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Moths of planet Náttúruka - they bear resemblance to known insectoid species discovered on other planets. However, the resemblance is only surface deep. Unlike common insects, they have a bipedal frame and a lifespan far longer than their counterparts. They have eyes capable of registering full
spectrum of color and vocal cords which make them capable of speech. Unlike known lepidoptera, they are capable of ingesting solid foods. Like most species on this planet, their exoskeletons are formed from modified tissue allowing for reaching larger sizes. They possess hands with opposable thumbs that allow for object manipulation. Their brain to body mass ratio is higher than that of most known insects, allowing for intelligent thought.
Studies suggest they are edible.
~ Notes from the exobiology pamphlet, public database of the Moja Empire
…
Meat is not sustainable in space travel
All beings who travel through the vast void of space need to make sacrifices. That includes the need for specific ways of life, diet included. Space travellers often resort to whatever they can cultivate in an artificial environment. Dehydrated and dried foods are a staple meal for those spending years on space stations and ships. With the advent of biotechnology, a wide variety of foods began being produced in harsh conditions. Variety was important, but efficiency was valued above all else. Meat in space was and is a luxury.
Which was not great news to carnivores like the Moja. They were not true obligate carnivores; their highly efficient digestive ingesting many things, including plant matter. However, they could only sustain their bodies with meat.. A Moja deprived of it would suffer ill health and pass away. Not only was meat a necessity, they required large quantities of food on the daily. Substitutes were not fulfilling their needs. With growing numbers, search for sustenance consumed their lives.
They were capable of eating the vast majority of alien life forms. Which was fortunate for the Moja themselves, unfortunate for the local fauna of whatever planet unlucky enough to find itself in their sights. However, hunting couldn’t sustain everyone.
In the present day, food sciences and cultivation are fields held in high regard by the Moja.The best and brightest minds of the Empire are hard at work, always racing against the clock to solve their greatest challenge. And places they dwell in are shrouded in mystery, dens of opulence and terror, glory and infamy.
…
The farm creature had quite the odd shape. It vaguely resembled an animal the students were familiar with but it looked uncanny and difficult to identify.
It possessed many appendages , which functions the students were trying to determine to no avail. The creature possessed six naked limbs spread across its body without any seeming symmetry or order. The malformed limbs resembled atrophied wings or unnaturally short front legs. Its skin was stretched out, the creature could slowly move around but struggled to hold its own weight. It didn't make many sounds nor respond to all but the most intense stimuli. A few of the students swore they heard heavy, labored breathing coming from the creature.
This day the agricultural biology students were taken to the deep reaches of the biotechnology lab. These labs were accessible only to a select few. Senior year students were allowed entrance to the underground section under supervision as the researchers and teachers slowly unveiled the secrets of the facility. This particular lab was not located on the Moja homeworld, as it was a land too contaminated for fragile new life forms to blossom. The dark essence seeped from every pore of the planet, it was entrenched in every nook and cranny of that land. The Agriculture Department had to take their studies elsewhere, to a land yet uncorrupted by the darkness. They chose a lush, uncorrupted planet known as Verdalia. They built a sprawling city, dozens of farms, labs and greenhouses, as well as a prestigious university. was the heart of innovation. And the latest fruit of their labor was a strange, misshapen creature placed in front of the student group.
- Everything we do requires sacrifices. - Professor Vipsania spoke
She was not only a scholar, but also a cut-throat ideolog, who always wanted the students to be well aware of the purpose of their work. She gestured towards the caged oddity.
The creature attempted to stand up on its more functional hind legs. It made a quiet gargling sound, took a few steps forward and returned to resting on the ground. It did not appear aware of all its body parts, moving them with a slight delay. But it could just be an illusion caused by the creature’s unwieldy anatomy.
- This is specimen ER-287. - Professor Vipsania continued - We increased the growth of both its fatty and muscular tissue. However, that lowered the specimen's mobility and cardiovascular health. It is capable of producing a lot of meat, but it is more fragile. The end result is not an ideal life form. However, that’s what’s needed to feed distant colonies.
- Is it in pain? - Amiria, a pudgy Moja with piggy tails asked
- Its nervous system is stunted.
It was the first time this group of students was allowed down there and wouldn’t be their last. Over the course of their senior year, they will become well acquainted with all the oddities down there. During the initial tour, some students looked unnerved, some looked giddy and excited to be here. Finally, at least a few looked hungry.
…
Several students gathered in the cafeteria. The room was dimly lit and not very crowded. A few loners in the corner, a dozen or so Advanced Agricultural Biology students gathered here after their lab tour. It was before the usual lunch hour.
Some of the students pulled out their portable devices. The university database was supposed to be updated with the most recent grades soon.
- I’m not checking right now. - one of the students shrugged. - I’m gonna check at home and see if I should drink to celebrate or drink away my sorrows.
Some of the students ordered food. One was slurping noodles in the corner and a group discussed something over tea. A few of the students were impatient and wanted to know what grade they got, as soon as possible. Amiria database page. Her eyes shone and her twin piggy tails bounced with excitement when she saw a new message popped up.
- Hey, I got eighty five percent in the molecular engineering course! - she exclaimed
- You look like a molecule already, you just need to look into the mirror to pass that. - someone commented Amiria scowled at the detractor. Her piggy tails appeared to bounce with anger.
