UST: May 3rd, 3569 8:13 PM
Dear Journal: So I just got off from my call with Molly. The best way to describe it was...interesting. The conversation itself was pleasant as always. It’s what we talked about that truly concerned me.
Apparently, the miners in her district had been on strike for a few weeks now. She said this happened every few years when the contract was up for renewal. This time however, things are a bit more tense. She wasn’t sure if it was outside agitators or just the workers fed up with being screwed over by their reps each and every time.
Regardless of the cause, because of the rising tensions, a curfew has been called. This of course had the effect of pissing off pretty much everyone. Now not only were the miners on edge but so to were the average citizens who just wanted to grab a pint with their mates. The way Molly described it made me glad I was so far removed from it all.
Still though, a sharp pang of guilt spread though me at the thought. While I sit comfortably, Molly is in the thick of it. The very notion made me uneasy. She said she would be fine. As luck would have it, the very moment we heard it, a crowd of miners marched in the streets by her house. Wielding mosquito torches in addition to their collective voice.
Molly took the camera to the window to give me a better view of what was going on. What looked to a thousand people. Each one carrying the flame of defiance. Marching by her window. As one they shouted the slogan. “A thousand and two deaths are a thousand to many!” I asked when the curfew had started and she told me it began an hour ago.
So here there were a large group of protesters marching through the street in blatant defiance of the curfew. “Where were the cops?” I asked her.
No sooner had a spoken than the familiar purple and orange flashing light filled the square. I counted at list 6 squad cars lining the blocks. Things are starting to get real serious real quick I thought. My stomach filling with dread at what I knew was to come next.
Helpless to do anything but watch, I gazed on in agony as the cops yelled at the protesters to disperse over the loudspeaker. Of course not only did they refuse to comply, they got even rowdier as a result. “Molly, look! Over by the hoverbus station.” I said to her, noticing a woman that had lit off a molatov cocktail. We both watched in stunned silence as her arm cocked back and then as if in slow motion she hurled it at the cops. It missed her target thankfully but instead it hit one of the police vehicles. Quickly setting it ablaze.
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History would remember this moment as ‘The Throw Seen Around The Solar System’. For while I had a front row seat, at the time I was unaware that the media had been live streaming the entire event. Hell, my parents were watching the same thing I was in very next room!
Well history was being made right in front of our eyes and it could not be more brutal. The cops opened fire on the protesters. They were probably waiting for something like this to give them even a semblance of an excuse.
The protesters didn’t scatter like I was suspecting they might. No, that would have been the logical thing to do. What they did instead was to charge the cops. This led to the expected result with the police breaking out the crowd control parameters. The first of which being the sonic screamer. A device designed to disorient any person close by not wearing the proper protection.
This tactic thankfully had the desired effect. Perhaps working a bit to well. With Molly’s place being close to the epic center of this whole damn thing, it wasn’t long before the screams reaches her. First to go was her window, the pane shattered all at once. It’s shards flying towards her. Thankfully she managed to duck under a table the moment the screamer broke loose.
I could no longer see her but my view of her room was still in full focus. From underneath her bed, I could hear her howling in pain. “My ears are bleeding!” She screamed at me. Than it all went dark.
“Mother fuc…” I roared, about to extort some expletives when my father burst in. Seeing me yelling at my computers screen. The only words it displayed being “Connection Lost”. He instantly put two and two together.
“Is she ok?” He asked. While only physically meeting her once, Molly had attended many teledinners with us. Both my parents found her endlessly charming. My mother never one to hold back telling me she was surprised a woman of her caliber would even be interested in me.
I looked up at him. Tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I had just watched the woman I cared for deeply be passively adjacent to what would be later known as a system shattering event. “I...I don’t know.” I said in between fits of crying. “The feed cut out right as the screamers broke through her window.
My father just stood there for a moment. Not quite sure how to respond. He was rescued by my mother rushing in. At first I thought it was to defuse the situation but when I saw she had a portable squawkbox in her hands I knew exactly what the real reason was. “Honey...It’s the head of the UPM Security council….” She paused when she finally was able to apprise the situation. She took a gulp, than continued. “...They want to speak with you about providing supplies for the upcoming conflict.”
He took the phone without another word and swiftly exited. My mother giving me a look of complete sorrow before following me.
She knew better than anyone the ‘Troubles’ that were about to begin...