The fluorescence of the lit room was jarring. The recycled air of the Habitation Dome tasted like sandpaper in my throat. I hunched over a dented metal table, my calloused hands hovering on the edge of the table. Bright and unforgiving, the light left me no shadows to hide behind as I finished looking over the thick contract in front of me. The wrinkles on my hand betrayed the age and fatigue in them. I was so tired of it all. A crushing routine for the past 30 years, of trying everything I could to sustain this mining colony. Now, it was my turn to sign the "peace" treaty. The final nail in the coffin, of this foolish endeavor that filled this old man with regret.

The contract was a settlement offer from Caine & Associates. The legal firm representing the private lenders, The Peripheral Mining Federation. Nothing they put in front of me was illegal, it was funding procured from the UN's Interstellar Development Fund. However, I couldn't help but feel unease at this dubious offer. All of my genetic information is to be traded for debt forgiveness. I had no children, and it occurred to me that it sounded too good to be true. But I'm so tired. Just so damn tired of fighting these attorneys and bankers. The words on these forms were difficult to comprehend. They never clearly state anything in simple terms. All of it is designed to confuse.

The men surrounding me were not colonialists like me. They were the executives and corporate hounds that made the galaxy turn. Their suits betrayed a calculated and perfected appearance. Impeccable, was the word that came to mind. The word was screaming at me from the suits to their smiles, and even the fountain pen they put in front of me. Too polished, everything in this mining colony was never this clean. I could see one of the men with a handkerchief over his nose, clearly this environment did not suit him. 

"A simple signature, Mr. Schneider," one of them purred, a manicured hand sliding the thick stack of documents closer across the worn table. "Merely a formality, but the key to a future we can all benefit from."

Outside of this room, there was a crowd that had formed. Faces of young and hopeful eyes. Futures to be lived. This was my kingdom, a hardscrabble mining colony scraped together on this alien rock. Its foundations are built on an untenable debt.

"Mr. Schneider," he prompted again.

"Director," I rumbled back, the dust in my lungs making my voice a permanent rasp.

"The situation remains unchanged, Mr. Schneider. This is a solution for everyone's benefit,"

My gut twisted. I'd heard the rumors, the whispers of a new technology on Earth, a way to cheat death. Cloning. "Your genes, Mr. Schneider. In exchange, the debt is wiped clean. Everyone here walks free."

Free? But was I free to walk out of here myself? No, they demanded a sacrifice. As the leader, it was only natural that the burden fell on me.

"What happens to... the clones?" My voice rasped, the question hanging heavy.

"They'd be... working off the debt your colony accrued." The Director sighed. It wasn't out of sympathy but impatience.

I looked at the entrance to my office. There was only one way out of this room.

With a sigh that rattled in my chest. "I accept."

My hand moved quickly over the lines, scribbling the shorthand signature I used to sign off the hundreds of manifests and reports. It was automatic. The director's seal was stamped after my signature with each scribble on the line. A validation of the authenticity of my signature.

"You made the right choice, Hans" The director assured me.

"A lot of people are going to get a second chance at this business, and it's all thanks to you"

I stared at my worn metal table, my warped reflection staring back from the surface. I have just sold my legacy, my very self, for the freedom of my people. It was victory and bitter defeat, a bargain struck under a hostile sky. The weight of it pressed down on me like the immense gravity of a warp jump, a new kind of burden for a tired pioneer in a dying world.

At least, I won't live long enough to bear this burden any longer.