MissMittens

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Cat wrestled with Milo on the narrow platform as bullets clanged across rails and steel. She could hear the diversion on the other side, but none of it registered. They were going to be okay. She knew this from the pit of her stomach and willed it with every muscle in her body. They had to be okay.

She climbed through Milo's grip on her belly and dragged Drake to a crouch. He was massive, sinking her to her knees, but he pushed himself forward. Milo took his other arm and most of his weight with it. They crouched and wobbled across the dock. Turrets whirled above and sprayed bullets as the overhead horn blared louder.

The lights flicked from white work lights to bright, erie red in the room as a siren blared; "Warning: Intruders in Loading Zone. All personnel report immediately."

They were almost of time. Cat could hear the slams of more robotic suits in other zone. She laid Drake’s weight down and slid off the top of the plating truck. She climbed into the operator’s cabin. The docks were quieter inside, but the peace was short-lived. She pushed the steering rod toward the ship.

Cat drove through piles of smaller crates, sending packages of rations and water jugs spraying in her wake.

"Cat, be careful!" Drake yelled. "We're going to fall!"

"Hold onto your grandmas!" she yelled back.

Just a few more paces. The massive crates near the door created a safe alcove, but it wouldn't last once those mech suits got there. Images of explosions and torpedos were stickered onto the sides. If those took too much fire, they would be dead. She braked as she neared the door... but the electric brakes did nothing. The truck accelerated straight into the ship’s base.

She heard her dearest friends yell as the truck flipped and slammed against the ship. Cat felt the cabin's console crush into her belly and legs, but her only thought was of her friends above. She pulled herself onto the cabin, gasping at the biting pain, and saw the two dangling over the thin rails. Drake pulled himself up, grunted, and pulled Milo up.

"Cat!" Milo screamed. She waved her hand and searched for something to latch onto.

"Get inside the ship!" she yelled.

She knew Milo wouldn't listen. She grabbed one of the pressure cables below the platform and pulled as hard as she could. Her core ached, but she could feel the weight of the cart and the whine of tilted metal as the two moved above. Before she could finish climbing, she felt someone scruff her and pull her up by her collar. Then she smelled a fragrance that could only be described as Drake. He dropped her on the rail and curled forward.

Milo grabbed her shoulder and pointed at the door. She could hear one of the large torpedo crates move, threatening their short refuge. Cat held her breath to contain her pain, leapt, and grabbed the edge of the small port to the ship. Someone pushed her up, but by the normal strength, she knew it was her brother. Cat cried out as her bruised muscles struggled until she felt her balance shift - into the ship. Then, without thought, she turned on her belly and reached down.

Drake practically threw Milo into her grasp with one arm. She pulled her brother hard. He, too, ignored the ship and turned instead to their friend. They lay on their bellies and reached for Drake.

Drake groaned when he reached up. He shifted his weight off his bleeding leg. “I can’t!” he yelled.

"Drake, now!" Milo yelled back.

Milo slung his black coat out the ship, revealing the neat white shirt underneath. Drake pulled and latched onto Milo’s wrist. Then Milo slid face-first out of the door. Cat held Milo's legs as he flung out. She felt her brother sliding farther and tried to find purchase, wrapping her feet around what felt like a pressure lock. Milo groaned and pulled. A spatter of bullets sprayed the edge. Cat felt a surge of terror suddenly numb every muscle as she pulled her brother into the belly of the dark ship. Then she saw Drake crawl inside.

They turned to the crates. The torpedos had been moved aside. They could see the other group, the distractors, fighting for their lives as well. Cat knew that the enemy of her enemy was her friend, but she knew that she and her friends were lucky to still be alive.

Milo pushed himself to his feet and ran into the narrow corridor of the ship. “I’m turning the weapons system on. Drake, start the ship,” he ordered.

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” Drake said.

Cat looked to the group outside. She couldn’t leave them. They needed help. “Drake, help Milo get the weapons system on. We’re going to help them.”

