Log Entry

2.026.59.6.000

Consul Rugatol, I am delighted to report that our endeavor has borne fruit at last.  Though Restidland (which I have learned the natives call Dadi) is teeming with inhabitants, they seem unoccupied and uninterested in the abundance of precious metal at their disposal.  I can only assume their ignorance is a result of their heathen gods.  They walk about with artificial purpose apparently tied to their games.  This people seems almost entirely possessed of their myriad games and revelries, most or all involving reference to their pagan deities, but what ritualistic purpose they serve is unknown to me at this time.  Much of their time is occupied with formalized specialization quid-pro-quo, painstakingly and intentionally complicated in some ludicrous intent to harness chaos, assigning sentience to what can only be described as a faith in dynamic equilibrium, their god (or at least one of their major gods) some anthropomorphic manifestation thereof; the artificial nature of their masked formalities inexplicably divorced from all concurrent and intersecting systems, natural and synthetic.  Provoked by instinct I have to assume, this culminates in a post-harvest time celebration that serves as an offering of some sort, I believe, towards either a second god – or else an otherwise ignored aspect of the first god – who appears to represent a counter-reductionist balance, which apparently evidences an awareness (or perhaps again instinct) of the dangers inherent in these interactions, but which finally is merely an over-digitized approximation of the apparent goal which it seems the natives have a desperate faith can be made real through sufficiently obfuscatory incantations. 

While the ferrous and heavy metals abundant on the planet are ours to pick through as scrap – the indigenous peoples are more interested in soft metals, hard stones, and primitive polymers assured to wreak havoc – our fuel stores could be greatly extended by harnessing the labor power of the inhabitants, and without much ethical dilemma as they have already built for themselves what amounts to a slave ship by any civilized measure.  With us focusing their efforts through similar channels they will continue to be as happy, or unhappy as each case may be, but with at least the benefit of our cultural heritage introduced clandestinely into their own.  They will become more healthy, more fit, their evolution less stunted (though we can do little on the social side of that equation).  Brief psychological profiles, strategic pheromone deployment, and a few drags of gold (generally used for children's toys)  would be sufficient to benefit ourselves without interfering unduly in the native activities.

I have already made preliminary contact with some of the key inhabitants and am able to begin at your approval.  This, Consul, is the primary source of my delay as I wasted several weeks in my ignorance of Restidland, presuming, quite arrogantly, that the titled persons were the engine here.  Though, in my defense, it is the only world I’ve so far encountered where such was not the case.

I stand by for your orders.

Palwick Rontudod, Captain S.M. H. Hubris