– by Sinclair Ferguson

It was only by great concentration that Orwell Fine repressed his glands’ inclination to call his bluff before the world by dotting his forehead with beads of sweat. The fluorescent, almost neon glow of the cameras’ supplemental light lent no heat to his place behind the senatorial podium. Perspiration would mean only one thing: his words were less than sincere. Still, Senator Fine had stood behind this same podium on a number of occasions, and his experience and practice had taught him to mask himself well.

“Like my father before me, I will persist with upholding the will of the people who’ve repeatedly promoted me to this post. We will continue to insist that our sovereignty be recognized, and that the people of Eruka V are not merely a workforce to be recruited, but a free people, destined to write its own future, not subject to the whims and fiscal quotas of mega-corporations who through their political wooing, can bend the ear of CONCORD. We will continue the fight. Thank you.”

Concluding his statements, he abruptly turned, his entourage following him. The cameras rotated from their focus on the podium to their respective commentators who began to offer narrative on the senator’s remarks. Senator Fine absently dragged his thumb across the left side of his forehead. It was still dry. His secretary leaned into him as he turned the hallway corner to the double doors of his office, and said, “You have a visitor.” “I’m sure,” he replied, as the double doors were parted for him by eager staff.

His office was plush. Kobalt blue carpet spread like the sea to the edges of the curved walls, lined with fine wood, dyed white. Behind the large desk at the end of the room stood a wide window, flanked by tall drapes, edged in gold lining, a breathtaking view of the senatorial lawn behind it. The view was occluded by the silhouette of a man, looking out the window. Orwell turned to the staffer who’d followed him in. The man immediately recognized this as an indication to leave the room and exited, closing the doors behind him. As the latch engaged on the door, the figure by the window turned. “That was quite a speech, Senator. You’re getting better at them, I think. I was almost sympathetic.” “Mr. Trinnix, it is customary to make appointments with with Senate. We are very busy these days,” Orwell remarked, stepping behind his desk, taking his place in his own ornate but comfortable chair. “Won’t you have a seat?”

“Thank you, Senator.” The man descended into one of the leather chairs opposite the official desk, and leaned back. “My corporation was expecting a more generous and expedient schedule. We’ve demonstrated the courtesy of working with you, showing good faith. CONCORD has given us a clearance that doesn’t exactly require such formalities. We would have thought you would have responded differently.” The Senator’s chair rotated back and forth slowly as he listened, his fingers pressed together before him. “Mr. Trinnix, I…” “Just Trinnix,” the guest interrupted with less than sympathetic correction. Orwell noted the posturing and continued. “Trinnix, it takes time to soften such an independent people. If they had any inkling you were even planetside, they’d dismember both our bodies on the capitol steps.” The guest’s eyes were steady. “I’ve been dismembered many times,” Trinnix replied, a grin playing upon his face. “Ah yes,” Orwell returned, “your immortality. A thousand rebirths amongst the stars. Your little 600,000 member oligarchy. And we all have to play the good and faithful subject, we poor mortals.” The Senator has frequently used sarcasm to mask fear or awkwardness. He was doing his best to project confidence, but he wanted little more than for this zombie to leave his office. “I’m trying to broker a situation that will guarantee your corporation’s initial unfettered access to Eruka’s resources and to its skilled labor. You know I have to continue to masquerade until I have courted the unions, put in place the propaganda that will convince the public that your molestation of their planet is in their best interests. Your insistence on a stepped up timeline is making this very difficult.”

“Senator Fine, we have no intention of delaying our plans, with or without your help. Do you think we’re ignorant to your other dealings, to your maneuvering to delay our progress? We know you’re in bed with Hyasyoda.” Trinnix was attempting to trump the Senator’s sarcasm, and by the look on his face, it was working. “They’ve been a major shadow contributor to your campaigns over the last 25 years, and in return you’ve given them mining contract after contract, unregulated and unmonitored. They’ve practically assassinated the reputation your opposition in elections going back a decade. Your love affair with the press, your influence amongst the member planets of the Eruka system, and your prominence in this constellation will come to ruin if you take one more step to suppress our right to immediately develop this planet any further.”

Orwell broke this gaze with Trinnix. His lips pursed, his nostils opened as he inhaled deeply. For years, he’d sat behind this desk while his father was in chambers, pretending the seat was his, pretending his power was limitless. His father, a highly successful and popular politician, practically secured Orwell’s ascension to the seat when he died 4 months after the beginning of his 3rd term. He was practically appointed to the office, and riding the wave of well-wishers and political capital, proceeded to secure seats on the most prominent of committees. He was the darling of the lobby circuit. In return for his support, he’d secured great wealth and influence. He could have spent that capital and influence in back-room opposition to CONCORDs treaty, to preserving Eruka V’s bounty for its inhabitants. He instead chose to peddle them to the highest bidder, to welcome in corporations with the intent of trading his planet for even greater power. Now, it appeared that he was losing his leverage, and for the first time in his political career, losing the ability to control the situation.

“You know, Trinnix. Eruka is not without it’s problems. CONCORD’s grasp here is not such that the safety of your operations here can be fully guaranteed. I want what’s best for my people.” He leaned forward on his desk, his gaze sympathetic. “And, I want what’s best for your corporation. We have a great opportunity to build something great, something in all our interests. I would hate it if this system’s underbelly did anything to jeopardize that.” He was playing his last card. It wasn’t exactly a bluff, but it was close. “Piracy has been a real problem in the lower security systems of The Forge for years. We’ve made great strides in securing safe commerce for our member planets and systems through negotiation, and yes, through a bit of racketeering. Unpleasant, I know. I want you to rest assured that I’m going to be working very hard in the coming weeks to secure agreements from the pirate entities here that nothing will happen to your dear freighter fleets. It will take some time, though, and not a little ISK. I know I have your support on this, yes?”

Trinnix’s shifted in his chair, pausing for several moments before speaking. “Senator Fine, space has taught me many things, the hardest of which has been patience. Please keep me apprised as to your progress. We’re looking forward to beginning operations here soon, Senator. Soon.” Orwell stood, his guest with him. He extended a hand to Trinnix, which was taken. “Soon enough, Mr. Trinnix. I think you and I can expect great things.”

– by Derek Michael Barnes

“Hey, galtis!”

She heard the voice that was calling her, but didn’t answer. Kani and his lackeys put her through this every day, and reacting never ended well.

“Hey!” This time he was right in her ear. “Are you deaf, galtis? I’m talking to you!”

“Maybe she can’t hear you because she has a brain disease.”

She remained silent. Of course, she would rather not have had to deal with them at all; but there wasn’t really anywhere else to go on a moving tram, and they would just follow her anyway. She tried to focus on the workpad in front of her and drill into her head that the letters she was staring at were substitutes for numbers.

Then she realized the workpad was no longer there. She glanced up and saw Neima messing around with it.

“Basic algebra?” he said, tossing it back at her. “You really are stupid.”

She finally caved. “What do you want?”

“How about that seat you’re in?” answered Kani. “Those are for Caldari only.”

She did her best not to glare at him. “Fine. This is my stop anyway.”

“The juvatory is five stops from here, idiot.”

“I’m not going to the juve. I’m going to work.”

“You have a job?” Neima made a point of feigning disbelief. “Who the hell would hire you?”

“I hear prostitutes are in short supply,” said Kani.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry; did I hurt your feelings?” Kani was now grinning. “Not that I expect any different from someone without a spine.”

