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Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: March 14, 2160

With the minimal amount of sleep necessary, I found myself back on the metro train to the mines: holopad curled in my grasp. Dusty stone walls passed by through the windows, as several weary faces joined me on the daily transport. I kept to myself in the back corner, finding myself listening through earbuds to Noah Williams’ speech on the ride over. It always brought me unspeakable sadness, to hear the astronaut pleading for our lives, and trying to convince those monsters we could be their friends. I wasn’t sure why I was putting myself through this, except to remind myself that the Krev weren’t that bad.

I stared at my empty coffee cup, grateful that someone had the presence of mind to bring along our favorite caffeinated beans; it would be a lot more difficult to get up for an early morning on three hours of sleep without it. If I wanted the miners not to see me, and by extension, Mayor Hathaway, as Krev mouthpieces, it was important that I pitched in for the grueling work. The mayor hadn’t seemed pleased when I mentioned that Gress had demanded double the standard due, though he agreed on not telling the miners the reason for the double shifting. They might find out sooner or later, but we’d cross that bridge when we got to it. We couldn’t afford another strike right now.

As it is, we’re behind the pace of what’s needed to meet the quantity demands. When the mayor calls me to check in…

As if on cue, my earbuds delivered a light chime. I tapped the accept button and glanced at my holopad, wondering what Brandon Hathaway would have to say about our progress so far. We still had two more days to supply what the Krev demanded, but I doubted Gress would be giving us any extensions. Would the mayor have ideas for stalling the aliens, or bringing in more workers? Drawing any more personnel to the mines would look suspicious, with the security personnel already getting the stink eye.

Hathaway blinked sleep out of his eyes, massaging the puffy bags on his coffee-colored skin. “Morning, Taylor. Any update on our progress?”

“I worked with ‘em all night, supervising and moving shipments, helping out as much as I could,” I answered. “There’s no ands, ifs, or buts about it; we’re not getting it done quick enough to meet our deadline, at the current pace. We’re already pushing the main drill to its maximum safe capacity. Our engineers advised me that they can’t, in good conscience, funnel any more power to it.”

“I see. I always…I always knew we were going to butt heads with the Krev eventually, son. I might give you shit about giving them so much as an inch more than we have to, but we cannot afford to anger them any more than we already have. I’m with you that we must make this happen, though I don’t expect the people to get it. They…don’t remember what’s really out there. What it’s like to have thousands of ships coming for you.”

“I know our military isn’t cut out for combat, sir. We have a small handful of warships that don’t hold a candle to the Krev’s boats. We just need to make people see the big picture.”

“There’s adults born out here, who never saw Earth. Even you barely remember it. Not a lot of old folks to tell you about it either. I know the UN wanted a viable population…young, healthy people to ensure the continuance of humanity, but we left a whole lot of experience and expertise behind. Too many tough choices. Me, a city councilman in a small town in bumfuck Tennessee, being the closest thing we’ve got to leadership. Who woulda thought I’d be leading what’s left of humanity.”

“You’re doing an admirable job, for what it’s worth. We kept the Krev out of our turf for decades, but it could never last forever. What we’re doing here maybe buys us a few more years; the more I think about it, the more I know our days are numbered.”

Hathaway ran a hand through his silver hair. “Damned if I don’t know it. You better keep your voice down, Taylor, ‘cause if anyone hears that we’re thinking about giving up, there’s gonna be a riot on our hands. I thought about us packing up and leaving, just being done with the Krev…but wherever we go, it seems we’re going to find aliens. With side-facing eyes. I thought…at least they’re not trying to wipe us out. We can cope with them.”

“Humans are wild horses, Brandon, sir. We don’t like to be broken. It’s real hard to keep us under heel forever.”

“You’ve been listening to old Earth songs from Noah’s data dump, haven’t you?”

“Maybe I have,” I admitted, flashing my teeth. “All those efforts for genetic and cultural diversity, they’re a shallow imitation of what we really had on Earth. The only way we really saved our culture…the vaults. The files. When I look at their sprawling cities and gatherings…their arts and attractions…I feel like we’re living life at one percent.”

“Better one percent than zero. Look, Taylor; I don’t have much in the way of administration, or a counterpart, beyond the Security Chief. I need you to find a way to come through, and pay off the Krev for a bit longer. You do that, I’ll let you have a trial run as a city planner. You and your honeysuckle words, I know you could help handle the day-to-day. Restore things to how they should be with the workers.”

“Come again? I just want to be sure I heard you right.” It’s too good to be true. I come through with the mining supplies, and I’m done with the Krev? Fuck yeah! “You want me to work for you…directly?”

“I do. You’ve toed the line and kept your head down, dealing with the Krev. You did what humanity needed you to do, you’re reliable, and it’s time you’re rewarded for your patience. This is a moment where we can’t afford to come up short. Prove yourself by getting the job done, when our entire colony is on the line, and we’ll get you set up. Whatever it takes for the double payout. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Of course I can, sir. I’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen. You bet your ass you can count on me!”

