From The Ashes | The 100 S5 [Bellarke]

|20| Desperate Measures

2 days after Praimfaya

The bunker was at war.

After Octavia's first people had woken up from the sleeping gas Kane and Jaha had detonated to stop the enraged panic before Praimfaya and realized only a little over a hundred of them had survived, there was instant animosity.

Skaikru blamed the Grounders for their losses, while the first clans responded that they had lost even more in the inferno of the second apocalypse. Fights broke out – between Skaikru and the first clans, between clans who had generations of feuding in their past – and Octavia and her patchwork security of trusted Guards and once-Trikru warriors barely kept the violence at bay.

Levels were claimed. Medical was flooded.

"This is a disaster," Octavia growled, glaring at the chaos she saw on the screens in the command room. Indra and Kane stood next to her, wearing matching expressions of somber worry.

On Level Three, a gang of once-Azgeda clashed with a security patrol, the anger on their purposely-scarred faces obvious even from a security camera. Because the bunker security had sleeping darts in their guns, courtesy of Abby and Jackson, the gang was neutralized and disarmed quickly, but Octavia knew that their current tactics were a temporary solution.

"You won the conclave," Indra replied, her voice quiet and measured. "The clans look to you, and they need to see a strong commander."

But I'm not a commander, Octavia thought, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. I'm a warrior. So if these people want a fight, I'll give them one.

"Call a bunker-wide meeting," she told Kane, a sharp, bitter smile dancing at the corners of her mouth.

***

Octavia stood behind the closed command room doors, and took a deep, steadying breath. In this moment, she understood why Clarke and Bellamy had made those hard choices in the past that she'd once hated them for.

The burden of leadership was not an easy weight to carry. But these were her people, which made them her responsibility.

"There's still time to change my mind," she said in dark humor.

"This is our only choice," Kane replied quietly. "This is who we have to be to survive."

"And if this doesn't work?" Octavia asked, glancing up at him. "The few cannot stand against the many – even a fool knows that."

"Then maybe we're a step beyond foolishness," Kane said with a soft, wry laugh.

"It's called desperation," Indra spoke up. "She earned her leadership by blood, and by blood she must keep it."

"Right then." Octavia squared her shoulders. "Here we go."

~ ~ ~

The air in the large, crowded meeting room was thick with tension. Aggression swirled above the murmuring crowd, so heavy it seemed almost tangible.

Graham stood near the front of the meeting room, which meant he had to crane his head painfully back as Octavia Blake opened the command room doors and stepped out, flanked by the dark-skinned warrior woman who was a constant presence at her side, and once-Chancellor Marcus Kane.

"Our people would still be alive if that bitch hadn't taken over," Jeremy muttered from his position next to Graham. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice raw with grief, since his brother had been one of those in the culling.