– by Varlerian Ti’kihli

A short story about growing up, change, and the dignity that unites us all

War. Despite what you may hear, war is not what some fanatics may proclaim it to be. War is devastating, unmerciful, relentless, and cruel. It usually results in the gain of one, and the horrible loss of another. This is something my family is aware of all too well unfortunately, all too well…

———-

A bittersweet spell of nostalgia clouded the mind of young Tarcupe Inenheikio as he sat drearily in a 10×10 cabin cleaning the ash and dirt off the only toy he was capable of saving. He longed to be outside in the sunshine with his young friends, playing and running around the schoolyard; he wished to be with his adorable crush, Thecilia, and best friends, Jaikanen and Dentaurias. How could he though, Tarcupe saw for himself the merciless obliteration of the school as he barely managed to escape.

Tarcupe peered out the small, circular window of the speeding luxury yacht and saw a gloomy canvas no child should ever be exposed to. On this gloomy canvas was a weeping planet, Caldari Prime, being horrifically bombarded with balls of subatomic particles and slugs of metal traveling at hypersonic speeds. The canvas was lit with explosions on both the planet and it’s atmosphere as desperate Caldari forces tried to protect their home. The Gallenteans, supposed bringers of peace, were brutal and unrelenting in their assault of the Caldari home world. This would be an image forever imprinted on Tarcupe’s mind, and would scar him to the very deepest abysses of his soul.

Tarcupe turned away from the window slowly, and leaped onto his bed. Upon doing so, he was struck with the sharp pain of a wound he received on his upper left arm. Images and feelings immediately swelled his mind of his father screaming in pain as he covered Tarcupe and took the onslaught of metal shrapnel piercing his back; he was killed almost instantly.

At the time, Tarcupe had no time to take in what had just transpired. His mother desperately dragged him towards the hangar bay and into the ship. The family’s chauffeur wasted no time in lighting up the engines and making their way out of the city and off the planet. Expertly, the chauffeur evaded most of the incoming missiles, particle blasts, and metal slugs. He masterfully guided the average-sized vessel past the atmosphere and towards the dark side of a moon to assess the damage. The damage was minimal and the ship followed caravans of fellow compatriots making their way into safer space.

Eventually, they came upon a terrestrial planet in the system called Korama, the only one— Korama I. It was a lovely planet; Korama I had near perfect weather, beautiful landscapes, diverse animal life, and, most importantly, it was far from the scarful images of Caldari Prime. This planet would harbor the new beginnings of the Inenheikio family, or what was left of it anyway.

Starting anew was tough. The Inenheikio family had lost it all, everything, during assault on Caldari Prime. They lost their large sum of riches, their personal belongings, their friends, their livelihoods, all they had ever worked for and cherished. And, as with Tarcupe and his childhood, the family lost the thing most dearest to them— their home. Being on a relatively quiet planet in a relatively quiet system meant trying to gain back what they had lost was a feat best to be left in legends. So, the Inenheikio family settled for a more solemn way of life—farmers.

———-

Now here we are, a couple centuries later still living the same peaceful way of life. I would always ask my mother to tell me the story of how we got here, it helped me to go to sleep when I was a child. I grew fast, however, and I found myself soon spending most of my teenage days working on the fields helping my mother.

Whenever a Gallente would appear on a show while we watched the holoreel, my mother would immediately stop what she was doing and lock herself in her room. What she did in there, I would never know. The very sound of the word “Gallente” would be enough to make my mother cringe with discomfort and, I think, hate.

This was something I was quite accustomed to, however. It seemed to be quite the norm for people on not only my planet, but pretty much all of Caldari space. The assault, occupation, and loss of our home really seemed to strike in the cores of those who were descendants of people who lived on New Caldari at the time of the war. Caldari seemed to hate Gallente just for being Gallente as a matter of fact. It was all I could do to share the same hatred and malice towards Gallente; as to why I shared this hate, I did not know.

On days which I didn’t work in the fields I would go out with my friends. We would wrestle, gossip, and annoy the neighboring folks. Occasionally, when we could summon up the money, we’d head to the capital and buy ourselves a delicacy our parents would scold at us for eating— starcake. Life as a farmer wasn’t terribly exciting, you could barely buy the luxuries the more prominent would shower themselves in, so we learned to enjoy every moment of being able to experience “the good stuff.”

Sometimes, my friends and I would beat up a neighboring Gallente boy for no reason; his family was also dearth of money, as were most of us in our small town of Keisho. I’d occasionally hesitate to beat him up when I was young, this hesitation quickly dispelled the older I got. Like I said, hatred for Gallente was strong in my community; besides, no adults ever stopped us from bullying him so we thought nothing of it.

