The Storyteller could see the eyes of the class glaze over, their attention reduced to embers. He decided on a change of pace. “I know history can be boring. Some of you may never be interested in it and that’s alright. But it is so important to know why things are the way that they are now. Do any of you remember how we first settled Altus II?”
One of the kids from the left began to read from his textbook, boredom seeping from every word: “In the Old Era, the human clans of our home planet Earth encountered the first-“
“In your own words please.”
“Uh. The Earthy Stars-“
“Earthen Sons!” interrupted a girl from the back. “The Earthen Sons wanted a fight!”
The Storyteller smiled. “Yes, we’re getting to that part. See, in those days, humans were still fairly new to being afraid. Many of them saw a challenge in every obstacle, a reward to every risk.”
“Well that’s stupid,” chimed a student from the very back row. “It’s amazing they lasted as long as they did.”
“It was admirable, really. Your predecessors accomplished so much so quickly because of it. But I digress. There are logs of some humans from even before The First Parlay who would stockpile supplies and weapons, bracing for - or rather yearning for - various apocalypses that never came. Unfortunately, The Earthen Sons were no different other than in their organization.
When we first established contact with an alien race, we looked to the stars with hope in our eyes, apprehension clouded by relief that in this vast ocean, we weren’t alone. The Sons, meanwhile, grumbled and took to the streets, protesting any attempt at dialogue much less technological exchanges.”
“What a load of steam. Just holding everyone else back.”
“Well that’s not very fair. To them, the unknown was a terrifying place, and rightly so. Any minor move could have been a step toward annihilation. Imagine if, say, the Svortuk found them first. If they tried to continue communicating, we wouldn’t be here to have this conversation today.”
“Were we so lucky,” grumbled a voice from the middle of the shelter.
“I heard that.”
“Sorry, Storyteller. Please continue.”
“Humans soon learned that we were a minuscule part of a larger empire, claimed by entities we had yet to lay eyes upon.”
“The Others!” a student yelled excitedly.
“Yes. Some people pictured them as insects, others imagined spacefaring mollusks, and many simply thought of them as almost human.” He had to pause while they laughed, some mimicking finger antennas on their heads, others pretending to swim through an imaginary ocean with pulsating limbs. He smiled at the thought of how glad he was that these references weren’t lost on the children.
When they settled down, he bagan again. “The Sons saw The Others as a threat to their independence, an affront to their liberty, a faceless guard placing shackles upon humanity’s feet. And when it became clear that the Others merely saw us as an out-of-the-way curiosity back then, too distant to mine for resources but intriguing enough to maintain contact, the Sons took this as an insult. And no one could have guessed what they were planning.
“That awful attack got the attention of The Others instantly. They did not yet understand then that humans thought differently from one another, that differences in opinion existed. They saw the attack as a declaration of war and they acted accordingly. Leviathans - that’s what we call the Others’ living ships, appeared at the periphery of our old solar system. Their response lasted less than two New Era minutes, and with no more effort for the Others than us swatting at an annoying insect. A tiny portion of one of Sol’s own asteroid belts was redirected at Earth and that’s all it took to destabilize Earth’s orbit. Not that anyone would have survived the impact anyway.”
The children merely sat with their eyes downcast, but obviously paying close attention. The Storyteller knew they had little reason to feel attached to the early humans even if they descended from them. Too much of daily life now would be completely unrecognizable to the ancestors anyway. But the halfhearted elimination of over 99% of a sentient species - as well as countless other innocent species sharing the planet - is still sobering to think about.
“The few Wanderer ships soon held the only life known to Earth. That is where our Forefathers established what we know of humanity today. The handful of ships were afraid of being hunted down until the last Earthlife perished. But the Others are straightforward beings. The attack came from Earth, so Earth was removed. The ships were as interesting as space debris. They saw no threat.”
“How did we become friends then.”
“Well, ‘friends’ isn’t really the correct term but it took a very long time to get to where we are now. We understand the Others a little better and their logic behind the attack in the moment became impossible to argue with. Little more than a reflex of scratching an itch. Likewise, they are now at least somewhat comprehending that humans are a spectrum rather than a singular mind. And if it wasn’t for them, the Svortuk would have already eaten at least a portion of our known galaxy.
“See, we thought we knew war, knew fear. But we couldn’t even comprehend back then just how little we mattered.”
