"Thank you. After I completed my education and training at 16, I was assigned to a low-level administrative position at a collective farm near the western border. At 18, I was assigned to a family unit at the commune, and ordered to have a child. Barely a few months after I had him, I heard a loud, ear-splitting boom. Inspecting the security feeds, I saw that the fertilizer tanks were on fire. Flames were shooting twenty, thirty meters in the sky. And rewinding the video, I saw that the fire was deliberately set. Probably another poor subject who had given up on life, who wanted to defy the Dominion with his last act on earth. Furthermore, nearly all of the commune's guards had rushed to the explosion, along with the slave barracks. Including my assigned partner, though he never had any love for me or my infant son.
At that point, I had to make a decision. I could stay at my post. My loyalty would likely be noticed. I could possibly get a promotion soon, maybe a slightly better life for myself, and a greater chance for my son in his G.O.A.T. Or, I could do what I really knew what was best. This close to the border, I had heard the occasional stories, about this strange concept called 'freedom'. Or, as it could best be expressed in Standard, 'reduction of regulations'. So I set the security feed to loop, grabbed my son's crib. My partner had conveniently left a vehicle keycard in the domicile, so I stole a hoverbike and made a break for the border with my baby, while the Morale Monitors were busy putting down the rioting slaves.
After about an hour, I was nearly at the border, and skirting the edge of a forest. Until I saw a VTOL over the horizon, bearing down for me. I had no choice but to cut the yoke and enter the forest. And then..."
Diane begins sobbing, uncontrollably
