The warm orange sun shined down on the golden wheat fields of Hedion V. The wheat was over a meter and a half long, nearly ready for harvest. The narrow stalks dwarfed a pale and pudgy young Amarrian boy, who ran along the grassy edge of one of the fields. He had spotted three dark skinned Brutor boys approaching some distance away, and having recognized them from afar, set out to meet them.
As he ran, the young Amarrian held one hand behind his back, making his already awkward running gait unbalanced and all the more ridiculous. His labored breaths came fast and erratic as his short plump legs carried his bulging frame as best as they could.
The Brutors, aged 7, 8, and 9, were about the same age as the Amarrian boy. They contrasted sharply in appearance to him, however. They all possessed dark brown skin, and although somewhat scrawny, were in fit physical condition, a side effect of their servitude as slaves to the Empire. As the Amarrian drew closer the three, upon spotting him, hesitated for a moment as if considering a change in direction in an attempt to avoid him, but it was already too late. As he came closer, there was a look of delight on the young pudgy boy's face, and it was apparent that he either did not perceive the displeasure the Brutor boys had at his approach, or simply did not care.
"What are you holding behind your back, Dochuta?" asked the oldest Brutor, curiously. The other two, who flanked the eldest to either side, craned their necks in the attempt to get a peek at whatever it was Dochuta was concealing.
"Goodies!" beamed the Amarrian, his face lighting up with a wide smile. His hidden hand darted out from behind his back revealing four small packs of Quafe Glucoroos. They were sugary candy treats that were as unhealthy as they were delicious. Dochuta gleefully dolled out the treats with a fat sweaty hand. The Brutor children, who were nearly never able to gain access to such delicacies, happily accepted.
All four children made short work of the treats, greedily woofing them down. Dochuta, loving anything sweet was, unsurprisingly, the first to finish, but the Brutor children were not far behind. The 8 year old Brutor, finishing his tasty Glucoroos, was suddenly hit with a flash of inspiration, and leaned over to whisper something into the ear of the eldest. He nodded his approval with what was said and smiled.
"Dochuta, you should go get some more of those Quafe snacks and come with us down to the river to play. We can all eat them there together!" said the oldest, with a smile.
"Yes, we are going to make a raft, and sail the river!" chirped the 8 year old Brutor. The youngest Minmatar looked as if he was about to speak in protest to the idea of the Amarrian coming along, but was quickly elbowed by the eldest, and kept quiet.
Dochuta jumped at the idea of playing with the other kids. There were no Amarrian children his age nearby, and unlike Dochuta, the Minmatar children had already been made fully aware of the differences between their two races, and usually took great pains to avoid him. In his awkward loneliness Dochuta had become desperate for interaction with anyone his age. So much so that he was not above resorting to bribery. Still, he had reservations.
"I don't know if I can get more of them. Those were all the treats I was allowed for the day. I might get in trouble," Dochuta said with a frown. "But I would love to go to the river with you, anyway!" he said with a smile.
The smile disappeared from eldest Brutor's face. "You should, at least, try," he insisted.
"If he won't try maybe he shouldn't come. We probably couldn't build a raft to hold him, anyway," said the second oldest Brutor, a sly smile on his face. He was taking a risk the eldest Brutor wasn't bold enough to try. Dochuta was the son of Darius Karsoth, a prominent Hedion Holder. Angering the son of a Holder could have far reaching consequences, but the young Brutor was emboldened partly by the foolishness of youth and partly by a desire for more sweet delicious Quafe Glucoroos.
"I'll try, I'll try!" Dochuta stammered, with clear desperation in his voice. "Stay here I'll be right back! You'll see!" Dochuta turned and ran for the plantation compound a hundred meters away. He was normally ignored or avoided by the Minmatar slave children of the plantations, and this was finally his chance to make some friends.
Unbeknownst to the children, the Holder was watching the exchange from one of the compound's windows. He was not close enough to hear the exchange, but had witnessed his son give his treats to the slave children, and watched with interest as his son ran back to the compound. It seemed quite unlike his son to let anyone or anything get between himself and his treats.