At this moment the other students started receiving their results. Some said what they got, some kept it to themselves, some refused to check at all. They were cheering at various victories and lamenting their losses. Most passed the fifty percent threshold. However the percentage itself mattered. Those with the highest scores were more likely to find high profile mentors and later on find jobs in prestigious positions.
A short Mojallah, the same one making snarky comments before, frowned while looking at the screen. She clenched her fists, her whole body was tense. Only her tail was swinging around, as if unaware of the tension the rest of the body was in. One of her colleagues, a lanky Moja named Kavian, stepped closer and asked:
- So what have you got?
- Fifty three in organic chemistry - the Mojallah frowned - That course was dumb. We are not chemists and the teacher expects us to dump everything and study organic bonds.
- I mean, you passed. Barely, but you did. Maybe your other results are better. - someone reassured her
The Mojallah gave them a nasty look which caused Kavian to blurt out:
- Crap, Rhonda, chill out a bit. Maybe your other grades are better.
Rhonda tapped her screen and exclaimed:
- Ninety eight in Agricultural Administration. - she grinned - Always knew I had a knack for this. Management of resources requires a balance of smarts and memory.
- Whatever you tell yourself, miss-good-with-numbers.
- Strong words from someone who counts on his fingers. - she scoffed, causing Kavian to shrug and walk away
Rhonda checked all the available scores. Not all classes got graded yet. She definitely needed to step up her game in a few of them if she didn't want to be left in the dust. She packed her stuff and headed to the next class.
Rhonda has been asked a couple times why she pursued a career in the Agriculture Department instead of a job in governance or administration. It was the result of a couple different factors. She was not accepted into her first school of choice and her interest in biology caused her teachers to suggest a career in the Agriculture Department. She didn’t see many other options as her frail stature made military as a career path near impossible. Besides that, a job in the Agriculture Department seemed like a more hands-on way to hold power than traditional governance. Something fascinated her about the idea of bending organisms to her will on a level deeper than just telling them what to do.
…
- Proponents of hunting downplay the importance of our department. - Professor Vipsania spoke - However, that’s a position only taken by those lacking proper education on the subject.
Professors at the University of Verdalia were split into two distinct groups. The first one just focused on the practical aspect of their work. They rarely talked about the role of the Agriculture Department in the wider Moja society, they just focused on making sure all the processes ran correctly. They cared about making the
plants grow and about making the livestock breed, not on what their job meant for the larger Moja population.
The second group put a lot of weight on the politics influencing and influenced by food production. It was not difficult to tell the groups apart.
- Of course, wild caught prey is the highest quality food. - Professor Vipsania continued - But allowing every single citizen to hunt is logistically impossible. Billions live in colonies no longer capable of sustaining large native fauna populations. Hunting is reserved for soldiers and settlers. But every person needs to eat.
She pulled the covering off a glass cabinet standing on a desk. What sat in it resembled a bulbous tree made entirely out of meat. Its outer layer resembled skin and was in the hue of faded orange. It appeared to be breathing.
- This is a gorjan flesh tree. It’s a simple organism that can regenerate having chunks cut out and requires minimal space to thrive. It can be fed compost and plant pulp.
The so-called tree was visually unappealing. One of the students spoke out:
- This thing looks gross.
- Hey, if they put it in canteen meatballs you wouldn’t even notice. - Kavian added
Professor Vipsania eyed the talkative student and said:
- It doesn’t look appetizing, but it has a rapid growth cycle and low nutrient requirements. They can be grown on small spaceships and provide meat-adjacent sustenance to space travelers. Taking chunks from this tree allows for absorbing vital life energy which makes it a breakthrough in long-distance travel.
Some students were taking notes, some were whispering amongst each other whether they would or would not eat a bulb from the flesh tree.
- It smells like crap. - Kavian quipped
- It just smells like the soup canteen served yesterday. - someone whispered
Rhonda thought that she did not want to end up in a job that would require her to try eating it.
…
The next day was filled with labs and lectures up to the late afternoon hour. Students waited to cross the final stretch before the mentorship program would start and each one of them would begin practical work overseen by some of the Empire’s brightest minds. Or just slightly above average minds, if you did not make a good impression on the heavy hitter. But for the time being, classes continued as usual.
Professor Merata was not focused on the ideological role of the department. She gave off the feeling of a mad scientist, passionate and a bit loopy, reeled back in by her more level-headed colleagues. She had that spark in her that made students resonate with her. Her way of speaking was enthusiastic and energetic, as if she never lost her childlike wonder.
Students were tasked with measuring the nutritious values of a mysterious green sludge which was dispensed by an odd, half biological and half mechanical construct the size of a small fridge. Hum of machinery and the gurgle of gastric processes intertwined into a strange, off-key melody.
Whilst the process was not appetizing, the smell was better than they expected.
- The process doesn’t look appealing to most. - professor Merata sounded excited - But the end result is a good way to turn inorganic matter into nutrients. The end result is like a green smoothie. Just don’t drink it yet, you need to study samples.
Students gathered samples from various pipes poking out of the device. They were preparing lab equipment for the various tests they were going to perform. This device was mostly used in manufacturing livestock feed but recently a modified, more palatable version of the cocktail has begun being given to non-Moja workers in distant worlds.
- We got reminded of how external stimuli impact appetite. - professor Merata said - Smell, taste and texture are the obvious culprits, but color cannot be glossed over. Satisfaction with the nutrition cocktail grew by a lot once we modified the color not to be brown anymore.
