A monitor in a bar is showing a complex weave of stone buildings and waterways in a floating city, as a solemn string melody plays.
Then it cuts to what looks like a stone indoor pool. There are what I can only describe as a half fish half human person, and a mixture of fish and reptile on balance balls. Both are wearing suits and neckties, and bow towards the camera.
“Good morning, this is the Brefilmora Prime news.”
“Our top story this week is the attack on Lumomo Fourth. Updates are still coming in.”
They show an outside photo of the eight spheres that compose Lumomo Fourth, and a giant octopus behind it with its tentacles up like it’s going to attack.
“Why did space urchin and octopuses attack? And why did the ones responsible not prevent it before it happened? We have new information.”
“First, we have received reports that giant space octopuses are a semi-intelligent culture that raises space urchin like cattle. “
There’s a disclaimer saying this footage is an AI representation, and it shows an octopus comically throwing urchin into power lines. It also shows them breeding them in a facility with an electric fence.
“In recent years, space urchin have been said to be Lumomo Fourth’s main industry, but these were bred by space octopuses. Therefore, Brefilmora Prime believes that space octopuses invaded with the goal of using nuclear fusion reactors to breed space urchin.”
“Not many beings have adapted to the harsh environment of space, but there are many examples throughout the galaxy of such beings wanting to use colonies as breeding grounds.”
Of course, it’s the job of the people running the colonies to stop said attacks, they say while shaking their heads with stiff expressions.
“How did space octopuses and urchin sneak Lumomo Fourth? We have conducted interviews with hard working colonists to investigate why managers were not held accountable.”
It shows an unknown dwarf, with only the bottom half of his face visible and his voice altered to protect his privacy.
“Those managers are awful. They’re supposed to have been doing this for generations, but they’re awful to the lower classes! They’ve been hearing reports about urchin infiltrations for half a year and ignored them!”
It shows the comical image of a bearded dwarf hitting urchin with a sledgehammer.
“When I told them it would affect the electrical net, they handed me a sledgehammer and told me to go kill them! They didn’t want to hire Town rank mercenaries! Can you believe this? We’re proud of maintaining the colony!”
It cuts back to the studio, where they keep talking with somber expressions.
“It cannot be denied that some people have lost sight of their purpose. But the fact that said people were managing a colony is a problem that cannot be ignored.”
“Why was the invasion of space urchin not stopped in the first place? Why were workers the only ones being responsible? There is only one answer, the rashness of management.”
The monitor shows a large water tank with algae and shrimp, a camera monitoring the production of food cartridges.
Why is it showing that? The reason is soon clear. The giant urchin in the middle of the production facility.
“Ever since urchin were discovered in Lumomo Fourth, the managers insisted that they should be bred and sold. However, the results of closed testing damaged the facility, and were hard to ignore. Their appeals were rejected for a hundred years, given the dangers involved.”
“However, the managers decided they had enough information, and a year ago, began the culture of space urchin, unlicensed by Brefilmora Prime.”
The media concluded that as a result of all this, facilities were damaged, urchin escaped, space octopuses were led there, and it led to the blackout. A panel shows Brefilmora Prime reached the same conclusion.
“Brefilmora Prime is taking this situation very seriously, and has decided to freeze the assets and people of the managerial family. They will be spending a hundred years in a cryopreservation station with frozen urchin.”
“A large hole has been opened in the operation of the colony, which under recommendation from Galactic Credit Union Alliance, will be ruled by mechanical intelligence.”
The tone turns bright, as the BGM also becomes more cheerful and the presenters smile.
“But Brefilmora and Lumomo Fourth were saved by a mercenary and a proud mechanic, who minimized damage. Without them, the eighth sphere of Lumomo Fourth would have split in half.”
“Yes, while some families forget their duties for the sake of money, some citizens work honestly for rewards.”
It shows a dwarf and a half fish person working together underground, killing octopuses and urchin. And of course, it says it’s an AI reproduction.
“Media of all sizes has been busy talking about this mercenary who heard about the colony and came here to sight see, and did a lot once the power went out and he found himself in a blackout.”
