E M E R G E N C Y B R O A D C A S T
G e m i n i d a e, C o n s o r s S y s t e m
G e m i n i d a e, C o n s o r s S y s t e m
"Hiding. That had always been our main strength. Nestled in a dark recess of the universe, away from prying eyes and scheming ears, the Consors System has grown and prospered. It had become an ode to evolution, to development. Knowledge both found and stolen, merged, just like the people that walk beneath the shadows of the ever watchful Celo nebulae that veils it. An empire. A bastion, unwavering and unmarred."
"How has it come to this?"
"How has it come to this?"
The velvet, calm voice of their Sovereign boomed through empty streets, and his finger trembled over the active comm recorder. He would be killed for this. But it was his last hope. "We are in danger. We have betrayed ourselves for too long, and now it is time to make amendments. Martial law has been declared throughout the Consors System, please remain within your households and await further instructions." He pushed the knot that paralyzed his throat away, finding the courage to continue his message.
"Now broken glass planes have taken over the ground levels of our sky-high cities, and the ominous silence of fear and confusion numbs down the people that once proudly called it home. They won't wake up, not before it is too late. Peace never lasts forever, not even while in hiding. Jailed innocents, civilians broken by the hand of the law, sudden disappearances... Violence, all in the name of safety..."
The sound of sirens and speeders sprinting everywhere made a chill run down his spine. They were out again, hunting. "All foreigners are under order 994 of the Extradition Act, report to the customs stations and leave the Consors System at once. Failure to comply shall result in disciplinary action." Soon, it would be his turn too.
"This is our home. But no one is safe anymore, they can't see it. Our Sovereign has gone mad. She drew the curtains over our system once more, had us pull away from the galaxy we were ready to embrace. And those who try to stand against her are crushed. Traitors, she called them. Terrorists. Our friends, our families. Killed, taken. We do not know what has become of them. We are alone. This is how death sets upon us. Brutality and paranoia handed by the one we trusted. Our nation has become a cage, and it will soon be a catacomb. I send this message out to all that might hear, do not believe what the authorities say. Help us, before she kills us all."
A trembling finger then moved to hover over the archives he had stolen. The true evidence behind his fear filled rambles, his terrible accusations. Hidden, and alone. No one would know the terrible fate that had fallen upon them if it was not for this one last act of rebellion. One last cry for help. A man so little, so insignificant, and yet he had been chosen to carry the weight of billions. One more goodbye, and then, within his little office, he would aim for that red button he had stared at in fear for so many weeks. Long-range emergency broadcast.
"May we live to see the dawn."
He would never reach it. The screech of breaking glass was the last thing he would hear, the angry glow of a rifle bolt the last he would see before his mission was put to an end, unfulfilled. Another traitor's blood dirtying another chair. Perhaps this was the price for their anonymity. A genocide no one would know of. Wails that would only find their oppressor's ears. They were running out of time.
