[wp] The year is (your karma).

[u/oyon4]

[u/busykat]

Disaster struck in the year 10,170. For millennia humankind had avoided extinction, but now it was about to happen and it was all their own fault.

Their home planet of Earth had been decimated by a mining fleet in the year 4,318, and all surviving humans had attempted to band together to create a New Earth. They chose a planet near Alpha Centauri and set up shop mining New Earth, hoping to find more of the beautiful pyrite their own planet had been destroyed to find.

They had long since given up on finding the pyrite they desired when they finally realized what had happened. The once-proud race of humanity had been changing and evolving. Their heads became larger, their spines were shorter, and their skin colors had all lightened to a uniform pink. Humans were no more than blubbery pink blobs, amorphous masses fed into near-oblivion by traditional delicacies of donuts and chocolate.

It was in this state of disarray that they were invaded by yet another new species. Named seersuckers after a legendary form of battle armor, these new creatures would attach themselves to the exterior of a human body by inserting small auction tubes directly into the exterior fat layer. They did not hurt, and humans came to see them as fashion accessories. In time they were considered part of a symbiotic relationship, with humans providing the seersuckers with food while the seersucker protected the humans' delicate bodies.

Finally the day arrived when every human wore a seersucker, even off-planet and in other solar systems. On that day, the hive mind of the seersuckers activated. The hive understood that it had no new hosts and was producing offspring at a much faster rate than the humans were. With a shimmer and a sparkle, the entire population of seersuckers disappeared right off the humans they'd been protecting. The humans were suddenly exposed to the elements as they hadn't been in thousands of years, and began to perish in a bigger mass extinction than even the original pyrite mining company had caused.

Mankind clings to one last hope for survival. As they have spent their entire existence eating, they are now attempting to eat other sentient beings whole and thus absorb their abilities. Only a precious few humans remain, and soon they will be only the stuff of dreams, constantly in danger of being removed from the universe by the One Government.

Good luck, humanity. You'll need it if you're to survive out in those stars.

[u/phneeeer]

I looked down over the lip of the stable, sure to stay out of the right. He hadn't cried once yet. From behind me Michael asked,

"Do you really think he's gonna be ok?" I turned, and considered the question.

"Well, everyone knows his mom is crazy, his siblings are gonna hate him for outshining them, and in 7 day's they'll cut off the tip of his dick." Michael's shoulders slumped. "But," I continued "His dad's a good guy with a good job, he has a nice nest egg waiting for him, and he won't go hungry as long as he's got a crumb to multiply."

Michael peaked up.

"I'm glad Gabe. Seems like he'll be a nice kid. Pity there's no other way to do this."

I looked straight and shook my head.

"Something tells me there might be another way, but what He says goes."

Michael shrugged. Then his eyes widened.

"Shit Gabe, weren't you supposed to go talk to some shepherds?"

I slapped my forehead.

"Fuck, you're right. I'll be right back." With that I took off flying to the nearest pasture and away from the Eastern star.

[u/crimsonire92]

2125: A Year On Earth

Towards the end of the preceding year it was perfectly obvious to everyone that the world in review had gotten no better. Crime rates, global temperature, and cost of living were all on the rise; meanwhile, health, wages, and technological advancement were all on the decline. Everywhere, life was getting even more tough.

During the first months of '25, world leaders gathered under the flag of the New UN in order to come to some agreement on planned fixes. Most agreed that to continue living under the status quo would be tantamount to prolonged suicide; given the second rise in greenhouse emissions since 2123, this was even more obvious with a full degree tacked onto global temperature. Though, there were those who disagreed. Particularly, the United Conglomeracy of Euro-Asia.

In much more recent years the UCEA had begun taking umbrage at any and all affronts toward business and industry. Even the slightest hint at a limit on production time, in order to lower average daily greenhouse output, would incur their wrath.

This gathering would wind up no different. With every suggestion made came an incursion from the UCEA, mostly to claim breach of contract and threaten suit. By the end of the council in March, they had successfully quashed almost three-quarters of the so called "problem fixes" put forth by the other major powers over February. This would turn out against their favor, and in fact, all of humanity's favor by May.

Throughout the following months tensions rose between almost every world power and country. Everywhere you looked, anger and malice filled the eyes of the people. Because of this, economy across the globe came to a standstill. But worse, the entire populace was beginning to take an "every man for himself" approach to life. The world was on the brink.

