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Camp Tsisteel Day 180

Posted May 2, 2022, 5:02 p.m. by Civilian Rex Ariki (Resident) (Ty Napier)

Chains bound unseen feet, that did not move. Stand still restraints tightened, binding, becoming accustomed to lack of freedom, suppressing  free will. Torrid heat beat through flesh, tightening to sinew, absorbing into skin tainting soul with acceptance of fate. Movement was life. Stagnation death. Fight hard and long to the light, out of the shadows, passed the seven levels of hell. In this struggle was a desperation to justify life even existed. Stand still and die. Life was movement. Steel bit into the hardened earth pushed future by the heal of a heavy boot. The thud and the slicing sounds echoed from the outcrop of rocks just behind. Six months on and she was still here. Mysteries of what brought this one moment interrupted this single lifespan needed a new truth. Shovelling bits of decayed planet far from the reaches of OEDs prestige and civilisation was as inconceivable as faith without fear. Here or anywhere had no value. How much longer could she stay until the chains became visible and death took its claim? Keeping her mind distracted from the physical and pointless labour, shovel after shovel.

Rex counted how much she needed to purchase passage to her next destination. Plotting her departure from the clutching grasp of OED,  she felt the shovel sink into something much softer than crumbled rocks. Throwing the shovel to the side, Rex dropped to her knees and began moving the dirt and debris with her hands until he fingers touched the cloth bag hidden inside a small crevice. Someday, in another future, storms would rage in the heavens soaking roots of fertility, leaving paradise for those who will follow. Ends would give way to do new beginnings, such as and always was eternity. Fingers clutched the bag, imbedding dirt beneath brittle nails. This held the in-between of a story that was hers, bur not hers. Five, maybe six times, cracks of new starts splintered and the ends lay far ahead. Worlds faded, collided, darkened and shone brightly before fading to nothing once more. The inception, she supposed, was a kiss. For now, she needed a new story. 

Standing up, Rex placed the bag into the pocket of her blue and green coveralls and picked up the shovel, returning the rocks and dirt back into the hole she had dug. Just as she had finished, two figures approached from the east, shadowed by the sun sitting at high noon. Lifting her hand, she shielded the brightness with the long bone of her arm, just making out antennas protruding against the silhouette of the first. figure. Shenohl Th’ochaaval. No doubt as he was the only Andorran in the camp. Rex tightened her shoulders, feeling tension formed along the muscles of her neck and down to her ribcage. She didn’t like or trust the man. Often, sitting around the camp fire, she could feel his gaze shredding though the mingled voices of the rest of the crew, fixated on her as though he was attempting to recall an ancient memory through a fog that would not reveal itself. 

“Rex,” Shenohl’s deep baritone voice called out across the distance. “West power grid is fluctuating again. Better get moving before it goes down and we are all.....”

“I am coming,” Rex yelled out cutting the Andorian off before he could give a graphic detailed account of what would occur if the shields failed. Though that scenario was extremely unlikely to happen. Whoever had created the technology behind the nets and made a triple fail safe. Though it was troubling the same glitch was happening again. Hopefully she would have it sorted before evening meal was cold and enough time for a shower before the drum circles began, 

Slinging the shovel across her shoulder, Rex pushed one of the long snow white braids that had fallen across her chest back . Once, moons ago, when her skin was less weathered beaten and sun kissed, resembled more the sand beneath her feet, her hair hand been as dark as moonless night.  Many worshipped the sun as a deity, giver of life and punisher of the disobedient.  Too many long hours spent labouring under one sun or another’s heat had aged her too quickly. Rex pushed another braid back as she walked towards the ground vehicle. Even with one side of her head shaved short, the remaining braids were proving a nuisance. 

Stopping at the rear of the vehicle, Rex tossed the shovel inside and rubbed her hand across her tattooed covered chin before climbing in. “Hurry up Shenohl. I want to get this fixed and back to camp before all the fry bread is gone.” 

Shenohl laughed as he started up the motor. The Andorian really knew how to push Rex’s temper and never lost an opportunity to bait her. “You mean you want to get back to camp before Mashku pairs up tonight.” 

“Just drive you pouaru,” Rex sat back and closed her eyes, not paying attention to anything else that was said. The loll and sway of the vehicles movement making her sleepy and soon her chin fell forward. 

Rex Ariki, Civilian Engineer


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