It was said that in the beginning, there was life. A whole planet full - a whole planet. But our kind got too ambitious; we reached for the sky, for the stars. They did not like this. Sent our celestials careening in a crash-course straight to out home. The planet was shattered, the atmosphere collapsed, life all but wiped out. But we survived, floating amongst the debris, in our airtight homes - clinging tight to the memories of what we had lost.
Long before the catastrophe, our kind wanted to touch the stars, to be one with them. Each of us raced to be the first to say that had broken free from the confines of the planet's gravity, to float amongst the vacuum of space.
We built ships to bring us up into the sky, with artificial sources of air to sustain us and manmade plants to bring us life. We thought we could defy the natural law chaining us to our home, but little did we know the consequences this would bring.
It was not long until the first of us breached the atmosphere, the great plasma shell that kept out air in and the dangers of space out. We celebrated this as a victory, took this as encouragement to mean that we were headed the right direction. Ironically, we didn't stop to think about the gravity of what we had been doing.
The great expanse of stars was now within reach, and all we had to do was reach back. We built onwards and upwards, creating homes in the stars. Making a large new settlement, the epitome of all we had been working towards. We made
MOON-XV.
It was our greatest feat yet, an accomplishment to be celebrated across the planet. We had imitated the celestials themselves, a folly which served to inflate our seemingly infallible egos.
And yet little did we know this very creation, what we had done while we were in our prime, was to be the cause of our downfall.
We had not thought of what would happen if we disrupted the celestials, if we added another to their ranks. We were only thinking of ourselves and our greatness. And the celestials saw this, and they argued. They fought between each other in a great battle of words that ended in a battle of fists. And one sent the corpse of the other flying, directly into our home.
We had very little time to evacuate our planet, very little time to make ourselves safe. We were not all able to make it; only those who had risen to the stars already had ensured their safety. The rest of us raced to the ships that had been made, setting sail to the skies for the last time - this time, out of necessity. Not all of us had been able to make it, not everyone lucky enough to make it out. We lost a great many people on the day of the collision, and the remaining population was thrown into a panic.
It was years of chaos before a group emerged great enough to establish a new sense of order among the stars. The
Council of Stars saw our brokenness, and arose to bring us back together. At last, we began to unify once more, realising that even without our planet, we could still rely on one another. And so we established community once more, bringing our civilisations into the constructions of the egos of our ancestors, creating homes from our follies.
Our gods had abandoned us, lost to each other. Our planet was gone, shattered and broken. Our homes among the stars could only sustain us for so long, and panic began to set in once more. There was no consoling us, this time, and we began to fight. The Council tried to convince us to come together, and some of us did, but there were many that stooped to
piracy and theft.
Shipjacking arose as people were unsatisfied with their homes, and so the Council formed the
Spacekeepers to end the chaos. While life was certainly not perfect, the dust settled and we began to live once again in peace.
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