In a far region of the galaxy, a long way away from the stars we know, evolved a race of humanoids.
Over millennia they advanced in technology until they obtained spaceflight. For many years there had been a growing schism between the people, with different ideologies, and the ability to travel to different stars allowed them to colonize other planets, and this allowed them to further grow apart.
Over time they split into 3 distinct groups.
The Operators. They had developed technology far in advance of what the other two had managed. They behaved like gods amongst their cousins, trying to control them, to mediate disputes, to help them.
The Warriors. Bloodthirsty and arrogant, they wanted combat above all else, they didn't care with whom. Their philosophy was Live or Die. If they couldn't find combat against others, they would fight between themselves. They would have died out quickly, except they were strong at healing and bred quickly to recover their numbers.
The Carers. Highly empathic, aloof, but weak. They were the most numerous of the three groups, but did not enjoy conflict, especially with their cousins. While not particularly technologically advanced, they appealed to the Operators for some of their technology that allowed them to shut themselves off, away from their warlike cousins.
The only times they would meet, is when their representatives would communicate via a virtual gathering known as the Conclave. But rarely were there constructive discussions. All too often the discussions would break down, with the Warriors and Carers insulting each other, and the Operators would leave in disgust until the next meeting.
Time would pass. From time to time, groups of Warriors would seek to bypass the barrier that was setup by the Carers. Each time they were repelled, but not before the Carers had taken some losses. Many solutions were tried, the Warriors tried to alternately cajole and entice the Carers out from behind their barriers, but were largely unsuccessful.
The Operators, seeking to heal the rift between the divided parts of race, tried to find solutions to this. Offering enticements and punishments of various kinds that would bring them all together. The Warriors were happy with many of these proposals, but the Carers showed little interest. They were happy where they were.
This state of affairs continued, until a particular Warrior, well known as a great orator amongst his people known as the Fox, decided enough was enough. He held his bloodlust in check, while he secluded himself away and wrote as lengthy epistle, that he believed would outline a future where, with the help of the Operators, all would live together. Not in harmony, he was wily enough to understand this was not possible, but at least together.
He made his proclamation via the Conclave! Many would be in attendance to listen. The Operators were hopeful, the Carers dismissive, and the Warriors scorned him. However, he was not deterred. He took his place at the center and started his yarn.
His speech seemed to last for an eternity and when he was finished, there was silence, as each listener digested what they had heard.
The Fox was pensive... had his message been heard, had he been understood?
Slowly, one person started to speak, and then another, and then another... and soon, everyone present was talking at another, and quickly it escalated into shouting and then once again, the insults started.
The Operators once again left the Conclave in disgust. The Warriors went back to their fighting, and the Carers went back behind their barriers.
As for the Fox, what happened to him? Nobody knows for sure. Some say he sleeps, awaiting a time when he can try again. Others say even now, he is writing his next epistle, one that for sure will be listened to and understood. Legend has it, the next one will be even longer.
The next time you are outside at night. Look up at the stars. Somewhere, out there, these people still exist, one race, yet separate, and be thankful, that for now at least, humanity remains whole.
Over millennia they advanced in technology until they obtained spaceflight. For many years there had been a growing schism between the people, with different ideologies, and the ability to travel to different stars allowed them to colonize other planets, and this allowed them to further grow apart.
Over time they split into 3 distinct groups.
The Operators. They had developed technology far in advance of what the other two had managed. They behaved like gods amongst their cousins, trying to control them, to mediate disputes, to help them.
The Warriors. Bloodthirsty and arrogant, they wanted combat above all else, they didn't care with whom. Their philosophy was Live or Die. If they couldn't find combat against others, they would fight between themselves. They would have died out quickly, except they were strong at healing and bred quickly to recover their numbers.
The Carers. Highly empathic, aloof, but weak. They were the most numerous of the three groups, but did not enjoy conflict, especially with their cousins. While not particularly technologically advanced, they appealed to the Operators for some of their technology that allowed them to shut themselves off, away from their warlike cousins.
The only times they would meet, is when their representatives would communicate via a virtual gathering known as the Conclave. But rarely were there constructive discussions. All too often the discussions would break down, with the Warriors and Carers insulting each other, and the Operators would leave in disgust until the next meeting.
Time would pass. From time to time, groups of Warriors would seek to bypass the barrier that was setup by the Carers. Each time they were repelled, but not before the Carers had taken some losses. Many solutions were tried, the Warriors tried to alternately cajole and entice the Carers out from behind their barriers, but were largely unsuccessful.
The Operators, seeking to heal the rift between the divided parts of race, tried to find solutions to this. Offering enticements and punishments of various kinds that would bring them all together. The Warriors were happy with many of these proposals, but the Carers showed little interest. They were happy where they were.
This state of affairs continued, until a particular Warrior, well known as a great orator amongst his people known as the Fox, decided enough was enough. He held his bloodlust in check, while he secluded himself away and wrote as lengthy epistle, that he believed would outline a future where, with the help of the Operators, all would live together. Not in harmony, he was wily enough to understand this was not possible, but at least together.
He made his proclamation via the Conclave! Many would be in attendance to listen. The Operators were hopeful, the Carers dismissive, and the Warriors scorned him. However, he was not deterred. He took his place at the center and started his yarn.
His speech seemed to last for an eternity and when he was finished, there was silence, as each listener digested what they had heard.
The Fox was pensive... had his message been heard, had he been understood?
Slowly, one person started to speak, and then another, and then another... and soon, everyone present was talking at another, and quickly it escalated into shouting and then once again, the insults started.
The Operators once again left the Conclave in disgust. The Warriors went back to their fighting, and the Carers went back behind their barriers.
As for the Fox, what happened to him? Nobody knows for sure. Some say he sleeps, awaiting a time when he can try again. Others say even now, he is writing his next epistle, one that for sure will be listened to and understood. Legend has it, the next one will be even longer.
The next time you are outside at night. Look up at the stars. Somewhere, out there, these people still exist, one race, yet separate, and be thankful, that for now at least, humanity remains whole.
