Tales of the State~Spire 67

[Lord Zai Uzu]

"Damned Foreman!" Giusiki said over and over in his head as he walked out in the white death that was Vevoxycese. The mining station had just been licensed by True Power, the gigantic arm of the State relying on the gases trapped in the icy depths of the frozen planet for their...well, something.

Giusiki couldn't honestly remember anymore, the bitterness of the unrelenting cold creeping through his life support suit. Granted, the planet had oxygen, but with the temperature as low as it was, the oxygen had reverted to liquid state and collected to form large 'oceans' in the planet's giant rifts. Likewise, the gases T.P were interested in were in liquid state as well [which kinda makes it pointless to call them gases, I know].

"Maybe they used them for the nuclear rounds." Giusiki thought as he moved towards the spire that had demanded his attention. Such spires were the bane of maintenance workers such as Giusiki. Sure, they detected seeping Idrogen gas, which while useless in itself, was a sign of the liquid gases the mining station so desperately sought. But, surely it wasn't too much to ask for heated tunnels to the maintenance hatch?

Unfortunately for the freezing Ultarian worker, it was. T.P. had recently poured a great deal of its allocated resources into finishing it's newest Koa Dreadnought, named after the first Phosian Lord, Tzarious. The mining station, despite being the largest on the planet, had only been given enough for minimal operations until they could prove their worth with results.

Finally reaching the hatch, Giusiki more or less jumped into the spire's heated maintenance access. Stopping for a second to appreciate the only mildly hypothermic temperature, the Statesman looked at his comlink.

"Update the system bios, check for fractures, blah, blah, usual stuff." Giusiki said, moving to run through a task he was exceedingly familiar with now. The spire's interior was cramped, especially for someone in a bulky life-support suit, but it only made finding problems easier considering the tiny area of possible failure. Finding the console, the Ultarian updated the spire's software, made sure there were no error logs, and emptied the hourly log files. Using a device that sent waves throughout the structure's walls, he checked for fractures that could be caused by the extreme pressure differences betwixt the semi-warm air inside the spire and the ridiculous temperatures outside. Finding everything to be in order, he sighed and opened the hatch to make his run back to the station's superstructure.

"Haha! The Foreman made you check Spire 34?" Mrvosi asked as he laughed at his friend's frostbitten suit. His crimson eyes flashing with malice, Giusiki took off the suit and moved back to the Maintenance Room.

"I'm so sick of this place!" Giusiki admitted as he threw himself down onto the heated chair, "What do we get? Five credits per shift [30 minute interval]? And I only get to go to Cazabar once a standard week! If I'm lucky, my credits won't expire before I have enough to buy something!"

Mrvosi went over to the vending machine, inserting an emerald green coin-shaped credit into the slot. Deciding on T.S.'s new drink, 'Zola,' he picked the cold metal cylinder out of the bin after the machine spewed it out, and sat opposite to his ranting friend.

"You aren't looking to the bright side of things my friend." he said as he opened the can's elaborate top.

Giusiki shot him another nasty look and exclaimed "Bright!? I can't remember the last time I saw this system's star! All there ever is out there is those blasted ash clouds. Ash clouds and blizzards! Why couldn't there have been gas pockets on Argon's moons? Or Argon!? I'd rather be in its acid rainstorms than this!"

Shaking his head at his pessimistic friend, Mrvosi took a sip of the surprisingly delicious liquid. Putting the can aside, he looked his fellow statesmen into the eye and then looked to the window.

"You see that out there?" he said, motioning towards the window.

"That creepy white haze that covers this wretched planet? Yeah, I see it."

Mrvosi smiled. "No, I'm talking about our fortune. Out there, there is a gigantic liquid gas pocket one of the spires recently detected. The Foreman found out about it last week and is waiting to inform T.P. about it next re-allocation term so they don't have any excuse not to pay us big time. There's a rumor that the Truths [true Power, True Society, etc.] can make credits that don't expire for something this big. Wouldn't it be nice to have some stake in a residence on Ari 2 [one of Argon's three moons]?"

Giusiki, who would probably kill to get off Vevoxycese, was nearly drooling at the thought of not only leaving, but leaving with a substantial home waiting for him somewhere.

"Yes!" he almost yelled, looking again to the white haze. Had he of looked only seconds sooner, he'd might of noticed a considerably large shape moving through obscuring haze. But all he could see was the warm sun sets on Ari 2, himself sitting in the dream with lush green grass playing up through his not-frozen toes. Of course, he was thrown back into reality when a siren went off, prompting the two workers to jolt up on their feet and run to the comm station.

