Ginger Diaspora
Upon the the cutting of the light, the treacherous ginger infestation was offered a simple choice: leave, or die.
We picked up our people, those of the red, and those of us who had chosen someone red, our families, our dependants, our pets, and left. We ventured out from the galactic core, settling our own tip of the nearby Sagittar arm, now named the red claw of the Sagittar in honor of our diaspora. The loss of life was deplorable, despite our betrayers not lifting a finger to harm the hair on any one of us.
Just by not lifting a finger to help, they'd condemned quite a few of us to starvation, radiation exposure, asphyxiation and the threats of the unknown, who soon became the known terrors of our new home. We didn't have enough supplies, and even with rationing, we didn't have enough supplies, medical or otherwise, for everyone.
But the greatest killer of gingers that day was a set of ginger themselves. My predecessors in the High Gene-Wardens council of the red culled ruthlessly those who were to help the red come into the new century.
Naming Traditions
Other names
Culture
Shared customary codes and values
"For the red!"
"May your back be unbladed."
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