“They’re dead,” Milo said. “We’re dead, too, if we don’t leave now.”

“We can’t leave them!” Cat ignored her brother and pushed inside. She didn’t know much about ships, but she was sure that the nose of the ship contained mostly computers and shield generators based on the countless times she had watched ships from afar. Below, she could see food reserves. She followed the small diagram to where the weapons bay was.

“Please, Milo’s God, if you’re listening, help me save those people!” she prayed. She climbed into a bubble of a room and found a panel of levers and buttons with a dark UV-resistant window. She suddenly realized that one wrong move would kill those three. Oh boy.

She touched an LED screen. Circles surrounded the turrets and guards as she tapped their faces. “Auto-targeting engaged,” a feminine AI’s voice said. She searched the buttons and turned a button labeled “turrets”. And like that, hell rained down on the soldiers and automatic turrets.

She ran back to the door and searched for the three. “Hurry up!” she screamed.

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The strobe lights in the hallways flicked on and blinked. Red lights joined soon after with a horn. Milo pulled Cat into an alcove between two panels and listened. An intercom blared: “Warning! Unauthorized activation detected in the hangar! Warning!”

“This ain’t the hangar,” Drake yelled over the horns.

“Someone else is here,” Milo said. He hesitated to move from the shadow. Were these other intruders their friends or their foes? It wasn’t uncommon for other gangs to hop in and lend a hand, but every gig became even less predictable with even more people.

Cat shot into the hallway suddenly, ripping him from his solemn thoughts. Four guards fell and convulsed on the floor as probes shot thousands of volts of electricity coursing through their bodies. Drake slammed two more into the wall and let them fall as well.

“Put their uniforms on,” Cat yelled.

“No!” Drake snapped. “They can track us!”

Milo lifted one of the helmets and inspected it. A blue light blinked beside the visor. It was likely a unit meant to track GPS and vitals of the individual contractor. “The gun is likely finger-printed. Leave them alone, Cat,” he warned.

She visibly deflated and looked over her shoulder. He was angry at her, but she dared look like a puppy that had been stricken? He was giving up his life that he’d established for her. He’d found his place in the world. Now he was a criminal. He could be studying and praying before his official naming as a full priest, but he was here, ransacking paid thugs’ belts.

“All units to the hangar! Report!”

Drake looked over his shoulder. There was only silence. “We can make a run for it now,” he said.

“No. We have to get to the hangar. The city police probably have our faces up all over the city,” Cat said. “We either get on that ship before everyone else, or we’re done for!”

Milo sighed. Cat was dramatic and could see the world for its truths so quickly. He could almost remember being so rambunctious. He pushed her between himself and Drake, a makeshift shield on both ends, and let Drake lead the way to the hangar.

The guards were distracted. They were going to be lucky. Milo was shocked with the silence with which they moved through the echoing chambers. He detested excess noise, the worst flaw of any criminal. When they accidentally tailed a pair of guards, Drake dispatched both in complete silence. He was a big lad, but he moved lithely. When did his childhood friend become so strong?

They reached a small hole in the wall that still smoked. The guards ran around the wall to a main door. Milo grabbed Cat and indicated to the hole. They were small enough to squeeze in, but the guards wouldn’t break formation to sneak in. She hissed to Drake to stop and investigate.

“I can’t get through that,” he said.

“Well, lift us, and we’ll find a way in,” Cat said. She furrowed her brows, her notorious no-nonsense look.

“And leave me?” he yelped.

“I won’t leave you behind,” Milo said simply. Drake’s pale indignation vanished immediately.

Drake cupped his hands and helped Milo first. He looked over the room, but they were on top of a plating machine. Three figures moved on the loading dock near the door. They were close. If they sealed that door…

Cat landed on her feet and dusted her knees. Then, with a groan, Drake crawled through. His hips caught in the hole. His gun caught between him and the rubble. With a shake, the gun clattered to the platform.

