You are Iwo Malinowski. Once, you were a police officer in Yetrizcy, capitol of the peaceful republic of Awsbet. You lived in a cozy apartment, shared with your younger brother, Karlo.

Awsbet was a quiet place, peaceful and a little backward, where people still rode horse-drawn carriages and used gas lights in their homes, taking their time to join the rest of the world in the coming future. It was a good place to call home... Until the Federation crossed the border in October.

Your small and outdated army never stood a chance before the Eortite Federation's mobile armor and machine guns. In just weeks, they swept through your nation and took the capitol, forcing the Premier to sign an unconditional surrender. As the first signs of spring emerged in Yetrizcy, the Federation's troops paraded triumphantly through Constitution Square and martial law was instated under the new Military Commissioner.

As the nation reeled from the shock, you and your brother were among the first to contemplate resistance. Together, you gathered a small group and planned your strike - setting a bomb to go off just as a handful of enemy officers were sitting down for lunch... It was a plan that left you as the sole survivor. Karlo, Paul, Triss and Harken were all gunned down by the occupiers.

But you refused to let their deaths be in vain. You pulled yourself up and started over. With hatred burning in your heart, you sought out new allies and met Aneta, a member of the university's Democratic Society. Together, you planned an ambush on Federation censors and stole away priceless relics of your nation's past from the Museum of Art and Civilization.

There's blood on your hands now. A military policeman and half a dozen soldiers have died at your hands, but the censors themselves escaped unharmed. All the same, you managed to escape the museum with ammunition, a plundered rifle and your life, while your accomplice hid the stolen relics.

Now you sit on your bed across from Aneta. She's a few years younger than you and as you watch, a few strands of auburn hair slip free of the bun behind her head, falling into her dark eyes and making her push them away with a huff. Her short skirt (barely below her knees-!) and shiny walking boots are fashionable, but she's still a working-class girl, in spite of her university education; you've never seen her truly neat and tidy. Then again, given your background before moving to the city was a full-on country bumpkin, you're not one to judge.

"So," she asks, "What went wrong?"

"The censors realized when they saw the cases," you explain, "They sent a runner to tell everyone to put the museum on lockdown; I tried to take him down, but got seen and had to make a fight of it. I was out-numbered like, four-to-one and pinned down, so I had to cut and run before the gunfire drew the whole place down on me. I think I got..." you count off on your fingers, "One, two, three- Six of them? Plus the sergeant right at the end."