[Story] NightDreamer09's 100 Themes

[NightDreamer09]

51. Sport

 

Inspired by a passion and written by listening, and watching, to Good Company – Mammoth Edit.

Sport She breathed the cold air and puffed, letting a small thin cloud of breath coalesce and disappear in front of her. The sun glared above them, reflecting on the showy landscape. She thumped her skis on the snowy ground and she moved her shoulders and arms to warm herself up. She breathed the cold air as she crouched to check at her boots bindings, making sure they had been set tightly right. It was about time. She breathed looking down the slope to the jump. She breathed again. Her poles clicked together. She breathed again. She moved herself out of the equilibrium and started going down. She crouched, cutting the cold air better, gaining speed. One hand behind her back, the other close to her side. Her eyes were on the edge of the jump. It was getting closer and closer. Before she knew it, she was there. She straightened up, popping up from the snow. She twisted to the side, bringing her skis to cross behind her. Her left hand reached back, searching for a tail tip, caressing it, gripping it with her gloved fingers. The world spin around her, her eyes glanced at the landing. Once. Twice. The world was straight again, but the landing was there too. Her knees bent as they absorbed the impact of her body landing on the hard snow. She breathed again as the slope flattened and she could glance behind her shoulder at the jump she had just cleared. It was for moments like that she lived for. It was for a sport like that she lived for. She twisted and brought her movement to a halt, snow spraying downward from her. She leaned on the poles, watching as another skier cleared the jump, reaching out to grab those tips at the same time, twisting them in flight before landing them nice and clean. She couldn’t but smile. A sport like that made her feel alive.

[NightDreamer09]

8. Innocence

 

This piece started around the tattoo paragraph, I imagined such paragraph first and only as I expanded around it, thinking of stuff like Ghost in the Shell, I thought about which theme could fit; I felt the Innocence theme could fit.

(Lost) Innocence She was sitting sideways on the used synth leather seat of the hover bike. The air smelled... like it smelled any other day, with the addition of the rain. The smell of wastes, both inanimate and animate. The smell of engines and technology. The smell of the rain. It was going to rain, yes, very, very soon. However, it wasn't like the rain washed away all the other smells, it simply made them more humid. She slowly licked her blackened lips, her split and pierced tongue slithering out to get a taste, much like a snake, even if she hardly had anything to do with snakes. Yes, it was going to rain, probably in some other far away parts of the city it was raining already, those oily drops smattering on the twisted metal and the cracked concrete. She shivered as she felt her partner's teeth graze at her neck and she landed a firm swat on the thig that was resting beside hers, a swat that arose a disappointed pout. She liked the attentions and she didn't mind showing off, she knew people stared at her and her group, but it wasn't the time for rougher stuff and the swat was a clear sign of that. Still, it did not deter the attentions, it would have hardly done so, as the teeth turned into brushing lips. Her eyes casually drove through the street, the dirt littered, neon lightened street extending both ways from her. People walked past, who hurriedly trying to just be gone before registering in the eyes of the predators, who in a drugs or alcohol induced hazes and stupors lost in other places and dimensions and not really worried about the here and now, who with the stride of the predator, telling all other predators to not mess with them. Such a variety… She was a predator, she had been one of those hurrying past, the preys, that was true, but it had been so long ago… before she lost her innocence. She had been innocent, mostly innocent, but in a world like theirs… you lost your innocence fast or die, whoever came first. She lost hers, not completely willingly, but then… it was better than to turn up dead somewhere… or worse. From there… innocence had become only a word, without connection to her. What it had been done, it had been done, there was hardly any space to actively dwell on her past; at most it could sit in her nagging thoughts and hunt her dreams and nightmares alike, but that was it. She was a different being from the innocent girl she had started out and the ink… the ink made sure she did not forget what she had done and what she had turned into. It started at her hands, like claws superimposed on her flesh hands but the ink is alive… the ink is something that once started, is not going to stop till the very end. Once you took the first drop, more will follow. It spread up like a curse from her hand, moving up her arm into a seemingly endless wave. It reached up to her shoulder, it slithered there but it did not stop, no, it met with the ink reaching up from the other arm, circling her neck, reaching up toward the head like thirsty homeless reached out to the sky for some form of salvation. But it didn't just reach up, it dribbled down her back, drowning her skin in a dark flood, a flood that always hungry reached forward and around, to claw at her belly. Gravity pulled and the ink sneaked down her sides, to coil on her toned thigs but much ground it has covered and only drips and dots fell below the knees. Yes, the ink, telling the watchers she was a real deal, telling them she had reached there not though some help from high above; no, she had reached there by her body’s strength, her claws’ sharpness and her brain’s hardness. She inhaled again the scents of the city. Such a place to live in. The place where hardly any innocence lasted long enough. Her black eyes looked up where, past the neons, the cables and the walkaways, the sky was clouded in dark metal grey. As she looked, the first drops fell from the sky, making their way through the obstacle course making up the higher levels above the street. An oily, dark drop splattered on her cheek. A sister reached down, to splatter close to her upper lip and her tongue sneaked out to get a taste of it. Yes… it was raining tonight and it tasted like the tears of a forgotten heaven, crying for the lost innocence of the teeming metropolis. The only innocence left was the lost innocence.

[NightDreamer09]

17. Blood

 

I admit I got inspired by Dune's Sardaukars for this <.< I first wrote the first part and then, as I imagined the legion conquering a planet, I added the second part which fit the theme "Blood".

There is blood in the second part so I advise caution.

Blood (Legion) The Legion. The one that had razed to the ground the Sarsinghurst Fortress. The one that had turned the Arocairn citadel into a haunted ruin. And much, much more. She watched from the balcony as the Legion stood in position. The Legion on parade meant destruction was on the horizon most often than not. The weather did little to turn the day less grim: the metal grey clouds above forbid any ray of the sun from touching and warming the cold soldiers. Their pikes pointing straight at the sky, their helmets reflecting the greyish light, their green armor suits looking darker than they were. Those people weren't just soldiers, they were killing machines, brutally cold machine following the orders to the letter, laying wastes of their opponents. Who entered the training to become a legionnaire either died or become the best soldier the galaxy could produce: a living weapon in itself. Her fist rested on the balcony's railing as her emerald green eyes surveyed the assembled rows of soldiers. Square after square of perfect soldiers, standing without the smallest of movements, their commanding officials at the head of each block. She slowly licked her dark green, more of a black with a green tone than green in fact, lips and they stretched into a thin smile. She liked the Legion, how efficient it was, and they were at her command: a snap of her fingers, a word from her lips, and destruction would rain on her opponents; the worst nightmare on this side of the galaxy would be unleashed, a nightmare that wouldn't be stopped until her orders had been completed. She couldn't but relish the power she had in her hands, resting in those gloved hands with the back of dark grey metal plates and the bottom of a dark emerald green with pads to reinforce her grip on weapons. A grip that did not stop to physical weapons but it carried over to the position she had reached as the supreme and unchallenged head of the Legion: the Supreme One. The pike in her hand was one of the symbols of her power: the ornate lower and upper parts, the dark blade shining on top, it looked more like a ceremonial instrument than a true weapon but in the right hands, it could be as deadly as the simple, sharp pikes that the Legion brought in battle. She had shed blood before with it and she knew it will shed more. The armor reinforced her image: the halo of metal spikes, like a twisted, violent version of the old iconographies’ light halo, opening behind her head, the dark emerald green cloak falling down to the ground, the pauldrons in the shape of hungry demon hounds, the armor reaching forward from her spine to hug her sides like claws, the metal plates that resembled scales on her thighs and her knee high boots with their clawed points. She was the Supreme One. She raised her fist and, as one, the Legion stumped their pikes down on the concrete, the sound exploding and carrying around. It was one of the mightiest spectacles that could be found all over the galaxy. Each one of those men would die for her in the ultimate sacrifice, before it could betray her or the Legion itself. “My Legion.” She spoke and her voice carried, like magic, through the ranks and every soldier could hear it, from the first rows to the farthermost rows at the end of the parade field. “You have been called again to your duty. Once again the Legion will march against its enemies. The planet Berwalla had chosen the cleansing fire of the Legion above any other option and thus it shall be.” She paused, breathing, imagining the faces of the people of Berwalla as the dropship with the green demon hound appeared in their skies. Her lips turned into a thin, cruel smile. “You know your orders, my Legion. Go!” she shouted and the Legion saluted, with the resounding sound of the pikes on the ground and the single shout spreading from the parade field “FOR THE LEGION!” She rose her fist and again the soldiers rose their pikes in the air, stumping down on the ground. Berwalla shall burn. It had been decided. She pushed back from the balcony’s rail but her eyes remained on the Legion. She felt her personal aide coming to stand one step behind and to the side of her but she did not look away. She watched as the Legion moved, heading for the ships that would carry them through the stars. Berwalla shall burn. It had been decided. And the Legion would triumph, once again. ~ <> ~ Her booted feet made a muffled sound as she strode on the once pure carpet, now stained with darkening stains. Her stride was the one of the victor, of the one knowing that, while the battle still raged outside, the final play was going to happen there and then. The legionnaires stood silently on both sides, amid the bodies and spreading blood pools. Their staffs and swords were freshly bloodied, the red stains darkening under the ashen light coming from the floor to ceiling windows at the opposite end of the room. The smell was the smell of bloods and metal, of sweat and fear. They had tried a last resistance but they all knew they were going to die there, in the room that had once housed banquets and celebrations and which now had become their tomb. Apart from the legionnaires, there were only three more figures, prostrated there, at the base of the steps leading to the once reigning seat of Berwalla. They were bruised and bloodied and cowered in silence, under the watchful eye of the Legion Captain that had led the assault. She stood in front of them, her staff stumped the ground as her eyes surveyed their pitiful forms. They had played their hand. And they had lost. Her lips slowly turned into a thin, cruel smile: the Legion had won. Again. “Gentlemen.” She said, moving her staff’s bottom under the central figure’s chin, raising their head, forcing them to look up to her, their conqueror and soon to be executioner. Her eyes were alight in delight as she licked her lips, she could see the fear in their eyes, the realization the end was truly looming above them now. "By the power granted me by the Isavian Collective, I hereby declare the dissolution of the Berwallian State.” She had great pleasure in pronouncing those words: they hardly mattered, it wasn’t like anyone could appeal against the Legion’s actions. “I hereby declare Berwalla a protectorate of the Legion. The Legion will administer it in respect to the laws and edicts of the Isavian Collective. Any objection?” The “law” required her to ask such question, albeit pretty much everyone knew that when she asked such question there wouldn’t be anyone alive to speak, or at least if someone was still alive, as such was the case, they wouldn’t remain alive much longer. “B-berwalla will n-not s-submit.” The words were more a croak than else but they had a defying tone to them; such a pitiful last moment of useless resistance. “It will~” she spoke in the sweetest of tones, there was still to be someone being able to stand and challenge the Legion and its steel fist. Such sweet words had just left her lips that her staff moved: in a blur, the staff rotated on its centre of gravity, the blade at the top came dock and back up. It connected with his chest, opening him up, reaching up under his chin and moving forward, leaving a body sprawled on its back, gurgling blood. The same blood that sprayed around, smattered her boots, coated the blade and dripped down as the blade was vertical again. “By the blood, the accord is signed!” she proclaimed, stumping the staff on the ground. She knew behind the helmet the Captain was grinning; the officers that lasted long enough took a twisted pleasures in her shows when a change of power was made in favour of the Legion. “You know what to do.” She told him and he nodded. Silently blades appeared and the required blood toll was taken, two more bodies joining all the others on the filthy floor. An explosion lightened up outside, putting in harder contrast the silent soldiers, the bodies and the darkening pools. Berwalla was theirs. As planned and as expected. She was delighted as she stepped past the cooling bodies and reached to caress the armrest of that throne. She was silhouetted against the outside as she stood there watching the Legion do its work. On the blood of their enemies, the Legion had triumphed.

