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[BE] 217, 7 (Alvega, Strouthos)
Shattered glass littered the street and the facade of the building was covered with slogans demanding the release of the slaves from the mines, justice for the victims of the bombardment of the atmosphere processor, the head of her husband on a pole and the threat of fates worse than death to her - a traitor to her people. The number 217 was sprayed in orange across the entrance - for the 217th day of the 590th year of the Hanrike era. The day of the martyrdom of 1127 freedom fighter heroes, or the necessary quenching of an uprising - depending on perspective.
The date had become a symbol for those who sought change on Xuria. And now it had been posted on the entrance of her new clinic, the night before it was supposed to open. Alvega was distraught and furious. Savages!
A security officer in iron lumbered out of the building holding something in his hand. "Mining charge, Milady, it wasn't primed, perhaps they were idiots, perhaps it's just a warning. We'll see if we can trace it. We have what we need, you can let your people in now."
"Thank you, lieutenant." she replied, and forced her feelings away for the moment to calm her face. The barricades were lifted, and the spectators scattered.
The date had become a symbol for those who sought change on Xuria. And now it had been posted on the entrance of her new clinic, the night before it was supposed to open. Alvega was distraught and furious. Savages!
A security officer in iron lumbered out of the building holding something in his hand. "Mining charge, Milady, it wasn't primed, perhaps they were idiots, perhaps it's just a warning. We'll see if we can trace it. We have what we need, you can let your people in now."
"Thank you, lieutenant." she replied, and forced her feelings away for the moment to calm her face. The barricades were lifted, and the spectators scattered.