"Interesting," the Holder mused to himself. "Rise Apostle," the Holder barked. A large slaver hound which was previously lying silently in the corner of the room, stood up quickly in response to the command. "Let us...investigate." He walked toward the door, the slaver hound followed.
Dochuta entered the compound kitchen quietly and looked around. Seeing that it was empty he moved for a cabinet next to the tall silver food preservation unit. The cabinet which usually contained the snacks was above the counter, out of reach. Little Dochuta climbed up on the counter top as quietly as he could so that he could reach the button to open the cabinet door. It slid open as he pressed it. In triumph, he grabbed his Quafe snack prize with his sweaty pudgy hands, and in his excitement nearly fell off the counter to the floor below. Jumping down from the counter, he waddled quickly across the kitchen floor to the exit, momentarily distracted by the cartoon characters on the back of the box. He was suddenly startled horribly as he found himself face to face with Apostle. The slaver hound stood tall in the doorway, blocking the only way out. The slaver hound gave a low growl and revealed its large sharp teeth with a snarl. If Dochuta was not already pale white he would have turned so, staggering back in horror.
"What have we here, Apostle?" The Holder asked as he strode into view. The slaver made room for the Holder to enter the kitchen. The silky red and black robes of the Holder slid across the floor as he walked. Seeing the startled look on his son, the Holder smiled. "What is that you have there, my son?"
"S-s-snacks father," the young boy stammered.
"I see," said the Holder. "If I am not mistaken you were already given your allotment of snacks by the house servant were you not?" The Holder's brow raised inquisitively.
"Y-y-yes father," Dochuta said, as he stood up slowly. The slaver had entered the kitchen and was eying him angrily, its large teeth still very visible. It kept its distance but stood near its master.
"As I recall you received this allotment not ten minutes ago, did you not? Have you eaten them all so quickly?" The Holder eyed his son suspiciously.
"I have father," said Dochuta shamefully.
"I see." The holder nodded slowly. "And I presume in your insatiable hunger you are back for more?" Dochuta's father reached out with a veiled hand and poked Dochuta's protruding belly with an extended finger.
"I am, father," Dochuta said as he looked down at the floor.
The Holder reached down to grasp Dochuta's jaw between his thumb and fingers, tilting his sons face upward to meet his gaze. His eyes narrowed as he glared at his son. "If you are going to lie to me, my son, I suggest you learn to do so with more skill," the Holder said in a reproachful tone, releasing his grip on his son's chin. His tone softened. "So tell me, dear son, why you gave those slave children outside most of your snacks, and then risked punishment to return for more. Were you going to give these to them as well?" the Holder asked as he plucked the box away from Dochuta's grasp.
"I-I-I was," Dochuta stuttered nervously. "I wanted them to like me...to be friends. They told me if I got them more treats I could come with them to the river to play."
"Well! That is reason indeed!" scoffed the Holder with a laugh. "Come my son. It is time we had an important conversation." The Holder motioned for his son to follow him to a chair by the table. He sat down and motioned for the boy to have a seat on his lap. "Perhaps this is, in part, my fault," the Holder mused. "I know that my duties as a Holder often require me to take my leave of you quite frequently. I have not had the time in recent years to fully educate you in the order of things, and it has become quite apparent that the house servant and your tutors have been negligent in this matter as well...a negligence which will carry with it... severe consequences," the holder hissed through clenched teeth. "It certainly does not help that there are no Amarrian children for you to play with, instead of those slave rabble."
Dochuta nodded, and stared up at his father. He was in awe of his father, who seemed to have such great control over the affairs of the plantation. When his father spoke everyone listened, and when they did not, he punished them accordingly. It seemed from his point of view that his father was the most powerful person on Hedion V, if not the universe.
"It is important for you to realize, my son, that a true Amarr, like yourself, could never truly be friends with any Minmatar," the Holder scoffed. "A slave lacks the nobility, the strength of character, and the morality, to be a friend of any real value. Do you know the story of how the Amarr met the Minmatar?"
