Our Sun (Patreon)

There was once a time in which our ships outnumbered the stars in the galaxy. Our weapons could cause untold devastation. Untold, because no one they fired at survived. The buildings on our worlds clawed their way toward the vacuum of space, and in some cases actually reached it. Every space-faring race we encountered bowed to our whims or were simply eradicated from existence.

Life was good.

Those who were loyal to our empire went to sleep with their dietary needs met, and were assured they would awaken feeling refreshed thanks to our medicines. Our at-home entertainment consisted of the most advanced technologies to ever grace the stars. Every desire and whim we had was fulfilled by those we had conquered. We grew fat and lazy in our dens of luxury, but we shed these traits whenever war was necessary.

Wars, though, didn't usually last very long. Every now and again some type of social revolutionary would rear their ugly head, only to have it removed before it finished its pretty little speech. The longest and hardest wars we fought were slave rebellions, but that's mostly because they were willing to lose what little they had for the scant hope of getting more. This we understood, gambling is a fine way to pass the time. Such was our way of life for centuries.

Then things changed.

Not everyone is cut out for a life of luxury. Some prefer the hunt for new things, and society is ill-suited to provide amusement for such people. They would instead turn toward the stars, searching for new planets to discover and explore. They believed that this would advance us, make us stronger. For a time, they were right.

Most of their discoveries were nearly worthless, but on occasion they would discover something interesting. A configuration of molecule that we hadn't seen before, a new species to conquer, and planets that could be turned into pleasure retreats for the wealthy. Even super-caches of resources that further secured our dominance over the stars.

Then, on the other side of our galaxy, they discovered the end of our empire, though we didn't know it at the time. How could we? The little creatures with two legs and arms and no natural weaponry were a far cry from the nightmare inducing beasts we'd eradicated in the past. The Tlin with their acidic sprayers, or the Clavun with their razer sharp teeth and claws were much, much more intimidating foes.

At first.

We captured some of them far from what we now know is their home system. We had believed that we did so in stealth, but we were unfamiliar with their forms of communication. Said communications were very rudimentary for a space-faring race. We began interrogating them fervently, trying to learn everything we could about their colonies, culture, and military.

We discovered that the ship we had captured was itself a colony, one that had been launched into the void hundreds of years prior. What had started as a colonization effort had over time evolved into a scientific experiment to determine the physiological and psychological impact of deep-space travel over the course of generations. We scoffed at this.

Their technology wasn't particularly advanced, but it was different. Unique in a lot of ways. We learned a lot, but not about anything important. Perhaps if they had been able to tell us more about their species, we might have backed off. Attempted to make amends for what we had done. No, probably not. Doing so would have demonstrated weakness to those who would have our necks. Our fate was likely sealed the moment this species was discovered.

We learned that they had sent a communication back to their people when their communication devices received a response. The communications were very basic, and it had taken a long time for the messages to pass. Despite the rudimentary nature of the communication, we were able to translate the incoming message.

"Sit tight. We're on our way."

It was mere moments after we translated the message that their first ships arrived. These ships were far better equipped for warfare than the one we had captured, but they didn't immediately fire upon us. Instead, they sent a message demanding the return of their ship and its crew.

This was impossible, though. Once we determined that the interrogation had run its course, we vivisected the crew to learn more about their physiology. Naturally, they didn't survive the process. The ship itself had been scrapped. We could give them nothing other than what came naturally to us.

War.

That first fight was the most intense we had seen to date. We lost many ships and people, but so did they. Both sides fell back, resulting in a draw. We then prepared for the coming battles with glee. Both sides sent scouts, and we skirmished several times.

Like in many wars prior, we captured several of their soldiers. Unlike other wars, they captured several of ours. We were introduced to the concept of a prisoner exchange. Were it not for the members of our nobility that had been captured, we would have laughed at the concept. But we gladly gave them back their people in exchange for our nobles.

Battles were raged time and time again, and we were under the foolish impression that we were winning. However, their ships were much easier to build than our own. Our ships were beacons of perfection, blending warfare and luxury in a perfect balance. Their ships didn't have entertainment modules, full service cafeterias, or anywhere near adequately sized sleeping quarters. We were evenly matched in our production capacities, but because their ships were so sparse they were able to build three ships in the time it took us to build one.

We didn't notice this at first because we had such a vast numerical advantage over them. Even as our fleets began to become evenly numbered, though, our confidence didn't waver. Their physiology suggested weakness when it came to ground combat. We believed it to be simply a matter of time before we found their colonies and ended this war.

But they found ours first.

Their first attempt at the invasion of Plexicor B was an embarrassment to both sides. We showed them our physical superiority, but winning cost many more casualties than we had expected. However, they returned with better armor and weaponry, having learned from their mistakes in the previous attempt. The second invasion laid bare our weaknesses, shattered our confidence, and cost us a planet.

Still, they allowed the civilians to evacuate. To us, this showed weakness. A lack of resolve. It demonstrated to us that we could still be victorious. Every civilian can be a soldier, so our ranks would never thin if they weren't willing to eradicate them. As we pressed more and more civilians into service, this belief was reinforced.

But we were wrong.

Sparing our civilians instilled a sense of thankfulness within them. Our soldiers, previously more than willing to give their lives to kill, were now hesitating to fire the killing shots. They began to surrender more often. In some cases, they refused to fight at all. They knew the enemy was merciful, and would capture them instead of killing them. Why give their lives when they didn't have to?

As the humans invaded more and more of our colonies, we found ourselves becoming more and more brutal with our policies. It wasn't long before our leadership began to be resented by our own people. Things came to a head when we were finally forced to execute a certain noble that had decided to surrender rather than fighting to the last.

Our leaders called him sniveling, cowardly, and treacherous. Our people said he was pragmatic, intelligent, and loyal to his soldiers. Mercy was demanded, but only humans are merciful. His execution marked the beginning of a revolution that we were not prepared to put down. One that was bolstered by our own slaves.

We were at war on two fronts.

Our empire fought viciously, but for every world we subdued one was lost to the humans. By the time we ousted the traitors and restored peace among our people, the war was all but lost. We had fewer ships than the humans did. Our soldiers were no longer able to receive supplies. Grand construction after grand construction fell, until all that was left was our cradle system.

All the while, the humans were offering us the chance to surrender. Rubbing their superiority in our face, we thought. We should have accepted a peace, or at least a cease-fire, but instead we continued fighting. It's all we've ever known. They destroyed the last of our fleets and the shipyards to rebuild them. They conquered the last of our worlds.

Then they punished us.

They called us a blight upon the galaxy. A race of slaving warmongers. Our slaves, now free and living in harmony with the humans, called for our extermination or enslavement. Blood for blood. The humans wouldn't heed such a call, though. Instead, they claimed to be merciful as they set about surrounding our star with unbelievably large metal beams.

The mercy of these humans was nothing more than a twisted cruelty. They had let our people live so that they would fight us. They had traded our soldiers back to us to save their own. And now, they were installing solar plants around our sun. They supplied us with hydroponics equipment and heat generators so that we could continue to live when the darkness finally fell. Their fleets stayed in our systems to harvest the power, and to ensure that we continued to live in the darkness that they claim we created.

For our crimes, they caged our sun.