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"SnapShot" An 8000 Suns Fiction Contest Entry..
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Braxthimosis
Gladiators of Rage
Fraternity.
#1 - 2012-11-26 16:30:50 UTC  |  Edited by: Braxthimosis
This story begins with a little viewed program on a poorly advertised GalNet subnet designation and channel obscure to most Gallente citizens. It is watched mainly by Caldari citizens abroad in the Federation.

Subnet.noh query audio\video feed subchannel nohts 00:00 25\10\113

The data streams and a picture clarifies. A black screen surmounted by an embellished T and S and a disembodied, monotone voice begins in Common Gallente;

“Transcendent State and it's host, Ms. Kaakuri are a venue and correspondent from our sister stations at NOH Productions. Her beliefs and opinions do not necessarily reflect the beliefs and opinions of the GalNet News Network. In an effort to bring you the most relevant news media from across the cluster, her broadcast is being shown live, without prior perusal of content or editing in any form.”

The screen clarifies into a sanitary gray anchor desk behind which sits an attractive Deteis woman of indeterminate age. She smiles in the direction of the camera drone and begins speaking in Lower Caldanese, translator systems instantaneously making her oratory understandable in a thousand languages.

“Good day everyone, I am Natiya Kaakuri. Welcome to Transcendent State, showing you the cultural and religious savvy you need to survive in the tightening marketplace.”

“If you recall, last week I ran the Sani Sabik Prophecy: Dance of Destruction piece with Malki Dorodoviel, a Tash Murkon living in the Federation, and a self professed Sani Sabik philosopher. He was tragically murdered just two days after this special was aired. Murdered by a Gallente extremist named Iswyle LeHerve. Federation representatives have characterized the murder as an isolated and regrettable incident. They refuse to comment on rumors of Federal military service by Mr. LeHerve.”

“But, a ranking member of the FIO is quoted as having said the following about Mr. LeHerve, and again, I quote,”

“The man was a murderous thug with some crazy beliefs, who killed another gentleman with some crazy beliefs. Any official relationship Mr. LaHerve had with the Federation ended long ago. But, he was known to harbor racist sentiments. It is very hard to deal with these incidents in a comprehensive manner, when locals and every Federation capsuleer that holds a grudge against the administration stymy and hogtie the process with their cries of corruption and racism. And now, he and his family have managed to disappear into the proverbial woodwork.”

“Here is a clip from my special. It is an enlightening piece that you shouldn't miss.”

The background fades to black and cuts to a prerecorded segment.

“I am here today with Sani Sabik philosopher Malki Dorodoviel. Do you mind if I call you Malki, Mr. Dorodoviel?”

“Not at all, Ms. Kaakuri, might I return the informality and call you Natiya, dear? Such a lovely name, it means auspicious in birth, yes?”

“Yes, yes it does, touche, Malki. You prove yourself an astute, learned man.”

Miss Kaakuri chides him quickly, smiles and continues.

“Malki, Sani Sabik have been accused in the past of performing heinous deeds upon unwilling persons to secure the blood for your rituals. And that your beliefs trivialize human life and suffering.”

“Part of this is a common misconception about what it means to be Sani Sabik. There is an old Sabik saying; when we see the sheep, it is time to feed, for we are the wolves that thin the flocks..This is metaphorical, you understand, these are intellectual sheep. But, it has echoed in the minds of many business men, and women, of course, after dealing with a devout Sabik practitioner that humiliated them at a trading station.”

“To be Sani Sabik is to be a proactive motivational force in whatever personal directive guides us to advance the boundaries of human knowledge and understanding, wisdom, in fact. Our faith is dedicated to benefiting mankind, not destroying it completely. We are not Equilibrium, we are a true religion, not a cult of murderous thugs. And, yes, the Faith is tied to developing superiority. But, only in ourselves. We believe all should have the freedom to be what they are.”

“One of those stated directives is said to be for the bettering of the genetic stock of humanity through suffering. This is a very egotistical seeming statement, on the surface, yet, who can dispute the fact? The proxy wars of the last few centuries have expanded the bounds of human understanding and adaptability immeasurably.”

Mr. Dorodoviel pauses and Ms. Kaakuri interjects a devil's advocate agreement nod at the camera. He continues.

“Exactly, Sani Sabik are hardly alone in recognizing theses benefits of change and striving for happiness. Our scientists have donated generous amounts of positive data in the fields of blood born pathogens, virology and blood synthetics, not to mention theoretical ideas posed to the greater scientific community. A minor eccentricity of ritual is not an indictment of guilt to the whole. The Empires need to realize that Sani Sabik has, from ancient times, served the religious and societal requirements of a deeply spiritual people in New Eden.”

“Blood, and it's Divine Essence, to us, is the impetus that drives forward humanity from a primitive genus of homonidus to the dominant lifeform in our discovered universe. This has always been so. The very life of humanity flows through the blood of it's peoples.”

“We believe we humans are the aspiring image of Higher Reasoning, of God Himself. And so, too, human Blood is precious to us. But, Suffering and Suffrage is a devotion common to any government, religion or institute of higher thinking. That some sacrifice must, for the good of the whole, occur. You, young lady, as as a reporter for GalNet know that atrocities happen every day, all over the cluster. Isn't this true? How many of those committed by Sani Sabik, including the Blood Raiders? Insignificant.”
Braxthimosis
Gladiators of Rage
Fraternity.
#2 - 2012-11-26 16:32:02 UTC  |  Edited by: Braxthimosis
“Yes, Mr Dororoviel, but...” Ms Kaakuri attempts to recover the direction of the conversation and fails.

