[h2][b][center]Six Months Later[/center][/b][/h2] Earth: the dead, empty husk of what once played host to endless civilizations, innumerable peoples, infinite faiths and countless philosophies. Where humanity first took its faltering steps. Where societies first came together, rose up, and then crashed into the dust. Where our home was. But it's all ashes now, gray and still. Sorrowful. The year, if you mark your calendar from the Fall of Earth, has ticked over to 301. It's been three centuries since those who would become the Colonists were cast out from Earth, like seed thrown from the farmer's hand. And now only six months since they reached across the void and found each other once again. And now they're all arguing. No, no, that's not the word for it. They're [i]conducting diplomacy[/i]. They've been trying to for six months, that is, but there are so many Colonies that they cannot all possibly meet eachother one-on-one. And who knows how many more may come? The Gateways are still opening... With this in mind, a neutral starbase has been constructed, named the [b]Meeting Place[/b], and expanded upon by many breeds of mankind to have found their way home so far. It's a beautiful mongrel of a station, gigantic and strange, and an event is being held onboard it. In order to avoid any future confusion, all known colonies have been invited to send representatives. Some may not, but of those who do, they will create an official 'description' of their Colony, as they have become since the end of humanity's first birthplace. These descriptions will be recorded, and from there, all Colonies can be considered to know and recognize each other. A kind of first contact, en masse. [hr] [center][b]~~~~~~~~[/b][/center] [hr] [right][sub][i](Addressing: Everyone!)[/i][/sub][/right] [right][sub][i][Starring: Tanaka][/i][/sub][/right] An alarm goes off on Tanaka's infopad, making him frown. He never liked these things. Afterall, Old Earth didn't have them. And they aren't nice, like holograms. They never speak to you; not even once has his infopad told him to have a nice day. Not even once! How rude is that for a computer? Like these Zetans. They're computers, too, or they mostly are. He hasn't met one yet, but he had a chance to speak to Abadi about her experiences with them, and they don't seem nice at all. He'll have to talk to some soon, he knows that, because- "Welcome, Liason Tanaka!" Is that a better or worse title than Oligarch? Heralds called it a promotion, at least. "I prefer Cowboy," he jokes. The woman welcoming him, a non-Oligarch who's kicked and clawed to get to this position he's so uncertain about, laughs along. There's a space up ahead, in this part of the Meeting Place largely constructed by the ECU. Holograms flicker in and out of being, appearing when needed, vanishing when not. And flying cameras hover around, eager to record the new Liason Tanaka's first words. New Hollywood is attending the Event, of course. Oligarchs never turn down an invitation. "[b]Humans of the Galaxy[/b]," the young man begins, finally actualizing the words he's practiced so many times. "[b]I am here on behalf of the Earth Cultural Union. We are a league of mankind, dedicated to preserving the cultures, ways and forms of our great ancestors. We believe in the potential of humanity, but also in respect for our true nature. We believe in the ways of our lost home, and also in the reality of our present situation. If you will hear us, we will work with you, to revitalize all that has been forgotten. To keep the torch of Earth burning bright even through this long night. To stand against the darkness, and not forget who we are. Thank you.[/b]" That description will soon be recorded in the databanks of the Meeting Place, and sent out to all other nations who participate in this Event. Even now, the ECU is also hearing the introductions of other Colonies, both friends and strangers. And enemies. The time of first contacts is over. Even Tanaka realizes. It is time for the action to begin. [center][b]~~~~~~~~[/b][/center] [right][sub][i][Starring: Heralds][/i][/sub][/right] Savant Heralds is smiling. This in itself is usually a bad thing, but the context makes it even more dubious. New Hollywood is covered in old ruins from a bygone civilization: the Bezians. They built from a variety of materials, like mankind, but eons have rotted all of them away but the very strongest. Metal alloys are pulled from the scrapped buildings, vehicles, and structures. Not all of it is in good condition, but if centuries of doing this has taught the ECU anything, it's how to refurbish. And [i]that's[/i] why Heralds is smiling. He's speaking to a crowd in front of him, too. A throng of a throng of curious