It was always cloudy in the slums of Yetterdam. The poorest inhabitants of one of the weakest and least profitable planets of the Confederate, who was going to pony up to finish the terraforming and scrub the skies clean once and for all? No one, Sargeant Clot grew up resenting this fact everyday of his life.
Of course, if you were rich, you not only had the best in artificial sun lighters, but you also got out of a tour in the ConMarine Corps., or ConCorps for short. For so many young, eager, and naive Yetterites, the ConCorps was the only hope for getting off the planet and to peep some sights of the big warm sky hidden by soupy gray plumes of murky vapor. Forget the fact that it was required of all Confederate citizens.
Little did he know that once he reached through the clouds in the packed tinite can the Corps. has the audacity to call a "ship," the windows would be sealed shut and all aboard get the deep sleep. Turns out no one in the slums knew enough about interstellar travel. Clot would keep his eyes closed longer than he ever could of thunk it and traveled more lifetimes than his slumyanks could ever hope to see in order to get to the ConCorps. training plant of Humch.
It was at Humch that he learned he was a natural leader. Granted, his grey skin burnt badly on the hot, arid training planet, but he humped all over and grew to be one of the best of his training squad and at hacking it independently. Being slumborn, he could only ever hope to raise to the rank of Sarg, but he did that in record time.
He did manage to make enemies along the way. Some were jealous of his successes and most were desperate for some attention for the upper slogs monitoring their training and every move.
Racism never became some archaic way of thinking when man reached the stars en masse. No, it grew rampantly and can be seen on any planet or newsflash seen on the webs. The natural enemy of the successful is the weak and untalented. It didn't take long for anti-Yetterism to rear its ugly head, and Clot was busted down to Corporal. He was sent off under the command of a Sargeant untrained and untested to quell a fresh new uprising on Siytlaman. It was a long dreg across defunct star systems and an even longer sleep than what he experienced to get to Humch.
Forever known as "Sarg" to his squadmates, it'll take time for Corporal Clot to earn his way back up, if he ever will, but he knows he has a fist of fellow Cons just waiting to be yeilded against those rukkers who disparage him based on his humble beginnings.
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