[NightDreamer09]

22. Mother Nature

 

Albeit my creativity had taken a hit due to rl, I haven’t forgotten about the 100 themes. Some inspiration comes from the Shannara universe.

Mother Nature Mother Nature! Those words were more of a scream, full of fear and no small percentage of surprise, than a praise. On a world were nothing could happen without proper planning, where machines and science had harnessed and tightly controlled any form of Mother Nature's expression, the fact that Mother Nature had arose past such bindings was... unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. An unexpected occurrence prompts emergency protocols and machines operated swiftly: they followed a pathway that hardly was ever followed in the many centuries that Mother Nature had been subdued to such constricting controls. However, this time, it was not enough. Mother Nature raged on, the machines that had made it bow to their will were the ones forced to bow this time. The ground rocked and upheaved with thundering roars, the wind whipped and gripped whatever was standing in the open trying to break it away, to carry it afar. The water arose, bit in the terrain and washed on the machines. From the rupturing ground, magma, hot and seething, arose from the once calm depths: it eat, it melted, it covered a landscape once made of machines and a society's ego in freshly born ground. Mother Nature clawed at the world as it had once been. It came back to the role she once had: the mother of all things, the mistress of the world. In a matter of days, what once was, was no more. The once tightly controlled weather and environments were now unbridled, free of the mechanical constraints of a society that had gone past their peak, trying to reach past any possible, and sensible, limit; all in a doomed search for perfection. That world was no more. Only husks and ruins remained, scattered survivors trying to survive in a world that they only heard of in tales and fantasy. Mother Nature was one once again. The ruler of the world. ~ < > ~ She sat in silence, in the shadow of the purplish tree. Across the clearing, broken spires and structures arose from the bushy ground. Overwhelmed by nature, they still tried to reach the sky with pleading, broken hands, asking for forgiveness for their sins. The leaves rustled softly in the breeze as the sun shone unforgiving on those ruins. She leaned back against the parched bark. Sometimes Mother Nature spoke to her. Usually about things of the present but sometimes... sometimes about things of the past. Mother Nature was like the mother of the world, had seen the birth and will see the end of it all. It had been seamlessly tied to the destiny of this world; sometimes she had taken part in it, sometimes she had let other forces shape it. It was hard to believe such hubris. Chaining Mother Nature to the wills of thinking machines, in turn programmed to the wills of a society that thought themselves more than gods. It must have been such a different world... However, she wasn't sure she would have liked that: constructions until eyes could see, trees and plants only in carefully controlled and limited areas... what about the spawning forest, the teeming underbrush, the wind carrying the words of the trees and the ground carrying the vibrations of life? She shook her head, no. Her eyes gazed up on those twisted remains: they carried the traces of a harsh end, the end that had brought equilibrium again. Mother Nature was equilibrium, the balance with everything and all. A balance such madmen had modified, chained and forcefully shaped to their needs. In her world not much of the old technology remained, most had been destroyed and what had survived... it was of hard understanding, if it could be understood at all. Now Mother Nature ruled free, the forest covered vast areas of the lands, the weather had gone back to its unpredictably self and the living beings worked with it. Mother Nature is one and all. As such shall be unchallenged. Doomed is the man who try to force it to his needs. So the scriptures recited and so shall be. She stood up, gathering her bag and staff. The scriptures summarized pretty well, in her opinion, the truth of the world: Mother Nature should not be forced or challenged and the man who foolishly tried so, was in for a painful end. A truly painful end. May those ruins always remember the man how far was too far.

[NightDreamer09]

70. 67%

 

67% was one of the themes that worried me the most but as I got this idea, I choose to just roll with it. Inspiration mainly comes from Ghost in the Shell and Shadowrun. It had been written listening to this melodic witch house mix.

67% 67 was the percentage the counter had reached when all hells broke loose. Intrusion detected, maximum alert, lockdown protocols active. The speakers blared their noisy warnings as the corridors lightened up in red and orange hues. Grips tightened on weapons and glances were exchanged but only a pair of eyes, hard and questioning moved on the black clad hacker standing in front of the diagnostic console. The diagnostic console had been their way into the mainframe holding the valuable data they were targeting. “I have no clue.” It was the dry response, with just a thang of worry, as his fingers danced on the virtual keyboard. No trigger he could see had been touched and yet, the system was going in full lockdown and their position was being broadcasted all over the security network. “Incoming…” he hadn’t finished speaking that a grenade detonated right on the door! The explosion threw two of the intruders back, against the opposite wall, while the others were stunned and dazed by the sudden explosion. A hail of bullets peppered the wall opposing the door as the two fallen half scuttled to safety, half were dragged off the death zone, barely making out with no extreme injuries. “We noticed. Let’s get out of here, FAST!” the commander ordered; there wasn’t much else to do at that point. They had been found and the more they waited the harder would become getting out in one piece, if they could. For as much as the hacker tried, the counter did not move away from that 67 percent. A percentage that now smelled of incoming death, hovering there, with its orange hues. With their orders and hand commands, the intruders reorganized, trying to answer the hail of bullets. Not an easy task as the stream coming in felt endless. The sound was deafening if it wasn’t for the armour suits and noise lowering helmets; the smoke still clung in whisps and globs all over, making it hard to distinguish anything while the thermo scanners were messed up by the super heated shells and the remnants of the grenade’s heatwave. “At least two full squads.” The curt response came from one of the intruders on the door. “Heavy armoured.” “Cleave us a way out!” The time for finesse was done, it was the time to do anything necessary to get out. Grenades were armed and shot toward the incoming security squads adding to the confusion and the carnage. “OUT!” starting from the two, more heavily armed intruders on point on the door, the squad sprinted outside, trying to forcefully open themselves a way out through what was becoming a death trap. The two squads had been ravaged by the explosive grenades and bullets but the same it couldn’t be said for the third, rushing in from behind and bringing heavier weaponry into play. The Assisted Armoured Exoskeleton towered above the rest of the security squad, bigger of the biggest between those heavily armoured soldiers. With its size, nearly brushing the ceiling, it represented a deadly, well armed and hard to kill opponent. There was a moment of stillness as the two opposing groups stared at each other; who would move first? Whose bullets would be the fastest and truest? However, such moment could not hold forever: the already damaged corridor was lightened up with bullets and shrapnels once again. The intruders tried to get out of the exoskeleton’s heavy machine gun but in a corridor there were not many ways out. The first to fall was one of the two on point, the heavier armour not enough to defend against the heavier explosive bullets. The rest tried to retreat, taking down security soldiers in the process but not enough, more intruders falling, one after another. The exoskeleton thundered forward, bringer of death in those restricted spaces. There was no way out, the commander saw it now, as his companions fell around him, as the walls were scratched and riddled, as the exoskeleton towered not far. He armed one last grenade, bullets tore at his legs, he fell on the ground, amidst the blood, the plastic and the metal. He rolled on its side as more bullets tore through his chest armour but he held on the rifle. In the last moment of life, he squeezed the trigger, letting the grenade sprang forward, roll on the ground, reach the exoskeleton… and detonate, crippling the exoskeleton and taking more blood in the ultimate sacrifice. The broken light fixtures above buzzed and fizzled with leaking energy, the last bullets flew fast, everything was painted in orange and red hues, darkening, more and more… it was the end, at just 67 percent… That hovering counter looked sneering into those bloodied hues, like if it was taunting such failed attempt at cyber robbery. So close and yet… so far. 67 percent.

[NightDreamer09]

53. Keeping a secret

 

Just a sci-fi piece of sort; people might recognize the T-shaped visor and yes, she is one of them.

Keeping a secret "Do you know how to keep a secret?" her words, metallic through the helmet speakers had a sweet tone, a tone that clashed with the gun pointing at the temple of the fearful scientist. "Y-yes Miss!" he replied, staring into the black T-shaped visor as his feet dangled in the air. The armoured soldier had stormed into the lab and before he could do anything he had found himself hanging against the wall, a gun to the head and a helmet staring at him. In fact, he was not even sure the soldier was a she and not a he. He guessed it might be a she as the armor looked less bulky than on similar soldiers he had seen in the news, but he couldn't say for certain. What he knew for certain was the cold metal pointing at his temple and the fact that he had no real way out. "Good. I wouldn't like to have to come back for more reminders." "T-there won't be any need!" he tried to reassure her as sweat beaded down his forehead. He knew what secrets she meant and he knew why she had come visiting. He shouldn't have let that few words slip out! Satisfied she had done the right impression, she let him go and he fells to the ground, gasping for breath as she turned and headed for the door. "Keep good care of secrets, doctor." she reminded him, glancing back and seeing the dread in his eyes before the door closed behind her. ~ <> ~ "Reminder done." she said coldly, staring at the small figure on the handheld holoprojector. "Very well, the pay had been deposited in your account." He spoke without inflections nor warmth; it was just business for people like them. "Pleasure doing business with you." "Likewise." the connection was broken and she put the holoprojector in one of her belt bags. She sat on the edge of the building, legs hanging in the chasm splitting skyscrapers apart, before she removed her helmet and breathed the not so nice air. In such moments, she often felt thankful to the air scrubbers of her helmet removing the majority of smells and stuff hanging around. She looked up, to a cloudy and grey sky, crisscrossed by speeders and other vehicles, to the concrete and metal skyscrapers, alight and reaching high. She wondered why keeping a secret was so hard. The reminder she did to the scientist wasn’t the first and it wasn’t going to be the last; the scientist had to be thankful that her orders had been to remind and nothing else… other reminders had left… permanent reminders to their subjects. She swiped across the walkaways and down, toward the shimmering electric darkness below, toward the bowels of the metropolis. Keeping a secret couldn’t be that hard… but then, temptations could be as sweet and clearly many people couldn’t properly weight what it meant and entailed not keeping a secret they had been trusted upon. Oh well… ~ <> ~ "Hello, doctor." she loomed over him. Once again, she would have added. She had visited the doctor a certain amount of time before but it seemed her services were required again as the good doctor had a hard time keeping his secrets. The coldest of chills run down his spine as he slowly turned from his station "H-hello… ah-mm…" why she had come back? And why she had to creep up on him like that? "What did I say about secrets?" she asked, casually looming just a bit more over him. The dark T-shaped visor reflected the laboratory’s stark lights and he could see his reflection in that soulless stare. "A-ah… ummm… K-keep a g-good c-care o-of t-them!" Sweat beaded on his forehead and he felt it cold on his back; how could she know about it all? He had been careful, there had been no trace and he had been reassured that he would get away safely…! "Then, why am I here?” her metallic words let just a hit of nuisance drip through. She did not love having to come back for more reminders. It paid, sure, but it did not mean she enjoyed it. She wasn’t such a savage. “I-I… uh.. m.. d-don’t know.” He tried, glancing around like a trapped prey; it was a behavior she noticed and for which she pitied him. “You sure don’t? Really?” the sweet that came through the metallic voice had an undertone of scorn “Come on, good doctor.” He knew what she was talking about but he was trying to play the innocent. Sad. She did not like the people who didn’t keep good care of the secrets that had been trusted upon them but she could respect someone that made a stance on why he or she did not keep such secret secret. However, she could not respect such a spineless stance. “I-I h-have no.. uhm… c-clue!” his panic was raising and he indeed felt like a rat in front of a much bigger predator. She casually stood back, letting the doctor feel less loomed over, she even took a step back and she noticed how he breathed, thinking he was going to escape her. “Sad, good doctor. Very sad.” She drew her gun and he could only open his mouth, widen his eyes realizing he hadn’t got out at all before he was thrusted back against the table, a smoking hole in his chest and life taking its flight to the heaven, if anyone believed in that, of course. “Keep good care of your secrets, good doctor.” She said scornfully looking over the now lifeless body. Her employer had been clear: the doctor’s usefulness had reached the end and a dead man tell no secret. She turned and headed for the door leaving to others the job of cleaning up, her job was done. Secrets must be kept in good care, after all.