“Hush!” Cat hissed. “We have to get up there! They’re going to take the ship!”

Up close, the Federation Supernovae was even more incredible. The ramps looked like pincers holding the slender ship in place. The deep blue sides shimmered in the starlight. It was massive, but its sleek design made it a gentle giant. Cat counted the panels where its assault weapons would pop out. A cylinder coned the center near the middle jets where three escape pods would eject.

Cat grabbed Milo’s hand and yanked him toward the platform. Milo pulled his hand back and shoved her into the platform just as a barrage of bullets rained down across the metal floors. Drake cried out as a bullet ripped his leg. Cat turned to help him, but Milo wrestled her again. She couldn’t get killed saving him, or they would both die. He pulled her gun from her belt and shot the drones with a mighty stunning bolt.

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Cat checked her clip again. She had eight shells, two in her own customized extension on the standard Federation blaster, and two more magazines. If all went as Molly predicted, she wouldn't need them. They just needed to lift whatever this new weapon was away from the Federation's warehouse line and get out. They had eight minutes, according to her surveillance on the drone cameras. That included breaking in and getting out. The Federation would be one mega weapon short, and she would have one more tool for serving justice in her sector of the slums.

They waited near a ground-level card shop where credits could be spent on grocery and energy cards. The cashier was in the midst of a haze break, sucking on an inhaler and letting the narcotic fill his bloodstream until his eyes blackened with the substance. He wouldn't know she was there. He probably wouldn't know if he was even there. She leaned into the column and looked up and down the narrow alley. No one was around. Everyone was turning in for the night for Federation-mandated curfew.

She spotted Molly at the vending machine. The cue was for her to press the return button, but she looked genuinely interested in the goods inside. She was a great actress, fumbling for her purse, changing her mind. Then she turned the mirror over the machine and pressed the coin return. That meant that Drake was in the warehouse and had opened the window. Cat sprang into action with all the lithe action of a feline.

Molly walked in with all the regality of a queen entering a palace, but Cat was a shadow. She scanned the space, knowing Drake would have stalled if there was a problem. The issue with Drake was that he was a big, macho idiot who would miss an elephant in the room if his head was in the clouds. She loved that big, macho idiot and had grown up with him. He was like another brother to her.

"I don't see a weapon," Drake grumbled. He flipped a crate over, but the dust that piled on the floor muffled the noise.

"Did you try to steal it already? For yourself?" Molly asked. She wiped her hands on her pants after flipping a few hanging frames for secret compartments. Drake only responded with a grunt.

Molly had seen Federation officers investigate a room after a murder. There were four ways to investigate a murder, but the two best ways were to work from the outside to the center in tight rings or to sweep back and forth. She followed Molly, not minding the dust, and watched the shadows. Something would be strange. She moved a metal cage filled with oil and ore and coughed as dust rolled up. Why was the warehouse so dusty? She tripped while coughing and caught her footing.

"We have six minutes. Come on," Molly said. She was only on the second wall. Why was she rushing them?

Cat helped Drake open crates and spring locks. A light passed through the window. They froze in the shadows. How sure were they that they had time? Was it too late? She silently pushed at the wall and found no give. Drake rolled another crate, but it was already empty. He had already checked that one. Then she remembered the carpet. Why did a warehouse have a carpet? She lifted the corner and found a door.

"Drake, help me move this crate over. There's something under it," she whispered.

The light beamed through the window again. Molly stopped. "Hurry," she added.

He pushed, rippling his thick biceps and rolling his abs under the thin linen shirt. Cat almost dropped the crate. He wasn't terribly smart, but Drake was distractingly beautiful. Even without her attention and help, he moved the crate inch by inch.

Then they heard voices. They were coming from the window they'd crawled into and from the front gate.

