Who; Dalia and OPEN TO ALL What; AU!victory of Serenity Valley Where; Londinum Summary; Watching the world fall apart.
The Parliament building was a smoking ruin. Word had it you could see it from space, just before breaking atmo, like some big blemish on the face of a perfect man-made world. Dalia couldn't say either way - her transport had set down on the dark side of the planet and all she'd noticed was that the lights of Londinum were considerably dimmer than stories held. Some of it she figured she could blame on the new leaders who had a better sense of what was excessive, but most of it was scarcity. It didn't matter. No planet had any business beaming brighter than a sun in the black. It was wrong.
It was no better to see so much destruction, but knowing that it was righteous, that the victor had saved millions more soothed the tightening sickness in her stomach. The hard slap of wind against her face signaled the descending short-range shuttles that still bore the Alliance seal but now served their enemies. They patrolled about twice a day, picking up strays and people who didn't look like they belonged and had them tried for treason. That never made much sense to Dalia, but she knew better than to get into a battle of wills and ideology with a bunch of war veterans. Peace didn't agree with them and, frankly, she wasn't there to police anyone.
Ducking into what had been the federal prison, she checked her pocket. Dogtags. She'd need those if she wanted any trade. The post-war fervor had died down, but proof of Allegiance made you instantly likable to some and kept suspicion at bay - at least until you stated you purpose. Precautions were no less necessary now that the war had been won. Turncoats still roamed and rumors abounded about an Alliance resistance somewhere on Lilac.
Inside the prison walls, sitar music and the discordant choir of voices abounded. Fifty-six floors of tradesmen and women, taverns, inns and whorehouses spread out in a miniature depiction of what hell must've looked like. To Dalia, it felt like home. After ten years in a similar facility, with less supervision and more cruelty than man should have to withstand, there was little way to deny that enclosed spaces felt familiar.