Rhonda clenched her jaw and glanced at the green goop. Student nearest to her snorted and said:
- You’ve been here for quite a while and you’re still getting grossed out?
Rhonda turned her head and did not respond. She liked working in the department; from a distance. She did not fancy the mundane tasks, especially ones where she came in direct contact with odd viscous fluids. Unlike some, at least this one had an acceptable smell.
…
The mass of flesh was pulsating. Whatever the creature used to be was unclear. Lumps of mass hung from its frame like weighted bags. It was not mere fat, muscle and other tissues were packed into the engorged bulbs.
- Everything we do requires sacrifices. And weighting of risks.
Some of the students looked unnerved. Some were seemingly getting used to the weirdness of the lower labs. The senior year students kept regularly returning to the secure underground facility. The researchers guided them along and let them perform certain tasks. They were becoming a part of the grim machine of the Agriculture Department. They were becoming more familiar with the horrors awaiting below, even if they were still kept at a distance. This time again, Professor Vipsania was showing them the latest achievements of bioengineering.
- This organism cannot reproduce naturally. - she spoke - It is prone to cancerous cell growth and needs a special apparatus to maintain its respiratory function. However, it is one of our fastest growing specimens. It is not suitable for consumption, but we believe it to be a stepping stone in our studies.
Next they moved into a chamber housing rows and rows of boxes containing little amphibian-like creatures. They had the body of a fat tadpole or maybe a salamander, thin stubs that resembled atrophied legs and no eyes.
- These are all clones of Prototype 287B. - the teacher spoke like an ominous tour guide - They can stay alive while hibernating for up to two years. They only require a moist environment and minimal nutrition. They are resilient against disease, pollution and radiation.
Every single Moja, starting from the age in which they developed their first teeth, needed to consume living organisms. Meat made up the majority of their day to day diet, but every couple of days at minimum, each and every one Moja needed to eat an organism which was still alive to absorb its life energy. That was the bare minimum; larger Moja subtypes required more and to fully thrive, a singular Moja needed to consume living organisms in much greater numbers. The exact criteria an organism needed to meet were a subject of discussion amongst the brightest minds in the galaxy. The general consensus was that for a Moja to absorb life energy properly, the organism consumed needed to be an animal or equivalent. The efficiency of life energy absorption grew somewhat proportionately with the
organisms complexity, size and intelligence. The exact details and formulas remained a mystery. Staff of the Agriculture Department often joked that whoever solved it would probably get a position in the High Command on the spot.
Those portable hibernating tadpole-like creatures could sustain the needs of Mojas who had no access to living prey. Consuming them was not as glorious or satisfying as hunting for your own food. It did not beat the feeling of sinking one’s teeth into
something caught wild, the rush one felt spilling fresh blood of a wild beast. But it was a solution for those stuck on barren, lifeless planets and space stations.
There were always sacrifices.
…
The next long-term task awaiting the students was a practical test of everything they have learnt so far. They were preparing to take the spots of current leaders in the
fields of bioengineering and genetic manipulation. But for now, each student was given a box of miniature eggs.
Each box contained a slightly different variant of eggs laid by a tiny white worm-resembling lice. Rhonda tapped her fingers on the table, as the lab assistant approached each student with their assigned box. Each one of them contained a small habitat for this simple organism. Rhonda had to stop herself from standing up and clawing away her own box from the hands of the slow-moving lab assistant.
After minutes which felt like hours, the box was finally placed in front of her. She gave it a look. It was transparent, waterproof and sealed tight. Filled with liquid that looked like something between amniotic fluid and transparent jello. A quiet murmur could be heard as the students compared what they got. Some stayed silent, trying to read the labels on boxes written in tiny print, some were exchanging information with their colleagues. Each student received a different sample, a different box of primitive organisms. Rhonda ignored her fellow students, she was focused on solving the mystery of those weird, goopy eggs.
This project will decide half of their grade in the bioengineering class. According to rumors, some of the high profile mentors especially valued bioengineering. It was the pride of their university after all. Rhonda was by no means top of their class but she knew this was the time where she needed to focus and beat the others. Those noticed by renowned researchers and officials had a higher chance of getting foot in the door of more prestigious workplaces. Rhonda knew she was aiming high, she did not want to end up working in a stingy lab in the middle of nowhere for the rest of her life.
But for the time being, what stood between Rhonda and glory, was a box of wet lice eggs.
Her task was to improve the egg output. Students had access to the university labs which were stocked well enough for the task. Meddling with the flesh and rewriting laws of life was not that out of the picture for the Moja. They had reached a stage where bioengineering and gene manipulation were subjects taught in universities. Of course no student was given access to top secret research and top of the line equipment. However, as the University of Verdalia was prestigious and overseen by the head of the Agriculture Department, even the students could have a glimpse of the secrets of the top imperial scientists. Rhonda fantasied about the possibilities of modifying bigger organisms, about shaping life to their will. A being beyond predator and prey, capable of claiming nature for themselves, above the trial-and-error of evolutionary processes. But for now she had to deal with worms.
After incubating these eggs would hatch into white invertebrates resembling a cross between a mealworm and a waterbear. They had fat, white abdomens and tiny legs. The variant Rhonda was handed was aquatic. They lived and died within days, spending their whole life not knowing the world beyond a shallow pool of thick, watery substance. This whole family of organisms had fast gestation rates which made them perfect for selective breeding and all sorts of lab experiments. They were relatively simple organisms and very responsive to all sorts of bioengineered changes. They had not much utility besides that, but it was enough to make them the ultimate lab animal.
