Dr. Zee leaned back slowly in his battered leather chair. In front of him was a large desk made of some kind of reclaimed metal, littered with documents most of which had long passed their usefulness. The wall ahead was constructed of a translucent material allowing him to observe the “majesty” of Gastropodia Prime. The unfortunate home world of the GasPod’s had once been a verdant and varied landscape, with an equally varied selection of inhabitants. These days it was a acrid rock covered with rolling clouds of luminous pollution.
He was pleased with what they had achieved. Originating as mindless munchers, creatures that meandered across the land and the sea eating whatever they could wrap their radula around, they were now captains of industry and quite frankly the most worthwhile creatures in the galaxy! This was partly down to the rapid extinction of their competitors and basically their entire food chain, but a small price for such grand success. Nutrients could be synthesised.
From Eos Platform, a metallic fortress floating in a loose orbit around his home planet, he felt content. Zee was aware it was not a bed of roses for every GasPod down there. Many lived in the slum Silos that littered the surface, escaping into bags of sodium chloride or mutilating each other for the opportunity. He mused that it must be a difficult existence for those unfortunate individuals, but this is progress. Nobody ever said it had to be progress for the many. Progress for the few was the name of the game and he was number one. He was sure the rest would either catch up eventually or, helpfully, remove themselves from the equation completely.
He caught himself getting lost in the mutating colours in front of him, the vibrant and ever changing landscape of cloud formations. Dr. Zee took a bite from the textured protein loaf lying on the desk and began to shuffle through papers. There were elections to arrange, military spending to be allocated, industry to be monitored. Best get back to work.