GREAT GESTALT OF GREAT THOUGHTS AND GREAT IDEAS OF THE GREAT PEOPLES OF THE GREAT HERD THE GREAT LANAKTALLANS OF GREAT GREATNESS

So did anyone fail?

Oh, come on.

The word is literally starting to lose any meaning to me.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

GREAT HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Yeah, it's staring to lose meaning.

And, yes, people have failed.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

THE GREAT AND CLEVER TREANA'AD PEOPLE OF THE GREAT HIVE WORLDS - WE'RE THE GREATEST

Yes, yes, this is the way.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LANAKTALLAN GESTALT

OK, now you're all just mocking me.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

GREAT TELKAN WORLDS OF THE GREAT FORGE

Would we do that?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LANAKTALLAN FREE THOUGHT GESTALT

Yes.

It is amusing though.

Again, though, has anyone ever failed?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Yes.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LANAKTALLAN FREE THOUGHT GESTALT

What happens to them?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

THE GREAT NETWORK OF THE GREAT SWOLE DOMMY-MOMMIES

They slowly wither away.

If they're lucky, they adopt our culture.

If not, well, they go into a weird stasis where they don't really improve and the whole society seems to run on automatic.

Sound familiar?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LANAKTALLAN FREE THOUGHT AND IDEAS GALLOPING FIELD

Sigh. I wish they'd stop messing with my header.

And, yes, it does sound very familiar now that you mention it.

I was going to ask if it is possible to break out of it, but then I look at where I am, with all of you, and how right now there are millions of memes being uploaded of all kinds. Short 15 second video clips. Six hour long-form lectures, some educational, others entertaining. Neat programs that do nothing but make a being smile.

>leans forward

>whispers: we have even discovered the amusement of drawing male genitalia on random objects. It is often done to those who pass out from intoxicant over-indulgence at parties.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Good.

Glad to hear it.

It won't be easy, but it will be worth it.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

GREAT THOUGHTS AND GREAT IDEAS ON THIS GREAT GESTALT OF THE GREAT LANAKTALLAN PEOPLE!

I believe it will be... oh come on... it will be.

My people enjoy the meme of the fierce looking LARPer saying "GLORY UNTO" and then whatever the meme maker likes.

I, personally, like where the fierce looking LARPer is dressed in a sweater and comfortable shoes saying "GLORY TO YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD!"

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

Yeah, that's a good one.

It's like nine or ten thousand years old. It actually predates Terran colonlization of their home system beyond Terra.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

RIGELLIAN SAURIAN COMPACT

It actually dates back to before they even founded a lunar base, before true AI, before even they developed the nanoforge.

Late Information Age, if I recall correctly.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LANAKTALLAN GESTALT

While that may not seem like much to my people, stuck in eternal homeostasis, knowing the dizzying and rapid changes of the Terran psyche, that meme is indeed powerful to endure so long.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

It's an older meme, but it checks out.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

CRUSADE

WHEN WILL THESE CORPORATE PRATTLING AND INDUSTRIAL HAWKING END?

I WISH TO VIEW THE TELKAN HERO UPON HIS HEROES QUEST!

SILENCE!

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LANAKTALLAN GESTALT OF GREAT THINGS

You say that some have failed.

Who?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

Here...

When she first appeared to us, we thought her an angel - a holy spirit to bring us happiness and joy in our holiday season. Her song was melodious and pure. But as time wore on and the song continued, people cried out.

"Please," they begged her. "Sing something, anything else!"

But the spirit did not listen, and continued her song.

It was then we realized who she truly was: The Christmas Banshee, She Who Brings Dread and Despair. And faced with this terror we could only weep.

That was the Gultekna. They went extinct in just under a thousand years as their culture slowly vanished and they abandoned their worlds.

You know...

Hey, Lanky, did you guys ever try to build a system like this to gentle species?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

LANKY LANKY YOUR NAME IS FRANKY

Not that we know of.

We have over a hundred million years of history after the Precursor War and records are spotty at best.

It doesn't look like something we'd make. Too much phasic systems. Too much warping of space and time.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

You know... it might have been a joint

WE NOW RETURN TO Warfather_in_a_Winter_Wonderland(REAL)[uncut][480p-upscaled-720p].avi.exe BROUGHT TO YOU BY BOBCO, CREY INDUSTRIES, AND GURDY'S DUCK OIL! ALREADY IN PROGRESS!

CRUSADE

FINALLY!

SILENCE! THE PROGRAM IS RECOMMENCING!

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

nevermind.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

The snow blew around Vuxten as he followed the trail, thinking.

When the Christmas and Holiday specials had shown up on Armed Forces Network, he had never really paid attention to them. He wasn't one of the animated show fans, he wasn't a fan of musicals, nor did he really go in for the epics.

So, when it came right down to it, he never really paid attention to the holidays stuff, which meant he had no idea what to expect.

