Die Wacht Im Raum - A Kaiserreich Stellaris AAR

[Side]

Prologue: Legacy of the Second Weltkrieg
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December 1945 - Killarney Airfield - Canada

German Messerschmitts prepare to take off from bases in Canada. Fresh from their victory in the air campaign against the Union of Britain, the German veterans proved a welcome respite for the battered Canadian forces.
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Simon Oakly stamped his feet trying to keep warm. It was no longer a futile effort; the new German boots actually kept the snow out. How long had he used his old, leaky boots? It had become a problem during the fall offensive, but that was when he’d been at risk of getting trench foot. Maybe sometime during the spring?

He took a deep breath and resumed scanning for American planes. That seemed to be the only thing that worried the Germans, and Simon could relate. The bastards were deadly, and the Syndies seemed to have an infinite supply of them.

He heard German shouting over by the hangars. He wasn’t allowed near them, no Canadian was. The Germans had something top secret over there, and they were only letting their own people close. He wasn’t sure why they bothered. Everyone had heard about the German super bomb destroying London, even with the censors filtering what little news they received.

“Cigarette?”

Simon spun around in a panic, scrambling to point his rifle at the voice. But what he found wasn’t some Yankee Syndie, but a sheepish looking man in a German uniform, holding out a pack of smokes.

“Sorry,” the man said, a clear southern American twang to his accent. “I keep forgetting to sound more German.”

Simon’s heart was still pounding, but the immediate panic had passed. It made sense that there shouldn’t be any Americans walking around on the base, even if they were close to the front lines. And they most certainly wouldn’t be offering cigarettes to Canadian soldiers.

The man still held out the cigarette pack, so Simon accepted. It did wonders for his nerves. They’d run out of tobacco a long time ago. Before they ran out of boots.

“Thanks. And sorry about that,” Simon said.

“No worries. You’re not the first, and you didn’t hold a knife to my throat, so we’re good.”

Simon felt even more sheepish than before. “What’s an American doing in a German uniform?”

“I’m not sure if I can say I’m an American anymore. At least not that kind.” He nodded southwards. “It’s not much to say really. Used to live in Mobile, but we were forced to flee to New Orleans when the Syndies had their march to the sea. My father managed to get me, my mother and my two sisters a place on one of the last boats out before the city was surrounded. Last thing I heard my father say was him telling me to keep them safe.”

Simon took a deep breath. He hadn’t heard from his parents since the Americans took Toronto. His mother was smart, she could keep her head down. But his father… He was far too enthusiastic about the King to keep quiet about it, and the Syndies didn’t like royalists much.

“Anyway, ended up in Cuba for a few weeks before I could contact some relatives in the old country who could help. So I ended up in Germany. Just in time for the Commune to come knocking.”

They stood in silence, both smoking, both looking south. Simon didn’t know what to say. He suspected he didn’t have to say anything.

The cigarette burned down and he stamped it into the dirty snow. The German soldier from Mobile was also finished and was about to go to the next perimeter guard to share another cigarette. He had just taken a step when Simon spoke.

“This bomb, will it end the war?”

He turned to look at Simon, then shrugged. “No idea. Mosley didn’t want to surrender after London. Not even when held at gunpoint by his own countrymen. But I can tell you this, if everything works out, Chicago will be a smouldering ruin this time tomorrow.”

He walked away, leaving Simon with his thoughts.

* * *​

On December 7th 1945, a German nuclear device detonated 530 metres above the city of Chicago. In an instant, much of the city was levelled, and the ensuing firestorm destroyed most of what survived the blast. Among the dead was the leader of the Union of Socialist American States, Earl Browder.

Chicago a few days after the nuclear blast that destroyed it. In total 85% of the city’s structures were reduced to rubble.
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It was the second time such a weapon was used in anger, the first bomb having been dropped on London to force the surrender of the Union of Britain. It would remain the last time such a weapon was used in anger for more than a hundred years.

The date is commonly used to mark the effective end of the Second Weltkrieg. While sporadic guerrilla fighting would continue well into the 1960s, the death of Browder marked the end of any cohesive, organised resistance. Due to his extensive purges, the USAS found itself without any unifying leader following his death. As the remaining leadership squabbled among themselves, numerous resistance groups sprang up, many of them loyal to the various defeated factions of the Second American Civil War.

