Reflecting on the Cost of Corruption
24 Dec 2015Nyninch Anaconda
I wasn't born on Earth, so I've never had what you'd call a 'real Winter Solstice'. But like countless thousands of outposts, mine threw the oddly timed holiday three times a year (on most years, sometimes four due to overlap). The general principles were always the same, give gifts, take stock of what you had and wish each other a prosperous year ahead. Family in full focus for the entire event, and a welcome reprieve from the hardships of life. Bhado is looking to miss out on the holiday spirit, war is brewing again as the final shackles of corrupt governance are torn free. I'm honestly loathe to commit to combat at a time associated with freedom and joy, but the Revolutionary Party for Equality has been stepping up attacks on Brotherhood installations. Retaliation has been hard, it has to be, and Brotherhood operatives, myself included, have destroyed infrastructure and cut power wherever we can to loosen the stranglehold of the minority government. This solstice won't be a time of joy for the people of Bhado, but I hope it will be a transition to a time where the common citizen can celebrate an Earth year free of tyranny, living by their own two hands.
17 Draconis, for me, is a sobering lesson in why even this time of year is a time for hard decisions and grief. A small, 50,000 population service outpost in the middle of nowhere, this object warning against hubris is spiralling out of control. Famine, disease and war threaten to overwhelm this sad system. The Anansi crew and I took a ride out there, Anacondas, Type 7's and other craft kitted for medical and food aid. The docks were under heavy guard, hungry faces pressed against the plexi-glass barriers as the New Draconis Alliance took out donations and began distribution.
I don't know how much of an impact our gesture will have. It was certainly seen in a good light by the Feds, the Federal Naval Auxiliary (FNA) saw fit to give field promotions to those of us able to make the trip for our efforts in avoiding pirates and promoting system stability. But for me it's a sign of the slavery of the soul inherent in government. Those people are dependent on us independents to bring them food and medical aid, and when we don't they fare little better than one of Delaine's human stock. This is why we fight in systems like Bhado, we might have brought a gift to 17 Draconis that will see them through the festivities, but we'll bring a gift that will last generations to the people of Bhado.
As a result, I've sunk a considerable portion of my fortune into a military surplus Corvette. The FNA brass consider my actions worth access to their retired stock, so I've outfitted one of their strike ships as a patrol cruiser. Nothing heavier exists in the Bhado system, and I intend it to be our flagship in the fight ahead. She's an aggressive, rude and unrepentant 2 kilotons of military engineering, reminding me of my grandmother's stories of Loa and other spirits that followed us out to the stars.
I'm not a spiritual man, but her description of the Ghede, Maman Brijiit struck a chord; the cigar smoking, rum soaked death spirit, so keen with expletives and blue humour, seems to embody what I feel in the machine pulse of this ship. So Maman Brijiit she'll be, named in a solitary ceremony in LHS 20. Dashing a bottle of chilli infused rum against the prow with a lit Lavian leaf cigar in a tray on the control console, I think my grandmother would have been proud. Or clipped me upside the head for some breach of protocol. Spiritual types can be crazy specific about stuff like that.
If the price is in blood, we're ready to pay it in our own. Brotherhood endures.