She didn’t respond. He had won and he knew it. She strapped her pack on, got out of her seat and made for the exit as the tram came to a halt.

“See you back home, galtis!”

“My name,” she muttered as she entered the station, “is Ranaan.”

-*-

She worked as a junior-grade inspector in the city’s main factory, examining machines for signs of wear or damage, then reporting what she found. In other words, she basically stayed out of the way. It was always too hot in the factory, and it reeked of sweat and synth oil. Still, for a girl age thirteen it wasn’t a bad job, and certainly better than having to endure the incessant taunting of her peers.

She made her way across the metal catwalks, doing one routine check after another. Quickly yet carefully she looked over the equipment, taking notes as she went along. It was like any other day at the factory, except for one thing: the operators, who normally kept to themselves, were freely conversing with one another over the din of the machines.

“I guarantee you, Infinity Systems is getting the contract,” one was saying. “They’ll start construction in a matter of weeks, if not sooner.”

“Other corporations have prospects here, too,” said another. “Any one of them could get the deal.”

“Infinity has twice the investments of anyone else in the sector. Not to mention they’ll be backed by Lai Dai, politically and financially. No other pilot corp can compete with that.”

“What does it matter which corp gets the contract?” said a third operator, clearly exasperated by the whole thing. “For us it ends the same way: all the jobs go somewhere else. We’ll be lucky if this factory is still running by the end of the year.”

Her curiosity broke her silence. “What the hell are you all talking about?!”

“You didn’t hear, kid?” answered the first. “Concord is lifting its ban on planetary industry. Soon capsule pilots all over New Eden will be opening production lines on every planet they can get their hands on, including ours.”

“And raiding our incomes in the process,” added the third.

“You don’t know that-”

“Don’t I? Mark my words, if they don’t run us out of business, they’ll buy us out. You think this city is bad now? Wait until unemployment starts skyrocketing-”

“Pipe down, guys,” said the second. “The supervisor’s coming our way…and there’s someone in an Infinity shirt with her.”

That was interesting. Ranaan finished her inspection, then moved to the next machine to better listen to what was happening.

“…Lai Dai’s standard of quality is the model for our business,” the supervisor was saying. “Our equipment may not be top of the line, but we keep it well maintained to ensure our products are of the highest caliber. Our mechanics keep everything operating to par, and our inspectors make sure it stays that way…Inodi!”

Ranaan looked up. The supervisor always called her on a last-name basis.

“Any problems?” The question may as well have been read from a script.

“Not so far,” she replied. “Some low-priority maintenance, but nothing serious.”

“Deputy, this is Ranaan Inodi, one of our junior inspectors. Inodi, this is Jasen Soita, deputy director of human resources for Infinity Systems.”

“It’s good to know you, sir.”

“Suuda,” the deputy replied. “How long have you been working here?”

“Seven months. I got the job by chance.”

“And do you still go to school?”

“Yes, sir. I’m studying to be an engineer.”

He pressed further. “Is it difficult balancing work and studies?”

“It’s…challenging.” She kept working at a steady pace, making sure not to look away completely. “But being in the workforce has actually helped me do better in school; it gives me something to look forward to.”

He was about to say something else, but was cut short by a sudden bang. A pipe had burst overhead, and vaporized coolant was jetting out of the fissure.

“Vaisska! Excuse me…”

She ran up the nearest ladder, hit the emergency shutoff valve, then scrambled across the ceiling beams supporting the various pipes and cables. She assessed the damage; it was the same worn-out pipe she had found several weeks beforehand.

She sighed in frustration as she began removing the ruptured piece. “I told maintenance to replace this pipe; ‘the pipes are showing their age,’ I said, ‘they need attention.’ Did they listen? No…”

Soita was still watching from below. “A little hot-headed, isn’t she?” he asked.

“More than a little.” The supervisor smiled mirthfully. “I like to think she gets it from me.”

He continued to stare up at her. “…I couldn’t help but notice her hair.”

“She’s half Gallentean by blood. Gets a lot of flak for it, even more so since the war started…but I think that’s what drives her to do well.”

“Interesting…” As he and the supervisor moved on down the factory floor, he typed a quick message on his workpad.

Contact me when you get this. We may want to consider a new approach.

-*-

The next morning Ranaan was roused awake to be told that someone from Infinity Systems was waiting outside for her. Having no idea what was going on, she obliged and prepared herself to leave. On her way out Kani got an early start and accused her of high treason. On arriving outside the juvatory gates, she learned she would be traveling by air, making the situation all the more unusual. She did her best to calm her nerves, and told herself that chances were whatever was going on couldn’t be any worse than another day in school.

Half an hour later, the pilot told her they were reaching their destination. Ranaan had a look out the windshield, and her eyes met with a colossal machine hovering in midair above them, covered in giant rotors glowing red with heat. The ground below had been liquified to a circle of boiling lava.

The pilot saw her amazed expression, and smiled at her. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked her over the roar of the jets.

“What is it?”

“Think of it like a giant blowtorch. Burns away organic matter, melts the rock down to fifty meters. We add an extra compound or two, and at the end of the day it makes a perfect cement foundation.”

“That area must be twenty-five kilometers in radius! What the hell is your corporation building?!”

“The future, kid!” He was beaming now. “The future of the State!”

Her disposition had changed to deep thought. She had the sneaking feeling fate was somehow involving her in all of this.

-*-

Shortly thereafter she found herself in front of the door to an office, in a mobile operations facility ten kilometers away from the oversized construction site. In the most unsurprising twist of the day, the name on the door read Jasen Soita.

“Please present identification,” came a metallic-sounding voice from nowhere in particular. Ranaan moved her hair away in front of the scanner on the door, every iota of information on her being instantly processed from the invisible data matrix printed above her brow.

“Identification, ‘Ranaan Inodi,’ accepted.”

The door slid open, and sitting behind a desk in immediate view was Soita, his eyes piercing a hole through the space between him and her.

“Enter, Inodi.” His voice was cold.

She walked inside the room, the door shutting behind her.

A stool emerged from the upholstered floor. “Sit down.”

Ranaan sat. She was starting to feel uneasy.

“We never got to finish our conversation yesterday,” Soita continued. “So let me pick up where I left off. You’ve been an orphan all your life, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered quietly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know where this was going.

“Were you ever told why?”

“…Yes.”

“An unusual case,” he said nonchalantly. “Half Deteis, half Gallentean…it’s not exactly a frequent occurrence.”

Ranaan sat still as a stone. Now she was getting angry.

“I imagine it’s made life difficult for you, yes?”

Her muscles were getting tense, but still she remained silent. He continued to push her. “It certainly shows in your records,” he said as he accessed her profile on his monitor. “Poor academic performance…difficulty holding a job…antisocial behavior…”

She was set on edge now; it felt like every nerve in her body was lit. It was all she could do not to grip the hem of her jumper until her hands bled.

“Of course,” Soita noted as he leaned back in his leather chair, “I suppose such a state of affairs is to be expected given your situation-”

“What does it matter?” She finally snapped. “Why does it matter so damn much where I came from or what my history is? Why are you interrogating me – what the hell am I doing here?!”

