[Quikngruvn]

Wistfully he yearned
For the old days, when his tribe
Was alone in space.

He sent spaceships out
To explore, expand, exploit,
So the tribe would thrive.

His worldview was dashed
Upon seeing the strange ship--
Other tribes exist?

These people looked strange,
Breathed methane, not oxygen,
And smelled funny, too.

They spoke words of peace,
of trade and diplomacy,
cooperation.

He believed their words,
Forged an alliance with them,
Perhaps not so bad?

Till the day their fleet
Entered his homeworld's system
Hell-bent on conquest.

How could he have been
So gullible, and not have
Built up defenses?

In desperation
A fleet was built, but too green,
Too few, and too late.

Now he looks down on
The charred, smoking ruins of
His once-proud planet.

One recurring thought
Fills his mind: "Somehow, sometime,
Vengeance shall be mine!"

Quikngruvn