A few days after the files on the arson case closed.

At Lusty’s penthouse.

Macaroni was on her laptop making a presentation for her fire science class.

“Don’t know how to use a computer,” said Lusty. “I know how to use a typewriter but if I tried to use a computer then I’ll break it. But you had almost a decade to work with a computer but I mostly used a typewriter.”

Macaroni replied, “The similarities that the two have are keyboards even though Typewriters have mechanical ones while computers have electrical ones. So I’m sure you can type on a computer. But I’m not letting you use my laptop because I don’t want you to break it trying to find a way to save my presentation. Also for another topic when I got my dual citizenship it was a lot harder than I expected.”

“Since July 21st of last year,” said Lusty, “All of Little Bird have been on Red Alert One. It is an official Little Bird Armed Forces emergency plan that deals with situations where Soviet or Communist forces have landed on Little Bird in which all of the Little Bird Armed Forces become ready and mobilize within three hours. So yeah the ones who want to become citizens when Red Alert One was activated it makes it a lot more harder because of intensive background checks and whatnot.

"If it was Blue Alert One then you wouldn’t be here and that’s not a death threat. Red for the Communists and the Warsaw Pact and Blue for the Americans and NATO. Even though a majority of our weapons are licensed versions of American and European mostly German weapons. Unless this was the Second World War in which the Little Bird Infantry Divisions were trained that if any Werchmant soldier surrendered then take them prisoner but if any SS Soldier surrendered then it was open season. Actually on December 22nd, 1944 just four days after the Malmedy massacre in Belgium that a regiment of Little Bird Marines from the 9th Marine Division when they captured a platoon of SS soldiers and a Squad of Wehrmacht Heer infantry well they lined the SS soldiers up and threw Molotov Cocktails at them. Well I’m going to be late for work.”

***

At the firehouse.

Lusty looked at the sky where two Squadrons of jets from the Little Bird 23rd Multirole Fighter Squadron flew overhead. Lusty decided to say half of what her father would've said in Vietnam whenever an American A-7 Corsair II, F-4 Phantom II, F-100 Super Sabers, F-104 Starfighter, A-4 Skyhawk and F-105 Thunderchiefs fly overhead.

“Good hunting, boys,” said Lusty.

Lusty only said half of what her father would say and her father when he was in the Little Bird Marines he said was “Good hunting, boys... I'm keepin' my boots on the ground.”

The jets soon left Lusty’s eyesight range. She remembered how different Little Bird and the United States was during the Vietnam war of how the US Government chose targets for the US Navy and Air Force to strike so it wouldn’t infuriate the Soviets and Chinese including they had bombing halts to give the North Vietnamese a chance to reconsider war support in the south. Little Bird treated the war as a war and let the Department of the AirForce and the Department of the Navy choose their targets as long as they were military targets like airfields and SAM sites.

Lusty went to the locker room and she put her olive drab duffle bag that has an upside-down blue pentagon with a human skull in the center with five five-pointed white stars and it’s the shoulder patch of the Little Bird Ninth Marine Division.

Lusty even rubbed her head because from time to time it hurts even though she can’t get hit on the head again without getting brain damage that’ll prevent her from staying a firefighter even though she’s already riding on a line. She knows that any kind of blow or strike to her head would put her on disability from the fire department and as an armored car guard but she wouldn’t care living off 90 bucks a week from the fire department and 98 bucks per week as an armored car guard.

Lusty then went to the officer’s quarters and she found an envelope addressed to her and she opened it. It’s from the City of Empire District Attorney’s office and it says that she’s a witness and expert that the prosecution is going to bring in when a trial begins within a few months if the two members of the owners of the Empire branch of Echelon Enterprises don’t take a plea deal. Not adding that one reason she was summoned when it happens is that people have an respect for the fire department and firefighters not that they have authority but they’re highly respected and that they can paint a clearer picture. To Lusty one reason she might get the jury’s attention and say that the Squad companies and Rescue companies were formed and created to drag out dead bodies in incidents that could’ve been prevented if people don’t take the low road.

Then Lusty decided to talk to herself. She asked herself questions that either the prosecutor or defense attorney might ask.

“So Lieutenant Johnson, how long have you been with the FDE?” said Lusty, talking to herself, “Ten years to be exact.”

Lusty then took a sip of her coffee.

“Lieutenant Johnson in your opinion in your ten years within the fire service have you ever seen negligence like this?” said Lusty still talking to herself, “I have. When that happens either my Squad company or Squad 525 or either or both Rescue squads get called in to remove either dead bodies or our fallen firefighters.

"But in my experience after the trial, the two are going to go back making money and act like nothing happened. But in my opinion, the two over there think that their rights are more important than the few thousand that they killed for urban development. I know that a lot if not every single CEO, COO, and other rich person think their rights are more important than everyone else.

"After all those arsons I lost friends and people who I would call family. They had rights and I’ll never get to talk to them again, I’ll never see them again and whatnot but they had rights they refused to sell their homes, tenements, and places of work. I know a lot of people who won’t see their parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, best friends, lovers and special someone.”

Dynamite replied, “A game of talking to yourself?”

“Just asking myself questions and giving myself replies that an DA or attorney may ask me,” said Lusty, “I was about to tell myself that this ain’t the Little Bird Armed Forces leaving their brother and sister in arms to die out in a field or somewhere until the battle is over. But this ain’t war because in war, if two soldiers or marines go out to retrieve an injured soldier or marine then they’ll become an defenseless target for the enemy and snipers. Well that’s what my dad told me about how whenever the NVA or VC would’ve attacked their firebase that if a marine got hit and was bleeding out then they were prohibited from carrying that marine to an First Aid center, Medical building, Medic/Corpsman station or an Casualty Clearing building.

"Unlike our American counterparts in the Second World War whom they had removable armbands but for the Little Bird Armed Forces our medics and Corpsmen they had armbands that were sewed onto the upper sleeves of the upper-arms and four red circles with an white cross in the red circles on the helmet. That made them prime targets. Oh I know that my dad was a makeshift LBMC Corpsman whenever the VC or NVA attack on their firebase concluded but that’s because of the Marines being versatile in different tasks.”

Dynamite replied, “Yeah even though I was a Combat Engineer I was also trained as an Automatic rifleman, Radiotelephone operator, medic and forward observer. Yes, I may be a woman but I identify as a tomboy and don't like it then bite me. Oh you got a photo of your dad?”

Lusty went to her locker and got a photo of when she was twelve and it was the only photograph of her, her mom, and dad together. There was another photo that Lusty has of her father in 1971 during the Vietnam war and the second photo has her dad reading a comic book with a beer can in his hand.

“Technician First Grade huh?” said Dynamite, “Your dad looks cute. He’s a typical marine with a can of beer but he was what? A year in the country? Probably survived dozens of attacks by the NVA or VC or both?”

Lusty replied, “He was a Private First Class after being demoted from a Sergeant for taking the fall for something he didn’t do. Also, my parents are dead. They were nice and kind but I think you and my dad would’ve gotten along because of you two being Marines.”

“Let me guess you got summoned as an expert witness or something like that by the DA?” asked Dynamite.

Lusty replied, “Yup. But now I’m doing both of talking myself of what a DA and a Defense attorney would or might ask me. Also, I’m just thinking about our city’s staffing shortage though. Five companies have already been taken out of service for lack of staffing. Engine 23, Ladder 33, 53, 59, and 71 have been taken out of service because out of 28 members per company per shift 98% of them got drafted to go fight in the war. This city is in a crisis. Our numbers are down to the late 1800s to early 1900s before the First World War. But the kissass bureaucratics will just say that everything is fine.

"Yeah great about a century ago but the bureaucrats have never stopped to stop and think that this city has grown since 1942 but they rather keep our city services as it was pre-1942. The city was only 47 ish miles back in pre-1942 but grew to 77 miles by 1945 to accommodate for the numerous people who came to the city to work in the factories to support the war effort. But nope the city hasn’t accommodated for fire, police, medical, garbage, education and transportation. The schools I went to just got the basic funding to teach and feed us and that was it we had no AC and it was terrible especially for a lot of students who came from gym class who refused to put on deodorant.”

Lusty then got a piece of drawing paper out and she used a pen and she decided to draw a semi detailed fire engine in which how she wants the next apparatus for Squad 141 to be but she put that she wants a better engine for a faster response than the Sports tuned engines that’s standard for the fire apparatus on Little Bird. She would rather have a supercharged engine but Lusty has no problem with the bullet resistant whitewall tires.

Lusty also decided to remember that when she was in middle school she remembered how she came home and overheard her parents talking about how they abhor the city of Empire public schools because they hate the standardized testing and half of the classes she was taught just went in one ear out the other. Not adding when she entered middle school they taught Lusty commutative algebra not elementary algebra, advanced algebra, abstract algebra, linear algebra beforehand. But she learned basic math in elementary school.

She remembers how her father said that the school system either wanted Lusty to go to college or be a homemaker or that the school probably wanted her to be a criminal even though the city of Empire had a high crime rate throughout the 1980s and the early half of the 1990s. But she remembered that back in the third grade her teacher during a project that students say what they want to do when they become an adult, Lusty said she wanted to be either a firefighter or a musician but her third grade teacher told Lusty that she'd be living off of her back collecting welfare checks per month while living off of her couch doing nothing.

A sense of resolve washed over Lusty as she began to mentally prepare for the impending court case. She started a rigorous exercise of self-interrogation, mulling over questions that she anticipated would come from both the prosecution and defense attorneys. She steeled herself against any attempts to discredit her or undermine her testimony, maintaining an unwavering determination not to buckle under pressure. She recognized the importance of painting a vivid and convincing picture of the event she witnessed, yet a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach suggested a disappointing outcome.

Lusty had grown up with the belief, deeply ingrained in her by the community, that the justice system was unduly lenient towards the wealthy, while the poor were treated with disproportionate harshness. She knew of cases where the affluent got away with just a slap on the wrist, a mere token fine, or a handful of community service hours. In stark contrast, a poor individual could face severe penalties for minor misdemeanors. The memory of her old neighbor, sentenced to twenty years for an insignificant offense like littering, was a grim reminder of this disparity.

The neighborhood where Lusty grew up had a different way of handling disputes; physical confrontations often ended with the victor helping the defeated party up, and then they would move on as friends. The idea of involving law enforcement in such matters seemed alien to them. In fact, she recalled instances when police intervention had been short-lived, with the combatants resuming their fight as soon as the officers left the scene.

Lusty often found herself longing for a middle-class upbringing. She believed that had her parents been financially better off, they might have removed her from the public school system and placed her in a private institution. She felt that the public schools in her city of Empire were more interested in securing funds than providing quality education. Despite her average IQ, she was thrust into advanced and AP classes that were beyond her comprehension. She yearned for a more balanced approach to education, one that prioritized the needs and capabilities of the students.

