So, this is my first story for Revolution and, hopefully, the first story in the archive. I also don't own Revolution, NBC, or David Lyons. If I did, there would be a lot more David Lyons in the show.
This is my interpretation of the motives behind the rise of the Monroe Republic.
Un-beta'ed, as usual.
- o – o -
Growing up, Sebastian "Bass" Monroe learned a lot about dogs. It wasn't hard, after all—his mother bred them, and his father was an animal control officer. His father had a saying: Rabid dogs could be useful, but only if they were carefully controlled. If they weren't, they had to be put down before they could destroy everything in their path.
Now that he was older, Bass thought he knew what his father meant. Monroe the elder hadn't been talking about animals, he'd been talking about people. Rabid dogs were dangerous and had to be put down. They couldn't be controlled—you just had to put them on a leash until you could find someone brave enough to put them down.
When the world had stopped, fifteen years ago, Bass had only thought about getting back to his parents. Traveling to another continent, though, was out of the question. He was stuck in the United States. The only person he knew outside of work was drinking himself into a stupor daily.
That was when the raiding parties started coming. The base, whose unofficial name was Camp Swampy (and that was the last time the general's grandkids had been allowed near the enlisted club) was safe enough. It was the civilians Bass was worried about. Six months before the raids had started, Miles—that useless drunken bastard—had vanished, deserted his post in the middle of the night. Bass didn't have time for that—there were civilians to protect.
Rabid dogs were useful when they could be pointed at what needed to be destroyed. Otherwise, they had to be put down for everyone's safety.
Bass took the base a few days later. The officers, mostly the older ones, had seemed almost relieved when he'd staged his coup. The enlisted men were all behind him. Their families needed the protection that Bass' idea offered. Why wouldn't they follow him?
People, like dogs, will follow the most commanding voice.
Bass buried the person he'd been before the fall underneath the façade of General Monroe, the cold-hearted dictator of the new Republic of Monroe. Over the years, he recruited more rabid dogs to his banner. Some came on their own, some were bought, some came when he destroyed their masters.
By the time Bass recruited Captain Neville from a small band of raiders he'd personally slaughtered, he was sure of what his father had meant about rabid dogs.
You had to put them on a leash before they tore the world apart.
Even if you were the one on the leash.
- o – o -
So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Want to give poor Monroe a hug or a swift kick in the rear? Drop a line and let me know!
Don't worry; if this gets invalidated by any of the episodes, I'll put an AU tag in the summary.