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[center][h1][b][color=tan]Free Workers of La Parranda[/color][/b][/h1][/center]
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[center][i]Fort Solido - ten minutes until midnight[/i][/center]

"It's a great night, no?" mused Martin, looking out from the tower in the centre of Fort Solido. "A great night, a peaceful night, soon to be followed by a crisp dawn."

"Spare me the metaphors," said the dark skinned woman next to him, leaning on the railing. "I have bad news."

"It's [i]always[/i] bad news with you," said the President with a smile, reaching over and smacking the woman in the military coat on the shoulder. She gave him a look. "Come!" Martin carried on, waving a bottle in his hand. "Live a little! We've achieved something great today."

"We built a wall," Marshal Asturias replied flatly, waving her hand down at the town below them. "It's made of scrap metal. And those are [i]huts[/i] down there, not houses. Look at it."

A throng of people stood below, singing and waving their arms in unison. The new national anthem, recently composed by a budding young singer with a deep voice, rang over the cheers of the crowd. There he stood on a stage made from wood that wasn't even real wood - probably some plastic made from other colonies' waste - and sang through a crackling microphone, eyes closed, one arm over his heart and another pointed toward the North Star. The red sand beneath the feet of the crowd seemed to glow in the pale, white lights that illuminated the scene. All this was done to a backdrop of tents, sheds with tin roofs, unfinished wells and an unfinished wall.

"I am looking," said Martin after a long pause. His heart swelled with pride. "I see hope."

"I see a safety hazard," replied the black haired, black skinned woman.

"[i]Que asco,[/i]" lamented Martin, looking at her with concern. "I have figured it out. You are completely incapable of being optimistic."

Senora Asturias ignored that comment. "With all due respect," she continued, waving down below once more, "a gunshot, grenade or enemy aircraft could turn this celebration into a bloodbath in moments. The walls are unfinished; our anti-air defenses are [i]crude[/i] next to what they'd be shooting at, and we have a nice, red bullseye painted on our nation's flag. It's called 'toppling a megacorporation.'" The Marshal narrowed her eyes. "You should look that up in an encyclopedia sometime. It's listed between 'bad ideas' and 'Wayang Incident.' You know, the one where some [i]pendejos[/i] thought it would be real smart to take down Wayang Industries and got their asses pulverized? Literally?"

"Yet you followed through with it," the President noted. "You were with us the whole way."

"And with ousting the dictatorship that was about to take its place, yes, [i]I am keenly aware of that.[/i]" Asturias folded her arms over her chest, glowering at the president. "But you're missing the point. Yes, we did the right thing; but we're going to be an easy target for the Bloody Brothers, for other corporations... and for Skyguard." Adelina dropped that name last for emphasis and instinctively dropped her hand to her holster. "They've sent more ships to Mars. That's the bad news. Chew on it. Do you want our people wiped out by a passing spaceship, huh? Do you think they somehow won't notice what we've done here?"

Martin grew quiet. Gloomily, he looked back down at the crowd below and saw what she meant. There was hope there, yes, but it was a fragile thing. A single disaster could destroy everything they'd worked for: years of planning, of secret meetings, hundreds of lives lost...

"So what do you suggest, [i]¿mi amiga?[/i]" he asked, taking his brown black beret from his head and clutching it to his stomach.

"Let them have tonight," the Marshal said slowly, drumming her fingers on the rail. "Tomorrow, we need to get the non-settlers and non-essentials back to the city ASAP. Negotiations have to be initiated with our neighbors, especially the other colonists; we'll need trading partners, and we need to do damage control with our relations. Once that's done..." Adelina leaned on the railing, looking out into the distance. "Once that's done, we'll need to get new equipment, STAT."

"We do have a few of those old Harasser vehicles," de La Parranda mused. He removed a couple cigars from his pocket, lit two of them, and offered one to the Marshal. "Those are Talon devices, no? Our metal's still good; they'd probably be willing enough to take raw materials for their old weapons."

"It won't be a popular decision," noted Marshal Asturias, glancing over at the President. "Your people - our people - were freed from a corporation only weeks ago. There will be debate among our leaders, and the people won't be happy with this decision either..."

"I trust in our nation," Martin said fervently, clenching his fingers tightly around his beret. "I believe they will understand my decision. I need only speak with them."

Asturias stared at the man. "Don't let this become another [i]junta[/i]," was all she said. Then, she took that cigar he offered to her and breathed the smoke in deep before exhaling a long, curling mist of the stuff. "We need stability, and our government hasn't even decided what form it will take besides having you at the helm."

"I won't," the President said quietly. "We won't have more violence among us. But you're right: we need those weapons, and the TSDC might be the best ones to provide them..."

"Just don't fuck up," Adelina said firmly. Then, she turned toward the door leading down the steps of the tower and shut it behind her just as the final countdown to midnight began.

[i]"... cuatro, tres, dos, uno..."[/i]

And at 'zero' fireworks filled the air; cheers rose to impossible heights, and a thousand arms lifted into the sky in clenched fists. President Martin de La Parranda, leader of the [i]Trabajadores Libres de La Parranda[/i], stepped forward and lifted his own.

[i]Let them have tonight,[/i] he mused.