Itirilmis

by addtheletters

Many years ago, a species was saved. But their homeworld was forgotten. A story of the galaxy, retold by a dying man on a dying world. This is the beginning. This is the end. This is Itirilmis. *Fits with canon, mostly. Companion to my other work, SLRL.

1. Transitive

Itirilmis

-a Mass Effect story

*Mass Effect universe and all related non-original characters owned by Bioware

~Chapter 1~

#Council Secure Archives

#Section 6, Subsection 8, Node 1624

#Timestamp: 2211-10-17T07:38Z

#The following text was discovered several weeks ago by a reconnaissance vessel in the Shadow Sea. It was found contained within a metallic capsule, drifting in space, between systems. It's velocity at the time was left unrecorded, and thus, it is impossible to extrapolate its origin. Further analysis is warranted at a later date.

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No one really remembers how it happened.

But everyone remembers quite plainly why it happened.

The scientists: botanists, agronomists, meteorologists, sociologists, economists… they'd all seen it coming. They'd made their predictions, wrote their fancy technical papers, gotten them published and mailed worldwide and made a fortune.

Everyone listened. Everyone knew. Some told their friends. Some wrote letters. Some organized 'special interest' groups. Some stood on the streets and shouted for awhile.

No one truly cared.

We kept going. There was only progress. Science was heralded as the savior of us all. Chemicals safeguarded our crops. Our factories pumped out a never-ending stream of goods. We bought, we sold, we mined, we cut, and we burned.

We destroyed.

We reproduced, we ate. Quickly, the earth of the heartland was exhausted, drained of nutrients. The few jungles were claimed for agricultural development, their canopies cleaved. Ecologists protested, but they were ignored just like the rest.

We still don't know how many species once lived in those forests. How many died.

Now, it is not the lives of the animals we fear for. It is our own.

Itirilmis. Some saw it as a new beginning. More saw it as the end. The end of us.

There were rumors of aliens, coming to take the worthy away. Among the survivors, these rumors were scoffed at, delusions stemming from monotheistic religions long ago dead. Until a month ago, I too refused to believe.

Now I know of the truth.

Rakhana is dying. We, the drell, are dying. I am dying. But the truth must live on.

I'm not sure what exactly this is yet, but this is a story, told through the story of another, told through the story of another. This is my story, yet it is not. This is beyond just me.

This is how it goes…