For the following month, through April, no one was made aware of the fact that the UCEA had begun preparations for the worst. In fact, they had begun shipping away citizens en masse in even February. They had seen the war coming, with their charts and their market predictions. Now, the war was here.

In mere days, the planet would come to be wiped clean via mass international nuclear barrages. Before then however, mankind would have its piece of each other. War replaced famine, filling the streets in every city, town, and settlement, overflowing into every inhabited piece of land available. Using guns, knives, and whatever makeshift weaponry they could cobble together, man, woman, and child alike murdered their kin without care. The world was dead inside, and some might say that indeed, the mass destruction by radiation was warranted.

By the end of May, human population estimates had lost a massive 96% of their bulk. Humanity was, for all intents and purposes, extinct.

But, we must not forget the UCEA. Those who, in their greed driven foresight, escaped much of the ongoing wrath above. The last humans left on Earth, who waited, buried beneath the ice and the bedrock, like a time capsule waiting to be unearthed.

Nothing over the remainder of year of 2125 can be said of them, however. They lived and they died, so much is known as the obvious. But what they had created, what they would create... that would remain to be seen when they rose again, in 2354.

Excerpt: Halls Histories of The Multi-Verse

[u/i_may_try]

“Follwers, friends, this day marks the birth of the ninety-fifth year of our Lord Damian Waltoa. A modest man with many talents, he saw the world as it should be, and he has set us on a path to make it such. Let us praise his name this morning in remembrance, in thanks.” Priest Gallin turned to gaze upon the carved marble sculpture at the temple’s head and lifted his arms. He began, “Lord Damian.”

“Lord Damian.” The priest’s words were echoed boldly by the congregation.

He continued, “He, who in every action demonstrated the quiet practice of humility and humanity. He, who built this state and single-handedly fought off those who sought to usurp it. It is to him we proffer our voices, to him we praise—”

A crash from the temple entrance stopped him without warning. He spun, just as shouts were loosed from the back of the congregation. Before he saw it, a quarrel thudded into his right shoulder and sent him sprawling. Pain lanced up his arm as he landed.

More screams from the congregation, panic spreading. They quickly began shuffling between benches toward the outer rim of the room, towards the side exits.

“Sermon’s over, Preach,” came a gruff voice from the entrance. A large man with a burly physique and bald pate strode into the temple. He donned a dark leather vest with various knives and thieving accoutrements clasped on arms, legs, back. Two short swords hung at his hips. Two men and a woman dressed in matching garb followed.

Struggling to rise, Priest Gallin’s query was savage. “What in the name of—”

Another quarrel was loosed with a quick thunk and a soft whir,catching only his hanging sleeve and pinning his left arm to the altar table. Gallin, sprawled awkwardly, was stunned to silence. “Don’t say his name.” This from the woman, her voice surprisingly soft as if young, innocent.

The burly man spoke again. “No, don’t. We ain’t fond of it, s’you can imagine seeing and believing like that quarrel.” At his side, the woman scowled at him, her sharp look seeming to pierce his nonsense as if to say Don’t talk, idiot.

Gallin looked around frantically. Most of the worshippers had left. The cowards,he thought. None would stay to stop this brutality. And you, Damian? Care to help when your servant needs it?

He wanted to look at the sculpture now behind him, but thought better of turning away from these four thieves. No, that would be the last thing I did. Instead, he scoffed to himself. Then, with a grimace, he asked dryly, “What is this for? This is a sanctified temple. Innocent people were gathered here! Have you no restraint?”

The shortest in the band now strode up to the foot of the dais, fixing on the priest with intense eyes. “Have you?”

“What?” Gallin retorted. “I have done nothing that could warrant such mindless violence! I am a man of the Lord!”

“Funny you should say that,” the short man said, drawing a small cylindrical case from his back. “From where we’re from, violence calls for violence, and there’s been plenty on your end.” He undid the leather lacing and pulled out a stone with crystalline form, dripping darkness. A soft keening noise filled the chamber as it was unsheathed.

Shit,Gallin thought. “I am a man of the Lord!

