Pluto16

Log I, Session I. History of the Tar Wars.

Log I, Session I.
Date: February the Eighteenth, 2067, 10:15 Plutonian Lunar Time.
Subject: History of the Tar Wars.
Logger: ASEoS, in_logged.

I don't know if you have noticed, but the strangest things become valuable. Old cars. Creepy paintings. Dead, dried-up bodies. So it was no surprise, to me anyways, when the Tar became valuable.

At first the Tar was only used for pouring on the heads of your enemies. Then they set it on fire and laughed. And then it was used for burning down enemy fortresses when it they painted the Tar onto boulders and set it on fire. It was used for roads centuries after that. And finally, we made it to space. And we used the Tar as a weapon because it moved well through space.

Eventually, humans abandoned Earth and went to other planets. We burned the Tar as fuel for our rockets. We hardened it into bullets and bombs. We shot it into space in amorphous blobs which we later lit on fire just for fun.

As we developed the technology that allowed people to go into space for indefinite amounts of time, with only a 25% death rate, the Society of Humane Protection decided it was inhumane for people venturing into space to get stuck in the Tar. They died when that happened by the way. So the SHP decided we could either stopping using the Tar or make it taste good, so that way if you got stuck in it you would at least die in deliciousness.

Guess what we decided to do.

We made the Tar taste good.

We collected all the Nasty Tar, as the previous generation of the stuff came to be known, and burned it in the Great Conflagration.

So now, instead of giant blobs of sticky black tar that tasted like burned rubber flying through space, there were giant blobs of all colors that tasted like, most commonly, cinnamon and sugar flying through space.

Cinnamon and sugar.

Because somehow, dying in cinnamon and sugar tar was better than dying in normal tar.

I mean, don't get me wrong, it tastes great. And now most exo-rocket deaths were because people wanted to eat the tar and they thought they could do it without getting stuck. And then when they did get stuck, they just shrugged and kept eating. And the exo-rocket death rate had climbed to 57%. But, honestly, flavored tar is stupid as hell.

I mean, they didn't even have blue raspberry flavored tar. It apparently tasted too good to be produced.

Oh yeah, by the way, drugs these days were all blue raspberry based. They had found a way to make a legit blue raspberry. It was insanely addictive and literally thousands of people went bankrupt buying the azure fruit. It also had special juice that made people go a bit cuckoo, if you know what I mean.

So yeah. I live in the age of the Tar Wars. The Soviet Space Union was currently fighting the Dis-United Space-States of America and the Germanic Union of Space was currently blasting the United Places of Korea into the Canadian ship Maple Hell. It was completely beneficial war to everyone. Bet you heard the sarcasm in that. It had a motto, which was posted literally everywhere. Every open inch of metal was covered with promotional war posters stating the following: Hey war really sucks, ya know. But at least if you go to war now you can die in deliciousness.

That was what we had come to. Promoting war because you could die in deliciousness now. As opposed to dying in terror and pain like you had to in "brutish", terrestrial wars that had occured before we left for space. They didn't tell you that if you went to war you would still die in terror, if not necessarily pain.

I will have you know that I am not an active citizen if any of these ridiculous space nations. I had come to space through my own power as a thirteen year old. I built my own rocket and made it to space a solid year before anyone else did. But no one remembers that they were beaten to space by a thirteen year old from the good old US of A, although now it was the D-USSA. I didn't much care though. I had my own satisfaction in the knowledge that I was first. Well, first to make it past the moon anyways. There were others in space before me.

Anyways I was the sole citizen of my very own, very selective in membership, space nation. I called it the Totally Awesome Selectively Emotionally Rigid Barrage of Absolutely Negative Grapeshot Elephant Routines. Or the TASER-BANGER for short. I honestly wasn't sure how I came up with that and I was completely aware of the fact that it didn't make much sense, but I liked the phrase TASER-BANGER, and I also just made that up because that was a joke.

My nation was actually called Alpha Olympus. I was the only citizen which also made me the president, although I prefered being called the All-Seeing Eye of Sauron, or ASEoS, which implied that I could see everything that happened in my nation. And I actually could by the way, I had cameras everywhere.

I was like sixteen now, according to the virtual assistant I had made at twelve. Her name was Nimis, which meant too or excessively in latin. Like she is too crazy. I thought it sounded cool, so I used it. She was sentient. She was as alive as I was. I hadn't told anyone that I had made a sentient AI, and I planned to keep it that way.

Nimis kept track of time, things I needed to do, places I needed to go, and the status of my company. It was called Omega Olympus and we were a major BR manufacturer. BR was the short label for blue raspberry by the way. Mine were not considered drugs because they didn't make people go cuckoo when they ate them. I had selectively bred the BRs until they no longer produced the crazy juice, which was the part that made it a drug. They were still crazy addictive though. My BRs were usually used for medicine, although they were occasionally bought by ice cream or candy manufacturers.

I will admit, I am actually the one who "made" the first BR. Well, less like made, more like found. They grow wild on Pluto and I had a humongous farm there. Pluto was mine. I owned it. No one was allowed on my planet without my permission. They got zapped by my personal brand of Tar, flavored with sour cherries if they tried to land. Flavored Tar was still stupid as hell, but it was fun to use. I often had to stop myself from eating the stuff.

So yeah. I suppose I should describe myself so you know who you are thinking of. I am 5'11". I have icy white-blue hair and eyes that look like they are literally made of ice. I am a somewhat lonely sixteen year old girl who has only talked to an AI for the past three years. I am one of the Obsessi, so named by the infamous Taima Rai. I got obsessed by the cold as a young child and can therefore control anything related to the cold, like ice and frost and snow and the temperature, although I could only control cold temperatures and I decided anything above 41°F was hot. Even though it never gets above -30°F on Pluto, and even that is really rare, it doesn't bug me, as I am also quite resistant to cold. Almost immune really. -5,749°F was where I began to feel the cold. I make living things out of frost which is super fun by the way. I live on Pluto, sole citizen of Alpha Olympus, sole owner of Omega Olympus, formerly and presently known as Aseos, pronounced Ace-oss. I will be here for a while.

I haven't used my ship, the Mordor, for at least a year. People who want my product come to Pluto, lock into orbit, and wait. I shoot the shipment up with my delivery cannons and they shoot the payment down with their deilvery cannons. Painless. No human contact. All good.

Until he came. I will explain who the him is in tomorrow's log.

Log I, Session I, End.
Date: February the Eighteeth, 2067, 11:01, Plutonian Lunar Time.
Subject: Tar Wars History.
Logger: ASEoS, out_logged.

-_________________________________________-

Hey guys! Hope you like the new story! I plan to update this story every day I can, minus weekends unless I get super bored. See ya back here tomorrow! Love ya! 0)