“I suggest you cool your head-‘

“No!” Ranaan bolted upright from her seat. “I’ve been putting up with this crap for as long as I can remember, and it’s stopping right now!” She started pacing the room in her fervor. “All my life I’ve been called a delinquent, dysfunctional ‘problem child’ – useless dross sabotaging the Caldari machine. And why? Because I’m half Gallentean; nothing more. Do you think I asked the gods to curse me with wavy crimson hair so everyone could see at a glance what I am?!” She turned back to face Soita, blazing with the collective rage that she’d tried so hard to contain, and thrust her outstretched hand at the window behind her. “No one else out there has ever had their loyalty called into question. They’re born Caldari and that’s the end of it. I have to earn that basic respect; I have to prove myself to every person I meet. But I don’t care what I have to do or how long it takes: I will show all of New Eden that I’m a true Caldari, and that nothing – nothing – will ever change that!”

The seconds ticked by in empty silence. She stood motionless, exhausted from her tirade. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and re-centered herself.

And when her eyes opened again, she saw that Soita was smiling.

“That is exactly what I was hoping you would say.” He rose from his desk. “You should be proud of yourself, Inodi, because today all your hard work is going to be rewarded.”

She blinked in confusion. “I…don’t understand…”

Soita chuckled. “I’ll explain everything. Let me show you what we’re working on…” He indicated the window, which had a clear view of the construction.

An image flickered to life across the glass, as the purpose of the lava pit was slowly revealed. “This is the site chosen for Infinity City, soon to be the core of our planetary industry. As the name implies, the project is massive. The outer ring you see,” he said as renderings of structures came into view, “is a megafactory for the manufacture of ships and their components; the viaduct arcing across it is for transit of resources, with the command center towering above. The inner crescent houses an industrial-size spaceport for the fleets we produce. And the final element: a shining metropolis, the epitome of Caldari achievements on full display.”

The final image was unbelievable; a whole megacity stood before her in impossibly realistic glory.

“Am I wrong in saying it looks like a giant Lai Dai logo?”

“Marketing,” he replied. “But of course, such an undertaking as this requires immense amounts of manpower. That’s why I’ve been touring the district, visiting businesses to find local people worthy of helping this dream be realized. And you, Inodi,” he said to her, “are more than qualified.”

She looked over at him. “Is that what my profile says? Or did you forget?”

“I didn’t mention the good points. Solid worker, skilled mechanic, unrelenting ambition – all qualities that we seek in an employee. The rest is inconsequential in comparison.” He typed a command on his monitor, and new material was displayed on the window pane. “You would have everything to gain: better pay, medical benefits, in-facility housing provided by the company, and an academic regimen designed and built by the School of Applied Knowledge. All within your reach.”

Ranaan was stunned. An hour ago she was nothing but an orphan with a bad track record. And now she was being given the opportunity of a lifetime.

“There’s a catch, right?”

He smiled again, this time with a touch of irony. “Not exactly. Do understand I wouldn’t be offering this if you weren’t qualified. But there is…an extra benefit the corporation gets with you as its employee.”

“I’m listening.”

Soita left his desk, moving to approach the place where she was standing. “The war and political shifts of the past year have left a negative impact on the perception of the State. Our media department has been working in tandem with Lai Dai to try and produce a more positive image, especially among Federation citizens. Your mixed heritage puts you in a unique position – someone that Gallenteans can psychologically relate to.”

He walked closer to her. “Think about it for a minute. A half Gallentean girl growing up in the State; orphaned by her parents, rejected by her peers, given absolutely nothing. Yet by sheer force of will and the drive to achieve, she is making a life for herself, defying all the forces that have tried to bring her down. It’s the ultimate success story…and the perfect argument against the Federation’s view of us.”

Us. The word resonated in her head: us, her plus Caldari, among Caldari, as Caldari. She let the word echo through her mind, reaching across its darkest shadows and coming back even more beautiful than it was before. Us.

It was the first time anyone had shown her that kind of recognition.

Soita stood face to face with her now. “Ranaan…you said you wanted of all of New Eden to see your true colors.” He looked her right in the eyes. “This is your chance.”

Another silence followed as Ranaan thought it all over. She thought about everything he had told her, about her life in the dying city she called home, about the future, about every event that had led her to the point where she was now.

She looked back up at Soita.

And she couldn’t think of any reason to say no.

– by Atern E’Ruz

***DATA LOST***

***iner but no disart. not fare.

05.32.23341

momy sais we hafe to move. momy sais i cant go to skool bicuse the ski pepel are may king a faktorie ware the skool is. I dont no ware we are moveing to. i hop lexan moves to. lexan is my bast frend.

05.34.23341

the ship is big. it ha***

***DATA LOST***

***ver I get my own speeder.

02.04.23347

Why do they even call it high school? Why not just “Job Fair?” Back home the only thing that even looked like a corporation was the Farmer’s Market. Now that the entire place is one big factory, along with everywhere else in the region, it’s like there’s no real education anymore, just “Oh, that guy is good with poetry? Who cares, here’s some ore to be reprocessed.” I know, I know…factories keep the worlds spinning, the ships flying, etc., etc. Don’t they have enough people to do that already?

02.07.23347

I got my essay back. I lost marks because I, and I quote, “failed to correctly add enough corporate loyalt***

***DATA LOST***

***pending on where I’m accepted. I still have my final exams to worry about, but after that I’ll be off this rock, and hopefully able to settle somewhere that doesn’t look like a giant warehouse.

11.14.23351

POWER GRID ANALYST??!? Oh, if Mom could have seen this. How can they possibly think that I’d be good at, or even WANT to be a Power Grid Analyst? Being in a factory all day, staring at bars and numbers, making sure everything is “within parameters?” It’s just a placement though, right? I mean, I don’t have to do it, it’s just what they feel I’m best suited for. Right? Right?!? What choice do I have though? Either make my lousy excuse for a school recruiter happy by signing away the next 75 years of my life to whichever corporation has paid him more this month, or facing the general embargo on planets that refuse industrial takeover… I might look good in a white coat and clipboard…

11.18.23351

My shuttle to the factory power generation center leaves in two hours, and I can’t fin***

***DATA LOST***

***ething other than Quafe Ultra…

07.01.23353

LEXAN!!! I couldn’t believe it when she stepped off the transport! I almost didn’t recognize her at first, but when she scanned in…LEXAN!!! What has it been, ten years? Twelve? What are the chances of us meeting like this again? I’m good with numbers, but I couldn’t do the math on the odds! Who cares? She’s here! We’re going to the cafeteria after my shift, she doesn’t start until next week. I wish I could take her to somewhere that serves real food, but even the ca***

***DATA LOST***

***hree days, and I couldn’t be happier! I’ve saved up everything for the ceremony, and used BOTH my days off for our honeymoon. This will last forever!

12.15.23357

Back from our honeymoon in the recreation center! I still can’t believe the guys from engineering managed to smuggle a real cake in for the reception! Right past the Overseer too! Lexan and I feasted on that cake our entire vacation! It feels so odd going back to work after two days off. I wonder if they all still remember my name there! I heard something before I left about another corporation thinking of buying us out…I wonder if I’ll get another two days of vacation if that happens? The las***

***DATA LOST***

***alks with the other CEO. Everyone is saying that they’ll reach a deal soon though. It’s all this back and forth negotiations that are driving me crazy. Just pick a logo, stick it on the side of the building, and be done with it!

06.10.23358

I heard from Khalfen in Accounting that the negotiations with the other CEO aren’t going so well. Maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, if nothing changes, then nothing changes. If this new corporation takes over and decides to move people around, or even replace them…no. I can’t think of that. Lexan and I come as a team. Even Capsuleers have hearts…wait. Do they?

