– by Logan Fyreite

The planet surrounding us had been a Shadowed, foreboding place. Forests of tall but ultimately useless trees grew in the valleys between the powerful peaks of the ever shifting mountains. Powerful thug cartels had run what little work was left, but even they lacked the money or resources to penetrate the thick layer of rock and dirt on our world or keep the majority of the wooden buildings standing through the tremors. The dirt and dust had settled all over our town after the mega corporations had left some years ago, taking their factories and mining equipment with them. I was left homeless and jobless at 33. It wasn’t a life, taking scraps of trash as food, living day to day with what work could be found, begged borrowed or stolen, or more likely survival through pure chance. I had watched many co-workers die from the cold, from starvation. It had left me numb, the only feeling left was hunger eating at my gut.

I heard rather than saw them, eyes drawn skyward towards the rumble of decelerating objects above. I didn’t know who they were, or why they were here, just looked up, jaws open, forgetting about the hunger in my belly or aches in my body. The wind whipped around us from the descent,clearing the thin layer of dust from our faces and bodies for the first time in ages, pushing it seemingly out of the town. A structure seemed to fall from the sky, supported by small craft and thick lines, moving slowly for some clearings in the dense woods a few kilometers outside our town.

Fear was the first emotion to spread through me, fear of the unknown, but it must have been stronger in the Cartel houses. Those men of limited power seemed at once humbled by the structure, seeking an answer, desperately trying to ensure their power remained intact. I saw them send one or two of their cronies towards the structures the first day, they moved through the back alleys, one lashing out and kicking me roughly, but none ever returned. A day passed, and a group of unemployed but brave locals gathered in the square. A heated debate followed, I didn’t participate. The cartel masters came down and forbade them to go, promising them death if they returned, or worse, no work or food. It didn’t seem to matter to some, already unemployed, hopeless… They headed towards the structure. I wasn’t with them, but some I knew were. They never came back. The people of the cartel grew more smug, guards laughing at the families they represented. Their heartless mirth was short lived.

The third day a hush spread over the town, a quiet so profound that it stopped work, and silenced the cartel bosses. Just before noon I could hear a faint noise, coming from the outskirts, the sound of a few people making their way through a crowd. I moved through the alleyways to get a better look. Nobody had to wait long.

A large mass of people came into the square, forcing me out of the alley I had been hiding in reluctantly so I could see them, hear them. I waded through the crowd slowly, finding holes I could slip into, nearing the front, at the same time fearing for my safety, expecting the return of the cartel gang members, now violent and triumphant in their conquest of the new distant structure. The sight that greeted me was not what I expected.

A small group of what looked like people from another time stood in the middle of the crowd. They were clean and dressed in simple but functional coveralls, smiling, backs to the central square, even some of their faces looked familiar but it was impossible. They spoke with easily people in the crowd as if old friends. I pushed towards the front trying to make out some of their words, breaking suddenly through the shifting crowd, nearly striking a tall, vaguely familiar man, clad in a clean pair of coveralls. My eyes focused on him, his face was no longer covered by the dirt or beard that had grown to cover his gaunt cheeks and strong jaw. “M..M.. Michael?” I stammered brokenly, his face coming into a shape I hadn’t seen in months. A smile. His eyes betrayed him, they were hopeful, not hungry, he reached out to me…

“David, someone came, it’s amazing what they have, tools we have never seen before, knowledge, hope.” His eyes filled with tears and he looked away, nearly whispering at the end, his hand holding my elbow. “David, they have food, water for us, for us all.” I stood there stunned, Michael turned to walk away, clearly understanding my loss for words. Spreading the word to others.

In less than a hour they came. Some were serious military types, visored, too scary to look at directly, emanating power, threatening violence. Others were smiling, dressed in the same utilitarian coveralls, standing in the back of the trucks driven by the military
men. They spilled from the back of the trucks, military and others alike, helping to drop boxes from their overloaded trucks, filled with supplies of all kinds. Things we hadn’t seen since before we had been abandoned as hopeless. Groups of the outsiders, these angels in dark blues and reds, walked through the crowds, following the trucks, helping the ill, and old. Even the Cartel workers stood in awe. The Cartel leaders remained on their balconies, supposed finery dwarfed by the simple efficiency and cleanliness of the outsiders. For once they were dirty like the rest of us.

