Malaya 2057: A Thousand Moons Have Passed

Today the streets are clean. The lights are dim. Not a leaf moves in this territory unless we wish it to. The synthetic grass in the city streets is a peculiar shade of green that would not even fool a child of 60 moons really, but it will do.

Our civilian troops subdued this part of the world some time back. In the aftermath of the unplanned ecological disasters, the countryside was devastated and the people's own feudalistic mentality and abhorrence of open confrontation made it a relatively smooth task. 

You cannot really take away freedom from those who fear it and do not know what to do with it when they have it. 

Today, our forces move from one barren landscape to another. In between the populated cities, we have facilities that are more jungle outposts than villages. It is as if we carried out a scorched earth policy to assert control over this region. 

Only we didn't have to. It was already this way when we arrived, a once proud and fertile land depleted by decades of thoughtless exploitation, and finished off by the collective crises.