I liked to get away from it all at times and, with my mother’s consent, I would head off toward the Kazashten Plateau. It was a bit more inland than Keisho, and it’s monolithic height offered an impressive view of the land below. Atop it’s lush green-covered flats, I could see the zigzag fields of Keisho surrounded by the tall and thick Xeioda Rainforest. About fifty miles northeast of Keisho were the glimmering skyscrapers of our province’s capital city, New Icousa. The beautiful shoreline was snuggled closely around the rims of New Icousa and made it’s way all around our small island-continent of Leikukaven.

Strange as it may sound, I enjoyed the slow life of a farmer; I didn’t, however, enjoy the fact that I could never live a life of lavishness. Selfish as it may sound, I wished to be rich and to have money to travel and engage in all the frivolous activities that I saw rich people do while watching shows on the holoreel. Then I remembered my prominent family ancestry, and was quickly overwhelmed with hate for what the Gallente caused to my ancestors. Shortly thereafter those thoughts, a visit to our neighboring Gallente teenage boy would come to pass.

———-

My teenage years whisked by fairly quickly, and I found myself a young adult on this quiet blue world. I had grown accustomed to this precious greenish-blue marble by now; I had memorized the Kazashten Plateau trails down to the smallest rock and traversed the many paths of the Xeioda Rainforest. This was my home and I was to make my way on it.

I constantly strived to find a decent job so I could live the lifestyle I wished to live, but with little success. I became very frustrated with life, and directed all my anger towards the nearest Gallente I could find. I had not seen our neighboring Gallentean for years now, rumor has it that he committed suicide long ago— sucks to be him. Had it not been for them, after all, I would be on Caldari Prime living a prominent life of goodness and luxury; damn them Gallenteans, damn them all.

It was on a midnight of a typical tropical summer on Leikukaven that I found myself contemplating on what I should do. Alone on a open patch of land in the Kazashten Plateau, I lay in deep thought. Then, it happened. Far above in orbit, I could see a titanic battle taking place in those deep endless voids which I had never traversed.

Earlier that week there was a news report about CONCORD lifting the Planetary Prohibition Act on Capsuleers. I assumed the pilots in the two large fleets before me consisted of these so called “demigods.” Demigods. Psh, whatever. I could care less about the affairs of these immortals; prominent and wealthy enough to enjoy the lifestyles of traveling space, owning masses of luxury goods, having the gift of clones, and whatever else a Capsuleer had that I did not. I quickly went back to my contemplating and got the gift of a lightshow, and even a meteor shower or two of falling debris. Soon, however, a spell of drowsy sleep was cast over my body, and dreams soon danced around my mind.

A force greater than all that I could possibly imagine shook the plateau. This tremendous force was accompanied by an thunderous roar that nearly gave me a heart attack as I woke with the speed of striking lightning. As I apprehensively scanned the horizons around me, all there was to see was a thick trail of white-grey smoke that lead to a giant plume of dust about a quarter mile away from my position on the Kazashten Plateau. Cautiously, I made my way through the thick jungle brush and towards this fallen object not knowing what to expect.

I was thoroughly horrified by what I was witness to. It must have been decades, or so it seemed. I imagined it only took about fifteen minutes to reach the crash site, yet as I pushed back the jungle brush that obscured my view, a huge structure was unfolding before me. Quite a large portion of the structure was already assembled and it’s metallic superstructure was already gleaming well into the heavens. Dozens of swarming constructor drones and mechanical arms made good use of themselves as they rapidly built all sorts of hangars, factories, power generators, and God knows what else.

How could they? The nerve of these damn Capsuleers to invade my home world, and destroy it’s natural beauty with their foreign machinery and structures. My heart sank as five distinct booms echoed through my ears; I looked up in pure terror and saw huge rectangular modules, which I assumed carried similar structures to the one before me, land near and far on my planet. A torrent of hate, confusion, and fear flooded my mind. This was my home, and I wasn’t about to lose it the way my ancestors had lost theirs.

Onward I pressed, with a tread I was unaccustomed to; it was not me that was moving my body boldly towards the entrance of the silver superstructure. What force drove me to charge forward, I didn’t know. The march, however, seemed to last an eternity. I pondered upon who I would meet, and an ice cold chill managed to find it’s way creeping down the very deepest crevasses of my body.

As I neared the entrance, half a dozen armed militants had burst out of the thick metal doors and swarmed around me. They yelled at me, put me to the earth, and stuck their military-grade rifles at my head. I was almost certain they would kill me right there and then, but their intentions were halted by the entrance of a man wearing a business suit.