citizens, standing in the crowded streets of Neo London, pushing each other for spots and trying to avoid the gaze of agitated protectors. The Savant is telling them how another useless, foreign old city has finally been cleared out of everyone's view- always good news- but this time, trust him, it's even greater. Now, that alien old city is being put to a true purpose again. It's bones were melted down, refurbished, and at last fixed into the shape of the [b]First Stand[/b]: a brand new fleet of space-worthy ships. The only one in New Hollywood's history, at all, to sit in orbit around this world. A historic moment! The crowd cheers. Heralds does not mention, of course, that the design of these ships is nothing noteworthy. In fact, they were almost completely copied from Old Earth data. He realizes that any other Colony who still remembers their past will recognize this engineering. And of course, the materials are less-than-perfect. The Noocracy puts a positive spin on these unfortunate facts: "Already," Heralds' projected voice booms out through the streets below his feet, and indeed across the entire world, "we have the kind of vessels that [i]have not been since the Fall of our Mother Earth.[/i]" The crowd cries out again, stretching Heralds' proud grin further across his face. The real upshot is that, although the ships may be simple and cheap, they really were made with astounding speed. An estimated one million Bezian buildings were scrapped to create them. Never before has the ECU been so lucky to live in the trash of another civilization. "Our wonderful Protectors," he keeps on, "the long-time defenders of our ways of life, have volunteered to lead these ships into battle. Thousands of them have. We have selected the best of the best, and they'll be the ones to protect us- from the stars!" Although his right arm waves dramatically to the sky, this is really more mediocre news. The protectors are dedicated, aggressive, and on average, half as smart as a particularly stupid brick. They will surely make relentless killers in one-on-one combat, as they were indoctrinated for. But in the cerebral strategy of space combat? Well... it's a good thing they're easy to replace. The ships and the protectors both. [b][center]~~~~~~~~[/center][/b] [right][sub][i](Addressing: [@Irredeemable])[/i][/sub][/right] "You will not enter our territory. You will not approach us outside of the Meeting Place. You will interact with no New Hollywood citizens. You will offer no implants, nor will you attempt to spread the influence of such devices to the ECU or her allies. If these demands are not followed, we will consider all methods at our disposal, including naval action." These are just the last few lines of a message sent via probe into the Zetan system, but they contain the flavor of the whole. It's a threat, plain and simple. In their own internal councils, the Oligarchs have already decided there can be no peace- even an unsteady one- with creatures like the cyborgs. They pretend to be humans, but they are no longer. So an example has to be set, for all the other Colonies, and for those generations who may come later. To show that this kind of modification is inexcusable, unacceptable, a bridge too far. They are not declaring war, but they are playing at dominance. True humans must have power over the machines. And the Galaxy must witness it. [b][center]~~~~~~~~[/center][/b] [right][sub][i](Addressing: [@Raylah])[/i][/sub][/right] [right][sub][i][Starring: Abadi][/i][/sub][/right] "Guardian Kelsie," Abadi sent her message through the Gateway towards Ellara. In the last 6 months, many Colonies have learned to contact one another in this way. "The ECU is desirous of another meeting between ourselves and the Undefeated, and as you and I have met previously, I was chosen to propose it. You will, of course, remember our discussion with the Zetans." She was talking around the issue, as most Oligarchs do. "During that conversation, certain philosophical questions were raised. About humanity." She leans into the recording device, almost desperately. "In these last several months, those questions have become far more practical. The Zetans, we believe, may attempt to act on their views. But if I remember, your own views were much more similar to mine. Perhaps you and I should have another conversation." For anyone smart enough to read through the lines, as Abadi really hoped Kelsie was, the meaning was clear. The Noocracy is spooked about the Zetans, (even though the ECU may be the aggressors) and they want back-up. "Oh," she adds, in a lighter tone. "And I have some more positive personal news. In our next meeting, I will be [i]Oligarch [/i]Abadi." Her Justification had not destroyed her.