Monday, January 9, 2012


The Trial of Anakim

Anakim had never seen a trial before, let alone on the Mothership, but now that he was a part of one (the accused part) he was quite sure he'd never like to see one again. "Your Honor, I present exhibit A" the Prosecutor exclaimed as he pushed the power button on the hologram. The three-dimensional image of himself was unmistakeable, and so too was the image of the human he was conversing with. The sound was broken up slightly by the static, but as the scene echoed to the Judge, Jury, and throughout the courtroom, the change in facial expressions was a sure sign of their reaction. Not good, Anakim thought to himself. Not good. "Do you recognise this human?" The Prosecuter asked. "Of course. As King, we had many conversations." Anakim replied, not wanting to give any ground in the direction he knew the prosecutor was heading. The courtroom was silent in anticipation. They all knew the fate of millions was hanging in the balance of Lady Justice's scales. Everyone knew the Law had been broken, and most had at least second hand contributed to the lawlessness of this blue utopian planet, though few would admit to it in the courtroom. Fortunate for them, Anakim thought to himself glumly, the cloaking capability of his race was remarkable, at least enough so that one of his people could walk freely among the Humans without giving away their identity, even to other Nephilim. There was no way of knowing how many of his people had walked amongst the Humans, but if there was an indication in how many were attending the trial, it was many. "Could you please establish with the Court what your place among the Humans was at the time of the alleged conversation?" Anakim noticed the fluctuation in tone when the Prosecuter said the word "alleged" but decided he'd do best to ignore it. "I was the King's advisor." You could hear a needle drop, the courtroom was so silent. "And what is the context of the conversation we are watching?" The prosector asked with an exaggerated gesture towards the hologram that was playing the scene in a loop. Anakim knew the answer, but he also knew that no matter which way he spun it, the result was the same. "We were discussing Succession." Keep it simple, he thought, let the Prosecuter dig if he wants to. "And in this discussion of Succession, what conclusions did you reach?" This question was for the dramatic effect, Anakim knew, since they had just spent the hour previous in silence to the hologram's witness. "We decided that the Nephilim had usurped their original position of Advisor to Humans." The tension in the courtroom was palpable. Every Nephilim in attendance knew the story, but to hear it in the courtroom was entirely different, especially when the fate of an entire planet was at stake.