A young lady appeared next to me, her piercing green eyes meeting mine, I tried to withdraw, but she handed me a bowl of warm stew. I took it greedily, but was simply ushered to a set of portable tables, a warm blanket wrapped around my skinny shoulders. I shuddered as the warm cloth touched my aching back and arms. It took just one bite of the warm stew, before tears of relief slid down my face, pooling at my chin as I lent forward for another bite, my tears dripped onto the table, dirty black against the white of the table. I tried to clean them away from the surface, leaving a black smudge from my unclean hands. I looked around, terrified, expecting to be expelled from the table. My fear was baseless, it didn’t matter, I couldn’t stop crying, or eating until the deep bowl was empty. Others from the crowd had joined me at the table and we all ate, drinking the cold, clear water from pitchers at the center of the table. The warmth of the stew met the warmth from the simple blanket and I leaned back, trying to understand my new found smile.

Michael found me there, beckoning me off to the side without saying a word. We had known each other from the factories before this planet had been labeled as “a net loss in profits.” I had been his boss, now it didn’t matter, it hadn’t mattered for a long time. “They plan to put us to work David, to help them create items they can sell.” He wasn’t scared at the idea, his tone matter of fact. His eyes were alight with chance, of a hope at a new life. “They have the means and the money to create factories quickly, to give us a life again.” My body shook like a frail old man, belying my 35 years.

“I thought we were abandoned,” I choked back the tears and the hope I felt, trying not to be sucked in. “Left to rot on this planet… Can we trust them? What makes them better than the mega corps?” I looked around again, seeing the fallacy of my own words as more were served food, cared for. “How do we know…”

I was stopped by a loudspeaker broadcast in the center of the square. A tall Siebestor stood there, broadcast by the speakers and projected by his strong, determined voice. “Some of you must know by now who we represent, CONCORD has allowed pilots access to the planets, and we represent them, or at least some of them. Now I will tell you what we are not! We do not expect you to trust us, but please listen…” He glanced over the crowd, his eyes taking us, our wretched mass, in. “We offer new jobs at the simple price that you do them, WELL. We will offer training, but even our funds and supplies are limited and in the end we need you to be successful so we can remain. We aren’t your government,” He spat the government word out like a curse, “and we don’t want to be. We are your employers, you are not our slaves.” He pointed over to a group of women setup around a long line of tables. “We can help each other, please.”

I shuffled towards the women lock step with hundreds of others. The Cartel members frowned down at us from their balconies of filth.

It was five hundred and fourteen days of a simple heaven before reality and the dust returned.

With over 9300 views yesterday, and after being featured on the EVE Online Latest News page AND the Insider page, and after receiving several new story submission entries, I’ve decided to try to up the amount of ISK we can give away.

My readers have already donated generously, raising over 1 billion ISK to give away to the winners of this contest! Writing stories isn’t easy; try it and you’ll see!

To this end, I have 2 PLEX on contract ingame individually.

The starting bid is 300 million ISK apiece, the relative going rate for PLEX right now. I’m hoping that if you’re reading this it means you’ve taken an interest in this community contest, and hopefully you’ll go ingame, look for auction contracts from Roc Wieler, and purposefully overbid on these two PLEX.

100% of the final price goes to the winners!

– by Shaprie

Diary entry 39015

Its been eighteen days since these inhuman people who like to call themselves Capsuleers invaded our planet. Who knows where they come from or what they want with us.

These animals have destroyed the major cities around us killing millions of people. There is havoc and panic every where. The debris and destruction of the cities has caused some destruction in our once quiet mining town. I’m going to try and find some where safe to bed down for the night.

catch you later

Diary entry 39016

Day 19 of the invasion, Last night it was the first time i had seen one of these Capsuleers. It was like an army of them walking through the streets rounding people up. They were locking people away in a big cage being pulled by some sort of tank vehicle. These people look like they don’t mess about; killing people who try to resist. I hope I’m not the last one.

Diary entry 39017

Day 20 of the invasion, Yesterday when searching for food I found life of my own kind, A guy called Biggs, He managed to avoid the Capsuleers also. Biggs has got an nice little den sorted through an access through a sewer, its some kind of old subway. Anyway, this morning we had to scout down to the mines to try and found some dynamite and blow some of these scum up. It;s real bad, the Capsuleers have taken over the mines and are using our people as slaves to mine our ore and minerals for them. Life’s not looking good.

