The line between writing fantasy and writing science fiction gets even blurrier when you spend an hour trying to figure out what orbital mechanics are necessary to create a daily solar eclipse in a certain region of a planet without having to change its axial tilt and thus eliminate seasons as a whole just so the medieval-era people who live in said region can use the eclipse as a basic time measurement.
All because someone giving directions and saying “you’ll be there by firstmoon” sounded kinda nifty.
The Aurebesh, an alphabet for the Star Wars universe, created by West End Games art director Stephen Crane for his Star Wars Miniatures Battles Companion rules supplement (1994). The Aurebesh now appears in the canonical films, in phrases that can be transposed into English.
SU theory: the gems were synthetically engineered and have destroyed their makers
Since the gems are inorganic rocks becoming sentient on their own would be highly unlikely in nature (if we’re going for realism), but non-carbon based self-replicating inventions would be ideal for prospering long term in the wide universe- and taking it over
theory: the gems were engineered by a separate organic alien life to do just that
support: logic, and also the fact the newly presented homeworld is highly reminiscent of the classic sci-fi Blade Runner aesthetic
as such, Blade Runner is a dystopian film/novel where they do just that, stronger synthetic humanoids destroy their creators
Somewhere in the universe, an alien race named the planets of our solar system after the most impressive natural phenomena of their world. They have names that describe the floating jungle in their skies for our Neptune; names that tell of clouds shimmering in colours our own eyes couldn’t see for our Venus; they call the moons that orbit us with tender names of plants that aren’t quite flowers and not quite corals.
Only once have they named a planet differently. Earth had long been their favourite subject to study, to watch, and their children love the stories of its strange and far-away life. The name is impossible to translate for human ears and their limited range, but if I were to try, I would tell you that the aliens call our world Growing Home.
Well, they used to.
They won’t come.
They try to forget.
They still watch, but the children don’t ask anymore. Names have changed rapidly as did hope, and then only a single drone remained circling our orbit, sending infrequent pictures of desert where forests were, of oceans as far as its steel sensors could detect. They sent it to land a few times. The results confirmed all fears. A new drone was sent when the old one succumbed to the heat on its search for where ice used to be.
After they found skeletons where their One Day Friends - where we used to live - they didn’t sent another drone.
And one last time, the name for Earth changed, and Growing Home became Uninhabitable.