Children of Terra

~15 December 1987~ ~On the launch pad~ ~Engines ready~ ~Captain Nakamoto, certified Arasaka Astronaut~ The launch was televised to the entire world. Well, as much as can be given the rads, viruses, and chaos. Still, a moment for the history books. The day Arasaka captures for itself the title of dominant corporation in the world. The day Luna is claimed as a territory of humanity. The day humanity proves itself more than the earthbound species it is -- not that the rocket would get that far in a day -- that said, all the preps were done. Checks, green lights, ignition, burn. Go. History itself was in the hands of Isse Nakamoto -- Nakamoto the family name.       Out there, he was a hero. People had all sorts of ideas of what the paragon was like. Right now, he was blasting rock in the cabin, much to the exasperation of the crew. Being born in America, the same America that was an irradiated shithole, he had an equally boorish grin on his face as he throttled off. The earcomms/sound dampeners struggled to resist the mighty fires below as the rocket began its thrust to split the heavens. Crew comms were lighting up. If only humanity could know what these bravest of us had said . . .       Nakamoto knew. He grinned as a voice tried to overpower the deep drums and bass guitar singing sweet in his head. "Nakamoto! For the love of! We're on the clock, shut this shit off!"       He toggled switches as the rocket passed through first stage, a shift in cabin noise as power transferred. Turning in the pilot seat, he gave a shit-eating eyebrow raise. "No." He swore that Hana's temple was about to explode in her helmet from that one. Regardless of the inner crew's turmoil, they were rapidly reaching third stage, necessitating a small ceasefire of hostilities to tend to the critically crucial instrumentation calibration.       Outside, in the world below, was probably the single most peaceful moment in 40 years. Thanks in no small part to the ruthlessness of the Arasaka Corp's enforced merc stations around all display centers in hubs of the world. Stories would go on for years that even the nomad and raider bands had an awestruck peace in observance of humanity's desperate struggle to free from the chains of the past.       The rocket was in upper atmosphere and third stage, as the videos showed. They did it! Many payment processors reported outages from the amount of celebrations taking place. If there was any one thing Arasaka knew how to do, it was setting the occasion. Discounts were handed out -- and to VIPs only -- voucher coupons. These would become collector items on their own in time. But that is for the future, and now is the moment prime.       Once the rocket was in orbital cruise, Hana allowed herself a calming lean back. Using oxygen in this manner was expensive. Because of course Arasaka made them pay for each cubic centimeter. She looked over to the source of her stress. "I don't understand why Saburo-sama himself signed off on you."       Giving a too-boisterous laugh, Nakamoto indulged her. "Hana, I represent the marketing face of Arasaka. People laugh and become jovial when I perform. This drives sales. It's all stones and birds. People look at you and feel the stick of corporate's finger up their ass."       Hana made a point to blow into comms before cutting off.       Nakamoto was a party nut, sure. But there was a time and place. He loosened the straps of his harness before allowing himself a moment to think. Unfortunately, Arasaka outsourced a lot of the expenses to other entities -- European Space Agency twats. Even governments, like the Pan-African Alliance. The expected timetables to get a launch-viable mass driver was still a-ways away, and Saburo-sama did not do things on other people's timetables. While that meant giving up exclusive rights to the claimant territories of the moon, that did not mean the most powerful man in the world let things idly by. Corporate warfare was a game of patience and maneuvering. Nakamoto was assigned to give up the first move -- price being unpleasant banner ads on all the vid-feeds -- but the Captain would make up for it with his antics. Arasaka would become inextricable from this event, no matter how much other interests wanted otherwise.       That was his job. A showman for the ages. Nakamoto could already see the statues of himself planted around science centers all around the world. He glanced down at the course projections. It was giddy-ing. All of it. What a radical shift in human direction! He flipped some cruising toggles for efficiency, before letting the delegated crew do, well, their jobs.       It was a bit of distance to the moon, after all. ~Simultaneously~ ~Arms bent over screw-bean mesquite furniture~ ~Watching the live-videos~ ~Lucifer, Lord of Pride, Shadowmaster of Militech, puller of the strings, eldest of all Hell, and once the morning star of the evening~ Saburo was a fascination. A total outmaneuver of Lucifer's deigns. Thwarts at every turn, assassination attempts, subterfuge, libel, outright slander. The Low Lord felt a bit of pride in that. It was beyond rare to see a mortal of such respect anymore. A good surprise when all you are surrounded by are tweedle-fucks and tweedle-ups. Lucifer ran through his calming cycle. It was so not worth thinking of such things. He has spent far too long on failures, that it makes him disgusted to even think he shares the same world as the filth. The only ones worth it at all were the other Arches, and the youngest Pseudomonarchs.       