Once they had finally got there, there was already a large group of other miners crowding around the room's hologram projector. Guisiki and Mrvosi could hear them all mumbling random snippets.

"...he never can back..."

"...his last message had 'monster' in it..."

"...dark shapes in the haze..."

"...Spire 67..."

Eventually, all the random noise was silenced by the appearance of the Foreman's visage on the projection. His face betrayed tension, and his voice only confirmed that.

"Miners! We've lost a fellow statesmen today. Ilfik had been assigned Spire 67 today, one, as you all might know, is furthest from the mining compound. On his way back, we lost communication with him, though the implications of his last words hint at the work of a denizen of this planet. Pre-construction scans had no indicated any life on this planet, but unfortunately, they were wrong. Only minutes prior to this message, the Salus astrometrics ship did a scan of this planet. Turns out its rife with life beneath the frozen wastes. The idea is that our recent drilling has jarred several of these creatures out of their stasis, causing them to run rampant on the surface. The station is going to be closed until True Power sends down its forces to clean out the area. Already, it has been confirmed that several of these creatures have the ability to harm the buildings, and, of course, kill workers, so we cannot risk staying here until these creatures are dealt with. Shuttles are already being dispatched as we speak. Be at the docking bay within the end of the next shift. Thank you."

Guisiki turned to look out the comm room, his stare penetrating the now flimsy looking windows into the great wastes of the wretched ice planet. He couldn't help but think, nay, to shudder at the thought that he probably passed one such creature on his way to his respective spire.

"Well," Mrvosi said grimly, "you do get to get off this planet."

Guisiki, who just noticed the moving shadow outside that he had missed before, nodded and added weakly "Yeah, good thing for that."

[Lord Zai Uzu]

"Trai! How!?"

The Statesmen only looked with disbelief at his friend. She bore the markings of a Wran pilot, the highest pilot rank one could hope to achieve in the State. It was by far a great honor to even know one. Being one was a completely different story.

The Ultarian laughed at her awe-struck friend. By now, she thought she would have gotten used to it, but it was still funny at how her comrades gawked at her. "Jkuzo, please." she said, shifting uncomfortably, "I'm still the same, the State just recognizes my talents now."

Zai Jkuzo, as his name was such, just shook his head at his strange friend. He himself was merely a fighter pilot, the standard State 'Warrior.' For 20 years, he had trained to become a warrior, starting from day one. How, you ask?

The State had abolished procreation through sexual intercourse, and the act or ability to even engage in sex, many years ago, saying that it led to too much internal strife. Using genetic engineering, it was a quick snip here and there, and with the mechanisms required gone, likewise was the act. Of course, that led to definite problems, namely the reproduction of the species. Thus came along the nifty Genex Labs, co-licensed between True Power and Society. Using, again, genetic engineering [of which I have an explanation, but...], they were able to produce new, non-cloned citizens. Some newly created citizens were meant to be just that, citizens. They would be sent to a receptive family (based on said family's order) and would start General Education courses at age four until age twenty, by which they would be sent to Specialized Education based on their Spectrum Studies Test (SST) score for another ten years. However, citizen production only accounted for about 10% of Genex's "products." About 90% of the Ultarians created were to be warriors, and their training started not when they were four, but, rather, right when they were born.

Jkuzo never had a family, but neither did any other warrior. From "birth," the warrior-bound Ultarians would be taken to machines that would supply their body with constant electrical stimulus to the muscles and the mind. What could be thought of as "trained parents" would make sure the warriors-to-be always had someone there, as constant connection of a babe to another was found to increase neural activity in the babe's mind. This was continued until they could walk, in which at that point they were taught the basics as soon as they could. Granted, throughout this time, they were still subjected to the electrical treatment, but only during periods of downtime throughout what the State called "Prep-Training." They were also fed with specifically designed foods meant to aid in the growth of the brain and the body in general. At age three, as the warriors generally mentally matured more quickly than citizens, warriors were to be put in Military General Education until age ten. During those seven years, some of the most grueling tasks are given to them, as well as the time their aptitude is mapped out.

At age ten, their body is augmented with the finest in State implants. Their bodies now support tiny networks of mechanisms that continue the shock therapy [which, if you haven't realized by now, aids in muscle growth] as well as coverings that increase the strength of the bones in the arm, legs, and skull, eye implants that increase the sharpness of vision as well as give the naturally color-blind Ultarian full visual spectrum, as well as a myriad of mental augmentations that increase reaction time, sectors on logic, hand-eye coordination, etc. After a brief recovery period, the "warriorite" is given the Militant Spectrum Test (MST) and spends his/her remaining ten years in Specialized Militant Education. The last year in SME is known for its death rate, specifically the death rate from the "Final Test." All warriors-to-be have to take and pass the test, otherwise they have to repeat the last two years of SME or die in the test itself. Jkuzo, of course, passed and did so with flying colors. The next day, he was enlisted as a warrior along with his fellow "survivors," as the older pilots call them. Within the week, he was put on a Minzeck Cruiser and only a year later was sent off to help in the Genocide.