As she moved into the kitchen, news from the city of Empire caught her attention. The city was planning to cut the fire department's members per apparatus by two, reducing the team from seven to five. She found the move alarming, as studies had consistently shown that smaller teams were less efficient, costing crucial minutes in emergency situations.

The city had already faced backlash when they shut down Squad 141, resulting in increased response times. The citizens she heard being interviewed on the news were vocally critical of the reduction in numbers, especially given the ongoing military draft that was depleting the civil services.

Lusty herself was spared from the draft due to her status as a single parent. She compared her situation to that of her wealthy ex-girlfriend Zofia, whose mother had simply bought her exemption from military service. The practice had earned Zofia the nickname "Ten thousand dollar woman" in Lusty's eyes, a reflection of the amount the wealthy paid to avoid the draft. Meanwhile, the city was still in need of additional manpower, particularly in the fire department, where the reduced staffing levels and increased workload had many firefighters working overtime to cover for those called back to military service.

***

At night.

“Ignore them, just focus on the fire,” said Lusty. “The people here won’t bother us and ignore the cops. If the cops tell us to turn our 1 ¾ and 2 ½ inch attack lines on the people here. My old neighbors won't harm us if I'm here and if we don't turn our hoses on them just focus on fighting this structure fire of a new fast food joint the city approves to be built. Just keep the fires away from any construction equipment that's flammable and explosive.”

They did but soon over the radio Lusty was asked if she could spare one member to respond to a medical emergency one block north of their current location. So Lusty sent Dynamite who was helping the Engineer/Chauffeur making sure they don’t lose any pressure and making sure the water is running from the hydrant to the Rescue Engine and to both the 1 ¾ and 2 ½ inch attack lines that’s being used by Avalanche, Gallow, and Irving and they had an set of hands that were free.

Dynamite got a medical jump bag and went to the location but soon she radioed that she had a problem so Lusty got an ax and went where there was a group of anarchists who were behind a police barrier. It looked like a metallic police crowd control barrier even though it wasn’t.

Lusty wasn’t having any of it and kicked the crowd control barrier down and started to walk with Dynamite behind her. But someone came and told the two that they should leave while they could because they’re not supposed to be here but Lusty gave Dynamite her ax and Dynamite took it.

“See you have an assault rifle,” said Lusty. “Point it in my face and see what happens.”

The guy did but in a heartbeat Lusty snatched it out of the guy’s hand and pointed it right into his face.

“Doesn't feel good either!” Lusty said hostilely, “Get the fuck out of our way or youre going to be a victim as well. And none of you better harm me or none of you will be leaving Eastside alive where all of you will be laying on the ground and when all of you are laying on the ground wanting mercy they'll walk by and won't show no mercy!”

Lusty kept the gun but she didn't leave Dynamite until the patient was stabilized enough to be either carried or can walk out. But Lusty wasn't mincing words either that if they hurt her in any way then they'll regret it.

Lusty acted like a guard and when leaving Lusty had her back turned to Dynamite to keep an eye on the group but Lusty got shot in the leg but as she warned her old neighbors came to her defense with weapons ready loaded with live ammo. Dynamite patched up Lusty's gunshot wound but told her that it was through but it'll be better if she sees a doctor to make sure it doesn't get infected or worse. But Lusty told her that she'll walk it off like how she had walked off every injury she had in the past in where her mother would've told her to sit down, rest up so it can heal in contrast where Lusty's dad would've told her to walk it off and Lusty always listened to her dad.

***

The next day. Lusty went to a 1950s diner.

She ordered a slice of freshly baked apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top and a cup of coffee.

Just as she was about to take her first bite, a man approached her. His stern demeanor suggested business, "Ms. Johnson, the Mayor's office of Empire has extended a rather firm request. They want you to leave the city and not return."

Lusty looked at him, her eyes twinkling with defiance, "I'm well acquainted with people who adore Willy Pete. Its most compelling attribute is its tenacity, its refusal to be extinguished by water. But let's keep one thing clear," she paused, leaning in, "By law, neither a police officer, the mayor, nor anyone from his office has the legal authority to expel anyone from a city. A city is a public place, accessible to all citizens. Barring a serious crime that results in a court conviction, no one can force a person out. That's only reserved for special cases.”

She then resumed her abandoned task, taking a bite of her apple pie, her gaze remaining fixed on the man with a cold intensity that could only be described as a death glare. Upon finishing her dessert and coffee, she settled her bill, a mere fifty cents, before exiting the diner. Her next destination was Eastside, a part of town she hadn't visited in a while.

As she journeyed to the Eastside, a flood of memories engulfed her. She vividly remembered the mandatory PTA meetings her parents were coerced into attending. Particularly, the one where her math teacher had unabashedly announced her apparent struggle with the subject. Her parents had defended her, arguing that she was being taught complex concepts she wasn't ready to grasp. Instead, they'd taken it upon themselves to teach her practical math skills that would serve her well in real life, as opposed to theoretical math that would only be useful to a rocket scientist.

Her parents worked a hard nine to twelve hours a day for five days a week only earning well her dad earned $1.50 per hour as an janitor while her mother salary varied from job to job because she was a temp and she filled in for people and either earned 0.50 cents an hour to $3.50 per hour even though she made a lot more as an therapist before losing her license to a guy who wanted Lusty's mother to leave her husband and then infant Claire 'Lusty'Johnson but Lusty's mother was a very loyal to her boyfriend turned husband and never left his side not even when her friends told her to leave him when he was in Vietnam.

Contrastingly, her PE/Gym teacher had praised her athletic prowess, although he had cautioned her about her aggressive throws in Dodgeball and Baseball that were strong enough to send a student to the nurse's office or shatter a wooden baseball bat. Her other academic performances had been satisfactory, except for science.

While her parents had made it clear that they didn't envision her as a scientist, they did support her aspirations of being a musician or a firefighter. In an unexpected turn of events, the science education she'd received inadvertently aided her in specializing in combating metallic fires as a firefighter.

Lusty held a deep-seated disdain for city hall and the affluent, a resentment that had taken root during her formative years. It was a result of witnessing their lavish expenditures, either on their own opulence or frivolous city projects, while her high school, overflowing with students, languished in neglect.

Her high school years were marked by the tormenting experience of studying in an institution designed for 1,784 students, but crammed with 7,000. The city had made countless promises to build a new high school to alleviate the overcrowding but the allocated funds were consistently redirected elsewhere. The last time her high school saw an update was in 1959. A full twenty years before Lusty was born.

A vivid and chilling memory from Lusty's tenth grade still haunted her. A fire caused by a short-circuiting wire had engulfed the school. Out of the 7,000 students, only 1,200, including Lusty, managed to escape before the fire department's arrival. Another 5,000 were rescued by firefighters, many suffering from severe smoke inhalation and fourth-degree burns. Tragically, 799 didn't make it. This incident served as Lusty's first encounter with a shocking tragedy, providing her with a bitter taste of the harsh realities she would face later as a firefighter.

She recalled reading the incident reports during her training at the fire academy. Lieutenant Lambert of Engine 47 had immediately radioed for a fourth alarm assignment. Upon arriving at the scene, he escalated it to an eighth alarm, calling for every ambulance and mass casualty units in the city. While Lusty would rather forget this chapter of her life, it was an essential part of her journey, shaping her perspective on tragedy.

At a silent vigil held in the aftermath, Lusty found herself punching a wealthy individual who insinuated that the tragedy could have been prevented. She retorted that it indeed could have, had the rich not diverted funds intended for school renovations to refurbish a country club in Tallwood, the city's rich district.

Mayor Abigail Martinez had raised funds for school renovations, but her warnings fell on deaf ears among the rest of city hall. Lusty remembered how politicians expressed their sorrow in the newspapers. However, she also remembered her parents' cynical view: the politicians were not genuinely upset but merely afraid of the difficult questions that were bound to arise.

President Bill Waterson, visibly moved at a press conference, launched an investigation to find those responsible for redirecting the funds. Lusty respected Mayor Martinez who, despite facing opposition, also initiated an internal investigation.

In the aftermath of the fire, Lusty and her classmates were transferred to a new high school. However, being located in an impoverished neighborhood, the school buses often failed to arrive. It took the intervention of Mayor Martinez to ensure they received transportation. Lusty's parents, placing their daughter's welfare above their jobs, were always there for her, even if it meant confronting law enforcement.

Lusty was always haunted by the city's negligence. Since 1972, the Fire Department City of Empire inspected the school and repeatedly labeled it a "Death Trap." Despite these warnings, the city would swiftly reopen the school, dismissing its dilapidated conditions - rotten floors, mold-infested ceilings, broken HVAC system that was last updated in 1961 and more.

Even when the school failed to meet the minimum requirements of the Little Bird Fire Protection Act of 1967, 1973, and 1988, the city declared it safe, brazenly exploiting loopholes to undermine the fire department's assessments.

She remembered seeing the city’s only four Special Operations companies there, but she remembered the media’s sanitized coverage, and the tragic loss of life because it was something that they didn’t want to show others what happened but those who were or saw it live on the tv saw the tragedy. But a lot saw it because they were either there or saw it being broadcasted on live television even though Lusty had some old neighbors who would call TV as a “moving picture show box”.

As a firefighter, Lusty was driven by a strong will to save everyone, despite the harsh reality that she might not always be able to. She was trained to act swiftly against the clock, knowing that every second mattered. She constantly battled her inner fears, like when she had to rescue a fellow trainee in a smoke-filled training area even though she didn’t know the guy’s mask came off or got hung on something and came off, a harrowing experience that left an indelible mark on her psyche.

Lusty then got her daughters and went home. She saw Macaroni wearing a black muscle shirt and yellow track pants with black line on the outside against the right and left leg.

“You a part of the track team now?” asked Lusty.

Macaroni replied, “Nope. Just got back from doing a 7k run. That’s 4.35 miles in case you didn’t know. I was thinking about going back to the States to join the Navy and come back after being in the Navy for a year or two or however long enlistment is in the US Navy. Don’t care but I’ll go and do however long a Naval deployment is. Oh, what’s the craziest call you've ever gone on?”

“The craziest call I've been on was when I was temporarily on Ladder Company Thirty-Three and someone crashed a car into a crowded funeral home.” said Lusty, “Don’t even know how or what caused it. Oh another one was of a cranky neighbor who didn’t like her neighbors rigged their car to go Zero to One Hundred in a heartbeat in which she didn’t like them and tried to have them killed in which we used our Apparatus to slow down the car and when we were able to free them their car blew up.

