Peaceful Face
A Phantasy Star Online fanfiction
By Selene Starblade
Arc 0: An Introduction to Ragol
Prologue: Dubious Distinction
I stood amid the small crowd of forty or fifty people, though you couldn't tell it. I suppose that's one of the noticeable things about me- I'm hard to find. It's not voluntary, you know. I never hide myself, I don't go out of my way to go out of everyone else's, and I don't discourage people from looking for me, at least not on purpose. It's just. well, I'm short. Very short.
There, I said it. Go on, I know you want to say 'Well, DUH!'. Thank you.
It's fairly obvious. I mean, how many people do you see my size? If I weren't wearing Force's garb, most people would assume I was under thirteen, although my figure tends to shunt that number slightly upward. Come to think of it, there may have been an error in my gene-manipulation. Oh, that's right, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Sarah Midori, and I'm a Fomarl. I was born and raised on Pioneer 2. It took a long time for them to build the darn thing. I'm all of nineteen, but even I can remember times where you could look down the hall and see where they had it temporarily blocked off so they could build the next section.
Describe myself? Oh, that's right- all of those who will be reading this have never seen me. Silly me, that completely slipped my mind. I'm about four foot eight or nine, and I have green hair, so light that it's sort of a dusty gray-green color. I have purple eyes, and I've got a very faint tanned color to me. Pretty general, but then, I don't know much about describing myself. Oh, and I'm human. That's an important distinction. We humans can count on having a general idea of our lifespan.
I don't quite understand Newmans. Their lifespan is wildly variable, some having natural lives of only a few years. They're also naturally rather fast and strong, although that too depends a lot on the individual. They tend to have very confusing personalities, from what I can tell, and beyond that I don't know much.
Androids are a lot easier. I mean, everyone knows what they are. Robots made to act and look. well, the word 'human' is used very loosely in this case. Some of the weird shapes those things take.. Anyhow, they're androids. They last practically forever. Kireek, for instance. For all I know, that guy's as old as dirt. He told me once. nevermind. I'm getting off track, aren't I?
I was in a crowd, and I think that's where I left off. There were about forty or fifty of us. And we were all fairly excited, crowded there in front of the posting board. You see, we were the few people of our generation on Pioneer 2 who had gone to the Hunter Academy. I know what you're thinking, there were so many more than that involved in the whole incident.
You have to understand, not many people thought that Hunters were going to be needed. Few androids, fewer newmans, and only four or five humans had actually tried for the profession out of all the people on Pioneer 2. According to everything people were saying, it wasn't like there was going to be a huge call for us. There were no wars, and at the most, colonization of Ragol would involve a few minor skirmishes when someone overstepped their land boundaries. That and the androids.
What do I mean? Well, think about it a moment. Androids keep running for a LONG time. Humans and newmans die off. By the time we neared Ragol, eighty or ninety percent of the hunters on the ship were androids, because without a good reason for more hunters, the existing ones took precedence. After all, when you can get the great Hunter Kireek, who needs a rookie Humar? Better to hire someone you know is reliable.
So, getting back on track, we were all crowded around the posting board. Quietly slipping through the others, I managed to reach the board, and I craned my neck waaaay back to look up at it. Scanning down it to my entry, I checked what it said, and then grew a quiet smile.
I had passed. More than that, I had passed at rank 2. That meant that, fresh from the Academy, I was effectively a 2nd level hunter. Not many people start at rank anything but 1, and then it's usually at rank 0, and only because the Academy got tired of having them in all the classes and screwing up the averages.
I turned and snaked my way back through the crowd to head to my apartment. Tomorrow I could go to the Academy and pick up my Mag, the symbol of my becoming a true Hunter. After eleven years of technique training and practicing staff skills, I was finally ready. Moreover, we would be arriving at Ragol within the week. I had studied extra hard to pass before we arrived, and as a result was a full-fledged Force at the age of nineteen.
I kept smiling as I watched the other graduates head for the transporters to the commercial sectors. They were all heading to bars and clubs to celebrate, and I was dead certain that they would be regretting it in the morning. I myself don't drink. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against people who do, or against having a good time. I just don't like the flavor of alcohol, and on top of that, I don't really see the need to give myself a hangover.
