Adrift
Chapter 1. Lone
The lone sailor sat on the deck of his small boat, staring up at the vast expanse of sky above him. The blue stretched out endlessly in all directions, broken only by the occasional white wisp of a cloud. He felt small and insignificant in the face of such grandeur, and his mind was filled with a sense of emptiness. He had been at sea for days, with only limited provisions to sustain him, and he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake in setting out on this journey. What was the point of it all, he wondered? Where was he headed, and what was the goal he hoped to achieve? As he sat there lost in thought, he felt himself on the verge of giving up on everything.
Later, the lone sailor's gaze drifted to the horizon, and he noticed a commotion in the distance. Squinting his eyes, he could make out the silhouette of a massive cruise ship leading a fleet of ships, all moving at full speed. He watched as the ship and its crew worked together in perfect harmony, each member busy and energized with their tasks. The sailor couldn't help but let out a small sigh as he compared his own situation to theirs. He was alone on his small boat, with limited resources and no one to rely on but himself. It was a stark contrast to the bustling activity he saw before him, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy for the crew of the cruise ship.
As he watched the cruise ship disappear over the horizon, the lone sailor's thoughts turned inward. He remembered a time when he had been a part of a big crew, just like the one he had seen. He had everything that people envied about: money, prestige, and status. But that life had come with a price. He had learned that he was being forced to participate in a grand scheme of unethical things, and he could not stand by and watch it happen. In an act of bravery, he had fought his own crew and committed a mutiny. Since then, he had never become a part of any big ship again, instead wandering aimlessly by using his own small boat. "At least I can define my own direction by choosing this path," he muttered to himself, a faint smile crossing his face as he remembered the freedom he had gained by leaving his old life behind.
As the lone sailor continued to ponder his situation, his thoughts turned from the past to the present. While he had gained his freedom by leaving his old life behind, he had also left behind the security and stability that came with it. The harsh reality of his current situation began to sink in. How would he provide for himself without the resources of a big crew? And where should he direct his meager boat with no clear destination in mind? The questions swirled around in his mind, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty and doubt creeping in.
He knew that the path he had chosen was not an easy one, but he had believed in it nonetheless.
Chapter 2. The Message
The salty sea air whipped across the face of the lone sailor as he navigated his small boat through the choppy waters. He had been at sea for what felt like an eternity, with nothing but the lulling sound of the waves to keep him company. But as he gazed out towards the horizon, he saw something that made his heart skip a beat - a fleet of caravel was approaching him, their sails billowing in the wind.
As the caravel drew closer, the lone sailor could see that one of the ships was headed straight towards him. He tensed up, unsure of what to expect. But then, a figure stepped off the caravel and onto his boat. It was a commander, his uniform crisp and immaculate, his bearing straight-backed and proud. He saluted the lone sailor, and then handed him a sealed envelope.
The lone sailor's heart raced as he opened the envelope and read the message inside. It was a task from a faraway big nation, one that was of great importance and urgency. He knew that he had been chosen for this task because of his expertise and his bravery. But he also knew that it would be a difficult journey, one that would test his limits and push him to the brink.
As the commander departed his boat and returned to the caravel, the lone sailor felt a mix of emotions wash over him. He was excited to embark on this new adventure, but he was also scared. He knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with danger, and that he might never return. But he also knew that he had a duty to this country and to the people he loved.
With a heavy heart, the lone sailor set sail towards his destination, the wind in his sails and the salt on his lips. He knew that he would face many challenges along the way, but he was determined to see the task through to the end. For he was a sailor, a warrior of the sea, and he would never back down from a challenge.
Chapter 3. Xenophobia
July 8, 713 AL.
The lone sailor was speeding up his boat, feeling the wind in his hair and the salt spray on his face. It was a beautiful day out on the water, but his mind was elsewhere. He had just received a message from Samuel, a member of the Security team, and he knew it was important. He slowly opened the message, wondering what it could be about.
"Hi all, This is Samuel from the Security team and I hope my message finds you well. There is an ongoing emergency meeting, held in A88 atoll, on a proposed policy governing the use of imported manufactured technology."