"For what their cranky neighbor did, the cops paid her a visit to arrest her for attempted murder, terrorism, and sabotaging private property. But that woman’s house was so filthy and had stuff stacked up that the moment the cops arrested her that the city health inspector slapped a condemned sign onto the front door and had a lot of magazines dating from 1971 with magazines and other books and stuff stacked up and the house was so dirty there were bugs and roaches everywhere.

"It took three weeks for people to clean the house to get rid of junk and trash that had been piled up since 1970 and that’s before cleaning the place of replacing the carpet and tiles. It was so dirty and filthy that even when they cleaned and repaired it all of it just got dirty in a heartbeat so the city just had us burn the place down to it’s nothing but a pile of rubble.”

At Echelon Enterprise’s Empire Branch HQ.

Lusty more or less scared her company because of her face watching the fire unfold with a smile on her face. To them, It's unclear if it's a Slasher Smile or a Broken Smile, but still eerie. But the fire is reflecting off of Lusty’s eyes whereas to the rest of Squad 141 they think she’s enjoying seeing a building belonging to a multimillion-dollar corporation be on fire. If she had it her way then she would’ve had her company and other companies there to keep their hoses dry and let the building burn down to a pile of rubble.

“It’s time to show these pricks what true war means,” said Lusty, “We’ll show them that we’ll take a stand against their deadly threats. We cannot take it anymore. It's time to go to war. It’s time I remind them why there’s no greater threat than a wrath like a woman's scorn.”

Dynamite replied, “No offense Lieutenant but you need to take a few days off for your psyche.”

“They’re going to die,” said Lusty, “Anyone I see on the higher floors or in offices on the upper floors I’m leaving them behind or dragging them and putting them next to fire.”

None of them decided to say something but rather stay silent. But Lusty has crossed a threshold where the new higher ups of Echelon Enterprise want to continue with the fire and brimstone way of building new apartment buildings and condos. Instead of sending people who would admit wrongdoing they just sent people who are picking up the pieces and finishing. Or do what the two who are incarcerated and one dead left off. Not adding that the three newer people sent there they more or less said that the people who died that it’s their fault that they’re dead and the two who are in jail awaiting trial.

One dead and the three newer ones say that they did nothing wrong and are working to get them set free or released on ROR but their bail is set too high with the two each having a bail of Six billion dollars. Not adding that they were already trying to get people and witnesses to look the other way when their lawyer went to Macaroni and gave her some money to look the other way but Macaroni told their lawyer to fuck off. In Macaroni’s mind those who commit crime should face their punishment.

Even when Echelon Enterprise’s lawyer more or less threatened Macaroni that if she doesn’t look the other way then she’ll die or be in fear. But Macaroni snapped back that if they harm her or even remove one piece of her hair then her family the Waterson family who are in Little Bird or the United States will show them the true meaning of war.

Lusty would do the same. She became a firefighter to help others but now she crossed a threshold of that anyone on the upper floors of Echelon Enterprise’s Empire Branch HQ is up there then she’ll leave them there. If need be she’ll purposely jam doors to intentionally slow down her fellow firefighters from saving those on the upper floors but in Lusty’s mind. They say they’re doing a good job of using fire to burn down buildings regardless if someone is still in there or not then Lusty’s going to give them a taste of their own medicine. To her that she’s going to do that.

Even though the rest of Squad 141 has Lusty’s trust and vice versa but they think now she might be becoming mentally unstable or letting her anger get the best of her. They really can’t tell her to knock it off because then to her what’s the point of what happened and getting those files if the three newer ones will just pick up where the previous three left off.

She purposely would jam doors of executives and members who work in offices on the higher floors and what she did is illegal by purposely delaying search and rescue time but to her she feels like what she’s doing is an eye for an eye tooth for an tooth and wants the same to do for them. But those who she refused to rescue those who grabbed Lusty became unfortunate victims of her when she would slam her Tomahawk into their skull.

***

In the kitchen of the firehouse the following day.

On the TV.

“Yeah bring the full might of law enforcement to investigate why four mansions burned down last night,” said Lusty, “But when two impoverished neighborhoods when half of them burnt up to ash then say it’s just nothing but when the same happened in Tallwood then it’s now top priority for law enforcement and city hall to investigate but the same happened in Eastside and Westside then it’s ‘Oh it’s just electrical problems or it’s the people there’s fault so there’s no need to investigate.’

"The only thing I know is that Firehouse 59 radioed for HAZMAT to help fight those fires last night. Gonna give them a fight they won’t forget and the people in my old neighborhood are going to take a stand and they’re going to go to war.”

Lusty then went home when A shift was over. When she got home she saw Macaroni sitting at a table with a bag of frozen peas over her eye while she’s doing her homework.

“You okay?” asked Lusty.

Macaroni replied, “Besides getting my ass kicked last night. I’m fine. Got attacked well ambushed and attacked. Told Campus Security but they more or less told me to fuck off and it ain’t their problem so I called my family and they took over.

"They found the people who attacked me and you will be surprised at how quick they broke when one of my family members came at them with a pair of jumper cables connected to a car battery. Once they revealed who paid them well I don’t think you paid attention to the news while in your car or on the TV. But the attackers got what was coming to them. I don’t think their parents punished them hard enough when they deserved it.”

“I once threw a temper tantrum when I was five at the supermarket in Eastside,” said Lusty. “My parents gave me that stare and when I mean ‘that stare’ I mean the stare that said ‘Stop throwing a damn temper tantrum or we’ll give you a damn reason to cry. Or if you don’t stop then we’ll make you stop’ and when I didn’t my dad took me outside and he took off his leather belt and folded it in half.

"To me, it felt like the leather hurt more than the metal buckle would. My parents both gave me that stare to stop and I didn’t. If I misbehaved with them my parents had no problem using corporal punishment on me, usually the leather belt my dad had and honestly if my mom spanked me then it was more harder than my father.

"Different than when I got suspended and expelled from school for attacking someone because the guy provoked me into doing it. Guy called me a slut so I cold-cocked him in the face, he hit me back so I took my number two pencil and stabbed him in the cheek with it. My dad said I did it in self defense because the guy was bullying me and I defended myself because the teacher didn’t do anything until I picked up the pencil and shanked him right through his right cheek. My dad got expelled once in school for having to deal with a bully where in shop class the bully wouldn’t leave my dad alone so my dad his last straw broke in a metaphorical sense and for whatever reason tenth grade shop class had an nail gun and my dad used his nail gun and shot the bully right in the hand and that nail went through his hand making his hand stuck to the table.

“My dad did it again in the eleventh grade and instead of the hand it was in the guys balls making him unable to have children. Both of his bullies had to be taken to the hospital but my dad was the reason schools got rid of all types of nail guns. But when I was about to be expelled my dad said ‘Well it wouldn’t happen if my daughter’s teacher either moved her or the bully to another spot in the classroom. The teacher stood there and let the bully pick on my daughter but when Lusty defended herself then she’s the bad gal. How about I come across this desk to whip your ass for allowing this to happen and how about I whip that bully and his parents I’ll whip their asses as well and my wife can whip the bully’s mother ass as well! What are you going to do about it? Call the cops, they're not going to arrest a juvenile for defending herself. Self defense of her standing her ground because not you or the teacher did anything until my daughter was provoked to defend herself.’ At least my parents had my back even when punishing me.”

Macaroni replied, “My dad was the same. My mom wouldn’t care if I played in the middle of the street and if a car was coming at me like a bat out of hell my mom wouldn’t bat an eye. If it wasn’t for my dad then my mom would’ve been living off of her back collecting welfare checks. Honestly I like it here because at least I earn $27/week and I can rent an apartment for 80/month out of my monthly salary of 117/month and use the remainder of my money to pay bills and still have around 20 bucks remaining. Oh when you became an armored car guard did you have to do weapons training?”

“I did and my instructor said ‘You’ll never be accurate when you’re firing from the hip than as you aim down the sights’ and I always aim down my sight unless if it’s a shotgun where shotguns leave a message and that message is ‘leave me the fuck alone if you like having a face’ but yeah did training,” said Lusty. “I know how to shoot a gun and I’m not afraid to use a gun. But you were attacked by people who were paid by Echelon Enterprises?”

Macaroni replied, “Yeah but some of my family members got back at them. That fire last night at the Echelon Enterprises Empire branch HQ was set by them. Shouldn’t have said that but it's too late now.”

“If it wasn’t them then I know people who would’ve used White Phosphorus,” said Lusty, “You know Willie Pete which is used in smoke, illumination, and incendiary munitions, and is commonly the burning element of tracer ammunition. Science 101 lesson: White phosphorus is pyrophoric (it is ignited by contact with air); burns fiercely and can ignite cloth, fuel, ammunition, and other combustibles.White phosphorus is a highly efficient smoke-producing agent, reacting with air to produce an immediate blanket of phosphorus pentoxide vapor. Smoke-producing white phosphorus munitions are very common, particularly as smoke grenades for infantry, loaded in defensive grenade launchers on tanks and other armored vehicles, and in the ammunition allotment for artillery and mortars.

"These create smoke screens to mask friendly forces' movement, position, infrared signatures, and shooting positions. They are often called smoke/marker rounds for their use in marking points of interest, such as a light mortar to designate a target for artillery spotters. White Phosphorus, once ignited, burns at well above 2500 degrees Fahrenheit, and will continue burning while immersed in water, as it simply pulls oxygen from the water to maintain combustion.

"I know old neighbors who either fought in World War II or the Vietnam war. They said that one way they saved a fellow GI from being burned by White Phosphorus they had to carve out the burning fragments out of their ally's face was with a combat knife or a trench knife. But the latter it’s nothing but a combat knife but with a spiked brass knuckle around the handle of the knife so that must’ve been tricky to use without stabbing your ally by accident.

"Now that I think about it, the IR scopes for Snipers in WW II in my Opinion they were the size of a car battery. Once my dad used a Scoped Semi-Automatic Service Garand/w Night Vision scope but to him, he nearly melted his retinas by using said rifle in the middle of a bright afternoon in 1973 Vietnam. Of course, unlike the U.S. we didn’t let politicians decide targets for our military where we only had our military leaders just train soldiers and marines and then turn them loose on the NVA and VC.”

Macaroni replied, “It’s not like those who protested the war here were forced into military service but weren't given a weapon to defend themselves. It’s not like your Government and Military said ‘Well you’re going to go and you tell them that you don’t want to fight and see how long you’ll last against an AK rifle’ I highly doubt that happened.”

Lusty just looked at her and Lusty’s gaze more or less told Macaroni that what she said did happen.

“Alright I’m going go down to Echelon Entierprise’s Empire Branch HQ to rain down a little Hell,” said Lusty.

Macaroni replied, “You want some backup?”

