Most of you still remember that humbling sight. Stretching from horizon to horizon amid the glaciers and snow, hard-working ground crews prepared the seven massive L-class transports for our journey to Amoluz.
Students, there was really no other option. Cold, inhospitable Glieset with its drifting axis would no longer sustain us. We had no nights and no seasons, only a dying sun whose relative motion drew a cold red ellipse in the sky. We could no longer call this planet our home.
None of us had ever heard of Amoluz. Our scientists determined it had a usable atmosphere and vegetation, but not much else was known. The People’s Council had already dispatched a scouting mission via the shuttle Gaia; they were still en route. But we had to act. Had we waited any longer, the launch window would be lost, so our departure was deemed essential. We found out the truth about Amoluz soon enough.
On standard date 16073, the ships were ready to board. Our citizens assembled dutifully at Valhalla Plain, sorrowful but prepared, and resigned to the journey. Once the disaster facing the planet was evident, the tribal leaders settled their minor grievances. We were finally one people! We sang the old folk songs together during the boarding process, our tears streaming like the rain which no longer fell on our home planet.
The lead ship, the Saga Oseberg, lifted off from Glieset on 16081 and turned toward the western sky. Our provisional government was on board, as well as the senior technical staff. The other six ships followed closely behind as the armada stayed within visual range of each other.
On standard date 16521, the crew of the Gaia reported their somber findings: Amoluz was not the utopia that we had thought. Yes, there were seasons, and there were days and nights, but the atmospheric changes were brutal and sudden. A frigid, acidic snowstorm could be followed immediately by a burning, ultraviolet sun. It became obvious that our existence there would be filled with much hardship. At the same time, it was reported that conditions back on Glieset had deteriorated and the few remaining souls left behind faced certain death. The armada was approaching the classic decision point: the Radius of Action, based on distance and fuel. After an emotional debate, the Council confirmed that we would press on ahead to Amoluz despite certain hardship.
And so students, our destiny was sealed. Glieset will forever be known as the old country and Amoluz, the New World.
As you know, disaster befell us on 16620 when our second ship, the Saga Grunland, exploded in flight. We lost some of the brightest technicians from Tribe Kamfors as well as skilled farmers and tradesmen in the accident. A growing number of our folk believe that this tragedy was the result of a curse, but of course this cannot be determined. Students, while we still grieve this loss I would caution you to base your own conclusions on facts and rational thought rather than superstition.
We are scheduled to arrive on Amoluz in just a few days, on 16802. The Gaia crew has found suitable landing places for our six remaining vessels. Our musicians have composed anthems for our new home, as well as for the Saga Grunland tragedy, and Council has announced a somber but hopeful celebration, the “Festival of the New World”. Our people were blessed with eighty-eight births during the long journey, and their symbolic christening during this festival will certainly be an emotional moment.
Despite the losses we have endured, we are a resilient people with a proud culture of technology, peace, and mutual trust. See how Amoluz comes into view now from the bridge! Our new life awaits us with its many challenges. Embrace those challenges, as they comprise your destiny.
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