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What we leave behind

Posted on Thu 17th Oct, 2024 @ 6:46pm by Renato Solis
Edited on on Sun 27th Oct, 2024 @ 1:35am

1,037 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: The Phoenix Gamble
Location: Ullia

Previously...

-Start-

{Dismebarkation}

Fanvo wouldn't leave him alone. Since the shuttle encounter they had exchanged conversation but growing unease with the man had begun to spin into a confirmation. The man was strongly opposed to the state, and trying to get Renato to speak on that topic. The monitoring of it all made him angry. He was an agent of the government, as so many were. A pollster, designed to gauge the aspirations of the ones who returned to have their Stigma removed. He ha dnever met a single member of the security bureuas it was believable they recruited this man to be an eager ambassador to the anti-state rhetoric.

Renato wondered if he had truly spoken his mind, if the kind friend who tagged along at his heels would not have reported him for others to "handle" later. Or if the naive young idiot was serving their cause unwittingly. Uliia was the quietest theocratic autocracy in the Federation, freedom was masked by the heavy consequence of Exile. People were raised to not question the wisdom of the Council and they made all the rules.

"Oh we can ride together!" Elas hailed a personal transport for passengers coming off the shuttle and the moment had arrived for Renato to speak his mind.

"It was clever of you to offer your hand and shape my impressions by talking and mental imagery. You mask your thoughts well, in our handshake I didnt detect your government orders or propagandist rhetoric so I am now trying to decide which has corrupted you."

Fanvo blinked, "What? Government orders?"

If the man was legitimately just trying to be a friend then this was a cruel moment, Renato had faith he wouldn't be persecuted for taking the chance.

"Then you're a useful idiot, doing the work of your masters for a pittance. You were told to seek me out were you not?"

Fanvo looked hurt, and Renato doubted himself so much in this moment he wanted to apologize. Hard nosed living had given him the emotional wherewithal to push through.

He looked to Renato a man maybe fifteen years older like a lost child. He whimpered, "Well I recognized you yeah. You're the one who attacked the police. I wanted..."

"You wanted a story to tell people? How you brushed elbows and shook hands with the Weaver. Get the hell away from me."

Fanvo looked embarassed, called out even, "No! I just... we both got the same deal going on and I felt a kinship-"

Renato had enough, "Be gone. I have been abandoned by my family and friends and the whole world around me. I am not here to be your story, or an anecdote at parties. My Life here is a disaster and each moment I am here brings fresh horror. Say nothing, and leave me alone."

Fanvo was silent as he was bade, and entered the waiting transport. Renato turned on his heel to leave never looking back. The walk was several kilometers, abut he had been cooped up on the damned shuttle for so long he welcomed it. His thoughts danced around but never settled on why there was nobody here to meet him. Until it was lifted, he was still a Stigma.

In disgusted rage he shivered under the cold winds. The path, largely unused outside of the transport center was still well maintained, and soon all there was to hear were his own racing thoughts, and heavy boot strikes.

{Judges Quarters- Ullia Prime Judiciary}

The central hall of Justice had nearly doffed the flames lining its auspicious vaulted stone entryway. Renato's entrance, wet, disheveled and clearly motivated had caught the last few staff closing out the day by surprise. However, the flames were lit, and tradition compelled anyone with a summons to be seen on the day they arrive. The Judge had not expected anyone so close to the evening hours, and opted to see Renato in his private chambers.

Renato faced the choice, which wasn’t a choice at all of restoring his life and name, in the exchange he would sell a lie to his people furthering the stigma of telepathic ability. He was to say his use of their innate ability as "The Weaver" was due to a mental collapse after prolonged usage. The judge had called him, prior to the hearing to discuss thi most beneficial way to proceed for everyone. When Renato had used his ability time and again it was in desperation, anger, self defense. Two decades ago this defense didnt cover the breadth of his crimes, but now the laws had changed. Social taboo carried only the weight of scrutiny in the public eye. He could come back, beg for the clemency of his peers and be renewed in the eyes of the law.

But he had to keep their lie going. He had to tell Ullian children the same as he had been told that their innate ability was a dirty, dangerous perverted thing.

The ruling party of Ullia used the boogeymen of a past global conflict, and an ancient age of empire that marked the users of Telepathic abilities as depraved monsters. Pogroms of eradication, genetic alterations, Neural stripping were all invoked as policies to prevent another cultural collapse. Whether this was true or the evils were truthfully for everyone's good was a constant debate. To be convicted of using your ability to harm another was a Stigma that meant you were an exile and shunned from contact by any other Ullian. He had only escaped this by using that same ability to escape holding. Two officers had lost their minds temporarily, and Renato had to club a third from behind. The Federation granted asylum, as it did not hold similar views on his usage of these abilities.

It had been a stalemate for nearly thirty years. Today, he answered their call to come home. He knew his family had to follow the company line and shun him up until the papers were signed. With nary a look to the left or right he entered the main vestibule to take the stairs into the judges private chambers.

-TBC

 

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Comments (1)

By Commander Paul Graves PsyD on Sun 27th Oct, 2024 @ 1:44am

I like this look into Ullian culture.