Unseen Hands of Change

Anonymous, I never thought I’d be sitting in this sterile cell, the cold metal walls reflecting the chill that has seeped into my bones. Three days have passed since they caught me during that botched exfiltration near Telari Mines. The data capsule - gone. My team - gone. All I’m left with is this oppressive silence and the knowledge that my capture could mean doom for those still fighting on Tarsis IV. But even as I sit here, wrists bound and heart heavy, my mind wanders to the Idealists back home. They dream of non-lethal sabotage, of pushing against the Republic’s stranglehold without spilling more blood than necessary. It’s a noble cause, one I’ve given everything to.

The Republic would have you believe we’re insurgents, that we’re tearing our world apart from within. But what they don’t show you is the desperation in our eyes, born from watching our families suffer under their ‘aid’ and ‘stability’. They call it peacekeeping; we call it suffocation. In these dark hours, I find myself wondering if there’s truth to Admiral Korr’s words - are we truly misguided? The answer hits me like a slap in the face every time: No. We know exactly what we’re fighting for.

Even now, as sensors monitor every twitch and polite meal trays try to erode my resolve, I hold on to what drives us - not just vengeance or rebellion but hope. Hope that someday Tarsis IV will be free to govern itself without external strings pulling its limbs like a puppeteer controls a marionette. They may break me physically, but they’ll never claim victory over what burns inside me or thousands like me across our planet.