The morning sun broke upon our ship as it neared land. Squinting against the rays of the sun, I sat up out of bed, and gazed out of the small porthole that served as my cabin's window. The ocean was all around the boat, splashing up against its sides, beating upon the shore just a short distance away. We had finally made it.
My name is Nat Somers—a simple, down-home name. Born and raised in the land of 3S, having lived there for twenty years, I was far from the iron grip of the conglomerate mining company that ruled our land. 3S, standing for Strength, Service, Sacrifice (the miner's code) ruled much of its land with an iron grip, subjecting them to harsh taxes, heavy labor drafts and the omnipresence of the dreaded 3S Security Force, a police group that inflicted harsh penalties upon those guilty (or not guilty) of crimes and often conducted random searches, arrests and even public executions. Live wasn't easy in the countryside; we were often subjected to attacks by cave spiders, who crept from their old mineshafts at night to hunt. But we were mostly free from the "Sec", as my father called it; their presence was minimal. Life was almost perfect.
Until the resettlement program began. Diamond City, the capital of the land of 3S and home to the towering headquarters block, was crowded with immigrants and laborers. In an attempt to free up space (and possible allowing the company to take care of political enemies), thousands were shipped off to our lands. And we were to be shipped off to the Far Lands, across the Great Western Ocean. We were going where no man had gone before.
As the ship weighed anchor and slowed to a halt, I rose from my bed, throwing some old, ragged work clothes on, and started out the door. The Sec allowed me only two bags of belongings; the mining equipment and food they would provide, those being part of the labor draft. Despite being forced to work and leave the land you had forever, it wasn't all bad; Sec presence would be minimal, and I had previous mining experience at Trojan Pass. It was an experience I'd prefer not to recount. But the food would be free, grown on our own farms, and we'd have some degree of freedom, able to start anew here in the Far Lands.
The hallway was bustling with other settlers, all different varieties; those equipped with their mining gear already, some in their work clothes, women and children, teenagers and toddlers, all carrying just two bags each, trying to work their way through the crowd. I was single; it was easier trying to keep track of yourself rather than an entire family. I was able to worm through the crowd, provide my "Resettlement Project" ID to the two SMG-armed Sec officers at the gangplank, and proceed down to the sandy beach below. My new life had arrived; little did I know that events would soon take a turn for the worst. And then it only went downhill from there.
