The following "story" is based on a game I played over the weekend where I played a custom race on a large galaxy, difficulty set to normal. A lot of abundants. Sorry, no pictures. The custom race I have envisioned as a somewhat bug-like creature. I set all the abilities to enhance warmongering, and chose "evil" on all the moral events. However, as the story unfolds, we realize that not all the citizens of an evil empire agree with the leadership. Since Terrans weren't in the galaxy, I chose to write the story from a slightly different perspective.

Enjoy.
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Log entry: March 12, 2221. Lt Commander Bryson, Mars Expedition Team #7

The evidence that life once existed here on Mars is abundant. We’re finding remains of cities, but until today, nothing to indicate how these people lived or even what they looked like. We’ve been on this godforsaken planet now for two years. Do we think Humanity can colonize here? Sure. It’s do-able. I’ll reserve my thoughts about the politics and social implications.

Today we made a startling find. We found a room sealed in the basement of what was once a huge building. A kind of a time capsule according to one of the archaeologists. What surprised us more than anything is that we found a device with a working power source. About the size of a shoebox with a couple lights and buttons on it. Randi pushed one of the buttons and the device started making noises. At first, we were about to throw the box out and run because it might be a bomb. "Wait!" Randi said. "Listen. It’s a language. A spoken language."

All I heard were a series of clicks and clucks. Harsh syllables made by something completely non-human. She pushed the button again and the noise stopped. We’ll have to send it back to Earth. Maybe one of those linguists that work with dolphins and whales can figure this out. We have work to do.

Log entry: July 29, 2221. Dr. Rick Syan, Jr., International Linguistic Institute.

We received the mysterious box from Mars yesterday. The biologists have decided that it is safe for us to work on. Being fluent in over 30 languages, they figured I’d be the best guy to lead the team in trying to interpret what is in the box. We expect this to be a long process, but once we’ve broken the fundamentals of syntax, it should come together. The United Assembly has provided me and my team with some very powerful super-computers and excellent facilities. I look forward to this challenge.

Log entry: September 16, 2221. Lt Commander Bryson, Mars Expedition Team #7

My rotation will be over soon, as I’ve been here for 2 years. I know that returning to Earth will be difficult, because my body has adapted to the lighter gravity, but I’ll be happy to get home and see green once again.

Our team has uncovered evidence that those who lived here before must have been a space-faring race. A few days ago we found what appears to be a hanger bay, complete with several of their ships. Though we aren’t sure exactly what types of ships, I’m convinced they were warships. Single-seat fighters, loaded with what look like beam weapons. A virtual treasure-trove of technologies – it will take years for our scientists to figure it all out and make sense of it. Randi suggested that this may be the key to interstellar travel.

I read the report from Ex Team #5 this morning. It seems that theory that Mars was hit by a large object some million years ago was true. Though, they say, it wasn’t a comet or asteroid. They aren’t sure what it was, but it was definitely Huge. Huge. Fast moving. Powerful. Enough to send a shockwave through the entire planet and split the ground on the other side, making a canyon that dwarfs the Grand Canyon by a factor of thousands. A civilization-ending event. I’ll say.

Log entry: February 22, 2222. Dr. Rick Syan, Jr., International Linguistic Institute.

The day of two’s. A coincidence of numbers, and it is today that we reveal the first translation of a communication by an alien species. I suppose it’s appropriate because it confirms that we are not alone in this vast universe. Ok, so this communication is a few million years old, it does give us proof. Later today I will stand before the United Assembly and read the very words that were recorded so long ago, translated, of course, into English.

In attendance is the team of surveyors who found the record almost a year ago. They are just as eager to hear this translation as are the dignitaries and governors, and the rest of the world who will be seeing this on Net-Cast.

Unfortunately, the message from the past is not one of hope.

Transcript of Net-Cast broadcast, February 22, 2222, starting at 2:22 pm, GMT. United Assembly Hall, New York City, New York, USA.

