[font=MS PMincho]Thick air and dim light ruled the large hall where compactors, furnaces, treadmills and smelters were humming and squeaking. There was the combined blustering noise of every machine magnified into a constant deafening roar which would stun every man's sense of hearing within hours, unless he was an extremely tough kind. And then there was the smell, the smell of burnt rubber and melting iron, everything along with tons of dust which would choke every man's respiratory tracts within minutes, unless he had always been here and did not know anything else. Biting heat caused by the devices and instruments as well as by the insufficient air ventilation would burn up every man's bare body within moments, unless it had been hardened every day long since. Only those who managed to sustain those burdens actually had a chance to survive in that environment and under such circumstances, those men were the hardest of the hard, those men were the Steelworkers.
[font=MS PMincho]No matter what age, physical or psychic constitution, all of them had to work for the same long hours, all of them received the same barely sufficient meals. When one broke down, the others stared apathetically at him until one of the guards removed him from his place. Work was resumed like nothing had happened. Most of the workers had family and many childrens, which was their main problem. Pathetically low salaray, bad hygiene and a generally bad quality of life rendered the entire communion a scrubby and miserable bunch of laborers. It almost resembled a slave camp. The ones with the slightly better cards were the guards and watchmen. They had few privileges, though the moral and mentality was everywhere the same. Between all the heat, the dust and the filth there was desapir and destress clouding the worker's sense and wit. Everything and everyone was suffering, even the machines' reluctance could be perceived and was displayed by constant failures and malfunctions. The apocryphal delight of the guards while punishing and slapping the loath and exhausted laborers detoriated the whole atmosphere even more. Surprisingly, there was no bit of rebellious behaviour on the part of the workers, many of them had never experienced anything elese, had never breathed fresh air, seen the sunlight or felt a warm breeze. An atrocious sight, inhuman at a high degree, yet they continued faciliating and processing the steel.
[font=MS PMincho]He woke up too early in the morning, tattered and mashed like always, but today even more. He'd have needed the sleep, which had been, however, frighteningly unsteady for the past weeks. No doubt there was a change going on, deep in his soul. And his body showed that to him. He started looking at things more critically, he gave thoughts about his life, his purpose, his destiny.
He was one of those countless workers of the second generation born in that squalor. 19 years of age, 1,88m in height, 75kg heavy, chunky figure, an impulsive and decisive kind. By his mother he was given the name Humphrey. The family name was Dumpty. As this combination was kind of a sluggish sounding one, the watchmen and his buddies called him simply HD. Not like the individual had actually any value in this environment but anyway.
Humphrey was responsible for the smelting process at one of the furnaces. The whole sequence of operations was and extreme strain, wearing for both the body and the nerves. Nevertheless, he willingly held down his job, never protestating, never asking unsuitable questions or moaning about pain or illness of any kind. In the recent week he had slightly been starting to look at things from a wider perspective though. In the beginning he beared down the strange thoughts and ideas, but soon he allowed himself to de facto use his brain more often and in a different way. Humphrey examined the devices, the guards, his mates, the entire environment on a particular, yet higher 'level'. Still he dissembled and tried successfully not to raise the other's, especially the guard's suspicion. It was too risky to let anyone know and he had never had anyone to talk to more privately and personally since both his father and his mother died when his was still a child.
Humphrey was a Steelworker, one of the second generation, one who would codetermine the doom of all the Steelworkers soon.
[font=MS PMincho]When you looked into one worker's eyes, you could see limpness, there was no energy, no glowing. Just like robots they held down their job, which consisted mostly of one particular working stage, dull and redundant, yet exhausting. The boss' greed for more money, faster production and cheaper personnel grew constantly. Hence were the overseers under pressure, they became even more desperate, mortiality rate amomg the workers raised, but one aspect was essential. Numerous Steelworkers such as Humphrey changed their tune. Anger and criticism was gradually arising, the anger was meant for the boss on the top, though he could not be reached, so they vented their wrath on the guards and overseers. However, those had the guns and rifles, they defended themselves, the change of situation was reported to the boss, he reacted with more brutality and as a result, the Steelworker's rage grew even more. Melees and skirmishes became a daily occurence, the initial callousness and resignation turned over into fury. However, that fury was directed to other Steelworkers as well, distrust between the workers cropped up and soon an generally hostile atmosphere dominated the halls, corridors and quarters.
Few of them, like Humphrey, managed not to slide into that mood of general hatred against everyone whatsoever. He and a chosen few of others soon formed a group and held regular meetings at hidden places.
