The History of the Regulators Part III

I’ve been highlighting the Regulators and it’s most important members this week. There have been a number of groups that shaped Lahaina after the fracture, but there’s no doubt that the Regulators have had a bigger impact than most. I’ve discussed the transportation obsessed Esther Hele, and the alarming queen of food safety Betsy KauKau. Today, I’ll cover the last and most well received co-founder of the group, Dan Kukulu, or as he’s better known, Dan The Building Man.

Little to nothing is known about Dan’s upbringing and early years. The first mention of Dan in any of the old documents is when he was first appointed as a building inspectors in Lahaina. Dan took to his post just a year before the municipal veil building was constructed. He served the county of Maui for a while, but eventually left to work for Veilcorp.

Dan excelled in his new role, and was soon the head of maintenance at the facility. Fate had different plans for Dan however, and just a few months into his new job the fracture happened. To the astonishment of the surrounding Kānaka, Dan walked away from the building seemingly unharmed days later, and began his work immediately.

Although people were falling victim to biohazards and toxic fumes all around him Dan seemed fine. His survival coupled with his quiet demeanor, and aversion to physical contact made fellow survivors nervous at first. Their worries were soon quashed when Dan began to inspect buildings in the area and started repairs.

It was not unusual in those first few years after the collapse to wake up and find new handrails, or a repaired access ramp outside of your building. He never asked for help, but would accept it silently and graciously. When people would inquire, the normally quiet Dan would respond that the fracture wouldn’t have happened if the proper codes were followed. He couldn’t undo the accident, but he could ensure that everyone had a safe and accessible place to live now. He saw it as his job to make sure that the old construction safeguards were upheld, so the future could be rebuilt to commonly accepted standards.

Dan’s tireless work and aloofness had a big impact on the Kānaka in particular. They began to whisper that Dan wasn’t human but a spirit of the land. They claimed that he never slept and could travel great distances through the air at night. They made lists of things such as: clearly marked exits, termite barriers, clear roof drains, and properly installed cladding systems that pleased The Building Man. Dan loved detailed maintenance logs above all else, and presenting a set to him was a sure way to keep him working in your village.

Dan hated inaccurate blueprints and rooms without proper egress above all else. The Kānaka devised complex ceremonies to ensure that Dan would grant them building permits. These ceremonies could last for days and involve multiple villages. The rituals surrounding grandfathering a surviving structure were especially elaborate.

It wasn’t long before The Building Man started attracting followers, but unlike his fellow Regulators he never seemed interested in leading a large group. If he felt that his work crew had become too large to be efficient, he would send them ahead to scout and start repairs in new areas. Many of the remaining structures in Lahaina are standing because of Dan’s work. It’s hard to estimate how many people he helped that first year, but they numbered in the hundreds at least.

However helpful some found Dan, he was not without his critics. The Building Man considered every structure on the island his domain. He did not wait for permission to inspect your dwelling. It was his job. He would make what repairs and alterations he deemed necessary without regard for the people inside. It was not unusual to be awoken in the night from the sound of Dan altering the size of your doorway to meet code or other adjustments. Worse still, if he found your structure uninhabitable he would demolish it without regard for the occupants inside. If he was met with resistance Dan could be a terrible opponent indeed.

It was this disregard for the wishes of a structure’s occupants, and heedless renovation that eventually drove Dan from Lahaina. He attempted to install emergency lighting with a small crew of followers inside a building that turned out to be a Tapper stronghold. A fight between the groups soon broke out. According to the stories, the battle was so large that almost all of Front street was covered in Tapper fog. For hours the sounds of screams and nailguns mixed with taps and explosions. The battle moved North into the old preserve and Dan was never seen in Lahaina again.

There are rumors that Dan survived his battle with the Tappers and simply relocated to Kapalua to work in peace around the golf course. The Kānaka claim that he was so troubled by the Tapper’s aggression that he traveled to another island to continue his work. Whatever the truth, there is no doubt that Lahaina is a better place because of Dan’s work.

The History of the Regulators Part II

There have been a number of groups and individuals who have impacted the day-to-day lives of survivors on the island. Few have had as big of an impact as the regulators, however. The collection of dedicated civil servants and like-minded individuals, strive to implement and enforce the rules and regulations that existed before the collapse of civilization. Many, including the Kānaka, see them as the last vestige of an old failed system. Still, others admire their perseverance.

Earlier this week we covered the group’s founder, Esther Hele, a former DMV worker striving to keep the roads safe and the drivers licensed. Today, we’ll cover the group’s most notorious member, Betsy Kaukau. The name alone is enough to make even the bravest Kānaka warrior nervous. Even amongst members of the Regulators, Betsy is considered misguided. Some say that her story is more fiction than fact and serves as a cautionary tale. Others disagree. Either way, her story is an important piece of island history.