The mayor wagged a finger at the camera. “That’s the spirit. Keep me posted when it’s ready. You need someone to run interference on the Krev, or anything at all, you let me know.”

“I’ll do that. I think it’s time I get my ass into gear; I’m off this train soon as the doors open! Goodbye.”

I switched off the call, trying to stop my hands from shaking with excitement. Several people stared at me as I jogged to the doors, pushing past absent-minded passengers standing near the exits. My anger at the Krev for the position they’d put us in suddenly was something I could use; I hated working with them, and if I staved off their eviction plans this one time, I’d never have to kiss up to them again. My boots slapped against the rocky ground, finding my way deeper into the tunnels. I wasn’t sure what to do, other than make my way to the main drill.

The scientists set those drill limits as conservative estimates of its capacity, because they didn’t want an accident. We could push it just a tiny increment further, for a short time, and it would be a slight risk. I’d stand right there to help monitor it for any warning signs, and we’d temper its pace if there was anything to sweat about. The only other idea I had was to dismantle our ships; that would never fly with Hathaway or the miners, and I didn’t like scrapping our barebones defenses for parts myself. There was nothing to worry about. The mayor said to do whatever it took…push it, just an hour a day, and it’d be fine.

I grabbed a hard hat off the wall, and moved over to a familiar, exhausted-looking technician. “Can you feed just a small amount more power to the drill?”

“Taylor? I told you, that’s not a good idea! It’s already in the red at its maximum capacity! I know you’re supervising for the mayor, so I bet he put you up to this, huh? We’re working as fast as we can. I won’t endanger the lives of everyone here.”

“Kabir, I think that’s a bit melodramatic. I’m talking the slightest increase; this is an emergency situation. It’s got to be able to stand a little more juice, right? You build these codes to not go right up to the threshold. I’m just asking to go to the actual threshold.”

“You are not a scientist or an engineer. This is the agreed-upon limit for a reason, and even then, we probably shouldn’t have it under such high-stress conditions! It increases the probability of an equipment malfunction, puts stress on the metal—”

“Are you certain the reason for these limits isn’t so that it doesn’t siphon all the village’s power? It’s already dimming the lights. Hathaway won’t care if we cause a blackout. You are experienced in this field, so I think you can find a way to toe the line…to push the boundaries. Between us, the colony’s survival depends upon this. I’m begging you to try, because there is nothing else to be done.”

Kabir hesitated, hand hovering over the controls. “I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe the miners deserve to know…”

“We’re all down here, taking the risks together. We know the risks, and frankly, we haven’t got a choice. I’m here, so I clearly trust you to find a way. Just do it. It’ll be fine.”

“Dammit, Taylor! I’ll dial it up a notch just for sixty seconds, and then I’m putting it back. That’s all I’m doing. I don’t want to die down here.”

“Neither do I, so it’s cool. I knew there was a little wiggle room! If you can do that once an hour, that slight increase in production should be all we need. Thank you for doing what’s right for Tellus, and for all of us. I’ll leave the controls in your care. I’ll be going around to make sure there’s absolutely zero unnecessary pauses from the workers, and getting my hands dirty. We are in this together.”

“Together. Yep.” Kabir took a deep breath, steeling himself. His fingers tapped a button, sending an imperceptible uptick to the drill; we could see it continue to chug along in front of us. “I hope this is worth it, Taylor.”

I slapped him on the back with a smile. “It has to be. We’ve just got to make it through these next two days, huh? See, nothing happened.”

“Yeah. It’s staying in the red…”

“But the gauge was already in the red. Right on the bubble…no movement.”

“Well, that’s the top of the scale. I just…I think I should dial it back down.”

“Tell you what. I’m going to walk off this way; you just count to five, and then switch it back. Alright?”

“Fine. F-fine.”

I turned away from the control platform, nodding to myself to slow my heart rate. Kabir had spooked me a bit with his insistence on the hard limit, but there was no sign of any cause for concern. This minimal push should give us just enough of a boost to meet the requisites, and then, we were free. Maybe we should try to automate more of the machinery to prevent future worker issues from causing problems. I cast a glance over my shoulder as the relieved technician switched the power settings back to their former state, and slumped his head. No harm, no foul.

I will say, I don’t like the discordant rattling sound, but I guess that’s mechanisms being pushed to the limit. The Krev really backed us into a corner here, so it sucks we had to play Russian roulette to make it through. All’s well that ends well.

Now that the brief phase of mechanical overexertion was done, the rattling and internal heat should simmer back to its former state. I thought about looping by the processing center, and checking if the impact of that tiny adjustment was enough. Hard numbers would confirm that we were back on track, with the changes; when Mayor Hathaway called for the next update, I wanted to be able to tell him that I’d come through. That I’d done whatever it took…wait, why was the screeching sound getting louder?

“Fuck. I’ve got to shut it down!” Kabir shouted.

I turned back to face him, eyes widening with alarm. “No, don’t do that! Don’t do anything stupid!”

