Man had come far,
And had worked hard.
Space was no longer a frontier,
But a home.
It began long ago,
When science in its heavenly power, bestowed,
Among the beasts of man,
Black Hole Harvestation.
Changing the very shape of worlds,
The speed of light and beyond,
All became possible,
When and where nothing exists.
It was an age of warfare and destruction,
The likes of which are untold,
The number will never be found,
Trillions were lost in those Black Wars.
But a few did survive,
An extinct Earth,
As they fled to make their new home,
On the colony of Mars.
Ironic though it was,
On the God of war,
They made their new land happy.
If anywhere in any time,
Was truly the land of “milk and honey”,
Then It was them and then,
Back in the very first days…
Of a galactic empire.
Hundreds of years pass now,
In the blink of an eye,
Earth had been reclaimed, reformed,
Along with a galaxy to go a by.
Humanity is now at the apex of its power,
Ruled together by the ultimate congregation,
The Delegation of Stars,
But Pride doth come before the fall.
Everyone had their say,
And for all the wonders and riches then,
It was hard to say nay,
They shall go to the core.
To the Universe’s lore,
They went flying in their fleets,
100 Juggernaughts from Syntrax, on the fringes of the Great Nebulae Sea,
734 cruisers from Ralon in the Hose-Head system.
A thousand ships minus one from Earth,
And a mere six from the Gemini Apollo colony,
And countless others from all over,
Led by the Fleet of Mars, who’s glory and majesty, was beyond mere men.
They left in moments and arrived in light years,
Waking in seconds refreshed and surprised,
What they found , what they’re greatest of technologies could not see,
Inside the densest of Super Black Holes.
Was the remnants from three Big Bangs hence,
Harvesting ever since,
You think millions of years is a lot for man?
Try trillions for one.
It was a battle not a slaughter,
As communication broke down,
This was the last thing we expected,
We who entered there.
From that day on,
The Battle was named,
The Loss at the Core.
A retreat was ordered,
As black holes sprung up from within their machines,
Their weapons surpassed each and every defense,
Some older ships were hacked and turned against each other.
One ship stayed behind,
Defiant even in defeat.
The Flagship of The Empire,
Named “Justly Sweet”,
It’s last report was,
2 years ago today,
It showed the bridge going to hell and gone,
As the devil was unleashed.
But all throughout, the captain stood there,
Commanding, leading, fighting,
All the way to the end.
A warrior’s death.
The race then named,
Found a new reason to be,
To destroy us, we who shed their and out blood.
It was a year since that battle,
Our whole northern sector had fallen,
The plan was simple, taken from history,
A choke point at Thermopylae, with the greatest defensive systems this side of mars.
A million guns had been constructed,
Ever since the war and before.
Particle dissimulators from moons, orbits and the planet.
One, bigger than some suns.
The plan was simple,
The Western Sector,
Well, it was in charge of defense,
It’s formidable shield and anti-quark technologies, would save us all.
Meanwhile the Eastern, Southern, And C.C. (Central-Capital) Sections,
The offensive flank,
They would of course bring.
Once a battle has begun, then they would be flung.
It was of course, perfect.
But so much was already lost.
Planets, Systems, whole Galaxies,
All but gone.
This was worse than the Black War,
There would be no recovery,
You can always change what is there,
But what’s gone is gone.
The military was ready,
The Civilians were evacuated,
Now comes the calm before the storm.
And then the lightening across the sky, it erupted.
In the opening seconds,
Their fleet was almost demolished,
Ambushed beyond belief,
Plasma ripped tears in space and time.
The black turned green and red and cosmic blue,
The space itself was warped by the colors of war,
The guns blazing their sub-atomic blasts,
Invisible to the naked eye.
The gamma ray bombs,
How they exploded in such wonderful forays,
We were blinded, of course,
We could stills see through their computers and technologies.
Losses were few, it seemed true,
That the adamant technologies,
Of the Western Section,
Held up beyond belief.
It was a beautiful carnage they unleashed,
And to complete their victory,
The Northern, Eastern, And C.C.,
Upon black hell’s they ran.
But OH! The Greatest blunder in Human history,
The enemy snatched victory from the hands of defeat,
For this was but a suicide mission,
One for just a minor army.
It was inconceivable to us then,
How useless a life is to them,
After trillions of years,
We would have won the battle, yes that’s clear.
But then it became something,
Something darker and crazy,
A Super Nova they unleashed,
A technology we had yet to discover.
The Entire System was destroyed,
In a matter of milliseconds,
The greatest of shields, the biggest of guns,
Fell instantly, to the miniature big-bang.
So many soldiers…
So many ships…
So many generals…
So many friends.
In mere seconds they died,
For how far we had come,
How much we had lost,
As innumerable as the stars.
No one talks about that battle,
The Slaughter at Thermopylae.
No one can,
We can’t afford to cry.
The battles still continue,
Here and there.
But ever since then,
They’ve basically divided and conquered.
The Paraplax, ****** into our wings,
And took away our flight,
The West and East both became silent,
Faded into the night.
A galactic siege of an empire spanning
Millions of light years,
But first came the worst.
In the Capital of the Southern Section,
They betrayed us and were betrayed.
For they had no use for slaves,
Mercy was an unfamiliar word to they.
The surrounding was complete,
The end result quite clear.
We wouldn’t be able to make it past the new year.
And slowly, methodically, they came.
What did they have to fear?
And planets fell,
My wife did on escape,
Systems were crushed without notice, without faith.
Now there is just us.
A Battalion and Mars.
There is not much point to it all I guess,
We’ve basically been eradicated.
But they keep playing that video,
All on every screen.
The captain, as explosions and black holes erupt around him,
Yelling quite furiously at his subordinates, seeking victory in defeat.
He didn’t give up,
If we’re going to die,
Then we’ll be men about it,
For there is not much time left.
To any race in the future or the past,
Who ever encounters out Swan Song,
This includes our entire history, in more detailed account,
And our greatest treasures.
We send it to you now,
Among the waves of sound.
So ends the last report,
Nay the last words,
This is John Ashton Upston, the 354th,
President of The Empire Fallen Among The Stars
- From Birds Flying Into The Eclipse Of Mars