Emotion 365: The Land of Pensiveness, the Capitol Parsimonious

Pensiveness peaks create a pocked moonscape exposed to cold, empty space where life may reside but remains unseen. Below in caves and crevasses, deep scarred places, something wriggles. A flag stuck into the surface remains motionless. The hull of a shuttle sits upon charred rock. Mountains loom in the distance. Pinnacles provide uncertain landmarks. A tentacle could wrap around them. Are they scarred with claw marks? Something phosphorus glows in the dark. A yellow haze rises. It casts a smoky smell.

Here on the remote moon mining colony Parsimonious inhabitants must wear helmets in order to breathe. Inside, they gasp for breath. The regulated gravity weighs on them. The regulators are old and in disrepair. The piped in oxygen is a bit thin and not quite right. The engineers are fear of scarcity so they over-ration everything: air, warmth, water. In the colony Parsimonious, large windows overlook the pocked rocks of Pensiveness. When not working in the mines, inhabitants stand looking out wondering, "Why did I come here? Why must it be so cold?"

They drink tepid tea and ask, "Why did I submit to this consensual slavery?"

Now that they have accepted free passage to the colony, there is no way back to where they came from. Return must be earned and no one (in power) wants you back.