Just a short story, I'm planning on adding a bit more to it, so this is only the beginning of it. It's a work in progress and nothing like some of the other bigger stories on here.
I came up with the concept on a whim, and I typed through quite a bit of it worrying I might be taking a concept already being used by somebody somewhere...If so, I had no idea.
Constructive criticism is encouraged.
[b]EDIT: Is posting something not related to Bungie not allowed on here?[/b]
Lonely in the black abyss that was space, flew a station. No ordinary one, of course, for it stood as the shining pinnacle of the galaxy's races. It length was immeasurable, and not even the greatest or maddest of visionaries could conceive such a structure made by sentient hands. Light from a nearby sun glinted off its chrome exterior in such a brilliant manner. Heard throughout the station was the hum of its gigantic engines, which created enough pure energy in such a foreign manner to all but the most promising of the races' engineers, and used it to propel the station through space.
The creation of this mobile work of art took the lives of trillions. Took the time better spent living freely for generations. Took the ceaseless efforts of several hundred races. On its completion the tall and intelligent Coradeesh rose from their council chairs, the always energetic Sirals sighed and looked upon it with wonder and the few but powerful Mongerans let out a cheer that could be heard for miles in all directions. Other races held their own particular celebrations; all before grabbing hands with one another and entering the Silver Spire together.
The brutish calls for war were behind them, along with greed and lust for power. Finally, they were united. They could live their lives without the fear of impending doom, or political frustration. Their boundaries melded together, forming a state that was light years across.
Years passed. The races did not begin to segregate, but fully merged into a society that honored difference, and held on dearly to the thought of brotherhood and togetherness. The Silver Spire began growing. More citizens flocked to the pinnacle of unity, and so to hold them, the Silver Spire needed to expand.
Another great triumph for the races. Additions began slowly at first, and then faster and faster still. Workers were enthused to once again begin working on something as great as the Spire. It grew even further; resources were no longer a problem, as the combined effort of all people brought together a seemingly endless pool.
And so it grew.
Deep into the center of this Spire was a council of 800. They led the citizens of the state, forging a brighter future. They decided that their knowledge was wasted, even though they already occupied an incredible amount of space; they decided to reach out to territories more unexplored to all of them. They began passing into the no man's land, where isolated and unexplored planets sat, completely alone and without aid.
Their goal was of course not to conquer but to uplift. They chose planets which were certain to hold life, and searched it for any signs of an uprising civilization. Should they find one, they would let the people of that civilization choose ambassadors, who, with the promise no harm would befall them, be brought to the Spire for a proposition that could only benefit them as a whole.
They would be observed by the United's leaders for an unspecific amount of time. Should they pass the leader's judgment, they would be given the opportunity to join the United's company as an equal and cherished member of their society. Most agreed, few decided differently, but they were all returned safely to their home.
Time passed. Farther developed races began to show potential, and because of that, they were welcomed into the Utopia with open arms, as promised. The change from independent to united nation was effortless and no doubt beneficial. They're culture was absorbed into the United's, their history added to the great libraries of the Spire, and for them, all was well.
The United watched as more primitive races interacted with each other. Steady alliances formed, only to be cut apart by war, creating a fatal set back. Some races, determined that they were the greater, fought blindly until extinction. The United saw this and shook their head in a sorrowful gesture. They had promised not to interfere, every race made their choices independently, but that didn't make their destruction any less painful to those who would've looked forward to calling them friends. They saw these races crawl out of the cities now turned to ash, and realize their mistakes all too late.
The United looked down upon them and didn't reach out for their mangled extended hand. They knew these independent races prayed for some kind of rescue, but they offered none. It was done out of love. Like how a parent punishes a disobedient child who doesn't understand what they've done wrong. They needed to learn for themselves, or else they wouldn't be trusted in the Unity.
One day, as the United tended to their daily activities something happened. The alarmed citizens rushed to viewports to look upon a large hole in space. The fabric of space had been torn, but by what?
A shining vessel shot through the gaping dark, bearing the insignia of humanity.
[Edited on 08.08.2012 10:58 AM PDT]