[font=MS PMincho]Followed by the disturbances, there rose up supply shortfalls which greatly destabilized the operations. The corporate management, a one-head leadership known as the 'boss' among the workers, received serious problems and there was nothing he could do about it. He and the overseers were utterly short-handed concerning numbers, solely the armed guards kept the workers under more or less stable control. Daily brawls and arguments caused injuries and even deaths on both sides, desperateness on both parties raised, nobody trusted his neighbour anymore.
Meanwhile, a little, unsuspicous bunch of people founded some sort of crisis council who secretly attempted to work out a plan which would recover themselves from this predicament. These people had abandoned the hope for the rest of the Steelworkers from the very beginning though, they believed their egoistical attitude to be only for their best. All members of the council agreed upon the impossibility of safely rescueing the entire worker community as there were many invalids and weak, children, women whom they deemed unable to contribute to the escape plan.
After several weeks the council managed to bribe a few of the dock workers to provide them with access codes to several ships as well as to perturb the senor grid at any given time for the small group of Steelworkers to escape. It all worked out perfectly fine until then, they waited for the very moment to launch their operation when suddenly there happened something completely unexpected.
[font=MS PMincho]The 'boss', in his desperation, called for a crisis meeting together with the entire personnel, consequently the sentries were left unguarded. Behind closed doors the overseers might was useless and thus the factor of intimidation over the workers lost its effect, a move who would have severe consequences caused by an imprudent decision of the 'boss', who was known for his outbursts and weak self-control.
The Steelworker council saw their opportunity to play out their plan. Carefully prevented, they would tie up surveillance cameras, as well as unlocking important doors. Everything was cautiously organized, without having raised the other worker's or the overseer's suspicion. Simultaneously, the great lot of the workers saw their chance, too, arranged themselves in small groups with each of them having a often young, enthusiastic leader at the top and attempted to break through doors and emergency hatches in order to reach the main hangar bay of the Culebra Smelter at all costs. The council gave the green light and launched their operation.
It all happened faster than expected, especially the 'boss' and his henchmen were utterly shorttaken and baffled about the ongoing sudden escape of the Steelworkers. The resolute rush of the workers, along with their wives and children made the laborers feel united and their hope for rescue pulsed like the heart of a human who faced the most terrible situation in his life. Almost all of the dock workers defected to the crowd, few of them still showed loyalty for their supervisors. And so they launched the ore freighters, took off in the open space and decided their own fate from this hour on, the Steekworkers were free, finally detached from the chains of poverty and despair.
[font=MS PMincho]After having left the smelter and Puerto Rico behind, the Steelworker's little fleet prowled all around the sector. Many of them earned their dail bread with honest work, others didn't care much about laws and regulations and therefore didn't wince at stealing and robbing every once in a while. Smuggling illegal drugs or even slaves was a business only a few Steelworkers dared to conduct, however, there were such.
The few ships of the Steelworkers that managed to escape from Puerto Rico spread all over Sirius and lived a life as nomads until they finally decided to settle down, few of them in the Tau regions, another part in the Omegas, however, the majority settled down on Freeport 4 in Magellan and became smugglers and hackers all among a united banner, known as the Union of the Steelworkers.
One of them was Humphrey, now a roughneck and a drunkard, but yet a very cunning lad. Smuggling and savaging helpless traders in Magellan are now his daily work, he feels well integrated among his fellows, his home are partially the Freeport itself and partially his pirate train he had "acquired" a few months after his arrival on the Freeport. Humphrey is said to smuggle with Slaves and Cardamine quite often, he has been seen on Malta very often, personally, he despises slavery and drugs, though. The money is always what lightens his severity and eventually leads him into such business. Nevertheless, he attempts to treat the slaves more or less respectably, as he's actually a good guy in heart. And severe drugs he had never touched, especially not Cardamine. A clear disticntion from personal life and business life is a matter Humprey has succeeded at ever since. Despite all this, he's utterly attached to all forms of liquid containing a fair amount of alcohol. Never start off without a good "box woine" as you can often hear him shout, namely, a few bottles of preferrably stolen wine, whiskey and other alcoholic beverages suchlike are are always in range of his arms when on a trip.
As every Steelworker, Humphrey certainly aims for higher realms. Even though he's a well respected Unionist he's not more privileged than most of his fellows, though, seeing as he is said to be in good terms with the Union's leadership, he might rank up in the near future and advance a few changes he has been dreaming about for a long time but hasn't told anyone about it yet.