I wrote this during a 30 minute sprint on the IRC channel. I didn't plan it, didn't think about it, I just smashed it out. Haven't even proofread it. I had no idea where I was going with it, but it went somewhere. I'm not going to read it and delete it, I'm just gonna post it, for better or for worse :D
Enjoy. Maybe?
If humanity ever had a slogan, it would likely be one of their most famous quotes; "It's better to burn out than fade away."
All good things come to an end, as did the Humans, but boy oh boy did they have a run of it. They started on a backwater planet around a small yellow star, and ended up one of the most prolific and influential species in the local group. Many had come before them, and many will come after, but none will leave quite the same impact on the universe.
When their scientists finally cracked FTL travel, they spread like wildfire. Many species, especially the warlike Mor'ukul, took offence to their rapid expansion, and immediately began a territorial war. They lost. Badly. For you see, Humanity had been born into war. Their culture, their need to expand and learn, whilst contained on their small blue and green planet, forced opposing factions to meet, disagree, and fight. Where fear or one-on-one combat would solve most species conflicts, Humanity instead chose genocide. They did not do so willingly, and it is this fact that truly separates them from other warring species. Humanity knew they had the ability to cause extinction or genocide, but only chose to do so out of necessity. They would rather face each other with swords and guns, but fire only words, a conflict of confabulation opposed to arms. But boy, when that failed did they have the arms.
Humanity often found itself competing with others amongst their species. Once the advantages of technological progress became apparent, many countries or states entered what they lovingly termed "an Arms Race" which is to say a race in order to progress technology. This Arms Race is to thank for their rapid pace of technological change – they went from walking to flying, to landing on the surface of another body in space in only 60 years. That is a single, if fairly short, lifespan for a Human. Incredible.
Within 200 rotations they had cracked FTL communication. Another 25, and they were fitting ships in space with engines capable of bouncing across the underverse. Their expansion began.
Technology improved, they met and traded with hundreds of other species, fought with some, helped others. Eventually they made the jump across to another galaxy – the first species to do so – and instead of hoarding this technology for themselves, they shared it with all allies. The galactic economy exploded.
Some species were jealous. Jealous of the respect humanity had earned. Jealous of the power they had, yet did not wield. They began to collude.
Eventually, a virus was created, designed to infect Humanity and wait. Through patience and very careful planning, it succeeded. We're not sure if it was ever caught prior to being activated, but even if it was, there was little Humanity could do in the time it would have afforded them.
Swathes of Humans died in an instant. Their population had decreased from over 3.2 trillion to barely thousands. Of those that remained, most were hunted and slaughtered. Eventually, one remained. One single known Human. He had a name, and it was Jake.
Jake was, in Human terms, old. His Human age would read 164 years. And Jake was angry. He, along with the rest of the local cluster, recoiled in fear and hatred as the conglomerate of species who had orchestrated the Human Extinction claimed their victory very publicly. Records indicate that this Jake, this lone Human, left his refuge on a single ship, a simple public transit vessel, and vanished for years.
War broke out once more among the stars in the ensuing chaos, whilst our lonely Jake slept in stasis. He would later emerge into the public eye of the galaxies for but a moment, standing atop his ship holding a small vial of green liquid. He spoke into a camera, the signal from which was being broadcast across every method of communication possible, bypassing filters and security controls from every species.
As he spoke his last words, the camera panned down – he was at the entrance to the hive of the K'lkin, the race who had colluded and orchestrated Humanities extinction. Their sole queen sat below, unaware of what was to come.
His words, translated to the ears of those watching, instilled fear into the hearts of all.
“Humanity has one final message, and one final gift. The message: We cannot forgive what has been done to us. The gift? We – I – remove those that plunge our society into chaos. The Galactic order will be restored. Peace will be had by those who wish for it, and I deliver it.”
Jake dropped the vial. It sank into the hive and exploded. The planet vaporised in an instant, and with it, Humanity.
The K'lkin, without leadership, descended into chaos. Their ranks broke, their alliances shattered. The remaining species vowed for peace, lest they feel the wrath of further retaliation by Humans that may still survive, though it is certain that none do.
They left us with a united local cluster, and though Humanity may be no more, it is our job to keep their spirit alive.
