Chapter Text
Sweat beaded down my forehead as I transported carts of unpolished gems on crooked mine tracks deep from within the quarry I had called home since I was a young child. My father got me into the trade early so I could climb the ranks quickly, yet here I was- still practically a shit shoveller in my own hometown. I wasn't afforded many privileges here, no matter my family's devotion they took to their graves. What really hit me when I approached a near exit to empty my mining carts of crystals just how filthy I was from the dirt, the grandeur of the rocks I carried outshining my presence.
Gniovis-4 is a rich mining planet with poor conditions for its denizens. Has been this way since before I was born and decades before then, too. The quality of Purphermigite mined here are considered top dollar once professionally cured and turned into currency- which is what makes the people living here of any value, though we all just called the mineral Purph for short. Once all currency was demanded to be sent to the Pug's officials, a ship that started orbiting the planet on occasion, we could do nothing but hand over our riches to the heavily armed forces on board. We were compensated for a time with rations of so-called food that resembled chocolate blocks and utilities for mining, before the forced labour began and appointing devoted citizens to become guards- grunts for the Pug officials.
That was when food was no longer a gift but something that was desperately fought for; my father would tell me these stories of our home planet while he taught me the difference between valuable gems and worthless stones. I'm told that my voice can sound gravelly at times possibly due to the amount of questions I would ask about this quarry while working by his side since the age of six. My lungs most likely reflected the dark of this underground tunnel I trudged through, though I still hummed to myself to get through the day. Father would also tell me stories of the time before the Pug officials arrived, a time when he was younger. We were only allowed to discuss this in private. He took care of me well, encouraged my love of song making and would write some with me that I now interpret as rebellious for the time.
Reaching the end of the tracks and adjacent tunnel entrance I was reminded of times I was younger, voice clearer and much more pure, I would yell these songs into the tunnels and get severely reprimanded by my father when caught. I never understood at the time why it was forbidden, but father told me the songs were not to be sung around the presence of the Pug's officials or guards. Only in a place we called our secret garden outside the walls of confinement and very far from the eyes of any guard with any sense of survival in case they were caught.
I'm stripped from my daydreams when a large but raggedy guard approaches my cart and gives me a quick visual inspection before directing me from under their clear gas mask,
"You are needed in the hanger upstairs immediately."
They hadn't addressed me by name directly, but figured I was the correct person from their thorough examination. I didn't put up any fight to the instructions and simply nodded, leaving my carts and humming behind while following the guard up the crafted stairs out of the mine.
Though most officials use traditional long ranged weapons such as guns, the guards of Gniovis-4 wield rusted pickaxes and shovels. I somehow found this more disturbing, imagining the times I had seen guards guided to beat citizens for things as mundane as fragmenting a Purph the size of my pinky nail. I knew better than to mess with them by this age, once having stepped too close into defiance and suffering the handle of a shovel to the stomach. Some guards simply took advantage of the power they were given and did away with people in the community who had wronged them personally. I saw the pleasure they gained from this cruel treatment first hand.
The guard walking ahead of me wordlessly escorted me to the elevator that separated the desert-like terrain of my planet's surface to the much less dustier interior of the metal walls where most officials and respected guards resided in the night. The bulkier guards would watch over our own quarters underground in the night, possibly the most frightening aspect of the quarry to me; a lurking presence that could strike in the dark. The houses littering the terrain used to belong to the miners I'm told, but now reside the guards who monitored the borders.
The elevator opened creakily and the guard gestured for me to step inside, weapon handle to my back as they impatiently shoved me inside and pressed the button which located the hanger I was so desperately needed in. There was no short talk and I noticed a moment into the elevator ride that I was holding my breath. Was it silent fear or anticipation, I wondered.
The door opened and I was pushed out as fast as I was pushed inside, the guards immediately greeting me with hostility. A pair of siblings I'd recognised from back in my school days who now held no remorse for the lower class, a tall boy with moles and girl with her hair sleeked back in a neat bun. I had forgotten their names at some point, so I was naturally surprised when the two called my own and instructed me to follow them to meet our top official, Danalite.
The two carried on a conversation about my inadequacy that I couldn't focus on since hearing her name. Danalite was disgusted by this planet and its people, yet works in the cleaner quarters begrudgingly. A stuck up bootlicker, but her name still rung in my ears until after an eternity we reach the intimidatingly tall doors of the hangar. The shorter sibling input a code and I was pushed in by the other as if the doorway were a line they weren't allowed to cross. I got one last look at them bickering as the doors closed with a loud clang.
