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How We Got Along After The Bomb
"Just look at it. ********' waste." Beneath a layer of whirring engines either side of the craft, a uniformed co pilot offered an empty opinion, gazing across the patchwork skyline that decorated the southern most shores of Helvir, buildings in all manner of decay, many having fallen into one another, forming hunched crumbling masses. Having been abandoned for just over two hundred years and with no efforts planned to reconstruct the former cities they sat in their quickening entropy as a stark reminder to those whose ancestor's had lived there, almost serving as a memorial site to their former ambitions of grandeur.
"Can't have nothin', them, without turning it to shite." Unsurprisingly the pilot seemed to agree, a common opinion among those of a less diluted Helvirian bloodline. Given that what was formerly Lyra lay in debris before them it was easy to scoff and mock, even easier that the original foundations of the cities of Helvir still stood strong to this day, sporting obnoxious architecture which taunted the skies.
So far the ship had been travelling for several hours and the trio aboard were approaching the mid point of their journey. Behind the pilot and co pilot, separated by a reinforced partition, was the single security agent aboard, a heavily armoured and well trained thug who was to remain in the rear of the transport with the valuable cargo. The storage was usually to the brim of the planet's ore and appropriately guarded to boot, but the small crate called for a skeleton staff and those chosen were happy to do the light run.
Their destination was a small mining outpost located just inside the northern shoreline, it had called for aid after realising they had forgotten to recalculate their fuel reserves after an accidental explosion the month prior. Compounded mistakes such as these were thankfully rare and only seemed to appear in outposts and locations in which nepotism was the driving force of its employment process. If it weren't for the scarcity of these errors and the status of those who made them it wouldn't be so promptly tolerated, even those affected appeared to feel indifferent when cleaning up the mess of some kid who happened to have a great uncle somewhere deep in the bosom of the Helvirian government.


From where Frances was standing the crumbling spires of the broken beaches were more daunting than pathetic as they flanked him from each side, varying in height and

dr bloodmoney
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dr bloodmoney
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