“But, nothing, my dear. I will not entertain the thoughts that all Sani Sabik are Blood Raider fiends waiting to pounce on your children when you turn your backs. Some sects use of blood is minimal and fresh blood is the most epithetic form. We acquire blood from markets within our flock, using discrete means that in no ways harms the individual we procure it from. We are not monsters, Ms. Kaakuri.”

“Sani Sabik philosophies are staunch advocates of evolution. This threatens many administrations in the core worlds, based, as they are, on static worldviews that ooze with comfort and decadence. And so they lump Sani Sabik along with other fringe and misunderstood entities into a catch all designation, Terrorist, and so discard any ineffable rights, such as life, equality or liberty.”

“The Empires are setting a dangerous precedent when they allow religious intolerance to color the policies of their government toward free expression. When they allow ignorance to thrive in the herd, the wolves will feast. In this case, any wolf with a hunger. We Sani Sabik are the least of their worries.”

“It is a cliché, tired worldview you spin, young lady. For the most part, Sani Sabik are just like you or I. Do not let irrational rhetoric cloud the facts. Even the Gallente Federation, epicenter of cultural diversity and freedom is multiplicand in trivializing the injustice being directed at the fringe. It will come back to haunt them.”

The feed cuts back to an apparently amused Miss Kaakuri at her anchor desk, she shifts to the opposite camera drone.

“Mr. Dorodoviel goes on to say that ancient prophecy and even some Amarrian scriptures back his claims of a Dance of Destruction that seems imminent. The entirety of which can be seen again one week from tonight 00:00 CST, that's one week from tonight Sani Sabik Prophecy: Dance of Destruction. Check your local listings.”

“On to the Lonetrek financial market. Today, Caldari Steel posted quarterly gains again for this fiscal year........”

The story pauses. It breaths out, like a desperate soul striving for relevance. It continues sometime later.

In a darkened room, somewhere on another side of the cluster, three men shiver, one in cold and apprehension and two in macabre anticipation. One is naked and strapped to a chair, while another wears the livery of a priest for the Blood Raider cult. A third stands by in the shadows. The most vulnerable chooses bravado in his native tongue.

“Get on with it, you thuggish ghouls. You know I have nothing to say. I have served the Federation's ideals all my life. I won't abandon them for the likes of you”, he screams. “Your brand of pain isn't any different than a thousand others.”

“Isn't it?” The Blood Priest speaks in fluent Gallente.

“Yes, Mr. LeHerve, your record is exemplary, your determination commendable. We have no doubts of your abilities. We admire such traits. Admire them, such, in fact that we have decided to drain the Seed, as the saying goes.”

“You bastards. I swear....” His curse turns to an angry struggle for freedom. The Blood Priest continues.

“You see, blood has a value concurrent with ISK, perhaps even Aurum in some circles. But, charity has it's limits, Mr. LeHerve. You are not alone here. Your contribution, though meaningful, was not enough. The price demanded was much higher. Your young daughter especially will reap the sins of the father. Your line will sustain and nourish my Order for some time to come. And, of course, the standard tribute will be passed up the chain. Your clone will not function and all your meticulous preparation in vain.”

“You twisted, vicious fff... No!” Bravado turns to horror and fear.

The third member of the trio steps out of the shadows, Gurista, the insignia of the rodent adorns his black and red uniform, it's ears thrown back in aggression, like the horns of some long dead demon of chaos sent to plague mankind.

“Yes, I'm sure you are enamored to Pain, but, what of Suffering?”, he asks, also in fluent Gallente.

“There are Rituals to both, Mr. LeHerve, etiquettes to be observed, answers to be gleaned. When the water of your lives are drained, their secrets stripped away, the husks will be ground into chaff to feed the plants. Your death will not be meaningless, lonely or swift, but, it will be final, I assure you.”

The lights come up in the room, revealing a nightmare of torture devices from the four corners of the cluster. One wall is composed of a thin transparasteel wall covered by curtains of red synthesilk. As Mister LeHerve takes stock of his surroundings, the curtains slide noiselessly aside. A gallery of sorts is arranged around the wall. Unclad servants, male and female, deliver refreshments to the guests, most of whom are wearing the mark of ranking Blood Raiders.

Some few, however, are simply wearing a diversity of civilian attire, all of which looks to be ridiculously expensive. Amidst his furtive struggling and looking for somewhere to hide, Iswyle LeHerve is drawn to one face among them. The face of Natiya Kaakuri. She smiles at him with cold, lifeless eyes as patriotism and stoicism crumble, along with the last shreds of his sanity and dignity.
Braxthimosis
Gladiators of Rage
Fraternity.
#3 - 2012-11-26 16:33:16 UTC
This story ends with the last trickle of blood from Mister LeHerve's lifeless corpse, along with those twenty seven immediate family members who joined him in ignominious fame.

In this end, Mister Iswyle LeHerve learns from the story many things beyond the pain and suffering. He learns the price of martyrdom is often too high, and not for the reasons undertook, when realized.

He learns that most consumers are fickle, and their desires driven by flights of fancy. Then he learns about niche markets.

He also learns that consumerism is a term that transcends baroque ideas of taboo and one should be thorough about the details of a deal before it is struck.

Commercialism makes it trendy, but, supply and demand will always be met, especially in regards it's baser incarnations. To all things a season. The gods of justice speak, merchants of infamy pay their bloody tithes. The Universe goes on.

Now he knows the wolves, jackals and rats need to eat, too. And he'll never tell a soul.