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Omerta Syndicate Neocom Journal

Seeds

Comments   0   Date Arrow  June 9, 2008 at 7:38am   User  by Shintoko Akahoshi


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I don’t usually write these things - I never seem to have the time for them. Just the same, this might help me keep track of everything going on in my mind.

There’s gonna be a war.

I don’t mean just a little, limited, spaceship-only sort of war. A war. As in a big, messy, nasty clade-busting sort of thing. Zaitsev and I have been talking about this a whole bunch about this, lately. I can’t really tell what he’s thinking about Heth, and the State, and all that, he’s too good at hiding his feelings and I’m too poor at sussing them out. The one thing he is really clear with me about is the position it puts me in. Not just as a citizen of the GalFed, working in the State, but as an Akahoshi.

Maybe I should back up a bit. You never know what will be read for posterity’s sake.

I’m an Akahoshi. I’m not Gallente. I’m an Akahoshi. There were never many of us, only 38 at the moment. Now that Miho has returned to the fold, so to speak, I’m the only Emmigrant. All the rest are either back home in Luminaire, or in Tierijev. What I mean, of course, is that the rest are either back home in our asteroid habitat, or in our new habitat in Tierijev. They’re the reason I’m out here.

My clade.

JOEI helped me put together our whole story, I never knew it before. Hell, no one really did.

Once upon a time, there was a Caldari corporation, Red Star. Not a surprising name, really Akahoshi is Achushan for Red Star, after all. Back before the Caldari left the old Federation, Red Star based out of Luminaire. On the surface, they were a model microcorporation - a few thousand mixed Caldari and Gallente, working together to build a bright and profitable future in biotech. As inter-race tensions mounted, they kind of folded into themselves. Set themselves up as their own little pocket civilization. They even created their own dialect, so that they could speak to each other without either race being at a linguistic disadvantage.

Their brave new biotech world turned from “ordinary” biotech to self modification. Altered people. Attempts at creating superbrights, heightened evolution, that sort of thing. One of their projects was us - my clade, the spacefarers of the future, with none of the problems that baseline people had in space. They got off to a good start, setting us up with all the trimmings necessary for a healthy life in microgravity. There were a few mental problems - they thought we’d make better spacers if we were better at recognizing patterns, with limited success.

Then came the secession, and the war. It’s hard to make out what happened after that point, but it looks like Red Star was pulled out to Tierijev. We were left in our asteroid habitat, hidden away in a polar orbit, waiting for transport that never managed to arrive. Leaving us on our own, without the ability to do more that barely survive, for all those centuries. It was hard. I’m surprised to this day that we were able to hang on for so long. Oh, we had what we needed to survive - we had power, food, water, air - but we weren’t finished. Red Star had sterilized the original Gallente donors at the genetic level, to prevent mixing while they worked, and did not intend to make us fertile until they were finished. We could reproduce asexually, like Deteis tube children, and we had enough gear to allow this to happen. We had to play with our own genes, though. You can’t just clone yourself and expect your gene line to survive that way. There are issues. Telomere issues. Gene drift. Mutation. We had the equipment, and the theory, and we had to come up with a solution that worked.

So we did. Barely. There were problems, and terrible infant mortality, but we did it. We managed to hang on for centuries, until we were found and welcomed into the warm arms of a larger civilization.

Like so many other pocket cultures, though, by the time this happened, we didn’t want to leave. We were proud, we were civilized, and we didn’t want to give all this up to assimilate into some alien culture of Outsiders, crawling with germs. Oh, sure, there were a bunch of us who ran off into the wider world. The thing is, though, they all died. The Gallente were just too alien. Once that first wave failed, we pretty much holed back up and tried to pretend the rest of the universe didn’t exist.

We couldn’t pretend, though, that we were thriving. We were in a decline. Each generation had it harder, each generation saw fewer survivors. Something had to be done.

Every so often, someone will look at me - by all evidence a stretched Gallente with delusions of grandeur - and wonder what I am doing in this renegade Caldari corporation. In the end, it all came down to Zaitsev. Zaitsev, the mad hermit CEO, intent on his vendetta with Ishukone, decided for some reason or another that he needed me. Ever the thorough researcher, he figured out exactly what we needed, and got it. Red Star was almost entirely defunct, reduced to a shell owned by the Solurik family in Tierijev, unaware of what Red Star really used to do. He found them. He found their warehoused data, left over from the hurried wartime evacuation, in a dead habitat out past the Tierijev cometary halo. And he bought it. He bought the whole habitat from the Soluriks, who had no idea that the thing even existed, let alone belonged to them. I have no idea what he paid for the thing, he wouldn’t say, but he bought it and gave it with no strings attached at all to my clade, along with all the aid we’d need to solve our problems and set ourselves up to flourish. After all that, how could I ever leave the man?

Which brings me to the last four months. Four months of buying materials and gear; supervising its installation; making sure the habitat could support life, and was sterile; ferrying clade mates between Luminaire and Teirijev. Exhausting work, but necessary. We Akahoshi have always felt ourselves to be seeds, and seeds have got to grow. Thanks to the mad, renegade Zaitsev-haan, we stopped sitting dormant in our packet, and started thinking of soil.

It just figures, then, that Noir had to go and start a fucking war just then.

At least we’re a little more spread out, now. Tierijev may be a vulnerable border system, but Akahoshi in two systems are certainly better than one.

Tagged   Personal

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