Originally, this was conceived as Star Wars fan fiction - I was contemplating the moral roles of the films (the Jedi and the Sith) and wanted to present a middle ground or grey area in between the two. I came up with Pada Jai as a fictitious faction that uses the Force with no concern over good or evil, and could possibly use evil powers for good or vice-versa. The point was, I wanted a type of Force use that was unrestricted, so a person could perform even crazier stunts and powerful moves that others in the universe couldn't even dream of.
Eventually, this idea evolved into its own bizarre universe. I took a sociology class a while back, for college credit. Part of it talked about corporate accountability, and part of that lesson regarded pollution and the environment. Somehow, it spurred me into taking the Pada Jai concept and centering it on a disgruntled company employee in some distant future. Somehow, this all evolved into what it is now: a dark, brutal tale of a man betrayed by his friend, who unleashed a parasite that attaches to the brain and grants superhuman strength and power, but at the cost of his consciousness. Freed from the confines of being a Star Wars story, I found that I could accomplish much more and be more original.
In its original draft, I split this up into three stories, about 40,000 words each (which is agonizingly short, in retrospect). I was generally copying the plot structures of popular movie trilogies at the time (Star Wars and The Matrix), so I ended each story with some kind of cliffhanger, until it all built up to an all-out battle.
I think I always knew that there was something wonky and flaky with these books, but now that I look back on them, I realize they're downright terrible. The prose is weird and the dialogue is stupid. There is action galore - in one scene I actually had a 1-vs-100 man fight and I counted all the deaths to make sure they added up - but none of these scenes are really that great, because there's no attachment to the characters during these parts. Some of my creative decisions were dumb. Worst of all, I tried so hard to make this crass and pulpy, I wound up expending tons of swearing, vulgarity, blood, gore, and sex, but with no real finesse. It comes off as trashy and puerile.
Obviously, I still see value and potential to the story - otherwise, I wouldn't bother revisiting it. Is is all intended to be a tale about the abuse of power, of vengeance, and the inner struggle between savagery and civility. I have a cast of characters that could be filled with life, and a whole universe to play with that you've probably never seen before.
To illustrate how much things have changed, I thought I'd post the past and present iterations of the opening sections of this story.
The original draft from 2005 appears below. It's a pretty weak opening that tells more than it shows, and feels way too detached to work.
Old Draft:
Chapter One: New Arrivals at the Corjo Labor Camp
Life on
planet Corjo was truly miserable. It was
a hot, humid jungle world teaming with alien life. Two blazing suns beamed heat down on the
green world, drenching the laboring prisoners in sweat. Now and then, prisoners were known to die
from the heat exhaustion.
The prisoners’ work added to the
misery; they were forced to unearth the ruins of an ancient alien
civilization. The expedition was long
and hard, and the Corjan city was immense.
The ruins sprawled out for twenty square miles, and after five decades
of nonstop labor, only half of it was fully uncovered.
Every
month, the prisoners at the Corjo labor camp would gather around the shuttle
landing pad and watch the shuttle land.
The long rectangular vessel came as scheduled to deliver supplies, and
most importantly, more prisoners.
Life on Corjo
would change dramatically, for of the twelve prisoners on board, two of them
caught the most attention. As they came
out, the watching prisoners mocked and harassed them. One of the newcomers was a young lady named
Ryla Corinthia. She was twenty-five
years old with soft turquoise eyes and sandy blonde hair. She was slender and beautiful. As she exited the idle shuttle, all of the
male prisoners gawked at her - some of them with a look of hunger. She avoided their eyes and shyly retreated
behind the other newcomers.
But someone
else’s eyes remained fixed on hers.
Another new prisoner named Gerard stared at her and flicked his tongue
obnoxiously. He was a strong, burly, crude
young man with curly black hair and wicked yellow eyes.
Guards came
off the shuttle, clad in body armor with reflective silver helmets. They herded all of the new prisoners in an
orderly line, facing the administrative building directly in front of the
shuttle pad.
