The Precipice

Somewhere distant, far from the prying eyes of telescopes and starships; there is a place where disaster and apocalypse reign supreme. A place where doomsday has become commonplace and where Armageddon is unremarkable. A place where death rays and planet killers are looming threats forever, never to be quelled. a place called the Hurricane Galaxy. Despite the myriad threats presented to the galaxy, there is a force which stands vigilant in the face of certain doom: the Entente. A mighty alliance of star systems, the Entente is the sole organization in the galaxy capable of preventing total destruction. Its worlds are many, its sciences are vast, its forces are mighty. Though dastardly threats environ the peaceful worlds of the hurricane galaxy, stability remains... for now. Many Star Empires and armies stand in the way of the Entente, but all are crushed before the strength of the grand alliance. For the entente for falter, is the end of the world.

Thus the cycle continues. Disaster averted one day, victory won another day, a Sisyphean struggle persists year after year after year. But still the people of this world press on, always on the verge of renaissance and collapse, salvation and corruption, survival and utter annihilation. always teetering, shifting, changing, forever... on the precipice.

The Last Ballad of Bootgrass Bill

Long ago there was a great man who freed us from the clutches of the supernet. They say he was a half-metal warrior mounted upon a great silver-wheeled steed: a powerful old motorcycle. He rode from a far off land to our city, though no one knows why; and began a meticulous search for the heart of our neon-drenched city. He searched through the millions of man-slaves, helplessly hardwired into the central computer... The supernet, a digital realm of ignorance and depravity. Each idea was the regurgitation of generations previous, each word was carelessly redefined and flanderized, and each identity was connected to the billions of others wired into the supernet. Each thing processed and recycled and distorted and misunderstood every single second... forever. He scoured the long abandoned servers, he fought the supernet's attempt to contain him, he destroyed those who would bring his crusade to an end. By the end, Bootgrass amassed a great following of freed humans, thus beginning a great assault on the supernet control center. The battle was long and many did die, but bootgrass got his audience with the computer system thanks to the brave heroes of the resistance that got him there. He spoke to the machine... "O great computer, long ago you created me to be your vessel, yet I am only half-man. Grant me a soul so that I may live as such." The supernet responded to him "Yes, my creation. I will grant you a soul. Let me live and I shall possess your mortal coil, so that we may live as one." Bootgrass considered the implications. If he accepted the deal, the supernet would continue its abuse of humanity and if he refused, all of it would be for nothing. In the end, Bootgrass declined the deal with the great system, and destroyed the central computer: forever freeing humanity from the iron grip of the system and all mankind lived happily ever after...

Except Bootgrass. The last thing Bootgrass Bill ever did was look back upon the people who had served him in the hard-fought battle against the darkness... and smile. He continued his wandering journey though the wastelands, forever searching for something that he could never truly have: That elusive little something which makes life worth living, and defines our struggle against the dark... a soul.

The end