The Prosecuter let the silence hang in the air for a few moments and exchanged knowing glances with the Jury. "And what was the consensus on approaching this 'usurpation'?" Anakim knew there was no answer to this question that wouldn't prove his guilt, but there was nothing he could do but answer. "We decided to change the govenment." The sharp intake of breath could be heard from several sources across the courtroom. "And what sort of government did you and the-" With a dramatic pause, the prosecutor successfully conveyed his distaste for the next word, "-Human King conclude would be a better alternative?" Again, the court knew the answer, but the Prosecutor knew the value of interrogation, and Anakim was damning himself with every word. "We decided that the humans deserved to be represented, and the ony way to do that was to dissolve the Kingship and form a Democracy." It amazed Anakim that the courtroom could still find surprise in his words, let alone so many in unison. The Prosecutor began to pace dramatically with his arms behind his back, as if saddened by what he had to say next. "You are aware that Democracy has not been introduced to the Humans as of yet, are you not Anakim?" "Yes, I'm aware." "Then could you please tell the court why you felt the need to break the Law and introduce a system the Humans are not ready for yet?" The last part of the statement Anakim wanted to argue against, he knew the Humans better than anyone in this courtroom, and they were far more advanced than any of the Nephilim were willing to admit. He also knew the Prosecutor wanted him to argue this, and the audience would consider it another confession instead of a justification. "The Humans are on the verge of civil war, and the King and I felt it could be stopped if we could give the Humans incentive to get involved." He knew the court was not going to hear it like he was saying it, but there was no way around it, so he went on, despite the guilt he was confessing. "The King is half Nephilim, you recall, and in the course of many conversations he came to the conclusion that the only way to govern was to allow the people to govern themselves." Anakim paused to let his statement settle on the court, "And so I made the decision to share my knowledge with the King as it was his intuition that told him Democracy existed." He knew the courtroom would not understand his usurpation of tradition, but his options were limited. As the Prosecutor continued his dramatic pacing, Anakim did his best to maintain the image of confidence that had got him the position of King's advisor in the first place. "So you are saying you broke a three-thousand year old Law for no other reason than the King of the Humans had his first rational thought?" The audience laughed quickly, and just as quickly fell silent again, waiting for the reply. "I'm saying the King demonstrated what is traditionally referred to as 'First Thought', therefore, I felt it was time to introduce the concept." "And could you please explain to the court why you felt the need to skip the traditional thousand year introduction of said concept?" This was the one moment he knew was coming, and so he waited until he knew he had every eye in the courtroom directed on him. "Because the tradition is wrong," the courtroom was not ready for this bluntness and almost in unison, all in attendance broke out into whispered conversation. "ORDER! ORDER!" The sound of the gavel was louder but less effective than the sound of the Judge's rising voice. "I WILL have order in the courtroom." After a few seconds of listening to the diminishing conversation, the Prosecuter proceeded. "Wrong?" He did a good job sounding incredulous, "Who are you to say a tradition as long practiced as Advisorship is wrong?" Anakim was quickly getting tired of this charade and let his tone imply it as he replied, "When did it become acceptable to interbreed with an alien race in the first place?" He knew he would get a reaction from the court over his last statement, but the eruption of the crowd surprised even him. After a full two minutes of banging the gavel and yelling for order, the courtroom finally settled down enough to allow the Prosector to speak. "Do you have a wife?" The prosector asked innocuosly. "Yes." "And is she Human?" "Yes." "Do you have children?" "Yes." "Are they Nephilim?" "Yes." Anakim knew where this was heading. "And so, even though you yourself have children and wife from these Humans, you would tell the courtroom that it is wrong to interbreed with an alien race?" He was backed into a corner and he knew it. Oh well, he thought to himself, it was a good life while it lasted. "I took a wife as ordered, and had children, as ordered, and it has been fifty years since my wife died, and ten years since my boys have come to manhood and taken wives for themselves. But that is my life before the conversation in question. I made my decision on the King's request for information, not the other way around." Anakim knew he was dead, but at this point he was trying to save the Humans and the half-breeds that were on trial by association. "The Humans are ready for Democracy, and it is wrong for us to take it upon ourselves to decide when they should 'receive' what is their inheritance." The Prosecutor had stopped pacing, and was waiting for what he must thought was going to be a damning confession, so Anakim went on, "We have interbred countless civilizations in the name of 'assistance' and 'advisorship' and never once questioned the moral authority of doing so. This race deserves more than the mining proffession we have introduced to them, and they deserve more than pyramids and gold as a reward for the worship they give us." The tension in the courtroom was palpable, and growing, "I accept my guilt, and refrain from asking mercy of the court for myself, but I beg the court to be lenient on the Humans, they are unaware of their potential and instead of guidance and advisorship from us, we should be giving them the freedom to discover for themselves what they are truly capable of. We do nothing to assist them, and though it is only my opinion, our presence is a hinderance to their growth, and we would be wise to cease interference in their genetic code." At this, as Anakim knew it would, the courtroom again exploded into pandemonium, nor would it cease to the hammering of the gavel, instead, the gavel seemed to give the numerous voices in the room a sense of rhythym to their outcry.

The Jury took only ten minutes to deliberate, and not a person in attendance was surprised by the guilty verdict that ensued. As the judge banged the gavel in judgement, Anakim barely heard the sentencing, "-ing guilty, I pronounce your fate to be one with the Humans your advisorship has damned. Let the Purge be a lesson to all in the courtroom of the consequences of interfering with the traditions of the Nephilim. The race of Humans has been comprimised, and so too has the honor of the Nephilim. The stain of this event shall be wiped clean." It was over, he was sentenced to die in the flood that was to wipe out the humans. He was ironically grateful for the shackles on his feet as they allowed him the time to formulate his idea. Silently, he was led by his guards to the teleportation deck of the Mothership as a prisoner to his execution. He still had time.



