Transform

Chapter 2: Michael

Loading rocks and minerals of sorts into containment ships was no easy task. Especially when they had to be strapped down to steel floors with half-ton cables. But this work was the work that had to be done.

It was menial tasks like these that binded the Union together. If people were to stop doing these trivial jobs, the Union would fall apart. Without them, society could not continue.

This is what Michael thinks of when  of doing his job. This was often because Michael was frequently was sick of doing his job.

He climbed up the driving seat of his ship. There was nothing else for him to do with his life. He had failed school, and had been rejected from every other job in the union. For that, he was lucky to have this job.

Yet he hated it.

He hated coming to work everyday. Hated endlessly loading minerals onto ships. Hated driving them to locations, and doing the same thing over again.

He hated nothing changing. Nothing Changing ever.

He took off of the desert planet below and into the endless black void that is the cosmos. Hh looked into space, and imagined what it would be like to be rich. If he had money, fame and power would be well obtainable. Money was what bought life in these times.

And money corrupts. With the income of money people soon realize they like money. A lot. And when this happens, people try to get more and more money. This spirals out of control to the point where the rich will murder for money. They are willing to end another’s life in an attempt to fulfill their insatiable need for money.

Insatiable means that it will never be satisfied.

But some people are able to control their mind so that money is not their one whole goal.

Some people like President Branson. The man who devoted his life to bring order and justice to the world. Any fool could tell that he did not care about money of power. He cared about the people.

Michael looked at his hands that were not driving the ship.

He quickly grabbed the yoke and maneuvered away from an asteroid coming right at him.

That was too close.

When he was able to slow the ship down from it’s 5lph (lightyear-per-hour)  speed, he let out a deep sigh. How did he let go of the yoke. He never let his attention leave the piloting of his ship. That was weird.

After four hours of smooth sailing, Michael arrived at the Star Station he was delivering the materials to. It rested on a gray moon near a mountain range. The star in this system was not visible for much of the year, so the entire sky was dark. There was however, a giant red planet in which the moon orbited visible.

Something was off about the station though. There were about five dozen unfamiliar ships parked outside. They were all factory ships from Union 1, and they were all being loaded up with tons and tons of raw ores from the mining colonies.

“What the..” Michael said under his breath.

As he slowed the ship all the way down to 10mph, he landed it at a pad with the ship’s serial number on it: JL-22

Michael POV:

When the ship had stopped and the engine was off, Il quickly got out of my ship.  

I didn’t even bother to close the door as I walked toward the station. I approached the doors, opened them, and walked in. Sitting around a dimly lit table, were several men that I did not know, and one he did. Mr. Haralson. Mr. Haralson was the owner of this mining corporation, he was also one of the richest people in the Union, and a member of the senate.