When we started this journey, we never thought we'd find a viable colony this far outside of the mainstream of Corporation space. To be perfectly honest, we couldn’t begin to understand why they even sent us to look. The Corp had a lot of very well-defined objectives, but looking out for the general health and well-being of individuals had never been paramount. Of course, we should have known they were up to something; they were The Corp.
Now, life onboard a Corp ship wasn’t all that bad. We got fed, got decent living space and got a regular paycheck deposited into an account we seldom had either the opportunity or the need to access. On the down side, we hadn’t seen Earth in almost five years, we had no say in where we were headed next or what exactly we’d be doing when we got there. Everything we did wind up doing pretty much ensured there wouldn’t be as many of us in the mess hall the next day as the day before.
That pretty much sums up life on a Corp ship. It still beat the dickens out of living on a home world so overcrowded, polluted, and hopeless that existence there was more a cruel joke than something to be treasured. It sure as hell beat signing away whatever you had to live on a Colony world.
At last count, The Corp had colonized over 250 different worlds and those numbers weren’t held to be 100% accurate. Though Corp tried their best to put a positive spin on everything, it was known life wasn’t exactly ducky on the vast majority of worlds. Supply lines were stretched to their limits and beyond so most Colony worlds were expected to be as self-sustaining as possible.
That much we could agree made sense…mostly. But when you’re new home doesn’t have things like an intrinsic water supply that’s safe to drink or an entirely breathable atmosphere, certain resupply items are more important for you than for some less challenging worlds. That didn’t mean you were going to get the things you needed, it just meant you had a more pressing need.
That was where those of us in the Corp Fleet came in. We shunted from one pesthole to the next using the considerable fabrication and repair facilities of the ship to assist in whatever way we could. It was a job, you’d suspect, likely to leave one with a sense of accomplishment and pride for doing good and noble things to aid your fellow sentient beings with whom you shared a common species and point of origin. It didn’t.
We never seemed to be able to do quite as much as needed done and it never seemed to be enough for those that needed it. We should have known when they sent us this far out things would end up being even more cocked up than usual…but that’s a story for another time. Trust me, it won’t have a happy ending.