It was dawn.
The first rays of the sun pierced the thick layer of dust left in the atmosphere by the countless fires raging in the great brother-war, bathing the Petersplace in in an orange golden light.
Not much was left of Rome.
Like most metropoles it had not survived unscathed, even as the seat of the holy see.
This place, contrary to many other cities that had been abondend completely in favour for artificially planed habitats, had been rebuild, the traces of nuclear and chemical deterrent removed at great cost.
It was a matter of principle.
Even if the Marianites had little to nothing to do with the papacy that died in those fateful years, it should be known that religion was something no one should trifle with.
It was a symptom of that hard-headedness that had so often proved typical for the believers.
The crowd gathered remained silent, clad in black robes wearing a twenty sided die over their heart, signifying their placement in the upper echelon of Terran society.
Priests and military, often both.
They were waiting.
Earl Neumeier was going to hold one of his monthly speeches, in light of the recent attack moved forward by a few days.
When he finally appeared, it was clear that he could barely contain his rage.
“The difference between animals and men”, he started his eyes fixed at the horison “is choice”.
“One may hate the wolf for killing ones cattle, the moskito for stealing ones blood or the locust for ruining the harvest.”
“But one” he continued “can not blame them. T'his the way they have been made, their choice in the matter is as big as the waves to break or the winds to blow.”
“And as the animal, so is the Xeno. Our hate rings true, but we can, and do not, blame them.”
“Our animosity is as natural and pure as the rise and setting of the sun.”
“The commonwealth however stands for all of mankinds vices, their choice being their own”
“Betrayal, treachery, blasphemy, hedonism, cowardice”
“The list is to long to mention all of it. They dared to attack us, to stab us in the back minutes after we saved their sorry skin!”
“Like Kain they try to murder their bother, but WE are not as Abel. Our offering was one of STEEL! Our trade WARRIOR, not farmer!”
“Our patience has lasted long enough, IT IS TIME TO SKIN THE SNAKE!”
And with that he started an hour long tirade, containing elements not only from different religious scriptures, but also from Dantes and Gordon Ramseys works.
Oh, it was brotherwar alright.
Once again.
For choice
B.
Laclongquan sums up my fears pretty much.
Those ships are going to be lost, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amcyqMpOq4g
Next up on the agenda: Stasi style Secret Service.