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Extasis, Part Two

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Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list February 9, 2001

Title: Extasis 2/?
Author: Scynneh
Disclaimer: (snicker) ya think that they'd show THIS on network television?
Dedications: Melissa- you give kick-ass feedback, and to the other writers who are busy with RN, go, get them sweaty!
Feedback: Please, I need to know that someone is interested in this challenge response.
Rating: R- not anything sexy-yet, but language is expected to go down in politeness at any point nowS. Pairing: Rath/Maria/Tess. In the future- I promise. I just have to set the stage properly.
Spoilers: Au, but you need to know who Rath is, and the disposition of Lonnie in 'The Dupes,' 'Max in the City.'
Author's Note: Melissa gives good challenges, what can I say?

Part II


As the docking alarm blared directly into my ear, I sat up, slapping away the groping hands of the little slut that had attached herself to my hip. She knew better than to try and sleep with me; I refused to rest with anyone who might have a reason to separate my skin with a sharp edge, and she wasn't exactly the most amiable of servants. Looking out my window, I saw the lights of the Promenade and the port , where I was to dock the ship.

The Solace base raised the philosophical inquiry: why does one little planet grow up to rule the universe, and another little planet grow up to be a little planet? As the real-estate agents back home were fond of saying 'location, location, location.' Put simply, the base was off the main special highways, and the patrons preferred it that way. Ships moved in and out of asteroid clusters unobtrusively, their wares exchanging hands and claws; some of the merchandise lamenting its lot in life as it was traded. Any great nation could keep people in warehouses. The trick was keeping such commodities quiet, 'cause eventually, someone will get the notion to organize the groups into annoyingly strong resistive units. On the base, the method for control was a vocal inhibitor and some chained discipline as a garnish.

Not that any kind of authority was around to enforce anything. Ever since the Great Wars, things had gone downhill with increasing speed. Governments fall apart, and when that happens, the aristocracy start misbehaving and generally have a great time. The most influential Churches committed suicide with their corruption, so there was no moral authority. And the economy had to follow suit. No wonder some fanatics proclaimed that it was the end of the universe.

Sure, the 'lower classes' get derided but it's all a matter of perspective. 'Peasant' is a perfectly respectable title for an agricultural specialist, though I've seen a number of pamphlets tacked on barroom walls listing the evils of 'rutting pheasants in the fields'.

But the aristocracy is just too hilarious to watch. They're kind of like the military: they look up at the deck and say 'there are so few of them and so many of us. Couldn't we just flick them over the side?' Still, it appears that most people would rather be a soldier than a peasant in a field. Or a slave, which is more common.

Me, I took a look at the right road, leading to good fortune and a long stable life in suits and ruffles, thought about it for all of two seconds and did an about face to the other path. It's much more entertaining to be a highwayman in 'Sherwood Forest' during these depressed times, and pirates and others of their ilk are quite the norm. Loot, pillage, plunder, and rapine, good times. It's been very popular with the disillusioned set.

Of course, there isn't a lot of east money anymore, but there's a saying that I use whenever pickings are scarce and the future looks distinctly un-illuminated: 'It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter Heaven.' So, those with wealth should see to its use in the here and now. I'm definitely behind such a mentality, and vote that one follow the Greeks' way of doing things.

The reason that the Greeks were so honored is that they were allowed to rage. They went places no one else had. Sorta like three-year-olds putting one up against the wall with their incessant 'whys?' But while they drove everyone to distraction with their instinct to inquire, not a single soul told them to shut up. No, I have no plans to start carving blocks of marble, I'm more intrigued by the concept of discovering the extents to which my desires can take me. Hey, if one is oppressed, they may not even know it, and there has to be someone to tell them that there is more beyond the gate of 'rightness.'

Time, leisure and the ability to free range leads to uncomfortable questions. That's why I limit my deep thinking to where I'm going to be getting satisfaction next. I can weigh the existential junk later- once I'm off of everyone's radar.

End Part II

Continue to Part Three

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