When the German army, fresh from victory in Europe against the Commune of France, the Union of Britain and the Socialist Republic of Italy, landed in the American South the following spring, they found a nation in anarchy. Banditry was widespread and much of the population malnourished. What had been intended as a military operation soon turned into a humanitarian one. By the end of 1946, the country was divided into several occupation/relief zones, with the two largest being the German in the south, and the Canadians in the northeast.

A refugee camp in the German Occupation Zone. Countless like them were found all over the former United States of America. While conditions were often appalling, violence was infrequent. The population had been subjected to syndicalist reprisals following the end of the civil war, and the German troops were often seen as impartial mediators, if not outright liberators. This was in stark contrast to the Canadian Occupation Zone.
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The fall of the Union of Socialist American States marked the end of what historians have dubbed the “troubled decades”, a period of global instability that followed the end of the First Weltkrieg. The years had profound impact on the political landscape of the world. Britain, France, Italy and the United States of America would all go through revolution, followed by crushing defeats.

France’s decades long military buildup and mass conscription would prove unable to penetrate deep enough into the Rhineland to adversely affect German industry. Thousands of soldiers were thrown into well prepared German positions, only to suffer the same fate as their comrades during the previous war. Most expected a repeat of the last war, but when the German counterattack began, it came in the form of an armoured spear that was thrust right at Paris. With most of the revolutionary zeal already spent, the Commune’s military started a disorganised retreat. German tanks rolled down the Champs-Élysées not long after. In the post-war settlement, France would suffer the indignity of having a German monarch installed, whose legitimacy was constantly challenged by a hated Bonapartist pretender across the Mediterranean.

Mosley’s “Fortress Britannia” would never “fight them on the beaches”, but would instead fall to Niclas y Glais coup d’état following the destruction of London. The ensuing unconditional surrender would grant the nation some degree of leniency. Instead of a military government controlling the occupation, the nation was divided into its constituent countries, with parliaments established and local nobility elevated to royalty. Canadian Exiles were also allowed to return, and to some limited degree reclaim property confiscated by the syndicalists. This invitation, however, did not extend to any member of the House of Windsor.

By comparison, the Italian Socialist Republic came to a gentler end. While the fighting during the Unification War had been as fierce as in the rest of Europe, the fall of Paris and the Austrian entry into the war changed things. The government in Torino, already much more moderate compared to the other syndicalist states, saw that the end was near. Instead of romantically fighting to the bitter end, they called for a ceasefire and a negotiated surrender. The ensuing Treaty of Livorno would dissolve the SRI, but would guarantee labour and democratic rights in a new constitution for a “united” Italian Kingdom. The new nation would even receive financial support from the United States of Greater Austria[1] in return for renouncing various territorial claims.

The signing of the Treaty of Livorno. While in leftist circles the treaty would be denounced as treason towards the proletariat, it can’t be denied that it spared much of northern Italy from destruction.
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The war and its end was a major blow to the legitimacy of King Edward VIII. Pre-war rhetoric had stated that only a strong leader could stand against syndicalism and reclaim the birthright. Between the USAS overrunning major population centres in weeks, and the German conquest (and subsequent partition) of the British Isles, it was clear that if Canada needed a strong leader, then Edward wasn’t him.

Desperate to stave off popular uprising (syndicalist or otherwise) he and his cabinet became increasingly willing to use force and terror to keep the population in line, where previously a gentle, subtle touch had been the preferred tool. The systematic exploitation and looting of the Canadian Occupation Zone was used to keep the government afloat. Even as the Russians, Austrians and the Germans allowed limited forms of self-government (largely due to the massive amount of territory that had to be patrolled), the Canadians maintained their occupation. It was not until after the 1972 July coup and the declaration of the Canadian Republic that the Canadians would allow any significant degree of self-rule.

Six years later the former United States of America was reunified, now known as the United American Republic. Even then the country would never be fully restored. Alaska would remain a part of Canada, even after the coup. Hawaii’s restored monarchy had secured its continued independence through a military alliance with the Germans. And the New England Republic, created as a Canadian puppet state, refused any overtures from the UAR to reunite. Having been spared the worst of both the civil war and the post-war Canadian exploitation, the New England Republic had little in common with the rest of the former United States. Thus, they saw little reason to join a nation that they felt they no longer had any connection with.