[NightDreamer09]

75. Mirror

 

An experiment, it feels a bit raw but I want to move forward. I tried touching a particular theme with which not everyone might relate.

Mirror Mirror. An object reflecting the reality. But which reality? The reality of the mind? The reality of the physicality? Or another reality altogether? He looked at himself in the mirror and the mirror reflect what it saw: a normal looking guy, in jeans and t-shirt, nothing more, nothing else. Normal. No fit, no fat. No striking, no dull. Just normal. The mirror reflected the physicality of it all. A harsh and unforgiving view. But a mirror can reflect much more. With a blurring movement, the reflective glass turned liquid, like mercury. It tensed and heaved before it was back as it was, plain and reflective, like if nothing had happened. However, something had happened: he looked at himself and saw something different. Gone was the normal looking guy and in its place, there was a woman with matching eyes but longer hairs, the t-shirt lightly tented at the chest, the jeans much more bubbly back there. A woman that gasped in surprise, a woman that couldn’t but feel herself, taking in a different body with different shapes, dynamics and reactions. Was all a trick of mirrors or just another reality? Perhaps a better reality, perhaps a worse reality, it was not on the mirror to decide, because the mirror simply reflected what it saw. It was on the person deciding if it was better or worse. It was on the person deciding what they wanted to see in that reflecting surface. For sure, the woman did not feel like she wanted to see something else.

[NightDreamer09]

95. Advertisement

 

Thinking of advertisement lead me to think of the Suntory’s ads in the film Lost in Translation. Updates on this 100 Themes project will remain a bit slow as I have some new writing commitments elsewhere taking a huge chunk of my writing time and inspiration.

Advertisement Drops of oily rain splattered and slowly tricked down the giant billboard. Its super charged imagery alighted the streets below more than lampposts did. However, most of the people walked past, the billboard was just one of the many fixtures in background, always alight, always proposing the latest advertisements. There was a hooded figure looking up to that billboard. It was standing still in the middle of the pedestrian way: people came and went, they flowed, around her, oblivious to its presence as much as to the reasons why it was standing there, under the falling rain, watching one of the many billboards pushing advertisements to the crowds. Her legs were thin, sheathed in black leggings, offsetted by the oversized, bulky like, jacket in neon colors reaching down below her waist. The oily drops pooled in the wrinkles of the jacket, slowly overflowed and dribbled down, reflecting the lights around in oily rainbows. A drop splattered on the figure's cheek, the smooth cheek of a young person, below the dark sunglasses going like a band from ear to ear. Dark lips spread just a fraction and nostrils flared as they took in the smells of the world. An advertisement played and reflected in those dark and yet reflecting glasses: it showed a spa pool, impossibly perfect, with sight on the Moon's Sea of Tranquillity. A woman in bath robes, dark with a silver, stylized planet and moon logo, was seen from behind, silhouetted against the floor to ceiling windows opening on the lunar landscape on the other side of the pool. She let the black bathrobes fall to reveal a perfect back, the right amount of cheeks, the right amount of thigs and legs. The bikini bottoms carried the same symbol of the bathrobe. She walked forward, dipping into the crystal clear water, before she swan till she rested her elbows on the edge, looking out on the lunar's surface. The camera followed, starting to move to the left side some, looking at the side of her serene face before the view started fading to black and silvery words coalesced into being "For the best Moon's experience, choose Tranquillity Sea Lunar Spa.". "STOP!" the director shouted and one of the staff rushed to help her out and dried her off "You need to put more sway in those hips, that ass has to swing and bounce! People have to look at you!" he spoke agitated; she didn't like him, she didn't like how he looked at her, but she had a job. "I see, I'll try." she replied obediently, nodding as she had a shiver of cold run up her spine. Staff hurried her to finish dry off and change her bikini for a new shoot, there was a budget to stay in and the time was limited. In those moments she wondered if the game was worth. If it was worth having such person shout at her, look at her, knowing more than many looked at her with other intents and interests. That was why she had been choose after all. She wondered if she wouldn’t be better on a ship cruising through space and in between planets, doing something with her hands, not having to sell her body and image. The makeup checked her makeup once again. The stylist checked her bikini was all right and nice, happening to sneak a hand for a touch of too much; by now, she was used to it. They did it every day; at first she didn’t like it, but now she was just used to it, cold to it as cold was the lunar surface outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. A few more moments and she was back in the bathrobe, ready to walk forward and dive into the pool. “ACTION!” She watched herself moving on the billboard. All for an advertisement, she thought. She wondered why she looked so good, so perfect, so charming, while inside she felt so unwell. She inhaled the smells of the city, so different from the perfect smells of the moon spa resort, so dirty. She wondered what she would do once her utility was exhausted, once she was too old to look cool and hot in an advertisement. She didn’t know. The billboard projected another advertisement: an older guy with silvery airs pulled back was sitting on a posh, dark red armchair. On a table nearby sat a glass bottle and a glass, both filled with amber liquid. He took the glass and made the liquid roll, inhaling and tasting the scent “When you need passion…” he spoke as in the view came a woman in a flowing red dress “You need.. Mazen~.” He smiled confidently as the woman sat on the armrest, smiling too at the camera, a polished hand void of rings sitting on his shoulder. “STOP!” the director shouted and the staff rushed to check on the two of them. She stood as the makeup up artist checked on her face and neck, watching at the director came closer “More sensuality, Miss. You need to be the embodiment of passion.” He spoke to her but it was clear she was more of an appliance than a real person “And you Mr Montgomery-san, more passion, more Mazen!” he gesticulated trying to convey what was spinning in his mind. “I see.” the man nodded and smiled condescending. She wondered how did he feel, he felt like he was on a downward path and this kind of advertisements was a way to keep his face relevant. However, it wasn’t on her to think, it was on her to walk and be… sensual. “ACTION!” An oily drop splattered on her sunglasses, blurring her view of the billboard and slowly sliding down to mix with her crystal clear tears. Were all the advertisements she was featured in worth it? She wondered for the umpteenth time. Were all the advertisements she was featured in worth the pressure to remain and be perfect at all times? She wondered thinking of the struggles and pressure she went through each and every day. Were all the advertisements… worth herself? She didn’t know.

[NightDreamer09]

81. Pen and paper

 

Pen and paper made me think of Dungeons and Dragons et similar games; thus, I tried to take a different perspective on a “classic” Dungeons and Dragons encounter. I thought about making the piece longer but I felt it would get repetitive fast.

81. Pen and paper "By the power of Bear!" the mighty barbarian shouted, feeling the power of the mythical creature pumping through her veins, giving her strength! Clad in animal hides and leather, she swung her hammer, blonde braid following the motion as she spun in place: the might hammer connected with the ogre's head, crushing it and smattering blood and brain material all over the place! "Since you rolled a natural 20, the ogre is dead on the spot." Cheers can be heard around the table as the game master removes the little plastic figure from the paper map; he is just a bit sad since his ogre had been killed at the first combat round, practically instantly shotted. "Now…" The barbarian panted, spitting on the ground and watched as the goblins scrambled backward, clearly losing the focus the larger ogre had provided. In fact, some started to flee while others, on the opposite, tried another charge. There was a humming from the backline, the scantily clad wizard girl was growing something between her hands and with a "FIERRRR!!!" a might fireball was released. It cruised beside the barbarian, she felt the heat nearly singing her braid, and it hit the goblin's front line! A d20 dice rolls on the table, it tethers on the edge between two numbers before settling on a 17. "Nice roll, you hit, please roll damage" the dungeon master, sitting behind his screen, orders and a set of 8 dices is sent spinning, giving the amount of damage the fireball will deal. Given its amount, the game master groans a second time, he has just been deprived of a sizeable chuck of his goblins! The goblins closest to the point of impact were turned into smoking carcasses while the others, in a spreading radius, went from badly burned to just singed. However, they had barely time to react that a warrior, clad in metal chainmail and plates thrusted forward, a mighty shout coming from his lungs as he swung his long shiny blade! "Looks like your mighty swing goes… just about above the goblins' heads. Looks like you need to keep in mind the heights of your foes." the words of the dungeon master clearly carry some teasing and a set of giggles is heard around the table. The mighty warrior, noble and saviour of the day, just failed quite spectacularly. Only its player wines and grumbles lightly. Bad roll happens. The goblins, decimated by the fireball, without their ogre and vaguely scared by the human warrior, took their cue and scrambled into a messy retreat, leaving behind their wounded and dead, caring more about saving themselves than everything else. Soon enough, the road was once again quiet and the adventurers stood in the middle of the battlefield. "Mmm… nothing worth!" the shady thief, clad in black head to toe, complained with high pitched voice as it rummaged on the dead's bodies. Not one to waste time! "You find 3 crude swords, 5 crude maces, some wooden sticks with spikes and… nothing else of real value. Ah yes, a good quantity of goblin meat, cooked at various levels ranging from burned to underdone. Do you want to do anything with it?" his totally innocent question is met with disgusted groans from all around the table. "I guess no." he takes duly note before he announces that the game would continue… the next week!

[NightDreamer09]

55. Waiting

 

Thunder Porpoise - The Neverwhere

Waiting She said she would come back. Darkness shrouded the bedroom, only the city's neon lights pierced through the curtains, slipping in from the floor to ceiling window on one end of the bed. She was laying there, in the undone bed, with just a dark t-shirt and a pair of grey shorts, staring at the darkness. With disheveled dark hairs and an arm under head, she was looking at the ceiling without seeing it, her mind drifting away. She remembered the excitement of those times. When they had run through the city on the bike, holding to her as they took the highways, peering ahead above her shoulder and helmeted head, getting blinded by the cars running in the opposed direction, feeling the wind wipping past. She remembered when the excitement turned into passions, in that same room. When she felt their leather jackets rubbing against each other, much like their lips, all the while their hands looked to explore the once unknown landscape. She remembered the quietness after the passion. When they laid there, tired but satisfied, enjoying the silent presence of the other. Not worrying about anything else outside the room. Watching people hurry past in the streets below and contemplating the sky as they talked about everything and anything. She had felt alive those moments. She said she was going to come back. She had just to wait. Wait a little longer. The room was warm but she shivered as a tear beaded up on the corner of her eye. She had said to wait, just a little longer. She rolled to the side, pressing the face to the pillow as more tears came up. At that time, she had felt well, she had felt she could do everything she wanted, she felt like that moment would never end, that she would never leave her. But she did. Tears wettened the pillow as she sobbed, unable to hold the tears back. She missed those times so much it made her heart ache. She missed the electricity that run between them, that made every moment worth and exciting, that made the future look bright. Since then, she hadn’t really felt alive anymore. For all the times she tried, for all her efforts, remembering the moment she had said she had to wait, just a little longer, brought tears to her eyes and a pain in her heart. And yet, there was little she could do. She rolled back, breathing as her reddened eyes stared back at the ceiling. She had to wait, just a little more. Why waiting had to hurt that much?

[NightDreamer09]

103. Haiku

 

Haiku is a type of short form poetry originally from Japan. Traditional Japanese haiku consist of three phrases that contain a kireji, or "cutting word", 17 on (phonetic units similar to syllables) in a 5, 7, 5 pattern, and a kigo, or seasonal reference.
- Wikipedia

This was a bit of a particular project I did for a "ingame" writing contest for the game EvE Online: I thought about some haikus and then worked with a Japanese friend to turn them into "real" haikus with Japanese translation and structure.

