Mazirbe

Mazirbe wasn't always a backwater world. Mazirbe was initially settled in 315 to serve as a base of operations to take advantage of the system's two asteroid belts. The thinking was to have belters mine the ore from the asteroids and haul the ore to Mazirbe for refining. Transporting the refined ore, as opposed to bulk material, would save on transportation costs. And, for a while, Mazirbe was a prosperous world. Unfortunately, both asteroid belts were mainly composed of carbonaceous asteroids. Although the occasional independent belter still makes a find, the nickel-iron asteroids were mined out in just a couple of centuries, leaving the inhabitants of Mazirbe without a primary export product. Those who could afford to leave did.

For those who stayed behind, a new source of income was desperately needed. Mazirbe's primary, Teivosun, is an orange giant. Despite being 19.6 AU's away, Mazirbe bakes at an average temperature of 62° Celsius. These harsh climatic conditions ruled out agriculture. In fact, below 45° latitude, no vegetation exists at all. And between 45° and 55° latitude it is only during the winter years that plant life makes any progress. During the summer years, spores and seeds lay dormant, waiting for autumn rains in order to germinate.

Despite the blistering temperatures, 30% of Mazirbe's surface is covered with water. Over the millennia, most bodies of water have proven to be stable above 35° latitude, though exceptions exist. Despite the high salinity of the world's seas, Teivosun evaporates square kilometers of water from them every day. But at night, temperatures drop nearly 44° Celsius! Mazirbe's thin atmosphere can't hold its heat so all the water that evaporated during the day rains back down to the surface at night.

It was Mazirbe's climate that proved to be a clue to its source of income. During the summer years, when temperatures are even warmer, huge salt flats lay exposed for dozens of kilometers. Gypsum has become the world's primary export. Although unable to become an agricultural world itself, Mazirbe helps out agricultural worlds by providing them with fertilizers.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of money in salt. Mazirbe's infrastructure continued to decline. It finally stabilized at TL4. Despite this, Mazirbe's inhabitants remained upbeat with their simple existence. Each Presidente del Mazirbe, a dictator elected for life, tended to enjoy a sedentary populace that didn't complain about its predicament. Dissenters, if any, emigrated. As such, law enforcement tended to be moderate.

While the Civil War raged on, life on Mazirbe remained quiet. The only real event that occurred was the Jonkeeren Land Deal, better known locally as "Sand For Suckers." Mazirbe received several million credits from the Domain of Deneb as compensation for the establishment of a Jonkeeren colony within the great equatorial desert. The settlement was small, only 5,000 individuals, but it was land that the natives of Mazirbe thought to be completely useless due to its uninhabitability. El Presidente received praise galore for outwitting the lofty Imperials.

But Fate is fickle. And she is as likely to give, as she is to take away.

When the Quarantine was declared, Mazirbe found itself situated within the Regency Frontier. Although it was an undesirable position, it was livable. But a few years later, the Regency decided that Vargr refugees would be permitted to settle Mazirbe as well. Not just a few thousand, but rather a few hundred thousand. Unlike the Jonkeeren, this new batch of immigrants came without compensation, and they certainly didn't want to live out in the desert. This was too much for the population to bear. They protested loudly. Even El Presidente petitioned the Regency for a redress of grievances. The two sides finally settled on emigration for those within the populace who wanted to leave, with the Regency picking up the tab.

Unhappy with their new neighbors, 82% of the population bolted for worlds within the Regency interior. Even the government shut itself down and closed up shop. Worried about the potential chaos that could ensue from the power vacuum, the RISS stepped in to administer the world as an interim government. The new government, which grew out of the scout base administration, is simply a civil service bureaucracy. Both Human and Vargr are represented. Jonkeeren don't seem to care too much about the government as legislation is rarely passed that affects life in the desert.

Among the Vargr refugees that came to settle this world are some of the Gvaekuers, a former splinter group of the Kforuz corsair band. A life of mining salt was not palatable to them. And there isn't a Vargr that does who has any sort of charisma to them. These descendants of corsairs despise the Quarantine. Having never lost the corsair spirit, they rail against the restrictions imposed by the RQS and constantly try to break Quarantine. Their ships run out into the Denebian Wilds and Tuglikki, and have been rumored to have even gone as far away as Provence and Corridor. And they're not above firing on RQS ships if they think they can get away with it.

As such, Mazirbe's economy has begun to show a little more life again. Pack money has found it's way into the hands of the general public. Standard of living conditions have shown some improvement. Even members of the human population don't seem to mind what the Gvaekuers are up to as it has come to benefit them as well, via cash used to purchase local goods and services.

The more law-abiding members of society, Vargr and Human alike, have sought an end to this surly behavior. Law enforcement has been beefed up, giving the world its law level rating of 9, but the local tech level leaves few tools at their disposal. The RISS, who never left, lend a hand to try and help root out Gvaekuers smuggling, but for every ship caught at least two more get away.

It is this uncontrolled atmosphere that led to Mazirbe getting passed over for the lucrative Safeside Terminus status. Although Gvaekuers smuggling may boost its economy somewhat, Mazirbe will likely remain a backwater world for some time.

Back