For a moment he had no idea where he was, or who he was, let alone why he was face down in the mud of a riverbed, unable to move, not even a finger. The ringing sound in his ears was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of cheering he could hear echoing throughout the valley, but neither were loud enough to dull the excruciating pain reverberating throughout his head. Some Giant, he thought to himself as he felt himself succumbing to the fog creeping over his mind. One stone takes down the Great Goliath. His head was swimming with images despite the enormous amount of effort it seemed to take him. Spurratic, unable to grasp anything coherent, he could only watch his life play out like some sad play skipping over years at a time, both backwards and forwards. Had it really come to this? he thought to himself dimly. Everything seemed to be slipping so fast, and all his effort to even twitch a finger had failed completely. Goliath of Gath knew he was dead; the dim but steadily rising sound of footsteps was a constant reminder that even a crushed skull like his could not ignore. All he could do was listen to the sound of death approaching and painfully ponder the irony of such innocent sounding foosteps and what they brought with them. As the sound of the Israelite army's growing cheer reverberated through the valley, Goliath's last thought was how strange the sound of the footsteps of the boy with the sling, increased. For a brief second the sounds seemed in tune, becoming a sad symphony sarinating Goliath into the underworld that was his subconscious. The images never stopped flashing.

"Goliath!" the sound of his mother's yelling broke through the excitement of the five boys, like the sound of a wolf on a flock of sheep. The five were frozen as solid as any of the statues of Beelzebub at the temple they went to every sunday; every one of the boys felt as if Baal himself were suddenly watching them. The second time they heard their mother the sound was so sudden and close they forgot they were holding Goliath upside down over the wall of the fence, nearly dropping him. In fact, if not for the strange animal sound Goliath managed as he began his fall, the boys would have droppped him completely. The city of Gath was not near as big as its neighbor Ekron, but was sizable in its own right. At least sizable enough to boast a wall that could injure even the biggest of the giants. Of course, there being only five Giants left in the whole kingdom still young enough to engage in war, it made at least four of the brothers laugh that much more that it would be from the inside out that they threatened to injure their youngest brother, Goliath. Lahmi was the one who thought of the idea, but of course, he can never do anything without Sippai cheering him on. Even though Isbbi would usually contain their mischeviousness, Six (named for his unseemly additional appendage to each of his limbs) would almost always be the one to call an issue settled in favor of the mischeviousness.
"Where are you boys?!" echoed the sound of their quickly approaching mother. Since none of them knew how to explain the current scenario, the brothers quickly set Goliath back upright, and with quick whispers of vague threats in the near future should he say a word, they brushed him off. The timing of the scene presented by the boys as their mother rounded the corner suggested there had been much practice at hiding, leaving their mother no clues as to what may have been occuring previous to her intrusion. Having encountered similar situations many times before, she knew the road that these questions would go and that they were very rarely worth her time in pursuing, so she quickly skipped to the point. "Goliath", she said, "the Captain stopped by and asked if I knew why you would miss your assignment today". Tapping her foot impatiently, and folding her arms several seconds passed by without a sound. "Well?" Goliath had no idea what to say. How do you explain to your mother that your brothers thought it would be funny to make the only injury a Giant would ever face on those walls occur from the inside out, and still save himself from being thrown over the minute they were alone again? After another akward silence, Goliath's mother finally stamped her foot and with a sigh of frustration. "It's a good thing the Captain understands how hard it is to be the last of the Giants around here, or he'd be sending you to the infirmary for this. He says to report to him as soon as your Giant legs can carry you there and report for duty. You're to go on march against the Israelites, and be the 'man in the midst'" At this Lahmi and Sippai simultaneously broke out in laughter. "Ha ha ha Goliath's gonna go revenge our Great Anakim!". "The Great Goliath of Gath!" Sippai mimicked as if he were the announcer at the games. Lahmi almost choked out in between his guffaws and even Six was slapping his six fingered hand against his thigh he was laughing so hard. Laughing as drunk sailors, the four remaining brothers wove their way toward the marketplace, leaving Goliath alone with his irate mother. "Now let's go! Captain Benob seemed really impatient, and you're this close (Goliath thought it was ironic she would use such gigantic fingers to accentuate how small something was) to the infirmary and discharge". Her tone softened. "With only a handful of Giants left in the kingdom, we have the reputation of an entire people on our shoulders, so GO!" The last word accompanied with a shooing motion akin to the way she would scare off stray monkeys trying to steal fruit from the trees. Goliath ran.
"We spend a king's fortune on this brass, and you can't even do us the decency of showing up on time to wear it?!" The sound of his Captains voice yelling at him was a familiar one, and not as uncomfortable as having to act as if spittle was not quickly gathering on his face from such close proximity of yelling. Goliath had to wonder how the man could spit so far unintentionally. "Get it on and report! We've made it as far south as Socoh, and we can't take any more losses so we need you down there to be the 'man in the midst'". Goliath knew that no Giant could turn down the offer to be the "man in the midst" as that is what his people had done since Anakim's time, and would continue to do until the giants were wiped out of existence; which was only a few deaths away, Goliath thought sadly. As the Captain left, Goliath began his routine that always ended with him feeling like a slow motion version of himself. He never understood why everyone thought just because he was a giant he could wear armor that weighed as much as a donkey. He'd even picked up a donkey once just to test his theory, and though it was a well-fed donkey, the measurement was not far off.