Betsy was not born to love her job like many of the Regulators. She was led down the health inspector path through tragedy. Until her 12th year, the young lady was remarkable only in her unremarkability. She wasn’t interested in anything in particular, excelled in no sport or extracurricular activity. She wasn’t a gifted orator or artist and was an average student. Everything about Betsy was standard with no deviation, until that fateful day at her father’s company picnic.

The media at first didn’t fully appreciate how bad the tainted food was. By the end of the week, they would be calling it the worst case of food poisoning ever recorded. A CDC investigation found that a perfect storm of tainted lettuce, undercooked chicken, and spoiled cole slaw was responsible. There was a cobb salad that combined listeria, trichinosis, salmonella, and e-coli in one dish! There were a number of recalls and legal suits filed but it was too late for the 34 men, women, and children lost that day. It was too late for Betsy’s family.

The girl was sent to live with relatives in Lahaina where she began to finally show an interest in something, microbiology, and food safety. Betsy became obsessed with protecting others from the same fate as her family. As a teenager, she was banned from several local restaurants for barging into the kitchen and demanding to check food temperatures or test sanitizing solutions with her container of test strips. Nobody was surprised when she eventually became a health inspector.

She attacked unsafe food handling practices with a vengeance that unnerved her co-workers and led to a number of official complaints. Betsy was particularly hard on the businesses that had banned her as a teenager. She became convinced that they were lying about their food handling practices and hiding something. When she publicly accused the owner of a popular beach bar of serving poisonous pina coladas, it was the transgression that her superiors had been waiting for. A disciplinary hearing was scheduled for the following Tuesday, September 27th, the same day that the veils fractured. Nobody knows what happened at that hearing or how Betsy survived. What is clear, is that the catastrophe had a profound effect on the already obsessed woman.

For a while, the islanders embraced her, and she was helpful. She taught safe food preservation and canning procedures. She explained to all who would listen that public health was more important than ever, and was the first to discover that the island’s white rats carried prions and shouldn’t be eaten. There can be no argument that for a time Betsy saved many lives, but as the Regulators grew in power so did her instability.

She began to preach about the pureness of food. Claiming that all food was flawless until tainted by mishandling and lies about its preparation. She believed that lies could taint people and spill over into their meals just as easily as bacteria, and it was her job to protect the public from both.

This is where the stories began to conflict and get a bit murky. There are claims that she believed that the entire summer harvest in a Thriver village had been tainted and had every plant dug up and destroyed. Still, others say that she thought the people had been tainted so she poisoned their food to stop the spread of the infection. Either way, many lives were lost and it was just the beginning.

The stories of her exploits for the next year range greatly from the bizarre and misguided to the horrific. What is certain, is that Betsy took complete control of the food and its distribution in Lahaina for a long time. She began to target specific people she felt did not take safe food handling seriously. They found no mercy at the bottom of her sanitizer vats, and no pity from her long probe thermometers. Finally, though, they had enough.

With her compatriot Esther run-off after a disagreement with the Kānaka chief Ikaika, Betsy didn’t have the manpower to hold off those who wanted her gone. She supposedly escaped her attackers and fled East to join up with Esther, but accounts of the assault vary. Some say she made it and plans on coming back with a whole new arsenal of twisted kitchen equipment and shutdown notices. Some say she is finally at peace somewhere in the rubble of her old headquarters. Whatever the truth, everyone who has ever accidentally dropped food on the floor can breathe easier since she’s been gone.

The Legend of “The Lucky Dodge Hotel”

There is no shortage of mysterious legends and strange places in Lahaina. Whether it’s a cryptic Hailoha driver patrolling Front Street, a mountain top ghost ship, or an eccentric survivor with a small fleet of submarines, there are plenty of stories to tell around a fire. One of the most beloved by the Kanaka is the story of The Lucky Dodge Hotel. A place where you can get almost anything if you are desperate enough, and willing to pay the price.

Before the fracture, The Laki Beach Lodge was one of the most popular places to stay in Lahiana. Set between Front Street and the ocean, guests found themselves yards away from the beach and within walking distance of many popular destinations. Laki Lodge was always full and had a reservation list that extended months ahead. However, like everything else, the accident changed all that.