"No father, tell me," said Dochuta.
"When, by the grace of the Almighty God, we first found the Minmatar, so long ago, they were a sorry breed of savages that lived like animals in huts made of mud. We saw them in such a poor state, and took pity on them, and raised them up from their state of decay. We raised them out of their petty conflicts, and squalor, and their rampant disease. In God's name we brought them faith, and with it salvation, and a purpose for being! For this they should have loved us!" the Holder exclaimed with wide eyes, as he swung his hand in a grand sweeping gesture. "But being a sorry breed of fickle, greedy, and savage creature, their memory grew short, and they turned against us, their betters, at the first opportunity!
"Why did they do that father?" asked Dochuta, his eyes wide.
"The Minmatar slave is a vile creature, my son! Do not be fooled by their human appearance, and their ability to mimic speech! They are beasts in human form! They are unable to reason as men should, and unmoved by sound argument." The holders voice calmed and took a quieter tone. "You see, my son, you are an Amarr. God in his infinite wisdom and mercy saw fit that we, his chosen few, rule over the Minmatar to save them from themselves. You are their better. You are their master, never their equal. As such, it is better that you be feared by them than loved."
"Why is that father?" the boy asked.
"Because the love of a slave for his master is fleeting, and lasts only as long as their fickle slave minds can sustain it. They would pretend to be your friend in good times, when it suits them, but in your hour of need they would rise up against you! But while those slaves bound to you by love desert you in your hour of need, those who are bound to you by fear will remain. For while love is fickle and easily deserted, the fear of the whip endures...no matter what the circumstance." The holder paused for a moment. "You love me, do you not, my son?"
"I do father!" Dochuta cried out.
"And yet it took them so little time to corrupt you," the Holder growled. "They had you ready to steal from your own father, whom you profess to love! All for their own pleasure! They had no pause at the possibility you might be punished! If you, a boy of good and blessed Amarr blood could be made to do such evil, just imagine what those beasts would do to you when it suited their needs!"
"I was so foolish father!" Dochuta squeaked, tears running down his chubby cheeks.
"Yes you were, my son, but it is good that we corrected such an error in time, before those Brutors had the chance to corrupt you further. Their Brutor soul's are as dark as their skin, and evil comes so naturally to them."
As the Holder spoke, Apostle drew menacingly closer, saliva dripping from his teeth filled maw. The Holder quickly unveiled a hidden pain-stick, a rod with a forked metallic tip. With a lightening quick motion he jabbed it into the slaver's side. The powerful animal yelped loudly and retreated to a corner of the kitchen, whimpering with fear as it curled itself into a small shaking ball. Dochuta looked on with startled amazement at how quickly the powerful animal was reduced to something so cowardly.
"They, like any beast, would be entirely without redemption if it was not for their understanding of pain. It is only through pain or the fear thereof that the Minmatar can achieve salvation. Only through fear can the slave savages be dragged, kicking and screaming, out of their own darkness!" The Holder spat out his words through clenched teeth, with vitriol the Minmatar of the plantation knew all too well. The Holder paused in thought for a few moments, and then handed the pain-stick to his son. "It is our solemn and sacred duty as Amarr to see that the Minmatar reach salvation. The Minmatar boys are still outside and await your return, my son. They await your righteous judgement. You must not disappoint them...or me."
Dochuta ran back along the edge of the field toward the three boys. They were sitting on the grassy edge of the field playing in the dirt, and saw him approaching. They observed the Amarrian's awkward running gait, and saw that he, again, held a hand behind his back. As he drew close the eldest Minmatar spoke first.
"We were beginning to wonder if you were coming back!"
"Did you bring us more treats?" the youngest one asked.
"I brought something much better!" exclaimed Dochuta Karsoth. A wicked smile spread across his face as he stepped closer toward the three, his hand still concealed behind his back. "I've brought you...your salvation!"
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