Light years away from the blue planet, the one some respectfully call Earth, a mighty war raged. A war so massive and all-encompassing, it was galactic in nature. A war so big that not only the survival of whole civilizations, but of whole planets, of whole solar systems and even of whole galaxies was threatened. This conflict, this battle, this war, this flaming altercation of cosmic proportions, this gigantic, galactic, universe-changing event came about because of a simple lack of communication.
Fourteen-year-old Scott Mitchell was a tall, awkward boy with blond, slightly wavy hair and golf course green eyes. Today, like every other day, Scott walked home from school with his next door neighbor and pal, ten-year-old Jimmy Floyd Morristein. (Don’t worry you won’t be tested on his name since everyone who calls him anything just calls him 002—pronounced Double-Oh-Two.)