Spartan Bet: The Invasion of Constant

"I don't even know WHY I'm here." the seven-year-old whined. She was just old enough to take on snooty traits. Sitting there prim and proper in spotless work clothes she watched her other siblings, bent over breaking up the earth.

"Because you are a snob, Sarah. The lunar boarding school has done you no good." Her oldest sister said, trying to hand the girl a shovel.

"Betsy is right, you are a snob." The brother said, "And the only cure for it…" he proceeded to pelt the brat with a mudpie.

"Warren!" Sarah screamed ferociously; wiping bits of the dirt from her face and braids.

The naughty brother merely laughed at the vicious scowl he received.

"Well, now that you are covered with dirt, may as well help us?" Betsy suggested, helping Sarah wipe off a bit more of the sticky grey mud.

The girl continued to scowl but obeyed. Well, obeyed by way of lobbing a beautiful handful of the slimy clay at the well-deserving Warren. He swerved to avoid the projectile, but most of it slapped him soundly on the shoulder. It was enough to appease the avenger. And he wisely didn't retaliate.

For another hour they worked. Tilling the ground and throwing the little seeds into the furrows. This wasn't any sort of working garden, the plants it would sprout where merely a decorative kind of flora. The children's father had explained it earlier, these where special seeds, ones that had been on the first ship to voyage out to the planet. They were from Terran plants, and couldn't populate naturally on such a cold planet; but they would grow and bloom during the short summer. Every year their clan made a point of planting some as sort of a living memory; reminders of both the old universe when the only life-sustaining planet known to man was Terra and the first pioneers who proved that humans could thrive elsewhere.

Constant had been one of the first colonies. Almost three hundred years ago, the first settlement was established on this icy world. It orbited its sun at the far edge of the habitable zone; the cold artic regions stretched over nearly sixty percent of the planet. The rest was harsh and mountainous, or cold salty water. It wasn't an easy place to live. All the farms had to be below the 40th parallel, at least all the ones that could produce suitable sustenance. Then they had to be sculpted out of the sides of hills; in the early days, nearly whole ranges of foothills where flattened to make enough room. The earth itself was mostly rocky and poor, with a few precious spots of invaluable clay and volcanic ash.

With all of these harsh limitations, the human population never reached more than a billion total. The largest city being Kha'ned, controlled by the Clan Valor, peaked at only a million inhabitants.

The cruel climate also served to build a tough, tribal society based on loyalty and trust. For most of the time, there was little strife between the separate clans, all hundred forty total. They were dedicated to defense and prosperity, and for the most part lived hard-working lives. Even the most flowery of clans, like the Clan Marina, kept a standing militia, and required all children to attend some sort of military camp for a time. Though most high-ranking officials had tutors and their children were taught from an early age a few details of defense and war. But these people, in a broad, general sense, didn't seek out conflict; they always prepared for it.