the collective

planet, moon, space-5966336.jpg

Chapter 39

They each sat quietly consumed in thought not sure what to make of the Captain’s findings. They each had their own notions on how to go about seizing the planet earth from humanity.  The Collective sat in their assigned seats of conference room in the Barbarous. All patiently awaiting for the Crowned prince to join them. As he had instructed no one said a word and would not share their thoughts until his arrival. 

The Lieutenant sat quietly thinking it’s my belief that we should just annihilate them all. Start a new, maybe retain three thousand or so of earth females for breeding purposes only.  Once enough halflings are born we can move on with our mission of gaining additional strength and power. Besides, unless we intervene their planet would be unlivable shortly anyway. They’ve been killing the earth since the dawn of their industrial age. Why should we save them when they never cared to save themselves.  They seem to be a planet of dreamers that only acknowledge reality when it becomes a nightmare. Without our intervention they would be doomed. He slowly looked over to the Blonde who rested her chin under her left hand. 

She looked at him and thought if I know our Lieutenant he will side with the Warrior Prince and the General in the extermination of humanity. I’m sure our scientist will go along with them, it’s the easiest route. But I’m not convinced their death is warranted. There is an awkward beauty about them. I’m sure the Crowned Prince noticed it, the problem with them is most don’t relish the family structure. 

A structure that has propelled our kind to the top of the Algeverse’s food chain. They make war on each other for next to nothing. That infighting has done nothing but destroy them. Only recently since their 21st century have they tried to rectify this but have gone about it all wrong. Going from one extreme to another and now weakness and victim hood are celebrated against strength, especially in the so called western countries. 

They’re so focused on what makes them different when they are more similar than anything else. Earth’s societies are little more than an odd variety of contradictions germinating with hypocrisy. Maybe they don’t deserve a savior. I could care less one way or the other.  To the victor go the spoils and this will be the easiest victory ever recorded. She tightened the aqua blue glove on her right hand, stood and walked away to get a beverage.