Log: USS Nirvana: Received last transmission from Mission Control at 7:23 GMT this morning. Informed Maj. Trakker that Mission Control was going offline with no estimated time, if any, for them to return online. Maj. Trakker believes we may be only human being left alive.
Maj. Kaylee Koster, Communications Officer
Jul 5, 2067
Welcome, Warrior, to Desert Rats, the Clan of Mastery and Elan, unlike those SCUMBAGS across the way, the AMOKs. To truly understand our Noble Cause, standing as Terra's Defense of Last Resort against those cheating, FARP-sitting, Hippo-Supping AMOKs, sworn to defeat them again and again and again, you must learn the truth about their malevolent and twisted Chieftain, NoOne.
NoOne and I never really got along. He was clearly Mother's favorite, and she let him get away with murder - on at least one occasion, literally. The only time we seemed to get along was when we'd sneak into a meeting of the Terran Youth Group and lob a few "rat bombs" into the crowd. Watching the fur fly and panic take hold was a real 'sharing' moment for us both, and, after the sissies fled screaming, we'd butt heads in happy solidarity until our ears bled.
The day of The Impact, we were on one of our usual excursions into the mines, preparing to raid a Youth Group meeting. Tired of NoOne's constant whining (he always was the weak one), I cleverly switched one of the tunnel signs to teach him a lesson. The idiot went right for it, and I waited at the intersection, laughing. Suddenly I heard him calling me in what sounded like real distress. Being the responsible one (and NOT because I was afraid of what Mother might do, as HE claims). I rushed down the tunnel to his aid, but he was nowhere to be found! With growing concern, I raced through the dark tunnels, only to find him hiding behind a rock, laughing his head off at tricking me. Of course by this time, we were deep down the wrong tunnel, hopelessly lost.
Just as I was about to give him a gentle but firm lesson in the virtues of responsibility, when he flew at me tooth and nail. I tried to warn him, but in vain - totally blinded by jealousy and rage, he was oblivious to everything until the roof caved in. We were buried under many kilos of soot and debris.
My brother just sat there in seeming shock, his open mouth drooling. It was obviously up to me to get us out of this mess. Making a virtue out of circumstance, I proceeded to dig us both out of the rubble, using his stiff body and open mouth as a crude excavation tool. It took days, and when I finally broke through, we found ourselves in another cavern, its walls lined with a motley crew of terrified survivors. Rather than thank me for saving us both, no-one immediately began screaming that I had tried to kill him, and that if they didn't seize me immediately, I would try to kill them all! I patiently attempted to explain my brother's condition, but only about half listened - the other half tried to string me up!
The rest is Terran history. It took years to work our way up to the surface, as we survived on the meager Youth Group stores (of which my brother's gang ate far more than their fair share). Once above ground, NoOne stole the first Rhino we came upon, and immediately turned on my unarmed comrades and began shooting them down like rats. We had no choice but to arm ourselves in self-defense, and have ever since been fighting to free Terra from the Menace of AMOK.
- NoBody, Chieftain of Desert Rats