Modifying the reproductive capability of an organism was something quite common in the Agriculture Department. Whether by introducing growth hormones, stimulating their reproductive cycles or simply changing their living conditions. Artificial insemination would be inconvenient with organisms this numerous and tiny, fortunately it wouldn't be needed here. Besides that, Rhonda understood her task was to make the worm-lice increase egg output on their own, not to fake the results by putting more eggs inside them.
Rhonda was observing the life cycle of the worms. They were simple organisms, not bothered by much. They lived their short lives dwelling at the bottom of their containment, their nervous system incapable of comprehending more than the base instincts to scavenge and reproduce. Each one possessed rudimentary male and female sexual organs, usually reproduced by cross-breeding and fertilizing eggs carried by both worms. The eggs incubated as the parent worm died before the next generation hatched. In the wild, their eggs would be an easy target for any predator, but in the lab environment nothing was threatening their incubation. Except for a potential water filtration system malfunction. That could always happen and Rhonda made sure there was always a backup.
The upcoming weeks were consumed by taking care of the worm-lice, modifying their habitat, inserting various substances into the habitat, selectively breeding the desired traits and documenting the outcomes. Each day after lectures she went to the labs. Rhonda did not want to share her work with the other students, but she did participate in conversations about the project. They were like aquarium pets, except far less fancy nor as pretty. Kavian told the other students a tale about how their worm-lice split into two hostile sub-species. The two clans were locked in an all-consuming turf war for territory as the organisms best adapted for combat passed on their traits. Kavian was describing these worm conflicts as if they were epic tales of warring kingdoms. Rhonda scoffed, thinking Kavian should’ve rather pursued a career in writing than biology. Although even she couldn’t deny how the tales of the worm war were far more interesting than the life in her peaceful and wet box.
Weeks have passed as Rhonda worked tirelessly to speed up the reproductive rates of the wet lice. Poking and prodding, tweaking and twirling, unraveling the spool of the spiraling genome. Speeding up their metabolism was less difficult than she expected. That made her cautious, as she suspected a trap later on in the process. Not one laid by the professors or malicious students, (although Rhonda never fully phased out that idea), just an inevitable hurdle laid down by the limitations of nature. Everything that lived was locked into playing catch-up to its own weaknesses. Creatures that bred fast lived short lives. Bigger beings needed more food to sustain their own bodies. Some called it a dance of evolution, to Rhonda it had as much to do with a dance as knocking cups from a counter had.
The wet lice started laying more eggs, but the more eggs they laid, the slower their gestation became. It was counter-intuitive but it seemed that an organism capable of popping out more eggs needed more time to grow. After a while Rhonda realized both values equalized. The wet worm-lice were laying more eggs, but took more time to hatch from them. She was back where she started.
Scanning the inside of those eggs revealed something interesting. The lice inside of the new eggs were fully formed for days before hatching, yet they took time to actually emerge from their eggs. There were multiple of them, seemingly fully grown and mature organisms within the same egg. Rhonda’s first course of action was to try to force them out to hatch early. The results of that were catastrophic. The early hatched worms died within minutes of being exposed to the outside world. Rhonda studied the corpses of the old and new variant to find the difference. Why some of them needed additional days inside their eggs to emerge, despite appearing fully formed.
The culprit appeared to be the outer membrane. A layer so thin she missed it when scanning the eggs. Speeding up the growth process caused the outer membrane to develop after everything else. For a few days, the worm-lice would appear and function as mature organisms, but be unable to leave the safe environment of their eggs. When exposed to the outside world before the membranes finished developing, even in a controlled habitat, they would shrivel up and die.
Forcing them out early was out of the picture, not without starting the whole process over. Rhonda tried to make them develop membranes faster. This only caused the first new batch of lice to possess over-grown outer membranes that prevented them from excreting waste. They did not live long.
Rhonda considered starting over as she still had some of the original, unmodified lice left. She decided against it, as it would put her weeks behind other students, who she believed already were far ahead of her.
She observed the lice through a microscope. They appeared to move inside their eggs. Ready to breed, yet unable to exit their shells. She flickered through the pages of her notebook searching for anything that could’ve been done a different way.
The worm-lice appeared to be fully mobile inside their eggs, responding to stimuli and interacting with each other in their own primitive ways. Every marker showed their readiness to emerge and procreate, except their damned fragile skin. Or lack thereof.
After a few more experiments, Rhonda realized she can stimulate the behavior of still unhatched lice. She could modify their behavior, causing them to be more or less active than usual, prompting them to move around or even fight. Perhaps there was something else she could do.
Per her command, the lice began to mate whilst still inside the eggs. They were breeding before they could come into contact with the outside world. Stimulated with outside signals and pumped with extra nutrition, they were laying eggs inside of eggs.
The cycle continued, creating a godless spiral of inbreeding where wet worm-lice were creating entire families before being born themselves, procreating with their own siblings, only for their offspring to do the same. Eggs inside eggs inside eggs inside eggs, until the breaking point, as long as the original engorged shell could fit more products of this debauched life spiral.
It produced the highest amount of eggs out of the whole class.
…
Rhonda’s experiment was a success. The unorthodox solution made even some of the professors uncomfortable, but since she exceeded her goal and technically didn’t break any rules, her grade was high. However, her project will likely cause a few rule changes in the university’s future.
