“I will never understand why I’m even here. I’m not some university graduate, I’m not a politician - And I’m not even Caldari! I’m just girl from a hodunk clan in a backwater system…Why am I here? Why was i given this kind of power and importance? Who am I to them exactly? Why has my life taken this bizarre, yet positive turn? Should I be happy?”
- Viokoro Velan
“As fast as humanely possible”
August 3rd YC 121
Chief-Fabricator Viokoro Velan’s office - Hoiyori, Nannaras X.
“So what are the Yakens wanting this time? An oil rig?” What is this?"
“Not quite Ms.Velan, think of it more as a military platform.”
“Military plat-? Hold up, I’m building a military base? At sea?”
“Yes Viokoro, I trust this is something your people would be able to make reality?”
“Well Tokitu…This is certainly something new. Ever sense we’ve got here your family has had us building houses and buildings across this colonly using primarily wood. This concept art here? Just heap of steel…in the middle of the ocean!”
“Embrace it as a challenge.”
“Challenge? Sure. It’s a challenge alright…I mean figuring out how to design the pylons alone is probably a nightmare. You got any idea how much weight you’re looking for it to support?”
Unfortunately no, all we know is what we’d want to see on this platform, comms tower, command center, living quarters, utilities, basic storage…You get the idea, a platform that can act as a military headquarters."
“Well…”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you think it’s alittle… I’d dunno, defenceless for a military base?”
“Heh, this is but the first many more platforms.”
“Eh?”
“Yes…Look at this sketch I have here, from the headquarter platform, we will connect additional platforms via bridges, each platform will serve a unique function, barracks, warehouses, hospitals…maybe even a few laboratories. And of course, platforms that would enhance the base’s defensive capabilities. Turret encampments, dropship pads, the works.”
“Woah, okay now this is getting a little too extreme. I just gotta come clean and say this is all alrrady out of our league as it is.”
“I’m aware, as such I don’t want you to worry about this sketch for right now…and instead focus on this singular depiction of a platform. This central piece is what we need to build before we get to any other platform.”
“Okay…Okay, that makes this a whole lot easier. Still, coming up with an actual blueprint from scratch to make something like this isn’t gonna happen with a snap of a finger. Could take months…Years even! Not to mention all the testing and the different materials we’d have to work with. How quickly are you wanting all this done?”
“As fast as humanely possible.”
“…That’s a little vague to be honest.”
“Hmph, I’m saying work as fast as human limitation allows. As of right now - this project is the priority of your R&D department. As such, I expect your team to make progress on this and take the project seriously. You’ll receive tour funding from the Regiment accounts.”
“Sweet, I’ve always wanted to play around with Capsuleer blood money.”
“Cute.”
"Heh…You know I gotta say it’s a little strange to hear the people I answer to tell me to “Work within human limitations”. Typically they want you to push past that, get more work done in a shorter amount of time. They want people
“Human limitations are a real thing that must be taken into consideration. We’re all born into the Maker’s world weak, only with time and patience will our personal limitations stretch outwards. Allowing for more production.”
“You don’t think people are gonna use that as a means to slack off and attribute it to their “personal limitations”?”
“Of course some will attempt to use it as an excuse, but actions will ultimately show if they speak truth.”
“And is there a standard of human limitation to you people?”
“You people?”
“Apologies - to us?”
“No, each of us are born with unique strengths hidden away inside of us. As well as our own weaknesses, flaws and imperfections - the other half of being human.”
“Oh yeah? What’s your weakness then?”
“I have a mind more suitable for military operations, combat and physical labour. Things like industry? Trade? Science? I’m a joke, they are not my strengths. You could even say I’m stupid in those fields.”
“I see…So I guess engineering is my “strength” then?”
“Much so, despite not having any formal education, I’d you’re worthy of the title “Chief-Fabricator ma’am. You’ve performed acceptable work for the Zaibatsu thus far.””
“Well geez, I’m so flattered…Yeah, I guess when you’ve been handed a wrench at the age of eight and are responsible for helping with repairs on a small rusty station that was slowly decaying away for your entire childhood, you tend to learn more and more about the subject.”
“Born and raised as a spacer, right?”
“Mmhm…Not like it’s anything I take pride in. It was…just the life i was born into, you know? Not like I was in position as a kid to break off and go elsewhere, do something with my life. Hell, first time I stepped off that station was when I was fifteen, and that was just so I could help with a salvaging op…They were exciting, you know? Each ship held something apart of the larger world. Exotic goods, novelty knick-knacks, music files - all kinds of new things. And my Clan was pretty relaxed on keeping whatever trinket or doodad we found…Assuming it wasn’t anything of Amarrian nature.”
“That’s where they draw the line?”
“Yeah, the elders were your typical Matari that were salty at Amarrian culture and traditions. Believed that because we were born Matari that we should adhere to Matari ways and well…”
“Well?”
"…I-I never had any ■■■■■■■ say in it! You know? I was born into this family and given all these traditions to follow, told of some heritage I should be proud of and - look! The tattoos on my face! On my arms! I had no say in any of this! All of this was forced onto me. Because this culture demanded I get these markings otherwise I’m the “weirdo”, then I’m the one not holding onto those traditions the Amarrians tried to wipe out.
“Well, I’d argue following cultural traditions help enrich family cohesi-”
“Tokitu, Tokitu, lemme stop you right there. My clan were Matari trash, alright? Not saying that to insult them but…Its me being honest, my family is backwater trash that would be an embarrassment to Matari cultural pride if they had a semblance of relevancy. Elders were hypocrites, our parents were shooting up with ■■■■ they find in smuggling holds or BOUGHT from the Serpent goons traveling around, my cousin was screwing my sister and- it’s j-just a mess, alright? I could go on for days of the ■■■■ my clan was doing. ■■■■ that I was forced to learn about by being trapped aboard that station for my entire life!”
