Entered for consideration and thought on 3/21/2018
{working rough notes)
The A.C.E. Poenix, the only colonization ship still existing in Ursa Major System was running out of time. It had long surpassed all conceivable design aspects having been only engineered to shepherd colonists in hibernating sleep to their new worlds, to land and be cannibalized to set and establish modern and advanced cities. Instead it had become a heavenly body in orbit around Sliinkaa, populated now by several generations of clones from the original staff and captain of the vessel in the wake of dispatching its holds of colonists bellow centuries ago. A floating jewel in the sky by night, and ominous shadow by day, letting all bellow know that those with higher power were watching. Watching in a self imposed station of being 'Gods' for the simple fact that they held the pinnacle of technology.
Yet the ship and it's inhabitants were doomed. On board nanite factories, fuel stores and sustainability was nearing their inevitable, finite limits. What did this mean though for the clones above and the colonists bellow? It mean a shattering of faith, hope, higher purpose and literal ground bellow. In their own deluded sense of importance and ruling, the staff of the A.C.E. Phoenix had taken to bestowing blessings on the 'savages' bellow in the form of technology, weaponry, modern ways of life to make the winners of the daily survival of the fittest comfy, luxurious, opulent. Thus they had created their own demons and downfall. As stores and supplies depleted at alarming rates, rationing of blessings to bestow was mandated by the the 6th iteration of the captain.
This did not bade well with the Humarans on Sliinkaa. These colonists, with generation upon generation raised up in the faith and belief if you proved your worth, the gods would answer your prayers now felt robbed of their materially plied faith. Rulers with grand conquests against fellow neighbors stood beside ancient teleportation pads bereft of expected holy cargo after such expensive, life expending tributes through war. Wealthy lords having won bets and acclaim via their strongest anthro gladiators winning their ranks within bloody coliseum matches to sate blood thirsty commoners stood without blessing of luxury or technological delight. Long toiling farmers, healers, craftsmen and animal husbandry workers witnessed fervent prayers to the gods above becoming empty and without any blessings of new seed, medicinal advancements and nutrients for a strong yield in their work.
From blood made nobles to low birth caste members, Sliinkaa felt as a whole, the turning of a cold shoulder by the gods upon the children of ancient Earth. This was not taken well, as one can expect. Outcries and demands across the world rose up, seeking out anyone or anything to be blamed for the loss favor of the gods. Lives both Humaran and Anthro were lost in witch hunts, superstitious cleansing and by the end of the era of Master and Slaves, the newly revived practice of ritual sacrifices to appease the angered gods. Nothing worked, nothing restored the blessings of the gods and many Humarans, throwing their faith on the figurative fire of truth and disbelief banded together in a fever pitched mission called Icarus. If the gods would ignore them after much appeasing, they were going to touch the gods and wake them up to their plight.
After many years of salvaging, cobbling and researching all known archives both mundane and holy, two orbital shuttles, carrying 12 Humarans each were finally born. Launching in the middle of winter, the shuttles arced out through deep blue skies to reach out to the gods one last time to listen to the deserving children of Humara and Ancient Earth. Their arrival was viewed as hostile and the A.C.E. Phoenix opened fire upon the two shuttles using what few laser turrets were functional for clearing small meteorite debris. As the myth their name sake was taken from, Icarus would fall from the skies, daring to touch the sun, but they did not fail. As many around the world would scream seeing the gods lash out at the arrogant reach of Humarans to touch them, shuttle debris raining across Sliinkaa, one shuttle lost control and struck the gods like a fatal arrow.
The A.C.E. Phoenix, protector, life bearer, seat of the gods for a millennium was fatally crippled. Two hundred lives were lost from the sudden decompression of the hydroponics section where the shuttle broke through. The damage was too severe to repair and the ancient power and fuel conduits within the ship were failing rapidly to ensure the engines kept the ship in orbit. An emergency abandon ship was decreed by the eldest generation of staff, ordering anything not bolted down to be loaded into the escape pods and few remaining shuttles as the A.C.E. Phoenix began to shed survivors.
From bellow, Sliinkaa watched and many would call this day the day the gods cried for the Ship appeared to be shedding tears as the escape pods and shuttles rapidly disembarked. The eldest generation of staff took the noble path and remained aboard the ship in age old tradition, sinking with it and their command. To their best ability they steered the crippled ship as it lost orbit rapidly, aiming to avoid the civilizations of Humarans bellow, aiming for open water. Those not navigating and piloting took care to jettison any ship modules possible to lighten the strain of weight on the dying engines. Among these modules was the very reason Sliinkaa was populated. The terraforming module broke up into multiple pieces when it hit turbulence and scattered over Sliinkaa like heavy metal meteors. A.I. systems were put into emergency storage mode to safe guard them from the crash in hopes of future retrieval. Loved ones held each other tight, cried in each others arms, and kissed on last time as their follies registered fully that they were to blame for their fate.
The valiant attempts of the crew failed. The engines shuddered to a fuel suffocated stop and the A.C.E. Phoenix was in free fall, its rapidly declining arc bringing it into an inevitable Armageddon of destruction for the mining continent of Nasir. The crew all said a final apology together as millions of metric tons of metal and machinery slammed into Nasir, ceasing the crews life aboard, bringing hell on proverbial earth to the Murihnam, splitting their continent in two and where the Phoenix fell, from its ashes rose a new sea and two countries.
The fall of the A.C.E. Phoenix signaled a fire brand end of the era of Masters and Slaves. Tenuous, razor edged rebellion broke loose across Sliinkaa as many anthros saw the gods of their enslavers fall like a felled bird. It burned like a sea of burning determination that the Humarans were not untouchable. The loss of faith in their slavers brought steel resolve to strike now while the whole of Sliinkaa was upon its knees weeping for gods none of the anthros believed.
An old song from the days of rebellion still hauntingly play in dens, cities, homes poor and rich.
~Listen, listen, listen to me my enslaved children,
the fur less man has destroyed his heaven,
calamity and fire rain from on high,
the fur less man wails as his gods die.
Rise, rise, rise my children of tooth and claw,
with brotherhood and strength to end their law,
rip and rend into their weak flesh so light,
instill in them fear from our eyes burning bright.
Listen, listen, listen to me my enslaved children,
the fur less man has destroyed his heaven,
calamity and fire rain from on high,
the fur less man wails as his gods die.
Remember, remember the Phoenix from heaven,
its cry trembles the mighty eleven,
its tears swell to comfort our dead brethren,
its flames cleanse our hearts to free our children.
Listen, listen, listen to me my enslaved children,
the fur less man has destroyed his heaven,
calamity and fire rain from on high,
the fur less man wails as his gods die.
Listen, listen, listen my free children as war cries,
listen, listen as freedom strangles the fur less lies,
listen, listen do not forget the sacrifice of tooth and claw,
listen, for the silence of blood calls and death from fur less jaw.
Listen, listen, listen to me my enslaved children,
the fur less man has destroyed his heaven,
calamity and fire rain from on high,
the fur less man wails as his gods die.~
Maltrin Tallon, Founder of the blood line Tallon, Counted lost among the 2nd War of Rebellion.