A Naval group was traveling to their base on Molokai when the veils ruptured. Instead of appearing next to the docks and commencing with some minor maintenance, the ships emerged from the veil like a bullet from a gun. All of Lahaina shook and the sound was deafening, as reinforced hulls tore great furrows into the ground and shattered from the incredible force of the impact. In a matter of seconds, the group had reshaped the coastline and created two deep channels in a “V” shape around the Laki, leaving it alone on a green island. The Kanaka renamed it “The Lucky Dodge Hotel” and the moniker has stuck to this day.

Many believe that the hotel’s near destruction was no accident. The Kanaka say the area is sacred and protected by the land and water. The fact that the lights are always on, and strange sounds can often be heard coming from the building, does little to dispel these rumors. Most Kanaka refuse to visit the hotel and there are numerous stories about the curious never returning after walking through the front door. While there are no vacant rooms, it is said that you can get almost anything in the lobby of the Lucky Dodge if you are willing to pay the price. The desperate few who have returned describe staff as enigmatic as the building itself.

Nobody knows for sure who owns the hotel. There are stories that it is run by the Tappers who use it as a base to watch over the island. Others say that Veilcorp knew that the fracture would happen and took over the hotel, keeping it a living time capsule of 2050 for high-ranking employees. There are even tales that it is part of some larger underwater complex. However, everyone agrees that it is dangerous to try and reach the Lucky Dodge without help.

The dark waters of the koʻokoʻo inlets that surround the hotel hold an unusually high number of patrolling sharks. Lingering radiation in the waters can cause confusion in those trying to swim across, leaving them to tread water until the sharks find them or they slip below, due to exhaustion. According to the tales, the safest way to cross the inlet is to travel to the Southern bank, find the old valet stand, and press the call button to summon the canoeman. A young man of Kanaka descent, the canoeman never speaks except to say, “Tipping is appreciated” and always arrives within minutes, day or night. A trip across the inlet costs 10 rai which must be paid upfront with return passage, should you make it, being free. There are rumors that without payment you can cross, but must serve inside the Dodge in some capacity.

Once inside the building, visitors are treated to an immaculate lobby filled with the sounds and smells of the old world. Unlike the canoeman, descriptions of the concierge vary greatly. Some describe a short bearded man in a suit, while others recount a statuesque woman with raven-black hair dressed in an old-fashioned gown. While the physical descriptions differ, they are said to both speak with a strange accent and carry themselves oddly, leaving visitors uneasy.

They say that the concierge can get anything you may need, direct you to any location, and answer any question for a price. That price is always high and often, not a monetary one. Many accidents and strange events on the island are rumored to be the price paid for a favor from the Dodge, but the few who claim to have visited are reluctant to talk about the cost. Whatever the truth about the owners may be, there is no doubt that the Lucky Dodge Hotel is one of the most enigmatic locations in Lahaina, with many considering it a destination of last resort.

Bruddah Lee

Kanaka Historian

The History of the Regulators Part I

There have been a number of groups and individuals who have helped make the island livable since the fracture. From science fair kids joining forces with a dance troupe, to mysterious delivery men trying to keep Front street safe, many have dedicated their lives to making things better. Then there are those that are harder to quantify.

The Regulators are one such group. A collection of dedicated civil servants and like-minded individuals, the Regulators strive to implement and enforce the rules and regulations that existed before civilizations collapse. Most on the island views this as a preposterous endeavor at best. The Kānaka in particular, have a very dim view on rebuilding things in the image of what existed before. However, there are those that admire the tenacity of the Regulators and their resolve.
This is the first in a series explaining how the group got its start, and detailing their three most important members.

By all accounts Esther Hele was a miserable child. Born the daughter of a well-known Pali-ites instructor at the world famous Kokua Wellness Center and Spa here in Lahaina, Esther’s troubles began almost immediately. The carefree and self-regulated parenting style in her home did not fit Esther’s personality. Thriving on order and rules, she would routinely put her toys in long lines in order to listen to their concerns and give them daily direction.

This behavior spilled over into preschool, where young Esther took great delight in reporting any and all infractions, (especially line cutting), to the teachers. Elementary school was no better. She was picked last, if ever, for every game at recess. The other children made fun of her need for order and love of authority. Things finally came to a head when Esther presented a 10-page report on the short-counting issue running rampant during hide-N-seek to the Principal.

It troubled her greatly that others were routinely allowed to disregard the rules without consequence. It seemed unfair to her that many of the adults appeared not to care, or were unwilling to enforce mutually understood standards of conduct. The lunch line was haphazard and inefficient at best. Esther declared that she would be better equipped to run things than her classmates or teachers. It was her proposed punishments for them that drew the most concern. After some discussion with school officials, and a licensed counselor, it was agreed that Esther should attend a more structured private school on the mainland.