Molly was as pale as death. She had been in this exact situation with Drake. It was the night Milo had been caught and taken away. Molly had made too much noise, and they were found. They took Milo. They almost took Molly, too. She wasn't breathing; Cat saw her chest freeze.

"It's a door," Drake whispered. He held the latch halfway up, revealing absolute darkness beneath. Being Drake, he fearlessly shoved his hand down and added, "There are stairs!" without regard to traps, spiders, snakes, or the rare arachicobra.

The front gate opened. Cat could hear the rattle of blasters against metal gloves as officers stepped in. She grabbed Molly and pulled her in with her down the stairs. She almost tumbled, but she pressed the walls and held Molly with her strength. Drake hopped down nearly on top of them and pulled the carpet as he closed the door.

Molly made a whimpering sound. Cat slammed her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. Federation soldiers above. Absolute darkness below. Maybe some snakes. Spiders. Snake-spiders. Bugs. Snake-bugs. She shivered at the thought.

Drake touched her, fumbling in the dark until he found her shoulder. His hand was warm and firm. Then he passed them and crept down the stairs. Wherever they were, it was a big space. Cat touched his shoulder and led Molly down the stairs.

"I don't know why we have to come in every time these idiots forget to lock a window," a man muttered at the top of the stairs.

They heard the beep of an intercom. "There's nobody here. Everything is here, dust and all."

Then they heard the roar of an engine and silence. They waited a few more minutes. It could be a trap.

Drake finally lit his lighter. Molly hissed. It was well known that flammable gases pooled in the basements of many buildings on Terra 4. He could have blown them up. He looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but empty boxes and a couple of broken shelves. They searched the warehouse basement for a few more minutes, but the earth was solid, the walls were solid, and the roof was cracked.

It was another bust.

Molly was the first to climb the stairs. She had regained color once the officers left, but it was clear that she had been spooked. A proper spook could end a person's career underground, and this was Molly's second close call. She folded her arms and flicker her mousy curls over her shoulder before lifting the door. Drake followed after and poked his head out. He gave a thumbs-up below. Cat hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath all of that time. She followed them up the stairs.

A metal oscillation sound came from behind the crate. She looked over her shoulder and found a snake-like drone with silicon skin over metal spine-like pieces and red eyes. Drake was on it immediately, cutting at the silicon. It resisted. Cat shot it, cursing herself for having to expend a silent bullet. The drone was unharmed.

"Ah, that won't work," said a voice.

Three more of the silicon snakes poked their heads up from behind boxes in the warehouse. They were silent like shadows. They perked at the sound of the leathery voice coming from a man with jade-colored robes and a white shawl. His skin was as pale as the silicon sheathing the drones. He held his arms behind his back, visibly unimpressed with the three. Cat shot him, but it didn't even rip the silicon.

"Stop that," Molly said.

"Run!" Drake commanded.

He threw the snake drones at the man. The man in robes grunted, visibly surprised to have his impenetrable creatures so rudely handled. Then they dashed for the window where the lights had beamed in and smashed it. Cat followed. Drake stabilized her on the slick earth, but Molly stumbled and slipped. Drake pulled her up and half-dragged her.

The horns blared in every corner - sirens alerting the world that criminals were on the run. The great thing about Sector 2 in the slums was that everything was laid out on a grid. It was easy to lose someone if you made all the right choices of narrow or wide streets, crowded alleys or construction areas, sewers or overpass. The problem with Sector 2 was that the same grid could lead a trio of fleeing criminals into the arms of the Federation at any corner.

"We should split up!" Molly huffed.

"No!" Drake grabbed her wrist. "Stay together! No one is going down!"

"Where are we going?" Cat asked. The sirens blared down by her unit that she shared with Milo. Oh, no! Milo! He was waiting for her. He was going to make dinner tonight to celebrate his week long journey to join the priesthood. He had no idea she was still in the underground. He sent her a weekly purse to get by comfortably from the church. He had been in this situation and was ruined by it.

