Name: Dudley Cadogan

The Cadogan dynasty had an iron grasp on power in Ebragantu. Dudley's grandfather was the fifth Cadogan king, one of his dull uncles would be the sixth, and one of his insufferable cousins's the seventh. It was not uncommon for Cadogan heirs to die mysteriously, though the number who'd have to die for him to even be in the running caused him to never consider the crown. When the previous Ebragantu representative to the collective, Dudley's uncle, who happened to be fourth in line to the throne, died in the usual Cadogan heir mysterious way, he jumped at the opening. His uncle's and cousin's cautious refusal of the post deterred him little, and he was soon on his way to Laruta.

He took his time stopping at all the wondrous worlds he knew from his tutors' lessons and the many delegations to the home palace that mostly ignored him. On each planet, he went through the same loop. A lavish welcome from the aristocracy, who always made sure he dined on the finest food, toured the most advanced industries, and left in awe at the greatness of their kind. His awe was always tinged with dissolution when he'd look through his luxury ride from someplace to another and read between the lines of the stories he was being fed. He saw a darker side to wealth.

After visiting an impressive factory automated fully with robots, he realized the drab urban sprawl was pickpocketed with small tent villages. On a different, less automated planet, the robot-free factory complex he visited was surrounded by large walls and guard towers. His proud host explained to him that nearly all their industry was powered by convict laborers. This genius system, explained his host with glee, allowed them to compete with more advanced planets while also giving their vast prison populations a chance to contribute to society, creating value for everyone.

Dudley came to realize that while the galaxy had advanced to the point of great wealth and prosperity, it was only available to a select few, which he guiltily admitted he was one of. The consequences of this imbalance were suggested to him when one visit was cut short when a host had to handle the organization of a military response to a riot nearby. His host assured him not to worry as it was a regular event and essential in maintaining a healthy control over the population.

On arrival to Laruta and his post in the collective, he went to work immediately. He organized an action committee to brainstorm wealth distribution and presented motions to the collective based on his findings. All of this fell on deaf ears. It seemed he was the only one who saw the writing on the wall, or at least the only one who cared.

His determination never lessened, though his hope certainly did, until he first heard the rumors. A tiny meerkat who went by the moniker of The Prophet was preaching the destruction of the galaxy while also claiming to have the solution. Dudley instantly became his biggest supporter. With his previous suggestions, all ignored, he focused on trying to get the collective to work with this unknown meerkat. His new direction was not met with much more success until one day, the speaker of the collective agreed to send for this prophet if Dudley would stop badgering them all. Three months a year of sessions were tiring enough for the collective without having to listen to Dudley's ravings.

The day finally came, and Dudley was beyond excited. The prophet would be arriving, and he would have a chance to join him in this mission, to be a part of something truly meaningful. He stopped by the collective to organize a welcoming committee. There were no volunteers. On his way down the great steps, he ran into another representative and tried once more. He pleaded, shouted, and even cried the reasons why the prophet was the solution. His rejector quickly hurried up the steps away from the bundle of nervous energy Dudley had become.

Dudley turned to go alone, down but not defeated, when he saw a group with an unusual mix of species running towards him. The one who seemed to be leading the group, a creature that looked more like a machine than what he guessed was a duck, reached him first.

"Were you talking about the prophet?" She said to him excitedly.

"You know the prophet?" Dudley responded, his cheer instantly restored, thinking that he may have found someone who shared his mission for the first time.

"Yes, certainly. We have been looking for the prophet everywhere, but we can't find him. It is extremely important that we find him because we need to k/"

Dudley cut her off, now vibrating with excitement. "Of course, finding the prophet is important. That's what I've been saying all along. I know exactly where he is. Follow me!"

Dudley happily hurried away towards the spaceport where the prophet would be landing soon, with his strange new companions in tow. Finally, he was no longer an outside observer, yelling from the sidelines. He had joined the saga.