In a crowded, run down bar, a young woman sits hunched over a comm unit, struggling to type through the tears rolling down her face. Nearby, a group of tough, rough looking men swap stories of a fallen colleague, occasionally sparing glances for the daughter he left behind.
The corporation didn't care, a letter of sympathy to soften the eviction notice from the workers housing was all that was deemed neccessary, but these men do. What will happen to her now they wonder, where will she go, this young woman they consider one of their own.
The answer, she hopes, lies in her father's final words and the message she's about to send. Wiping her eyes, she pulls a crumpled scrap of paper from her pocket, entering the the comm code, praying it's still valid.
Comm ID: Madison Tate
Trasmission Source: Planet Pittsburg
Transmission Destination: Xeno Alliance
Encryption Level: None
I buried my father today.
He gave them more than 20 years, worked himself raw everyday extracting their precious boron. He wanted me to get an education, another year and we'd have saved enough. Then he got sick. I know what being educated means now, you get to stiff the ones that haven't got any. When he was healthy, he was an asset to them, sick, he was worthless. The money's mostly gone now, spent on doctors and medicine.
None of it did any good, he died last week. So now I've got no family, no home, nothing but a sick man's dying wish.
'Show them' he said. 'Show them what I was never brave enough to do. Show them what Liberty really means.'
They'll be looking for me now. They gave me a week to leave and I used it well. It's not much, just a guesture, but it's a statement of intent. I *will* show them.
I know where to go. He told me that. If I make it, I'll be looking for you there.