That, and the lab would be all over me. I'm really not that happy with the arrangement. You see, we Forces are genetically engineered- that's why most forces are newmans. After all, if you're going to mess with the material, why not throw in other useful things too? Anyways, the demi-psionic abilities, aka Techniques, that we use are partially genetic. Sure, humans can use techniques too, but not as easily or as often as newmans, especially if they aren't engineered. Of course, you need base material too. Genetically speaking, my 'parents' were apparently two of the scientists who left on Pioneer. Real shock when I found out, let me tell you. Where was I, again? Ah, yes, the arrangement. You see, back in AW3078, and before then, all Forces were directly gene- manipulated semi-clones. Two things could happen if you were a Force. Either the lab would keep you inside forever, running tests on you for your entire life, or, more rarely, you would be what was considered a 'mercenary force'. I think they were sort of like the 'controls'. A mercenary force was supplied with an apartment by their lab, and other than reporting once every week to month (it varied widely), they had pretty much the same level of freedom as a normal human or newman, depending. For a living, they all worked for the Hunter's Guild, and that was how they provided for themselves aside from room. I think this was intentional- a way of seeing how a Force would develop techniques and abilities on their own, rather than with guidance. In AW3078, there was a sort of a revolt by the lab-bound Forces, supported by not only mercenary Forces, but also by androids, newmans, and the occasional, rare psionicist. The psionicists disappeared again shortly thereafter, and none have turned up since. The upshot of this was that androids and newmans were finally considered the equals of the other races, as were Forces. Sort of. To keep population under control, you see, a person must get a license. Each person can only have one child usually, but occasionally, someone can get a license for a second child- most often due to some form of genius or incredible natural ability that the government would hope turns up in their descendants. Needless to say, the second license is very difficult to get. While newmans, androids, and forces were now afforded full freedom, each had to be accounted for with a child-license, and had to do the same for their children. Furthermore, the construction of fully sentient androids was once more permitted, and newmans, androids, and Forces were permitted to procreate (or, in the case of the androids, recreate) so long as they could procure a license. The genetic labs, on the other hand, were not to be stopped. It still is fairly easy for one person in a lab to procure a child-license, and then turn it over to the lab in general- quite a few scientists never have children of their own, apparently- so long as they use some of their genes for the 'child'. The result? No more lab-bound Forces, because that would be considered a breach of sentients' rights. Mercenary Forces, however, still worked- it was considered similar to a small part-time job. On Pioneer and Pioneer 2, this takes a slightly different form. This is largely because only the truly good scientists actually wanted to come along. The rest refused to believe that the planet was going to be destroyed. Nowadays, a lab is actually a pretty nice place to grow up- it's like having a small group of parents, rather than just two. A Force still gets her own apartment for living on her own once she reaches a reasonable emotional age, though.
So, I headed over to the transporter to the residential area, so I could go back to my apartment. I had to pack up, because I would be moving out soon. Hopefully, the laboratory would be willing and able to provide me with an apartment of my own in the sectioned blocs, because I only had enough meseta to last me four, maybe five weeks, and that was stretching it already.
I activated the transporter, and landed right in the middle of Bloc 3, Krysta sector. Heading off to the aft, I made my way to the third door on the left, and climbed the stairs. It's a real kicker, you know, having stairs in the buildings when we've got things like transporters all over the place. On the other hand, it probably would have been way more expensive to install a 'porter in every living space, so there you have it. Packing my few sets of clothing, I mused.
It was funny. Everyone with similar professions was always together for schooling and training, especially with Forces, but then once you graduated, you were given a section ID, and that was where you lived. Near as anyone could tell, the IDs were random, with a few exceptions. I really hoped that I would wind up in one of the few high-class sectors, not that it was likely. It's rare to be assigned Pinkal sector if you aren't from a rich family who are not only present, but an actual family- married et al. Saddened by the thought, I finished my packing, including making sure my Cane was well-kept.
Sitting down at the terminal, I began looking for jobs, and was immediately depressed. There still wasn't much call for hunters. I hoped very sincerely that business would pick up when we got to Ragol- I could afford living expenses for a while, but not much more than a month.
It's a dubious distinction, being a hunter, even moreso a Force. On one hand, you're a symbol of problems to a lot of people, a reminder that bad things still happen, and that people are still toying with genetics. On the other hand, you solve problems rather than causing them. Back then and even now, I still wonder- is it good to be a hunter, or bad?
