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Under Tripoli's Moons

I should not expose myself so. Our beachhead on this world is tenuous, and the enemy still controls near space. But after so long in space, with nothing but metal walls and abstract screens to view the universe through, it is a wonder to stand outside, breathe the bitter unfiltered air and bath beneath the light of three moons. It is worth the risk of a bolt from above.

Beyond the moons, the M'kkiae, our alien allies in name -- masters in fact -- fight humans for supremacy of this distant outpost. It is two centuries since my clone-father fled earth, spending decades in cold slumber and forlorn exile. He died with Admiral Narita at Amaterasu; a glorious death. I have never seen Earth; I have never seen Amaterasu or my father. I was decanted on the muddy plains of Chosun under a sky of grey-green haze graced by no moons.

There are times when my training and conditioning falter and I wonder why we fight our brothers over a feud long settled. But were it not for this war, I would not stand here today awed by the wonder of these three bright moons that bath the night.

-- Abe 86, pilot-lieutenant of Samurai MII 47, Third Strike Squadron, First Star Wing - 3 February 2258

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