Disclaimer: I own nothing of this wonderful franchise but Amaya, OC aliens and governments of my creation, and OC's that live on Earth.
Inspired By: Hans Zimmer- "Oogway Ascends" (A beautiful piece that just tied into this prologue so YouTube it to accompany the little fella)
Prologue: A New Tomorrow
It was all so long ago but he remembered it distinctly as if it were yesterday, each memory adding a strand to the long tapestry that was his life. The old generations remembered the day when hope ascended into the heavens to return to the stars, rejoicing when their prayers were answered with salvation years later as their imprisoning shackles were unbound. Younger generations would learn the toils and sacrifices of those who came before, those who paved the way with blood and tears to achieve freedom for their people. Their names would forever be remembered on the beautiful sapphire monument erected in the revered capital of Thalis, the site where the rescue ships had landed to welcome its lost people back home where they belonged. It was somehow fitting that he lived in the flourishing metropolis of his world where species of all kinds visited for diplomatic, residential, business, or scholarly reasons- the ruling government was also housed there.
He had lived the preserved history firsthand from the first moment he drew breath and carried all of his ancestors' teachings to pass them onto future generations, reminding them to never forget. The sacrifices of their people were to be honored and the unlimited freedom with its potential that had been claimed would not go to the waste. It had taken time but his people had regained their former glory as master engineers for the Alliance, harnessing all branches of the field as they spread throughout the galaxy to take their place beside the other species. Liberty had granted life to the oppressed and a voice to those too weak to speak; he wielded his voice to fight for any injustice among his people or any race that existed in the endless dark veil of their galaxy. Sight allowed him to gaze upon alien worlds that many of the older generations would never have the chance to and always grasped a small clump of dirt in gratuity to the freedom fighters that gave him this chance. His hearing that was no longer forced under the penalty of death to hear one dialect alone had tuned into more than a hundred dialects since his induction as the GA ambassador to his people decades prior. In his mind, century-long memories of history that his mother and father recited would not be forgotten through the passage of time as he carried the best intentions for his people to continue the work the previous generation began.
His story was not yet finished as he walked his own path of life, barely one-hundred and seven years, being the beacon of hope of his species and a green finger tapped the transparent datapad with blue glowing letters. Records of historical accounts of his family, friends, and other survivors flashed across the screen to hurl his mind back to those turbulent times as he'd been tasked with writing his first memoir. Nonetheless, he was never one to procrastinate work and always wanted to get a head start to outline his thoughts and spoke softly with a smooth voice that conveyed confidence, "I am Oliver Johnson, I am Yunthorii of the Zalar clan, the oldest son of the Hero of Thalis, Ambassador to the Akhali System, and other titles that could fill pages but this is my story. . .my tale. . .my beginning. . .my, uh. . .," pausing, his calm expression faltered and he murmured thoughtfully, "This is harder than I anticipated."
Azure eyes flecked with gold gazed through the clear window of his large empty office, staring into the horizon of a lilac-gray sunset where pristine white buildings glowed against the pastel hue of the sky. The earthy chocolate hue of his knee-length coat billowed with his graceful steps as the tall poleepkwa approached the cathedral-shaped window, the silver gauntlets over his forearms chiming gently against the metal windowsill as he leaned against the large window that offered a scenic overview of his beloved city. It was one he never tired of seeing. One slender hand lifted to touch the clan emblem his father had given him many decades ago when he'd left home, their insignia chiseled elegantly onto it, and the bronze metal glinted against the sunlight as it rested in the center of his chest where it was pinned to delicate sky blue clothes that he'd never have imagined wearing in his youth. No, during those days, he'd been lucky to keep his small shorts stitched together to last another month while hoping winter wouldn't freeze him during sleep.
His long antennae flattened briefly against his head, the old action never leaving him despite his age as he'd been deemed to be one of the most compassionate members of his kind since he never denied aid to those in need. He was never very good at writing about himself, akin to hearing tales and writing them down for himself for storage in his library and his antennae flicked with hints of uncertainty. His father held a tone that garnered his undivided attention during storytelling, a voice compelling enough that it warranted the aid of a galaxy while his mother's humble tales held their own grace to draw emotion from all hearts (regardless of species); what would his tone be? Out of the dozens of inspiring speeches he'd prepared for audiences throughout the years, both on Thalis and before the Galactic Alliance, he found himself tongue-tied about his own tale. Sometimes he wondered why he agreed to write autobiographies due to the hassle but what his parents and their allies achieved, they deserved to have their story preserved throughout the ages. If he allowed someone else to gather facts and make their own assumptions, they could get something wrong- he never allowed mistakes.
He tapped his finger over the datapad to find a specific folder that he connected to his entire private network, manuscripts that had been written down by hand by his parents for safekeeping in his and his siblings' home. They weren't eternal but their memories would live on and if it was his turn to shed light on those dark days when many cried for salvation from oppression, he would do so. . .because he had been one of them. Oliver smiled the trademark poleepkwa smile that held the power to captivate an audience when a familiar feminine voice that had soothed his fears for years spoke aloud in the empty office, "I've never felt as free as I did when I awoke within the mothership, gazing at you while you slept away all of the stress you endured during the escape. That day, I was the proudest mother in the universe. . ."
A/N: Welcome to the new story of Christopher's journey! I couldn't decide who to use for the prologue since Amaya started it off in the first tale and decided, why not the adorable face that's fighting for freedom? As we can see, Oliver was given the future his parents dreamed of since his birth but we'll be onboard to see that journey. The first chapter will be posted soon as I've finished writing the outlines for the sequel as I tweaked a few points to save time so we'll be meeting up with Christopher in space and Wikus on Earth.