A planet is ravaged by illness. Thanks to closed minds raving against the thing that prevented the disease, wearing livesuits everywhere to avoid contracting the immunoflu, the illness still spread. Once people contract it, well, most that contracted it died. The authorities had enough, it was time to DO something. That is when the drones appeared, and immunoflu was going to be coating the planet like ancient farmers dusting their crops. -- Anon Guest
Death and disease do not discriminate. They do not care if the person is high or low class, clean or dirty. They do not care if they "eat clean" or have crystal power on their side[1]. Viruses are made to spread, no matter what. They especially like to spread in the polity of Alrites, where it's all rights, all the time, and little to no responsibility.
The established way of running society has risen and collapsed numerous times, and it was overdue for another collapse before this particular plague hit. Now? It was just dying.
It looked like an everyday rhinovirus, at least in the beginning. The fever lasted for a week, and then, as the patient deteriorated, their senses failed them. Some survived, but that was a thin gloss over the generalised nastiness of the plague. Mediks from the Alliance first advised wearing simple cloth masks, washing hands, and keeping space between an individual and anyone else. Alrites had the rational, considered response of... rioting in protest against the "iron fist" of the Galactic Alliance.
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