NationStates Jolt Archive

"This is the first entry in the personal log of Captain Arran Bosch, supreme commander of the Neo Terran Front. Today my final encounter with my father has vindicated my beliefs upon the destroyers, their will and what can only be described as their ethics; however rudementery and crude. The Shivans have tasked me in my fathers absence to guide them on their quest to ahniliate my species, they have asked me to champion their cause and I find myself unable to defy them. For with the scales of justice stacked against me and my ancestors I find myself concerned with histories conclusion. Will I, like my father be hailed as a murder? Will history declare my life's work void and failed?

The irony of this entry is not lost upon me, my father in his triumphant state once composed these very words, believing that he had found humanities holy grail, that the Shivans, like some immortal deity would somehow find mercy for our lost souls and from the ashes of our self-destruction, he believed that they would save us.

Humanity, civilisation cannot be saved. We tread every day through the valley of the kings, captured by the great memorials of glories past, too blind to see the need for change, the desire for a new dynasty. The Shivans, timeless and immortal have now come to pass their judgement once more upon our existence. But I find myself wondering, will humanity protect the stagnant image of their ancestors, or will their fear shatter this false reality, heralding a new golden era?

As a guide for my new masters, I can only hope that my species has grown and that their need for compassion is not spent upon false hopes like that of the Vasudans."

The small screen of the computer glimmered and closed to black. Arran Bosch sat, just like his father upon the stool of destiny, gazing out at the dark mists of subspace, lost in reality and grief. Outside his grand oval viewport, the Admiral watched as the Shivans begun their first jump into real space, the blue horizon tearing at the fabric of reality preparing to shatter the illusions of countless civilisations.

Personal Log - Arran Bosch

"My father talked a lot about manifest destiny, he believed we were small Gods working in a playground of giants. Now I see that he was not so far from the truth. I look out my window and I see heaven; even paradise... Like the true saviours depicted by my race the Shivans have cared and nurtured us, they carry us on their ships, supply and maintain our own. I find it odd as to why they would tend to that which they so despise? Are we lost children to them? Or merely a tool? An open book, which when finished can be simply tossed away? I feel that all three are true, yet like my father my hopes for a future lie with the Destroyers."

UNNAMED SYSTEM - Seaquest Territory - Most Active System.

The tare was successful and fast, the small hole from subspace to the deserted realm was exhibiting no true signs of their presence. The heart of a star often masked any oddity.

The howling inferno of the fusion reaction seared and blistered against the side of the Lucifer, it's death black hull was all too accustomed to the temperatures of hell. Inside, the crew of gangly creatures moved from system to system, their compound eyes watching the unsuspecting prey as they scuttled from chore to chore. The Shivans viewed them as insignificant, a drain on the universe, too small to be allowed a part in the grand design; which is why their choice had been here.

Their method of travel was mixed, the resonance ripples from Hyperspace showed the terrans reliance on an inferior realm, one where normal physics and laws apply, a territory that is unable to defend itself, a layer of reality too incompetent to conjure her warriors. The Shivans were warriors, and they had learned.

The past conflicts had shown them the folly of demonstrating their strength, past wars and defeats and shown them the terrors of facing the humans slowly and gradually. The overmind had learned its lesson, and now they would destroy through subterfuge and design.

The glimmering blue of the Lucifers shielding began to effortlessly expand, pulling the bright core of a sun into subspace. Fast, quick, instant. A "natural disaster" would befall this system, a terror would stalk the shadows.

Present, dominating, dark and rueful the Shivans stalk in the blinding light of life. A stars core, the source of a Galaxies power, was the home of a shadow waiting and watching; consuming and destroying.

In subspace, the pointed daggers of countless warships waited, their bodies and minds watching the system. Some were preparing to strike at Hypergates, others ready to emerge inside the atmosphere of worlds and scorch the delicate balance of infrastructure and habitant; and some were even waiting for the eventual horde of rescue ships that would arrive, the eventual scurry that would occur to evacuate a collapsing home.