Molly dashed into a complex. It was her home complex. Drake cursed and followed, and Cat caught the door behind them. Women and children poked their heads out of the doors to see the criminals that had triggered the sirens. A boy pointed at them and called them crooks and yelled that the police would get them. Cat lowered her head and ran faster, shoving boxes and huts in the narrow hallways aside as she ran.

They ran over and overpass and found themselves at a dead end. A group of children followed them while imitating the siren, pointing finger-guns at them. The lights beamed through the windows.

"We have you surrounded. Surrender or die," a flying drone announced.

Suddenly, a black cloth covered the drone. The lights died. They were in complete darkness as the hall lights blinked out. Cat had to cover her own mouth as the hairs on her neck stood on end. She couldn't breathe, and it wasn't because they'd been running so fast.

Then she felt something - or someone - slam her forward over the end of the overpass and into something dark. It was soft to the touch, but she had slammed into whatever it was. It whisked away sideways, whatever this thing was, and sent her rolling in darkness.

When the darkness and tumbling ended a handful of minutes later, they were sitting on the cooling bay beside the Federation rocket dock. Drake helped them sit up just in time for Molly to see Milo.

Oh no.

The worst version of Milo was quiet Milo. He wore a pleated silk white shirt and trousers that fit him perfectly, but not too snugly. He lifted his black robes off the broken drone and draped them on with all the ceremony of a king donning his crown. He fumbled with the collar for a moment. Did wearing the collar mean he was officially a priest, or was it a training collar? Oh, what did it matter? He was catching her at a terrible moment just as he was suppoed to be celebrating his big win - the first one in his whole life. He was becoming a full priest, and yet here he was saving his sister!

"Milo, hey," Drake said with all the doting love of a brother. He wore a cartoonishly wide smile.

"Drake," Milo muttered. He lifted a round from the drone's sensor. Knowing Milo, it scattered the drone's GPS on contact and had the Federation searching everywhere for them. Milo was a priest now, but before he was imprisoned, he was an incredible underground criminal.

"Hey Milo," Molly squeaked.

"Never speak to me," he said flatly. He walked past her without even meeting her eyes.

Cat watched her brother carefully. Then she exploded on him, knowing that if she didn't get every word out as fast as she could, he would end her in one calm line. "It's not what it looks like! It was safe! We had it all planned out and worked out! This was supposed to be low risk. And anyways, the Federation doesn't stand a chance in the slums. They have nothing on us except trespassing in some dirty shanty shack."

"Cat," he said. His dark eyes rested on her like an alley cat watching an unsuspecting rat from a roof - eyes half-closed, body slack, and if he had a tail, it would be swishing lazily back and forth. "We will discuss this later. The Federation is on its way."

"Where can we go?" Molly asked. Milo ignored her entirely. He didn't even blink when she spoke.

Drake looked over the laundry car and the robes in the back. "Who was that guy back there? Was that a trap?"

Milo harumphed and turned. "Well, my lot is thrown in with my sister. I will help you the best I can. Are you hurt?"

Drake lifted his arms and visually inspected. Cat almost found it funny. Then she shook her head.

Sirens sounded farther up the blocks as lights from flying drones scouted. Milo looked over his shoulder and grabbed his robes.

"The only direction they're not coming from is the launch pad," Drake said. "We have to move there."

"You do realize that the Federation has private contractor protecting the launch pad? We have a better chance with the Federation!" Molly protested. She stood closer to the street to look over the traffic. From the sober expression in her face, whatever she saw wasn't good.

"Let's go!" Drake said.

He waved his arm and indicated a side street around several dump trucks filled with beams and electronic components. Cat looked over her shoulder at Molly. She seemed to still be thinking about the Federation. Milo grabbed her wrist with the strength of a trash compactor and pulled her forward toward Drake. She heard the click of Molly's boots on the pavement behind them and was relieved.

