Setting
Colony 3 is the newest of three colonies built by the Smicht-Goldston Corporation on the planet Artemis. It was originally concieved because Colony 1 and Colony 2 had reached maximum population capacity, but the site was chosen because this region of the planet was rich in mineral resources, and mining provides most of Colony 3's income.
Outside the colony's protective dome is a dense jungle, most of which is unexplored.
Outside the colony's protective dome is a dense jungle, most of which is unexplored.
Colony 3
Welcome to Colony 3, the most advanced extrasolar living complex in the galaxy, presented by Smicht-Goldston Incorporated!
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
Setting
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S chased her sister through the streets of the Commercial Complex. "Stella, wait! Where are you going?"
Stella weaved in-between two passing DADs. "Hold up, citizen!" they said simontaneously in their mechanically-accented voices, "What is the trouble?"
Stella ignored them and kept running. The DADs turned on S, standing in front of her and preventing her from following the younger girl through a narrow alley. "Provide identification," demanded both of them at once.
"Okay, uh," S stammered as she pulled off her laniard, which had her employee tags hanging on it. "Artemis Stevenson," read the tags, next to a mugshot of her, "Recreation Steward. Age: 19. Hair: RED. Eye: BRO. # 10923." She handed over the laniard to one of the robots.
"Please," she pleaded, although she knew it was pointless. The drones did not understand such things. "That's my sister."
"Identity confirmed," said the DAD, who returned S's tags to her. "You will wait here until a security officer arrives."
Two more robots appeared around the corner, surrounding her. All four had the guns which passed for their left arms pointed directly at her.
That part did not worry S. The DADs possessed a very limited ability for moral judgement, so whenever they suspected you might be a criminal, they were programmed to keep you still until a human officer could show up to assess the situation. Good programming, she thought, as it prevented unnecessary deaths and kept people from feeling like they were living in a robot-controlled dictatorship, but it was in her way at the moment.
She looked up and saw with surprise that Stella had climbed the building to her left and was standing on top of it.
"You brat!" shouted S, "Get down from there!"
S regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. "You brat," indeed. S loved Stella with all her heart, she was just bad at saying such things--especially when she was upset.
"Why?" called Stella back, her voice echoing in the alley. "So you can yell at me some more? Or so I can keep working and working for nothing at all, then go home and sleep then wake right back up and go back to work where you can treat me like your little bitch?"
"Please do not raise your voice at night," commanded one of the DADs in a hypocritically loud, but as always totally emotionless voice, "as this may disturb the sleep of other colonists."
"Even the machines here think I'm worthless!" cried the child.
"Stella," demanded S once more, "Get down here now!"
Stella, standing at the very edge of the roof, let herself fall.
Stella weaved in-between two passing DADs. "Hold up, citizen!" they said simontaneously in their mechanically-accented voices, "What is the trouble?"
Stella ignored them and kept running. The DADs turned on S, standing in front of her and preventing her from following the younger girl through a narrow alley. "Provide identification," demanded both of them at once.
"Okay, uh," S stammered as she pulled off her laniard, which had her employee tags hanging on it. "Artemis Stevenson," read the tags, next to a mugshot of her, "Recreation Steward. Age: 19. Hair: RED. Eye: BRO. # 10923." She handed over the laniard to one of the robots.
"Please," she pleaded, although she knew it was pointless. The drones did not understand such things. "That's my sister."
"Identity confirmed," said the DAD, who returned S's tags to her. "You will wait here until a security officer arrives."
Two more robots appeared around the corner, surrounding her. All four had the guns which passed for their left arms pointed directly at her.
That part did not worry S. The DADs possessed a very limited ability for moral judgement, so whenever they suspected you might be a criminal, they were programmed to keep you still until a human officer could show up to assess the situation. Good programming, she thought, as it prevented unnecessary deaths and kept people from feeling like they were living in a robot-controlled dictatorship, but it was in her way at the moment.
She looked up and saw with surprise that Stella had climbed the building to her left and was standing on top of it.
"You brat!" shouted S, "Get down from there!"
S regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. "You brat," indeed. S loved Stella with all her heart, she was just bad at saying such things--especially when she was upset.
"Why?" called Stella back, her voice echoing in the alley. "So you can yell at me some more? Or so I can keep working and working for nothing at all, then go home and sleep then wake right back up and go back to work where you can treat me like your little bitch?"
"Please do not raise your voice at night," commanded one of the DADs in a hypocritically loud, but as always totally emotionless voice, "as this may disturb the sleep of other colonists."
"Even the machines here think I'm worthless!" cried the child.
"Stella," demanded S once more, "Get down here now!"
Stella, standing at the very edge of the roof, let herself fall.
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