Yet, Wran pilots were different. Granted, everything was the same until the day before the ten-year operation. Anyone mapped out to have the "Wran Aptitude" was taken from the group and given an early MST. Anyone that scored within the highly narrow range on all parts of the exam were to be passed on to a completely different training camp. That day, so long ago, was the last Jkuzo saw his friend until now.

"So!" He said, turning to walk down the corridor, "How has it been so far?"

She smiled, causing Jkuzo to sweat a little. She always made him nervous, but in a good way, he reassured himself. "The Nnsui fleet has just recently accepted me. As you might realize, Wran training is twenty-five years, and I was given recognition only a week ago, so I really don't know how it has been."

Jkuzo nodded and looked to the looming door. As it would happen, they were both on the 'Ominoko' Defense Station, only miles from the Lodessian Great Gate that led to the Terminal. Seeing that he was on a brief leave, Jkuzo had used it to meet with this childhood friend, whose station was apparently Ominoko, and he was glad that he did. She always made him nervous...

Opening the hatch, a screeching siren broke Jkuzo from his dream. Looking to his friend's face, he realized it was a call to mobilize. Running to a skiff that would take her to the docking bay, she called out to her friend that she would be back shortly. Laughing, Jkuzo turned and made his way to the observation deck to watch the show.

Pirates, it seemed, were rarely a smart bunch. As it stood many years ago, the once EMI system was abandoned, ravaged by Letum's forces and the likes of Zann. During that time, as they are apt to do, pirates settled in the system and made it their regular haven. Of course, the IHF came soon after and ironically chased most of the pirates out of the system. Years later, with the mysterious disappearance of the IHF, pirates began to settle back into the system when the Geirs showed up [sounds a bit ridiculous after a bit] and chased them away again. Of course, the State killed the Geirs soon after and sent up their own nation within the system. Apparently, all the pirates didn't get the memo, and for three months, there had been sporadic instances of pirates warping into the Lodessian system. Bewildered by the presence of the State, a large portion of them died with a face of shock and without a single shot from their end. In fact, most didn't even make it into the system, but rather died in hyperspace against a mass shadow generator. But for the select few that both found a hole in the screen and put up a fight, there was always the Wran.

"Well, my my," Jkuzo said to the technicians, who were more preoccupied with trying to open a stubborn Zola can, "The pirates have sent in a frigate. They're stepping up a notch, eh?"

Indeed, a piratine frigate floated near what used to be Sabith, its cannons charged and locked on to one of the scan probes that orbited the barren planet. The Ominoko's scanner had picked the ship up immediately and now its holo-mapper was playing a second-by-second update of its movements. Suddenly, within the image, one large, half-way diamond shaped ship appeared, its underside loaded with cannons of ridiculous proportions in relations to the ship's size. It was the Wran.

Almost immediately, the frigate opened fire, but the Wran merely launched its prow missiles. The frigate's attacks met with the missiles and were canceled out, and, as if such surprised the frigate, it stalled for a split second. In such time, the Wran opened fire with all six of its under-side cannons. Zzaxxian missile-droids filled the relatively short space between the pirate and the Wran, about forty of them, before the first six reached the ship. At that point, they swarmed around the frigate, each picking a different spot from the other before diving into the shield. The first twenty merely exploded against the shield, but the other twenty broke through, ripping into the hull. With another quick barrage, another thirty to forty Zzaxxian had found their mark and the frigate exploded. In a manner of only ten seconds, the Wran, which barely left shuttle range, had destroyed the frigate.

"Well, my friend," Jkuzo said after his esteemed pilot comrade came back from hie triumph, "now can you tell me how it was?" Laughing, she merely replied, "I will tell you when the other thirty-nine of us fight together." Struck by the thought of it, Jkuzo shook his head and followed his friend. Outside, the twisted remains of the frigate smoldered, a testament to the Wran's might.

[Lord Zai Uzu]

“Passengers, please secure all your loose belongings.”

Zai (Ytsu) Di’so looked up at the metal gratings the young female voice was emanating from, wondering what had changed in the few minutes between leaving the planet Cie and now. Staring out his passenger viewport, he could see the looming MagnaTran gate as the vessel inched closer to it as well as dozens of other State ships with like intentions.