The desert heat was going to be the death of him one day, Goliath thought to himself. Marching was one thing, but marching with the weight of what seemed all the brass in the Philistine empire was another thing completely, and why he had to march so many miles with the armor on was beyond him. With the Sun in the center of the sky, the only shade he could find shelter in was the meager shade provided by twisting his head to one side so the enormous brass helmet could blot out the sun. This quickly led to twitching in his neck and was far more uncomfortable than the sun, though he learned that if he took turns between the two tortures, he might be able to make it. As the Captain went riding by, in the opposite direction of the march, towards the rear (probably to spit on some other poor soul), Goliath looked at the horse the Captain was riding with a deep envy. A horse may have been able to carry him, though unlikely, due to his armor there was a good chance he outweighed the horse, and no camel in the world would let him come within a "Giant's length" without spitting and curling it's lip at him. So, footstep by overburdened footstep Goliath made the journey to the mountains of Socoh. Upon arrival, Goliath gave himself over to the exhaustion that had been his constant companion for the past week; sleeping soundly through the next two days.
"Goliath!" The beautiful woman that had been in his arms suddenly shapeshifted into his mother. Realising that he must be dreaming, he tried to turn over and go back to the dream he wanted. "Suit up, the Israelites are here!" She yelled. "Just lemme sleep till midday ma, I'll get up then, I promise", he murmured to the fading image of his mother. "Get up Giant! We have a war to fight!" As consciousness started seeping back into his mind, he realised he was in Socoh and what was happening; throwing the last bit of sleepiness out of him like a splash of cold water. Jumping out of his straw bed, he peeked his head out of the tent assigned to him (they still didn't understand a Giant needs a little more headroom), and looked for the source of the call. The smell of cooking sausage filled his nose, and if not for the insistent yelling of his name, he would've been willing to spend the day locating it's source, but the call was getting louder, and some of the soldiers were starting to take it up too, so there was no hiding. Pulling back into his tent, he went through the routine of dressing in his armor. Aside from the discomfort of having to bend almost in half to move around, he was able to dress himself in less time than usual, leaving the tent with the sound of grinding metal and a rumbling stomach. They're gonna send me down there without food, he thought to himself bitterly. I might join the Israelite side if they'll feed me sausage that smelled like that. But with a bitter sigh, he remembered the Israeli's didn't eat sausage. Sad, he thought to himself, sausage was his version of heaven, and he was glad Baal didn't mind if he ate it. Even if Baal didn't allow it, he was pretty sure he'd still eat sausage, damnation or not. The aroma was strong and almost enough for Goliath to forget his duty and follow, but fortunately, Captain Benob solved his dilemna for him and walking up, handed him a plate of the sausages that had to be the source of the wonderful aroma. "Eat quick, we need you down there." Captain Benob said in-between chewing his own, "They're all waiting for you. Time to make your ancestors proud son". With a clap on the shoulder he could barely reach, the Captain walked off in the direction of the closest campfire "Who's got the dice?", was the last thing Goliath heard as he made his way in the opposite direction towards the front line where he knew the Commander was waiting for him.
The walk was a short one, but allowed Goliath time to reflect on his ill-begotten luck of being a Giant. He wished he lived back in the old days of his ancestors when his kind were the power holders and the decision makers. When a Giant could walk down the streets of any city in Philistine holding his head high, knowing that his people were many and his life was long. He'd only been alive for one hundred and ninety winters, and though that was considered young among giants, he'd already made and lost too many friends to old age, enough so, that he stayed to himself amongst the soldiers, lest he make another friend to watch die before he even gets a wrinkle. Stupid flood, he thought to himself, he had no idea why the decision had been made to wipe it all clean. Though his family had a long and prestigious oral history, it had all been lost with his kind, so he had only the stories his mother told him, who had heard them from her mother, and so on. Goliath knew that his history had been lost, and power would never be his, but he couldn't help but wonder what his ancestors had thought about their grandchildren's place in this new world. Would they have championed the human's wars? Would they bleed for a God they never knew? Goliath's mother had told him stories of the Giants who came down from the sky, and that was where they were supposed to return. But, how do you go up to the sky? He tried as hard as he could to imagine a chariot flying through the sky, but no matter which way he thought it, it kept falling and crashing. Since he knew how it felt to be (almost) dropped from a ten cubit wall, he knew it would be worse if he fell from all the way up there. No, it has to be a myth, he thought to himself sadly, making his way through to the front line. They may stare at me, and let me fight their battles for them, but they would never follow me, he thought to himself sadly. The stories his mother told him had to be just a myth because he had no idea how a "wheel within a wheel" would be able to stay in the sky.
The soldiers on the front line had been expecting Goliath and parted as he made his way through to the front, where he knew the Commander would be. With a quick salute, he greeted the Commander. "Sir, Goliath of Gath reporting." "I know who you are Goliath, now get out there and put the fear in em." The Commander said dismissively, chewing and talking at the same time. "We've got leagues to travel, and we don't have the supplies to hold out for long, so we need you to put everything you've got into it. That's an order." With that, the Commander walked away signaling the horn bearer to make the call. The sound of the horn could be heard by both armies, Goliath knew, and he would be expected to walk down into the middle of the field (in this case a valley, and it was a pretty steep descent from what it looked like), and make a scene of himself. His brothers had told him stories of this "Man in the Midst" business and said it was not for the light hearted, that's why Baal made Giants whose hearts were heavier and bigger. Goliath could almost believe this as his heart was pounding so hard he thought it was going to dent his armor. But he was a Giant, and he had his ancestors to think about, so with one last bite of his (perfectly made, he thought) sausage, he started the clumsy trek down the mountainside and towards the valley where the Israelites could see him clearly.