“If I want to kill someone or have someone beaten so bad that they would be put into a medically induced coma then I’ll ask someone in your family for help.”

Lusty got in her car and went to Echelon Enterprises Empire Branch HQ.

***

Echelon Enterprises Empire Branch HQ.

“Hey I want a word with you,” said Lusty.

A man in a tailored three piece suit and a jacket replied, “I don’t have time to talk to people who are at the poverty level or impoverished level.”

As the man was about to open his limo car's back door.

“What if you got a dick so small that you need a 1000x microscope or magnifying glass to see it?” said Lusty.

The guy closed his car door, walked over to Lusty and threw a punch which Lusty dodged and punched back in self-defense.

***

Ninth Precinct.

“Alright Ms. Johnson you’re free to go,” said a police officer.

Lusty got off the wooden bench in the holding cell and went into the main lobby.

That wooden bench must’ve been here since the twelfth century, Lusty thought, Think I got splinters on the back of my legs from sitting on it for an hour.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Lusty then went to the desk and she had to sign herself out.

“Why is she getting out?” asked another man, “She attacked my client so she needs to be behind bars.”

Captain Asyling replied, “There’s no evidence to hold her. So I told my officers to have her kicked to the curb.”

“Even though she attacked my client,” said the guy.

Capt. Asyling, “Where’s your evidence? Sergeant Ryan takes the uppity-up prick to a cell and charges him with assault.”

“You could try the assault rap but it won’t stick.” said the guy. “But if I need to sue you and the police department to get my client out then I will.”

Captain Asyling replied, “You could try suing the police department rap but it won’t go through. Remember that the police officer is your friend and he/she never lies. But if you want to sue then go for it but it won’t happen. He stays and you can sue or bribe off my boss to get the guy released but if that happens then I’ll take your client outside and put two .41 Caliber bullets into his head.

"Oh I don’t buy that policeman is your friend's lie because I met a lot of cops who are bigots with badges. But go ahead and sue because it won’t make it in front of a judge and if it does go in front of a judge then the judge will throw it out and if you go to the news then people here will say ‘Who gives a shit’ so go ahead. Until then your client stays here. Don’t like it that I don’t care that I’m favoring a poor person than a rich person.”

It actually made Lusty smile a bit to see a cop actually doing her job rather than letting a rich person walk out because they have money and don’t think that the laws apply to them. But unknown to Lusty that Asyling Ryan and her identical twin sister are from Westside an identical neighborhood/district that looks like Eastside where Lusty’s from

“Wait, she can’t do this,” said the guy who tried to punch Lusty.

Captain Asyling replied, “This is your fault pal. You should’ve not thrown a punch because she said something. Oh before you say it no you can’t sue someone for insulting you. Insults are protected by freedom of speech while threats are not which she did not but threats are not protected by free speech.”

“I’ll take you two to court then,” said the guy.

Lusty replied sarcastically, “Yeah whatever you do or whatnot won’t scare me. I’ve heard every insult and derogatory term and been targeted for every type of harassment under the damn sun. So sue me won’t scare me. I already work in a male-dominated job and already face a hostile work environment from sexists and racists.

"I know how broken the system is of speaking out it gets a target on your head and the reason I don’t say anything about it is because I’ve heard every insult and derogatory term since I was four so it made me grow some thick skin to have insults and derogatory terms bounce off of my skin because I ignore them. I know people who reported incidents to HR or to proper channels and leave a paper trail to have evidence only for them to retaliate against or lose their job quicker than you can say one. Main reason I don’t say anything is because I don’t care about the insults and derogatory terms I get told and me being in a male-dominated job is hard enough when you have people who are in the same profession as you believe that you shouldn’t be here because of my gender and they believe that I can’t lift what a man can lift and to me I don’t give a damn if I can or not but I can fit in places that you can’t fit in. I know people who faced or still face race, gender, age, religion, physical attractiveness or sexual orientation discrimination.

"But people like you or who you work for don’t have to face that because you all have the money and the power to have those who do have them arrested or killed. But I know your type. You, like the other rich people, just profit off of other people suffering and don’t care who gets hurt as long as you make a buck.”

The guy decided to leave because he wasn’t going to win a fight, especially how Captain Asyling had her right hand on the pistol grip of her .41 caliber revolver. Not adding that what Lusty said she wasn’t mincing words nor wasn’t lying but she got so blinded by insults that she just doesn’t care about being insulted or threatened because she grew accustomed to it.

Not adding that in both Eastside and Westside that people grow thick skin because they don’t cater to people who are sensitive or overly sensitive and those people get picked on more than people who have thick skin. But when Lusty first joined Squad 141 they thought that she wouldn’t have thick skin for jokes and insults they give each other. When they would make jokes or even insults at her she showed that she wasn’t easily hurt by them but that showed them that she ain’t a snowflake and can be insulted or be joked around without her feelings getting hurt.

***

Lusty's penthouse gleamed in the evening light. But as she opened the grand double doors, her attention was drawn not by the opulent surroundings, but by the sound of her girlfriend, Macaroni, engaged in a passionate phone call.

"I love you too, dad," Macaroni said, her voice soft with affection, "I can't wait to see you when you get here."

As the phone call ended, Lusty, curiosity piqued, asked, "Who was that?"

"That was my father," Macaroni responded, her voice carrying a mix of relief and sorrow. "He's finally had enough and is divorcing my mother. It seems her latest indulgence — a brand new car — was the last straw."

She went on to explain how her father had stayed in an unhappy marriage for her sake, not wanting to face the societal scorn that comes with being a single father.

"But now that I'm here in Empire, he feels free to take the leap," she said, a hint of pride in her voice.

Macaroni always admired her father. He'd raised her to be her own person, and to choose honesty over deception. Her mother, on the other hand, had a different parenting style — one that involved encouraging laziness, promoting materialism, and sowing discord in relationships.

"I'm glad I chose to take after my dad," she confessed. "I can't believe my mom tried to sell my childhood toys for drug money."

Her last sentence hung in the air, a stark reminder of the starkly different paths she and her mother had chosen. The penthouse, usually filled with light and laughter, was silent for a moment as they both absorbed the weight of Macaroni's revelation.

Lusty's eyebrows furrowed and the corner of her mouth turning up in a curious half-smile, posed her question, "Just out of interest, what exactly did that car set your dad back?"

Macaroni, her face wearing a mask of resignation and a hint of regret, replied in a tone that was almost apologetic, "The glaring red tag dangling from the rearview mirror declared a rather exorbitant $30,400. It was a run-of-the-mill, four-door sedan. Nothing more."

The mention of that price tag caused Lusty to choke on the water she had been leisurely sipping from her glass. She spluttered, eyes bulging in disbelief, and coughed, gasping for air as the shock set in.

"Thirty thousand dollars? Just for a vehicle?" Lusty said, her voice echoing around the room, her shock translating into a wave of disbelief that swept through everyone present. "Are you honestly suggesting that one would need to toil away at a job for a whole decade just to afford a down payment on such a car?

"I'd much rather stay put here on Little Bird — my home and where I managed to buy my first car a year later. But the price you just quoted, it's simply scandalous! Are you telling me that the average person in the US has to slog away for half their life just to secure basic necessities like a house and a car?"

She paused, seemingly lost in thought. Her eyes glazed over, reflecting a faraway place or time, before she broke the silence, "My granddad distinctly remembers Eisenhower's stern warning to his fellow Americans about the looming threat of the military-industrial complex. His concern was that this powerful entity could significantly impact the democratic fabric of the nation. He was implying the ambiguous relationship between the U.S. Military and the colossal corporations that manufactured its weapons."

Lusty straightened in her chair, her gaze now focused and intense. "Our president here on Little Bird, a native-born American who migrated here in '68, must have taken Eisenhower's warning seriously. Yes, we have corporations here too, building our war machines. But they're not like those in the States. They can't just arbitrarily inflate prices or shortchange their employees. Our laws, thanks to the Little Bird Government, offer a safety net to workers, protecting them from exploitation. It's a simple fact that without contented and fairly compensated employees, corporations would fail. So while they might occasionally be tempted to cut costs and save money, they'd likely end up in a courtroom, facing a barrage of illegal termination lawsuits."

She sighed heavily, a mixture of disbelief and frustration etched on her face. "But thirty thousand dollars for a car? Does it come equipped with auto driving capabilities, or can it fly or navigate water?"

"Regrettably, it's just an overpriced block of aluminum and fiberglass," Macaroni replied, a cynical edge creeping into her voice. "But on Little Bird, as you eloquently pointed out, by the time someone reaches the age of eighteen, they've typically saved enough to buy a car or secure a home. By nineteen, they can invest in whatever they couldn’t afford the previous year. And by twenty-two, they're likely considering starting a family."

"Probably a cultural norm here on Little Bird but, it's customary to have a child by twenty-one," Lusty added, her voice softening. "Maybe it's a cultural norm, or perhaps it's because life on Little Bird mirrors the post-World War II era. Our returning veterans, usually in their mid-twenties, would already have a stable income, a place to call home, and a family. That is, unless they decided to use government subsidies to pursue further education or training programs — much like the GI Bill in the States.”

Macaroni took a deep breath, the reminiscence of his past playing out before her eyes. "You wouldn't believe my father's reaction when I revealed my weekly income, his voice carried a hint of humor. "I pulled in just $27 a week, given that I chose not to work on weekends. 'Mackenzie Waterson, you're only raking in twenty-seven measly bucks a week?' he'd exclaimed in disbelief. He'd urged me to find a more lucrative job, one that could easily cover my school expenses."

"He couldn't fathom the fact that he had shelled out $2300 to have me flown halfway across the globe to pursue higher education, only to hear about my paltry earnings. But I stood my ground, explaining that my earnings were actually average here, even if they were a bit less than my girlfriend's. I was proud that I could sustain myself without mooching off others."

Macaroni's voice softened a little as he carried on, "My father was astounded at how much cheaper higher education was here compared to back home. I had managed to convince him to send me here, with the reduced tuition cost being a key selling point. Instead of a hefty $4500, I was required to pay just $1100 per year."

"I had done my homework and discovered a neat financial trick: if I took out a student loan and made consistent weekly or monthly payments, they wouldn't charge interest. For instance, if I took a loan of $4700 for tuition and supplies, and repaid it at a rate of $27 a week, I could avoid interest charges. But if I waited to land a job and then started repaying, then yes, they'd slap on the interest."

He paused for a moment, then asked curiously, "Lusty, how do you manage your finances?"