The prison
camp was surprisingly sparse for such a large-scale operation. There were six flat concrete buildings
surrounding the shuttle pad, which included a barracks, an armory, an
administrative building, a warehouse, a motor pool, and a prisoner processing
building. All of these buildings were
surrounded by a fence, separating the prisoners from their overseers. Four towers stood guard along the fence line,
with robotic turrets that scanned everything around them.
On the
other side of the fence were six cabins for the prisoners, and a mess
hall. There were two guard towers as
well. There was no fence to separate the
prisoner’s yard from the jungle. Only
the concrete and the gravel on the ground marked the camp’s boundaries.
An old man
stepped out of the administrative building and approached the new
prisoners. He was fifty years old, but
looked to be a hundred. He had thin gray
hair and dark indigo eyes. His face was
etched with deep, unnatural wrinkles.
Combined with his skeletal figure, he looked like a specter.
He announced in a surprisingly
boisterous voice, “Welcome to Corjo! I am warden Chen; I am in charge of
everything here, so you must do everything I say. If you fail to obey my orders or my rules, we
will resort to deadly force. Is that
understood?”
A few
prisoners muttered an acknowledgement.
“When I ask
you a question, I expect an answer!” Chen roared. “Do you understand me?”
Ten of the
twelve prisoners shouted back, “Yes sir!”
“Don’t call
me sir! I’ve worked in this company for fifty years! I’ve earned my title as
warden! You must answer as, ‘Yes warden Chen’!”
“Yes warden
Chen!” eleven of the twelve prisoners replied.
A stern-looking man didn’t bother saying anything.
Chen gestured
at the silent prisoner. One of the
guards brandished a rifle and aimed it at the prisoner. It fired an invisible beam of sound waves at him;
the inaudible beam penetrated his ears and made his head hurt immensely. The prisoner crumpled to the ground, grasping
his head in pain.
The guard
stopped the beam and allowed the prisoner to recuperate.
“That’s
more like it,” Chen said. He paced in
front of the prisoners and lectured, “We are here to dig the Corjan ruins; that
is your only duty here for the rest of your lives. I expect all of you to dig and dig to the
best of your ability. If I feel you’re
not doing your jobs well, you will be punished!
“Escape is
generally impossible. This shuttle pad
is off limits, and anyone caught in this area will be shot. The only other option is the jungle. There is no fence to keep you from entering
or exiting the jungle. There is only an
invisible perimeter line that gives off a chemical scent to keep predators
away. If you enter the jungle on your
own, you won’t last long!
“You will
obey the guards at all times. You will
report to roll call every morning without exception. Failure will result in punishment! Remember,
too, that anyone caught in the restricted fenced areas will be shot!
“Meals are
served for thirty minutes twice a day.
An announcement will be made when it is time to eat. If you miss it, you get nothing!
“Now,” Chen
concluded, “all prisoners will report to building five for processing.”
The guards
made all of the new prisoners march to the prisoner processing building. Ryla was at the front of the line. She obediently stepped into the building and
found herself facing a guard seated behind a desk.
The guard
ordered, “Please empty your pockets and remove all your belongings and place
them on the desk.”
Ryla handed
over everything from her pockets: some
money, some bland chewing gum, and several ID cards. The guard curiously glanced at the cards,
noting that she was a former Maetherion employee. The words, “Career Terminated” were stamped
in red over them all.
The guard
apathetically discarded all of the belongings and said, “You will now be
scanned for any foreign objects.”
He pushed a
button on his desk, and a large ring-shaped device descended from the
ceiling. It passed over Ryla, and a hazy
blue field crackled electrically inside the ring. As it descended, the blur field passed
through her and made her skin tickle; she shifted uncomfortably.
On the
guard’s computer terminal, a complete molecular rendering of Ryla’s body
appeared. It showed everything from her
clothes to her bone marrow. The guard
immediately spotted a foreign object on her neck.
The guard
demanded, “You must give us your necklace, too.”
Ryla
stammered, “But I can’t! My father gave it to me.”