06.16.23358

See? What was I worried about? The other CEO left, everything is back to normal here, and Lexan and I are still side by side every day and every night. Khalfen didn’t get too many details about the negotiations, but from what he heard our CEO didn’t like how the numbers added up. Always with the numbers.

06.19.23358

They need to hire better maintenance crews. Nobody can sleep because the defense sirens are going off every few hours. It’s not a problem with the power grid, so I figure one of the outposts has an elecrti***

***DATA LOST***

***ds us to work. Although it’s a little hard to concentrate when everyone is in a constant state of fear.

06.28.23358

Two more of the reprocessing plants were destroyed today. That makes fifteen buildings now? It’s hard to keep track. “No time for mourning,” as the billboards say. At least we’re in a high security area. I’d hate to think of Lexan and I being in reprocessing or storage. She’s pretty shaken up about all this, Lexan is. She has…had a few friends in Storage Facility 3-29. They still haven’t been able to get a list of survivors yet, but I don’t expect any good news. I keep telling her that after this is all over and everything is safe again, we can think about starting a family. That would be good for us. Mom did the best she could with me, but we’d do even better! Maybe even apply for the management pre-school program so that our child would never even see the inside of a factory. I’ll see what Lexan thinks.

06.30.23358

I told the Overseer that as long as we keep diverting power from the non-essential systems, the shielding should hold aroun***

***DATA LOST***

***r calculate that much. I didn’t think it was possible. Lexan is scared. So am I.

07.08.23358

There’s only enough power left for a few days. The fuel ships have been blockaded, or destroyed, and most of the reserves have already been blown sky-high. I can’t help thinking that if this all doesn’t get resolved soon, we won’t be ab***

***DATA LOST***

***ays since they took Lexan to medical. Since she’s in operations, she should get decent treatment. They won’t let me see her, since they still need someone to run the po***

***DATA LOST***

***ng to come home tomorrow. That is, if we survive that long. The CEO still insists on fighting instead of sitting down and talking it out. Doesn’t he know that we don’t have clones? I guess mortality is hard to grasp when you never ac***

***DATA LOST***

***he medical bay. There’s no word if she had been released whe***

***DATA LOST***

***e’ll come home. She’ll come home. She’ll come home. She’ll c***

***DATA LOST***

***ire life has been ruined due to some stupid CEO deciding that it’s m***

***DATA LOST***

***verheat the grid when they land. It’s the only chance I have for reven***

***DATA LOST***

***nly fifty kilometers away from the surface, and they’re still shootin_

***PLEASE SAVE ENTRY AFTER EDITING, AS DATA LOSS MAY OCCUR***

– by Gnicklas

Nearly a year has passed since the CONCORD opened our skies with the promise of a newfound prosperity for all the Empire through a cooperation with the Capsuleers. How ironic then, that the very pilots who have saved us from the incursions of the Sani Sabik cultists would themselves become our oppressors.

—

When the first factories opened many answered the call with the promises of ISK and adventure. Training and an opportunity to see the stars, who knew what could lie in your future when dealing with Capsuleers?

The corporations operating the facilities near the city expanded their factories and with them their search for able and qualified workers. One of which was Shali Hanulan, my neightbor and only friend in the city since relocating to the capital for my work with the Ministry of Internal Order. I found her unit empty after returning from work one afternoon and a message on the house array saying she had moved to the new residential facility at the HINCO complex, one of the corporations that had scouted my offices a few weeks earlier.

Several days and then a week passed with no word from Shali so I decided to do some digging. Access to off-planet data services had been interrupted since shortly after the arrival of the capsuleers and had been accredited to damaged communication satellites in a recent well-documented Blood Raider attack. All information since had come from the Amarr Certified News and Ms. Meninri, though a beautiful and talented former Miss Amarria, did not run the most .. reputable news service.

I needed to get an outside source and luckily I had a friend in the Amarr Trade Registry…

An Interbus courier arrived shortly after I took my position at the MIO with a package marked as a general delivery without a return address. It contained a metallic disc with no distinct markings and after trying several scans with the diagnostic equipment available to me in the office it took up residence as a paperweight.

‘This is Mozat Kartan, please respond.’

My desk had spoken to me and began a mutually beneficial financial arrangement between me and the “Public Relations” official on the other end of the line. It felt like a story out of a holoreel! I provided information upon request on employees of the Imperium and she provided me with a beautiful view from the new apartment my meager salary wouldn’t afford me otherwise.

‘Mozat! This is Kerin Shappi, are you there?’ I asked the disc. I’d never tried talking to her so I wasn’t sure if it was able to tran–

‘Yes? What is it?’

After briefing her on my situation she seemed taken aback, ‘There’ve been no reports of Blood Raider activity or a communications outage in your system that I am aware of.’

She went further to say she had recently stopped receiving communications from several of her contacts in the more remote regions of the Empire and that she would look into it.

The next week the news service reported a terrorist attack in one of the outlying districts of the capital involving an unknown biological agent and a general quarantine was announced for all citizens not essential to the operation of the government. Though I consider my filing and sorting of reports on the activities of Imperial employees to be quite essential to my financial well-being, the Ministry saw it otherwise.

The quarantine restricted my access to the datanet to the ACN and MIO informational channels and stifled my culinary choices to brown paste or green paste from the severely outdated food synthesizer. At least the coffee wasn’t bad.

A new message arrived in my house array:

‘Notify. The Ministry of Internal Order quarantine remains in effect for all citizens. The unknown biological agent is under investigation and antiviral drugs distributed to the population. If you suspect yourself or others to be infected please contact the Ministry at once.Treatment squads are being dispatched to citizens in order of priority and severely affected citizens removed to treatment facilities donated by the visiting corporations. Please remain in your homes until further notice.’

Footsteps passed in the hall accompanied by a strange click of nails on the tiled flooring.

—

Mozat contacted me again with the results of her inquiries and she wasn’t most pleased with what she found, ‘It’s the capsuleers.’

‘What?’

‘There’ve been varying reports from planets around New Eden, some touting the capsuleers as Saviors and others, Tyrants.’

‘There were several large orders of antiviral drugs shipped to the Mishi IV – Ministry of Internal Order Logistic Support station a month before the attack on your planet occurred. This alone might mean anything, perhaps they had information beforehand and were preparing for any outcome. However I came across something.. unusual. The same corporation ordered a very large amount of Vitoc to be delivered to the same location.’

‘Vitoc? I don’t understand, we produce enough locally to meet all of our needs why would anyone need more? There’ve not been any large shipments of slaves lately and the capsuleers employ local citizens as part of the treaty negociated for us by the CONCORD assembly.’

‘Why purchase slaves, when a simple innoculation is all that’s required?’

—

The lights dimmed and my house array reported the connection to the planetary datanet had dropped, again. I waited in the dark for the screams, wondering if they wouldn’t be my own.

– by Xideinis

*As a note, I recently entered this story into Silver’s fan fiction contest. I feel that it has a better place in Roc’s contest as it deals with a moment from the life of a young child who has been thrown unwillingly into the middle of a massive, planet side conflict. I have revised a few words here and there but most of the story is the same as the original. Without further ado, I present to you The Child of Dust.*

A small child stands before the burning ruin of everything she had known and loved, the tanned skin of her cheeks glistening in the hellish glow of the fires of war as her tears burned a trail of grief down to her chin, only to fall into the dust and ashes of her beloved home. She was so alone, so lost, and, despite the blazing fires, so cold. These grim thoughts intensified her anguished sobs and she fell to her knees, unable to hold herself up anymore.