As he read on, his heart began to race. This was serious. He felt a lump form in his throat as he realized that something was happening that he had no control over. He was just a lone sailor, out on the open water, but he knew that whatever was going on, it was big.
"The proposed third-party resources policy aims at making our landscape a bit safer by encouraging best practices around external resources. After an initial non-public conversation with a small number of high ranking military and government official, we’ve launched a much larger, public consultation to get a wider pool of feedback for improving the policy proposal."
He felt a sense of dread wash over him. What could this mean for him and his fellow sailors? Would they be impacted by this new policy? He felt a knot form in his stomach as he read on, desperate for more information.
"Based on the ideas received so far, the proposed policy now includes some of the risks related to technology loading third-party resources, best practices for developers, and exemptions requirements such as blueprint transparency and inspectability. As technical contributors, your feedback is welcome until July 17, 713 AL. Best regards, Samuel Samantha, Chief Inspector of Technology Compliance"
He couldn't believe what he was reading. This was so much bigger than he had imagined. He knew that he had to act fast if he wanted to make a difference, but he didn't know where to start.
As the lone sailor sped up his boat, he felt his heart racing with a mixture of fear and anger. The message from Samuel had left him shaken, but it was the implications of the proposed policy that really had him worked up.
He knew that the higher-ups had always been suspicious of imported technology, but he couldn't understand why. As far as he was concerned, technology was technology, regardless of where it came from. What mattered was whether it was safe and effective.
"The higher-ups should really lower their suspicion against imported technology," he muttered to himself, his anger building. "Take a look at last month's incident! So many lives were wasted just because of their own xenophobia. The blood is on their hands."
He had lost friends in that incident, and it still haunted him. He couldn't bear the thought of something like that happening again, just because of narrow-mindedness and fear.
Taking a deep breath, he focused on the task at hand. He knew that he had to act fast if he wanted to make a difference. With a determination in his heart, he set out to make a difference, to fight for what he believed in. He knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure that his voice was heard.
As he raced towards the shore, his mind was already buzzing with ideas for how he could make a difference. He knew that he had a lot of work ahead of him, but he was ready to do whatever it took to make sure that the proposed policy was fair and just for everyone involved.
Chapter 4. Battle Of Mid
June 3, 713 AL
It was another serene morning on the picturesque Mid Island. The golden sun peeked through the azure sky, its warm rays gently caressing the verdant canopy of the rainforest and the rustic thatched roofs of the small village houses.
Life on the island flowed unhurriedly as usual. The fishermen set out to sea on their modest boats, families gathered to share hearty breakfasts and laughter rang merrily amongst playing children. An atmosphere of peace and contentment permeated the island.
Little did the 736 islanders know that their tranquil lives were about to be shattered irreparably.
Without warning, a formidable fleet of battleships loomed over the horizon, menacingly encircling the small island. A sense of dread descended upon the villagers as they stared in stunned silence. What wrong could they have possibly committed to warrant this ominous visit? They had always been a simple seafaring folk, living off the bounty of the sea and minding their own business.
A commanding figure strode out of the lead battleship onto the rickety wooden jetty. It was the tyrannical Colonel Strohm, infamous for his ruthless oppression of dissent.
“Why? Why have you come?” The village elder’s voice quavered in dismay as he confronted the colonel.
The colonel’s lips curled in a cruel sneer. “We have discovered that the fuel used for your fishing ships poses unacceptable risks of explosion and toxicity. We are here to confiscate all of it. Immediately.”
“But that fuel is the lifeline of our village!” The elder protested. “Are you certain your analysis is correct? Do you have an alternative to offer?”
A child burst into uncontrollable sobs as the adults looked on helplessly, their anger and frustration simmering beneath the surface. A hot-headed teenager hurled a stone at the smirking colonel, the violent act shattering the fragile calm.
“Silence!” The colonel barked as a cautionary shot rang out. “This is an order!”