Assembly Chairman Sofia Istanni:
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. Today we honor Lt. Commander Dave Bryson and his team who discovered the recording device we now refer to as the Huthian Account.

I have not yet heard or read the Huthian Account translation. I am as eager as the rest of you. Here, to read the translation, is the man who led the team. He assures me that this translation is as accurate as possible given the circumstances. So, without further ado, let me present Dr. Rick Syan, Jr.

Dr. Rick Syan, Jr.:
Thank you. Thank you. Please. Thank you very much. I want to especially thank my team and those who went to Mars to retrieve this device. We spent a lot of time on this translation, and through it, not only have we learned a lot about the being who made the recording, but we’ve gotten a dire warning about what lays beyond our solar system. Something I think you should carefully consider as we plan for the future of our race.

Let me start by saying that the language of this alien was very tough to discern at first. It wasn’t until we applied a computer evaluation of frequencies and modulations that allowed us to "break the code" so to speak. What sounds to us like random clicks and clucks breaks down into a very complicated syntax. Our own ears could never understand nor comprehend the depth and diversity of this language. Nor could our mouths and voices produce the variety of sounds.

We call this recording the Huthian Account simply because the sounds first made at the beginning of each segment of the recording start with two sounds: "Hoo Thch." We are not sure if this is the recorder’s name, because these two sounds, in this combination, are not repeated anywhere else – except when the author is referring to himself.

"Himself," you ask? For convenience, we used the masculine perspective. There is no discussion or reference to gender in the account, but English kind of forces us into a distinction.

Enough introduction. You all want to hear what Huth had to say.

Huth.. Today is a day of hope and discovery. I was born on K’tt’ri-tith, and joined 500 other colonists to live on the new world we call K’uu’tith-ch. The forth planet of a dim, yellow star. I work in university, studying. The third planet in this star system, K’ii-ch-ch’tk, is mostly water and we do not know how to live underwater. This planet is lush, green, and growing. It is very compatible with our species, despite the light gravity. We will live here and grow here.

Huth. We study hard. Contact was made with something called Torian. Strange beings. They want to be friends but we don’t understand their language. Weapons, they tell us. Study weapons. Beams. Use light to burn and destroy. Refract. Crystal. Heat and focus. We bring them guns. We give what they want, but we aren’t happy about it. They pay us to study, then take half of it away. I want to spend time on green pasture. Enjoy life on this new planet.

Huth. Iconians. Fair bunch of aliens. Don’t study weapons now. Study ship design. How can we make bigger ships. Bigger, faster, stronger, tougher. Put those laser weapons on the ships. Those in stardock are building ships. We don’t get paid as much, and I have time to enjoy green pasture.

Huth. Yor. Evil robots. We attack them before they attack us. They are aggressive and mean. Kill our people. Destroy our colonies. We must defend ourselves. Wipe them out. But our funding is low. Tax rate higher, people getting mad. Some talking about going on strike and revolting. I support this idea, but I tell no one.

Huth. We cannot continue. We are going bankrupt. No money to pay workers, workers don’t work. Need to study communication technology. Need to bargain for peace against evil Yor. Yor willing to talk because they are at war with Arceans, too. Don’t know these Arceans. Must be a fair bunch of aliens.

Huth. Trade with Iconians. Sell technologies for money. Back to work and enjoying green pasture. Life is good, but back to studying weapons. Perhaps we should study Aquatic World Colonization? Our population growing. We now have factories and universities and entertainment center. I went. It was fun, but I prefer green pasture. Soon we’ll have too many people, and people will be hungry. They say we are going to build a farm so we can feed more people. I say let’s colonize K’ii-ch-ch’tk. I’ll even go. I understand their land is green, even though there are big lizards that live there.

Huth. On K’y’pt-k’th, they discovered a new drug made from our own blood. Disgusting, but our leader promotes it! I am offered, but I refuse. I prefer green pasture to drugs. Those on drug work harder. Nice, if they don’t die in the process. Many die, though.

