It was in the year 2009, following the Kansas City Massacre by the Dom-Dom, in which eight hundred Blues died under the flamethrowers of the terrorists, that the Decision was reached. It was relayed to the world by an Elder named Dasru, whose prepared statement was read to the United Nations.
"We came to your world unbidden and unwelcome," the statement said. "We came to your world asking no privilege, bearing no arms, wishing for no more than forbearance for our differences, patience for our ignorance, and sympathy for our homelessness. We offered love and received hatred. We came in peace and died in war.
"We love the sweet green fields of your planet, its clear water and skies, its generous soil. But you have never permitted Earth to become our home, and so we leave you. We leave you, people of the cruel planet. Rather than suffer your bigotry, and yes, your tolerance, we leave you. We go to seek another homeland, and in the minds of our future generations no memory of this hated visit shall remain. We shall Forget you, Earth; but may you always remember, what drove us from your world."
Then the exodus began. One by one, the small spacecraft of the Blues began to rise towards the heavens. Before the next Spring came to Earth, the Blues were gone.
Ky-Tann cleared his throat, and looked at his young wife. Devia stared at Deez.
"How long ago?" Ky-Tann asked. "When did this happen?"
"Perhaps three, four thousand years ago," Deez said. "They left the Earth to its fate, and eventually that fate was extinction. Some defect in its sun caused an outburst of nuclear fire, and shriveled the planet to what it has become. But still she stands, their goddess of welcome, lifting her torch to the empty skies.
"When we dug up that statue, do you know what we found? There was an inscription on the base. When we learned the story of that planet's past, the irony of those words was poignant."
"Do you remember them?"
"I could never forget them," Deez said, and his eyes were dark. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore; send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me; I lift my lamp beside the golden door."