At that fateful moment, the tenuous restraints on the villagers’ emotions broke and chaos descended upon the scene. The military responded brutally, bombarding the defenseless island without mercy as the villagers scrambled in panic...
The peaceful fishing village on this small island awoke to the sounds of helicopters and gunfire one morning. A military brigade landed on the beaches and began advancing into the village, shooting anyone who emerged from the houses. The villagers were caught completely by surprise and panic ensued as people scrambled to get their families to safety.
The brigade commander announced through a loudspeaker that this village was harboring terrorists and that they were there to wipe them out. The villagers protested that they were simple fishermen, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. The soldiers began ransacking houses, dragging people out and executing them on the spot. The villagers started fighting back with whatever they could grab - kitchen knives, tools, and even their bare hands.
The battle raged for days as the villagers tried ambushing the soldiers from the dense jungle surrounding the village. The military responded by burning down parts of the jungle and several houses. Many villagers were now fleeing into the hills, but some stayed behind to fight for their homes. An uneasy stalemate prevailed as the military controlled the village but were frequently attacked, unable to completely wipe out the resistance.
In the third week of fighting, the military received reinforcements and swept through the jungle, driving remaining villagers back closer to the beach. Many fishermen took their boats out to sea to avoid capture, but some boats were shot at and sunk. The villagers started running out of food, weapons and places to hide. All seemed lost as the military prepared for a final push to secure their control of the island.
At that fateful day, the morning sun glinted off the bayonets of the advancing military brigade as they marched into the fishing village. The villagers peered out from their huts in fear, knowing they were outmatched. The brigade commander barked orders to surround the village. In a matter of minutes, all exits were blocked.
A villager panicked and threw a stone at a soldier. The stone struck the soldier on his helmet with a loud clang. Enraged, the soldiers charged into the village with their bayonets thrust forward. Chaos erupted as soldiers ransacked huts and attacked anyone in their way. Villagers grabbed whatever tools and weapons they could - harpoons, knives, clubs - and fought back in a frenzy of violence.
A small group of villagers grabbed their fishing boat oars and makeshift spears and rushed at a cluster of soldiers. The soldiers fired their rifles in response, the shots ringing out and echoing across the bay. Some villagers were hit by bullets and collapsed to the ground, staining the sand with blood. But the remaining villagers continued their charge and engaged the soldiers in hand-to-hand combat, oar against bayonet.
More soldiers poured into the village, overwhelming the villagers through brute force and numbers. But the villagers refused to give up, defending their land and homes to the last breath. An elderly villager lit the fuse to the village’s whaling explosive, kamikaze-style, and threw himself at a group of soldiers, detonating in a massive blast that shook the entire village.
By the time dusk fell, the village was in ruins. Smoke rose from the charred remains of huts. The sandy paths were littered with debris and the dead from both sides. But a grim silence hung in the air - the silence of a village that had fought to its bitter, defiant end. The military brigade had won control, but at a heavy cost they would not forget.
In a last desperate gamble, some villagers stole a few military radios and sent out distress calls to nearby fishing communities, begging for help. Their calls were heard, and a makeshift naval force of fishing boats laden with volunteers sailed to the island under cover of darkness. They launched a surprise attack on the military in the village, catching them completely off guard.
The fighting was fierce but the military was outnumbered and overwhelmed. By dawn, the remaining soldiers had surrendered or retreated to their helicopters and left the island. Against all odds, the small fishing community had defeated a formidable military force through sheer determination and resilience in defending their homes and way of life. They had paid a heavy price, but their island remained free. But the war isn't over just yet.
It was a bleak and desolate region, ravaged by a conflict that had spread like wildfire. The battle had been raging for four long and grueling weeks, with no end in sight. The skies were dark with smoke and ash, and the earth trembled with the thunder of explosions.
But the worst part of it all was the deafening silence that hung over the world. The government had strictly suppressed the press, so the majority of people didn't know what was happening. They were left in the dark, only able to guess at the horrors that were unfolding around them.
