NationStates Jolt Archive

Nova Merin City, Sector K4
Alpha Level Curfew in Effect

Xaric moved quickly through the milling crowds at as swift a speed as his artificial legs would allow, while still keeping the fact that he had artificial legs a secret. Looking futilely for one of the many forbidden cameras he knew watched his every move, the cyborg sped up a bit. His eyes caught the giant gleaming clock that adorned the top of the Karahai Temple, and he quickly looked downward once more, eyes flickering over the people about him.

Brightly clad, the populous of Nova Merin could not be more perfectly blind to the true colors of the world upon which they dwelt. The Prophets of Karahai led them, hurtling through the cosmos, themselves the only beings on Opinno truly aware of the state of things. Billions upon billions of people were herded as sheep by shepherd who had stolen the right of the sheep from them.

Xaric was, thankfully, not one of the blind multitudes. When he had lost his legs during his childhood, the Prophets had abandoned his cause, and forced his family to support a crippled child without assistance or compassion. The Seekers had come to him then, and they were the ones who could see the true light...

Navigating by rote, Xaric felt his mind turn him into a dark alley, where he turned once more into a damp stairway. Green moss grew in abundance, and Xaric's spine tingled with a sense of foreboding. He'd been here countless times before, maybe he was just timid by nature, he didn't know. Hurrying past several side doors in the twilight, the hallway came to an end. Pushing aside several insects that he rather not examine, Xaric's finger pressed firmly on an ancient looking identity pad, of which ownership was a crime, and hydraulic doors opened silently, raising clouds of dust and maddened insects.

Stepping into the lift, Xaric felt it drop swiftly, and for the thousandth time he worried what would happen if the authorities found this place. It was pointless, he knew, to worry but his mind always wandered. Technologies were banned by the Prophets, 'bringers of death and sin' that they were. The Seekers, whom Xaric had joined when they saved him and his family, were a society dedicated to the memory of a storied time long past, where technology ruled supreme over theocratic oppression. They were a dwindling kinship, there remained only thirty Seekers now, but the events of the past week had been the most exciting in a long while.

A working Jump Drive had been excavated!

A team of Seekers had been excavating deep underground many miles from the nearest city, where they found the remains of an ancient ship, rumored to be from the legendary Departing Era. The ship was rusted, but they did not need the shell, they had scavenged many ships and many were capable of flight, but as yet, none had the ability to jump immense distances. The ancients had done it, and so now would the Seekers... They would leave this world and search for the stuff of legends.

It was a dark torrid day in Reluma (the last month of the year), and the clocks were striking twenty nine. Cebre Ona, in an attempt to escape the heat, sought refuge on the other side of the glass door. His "office" was small, yet roomy, foreign, yet homey. When the cruelties of the world bore upon him, this is where he snuck.

Of course within these confines, he had work to do as any employee in an office does. From the window of his "office" he could see the desolate landscape of the volcano marked moon, which his employer had set out to mine. Cebre's job was the most important, of course who didn't think that their job wasn't. As crane operator, he would dip giant ladles into the molten iron flows, that would be used to build whatever.

He couldn't really complain about his job, he was away from the toil of the outside world, only in traveling home did he have to endure a taste of the hardships others had to face. Walking across the covered walkways that formed an intricate lattice across the surface of the moon, one saw the toils of the regular workers. The factory floor, so to speak, was dotted with men in suits designed to protect them from the skin melting heat of the molten iron. The only true luxury anyone had was only found once in the safety of one's own home.

Cebre opened the door to his flat, kicked off his shoes and made a conscious effort to keep them off the carpet. Even thousands of miles from their home planet, his wife insisted that their home was clean. He crawled his way over to the TV where he opened up his package of company issued cigarettes, lit it and took a long drag, just trying to forget the horrors of that day. It was just then that his wife Shenor walked into the room, sitting down next to him turning on the TV.

"Hey honey, how was work?", implored Shenor.
"Another man fell in today. It was horrific...", sighed Cebre.
Shenor then made her way over to her husband and as she started to message his shoulders she proclaimed, "If only the stories that your father used to tell were true, the ones of an empire united under one banner, back when there was a government, not only that, but one that cared for its people's well being."
"Yeah Shen, if only they were true"