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(14 February 3049)
The thrum of a happy, productive hive pulses through the soles of my bootie-shod shoes. The constant motion of workers; the hum of massive machinery; the guttural howl of engines testing: an all-pervasive sense of obligation and duty from machine to man washes my senses with pride. Even though I am only a few steps inside Wakazashi Enterprises’ satellite facility on Schuyler, I smile despite formality.
Like a Beauchene Skull, entry into the plant’s showroom brings into view an exquisite monument to man’s technology: a Sai aerospace fighter disarticulated with the care of a medical cadaver. Hoisted at a 90-degree angle, every piece of the craft is held in place by tens of thousands of clear monofilaments to create a fully realized 3D exploded view of the pride of the Draconis Combine Admiralty.
“Wakazashi Enterprises has fully embraced the return of Star League technology,” our guide states firmly, hands lifting towards the art-like piece above him as though in reverence. “As you can see, the S-4 mounts state-of-the-art armor, extended range large lasers and wing-mounted medium pulse lasers. The S-4 is also the first mass-produced fighter to mount an extra-light engine.” As he speaks with authority (perhaps even flair), his hands wave, directing our sight to the various components suspended meters above our heads.
As other reporters’ voices join the dialogue, my feet pull me towards a massive wall of glass separating the showroom from the factory proper. Nose almost pressed against glass, I peer into the depths of the cavernous hangar; though impossible, my olfactory senses bring up canned memories of scorched steel, acerbic fuels, the tang of cleaning agents.
My mind churns over the knowledge that the facility comprises some two hundred and fifty thousand square meters, but its sheer size balks at any such analytical description. The hangar is so large, the curvature of Schulyer hides the floor on the far side, while my sharp eyes lose details in a shadowed haze of distance.
An army of some four thousand workers crawls through the titanic room; shepherds to their flocks of budding aerospace fighters that will eventually span the depths of space across hundreds of border worlds to protect the Combine.
A worker in drab-colored overalls is suspended upside down, arms snaking behind latticed support work, fine-tuning an engine assembly. He pauses, wiping sweat from his brow, and our eyes meet. I carefully step backwards and bow. His eyes widen before a grin splits his face and he does his best at an inverted small bow in return. Our eyes exchange smiles as he returns to his duty.
The warriors of the Pillar of Steel are to be lauded for their bravery and dedication. But all too often, the humble worker is forgotten. Without their weapons, our warriors would stand naked.
To all those who labor in your own way to protect our beloved Dragon, I salute you.
—Shintaro Maku, Combine Press