In South America, the conflict between Argentina and Brazil would continue inconclusively for another four years until an armistice could be agreed on. With neither side willing to negotiate, the war would technically last until 1996, with minor border incidents plaguing both nations. In the intervening years, both nations would amass significant stockpiles of weapons, including short and intermediate ballistic missiles, some of which were equipped with nuclear weapons. While the conflict was eventually resolved peacefully, this significant arsenal would later lead to tragedy.

But it was not just in the West that history was being written. In the East, Russia’s chronically unstable government would weather the storm following President Kerensky’s assassination. In the ensuing years, labour agitation and far-right terrorism lead the republic to the edge of another civil war. It was in this environment that a border conflict with Mongolia and Tibet would escalate into full-blown war. Russia appeared to be standing on the edge.

It was in this situation that the Empire of Japan made a grave miscalculation. Thinking the Russian government was close to collapse, they chose to invade eastern Siberia. However, in an ironic reversal from the first Russo-Japanese War, the Japanese invasion would instead shore up the popularity of the Russian government. As Russian troops diverted from dealing with the Mongolian conflict, Japan’s situation was further worsened when the Qing, attempting to reunify China, attacked the Japanese backed Fengtian Government. This lead to an unexpected (and informal) alliance between the Russians and the Qing and together they would push Japan off the mainland. Fearing that the Russians and the Qing would starve out the Home Islands with submarines and airpower, Japan negotiated a peace treaty where they renounced all territorial claims on the mainland. The Japanese dream of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere was shattered, and the nation would turn isolationist as it was wracked by instability and internal power struggles.

Japanese citizens crossing the Tsushima Strait in an attempt to flee from the Russian and Qing forces marching down the Korean peninsula. Many were detained by the Japanese government, who feared that spies and saboteurs were hiding among the refugees.
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In Africa, two massive colonial states continued to dominate the continent: German Mittleafrica, and the exiled French Empire. The downward spiral of Mittleafrica had slowed with the removal of Göring as Statthalter, but actual improvement would not happen until after the war. This gave the colony time, but not much, especially as the situation to the north deteriorated.

In French North Africa, Napoléon VI had many of the same problems as Edward VIII. He had attained his position by proclaiming that France needed a strong ruler to guide them home. When the Côte d'Azur landings ended in disaster, it cost him both his legitimacy as well as most of the Empire’s navy. And unlike Edward, he did not have an occupation zone to exploit and loot. With the nation suffering from increasing rebellions and terrorism from the native population and the French metropole open to all but a select few Frenchmen, many French citizens decided a German king was better than an incompetent emperor. The ensuring brain drain further crippled the Empire, leading to its final collapse in 1963.

While the collapse of the French Empire was generally seen as a positive in Germany (Napoleon had been a thorn in the side of German foreign politics since his ascent), colonial administrators in Mittleafrica were less pleased. Already dealing with several groups pushing for independence (both peacefully and not), the collapse of the French Empire lead to a significant influx of “professional agitators”. The already declining situation was thus significantly worsened. Even in Berlin it was clear that controlling the colony directly would not be an option without significant military expenditure. The ruling SDP, already ideologically opposed to Germany’s colonial possessions, was not willing to commit troops. And so the ‘independent’ Mittelafrikanische Republik was born, much to the horror of the German right.

However, the MAR struggled from the start. The new government had been established with little concern for the diverse ethnic groups of the new nation. Ethnic conflicts and separatism were the immediate results. Many in Germany were willing to wash their hands of the matter until the violence turned towards European settlers, at which point there were demands for action. The SDP, having hoped to avoid using the military, were forced to deploy troops in what would be known as the African War. The last German soldiers would leave in 1982, making it one of the longest wars in the Reich’s history. While declared a success, the campaign would be a major black mark on Germany’s position as ‘Weltpolizei’. It would not be the last.

Luststreitkrafte aircraft strike suspected separatist positions. The use of incendiaries during the African War was extensive.
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The fall of syndicalism entrenched Germany’s position as the preeminent power on the planet. While the fighting in the Ruhr area had been fierce, the steady push against the Commune had given the nation the breathing room it required. By the time of the American Campaign, the only nation that could threaten the homeland was Russia, and they were still occupied in the far east. As the only nation with the atom bomb, Germany settled into the position as the preeminent power on the planet.