“I’m sorry, Taylor. I have to, right now, or we’re all fuc—”

There was a deafening sound like a clap of thunder, followed by the noises of metal colliding and striking the cavern walls. A panicked Kabir slapped a hand on the shutdown button, much too late, while panicked shouts from miners hit my ears; some cut off as if impaled by something. I whipped back around to see parts flying out from the towering drill. It had…exploded, like it had been a pressure cooker waiting to burst. This couldn’t be happening, not when we had to get those shipments; how were we going to meet the Krev’s demands without our most powerful mining device?

Heat slapped my face from the explosion, as I placed my hands on my head with horror. It wasn’t just the one segment of the drill going up in smoke; the entire thing detonated like a chain reaction, as the initial buildup spread and the shutdown failed. Finally sensing danger, I hit the deck on instinct, lucky to have my arms already atop my cranium. The groaning overhead intensified; the force of the entire contraption bursting into thousands of pieces of superheated shrapnel damaged the cavern’s structural integrity. Dust trickled down from the ceiling, succeeded by larger chunks of stones and a deluge of sand.

Was this how my life ended: buried alive while trying to appease greedy aliens, for a chance to finally not have to deal with them? My eyes watered with denial, as the air was shrouded in smoky dust. I should’ve listened to Kabir, but how could a minor alteration have caused this much devastation? Choking sobs emanated from my chest, before a mound of sand slammed into my head. The world went dark, as I found myself suffocating beneath a layer of debris.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I was just trying to make the mayor proud…to save our home. This is all the Krev’s fault. I’m going to fucking haunt them in the afterlife. I’m going to make them pay for their indifference, in this life or the next!

While I’d feared that these would be the final waking moments of my life, as I was deprived of any oxygen, I found the last fleeting strength to kick out with my limbs. My hands managed to claw their way out from beneath a pile of debris, to find that the roof was precariously holding steady; or so it seemed. I couldn’t see, with my face still submerged in dust, but I knew the sky had stopped falling. I poked my head out just enough, dragging myself forward and shedding a tiny bit of dust. A weak cough racked my chest, trying to spit out dirt and clear my nostrils.

The back of my skull throbbed, suggesting a welt from where something connected with it. Despite how I willed myself to move forward, my limbs were going lifeless; the last burst of adrenaline-fueled strength was fading. I could hear voices rushing in, further out from the blast sight, helping to dig people out. I thought I heard Cherise above me, trying to wake me, but I had already lost my grip on consciousness. My body sank into the ground’s embrace, exhausted. Knowing I had ruined any hope of humanity meeting its obligations, I fell into a deep, unwelcome sleep.

A/N - The ark ship misadventures continue! With a carrot dangled in front of his nose by the mayor, Taylor sets out to ensure the double payment is churned out, ignoring the safety concerns of engineer Kabir. The leadership sees this as merely buying time, before the Krev kick them out, but it seems time may have run out, as the drill explodes; without a drill, it seems impossible to get any quantity prepared for Gress. 

How do you feel about Taylor's decision to surpass the limits, and his ensuing rage toward the Krev? Will the humans be evicted, or can they find a way to fend off the Consortium's prodding a bit longer?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!

Comments

extraintelligence

I'm gonna be honest with you, this ain't it, chief. All of these characters are awful. Hathaway is clearly incompetent: he is trying to maintain a fleet of ships that will objectively lose a fight when those resources could be used to ease the workload on the populace, putting people in charge of things they know nothing about because he feels sorry for them, and is a terrible judge of character. Cherise and Kabir crumpled under barely any pressure and allowed Taylor to do whatever he wanted, even when they knew it was an awful decision. Ironically, Gress is the only character who seems redeemable, since he's just clearly fed up with being lied to all the time. Taylor, of course, is the worst: he's a typical, spineless middle manager type who sucks up to anyone in authority over him and cajoles his peers into going along with moronic decisions. Even when the mine was collapsing and killing people, his thought was "Oh no, we won't be able to meet our demands!" He has a brief second of clarity where he realizes that he should have listened to Kabir, before immediately shifting blame to the Krev for demanding so much, even though it's entirely his fault for accepting the awful demand with no resistance. The only moral thing he could do now is accept responsibility, but at this point it would be too out of character for him to not try and throw someone else under the bus. The worst part is everyone talking about what a smooth talker he is when his actual talking reveals that he's a cowardly suck-up who makes promises he can't possibly fulfill. The rest can be forgiven, because even the most awful characters can make for a great story if used right, but this is simply bad writing. If you're going to be telling the reader (us) that a character is good at something, they should actually be good at it when they do it. It's jarring to have them say "oh, you and your silver tongue," only for him to wind up being terrible at negotiating, and it makes the characters who praise him seem like morons. The only way it makes any kind of sense is if the Krev specifically said that he was the only diplomat they wanted to interact with, but that still leaves the human leadership looking incompetent for not realizing they just wanted an easily controlled patsy.

John Krause

Bruh thats a project manager if ive ever seen one

spacepaladin15

What they mean by silver tongue is that he's good at playing kiss-ass lol. Even if some of the characters don't realize that's what they're applauding

Star

This is reminding me of my first playthrough of Frostpunk and I'm here for it 😂