As the sound of footsteps grew closer, and the cheer of the Israelite's army grew louder, Goliath knew he was breathing his last breaths, and sadly, all he could think about was how much he was going to miss those sausages he'd been eating every morning for these past forty days. He had thought for sure the Israelites would retreat after the first week with no champion. He'd even begun to feel some pride come through from his ancestors for how brave and loud he had been in cursing down those Israelite's and their Yayveh God (or something like that, he could never pronounce it right). He'd even begun to boast that his God Baal was stronger than this Yayveh (or whatever). Forty days he had carried this ridiculous amount of brass and iron up and down that hill, and forty days he'd gone back to his tent, exhausted, but proud he had done his ancestors honor. Every day he'd thought for sure would be the last, and he'd gone into today with all the pride of an undefeated warrior. But now, all he could do was listen as the sound of the child that had broken that illusion approached. A kid with a sling. He knew his brothers were going to laugh if they heard the story, he could only hope it wouldn't reach them. He was almost anxious for it to end, and with resignation, gave up trying to move his gigantic frame. All the good that donkey of brass did me, he thought to himself sarcastically, lying face down in the riverbed mud. He knew he should've waited for the kid to attack, his brothers would have, but how could he have forseen the blinding that would occur as soon as he attempted a charge on the boy. He remembered seeing the boy making his way across the valley, and was still unsure how to react as the boy picked what had to be stones out of the river. How was he supposed to know there was so much sweat sitting inside his helmet? He could still feel the sting in his eye from the salt of it, and no matter what he thought about it, there was no taking it back. Oh the sting of it! Then the frustration of blinking (try wiping your eyes with a brass gauntlet), with vision clearing up with just enough time to see a white blur racing straight towards his forehead! The Pain! The sound of his skull crushing inward was strange enough to be a curiosity to him in any other situation, but was quickly forgotten as reality came back when he felt a pulling motion on his waist. He knew the feel of his greatsword being drawn. Strange, he thought to himself as he was lying there paralyzed by the single white stone that had struck him in the forehead. That sword must weigh more than boy holding it, he thought dimly. How did the boy manage to pick it up? Goliath of Gath was still unsure as he felt the iron bite into his neck.

