My name is Legion Greystone, Sergeant of the P rats, and today is June 23rd, 3024. I'm sitting here with some military men from the Solar Defense Force's developmental unit here on Earth discussing the events that occurred 12 years ago, the Fall of Pluto.
This is a bit too much, really. If sitting in a dark, dank room, handcuffed to the table with two armed baboons isn't enough, the only intelligible thing I've been spilling my guts over is a camera sitting across the table from me. Not what you'd call very inviting.
"Where were you in the events that transpired on December 23rd, 3009?" A dull voice coming from the camera asked.
I can't help but roll my eyes. It gets boring after awhile when they keep asking you the same questions over and over again, as if they expect you're going to give a different answer.
"I was at a birthday party with my friends having a blast, we had a cake and everything!"
"Just answer the question please." The dull voice annoyingly replied.
I sigh, "How many times do I have to tell you guys? You should have at least twenty recordings of this by now." There is no response. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you again. Only because you asked nicely." I sarcastically say to the camera.
I close my eyes and concentrate, thinking hard about that time twelve years ago…
"I must have been at least seven years old when the Solar Defense Force struck the mining operations on Pluto. The Solar Defense Force and the Galactic Star Collective have been "at odds" with one another for a number of years before this, so it was inevitable for Pluto to be the hotspot for their feud. For being such a small planet, Pluto was extraordinarily and surprisingly rich in resources, so it's no surprise the Galactic Star Collective took it over so quickly."
"What else happened?" The same monotonous voice asked.
"Well, during the takeover, more than six-hundred Plutonians died. Many men, women, and children were killed during the orbital bombardment, the Galactic Star Collective sent ground troops to the surface to extract the remaining survivors and helped them "assimilate" as GSC citizens to "build a better tomorrow." That's what they told the SDF to cover up their enslavement."
"You know," I say staring at the side, "kids who were ten and older were sent into the mines to be worked to death and got food scraps as payment. If they so much as disobeyed – hell, even if they didn't have the strength to stand – they were taken to get "rehabilitation." Those kids were never seen again after that. I'm lucky I wasn't old enough to be put in a shithole place like that."
There was a pause for silence, the monotone voice didn't say anything for a bit. I can hear the heavy breathing of the guards standing behind me with this deafening quiet.
The shuffling of papers can be heard coming from the camera, I guess they're coming back to ask me more useless questions.
"What else are you able to tell us?" the dull voice asked again.
"Hmm," I thought for a moment. "Nothing else that I can think of. But hey, if you want an encore, I'll be happy to oblige." I say grinning.
"Alright, that concludes today's interview. Sergeant Legion Greystone, you are dismissed." The dull voice said. Papers are heard shuffling again with a set of footsteps walking off. The camera light turns off.
On the contrary, I have a lot on my mind; but I'm just glad I get to leave. "Finally, can you two goons take these cuffs off now? They're chaffing my wrists."
I stand up and one of the guards comes and unlocks the handcuffs. I rub my wrists and look at the guard,
"Hey, next time if you're gonna put those on so tight, take me to dinner first okay?"
He grunts and rolls his eyes at me as I pat his chest and walk out of the recording room.