They passed several energy cell buildings filled with the Hydrogen cells used to power the city and -more importantly- the Federation Space Station. The loud turn of generators deafened the sirens behind them. Cat looked over her shoulder and saw Molly turn from the cells for one of the complexes. She stopped to yell, but Milo grabbed her and pulled her forward. She yelled to him, but he gave her a deathly stare daring her to complain. Then she followed Drake, who had no idea they'd fallen behind and pushed forward toward the launch pad.

The Federation was a week away from deploying its newest ship, its latest in the line of Supernovae. It was a deep blue ship colored by the coat of chromium and cobalt ore used to protect it through infiinite re-entries into the atmosphere and into the most hazardous atmospheres in the galaxy. Sixteen panels were flush with the design that allowed for different weapons - eight cannons, two grapplers, and six gattling cannons. It was budded like a flower with smaller blasters for perfect balancing on planets and for its internal energy needs. In summary, it was an overpriced beauty that cost thousands of lives in the mines, trillions in non-existant tax dollars, and served its purpose of being a new toy for the oppressive policing force.

"I have an idea," Cat said once they passed the first stair well. "Let's take their favorite toy."

Milo looked over his shoulder, but Drake slammed into one of two armed guards. He kicked the man's head and rendered him useless while stealing the second man's gun. He pointed it at the man and seemed to change his mind, slamming it across his helmet so send him sprawling with his friend. Milo was in action, using the darkness of the priest robes to glide into another pair and render them both unconscious with swift punches at the base of the neck.

"They're going to get us," Cat said. "If we don't take their ship, they're going to kill us - or worse."

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Character Backstory

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• Name: Drake Flander
• Age: 29
• Planet of Origin: Terra 4 "Federation Innovation Station"
• Sexuality: Virile Heterosexual
• Social Class: Poor (beggar)
• Species: Homo sapien
• Occupation: Strongarm
• Talent: Navigating, Hand-to-hand combat, Survival, Intuition

"Never settle!"

Drake was the exception to the typical impoverished family. His father had been a middle-class teacher until he lost his job over teaching liberal topics like equallity and fairness. Drake grew up on stories of treasure, magical creatures with wings and scaly tails, of beautiful women of every color, of heroes who travel worlds and lakes and continents. He listened to bedtime stories long past the age it was appropriate, but he loved stories from his parents.

Drake dreams of leaving his tiny planet and its squalor to create his own story with beautiful women, treasure, and excitement. First he needs a space ship and a crew.

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"The mighty protect the weak."

• Name: Catana Cortabel ("Cat")
• Age: 19
• Planet of Origin: Terra 4 "Federation Innovation Station"
• Sexuality: Bisexual
• Social Class: Poor (beggar)
• Species: Homo sapien
• Occupation: Student of Underground Masters
• Talent: Handguns, Counterfeiting, Disguise, Deceit, Bargaining

Catana, Milo’s little sister, lived a life in the shadow of her brother. She was born with a powerful sense of fairness and justice that never dampened. When her dad was arrested, she defended her father through his arrest, trial, and sentence. She views the Federation as the personal bodyguards and assassins of the rich and corporations. She is loyal to a fault.

In her youth, Cat would pick fights with every bully she could find knowing Milo would finish the fight for her. She watched Milo lose a lot of fights, but sometimes he won and saved the day for those too weak to defend themselves. When Milo is arrested, Cat does everything in her power to save him. She almost is arrested trying to break into the prison and bribing anyone she thinks can help him.

Milo doesn't know that Cat convinced Father Prosper to save her brother. She knows her brother will do whatever he can to end her life of crime, but she cannot leave her friends in squalor while the powerful squish them. She chooses to continue forging documents for refugees, bribing officials to save people like her brother, and anything else she can do to make the world a better place.

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"God will never hurt me."