Land of the Blind

Land of the Blind

The Council was about to begin, everyone gathered sensed it, yet still not a single conversation floating through the spacious but spartan chamber held even a rumor of why. galactic Councils were called only when there is an immenent threat or the Induction ceremony when a species or planet is welcomed into the Federation. Neither of these scenarios had been reported in over 180 G.C. (Galactic Cycle), and when even though some of the outmost quadrants were still unmapped, it would be a statistical anomoly outside computation for an evolved species to make it's way to the Alpha Quadrant where the Council held it's meetings.

The mood was tense as the multitude of species made their way to their seats, eyeing each other warily. Many of the Council members still remembered being at war with some of the other Council members they now had to co-operate with. Though complicated by their differences, the Council Chamber was equipped with the newest version of the Rosetta V-12, making communication much easier, though it was sometimes disorienting to hear the voice in your mind and watch lips move from such a distance.

There was a general feeling of apprehension among those gathered, as it was all too appearant there would be grave news they were about to receive, so when the chime rang, which was the the signal for the beginning of the Council, every voice halted simultaneously. As well, every body made it's way to it's assigned seat with speed betraying their uneasiness. This would not be good. Silence hung in the space between them as they worried and waited. For many of those gathered this was their first Council, and unaware of what was to be expected, it was easy prey for those that knew what to expect, seeing the lack thereof in their counterparts, calculating. Even those who were fortunate enough to have experienced a Council were nervous of the revelations to come, making it an almost unbearable wait for every species gathered. Granted, the many mechanical species that occupied Council seats had no notion of what it was to be nervous, but to the trained eye, their lack of motion and curiosity generally assosciated with the machinistic races was truly a worrisome sign that some ominous tidings were about to to be revealed.