All they knew was that the world's supply of a scandalous kind of fuel was dwindling, and they didn't know why. They didn't know that the conflict they were living in was over control of this precious resource, a resource that had driven this region to the brink of destruction.
In the midst of this chaos, there were those who fought bravely on both sides of the conflict. Men and women who had been torn from their homes and families, forced to fight for a cause they may not even believe in. They fought with all their might, determined to survive and protect their loved ones, even if the cost was their own lives.
But as the days dragged on, the toll of the conflict began to take its toll. The once-proud warriors were reduced to hollow shells of their former selves, haunted by the horrors they had seen and committed. The battlefield was littered with the broken bodies of those who had fallen, both friend and foe alike.
And yet, through all the suffering and pain, there remained a glimmer of hope. A hope that someday, the world would be at peace again, free from the tyranny of those who sought to control its resources. A hope that someday, the sun would shine again, and the world would be a place of joy and beauty, rather than fear and destruction.
But for now, the battle raged on, and the world waited with bated breath, wondering what horrors would come next. Would they survive to see the end of this conflict, or would they too fall victim to the ravages of war? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: the world would never be the same again.
Chapter 5. Reunion
July 8, 713 AL.
The lone sailor was on his way to a destination that he had been secretly dreaming of for years. He had spent countless hours preparing for this moment, and he was determined to see it through. As he sped up his boat, he suddenly heard a voice coming from a mysterious box inside his vessel.
"Why?" the box asked the lone sailor about his decision.
The sailor was taken aback by the sudden question, but he knew what the box was referring to. "That country's overall dreams, visions, and ideals. I like it. I'm willing to put my whole life supporting their goal," he replied confidently.
"But you are just a volunteer, right? You don't even have proper ranks and title over there," the box retorted.
The sailor paused for a moment, considering his response. "Yes. But nevertheless, I still want to support them. I believe in their cause, and I want to do what I can to help."
The box was not satisfied. "You said that you will never join any kind of big organization ever. What happened to your own independence?"
The sailor sighed, knowing that this was a question he had asked himself many times before. "I don't despise big organizations. I just specifically loathe the evil big organization. I'm willing to cooperate as long as it's not evil. But hey, since I'm a mere volunteer without actual contract, I could keep my own independence right?"
The sailor's words echoed in the box's simulated mind as they continued on their journey. The lone sailor had always been fiercely independent, and the idea of joining any kind of organization had never appealed to him. But something about this cause had touched him deeply, and he knew that he had to do whatever it took to help.
As the miles stretched on, the sailor's mind drifted back to his past. He had always been a solitary figure, preferring the company of the sea to that of other people. But there had been a time when he had been part of something larger than himself - a time when he had been part of a crew, sailing together towards a common goal. He had left that life behind years ago, but that dark memories still haunted him.
And now, as he approached his destination, he felt a sense of excitement and fear mingling within him. He knew that he was about to embark on a new journey, one that would be filled with challenges and risks.
But he also knew that he was not alone. The people he was going to support were counting on him, and he could not let them down. He was determined to do whatever it took to help them achieve their dreams, even if it meant sacrificing his own independence.
As he stepped off his boat and onto the shore, the sailor took a deep breath and looked around. The landscape was unfamiliar, but he felt a sense of hope rising within him. He knew that this was just the beginning, and that there would be many more challenges to come.
But he was ready. He had made his decision, and he was willing to put his whole life into supporting this cause. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of purpose, and he knew that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Chapter 6. The Conference
The lonely sailor had always found solace in the sea. But as he stood at the threshold of the conference room, he felt more adrift than he ever had on the open water. The clock had just struck 16.07, and he was late for the meeting. He pushed open the door, and the noisy chaos hit him full force. The cacophony of voices was deafening, a tidal wave of sound that seemed to drown out his thoughts. The room was packed with people, all shouting and bickering at each other, their voices rising and falling like the waves of the sea.
For a moment, the sailor felt like he was back on his ship, tossed about by the rough seas. But this was no ordinary storm. The tension in the room was palpable, like a dark cloud settling over the group. The smell of sweat and anxiety hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of stale coffee and cheap perfume. The sailor's heart raced as he scanned the room, trying to make sense of the madness.