ToWriteTheseWrongs t1_iy47jt4 wrote
Reply to [WP]"War? You do not yet know war. You are a child who has tasted their first autumn frost and called it winter." by Melkain
The Storyteller could see the eyes of the class glaze over, their attention reduced to embers. He decided on a change of pace. “I know history can be boring. Some of you may never be interested in it and that’s alright. But it is so important to know why things are the way that they are now. Do any of you remember how we first settled Altus II?”
One of the kids from the left began to read from his textbook, boredom seeping from every word: “In the Old Era, the human clans of our home planet Earth encountered the first-“
“In your own words please.”
“Uh. The Earthy Stars-“
“Earthen Sons!” interrupted a girl from the back. “The Earthen Sons wanted a fight!”
The Storyteller smiled. “Yes, we’re getting to that part. See, in those days, humans were still fairly new to being afraid. Many of them saw a challenge in every obstacle, a reward to every risk.”
“Well that’s stupid,” chimed a student from the very back row. “It’s amazing they lasted as long as they did.”
“It was admirable, really. Your predecessors accomplished so much so quickly because of it. But I digress. There are logs of some humans from even before The First Parlay who would stockpile supplies and weapons, bracing for - or rather yearning for - various apocalypses that never came. Unfortunately, The Earthen Sons were no different other than in their organization.
When we first established contact with an alien race, we looked to the stars with hope in our eyes, apprehension clouded by relief that in this vast ocean, we weren’t alone. The Sons, meanwhile, grumbled and took to the streets, protesting any attempt at dialogue much less technological exchanges.”
“What a load of steam. Just holding everyone else back.”
“Well that’s not very fair. To them, the unknown was a terrifying place, and rightly so. Any minor move could have been a step toward annihilation. Imagine if, say, the Svortuk found them first. If they tried to continue communicating, we wouldn’t be here to have this conversation today.”
“Were we so lucky,” grumbled a voice from the middle of the shelter.
“I heard that.”
“Sorry, Storyteller. Please continue.”
“Humans soon learned that we were a minuscule part of a larger empire, claimed by entities we had yet to lay eyes upon.”
“The Others!” a student yelled excitedly.
“Yes. Some people pictured them as insects, others imagined spacefaring mollusks, and many simply thought of them as almost human.” He had to pause while they laughed, some mimicking finger antennas on their heads, others pretending to swim through an imaginary ocean with pulsating limbs. He smiled at the thought of how glad he was that these references weren’t lost on the children.
When they settled down, he bagan again. “The Sons saw The Others as a threat to their independence, an affront to their liberty, a faceless guard placing shackles upon humanity’s feet. And when it became clear that the Others merely saw us as an out-of-the-way curiosity back then, too distant to mine for resources but intriguing enough to maintain contact, the Sons took this as an insult. And no one could have guessed what they were planning.
“That awful attack got the attention of The Others instantly. They did not yet understand then that humans thought differently from one another, that differences in opinion existed. They saw the attack as a declaration of war and they acted accordingly. Leviathans - that’s what we call the Others’ living ships, appeared at the periphery of our old solar system. Their response lasted less than two New Era minutes, and with no more effort for the Others than us swatting at an annoying insect. A tiny portion of one of Sol’s own asteroid belts was redirected at Earth and that’s all it took to destabilize Earth’s orbit. Not that anyone would have survived the impact anyway.”
The children merely sat with their eyes downcast, but obviously paying close attention. The Storyteller knew they had little reason to feel attached to the early humans even if they descended from them. Too much of daily life now would be completely unrecognizable to the ancestors anyway. But the halfhearted elimination of over 99% of a sentient species - as well as countless other innocent species sharing the planet - is still sobering to think about.
“The few Wanderer ships soon held the only life known to Earth. That is where our Forefathers established what we know of humanity today. The handful of ships were afraid of being hunted down until the last Earthlife perished. But the Others are straightforward beings. The attack came from Earth, so Earth was removed. The ships were as interesting as space debris. They saw no threat.”
“How did we become friends then.”
“Well, ‘friends’ isn’t really the correct term but it took a very long time to get to where we are now. We understand the Others a little better and their logic behind the attack in the moment became impossible to argue with. Little more than a reflex of scratching an itch. Likewise, they are now at least somewhat comprehending that humans are a spectrum rather than a singular mind. And if it wasn’t for them, the Svortuk would have already eaten at least a portion of our known galaxy.
“See, we thought we knew war, knew fear. But we couldn’t even comprehend back then just how little we mattered.”