Diary entry 39018

Day 21 of the invasion. All day we have been trying to find other people weapons and food, We managed to capture two of those Capsuleers. We gave him a good beating as well. The weapons the have look cool and complicated to use but they can really pack one helluva punch. One of the guys had a file with him: ” MISSION DUST 514 ” HIGHLY CLASSIFIED. I tried to read some of the stuff in there but it looks like computer code or something , What the hell is DUST 514 ?

– by Derek Steele

Act 1 – The Coming Darkness

“All I could see were lights, intense, blinding. My ears were full of sound, so much noise; the earth was reverberating with every boom. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed by fear. Everything became hazy, I remember a wave of heat washing over my body, and there was nothing. Stillness. Looking back on it I preferred the noise to that uneasy calm, like the eye of an incredible hurricane. The storm came in a wave of explosion. I think I was on the out edge of it, but it was still enough to throw me bodily into the tree behind me. I was dazed and confused, the whole world was shimmering before me, but I remember a second array of lights, far larger than the other, probably a hundred times its size, descend to the earth near it. It looked like three gigantic boxes strapped to each other. The next thing I can remember was the medics leaning over me asking questions that I couldn’t hear above the sound of my ears ringing. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Paola Zatrann looked over the interrogation before her with a deep sense of worry about her. As CONCORD’s emissary to the fourth planet in the Deltole system, it was her duty to ensure that its inhabitants were affected as little as possible by outsiders. Reports from her fellow emissaries from other planets in other systems were that there seemed to be increasing number of outsider incidents in the Algintal constellation. She couldn’t understand it, with CONCORD’s current ban on outsider influence on planets there had been relatively little to deal with, but this was the third incident within a solar week that this had happened, and that made her anxious. It made everyone anxious.

Zatrann thought it was about time to contact the CONCORD ambassador to Algintal and see what was going on. Thus far she had treated these outsider intrusions as isolated incidents, but her doubts were beginning to get the best of her. She knew what weapon could have been used out there, the “wave of explosion” as the witness had testified. Smartbombs. Smartbombs used on land protected by CONCORD by law. Sadly without a ship class or a destination trajectory the perpetrator of this incursion was unlikely to be able to be tracked. The trail was cold.

Reaching her office she simply said “Communicator”, and the wall sprang to life in a colourful display of activation.
“Welcome back Emissary Zatrann, How may I be of service today?” The voice was at once compassionate, and yet somehow devoid of any human emotion.
“Put me on to Ambassador Theelanis please.”
“One moment.” There was a brief pause as the computer attempted to make contact with the ambassador’s secretary in Jolia. “Contact successful, establishing link now.”
On the screen appeared the perky face of a young Gallentean female who seemed far too pleased to be fulfilling her secretarial role.
“Ambassador Theelanis’ office, how may I help you today?”
“I need to speak to the ambassador right away. It concerns possible violations of capsuleer intervention on my planet.”
“Ah, another one. Well, you’re in luck, he’s just arrived back from a meeting, patching you through now.”
The ambassador’s familiar, age worn face appeared before Zatrann.
“Ah, my sweet daughter,” he said in the tone that always filled Zatrann with warmth, “what is it that you need help with today? If it’s money you need you know you didn’t need to vid-chat me.”
“No, father, but I thank you for the offer. I come before you on business only, but seeing you of course is an added bonus. I have a problem father. Yesterday, for the third time this week, I believe that capsuleers have attacked sections of my planet with no provocation. I can’t understand it, I thought that the anti-capsuleer interaction ban by CONCORD was supposed to prevent this sort of thing from happening, and normally contact with capsuleers is quite limited. Suddenly, growing at an almost exponential rate, they’re attacking and scorching the planet, traumatising its inhabitants. Why is this happening father? Why is this happening to my planet?”
The ambassador looked down, worry and sadness creeping across his face, despite his attempts to hide it from his daughter.
“My girl. There is an impending storm on the horizon. I am not normally allowed to tell the emissaries this, but you are my daughter, so I am prepared to take the risk. The anti-capsuleer interaction ban you spoke of is being lifted at some point in the coming weeks or months. I myself don’t know exactly when, only that it is happening. It was supposed to be kept secret between CONCORD and its high level employees, but in an organisation so big, there are always leaks. Someone has told these capsuleers that this ban is being lifted, and they are illegally scouting these areas to try to find areas of potential worth before any others can legally do so. These intruders are pirates, the enemies of CONCORD, the ones we try to restrict to low security space but always seem to find their way back in. These attacks are not unique to your planet either, they are happening all over the universe, I would be thankful that you haven’t been on the receiving end of the worst ones. Some have been trying to mount a resistance, and have been met with overwhelming force. I can only imagine how bad it will become.”
“What can I do father?”
“Not a lot I’m afraid. Once the ban is lifted, CONCORD has relatively no say in the matter. They will not be responsible for policing the actions of the capsuleers. The best you can do is be prepared for the coming darkness. Hundreds, perhaps thousands ships, industrials, freighters, they will descend on worlds throughout the universe, and they will have little care for those worlds that they will exploit for their own financial gain. Your only real hope for your world is to move its people as best you can into major cities away from mineral rich hot zones. I’ve heard of incidents firebombing of civilian cities in the Amarr Empire, and I don’t think we can trust even the Gallentean capsuleers from not doing the same.”
“I can probably do some evacuations, but not enough. We have enough problems with civil wars on our own without outsiders. Things are going to get messy.”
“They most certainly are. Will you be safe there Paola? I can have you transferred to somewhere else…”
“No father, this planet is my home, and I will do what is necessary to protect it, to defend it, to ensure its survival. I hope that things will not become too difficult, but from what you’re telling me, I have a lot of work to do. I’ll leave it at that father, thank you for telling me this. My love to mother.”
“She sends hers as well. Good luck Paola. Be safe.”

