The Jovian Kingdoms, while individually ruled, bow to the monarchy of Europa. Their genetic dynasty has been tweaked to create what they would call, “the most perfect king” to ever exist.

You can’t avoid King Tihan’s face. Hopping down from the station? That’s King Tihan’s station. Entering their underpalace, deep within Europa’s frozen ocean? Tihan’s beautiful grin will be on the shuttle. The other kingdoms are better—with the academies on Io being the one exception. He does talks there, and I admit… they’re good.

If you’re on Europa, you’re funding gene research. Regardless of what you’re doing, your fifty dumpuks for a fish sandwich with a side of kraut will funnel down to the gene fishers.

They’re odd. All of them. No one works harder and loves it more than a Europan. No one was designed for their job like a Europan. They’re like machines down in their hive, plucking away at—what—expanding their genepool?

I suppose that’s why we left Earth in the first place. We’re a weird lot. They’re some of the weirdest, smartest people I’ve ever met. I wish they moved from Europa more often. Them fishers must’ve that desire away from them.

A whole people full of happy workers that never want to leave. It’s unnatural, to say the least.