I stood at the entrance very stiff and out of place from the clean officials around me, a commanding presence in the centre of the room taking my full attention. Top officials guarding Danalite herself, her long nail pointing towards me and beckoning me over. Dread sank in and my legs stepped towards her on their own- in the back of my mind I figured I'd be killed whether I approached her or not. She ordered when I was close enough to stop with a stern palm covering her face, squinting as if looking at such a dirty person could somehow transfer the dust onto her spotless, military-style dress.
Danalite lowered her hand and forced a smile, lips pulled so thin her lipstick was hardly visible anymore,
"Congratulations, you'll be training our new miners..." Her tone of voice was so naturally sarcastic I questioned in my mind if she was joking for a second, but her inquisitive expression said she expected me to respond.
"Thank you, Madam," I muttered with a small 'ahem' to clear my throat, which also seemed to disgust the woman. She simply gave a toothless smile and directed the official behind her who held a folded guard uniform to pass it to me with her dangerously long fingernails.
And they passed it to me without another word, Danalite excusing herself from the conversation as that official took over her role of explaining my new position,
"You will dress in these before you meet the recruits. They arrive in ten minutes, the bathrooms are to the left of the exit." It was immediate what was expected of me and I simply nodded, too taken aback to speak.
But that's how simple it is around these parts; show enough devotion to your work and you'd be recruited by the Pug. No fancy meetings or lavish promotion, only a uniform that held no meaning to my now former co-workers in the tunnels- but plenty to the other officials and guards as I was now seen as one of them. On their side but not quite an equal.
I stepped into the small corridor bathroom and slid into the uniform, part of me wishing I had time to wash away the grime underneath. No matter, I'd address that another time when I'm not under a time limit. I look at myself in the mirror in the uniform I so despised seeing my former peers wear, the see through mask practically useless when my face was already covered in filth. What truly felt dirty was wearing the uniform in the first place, but I dared not argue with Danalite. Not directly to her unsightly face at least.
I left my mining clothes behind when I strutted back out of the bathroom- the laundry problem for another guard to deal with. The officials who were beside Danalite now had scattered and I only noticed the ones waiting by the doors with their weapons in hand. I wondered if I would be issued one too, maybe an awful thought to have though when I heard the humming of an incoming ship outside the hangar walls I wished for any kind of protection knowing my meak body wasn't enough to take on any number of people.
I hadn't even had the time to consider how the new recruits would behave- everything was moving too fast for me. How many would there be? Why were they here in the first place?
Then the hangar opened, a cargo ship that was as loud as any scream I'd ever heard dropping in by the door that seemed to fold inward on itself when it opened upwards. The sight was so unlike anything I'd seen before I nearly hadn't noticed the armed officials approach behind me in a formation. My mind raced with theories- did they dress me up like this to put on a show in front of the newcomers by executing one of their own? That would certainly send a message. But I kept my breathing as steady as I could and focused on the cargo ship's door opening as it landed and shook the ground beneath me. I was prepared for anything- fists gripped and unshakable.
A dozen or so people dressed in identical robes and joined by officials with real guns, guided down the ramp towards me. I took note of all of them, chains around their wrists and they staggered off the cramped ship usually only meant to carry food for the officials down from the Pug. Most were not short in stature but seemed equally as meek as I appeared with all their mouths clamped shut- besides one of them. A man who seemed to be keeping up a one-sided conversation with one of the gun slinging soldiers. I started to think nobody else had wanted this position of training what looked like a group of stowaway drifters who wanted nothing to do with each other- that's possibly why I was dragged in.
No matter, I think to myself. Get it done right or not at all, my father's voice echoed in my mind.
"Single file!" I announce loud enough to get every one of their attentions, and I was honestly in shock when they did as told. The officials with guns stood behind them like a firing squad, and I took a moment to clear my throat while the chatting man finally quieted down. I tried to put on as authoritative of a voice as I could manage so I could be taken seriously by the veteran officials surrounding the hangar, not so focused on how the people ahead of me perceived what they heard,
"I will show you to your work stations, and at sundown your quarters." I neglected to mention the mess hall to try impress my devotion to this new job by declining the newcomers from a hearty dinner. I don't think this got the attention of anyone but the starved recruits with sunken eyes, unfortunately. I kicked myself internally for that move.
Before my silence could become mistaken for inexperience one of the officials from the cargo ship strode up to me and handed me a keychain with about 18 keys, immediately realising these were for the cuffs around their wrists, hardly able to hold it in my grasp.
"Put 'em to work. In your hands now," the official bitterly said before stepping back on board with the rest of their trigger pullers. Everybody stepped back as the craft took off again in an instant, the hangar door shutting dramatically. I jolted at the sound of it's weight hitting the floor, which one of the recruits from the corner of my eyes seemed to take notice of. The same man who was talking off the official's ear- was I the next target of his rantings?
