Your Biggest Fan
The Intergalactic Summit. Meeting place of the demigods, they call it. A place where the cluster's most powerful and least controlled can make statements both humble and grandiose. It is a rare glimpse into the minds of those who're unbound. Yet the hundreds of thousands of capsuleers who frequent that place are not the only ones watching. Across entire worlds and nations are the contents of this forum syndicated for public viewing.
Juni DuGaulle is a fourteen year old girl living in the city of Gerardeiu, Ansone III. She's never been off her homeworld. She's never even been to the local spaceport. She's a normal schoolgirl with a boyfriend, homework, parents who irritate her, and the typical drama endemic to all teenagers. She's also a GalNet addict.
Spending most of her free time at home, she turns on her computer and stays awake until the wee hours of the morning reading pirated downloads of the IGS. Fascinated by capsuleers and how similar their arguments appear to those she has at school, it's something of a validation for her. It validates her feelings that... just because you're grown up or successful doesn't mean you don't have to stop acting like a child. Her parents tell her every day to study hard and stop busying herself with boyfriends and video games... but she knows better. Those forums she comes home to read only prove to her that it's okay to be who she is.
To this Gallentean girl, the IGS means personal liberty.
Amran Jarad is a Khanid born Paladin in the Imperial military. He's nothing special to note... just a man who stands guard at a local chapel five days a week. The only Paladin assigned this duty, he doesn't have anybody to really talk to. Not that he'd want to talk to anybody anyways... most people bore him with their mundane stories of how their day went, or what their wife did, or whatever. But something does interest him deeply: The Scriptures.
While it's stereotypical to think of a citizen of the Empire who's obsessed with the Scriptures, Amran is a little different. He never really cared about the Scriptures as a child. Sure, he went to church and he did his duty to God as his parents saw fit. He even signed on to the military because of this sense of duty to God... but he never really believed in it.
Every day he stands there outside the chapel doors. Sometimes in the rain, sometimes in the snow, sometimes in the blistering summer heat. He stands there, and he listens to the priest inside give his sermons. He stands there and he thinks about these sermons, and how little they make sense... how much they contradict. He figures he
gets it more than anyone else... he figures he understands the conspiracy behind it all
So when he gets home, he turns on his computer and logs into his subscription IGS access account. It's not the demagogic posts of PIE or CVA that draws his attention. It's not the local favorite - Father Vaari, as he is known - that takes his interest. No, it's the strong debates on religion fought between believers and heretic. It's people like a strange man called "Stitcher" that really make him listen. He figures he's got a connection with this Caldari... the two would be great friends, he likes to think. They both understand the hypocrisy of The Scriptures.
To this Khanid soldier, the IGS means truth.
Oiito Raatorisakku is an assembly line worker. He works seventy hours for every seven days of his life in the factory. Doing his duty for the State, he makes sure that every day he manages to drag his feet back home, he has given every ounce of effort left in him for the State. He doesn't boast about how much he supports the State. He doesn't beat his chest or argue with bystanders. He doesn't even feel particularly proud of himself or like he's anything important. He recognizes he is a cog in a greater machine, and good cogs don't make noise. He doesn't live like this because he wants to...
he lives like this because that's what everyone else does. Well... almost everyone else at least.
Oiito spends half his monthly pay on one bill alone. Subscription access to the IGS. Provided by his corporation NOH, he is one of the lucky few in the State allowed uncensored access to this venue of information. This freedom of information comes at a price though. Because of this subscription, he's been passed over for promotion five times in the last ten years. His employers feel he is too great a risk, because he knows too much. He's seen too much. He tried cancelling his subscription once he realized it was the cause... but it's too late. Oiito hates the IGS... but not because it isn't worth the money. Not because he's been passed over for promotion. No, he hates it for a different reason.
Every night, this balding Civire line worker reads the same thing. He sees the same thing. Caldari who've forgotten what they are. He sees ego and hubris, pride beyond what's earned. He sees capsuleers who talk too much with fickle loyalties to their corporations. He finds disgust in the IGS, disgust at those sent out among the stars who speak on his behalf. How dare they speak on his behalf! Oiito knows a good worker stays quiet. These ones do not.
To this Caldari worker, the IGS means hypocrisy.
Skonotta Eijofur has never heard of the IGS. She lives in the slums of a Matari village. She wasn't a slave, no. She was a farmer many years ago. She worked the land and felt the dirt under her fingernails each day under the hot sun. It wasn't a particularly good job, but it made her feel worthwhile. That was until the freed slaves began to arrive. Men and women willing to work the same land for much less. She lost her job.
She's never heard of the IGS, because it's not even available on her planet. She's never heard of Elsebeth Rhiannon, or Ava Starfire, or Ushra'Khan. She's never heard of the terrible and wonderful things done ostensibly on her behalf. She doesn't have a reason to hate those she feels don't do enough to help people like herself, and she has no reason to praise those who actually do fight for people like herself. She has absolutely no idea the IGS even exists... because in her life, it does not.
To this Minmatar woman, the IGS means nothing.
Across the entire cluster, the IGS has become a symbol for some people, and a blight on others. It's a dangerous tool of uncontrolled opinion, and a monument of hope for those with subversive ideas stuck deep down in their heads. Every day, capsuleers with both nationalist and selfish motivations post on this forum. Every day, they reach out to each other and the cluster at large with these visions of past, present, and future.
Little do these demigods know what the rest of the cluster
really thinks of them.
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Topic: Your Biggest Fan (Read 7843 times)