“Yes, truly wonderful. His efforts hastened the recovery of the environment control device and life support system, and he succeeded in bringing light to the dark colony.”
They show an octopus eating urchin on top of a colony, and a giant laser hitting it between the eyes. The ship firing said laser has the fish logo of a popular manufacturer from Brefilmora, and the bottom right corner says this is AI generated imagery.
“This mercenary also offered Brefilmora Prime information about the octopuses’ weak point, meaning the army could deal with them quickly and clean up the many octopuses that had invaded the colony.
“Truly wonderful. Many people stayed true to their occupation and prevented damage from escalating.”
They cut to a stone memorial monument.
“A ceremony lamenting the victims in Lumomo Fourth is underway, and mechanical intelligence is being sent by the Alliance to make sure this never happens again.”
“But shouldn’t there have been mechanisms in place to make sure the managers did not overstep their authority? As the mass media, we feel a strong responsibility to pursue the truth and…”
“They changed my race!!”
“Brefilmora Prime is managed by half fish people!”
I’m in a bar in Lumomo Fourth, a colony under reconstruction. I came here to have a drink after Dwight contacted me. And everyone else tagged along, under the guise of guarding me. Everyone except Iris spread out once they saw Dwight is a man, and started drinking.
Can we even go to a broken colony, I asked, but since maintenance robots are busy servicing it, there’s no problem, I was told. But can they accomplish that much in three days, I thought, and apparently they even have a memorial monument.
We’ve been questioned by inspectors of Brefilmora for three days now. People without homes were sent to large transport ships, while the rest hang out in places like this that are being rebuilt.
This place is in the semi basement of an apartment building. It’s not fancy at all, and it’s illuminated by bare light bulbs. The place itself is long and thin, with exposed concrete walls. There are wooden bar chairs at the wooden counter, without backrests, and there’s no decoration. At least decorate the wall the counter is facing with bottles.
Dwight said this place was interesting, but all they have for snacks is unsold stuff from the department store.
“Well, I’m kind of used to this. They just do whatever they want.”
“Even if you’re a mercenary, are you saying you’re used to this sort of thing?”
“When master was a Grassland three mercenary, he stopped pirates from taking over a station.”
“I just happened to accept work that took me there. I was surprised when they turned me into this super cool mercenary that got information about the pirates and rushed there.”
That must have hit Dwight’s funny bone, because he starts laughing and choking.
“Hey hey, are you okay?”
“You did this!”
“You just started choking on your own!”
Leaving that aside, I order salted urchin and I’m surprised when I get something the size of an omelet. I cut it into small pieces with chopsticks, and dip it in soy sauce.
It’s incredibly tasty. I figured it’d taste flat, but it’s way different from the urchin I had on Earth.
It doesn’t taste bitter or have a chemical smell.
It’s sweet, and it both tastes close to pork and seafood. I’m pretty sure these urchin live in space.
And I wash the seafood flavor with synthetic diluted alcohol. It’s so good that I ask for more, and a bipedal robot pours more synthetic alcohol into the small transparent glass hidden in the palm of my hand.
“But is taking out the giant space octopuses okay? Weren’t they raising the big urchin? Won’t it be bad if they can’t hunt them anymore?”
“Don’t be stupid, urchin are a by-product. The main production here is food cartridges. They take rock salt from asteroids and ice and keep pumping them out.”
“Ah, so there’s food cartridge production…”
“It’s this colony’s job to mass produce it and send it all over. Apparently they’ve been making money for a century with urchin, so that’s not bad, but…”
“It becomes a part of culture after a hundred years.”
I feel like most big corporations back on Earth weren’t a hundred years old, so it would make sense to want to keep it going.
“The mechanical intelligence managing the colony will see if it’s possible to raise urchin. Their spines make for good materials, so there have been some contacts about raising them in the outer rim of the star system.”
“Brefilmora said no, so don’t do it!!”
“Yes yes, cheers.”
We drink cheap alcohol and snack as we talk, which is nice once in a while.
If I did this in Tortilla Double I’d get attacked and devoured by the end…
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