The new school was exactly what she needed. While she still had trouble relating to her peers, Esther thrived under the strict new rules. She soon became a favorite of the staff and was allowed many special privileges. She reorganized the stanchions in the library, reducing the average check-out time by almost a minute. She added 30 pages to the school’s code of conduct packet to remove any ambiguities. Instances of students sneaking off campus dropped by a third under Esther’s diligent night watches. Not only did Esther like the strict rules, but she began to love the power as well.

Eventually she graduated and needed to find work. College seemed too chaotic for Esther and her teachers suggested a summer job while she worked on her plans for the future. On paper the DMV seemed liked the perfect fit for her, and as Esther would tell you, paper never lies. She did well at private school, but she was born to work at the DMV.

The lines were magnificent. If someone gave you trouble you could put them in another line, and watch the hope drain out of their eyes, by closing it minutes later. While the rules and organization inside seemed capricious or punitive to some, they made perfect sense to Esther. Still, she missed her family and longed to mold her hometown into a more efficient place to live. She was eventually granted a transfer.

Esther had just began to settle in at her new office. She wasn’t even supposed to start for another week, but she wanted to time the lines and look for any possible rule breaking from her co-workers before she started her next report. When the island started shaking she quickly led them to the designated emergency shelter and had the forethought to bring the water tanks from the lobby. Say what you will about her personality, but all the survivors inside that DMV office that day owe her their lives.

They stayed in the shelter for what seemed like forever. Finally, the water situation started to become dire. Esther knew she had to get out and survey the area, but she was not quite ready for what she saw. Everything was in ruins. She assumed there must be other survivors somewhere but she didn’t see any. Though she didn’t know what the problem was exactly, it was a safe bet that nobody would be veiling in with help anytime soon. It was clear what she had to do.

With the veils broken, organized roads and safe drivers were more important than ever. She couldn’t clean water but she could make sure the equipment needed would be delivered by licensed drivers. She didn’t have any medical equipment but she could ensure that it was distributed promptly through an orderly transportation system. She had the knowledge and skills. She understood how important her cog was in the wheel of civilization. She would continue the DMV’s work.

The rest is history. For years Esther could be found patrolling the roads and conducting driving tests around Lahaina. Some of the questions changed over the years. “What should you do first if you find a Menehune has cut your brake lines?” and “If you are trying to escape a Night Marcher who wants your skull, but the light is red, are you allowed to continue without coming to a complete stop,” are two of the most recent additions. Esther tried to keep the rest as close to the original as possible. Her staff grew from the initial survivors to a group of over 100, all looking for any bit of the old world they could find. Islanders started to call them “The Regulators” within a year, and the group flourished.

Esther and the rest of the Regulators bit off more than they could chew however, when they presented the great Kānaka chief Ikaika with a letter demanding he register his war canoe. The bill, which included 35-years worth of penalties, was considered a provocation by the chief. When Esther told him that if he didn’t like it he could move to the back of the line a short battle began.

Lives were lost on both sides but the Regulators tenacity was no match for the Kānaka’s numbers. In her younger days Esther might have fought to the end, but with years came some wisdom, and she retreated to reorganize her paperwork. Lahaina hasn’t seen any Regulator activity in decades now, but it is rumored that the group has never been stronger. Some say that they are simply adding fees and penalties to the Kānaka’s bill while continuing to license those not strong enough to fight back elsewhere on the island.

Love them or hate them, there’s no doubt that the Regulators hold an important place in the history of post-fracture Lahaina. If you manage to get a vehicle going make sure you follow the rules of the road and your paperwork is in order. The last thing you want is to see Esther in your rearview mirror.

The “Tappers” and what to do if you meet them

Lots of groups had a hand in rebuilding Lahaina and turning parts of it into the paradise it is today after the Veils fractured. Not many of those groups survived. The “Tappers” not only survived the accident and the years of chaos immediately after, but they are still going strong. Woe be to anyone with bad intentions on the island when a fog springs out of nowhere and their tapping begins.

The Tappers were formed from an unlikely alliance of highschool kids on the big day itself. Legend says that it was a clerical error that brought them together. Even though the two events weren’t expected to bring in large crowds, the scheduling of the regional science fair on the same day as the all-island tap and dance competition was a mistake. We can all be thankful that sometimes mistakes happen.

Rachel Driscol was easily the smartest student in Lahaina, maybe in all of Hawaii. Driscol’s passion was acoustics. Her successful projects won her many awards and assured her acceptance to the college of her choice. Her mistakes were painful for anyone in earshot. Luckily for Rachel and her neighbors, she rarely made mistakes. Everyone knew that she’d get a PhD in 5 years and get a job in one of Veilcorp’s advanced divisions like her mom. She had brought her greatest invention yet to the fair that day, a wearable echolocation system.

