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An archeologist working in a very specialized field of research, a governmental decision which risked the foundations of the empire, and a young orphan, running away holding tightly onto the only memento he could recover from his father's corpse.

These three things are closely tied and may very well be important to remember at some point in time, but first maybe you'd like to hear some backstory as to what's happened over the past half millenia or so.

'Since the dawn of time, man has wondered "Am I alone?"' or at least that's what the history holo-discs would say. Whether this question was shared by all of mankind, or just the select few people who record and discuss history holo-discs is up for debate, but for some reason there always seems to be SOMEONE trying to find beings from other worlds.

Now I ain't talking about heaven and hell either here. Let's leave that debate for another day. I'm talking about little green men! Highly advanced beings from other planets! UFO's, aliens, choose your poison.

Whatever the reason, as the human race progressed, men with these aspirations made their way into high offices of power around the world. They started rumors and conducted experiments to prove that the earth was becoming overpopulated. They said that in order to survive, humankind would have to populate other planets. Really, they needed the funding to search for other-worldly life. What the officials did not count on, whether by poor planning or if they just didn't care, was the affect this would have on society as we knew it.

Sure, in the core worlds society flourished. Advanced ores from other planets, phenomenons no one had ever seen before, new medicines, advanced spacecrafts for interstellar travel, but as humanity spread farther and farther throughout the galaxy, the empire began to realize just how impossible it was to properly govern a race spread out so far. Desperately in search of a better life, the poorest, least educated citizens of the empire paid what little money they had to start anew on newly terraformed planets on the outer rim. Being promised a chance to earn their way to good fortune, these settlers found themselves abandoned on lawless outer planets. Too poor to afford flights back to the core worlds and too weak to fight the hoards of mercenaries and bandits who had claimed these planets as their home bases.

Your quality of life out in the outer rim has a direct correlation with the size of your blaster and how quickly you can draw it out. There may be a day when the settlers of the outer rim finally say enough. When the empire's lies are revealed and the galaxy will head in a new direction. Maybe that day will come... but I don't think so... and it won't come by my hand. I'm no hero... no rebel warrior... I'm not even a charismatic leader (any woman in any space port could tell you that!) I'm just a guy in a bar... sitting next to an empty cup. I'm not out to save the world, I'm just out to keep on flying another day.
I'm going to try something new here. Something very experimental. I could explain this but I'd rather wait and see if it'll eventually explain itself. More to follow
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Submitted on
December 7, 2012
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