Before I could think on it I simply turned around towards the same door I had entered through while adjusting the keychain around my belt buckle,
"Follow me."
The same pair of sibling guards who had escorted me inside the hangar also escorted me out, though expressing less hatred towards me now I wore the same uniform as they did. They were quieter, more concise as the elevator packed with the new recruits. I crammed my way in a little hesitantly to work the buttons, leading us outside to the quarry's entrance. Even in this ship the elevator seemed to struggle and rock with the weight pressing down on it.
My thoughts were honestly more occupied with the people around me to be worried about an elevator failure. We're any of these people violent? Violent enough to try and strangle their escort with their chains? I held my breath and tensed up, hoping this fear wasn't visible. A nudge on my shoulder made me jump out of my skin, feeling the adrenaline all the way inside my bones when I turned to see a tall, bulky man to my side.
I got a better look at him being this close up, clear it was the same man who stole my attention earlier when he said in a quiet whisper,
"You got a lot to learn about bein' a leader, sweetheart." It's at this moment I wish I had a shovel or pickaxe just to shut him up.
This wish was practically granted when the elevator door opened and I was met with the same shaggy guard from earlier wielding another shovel in his hands, abruptly shoving it into my arms and returning down into the mines. I stood in shock for a moment as I looked it over, then swallowed my morals as I gathered the group and gestured them to follow me down into the dark tunnel. One of the smaller girls ran off immediately, and I could only sigh as I watch her stumble and fall as she just kept on trembling. I didn't go after her when she stood up and ran towards the greenery, figured that was someone else's job...
"She won't last long," I muttered under my breath, the gaze of some of the recruits burning into me like I was insulting her. Really I was just observing what I saw as the truth before turning everyone's attention back,
"Alright. Let's head inside." The privilege of letting this group mine without restrains on their arms was a luxury for tomorrow's shift. Besides, sundown wasn't too far away now, they wouldn't suffer the cuffs much longer unlike the girl who was trying to escape. The fate she would meet would not come from a new guard like myself but likely either starvation or a well fitted guard roaming the borders of town.
Grim but honest thoughts, that's all I could muster in my shock of having just encountered Danalite, thoughtlessly leading the newcomers down into the dim mine that stretched on and on. My father's stories of Danalite started flooding my mind as footsteps became background noise- stories of how she was so cosmetically altered the only thing keeping her porcelain skin to her muscles being pins, hence her nickname the Pincushion among workers. She looked as frightening in person as her tales described and acting like such a priss didn't gather any respect from me unless demanded.
Deep in thought the now familiar southern voice of the rambling man started to fill the halls, enough to dizzy me,
"So what're we mining for, Officer? Could it be silken gold or something more dangerous- radioactive, perhaps? Can't image it'll be too comfortable to sleep on a glowing stone, but I've had worse. Are there showers here? Last planet I ventured we had to stand in the scolding rain!" He chuckled like this was no big deal for him, clearly bothering some of the other newcomers by this point in their travels.
I did as the officials on the cargo ship did and ignored his words- besides, being referred to as officer for the first time felt wrong. It was a name I didn't want to respond to but knew I must become accustomed to if I wanted to survive. No matter how awkward the silence, the man continued holding a conversation with himself that I couldn't help getting a bit invested in. I finally lifted my glassy mask and wiped the ash from my face, looking over my shoulder every now and then to assure I was still leading the same amount of people.
Besides some unhappy and malnourished faces, only the southern man stood out to me. Loud and rebellious, I wonder what I'd gotten myself into. I pray he won't bring out the worst in me. In between his never ending words I spoke up, harsher than I intended to sound,
"What's your name? Unless you wanna stick with the nickname of loud mouth." He only smiled at this, I'm sure he's heard it a million times over by now so I wasn't doing any more damage.
"Ezra," he spoke with confidence, seeming a little disappointed when my only reaction was a nod and bringing down my mask again as we all ventured further into the quarry. I needn't acknowledge Ezra's foolishness and proved to show this when we start work. He would take my place in mining Purph in lights that flickered somehow attracted moths despite being so far underground. A miracle of Gniovis-4, I suppose.
I share my name with the group when we arrive at the absent site, though I knew nobody would likely remember it, so I handed them the rusted tools laying by the wall and instructed them to work. I made it very clear not to let any shattered gems be seen, neither pocketed as they'd be inspected daily by multiple guards. And for once I was the one standing back while the chained recruits got to work with their small flashlights and tools.
I felt a hypocrite on every level, especially when feeling Ezra's eyes on me. What was it that intrigued him so? I must make time to dissect that mind freely without the eyes and ears of guards. This uniform still doesn't fit me yet, it seems.