Kaholo Mae on the other hand hated school. He maintained grades just good enough to keep him eligible for his true passion, the school’s dance troupe. Anyone who had the pleasure of watching Kaholo take a rhythm or beat inside of himself and express it perfectly through his movement and grace was lucky indeed. He loved tap above all else. His Bandy Twist was amazing. His Chug, divine. Everyone, including Mae, knew that he was not long for the island. He would soon be showing off his skills on the mainland. Winning this competition was just the next step in what was going to be a fabulous career on stage. Fate can be cruel but it can also be kind. Many of the kids there that day owed their survival to the fact that the pair were in the same hallway together when the accident happened.

Rachel didn’t know how bad it was going to be, but she knew immediately that the rumblings were not good. Something about the way the air became charged let her know that something terrible was about to happen. She told Kaholo and he sprang into action. Most of the students made it into the locker room when the explosions began. Nobody knows for sure what saved those huddled kids that day, but soon they weren’t just surviving, they were thriving.

The intelligence of the science fair kids was the perfect compliment to the physical endurance of the dance students. Rachel’s ingenuity and practicality the perfect pairing to Kaholo’s charisma and motivational skills. That’s not to say that luck didn’t play a part of course. It turned out that some of the chemicals used in the making of the dance kids’ outfits had amazing antimicrobial properties. Between those that didn’t make it and trunks of extra costumes for changes, there was enough clothing for everyone. The students didn’t suffer through the diseases that afflicted many during those first few years.

Despite all odds, the kids started to become a force on the island. It turned out that the survival skills you learn as a high school outcast were just as useful in some ways as those you’d learn in the military. Over the next 10 years the teenagers did what teenagers have done throughout history and soon their numbers swelled. In 20 years everyone started calling them the Tappers. The Night Walkers and anyone who threatened the group, or tried to take their gear, learned to fear them.

They are a secretive group who usually leave others alone. They rarely trade and you have to be born a Tapper, they don’t take new members from the outside. If you find yourself in Tapper territory you are safe as long you don’t take anything and you leave in a reasonably quick manner. The last place you want to be, is inside a building or in the forest with a pack full of Tapper food when their artificial fog rolls in. They have created a number of unique items and tactics over the years that you can use to identify them besides their sparkling clothing.

One of the most frequently used pieces of Tapper equipment is the [REDACTED] are all but impossible to find. These are one of the few items that they trade freely with others, although they appear to have an advanced [REDACTED] that they keep for themselves. They will often leave a food item out with one of these for a Night Marcher patrol. A few days later a group of Tappers with [REDACTED] clear the menace out and retrieve their Judas food.

The most common thing associated with the group, and the tactic for which they are named, is their specialized acoustic visualization system. Although they have never been recovered, it is theorized that the system is a smaller, more advanced version of Rachel’s science fair project. By tapping the ground with their shoes or nearby objects with a cane, a Tapper can “see” in complete darkness out to 60 feet. This ability works in thick fog or mist as well, and it is common for at least a couple Tappers in a group to carry some sort of fog making device. These machines can fill any space with a cloud of confusion in a few seconds. This ability to operate freely while others are blind make the Tappers feared adversaries. In some areas you can actually scare away a pack of bandits by just lightly knocking on a tree.

Deadly opponents and useful allies if left alone, the Tappers are one of the most important groups on the island. It’s best to mind your manners and take a “live and let live” attitude if you find yourself in Tapper territory.

The Legend of Veilcorp’s Building FF

We Kanaka are known for our easy going lifestyle, and taking time to enjoy what nature has provided, but there is one thing we take seriously, our stories. We have many legends about others who survived the fracture including: mysterious hotels with equally mysterious guest, billionaires living in underwater shelters, and lost mines holding riches beyond gold. However, our stories about Veilcorp survivors are the most numerous and varied. Among this sea of tales, the story of Building FF rises above the rest because it might just be true.

Before the great catastrophe, when governments determined how everyone should live, and corporations tracked the hours of your day, people would study for years, struggling to make a favorable impression on these powers, in order to work for them. One of the most popular corporations to work for was Veilcorp. The company responsible for tearing the world apart, used to be thought of very favorably. People employed there were paid well and received many benefits, but it was the rumor of special perks offered to those who climbed high in the company that interested many. Free travel across the globe, discounted Nuuskin treatments to keep you looking perpetually young, and access to the latest in company technology before it was available to the public, were among the rumored blessings bestowed on anyone becoming a VP. While all of these were intriguing, it was the rumor of Building FF that piqued the interest of many inside the organization.