“Sorry
lady,” the guard insisted. “But your citizenship with the Maetherion
Corporation has been terminated. You do
not have the right to own any personal property here on Corjo.”
“But I
can’t give this up!” Ryla insisted. “It’s the only thing I have to remember him
by!”
The desk
guard ordered, “Someone get it for her.”
Another
guard roughly grabbed Ryla’s necklace and ripped it off her neck. He slapped it on the desk. It was a crystalline cross inset in a golden
star. Ryla looked upon it with her eyes
watering, and she put her hand where it used to lay on her chest.
“Very
good,” the desk guard said. “Next!”
Ryla was
taken to another room, which looked like a large showering room. The escorting guard ordered, “Now, take off
all your clothes so you can be cleansed.”
“What?”
Ryla snapped. “No!”
“Take off
your clothes so we can wash you,” the guard repeated.
“No, not in
front of you,” Ryla insisted. “Can’t I do this in private?”
“You’re not
entitled to privacy here. Take off your
clothes now. Failure to comply will
result in punishment.”
“Punish me
then!” Ryla bellowed. “I don’t deserve this kind of treatment!”
Taking out
his baton, the guard swung it hard against her stomach. The blow knocked the wind out of her and made
her bend over. Whacking her on the back
of the neck, he sent her sprawling to the floor. He then kicked her in the stomach. The pain in her neck and abdomen made her cry
openly.
“No more
trouble, lady,” the guard warned. “You’re not a Maetherion employee anymore;
you’re nothing! Do you get it now? You have no rights here; you have nothing
here! So take off your f&cking clothes, unless you want some more!”
Ryla rose
to her feet with tears still dripping down her cheeks. Obediently, she stripped off all her clothes
and stood at the far end of the room.
Her hands covered her exposed skin abashedly.
From the
wall, the guard took a hose and sprayed a cold blast of water on her. She gasped at the sudden gust of coldness on
her skin. She stood idly for a minute
as the guard hosed her down.
The guard
turned off the hose and ordered, “Go to the next room and get an inoculation.”
Ryla
obediently dashed to the next room, still naked and dripping with cold
water. In the next room, a guard plunged
a needle into her shoulder. He explained
that the shot would protect her from all known diseases on the planet.
She then
moved onto the next room, and was given a set of gray nondescript clothes. Bunk ten - bed number five - was assigned to
her. Even though she was still yet from
the hose, she donned her new clothes and stepped onto the prisoner’s yard.
As soon as
she exited the building, the crowd of prisoners stood around her and
gawked. She felt horribly uncomfortable,
especially after her humiliating processing.
It occurred to her that she may be the only woman in the whole camp;
everybody would be eager to take advantage of her. She silently walked towards her assigned bunk
and sat in her bed. There, she cried all
evening.
--------------------
For the new draft, I rewrote the whole scene anew and changed a lot of things creatively (guards are now robots, Chen is not as much of a weak old man, and chapter headings will be weird made-up compound words). I personally feel better about it, but there is still room for improvement (hook is still weak, still to much telling, not enough characterization yet).
For the new draft, I rewrote the whole scene anew and changed a lot of things creatively (guards are now robots, Chen is not as much of a weak old man, and chapter headings will be weird made-up compound words). I personally feel better about it, but there is still room for improvement (hook is still weak, still to much telling, not enough characterization yet).
New Draft:
1 - Postarbitration
Over planet Corjo, a freighter flew into orbit. From one of its hangar bays, a shuttle glided
towards the green and blue world, descending into its atmosphere with a new
shipment of fresh supplies, and fresh prisoners.
Penetrating the planet’s atmosphere, the shuttle soared over miles of
lush, green canopies and foliage. It
produced sonic booms in its wake, which shook the trees beneath it. Several minutes later, the shuttle braked,
and descended onto a man-made settlement in the middle of the jungle.
As it landed, prisoners from the Corjo labor camp stood behind the iron
fence, watching the ship curiously.
