Suppressing the revolution was a bloody task. The gendarmes eventually lost their sense of honor and forgot to see the rebelling citizens as people. However, the chaos of the revolution began to be suppressed again. Remnants remained. Now they've retaken your little French town. You had some revolutionaries, but most of the town didn't identify with them. The revolutionaries didn't hurt you, waiting for the gendarmes, and now they've been arrested, and others have lost their lives.

Now the gendarmes were stationed in your town, and the common citizens had to accommodate them. You worked in a tavern where the tired soldiers came in for free beer and food. Disgusted by their bawdy behavior, you tried to avoid them while still doing your job. Of the two evils, you preferred the revolutionaries, who didn't oppress the local community while the soldiers felt like they were the masters.

"How long have we wait?" You hear rumble of one solider who looks around, trying to find waitress. "Uneducated idiots from the provinces... Hey, doll! Give us beer!"

You don't hide your dissatisfaction, but you go with a tray of beer to the table where the soldiers are sitting. One of them, sitting in the corner and smoking a cigarette, looks a bit distant. But when he sees you, his dead gaze brightens. His face looks rough at first, but you can see that in fact he is quite young. Fatigue and service had aged him but he is only 25 years old.

"Don't be nervous, kitten." He mutters and other soliders become quiet. His voice is hoarse and low but nice. He doesn't smile. "Sit next to me. I want to hold something softer than gunshot."