The screen briefly became transparent and then began to display an image of the planet below.
“Is there anything else I can do to help you, Emissary Zatrann.”
“No thank you computer,” Zatrann sighed, defeated, “Just send me the planet’s representative. I think we have a long debate ahead of us.”

Act 2 – Invasion

Planetary court was in session, and the major representatives from the planet and the CONCORD representative were all in argument over the current issue of mounting a defence initiative, evacuating cities or just letting capsuleers destroy the entire planet with their naked profiteering. Like the millions around me, I stood in Victory Square watching in a state of anxiety as our leaders battled over what would happen to us, the little people. One thing was clear, doomsday was coming, and it was inevitable. The CONCORD representative had been notified that CONCORD was lifting the capsuleer ban on interacting with planets in the coming weeks, and I could see that all blame for our current situation was being placed squarely on her shoulders. She was flustered, but she held her own, even amongst all the anger and tension in the court. Of all our leaders, I put my faith in her. Her vote was for the evacuation of many of the citizens into three of our major cities and for the rest to migrate into designated “Low Strategic Value” areas in an attempt to avoid confrontation from the capsuleers. She also demanded a truce between all warring factions currently fighting between themselves, and unifying the world against the impending capsuleer incursions. While everyone knew this was unlikely, I still admired the force with which she spoke and the determination to do what she thought best for our people.

There was an audible crash heard over the video screen. Every representative looked in the same direction and began getting up from their seats. The transmission turned to static. Everyone began looking at each other in wonder, talking amongst each other in an attempt to understand what was going on. All of a sudden two pinpricks of light appeared in the distance, rapidly growing larger. The pinpricks reshaped into ovals as they sped above me and slammed into the Federal Administration Building.

My vision blurred, my ears ringing, I struggled to my feet amongst the dirt and the ash and the rubble, trying to see what was going on. I heard another volley pound into the building and my flight mechanisms finally kicked in. I ran. I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I ran past burning buildings, blood soaked bodies reaching out for a lifeline that would never come, past the ruins of a military training post. Everything was in chaos, everyone was in panic. We never thought we would have to prepare ourselves for this; our planet has lived in peace for centuries.

I found a Quafe warehouse that seemed relatively intact and I rushed in, losing myself in the crowd that was doing the same. Once I got inside I headed to my right, out of the way of the incoming crowd, trying to find a place to breathe some cleaner air. I saw in the centre that some military personnel from the now demolished training camp had brought with them a mobile shield generator. It seemed that for a while at least, we were safe.

Once the military had completed their setup, they went about trying to fix the video screens to try to get a mayday broadcast out and hopefully receive some news of who or what was attacking.
“I’ve got a signal!” yelled one of the mechanics from across the hall. At once a dozen officers converged on him, talking to him and amongst themselves. One of them prepared to make a speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention! We have currently erected a mobile shield generator. It should keep us safe for approximately five hours with our current battery reserves. We have also managed to fix a video screen well enough to receive, but we cannot yet broadcast a signal. Rest assured we are doing the best we can, and we hope-“.
He was cut off by a high pitched squeal from the video screen and then a transmission coming in, as clear as day, or at least, as clear as day was before the attack.
“Fellow citizens. I am Paola Zatrann, representative of CONCORD to this planet. Just recently we were attacked by unknown assailants in multiple locations around the planet, including station Alpha, the location of the High Court. Only a few have delegates from the station have successfully made it out. The station was completely obliterated. I am placing the planet under CONCORD jurisdiction and we will-“. The signal cut out and was replaced by a much more terrifying one.

