, not exactly. There hadn't been a proper war in the region for decades. But there'd been word of some small separatists making some trouble in local villages.
That didn't begin to cover it.
Clara came jogging up from the other direction. "They took the children."
He looked up sharply, from where he'd been crouching by a man's corpse, trying to determine how long he'd been dead. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. There are a couple survivors, who barricaded themselves in the church. They shot all the men, raped the women to death, but they took the children with them." She was shaking with badly suppressed anger.
Yuri got to his feet. "Did they have any idea why?"
'No," Clara said, "but I do."
He gestured for them to walk farther into town, trying to get them away from the line of corpses. (It was no good, it turned out - the bodies littered the street like the debris of a parade. Still, at least they were in motion.) "What's your theory?"
"The partisans realize they'll never win through military force. But if they can raise a generation... hell, if they can raise one in ten young citizens to hate the government... they'd have a crack at it in ten year. It's a long game, Yuri, but it makes sense, in a way."
"That's..."
"That's how I'd do it," she said, softly, the rage still underscoring her tone. "If I were them. Let the children be rescued or found when they're nine or ten. They'll get folded back into society. You're seeding your own revolution."
"And the massacre?" Yuri hid the fact he felt a bit sick.
Clara shrugged. "If I'm right? A means to an end. I'm sure they're enough sick men among those who enforce the policy that it gets worse."
The chill of autumn was in the air, just lightly. It should have been harvest time, time for fairs. This sort of country village should have been awash in activity.
Instead it was full of corpses. None of them looked younger than 17 or 18.
His partner looked at them too, coldly, then said, "Come on, Yuri. Nothing left to do here."
"We're going to get those kids," he informed her, steadily.
"...of course we are."
It would be dark, soon.
Fandom/original: original
Rating: Rish
A/N: A 15 minute fic exchange with rougen. The prompt was "decimate."
It looked like there had been a war.
Yuri knew that wasn't it, not exactly. There hadn't been a proper war in the region for decades. But there'd been word of some small separatists making some trouble in local villages.
That didn't begin to cover it.
Clara came jogging up from the other direction. "They took the children."
He looked up sharply, from where he'd been crouching by a man's corpse, trying to determine how long he'd been dead. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. There are a couple survivors, who barricaded themselves in the church. They shot all the men, raped the women to death, but they took the children with them." She was shaking with badly suppressed anger.
Yuri got to his feet. "Did they have any idea why?"
'No," Clara said, "but I do."
He gestured for them to walk farther into town, trying to get them away from the line of corpses. (It was no good, it turned out - the bodies littered the street like the debris of a parade. Still, at least they were in motion.) "What's your theory?"
"The partisans realize they'll never win through military force. But if they can raise a generation... hell, if they can raise one in ten young citizens to hate the government... they'd have a crack at it in ten year. It's a long game, Yuri, but it makes sense, in a way."
"That's..."
"That's how I'd do it," she said, softly, the rage still underscoring her tone. "If I were them. Let the children be rescued or found when they're nine or ten. They'll get folded back into society. You're seeding your own revolution."
"And the massacre?" Yuri hid the fact he felt a bit sick.
Clara shrugged. "If I'm right? A means to an end. I'm sure they're enough sick men among those who enforce the policy that it gets worse."
The chill of autumn was in the air, just lightly. It should have been harvest time, time for fairs. This sort of country village should have been awash in activity.
Instead it was full of corpses. None of them looked younger than 17 or 18.
His partner looked at them too, coldly, then said, "Come on, Yuri. Nothing left to do here."
"We're going to get those kids," he informed her, steadily.
"...of course we are."
It would be dark, soon.