"Hey, buddy?" Vuxten said.

There was silence.

"471?" Vuxten asked.

--sorry looking something up-- 471 said.

"What are you looking up?" Vuxten stopped and looked around. The trail kept winding around the bushes, but his proximity defense systems were all temporarily offline, the snow somehow interfering with his systems.

--twelve days christmas-- 471 said. --looked over battle roms something off--

"Hit me with the list," Vuxten said.

The list scrolled down the side of his visor, alternating colors between silver, gold, green, and red. Vuxten read it and saw that 471 had annotated it.

The last two entries were "twelve drummers drumming" and "eleven pipers piping", and while the drummers were marked, the pipers weren't. Vuxten nodded, remembering all the drummers.

"Wait, show me a 360 still of when I was fighting Kringle," Vuxten said, stopping in the middle of the trail.

It popped up and Vuxten blinked to move the image around.

He counted carefully.

Twice.

The drummers were all dressed in old style military uniforms. All with drums. All of the young Terran males were wounded, their uniforms smeared with blood. Over half had bandages on their heads, many with one eye covered.

"Thirteen," Vuxten said. "That one, right there, almost behind the bush. You can't see him every time, but he's there," Vuxten nodded. "Yeah, I remember him. I landed in front of him."

--too many-- 471 said. --can't find pipers piping--

Vuxten frowned. "Maybe we missed it in the excitement?"

Emojis signified disagreement popped up.

"All right, all right," Vuxten said. "Keep looking."

471 flashed emojis of a little mantid running back and forth waving its arms and bladearms wildly.

Vuxten chuckled and started moving again.

The path twisted around a set of trees in the middle of a large patch of briars then straightened out.

There was a fork in the road.

Vuxten looked it over.

It was stainless steel. Five tines that were stuck in the dirt. The whole thing was roughly six feet high.

"Hardy har har," Vuxten said in monotone.

The trail split in two around the fork. A post with three signs was at the open area between the Y intersection.

"EXIT" one read, with an arrow pointing to the left.

"CERTAIN DOOM" the other read, the arrow pointing to the right.

The third sign pointed back the way Vuxten had traveled and merely read "Al-Bee-Quirky" on it.

Vuxten looked back and forth at the trails of "Certain Doom" and "Exit", looking them both over.

The Exit trail only went about twenty meters before ending in front of a pair of candy-cane striped poles. In between the poles were swirling mists that sparkled and twinkled.

The other trail led deeper into the forest.

Vuxten thought a moment.

You cannot prevail with simple wrath, he heard Santa's voice in his head.

"It's a trick," Vuxten said. He turned and faced the path of certain doom. "This way."

--ride or die-- 471 answered.

Vuxten pushed his way down the path, moving along the twists and turns. His armor was warmer, even if it smelled of cinnamon and spices, and he was grateful for that little comfort. Finally there was the close together bushes that the trail ended at.

"Ready?" Vuxten asked.

--ready--

Vuxten pushed his way through.

The clearing was full of podlings and broodcarriers, male and female Telkan, all bundled up and sitting in the snow. In front of them was a curtain, bright red with gold trim.

--oh shit--

Vuxten moved forward slowly, finding his feet mired in snow and ice again.

The gathered podlings, broodcarriers, males and females all began to clap as the curtain pulled aside.

On the stage was a woman with light brown skin and long blonde hair, her body curves and lushness. She wore a red velvet suit with white trim and in her hand she held a microphone. One either side of her was her band, who all lifted their instruments together. Behind her were decorated trees.

Vuxten held out one hand as she began to sing.

The song was sweet, melodious, upbeat and fun. The podlings, broodcarriers, males, and females all began to sing along.

Vuxten found himself not moving forward even though he was trying to struggle through the knee deep snow.

The song ended and the Terran female smiled as she lifted the microphone back up to her mouth. She repeated the song.

Vuxten managed to struggle forward nearly a meter.

The podlings began crying and the broodcarriers gathered them close as the song began again, for the fifth time. Snowflakes began drifting down and the female Terran had scantily clad smaller versions of herself dancing on the stage around her. Vuxten counted eleven hairy Terran males, clad in a short skirt of red and gold and green with white fur trim, who were all squeezing a strange bag and pipe combination.

--there they are-- 471 said.

Vuxten just nodded, the song battering at his senses as it started again.

The males and females began covering their ears, wailing, as the song picked up speed.

Vuxten stopped struggling forward.

He could tell that there was no way to physically fight the creature. Yes, she looked like a shapely female Terran dancing on a stage while she was singing, but Vuxten had seen her as the center of a whirlwind driven blizzard.

Vuxten went down on one knee, still holding one hand out to deflect the sonic assault. His battlescreens shorted out in a spray of green and gold, the sonic bombardment making his armor start to vibrate.