A Phantasy Star Online fanfiction
By Selene Starblade
Arc 0: An Introduction to Ragol
Prologue: Dubious Distinction
I stood amid the small crowd of forty or fifty people, though you couldn't tell it. I suppose that's one of the noticeable things about me- I'm hard to find. It's not voluntary, you know. I never hide myself, I don't go out of my way to go out of everyone else's, and I don't discourage people from looking for me, at least not on purpose. It's just. well, I'm short. Very short.
There, I said it. Go on, I know you want to say 'Well, DUH!'. Thank you.
It's fairly obvious. I mean, how many people do you see my size? If I weren't wearing Force's garb, most people would assume I was under thirteen, although my figure tends to shunt that number slightly upward. Come to think of it, there may have been an error in my gene-manipulation. Oh, that's right, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Sarah Midori, and I'm a Fomarl. I was born and raised on Pioneer 2. It took a long time for them to build the darn thing. I'm all of nineteen, but even I can remember times where you could look down the hall and see where they had it temporarily blocked off so they could build the next section.
Describe myself? Oh, that's right- all of those who will be reading this have never seen me. Silly me, that completely slipped my mind. I'm about four foot eight or nine, and I have green hair, so light that it's sort of a dusty gray-green color. I have purple eyes, and I've got a very faint tanned color to me. Pretty general, but then, I don't know much about describing myself. Oh, and I'm human. That's an important distinction. We humans can count on having a general idea of our lifespan.
I don't quite understand Newmans. Their lifespan is wildly variable, some having natural lives of only a few years. They're also naturally rather fast and strong, although that too depends a lot on the individual. They tend to have very confusing personalities, from what I can tell, and beyond that I don't know much.
Androids are a lot easier. I mean, everyone knows what they are. Robots made to act and look. well, the word 'human' is used very loosely in this case. Some of the weird shapes those things take.. Anyhow, they're androids. They last practically forever. Kireek, for instance. For all I know, that guy's as old as dirt. He told me once. nevermind. I'm getting off track, aren't I?
I was in a crowd, and I think that's where I left off. There were about forty or fifty of us. And we were all fairly excited, crowded there in front of the posting board. You see, we were the few people of our generation on Pioneer 2 who had gone to the Hunter Academy. I know what you're thinking, there were so many more than that involved in the whole incident.
You have to understand, not many people thought that Hunters were going to be needed. Few androids, fewer newmans, and only four or five humans had actually tried for the profession out of all the people on Pioneer 2. According to everything people were saying, it wasn't like there was going to be a huge call for us. There were no wars, and at the most, colonization of Ragol would involve a few minor skirmishes when someone overstepped their land boundaries. That and the androids.
What do I mean? Well, think about it a moment. Androids keep running for a LONG time. Humans and newmans die off. By the time we neared Ragol, eighty or ninety percent of the hunters on the ship were androids, because without a good reason for more hunters, the existing ones took precedence. After all, when you can get the great Hunter Kireek, who needs a rookie Humar? Better to hire someone you know is reliable.
So, getting back on track, we were all crowded around the posting board. Quietly slipping through the others, I managed to reach the board, and I craned my neck waaaay back to look up at it. Scanning down it to my entry, I checked what it said, and then grew a quiet smile.
I had passed. More than that, I had passed at rank 2. That meant that, fresh from the Academy, I was effectively a 2nd level hunter. Not many people start at rank anything but 1, and then it's usually at rank 0, and only because the Academy got tired of having them in all the classes and screwing up the averages.
I turned and snaked my way back through the crowd to head to my apartment. Tomorrow I could go to the Academy and pick up my Mag, the symbol of my becoming a true Hunter. After eleven years of technique training and practicing staff skills, I was finally ready. Moreover, we would be arriving at Ragol within the week. I had studied extra hard to pass before we arrived, and as a result was a full-fledged Force at the age of nineteen.
I kept smiling as I watched the other graduates head for the transporters to the commercial sectors. They were all heading to bars and clubs to celebrate, and I was dead certain that they would be regretting it in the morning. I myself don't drink. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against people who do, or against having a good time. I just don't like the flavor of alcohol, and on top of that, I don't really see the need to give myself a hangover.