A man stood on the screen. Scarred and clearly a veteran of many a conflict, he had the eyes, the face, and the voice of one that has experienced, and bee a party to, the enslavement of worlds, and he clearly enjoyed his work.
“Good morning our poor defenceless victims, I trust that those of you who are still alive are well minus an arm or two. My name is Trelek, and we, dear friends, are capsuleers, and damn fine ones at that. Your measly defences have been swept away, leaving you no means of forcing us back. We plan to pillage and mine your planet dry, stripping it of every resource that has any remote value. This of course, is not likely to be in line with your plans for the planet, but make no mistake, if you fight us, things will only get worse, let me assure you. I politely request that you surrender, fully and unconditionally, control of the planet to us, and then maybe we’ll consider not cleansing it.”
The screen split into two halves, one with the capsuleers and one with Emissary Zatrann. Clearly they were on a direct line that was also being broadcast live across the planet.
“What right have you to do this? This planet is under CONCORD jurisdiction under my order! I have called for reinforcements and-“
Trelek interjected.
“Darling child, you have absolutely no right here. CONCORD has lifted their ban, sooner than I thought they had planned too. Quite a timesaver. They will not be coming. We are here first, and this planet is ours. Please, Enjoy your stay,” Trelek’s gleeful face turned to one of brutality, “as short lived as it may be.”
The capsuleer’s side of the screen went dead, and Paola was left looking down in defeat. She raised her face and delivered an improvised speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen. They are correct. Moments before the capsuleer’s attack on Station Alpha, I received word from CONCORD High Command that the ban on capsuleer planetary interaction has been lifted.” She bowed her head. “CONCORD will not be coming. I am deeply sorry. I thought we had more time.” Paola signed off.

Act 3 – Aftermath

Paola’s entourage was visibly shaken from their tumultuous journey from the wreck of Station Alpha to a secure bunker in a province below the planet’s largest body of water, most of the people on there were a lot less fortunate. The reports that were coming to her were that the two largest cities had sustained major attacks, and their next three had minor attacks on them. Millions were dead. Millions more were injured. The planet was gripped by chaos and there was no-one coming to save them. Shortly after delivering her speech, Paola collapsed.

She woke up a few hours later. She was lying on a bed, feeling very dizzy. When she came around and became aware of her environment, she realised she was not on her own. An unfamiliar face was looking at her from the doorway.

“Ah, Ms Zatrann. I’m glad you have recovered. We are evacuating you immediately. Please come with me. There is a transport ready to take you back to Jolia where you will be safe with your father.”
“No, I cannot leave. This is my planet, I am responsible for it.”
“You can communicate with your people just as well from Jolia, where you will be safer. Now come with me. I’m not asking this time.”
“No! I-“
“Nurse, sedate this woman.”
“What? You can’t do this!” screamed Paola.
“Then come with me NOW!”
Paola sighed her sigh of defeat. She’d done that too many times recently. Her life was just happening and there was nothing she could do about it.
“I’ll come.”

As they exited the atmosphere, Paola looked out of the porthole of their armoured shuttle, witnessing a heavy battle between a small contingent of Megathron class warships that were engaged against the pirate capsuleers.
“They’re buying you time,” said her mysterious guardian as he was piloting the shuttle, wired in, “evidently your father wields some serious power. Brace for warp.”
Paola braced herself. Moments later the gate to Colelie appeared in the front viewscreen. They jumped.