• Name: Emilio Cortabel ("Milo")
• Age: 25
• Planet of Origin: Terra 4 "Federation Innovation Station"
• Sexuality: Male, sexually traumatized in captivity
• Social Class: Poor (beggar)
• Species: Homo sapien
• Occupation: Fledgling priest at cusp of recognition into full priesthood
• Talent: Foraging, stealth, obfuscation, healing

Milo's Tale

Milo was the older brother. He watched their father disappear behind bars and their mother cry herself to death like a widowed love bird. He raised his sister as best he could with stolen food and by doing odd jobs around the town. Milo's morality was shaped by his sister: anything that kept her safe and happy was good, and everything else could eat dirt.

Milo ran with a usual crew that included Molly, a girl too young to hold a knife; Drake, who was ambitious enough for three folks; Dylan, who was brilliant and intuitive enough that he eventually was sponsored for university; and Jonia, who had a surgeon's hands for locks and machines. He butt heads with Dylan in every job and saved their skin when their dreams blinded them of security and thugs. His place was that of the sneak thief. Milo worked well alone in the markets, lifting purses and creating scams, but he worked just as well in the group as an antithesis to every plan.

Then they raided the warehouse for a private contractor. Milo knew he shouldn't go in: too many windows and doors, too few clean escapes, and the alley outside was closed off with construction of the new rocket platform for the Federation. But, well, Molly was his sister's friend by now, and he had to take care of the fools. He hung back and watched the alley as the others raided the desk for plans, the gun cases, and endless gold.

Milo never knew how the Federation found out, but he could smell danger. He hid inside the staircase and held his breath. Through a mold mouse hole, he watched Molly panic and pulled her inside. She moved too much. As the drones rolled along, they heard Molly squirming in the woodwork and plucked Milo out.

He never went to the Federation Prison. Rather, he was relegated to the private prison legalized by a cash-strapped city. The Raiders tortured Milo in every way. He lived in shame and squalor for a year. A year of beatings and humiliation that drove him nearly mad.

A priest visited once a month to receive confession from the prisoners. Milo earned his friendship and escaped with him. He hid in the convent while private security searched. They didn't look far; a lost prisoner was not worth searching more than three days. When he was safe, Milo didn't leave. He continued to pray and seek safety in the church. He trained to follow his friend's footsteps.

A locked door. Free food. A dry bed. And an allowance for his sister. Milo was in paradise.

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The Federation

Enforcing the Law for Everyone, Everywhere

The Federation was established in AD 2700 through the combined forces and resources of the dying earth. Their primary objectives are:

• Protect citizens from crime
• Protect property
• Investigating crimes
• Enforce the law

Each planetary sector is ruled by a Council body, and each planet has a Governor of Federation Operations. They are funded through taxes.

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Terra 4

Federation Innovation: Creating the new tools of elite law enforcement

Terra 4 was humanity's fourth attempt at creating a perfect world and failing. When urban sprawl, pollution, and violent crime rose, the wealthy left for humanity's next attempt and left the peasants behind.

The abundance of metals, including lithium and gold ore, and deep caves filled with helium and hydrogen, set Terra 4 to be a technological haven. To a point, it still is, but only the Federation and the private contractors it keeps under wing enjoy the spoils of the once-beautiful planet. Now the Federation can pump the most elite space ships out in record time without regard for the impoverished people that breathe the polluted air and drink from the tainted wells.

Terra 4 is covered in sprawling ghettos with the occasional factory in the shadow of the rocket launch pad. People tend to live in the same complexes as they work or shop. Services like mail and package delivery are privatized by mega corporations who rarely care about customer satisfaction or rules.

Officially, the political theory is democracy, but the corporations own every politician. Voter turnout is usually somewhere between 0.012% and 0.200%. Unemployment is at about 40% with the remaining 20% working in the factories and Federation force. A blackmarket exists in each major residential complex where food is traded. Some people keep chickens and insect farms in their little apartments so they can barter with neighbors. 30% of the poorest people work in the mines, which are filled with corrosive acid from tainted ground water or liquified ore as well as highly flammable gases.