Haiku 雪の音の 聞こえるほどの 静寂よ Pronunciation: Yu Ki No Ne No Ki Ko E Ru Ho Do No Se I Jya Ku Yo Translation: So quiet i can almost hear the snow. Meaning: New snow falls and lands on top of the snow that has already fallen. I admire the stillness of the place so much that I can almost hear the sound of that snow landing, feeling solemn and a little overwhelmed. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 人知れず 朽ちゆくステーション ここに在り Pronunciation: Hi To Shi Re Zu Ku Chi Yu Ku station Ko Ko Ni A Ri Translation: A station that quietly decays, unknown to anyone, certainly exists here. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ゲート入り 波状の閃光 命を加速 Pronunciation: Gate I Ri Ha Jyo U No Se N Ko U I No Chi Wo Ka So Ku Translation: Gated Wavy flashes Accelerate life Meaning: A gate is sitting quietly in space until an activation make it alight; a ship appears and accelerates away from it, leaving the gate once again quiet and otherwise alone. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 粗い石 レーザー発泡 船倉へ Pronunciation: A Ra I I Shi laser Ha Ppo U Se N So U E Translation: Rough rocks A laser fizzling Go to the hold Meaning: Rough asteroids floats in an asteroid belt; the lasers of a mining ship carve into them and the ore goes filling the ship’s hold. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 渦を巻く 波紋に入り 新世界 Pronunciation: U Zu Wo Ma Ku Ha Mo N Ni Ha I Ri Shi N Se Ka I Translation: Entering the swirling ripples is a new world. Meaning: A wormhole sits in known space: it’s ripples twist the nebula behind it. Entering a wormhole leads into the unknown. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 静かにね ハッキング進行 コンテナ開く Pronunciation: Shi Zu Ka Ni Ne Hacking Shi N Ko U Container Hi Ra Ku Translation: Silence hacking in progress A container opens Meaning: In the silence of wormhole space, there is a ship is hacking a container. The hacking is successful and the container is opened.

[NightDreamer09]

104. Free Agent

 

My entry for the same contest of 103. Haiku but this time in the Prose category.

Free Agent Why you do it? Because I can. That would have been her reply if anyone bothered to ask her why she was a pirate. However, she didn’t define herself a pirate, more like a free agent. Yes, a completely free agent. She pillaged mainly on the Amarrian convoys but it wasn’t due to ideology or a personal feud, it was just because those golden ships simply called for her to loot them up. If that greenish gallentean ones appealed her more, she would have pillaged them too. In fact, she sometimes did. Truth to be told, she pillaged on anything that sparked her interest, regardless of faction or allegiance. She focused on the overlay, giving her a tactical sight of her ship hurtling down the warp tunnel, while she checked the last details. Her body rested in the depths of the Vagabond-class Heavy Assault Cruiser, inside a pod directly connecting her to the ship, making her part of it at a deep level. The warp left her in the shadow of a station, silently sitting in space and gargantuan compared to her ship. She ignored the hails she received from it and sat in silent wait. People called her a pirate, but she didn’t feel she fit in in those more organized groups residing in the furthest corners of New Eden. She considered them no different from the four great Empires, just on a smaller size. She wanted to be free and those organizations were not what she defined as freedom. There it was: the Impel-class transport was slowly accelerating away from the station, having just undocked and cleared the station’s access tunnel. The sun’s light shined on the golden accents of the bulky ship. Right on time, she thought, as she sent her heavy assault cruiser moving from her shadowed position on the opposite side of the station. The prey had entered the field, it was time for the predator to do the same. She had tried, it couldn’t be said she hadn’t. She had enlisted in the military, she had slugged for three years in the mud of useless and backwater planets as they fought against the Amarr, and for what? For nothing. She got discharged, too hot tempered and bad at following the orders, the discharge letter said or something on that line… In her field of view, the overviews gave her plenty of info on the transport but, truth to be told, she didn’t really care about the cargo it was carrying: she only cared about the kill. She ordered her computer to lock on the lumbering ship and by the time the lock beeped complete, she saw the tell tale shimmering of armor hardeners appear on the transport’s hull. Someone wasn’t as stupid as she expected. Not bad. She hadn’t known where to go there and then. She had no qualification, no family and she had left military on unfriendly terms. That’s when the Angels approached her. Quietly but clear: they might be able to help her. Give her… another chance. But it had a price, of course. With nothing to lose, she took it. She was quick: as soon as she got in range, her electronic warfare systems locked on the fleeting transport and activated. Warp wasn’t an option anymore for them. As soon as she had it pinned down and she was in range, her guns started spitting fire. Accommodating people had been around since the dawn of times and the Minmatar Republic wasn’t an exception. They had her go under the scalpel and when she woke up her head hurt like hell, in fact all her body did, but she was on track for more: her spine was ridged with plugs, the plugs for a capsule. They brought her to a station in Curse and, before she even had the time to get used to it all, she was thrown into the viscous liquid filling of a capsule. Her super heated shells started nipping the shield, steadily lowering its strength before starting on the armor. The transport’s engines nozzles lighted up as the pilot activated whatever propulsion module they had to try pull distance on her. Confusing would be an understatement. She suddenly had a greater power than she ever believed she would hold. She was a ship. She was greater than a meat human could ever hope to be. She saw space from a different point of view: not from the mortal eyes of the human body but through a ship’s sensor suites. And she couldn’t die. She had become… immortal. She kept her cruiser orbiting around her prey, her propulsion module keeping up with the transport as she forcefully pushed through that stubborn armor. It was a harder prey than expected, but she wasn’t deterred, not at all. Her eyes were drawn to her scanners, highlighting new ships landing on the field, mainly cruisers and frigates. Coincidence? She didn’t believe so. They had made immortal, but she had to obey their orders as well. She had chosen that path when she agreed with them. Short was the time to get used to her new perception, to her new view of New Eden, going well past her mortal remains, and soon enough she was enlisted to help in many of the Cartel’s project. She run courier as well as shooting capsuleers and other factions alike. She died, only to wake up again. And again. And again. The first time her body would have thrown out more than it could, her mind in disarray after the excruciating pain of the destruction only to wake up again, with the pain of resurrection. Ah… pain, a constant of life. As her shells were nipping at the armor of the transport, things heated up: the alarms in her mind blared as the new group that had been speeding up toward her and the transport started locking on her. The transport had friends. She quickly sent all her guns in overheat: she wouldn’t let them save it. With the pain, a constant each time she died only to resurrect soon after, it came a new understanding. It came the understanding she had reached a position of privilege. A position where she wasn’t to be hold back by mortal chains. She was akin to the gods of old. Then, if so was the case, why had she to be limited by the Cartel’s rules and limitations? By the Four Empires’ ones? The frigates pulled ahead of their bigger, slower companions and she felt the locking alarms turning into the electronic warfare modules alarm: the smaller ships were trying, and succeeding, in tackling her and making a quick escape impossible. They were there for the kill, not just to scare her off. She could respect that. Her shields started to drop but the armor of the transport was dropping as well, falling past the 50% mark. She chose to stay. She started looking for something else. She had repaid her debt: she had died countless times and she had done what they wanted and ordered, it was time for her to crave her own path. She gathered her meagre belongings and jumped ship. She headed toward the unknown, away from the Angel Cartel. But she wasn’t worried, she was a goddess now, she would find the way. Her lips pulled into a feral smile, a smile invisible to anyone but her mind sight, just as her shields started to fail together with her prey’s armor. It was going to be a close call, oh so close. Her ship was fast, orbiting and trying to make it difficult for the enemies to apply damage. However, they were leveraging their greater numbers and their greater electronic warfare capabilities to try kill her before she could kill their friend. And the way presented itself in the shape of the free agent, of the pirate, of the pilot free by any chain or rule, doing only her will and biddings and nobody’s else. She took on jobs for other pilots as well as corporations but only if it suited her at that point of time and space. She started pillaging the space lanes, revelling in the thrill of the hunt and of the kill. In the adrenaline of the modules burning as a kill was rushed to the end. In the pain of destruction and following revival. In being… a goddess. She gritted her teeth as her speed got diminished enough to make her an easier target for those cruisers and battlecruisers. They defanged her of the drones and her modules started to get dangerously close to burnout but she wasn’t going to flee. Oh no. She made herself a name, probably a small one, but she liked that criminal tag nonetheless. She liked how some people tried to hunt her down only to find empty space dust as she had already sped away to other systems and kills. A road that had lead her there and then, tackling that transport and fighting against its defenders. Her armor was nearly gone but she wasn’t worried. She found the cacophony of alarms had a certain beauty to hit. Shields and armor depleting and failing. Modules burning. Electronic warfare wreaking havoc with her systems. The transport was nearly done, she saw his structure starting to melt, the atmosphere and cargo spilling into space as she rammed it. Dead on. She was going to die but it was coming down with her. In those moments, she reached another level, past the physical chains, her mind was focused on that single point of time, on that single shell hitting, piercing metal and flesh alike. And then… painful, burning and glaring light engulfed her before an utterly devoided darkness shrouded her and she was no more. . . . She gasped, her lungs filling with viscous liquid. She squirmed as those last moments flashed in her mind and the pain cursed in her veins like liquid fire, her limbs twitching. The pod opened and she landed on the hard, unforgiving grate below. She retched the viscous fluid as her brain tried to get a grasp on the new reality: a moment before she was a ship, firing away and taking fire, feeling the systems burning up and the hull rupturing as if they were her body and brain… A moment later, she was flesh, full of pain, but only flesh. And alive. Again. Retching shook her body, some things never really changed. She spat the bile, trying to clear her mouth from its taste and pod liquid. Only then, she opened her eyes and her implants came alive, notifying her of the kill added to her roll. The transport had died split seconds before she did. Success. Her lips turned into a savage grin: she had done it again and they hadn’t been able to stop her. Such a priceless feeling.

[NightDreamer09]

40. Rated

 

Something different, I tried to take “rated” not from the side of SFW/NSFW as I originally thought but from the side of giving a value to moments, rating them. The city is mainly inspired by Tokyo. Tried to play a bit with formatting as well.