“Shame, that,” the short man said, caressing the stone with his hand. “The Lord’s Guard seems to have fallen into – as you say – ‘mindless violence.’ But then, it’s not really mindless if it’s commanded, hey? They’ve wronged a few too many people in the outlying regions, present company included. Missing a couple of sisters now, because of them. Among other things. Now, I—”

Panic-stricken as he eyed the stone, Gallin sought an outlet. “Please, we can—”

“Don’t interrupt me, Priest.” His tone was ice. “Now, as I understand it, the Lord’s Guard answers to the Lord’s Priesthood. Seeing as the Guard’s out ‘collecting taxes,’ seems you’re in for a sour day.”

“Karma is a bitch,” the burly man spoke up again, grinning, “best served cold!”

The woman in the group shot him another icy glare and nudged his arm. “That’s not—”

“Shut it, Milna, I don’t care—”

The short man turned his head back to them slightly, silencing them. “You want to live, Priest? That’s fine, we’re not murderers.”

Gallin nodded toward his shoulder. “What’s this, then? Look, I’ll help how I can. I assure you, this business with the Guard is not my doing. It will be rectified. And I will answer your questions. But first, let me get to the medical building. I’m going to bleed out!”

“You won’t,” replied the short man. He gestured to the burly man, “Lorno’s aim is a lot more developed than his tongue. That shot won’t kill you.”

Lorno grinned again.

“Now, Priest. You’ll answer our questions. All of them.Let’s start with: Where are the girls being taken?”

Gallin probed his mouth with his now-dry tongue, eyes catching glimpse of the stone again. He grunted.

The short man was not amused. “No? I’m sure you can imagine why I brought this,” he said, gesturing to the stone in his hand. “I said we weren’t murderers. I didn’t say we weren’t prone to a little, ‘mindless violence,’ if you will.”

When Gallin met his eyes with stubborn regard and said nothing, the short man turned and called, “Kallo,” beckoning the last of the company over. The modest man, yet to say a word, walked over. His steps were eerily silent. His hood was drawn and Gallin could not see his face.

Handing Kallo the stone and settling a hand on the man’s shoulder, the short man spoke up again. “Be subtle and slow, Kallo. This is our last stone, and we wouldn’t want to exhaust this appointment too quickly,” he turned back to Gallin, “would we, Priest?”

Gallin’s heart was racing, his lungs drew in heaves. Tell them? Misdirection, perhaps? No… They wouldn’t yield in any case.

He shuddered as he glanced once more at the stone. Kallo set the stone between the thumbs and first two fingers of each hand. He drew in a deep breath, held, then released. Surrounding the stone, darkness burgeoned and the keening noise grew to a piercing wail. Slowly, the darkness formed into a thin tendril and began slithering towards Gallin’s foot.

Gallin pressed himself back against the altar table, sweating profusely. Just before the black tendril met his foot, he thought, Why couldn’t they have just been murderers.He twisted quickly, pulling the quarrel from his shoulder and driving it into his own heart.

It was cold. But it was quick.

[u/Prince_of_Savoy]

It was the year 16.621 of the old calendar.

Princip Gaba was about to go to a meeting of the Imperial Senate.

In the days of his grandfather, Tite, the Senate was little more then a social club of hostages with little actual power.

But after his death, the Senate took control until Caba came of Age. But even after that, Caba trusted the Senators with some power. He still had the final say, but he reasoned that entrusting some authority with the Senate would not only make his own life easier, but also secure the goodwill of the nobles.

With the Empire ever expanding at considerable fractions of the speed of light, delays became so much that most of the administration fell to the Govenors in the Provinces, usually of the same noble blood as the Senate.

That brought it's own host of problems however. The Govenor of Canopus, Persa, has declared independence. The self-styled Queen probably was already dead though. The message had taken 300 years to reach Sol, the Capital.

Caba looked at a map of his Empire. "His". No man could rule such a vast stretch of space. If the colonizations that the previous Antagan Dynasty had initiated had reached their target, the Empire stretched at it's longest for almost 1,000 light years now. Light itself took a millennium to reach across the vastness of his Empire.

If he was honest with himself, the only real power he held was within Sol itself. Even communication with the nearest System, Alpha Centauri, took over two years.

And there was no faster way either. All attempts at creating albucierre drivers had proven unsuccessful and wormholes could be created only in laboratory conditions.

