Human culture has not disappeared. Rather, to the opposite effect, its elements have spread and intermingled far more than other civilizations.

  This phenomenon is in part due to the sheer breadth of human mythology, their stories, and the practices and iconography that have endured till this day. Species, across the Universe, could identify and find some point of integration with humanity by echoing with even the most obscure of imaginative vestiges.

  Moreover, humans were particular—a rarity not only in their origin but also in their behavior. In contrast to most advanced civilizations, human denizens retained a vast array of emotions, were highly individualistic and self-destructive. And yet, their Empire grew and developed at blistering speeds through sheer force of engineering.

  All in all, humanity became somewhat of a universal social icon…

  …where customs and images suited to a specific civilization became rapidly entrenched, accepted as ‘new’ and ‘alien’ interpretations of their own culture.

  All of this to say that humans, in many ways, were particular.

  ///

  The Gae Manzar were a marauding people composed of moving solar systems that floated through the outer edge. Their main occupation involved contracted exploration and recovery efforts in uncharted space. Manzar were—if likened to humans—socially intelligent psychopaths who maintained cohesiveness by respecting an eusocial order.

  They were bound by absolute genetic loyalty and deference to those of higher rank. And if the eyes of the Manzar, the being who stood at the peak of the hierarchy, was the progenitor of their race – the Shrouded Mother.

  Their religious beliefs sustained that ultimately, all life existed in service to seeking glory for their people. In death, they would return into the—popularly coined—Reaper’s embrace. As such, when the Manzar were first exposed to humanity’s conception of a shrouded scythe-wielding figure leading individuals to death, well…

  …they went ahead and declared that humans had received a divine revelation from the Shrouded Mother and were sent to impart said revelation to her children.

  Thereafter, the Reaper became their emblem with a few ‘minor’ modifications to better suit the Manzar’s morphology and better reflect the true visage of their goddess, which humans were incapable of perceiving. The shrouded figure was dyed a vivid neon red, grew an extra pair of arms, and cradled two twin-handled half-moon blades.

  A faceless crimson reaper adorned the hull of the ship. The inside of the bridge was quiet, save for the clattering of a few six-legged repair droids that scurried up and down performing machinery repairs and software updates. In the center lay a golden cylindrical pod – the fleet commander’s statis chamber.

  An audible ohm was left as the metallic face split in half and four scaled arms measuredly shot out, gripping the edge of the pod, dragging the body upright in tow. Kafri’s briefly expanded before letting out a hiss as her joints expelled a plume of bluish smoke that rapidly flowed backwards, condensing into a gel.

  Kafri was a designated combatant variant and, as such, possessed an extremely robust physique. She surveilled the bridge momentarily as she quickly centered herself – organizing her commanded and personal goals in terms of current importance and viability. She had been ordered by her Queen-Mother to pursue and control the source of the human artifacts that had recently appeared in this sector’s market.

  It had honestly taken far longer than expected, as the sellers had concealed themselves remarkably well. This development had severely irked Kafri as it had damaged both her ambitions and been a sore spot that her sister had exploited to gain more favor in the inheritance contest.

  Kafri – in human psychological terms – was a psychopath who, in their worldview, felt that they had been deeply wronged. ‘How dare they make me waste so much time when I would have found them eventually? How could they make me lose face in front of Mother?’ and other such thoughts dominated her mind.

  Kafri was pissed, petty, and almost pathologically vengeful and she fully intended to exact her resentment on those she deemed responsible. She immediately called up the ship’s directory, ordering the central system to awaken all the hibernating soldiers. Her lieutenants woke up first, in the circle of chambers beneath her.

  They all quickly stepped out, their bodies in neatly pressed uniforms, before saluting her. Kafri gave a quick nod of acknowledgement before directing them to begin preparations for the operation’s next steps. She studied the display in front of her – a black planet shrouded in grey clouds came into view.

  A green indicator slowly eked forward – a tracking beacon stowed on their prey.

  Kafri smiled, feeling that her anger would finally be vindicated.

  She waited for the AI to report its findings after an initial scan of the planet’s surface before ordering, “Inform central command of the reliquaries location.”

  An operator responded a few seconds later:

  “Long-distance contact deemed impossible due to level of spatial distortion”

  “Very well log the coordinates and prepare for descent.”

  Kafri’s grin grew even larger. ‘Ah yes. Today was going to be a good day.’

  ///

  Moira immediately jumped into action after confirming the presence and origin of three new vessels in orbit.

  “Call back all squadrons and prepare for defensive maneuvering.”

  “Amos go get your unit ready for deployment.”

  He simply grunted in response before rushing off, the clanking of his heavy combat suit receding into the distance. Moira, in turn, fell into deep thought, cycling through countless options before she instructed as a precaution.

  “Divert a search team to the cargo hold”.

  “Pay special attention to any recently purchased supplies.”

  “Target – a tracking beacon.”

  The system responded, “Order received.”

  Moira steeled herself for the likely brutal fight to come as she explored the avenues with the highest likelihood of survival. Confront them directly? Those are Marzan Corsair-Class cruisers; they’ll tear us apart. Try to jump away? The spatial distortions are so severe that there’s only one access point. We are already cornered.

  Suddenly, an idea hit her. ‘Amos is going to love this,” she thought to herself.

  An orderly questioned, “Your orders captain?”

  “Abandon ship – we’re going to run away.”