Jace was one of the few who'd been through a council before, his race being one of the fortunate few wealthy enough to afford time travel. And though representing the mercenary race of the Avebas from Beta 4c quadrant, reknown for their courage in battle despite the general 'traditional' behavior expected of mercenaries, he too was nervous when the sliding door opened. After a few seconds pause, the watery being named Aq stepped through and made his was way, slowly, across the spacious chamber. Warily, Jace watched the agonizingly slow progression of the watery being as it made it's way to the singular seat available at the enormous circular table. The aquatic race of Wvaben from Alpha 1a quadrant were known for their diplomatic neutrality, thus they had been entrusted with the role of gathering the galactic Council. It was their complete lack of emotions that had earned the trust of such a responsible position with the Council, though Jace now questioned that concept when he was quite sure he saw a look of worry cross the creatures aquatic complexion. Aq finally sat, regarding each member in their turn with a look that managed to turn what was a candle fo concern to a bonfire of fear. Then Aq spoke.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice-" Aq began, pausing as if unsure how to proceed since Law prohibited rehearsed speeches. Jace did his best to hide his nervousness as Aq's silence finally ended. "As many of you are aware, the galactic Council was established after the Border Wars, and since that time, we have guided the peace of this galaxy for over 3,000 Galactic Cycles without more than minor conflicts, which have been subsequently resolved." Not last Cycle's bill, Jace thought to himself in the pause before Aq continued. "further, we have established schools for the young races wishing acceptance into The Federation. As well we have a Declaration of Independence which freed our galaxy from the influence Andromeda Council had imposed, WITHOUT the need of military intervention." Jace knew all this by his Fifth Nameday, as he expected every other race in attendance had, so why the history lesson? As if to answer the unspoke question, a hologram appeared in the center of the enormous table and every single eye, whether it was 1 or 12, trained on it as if a predator was about to leap out at them. A Lauch Pad? Jace exhaled. Had he been holding his breath? There were a thousand built just like it on Jace's home planet, what was the problem? Looking around the table Jace saw a similar reaction among almost all the other races, with only a minority coming to conclusions. One way and the other. Jace had to admit that reading facial expressions of all the alien races was seemingly impossible. His life as a mercenary had taken him over all the quadrants. Even if it was only a small portion of what had been mapped and integrated into the Federation, he could still read enough to get the general mood. Confusion, but Aq continued before Jace could contemplate the ramifications of what he was seeing further. "As many of you know, the Nephilim-" a collective intake of breath from the Council mad Jace feel better about his lack of discipline, but Aq continued as if he hadn't noticed, "-Chose to flood the planet Earth in an attempt to eradicate the interbreeding that occured over the last Galactic Cycle," Every race in the galaxy heard that bedtime story. The Nephilim themselves had almost lost their seat with the Council (If the Council ever took a seat away, they would have) for that corruption. Jace noticed the Nephilim in attendance and their downturned gaze. As it should be, Jace thought to himself. Everyone student in their first year at a Federation school learned that, and Earth was problematic enough to require quarantine, which the Nephilim had disregarded. Gold. Earth was rich in it, and the Nephilim were not the first to imitate Midas. Currently Earth was under quaruntine until their contract could be renegotiated with the Council. Jace himself had a bid in place, and thousands of Marks spent in bribes to see it passed. Interesting. Jace sat a little more upright as Aq continued this time, with the dawn of understanding began to break in his mind. No wonder they called a galactic Council, even emotionless water creatures had to maintain their ships. "It appears that the individual sentenced to be purged, Anakim of the Nephilim, was able to intervene with the completion of the sentence through a human hybrid named Noah-" the many races surrounding the table each made noises that Jace could only interpret as shock, and since the Rosetta V-12 was programmed to project only those voices Aq called upon, it was a strange sound to hear, but even through the language barrier, Jace heard what sounded like shock. The humans had lived? Jace gave a mental pat on the back to Anakim for his chivalry as Aq continued. "This, Noah-" the image hovering over the table changed from the Launch Pad to a human male in his later years, beard and all. Haunting eyes, Jace thought to himself. "-was able to survive the Purge and has since repopulated another area of the planet Earth." A satellite image replaced the image of the human and it zoomed in slowly from outside the blue planet's atmosphere to what looked like a desert, slowly it zoomed into a city, and to the Launch Pad. The noise from those attending was officially competing with Aq voice being projected into his mind. "It seems that the technology for space travel was somehow handed down through the generations and now the Humans are close to completion of their first Launch Pad." as Aq finished the sentence Jace was unsurprised to hear the room explode into noise, with the Rosetta V-12 still on active duty, it was truly noise. The sound was still growing too. Everyone knew the story of the Trial of Anakim, it was a tale mothers spun to put fear and obedience into their children. Of course, Jace knew it was part horror story to protect the smorgisboard of minerals that saturated that planet, held by a race who must be beginning to realize their place in the galaxy to be building a Launch Pad. Still Humans were a worrisome lot prone to self destructive impulsiveness and simultaneously the source of many heroic tales that were whispered among the more rebellious youth. The rule of Law stated no race could be allowed access to interstellar technology until they'd overcome their reptilian nature, even the reptoid looking creatures three seats down from him had proved no exception. There were more than a few races in the galaxy that fit that desription, though not many with a home as mineral rich as Earth. None actually, now that he thought about it. Jace had never visited Earth, though he'd been to the quadrant. It had almost been a Mecca to him, without the religous zeal of course, but nonetheless he still felt a slight pull. As he listened, the overall tone of anger was more and more obvious, as it must have been to an observant creature like Aq, who simply sat there, emotionless as the water that was it's body. Finally, after a long period of noisy and confusing arguement between themselves, the noise began to lower and eyes were starting to turn back towards Aq. Jace could see why the Wvaben from Alpha 1a quadrant had earned such trust among the council, they truly were in control of their emotions, and yet radiated them at the same time. Amazing. When Aq had silence and it's audience return, it continued in the same neutral tone "This council has been convened to decide the Humans fate, as it is not within their knowledge we exist, the Humans cannot be found as Guilty Under Carnal Knowledge, so we must decide as Council how to interpret the Law." This was new. Never before had a council been formed to interpret Law, that was the Court of the Federation's duty and jurisdiction, so why the change in policy? Jace had the feeling this had something to do with the mining contracts. Interesting indeed. "So we call a vote, and we ask all participants of the Council to Judge. We Purge or we Induct, but as Law goes, we cannot give the same sentence twice to a race under quarantine." Jace could see what was happening. These Humans were proving to be a serious disturbance to the galaxy. First the Boder Wars and the eradication of the Atlanteans, which they somehow survived, then the Purge of the Nephilim corruption, now this? Jace frowned when he heard himself speaking "What if we Confuse them?" A simple process for so young a species, and much more lenient than either punishments they'd already suffered. Effective too if you asked anyone on Jace's planet (and you could actually understand them). Even in this room he thought to himself, hoping the psychic beings from Delta 2e quadrant weren't focused on him, or had a sense of humor. Did he just hear laughter?

