Outworld/Pioneers Gulch

Campfire

Authors: By My Crooked Teeth & Rosie Ratchet

Rosie closed the door to her cabin, squinting as the last rays of sun glinted off its windows. The sky was tinged purple and pink, with the dark edges of the night creeping in on the far horizon. From the highest peak she could see down into the valleys of Pioneer’s Gulch, green almost as far as the eye could see, with the odd smokestack of an enterprising family’s homestead or swinging oil rigs in the distance. Patches of brown -- dead zones from her Penumbral Soulforge -- were dotted around.

She turned, noting that she had a visitor picking his way up the steep path. Good; she felt like company around the fire this evening.

By My Crooked Teeth walked through the landscape of Pioneer’s Gulch. He was observing the sights in silence, the only sound accompanying him was the rattle of his keys as they bounced on his hip. He saw a collection of homesteaders up ahead, they were armed. Not in an aggressive manner, just enough to man a point.

“Evening.”

“Evenin’ Stranger.” The older woman with a well-worn face looked at him with a hard-eyed stare, with the young man beside her tightening his grip on his shotgun. “You lookin’ for someone or something in particular?”

She took in his outfit and her mouth tightened. “If you’re coming from the Underground Worms, you have to go to the intake centre, before you can go out into the gulch. People might get the wrong impression, with your clothes there.”

Crooked looked down at his uniform, “Oh yes. Not enough colour. I’m looking for Rosie Rachet.”

“Too Combine,” spat the young man. “We don’t keep with folks trying to hold on to Combine clothes… or ideas.”

“Ah- you looking for Miz Ratchet. She’s up on that hill, manning the guns,” said the women, putting a hand on the young man, as if to stop him. She pointed in the direction, and smiled sardonically. “I’m sure she’ll let you know where you should be going.”

“Or she’ll suck his blood, making him as pale as the rest of his clothes,” the man said, cheered by the thought.

“She can try.” Crooked smiled, and turned to the woman. “Thank you for the directions. I won’t cause any trouble for you and yours.” he nodded. He turned to the man, “I commend your enthusiasm but I have been out of the Combine long before you were a twinkle in your parent’s eye.”

The woman’s eyes widened at that but she held her tongue and merely nodded, and they moved aside on the path.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, there was a slight increase of people keeping an eye on him but that wasn’t new. Further up on the mountain, another woman’s form appeared, hat pulled down all the way, with its brim covering most of her face.

Long before she could see him, Rosie could hear the rattle of Crooked’s keys. She stopped in her search of kindling for the fire, calling out. “Good evening, Crooked. What brings you to my humble abode?”

“Evenin’ Miss Ratchet, thought I would take a walk and I remembered that you wanted to talk to me about something. So here I am. Need a hand with the firewood?” he said nodding to the bundle of sticks.

She shook her head. “I have this pile but you can continue to look for some more - I do like a well-fed fire.” She turned and gestured down a fork. “This way. That’s right - I did have some questions. I appreciate the initiative that you took to drop by, although-,” she smiled, her ghostly pale face creasing. “I’m surprised you decided to waltz right in. No trouble from my people?”

“None to worry about. I have a knack with people. It’s why I got taken in the first place.” Crooked threw out a quick smile and started to walk off to collect firewood, he picked up a couple of pieces as he went he found a half felled piece of deadwood tree. He pulled his kukri and chopped some pieces off. Once he got a good size of wood he stuck the lot under his arm and followed Rosie to wherever the fire would be.

Rosie led him to a small, cleared hollow, with a steep precipice on one side which showed another dizzying view of the territory. In the clearing, there was well-tended pit, with the remnants of burnt logs still there. Two larger logs had been pulled close along one side, and a stump of a tree carved into a small bench was opposite it. She knelt down, dropping her wood beside the pit, and swiftly started sweeping out the charcoal bits. “You been to a fire recently?” She looked up to the darkening sky. “Think it’ll be a good night for star-watching too.”

“I honestly can’t say I have. Not for a while anyway.” he dropped the bundle of wood with the rest of Rosie’s collection. He looked up at the sky and pushed up his glasses. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

“I didn’t know how much I had missed them-- been a bit busy with this whole Industrioclast business,” she said, assembling smaller twigs into a pyramid. “Plus, the Inner Assembly and by the end, Firebreak as well, has been too polluted to get a good glimpse.”

Moving her hands and two sticks in a whirling motion, she started the fire. She took a flask out of her pocket and poured some liquid on the smouldering twigs, and then took a quick swig. “I’d offer you some, but it’s not the standard whisky.” She tucked the flask away. “Oil - part of the change from the last… well, you know.” She busied herself with getting the rest of the fire going.

Crooked waved her off, “I don’t drink alcohol anyway. The last time I did I was I think eighteen. I tried some ship engine shine.” he tapped his glasses, “I ended up short sighted. Haven’t touched the stuff since.” he started laughing. “How are you adjusting to the soul forging? If I can ask? It is a situation that I haven’t had much chance to study.” he sat down on one of the logs.