Rated She yawned as she blinked her eyes open, the sun was sneaking through the curtain and dropping in to warm her. Another day was starting and the alarm clock made sure to have her appraised on such fact. She stretched a hand out to stop it as she breathed, time to get up… Morning Coffee 2/10 I don’t even like it… but you know, you gotta start the day with it? Bloh. Or at least, those were her thoughts as she was curled up on the windowsill, looking through the waking up city with a hot, steaming cup in hand. The day was going to be sunny and warm and she couldn’t but love that. She quickly run through the plans for the day and couldn’t but smile lightly. Plenty ahead of her. Washing your teeth in the morning 10/10 A good habit! While she was washing her teeth, she was already thinking at what to wear for the day. Classy and formal, comfy and sporty, something in between? Such questions! Soon after, she moved to the wardrobe, looking between trousers and skirts, dresses and hoodies, t-shirts and blouses. She ended up to choosing a pair of jeans, not the tight ones, coupled with a bit of an oversized black hoodie with neon prints and a printed t-shirt below. A baseball cap to match held her long hair in check, mostly in check. Her makeup followed but it was a quick work, adding just a tad of highliner, some lipstick and not much else. Outfit of the day 10/10 Love it! Comfy but stylish! The time was clocking and it was time to rush out to work! She grabbed her backpack and left her small, cozy apartment, heading down the stairs before bursting out in the busy street below. It wasn’t that late but the road was already getting crowded with people coming and going. She fell in the flow, letting the sun warm her up some more as she walked to the train station. Morning walk 8/10 The usual but it’s sunny and I got to see the endless variety of life! She waited the usual time in the crowded train station, observing the people coming and going, the way they stood, the way they moved, all the while she caught up with social medias and the morning news. Morning news 3/10 Usual stuff… boring, depressing, oh well. As she boarded the train, she made sure to have a spot where she could look outside the windows, peering at the moving landscape as she headed toward the city center. She kind of treasured such moments, where she saw the world from such a particular point of view. She fished out her phone and recorded a few short videos she would later retouch and post on her socials. She pretty much did the same route nearly everyday but she still very much liked taking such small snapshots of a moving point in time. Morning train ride 8/10 Got some nice shots, otherwise usual quiet, plenty of people still need to wake up on there. She jumped down the train and the sun was in full shine by the time she left the train station. Here the roads were more crowded as she walked to the tall, glass and metal building housing her day job. She greeted the security as she headed past and higher into the building, moving up with a chromed elevator to reach the level where the studio was housed. In there, she greeted the receptionists and fellow coworkers already at their tables or just setting things up. As always with a smile and cheery attitude because it was a sunny morning and thus, it was hopefully going to be a good day! Most of them answered her in kind, a few did not, but there always is the grumpy one, right? Her drawing tablet was the king of her table, with the three screens making its court up, together with prints and models attached above and around them. She fished her laptop from her backpack and in a matter of moments her station was ready to power her through the day! What she missed was… tea! And more sun. She lowered the windows’ covers to let more sun shone inside before she went on the hunt for the office’s kettle. Pleasantries and morning chit chat was exchanged in the office’s small kitchen while she waited for her water to warm up and she spoke with various coworkers. Lisa was such a cute bean; a promising intern that really was striving to be up to the level of her senior counterparts. Jon with the usual manga t-shirt he was so proud of; she, as well a few of the other women, thought he was married to an anime character! Isaac and his big beard, also called Big Beard Isaac, he was the animation guy with a background in IT. Misaki, a fellow concept artist, with such a soft hand at dreamy landscapes. And others! Overall, the mood was looking good that day. Once her water was hot and her teapot ready, she headed back to her table, sitting down to start a busy workday. She started by checking the mails, taking note of various matters on her designs, on the projects and, in general, on things coming and going. “Hello there, baby.” Ellen greeted with her usual playful tone from behind and soon enough she felt her lips smack her cheek “Morning to you too, baby!” she grinned back, turning her chair to answer the kiss with one of her own. Her best friend at work and outside, Ellen was a bit older and had been in the industry for longer, and yet they clicked very well together. Some people would say too well, but they were just envious, the same way they were envious Ellen called her baby and was always nice with her! They chit chatted as she opened the material she needed and she took the chance to ask her about a few questions she had. Once done, Ellen moved back to her station and she was left alone with the pen and the drawing tablet. Morning work startup 10/10 No last minute emails changing things up, no idiots complaining, only nice workable stuff! The morning went fast as she delved into the concept arts she was working on, few and limited distractions interrupting her workflow. She was kind of surprised when Ellen and Margot came to pick her up for lunch “Already?!” she asked with a playfully bewildered expression as she stopped the music carrying her to another world. “Already.” The other two women smirked. Morning work 10/10 Went nice and smooth! She saved everything, locked her station and grabbed her lunch, the one she had prepared the day before: a little nice bento with a mix of rice and vegetables and stuff. They headed out to a street garden a few streets away. They were joined by Stephan and Kayla and they sat, who on the grass, who on a bench, under the rustling cover of a tree. They chatted pretty much about anything and everything as they heated and enjoyed such soft moment of relax. Lunch with coworkers 10/10 Relaxing and pretty good actually! They headed back, enjoying the frisky air before they headed up and back to their respective stations. Her afternoon started with some preparation time for an upcoming presentation: she would present the conceptual artworks she did for one of the projects as well as define the direction she would take with the next ones. She was, as usual, scared and excited at the same time. Such meetings were very important: they were often attended by the clients and the feedback coming from that room would define the next steps of the project. She checked all the pieces as well as her notes, she went through the presentation in her mind and soon enough it was time for her to walk to the other side of the office and face the judgment! She huffed as she walked back to her station, presentation done and a list of to-dos in regard to that project ready to be worked on. They had questioned her on some aspects as well on some pieces that didn’t convince them, while other stuff was praised to be right on the spot. She would say it went… good! Presentation with the boss 8/10 Good but not perfect, you know how it is. Some of the pieces were approved, some rejected, but that’s how it goes! She sat back on her chair and took a moment to breath; she reached for the cup as she turned to look through the window. The sun was slowly going down, bathing them in the last rays of the day. So beautiful… but there was still stuff to be done and thus, she swinged back to focus on work again. The evening came soon enough and it was time for her to leave, saying goodbye to coworkers, smacking a kiss on Ellen’s cheek and heading into the busy darkening streets on her way back home. Afternoon work 8/10 It was good, a bit stressing and so so but in the end, it’s all good! The city took on a different vibe when the sun fell and the darkness shrouded its high thorns. Her eyes danced on the glowing signs and the cars’ headlights as she walked back to the train station. While the train carried her back, together with many other tired salarymen, she caught up a bit with socials and the world’s happenings. Her small apartment welcomed her home with a suffused light and she flopped on her couch for a slow moment of relax. Her day was far from over because she had a date, oh yes, but she had plenty of time as well to get ready. She giggled between herself at the thought: she kind of already knew how things would go and end up but still… He was good looking, he was nice and albeit she kind of preferred girls… she did not mind from time to time to have an outing with a manly man. She got up and stretched, before reaching for her wardrobe in preparation for the most complex task of the day! How to dress for the evening out?! She smiled as she looked though blouses and long dresses, she wasn’t in mood for the punky alternative girl that night so dress it was! After she choose what to dress, she took a quick shower to refresh herself before her apartment saw her in all her naked glory… she giggled lightly as she sat on the bed and started dressing up. The dark underwear, the skin-tight stockings, and the dark blue long dress with the right amount of split below and opening above. She brushed her hairs and combed them up, she put more makeup than in the morning and by the time she looked at herself in the mirror, she was a stunning woman ready to impress, or distract, depending on the point of views, many men, and women as well. The matching heels arose her that few centimetres in a way she very much liked, a shawl covered her shoulders in anticipation of the cooling night. The small pursue held all the necessary to conquer the world. Now she only had to wait. The evening’s outfit 10/10 I’m hot as f***, I know. He came a little early but, albeit she was ready already, she had him wait that pair of minutes, you know, just to test him a little bit. She graced him with her presence and at first impact, he was truly charming, walking with her, speaking with the right tone and all. And he was dressed perfectly with dark shirt and jacket, stylish but still classy. He called for a taxi and they headed for the classy district of the city, a dinner already reserved and only waiting for them. They talked and laughed, he truly was doing his best to have her comfortable, trying to be funny without overdoing it, agreeing with her without sounding obsequious. The restaurant he led her to was high in the sky, with a great view on the night city. One of those places where no dress meant no entrance. The presentation was stunning and simply perfect, from the place itself, to the staff, to the table and even to the food. They had sushi and sashimi, organized in small portions neatly arranged on perfect plates. She was kind of unsure the food would be that good, sometimes being all expensive and classy did not mean good food, but on that case… she had to admit the food was good. And albeit the portions were small, at the end, she did feel nicely full, without being too full. Dinner 10/10 Gotta say, I was skeptical, but it was good, oh so good. Throughout the dinner they kept on talking, clearing a topic after another, taking the long away around for the real target of the evening. However, neither complained and she liked to delve a bit more into who was sitting on the other side. He so charmingly paid for it all… she managed to pay for the coffee, with quite some insistence. They took some time to walk on the street, keeping on talking, letting people see them and watching others, crossing invisible paths with many other couples and groups out for the evening. He sounded and she perceived him good enough. Worth a try. They headed back and she led him upward to her cozy nest, letting the door close behind them. Even in it, with the moment heating up, he was careful and considerate. His hands touched and gripped without hurting, he explored slowly, he took care of having her enjoy it all before going all in, giving it all. Ohhh… She lay in bed, naked but for the thin bed sheet wrapped halfway over her body. She breathed slowly, listening to the night’s sounds. He was gone already, as she had expected; only a faint smell persisted, the smell of their passions and of him. Him 7/10 A good 7! He is okay and it was good, he did everything right… only it’s hardly something memorable long term. She licked her lips as she pulled herself up and couldn’t but walk for a moment to the window, looking through the glass to the rest of the city, standing there, naked, in contrast to the light from outside, and letting her thoughts drift away as they retraced the day that was ending. The evening 8/10 Not too bad, the food was good! And he paid most of it, so… why complain?! She left the window to move to the bathroom: it was time for a routine moment of hers. She had the water warm up and soon enough she was under the hot stream, letting it wash away the remains of their passion as well as her sweat. Given the typology of most of her hot encounters, she really treasured those late night showers. They helped her in focusing again toward the next day, as well as feeling kind of clean and fresh. Hot shower after sex 10/10 Always a great feeling! She dried herself off and she took a long moment to contemplate the city outside, with its neon signs, its lights winking and the few vehicles coming and going. She kind of liked its vibe, its sleeping and yet never really sleeping, the bustling activity and how in just a few steps you could find yourself elsewhere. But late it was and she had to wake up the next day; to sleep she went, leaving the land of the real to dive into the land of the dreams. At least for a little while. The day 8/10 Day was good!

[NightDreamer09]

105. Planetary Colony

 

As with other works, this one is an entry for YC124 New Eden Capsuleer’s Writing Contest, submitted, Academic category, for the game EvE Online. I tried to explore a mix between a technical report of sort and fiction; I have to admit I'm quite proud of the result.

I wanted to dive a bit into how planetary colonies were built and operated, a theme I feel it is rarely touched. I focused a bit more on the logistic side of things: I imagined a set of diagrams and procedures behind PI and the construction of colonies.

The logic behind the different crews is that, as in real life, who builds is often not the same operating what had been built: who builds a power plant is not the same operating it, who builds IT infrastructures are not the same operating them on a day to day basis. I think building a colony requires knowledge and specializations that would see a limited use in an established colony and thus, I defined a differentiation between building and operations crews.

The faces are left without definition on purpose. They are engineers, biologists, technicians… whatever their profession and role, they are people: they could be white or black, woman or men, blonde or dark haired. I choose to let the reader fill in those faces.

The inspiration to dive into a bit of “world building” came from Zedicon Prime’s History of the Temperate Worlds of Helab and Eras of Soliara III.