Rhonda was worried that knowing the details of her project would turn away potential mentors from picking her. However, she was chosen by one of the top people in the Agriculture Department. Turns out a little bit of inbreeding is not even in the top ten of weirdest things happening down in the trenches.
Her mentor was an older Mojallah named Rozenia. She spoke in the manner of a dreamy poet or a melancholic grandparent. She was tall and slender, usually smiling, fond of big hats, flowy skirts and raincoats. She did not appear threatening, or even aware of what was going on around her. Despite that, she had a reputation for being innovative and cutthroat. Rhonda believed the rumors, as nobody with their head in the clouds climbs this far on the imperial ladder.
Rozenia was one of the deputies of the Head of Agriculture. Rhonda wasn’t exactly sure why she was the right candidate in her eyes. Maybe her management skills were finally getting noticed. Or maybe her worm project results gave off the exact weird aura this cuckoolander of a woman liked. Rhonda was certain it had to be something other than just her grades that got her noticed.
The final year of university was mostly spent doing internships, lab assignments and working on a thesis. The amount of work was overwhelming for Rhonda but she liked the more practical tasks outnumbering the less interesting lectures. She spent her days in labs and in greenhouses. Her tasks ranged in scale, one day she was practicing advanced gene manipulation, the other day she was testing feed for newly imported pig-like animals. A refined researcher, an administrator and a farm worker. She was not so fond of all her tasks, however she finally felt like she was becoming a part of the Agriculture Department.
…
The orchards were a soothing place. Greenery surrounded them from all sides. But it was not wild, untamed and chaotic, the plants existed in harmony. It was not stiff and controlled either, the plants were uneven, some larger, some smaller. Vines and branches were climbing on top of the metal bars as if they were racing to see which one of them could touch the sun itself. Gentle rays of sun shone through the cracks between the lush greenery. Some sections were occupied by rows of fruit bearing trees and bushes.
Rhonda’s mentor took her into her private orchard. Rozenia had a habit of taking her proteges to many places, some obvious, some less explicitly related to the job.
This time she was showing Rhonda her lush private orchards and gardens and telling stories about all the fruit contained there. She spoke of symbolism and history of various plants and their significance in cultures past and present. Rhonda was not a person who paid a lot of attention to symbolism. What was the use in knowing a plant symbolized a good marriage and the stench of some long forgotten deity if it didn’t help feeding people. However, she found her mentor’s tales captivating.
- One of my protégés will inherit those gardens. It might be you. What do you think about them? - Rozenia asked
- They are not the most efficient as a way to produce food.- Rhonda said.
- Exotic fruits are a luxury good. But luxury goods being available means the times are good and that people have more to live for. It’s a sign we can rise above our needs.
- It does match the Agriculture Department and their philosophy. - Rhonda nodded - To be a step ahead of the demands. This place is not as efficient as a factory farm, but it is much nicer than one. It’s… Pretty.
They walked from garden to garden in this peaceful miniature universe of greenery and colorful, ripe fruit. Some of the plants were familiar and common, some were alien and foreign, taken here from far away planets. Despite studying agricultural biology, Rhonda could not name some of them. Some plants in here have been growing for longer than she has been alive. Some strands were older than all of the Moja. This made her slightly uncomfortable, a reminder that the universe was too large for one person to know and understand.
- Your job is all about modification. - Rhonda said - But these fruits appear so… Natural and imperfect.
- See, we feed billions. - Rozenia answered - And this requires sacrifices. But in my personal gardens I can preserve these imperfections.
- So we remember where we came from?
- Mostly for my personal enjoyment.
They entered a closed off section of the massive orchard. The greenery was overwhelming, only interrupted by colorful fruit which rested against the stems, hung from branches and peaked from behind leaves. It was almost ready for harvest.
A yellow pouch-shaped fruit caught Rhonda’s attention. It looked like a bag filled with marbles.
- I have never seen this one. - she pointed towards the strange plant.
- It’s an Agate Starfruit. Named after the shape of the leaves. New import, not widely available yet. The locals believe it can drive away evil spirits from the sky. It appears they needed different solutions for demons that came from the ground.
- And what is that? - Rhonda asked and pointed towards a dark red round fruit.
- That is a pomegranate.
Rhonda was prancing around the gardens like a curious critter wanting to absorb the knowledge about these never-seen-before riches. One section of the garden was dedicated entirely to grapevines. Rhonda looked around. The dark green vines climbed all the way up the metal railings. Sun rays were shining
between the leaves. Heavy purple bunches hung from the lush vines. This place looked well kept.
Natural but not out of control. It felt peaceful.
- The best quality wine is made from these. - Rozenia said - But they taste good on their own.
- Our department works to provide the necessities. And we are in a race against time. - Rhonda said - Can we afford luxuries? Recreational substances?
- People cannot thrive on bare minimum. - her mentor said - A society that only gives the bare minimum will eventually crumble.
- But people who experience wealth for long forget about the hard work that comes into providing it.
- Comfort also makes people reliant on it. Reliant on those who can provide it. Besides that, our power is frail if we can only provide scraps. Starved nations don’t conquer stars. We are children of the High Moja who feed us, we must never forget it when we do our part.
Rozenia paused for a bit, looked around the lush garden and continued:
- See all of those creeping vines and the bunches of juicy grapes hanging from them? They are a symbol of abundance and a good harvest. Things we should strive for. We must set our sights on goals.
