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the euphemistically named ‘Work Placement Program’ barely earned enough at their government set wage to pay their government set rent.
    The only people who benefited from Ardennes’ ‘social safety net’ were the corporations who played nicely with the government.
    With so many people moving on foot, even a tall woman with dark hair and spacer-pale skin didn’t attract much notice. Amiri reached her destination without interruption and silently slipped through the side door of the rundown bar.
    She trusted the kitchen in the bar to be cleaner than the one she shared. The beer, on the other hand, would have been happier poured back into the horse.
    Amiri ordered it anyway as she took a seat at a side table, her eye on the dais used for various performances - sometimes comedians, sometimes strippers. Tonight, the dais held a simple podium and microphone. No fancy banners, no dancing pole, just a completely anonymous speaker.
    The room was rapidly filling. The grapevine had carried the buzz about tonight’s speaker to a lot of ears. No details of who he was - but the rumor was that he had news about the Karslberg Massacre.
    She was halfway through the sandwich of tofu pretending to be steak when the growing noise level of the bar suddenly cut off. A man had emerged from the shadows to stand in front of the microphone. He was a blandly dressed, mousy man with faded brown hair and eyes.
    “I ain’t giving a name,” he said bluntly into the microphone, his amplified voice reaching across the room. “I ain’t asking for ‘em, either. I’m from the Freedom Wing, and I’m here to bring you The Truth!”
    Amiri could hear the capitals and classified the speaker as a shill. He was an ancillary member of the Wing - the main rebel group, so far as she had learned in six months - and hugely enthused with the risk and drama of his position.
    “The news tells you we blew up Karslberg,” the speaker said bluntly. “That, somehow, we dropped a rock from a sky the government owns to kill a town full of our friends and allies.”
    From the muttering around the room, Amiri hadn’t been the only one to disbelieve that. She’d once been a bounty hunter and seen some of the worst humanity had to offer - but people stupid enough to try stunts like that tended not to succeed at them.
    “My brothers, my sisters,” he gestured around the room. “Karlsberg revolted . The miners, driven by one demand too many, rose up in righteous fury and drove out the Scorpions! Standing shoulder to shoulder, they showed that we will not be slaves!”
    The muttering was a rumble now - an angry rumble, but one in support of the speaker.
    “Freedom Wing Alpha was heading there to raise the banner of planetwide rebellion when Vaughn struck.” The speaker’s voice was soft now, and Amiri strained with the rest of the room to hear. “Never forget, my brothers - Vaughn and his cronies own our skies.
    “His minions cast down fire from on high, and Karlsberg burned. Alpha was saved only because they were delayed by Vaughn’s attempt to use the Army to suppress the rebellion.
    “Mage-Governor Vaughn destroyed Karlsberg,” the Freedom Wing member suddenly bellowed, his words echoing around the bar as its occupants quailed. To outright accuse the governor of mass murder was a line even this friendly crowd were uncomfortable with.
    “He murdered fifty thousand of our brothers and sisters - and the Martian ships stood by and did nothing !”
    Now the crowd was turning ugly, and it wasn’t directed at the speaker. It was directed at the government. If they weren’t careful, there was going to be a riot here - and Amiri doubted that was what the Freedom Wing wanted. Seizing a small mining town with a surprise revolt was one thing - Nouveau Versailles wouldn’t fall to anything impromptu.
    “Alpha has a plan,” the speaker told them. “We will bring Vaughn down - in the time of our choosing. We know, now, that we can’t expect Mars to save us -