Huth. War again. First we trade with them. Offer them technologies for money. Offer them unique items like Harmony Crystals and Micro Repair Bots for money. They are foolish. Our fleets mass at the edge of their space. We have a new weapon. Poison warfare. After understanding how to colonize a poisoned world, we and poison their world then colonize it. Our people will be fine. A transport ship visits. Many board the ship to travel and colonize newly captured worlds. While on the ship, they don’t pay taxes. They like that, but the rest of us have to pay more taxes to make up the difference to fund this war. When all our fleets were poised, our leaders traded then a few days later attacked. Unprovoked. Unwarranted. In the first week, at least ten worlds were captured and repopulated with our people. Immediately, we used their factories to build more ships.

Huth. Nine weeks of war. Toll of life is terrible. Our fleets weak, but poison ships get through. New design of poison ship gives it faster engine and tougher hull. I would not want to be pilot of poison ship. To see billions die so quick would make me sick. It would make me want to die. No money for study. I am working in factory building poison ship. I work like slave. No green pasture.

Huth. Torian surrenders. No more loss of life. They agree to assimilate into our culture. No choice. Their homeworld is dead. The only deaths we suffered were the crews of our battleships. One transport was destroyed on route. Our leader celebrates victory, and we all are ordered to participate. I march alongside fellow workers and smile. I don’t want to die. I want my green pasture.

Huth. Life is normal. I am studying once again. New technologies. Business, manufacturing, entertainment. A freighter arrived from an Arcean world today. We watched them land and we bought their stuff. We should build freighters. Instead we are building a new warship, modeled after a design stolen from a conquered world. They called it "Firehawk" We call it FH-2. We are also building a defender to patrol each world. Ours is built. We even built a second one before the leader told us to build the FH-2. The FH-2 has the new warp engine design and is armed with both Phasors and Rail guns. It also has thick armor and some energy shielding.

Huth. To my delight, we are building a Technology Capital. A galactic achievement, they say. I may actually get to work there. Many weeks pass as we continue studying and building ships. Before long, though, we are back to military studies. They want to build bigger ships with faster engines and more powerful weapons.

Huth. The Arceans and Yor have been fighting for many weeks, but they finally made peace. Our leader believes this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for, so all ships, including the Defenders in orbit around our planet, are called to the border of Arcean space. Every ship joins the armada. The Arceans have amassed a fleet and it is gathered just inside our border. Our new battleship, the C’tt’ch, is online and all planets are tasked to build just one. Some say it will take years to build, but they follow orders anyway. Once the battleship is built, we are to turn production over to the new poison ships, the S’ch’kr’t. No more study. I must work in factory. I visit green pasture, but only for short time.

Huth. Taxes high. Morale low. Our fleets surround the Arcean fleet. Our poison ships line the border. Yor ships watching closely. Iconians still friendly, and we trade technology for money. We are in deficit, and many people are talking revolt. Don’t speak too loudly or you are conscripted to battleship service. Or poison ships service. No green pasture on battleship.

Huth. Bank closed. We do not understand why, but suspect aliens. Can’t get to money. Must work harder for less pay. People angry, don’t want to pay taxes, don’t want to work. Leaders promise to reopen bank, but many weeks pass and no action. Leaders blame Arceans for closing banks.

Huth. Day has come. Surprise attack on the Arceans. Seven worlds poisoned in one day, almost simultaneously. No effort to populate these worlds. The crews of the poison ships must do it all themselves. Our warships take heavy losses, but fare much better than the Arceans. Stories of glorious battle where one of our ships kills hundreds of enemy ships are heard.

Huth. Yor are in the way. We can’t destroy the Arceans as fast as we want, so we attack and poison Yor worlds. They are stronger and can defend. They attack one of our established worlds – one we captured in the previous war, but our people defend. They also capture one of the poisoned worlds. Easy for them – there is no one there to defend. More ship to ship battles, but we overcome somewhat easily. Yes, more losses, but nothing compared to theirs. Even our old ships win when the odds are overwhelming.