Establishing an industrial colony: a journal Author: Sawa Laboratories Version: 1.0 Last revision: 04/05, YC124 Index Prologue Lava - Part 1 Barren - Part 1 Storm - Part 1 Temperate - Part 1 Interlude Lava - Part 2 Barren - Part 2 Storm - Part 2 Temperate - Part 2 Interlude Lava - Part 3 Barren - Part 3 Storm - Part 3 Temperate - Part 3 Prologue “We need a more direct access to resources to cut costs, makes us more independent and flexible and last, but not least, it could represent a possible new source of revenues.” The blonde and red haired Achuran woman spoke as she leaned back in the form fitting chair, at the head of the table. “Why not try to establish a few colonies?” the proposal came from the mohawked woman sitting to the right of the first, lounging back and peering through the hologram to the other people sitting around the table. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea… if every planet wasn’t already colonized far and wide?” the point was raised by a dark haired woman sitting straight and composed. All the planets in high security space were indeed already colonized and, for a small corporation like Sawa Laboratories, they wouldn’t represent a profitable operation. “In Empire’s space.” The reply came as a grin started spreading on those dark lips. “Null security space is not an option.” A dark skinned woman with dreads spoke quietly but self assured from her seat facing the mohawked one. “I wasn’t thinking of null security space…” the grin that had been blossoming on the mohawked woman’s face had spread in full swing. ~ <> ~ A solar system hovered above the table with seven planets slowly rotating around the central K5 star; the same women of not long ago sat around the table. “We have six planets: planet II and IV are barren ones, planet I is a magmatic one due to its proximity to the star, planet III is temperate, planet V and VI are storm planets and ultimately we have a gas giant at the edge of the system.” the mohawked woman spoke as it rose from its chair, starting illustrating her proposal. The spinning system was substituted by tables and data on every planet “Our best bet are the lava and the barren planets for the materials we need; the first draft of the colonization plan prioritizes these three planets, followed by the storm ones and the temperate one.” The planets tables changed into a list of materials accompanied by market data “By market research my team conducted, we could devote part of our colonies and efforts to build for the market itself. This list of products could represent the revenue source we are searching for. There is competition as in all things where there is an open market but my team is confident it can work.” “All of that is in a wormhole system, how will you stage in there?” was the curious question of the black haired woman; wormholes were particular system and brought with them quite some challenges. “In this target system we have a citadel station managed by other capsuleers. By preliminaries contacts, we can stage from it. We cannot use it extensively, but we only need a logistic staging to dock up and store the materials in transit. It will be a just-on-time delivery: we will pick products up from the planets just in time and ship them outside the wormhole as soon as possible. Some of us had been there before, we know how to deal with such particular environment.” A moment of silence shrouded the room as everyone thought on the project that was being presented, thought of the risks and possible gains, of the impacts and problems the operational groups they headed would face. “The initial investment is limited but the possible returns make this project worth a try.” “Do we have the crews to build there?” was the question asked by the black-skinned woman: a project on paper was nice, but had they what was needed to build it for real? “We can recruit them. If the pay is good, we won’t have troubles finding the right people and we still have some contacts from our previous colonization projects, people of experience.” This time it was the Achura woman that spoken, anticipating the mohawked one. The dark haired woman thoughtful gaze deepened “So in the end, it boils down to the relatively huge risk of loosing contact with them and/or loosing the products while on transit.” “Pretty much so.” The black skinned woman smiled, clearly savouring the oncoming challenge “Sounds good.” [Figure 1: The standard production chain for planet-side colonies] Lava – Part 1 “What a place.” As far as eyes could reach, the landscape was a charred and barren one, with only the glowing streaks of super heated lava lighting the place up. The sky was as dark as the ground, if not darker, with thick clouds covering the sun and the strange nebula that surrounded the system; the air was full of dust and ash, with the smell of lava, a smell that even with respirators managed to get through. “They couldn’t choose a better place, could they?” “It could have been worse, it could have been a plasma planet, with those plasma storms making it all charred!” “Ah, not sure it would have been worse…” The building crew quit their chit chatting as the industrial drone appeared above them, a cargo container tightly in its grasp, ready to land. “There we are.” The drone hovered and started to descend, touching down with a puff of ash. Its clamps let the container go and it moved back up, heading back toward the main landing area. “Get to work guys, the next one will be here soon enough.” “Yes, sir!” was the chorus reply as people. They were going to take measurements, clear and flatten the area, readying it up for the bigger prefabricated structures that were being shipped down from orbit. The main danger on such planet was the planet itself: given its proximity to the system’s star, the planet was considered a solar magmatic where its surface was never able to cool enough to solidify. The practical risk was that the ground on which the buildings stood turned into lava. To counter that, the areas below and around the installations were the most watched and controlled; in case the planet decided it really had to liquify that area, the installations were usually lifted and moved to the next patch of solid ground. The heat of a planet so close to its star and so restless was usually dealt with heath proof materials and solutions such as oversized cooling systems able to dissipate heat, even in such a heated environment. And the smell, a key characteristic of lava planets was the smell: it went everywhere, it clung everywhere, even with air scrubbers and sealed environments. Most people got used to it, sooner or later. Barren – Part 1 “I can feel the dryness.” While suits kept a stable environment around their wearers, barren planets did that effect: their dry, rocky landscape with no water nor green in sight felt like a planet wide, dry desert. The thin atmosphere did not help. “That’s the effect they do.” was the reply as the building crew followed and supervised the building drones crawling and raising dust all around. Those barren planets were relatively easy to set up: minimal if no weather, no flora and fauna, just bring down the construction drones and let them work. The main problems were the dust, clogging filters and clinging everywhere and the thin atmosphere, making it hard to breath without respirators and bringing a lower pressure. The construction drones were huge, automous machines able to conduct a series of construction tasks, from digging and landscaping to putting down structures, all following a pre defined plan. With the human component of the crew limited to a supervising role, being assigned to barren planets was mostly a vacation, where the biggest action most crews saw was machines breaking down and needing repair. One of the huge drones was left a few tenth of meters from the crew and they watched as it powered up: it opened up, extending appendix and radiators, opening up vents and going through its set up phase. Through this, the central computer updated its tasks and timeline and soon enough, it started working, starting with a preliminary digging and flattening of the area. “Machines of constructions…” Storm – Part 1 “I don’t know why but I feel like I got a weight on my shoulders.” “It’s the high pressure atmosphere. But it’s the least, wait to see the electric storms” was the reply of one of the veterans. “Mmm… Should I look forward to it?” “Maybe! If you like big lightnings turning unshielded things to charred remains, sure!” the laugh was deep, the laugh of someone that had already see the majesty of the electric storms that rolled through storm planets. Those storms were continent wide ones, releasing energy from the high pressure atmosphere down toward the rocky ground. The main defence was building below ground, using the rocking core of the planet as shield and leaving outside the least assets possible. Above ground remained energy and resource collectors, weather stations and the few openings that let people, machines and materials reach the surface and the orbit. For the few structures that had to sit above ground, protections that took the energy and redirected it to the ground, shielding what was inside, were the most used; an example of such technologies were the Faraday shields. The presence of fauna and flora were usually non existents and they weren’t counted as a factor. When building a new colony, the key element was time: the sooner they could dig under the surface, the sooner the risk to the crew, both organic and mechanical, would be lowered to acceptable levels. The huge mole drones were burrowing themselves with plumes of dust while building drones waited with preassembled shielded locks ready to be applied once the excavations were deep enough: the goal was to seal the growing caverns from the electric surface. Once done, the building crews would expand below ground and resurface only for the smallest timeframes to put in place extractors and other structures that needed to remain above ground. Temperate – Part 1 “You know, I’m tempted to ask for a transfer to planet-side operations.“ the tone was a playful one and it was clear why: the crew was walking on a sand beach, with tropical trees lining it on one side and a blue sea on the other. “Hard to blame you, to be honest.” The reply was from one of the engineers that was letting the sight span over the watery horizon. The sun shined bright and the beach was kissed by crystal clear water. “We got a good assignment, at least when off duty we can chill on the beach.” Such statement rose a few giggle and laughs. Of all the crews deployed by Sawa Laboratories, they did feel they had been the most lucky ones: temperate planet, no extremely dangerous fauna and flora, headquarter on a small island like continent and close to a beautiful beach. It couldn’t be any better, couldn’t it? Temperate planet were considered some of the easiest to colonize, with an environment favourable to the human crews; however, they still present some dangers, mainly in the form of flora and fauna. There were both tales and hard evidences of both flora and fauna giving a hard time to colonization. But that wasn’t the case. The flora was mostly harmless and the fauna seemed to stay clear of the noisy colonization operations. The constructions drones were opening the forest up, cutting down trees and laying down the foundations for the new industrial colony while a few hovered and dived into the ocean. Interlude “Planet I, II and IV are established and started operations about 6 hours ago. On planet V and VI we are finishing the set up phase and we expect to start in the next 12/24 hours. Planet III is running behind due to some resource limitations we did not expect; we still expect to become operation somewhere in the next 3/4 days.” There was a brief pause “Overall, we are on time with the schedule and the costs had not gone over the budget we had allocated.” “That’s good.” “We plan to have the first shipping test for the first three planets in 3 days: we will have the first products packaged and sent to orbit where they will be picked up by our transport. We will then ship them out to Jita 4-4.” “Looks like everything is following the plan.” “Pretty much.” Those words were matched by a smile, it was always good when projects progressed smoothly. There was still a lot to be done, but the setup phase was one with the most unaccountable risks: you could plan and observe a planet from afar so much and yet, when going down, things could turn in different and unplanned ways. Lava - Part 2 The blocky structures were barely visible on such a dark world, as black as the charred ground, with their lava-proof feet sinking deep into the scorched crust. The lava was everything: it provided energy, in the form of geothermal one, and it provided with the resources to build the final products as well. The metals were divided and selected while still in a superheated fluid form and then sent directly to refining. The cavernous building were hot and no technician could walk without thermal protections between the long steaming lines of the rolling area or, even less, in the super heated areas that saw the molten metal itself. The whole planet was a hot furnace. The building crew was gathering to the landing pad, the concrete brightly lit and the shuttles waiting there, ash flitting down in the lights. “That’s it.” The head of the building crew concluded after he had briefed his counterpart on the plant and its construction. “You did a good job.” “Thank you, my crew is one of the best and we had built on similar planets before.” “Your shuttle is waiting then.” “Have a good work.” Those who remained had to have balls, so far away from known space, running a factory in such a devilish environment. He kind of understood why some of them did it, but at the same time he couldn’t get to do it himself, he preferred to build them and then go back to known space for some rest and easier construction tasks before heading back into the unknown for another dangerous assignment. Once everyone was onboard, the shuttle powered up and took off: the plant wasn’t very visible in the ash and darkness, only the light spots broke the reddish darkness, but it was there, between burning rivers. Barren – Part 2 Dust swirled close to the ground while that same dust arose in plumes in the thin air from the ongoing mining operations. The ground was excavated, the rock crushed and turned into powder before going through refining to extract the target metals. Without many worries for the environment, already mostly sterile, the industrial operation was at the center of vast open pit mining: huge excavators and trucks, all automated and with minimal human supervision, dug into the ground, into deepening spirals. The refining happened in clattering and noisy industrial sheds and the residuals, all materials with no real value, piled up at a safe distance from the colony, the lighter parts taking flight in the feeble wind. The human element of the operation concentrated in the true core of the colony: a group of pre fabricated modules that housed the command center, as well as living quarters and all that went around making humans comfortable in such a remote colony. “Next one has to be an ocean planet, I want to feel soaked.” “You know you will regret it in just a few days there?” “I don’t care, I’m tired of this dryness.” The last constructions drones were being lifted up while the new excavation drones were being brought down from orbit, all in expanding clouds of brownish dust. It was the moment where the building crews was leaving to give space to the running crews and their machines. They watched from above the plant sprawling on the plain and the excavation drones starting to work, starting to eat the ground and the hills in pursue of the minerals hiding there, under the dusty surface. Storm – Part 2 While above ground an electric storm raged, down below the colony was in full operation. Buried deep into the rocky crust, there was a sprawling group of caves that housed everything ranging from industrial operations to relaxation areas. The crew manning the colony rarely saw the outside from their sheltered base: the only parts that were visible on the surface where the entrances, especially the ones for the cargo vessels, and the parts tasked with collecting plasma and ionic solution. The refining of both products happened below, in the safety of a controlled environment: the plasma was turned into Plasmoids, natural and self-sustaining structure made of plasma, while the ionic solution was turned into electrolytes. Those were lengthy processes but as many other processes, they were ones that benefitted hugely from the automation that pervaded those industrial