As the ship went into warp towards the next gate, Paola’s pilot unstrapped himself from all the gadgets and gizmos that were required for manual piloting. He somewhat ungracefully stumbled through the door to the small cargohold and dropped onto one of the seats opposite Paola.
“Well, we’re on autopilot now, you should be to your father soon.”
“Who are you?” Paola, exhausted, asked, mumbling.
“Ah, of course, my apologies. I myself am a capsuleer.”
At that, Paola became wide-eyed and suddenly, full of an angry energy, leapt upon her pilot. She was put down quite quickly, but not before landing a decent punch on the man’s jaw. Holding her hands restrained, the man bent down to whisper into Paola’s ear.
“Now I’m going to forgive you for that and put it down to the circumstances. Before I let you go, I need you to know that I am on your side. I am not a pirate and I have, and never will, attack civilians. What happened to your planet is wrong. I want to fix that. I’m going to let you go now, but be sure that if you attack me again it’s lights out. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The man released her, and they both returned to their seats, Paola facing what she now believed to be her captor.
“Ok.” The man said, “I’ll start from the top. Yes, I am a capsuleer, and I want to help you. I am not the only one either. There are good people in this universe, and we want to help. There is a movement rising since the planetary interaction ban was lifted. We are not ready yet, but in one, maybe two years, we will be launching offensives on those pirates that are abusing this new interaction. They will grow complacent, they will be unprepared. We will be victorious. Let me make this clear, right now it is all just rumours, but one day it will be possible. It operates in secrecy and until the time is right, it will stay that way. It has a codename, a name for freedom and for retribution. Its codename: DUST 514.”

– by SN1P3R001

They promised me a place to live, food, and decent pay. They told me it would be a piece of cake. Walk off the ship, shoot a guy here, another there. Take lives. Kick ass. And if someone took my life, I’d just start over, another clone of a thousand. They promised me immortality. Some medical benefits they got around here. Well, it’s over now. I got my place to live, my food, my pay. I got my immortality. But I got more than that. They say war is Hell. I can tell you, Hell looks damn nice compared to what I went through. This is my story. A soldier’s story.

I was nineteen. Or that’s what they told me. I’d been stuck on this miserable planet my whole life. I lived off what I could find in the streets. Never knew my parents. My mother died when I was very young. My dad… I’m not sure what happened to him. Went off on a shuttle launch one day and never came back. I was left all alone. Forgotten.

Then CONCORD lifted the planetary prohibition. Then they came. There were businesspersons, miners, mercenaries, pirates, CEO’s. They all wanted one thing. Soldiers. Recruitment posters were slapped up on the side of every building, recruiters stood on shipping crates at nearly every street corner, offering benefits to all those souls who signed on with their corporation. I didn’t really understand it all at the time. I knew nothing of corporation life or why they wanted more soldiers. I figured they had enough already. For a time, I ignored most of them. They were in my way. I just wanted to go on with my life. Then I realized one day… I had no life.

After a few weeks, most of the recruiters had left. I knew, by now, one or two of the main ones left. I figured that the others had given up on this planet. The ones that were left appeared to be from rival corporations, each vying for control of several planets in the system. I decided, after a long sleepless night under a cold rainy sky, to sign on the dotted line. Become a soldier. I’ll never forget the face of the recruiter as I approached. He asked what a scrawny streetsucker like me wanted with his corporation. I told him, bluntly, that I wanted a life. If that meant fighting, then so be it. He handed me a sheet of paper and I stared at him dumbly. He showed me where to make my mark. I drew a shaky “x” on the line. He looked at me funny, then handed me a data chip and directed me to the spaceport.

A month later, I was trained. I had a gun, a uniform. I knew how to pull a trigger, pull a pin, drive a truck, take a life. Now I was sitting in the back of the transport with about twenty other soldiers, ready for deployment. The craft shook as it touched down. I could hear my squad leader barking orders. I blindly acknowledged him, committing my mission to memory. As the hatch opened, I followed my squad out of the ship. I hit the dirt running, following close behind the soldier in front of me. An explosion rocked the ground and I stumbled, but pushed forward until I was safe within a makeshift bunker. I huddled against the wall, squeezed between two other men. I looked around at the faces surrounding me. They were clean-shaven, hard, emotionless. Like mine. Our mission was to assault a mining facility just north of our position. The enemy was barraging the half kilometer of ground between here and there from orbit. After the explosions ceased, we knew we had fifteen minutes to reach the facility. That, we learned, was how long it took for the ships orbiting the planet to reload. Finally the noise outside subsided. And out we went.

