It was three millennia ago when The Ravaging occurred. The peoples of the Democratic Union were forced to leave Gaia; and so The Pilgrimage began. Together, the combined peoples of the USSR II, the Chinese Federation, the People's Democratic Republic of India, the Asian Coalition, the Canadian Union and La Nouveau Canada left Gaia aboard three Ragnarök-class ships: the Shiva, the Proletariat's Hope and the Terra Nova.
It would be another eight centuries before the slow-moving cruisers found a suitable cluster of planets and stars to permanently inhabit. The ships that led us to safety all lie on their respective planets, dormant, no longer able to function. As with so many things, the ships have found a new purpose.
They are the sole remaining keepers of knowledge (other than the Oral History, which I suspect is less than reliable) that link us to our past.
Excerpt from A Complete History of the Democratic Union, from the chapter “A General Summary of Our History”
-Written by Mazurov V Haimrich( Written 3290 AU. Fully passed censorship 3294 AU. Minimal corrections made.)
“Welcome to Parliament, Commissar.”
Count Morrison flung upon the ornate doors and walked into the gargantuan halls of Parliament, Commissar Vsevolod following closely behind. As they walked slowly through the grand halls, heads turned to look at the unlikely pair. All conversations stopped, and only the sounds of the Count's soft shoes and Commissar's steel boots striking the floor could be heard.
Vsevolod stopped and stared back at the politicians.
“Don't worry, Commissar. I expect they are merely surprised to see one of your rank. I'm sure its not very often a Commissar comes to Parliament, let alone in full gear,” explained Morrison.
Vsevolod looked upon the throngs of politicians once more, his left eye's iris shifting from green to red. He let out a muffled grunt.
“Very well, Commissar. Who do you wish to speak with, Commissar?”
“War Councilor Yin,” grunted Vsevolod.
Not one for words. Just like the rest of those bloody commissars, I guess. Mindless drones, the whole lot of them, mused Morrison, thoughtfully adjusting his robes. Consulting the small data pad attached to his wrist, he sighed. “Very well, Commissar, follow me.”
The two advanced further into the dark halls and entered a grav-lift. A tinny, monotone voice emanated from the speaker embedded in the grav-lift's wall.
“Welcome to Parliament. Please state your intended destination, followed by your name, clearance, title, and if prompted, neural uplink.”
Count Morrison cleared his throat. “Nine hundred-fifth underground, John Morrison, clearance up to first thousand levels, Count of Ka'seh.”
“Neural uplink required.”
Count Morrison raised an eyebrow. “Um- I don't have-”
“Access denied. Repeated failure to produce sufficient clearance will result in preventative actions being taken. You have two requests remaining. Further requests may-”
Commissar Vsevolod interrupted the machine. “Nine hundred-fifth underground, Vsevolod Sokoll, Commissar's clearance, Commissar of Ka'seh Thirteenth Company.” He proffered a glove towards the wall, from which a fluorescent blue cable snapped into a port on his glove, while a scanner began to examine Vsevolod's eyes.
“Granted. Please keep the neural and optical scanner connected to you at all times. Repeated failure to do so will result in the stopping of the lift, a further security check, and a suspension of clearance for one day. Good day.”
As the lift descended into the depths of Parliament, Morrison turned to Vsevolod.
“Commissar, since when did I lose my clearance? I was assured that I had access to-”
Vsevolod turned to stare at the lift's wall. “Revoked the moment you became my guide. Don't ask; no one is going to explain.”
Morrison sighed. Wonderful. Just bloody wonderful. What a great person to spend the whole day with.