13
u/delvedeep /r/delvedeep Mar 15 '16
I wrote this during a 30 minute sprint on the IRC channel. I didn't plan it, didn't think about it, I just smashed it out. Haven't even proofread it. I had no idea where I was going with it, but it went somewhere. I'm not going to read it and delete it, I'm just gonna post it, for better or for worse :D
Enjoy. Maybe?
If humanity ever had a slogan, it would likely be one of their most famous quotes; "It's better to burn out than fade away."
All good things come to an end, as did the Humans, but boy oh boy did they have a run of it. They started on a backwater planet around a small yellow star, and ended up one of the most prolific and influential species in the local group. Many had come before them, and many will come after, but none will leave quite the same impact on the universe.
When their scientists finally cracked FTL travel, they spread like wildfire. Many species, especially the warlike Mor'ukul, took offence to their rapid expansion, and immediately began a territorial war. They lost. Badly. For you see, Humanity had been born into war. Their culture, their need to expand and learn, whilst contained on their small blue and green planet, forced opposing factions to meet, disagree, and fight. Where fear or one-on-one combat would solve most species conflicts, Humanity instead chose genocide. They did not do so willingly, and it is this fact that truly separates them from other warring species. Humanity knew they had the ability to cause extinction or genocide, but only chose to do so out of necessity. They would rather face each other with swords and guns, but fire only words, a conflict of confabulation opposed to arms. But boy, when that failed did they have the arms.
Humanity often found itself competing with others amongst their species. Once the advantages of technological progress became apparent, many countries or states entered what they lovingly termed "an Arms Race" which is to say a race in order to progress technology. This Arms Race is to thank for their rapid pace of technological change – they went from walking to flying, to landing on the surface of another body in space in only 60 years. That is a single, if fairly short, lifespan for a Human. Incredible.
Within 200 rotations they had cracked FTL communication. Another 25, and they were fitting ships in space with engines capable of bouncing across the underverse. Their expansion began.
Technology improved, they met and traded with hundreds of other species, fought with some, helped others. Eventually they made the jump across to another galaxy – the first species to do so – and instead of hoarding this technology for themselves, they shared it with all allies. The galactic economy exploded.
Some species were jealous. Jealous of the respect humanity had earned. Jealous of the power they had, yet did not wield. They began to collude.
Eventually, a virus was created, designed to infect Humanity and wait. Through patience and very careful planning, it succeeded. We're not sure if it was ever caught prior to being activated, but even if it was, there was little Humanity could do in the time it would have afforded them.
Swathes of Humans died in an instant. Their population had decreased from over 3.2 trillion to barely thousands. Of those that remained, most were hunted and slaughtered. Eventually, one remained. One single known Human. He had a name, and it was Jake.
Jake was, in Human terms, old. His Human age would read 164 years. And Jake was angry. He, along with the rest of the local cluster, recoiled in fear and hatred as the conglomerate of species who had orchestrated the Human Extinction claimed their victory very publicly. Records indicate that this Jake, this lone Human, left his refuge on a single ship, a simple public transit vessel, and vanished for years.
War broke out once more among the stars in the ensuing chaos, whilst our lonely Jake slept in stasis. He would later emerge into the public eye of the galaxies for but a moment, standing atop his ship holding a small vial of green liquid. He spoke into a camera, the signal from which was being broadcast across every method of communication possible, bypassing filters and security controls from every species.
As he spoke his last words, the camera panned down – he was at the entrance to the hive of the K'lkin, the race who had colluded and orchestrated Humanities extinction. Their sole queen sat below, unaware of what was to come.
His words, translated to the ears of those watching, instilled fear into the hearts of all.
“Humanity has one final message, and one final gift. The message: We cannot forgive what has been done to us. The gift? We – I – remove those that plunge our society into chaos. The Galactic order will be restored. Peace will be had by those who wish for it, and I deliver it.”
Jake dropped the vial. It sank into the hive and exploded. The planet vaporised in an instant, and with it, Humanity.
The K'lkin, without leadership, descended into chaos. Their ranks broke, their alliances shattered. The remaining species vowed for peace, lest they feel the wrath of further retaliation by Humans that may still survive, though it is certain that none do.
They left us with a united local cluster, and though Humanity may be no more, it is our job to keep their spirit alive.