“…I think I’m starting to see why you’ve distanced yourself from your family now.”
“That’s one way of putting it…I finally got my escape from my clan when a job opened up with this Gallente corporations that was given - less than legitimate authorization - to operate in the system we lived in by the more influential clans. They constructed a mining outpost and needed mechanics to keep ships or equipment running. The whole operation was under the table, so I managed to get the job without any official education. As well as hundreds of others that filled up every other position. I think this Corporation was allowed inside as a desperate attempt to help deal with unemployment in the sector…That or some elder was pocketing a kickback off the labour.”
“I take it conditions were rough there?”
“Are you seriously asking me that? Of course they were! I - accidentally - mobilized a station wide mutiny because ■■■■ was so bad! Unrealistic quotas, bare minimum wages, extremely unsafe work conditions and- Actually, you wanna hear a story? Of just how bad the working conditions were?”
“Go on…”
“I head down to the assembly lanes were we reprocessed the ore that got brought in. Workers are circling around this man - big tank of a tribesman named Tavar - who got his arm stuck in the gears of the machine trying to fix a jam. Old technology, extremely outdated junk. Not only was it impossible to turn this equipment off while it was jammed, but there was no protocol or safety mechanism in place to circumvent this. He had to unjam it manually by reaching in there and grabbing whatever the hell was holding production up. And you had to do it! Know why? Unrealistic quota - a quota that if we failed to meet, would result in half our payments docked. So he had to do it, he had ti make qouta, and the second he frees those gears up? They clamp down on his arm and…Jams it again.”
“…”
“…It was the first time I seen a grown man cry. Like, crying…Actual “Please put me out of my misery” crying. It’s pitiful, and i don’t even mean that in a condescending way. I mean it in a way that you can’t help but feel this gigantic pit of sympathy for someone…There was no way to get his arm free, the gears were digging into his arm, hooking themselves in. We had to cut it off! We didn’t want him to die! We had to amputate him, day as light sober too. It was a scene that would ■■■■■■■ haunt me in my sleep.”
“…So how exactly did this mutiny you speak of “accidentally” creating start?”
“Oh! Well…hey. that’s uh…Silly story.”
“Coloured me interested regardless.”
“Oof, right. Well see I was in the canteen, trying to blow off some steam…Or rather I was there because I just got bled for my meager wages by my hodunk ■■■■■■■ druggie of an uncle who was guilt tripping me, begging for nearly all my recent check so he can pay off his Serpentis dealer - so Cartel goons wouldn’t show up and smash his legs up. So I give in, transfer the money, and decide “■■■■ it! I barely got anything left now! Let’s just go blow it on booze.” So I go to the canteen and buy a bottle of this rank ass tequila, I distinctly recall it tasting like fedo piss.”
“How would you kno-”
"Don’t ask me how I know. Anyway, I slam back several shots of this god awful tequila, and I overhear from a table across from me two assembly line workers are talking, venting their frustrations.Then one of them says something along the lines of “This job is tougher than what the Amarrians had me doing, but hey, guess the bright side is that I’m getting paid!” And I - very loudly shout “What the ■■■■?” "
“I imagine he didn’t take to well to that.”
“Oh that man was pissed, immediate hostilities right off the bat. Though it just remains a shouting match, though this I gain the attention of everyone in the canteen. And I’m chewing this guy out, about how an ex-slave would allow themselves to be handed work worst the work they had in slavery, and try to make the bright side “payments”. He was a wage slave now! This man was freed and roped into an even shittier life. And he was trying to say the bright side were these insignificant wages corporate handed out to us! And this segways into me putting the corporation we worked for on blast. Talking about the fat cat Galleteans making millions off us as they sat on their asses in Callie stuffing their fat faces with starcakes…Then I said “We should just take the station for ourselves! Let’s take the ore! Lets seize the means of production and use it towards our own benefit, and not the benefit of some corporate slave masters.” and next thing I know people, are cheering at me, so I keep going, I keep venting. The guy i was cussing out wasn’t even mad anymore, he was on board!”
“So this lead to a mutiny?”
“Nooot right then and there… That night in the canteen I got blackout drunk…I think - THINK - I was talking to everyone there about a potential revolt, and people were buying me drinks. I couldn’t tell you a single word from those talks I was so far gone…But I wake up, in the canteen way past the time my shift starts and I rush to my position - entire way there though - people were giving me winks…It was creepy, and confusing. Everyone - every single person I passed winked at me. It’s not until I run into that guy I was chewing out previously that I understand what that all was about. See, apparently in my drunken haze I had this idea that those on board with a revolt would signal by winking at one another…”
“That’s…Kinda silly.”
“I know! Regardless, it turns out while I was unconscious in the canteen, they went off and started telling everyone about what I said in my rants, and this idea of revolution. And I guess everyone else there agreed conditions were terrible…Because nobody snitched, everyone was on board…And I found myself, awkwardly the leader of a rebellion that I formed while wasted.”
“Not sure if I should be impressed or not”
“Heh, I’ve thought the same for years…Anyway, I’ve had enough of roaming down memory lane…You got anything else you wanna add to this project?”
“No, I think I said all that’s needed to be said. Good luck to you and your team Viokoro.”
“Thanks…”
“…”
“…”
“Viokoro…Are you happy here?”
“…What’s up with the loaded question? Am I happy here? I’ll put it like this, I’m happy to be somewhere else than where I was. I’m happy that I’m no longer at that station, I’m happy you people got to me and my people before Corporate took its revenge. I’m happy to still be alive, and not have my neck stomped in on by some mercanrary’s combat boot. I’m happy, to just be elsewhere…Does that work for you Tokitu?”
“It does, thank you.”