Lusty, a firefighter and armored car guard by profession, was methodical and organized when it came to money. "I keep a money planner right on my fridge," she replied. "It has a breakdown of my expenses for each week: entertainment, groceries, transportation, home maintenance, and bills. For example, I allocate $50 for groceries, $3 for entertainment, $9 for transportation - which includes gas and minor vehicle repairs - $20 for home maintenance, and $70 for bills. My monthly income totals at $960, but after all expenses, I'm left with $396."

She continued, outlining her savings strategy, "Out of the remaining amount, I earmark 20% to save up for a rainy day, another 20% goes into my 401k, and 40% is dedicated to a special fund I've set up for my children's college education. I do this because my parents wanted me to go to college but couldn't afford it, and I don't want my children to face the same predicament."

Macaroni was impressed. "So you're stashing away $158.40 in your savings, and another $158.40 for your children's future education. That's forward-thinking. My mother, on the other hand, spent my father's money on drugs. When she discovered the money he'd secretly kept aside for my college fund, she went on a spending spree. Luckily, my father managed to save ten grand, which we split between a savings and a checking account."

She sighed, her countenance clouding over. "Whenever I returned home, my mother was always hounding me for money. I refused, she'd snatch my paycheck, take it to a check cashing place and cash it to fuel her addiction. And every time my parents argued, my dad would remain calm, carrying on as if it were a mere conversation. He did that for my sake, because I was usually home when they fought. My mother, on the other hand, would scream and yell so loudly that our neighbors often had to call the cops due to the noise."

Her laughter was bitter as he added, "I detest my mother. In another life, she could have been a religion that goes door to door asking if you want to join even if saying no they'll come back asking you the same questions and asking if you want to believe in God. Not adding said religion they do not celebrate birthdays or religious and national holidays. Or they don't believe in blood transfusions. They have a knack for getting on everyone's nerves, after all.”

“At least your mother didn't share a bank account with your dad or he'd be broke quicker than a New York second.”

Macaroni leaned back, her face hard and drawn with the weight of memories, her voice steady but tinged with resentment. "You know, my mother was relentless. She hounded my father, always demanding that they open a joint account so she could have access to his hard-earned money. My father, a man of stern principles, would always reply with a bitter laugh, 'The day I do that will be the day Jesus graces us with His Second Coming. Until then, there's not a chance in Hell.' He never shied away from standing up to her, even if it meant conflict."

She sighed, running her hand through her hair. "My father wasn't a man of leisure. He put in fifty-hour weeks, ten more than the average Joe, but my mother saw that as an opportunity. She had this insatiable hunger for drugs, and she thought my father's money would be the perfect fuel. But he never gave her that satisfaction."

Macaroni's voice dropped to a whisper. "When I was born, my mother had the audacity to demand that my father foot the entire hospital bill. She threw the responsibility on him, saying, 'You wanted a child, you pay for the hospital bill.' This, even though I was born near Fort Liberty, North Carolina. She didn't care about me, not one iota."

She blinked away the hurt in her eyes. "When I got my first job at fourteen, back in 1998, she saw me as a ticket to her next high. I was earning $5.15 per hour, working four hours a day, seven days a week. That made me $130 a week, but my mother... she would snatch it away, using it to feed her addiction. She's committed so many wrongs, she should be locked up."

Macaroni looked down, her lips a thin line. "Every day, my father would leave for work at 8 AM and return at 6 PM. And when he got home, he would take care of me. He was my rock, because my mother... she never cared. Even when I was a baby, she wasn't there. She deserves nothing less than the lethal injection table."

Lusty looked at Macaroni, her expression solemn. "The word for your mother is one I won't utter, not with my toddler daughters sleeping in the next room," she said softly. "In the 1970s, they introduced lethal injection as the most humane method of state-sanctioned killing. But here on Little Bird, we believe those who earn a death sentence have forfeited their right to a humane exit. We don't offer them the comfort of a peaceful end. We have firing squads, hangings, the electric chair, and the gas chamber. Because to us, they've shown themselves to be inhumane, and they don't deserve a gentle way out.

"Other countries may say that’s inhumane but we tell them that if they don’t like our justice system then to fuck off but the people here who end up on death row usually aren’t humane so they don’t deserve a humane way out. Also with the electric chair there’s a 50/50 chance of a CO. Instead of wetting the sponge that goes on the head of the person sitting in the chair, the CO would put a dry sponge so instead of a relatively quick execution. Oh hangings are worse because there’s a 90/10 chance of the hanging being sabotaged so instead of killing the person instantly but be in a way that they’ll be twitching for a minute or two until they finally die.

“Little Bird may not be an honest country but we’re a fair one. Of course before the death row inmate has to walk for the final time. I can see why a majority of CO’s who are on Death Row are former Marines. Or as our Army says ‘They must recruit the Marines from Insane asylums because you have to be out of your fucking mind to do a bayonet charge against an enemy who’s either doing a Banzi or Bayonet charge against you.’ I think the Japanese said the same thing about the US Marines. But I think a lot of our Marine officers threatened to execute their own Marines if they fled from battle for cowardice and in the Little Bird Marine Corps well from what my dad and my fellow firefighter Madeleine ‘Dynamite’ well they said that in war there's a chance you're already going to die by the enemy but it's even worse when you decide to flee and your own Commanding Officer just shoots you as you flee.”

There was soon a knock on the door.

“I know it ain't my dad because when I talked to him he was just leaving the house so he's still in the United States and I know instant travel ain't a thing yet,” said Macaroni.

It was the same lawyer guy from the police station and turns out that he was following through with his threat of launching a lawsuit. But Lusty wasn't scared but she wasn't going to talk about it because she ain't going to let it bother her.

Macaroni, with a careful change of inflection, shifted the conversation. "Let's change pace a bit. I can't help but wonder about your most challenging Christmas experience. Would you share it with me?"

Lusty's eyes clouded over with distant memories, the years peeled back as she began her tale. "It was Christmas Day 1985, when I was just six years old. That year held a heavy loss for us, the passing of my mother's parents, two truly saintly individuals who were pillars in our lives. That year, my father, in his infinite optimism, decided we should spend Christmas with his parents. His logic was simple, yet poignant. 'It's Christmas,' he'd say, his voice filled with hopeful anticipation, 'something magical always happens at Christmas. Perhaps they'll treat you better this year.' He was addressing my mother, his voice laced with the unspoken hope that his words would ring true."

She sighed, continuing her tale. "We didn't have a car, so we took the bus. Some of the drivers preferred to work on Christmas, for their own reasons. When we arrived, my father was warmly welcomed, his family opening their arms to their son. But the welcome didn't extend to my mother and me. We were met with cold, disapproving stares that spoke louder than any words could."

Lusty's eyes held a touch of bitterness as she went on, "The Christmas breakfast was tense, but my father stood up for us. When an uncle made a derogatory remark about my mother's Native heritage, my dad didn't back down. He spoke up, defending his wife with unshakeable loyalty. 'I love her,' he defended, 'I took the time to know her, to love her. If you dare insult my wife or daughter, we'll see how far a World War II era railgun can launch you.'"

A small, bittersweet smile formed on her lips. "My dad always had our backs. The incident that finally caused him to snap, however, was when his mother deliberately overlooked me as her first grandchild, choosing instead to celebrate my cousin who was born months later after I was born."

She paused, the harsh memories weighing heavy. "When my father asked if there was at least one gift for me, the room went silent. The response from my grandfather was perhaps the most cruel, 'You really think we were going to spend our hard-earned money on that thing?' And with those harsh words, my mother scooped me up and we left, the door slamming behind us so hard it sent a vase crashing to the floor."

Lusty took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I left my doll behind, a precious gift from my mother that was originally her mother's. When I went back to get it, I overheard them spewing more hateful words about me and my mother. I ran, tears clouding my vision, back to my mom. We left, making the long bus journey back to our home in the Eastside. Even the bus driver, who didn't celebrate Christmas, was moved by our plight and didn't charge us the fare."

Her voice became softer as she added, "I wouldn't wish that experience on my worst enemy, let alone my own daughters. When we returned to our humble apartment, my mom encouraged me to open our own gifts, the ones they had painstakingly saved for throughout the year. As she began to prepare breakfast, my dad tried to apologize. But she stopped him, saying he didn't need to. She had wanted to give his family a chance, to see if they could accept me, accept us. But she had known deep down, they wouldn't."

Lusty's voice was thick with emotion. "My dad apologized to me as well. I couldn't respond to him until I was older, more capable of understanding. He had a falling out with his family after that, telling them to remove his name from any will. If they couldn't accept his wife and daughter, he wouldn't see them as his family anymore."

She paused, her voice barely a whisper, "There was one exception, my uncle who passed away in 1982. He was the only one who stood by my parents' marriage. He believed in love, in togetherness. His spirit was sorely missed that Christmas."

She finished her tale, her gaze meeting Macaroni's. "Now, what about you? What was your toughest Christmas?"

Macaroni blinked, taken aback. "Wow, that's... heavy," she replied, "I thought it was hard when my mom would try to sell my unwrapped Christmas gifts for drug money. But hearing your story, I realize my experience pales in comparison. At least my mom, despite her faults, would wish me a Merry Christmas, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. Oh what did your uncle who died in 1982 do for a living?”

Lusty nodded, her eyes softening with a touch of sadness. "He was a firefighter, just like me. I never had the chance to meet him because I was only two, almost three, when he passed away. It's strange, I didn't even know he was a firefighter, let alone in the same company as me. The odds of that happening are one out of thirty-two. It's just him and me as the only firefighters in our family history."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "On a related note, my friend, your cousin Dave. His wife and her family have been serving as firefighters for the city of Empire for the past one hundred and ninety-six years. That's a legacy that extends to military and naval firefighting as well! You got any stories?”

Macaroni's voice carried a tinge of wistfulness as she spoke. "My family has a long history of serving in wars, dating back to the Holy Roman Empire of Germany and continuing through to the United States. My dad often dreams of retiring to a picturesque cabin surrounded by trees and mountains, a serene escape from the bustle of everyday life. Yet, I know that might remain a dream due to my mom's preferences. Now, I want to find a similarly idyllic spot here, where I can build a cabin."

Lusty nodded thoughtfully. "If I were you, I'd seek out a peaceful location, perhaps near a lake or a river. However, if it's by a river, it's crucial to choose high ground to mitigate the risk of coastal and flash flooding, especially during the rainy season from June 1st to June 21st. I've witnessed the river's dramatic rise during those incessant June rains. The Little Bird Weather Center routinely issues flood warnings for most of the month, not only in the city Empire but across our country. Have you encountered a flood before?"

Macaroni's response was tinged with a hint of regret. "I've always wanted to visit New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, but I ended up staying in Northwest Alabama and witnessing the devastating flooding caused by the hurricane's destruction of the levees. I saw the extensive flooding through the lens of a television screen, rather than experiencing it firsthand."

