"Comforting Ghosts"
~The weather station at Tanjoon was not considered a 'hardship post', more of a 'hardening post', a place where one was toughened up mentally. Its armored structure floated upon the waves of the magnetosphere of the gas giant, with a massive physical tether dropped deep into the dense and roiling atmosphere. Both were heavily embedded with sensors.
Tanjoon Station had a few hundred Mandriods doing the actual work. The Tech Trikona on board - all Junior Lieutenants - simply 'supervised' them. But Space Force liked keeping a close watch on things. One never knew when The Universe would turn around and try to bite you. Best to have some Sisters on site.
Sari looked out the portal in her quarters at mountains of clouds lit a harsh, brilliant violet. She was listening to ballads from Ancient Earth, a collection her predecessor had left. She had become quite fond of them and had even come to understand the lyrics without a translator. The language was the foundation of Standart after all.
Her shift would start soon. In all likelihood, nothing eventful would happen. The next gas harvesting fleet was scheduled to arrive in another Standard Week and Tanjoon's weather was predicted to be calm. Of her TrikMates, Lilla would still be sleeping and Nasita would be finishing up. They'd share some caf and chat a bit before switching over.
Tooli, Sari's Pleasure Server/Body Servant, was sleeping soundly in his cubicle. She'd worn him out last cycle. She smiled at that thought, stretched languidly. One of her favorite ballads started playing. These songs had gotten her to study the period in depth.
They were all recorded by women during the middle of The Century of Global War. Odd that such beauty could come out of such pure madness and horror. Tens of millions of dead. Hundreds of burning cities. Numberless nuclear detonations inside Mother's biosphere. Even for The Time of Men, it was an awful epoch, a dangerous and lethal period that ultimately led to the conclusion that The Male must end.
She discovered that the subject of the song, crooned about so lovingly, had been largely obliterated within a century or so of the song's recording, battered flat, then wiped off the map during The Age of Storms. For Sari that summed up so much of what The Time of Men was about. They seemed to destroy everything they cherished.
She sighed at that thought as she slipped on her Service Skin Suit. Time to start her shift. She listened to the last refrain linger; “...you're going to fall in love with Old Cape Cod,” its ancient beauty comforting her out here on The Far Edge of The Sisterhood. She smiled, then went meet Nasita for that caf.
Tanjoon Station had a few hundred Mandriods doing the actual work. The Tech Trikona on board - all Junior Lieutenants - simply 'supervised' them. But Space Force liked keeping a close watch on things. One never knew when The Universe would turn around and try to bite you. Best to have some Sisters on site.
Sari looked out the portal in her quarters at mountains of clouds lit a harsh, brilliant violet. She was listening to ballads from Ancient Earth, a collection her predecessor had left. She had become quite fond of them and had even come to understand the lyrics without a translator. The language was the foundation of Standart after all.
Her shift would start soon. In all likelihood, nothing eventful would happen. The next gas harvesting fleet was scheduled to arrive in another Standard Week and Tanjoon's weather was predicted to be calm. Of her TrikMates, Lilla would still be sleeping and Nasita would be finishing up. They'd share some caf and chat a bit before switching over.
Tooli, Sari's Pleasure Server/Body Servant, was sleeping soundly in his cubicle. She'd worn him out last cycle. She smiled at that thought, stretched languidly. One of her favorite ballads started playing. These songs had gotten her to study the period in depth.
They were all recorded by women during the middle of The Century of Global War. Odd that such beauty could come out of such pure madness and horror. Tens of millions of dead. Hundreds of burning cities. Numberless nuclear detonations inside Mother's biosphere. Even for The Time of Men, it was an awful epoch, a dangerous and lethal period that ultimately led to the conclusion that The Male must end.
She discovered that the subject of the song, crooned about so lovingly, had been largely obliterated within a century or so of the song's recording, battered flat, then wiped off the map during The Age of Storms. For Sari that summed up so much of what The Time of Men was about. They seemed to destroy everything they cherished.
She sighed at that thought as she slipped on her Service Skin Suit. Time to start her shift. She listened to the last refrain linger; “...you're going to fall in love with Old Cape Cod,” its ancient beauty comforting her out here on The Far Edge of The Sisterhood. She smiled, then went meet Nasita for that caf.