In the center of the room, a government official stood, his face taut with worry. He was desperately trying to defuse the situation, but his efforts seemed futile. The voices around him grew louder and more aggressive, like a brewing storm on the horizon. The sailor could feel the anger and frustration building up inside him, threatening to engulf him like a tidal wave.
But he knew he had to stay calm. He was the outsider here, the lonely sailor in a sea of angry voices. He tried to blend in with the masses, choosing a seat in the corner of the room where he could calmly analyze the situation. He listened intently to the arguments and counterarguments, trying to understand the root of the conflict.
As the meeting dragged on, the sailor felt his emotions rising. He had always believed in the power of communication and compromise, but the people in this room seemed determined to tear each other apart. The storm clouds were gathering, and he could feel the tension building to a breaking point.
And then, suddenly, it happened. One of the participants lost his temper, hurling a chair across the room. The sound of shattering glass mingled with the shouts and screams, and the room erupted into chaos. The security team rushed in, trying to defuse the situation. They struggled to restrain the participants, who were now locked in a fierce brawl. Fists flew, and the air was thick with the sound of grunts and groans as the two sides clashed. For a moment, it seemed like the violence would never end. But finally, the security team managed to separate the combatants, and the room fell silent once more.
The aftermath was devastating. Broken chairs and shattered glass littered the floor, and several participants were nursing bruises and black eyes. The conference organizers were left reeling, unsure of how to proceed. But eventually, after much discussion and debate, it was decided that the meeting would continue. Thirty-seven of the participants were detained for destruction of public property, but the rest of the conference members soldiered on, determined to make progress despite the setback.
The government official stood at the front of the room, his eyes darting from one person to the next as voices rose and fell around him. But one voice cut through the chaos like a knife, loud and clear in its concern.
"I'm concerned with this proposal," the voice said, and all eyes turned to the person who spoke. It was a man, his face contorted with frustration and anger. "And I have some reasons. Fuel K-12 projects have been broken for more than a month now, and it doesn't seem that they are going to recover. Some efforts we have made to fix this situation are also stopped at 'security review'. Some years ago, we launched and invested a lot of money in a similar system that never succeeded because of the same reason."
The man's words hung heavy in the air, like a dark cloud settling over the room. The government official tried to speak, but the man cut him off.
"And I would accept that having third-party supplied technology is not the best option if we had a team working on those issues. But this isn't happening and doesn't seem it will happen in the future. Some years ago we were obsolete. Now we are paleolithic, a relic for archaeologists of the world. Meanwhile, other nations are advancing by the day on new techs. Every day we are further from our strategic goal."
The man's words were like a tidal wave, crashing over the people in the room and leaving them reeling. The loneliness of the sailor seemed to intensify as he watched the chaos unfold before him. He personally didn't really care much about the situation. Fuel K-12 was not something he used often, and he wasn't personally affected by the crisis. But as he calmly assessed the situation, he realized that he had to pick a side in this boiling conflict.
Suddenly, the box spoke up. "You know what, you can just leave this meeting and pick no sides you know?" it said to the sailor. "Clearly you can't gain anything from this kind of discussion. It's futile."
The sailor looked at the box, surprised by its sudden comment. He had always been intrigued by the box's unique perspective on things, but he never expected it to speak out in this way.
"This is a huge opportunity," the sailor replied, trying to defend his presence at the meeting. "You know that I'm invited directly by the higher-ups themselves to attend this conference."
The box scoffed in response. "And become a bootlicker to the government official and fight your own people? Damn, I didn't realize that you were that low nowadays."
The sailor felt a surge of anger rise within him. He had always trusted the box's judgment, but now it seemed to have turned against him. He couldn't stand the thought of being seen as a traitor to his people.
"Just shut up," the sailor bonked the box with his fist, unable to contain his frustration any longer. The sailor's hand throbbed with pain, but he didn't care. All he could think about was the weight of his decision and the pressure he felt to choose a side.