Rosie grinned. “I’ve heard about the ‘shine available on Combine ships- you’re probably lucky it was only short-sightedness.” She sobered though, considering the question. “It’s strange… I’ve been around for so long, all these years blurring together, promising myself that I’d do anything to survive. I-” she hesitated. “I did a lot of desperate things during the years, things I’m not always proud of, to make sure I stayed alive. And now- I’m not really alive or dead.” She stared into the growing fire. “I think the one thing I didn’t count on was the impact on this place,” gesturing to the woodline and beyond.

“That’s the thing, a Shaper’s Territory is a reflection of the Shaper. If you fundamentally change yourself, it would make sense that this place would be affected. It’s a reason why I am not so keen on such things. But who am I to judge.” Crooked shrugged and shook his head. “We have all done things we are not proud of. After seven hundred years you are bound to pick up a few regrets.” he threw a piece of wood into the fire.

“Yes- and I didn’t have enough time to even really see the pristine nature of Pioneer’s Gulch before it changed. But needs must. And if you’re in a new surroundings, with enemies knowing you’re there-- and being told by some people, namely, your protegee, that they’re about to kill you… you’re bound to make a few rash decisions,” said Rosie.

She leaned back, shrugging. “Mmm. I remember you recounting briefly that you’ve had a while to think on those regrets. Any in particular?”

Crooked smiled, “Too many to count or recount I expect. But there is the obvious one that every Penitent has to atone for. But that goes without saying. Anyway I wouldn’t want to spoil the mood of a nice night, or bore you with an old man’s sad stories.”

“Isn’t that why you came around? To share stories though? Hardly hospitable of me to ask you to a fire, and then spend the whole time talkin’ about myself,” Rose said. She took another swig from her flask. “Let’s not stand on ceremony then, ‘old man’. I’ve never had the luxury it of yet in this life or unlife, as it now is. Let’s make a deal- you can satisfy some of your curiosity by asking questions that might be considered impolite in polite society- and I can do the same.”

She eyed him. “It would be good to hear the views of someone Combine without them threatening to shoot me or prophesying the ‘Consensus’ at me.”

“I would be seen as a terrible Combine nowadays. Of course they have changed to a point where they are very different to my day.” He brushed his trouser leg, “Alright you’re on. What do you want to know?”

Rosie nodded. “I want to know how it was in your day as a Combine member. You say you would be a terrible member these days… what’s changed.”

She took a deep breath. “And… how did you treat dissidents within your ranks? Did you have-” her mouth twisted, “-Volunteers?”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, “Starting with the big questions then. There are a couple of changes. I was like the second or third generation since the first rebellion. I knew people who were in the gulags, I knew those who were under the heel of the old masters. The dream was to be free, that we would not live in chains again. Never again. We helped people throw off their own chains, we armed those to rebel and people like me offered them a home or the means to live in their freedom. That was my job. I offered a new home, a purpose if they needed, or if they didn’t I made sure they had food and clothes and a pack to be on their way.”

He took a drink from his canteen and thought. “A lot of it is the same, and a lot of it is different. I would pass as a poor Combine mostly because I have not been a Hegemonic Engineer for centuries. I am too used to being on the outside.”

“To answer your second question, dissidents if they were no harm to the people and wanted to leave they could. Freedom was what was important. It started to change a little even in my time, if Industroclasts who meant harm to people we tried to reason with them, and if not we stopped them. I will admit that I did fight and kill Industroclasts. I didn’t take pleasure in killing. I never have. But it happened. And yes, we did have Volunteers, the thing was, they were just that Volunteers. They had no conditioning, they were supporting the Liberators. Back then everyone was a Producer, we made everything, and the Volunteers wanted to fight. The conditioning was something that came later.”

The clearing was quiet for a couple of minutes, and then there was a quiet, bitter laugh. “We will not live in chains again - to my ears, that’s not Combine, that’s Industrioclast.” She picked up a stick, poking at the fire and then looked at him. “I’ve killed too. We’re both old soldiers, no need to sugarcoat the truth of what we did.”

Rosie gazed beyond him, almost as looking into the past. “See, in my younger days, I would have sworn up and down that there’s no similarity between us and them- the Combine. But I know better. It sounds rational back then, what you did. They don’t want to be part of society- fine, get them on their way. They give you trouble with your way of life? Nothing wrong with defending yourselves- or even offensive maneuvers, if that’s what you need to do. But somewhere along those long years those seeds of change became - something a lot more twisted. Until you came to have the current form of the Combine - with it’s so-called ‘Volunteers’.”

“‘We will not live in chains’. That was the words shouted in anger in the first rebellion. The first liberation, it was written on the walls and in the hearts of those who were slaves. I make no bones about it. I have killed more people that I could ever count. I have destroyed more than my fair share. I am trying to make something better, that’s what I want. What else does a soldier fight for but to end the fighting? If you don’t mind my asking Miss Ratchet, but how long have you been fighting the Combine for? What was the final straw?”

“To end the fighting - I agree with you there. I thought I had perhaps reached that point, when I crossed over and found this land. But then I found that the shadow of the Combine had penetrated here… and as you know, a soldier doesn’t abandon their post, if the fighting isn’t done.”