Above, the giant silhouette of a starship could just be made out in the night sky hovering just below the blanket of clouds marring the stars. The low humming of its engines was a constant reminder that war had indeed come to the world of Ostingele IV. Explosions blossomed along the ship’s hull as ground-to-air missiles impacted scattering large fragments of the ship across the battlefield and lighting up the dismal, war torn landscape.

In the far off distance, crackling gun shots and the impact of mortar shells could be heard, adding to the din of war. A small personnel ship full of fresh soldiers for the front line roared abruptly overhead. It had an escort of two fighter jets who fired a salvo of missiles at a distant enemy lighting up the horizon. The poor girl turned her head slowly and watched the glow evanesce back to darkness.

A shout and the sound of a purring motor sounded behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, face suddenly pale with fear. A company of soldiers was marching towards the front, a burly tank in their midst. Even in the darkness, she could see plumes of exhaust emanating from the rear of the tank. She could just make out the factional emblem in the dark which was painted on its side. They were Gallentean mercenaries by the looks of them. The good guys.

Slowly, the small girl stood and mustered all of her strength. Her short little legs were very unwilling, but slowly, she began to shuffle towards the column of soldiers. A dry breeze brushed her long dark hair from side to side as she walked with heavy footsteps. Her sobs were noticed by one soldier, a mere silhouette against the rest of the column.

“Get out of here, girl!” A deep voice shouted over the noise of the distant battles, “It’s not safe for you!”

The girl’s strength left her again and she stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. She could just make out the put-put-put of the soldier’s swift footsteps as he ran toward her. Before long, a strong hand grasped her upper arm and pulled her up sitting her easily upright in the soldier’s arms.

“There now,” the soldier said softly. The girl’s sobs subsided as the soldier reached into his back pocket. He held up some sweets and she took them, but did not eat.

“What is your name, young child?” The soldier inquired. The girl just stared. “A quiet one, eh?” The soldier asked, smiling tenderly. She looked into his green eyes framed by the chiseled features of his scarred face and found a sweetness that gave her a sense of security. “Well then,” the soldier started, “where are your parents?”

At the mention of her lost parents, the girl felt a fresh wave of silent tears coming on, and saying nothing, she buried her head into the soldier’s comforting shoulder.

“I see,” the soldier said solemnly patting a soothing hand on her small upper back.

Suddenly, there came a shout from the rest of the company. “Incoming!” A harsh female voice intoned loudly. The kind soldier swore under his breath and braced a firm hand on the girl’s back as he began to run towards a row of abandoned buildings. His, rifle which was slung across his back, clacked as he ran and the impact of bullets around the soldier’s feet made a sffp-sffp noise as he dashed toward a gaping hole in a towering sky scraper.

They entered the building unscathed as a hail of bullets occupied the area that the two had been in only seconds before. They waited together as the intense gunfire died down. The soldier, panting, looked at the girl.

“Are you harmed?” The soldier asked worriedly. The small girl just stared, tears momentarily stopped due to the terrifying excitement of almost being killed. He gave her another kind smile and set her down on a staircase adjacent from the bullet riddled hole that they had darted through.

“Stay here,” The soldier commanded over the clamor of gunfire. He unslung his rifle and turned back to the hole.

“No!” The tiny girl ran to the soldier and grabbed his muscular wrist, fresh tears streaming down her face, and began pulling him away from the danger which was his duty. He looked back at her, and smiled caringly. He allowed the girl to pull him back to the stairs where she sat clinging to his arm.

“I must go little one, and you must stay here. You will be safe. I will protect you,” the soldier said reassuringly. He pulled his wrist away and brushed the girl’s tear laden cheek with one thick finger. She hugged his neck and he chuckled, a little surprised at the girl’s attachment.

“And now, I must go,” he said, and rose brandishing his rifle. The girl hugged her knees as the soldier walked away. He reached the hole, resting one hand on its ruined surface. He paused to look back at her and smiled.

Suddenly, a spray of red erupted from the soldier’s head. A wet smack sounded as his blood splashed against the shattered wall. He fell and did not rise. The girl just stared, mouth completely agape as her mind attempted to register what had just happened. Upon realization, she couldn’t help herself. She screamed as she buried her head into her knees and wept as her whole world came crashing down around her.

– by Sciabada Nishiani

When she closes her eyes she could still smell the fragrance that the moist sea wind would carry to the shores of her home planet. Her memory of “That” day where still crystal-clear. All her childhood she had lived on the southern shores of the province of Arghun’T Anerr a daughter of a simple fisherman. Her mother had died giving birth to her little brother when she was Five.

She remembered the tales she was told as a child. Terrifying tales of demigods roaming the space between the stars, presumingly kidnapping children that wont obey their parents. Every night she gazed upon the stars and wondered if they really existed.

It was costume on her planet that once in a lifetime a citizen would undertake a pilgrimage and visit the temple of Karret A’Tnagar on the mountain of Kareen Shaled when they become Of Age. It was a trip organized by The Order who also took care of all education on her planet. The priests would screen the children and advise what direction they should take to fit the society’s needs. Aged 12 they would undertake the pilgrimage to the temple and visit the sanctuary within. It is there where all the scrolls, scripts and artifacts that spoke about those demigods where held. In the eyes of a child they all look strange and intimidating. But there is one that really leaves a mark: its a huge egg-shaped thing with lots of wires inside and a strange smell. The priests called it a Capsule. Every child that came Off Age spent a night with the priests at the temple and heard the story of a glorious race that came through a Portal to settle the universe. Gods for sure, she assumed as a child. Who else could fly among the stars. Only beings with wings could fly. So she figured that these gods surely where immensely big and had huge wings. She asked the priests to see pictures from those Gods. But all they could show her where strange designs she did not understand and that Capsule.

But as children are she did not give it any further thought once back to her daily routine. Enjoying the vast beaches of the southern shores she passed her time playing with her brother and friends, attending school and doing all those things children do. Only at night, when the stars where out on the sky her thoughts went back to the temple.

She had heard of nobody ever to have actually seen one of Them also simply because They did not interfere with the planets. They only protected them from other powerful
beings They called The Enemy. Therefore the planet-dwellers had to be grateful They where out there looking after them.

But all of this changed one sunny day when the sky suddenly turned dark. She was 16 and on the beach with her father helping fixing the nets when she saw a big dark something
covering the sun. It descended slowly upon them growing bigger and bigger. Out of its belly hundreds of smaller things emerged. Each taking a different direction and most of
them disappearing behind the horizon. One landed in a field close by and all villagers gathered around it. A door opened and a man dressed like the priests stepped out. He
looked at the gathered crowd and told them to go home as he had no business with them. More men stepped out. They looked different. Without neither visible face nor hands. As
nobody moved one rose his arm and a blue flash came out of it. The crowd panicked and dispersed in terror.

That day changed her life forever. They came in the evening to her house telling her father that their for fathers had chosen her and that she had the Gene. Chosen for what?
They put her in their air vehicle and left the planet.

For the first time she met Them. Or at least one of Them. After a flight that seemed to last an eternity they arrived at a space station where She was waiting for her. She sat in one of those capsules she had seen in the temple on her home-world. The strange smell was much stronger with Her than back there. She told her to follow carefully her tutorial. At the end she would be one of Them. She was chosen to become a Demi-God herself.

