Themistocles
New Member
The brief was to write a short story with limited scope-perhaps just a conversation or an utterly unimportant scene in someone's life. So, naturally, I write a piece that spans the entirety of human history and then some, and isn't even really a story, but more a collection of images. Anyway, any comments and/or critiques welcome!
Atop the pinnacle of the great mountain, the chieftain stood alone, gazing magisterially down upon the lands below. His lands. At his father’s death, the tribe had been but small, content to hunt the meagre domains providence and the predations of rival clans had left them, to eke out a subsistence on the paltry crops available. He had changed all of that, claiming the grounds of his neighbours, slowly at first, but soon gathering impetus. Now, as the wind flowed through his hair, pulling gently at the axe in his grasp, everything he could see was under his control, up to the great ocean, the edge of the world itself. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
The conquistador stood at the cliff’s summit, glancing down to the dense jungle canopy stretching out underneath him. He pulled off his helmet, glad for the release, and tossed it roughly to the ground where it lay beside his bloodied blade. The expeditionary force had been here but weeks, and already the native pagans had been crushed. They had treated the invaders as gods, welcoming the travellers from the ships reverently, worshipfully bowing down before them. But the conquistador, instead of assuming his awaited role as holy messenger, had proved to be an avenging angel, come not to spread peace and prosperity but fire and destruction. Finally, after all the bloodshed, the conquering warrior realised that the New World was his. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
Leaning on his rifle, the soldier, proudly arrayed in his resplendent red battledress, surveyed the harsh African environment laid out for miles in front of him. As he turned his gaze skywards, he noticed the Union Flag flying high above, and felt a surge of patriotic love and commitment. The heathen tribesmen were dedicated, he would give them that, but what good were spears and shields against the might of Her Majesty’s Royal Army? The opposing factions had been subjugated or neutralised, and as a reward for the dedication, discipline and strength of the redcoat and his military companions yet another backward nation had become a part of the glorious British Empire. The vast expanse of the scene in view was his. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
The general was utterly focussed on the vast satellite map that occupied the most part of his desk. Zooming right out, the entire world’s surface came into view, and as he watched another small block, this time in the west-Eurasian area, turned from its reddish hue to a bold blue. This same azure shade dominated almost the entirety of the projection, broken only by a handful of minute, isolated pockets of crimson. The grandiose armies of the Union had consumed the entire globe, their unparalleled strength in arms removing any resistance smoothly and efficiently. As he watched, the last remaining patches of red converted to the uniform blue. With a wry smile, he realised that the planet was his. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
The astronaut, suited in his all-purpose space equipment, looked out of the viewing port, his eyes fixed intently on the surface of the planet below. Once it had been known as the Red Planet. Now it was a terraformed paradise, ideally suited to supporting human life. There had been some indigenous life present, but he and his fellow expedition members had removed any such threat to the conversion process in case the imported ecosystem could not handle the natives. As the ship made a slight alteration to her course, Earth itself came into view, the blue-green surface barely visible through the layers of dense smog, in stark contrast to the verdant Martian paradise also to be seen through the tinted porthole. The old world and the new, unified under human rule. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
His Revered Imperial Majesty turned his haughty glare away from the door guards in their forbidding suits of black shield armour and onto the holographic projection emerging from the floor of his main office. The display showed him the entire galaxy in all its splendour, the thousands of solar systems, the hundreds of thousands of planets. Not one remained that was not under His control, and that was as it should be. The Galactic Empire had grown immeasurably in the many years of its existence, ever striving, ever expanding, ever conquering. He pondered the humble beginnings of his race, and afforded himself a brief self-satisfied chuckle as he thought of how superior he was to those that came before him, such creatures that barely deserved the honour of being called his ancestors. With their petty fiefdoms they had thought in their arrogance to call empires, they were feeble beyond measure, especially when compared to him, he who held the entire galaxy within his gloved palm. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
It would never be enough.
Atop the pinnacle of the great mountain, the chieftain stood alone, gazing magisterially down upon the lands below. His lands. At his father’s death, the tribe had been but small, content to hunt the meagre domains providence and the predations of rival clans had left them, to eke out a subsistence on the paltry crops available. He had changed all of that, claiming the grounds of his neighbours, slowly at first, but soon gathering impetus. Now, as the wind flowed through his hair, pulling gently at the axe in his grasp, everything he could see was under his control, up to the great ocean, the edge of the world itself. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
The conquistador stood at the cliff’s summit, glancing down to the dense jungle canopy stretching out underneath him. He pulled off his helmet, glad for the release, and tossed it roughly to the ground where it lay beside his bloodied blade. The expeditionary force had been here but weeks, and already the native pagans had been crushed. They had treated the invaders as gods, welcoming the travellers from the ships reverently, worshipfully bowing down before them. But the conquistador, instead of assuming his awaited role as holy messenger, had proved to be an avenging angel, come not to spread peace and prosperity but fire and destruction. Finally, after all the bloodshed, the conquering warrior realised that the New World was his. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
Leaning on his rifle, the soldier, proudly arrayed in his resplendent red battledress, surveyed the harsh African environment laid out for miles in front of him. As he turned his gaze skywards, he noticed the Union Flag flying high above, and felt a surge of patriotic love and commitment. The heathen tribesmen were dedicated, he would give them that, but what good were spears and shields against the might of Her Majesty’s Royal Army? The opposing factions had been subjugated or neutralised, and as a reward for the dedication, discipline and strength of the redcoat and his military companions yet another backward nation had become a part of the glorious British Empire. The vast expanse of the scene in view was his. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
The general was utterly focussed on the vast satellite map that occupied the most part of his desk. Zooming right out, the entire world’s surface came into view, and as he watched another small block, this time in the west-Eurasian area, turned from its reddish hue to a bold blue. This same azure shade dominated almost the entirety of the projection, broken only by a handful of minute, isolated pockets of crimson. The grandiose armies of the Union had consumed the entire globe, their unparalleled strength in arms removing any resistance smoothly and efficiently. As he watched, the last remaining patches of red converted to the uniform blue. With a wry smile, he realised that the planet was his. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
The astronaut, suited in his all-purpose space equipment, looked out of the viewing port, his eyes fixed intently on the surface of the planet below. Once it had been known as the Red Planet. Now it was a terraformed paradise, ideally suited to supporting human life. There had been some indigenous life present, but he and his fellow expedition members had removed any such threat to the conversion process in case the imported ecosystem could not handle the natives. As the ship made a slight alteration to her course, Earth itself came into view, the blue-green surface barely visible through the layers of dense smog, in stark contrast to the verdant Martian paradise also to be seen through the tinted porthole. The old world and the new, unified under human rule. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
His Revered Imperial Majesty turned his haughty glare away from the door guards in their forbidding suits of black shield armour and onto the holographic projection emerging from the floor of his main office. The display showed him the entire galaxy in all its splendour, the thousands of solar systems, the hundreds of thousands of planets. Not one remained that was not under His control, and that was as it should be. The Galactic Empire had grown immeasurably in the many years of its existence, ever striving, ever expanding, ever conquering. He pondered the humble beginnings of his race, and afforded himself a brief self-satisfied chuckle as he thought of how superior he was to those that came before him, such creatures that barely deserved the honour of being called his ancestors. With their petty fiefdoms they had thought in their arrogance to call empires, they were feeble beyond measure, especially when compared to him, he who held the entire galaxy within his gloved palm. But it was not enough.
* * * * *
It would never be enough.