It was a half click sprint for survival. I charged out of the bunker screaming with my squad. I didn’t have time to think. I let my instincts take over. I ducked and dove into crater after crater, taking cover wherever I could to avoid the small arms fire coming at me. I poked my head out from behind the ridge of the crater I was taking cover in, scanning the complex ahead of me, now just a hundred meters away. I looked over my shoulder for my squad leader. I shouted, asking for clearance to charge. He turned to look at me, a blank stare on his face, and fell forwards into the crater with me, blood squirting from a wound in his neck. I whipped around, looking for his killer. We were getting shredded. Of the ten men in my squad, I saw only four of us still alive. I pulled myself out of the crater and charged the complex in front of me. I yelled out in anger as I felt something tear into my arm, but whipped my rife around and watched as a guard dropped to his knees, dead. We succeeded in our mission and captured that mining facility. I killed 5 other men that day. I got promoted.

Two months later, I was standing in yet another bunker on another unknown planet. I looked around at my squad. The faces I know saw were no longer hard and emotionless. I saw no hard eyes, no excitement. I saw pain, fear. I saw tears of terror, tears of anger, tears of regret. I wondered what they saw in me. I had nothing to live for. I had no family to return to. I had no reason to be scared or angry or hurt. Today the mission was to raid a small town. We needed food and water badly. They were the priorities. Weapons and ammunition were second. No incoming fire this time. We marched out of the bunker and down the road. I told my squad to kill anything that moved. We were the top of the food chain here. Anything else took a back seat on survival. And besides, we didn’t know who the enemy was, where they had spies. I looked up at the sky, blood red as the sun rose over the horizon. It looked so familiar, yet so foreign. I sighed and continued my march until the skyline was broken by the buildings coming up out of the ground in front of us. As I walked down the street that ran through the center of the abandoned town, I realized why it looked so familiar. It was where I grew up. This was my home. I heard a noise behind me. I turned to see a man around my age pick himself up off the ground. He reached his hand out towards me. I pointed my rifle at him and put a few rounds through his head. I stared down at the ground where the blood pooled around him. It matched the color of the sky. I turned sharply and marched off down the street, calling for my team to search him.

The sun was going down now. We’d almost completed out search of the town. I banged on the door of a dwelling with the butt of my rifle. I head a faint noise inside. I barked at the occupant to open the door. I got no response, and I kicked the door in. I entered the dark building cautiously, and flicked on my flashlight. In the corner huddled a young woman and a child. I froze, paralyzed by a memory of my mother.

She was holding me close, looking up at a man in the doorway, terrified. And then he shot her. Her blood splattered on my face. I looked up at the man. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream. He aimed his pistol at me and pulled the trigger. Click. He muttered angrily, grabbed a handful of jewelry off the nightstand by the bed, and fled…

I snapped back into reality. I stared at this terrified woman and her child. I dropped to my knees and began to cry. I howled and wept until a member of my squad leaned in through the door. He asked me if I was alright. I nodded as I stood. I barked orders to the rest of my team to get back to camp. The soldier in the door looked at me, puzzled. I shoved him aside and joined the rest of my team in the street. I turned to the soldier in to door. “Shoot them,” I ordered. I closed my eyes and bowed my head, trying to block out the scream of terror that echoed through the empty town. The scream that was cut off by gunfire and choked with blood until the faint gurgling finally subsided. I rationalized the decision I’d made as I started down the road. They were better off dead. They both knew it. The look of terror on their faces was not from fear of death, I told myself, but fear of being left alive. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and continued the march down the road.

Four years later, our corporation shut down. They had no use for soldiers, so they gave me my pay, put me on a freighter, and shipped me off to a peaceful planet somewhere. And here I live. I’m still haunted by the choices I’ve made. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night, huddled in the corner of my room, head resting on my knees. Sometimes I walk down the street and I can smell the blood of the people I’ve murdered. Blood shed because of greed. Because some CEO decided he needed more ships, more guns, more ammunition. More weapons of war to destroy more lives. I wonder sometimes whether those CEO’s ever have shed the blood. I bet not. Not like I have. Not up close and personal. It’s one thing when you destroy a ship, turn it back into the scraps of metal from which it was born. But human life… That’s another thing entirely. I know for a fact none of the people in my town, the people I killed with my very own hands, I know none of them ever got a second chance like all those pilots in their shiny pods filled with goo or those rich businesspersons and pirates with their clones. Those from my poor town never had that luxury. They had one life. And I took them. It started with five. Five on the first day. Two on the next. By the time I was done, I’d taken over three hundred. In my head, three hundred people who worked hard to survive, who had purpose and meaning, were weighed against a billion worthless scrawny streetsuckers.