outposts. In such a controlled environment, computer and drones made most of the works, from extraction to loading the cans of materials into the waiting cargo ships that would bring it up to orbit. “You’re clear to depart.” The huge maw like doors were slowly opening on the cloudy sky. They had built what they had been tasked with, they delivered a fully function colony to the crew that would run it long term: their work was done. “The electric storms were impressive, but I won’t really miss them. Can’t wait to be able to get out without having to worry turning into an electrically fried fedo.” “I feel that.” Temperate – Part 2 The main part of the colony arose in the luscious forest shrouding the small continent but a key extension stretched out into the ocean diving their land mass from another one of similar size. The ocean was needed for its water, technically considered aqueous liquid given the presence of other elements in suspension, which was refined into pure water, H2O, to be used in the growth of bacteria as well as for export toward water-poor colonies. Into light infused rooms of a blinding white, rows after rows of bacteria were grown, submerged into growth solutions to become test cultures. Once at the right age, those test cultures were put into stasis, in a similar way to how pilots’ clones were kept at ready, and then shipped to orbit. Boots clanged on the metal walkaway attached to the side of one of those arms into the ocean “So you got the transfer?” “Yup, I’ll be one of the engineers that will keep this place running.” The two technicians paused as they opened one of the maintenance hatches, peering into a console that reported about one of the huge filters through which the ocean water was pushed to. “Looks all good, there is a higher concentration of bio materials, that’s probably what triggered the alert.” “Indeed.” “Won’t you feel alone, the colony is not that big. And well, you are where you are.” There was a glance stolen toward the blue horizon filled with endless ocean. “Not really, the beaches are good and I’ll take this as a bit of a slow time. These colonies are built in such a way most of the work is taken care by drones and computer, but good technicians are still needed and the perks are pretty good after all.” “I see. Good luck.” “Thank you.” There was a smile with those words. Interlude “Construction is concluded and each plant reports they are operational. As planned, they started with a halved production capacity and we will steadily increase it in the oncoming days to reach full capacity two weeks after the start of the operations.” Above the table hovered a hologram summarizing the statistics for each planet they had been colonizing, as well as production statistics that showed a clear ramp up in a relatively short timespan. Those data changed as they were substituted by different tables and graphs, this time reporting on the internal needs of Sawa Laboratories for materials. “The shipping test, as said before, had been a success. The products were up to market standards and the part intended for the open market had sold relatively quickly. Internally, we expect we will be able to completely satisfy the need for test cultures, biocells and metals. This will lower our running expenses and our reliance on the open market.” Lava - Part 3 The two technicians walked in front of row after row of pallets sitting under the stark lights: each one heavy with reactive metal blocks waiting for further refining. Those pallets were waiting to be turned into girders and other metal structures to be used in constructions ranging from space stations and colonies to ships and drones. “We are building a stash of reactive metals.” said one of the two, consulting a tablet with tables and numbers of production and consumption rates. “Yeah, we are producing more than we are using, but it’s not a bad thing. We can always export if we make too much surplus.” They stopped as a cargo drone moved close to them, lumbering on its repulsor fields till it floated above one of the pallets: clamps slid down and they grasped the pallet tightly, before they lifted it up and away. “Pallet 20345. For girder production, type 134. Used into stations.” Recited the tablet holding technician as it inspected the data the computer had on that specific pallet. The production was tracked from extraction to shipping: each pallet was numbered and the metal blocks on it counted; once they became construction blocks, each block would be numbered as well. Each production had a specific profile and throughout the chain, it was always possible to track what had gone where. [Figure 2: Detail of the building blocks production chain] Barren – Part 3 The biocells were ordered in racks, five rows of five cells each on top of the other. Multiples racks went on filling the shipping containers that would bring them up to orbit and then to their market of choice. As the biocells were self contained and needed only limited form of isolation from one another, the racks could be stacked close to each other for the maximum space efficiency. A technician came closer to a rack and with one of his tools, he inspected one of the biocells, checking its id, production chain and status: ID: L14598R3456 Production Line: 1 Production chain: [click for details] Rack ID: 3456 Time in depot: 1h 34m 12s Status: OK [click for more info] They conducted random checks in addition to the quality checks that the production chain did already at various steps before sitting those batteries on one of those racks, waiting for shipping. “And this one is good as well. What about yours?” he called out to another technician standing a few rows deeper into the depot. “This one is good as well.” She replied as she made her way back. “We got a relatively quiet assignment this time.” Those words were met by a nod as they walked past row after row of biocells. They headed to where the loading bays opened, where the dust slipped inside together with the loading drones. “It’s kind of alienating landscape, I’d say.” She commented as they stopped by and looked outside one of the huge doors, now opening for the loading of an incoming cargo shuttle. It was brownish greyish and dust, till eyes could see. Only the mining operations broke the otherwise barren landscape. He nodded but he didn’t otherwise speak. One of the loader drones moved close to them, reaching for one of the containers, lifting it up in its grasp as it readied for the loading operations. The automated cargo shuttle arose clouds of dust as it hovered closer and its cargo bay doors filled the open door. The cargo shuttle sat down and powered off before it opened its cargo bay; dust hadn’t settled yet that the drones were already moving to load container after container of fresh new biocells, heading for the furthest corners of New Eden. The activity and movements kind of broke the moment and the two technicians took their leave, letting the drones work as they left the loading area, heading for their next task. [Figure 3: Detail of the biocells production chain] Storm – Part 3 “Sometimes it feels like we are sitting on top of a huge bomb ready to explode at the smallest vibration.” It was a comment spoke with playfulness but it had a gem of truth; visible from the observation tunnel, rows after rows of huge, reinforced cans sat in silence. Container sized, they were engineered to resist most forms of impact, high temperatures, and electrical activity during storage and transportation. Loaded in a sealed environment which was kept under pressure and filled with a special mix of gasses to stop and limit an eventual leak, each can contained several hundred thousand liters of severely volatile fuel. An overhead crane slowly brought another can of freshly loaded fuel on top of the pile. Grounded vehicles such as overhead cranes were preferred to repulsor powered ones as those energy fields had a risk to interact with the content of the cans. When a depot housed hundreds, if not thousands, of cans full of volatile fuel, everything was done to avoid a chain reaction of any kind. All the production chain was run in a sealed environment and technicians could cirectly access the production areas only when they weren’t running: inspections were run remotely through the use of drones. The only exception was the shipping depot where technicians could enter for routine checks. The technicians took off and the observation tunnel turned white as they left the shipping depot “This really isn’t a place for claustrophobic people.” Spoken as a comment, it really was a matter of fact: the technicians were walking through one of the many tunnels that connected the various areas built in the crust of the storm planet. “Yeah. To be honest, sometimes I miss the open skies.” The most skies a colony like that one saw where the virtual ones built on top of the larger caverns with the exact purpose of helping the people feels less the fact they were into a cavern, tens if not hundreds of meters below the surface. “In fact, I think I’m going to ask for a bit of vacation on Planet III, they said they have quite a nice place to chill. You know: beach, palms and sun, that kind of stuff.” “Ah, that sounds like a great idea!” [Figure 4: Detail of the rocket fuel production chain] Temperate – Part 3 The biologists were dressed in white environmental suits as they inspected the rounded, transparent boxes filled with test cultures. Such cultures grew by themselves, computers took care of monitoring and keeping the delicate balance of the growth solutions but the technicians still kept an eye on them. “This one needs a check.” The technician said shining light on the growth culture and removed it from its rack, putting it on a little cart, together with others. Some of those test cultures removed from the main line were scrapped, others would be set in specific container for specific uses, some would even be used for on site testing. Once the check was over, the technician signalled the computer and the rack of test cultures moved outside the staging chamber to proceed to the statis stage where they would be prepped for transport. The stasis stage slowed the biological functions of the test cultures enough that they could survive a long journey across New Eden. Achieved by a mix of chemicals and environmental control, it happened in a perfectly sterile environment, where the human element was allowed only in full coverings and in special cases. Other parts of the chain had less strict rules: in the growth area the biologist walked around wearing white coats, gloves, masks and boots protections, while in the shipping depot there really weren’t such rule since the test cultures were already sealed away safely. Coming out of stasis, that last rack was moved by a loading drone to the environmentally controlled container. Once it retreated, the container hissed closed as the on board computer sealed it and stabilized the internal atmosphere, readying it up for transport. Each container was numbered with a letter tuple, determining its destination, and a number, univocally defining the single container. The one that had just sealed was marked as Container CI2367, bound for one of Sawa Laboratories’ plants in Caldari space. The container slipped out of the loading berth and an overhead crane reached out to pick it up, stacking it on top of others. Each pile line had a specific destination, either internal or the open market, and each internal marked line had different geographical destinations. They would wait in the environmentally controlled depot till enough where ready to be moved up in orbit. All the energy spent to keep the areas at stable conditions was done to try limit the stress put on the content of the containers themselves: the internal energy supply risked being depleted if they faced too harsh conditions. “In case outside it gets too hot…” the off hand comment of one of the technicians had a teasing undertone but it wasn’t false either: when outside the sun shined and the temperature rose, inside the colony the temperature was stable and constant and kind on the chiller side of things in certain areas, such as the shipping depot. “Ah true!” was the smiled reply. Being around the equator they did not expect temperatures to go close to 273 degrees Kelvin at any point during the solar year, but on the opposite, statistics based on satellite observations expected temperatures as high as 313 degrees Kelvin. [Figure 5: Detail of the test cultures production chain] Epilogue Jita 4-4, the busiest spaceport of the whole cluster, you couldn’t find a busiest port anywhere else. A hive of endless activity as people and pilots came from the furthest corners of New Eden to trade and mingle in the cosmopolitan throng living on the station. In the multitude of ships coming and going, a lone transport headed for one of the many docking ports. It glided silently through the external shields and deeper into the station, till it reached its assigned docking bay. Clamps extended and clung to the transport as it docked, tightly locking it in its berth. Once connections were established, the transport’s airlocks hissed open “Man… I kind of miss Colony III, now.” The words had a tone of amusement as the crew got out of the hulking ship and into the docks proper. The berth was mostly quiet, with loading drones and dock crews waiting and not much else but outside, they could see ships and shuttles coming and going, building sized billboards and deck after deck of teeming activity. Albeit from afar, Jita 4-4 felt busy. They had touched the metal deck by only minutes that the transport’s cargo bays hissed open, revealing their content: rows after rows of containers, differently marked depending on their content. Heavy duty drones and port crews moved forward, ready to start unloading the transport. In a matter of minutes, the docking berth become a flurry of activity as the unloading blossomed in full swing, with drones moving up and down the ramps, pile of cargos appearing on the decks and moving around as shipping manifests were inspected and choices were made. Above the bustling dock and cargo area, a few figures observed the busyness below from the observation walkaways “The first full load is here, at last. We already set up sell orders on the open market, we are hopeful we will cash soon.” “Very well.” ~ <> ~ Many building crews worked on contracts: they went out to far away planets to build new colonies and then when the contract expired and the work was done, they were free to leave. Each round, some would remain on whatever planet they were building on, transitioning from building crews to operations crews, taking roots in often difficult environments. Many, on the opposite, returned to central hubs like Jita, ready to take on a new contract or return to their home planets. A few of the original building crews hired by Sawa Laboratories had transitioned, the perks made the transition worth, if one enjoyed whatever planet they were going to be stationed with, that is. Most of them, had been returning to known space in multiple waves, the last one finally breathing the cosmopolitan air of Jita 4-4. “Now, what’s next?” one of the crews asked, as they sat at a bar. Working in such remote places turned building crews into tight knit groups, with a connection that run deep under the surface. “Vacation time, somewhere well connected.” It was spoken with an amused tone, it couldn’t be said their last contract had been well connected to the rest of New Eden. “Just a short break from me while I look for a new contract.” Some came and some went, some remained together over multiple contracts, some split up after an assignment, never to meet again. That was the life of building crews, seeing remote places while building new colonies. However, they all shared such connection, telling them they belonged, belonged to the daring crews that built humanity’s outpost in the furthest corners of New Eden. The operations crews were different, most of them were in for the long run, colonizing and living there with limited interests in going back to their planets of origin. They were an heterogenous group: people who escaped their pasts, their present or their families, people that were in for the perks and the money, people that were in for the solitude, people that were in for the adventure that living in a far away planet was. As building crews looked to the next contract and vacation, to the next faraway place, the operations crews looked to make their far away outposts livable and comfortable while they cared for the industrial operations they had been handed over. Different lives but both tied to each other by the push of humanity to colonize further and further.

