In ancient times, we worshiped them as gods, building monuments to honor them, even beseeching them to return. Perhaps the Anunnaki knew we wouldn’t view them as gods upon their return — knew that we had advanced too far and could never see them the same way again. Maybe that’s why they came instead as conquerors. The Reptilians paved the way for them, ensuring that there would be only minimal resistance.
And here we are. Utterly subservient to the Anunnaki, serving their every whim. Enslaved. They live as kings. No, they live as gods, no matter what we think. We have to treat them like gods — we have no choice.
—"The Brotherhood Of Babylon - Post-Apocalypse," The End of the World: Alien Invasion
Alternate!Jack: You remember what we were like centuries before the Scarrans conquered us. Weak genes, disease, death... I think our health and longevity outweigh some personal freedoms, don't you, son?
John Crichton: No.
Alternate!Jack: You never change. But you're young. I never told you this, but when I was young, I wanted to fly, too. Space - a dream. But it wasn't to be. And it won't be for you either.
—Farscape, "Unrealized Reality"
I make instant oatmeal and we turn on the TV. All the channels show the same images: tickheads at the new White House, at the U.N., everywhere. All the messages are the same: the war is over, and they’re sorry for the damage we did to ourselves. The tickheads—they call themselves something full of clicking noises—are sorry for the violence with which humanity responded to their visit, and sorry that they failed to anticipate the reaction. They promise to work with the Galactic Whole to repair the damage, and they’re sorry for the delays.
“I’m sorry too,” I say, trying to make a joke, but Trey doesn’t laugh.
— Disarm, by Vylar Kaftan
