"We knew the world would not be the same. Few people laughed, few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form and says, 'Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.' I suppose we all thought that, one way or another." - J. Robert Oppenheimer
There are stories about the origins of humanity. The given one, the one forwarded by the inquisitors, was that we were born amongst the stars and united into a coalition to form a single-minded collection of people. Some, however, know the truth of the matter - humanity wasn't born amongst the stars, they were born on the ground, crawling and climbing like the beasts that the inquisitors so diligently place themselves above. Our home was planet Earth, a little blue dot in a solar system on the outer rim of the Milky Way.
It was our home until we ravaged it with bombs and wars. A third world war began and nothing else followed. For the nations that weren't completely obliterated, Earth was quickly becoming uninhabitable. Weather patterns seemed to shift radically and it appeared that a winter was beginning that would finally snuff out the small flame of mankind. But we're a resourceful people and before we were wiped out entirely, we engineered some of the greatest machines in history - the Exodus ships. The ships were massive, more massive than anything mankind has built to date, and could house hundreds of thousands of people. Seven of them were made and launched into the deep abyss of space. Three reached their destinations and the other four seemed to disappear entirely.
New homes were found, colonised and made fit for humanity's survival. These new homes became Capital Worlds and from them, mankind jumped into the future, becoming an interstellar species. Great constructions called gravity anchors were dropped, allowing for rapid travel between star systems. We found enemies and friends yet through it all, we seemed to constantly edge forward, inch by inch.
That's where our story begins: the newly created Port Hope, the biggest space-station ever made by mankind, constructed to not only serve as a midway for trade ships but to house a large population. Although the port was controlled by the Inquisitors, a group of Zealots who fiercely upheld the idea of humanity being an interstellar species, life was good on it. It was a hub of trade and activity and most people were prosperous. All except you maggots, of course. Juvvies, they called you or the idiots that somehow ended up in juvenile detention for the rest of their childhood. The only reason you weren't executed like the rest of those caught by the law was because the law wanted to appear at least a little bit human. You turn eighteen, you get a repeat hearing and more often than not, you are taken out and executed. It doesn't matter your sin - murder or theft, rape or simply not being the same, you all end the same.
You got the wrong end of the stick with life and it's about to be cut short very soon. Or maybe, we could remember what it was to be human again. Maybe you lot might just have a chance? You'll just have to run when I say so.
And though you be done to the death, what then?
If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he's slow or spry,
It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,
But only how did you die?
- Edmund Vance Cooke - How Did You Die?
Chatzy
