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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/arclightmagus on 2024-11-25 23:09:44+00:00.

I’d like to say that I think of myself as a storyteller. In truth, it is as close as I can come to a true profession. Otherwise, I’m simply a willing pair of hands, who goes where the work is. But perhaps I am getting ahead of myself.

Behold, humanity! A ragtag species living at the edge of galactic society!

I know, I know. How did such a species reach the stars or perhaps are humans so utterly backward that they can only exist at the edge of galactic society?

Well I’ll tell you. Albeit with a bit of license as even though the official histories have recorded some of what happened, so very much has been lost.

My maternal grandparents, an electrical engineer and a librarian, two reasonable professions for their time, Earth Calendar 2031, were young and in love. Well, I say young, but both were out of college and working in their chosen professions, having met via a mutual acquaintance.

Meanwhile, my paternal grandparents hadn’t met yet and were still finishing secondary school in two different countries, which is apparently a subdivision of planetary regions by politicial, social, and economic boundaries. Sometimes also geographical, but given some of the stories I have heard, even that was no barrier.

However, it was in that same year that a Galactic Federation probe came through the system and loudly broadcast at the human race (and anyone else listening) some kind of signal. Apparently, the red tape lauded as being famous for slowing down efforts disappeared under the aegis of such a signal, one that couldn’t be hidden from a single inhabitant (save perhaps those utterly incapable of receiving such signals).

Within weeks, the signal was deciphered. The contents were chilling to everyone who came to know it, and despite official plans to cover it up, it leaked anyway.

***Attention: Resources Detected and to be officially mined. All sapient beings are hereby directed to vacate this region of space. Official mining to commence in .***

So while we could comprehend what was being said, we had no idea as to our timeline. Many tried to call it a mass hoax and urged people and the various politicians of the world to get on with their lives. After all, there were shareholder profits to worry about.

I’m grateful that none of my grandparents listened.

As it turned out, the timing was approximately 5 Earth months. This much was recorded in the official record of the mining of the Sol solar system.

Humanity found out more when the various cargo vessels started showing up and spacesuit-clad aliens began wandering out and either outright kidnapping people or appearing to try to barter for people to come with them.

Not all were successful, but enough were successful and there were enough craft coming and going from Earth, sometimes called Terra, that eventually translators were possible and enough armed responses had happened and ships ‘acquired’ by the governments of the world that the continuing stream of ships was at least more polite in their inquiries.

Through means that I’ll get into later, both sets of my grandparents managed to have negotiated transport off of Terra and to someplace where they at least wouldn’t be slaves.

From what I am told and have seen, they were lucky. The alien who made the deal with them still made out well, but was apparently not interested in slaves. While I can guess why, I won’t bore you with that now.

Anyway, as mentioned, the mining started at the 5 month mark and at the 4 month 15 day mark, the last alien controlled ships took off and none came to replace them.

Those who had set up to sell the various alien species plants, animals, food, drink, entertainment, and more were utterly despondent by the 3rd day. Although, laughably so. They were so concerned with the lack of business and their capital investments in such ventures, they didn’t stop to ask why.

The mining vessel, if you can call it that, was gargantuan, by human standards of the time. Stretching over 10 kilometers long (which is apparently about 341 ulims), they began at Jupiter, making massive detonations in the gas giant and funneling it up to the massive vessel. The hows and whys are massively technical and not why I’m telling this story, but suffice to say it was done.

This visible leaching of the solar system’s primary gas giant was disturbing to the people still on Terra and they watched on. Some, coming to understand the vessel as a miner and recalling the message, began to reach out into the void with various signals from the captured, but largely disabled crafts, calling for others to come and save them, offering various rewards, including slaves taken from their fellow beings, first pick of various cultural artifacts, and material items that were probably lacking any more than their elemental value.

After a week of mining the gas giant, the mining ship split away fragments. These fragments, each a ship unto itself and each over 50 ulims long, moved to each planet or planetoid. The one that arrived over Terra didn’t even pause. As soon as it reached orbit, it fired beams at the planet and well… this is where the story gets strange.

I’ve met a few people who claim to have family who survived or have seen official recordings or similar and the story is never the same.

Some claimed the atmosphere caught fire and the world was burned to a crisp. Others claimed that the beams hit the ocean and boiled it away, cutting into the core, but turning the atmosphere toxic and boiling. Others still have claimed that the beams cut off at the last possible moment and that Terra is still there, with all who stayed behind.

Having read one of what passes for official mining records, the planet known as Terra was cored out, the nickel-iron core being quite a valuable concentration and the nitrogen and CO2 siphoned from what remained of the atmosphere, both being exceptionally common in most sapient species’ breathing supplies. Absolutely no mention is made of what happened to the surface or the people/animals/plants living on it.

Similarly, the Galactic Federation Mining Guild is ‘so very sorry for what happened’ and ‘humans should have made their cradle more clearly indicated’, the latter would have apparently granted some degree of legal protection for the system, but it was too little too late.

And so humanity persists. Largely ragtag; consisting of travelers, slaves, and oddjob folks like myself.

So you might be wondering, where’s the bright point in all this? Where’s the happy ending? Or what’s all this leading up to?

Does humanity have a secret new homeworld or some grandship which will make one?

Laughably, no. Humanity isn’t even self-governing anymore.

We are one of several species that have lost their cradles. Some by disease or natural causes, others mismanagement of their own doing, and others still by the failings of Galactic Federation incompetence. So to say we are alone in this would be a lie. But few species manage more than a generation with the loss of their cradle, without help.

In theory, we had help. In practice, the Galactic Federation couldn’t get out of its own way to even try to render aid.

But we survived anyway.

Those who ended up as slaves were at least subject to the protections afforded them by Galactic Federation for slaves, regardless of being from an unrecognized species.

The rest of us? Well, there’s always dirty jobs that need doing, for better or worse, until they got around to recognizing us as sapient beings who deserved at least some degree of protection under what passes for law.

I perhaps sound bitter. In truth I am, but at the same time, I have never let it dampen my joy as being in a broader galaxy. The stories of my grandparents, living and commuting to offices ulims away, bombarded by propaganda for nationalism, consumerism, and classism, makes Terra sound terrible to someone like me, who has known nothing but galactic society.

This isn’t to say that galactic society is any easy task. But it’s much easier for me to navigate than it was for my parents or my grandparents.

And perhaps that’s part of what made me take up storytelling.

None of the aliens… no, that’s not quite right. None of the other species that I deal with seems to have storytelling.

It’s not that the idea of stories or fables or even lies aren’t comprehended. It’s just that so few of the cultural ideas made the transition when they left their cradles and joined galactic society. They still have some stories of past and there’s always the various boastings of shows of aggression or prowess, but those tend to be on the individual and not in great tellings of their species’ past.

And so I have taken to becoming a storyteller for each of my crews. Learning what tales various species can and will tell me, working alongside them for a shipment or three, and telling the tales of the previous crews.

The slaying of Galagdir, a mighty ocean creature of the Durith homeworld, by an unkind child.

The ascension of Rumoth, a great crafter of sky-ships.

The curse of Timip, a Rethic whose breath was so foul, it could corrode gold.

To name a few.

This isn’t to say that there aren’t others like me, but most are more interested in the true histories or the official records, believing that if it isn’t in the official records, it isn’t worth knowing.

I disagree and given the sheer responses of my various crews, I would wager they do too.

I even had a Captain offer to keep me on simply to …

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