Their dirty faces showed mixed expressions of indifference and
misery.
Nevertheless, the monthly shipment was the highlight of their day, before they’d be forced to return to hard labor. Watching the shuttle gave them a welcome respite from their work; they got the chance to watch new supplies being offloaded, and they got to size up the new batch of prisoners.
Nevertheless, the monthly shipment was the highlight of their day, before they’d be forced to return to hard labor. Watching the shuttle gave them a welcome respite from their work; they got the chance to watch new supplies being offloaded, and they got to size up the new batch of prisoners.
The shuttle settled gently on the concrete landing pad. Its ramp came down; several robot guards
pushed the new prisoners out of the hold and onto the tarmac. The new prisoners were dressed in fresh sets
of uniforms: most wore all-white, representing
the minor crimes they committed against the Maetherion Corporation. A few were dressed in red, identifying them
as the most dangerous of felons: the
murderers and defilers, who would spend the rest of their days at the labor
camp until their bodies couldn’t take any more.
Among those dressed in white, there was a woman. She was skinny, with a smooth, clean
face. Her eyes were turquoise; her
eyebrows were short and slanted. Her
golden hair was long, fine, and clean; it glistened in the light of the
planet’s two suns. As she stepped onto
the concrete uncertainly, she could feel the eyes of all the prisoners on
her. Their expressions changed to
vicious, feral hunger; it had been years since any of them had laid eyes on a
woman.
The robot guards grouped the new prisoners to the edge of the landing
pad, and forced them into a straight line.
One of the prisoners in red refused to move in line; a robot guard
walked up to the burly man and ordered in a deep, mechanical voice, “You will
fall in line.”
“F&ck you, I never asked for this sh#t,” the prisoner pouted.
The robot moved against the prisoner.
He shoved against the machine and banged his fist on the metal plating
on its head. Grabbing his arm, the robot
twisted it hard, until it cracked loudly.
The prisoner grimaced, and a moan escaped his lips. Kicking him in the shins, the robot moved the
prisoner into line; he stood with the others, feebly holding his broken
arm.
One of the other prisoners slapped him on the back of the head and cried,
“What are you, stupid?”
“Shut up,” one of the robots retorted, nudging the talking prisoner with
its metal arm.
While the prisoners stood, more robots gathered around the shuttle to
offload crates of food, clothes, tools, parts, weapons, and fuel. Moments later, a gate opened in the fence,
and an old man with olive-colored skin, thin gray hair, and a weathered face
marched in front of the prisoners.
Regarding the prisoners with a scowl, the man announced, “I am Warden
Chen. This is planet Corjo – the
ugliest, slimiest, sh%ttiest outback world you can imagine. This is my world, so all your lives belong to
me. When I say anything, you will
listen, and obey. And believe me, you
will obey. If you think working at the
excavation is suffering, you haven’t even scratched the surface of
suffering. All of you are here, so you
can know the full meaning of the words ‘pain,’ and ‘suffering’. Those of you in white, you might achieve
repentance for your crimes if you work hard and stay clean. Those of you in red: you’re here to die little by little each day,
until your bodies can’t handle it anymore.
All I can say for you is, tough sh$t.
“Every day, you’ll be working on uncovering the ancient Corjan
ruins. You will work hard, until you
sweat, hurt, and bleed. I don’t care who
you are or what your sob story is; everybody works, and everybody suffers. Any insolence and any deficiency will be
dealt with as I see fit.
“Our facility has no fence line.
You’re free to leave the compound all you want. I won’t give a sh*t, because this jungle will
eat you alive. The only thing protecting
you from the plants and animals out there is an invisible perimeter line that
gives off pheromones and scents to keep the wildlife out. You can escape if you want to, but believe
me, you won’t want to. Don’t even think
about trying to go off-world, because it’s impossible. This shuttle you came from is the only
traffic this world ever gets, and my guards will f@ck you up if you try
anything.
“Meals are served twice a day, no more than thirty minutes at a
time. If you miss out, then that’s just
tough sh#t. Do you all understand me?”