Born from the chaos of a terrorist attack that claimed the life of many employees, including the founder Eric Oeming’s wife and daughter, Building FF was supposed to be a place employees could go in an emergency. However, it soon became Oeming’s obsession, and with the backing of the government, the emergency shelter grew into something much more complex.

Located hundreds of meters underground with: independent water, air, and power sources, state-of-the-art filtration systems and communication technology, medical facilities, and food stores that could last for decades, Building FF was more like an underground paradise, than a place to wait out a hurricane or another attack. The exact location was classified, with only a handful of people knowing its coordinates. There were no passages leading to Building FF, protecting those inside from terrorist infiltration and any airborne toxins. The only way in or out was through a small emergency veil system located deep within the complex. When the great fracture began, many found themselves deep underground, and safe inside the Veilcorp wonderland. Unfortunately, a paradise is only as good as its creator, and we all know how fallible people can be.

Building FF was doomed from the beginning. While it protected those inside from living through the horrors and disease of the outside world, it could not guard them from the sickness of its creation and themselves. They sent out emergency calls with no response, and with the veil network down, their only way in or out was useless. Instead of panicking, they decided to take full advantage of the benefits their incredible shelter offered, and wait for help that was sure to come. A day became a week, a week became a month, and a month a year, and the cracks that had slowly been building among them grew into fissures with terrifying speed.

It is amazing at how quickly fear, anger, and jealousy can grow within a small community, and without the power of the sun, wind, and waves to wash the negativity away, the survivors in Building FF soon gave in to their darker emotions. It started as all problems do with the little things. People began to forget to seal food containers, common areas were left messy, and the employees responsible for making daily emergency calls stopped showing up. Before long, factions began to form inside, rules were made in a vain attempt to maintain order, resentments grew into accusations, and eventually revolt.

Some say that a small group of the survivors began using the others as fuel for the specially made Nuuskin machines, and they remain inside today, untouched by the ravages of time. Others claim that a few managed to connect the veil inside with one in another world or even space, sabotaging it after they left, and stranding the rest of their co-workers. Still other stories talk of cannibalism, and fabulous drilling machines. Whatever the fate of the survivors in Building FF, one thing in the stories is consistent, after 5 short years all the calls for help stopped, and the dream of the emergency paradise was over.

Still, with more and more new faces appearing on the island and some of the network running again, stories about Building FF are gaining popularity. There is talk about the rumbling of machines inside the ground near The Augustinian Cliffs, and places in the forest charged with so much energy that your hair stands on end. Some warn that these are signs that the survivors are getting ready to unleash their technology once again on the world. Others say the survivors are like animals who have lived in cages for too long, and are not able to enjoy the taste of freedom anymore. Rumors circulate that Building FF holds many treasures for those smart enough to find it, and foolish enough to tempt its curse, and the tainted people who might still live in its twisting tunnels. Whatever the truth, the story of Building FF remains a mystery for now, but who knows what the future might hold.

Pana and the Lahaina Armory

The Kanaka believe that everyone is given the same two things when they are born. The world gives you a purpose and your ancestors give you a special skill. As you work your way through life, it is your job to discover your purpose and to cultivate your skill. It is not easy. In fact, it is one of the hardest parts of life. Often your purpose and your skill don’t have anything to do with one another. Many lose their way while trying to find their purpose. Some never get a chance to practice their skill before it is time to rejoin their ancestors, leading to much anger and discontent. However, A rare few seem to have a special insight and know from an early age what their life should look like and what they should do. Auntie Pana is one such person. Her purpose in life is to provide those around her with the tools necessary to protect themselves and the ones they love, and her skill is gunsmithing.

Before the fracture the building we all know now as The Armory was a museum. There people could look at ancient artifacts and learn not just the history of the islands but of other places and cultures as well. It is where Pana’s parents met, worked, and fell in love. It was also their sanctuary after the accident. The Armory’s strong walls and roof allowed it to survive the chaos while other structures were laid to waste. Being a museum, it was not at the top of the list for looting, so Pana’s parents didn’t have to worry about bandits or desperate survivors. There probably isn’t a perfect place to try and ride out the end of a civilization, but her mother thought this was as close as they were going to get. Her parents gathered all their surviving extended family and tried to make new lives for themselves.