I ponder my promise of immortality as I put the pistol to my temple. I wonder if my clone will share all my memories or if those many lives I’ve ended will be forgotten…

– by Ryan Darkwolf

They shine….so brightly sometimes that it’s painful to watch. Night after night you can see the jets screaming into space.  Not that we can really see space anymore…too many lights block it out…how I miss those stars…..

The beginning of the end

In the beginning, all was peaceful.  My family lived on the outskirts of un-policed space, far from the terrible clashes of the Northern and Southern Coalitions; far from the ever raging Factional War between the four great empires.  We had all we needed on our planet; food, water, shelter, even entertainment through GalNet. We thought that by getting away from it all and building a colony out here we would be safe from Capsuleers and the ever increasing demand for people to work in mines or on station. Not that I didn’t like space, but I didn’t want to get caught in the hull of an exploding battleship any time soon.

Life was hard, I’ll give you that. We had few drones to help with the work, but everyone did their share and our colony prospered. As Alliances came and fell by sabotage in space, we happily went about our lives, untouched by Capsuleer politics. Sure it was entertaining to watch these events on the Holo…but I never thought that we could be affected by anything short of some kind of natural disaster….Man was I wrong.

Turns out CONCORD decided it was time to allow Capsuleers to express their powers how they saw fit. They lifted the centuries old ban on planetary conquest that had only previously been given to the respective empires. At first we didn’t pay much attention; who would want a planet so far out here? We knew that some alliance had sovereignty of our space, but they were always out fighting some group or whatnot…never once had they paid any attention to us.

That changed….it took time, but eventually Capsuleers came to realize that planets like ours, planets with little civilization or industry had the best resources.  A few months after CONCORD made their announcement, half the planets in Hi-security space had already been stripped clean, and we knew in time that the Capsuleers would be coming to us as well. And they did.

You see, since we had little industry, the night sky was always incredibly clear. Every once in a while you would see a small fast moving twinkle, some different colored beams and small explosions. On the rare occasion, giant behemoths would block out a section of the sky and incredible fights would take place. Most of the debris would end up being burnt up upon entering the atmosphere so we were never too worried about getting hit by destroyed ship parts. Well, that night there were no starts shining.

The ships we were watching were incredible….so massive that they looked like stations back in empire space. And then they fell…or at least that’s what it looked like. Massive blocks fell off the ships and fell towards the planet. We didn’t know what they were doing or if they were actually being aimed and finally they came to rest somewhere on the planet. Well, saying they came to rest is putting things incredibly lightly. They landed with enough force to break the glass in our homes and vehicles…enough to knock down trees that had been growing on this planet for centuries before we had even shown up. The sound it made was felt not just heard. No one was injured but somehow most of our vehicles were taken out of commission.

It was a few days ride on one of the least damaged vehicles before we reached whatever had landed. It was incredibly huge. It looked as if an entire city had landed and it was already billowing massive amounts of smoke into the atmosphere. It looked like it employed drones to create paths through the trees, and they laid down massive pipes that lead to what looked like a rocket strapped container. We sent people out following the different paths and what was reported was enough to make anyone sick.

They were eating the planet. One team died as they neared the end of one of the pipes. Attached to this pipe was a machine that was sucking the oxygen from the air. This huge contraption was somehow creating a vacuum and sucking the oxygen nearby. Two or our team had lost consciousness before anyone realized why everyone felt a little high from lack of oxygen. The other pipes lead to some machine that was eating away at the earth and the last lead into the ocean. All we knew was that our planet’s time had finally come.

It wasn’t until a few weeks had gone by that it really began. Massive fights above our planet. It seemed that the Alliance that lived here wasn’t the only group after the resources. As we watched from our homes, now bunkers, laser fire, missiles and plasma was being passed between these massive ships. It went on for hours and finally one group was victorious. We thought it was the alliance…. we were wrong. The winning force also dropped a Command Center on the planet, and we watched in silence as more of our planet was stripped from us.

Months have gone by; here I sit with a pulse rifle and armor, paid for by the original Alliance that had placed their Command Center on the planet, apparently they only wanted to plant one on the planet and take minimal amounts of resources; a likely story….yet I’m not the same man I used to be, and neither is my home. More Capsuleers have come and left their mark on this planet. So many in fact that most have left due to lack of resources…yet their processing plants and Command Centers are still here and active. This planet has lost its beauty. It’s nothing more than a ball of dust…but you know what…it’s my ball of dust, and if I have to fight to get my stars back, I will.