Tales of the Admins

[Garrett Jax]

Garrett Jax jolted awake to the blaring klaxon alarms at the Temple of the Damned. The immediate disruption of his sleep started his heart racing. Red warning lights flashed across his room. An alert to some sort of emergency brought him immediately to his feet.

What are the foolish mortals doing now, he wondered? His mind raced through the various possibilities. Maybe some mortal found a way to manufacture credits from thin air again? Or, maybe some repeat offender found his way back from banishment and covertly integrated themselves amongst society. Or, maybe an entire faction decided to act outside the rules prescribed for them by the admins. The possibilities were endless.

Garrett raced down the hallway, making his way to the Rules Violation Reports Room. He fired up the monitor to see what kind of rule violation had been committed. The entire staff might have to be consulted. There would be serious debate. Arguments and counter-arguments would fly across the room as both the veracity of the violation was discussed and or the severity of the punishment. Finally, an admin would step up to the plate and publicly announce the decision. The viewscreen came into focus and the suspected violation appeared on the monitor.

Foolish Mortal accused of being AFK.

Garrett rolled his eyes. That’s it, he asked? Is this all the foolishness these Mortals can muster? Some part of him was relieved that it wasn’t more serious. There was a time when the Rules Violation reports ran pages long. Admins burned themselves out trying to keep up. The Mortals ran wild, and admin attrition was at an all-time high. Even he had stepped aside from the green jacket, because of the workload. Now things were much different.

Garrett shut the monitor off with a sigh. He would deal with the violation, but it wasn’t worth losing any more sleep over. Something was different with the Mortals now. After years of being away, he noted a lack of fire, of enthusiasm, in their activities. The lack of violation reports was good, but it was one of many signs that pointed to a general attitude that troubled him. They seemed to live in fear. Not so much a fear of admins, but a fear of upsetting each other.

This fear was healthy, but it seemed to go too far. Garrett watched the mortals engage in their mundane activity. Those that were part of the military stood on their hands, with no one to fight. His once favorite group of Mortals, the Liberty Police, with their delicious coffee, were rarely corrupt. Pirates were unbelievably polite to traders. Some Junkers refused to break laws. Corporations no longer pirated one another. Everyone stayed in their own respective space and as a result, nothing occurred.

What the hell happened?

The Mortals need conflict, Garrett observed. They thrive best when there is struggle. There was a stirring of activity when he maneuvered events in such a way to manufacture struggle. Like stomping on an ant hill and watching all the ants scramble. However, after the event, the activity would stop and everything returned to the same boring peace that seemed to kill all enthusiasm. Occasionally, even his efforts to spur activity among some of the mortals was a challenge. It was if he had to personally convince them that conflict was good for them. What used to come naturally now had to be forced due to an undue fear that prevailed among them.

The militaries need someone to fight. The police need something to enforce. The unlawfuls need incentive to smuggle. The pirates need traders to harass. Traders need something to fear. That is the circle of life among the mortals.

Garrett made his way back to bed. This was going to be a challenge, but something had to be done. The alarms finally stopped blaring. The lights stopped flashing. However, the actual emergency was yet to be resolved. Something had to change. Garrett Jax finally went back to sleep dreaming of all the chaos and conflict that needed to be injected in the Mortals to bring them back to life.

---