Lusty's eyes held a flicker of concern as she delved into a weighty topic. "Let me tell you, Macaroni, about the Admiral Culver River that divides Riverview and Emerald Pastors from the inner city. There's a hydroelectric dam that, while supplying 98% of the city's power, raises concerns among some, including myself. There's a lingering fear that the dam could fail, leading to catastrophic flooding and the loss of numerous lives.

"The dam releases a staggering 9 million acre-feet of water annually, and in 1954, the Fire Department City of Empire, the Fire Department Nation of Little Bird, Little Bird Civil Defense, and the Little Bird Government created comprehensive booklets for every conceivable disaster scenario, ranging from heat waves to tornadoes, tsunamis, hurricanes, meteor showers, flooding, cold waves, drought, earthquakes, hail, ice storms, landslides, lightning, volcanic activity, wildfires, and a multitude of man-made disasters."

Macaroni's response carried a mix of understanding and lightheartedness. "It may seem paranoid to prepare for so many potential disasters, but it's always better to err on the side of caution. Now, I'm going to ransack your kitchen drawers in search of a takeout menu for a place that serves a mouthwatering, juicy cheeseburger. Every Thursday night, before we met, there's a quaint little diner reminiscent of a 1950s joint. They whip up the juiciest cheeseburgers I've ever tasted. But this Alabama gal, originally from North Carolina, is in dire need of a cheeseburger, ASAP."

“Third drawer from the fridge,” said Lusty, “My guess why you always get a cheeseburger is that they are cheap and quick to make and for twenty cents you can get five for a dollar. Welp I'm about to head out to go over some past incident reports to read over if I can find them.”

Macaroni replied, “Okay then. I'll order you a cheeseburger with curly fries. See you within thirty minutes or so.”

***

Marcus’s apartment.

Lusty ascended the worn steps to the door, marked with the simple number "801." She rapped her knuckles against the wood, the sound echoing through the corridor. Within moments, the door creaked open, revealing Marcus holding a slice of cold leftover sausage pizza.

“Lusty, I never expected to see you at my doorstep today, or ever," Marcus said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "What brings you here?"

In response, Lusty leaned forward, her expression determined. "I need to locate records of past emergencies," she began, her voice tinged with urgency. "Do incident reports eventually get recycled and shredded? I have to know."

"Head to HQ, the records department should have what you're looking for," Marcus suggested, his tone thoughtful. "If I had to guess, the records department likely holds the city's inaugural incident report from 1710. What's driving this search, Claire?"

Lusty's eyes flashed with resolve as she revealed her purpose. "I've been summoned as an expert witness," she explained, her words carrying the weight of her experience. "I need to access the incident reports from emergencies that Squad Co 141 Able Shift responded to, specifically those where companies prioritized profits over people. I'm seeking instances where these emergencies could have been prevented if only the companies had invested in proactive solutions.

"How many crises did we attend that could have been averted if only they had allocated the necessary funds beforehand? How many individuals did we have to extract, only to be identified through dental records by the medical examiner or coroner? I estimate it to be in the thousands. But I want to have copies of said incident reports to back up what I say is the truth and not a lie but I know that the two who are going to be on trial that their lawyer is going to poke holes into my testimony and what I say. Well thanks Chief see ya at a third alarm fire or a big emergency.”

Lusty then left and went to HQ and after a few hours of shifting through Squad Company 141 Able Shift and she found a few in which she then copied them with a copier where she put the originals back and kept the copied ones and went back to her penthouse.

***

In Lusty's luxurious penthouse apartment.

"The delivery just got here, so your timing is impeccable," remarked Macaroni. "The place was swamped, but let's hope the food is as good as the wait suggested. What's on your mind?"

Lusty responded, “I've been reviewing past emergency incidents that Squad 141 Shift A responded to – situations that could have been prevented. Yet, it always circles back to profit. It's as if a colossal thermonuclear explosion could wipe out the heart of the city, and still, every company and corporation would insist on business as usual, pushing their employees for every last penny! These corporate leaders and CEOs are on a one-way trip to the greediest depths of Hell!"

"Right…" Macaroni continued cautiously, "How about we shift gears? Tell me about your family?"

After taking a moment to calm down, Lusty said, “My parents? Generally good people. My father could be kind and endearing, yet there were times he lacked empathy, support, affection, assistance, or compassion. Like when I was fourteen and struggling to cut my steak, my mom suggested he help me, but he refused. She tried to step in, but he stopped her. Post-dinner, he took me aside and confided, ‘Lusty, I'm tough on you because I want you to be strong and resilient. One day, you might face challenges I can't even imagine, but I trust you'll overcome them and make me proud. I love you.’ He believed in preparing me for a world that wouldn't coddle me, where I'd have to stand my ground. My mother, though, was warm, loving, and fiercely loyal. Her character wasn't swayed by status or power – something even the top brass in government and police learned the hard way.”

Macaroni reflected wistfully, "I wish my mom had been like that. She was indifferent to my struggles – whether I was having a heart attack, a stroke, or a seizure, she'd just ask for money and I'd never see it again. My dad wasn't much different; he was a blend of both your parents in his parenting style.”

Lusty shifted the conversation to the history of the Homeland Defense Bureau, detailing its multiple phases of organization and disbandment, starting from its inception on June 30th, 1914, to its reformation in the spring of 1963.

Macaroni, in turn, opened up about her mixed feelings towards her parents – nothing but contempt for her mother yet affection for her father. She recounted her teenage years from 1999 to 2001 when she persistently nagged her dad for a cellphone at fifteen, a time when owning one was a sign of a spoiled teen. She noted the stark contrast to today's norm where it's rare to find a teenager without a cellphone.

Lusty mentioned that on Little Bird, cellphones are a privilege reserved for high-ranking government officials, government workers, and on-call professionals like special agents or doctors. Besides that they're rare.

"Lieutenant Autumn, my second in command, was a good man," Lusy recalled. "He always emphasized, 'We can't let our emotions interfere with our duties,' stressing that despite personal feelings, there are still fires to extinguish, emergencies to handle, and people relying on us. He epitomized the '100%'' label bestowed by our academy instructors, expecting unwavering commitment from everyone under his command. He believed that on duty, we needed to maintain focus, reserving emotional release for our off hours. You know what's truly messed up? The fire at the warehouse that claimed Lieutenant Autumn's life along with five other members of Squad 141's A shift – it was arson.

"Yet the perpetrator, just a teenager from affluent parents, received a mere slap on the wrist. Sure, firefighting is a perilous profession, but what he did was outright manslaughter and murder. The day after the tragedy, the fire department revamped our protocols for dealing with abandoned buildings, ensuring that the first responders could safely exit before the secondary teams arrived, preventing entrapment and further casualties. I'm slimmer and having a more hourglass figure, didn't align with the male standard. Truth is, I'm leaner even with my firefighting gear than some male firefighters in their station attire and the average male on Little Bird is that they're slender or slightly buff. Honestly Lieutenant Autumn he recommended that I'd be the next officer for Squad 141.”

Macaroni replied, “Sounds like Lieutenant Autumn saw that you were more fit and still is more fit to take care. But sad what you told me. It always waits until a disaster happens until policies change. Of six specialized special operations firefighters dying then changed what to do when it came to abandoned buildings. Oh one company gets there then all six goes in then six dies then rewrite then retrain officers about the new protocol for abandoned building fires and abandoned buildings fire investigation. Oh it's not like you were given nicknames.”

“I got Captain then later Lieutenant Empire because I know this city like the inside of my hand where my previous chauffeur/engineer he been driving Squad 141 since 1989 and he thought he knew this city pretty well but when I became Captain I would tell him to take different routes that he would never thought of. Whenever I was over on a Thirty Three truck I was given the nickname of ‘Ghetto firefighter’ because I'm comfortable in any situation or scenario we go to. Not adding where I'm from is what people would call a ghetto.”

***

As dusk settled over the skyline, Lusty stood with authority on the rooftop, her silhouette etched against the evening sky. "Remember, the right gear is crucial, but it's not invincible," she said, her voice cutting through the air. "Lean too close to the flames, and you'll still get burnt. It's all about balance—use your legs, stay low, and protect yourself."

She then showcased the proper stance with a firefighter's precision, before striding confidently toward a parapet. "If we have the 18th or 19th Battalion, but sometimes, we need a ladder to escape. In a crisis, descend in pairs or trios for safety. We could also have either 17th or 18th Rescue Squads, we're the last to leave—holding true to our code." Her gaze swept across the team. "If Rescue 17 were here, Captain Richter-Waterson and I would be the last to touch the ground, embodying our FILO commitment."

"FILO?" Macaroni piped up, a quizzical look on her face.

"First In, Last Out," Dynamite explained with a nod. "We're the front line in an emergency, but we make sure everyone else is out before we exit."

***

In the fire station's kitchen, this hallowed hub of solace, with the soft crackle of the hearth complementing the rich symphony of scents from simmering pots and the easy banter of close-knit souls, Macaroni beheld the tableau before him. Here, Lusty stood, a beacon of quiet strength and compassion, engaging with the stalwart members of Squad 141. Each gesture and word from her wove a tapestry that depicted far more than mere friendship—it was a fellowship forged in the crucible of shared peril and unwavering trust.

Her voice, an enthralling blend of grace and determination, wove the bonds of brotherhood and sisterhood among her team, a reflection of their deeply entrenched solidarity. Even as Dynamite and Avalanche playfully ribbed her with their affectionate moniker, 'grown-up female child', for her refined grace under pressure, the air was thick with mutual admiration and the unspoken acknowledgment of Lusty's irreplaceable role within their ranks.

As she recounted a tale of one of their many brushes with mortality, the room fell into a hushed reverence. "There was this one call," Lusty began, her voice a compelling force, "where the smoke was so thick, you could taste the darkness. I was sure I had reached the depths of the basement in that mid-rise inferno. Only when my hands fumbled upon the surprising coolness of window blinds and the unmistakable outline of a balcony door did I realize the error—I was still trapped on the second floor."

The others listened, transfixed, as if Lusty's vivid recollection cast them alongside her in that smoke-filled labyrinth. "Sure, we train for disorientation in the 'Maze trailer'—the tightening walls, the oppressive darkness. But let me tell you, no drill can mimic the raw terror of the actual event. Instinct screams for retreat, yet it's our duty to advance."

Her voice took on a poignant note as she echoed her father's words, a reminder of the paradox of their calling, "Our baby is insane to choose this,' he had observed. And in a way, he wasn't wrong. We're hardwired to escape danger, not plunge into its maw. But if not us, then who? The Little Bird Marine Corps' legacy explains it—ex-marines understand this defiance of instinct."

Macaroni, visibly moved, inquired, "Just how defiant were they?"