The training was hard and painful. The first time they put her into her capsule was the worst pain sheʼd ever felt. They gave her drugs to endure it better but they where not
strong enough. The pain was there non the less.

Soon they sent her out doing missions because she was good. Her specialty was electronic warfare they said and to that she was educated.

She had to admit, the fun was so much better than the stupid games with her friends back on the planet.

They sent her places she could not even imagine. She even saw the original Wormhole! Of course now she had access to all the knowledge of the Universe and by the Merciful
Sisters she sucked all of it into her brain via the links.

Soon she left the safety of her tutorial station and left out to make her own fortune becoming a mercenary. Big corporations where out there mining asteroids and harvesting moons and they always needed soldiers for their dirty jobs.

Her wealth grew but with it the need for more drugs and more wealth. Outlaw space was a tough place and only the best survived.

All was good until one day the big corporations discovered the wealth that lies within the planets. Greed is a poor host indeed.

The invasions began and she was called once again to do the only job she new: Killing!

She looked aside when corporations enslaved entire planets to their misdemeanor because the pay was good and the drugs even better.

She looked aside when soldiers killed men, women and children that stood in their way.

She looked aside when entire planets where destroyed by the strong mining beams.

Yesterday she did what she always does. Killing and looking aside.

Then suddenly she overheard a transmission. She heard that the mountain of Kareen Shaled held enormous treasures and she knew what that meant.

Kareen Shaled? Where had she heard that name before? Her drugged mind could not grasp the exact location of that memory on her brain.

And suddenly it hit her like a torpedo! Kareen Shaled! The sacred mountain on her planet!

No, no, no! That canʼt be! They should protect the planets! Not destroy them!

She had to do something! Too often had she seen how those operations went!

Inhabited planets where given to choose the life of miners or taken by force. Decent corporations fished the planet-dwellers with the promise of development and wealth, exploiting every man, woman and child. Those who refuse faced certain death.

Not to speak about the death and diseases the mining operations brought with them. The choice was a false one: either you choose for instant death or an agonizing one. Then there it was: Her home-planet. At the very center of a battle in the space surrounding it. The resources where extraordinarily rich she heard. In stealth mode she flew through the guarding ships. She wanted to see for herself what was going on on the surface.

What she saw was total destruction in most of the places. Foot-soldiers fighting to win ground. Her village was gone and so was her house. Hacking into the information network
she found out what cruelty her planet has been exposed to. The images where compelling and so was the smell that accompanied them. She found out that her brother had been fit
to ride the big mining drones (he had part of the Genetic Code after all).

But in a war even if youʼre only a miner in a drone you become enemy target if youʼre working for the wrong corporation.

Her father was too old and therefore useless to the corporations. He rebelled when they took her brother and they shot him.

Her brother was drugged and plugged into the mining drone. But he was still alive somewhere!

That was when she knew what had to be done!

She hacked a little deeper into the information network and located her brother and waited for the right moment. She locked a tractor beam on him and pulled him up in his drone.

One last thing she wanted to do before leaving the planet.

She flew over the wast ocean and aired the ventilation system of her ship sucking in the moist air from the surface.

The tingling of the moist air she felt on her skin was real!

The smell of the sea was strong this time!

For the first time in decades her brain was free of drugs and free of pain.

She took a deep breath of that moist air and listened deeply to the sound of the waves in her memories, ignoring completely the proximity warnings from her shipsʼ sensors while flying directly into the bright sun ahead that had illuminated her world when she still was a planet-dweller, long ago, in another life!

– by Ryo Mitsuki

Hello, my name is Tyrian and I live in New Eden. Much has changed since the Capsuleers arrived they have stopped at nothing to get what they want; the planets themselves. When we first found out about the Capsuleers coming to our planet, I remember my dad talking to my mom, asking her; “What will happen now when the Capsuleers take control of the planet?”

He paused briefly, “War! That’s all that will happen, more war and suffering.”
She replied quivering with fright, “When will it end?”
“It will never end. They’re immortal and are locked in an immortal war, a war over power and greed”, he replied.

He was right it will never end, the fighting will last forever. At first it was good and helped
the people on the planet out. We got an increase in trade and everyone was getting paid well, but then that’s when things took a turn for the worse. War came upon us and the entire planet became black with dust. Then there was a short time of peace during the war. We thought we could go and rebuild what was lost, but in the end, war descended back upon us and we fight for our right to live once more.

– by T’esshe

The boys ran through the dewy grass, and as they passed through it the water splashed on their legs and onto the ground and the grass sprang up straighter, so that when they looked behind them they could see the path they’d come. “You’re soaking!” One laughed out. “Yeah, you too!”, and they ran on.

They dried out on the riverbank afterwards and chewed nuts and listened to the gurgle of the water passing by. It was sunny.

“Hey, you need to help your dad this afternoon, right?” The other plucked out bits of shell and threw them into the water. “Yeah,” he said, “The wind’s coming from the east so the bugs’ll be in – for sure.”

“Want some help?”

“Yeah!” The father’s boy turned his head. “You wanna catch bugs all afternoon?” He smiled, laughing that such a thing might be attractive to someone.

“Sure, what am I going to do? Sit here by myself?”

“Great. Dad will appreciate the help too.”

They sat for a while longer, laughing and throwing sticks at each other. When the nuts were gone they made their way back to the farms, their trail through the grass dried out by the sun. They parted for lunch and the helper’s friend said he’d meet them afterwards.

After lunch the helper and his father headed out to the gate in their long wagon, the one that got hitched to four beasts. They stopped to pick up the helper’s friend and he jumped into the back. The boy joined him and the two of them sat with their legs hanging over the edge as the father steered the beasts up the dirt path to where the wheat grew. The wind had come up. It would be very windy when they arrived, and the bugs would certainly come. It was going to be a busy afternoon.

When the father stopped the wagon, there was already a buzzing in the air. To the north-east the sky was dark. They were at the entrance to the large field and the father spoke to the friend, “you’ll be getting the older net. Handle’s still fine, weight too, but the net has holes in it.” He pulled out the sweep net and smiled at the boy. “You’re a first timer after all, and first timers always get the bad net. So when you think you’re in a thick spot, drop the weight, and run around it with the net. Catch as many as you can, but don’t hold the net too high, or too long, or you’ll just get tired. The trap –“ the father tapped the black cylinder at the end of the net, “- isn’t heavy, but it can crack if you drop it on the ground too hard. We’re going until supper time, so take breaks!”

A few other wagons pulled up and other men and boys got out. Soon the field of wheat was alive with nets and the good-natured yells of the harvest. The locusts, emerging from the dark cloud to the north east, had already started coming in. Loud flying insects, they followed the wind, half flying and half falling. The two boys stuck close together, the helper laughing as his friend swiped at the bugs that landed on him. “A lot different from picking carrots, huh?”

Soon the sky was thick with the bugs. The boys dropped their weights, which were attached to a pivot at the end of the handle, and ran around them, scooping up as many of the bugs as they could. Runners would come along on occasion and switch out their traps, leaving them with empty ones. Looking up, the father’s boy took in the strange dance of the silky strong nets as they moved up and down, fully inflated in the wind, with men running madly in circles beneath them.