…
The patio was one of many small pockets of nature on the university campus. The overgrown bushes cast shadows over the patio, distant chirping could be heard as local fauna was unbothered by the presence of the Moja. The greenery was lush and in a state of controlled chaos. It was a microcosm of Verdalia’s ecosystem; lush, resilient and encroaching into any corner of unoccupied space it could. The patio was too wild for Rhonda's personal taste, but it was a nice place to get away from other students.
Rhonda was checking her notes, before she got interrupted by a sudden tussle in the greenery. An odd creature jumped out from the bushes. A red toad the size of a rabbit looked at Rhonda with its wide-spread empty eyes. She had no idea how this wrinkly creature entered the university grounds. She tried to shoo it away and was promptly ignored by the rotund creature. The toad-like creature blinked unamused. Rhonda clenched her teeth, picked up her bag and chose to return inside rather than continue her study with unwanted company.
Students were gathered in the cafeteria. Humid air and warm temperatures would be a nuisance to a lot of species, but the Moja found them comforting. A group gathered around a table with their drinks and snacks. Rhonda noticed her colleagues, Amiria, Kavian and a few others. They discussed various news and rumors about the university. One of the students brought up the rumor that Laversa, the current Head of the Agriculture Department might be retiring soon.
- Good riddance. - one of the student commented
- Hey, I’m gonna miss the old lady. - Kavian added.
- So, do you think she’s actually retiring? - Amiria asked
Rhonda passively observed the conversation for a while. She decided to add her own insight:
- The deputies are trying to undermine the Head. - she added - But nobody wants to take the heat for being the one who pushed her out. So they’ve reached an impasse.
- Shouldn’t you be working in administration, Rhonda?
She did not answer. Administration was where she initially applied. At first she was not content with her place in the Agriculture Department. But as time went on she learned to appreciate this branch of the imperial apparatus and all the possibilities that came with it.
- I’ve come to like this place. - she said
It was not untrue.
A new student came to the table. A stocky Oja dressed in blue. Rhonda did not recognize them.
- Have you heard the news yet? - they asked, not expecting a reply - A visit from the very top is coming.
- Top? Head of Agriculture coming for an inspection or what?
- No, the Supreme General himself will be there during the graduation ceremony.
The other students were left speechless.
- For real? - Amiria asked, breaking the silence - I’ve never seen him before. In person, I mean.
- Seen him a couple times, from afar. - the new student said
- Ah, forgot you grew up in the Homeworld.
She went quiet for a moment before adding:
- I will probably shit myself when I see him in person.
Rhonda’s shock gave way to excitement. Her eyes widened. The University of Verdalia was quite prestigious, but a visit from the ruler of the entire Empire was a rare event. Rhonda knew she was just one face in the crowd, one of many students graduating that year. But she held onto hope she could be noticed, she held onto the desire to stand out from the crowd. She decided to join the conversation:
- Maybe it means a turn of the tide. See, our department is often overlooked.
- Well, our job is important, but we are not the army. -Amiria was taken
aback
- We are making the Empire run. But we are not acknowledged in the way the soldiers are. Not in the way the engineers and administrators and other self-important assholes are. - The new student seemed to agree with Rhonda
- We are not the imperial poster boys, I’ll give you that. - Rhonda continued - But that does not mean we lack control. We make things run and we decide where our forces go. After all, food is the main reason we conquer. Soldiers like to hunt, but they cannot survive without us making sure the masses are not starving. Maybe the leader visiting is an acknowledgement.
The cafeteria exploded with speculation as the students were talking over each other:
- Seems like at least our leader appreciates our work.
- It’s about time.
- He is wise after all.
…
The University of Verdalia was located in a tropical highland near the planet’s equator. Warm weather was nearly a constant. The skies were covered by heavy clouds that drew water from nearby rivers and swamps, only to return them back in the form of a heavy downpour. Then the skies would clear, revealing the glistening sun, until the weather cycle would repeat again. The water cycled through the raging rivers, sun-baked meadows, lush rainforests and sprawling mangroves.
The rich biosphere of this planet made it a perfect hub for agricultural studies. There were some farmlands further up north, in a more temperate climate and some colonial cities scattered around but the population density remained low. There were no native sapient species, so the Moja only needed to contest for territory with bizarre, not very edible even by their standards, colorful frogs. The complexes of labs, greenhouses, gardens and schools sprawled for kilometers on end. It was the central hub of the Agriculture Department, a resilient virgin wilderness that made for the perfect playground.
Graduation was just behind the corner. The rumor of the Supreme General himself visiting during the ceremony was confirmed. People were speculating that he had other business to do on Verdalia, but that remained unclear. Their university was prestigious, but in the vast Empire, there were many facilities like
theirs. Some speculated there was commotion amongst the higher ups of the Agriculture Department and their leader was here to oversee some changes. More Mojas were unhappy with the performance of the current Head of Agriculture.
The graduation day finally came. Students, professors, researchers, staff and guests, everyone gathered in a massive hall. This year's ceremony had much more fanfare than usual.
The crowd went silent at the arrival of the Supreme General. He stepped on stage. He was not the biggest nor the most intimidating one of them. Yet every Moja knew who he was. It ran deeper than just an aura of authority, each one of them felt a connection to him. Their bond was almost familiar in nature. Their leader was respected and revered on a level that was deeply intertwined with the Moja physiology itself.