“Neumphos-bound traffic is heavy today,” he said, settling back down in his crimson velvet seat. His wife, Kai (Mikiri) Di’so, merely smiled and nodded, taking a glimpse out into the cold void before laying her head back on her own seat.

 It had been days since the couple first boarded the shuttle, catching it on the frigid docks leaving the northern reaches of Elexica. The system had been good to the two, bringing them a small fortune by way of Ytsu’s expert programming skills and Mikiri’s perfected account management. However, its location far into the fringes of the Territolta left the two feeling vulnerable, especially with the rumors of a growing pirate force just outside the State’s boundaries.

The voice called again over the intercom, this time a much more gruff voice; the voice of the shuttle’s captain, “Passengers, we are approaching our final gate from Cie to Neumphos. Estimated time is about three hours, so please feel free to partake in the shuttle’s services. If you have any questions please hail an attendant or use our Lexiccants, now with free POWERnet.”

Ytsu looked lazily at the faintly glowing screen across from him. The shuttle’s Lexiccants weren’t nearly as good as his personal one, and with the monitor built into the back part of the seat in front of him, it was annoying to try and find an angle that didn’t make the polarized screens pitch black. Yet, with three hours to kill, the Statesman decided to take advantage of the free network service.

With a ‘click,’ Ytsu started the Lexiccant’s GUI, the screen spewing forth Aveish characters detailing certain creative rights with True Society’s seal at the end of each. Finally, the computer’s logo appeared with the company’s name, “E&E Corps,” crawling beneath it. Smiling, Ytsu faintly remembered his time working with E&E, designing the architecture for a little-known application that helped the average Statesman translate older texts written in Phosian into understandable Aveish. It wasn’t his best work, but Ytsu still enjoyed making it.

Yet, it wasn’t long before he grew tired of working for E&E, finding their program scope to be highly limited. He thirsted for adventure, and, being the ambitious type, he strove to achieve his desires. Leaving the company’s compound on Daeo, he soon found suitable work on Elexica among the ominous ranks of ISIC. After only a few weeks working at a private programming company on the placid planet, ISIC recognized the young Statesman’s potential and soon had him working on several aspects of their premier project, DOMIN.  A few years later, he met his wife, who managed the resources of ISIC’s many orbiting compounds around Elexica, and he had been sated since. That was, before the disturbing incidents and rumors…

Opening the terminal to the State’s most reliable network (the before-mentioned POWERnet), Ytsu ran a search for reported pirate sightings. He could still remember the shock of almost colliding head-on with a piratine frigate only weeks before he decided to move to the State capital. Ytsu had simply been returning from a day at work in his personal shuttle (he had been updating DOMIN’s main terminal routing programs), when his ship automatically swerved to miss the materializing vessel. The frigate had appeared right in the middle of an extremely busy space-lane, causing several larger vessels to collide as they likewise attempted to avoid the pirate ship. The chaos only lasted a few seconds before a looming State battle-cruiser appeared behind it, catching it in its magnetic grapple before unleashing its eight heavy cannons on it.

That had been it for Ytsu. Though he didn’t feel too unsecure (the pirate frigate didn’t even pull off a shot before it was destroyed), he also didn’t feel as if the State had extended its authority nearly as much as it had extended its territory. With the excessive amount of loyalty credits given to him by the oddly gracious ISIC, he had purchased a well furnished home located near the outer riggings of the State’s floating capital on Neumphos.

Yes… Ytsu thought, finding nothing of any true importance from his query, I’m finally going to see the lofty citadels of Cazabar. Leaning back in his seat, he took his wife’s hand and kissed it softly. “We’re going to see it together,” he said, lifting his eyes to her slightly puzzled face.

“What dear?” she asked, smiling back, “What are we going to see?”

“Cazabar! The State capital!” he replied happily, releasing some of the excitement that had slowly been brewing in the recesses of his mind, “We might even see the Lord!”

Mikiri chuckled at her husband’s slight outburst, “Hah, yes dear. Though, to be honest, I’m most excited to partake in the city’s open markets. I hear the inner city has one of the largest selections of fresh produce. They even have a few vendors completely stocked with Imperial imports!”

Nodding, Ytsu agreed with his wife, squeezing her hand lightly as he looked back out of the viewport. Outside, the void had turned into a brilliant array of celestial colors as the shuttle was thrown passed the speed of light by the titanic forces of the rail gates. Other ships that had jumped with the shuttle were seemingly drifting alongside the vessel; some larger, some smaller than the shuttle. It had an odd calming effect on Ytsu, making him smile once more before closing his eyes, the rocking of the ship putting him to sleep. At last, he dozed off, dreaming of a flying city in the blessed heavens.

To Be Continued