Being boys they were tired long before the end of the day, and they slowed down. The friend was sore and had blisters, but threw a bug at the father’s boy and laughed when it landed in his face. The father’s boy feigned anger, “I’m gonna put you in this net!”, and chased his friend. “Hey, make for the hilltop, the grass is shorter – less bugs – we can take a break.”

They worked themselves away from the other harvesters until they were at the top of a small rise. The bugs were lighter here, having less reason to stay on the rocky ground. “Look east” The friend said. “Still dark. Dark way up high too.” The sky roiled with dark clouds. And then he said, “I wish I could see what was up there.”

The father’s boy responded, “What? There’s only more bugs up there.” After a pause, he asked his friend, “So, you wanna help tomorrow too?”

“The locusts are delicious, and good for you.” The next day the two boys were riding with the father out to the fields where the grain grew. The father was telling the boy’s friend about the bugs. “My grandfather used to harvest them when they came in. Just like him, we sell the bugs in town, and to the merchants. They’re a delicacy! I’ve had merchants tell me that our harvest goes all the way to the westlands. If the wind is good, like this year, we do well for the rest of the year.”

When they arrived to the fields, the boys followed their previous day’s path out towards the hill. Stopping on the hill for a break, the father’s boy picked a bug from the ground, and smiling at his friend, bit the top half of it off in his mouth. He crunched and his friend’s eyes widened. “My dad says they’re best when they’re fresh.”

“Yuck.”

The father’s boy continued chewing for awhile and then spit the masticated bug to the ground. “Yeah. It is. I don’t know how dad eats them.” They laughed.

They looked to the north and east, relaxing easily while the bugs crashed all around them. Towards the north the fields ended in bluffs, and the sea disappeared into the horizon. The cloud of bugs was dark and full. “How can such a dark cloud be made out of just bugs?” asked the friend. The buzzing was louder than yesterday.

“That’s darker then I’ve ever seen it.” The swarm was darker than it had ever been, and it was now thicker than it had been. “Maybe we should go back.”

They made their way back towards the rest of the harvesters and the front of the fields. The others had come in as well, unnerved by the thickness of the bugs and the darkness of the horizon. But the father was in good spirits.

“Come on lads, we’re going to have a bumper crop this year!” Empty your traps and get back into the fields! This will be a swarm to remember! Fill our wagons boys! The whole world will benefit from the taste and health of our crop!” The workers were bolstered by his talk and moved back into the fields. “Remember, every trap filled with bugs is another day spent cozy come this winter! The swarm will keep our bellies full come winter! The harvest has come in!” He slapped bugs from men’s shoulders and emptied traps into the wagons.

And so they worked. The two boys kept close to the rest of the group now, and the father’s boy looked anxiously at the cloud to the north. The bugs fell on the grain and the nets furled like living things through the air. Beneath them the men ran in erratic circles.

That night, with the wind down and the buzzing quieted, the father sat with his wife and the boy. He said that the crop was very big this year, and that tomorrow would be the most memorable harvest of his life. “The bugs will black out the sun and be thick in the air and at the end of the day we’ll have the peace that comes with knowing that the harvest is done, and we’ll have more than enough to last us comfortably through the winter.”

Just like the father had predicted, the next afternoon the wind was strong and the sky was black with bugs. The workers were unnerved, but the father laughed and clapped men on the back and sent them all out into the fields. He spoke to the boys: “You are very lucky today! You may live 200 years and not see another harvest like today. Work hard, and today you’ll have something to tell your own children about.” He sent them out to the fields.

The boys worked mostly in quiet until the boy’s friend broke the silence, saying, “You can barely see the sky!” But shortly afterwards he sucked air into his lungs and yelled. “Look up! There is something in the sky! Everywhere! Above the bugs!”

The father’s boy stopped dancing around his weight and brought his net down. He looked to the sky and his jaw opened. The net fell from his hands. “What is it?”

In the sky, high above the bugs, were many shapes. They moved slowly through the air above them. Large shapes, like behemoth birds. Impossibly large. “They’re not animals. They’re so big! What are they?” asked the father’s boy.

“We need to go back now!” the friend wailed, and the two boys dropped their nets and ran through the field, bugs crunching beneath their boots. The boy looked up as he ran and saw that they were metal, thick and heavy-looking. The sky was full with the foreign machines. As they ran the boy saw that one of them in particular was closer. It moved towards them at an angle. It was close enough to see that it was clearly a machine, a great steel machine, colored golden and reflecting the sun when it broke through the cloud of machines above.

“Do you see it?” “Yes!” The friend answered. They looked at it as they ran. It was shaped like a giant bird, with broad short wings jutting from either side and a large hooked nose at the front. It grew closer as the boys ran, and they boy thought that maybe it could see them. An overpowering roar found them, quickly overcoming the sound of the buzzing until it filled the entire world. The machine grew closer, and was now low enough to definitely be over the field, to be near to the boys.

“Run!” The father’s boy screamed. They fled through the field, stalks striking their faces and legs. Bugs hit them and stuck to their clothes, and the boys didn’t notice for their fear. The machine was now slowly moving over top of them and it blotted out the sky, its shadow swallowing the boys in a twilight. It descended lower. Looking back and to the side the boy could see that behind the machine the air was distorted, and in it the bugs were disappearing into thousands of orange sparks. The hooked nose of the great thing was pointed the same direction in which the boys were running.

Finally the boy saw his father near the wagons, with the other men. He didn’t slow down until he reached his father’s arms. The father embraced him and held him tight. When the boy’s friend reached them the father reached with one arm, bringing him into the embrace. The boy dried his tears on his father’s shoulder and looked around. The bugs had disappeared from the air.

“Dad?”

“Don’t move son, stay with your dad.”

The boys buried their heads into the father’s shoulders and they stayed there. The roar changed and, after some time, fell away. At first the boy thought his ears were ringing, but he realized there was a new sound. A humming sound. He raised his eyes. They were still in shadow. He could see no bugs. The humming was low pitched, and not at all unpleasant. He turned his head back and up.

The machine was above and to the side. It hung in the air, high up so that several houses on top of one another would not reach it. The humming continued and all the workers stood staring. The boy turned around, and tugged on his friend’s shoulder. “Look!” He said.

From near the front of the giant flying machine something emerged downwards from the underside of the machine. It protruded like a tumor, until it became separate – a giant, grey egg, the size of one of the wagons. It descended towards the ground, hanging from several black tendrils until it reached the ground. The giant metal pod settled there, and sat pointing up. It was not smooth up close, but rough, with plates of metal, and depressions, and ridges. The boy could hear the men around him quietly swearing and breathing quickly. The boy looked at his friend, who was staring at the thing. Aside from the low humming it was quiet, the most quiet it had been in days.

The thing moved. A wet crack, as if from an egg, came from the pod. A section in the lower two-thirds of the thing moved out and rotated upwards. Thick slime oozed to the ground from around the edge. There was movement, and someone amongst the men took a panicked breath.

A leg emerged. Then the whole thing. The boy was shocked, “It’s a man! There’s a man inside!”

He was a tall man, with grey skin and an oppressive brow. He wore foreign black clothes that clung to his body and he stood and looked at the workers, and then at the field around him. He walked towards the men, seemingly calm.

His boot crunched on something. The man stopped and looked down, moved his boot. It was a locust. The boy looked around and saw for the first time that the bugs were still there, clinging silently to the grass or lying on the ground. The foreign man reached down and picked up a bug and continued walking. The boy stared as the man surveyed them all and then took a bite from the bug. He chewed. He took another bite. He neared them and stood several feet away from the boys and the father. He looked at the trio and chewed. Then he brushed his hands clean and closed the distance to the father.

