Last Dispatch: Part 4

This story was made using the solo RPG Last Dispatch, by Symbolic City.

Yoli sat, staring at the four people sitting around the large conference table. The air was tense, even as the four settled, shuffling papers and positioning glasses of water. When Yoli had first entered the room, they thought the room felt big, compared to the familiar cozy to cramped design of the rest of the Megastation. Now, the whole space seemed tight, filled almost to bursting with people.

Yoli licked their lips as they looked back at their hand-comp for a seventh time. Their notes hadn’t changed. The facts were clear and unassailable; Tethys was being torn apart by infighting. The fact that the talks were even colloquially called “peace-talks” said it all. While no violence had occurred, the different factions in Tethys were bearing their teeth and flexing their muscles in ostentatious displays that could only lead to one place.

These talks were supposed to end all that, and Yoli was here to record it all.

They had been a bit surprised that they had been approached; they weren’t exactly beloved by any of the officials. Perhaps that was why?

“I suppose it’s my duty to begin the talks,” the Chief of Research Morliss spoke at last, folding her hands in front of her. “I first would like to extend my personal gratitude to General Provik of Homestation Defense, Lifeboat Corp Chief Henne, and CEO Kennly as elected representative of the Gleaners for agreeing to be here today. It is not only my hope, but the hope of the entire station that these peace talks will be productive, and your willingness to be here is an excellent first step.”

Yoli’s fingers were already working at their hand-comp, typing notes about the attendees’ postures and reactions. They noted everything, from errant twitches of the hand to on which words they leaned forward or back.

In fact, one of the things they made the fewest notes on was what was being said. It was second nature for Yoli to ignore the theatrical platitudes that came so naturally to politicians during official functions. It was rarely anything noteworthy.

It wasn’t until almost a half-hour had passed that the meeting turned from perfunctory claims of unity and agreement that the meat of the issue came to the forefront.

CEO Kennly leaned forward slightly towards the small microphone in front of him. “I don’t think anyone will disagree that the…current state of Tethys Megastation is unacceptable. Ever since the unfortunate death of General Layne, things have simply gotten out of hand. For myself and my compatriots,” Kennly nodded to the seated officials behind him, “we want a return to normalcy on Tethys, where we can once more work and live in peace and prosperity for all. We of course believe that this cannot happen while the Homestation Defense’s annexation of the Lifeboat Corp continues to be accepted.”

“I object to the term ‘annexation,’” General Provik leaned forward as well. “I think it’s important to remind the Gleaners that Homestation Defense took over life-support and resource distribution on Tethys because of the escalating threats and violence. Securing Tethy’s life-support was necessary to ensure the station’s safety and survival.”

“The Lifeboat Corp,” Chief Henne spoke clearly and firmly, “has faithfully and impartially maintained the health and well-being of this station and everyone on it for years. Every one of us swears an oath to that effect. No matter what anyone says or does, we will fight to our dying breath to ensure everyone can live and breathe freely on Tethys.”

“I think we should be careful about phrases like ‘dying breath,’” Morliss cautioned, raising her hands in a calming gesture. “We all agree that violence is an unacceptable outcome, and I don’t think anyone here is stupid enough to threaten it.”

“Then I think an apology is warranted,” Kennly folded his arms as he stared at Henne, “for your aggressive and provoking words during your acceptance speech.”

“They were not —” Henne paused, taking a breath before continuing in a calmer tone of voice. “My words may have been poorly chosen, but my intent was merely to reassure that I was aware of the vital role the Lifeboat Corp plays in the survival of Tethys Megastation. I in no way wanted to convey any sort of threat to anyone.”

“If anyone is a threat,” General Provik sniffed, “I would say it’s the Gleaners. They’re the ones who can decide to simply cease harvesting operations and starve us out.”

“And you have the guns,” Kennly snapped. “We weren’t the ones who pulled security from planetside due to ‘cutbacks.’”

“You weren’t the ones having to make do with half the resources you usually have,” Provik shot back.

“Alright, take a breath,” Morliss interrupted. “We’re going to get nowhere if we keep looking for threats. What we need is an acceptable compromise and distribution of resources, so everyone feels secure in their food, air, and safety.”

“May I ask a question?”

The council turned their eyes to Yoli. They cleared their throat. “A source of mine confirms that a new private report suggests that the Red-wheat is far more complex than we first assumed. This research has far reaching implications, considering –”

“Who told you that?” Researcher Morliss snapped, nearly jumping out of her seat.

“Excuse me,” Yoli continued, “It is suggested multiple times in the report that the increase in dangerous alien life over the past few years is a kind of natural defense against our exploitation. I have also been told a sizable number of Tethys citizens are beginning to reconsider the ethical implications of our harvesting Red-wheat at all. Are these facts that you will factor into your compromise?”

The council shared a glance. Yoli had seen this look on the faces of officials a thousand times before; it was a look carefully crafted to reveal nothing, a way to either hide embarrassment or keep the opposition guessing about your plans.

It was all Yoli needed to see to know for certain; these peace talks were going to fail.