Pana was different from other children, her sister Oki included. While her sister delighted in picking flowers to decorate the halls, and hearing tales of great battles and heroes, before going to the beach to look for shark teeth, Pana was more reserved. She would spend her days inside learning how things worked and building herself toys from broken or discarded gear. Above all, she loved her grandfather’s old revolver and was never found without it. Her father worried that such an item was inappropriate or dangerous for someone so young, but her mother reassured him that it hadn’t worked since she herself was a little girl and they didn’t have any bullets. Since it seemed to give her so much comfort they agreed to let her have it. While most girls her age had a favorite blanket or doll to help them go to sleep, Pana tucked the revolver beneath her pillow every night before drifting off. It was one such night that Pana’s skill first revealed itself.

Her father was awoken by a noise coming from outside. A team of deadly forest boars were rooting and tearing through the family garden. Her father ran to awaken the rest of the family to try and drive the beasts off and save their food. Just as he was gathering the spears they would need he heard a gunshot. Fearing that bandits were attacking he began to barricade the front door when he noticed little Pana slip through a window. In her hand she held her grandfather’s smoking revolver, “I topped da boes fum eating our food daddy,” she proudly proclaimed.

The adults cautiously went to the garden only to find a large boar with one clean hole directly in the shoulder; the perfect place to drop the creature. At barely 4, Pana had not only fixed the gun but had made a handful of cartridges. At her father’s urging, Pana showed him the tools she had made including a reloading press constructed from a bike pump and an old waffle iron. Amazed at her ingenuity and talent, the family began to indulge the girl’s desire to learn and innovate. Not to be outdone by her sister, Oki proved to be remarkable in her own right, becoming a master of the more traditional arms of the islands.

While her sister’s creations are full of flourish and intricate designs, Auntie Pana has become a master of no frills precision and dependable mechanics. In contrast to the well kept and immaculately decorated rooms of The Armory run by her sister, Pana’s workshop in a hodgepodge of tools, partially completed projects, and “items of promise”. Oki often quips that her sister is “a ballistic goddess, not a domestic one.” But her abilities and skill are no joke. Her tree cannons are well known on the island and feared by bandits and creatures of the fracture alike. Her internalized cocking mechanisms are ingenious. Her automatic ejector systems are divine. Pana learned her purpose at a very young age and has been honing her skills for over 50 years now. There is no better place to buy a weapon on the island than The Armory, and there is no better gunsmith than Auntie Pana.

How The Mission Became a Sanctuary for All After the Fracture

There are a number of buildings that survived the great accident. The comm tower, the veil station, and the power plant all offer those who survived a reminder of how the world once was. None of them are held as dear as The Mission, however. Once a place of quiet contemplation, The Mission was vital in the battles that drove most of the horrors out of this part of the island. In the years since the fracture, it has served as a sanctuary for those in need, a place of healing, and a symbol of what can be accomplished when we work together.

Known as Maluhia or The Place of Peace to the Kānaka, The Mission offered seekers of serenity and knowledge a refuge before the Fracture. It was only natural that survivors sought shelter and safety there. For many years Maluhia served as a place of healing for the people. There the greatest Kānaka herbalists and healers practiced their craft. Whether it be a fever, a broken bone, or something more serious, you could find relief at The Mission. Countless lives were saved there, and not just those of the Kānaka.

The Place of Peace was open to all who needed help and served as an embassy of sorts. When one of the many veil storms threw the great cruise ship against the rocks, the survivors sought refuge there. They traded books, their knowledge, and their stories for food and shelter. Eventually, they formed a school and taught many of our children the power of words and ideas. A group of them reside there still today. While we all seek peace, it is sometimes hard to secure and the island was becoming more dangerous.

The horrors born from the explosion were gaining strength and growing quickly. Night Marchers and Trophy Hunters prowled the trails, the Menehune scurried through the rubble, and the Green Ladies haunted the forests, hungry for blood. The people feared leaving the safety of the village, and they were losing hope. It was then that the great chief Ikaika began to gather the people to fight back. He gathered a great number of Kānaka warriors to battle against the creatures. He formed an alliance with the Thrivers on the hill and the people to the North. Together, the army of Ikaika cleared much of the island and made its way to Black Rock Beach.

The fighting there was terrible and lasted for days. Hundreds lost their lives, and so many were injured that The Mission was overflowing. It was then that Ikaika decided to turn away all who were not Kānaka. Many Kānaka survived that day because of that decision, but as the people were treated, we watched the bodies of our allies pile up outside. Eventually, the Thriver’s commander Colonel Kaua arrived and demanded we treat his people. With his elite band of Koa behind him, Ikaka thanked the Colonel for his bravery but said there were too many injured Kānaka to worry about the lives of Thrivers. He told Kaua to take his wounded and go in peace. The Thrivers were angry.

