#5: Barracks

Our barracks form a city of its own, regimented to the very last inch of its length. Clocks run on time, and the trains tick along; barbers use cutthroats and recycling is mandatory. The air, I’m told, is the cleanest in the fleet — though the residents of Zaļā Yowusta claim otherwise. No privilege is too rich for our soldiers, and they repay that kindness with sacrifice. Enlist, and you guarantee comfort; or so the posters say. In truth, they should read, “Enlist, and you guarantee your death”. Every year, a class of graduates joins the crew of a Pawn; a light munitions model that we craft from braids of smog. If their Pawn can weather the storm of deep reconnaissance, attack and debris, t...View all