Huth. Our diplomats offer peace to the Arceans and Yor. They must give us all their technology and all but their home planet. They both refuse. Already we have stolen much technology from their fallen worlds. We do not see pictures of the devastation, but I can picture it in my mind. Blackened pastures littered with bodies, and poisoned, green skies.

Huth. Bank reopened today. Many people rejoice. Still at war. Still killing people on distant worlds. I would go to bank, but I have no money. I go to green pasture instead.

Huth. Victory at last. The Arceans fall, and within a week, Yor surrenders. During the war, a few minor races have entered our space and taken over previously unsettled worlds. Our aquatic neighbor world is left alone, however. Without any prior notice or warning, our poison ships visit these few worlds and their populations are destroyed. Our leaders are the worst kind of evil.

Huth. All the ships that survived the previous wars are now sent to Iconian space. Our contacts with the Iconians tell us that they will submit to our rule in a few months. They just need time to get their affairs in order. This does not satisfy our leaders. Again, unprovoked, we attack them. Those planets not building poison ships are ordered to build them. We must prevail, and we must conquer the Iconians before they submit to us. Our leaders will only be satisfied with total annihilation.

Huth. One world, far away, has revolted against our leaders. They are far away and remote. We hope they survive, but I do not hold out much hope for them. People are talking here about doing the same, but they want to ally with other worlds that revolt. Together, they believe they can rise up and overthrow the leadership. I tell them no. It will get us killed.

Huth. The Iconians are fighting back, and we do not have the resources to fight them effectively. Our leaders impose 100% taxes and tell us to work 100% of the time. Finish the projects we are working on, they say. Our planet refuses and we revolt. Thirty other planets revolt as well. Instead of working, we strike. I go to the green pasture and cry. Fifty other worlds complied and each produced a brand new poison ship. I know that one is coming this way. We have no ship in orbit to defend. I tell people that we should stop our revolt and submit. They believe we will survive. Enough of us speaking out and the leaders should listen. They should hear us. They should understand that we should have a voice.

Huth. News is scarce, but still gets through. We are working hard to build a defender, but we know it is futile. A poison ship is headed toward our planet, and though it is one of the older models, we know we don’t have a chance. Already, ten other worlds in rebellion have been poisoned. The Iconians are almost defeated, their worlds annihilated like the Yor, Arcean, and others.

Huth. We have called back the surveyors that were headed to the third planet. It is beautiful and pristine. Many green pastures, even though strange lizards live there. We will all die here next week. There is no escape. I sit in my green pasture for what may be the last time. I will take this recording device and place it in the capsule with other artifacts. I have placed in it a power device that will self activate if it detects light. Hopefully someone in a future generation will hear these words and my story and realize that there is evil in the galaxy. If you learn from our ships how to fly into space and travel to the stars, you will be met with oppression, slavery, and eventual doom.

Huth. I thought the last recording will be the last. I am standing outside the capsule. My friends are here with me. The poison ship is coming toward us. We can see it on our sensors, and we only have hours. We are trying a desperate plan, but we do not know if it will work. We have placed detonation charges in the rocky, barren fifth world in this star system. If we can time it right, we can explode that planet in the path of the poison ship and destroy it. Now. There it is. The planet has been destroyed! We watch the reports. The poison ship seems to have survived somewhat intact, but it has been sent off course. It appears to be headed right toward the second planet in this system. We have no idea how the poison will interact with the turbulent atmosphere there. But we have a problem. Headed our way is huge chunk of the fifth planet. We had no way of predicting this! I must stop this recording now. I do not think we will survive the day. The leaders got what they wanted, just not the way they expected. Once I place this recording in the capsule, I will go and spend my last hours enjoying my green pasture.

Dr. Rick Syan, Jr.:
My friends, I am not one hundred percent certain this translation is accurate. However, I believe we should heed the warning of Huth and not explore the stars. Our surveys of the Martian ruins tell us that yes, we can have the technology, and we can learn how to build their ships. But if the galaxy is what is described in this tale, I, for one, want no part of it. You are the ruling body of this planet, and the decision is yours to make.