The new prisoners mumbled acknowledgements.
“What was that? I can’t hear any of you pathetic slugs! When I ask you if
you understand me, I want to hear you all say ‘yes Warden Chen,’ loud and
proud. Do you understand me?”
The prisoners said loudly, “Yes Warden Chen.”
“What? That’s still not nearly loud enough! Do you sh%theads understand
me?”
“Yes Warden Chen!” the prisoners clamored.
“That’s more like it,” Chen said. “All of you, report to Building 5 for
processing.”
One prisoner shouted in a mocking tone, “Oh yes sir Mr. Warden Chen!
Right away Warden Chen! Anything you say Warden Chen!”
Walking up to the insolent prisoner, Chen sharply regarded him with his
indigo eyes and challenged, “You making fun of me?”
“No sir, Warden Chen!” the prisoner screamed, his lips curled into a
mocking smile.
Smacking him in the face, Chen yelled, “I don’t take this crap from
anyone! Shut the f*ck up and get to Building 5, before I wipe that smile off
your face with my gun!”
“This is bullsh@t!” the prisoner ranted. “You’re just an old man on a
power trip! You can’t do anything to me; I’m a Maetherion citizen!”
Drawing his sidearm, Chen pressed the barrel of his nuclear-powered
pistol against the prisoner’s lips, and said, “You are one dumb sh#thead. The minute you’re sentenced here, your
citizenship is revoked. You’re my
citizen now. And you know what? I think
you’re too stupid to stay a citizen of my camp.
What good are you if you keep shooting your mouth off at me? I think
I’ll end both our miseries and shoot your
mouth off!”
Before the prisoner could do
anything, Chen squeezed the trigger. A
hot yellow beam exploded from the pistol, and made the man’s head explode. The prisoners recoiled in terror as blood and
broken flesh flew out and splattered on the concrete.
The warden turned around and left the landing platform without a
word. The robot guards hustled the prisoners
to Building 5, where they formed a line and passed through an X-Ray arch. One by one, each prisoner stepped through the
arch, and was cleared by the guards. One
prisoner had to be diverted from the line for a body cavity search.
Next, each prisoner was scrutinized by a robot with a large red eye. The machine scanned each prisoner’s face and
eyes, matching them up to Maetherion’s criminal database. Once each prisoner was verified, the machine
stamped the prisoners’ arms with a barcode and their name in red letters.
The woman in the group passed through the X-Ray machine without trouble,
and stood before the big robot. She
pleaded with the machine, “I don’t think I’m supposed to be here. There has to be some mistake.”
Scanning her, the robot replied flatly, “Records match. There is no mistake. If your record remains clean, you’re eligible
for parole in five years.”
“Five years?” the woman’s voice choked. “No. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I should be on Mitheria Sigma at the
worst. This is–”
“This is your assigned prison sentence.
There is no mistake.”
Before the woman could argue any more, the robot stamped her arm. The hot ink seeped into her skin with
stinging pain. She looked at the barcode
in disbelief, and rubbed it with her fingers.
The ink had already fused with her skin, permanently tethering her to
the Corjo labor camp. Her name – Ryla
Corinthia – looked like it was branded in blood.
The robot extended another arm, which grabbed Ryla’s arm and pressed a
circular band of blue ink on the back of her hand. The new markings provided her bunk
assignment: Building 12, Bunk 35.
In a daze of fear and shock, Ryla was pushed down the line by the
guards. She passed beneath arches that
sprayed vaccines and immunities at her.
The clouds of mist seeped into her pores and flew through her nostrils,
smelling acrid.
When she left the building, Ryla stepped into an empty dirt lot. Several bunk buildings faced the lot; the
administrative and supply buildings were built behind a walled-off section,
with robotic turrets scanning the camp constantly.
As Ryla stepped across the lot, she felt the eyes of the other prisoners
on her. There were over a hundred men in
the camp, most of whom coveted her and her flesh. A shiver ran down her body, and goosebumps
formed on her arms, when she thought about the combined impulses of so many
male prisoners. She felt sick to her
stomach, knowing that she wouldn’t last long in the camp.