[NightDreamer09]

106. Summer afternoon

 

OOC Originally written for Summer 2022 Short Story Competition . I planned to use a random roll; I started working on it but then... the "standard" theme kind of caught up and sparked the right idea and I just wrote... when it happens, there really is little to do. While I wanted to hold it back a little more, I feel it won't get any better and there are more deadlines oncoming so, there we go. It's about summer, having a good time, love, beachvolley and nice people.

Summertime Summer afternoon [2592 words] The sun was hot, a burning gas ball hanging in the sky, but while the technical connotations made it a machine of destruction, a furnace of the gods and melter or atoms, on the beach, right there and then, with the sea breeze lightly brushing her tanning skin… it didn’t feel as deadly. She leaned back, putting weight on her outstretched arms as she looked out to the sea, past the shoreline, toward the surfers and even past, gazing to the little white triangles of sails coming and going. Under the dark shades of her glasses, her eyes danced between sails and surfers, to anywhere and nowhere as her thoughts drifted on the breeze and the waves coming to wash the shoreline. Her skin was tanning, slick with sweat and sun screener. She used to not really like sun tanning, and in general just hanging out on the beach but things had changed: she didn’t love it with all her heart, but… she kind of enjoyed it. She laid back on the beach towel and she closed her eyes. It was a relaxing time, if nothing else: letting the sun warm her and turn her hotter, if some beauty standards were to believed, let the thoughts drift and do as they pleased. A shadow loomed over her and it woke her up from her light dozing off: she rose her sunglasses some to see who was the culprit for shadowing her and she was met with a smiling pair of dark purple sunglasses, wide and squared in shape “Hey there, babe~” If she was ready for a snappy remark on the fact her personal space was being shadowed, that smile with those sunglasses and the flocks of purple hairs made it all melt like wasted ice cream forgotten in the sun. “Hello there.~” she rose on one elbow as Lyla, her girlfriend, put down her bag and beach towel beside her and leaned to brush her lips on hers “General Kenobi.” Lyla whispered playfully and she couldn’t but burst out laughing: such line just couldn’t get stale! “You know I have to do it.” Lyla replied with a big grin as she sat down on the beach towel with a sun screen bottle magically appearing in her hand. “Had been waiting for long?” Lyla asked with a smile as she started putting the slick paste on her arms, legs and chest. Behind the sunglasses, her light blue eyes followed Lyla’s hands and she couldn’t but admire her lover each and every time. For her it was the most beautiful woman there could ever be. “Nah, not that much. Just enough to get nice and hot.” She smiled; she knew that Lyla had come as soon as she could, and she didn’t make a problem of it. She reached for the sunscreen’s bottle and her lover rolled on her belly “I see.” Lyla said letting her do. It was those moments that had made her warm up to the beach time: those moments that from purely mechanical ones turned into intimate moment of sorts, with a soft feeling in their simplicity. Her hands worked on Lyla’s shoulders massaging before they slide down to the back and those sides. They left a playful squeeze on those shapely cheeks before they headed even further down to massage those shaped thighs first and then the legs. “There!” she smiled closing the bottle with a snap and landing it in the open bag. She leaned forward to brush her lips on an ear poking through the few strands free of the purple bum before she moved herself back on her own beach towel. “How was work?” she asked as she leaned back, a hand casually searching for Lyla’s one: their fingers entwining on the warm sand. “Ah, well… usual?” came the reply with a bit of a sardonic tone “For the main project, we got to put down the specification document, but getting the info we need sometimes feel like we have to pull them out with a grappling hook from their throats.” “For the other project… I sometimes wonder why they are still alive. They want a lot of stuff and they barely know where they are…” she would have shrugged if she hadn’t been laying on her belly “But yeah, usual.” She concluded, flashing a light smile in her lover’s direction. She let Lyla speak and vent a bit, she didn’t mind that: Lyla was in a sector that was kind of crazy. However, that same work brought in quite some cash and let them afford days like that so, as long as it remained manageable, it was worth. When it crossed that invisible line… it would be time to change work, but they would think about it in due time. “I see.” She replied simply, giving a squeeze of that hand. Work was work: it could be nice and all, it could be what someone had studied and liked, but it still was a pain in the ass and a source of stress. They had discussed about that a lot and more: they had discussed if it was worth it all, if they shouldn’t just throw everything out of the door and take a one way ticket to some forgotten island somewhere and live a life of fish and chill, they discussed if they shouldn’t just give it away and leave an easy life with others’ money. There had been plenty of wishful thinking but they both knew all such thinking wouldn’t fix the world nor it would be the best for them. They were too strong and independent, too used to not having to bow to anyone to choose the way, they were too used to being able to say they had worked hard and now they were enjoying the fruits of such hard work, and, in the end, they liked the city. They had met there and it had all the things they wanted. She smiled: if someone heard them talking about work they might get the wrong idea as they often complained and it wasn’t the smooth kind of work, but the truth was that they were having a good life. It wasn’t perfect, but perfection was practically unreachable and they knew it. She rolled and breathed slowly: she was happy, and she knew Lyla was too. “Wanna burn some of the work’s **** with a match?” she asked as a grin blossomed on her lips: the easiest way for Lyla and her to push work away was to focus on something and exercise, letting the muscles ache as they were pushed to the limits. For them, beach also meant beach volleyball! Lyla took a moment to reply, her eyebrow raising lightly “You really don’t want to let me breath and chill, don’t you?!” she asked in mock tiredness. “Get up baby, or I’m gonna spank you!” “The threats!” ~<>~ She dived into the warm sand, making it spray around her as her outstretched arm tried to catch the yellow, blue and white ball falling from the sky. She barely made it: her forearm sent the ball back up in the air, for Lyla to make it bounce to the other side of the field. However, she didn’t really have time to rest as she had to scramble up from the sand, to jump even higher, past the net’s line to try block the oncoming spike. It hit her hand on the side and for as much as she tried to hold it still, she felt give it giving way as her elevation started dropping. Cheers erupted from the opposing team as the ball hit the ground inside the field, scoring a point for their opponents. Glancing and scolding at the ball, she huffed “Duh.” She had hoped she could have blocked better. She clapped hands with Lyla but her lover had a grin hanging on her lips “Let me smash.” she whispered before they set to receive, with her hanging back and leaving Lyla more space to receive. Their eyes were set on Johanna, the dark haired beauty ready to serve, watching as she rolled the ball and smiled, before charging and jumping: the ball rose in the air and flew toward them. Lyla was ready, she moved and crouched as she took the fast ball bumping it up. She was ready for it, hands setting it up so Lyla could smash it to the other side of the net. She watched as the ball reached its peak and started falling while Lyla jumped to try meet it midway; two hands rose up to wall but instead of spiking it through, Lyla choose to use a pokey to make it bounce in a very short arc, eluding the block as much as the inner defence! “YES!” they cheered, reaching to smash a high five with each other. Spectators also clapped their hands and cheered: it had been a nice play and they were one point closer to fill the gap! They were still behind of 2 points but they were catching up. “What about a timeout?” Erika, one of their opponents, called out from the net huffing but smiling, little drops of sweat dripping from her features. With blonde hairs pulled in a tight bun and eyes shielded behind wrapping sunglasses, she was a good player with endless energy. “Timeout? Yeah, sure!” she replied over the shoulder of her lover: she wasn’t going to say no to a moment of respite. They headed for the corner of the playing field, where water was waiting for them. She huffed and panted, sand was everywhere, but couldn’t but smile: the match was challenging but her body was working and she felt… well. She felt good. She swiped some sweat from her forehead as she glanced at her partner “Warming up?” she teased and Lyla giggled, leaning back in the sand “A bit.” She shot back, taking a long sip and watching the sun that now was growing lower and more orange as it fell toward the horizon. “I couldn’t wish to be anywhere else.” Lyla mused lightly with a bright smile under the purple sunglasses. “Me neither…” she couldn’t but agree: she couldn’t summon any form of wishful thinking that could have her say things weren’t good, right there and then. They were having a great match against a great team and they were truly enjoying it. The moment of respite was brief and soon enough they were back on the sandy field, ready to commence the final assault to victory! More or less. It was a match done for fun, not in a tournament, so it was more on the line of “we play a few sets and that’s it, we have fun, we laugh, we sweat, and the losers pay for icecream!”. She picked up the ball and lightly threw it to Lyla, letting her serve. She moved forward, bending down and putting her hands behind her: playfully trying to make a heart with her fingers, all to mess up with Lyla. “Idiot!” came the muttered sound from behind and she couldn’t but giggle at that: regular teams used that to define a strategy, they did as well, but sometimes being silly was much better. There was silence as everyone watched Lyla rolling the ball in her hands and breathing. She straightened the arm holding the ball forward before she made it jump up and her hands smashed it! The ball was set spinning through the field, barely going over the net before it met the opposing team’s defence. Johanna hunkered into the sand as she received the ball: it seemed they didn’t want to wait and Erika was already up hitting the ball and sending it fly into a cut shot, hard and fast! Lyla was there and she threw herself sideways as she tried to keep the ball alive, spraying sand around but she was that fraction of a moment too late and the ball hit the sand, scoring a point! Erika and Johanna cheered while Lyla grunted getting back on her feet “Loosing the touch?” She teased lightly her lover who made a playfully pouting face before she rubbed her hands out of the thin sand “Uhf!” She smiled looking back to Erika as she served another ball: they caught it and sent it back, trying to get right through the wall but rebouncing. She barely saved it before Lyla sent it up and back to the opposite site, giving them a respite. A short one as Erika spiked it back hard enough to have her hunker in the sand to take it. It was on Lyla try to close the exchange and her pokey did the job: up and snappy down, in that area of uncovered sand. Success! She smiled and hugged Lyla “Great job, baby!” she grinned, giving her a quick smooch before moving to the serve position. She rolled the ball in her hands, savouring the moment of waiting, where everyone’s gaze was on her, the sender. She felt the drops of sweat slowly crawling down on her tanned body and the coarse sand clinging to it, she felt the ocean’s breeze and she felt the sun’s warmth, she felt the ball in her hand… ~<>~ She lightly leaned on Lyla’s shoulder, bathing in those last warm rays, the sun was soon to fall under the horizon. “What a match…” she sighed lightly: she felt exhausted as she really had to give everything, but then, in the pain of aching muscles… she felt her mind was clearer, she felt well. “Indeed. Rematch when?” Lyla asked with a big grin turning to Erika and Johanna that were sharing icecreams beside them. Johanna inclined her head thoughtful, her long black hairs, now free from the ponytail, cascading down her side, while Erika simply grinned “Already ready to be bulldozed again?” Lyla pouted “You didn’t bulldozed us! We lost by only a pair of points! You can’t say you bulldozed us!” she complained but it was a good natured one: they had indeed lost by only two points, a mistake of too much for them and a mistake less for Johanna and Erika had ended the match. “Sure sure.” Erika dismissed the argument with a dismissing gesture before taking a long, satisfied lick on the icecream “But don’t worry, no icecream will ever get wasted.” she winked giving it another lick. As promised, she and Erika had paid for icecream at the nearby kiosk and they were enjoying their hard earned prizes together. She couldn’t but giggle, pecking a light kiss on Erika’s shoulder as her lover pouted and humpfed. “Don’t be such a savage, Erika.” chided Johanna with a smile “They fought honourably.” “And next time we will win!” exclaimed Lyla puffing her chest out. “In the meantime, I’m winning the icecream…” she offhandedly said as she tried giving a nice lick to Lyla’s neglected icecream. “Baka!!!” and with that they all burst out laughing. She truly loved when people could be enemy on the playing field, putting in the effort to try win, and then afterwards, they could just sit there, exchange banters and stuff, and have a relaxing time. Her eyes drifted back to the horizon: the sun, out there in the ocean, was saying goodbye one last time as its upper edge was caressed by the horizon…soon after it dipped below, disappearing, leaving behind only an orange glow trail. Those were the afternoon she loved the most, those afternoons that felt full, satisfying.