A man appears on screen, carrying some sort of animal in his hands, and walking around room. His face wasnt visibile, but you could heard he's young, by his voice. After few seconds, he stopped, sat on a chair infront of camera and started talking:
God. Newcomers... Lame. I ask you something, and you answer me something else. Dude, listen to me. What do you think about us? Who are we? What would we do in situations with Baffies, Miners? Planetform?
He lights up a cigarette.
You see, Underloch is not just a random group of tree-huggers. Underloch is a way of life, quite diffrent from usual style of Gaian life. We are not pirates. We are not tree-huggers. We are not peace-lovers. And we are definetly not Corsair's puppets. Do you understand that? Could you accept this way of life? Do you have same thoughts like we do?
He shrugs.
Boy, this is not a joke. Either you share same ideology like we do, and we accept you in our ranks, or you think that Underloch is group of hippies or whatnot. In this case, you can say bye bye to us. Now, answer my questions above, or just give up. Getting into our ranks isnt easy, so try harder.
Well, sir, do you not think that I do not have the need to state the obvious? Hell, I am already a Gaian, and I've worked with the Underloch before. I know exactly what events you partake in. Of course i know what the hell is up with big corporations like the damn Planetform. You don't pirate them, but stop them from further damage to Gaia. What the Underloch deals with is practically everything I deal with. And i know that we are not to be bothered by the Corsairs. For Christ's sake, they eat their own damn race! I'd be scared to be anywhere near one of those cannibals.
Please, do not treat me as a 'newcomer' or 'rookie'. I am sure as hell not one. Give me a Roc with EMPs and a SNAC, and send me your best men to fight me. I assure you that you will never see any of them again. I am not to be underestimated, you'd be damn glad to have me on your side, rather than against you.
A man appears on screen, carrying some sort of animal in his hands, and walking around room. His face wasnt visibile, but you could heard he's young, by his voice. After few seconds, he stopped, sat on a chair infront of camera and started talking:
Aha, you are finally sayin' stuff I like to hear. Tell me more!
He starts laughing.
So... You seem okay here, over all those transmissions you are sending to me. But actually, you could send them from some Baffie office on New London, and trick us to accept you so you can backstab us.
He lights up a cigarette.
So here's standart procedure. Take your ship, and meet me in Edinbourgh. You dont have ship? Eh.. There will be one waiting for you on that Junkie base in New London. Just... Just come to Edinbourgh, I'l find ya. And then you gotta pass a test. Be ready boy, this one will be tough.
[A video feed, rippled by occasional spasms of static, displays on the communications screen of the recruitment office of the Gaian Underloch. The background is pitch black, as is the foreground. A tiny flicker comes to life, illuminating a woman sitting in a plain chair. Gaunt is the first word to describe her. The flicker dies, only to be reborn. It comes from a lighter that the woman is caressing in her hands. This continues for a minute, each tongue of flame casting shadows where before there was only pure shadow. She speaks, quietly.]
"Fire... it sweeps and burns without discrimination. Forests love fire, you know. It burns the old, leaves a pile of ash, and then from that ash grows a new, vibrant forest where before there was just aging trees and dying underbrush."
[Throughout her small soliloquy, the flame had continued to come to its brief existence and be snuffed. As she finishes speaking and pauses for a moment, she lets the flame continue. Her gaze is fixed intently on the flame, as if it is her sole audience.]
"I love fire. People anymore spend their entire lives trying to stop fire, when all they're trying to do is stop the natural order of things, that a force greater than us should sweep away that which is old, and usher in the new. But you... you know better. And I respect that. I'd like to join you, to help the fire spread."
[Her gaze turns from the flame and looks directly into the camera.]
"You can call me Pyro."
[The video feed dies, but a Comm ID is left for a return message to be sent.]
A man appears on screen, carrying some sort of animal in his hands, and walking around room. His face wasnt visibile, but you could heard he's young, by his voice. After few seconds, he stopped, sat on a chair infront of camera and started talking:
Okay, this was boring to watch. So I'l be quick. Pyro... Fire? So you wanna burn our bases down? Sure, go ahead. Pyro...
He starts laughing.
So, dude. You said so much about yourself. Or not? Then, do it! You didnt gave me some nice first impression, so try to fix that. How? Let's talk. Who are you? Where do you come from? Why do you wanna join us? And most important, who do you think we, Underloch are?
I thought the Gaians of all people would enjoy the symbolism, if not the theatrics. Pity. I don't want to burn your bases down. I don't want to burn your enemy's bases down. I'm not insane. What fire represents though, that's the beautiful thing. It represents change. People resist change. Some people might argue that you resist change in that you oppose terraforming, but that's not true. People try to force the world to fit their schemata, and terraforming is just a tool of that. You threaten to shake up how people view the world, and for that they despise you, as they despise fire. Burn a man's house down and he will be despondent for what he has lost. Burn someone's world and they won't be able to see the gift they've been given, the fresh start.
I lost everything in Kusari. I was a hunter. I killed men and women by the dozens. Before that, and during that, I was a Bounty Hunter. But my world burned for it. And I realize the pure, abject hatred (for all things Kusarian) that had consumed me. I almost died for it. I'm from Bretonia, and so to Bretonia I return. There is nothing left for me here but an empty title. I look around and see people consumed with the same anger and hatred that held me, and I know that something has to change that. People have to be shown how different their lives could be, if they would only embrace the change.
That is who I am, who I was, and who I think you are.
A man appears on screen, carrying some sort of animal in his hands, and walking around room. His face wasnt visibile, but you could heard he's young, by his voice. After few seconds, he stopped, sat on a chair infront of camera and started talking:
Changes.. Changes.. Why? When something's the way it should be, why change? Seems you dont get it. We are last people that should change. Why? Well, if we change, others wont. And Bretonia, including Gaia will disappear in Planetform's and BMM's greed. And if all of them change, change their goals, and way of life, we would lost our job, and be forced to change.