To Rhonda, he felt distant, unattainable, above the common folk. She was standing in the front row, with the other graduates. For a split second, their eyes crossed. Rhonda knew she was just a nobody, but deep down she had hope that he would acknowledge her. It was just a passing glance, she didn't know what it meant. Indifference? Interest? She felt there was something in this glance. Or was it her own imagination? She could not accept such an option. She had to make sure it was not the only time they saw each other face to face. She could barely focus on the speeches, the rest of the ceremony felt like a dream.
The crowds were only an obstacle.
Rhonda spent all night thinking about that look.
She would do whatever it takes to get him to look upon her with pride.
…
A terrifying beast has been terrorizing a far, far away town. It had rough fur, six legs and massive teeth. It snatched unsuspecting inhabitants and feasted on their flesh. Roads became empty and the people did not know peace ever since the beast came. The nation sent their best warriors to slay the beast. Unfortunately, they all fell to the might of the beast. The people prayed for a miracle, for help from a higher force. Even worse, the beast was not the only one who craved their flesh.
Help arrived. A force unlike anything they’ve ever seen descended from the skies. The beast fell, scorched by heavenly flames. Mere bones and ash remaining.
A mysterious voice spoke. The beast slayer claimed to be a force sent by the divine realms. In exchange for protection, they demanded monthly sacrifices from the local people. People of their choosing, health being the only requirement. They would be taken away from the city. The locals were hesitant but started offering the heavenly force convicts sentenced to death and those the powers that be wanted to disappear.
It was not the most efficient method but it opened new doors.
- The numbers are indeed below our usual quotas - Rhonda spoke to her higher ups - But I concur the experiment was a success. We were successful in soliciting livestock before, but this experiment showed us that sapient organisms can turn themselves in with minimal interference. The labor required is lower than in any other
method, which should be taken into consideration. She wanted to add „These primitive fucks are not that difficult to use.” But that would be inappropriate for this meeting.
The opinions of the higher ups were divided. Social engineering was one of the many tools used by the Moja to achieve control over alien civilizations. Pretending to be a deity was the oldest trick in the book, but the larger-scale involvement of the Agriculture Department in such a process was novel.The Moja had a strong hunting culture, when it came to conquering new species, prey caught in the wild were of highest value. Despite that, Rhonda’s inquiry into further study of the project was accepted.
The culture of the Agriculture Department and the Moja Empire as a whole was shifting overtime. The more the Empire expanded, the more sophisticated ways to feed everyone were needed. Even the military elites couldn’t deny it. Swarming a planet to devour whatever lived on it was accessible to a waning fraction of the population.
Rhonda rode the wave at first, later becoming a frontrunner of the inevitable shift. Over the course of her career, she experienced some spectacular wins and losses that put her on the radar of the High Command. She was steadily climbing through the ranks, consumed by a pursuit of power that never truly gave her what she wanted.
…
The room was brightly lit, illuminated by a massive, curved glass wall overlooking the jagged rocks and salty puddles of the ocean in low tide. Two beautiful Mojas stood by the table. They were both wearing white and gold, their skin was smooth, resembling a bronze statue. They looked similar, clearly they were siblings, hatched from the same clutch. They were discussing something in a heated but friendly passion.
- Oh, hi there Rhondy. - one of them raised their arm in a greeting gesture - We’ve been discussing how to best manage the agra-planets.
Another venture. A whole planet dedicated to food production. A local population engaged, outside pollution minimized.
Rhonda scoffed at the nickname. She found it excessive to dedicate a whole planet to a singular purpose, but she respected the scope of this operation.
- So we would barely come there. It’s better to oversee everything, but it sucks when we pollute by breathing alone. - the other sibling commented
The siblings' names were Theo and Veo. Rhonda never remembered which one was which.
- I think just enslaving the local intelligent species will be best for us. - Theo, or maybe Veo explained their reasoning
- No, you just get a thousand saboteurs and rebels that way. Yeah you can suppress those, but it's a pain in the ass for management. - the second sibling countered - We cut a deal with them, we just pay them in some space junk, so they believe this job was their idea in the first place.
- Yeah, no way that would ever backfire. - the other one rolled their eyes - Soon they’re gonna start demanding unions.
- We can offer protection in exchange for labor. - Rhonda interrupted - From a real or an imaginary threat. We can always back one local power to back that will fuck up the other guys and make them farm potatoes.
- Shouldn’t we be minimizing warfare? - the sibling in favor of peace countered - Our weapons will pollute the place further. Too good soil to waste like that.
That was the strange duality of the Agriculture Department. They could be talking about warfare and enslavement and then swerve into the topic of crop viability within the same conversation. It was an unusual balance of powers that Rhonda learned to appreciate.
- This can be achieved with minimal violence. - Rhonda hated admitting to being wrong about something, but there was always a way to spin things around. You don’t have to admit to changing your mind if you present the idea as having been yours all along - We show up, we say what we want, offer a reward that’s small potatoes to us, but a big deal for mud dwellers. Add an implied threat and you’ve got them wrapped around your finger.
- Do you plan to mimic local deities again?
- No, I need a break from that bullshit.
…
The noises coming from the compartment were difficult to identify. They were neither wails nor giggles, neither cries nor hums. Something alive was within this containment and it was displaying behavior which seemed to imperfectly mimic other living beings.
Rhonda and a couple other Mojas approached the farm containment. The lab team was led by Afila was a lanky and tall Moja, an experienced researcher who still kept her youthful spark. Inside there was a group of juvenile specimens of one of the many conquered species. They were not far from biological adulthood yet their mental capacity remained stunted. They were crawling on the ground akin to toddlers.