With every being silent and focused on Aq, the watery being looked at Jace, and said quietly (if you can call the Rosetta V-12 "quiet"), "Continue". Jace swallowed as the pressure of so much attention became focused on him, and obeyed. "Well, my home planet underwent a period of transition into violent tendencies, and if my history serves me well, I remember our trial ended with a sentence to Confusion in the hope we could overcome them by re-learning to communicate." Jace held out his arms, "We learned. Maybe the Humans can too." It was a statement but his tone said he questioned the outcome too. Finally, after the noise level lowered enough, Aq called for the vote in all attempt at ceremonial tradition, even if it was a first.


For the first time in the galaxy's history, every single race agreed on one thing. "Confuse the humans, let them learn to communicate again. And let us hope this teaches the Humans to overcome their reptilian nature. It is decided." Aq had no need of the Gavel to finalize their decision, nor was Jace surprised when he was chosen as the executive facilitator of the sentence.

As Jace climbed into the cockpit of the Ambassador's craft loaned to him by the Council, he took the Rosetta V-12 chip out of his pocket and fingered it as he smiled. These Humans inspired the strangest behavior out of all of us, or was it just the minerals? Laughing, Jace left the planet on autopilot and after settling his trajectory, sat back, still holding the Rosetta V-12. Jace wondered how long it was going to take the Council to realize it was stolen, and what his sentence was going to be when they did. Oh well, he thought to himself, time to go to the land of the blind and learn how to be king.