That, and the lab would be all over me. I'm really not that happy with the arrangement. You see, we Forces are genetically engineered- that's why most forces are newmans. After all, if you're going to mess with the material, why not throw in other useful things too? Anyways, the demi-psionic abilities, aka Techniques, that we use are partially genetic. Sure, humans can use techniques too, but not as easily or as often as newmans, especially if they aren't engineered. Of course, you need base material too. Genetically speaking, my 'parents' were apparently two of the scientists who left on Pioneer. Real shock when I found out, let me tell you. Where was I, again? Ah, yes, the arrangement. You see, back in AW3078, and before then, all Forces were directly gene- manipulated semi-clones. Two things could happen if you were a Force. Either the lab would keep you inside forever, running tests on you for your entire life, or, more rarely, you would be what was considered a 'mercenary force'. I think they were sort of like the 'controls'. A mercenary force was supplied with an apartment by their lab, and other than reporting once every week to month (it varied widely), they had pretty much the same level of freedom as a normal human or newman, depending. For a living, they all worked for the Hunter's Guild, and that was how they provided for themselves aside from room. I think this was intentional- a way of seeing how a Force would develop techniques and abilities on their own, rather than with guidance. In AW3078, there was a sort of a revolt by the lab-bound Forces, supported by not only mercenary Forces, but also by androids, newmans, and the occasional, rare psionicist. The psionicists disappeared again shortly thereafter, and none have turned up since. The upshot of this was that androids and newmans were finally considered the equals of the other races, as were Forces. Sort of. To keep population under control, you see, a person must get a license. Each person can only have one child usually, but occasionally, someone can get a license for a second child- most often due to some form of genius or incredible natural ability that the government would hope turns up in their descendants. Needless to say, the second license is very difficult to get. While newmans, androids, and forces were now afforded full freedom, each had to be accounted for with a child-license, and had to do the same for their children. Furthermore, the construction of fully sentient androids was once more permitted, and newmans, androids, and Forces were permitted to procreate (or, in the case of the androids, recreate) so long as they could procure a license. The genetic labs, on the other hand, were not to be stopped. It still is fairly easy for one person in a lab to procure a child-license, and then turn it over to the lab in general- quite a few scientists never have children of their own, apparently- so long as they use some of their genes for the 'child'. The result? No more lab-bound Forces, because that would be considered a breach of sentients' rights. Mercenary Forces, however, still worked- it was considered similar to a small part-time job. On Pioneer and Pioneer 2, this takes a slightly different form. This is largely because only the truly good scientists actually wanted to come along. The rest refused to believe that the planet was going to be destroyed. Nowadays, a lab is actually a pretty nice place to grow up- it's like having a small group of parents, rather than just two. A Force still gets her own apartment for living on her own once she reaches a reasonable emotional age, though.
So, I headed over to the transporter to the residential area, so I could go back to my apartment. I had to pack up, because I would be moving out soon. Hopefully, the laboratory would be willing and able to provide me with an apartment of my own in the sectioned blocs, because I only had enough meseta to last me four, maybe five weeks, and that was stretching it already.
I activated the transporter, and landed right in the middle of Bloc 3, Krysta sector. Heading off to the aft, I made my way to the third door on the left, and climbed the stairs. It's a real kicker, you know, having stairs in the buildings when we've got things like transporters all over the place. On the other hand, it probably would have been way more expensive to install a 'porter in every living space, so there you have it. Packing my few sets of clothing, I mused.
It was funny. Everyone with similar professions was always together for schooling and training, especially with Forces, but then once you graduated, you were given a section ID, and that was where you lived. Near as anyone could tell, the IDs were random, with a few exceptions. I really hoped that I would wind up in one of the few high-class sectors, not that it was likely. It's rare to be assigned Pinkal sector if you aren't from a rich family who are not only present, but an actual family- married et al. Saddened by the thought, I finished my packing, including making sure my Cane was well-kept.
Sitting down at the terminal, I began looking for jobs, and was immediately depressed. There still wasn't much call for hunters. I hoped very sincerely that business would pick up when we got to Ragol- I could afford living expenses for a while, but not much more than a month.
It's a dubious distinction, being a hunter, even moreso a Force. On one hand, you're a symbol of problems to a lot of people, a reminder that bad things still happen, and that people are still toying with genetics. On the other hand, you solve problems rather than causing them. Back then and even now, I still wonder- is it good to be a hunter, or bad?