EPTIt is a sublime feeling when an epiphany elicits the inevitable; one would figure then that it is no longer the inevitable but rather a situation that could be dealt with. But it must be the inevitable for that is what we call it. Should it be assumed that this enlightened person is too apathetic or rather unwilling to become involved with this situation to change it? Or is it possible that it is not the apathetic nature of the person but rather his incomprehension of time that forces him to perceive the present as a moment passed thus allowing the inevitable to be the inevitable? But let us not be pessimists here and continue more optimistically with a thought of salvation - the kindling of man with success. The converse of the inevitable - that is to say the birth of the unprecedented, to know yields knowledge far greater than the capacity of which one can truly appreciate and those fortunate souls who do are rewarded immeasurably.
END
Three weeks ago I was informed of my Uncle Richard's vacation to the planet Tarsonis in the Koprulu Sector. Being the capital of the once great Terran Confederacy, over the years since its abandonment it had become a sort of Mecca for all humans and aliens alike. Each year millions upon millions of beings spend the usual two weeks to visit this vast array of beautiful museums, picturesque historical sites and superfluous souvenir shops in order to fulfill their self-imposed moral obligation to the confederacy or quench that prodigious curiosity of theirs. Consider it the quintessential tourist attraction - it contains all the excess one would expect from a year long annual holiday but the fulfillment of believing it is a positive necessity to one's culture - a pay-to-evolve express if you will. Four days ago my family was informed of the disappearance of my uncle upon receiving a rather inane message from him. As my goal here isn't to inform you of the ritual in which my family laments, let us progress to said message:
November 18, 2007
I have arrived. Upon descending from my ship I was overwhelmed with an eerie feeling one would acquire when being the only living life form within a radius of millions of miles. I can only hope this feeling is something in which I may progress with confidently. I landed slightly north of what looked to be structures from the Neolithic era: two erect stones adjacent to an emblem embedded into stone bricks; the stone bricks are organized to resemble an equilateral cross with its arms bent at right angles. One could say it resembled that of a swastika - a sign of wellbeing. I have decided to progress north due to the direction of footprints which resemble that of a Terran spacesuit. I can view a secondary Terran outpost from a cliff. I see the dilapidated remnants of my brethren's buildings. As I progress onward the poignant smell of rotted corpses, whose blood have moistened the otherwise dry ground - the quench of this land undoubtedly satiated, have forced me to my knees. The death of mercenaries can go unashamed, but I must be merciful to those in the T-280 Space Construction Vehicle. Slaves from birth, that is there only affiliation with life - otherwise one could justifiably express the SCV's exemption from the living. They are machines with breathing anatomies. While one may think, the SCV simply does. There is no reasoning behind its motives, nor is there instinct to its actions. The SCV is a celestial sculpture that God's hands had not touched... What's that? I hope it is a critter. Upon leaving my state of reverie, which I apologize for - I continue onward cautiously. The smell has become too overbearing. It is not just the smell of corpses that irritates my mind and body, but rather that of something else. As I look around I see the meat of some sort of creature. It must be that of the Zerg race, although this is only an assumption. Something big happened here and I feel an advent of danger. I begin heading south back to my ship. I decided to no longer travel by foot due to the possibility of danger. I feel death's presence. My ship has been taken down by Zerg forces. I've hidden myself in the crater of what looks to be where a Terran edifice once stood... I... to esca...
The message ended abruptly as you can see. I'm not exactly positive as to what's going on but clearly everything isn't as it seems. I've been told of a renegade group of reporters by the name of Team Liquid who films and documents battles in an effort to reveal the true horrifying nature of war, but I have no access to their resources, or replays as they call them. If one could find me the "replay" of the battle in which my Uncle was trying to find something, it may help our family locate his whereabouts. I think it's safe to assume uncle isn't just a gynecologist.
