Sapego

  The warm light of two suns swept over golden fields of wheat.

  It's always been a calming pce for Selene. Whenever life became too stressful or monotonous—she'd come here.

  There was something calming about nature. As natural as these fields got, at least.

  She lived on an 'AG' world. Farming colony. This pnet's soil was rich for farming. High nitrogen or something.

  It was nice, but sometimes she'd wonder what it'd be like living on a core world. Life seemed way more exciting there. More risks and opportunities. Life as a country bumpkin wasn't so gmorous.

  Still, it had its perks. It was peaceful for one. Sights like these were rare on the core worlds, and chances are you couldn't stand alone like this.

  If Selene wanted, she could find an actual forest. With actual bugs and weeds.

  Selene clipped the silver tch of her backpack. The hard cover made a swishing sound as it depressurized and pushed itself away from the main body. She produced a bck art book from it and began to sketch. She liked to start with the distant trees, backlit by the yellow and white suns. Then she'd add something different each time.

  Most of the time it was something basic like a waterfall or a giraffe. Other times it was more adventurous. Today she'd draw a frigate. A big spaceship for shipping. Beginning with the basic shape, she patiently began to block out the different compartments. This was her favorite part. Complexity would show up on its own. It's the simple stuff you had to get right.

  She sketched for hours until one of the suns began to get low. The one they based their hours off of, as it did have a day and night cycle. The other one was smaller and further away. Her pnet didn't orbit it, and so it just maintained an off-center position in the sky.

  The sketch had taken shape. Maybe she'd add color. Not that she cared for it all that much, it was often a superficial addition to her tastes.

  Just as she contempted it a rolling thunder swept across the sky above her which drew her gaze. A sleek ship appeared—much smaller than a frigate. It sent rippling blue waves behind it. Electric bolts struck the aperture of the many warped circles appearing behind it as it slowed.

  That was a fast jumper. Whoever it was, they were in a hurry to get here.

  It swept over the fields and flew around the massive domed structure of the colony. What was a ship like that doing in a backwater colony like this one?

  She'd hear about it on the news. For now, she stowed her booklet back in her backpack and headed back to town.

  The heavy doors to the colony lifted and lowered in equal parts autonomously as she approached. There were no guards, no gatekeepers. There were guns. But they were hidden beneath doors of their own.

  Inside the gleaming gss dome of the colony were pilrs of buildings. Streets of asphalt and concrete. Trees often lined them. Patches of grass, parks. Life here was much like it was in the old days. Traffic lights, supermarkets, even cars with actual wheels on them.

  Though, everything had lots of metal and carbon fiber. It was cheaper and more efficient to build with. That part wasn't too appealing. If Selene had to describe the overall aesthetic, she'd say it was like a potted pnt in a dark steel bucket.

  People were going about their day. Driving in their identical matchbox cars. Some were on foot, as it was a valid method of travel in a colony like this. Only a handful of people were needed to tend ag worlds, and so the town wasn't built with endless scability in mind.

  Selene was one of the walkers. In no hurry to get anywhere.

  Her backpack made a chirping sound.

  There it was. The news notification about what the thundering port-jump was. She reached over her shoulder and undid the tch, which caused the backpack to push itself open and shoot out a tablet from one of its compartments.

  [Interpnetary species discovered in the Joaquin system. The Protectorate: Universal Confederacy has sent researchers who arrived at Endelon today around 7:00 p.m. to investigate.]

  Puck was here? Acknowledging they exist? Well, that was something at least. It wasn't typical for them to be on the outer rim.

  But some alien thing was jumping pnet to pnet. So it made sense.

  Something like that wasn't unheard of. It was possible in numerous ways for biological life to be space faring. It wasn't exactly common... Just nothing to run home about. Selene was somewhat disappointed.

  Home was the same as how she left it. The metal brick had many compartments. As well as vents, whirly birds, and other spaceship qualities. If a spaceship were a suburban home, that is.

  Inside was less so, at least. Cold linoleum floors in a muted green color with speckles of bck.

  White panels for the walls and ceilings. Modur was the theme. Mass manufactured.

  "Did you hear about the Puck researchers?" a voice called from the kitchen as Selene walked into the living room. A couple brown pleather couches and chairs were set around a rge monitor. Selene plopped down and turned on the monitor.

  "Yep. Ship was pretty cool." she said compcently.

  "You saw it?" they asked.

  The big monitor in the living space went to the news. The colony's only news station 'ENN'. There was a reporter outside one of the nding pads.

  Teams of enforcers were running to and from in a hurry. Someone in a white b coat near the ship was giving orders and pointing over their heads.

  "Mmhm... Shiny. Not blocky like most of them. What are you making? Curry?"

  "Yep. Dad asked."

  The news reporter on the monitor attempted to get closer to the nding pad, but an enforcer pushed them back.

  The ship was turning into some kind of command post, it seemed. White tents were being erected around a mess of b equipment and monitors. They were also setting up a fence all around the airfield itself.

  "The protectorate seems really worked up about this one." Selene heard her mother say.

  "Puck always overreacts. That's why everyone hates them."

  Almost as if proving Selene's point, the very next topic the news station went on to speak about was how numerous miners on a mineral colony were killed during a worker's protest. Of course, the station acted as if it were the protestors fault. It always was, apparently. Puck was always right as far as journalists were concerned.

  It was getting old.

  The sliding gss door to the backyard opened, and her baby brother walked in. Ten-year-old spoiled brat. Messy brown hair and dark eyes like her. A big gray dog that looked like a used mop was panting behind him.

  "Mom, look!" he was dangling something by the tail end. It looked like an earwig scaled up. A nasty centipede thing the size of a ruler.