She found her bunk in Building 12.
She discovered that the whole building was designated for all female
prisoners, and it could only be opened with the marking on her hand. Knowing that she was segregated from the male
prisoners, she no longer worried about being assaulted in the middle of the
night. When she found her assigned bunk,
she realized that the place was too clean; she was the only female prisoner in
the whole camp. She wondered if the camp
ever had any other female prisoners, and if so, what happened to them.
Lying on the bunk, Ryla felt overwhelming dread and confusion. She didn’t understand why she was on Corjo; her
crimes were minor, and she expected to be taken to a standard prison. She didn’t even know where in the galaxy she
was, but it was clear to her that she was thousands of light years away from
any form of civilization. When she
recalled her sentencing, she realized that her incarceration on Corjo was no
accident; somebody purposefully arranged for her to be there. She was accused of spying on executives; now,
they made sure that she’d never reveal the few secrets she learned.
She didn’t even know or care about those secrets. She came across the information by accident,
and didn’t give any of it a second thought.
When the Maetherion guards came for her, she was shocked and confused
during the entire hearing. Her defense
was silenced quickly, and she never even had the chance to arrange for legal
counsel. The judges produced evidence as
if from thin air, and in the next few hours, she was sent to the shuttle.
On Corjo, the weight of her incarceration finally sunk in, and she
realized that her life was as good as over.
Even if the other prisoners weren’t a threat, she couldn’t last long
working on hard labor. She spent her
whole career as an administrative servant, specializing in accounting,
bureaucracy, organizing summits, and arranging presentations. She feared that hard labor would break her.
Once she realized that the life she was accustomed to was gone, Ryla
couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down her face, and the sobs from escaping
her lips. She cried until the planets’
suns set, and the cabin was all dark.
--------------------Upon recent reflection, I decided to tweak this opening chapter even more, to immediately immerse the reader into Ryla's perspective and reveal information in a different way. I addressed one or two logical issues (Ryla is branded upon sentencing, not when she gets to Corjo), and there are still a couple of things I should address (I forgot to mention Ryla's parole options). Still, this is probably the direction I'll be heading for this story from here on out.
Newest Draft
1 - Postarbitration
In the cell, Ryla Corinthia knew she was safe. Even though the cot was hard and the small toilet offered no privacy, she found comfort in the gentle vibrations reverberating through the shuttle’s hull, and the faint hum of the engines. She forced herself to lay on the cot and enjoy what few comforts she could, because once the shuttle lands, she would be on planet Corjo, to work the next five years of her life in the labor camp. Chances are that she'll be there for longer.
Ryla spent hours turning on the cot, trying to find a comfortable position. While she was on her side, her turquoise eyes settled on her forearm. Her name was branded there in red ink, with numbers associating her with her criminal record and sentence. It looked like a tattoo made of blood. She still felt a residual stinging on the flesh, from the sentencing process. When the robot sounded out her file, she gawked at the machine and trembled. In a broken voice, she told it, “There has to be some mistake. I should be on Mitheria Sigma at the worst. But…Corjo?”
“There is no mistake,” the robot declared, before guards carried her to the cell. The unfeeling voice continued to haunt Ryla. Her crimes were minor, and she expected to be taken to a standard prison. When she recalled her sentencing, she realized that her incarceration on Corjo was no accident. Somebody purposefully arranged for her to be there. She was accused of spying on executives. Now, they made sure that she’d never reveal the few secrets she learned.
She didn’t even know or care about those secrets. She came across the information by accident, and didn’t give any of it a second thought. When the Maetherion guards came for her, she was shocked and confused during the entire hearing. Her defense was silenced quickly, and she never even had the chance to arrange for legal counsel. The judges produced evidence as if from thin air, and in the next few hours, she was sent to the shuttle.
