Emotions can fuel a revolution, prevent a war, incite works of art, but since the turn of the Third Millenium all of that has become a commodity.
The heavens have opened to us, cosmic travels and commerce had found their way into the every-day life. Human Children were taking remedial courses in Intergalactic Relations. Adolescents and the elderly were part of the Universal WorkWay, which consisted of hundreds of billions of different species. They worked together on The Way. Buddhist it may sound, it was more primarily a way for Chairman of quadrant H, sector 133 to maintain workplace productivity.
We needed to build the TimeWay by becoming a WorkWay, to facilitate travel to the further reaches of Intergalactica. As you know, travel from point A to point B takes time, and when 100 billion Astronomical Units are between you and the nearest checkpoint, it takes a few lifetimes to clock in. That's what the TimeWay is for.
The WorkWay was officially contracted in the year 3203, a century after we made very physical contact with our first outside race. These were the Triclayon, or as it was translated to us at least. They acted as Networkers for Intergalactica, which we would discover to be much larger than we had expected. Networkers would go through fifty generations between checkpoints, finally making it to an untouched system, having followed their Centre Star. The next step meant radio peeping, assimilating the language from afar, assessing customs, and calculating what losses could be made while maintaining racial integrity.
This is where we learned just how alone we were in the Universe. When the Networkers made contact, it was quite jovial. The third world war had already unified many of the nations, considering that our population had been decimated to a mere eighth of what it was in the 21st century, leaving about one billion left to carry on. Little did we know that the Networkers were watching and also calculating just how much of our gene integrity would be preserved once assimilated within the eight billion species of Intergalactica's Seed Vaults. We were like a drop of marigold pigment in a cosmic cup of tea.
When it came to maintaining our culture over the next hundreds of years, we lost more than we gained. Racial and gender difference was frowned upon, leaving those who were registered in Intergalactica to dress the same. There was no such geno-centric guideline beyond that. We could live with who we wished, where we wished, and for however long we wished. There was plenty of space and plenty of interaction to go around. Therein lies the rub.
I have mentioned 'those who were registered in Intergalactica', because not all individuals were. Sure, you may wonder why this is so. With so many freedoms and privileges, resources and open trade, why would some choose to stand against Intergalactica? I have yet to mention the assimilation into this empire of sorts, which included a gentrification of emotion.
Humanity has always been quite powerful emotionally, driven to create and destroy and rebuild under the muse of emotion. But as an empire, Intergalactica could not operate with these unsophisticated means of aggressive communication. "Cold, hard, and true. Intergalactica through and through," this was a saying that was tossed around. As it was still so difficult to travel from one end of the Universe to the other, customs were lost, confused, and mutated within a lightyear, leaving one end of the Universe entirely out of touch with what could be considered passe on the other side. This proved difficult when it came to conformity and communication, so it was, for lack of a better term, outlawed.
As new home bases were assimilated into the empire, around 10% of each planetary system rebelled, some even attempted to start wars against the 'aliens'. They stayed on their own planets at times, refusing the free space craft provided by Networkers, wishing to remain true to their own empires, to rebuild toward purity.
In a passive act toward gene-centric living, some systems contained themselves and cut themselves off from any sort of travel outside of their sun's gaze. Other systems merged together to unify against this seemingly unjust empire of mud-people. There is an irony to this latter regime, as they unified into a kind of mud-culture on their own. The focus was less on their genes, though, although it was easier to understand than the truth of the matter.
"We must maintain The Feeling." Arch Duke 65 was announcing to the group today, this time in sector 11 of a quadrant they refused to acknowledge.
"We are what we feel, the hurt, the fatigue, the resent, the tear. Tell me, young man. What do you feel?!" She reached toward a SimSimee, a creature dressed in rags, but standing tall. Covered in fur, but wearing gold medallions about his neck.
"I... Don't know." He responded through voco-trans. The Arch Duke was having none of this, and dramatically flung her hair back in a show of incredulity.
"OH No- no- NO! You FEEL! Come to me, child. Express!"
The young creature walked up toward her on all fours, a long leathery tail in tow. He then stood next to her tall 5'0'' frame, looking up. She cooed to him, rubbing his chest.
"We all feel for you. We will rehabilitate you! WE FEEL!" The crowd repeated this back.
"WE FEEL!"
And he seemed flustered, his pin-prick eyes looking around the dark warehouse.
"Worry."
There was an uproar, and he smiled, and was carted off to the side. The Arch Duke pretended to faint, a few side-hands coming up behind her with a regal cape. She sat on the edge of the stage-like setting. The crowd sat where they once stood, on the ground.
"Speak amongst yourselves. Feel each other. Sense the fear, the hubris, the affection. Let me bask in your glory. Let me bask in the riches of my glorious inheritance in The Feeling."
In a crowded galaxy, in an abundant universe, in a deep empire older than they could imagine-- they felt as alone as the only child crying at the playground. Alone like the last chick to fly.
Appropriately, they were alone together. The Light of The Empire was born within the murky waters of complacency. The Feeling would evolve into The Truth, and then Truth turned to Light. The most guiding principle of space-travel. Without a star, there is no goal. And now that the TimeWay was being completed, those stars were easier to get to. The Light of The Empire was on its way to the Centre Light of Intergalactica.
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