Lusty's eyes danced with respect and an almost wild admiration as she recounted, "In World War II, when the Japanese launched a bayonet or Banzai charge, the Little Bird Marines didn't just hold their ground—they turned the tide with their own counter bayonet charge. It's a testament to their raw courage, to confront an armed charge with a blade in hand. I'll admit, if I were in their boots, I'd put my trust in a bullet long before a bayonet's edge."

The conversation effortlessly shifted, Macaroni steering them back to the present with a question that grounded them in their daily reality. "With all that intensity, how do you balance the demands of the job?"

Lusty laid out their schedule with the precision of a seasoned leader, understanding the gravity behind each word. "We operate on a modified California roll schedule, designed with our well-being in mind. Work one day, take the next off, work one, off two, work one, off four days. We do it like this because it helps avoid acute sleep deficit, however, firefighters should return to work fully recovered from the previous shift. But I've had ‘on loan' firefighters who thought they had more time off for whatever reason and they show up to work and hungover and the first thing I did was tell them to go home but I would call them a cab so they don't drive hungover and get into a wreck.

"But I've worked with firefighters who don't get enough rest and go straight to their second job that they do for whatever reason without getting more rest and when they leave their shift they just go right to their second job. In smaller towns like Clearlake they do a 12/12 aka work twelve hours off twelve hours where members with families work at night so they can be home for their families during the day. But in my other career as an armored car guard, they told me not to come to work the day I get off of shift so I can have a day for some R&R. But rest is important.

"For awhile they wanted to change our shift schedule of 96-96 aka work for four days then be off for four days but that fell through because of public safety and the few firehouses they experimented it on that the fourteen members were always tired even getting a few hours of sleep they were always tired because about every three hours or so they would have to respond to an alarm and three hours of sleep within five hours is not a good thing especially in a job with life or death is on the line. But they were given a week off to rest up.”

"I actually enjoy working here," Macaroni began, "but there have been times when they've called me in on my days off. They didn't want me to record my overtime or get paid for it. It wasn't until recently that I discovered a law from 1962 that makes it illegal to work off the clock without logging overtime hours or receiving compensation. If they expect you to work without recording it, and they don't compensate you, they're supposed to pay double. For instance, I earn $1.35 an hour, but for overtime, it should be $2.70 an hour. It's for the time that should be mine to enjoy. Despite this, I'm contemplating quitting to look for a better job."

"Why are you considering quitting your job?" Lusty asked.

"I have a problem with my boss; his behavior has crossed the line — not just being unfriendly but invading my personal space in a physical way. I'm thinking of making a formal complaint to HR," Macaroni shared.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dynamite chimed in. "In my experience, HR often prioritizes the company rather than the employees. They usually support the higher-ups. Even if you have evidence, they often back their own. It's essential to keep meticulous records. HR's goal when facing harassment or discrimination claims is often to minimize the paper trail. They fear legal action and the possibility of being held liable.

"They typically only act in the employee's favor if there's so much evidence that it poses a threat of legal repercussions. I remember at a previous job, I reported my manager to HR, but despite my evidence and witnesses, they did nothing. Later, when I defended myself against him, HR tried to portray me as the instigator. There had been several complaints against him, but it wasn't until I stood up for myself that HR took notice. In the end, I was taken to court, but the sheer volume of reports against him made the company look bad. They terminated me during the trial, which turned out to be a mistake, as it was seen as a retaliatory action, and they had to compensate me significantly. The trial lasted two weeks, and they had to pay me daily wages on top of the compensation.

"Then there was the issue with my parents demanding repayment for raising me, but I managed to save that money instead. My former boss when I was working that job I got mad at him when he put his hand on me and I threw a vat of hot sizzling cooking oil for the french fries onto him. I still hear him scream like a little bitch too like it was yesterday.”

Avalanche interjected, "You think that's bad? My father used to take half of my earnings every week, which is part of why I joined the Mountaineers and the Fire Service — to get back at him. He can't touch me now, and after I legally changed my name, it's even harder for him to track me down."

Macaroni responded, "Anyway, I'm going to draft my resignation notice…"

"I wouldn't rush to do that," Avalanche advised. "They say giving two weeks' notice is courteous, but the company might either try to guilt-trip you into staying or simply let you go, possibly pushing you to sign a non-disclosure agreement to receive your severance, despite the Little Bird Bureau of Labor and Work outlawing that practice in 1932. Unfortunately, our employment system often allows those in power to dismiss experienced employees in favor of hiring relatives, offering them perks while the regular staff get meaningless gestures like pizza parties instead of actual bonuses.

"In my old part-time job, I got an expired fruitcake for Christmas. But now, as a firefighter, at least I have a stable government job with fair wages, benefits, and job security. The downside, though, is the emotional toll it takes, witnessing tragedies and sometimes being the bearer of bad news… In Las Adventure I responded to a very gruesome car accident. A man and a child were in a car accident trying to beat a 40 US ton 1968 tractor trailer and went under the trailer part. You can guess how that was but that was back in July of ‘01. Oh the child survived just fine but the father and I learned a lesson at that scene and that was a 40 Ton truck will go through a 2 ton car like a tank through barbed wire or a hot knife through butter.”

Macaroni was on the verge of asking about dealing with trauma on the job, knowing that each person copes differently, yet ultimately resorts to suppressing their emotions. Their reasons varied - some feared burdening their families with the horrors they witnessed, while others sought solace in peer support groups, a fact often omitted. Then, a man appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Mackenzie, I had a feeling I’d find you here, considering the text you sent me when I arrived at the airport in the US before I left,” he said.

Macaroni rose and embraced her father.

“Let's not disturb them any longer, Mackenzie,” her father suggested.

“I'm just a guest here, Dad. I’m not causing any trouble. It was either follow my girlfriend to work after classes or find something to do... Oh, by the way, I have a girlfriend. I probably should have mentioned it before, but you know how Mom can be. Actually, now that I think about it, she could drive a train into a wall for all I care.”

Macaroni’s father was taken aback, having never heard about his daughter’s girlfriend. Macaroni feared he might disapprove, but to her surprise, he stood by her, unwavering in his support. Macaroni father always supported his daughter no matter what even though he was hoping she would have a boyfriend but while he didn't want to hear that Macaroni has a girlfriend but the first thing he learned about parenting was that it wasn't all about him anymore and the moment that Mackenzie “Macaroni” Waterson was born he started to plan around his daughter. Even saving up to send her to college but he was a far better parent than his wife and he still is even though he doesn't approve of his daughter sexually but he supports her because he loves his only child and wants to show and still show that he loves her no matter what.

Gracefully excusing herself, Lusty stepped away and approached the Squad 141 vehicle, where she proceeded to open the door on the officer's side and climbed into the seat.

Shortly thereafter, Macaroni and her father ambled past. Pausing, Macaroni's father shared a nostalgic thought, remarking on how the scene whisked him back to his own youth in the late '60s, from '65 to '69. He was curious, though, about whether any of the firehouse's vehicles were constructed from aluminum and fiberglass.

"The main body is predominantly reinforced steel, with some aluminum components," Lusty responded. "Empty, the apparatus weighs 23 tons, or 46,000 pounds. The water tank holds 1,000 gallons, adding another 8,328 pounds. Our hoses add about 408 pounds, and we carry three rescue saws, which together weigh 69 pounds, two blowtorches, three axes—two with wooden handles and one with a plastic handle. The sledgehammers add another 36 pounds; we have one 30-foot aluminum ladder weighing in at 30 pounds, a 50-foot wooden ladder at 350 pounds, and a 10-foot steel ladder at 595 pounds. The hydraulic rescue tools we carry total 150 pounds, the water rescue gear is 422 pounds, shoring equipment comes to 60 pounds, cribbing is 24 pounds, there's a 15-pound collection of wrenches for various emergencies, a 40-pound portable ventilation fan, four 36-inch Halligan bars weighing 48 pounds, pike poles at 15 pounds, and five fire extinguishers that collectively weigh 100 pounds.

"That brings us to a grand total of 56,911.48 pounds—and that's before we add our breathing apparatuses and our own weight. Our truck over there is double the weight minus the water. Still don’t know why we have a Large Airport Crash tender that’s just a inch off from not fitting through our apparatus bay door but I’m not going to waste my breath with the syphicant bureaucrats at HQ. My guess the last time this department had people who fought fires then went to work at HQ I want to say the last time that they had fire breathers work at HQ was back either in the 1950s or 1960s but now they want people who work in politics who know the political landscape where the last time I was at HQ and I asked a lot of people who work there on when the last time they stretched an attack line or a supply line but they all looked at me in confusion and have no idea what an attack line or a supply line is.

"That just told me right then and their that they’re desk jockeys, I don’t they think they know how important teamwork is because when I was in the academy that since day one you’re put into a team and the whole concept of teamwork is drilled into your head of course that’s because of our paramilitary structure from people getting out of the service and want to be in a job that has a structure like the military.”

Macaroni’s father replied, “Well this takes me back to seeing older cars, fashion, music, and no smoking ban. When I was a kid people smoked everywhere that wasn’t a gas station.”

“Yeah well we’re still like it’s the 1960s. Well here in the city of Empire it’s still like the 1960s,” said Lusty, “Other places on Little Bird are either like the 1950s or the 1940s but everywhere is different than the last. At least here you can trust the government not the city government but the higher ups in the Stratocratic-Police State government at least they do things that’ll benefit the people. Before you say it the answer is yes we do get people in office who want to line their own pockets and they get arrested for corruption. You yanks may have people in office who are old as dirt but whenever they promise something they fall flat on it. Your daughter told me that.”

Macaroni’s father replied, “So you like the job?”

“Yes I do,” said Lusty, “We can run all day long which is uncommon. We go from a dive mode to high angle mode to a confined space mode to a fire mode. But this job isn’t a single effort, it's a team effort. I want to say that half of the department is made of guys and gals getting out of the military because they really only have three options of getting a job with a structure like the military, getting a normal job like a 9-5 or just go and commit crimes. Probably different than you probably but we don’t talk about the fear we joke about the fear but everyone is different. But for us we can’t just stand outside and say ‘wow that looks really bad’ but unless there's a very high probability of no survival or if it’s a surround and drown building then we won’t go in but usually we do.

"Oh when you came in you probably noticed the wall of plaques and before you ask it’s unlike the Navy or the Airforce who have a wall of pictures of heroes or squadrons who flew in the past but they were killed doing their job.”

Macaroni replied, “Well come on dad we can go to a nice diner for dinner and catch up and I can tell you about how a lawyer for a multimillion dollar tried to bribe me to look the other way then threatened to harm me. I told him that that’ll be a costly mistake.”