“Get behind me boys.” The father said, and the boys darted behind the father’s big frame. The foreigner stood in front of the father and looked at him. The workers stared, too afraid to breathe. The foreigner lifted a hand and placed it on the father’s shoulder. The father didn’t flinch, and looked up at the man. The foreigner smiled and, incredibly, gave the father’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. He gave a single word. “Amarr”. The hum in the air was the only sound. The workers held their breath. The father looked at the man, and nodded, slowly.

The foreigner clapped the father on his shoulder and stepped back and addressed all the workers: “Amarrian.” He was smiling. Then he looked directly at the boy, still hiding behind his father. The man stepped in close to the father and, reaching around, cupped the boy’s chin with his hand. The boy found he wasn’t frightened to have the man touch him, he was frightened at the thought of moving away from him. The man looked at him, and winked. The boy went cold, and chills ran through his body.

The foreigner released the boy’s head and turned, walking back towards where he’d come. He reached the pod and put a leg in, but then, thinking better, removed it and looked to the ground. He stooped and gathered several bugs in his hands and then straightened, stepping into the pod and disappearing. The displaced section swung down and back into place. There was a moment of silence and then the tendrils hanging from the machine above to the egg went tight, and the thing went up, up, and back inside the giant metal cradle that birthed it.

There was a moment of silence, and all the workers quietly stared at the colossal machine floating in the sky above them. It was nearing dusk and the sun, low on the horizon, was orange and beautiful as it scattered on the gold of the flying machine. Then the roar rose again and the machine moved, its giant hooked nose angling upward. The giant thing began to move up and over the heads of the workers, moving to join the sky that was dark with untold numbers of giant machines, all golden and terrible, filling the whole sky and moving from one end to another. The machine moved higher and higher until it became just another machine amongst the untold numbers, disappearing into the swarm.

– by Tarartia

Charmerout IV – Trantalis. The Charmerout Heads of Government Annual Meeting (CHOGAM) is scheduled to commence tomorrow on Charmerout IV. The week-long event is being hosted in the diplomatic district of the system capital, Trantalis, and political leaders have been arriving from all over Charmerout System during the last few days.

Last year, the meeting was held on the Federal Administration station over Charmerout IX, and covered such issues as the growing number of economic migrants from both the Cladari State and Minmatar Republic fleeing the ongoing factional war, and the local increase in Serpentis activity within the system.

This year, the main topic of discussion will be the effects of Universalisation and the impending ratification of the Planetary Improvement (PI) clause under the wider Gallente Federation Free Trade Agreement (GAFFTA). The PI clause formalises into one agreement the numerous treaties between the Federation and individual star systems that hold that the rights to under-utilised natural resources are administered by Federal authority. This includes the multitude of the uninhabited planets in the Federation that have until this point languished for want of investment incentives, especially in the lower security regions.

Critics of the PI clause have dubbed it the ‘Tyranis’ treaty, due to provisions that give industrial barons amongst the capsuleer class privileged access to claim and develop planetary resources almost without any oversight by the Federation. This provision is highly controversial and many fear the growing power being granted to the newest emerging class in Gallente society. The welfare interests of billions of planetary inhabitants are literally being handed over to a few thousand elites, with little governmental regulation to enforce ethical standards of treatment.

The Planetary Improvement bill will also have immense ramifications for the individual system governments and the interstellar corporations, albeit with more regulatory restrictions than have been imposed upon the capsuleers. Ratification of the controversial bill is set to open up for exploitation many of the planetary resources that are held in public trust by the Federation. Individual systems effectively lose discretionary rights over the economic development approval process, and in return system governments will be granted an ongoing gratuity proportional to the estimated value of the under-utilised planetary resources contained within their systems. This gratuity will be supplemented by a tax levied against resource developers. Additionally, the Federal Treasury is underwriting taxation offsets aimed at improving cash-flow for systems governments compliant with the ratification deadline.

The deadline for Federation-wide ratification of the PI clause is set for mid-next week, although Charmerout is said to be compliant and ready for the transition now. System President, Claudius Farn-Roth, stated last month: “Charmerout is ready for PI. This agreement merely formalises the existing treaties with the Federation under the GAFFTA, and introduces additional controls. Actually, it plugs up some legislative loopholes that have allowed disreputable operators to evade responsibility in the past, and introduces incentives for the sustainable development of resources in Charmerout”.

Oitus Jamril, leader of the Progressive Liberal Party, has called for a delay to the Charmerout ratification of PI to conduct a series of impact studies to determine social and economic effects of the changes, and to legislate regulatory controls for capsuleer industrialists operating within Charmerout space.

But resistance to the looming ratification of the ‘Tyranis’ treaty seems unlikely to gain political traction within Charmerout. The President has emphatically had the last word. “Ratification of PI will happen for Charmerout in accordance with the timeframe laid out by the Federation. Any talk of delay is nonsense!”

PI Debate Continues As Ratification Date Approaches

Wider afield, critics of the so-called Tyranis treaty claim that the Federal protection measures do not go far enough to ensure that development projects will not adversely affect indigenous populations and delicate natural environments. It is feared that by opening up planetary improvement rights in a single stroke Federation-wide, there will be a rush by large interstellar corporations and independent industrial barons to exploit these resources without regard to human rights or environmental impacts.

Others anticipate numerous unpredictable economic consequences arising from the resource rush, the burden of which will inevitably be borne by the least privileged in Gallente society. This concern is felt with extra-special anxiety in the Low-Sec regions, where the influence of Federation authority is less pronounced.

Charmerout’s-own delegate to the Federal Human Rights and Justice Commission, Gillian Hugoparez, said of the PI clause: “Big business has everything to gain and the little guy has everything to lose under this arrangement. PI has the potential to subjugate billions of people to corporate slavery in a tidal wave of greed. Forcing this down our throats is like something we would expect to occur in the Caldari State, not the Gallente Federation!”

Federation Treasurer, Waldron Swallsomne, has been critical of dissent, saying “PI will bring immeasurable prosperity to the Federation by blowing out the cobwebs of administrative red-tape, as represented by the total hodge-podge arrangement in place where the systems held the power of discretionary approval, while the Federation administered the rights to the resources”.

Stopping short of accusing the system governments of corruption, Swallsomne added “The old arrangement didn’t work, as there was no incentive for the systems to approve projects when there was nothing in it for them. What we had were numerous local approval processes that were impossible to regulate as a central authority. Put simply, the old way retarded economic growth, while the new system will bring about a well-deserved golden age for the Federation”.

Linking the PI clause to the ongoing conflict with the Caldari State, Swallsomne continued with a thinly veiled threat: “This is a vital economic measure that will enable our society to prosper in these times of conflict. Any system that fails to implement the clause by the ratification date endangers its claim to a share of the Treasury gratuity, and will be viewed in the harshest of possible terms”.

The GAFFTA reforms are being closely watched by the other Empires of New Eden. It has been reported in interstellar media that the other three powers are considering adopting similar measures in the face of depressing economic conditions due to the ongoing state of interstellar conflict. But with the ratification date for PI drawing close, Charmerout has seen a flurry of speculative survey activity take place, and clearly, as many people are looking forward to the new opportunities as there are those who look on with trepidation.