Rosie sighed and looked down at her hands. “In a way, I’m a bit of relic, like you- my family’s homestead was on the frontier of Combine land and the Walkers- Firebreak is the closest name, I suppose these days. We just wanted to be left alone. When the Combine ships first came, we were happy to trade with them. But then came the call for the ‘greater good’ and my father and mother- it wasn’t in their nature to submit. Papa was taken away for education - Ma was able to find a bit of rope in her cell before they were able to take her away. I was 14 - spent a few years in a factory, producing arms before I managed to slip away. Must have been… a couple hundred years? I lost count. I spent a few years in other places too- Opportunity didn’t care if you had money to burn, no questions asked where it came from. I spent a few years there- but in the end, I had to come back. Couldn’t ignore it. Most of my fellow Industrioclasts are different- they’ve grown up in it. To be fair, I think they’re often the braver ones. I just wanted to go back to my childhood. To be left alone to make my way - but those days were gone. So I fought.”

She blinked. “Lots of soliloquizing on my part. You say you want to make something better - what does better mean to you, Shaper?”

“The Sublime Concord wanted to make a perfect world. A Utopia. But they elected to abandon everyone. They realised that the world was broken and decided that it was not worth saving. I realised that there is no such thing as perfection, but to make a world that has learned from their mistakes. I want a world where people can choose the life they lead. That as long as they are not hurting or harming the society as a whole, you can choose. To encourage people to learn everything without restriction and decide for themselves. There is something in every culture that can be salvaged and nurtured and grown into something new.” He shook his head, “It sounds silly I am sure. But I have to try to make something better whatever that is. To make sure that the horrors of Homeworld are not repeated, that the rhetoric and mistakes are learned from and never repeated. If that makes sense?”

“It does to me. Choice is the most important aspect- that’s what I want here, to have a place where people are free to choose. To learn what they want, to pursue their own ends without others directing their lives - and to respect the same for all,” Rosie said. “You and I are - I think we are not unalike in our views. Tell me- I know you’re ex-Combine and all that. But do you not think that having them here risks the same horrors re-appearing in this new World?”

“I think all the cultures have to change, but I think all of them have aspects that can be salvaged that can be taken and made into something better. There is still some wonderful things in the Combine, the same way there is for the Valtarian’s and the Opportunists and the Walkers. Even the Order needs to change. We will not have any shapers, that will change things. This world deserves a new start. Even if I can leave behind knowledge that is something. We cannot watch over the culture forever, the original intent of this worlds creators will be eventually forgotten or ignored but you can leave them with the best chance to make a go of it without us.” Crooked looked into the fire with a sad look on his face for a moment like he was lost in thought. “I don’t know how this will end but at least if we can end this without dissonance there is a chance. They get a choice.”

“Wise words, although perhaps strangely optimistic coming from someone of your background.” Rosie played with her flask top, unscrewing it and pausing before taking another drink. She spat into the fire, and it flared from the engine oil, the shadows dancing and lighting up her face. “I too think there is a chance… although, I don’t think I’ll live to see it. But if I can guarantee that no child of this new World has to face the same fate that I had, it will be worthwhile.”

She shook her head. “This has taken a maudlin turn, Crooked. I don’t like to wallow - I prefer action. Or distraction.”

“I do not have any hope left for myself. But I do have faith. It has to work or everything I have done was for nothing. So I can be a little optimistic. Dawn is working on giving me hope again. No idea why she would be so keen for it.” He smiled, “I am sorry, most of my life is more shadow than light, I did not mean to be a poor guest. What distraction or action would you prefer?”

“No apologies necessarily- I was the one who started us down this path. Dawn is one of the more promising signs - as are all who rebel against the Combine indoctrination,” she grinned. “Or are pushed out. And although I understand it in terms of pure survival, I’m not so sure that she didn’t try to distract both the Combine and myself last Nexus opening by spreading whispers of imminent assassinations.”

Rosie shifted herself closer to the fire. “But I may have to get over that fact - for if I have learned nothing else, it’s that life as an Industrioclast brings strange bedfellows or fellow compatriots in a similar cause.” She gave him a level look. “Perhaps that’s one that we could pursue, next Nexus-opening.”

“But in the meantime- distractions? You’ve come to a campfire and I’ve been a poor host. We should tell tall tales of our epic adventures,” she said, giving him an opportunity to leave that last query unanswered.

He chuckled, “I am sure I can think of some sort of story. Did I ever tell you the story of the first time I saw the Opportunity Metropolis?”

“Nope- and I imagine it wasn’t as the typical tourist?,” she answered, smiling and leaning back against the wood log, tilting her hat back over her face, and settling in for the tale.

“Well first of all I had no money, no home, no prospects. All I had is my harmonica and a blanket. I had to survive in a world where money was a significant part of the culture. It was a profound lesson. Of course I got arrested on my first night for busking without a license…”

Crooked continued his tale as the fire crackled and the stars shone overhead as the two shapers recounted the stories of years long gone in a world long since gone.