Originator by Joel Shepherd Page B

Understand that the catastrophe is the overarching mythology, the legend around which all Talee thought and culture is founded. To challenge the basic presumptions of that myth can be very hard, for even the most advanced mind.
    â€œBut finally the patterns of discovery became too compelling, andresearchers from various fields found too many commonalities in their own discoveries for those patterns to be ignored. They began to get together and compare notes, secretly at first, but then with greater and greater confidence. Finally they presented their findings, only when they were certain that the truth could not be refuted.
    â€œWhat they found was an earlier, previous civilisation, hidden beneath the ruins of the primary, more recent ruins. A Talee civilisation, much like the one they were supposed to be studying, but different in many ways. A lower threshold of technology, belonging to an earlier era. And evidence of sudden, violent, simultaneous, thermonuclear destruction. Perhaps three thousand years before the previous near-extinction event.”
    This time no one at the table even breathed. It was too awful to contemplate. And far too frightening.
    â€œThis previous Talee civilisation must have been aware of their catastrophe, just as this present Talee civilisation is aware of their own,” Cai continued in quiet, sombre tones. “But somehow, in the second catastrophe, with the complete elimination of life on the homeworld, all memory of the first event was lost. Talee returned to their homeworld more than a thousand years later, thinking that this was a once-and-once-only event and never again could anything like it occur. But painstaking investigation finally revealed to us the truth.
    â€œTalee destroyed themselves twice . The second time, in full knowledge of what had happened the first time, and all in the psychological and cultural aftermath of that first event, and all the ‘never agains’ that accompanied it. Now you know why the Talee will not talk to you, nor meet with you, nor trade with you. Talee live in constant fear of disturbance, of disequilibrium, of politics, of even emotion itself. They fear themselves, they fear others, and they fear greatly the consequences of every single action they take. They deliberate endlessly, and for the most part, do nothing. They are a people without faith in themselves, and they cannot believe that any contribution they could make to your current circumstances could possibly be an improvement. Humanity, in this current matter, is on its own.”
    â€œWe think it’s here,” said Fleet Captain Reichardt, pointing to a spot on the holographic star chart above the table. “The Talee homeworld, C-492 on our charts. No doubt the Talee call it something more interesting.”
    The chart showed League space, a faint shade of red, and Federation space in blue. And here, several hundred light-years beyond the League’s farthest reach, a collection of stars that might stretch, if these hypothetical models were real, as far as Federation and League combined.
    â€œThis is as far as you think Talee outposts reached in the second age?” Ari asked, pointing to the farthest expanse of that colourless territory, hovering between the projection paddles.
    â€œIt’s all guesswork,” said Reichardt. “But given what we’re pretty sure the Talee ships can do, which is in turn based on some pretty nifty physics equations that remain purely theoretical for us but appears to be completely practical with them . . . yes. This is as far as we think they got. And now, thanks to our friend Cai, we have a timeline, and the timeline appears to match.”
    Now they were in Operations, the other most secure room in FSA HQ. About them was a semicircle of seats for interactive presentations, big screens on the wall behind, and a projection table here, in the middle. All the semicircle chairs were empty, but the seats around the