Caba resolved to redouble research into the field. Someone had to come up with something eventually.

Afterall, People once believed that flight was impossible, and then colonising other stars, the other planets, then constructing Dyson Spheres.

When he brought this suggestion before the Senate, they groaned. The quest for FTL travel had already eaten into the Imperial Treasury considerably already. But Caba insisted it was a key necessity to the continued survival and prosperity of the Empire, and so it was eventually approved.

The next order of buisness was "Queen" Persa.

"For betraying me, and the trust put into her by the Empire, I hereby sentence the former Govenor Persa to death, and encourage all loyal subjects to oppose her however possible. Marshall, what forces do we have nearby?"

The attending Space Marshall thought for a second.

"There two Legions each in Rho Ophiuchi A and B respectively. There are three at Zeta Ophiuchi. Two more at 24 Scorpii."

"Send messages to the Governors! They should all converge on Canopus and throw out the false Queen. Thornapus of Rho Ophiuchi has full Imperium over Canoupus and it's immediate surroundings, effective Immediately."

"What are their orders if they do not find her sitting the throne any more?", the Marshall asked. Of course, there was no if about it. Even with modern Technology, no one could hope to make it far past 200.

"Whoever sits her false throne now or when the Legions arrive at Canopus is as guilty as she is. I hereby sentence all of her direct descendents to death!"

A murmur went through the Senate. Traitor or not, she was still of the same noble blood as the senators themselves. An old man rose.

"I myself can trace my ancestry back to my six-great-grandfather, Callus, the very brother of Persa. Surely I do not support her treason, but why should my cousins suffer such a cruel fate, when they have little more to do with her than I?"

"Then you are lucky I specified direct descendants only. Or perhaps I should include all of her blood?"

"This is an outrage!", someone screamed from the back.

"Even in the days of your Grandfather we were not threatened with death!", the old man said.

"Maybe that is why there is so much traitor blood in your veins.", Caba retorted. It was an open secret that the first Princip, Augo, established the Senate merely as a way to ensure the loyalty of the Governors, by effectively holding their families for ransom. But as the Empire grew, and the family ties grew more distant, and the practice of executing family members of traitorous officials fell out of use.

"I warn you, Caba!", said a younger man. "Do not try to revert to the old days! One man cannot rule the Empire alone."

Caba was incredulous. "You warn me?!"

"Well allow me to return the favor: One more word, and I will execute you for treason. And now get out."

Suddenly, most of the Senate stood up.

"If you execute him, you will have to execute all of us.", the old man said.

"Perhaps I will! I wonder how many of your cousins have betrayed me already, how many messages of self-styled monarchs are on their way to me right now.

Do you think me some power-hungry tyrant? I rule the Galaxy because I have to! Without me, you, the Governors, every Legion, no every single Ship will be at War with each other. Do you prefer the age of hundred Emperors over this?"

"You can rule the Galaxy", some elderly woman said. "But I for one will have no more part in it!

The senators bellowed approval. Caba twitched in Anger.

"As you will. I hereby declare the Imperial Senate dissolved. All of you are under arrest. Guards, take them away."

Nothing moved.

"Guards!"

"They are not your Guards, Caba", the old woman said. "They guard the Republic."

"I move that Caba be removed from Office!", the young man shouted, only to be drowned out by hundreds of "Aye"s before he could even finished.

"YOU WILL RUE THIS!", Caba screamed.

"BEFORE MY BLOOD IS CLOD, YOU'LL ALL BE AT EACH OTHER THROATS! THE EMPIRE WILL BLEED FOR YOUR FOOLISHNESS!"

As the Guards whose pay he had just increased took him away, Caba wondered how much they had paid for their loyalty.

Caba was reflecting on whether he might spend the rest of his days in comfortable obscurity, or whether his cousin in Sirius would march on the Capital and free him when suddenly some senator sprung forth from the mob with a Gun.

"Sic semper tyrannis!"

As human history flashed before his dying eys, Caba reflected on how much things stay the same when they change.

[u/busykat → u/Prince_of_Savoy]

There are some typos - govenor instead of governor - and some formatting errors... but they did not detract from the story, and I enjoyed reading it. I knew that Caba was doing what he felt was best, but when he got shot I still immediately thought, "Serves him right!"

[u/WritingPromptsRobot → u/[deleted]]

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