Derganix, Outskirts of the Capital

Barka muttered to himself as he walked down the filth strewn streets. There was a time only 5 or 6 years ago when the sight of him walking down a suburban street would draw throngs of well wishers and kids asking for his hoofprint signature for their collections. But now it seemed that all his fellow Dergans cared about was Cabbage. And if they weren’t hooked on the dastardly plant then they were dealing with family members who were.

The Cabbage used to be a rare treat for the Dergan species. The potent psychotropic strains only crew naturally just above the treeline in the southern amd northern highlands above or below the 45th parrelel in their respective continents. Its rarity and the effort needed to harvest the plant had made its highly addictive property moot for century and millenia. Back then is was a celebratory substance that would be injected in small amounts at graduation parties and weddings. But now, at last count, nearly 48% of adult Dergans used the substance on a weekly if not daily basis. It gave the user a few hours of extreme euphoria in exchange for nearly a full day of deep slumber.

The effects of the drugs prevalence and ubiquity since the ‘Big Ears’ had arrived had crushed the economy and progress of the entire species in only 5 years.

Barka was doing a favour for his sister, and going to retrieve his nephew from a notorious Cabbage den in the south east extremes of the Capitals outlying regions. For security Barka, the Deputy Launch Director of the Dergan Space Agency, had brought Officer 3rd Class Grumma, the head of his personal protection detail. Though a few passers by did seems to recognize the middle aged man, none dare approach or call out to him save one teenager who was obviously cranked out of his head on Cabbage.

“Hey, the space guy from the nets! Sorry about the cuts to your funding dooooood.”

Grumma grunted.

“Let him talk…I think this is the place.” Barka said after checking his notepad and confirmed the address.

“Should I just start busting heads while you grab your nephew? Or do you want to play it nice?” Grumma asked.

“We’ll try to be nice, but be ready for some skull busting.” Barka replied. Though Cabbage addicts weren’t known for violent outbursts, the owners and proprietorship of the countless flop houses might still take offense.

Government Quarter

As the 3 Daimons left the weekly consultation, the Dergan negotiating team remained seated, and for several moments no one spoke.

“They’re right…I think even the Cabbage heads seated at this table can admit that.” The Defense Secretary said, to which several looks of derision and shock were aimed at him.

“Oh, you too Hutta? Don’t bother denying it, any of you. I can smell it on all of your breath. Ive held my tongue for nearly 2 years, but when the big ears are concerned enough to raise the issue with us we must face the facts, and that should start honesty and pragmatism here.” He finished.

“No Dergan Senate has ever passed any law restricting the freedom or liberty of any citizen…”

“Yes yes yes, and the 2 that tried to were all slaughtered en masee, I am well aware of our history. But our society is decaying at such a rapid rate, we are looking at complete civilization collapse in less then a decade if this is allowed to continue. We are already having problems retaining staff at power plants around the planet. When those go down, what do you suppose our freedom loving will do then when there is electricity to run the replicators?” Several of the dozen Dergans around the table shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

“We don’t restrict citizens freedom then. We restrict the functionality of the devices themselves just as the big ears hinted at.” The President said.

Over the next hour, they decided to restrict the amount of Cabbage each replicator could produce each day. Within 4 days, the withdrawal epidemic began. The Defense Secretary and the President, luckily, were prepared for such an eventuality and instituted a preliminary recovery plan by the end of the week.