He lights up a cigarette.
So here's the deal. We dont want change, for now... You're either like us, or you're like Baffies and other scum that pollutes space, and do all horrible things. So, on whose side are you? Let me quote you... You wont burn our bases, and you wont burn our enemy's bases either. Well how do you want to make those changes? By politics? Sorry dude, we already tried, and it doesnt work. This is only approach that can make some change. And our approach is, using violence, and guerilla tactics, to make as much damage we could do, with less casualties.
And why the hell am I talking all this to you? Damn, I should keep my mouth closed sometimes. Anyways.. All those things I said, I wanted to hear from you. We arent bunch of people with all kind of opinions. We are strong because we are one. Many of us, with same ideology, and same goals. That's what makes us strong.
So there are two choices for you. Think like us, and make us even stronger. Or, have your own opinion, with your 'changes' and something, and leave forever. We dont want people like that with us.
I don't want you to change. The Gaians are fine as they are. You want other people to change, and you want to do that through violence. I understand. Let me be a bit more blunt then, 'dude.' I'll blow up ships and convoys and blow up bases (I meant literally burning bases, that's stupid since bases aren't technically flammable). Because if they don't change, if the people of Bretonia, the "Baffies," and even beyond that humanity in general, if they keep consuming and hating each other, then we will destroy ourselves. And the only way to change them to realize that you -- we -- are right, is by fire. Or violence. Since you're right, politics is a bunch of ****e.
With that said, people won't change. Sadly, it's true. Still, they can see the fire, which is the price of their error.
A man appears on screen, carrying some sort of animal in his hands, and walking around room. His face wasnt visibile, but you could heard he's young, by his voice. After few seconds, he stopped, sat on a chair infront of camera and started talking:
Now that's better. You finally realized what I wanted to hear. Good, good. I like you. Well, what else to say? You're in.
The person wearing the helmet is walking down the corridors of the Luxury-Liner Shetland, who ever it is behind the camera clearly knows their way around the ship and is known by the crew and some of the guests as many smile and wave as the camera walks down the halls. After walking down a long corridor the camera turns into the security room, the security guard sitting at one of the desks stands up.
"Sir, the transport bound for the service is fueled and the VIPs will be boarding it within 10 minutes. she will be air born within 15." Says the guard now standing at attention.
"Good, inform it's captain that I will be over seeing the flight and to wait for me to board before taking off." Said the voice behind the Camera as he turned to load a rifle and a large pistol into his holsters.
The video cuts to hanger bay and the camera walking up the ramp onto Yacht waiting to take the select VIPs down to planet Gaia for their tour of the small area of the planet they had paid hundreds of millions to see. As the camera walks up the bay the two security guards on either side of the door snap to attention and salute.
Once aboard the ship the video feed changes from the helmet-cam to the security footage from the yacht.
The man whose helmet-cam footage had been playing can be seen for the first time, he is a young man in his late-twenties dressed in a camouflage jacket with an armored vest underneath. The scars on his face covered in in a full beard of red hair in stark contrast to the buzzed jet black hair seen under his helmet.
He walks towards the cockpit and sits outside waiting for the ship to take off before walking in.
"How far are we from reaching the atmosphere of Gaia?"He asks. "About two minutes Mr Baker.Says the pilot. "Good, set course to hold in the upper atmosphere a minute I want to have a word with our passengers before we land. come back into the cabin once we reach target." He says before walking back into the cabin with the passengers and and two additional security guards.
When the pilot and the rest of the crew walked into the cabin they sat down and prepared for the speech that was usually given on these tips before landing. It was usually the same speech about how Gaia is a some what dangerous place and that the passengers are not to touch anything, though they wondered why they were asked to listen they didn't complain.
"Gaia is a wonderful planet, she is lush, green, and contains more life forms then can possibly be counted and studied. I have had the pleasure to lead many tours such as this one to her surface and walk among her fields with some of the richest people in all of sirius, such as yourselves here today. He said with a smile looking around the room.
"Sadly the years of tourism and pollution spewed by the Shetland and left behind by rich slobs such as you all have nearly destroyed her. None of you will be making it to the planets surface and pretty soon the Shetland will be nothing more then a scrap heap for the Junkers to pick through."
With those final words he unslung his rifle and pointed it to the passengers and crew now turned hostages. The two security guards in the back followed suit.
"Now then, lets keep this nice and orderly. Empty your wallets, your hand bags, and pass up any and all jewelry and watches you've got on and things will go a lot smoother here. Once you've passed over your belongings take a step out the air lock my associates have been kind enough to open for you."
One by one the passengers slowly started passing up their belongings, the captain of the yacht brought them up to Milo and placed them all at his feet.
"Milo.. why are you doing this? there has to be some other way all of these people Milo we didn't do anything wrong... please...The captain pleaded "You are all part of the cause, if it weren't for you idiots paying hundreds of millions to effectively destroy none of this would be a problem! NOW OUT THE AIR LOCK ALL OF YOU!"He screamed firing a burst of bullets into the pleading captains chest.
One by one the rest of the passengers and crew stepped out the airlock and fell to there death on the planet below.
The video fades out to show Milo sitting in the cockpit of a bomber.
My name is Milo Baker, former senior security officer aboard the Luxury-liner Shetland. The video you just watched took place one week ago on a yacht full of rich passengers bound for a surface tour of Planet Gaia. I realized a long time ago that OS&C was killing Gaia, I hope the video proves my allegiance to the Underloch. I'll keep this channel open should you choose to accept me in your ranks.
Discordianism: the Schroedinger's Cat of religions.
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