While most of the monsters had been eradicated, tensions between the people and the other groups on the island grew. The Thrivers refused to trade. Soon there was no ammunition, and when machines broke there were no replacement parts. The people of the North would no longer exchange food for medicines and nets. It wasn’t long before the first skirmish broke out and a scout returned to the Mission with a Thriver bullet in his shoulder. Ikaika may have cleansed the island of the evil the Fracture had spawned but he had made new enemies. The Kānaka could now walk the roads without worrying about Night Marchers, but we walked them alone.

The people began to worry. We had beat back the hordes only with the help of those we had turned our backs on. If the creatures grew in strength again would we be able to fight them off alone? The future seemed uncertain and dangerous, but Ikaika was given a second chance.

The colonel arrived at the mission one day flanked with a large group of Thriver soldiers. At first, the people thought they had come to attack and Kānaka warriors filled the courtyard with spear and koa axe in hand. It was then that the people saw the colonel was holding his son in his arms. The boy had been attacked by Trophy Collectors while on a scouting run and his blood was now tainted with their disease. They had tried for days to cleanse him of the poison but he continued to get worse.

Ikaka listened to Kaua’s story and stopped him before he could finish his plea. He said, “Of course we will do what we can for someone as brave as your son. Sometimes the hardest battle for warriors such as us is learning to live in peace. I made an enemy when I didn’t need to. I beg that you forgive me for my decision to turn you away. From this day forward The Mission will be open to all who need sanctuary or healing. This will be a place of peace for us all.”

And so it has been since that day. Kaua’s son was saved and teaches those interested in learning the way of the warrior near Pu’u. The descendants of the cruise ship survivors have come back and all are now welcome as the great chief promised. I spend my days telling our stories and teaching the lessons of our history, ensuring that we never forget the power of peace and cooperation.

Bruddah Lee
Kanaka Historian

Chief Ikaika’s Speech before the battle of Black Rock Beach

For a thousand years our people lived in harmony with the island and the spirits. We drank from her waters, ate the fish in the sea, and grew plants in her soil. But we started to turn our backs on the island and ignore her laws. She was disappointed and warned us but we wouldn’t listen. Then we broke a rule too large for her to ignore. We decided her fundamental laws did not matter when we started using the Veil, and she had no choice but to discipline us.

She cleansed the island by turning the symbol of our arrogance against us. The explosions leveled many structures and the radiation killed thousands in town as well as many of her lesser children in the jungle. But we are the Kānaka, and we understand that we must atone for breaking her rules. She chose to spare us and test our hearts. We are strong. Our bodies could take the scars and the warping that she had punished us with. Our hearts stayed filled with love for the island and her wisdom. Some were not powerful enough to survive her twisting, and their bodies broke. The mutants and their kind let fear and hate fill their hearts and they turned into monsters. But we are the Kānaka and we survived to rebuild our lives.

Like all good mothers, the island knew her children. She knew it was in our nature to break her rules. There are some who say that we must not use any machines, and turn our back on the technology that we put above our island mother, but that is not true. It was the Veil she hated and took from us for our own good. She wants our children to drink cold Manimal while they ride their bikes. She wants us to see movies with our friends once again, and check our phones during the slow parts. She wants us to eat food cooked in a microwave, and put our plates into a machine to clean them. She wants us to live again once our punishment is over. We are the Kānaka, and we want those things too.

We do not have to do this alone. Through this long campaign, we have learned that she has loaned us the aid of her lesser children. The boars in the jungle tear through our enemies with noble tusks, punishing those who let the darkness overcome them. The sharks devour them if they try and swim out past the reef. Many of us have seen the island herself swallow up our adversaries and cleanse them with fire. They have no totems, the spirits are with us too.

Even the treacherous Thrivers of the hills have joined our cause. I have passed on some of the island’s wisdom and taught them how to farm. I have told them our stories, and have learned theirs. We share food, rai, and the truth of what the island must become in order to redeem ourselves. They have pledged their guns, tricks, and blood to our crusade. We are all united behind my totem.

I have gathered the hundreds of you here from across the island. You are the best and the bravest of us and now our work is almost done. We are the Kānaka and we will claim our home again. With the Thrivers’ help, we have pushed the monsters South from Kaelekii point. Side by side with the creatures of the jungle we have driven the Green Ladies and their minions West from Kealii gulch. I have personally driven the cannibals North from the city center with the help of my elite band of Koa.

These assorted horrors stand now at Black Rock Beach with our shark bruddahs swimming hungrily in the surf. It will be dawn in a few hours. It will be the last sunrise our enemies will ever see. With our allies’ help, we will defeat the twisted evil that is awaiting us. With the sun on our backs and love in our hearts, we will cleanse this part of the island and live like our mother wants us to. We are the Kānaka and we will win.