The History of Humanity! (ii) or The Great Charleton or Naive Kids

Planet: Tarsonis

Year:2527

Place: Confederate ??? Academy

0815 -History Class-

Mr.Quackenbush walked into his class beaming from ear to ear, as his smile landed on Popovich's latest batch of 9-year-old kids they smiled before greeting him with warmth and adoration.

"Hello, my lovelies. Are you ready for the continuation of our story?" Asked Mr.Quackenbush. The kids cheered upon hearing these words, for them. He was their only hope in this overly cruel, and heartless place.

"I love your passion kids but remember to save your question tell the end. We don't want the lesson ruined for the others," said Mr.Quackenbush; he smiled seeing this batch hung on his every word and jester.

Their eyes followed, their excitement built while he made his way toward the front of the class. Quackenbush paused to take this beautiful sight in once more, 'I love my job!' He thought. Now ready to begin his lesson, the kids leaned in, their psionic energy oozed love, joy, happiness, and warmth.

"When we last left our story the confederacy crashed on what would later be called Tarsonis! While the evil Umojans crashed on Umoja! A beautifully green planet. That's teeming with food, water, and the most exotic animals known to man.

We struggled to tame a planet that threatened the very animals, and rivers it should support. They lavished in luxury wasting everything they used, threatening to repeat the same mistakes our dear old UEG once made! But eventually, we'd find the things that made our humanity THRIVE!" Yelled Mr.Quackenbush.

His eccentric demeanor drew the kids in further, yet they held their curiosity out of respect for their venerable teacher.

"IN THE FORM OF MINERALS! During the founding years, we struggled to refine even the most basic ores. Couldn't sustain our growing population and were forced to process oil! Yeah, kids oil. But eventually, we found mineral crystals.

Alone, they're useless. When matured, they're nearly unbreakable. But like all minerals, they can be regrown! Yet unlike all minerals, these minerals can be broken down than processed! Making them a renewable resource.

Now, you wonderfully smart kids must think. "What makes them superior to the ores of old?" And to that, your answer is simple.

3d printers.

For years humanity used ink, lasers, and an assortment of goods to create letters or design items. But now! That ancient yet still revolutionary tech enabled us to fabricate a whole assortment of metal goods. Pig iron, iron, steel, titanium.

So long as we knew the bond we could make it, and make it we did.

Thanks to this process, cIties rose one by one. Our population exploded as our glorious 11 did everything to encourage and support it. New industries arose as our nation's technology rapidly returned with renewed vigor and spirit. Yet sadly, it was all for not the Umojan's had Isoroku Yamamoto!

While we just clawed our way back to space, they already dominated space. While we built a nation around the ideals of love, support, and sacrifice. They built a nation around cruelty, power, and control. Remade devices like the ones recorded on old earth *sniff, sniff* our old, tragic yet beautiful lost homeworld.

At first, they sought peace, and we were happy to forgive them. But eventually, they realized how valuable those crystals were. And their planet was teeming with clusters of them...this space sector is teeming with them.

And so, the Umojans in their power-hungry ways sought to control everything in sight...they still do. But that's why! THAT'S WHY!

That's why..." cried Quackenbush, his voice trailed off. Their eyes watered seeing his hurt-filled expression. "That's why we're so hard on you kids! Your preceptors don't want to be meanies. They don't want to harm you or make you fight.

But they have to! We all have to.

Sacrifice. Each and every one of us must sacrifice so that the innocent men and women, who support our nation do not lose the families they sacrifice for every day," said Quackenbush. His words caused this naive group of kids to look upon their jailors with renewed and refocused lens.

They stood up, saluting him with the utmost respect and dignity. Quackenbush smiled but said nothing. 'Tools don't need to be smart, only useful.' Thought Quackenbush. A part of him questioned why the facility would even bother furthering their education.

'Why are we teaching calculus or mathematical induction to 9 and 10-year-olds. When all these monsters need to know is how to shoot? I mean seriously! These dangerous little shits are given a better education than most kids. Like seriously, my grandkids don't even have access to the accelerated learning program...'Quackenbush paused. His thoughts trailed off as his attention returned to the still saluting kids.

"It fills me with joy, seeing you kids serve the confederacy the way you do," said Quackenbush. A tear trailed down his old withered face. The kids returned their seats, eager for his sermon to continue.

Quackenbush paused once more, his eyes fell upon the room's clock. The kids wanted to cry, their next teacher was Kalen. Yet his words rang, empowering them to move forward and soon embrace his tough brand of love.

As they left, Quackenbush last words echoed within their minds.

"I know this is selfish. But I have grandkids no older than you lot, and seeing sacrifice for their freedom brings me love, joy, and happiness knowing they'll one day do it for others. "

# An: A small chapter. However, I couldn't afford to write about some things without spoiling the story. I hope it was to your liking. And remember.

QUACKENBUSH isn't a reliable source of information! #