Macaroni and her father then left the firehouse and went to a 50s diner where unlike his daughter, Macaroni’s father he didn’t take the chance to read about another country before leaving the United States. As Macaroni and her father were leaving Lusty overheard Macaroni’s father mention on how for her high school graduation of how he took her to the city of New York in November of 2001 and how both Macaroni and her dad have a photo of her on the north tower of the trade center observation deck. (This is an alternate universe)

***

An hour later, a crack of thunder echoed through the air.

"Looks like rain is on the way," remarked Lusty. She rose from her seat, went to roll up her car window, and closed both apparatus bay doors at the firehouse. Returning to her office, she delved into a historical book depicting an alternate universe where the Allies triumphed over the Soviets in the race to Berlin, with the American First Infantry "Big Red One" Division hoisting the 48-starred flag atop the Reichstag.

For Lusty, the era felt like a reenactment of the home front during World War II, with rationing affecting both natural and manufactured goods, leading to increased prices due to supply and demand. At home, she longed to mend a shirt but struggled to find the fabric due to rationing for military use, whether it be cotton, wool, nylon, or polyester. Even ceramic plates were scarce, as they were being utilized for military armor by the Little Bird Armed Forces. Despite this scarcity, she contemplated borrowing a few plates from the fire station, intending to reimburse the department to make amends for the borrowed items.

Lusty made her way to the kitchen to catch up on the news, which continued to focus on the ongoing war, featuring pre-recorded footage of Little Bird Marines clad in winterized combat gear. The soldiers were shown donning black bodysuits with matte-finish white winter camouflage armor, complete with winterized helmets featuring balaclavas and combat goggles designed to shield against snow glare.

"It must get incredibly cold out there in the Soviet Union and near the Arctic circle," Lusty remarked.

Dynamite responded, "Our military has taken the changing weather into account. When we entered Soviet territory in summer, by early October, we transitioned to Fall/Autumn uniforms, and by mid-November, we switched to winter uniforms. Unlike Napoleon and Germany, we anticipated Soviet scorched earth tactics. In the Soviet's view, they expected us to be immobilized by the freezing weather, with nowhere to take shelter and no supplies.

"However, our military logistics carefully considered the weather and seasons before launching our major European counteroffensive. We moved faster than anticipated, likely faster than they could retreat, and they probably couldn't outrun our tank, APC, and IFV treads. The Nightingale aircraft, utilized by all branches of the Little Bird military, has the remarkable capability to enter the mesosphere and thermosphere, enabling it to transport reinforcements and supplies within 12 hours, while also possessing the speed to evade SAM missiles.”

"Checkmate. Now your king is exposed to my Rook, Knight, King, Queen, and Bishop," declared Mariana "Avalanche" Azure as she triumphantly removed Madeleine "Dynamite" Harmony Knight's piece from the glass chessboard.

"Well, it's not like you were part of the school chess club," teased Lusty.

Avalanche responded, "I was actually in the middle and high school chess clubs. I remained undefeated for three years at South Las Adventure High School. My high school coach was so impressed that he suggested I could earn a chess scholarship for college, emphasizing that chess is a sport—a strategic game where timing is crucial. Playing chess demands a great deal of 'if-then' logical analysis and 'what-if' scenarios, essential for fostering logical and critical thinking.

"I always considered my opponent's perspective. Many of the male players I faced disliked losing to a woman. When I play chess, I strategically position my pieces to execute swift attacks and prevent my opponent from making their desired moves. Dynamite, you were so focused on targeting my King and Queen that I capitalized on using my Knight and Rook to capture all of your pieces."

Meanwhile, Lusty diligently conducted the nightly inspection of the fire apparatus, meticulously ensuring that the hoses were neatly folded and in optimal condition.

“What was this city like in the 1800s?” Asked Macaroni.

Lusty replied, "When it came to the 1800s, things weren't exactly ideal. Caravans and traders faced hefty tolls and fees. For instance, if someone bought a lever action rifle for fifty dollars, but it had to be shipped from the manufacturer, the caravanner would be burdened with substantial tolls. Moreover, female couriers and caravanners had an even tougher time. During that era, couriers, caravanners, and traders only made around $5 a day, and by month's end, they barely turned a profit. However, everything changed on July 4th, 1903. The Little Bird Civilian Military Congress and the President enacted a law that cracked down on corruption and unnecessary fees. Despite being a stratocratic police state, our population is incredibly content, and we boast a remarkably low corruption index, positioning us as one of the least corrupt countries globally. Our citizens are happy, healthy, well-educated, and have their private lives and civil liberties protected.

"Our economy has flourished and remains stable. Since 1950, we've had a specialized police team, the Little Bird Anti-Corruption team, dedicated to pursuing corrupt individuals in the government. Overall, our country upholds civil rights and liberties, allowing people to express themselves freely. Your grand uncle has been president since 1968, and he has made and upheld promises that have benefited the nation. My parents remembered when he was running and they told me that he promised to rebuild our industry and by 1971 he did what he promised. At least he keeps his promises unlike other politicians. Actually my dad worked in a factory part time just repairing machinery that broke down and he earned $30 a week. I hate that asshole!”

“You hate your dad?” Asked Macaroni.

Lusty shared her story as she landed from a jump off the top of Squad 141's apparatus. "My parents remember when he was running, and they told me that he promised to rebuild our industry, and by 1971, he delivered on that promise. At least he's someone who keeps his word, unlike other politicians. Actually, my dad used to work part-time in a factory, repairing machinery that broke down, and he earned $30 a week. I hate that jerk!"

"Do you hate your dad?" asked Macaroni.

Lusty replied, "No, I love my dad. I hate how my mom, who was a therapist, had a client who 'liked' her and wanted her to be with him. But he ended up hurting himself and sued my mom, hoping that the fake lawsuit would make her leave my dad and me when I was just an infant. This was late 1980 to mid-1981. My mom was the sole breadwinner, putting my dad through college and trade school to learn advanced engineering. So instead of living in a nice house with tiled floors, three bedrooms, and overall comfort, like one of those 1950s manufactured homes, they moved into a fire-prone tenement building built between 1898 and 1901, with wiring from 1914.

" My parents wanted to give me siblings, send me to college or a trade school, but now I'm living a life that my parents couldn't because of what happened to my mom. My dad had a job offer at a military factory, earning $7000 a year with a $2500 sign-on bonus. He would've just made those launchers and those uniforms and battle fatigues and helmets. Honestly I hate current society because I know a lot of people who I chose not to socialize with where they want to live a life they cannot afford where people live beyond their means of buying vehicles and clothing or buying or renting homes that they cannot afford.”

“Ah okay then interesting,” said Macaroni.

Lusty explained, "Our people have always been resourceful, determined to fulfill our needs by any means necessary. In the late 1910s and early 1920s, Little Bird endured a severe drought, causing crop failures and what became known as The Bread Shortage. Stores hiked up bread prices due to the scarcity caused by the drought's impact on wheat crops. To cope, people turned to making bread at home using flour and eggs, and established community gardens despite strict water rationing. People always find creative ways to obtain what they need. Once, when my parents wanted meat, my dad, a former Little Bird Marine, took his Semiautomatic Service Grand into the forest, while my mom preferred to use her bow for hunting. Although it's a tangent, I find political correctness and censorship to be absurd."

Macaroni added, "Many women in my family bake bread from scratch. Every morning, my grandma bakes a loaf, and before dinner, she prepares dinner rolls. For dessert, she always makes homemade biscuits with strawberry jam. Only once she used blueberry jam and that was for my ninth birthday. Grandma Ruby has made homemade biscuits every night and freshmade bread every morning since 1947 while taking care of her mentally challenged twin sister Diamond.

"I bet that was hard for her to take care of her identical twin sister with an IQ of 75 and a mental problem where she thinks that she’s three years old then Ruby got married and had a few kids so I bet that was a challenge for her. But she said that she wasn’t going to put her twin sister in a insane asylum or a mental hospital because us Watersons always take care of each other not adding that half of her brothers were fighting in North Africa, Europe, and the Pacific theaters in the Army, Navy, Army Air Force, and the USMC. Now I feel bad for my grand uncle Kevin who was a USMC Squad leader who died during the Battle of Peleliu and only for the battle to be pointless because the battle was all for nothing: General MacArthur decided not to use Peleliu as his staging ground for the eventual invasion of the Philippines. It was just six by two miles of hell and death, and in the end it was completely pointless.”

Neither Lusty or Macaroni continued the conversation.

“So what’s the most boring call you've ever been to?” asked Macaroni.

Lusty replied, “Elevator calls. In all the ones I have been to, the elevator is stuck, just open the doors then get the people out. Wish they weren’t boring or whatnot but they can't bitch about it because they never know what could happen. I’ve heard reports of elevators stopping for no reason then either dropping or skyrocketing to the top floors and the emergency brakes fail but in my case I only experienced where they get stuck, open the doors with an elevator key then get whoever out then that’s that.

"But I’m being careful or what I wish for where I don’t want to go and say I want to go to an emergency but in reality it’s more than I bargained for. I want to say I want to go to an emergency that’s big or large scale but at the same time I know one day we could be going into something out of control. To put it into simple terms if an Engine Company can’t handle it then it goes to a Ladder Company and if it can’t be done by a Truck Company then it goes to a Squad Company and if a Squad Company can’t do it then it goes to a Rescue Company and both the Rescue and Squad Companies are the last line of defense because there’s no one else they can call. Or in other terms by your cousin Dave said and he said ‘If firemen are soldiers in a war that never ends then the members of the Rescue and Squad Companies are the Green Berets’ and that’s true. When I was first pregnant which sometimes I regret but hindsight is the perfect vision.

"But when I was first pregnant during my third trimester there was an emergency that Squad Co 141 went to and that was a pyro mishap in a concert in the forest which whoever gave permits to that was a fucking dumbass. Fireworks and trees don’t mix but it caused a fire and a lot of people got badly hurt and a lot burned by the fireworks being mislaunched or something like that and some exploding in the crowd.”

“I guess this country doesn’t use GPS,” said Macaroni.

Lusty replied, “Why yes there is an enormous map of the station's area of responsibility. When a call from Dispatch comes in, it includes an address or other location, as well as the nearest street intersection. Whoever takes the call writes down the address on a notepad, then finds it on the map and quickly determines the best route to the location. It’s keeping with our 60s standards. Well, it’s the 1960s here in the city of Empire. It depends where you go on Little Bird but it varies from 1940 skipping the war to 1946 to the 1950s to 1960s. But I think our military uses GPS. I don't know and honestly I don’t care.”

***

Two months later

October 14th, 2006

“The fact it made it to the City of Empire District Court means that it ain’t just in the city,” said Lusty, “Or that serious."

End of Part One