He was a tall slender man about my age, and strode forward with beaming professionalism and elegance. His glossy brown hair was smoothed back in a wavy fashion, and his face was clean-shaven. The suit he wore was sharp as can be, and the shoes were more polished and pure than that of the best water in the well of Keisho. I kneeled there in awe of the man for centuries it seemed, for peculiar cloud of familiarity drifted over him the longer I stared. The man made quick gestures and the enclosed circle of militants opened up and released their aim on me. He stood there, patiently. My heart was racing as the man looked down at me, observing and judging; apparently he could sense my extreme fear because he chuckled to himself quietly. The man extended his arm down to me.

The fact that I had known this man didn’t give me any relief at all, it merely instilled more penetrating fear into my already fragile body. We continued to stare at each other for moments longer in awkward silence. I reflected upon all the cruel acts I’d committed upon Korsavius when we were young; I shivered slightly in fear wondering if he would return this treatment ten times worse, since he had the power to. And he most certainly had the power to end my life right there and then should he have the ill will to do so. I vented my thoughts to him shortly, thereafter.

“Heavens, no”, responded Korsavius immediately. “Sure you and your friends may have made my young life hell…but after putting myself in your skin and walking around in it, I could understand where you were coming from. I’ve waited a long time to say this but, I’m sorry.”

I was simply star struck. To hear the very person who I had pretty much tortured when we were younger utter those words from his mouth brought warm streams running down my cheeks. Never before in my life had I ever been so confused with such emotion. To hear Korsavius, a Gallentean, say he was sorry to me, a Caldari, was so surreal. After I managed to regain my composure, Korsavius invited me inside the gleaming superstructure.

Inside, we grabbed a seat at the luncheon and talked about our lives from the point where rumors started spreading of him having committed suicide. Hours drifted by, and this is what he told me. Around the time we were eighteen, Korsavius was offered to join the Capsuleer program while on a visit to New Icousa; he applied within a heartbeat. His employers then immediately sent him on a shuttle speeding towards their training facilities on a nearby station. After some months of training he was well on his way towards becoming a prominent demigod of the cosmos. About a year or so later he founded the Aegis Defense Foundation, a corporation which provided top-of-the-line security services to those whom could afford it. A couple years later when CONCORD lifted the Planetary Prohibition Act on Capsuleers, Korsavius made arrangements and preparations to secure Korama I as his own. His intentions were true and pure, however; he only wanted to set up a few mining settlements on Korama I which wouldn’t cause significant damage to the planet, and he wished to create dozens of new large cities which would attract tourists and boost the economy.

When I learned of these plans, the only thought that ran through my mind was “Bless his heart.” Korsavius was going to beautify my planet— our planet. In a matter of hours, decades of being raised to despise Gallente and never forgive them had been beautifully transformed into the acceptance and understanding of a race which I had never given a chance to understand…to walk around in their skin and see the world through their eyes. It all seemed to make sense to me now. Hearing all the propaganda of this universe being a place of cold hatred, prejudice, and evil simply melted away in my memory for I knew. I knew this universe was cradle to love, tolerance, and good in a handful of bright individuals, and Korsavius was one of them. I felt as though I had joined the ranks of those individuals at that moment of realization.

Shortly thereafter, Korsavius hired me as Director of Planetary Operations. I was a bit surprised that he entitled me to such a prestige position within his corporation despite the fact that we had only recently caught up with each other. I suppose it had to do with the fact that it seemed like we knew each other for centuries after our conversation.

Months passed and our dream of living on a beautiful paradise to call our own became a reality. Korama I was our home, our thriving home which fate had conspired us to walk and breathe on. I even got my wish to become filthy rich, but I found little satisfaction in the extreme wealth so I donated the majority of it to charities and construction projects that further beautified our planet. Within about nine months I had joined the ranks of the demigods, and embraced it.

———-

War. Despite what you may hear, war is not what some fanatics may proclaim it to be. War can be destructive, unmerciful, relentless, and cruel. Yet throughout my lifetime war is the thing that has shown me it could be a miracle force which creates, imposes reform and change, reveals unexpected benevolence, and mandates optimistic dreams. War was the force which killed a countless amount lives on Caldari Prime in the past, and the force which had moved my ancestors into poverty. Out of the darkness from that fate, however, a retribution of flourishing life and prosperity arose on an entirely different world. A retribution which was spearheaded by a man of the very race which conspired against my people. War is like a pendulum, if you will. It precariously swings back and forth between the fragile borders of beaming benefit and dark uncertainty. War can result in the terrible loss of one, and the triumphant gain of another; I have experienced the results to be a loss of many and the rebirth of that loss, only all too many times greater. This is something I’m aware of all too well fortunately, all too well…

The End