The Voice of a People

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I was unfortunate enough to witness the truth of that statement when I was seven.

My homeworld of Antora had been enslaved for centuries. Our subjugators, the Eskarr ruled over us with an iron fist; the galactic community labeled us as independent and forced the Eskarr to allow other races to have embassies on our world. Obviously, since the galactic community had to force the permission for Antora to be allowed embassies they were fully aware of our situation.

When I was six the Eskarr finally delivered on their decades long promise to correct our race. I’m sure you see where this is going. It took a year to gather my people in camps to be transported off world. I was lucky enough to be born to a pair of ambassadors. They were able to convince their colleagues that represented another race to smuggle me off world. I have trouble remembering their faces. I get glimpses of my mother’s long white hair or my father’s bright sapphire eyes in my dreams but never their full profile. I remember more of my mother’s sobs as I was taken from her than anything else about her. However, what I do remember is when I was being smuggled off world; looking out and seeing massive ships floating above my home. I remember seeing the hangars of those ships deactivate the shields that kept the innocents inside. I watched as my people were ejected into the vacuum of space, faces contorting in frozen horror. I will never forget their faces. I will never forget watching my entire race snuffed out like a candle’s flame.

There is an old Antoran proverb, “Carrying the past, drags down the future.” It is meant to explain why holding grudges can affect your future. This is only the first part of the proverb. The second part is often forgotten, it states, “But the present eases the burden.” The entire proverb means, “Forgive but don’t forget.” Sometimes phrases are best left forgotten. No one can forgive the genocide of an entire race and the insult to not even give them the dignity to die on their homeworld. I never got to run on the mountain trails of my home. I never got to see the brilliant capital that sat atop the largest mountain on the planet. I was even robbed of most of the memories of Antora. The only memories I have are of the lavender sky as we escaped the planet and the cries of my mother as I was led away from her. My father had already been taken, I was never even given the chance to say goodbye. My family, planet, and society were all taken from me in the blink of an eye. I will correct the mistake that allowed my home to sit empty with a ring of billions of corpses orbiting right above its once tranquil skies.

I am Teris Selane. The son of Alana and Tanis Selane. I am the last of my people. I was hidden away and protected for fifteen years. My benefactors made sure I was educated on the history of my people and galactic politics, by the best minds on their planet. I am the echo of the billions of screams that faded into the void of space above our home. My white hair, my blue eyes, and my intelligence are the gifts my people gave me. I won’t squander these treasures and I will remind the galaxy of what they lost. My life was never going to be an easy one and I intend to make that everyone else’s problem.