While en route, the weight of her sentence finally sunk in, and she realized that her life was as good as over. She couldn’t last long working on hard labor, and the other prisoners would show her no mercy. Even if Corjo wouldn’t kill her, it would break her.
After countless hours alone in the steel cell, Ryla felt the ship lurch. She jerked awake, when she realized that they were passing through Corjo’s atmosphere and landing. Through the bars, she saw robots rolling out of their niches and unfolding into man-sized forms. They stood guard along the walls, as all of the cell doors in the ship opened.
Prisoners walked out of their cells and down the main corridor. Ryla stood at the threshold of her cell, but stopped short when she saw the others staring at her. Their expressions betrayed their primal urges, as if their sullen eyes could speak and tell her that they all wanted to violate her.
As Ryla stood and trembled, the robot guards took notice. One of them nudged her into the group of prisoners. She kept her head down, focusing on her shuffling feet to avoid everybody’s wicked stares.
Ahead, the shuttle’s ramp led down to a concrete landing pad. As she continued towards it, she felt somebody’s hand on her shoulder. A shiver crawled down her spine, and the rest of her body became taut. She felt somebody’s hot breath against her cheek, and a voice whispered into her ear, “Tonight…your a$$ is mine, b*tch.”
Ryla wanted to break away and start running, but her legs refused to move. Before anything else could happen, a guard walked up to the man behind her. It said, “No talking. Keep moving.”
When the machine nudged the prisoner, he shoved back and shouted, “Hey, f#ck you!”
In the next instant, the robot slammed its fist into the man’s face. His head snapped to the side with a loud crack. Blood and spit flew from his lips, before he tumbled to the ground, moaning. The other prisoners kept walking, keeping their attention focused away from the trouble.
When Ryla stepped down the ramp, a blast of hot, humid air washed over her. The light from Corjo’s twin yellow suns was nearly blinding, compared to the dim shuttle. When Ryla’s eyes adjusted, she saw an iron fence surrounding the landing pad. The dirty faces of dozens of prisoners gawked at the new prisoners, showing mixed expressions of misery and indifference. Many of their gazes settled on Ryla, who stood out with her glistening blonde hair. Their expressions showed vicious, feral hunger – it had been years since any of them had laid eyes on a woman.
Regarding the prisoners, Ryla realized that most of them wore red uniforms. They were sentenced to Corjo for any number of heinous crimes. In her clean white uniform, which signified minor crimes, Ryla felt even more out of place.
The robot guards grouped the new prisoners to the edge of the landing pad, and forced them into a straight line. More guards offloaded crates of food, clothes, tools, parts, weapons, and fuel from the ship’s hold. Moments later, a gate opened in the fence, and an old man with olive-colored skin, thin gray hair, and a weathered face marched in front of the prisoners.
Regarding the prisoners with a scowl, the man announced, “I am Warden Chen. This is planet Corjo – the ugliest, slimiest, sh*ttiest outback world you can imagine. This is my world, so all your lives belong to me. When I say anything, you will listen, and obey. And believe me, you will obey. If you think working at the excavation is suffering, you haven’t even scratched the surface of suffering. All of you are here, so you can know the full meaning of the words ‘pain,’ and ‘suffering’. Those of you in white, you might achieve repentance for your crimes if you work hard and stay clean. Those of you in red: you’re here to die little by little each day, until your bodies can’t handle it anymore. All I can say for you is, tough sh%t.
“Every day, you’ll be working on uncovering the ancient Corjan ruins. You will work hard, until you sweat, hurt, and bleed. I don’t care who you are or what your sob story is; everybody works, and everybody suffers. Any insolence and any deficiency will be dealt with as I see fit.
“Our facility has no fence line. You’re free to leave the compound all you want. I won’t give a sh#t, because the jungle will eat you alive. The only thing protecting you from the plants and animals out there is an invisible perimeter line that gives off pheromones and scents to keep the wildlife out. You can escape if you want to, but believe me, you won’t want to. Don’t even think about trying to go off-world, because it’s impossible. This shuttle you came from is the only traffic this world ever gets, and my guards will f&ck you up if you try anything.
