I have worked with the Amarr long enough to know how few of the millions of evacuees will share their account, truthfully I’d also prefer to leave that day in the past; when the space left by our silence began to be filled with propaganda and untruth, I was moved to speak of it, and to humbly ask other survivors to do the same– if you can find the words, please share them.
I departed Port Sarum two hours and twenty-six minutes before its destruction was reported, I don’t know how, or why it was destroyed; I’m not here to lecture or prevaricate, but by the few truths I do hold in confidence leave less fertile ground for the Kybernaughts to edify their violence as generosity.
Evacuations had been proceeding throughout the day, people were scared, tempers frayed, what little news we had of the wider system wasn’t good; while I do recall hearing that some slaves had made a break for the more distant tunnels, it never seemed at the forefront of anyone’s mind. The garrison’s soldiers were by early afternoon were rotating their personnel between managing the evacuation and holding the perimeter, and with each rotation those who returned were more bloodied than the last.
By dusk, little more than three hours before the port was destroyed, the garrison commander had committed so much of his force to holding a perimeter as to leave little more than his walking wounded to police the evacuation of hundreds of thousands of frightened and desperate men and women, many giving voice to the same question occupying my thoughts “how long can the transports keep coming?”