- We enhanced the growth hormone dosages. - Afila spoke - But that didn’t help intellectual stimulation.
- Intelligent creatures are difficult to farm. - Rhonda sighed. - It’s been a problem for decades. Low reproduction rates, slow gestation and a complex development process.
Rhonda was getting used to her new position as the deputy of the Head of Agriculture. A few of her latest projects were successes, a couple were failures. The ratio was positive enough to propel her career forwards. She relished the newly gained power, however, some days working at the Agriculture Department felt like an exercise in futility. More was needed, whether it be more livestock, more facilities, more new and innovative techniques. Whenever a problem appeared, a new one popped up on the horizon.
Intelligent species were the most valued by the Moja and farming them was notoriously difficult.
- We let them roam free in the enclosure, as it stimulates better results than cage-farming. - Afila added - But their brains are still underdeveloped. Worse than we anticipated.
Rhonda sighed again. Of course. She took a deep breath and said:\
- This will be good to feed a few rich assholes.
- It will satisfy the quotas…
- It will be the bare minimum. Even if we cut their time of development in half, it will be a cut from twenty to ten years.
It was not why they were here. If Rhonda were to keep her position, the results needed to be better than the bare minimum.
They walked across the hall. It was spacious, chilly and poorly lit, the hum of machinery was ever present. Water dripping and rumbling in the pipes could be heard every couple seconds. They approached a hangar filled with vertical glass tubes, tall enough to fit a person inside.
The being inside the tube was pale and slender. It had two arms and two legs, both unnaturally thin and lengthy. Its skin was smooth and delicate but moist, like that of a baby who never left the womb or a hatchling who never broke the shell of its egg. The creature was suspended in thick, semi-transparent liquid. It appeared to
be in the state of a deep sleep, or maybe its brain never developed the ability to form complex thoughts and perceive the world outside of its enclosure. Tubes pierced its limbs and torso, delivering nutrients and measuring its vitals. In the wild this species was known as an Ambrion, a species of elusive, beautiful beings living in villages deep in marshlands and mountain ranges. They were highly valued by the Imperial elite. Rhonda tried its meat once or twice, she found it too gooey for her taste.
It was an imperfect method of farming but allowed for a nearly perfectly controlled environment. Without intervention, the most desired of species took too long to develop.
- We need to apply our methods to faster growing intelligent species. - Rhonda said. - Maybe their brains won’t be as pristine, but it’s better than waiting until the next fucking generation to get the job done.
- Should we discard this sample? - Afilia asked
- No, it's still a fine piece of meat. The current method is inefficient, but good enough to be an option for elites living far away from lush planets.
- Raising this specimen took more power and nutrients than its ever going to provide - Afilia countered
- It will get the ball rolling and more projects will get approved. It's the reason we decided to farm Ambrions, their meat is loved by every powerful asshole. Then we can get the resources to do what actually matters.
Rhonda was not content with the slow process, however she believed showing any results will get attention of higher ups. And attention was a valuable currency.
Whoever fed the people held the power. Some might turn their heads and not look her way. But they were reliant on her work, no matter if they were afraid to look in her direction.
…
~ Present day ~
Rhonda was speaking to her comms device. Speaking might be an understatement, words coming out of her mouth resembled something between a disgruntled growl and annoyed bark.
- What do you mean they lost the stock? - she said through clenched teeth - It is not their first day here!
She stood up, clenching her fists, ready to punch or tear something within her reach.
- They know the fucking rules. - she continued - Once you kill something, you process carcasses instantly. No waiting overnight, doesn’t matter it’s fucking refrigerated! You keep it alive or cut it into pieces!
She put her face in her palms, ready to scream at the manager on the other side of the call.
This planet had unique rules. Most planets had. They were usually annoyances of various degrees. This one was not the most severe, but it was personal.
The mysterious centipedes were a known phenomenon. Taking life energy from bodies of the deceased, sending it back into the ground. The problem was, they melted a significant portion of the meat. Also they were capable of melting concrete. Probably made for easy corpse disposal for the locals but was an inconvenience when it came to ranching. Fortunately, the centipedes appeared to prefer staying out of sight. If a carcass was processed fast enough, the centipedes appeared to leave it alone.
- What do you mean they didn’t know it applies to crickets? - Rhonda shouted into her device - It applies to every fucking animal on the planet. They probably come to get energy back from sea worms that shit through their mouths.
She took a deep breath. It was nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Unfortunately the centipedes melted the floor of the facility, including a bunch of pipes and wires.
- Costs of repairs will be paid from their bonus. They fucked it up, they gotta fix it. - she droned and hung up the call
Deities were something the Empire has dealt with before, but usually they were outside of her field of interest. Whether it be lightning bearers empowered by faith or omens of war, they were for others to deal with. However this time, the local deity was of her concern and she did not enjoy contesting for resources with a bunch of cursed invertebrates.
When the sacred tree gets located, it will be her job to repurpose it into something useful. She wished she could go to another planet. There were so many untamed fertile lands waiting for her intervention. However, the Supreme General himself ordered her to stay stationed on Náttúruka.
You do not say no to it. Despite her feelings about this place, she understood the significance of their mission. It was the once-in-a-lifetime chance to stand on the forefront of a discovery. She was there to bring upon an era, where no one would go hungry ever again.