“Meals are served twice a day, no more than thirty minutes at a time. If you miss out, then that’s just tough sh#t. Do you all understand me?”
The new prisoners mumbled acknowledgements.
“What was that? I can’t hear any of you pathetic slugs! When I ask you if you understand me, I want to hear you all say ‘yes Warden Chen,’ loud and proud. Do you understand me?”
The prisoners said loudly, “Yes Warden Chen.”
“What? That’s still not nearly loud enough! Do you shitheads understand me?”
“Yes Warden Chen!” the prisoners clamored.
“That’s more like it,” Chen said. “All of you, report to Building 5 for processing.”
One prisoner shouted in a mocking tone, “Oh yes sir Mr. Warden Chen! Right away Warden Chen! Anything you say Warden Chen!”
Walking up to the insolent prisoner, Chen sharply regarded him with his indigo eyes and challenged, “You making fun of me?”
“No sir, Warden Chen!” the prisoner screamed, his lips curled into a mocking smile.
Smacking him in the face, Chen yelled, “I don’t take this crap from anyone! Shut the f*ck up and get to Building 5, before I wipe that smile off your face with my gun!”
“This is bullsh&t!” the prisoner ranted. “You’re just an old man on a power trip! You can’t do anything to me; I’m a Maetherion citizen!”
Drawing his sidearm, Chen pressed the barrel of his nuclear-powered pistol against the prisoner’s lips, and said, “You are one dumb sh*thead. The minute you’re sentenced here, your citizenship is revoked. You’re my citizen now. And you know what? I think you’re too stupid to stay a citizen of my camp. What good are you if you keep shooting your mouth off at me? I think I’ll end both our miseries and shoot your mouth off!”
Before the prisoner could do anything, Chen squeezed the trigger. A hot yellow beam exploded from the pistol, and made the man’s head explode. The prisoners recoiled in terror as blood and broken flesh flew out and splattered on the concrete. With wide, teary eyes, Ryla watched the scene and couldn't stop trembling.
The warden turned around and left the landing platform without a word. The robot guards hustled the prisoners to Building 5, where they formed a line and passed through an X-Ray arch. One by one, each prisoner stepped through the arch, and was cleared by the guards.
Afterwards, each prisoner’s arms were scanned. When Ryla’s brand was processed, a mechanical arm extended down. It grabbed her arm and pressed a circular band of blue ink on the back of her hand. The new markings provided her bunk assignment: Building 12, Bunk 35.
Ryla was pushed down the line by the guards. She passed beneath arches that sprayed vaccines and immunities at her. The clouds of mist seeped into her pores and flew through her nostrils, smelling acrid.
When she left the building, Ryla stepped into an empty dirt lot. Several bunk buildings faced the lot; the administrative and supply buildings were built behind a walled-off section, with robotic turrets scanning the camp constantly.
As Ryla stepped across the lot, she felt the eyes of the other prisoners on her. There were over a hundred men in the camp, most of whom coveted her and her flesh. She felt sick to her stomach, knowing that she wouldn’t last long in the camp.
She found her bunk in Building 12. She discovered that the whole building was designated for all female prisoners, and it could only be opened with the marking on her hand. Knowing that she was segregated from the male prisoners, she no longer worried about being assaulted in the middle of the night. When she found her assigned bunk, she realized that the place was too clean; she was the only female prisoner in the whole camp. She wondered if the camp ever had any other female prisoners. If so, what happened to them?
Ryla couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down her face, and the sobs from escaping her lips. She finally comprehended the full weight of her sentence, and it seemed inevitable that it would crush her. She cried until the planets’ suns set, and the cabin was all dark.
--------------------
Hopefully, you'll see how much has changed, and find the latest draft the most engrossing. As far as this story goes, I rewrote about 25,000 words, and decided to go back and change some more stuff, so it's practically a new third draft.
The work shall continue until Warden Chen is satisfied...