The rest are fodder for the eldest. Lucifer's interest in Pruflas is mostly academic. Vassago was to be trusted in the accuracy of his visions, and he insists that Pruflas is the greatest threat Inferno faces. This will only get worse in time, but the Duke was still visible. Lucifer looked forward to the event that occludes such a one.       Simply increasing the stakes of the game of life. Morningstar shifted his attention back to the video monitors, and the spectacle the rabble were engaging in now.       The concept of humanity spreading to the stars was a novel idea. Probably the greatest shake up to the thousands-years monotony he could ever come up with. It almost made his heart beat just a hair faster. What would it be like to rule the system? Or even the galaxy? He laughed in his chair, hunched over. Attendants showed no sign of reaction. Seems to be a regular behavior then.       Still curled, he called to his attendant. A small framed boy named Oscar. "Send a missive to the scientists in bays 1 through 3, the personnel in Extraditions, Counter-Espionage, and Applied Practicals: they are to choose a family member to die."       The boy paled just a bit, having been trained well by the Lord. "A-all of them?"       Lucifer raised his trademark basso one hair lower and with menace. "I do not stutter. My vocal cords are perfectly fine. Do not question me again. Oscar."       "And what will we blame the deaths on? Sir?"       "Pick one of the smaller corporations from list Alpha. Prep for a hostile takeover. And Oscar? Choose well enough and I'll give you a reward."       The attendant left, fully knowing it was his part to start yet another flare up. Lucifer smiled, knowing aggression was best directed in a direction at least 3 avenues removed from the true goal. Undercut me, Saburo? I'll undercut something of yours.       He raised his sable-haired head, to watch the monitor and let the sting of disrespect prick his heart. ~Just shy of three days later~ ~Aboard Ichi~ ~History books would show 18 December 1987, no matter what Isse says otherwise~ ~Captain Nakamoto, preparing landing module~ Suits were in the middle of inspection as the Captain used a ground scanner for a landing site. As close to the rim of Tycho Crater as possible, so the cameras would be able to get footage. He used the tactile analogue sticks to pan the display around. It made for a distinct click as the machinery obeyed.       Hana saw through the game. "Stop fucking around, Naka'. Suits're ready." She leaned over his shoulder as he pretended not to hear. Placing a finger on the screen, she confirmed the lock sequence. "There. Stable ground."       Isse laughed as he floated to the prep bay, beginning to zip up. "Hana. This is a world event. Remember that. This is to the cameras just as much as to Saburo-sama, otherwise he wouldn't have picked me."       The co-pilot huffed as she suited up. Once ready, the pair entered the landing module while the shuttle crew maintained operations. A stomach-pitch as the module unlocked from the cruising craft. Isse audibly took a breath as the bay screen showed the extraterrestrial mass rounding below. It was the silence of space that only their heartbeats filled. History. The module descended with a silent jerk, Isse looking over to Hana. Getting the sat-relay tablet ready, she framed it in view, before giving a thumbs up.       The captain made sure to smile as he looked into the camera, one hand waving while the other levered the hatch lock down. He leapt from the module, opting to let Hana deal with it. Landing and striking a domineering pose, he pointed to the Earth in frame behind, knowing this was going to be monumental. And just one moment. Behind the camera, he could see just how red Hana's face was. The smile he gave was just as much to her as to the entire world. Now that she was in position, he purposefully strode to the center rise of Tycho, posing as the collapsing baton-flag of glorious Arasaka sprung to form. Slowly and deliberately, Isse planted the flag of Arasaka right in the center of Tycho, framed by Hana to eclipse the world behind it.       It was time for the actor to shine, as the stage was utter desolate silence. He had to imagine just how wild people around the world were currently going, and knew the game to be. A double-handed play of pride and humiliation. No one would really know just how many would die as a consequence of this.       Because that was not the point. Saburo made sure of it. ~A time later~ ~Pictures of just that moment in print~ ~As a class was in a lecture~ ~Somewhere in a mega-city~ Many of the students could give less of a fuck. History was history for a reason. Tachibana looked down at the picture of the smiling captain one last time, standing so tall with the Earth itself behind him. What was a man like him thinking? Being a part of history! Realizing the snickers of boys in the room directed at her, she closed the book with a blush. That was almost 50 years ago now. Outposts had spread throughout in a blooming time, albeit even greater plans behind. The Crystal Palace, Tycho, Copernicus, even Mars and just the hints of beyond.       Just baby steps. Baby steps. It wouldn't be too long when even this is a memory, however.       And how long after that will it all be forgotten?