His vision started to tunnel in as he leaned forward and put his fist into the snow. His eyes were blurring and he could see six of them on the stage.

The podlings were wailing in terror, the broodcarriers keening in fear, and the males and females were crying out in despair.

"What do we do?" Vuxten asked.

--dont know-- 471 admitted.

Vuxten opened his mouth to ask for a suggestion, any suggestion, when he had a broodcarrier come into focus.

She had scars on her back from one of the wars, but she still held tight to several podlings. One reminded Vuxten of his brother and he blinked as the memory of his broodcarriers and siblings he grew up with came back.

With it came the memory of the songs the broodcarriers would whisper to him and his siblings.

Vuxten lifted his head, activated the external speakers, and swallowed. He licked his lips, trying to wet his dry mouth, and started to sing.

It wasn't a complicated song. It wasn't complex, with counterpoint and scaling.

It was just a song that the broodcarriers sang to small podlings who were sleepy.

The song seemed to reach out. The nearer broodcarriers perked up, pulling the podlings close. Vuxten could see the broodcarriers begin to repeat the song he was singling. It spread out slowly among the broodcarriers.

The Terran female on stage began singing louder, the band picking up the volume, the pipers piping piercingly.

Vuxten struggled to his feet, moving forward, still singing the song he had barely remembered a moment ago but that now filled his mind and soul with white fire.

As he moved into the crowd, more and more broodcarriers lifted their heads and sang. Males and females began to join them. Podlings began to dance to the broodcarrier song.

The Terran female snarled, revealing sharp interlocked teeth, and sang louder.

Vuxten moved forward, ignoring the fear that he was making a fool of himself, taking step after step through the snow, still singing.

He stepped up on the stage, moving toward the Holiday Banshee, who had stopped singing and was standing perfectly still, listening to Vuxten sing. As he passed the band they switched from the Holiday Banshee's repeated song to the song Vuxten was singling.

The crowd was swaying back and forth, clapping and singing along, the podlings dancing.

Vuxten reached the end of the song.

The Holiday Banshee's eyes grew calculating and predatory.

Vuxten began singing another song. A song about love and gentleness and family bonds that he made up on the spot.

The Holiday Banshee lifted her microphone and Vuxten tensed.

She began to sing with him, her voice sweet and pure.

The dancers around her unzipped their scalps and costumes fell away to reveal podlings dressed in holiday garb that began dancing along with the new song the Holiday Banshee was singing out as she smiled.

Her eyes were soft and warm, full of love and joy, as she finished the song and started a new one without Vuxten's prompting. It was an old song, whispered by broodcarriers where the Overseers wouldn't hear.

Vuxten saw that the curtain at the back of the stage was open. He could see the unblemished snow behind the stage, the bushes that ringed the clearing, with a gap that Vuxten could see perfectly.

A tall slender androgynous Terran stood there, dressed in holiday finery, a fan covering the lower half of his face, his eyes intent and surrounded by sparkling silver eyeshadow. The figure moved the fan, showing a knowing smile and moved to the side, vanishing from view.

CRUSADE>THERE IS YOUR FOE, TELKAN!

MANTD>Shh!

Vuxten moved through the band, stepping off the stage.

"Who knows the words to Podlings Play in Fluffy Snow?" he heard the Holiday Banshee ask.

He looked back in time to see almost half the podlings raise their hands.

The Holiday Banshee laughed and lifted her microphone.

"Sing with me, littles," she said, her voice full of joy.

She then began to sing a song Vuxten could not remember but seemed familiar.

He turned his attention to the gap in the bushes and pushed through.

The path wound through the woods and Vuxten kept looking around carefully.

Now and then he'd see the strange Terran standing in the woods, staring at him.

Finally it came out in a frozen landscape.

The parking lot of the Brigade Headquarters Company.

The vehicles were frozen. Behind him, across the street, two Telkan were frozen in the protective posture. At the far side of the parking lot was the Headquarters building, covered in ice and snow.

Sitting on the steps, his long legs crossed over, his hands on his knees, his hair a bright spray of silver with blue dyed ends, was the Terran. His beauty was inhuman in its perfection.

Vuxten realized that it was an elf.

"Hello, Major Vuxten," the elf said. "You have traveled far and have begun to learn," it said. It's voice was rich and full, mirth and dark joy filling it. "But one test remains."

A dozen drummers lifted up from behind the cars. All dressed in red with white trim. They all held drums in front of them, held upright by the straps across their shoulders.

One began tapping.

Vuxten flexed a muscle and his armor opened, allowing him to step out of it. He put one hand in the bag on the equipment belt, removing two objects. He turned and faced the elf as 471 climbed out of the protective compartment.

"Are you ready, Vuxten?" the elf asked, gracefully standing up.

The Terran was taller than Vuxten thought he would be.

Vuxten held the snowglobe in one hand, the pink golfball in the other.

"Yes."