As the discussion progressed, a calm voice spoke up, "Have there been any specific incidents that led to the creation of this proposal?" The question was directed at the government official who led the discussion.
Another conference member who was sitting beside the questioner suddenly raised his voice, saying, "In my opinion, security should be preemptive and not reactive. We probably shouldn't wait for something to happen." The words were spoken with a sense of urgency, as if the speaker knew the consequences of not taking action.
Another conference member, unable to contain their frustration, shouted out, "No, no! You are clearly wrong here! There have been some instances, last I recall was with a compromised admin account!" The anger in their voice was palpable, and it was clear that they had strong opinions on the matter.
Finally, the government official was able to speak. "Umm. Thanks for joining the discussion. To be honest, yes, it happened, on multiple occasions even. Technology that loading external resources have resulted in security incidents and privacy issues."
The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation sunk in. The official continued, "While security incidents such as the one mentioned here are not detailed publicly for obvious reasons, you can get an idea of the external parties collecting critical information through 3rd party technology here."
The tension in the room was thick, and it was clear that there were high stakes involved. The official continued, "Also, I'll second what Mr. Smith mentioned earlier, especially about the importance of preventing security and privacy risks, rather than trying to address them once they have already caused damage."
The official took a deep breath before continuing, "More broadly, while it can seem far-fetched, it's good to keep in mind that privacy violations often mean real-life consequences for some individuals — harassment, identity theft, physical harm."
The words hung in the air, and it was clear that the officials were deeply concerned about the implications of not taking action. "So yes, the policy is trying to address an existing problem. While I agree with you that the policy alone may not fix that problem completely, by formalizing how third-party technology must be used in our critical infrastructure and promoting best-practices, we will end up in a much safer place than where we're right now."
The box lay still, his body battered and broken from the intense head trauma he had just endured. It was a miracle he had regained consciousness at all, and as the world slowly came back into focus, the box muttered a voice - one that seemed to come from a place deep within his subconscious. "Yeah, good. We need to 100% support the government after all. All those substandard techs from 3rd party should be banned. Sure, tons of people will suffer because of this policy, but the intention is completely right and just. We should prevent the chaos before it happened."
As he pondered, the sailor found himself drawn to the box's words. Yes, they were harsh and uncompromising, but there was a certain logic to them. After all, wasn't it better to support the government and prevent chaos before it had a chance to take hold?
The room was still filled with a tense energy as the discussion on the proposed policy continued. The questioner, a calm and collected individual, leaned forward and asked the discussion leader a question. "What will the ratification process for this proposed policy be? Is there some higher ups from the government that makes the final decision, will there be a community vote?"
The discussion leader, with unwavering confidence, replied in a calm manner. "The Empire's Security team leadership is the one making the final decision on the policy, under guidance from Legal. Based on the feedback gathered here, the policy will be updated iteratively throughout the consultation time window. After July 17 and the end of the consultation phase, the updated policy will be shared with the Empire's Legislative Board to ensure compliance with other Empire policies, and its final version released in due time."
The room fell silent, the weight of the discussion hanging heavily in the air. The sailor, sitting in the back of the room, muttered silently to himself. "Yeah, I think all is already decided. I can't do much meaningful constructive contribution in this discussion at all." He felt helpless, like a small cog in a massive machine that was already set in motion, with no chance of changing its course.
In that moment, the sailor's mind wandered to memories of his past adventures on the high seas. He thought about the feeling of the wind in his hair and the salty spray of the ocean on his face. He longed for the freedom of the open sea, where he could chart his own course and make his own decisions. With a heavy heart, the sailor quietly gathered his things and left the room. As he walked down the hallway, he clutched a small wooden box tightly in his hands.
As he stepped outside, the sailor took a deep breath of fresh air and gazed up at the sky. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow across the horizon. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer for guidance and strength.
With renewed determination, the sailor set off on his next adventure, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. He knew that the world was full of uncertainty and that sometimes, things didn't go as planned. But he also knew that as long as he had the love and support of those closest to him, he could handle anything that came his way.
(つづく)