However, it did not take long before that position was challenged. The Canadians were quick to position themselves in opposition, mostly to distract from domestic issues. A more substantial challenge would come when China and Russia declared the St. Petersburg - Beijing pact, with the Nordic Federation joining a few years later.

Students in Berlin protesting. Thirty minutes after the photo was taken, it was announced that the Kaiser had agreed to constitutional reform.
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But the biggest challenger to the established order would not come from other nations. As the African Crisis dragged on and Germany sent more and more young German men to fight in a war that felt increasingly far away, those that returned were often resentful of the government. This, along with an increasingly politicised student body, would boil over 1968. Protest swept the country, often with highly decorated veterans at the forefront, demanding increased participation in government, a reduction in noble privileges and an end to the Kaiser’s right to appoint the chancellor. When the army informed the Chancellor that they could not guarantee loyalty from the enlisted men, everyone knew it would end one of two ways. A few weeks later, Kaiser Whilhelm IV would sign the new constitution, divesting his political privileges to the Reichstag. A new dawn was beginning for the German Reich.


[1] Colloquially referred to as “The Danubian Federation”.

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That's it for part one of the prologue. I'll see about posting the second part detailing the space race tomorrow. Then we can get to some actual gameplay.

 

[Side]

Prologue: The Space Race
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The mushroom cloud over Chicago had barely dissipated before the old (and some new) rivalries of Europe boiled to the surface. The Canadian government, unpopular at home and denied a return to Britain, were quick to position themselves in opposition to Germany. Russia soon followed, though in a much less obviously belligerent manner.

However, unlike previous conflicts, direct military conflict was not an option. Germany had the nuclear bomb, and in the ensuing decades the Russians, Canadians, Chinese, Nordics, Brazilians and the Argentinians would all develop nuclear stockpiles of their own. This new conflict would instead be fought with proxy wars and espionage.

A Canadian Excalibur II missile sits in its silo. A single missile could carry a dozen independent warheads.
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One of these new fronts was space. Aside from being an ideal subject for propaganda and national prestige, the military applications of space were obvious to all parties. During the Syndicalist War, Germany had used the Raketenwaffe-2, commonly known as the R-2, to strike at industrial centres in London and Paris. While the strategic effect was questionable (many rockets failed to hit within city limits, and those that did usually didn’t hit anything of military value), it had a profound effect on morale, both within Syndicalist nations as well as Germany itself. While the nuclear strikes against London and Chicago were carried out using heavy bombers, the German General Staff were nonetheless entranced by the potential for both nuclear and conventional missiles.

Much of the German rocket program was led by Dr. Wernher von Braun, who was also an impassioned proponent of space exploration. Von Braun, who was something of a media darling, leveraged his position to get the ear of the Kaiser. Following numerous debates, the Kaiserliche Weltraumorganisation (KWO) was established in 1951 with von Braun as its director. The organisation’s mission was “to further peaceful exploration of outer space.” That this ‘peaceful’ organisation was headed by a person central to German weapon development did not go unremarked.

Wernher von Braun at his desk. While a media darling in his homeland, he was controversial abroad. Canadian comedian Mort Sahl remarked that he was “A man that aims for the stars, but sometimes he hits London.”
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The KWO immediately went to work, launching several new rockets based on the R-2. One of these launches brought back the first pictures of Earth taken from space. Wernher von Braun was an international celebrity, frequently appearing on the fledgling television broadcasts and giving regular speaking tours at universities.

It was in this environment that the Russian Republic shocked the world with its launch of Kosmicheskiy Sputnik-1 in July of 1956. The satellite was of a basic design, carrying a simple radio transmitter that emitted a repeated radio pulse. But that signal was heard around the world.

Reporting on the Sputnik-1 launch was often breathless, if somewhat inaccurate.
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This, combined with the Russians testing their first nuclear bomb in ‘53, was a cold shower to the Mitteleuropean establishment. Russia was still considered a backwards state that had “only” managed to defeat the Japanese.

In fact, it was the war with Japan that had given Russia a leg up. During the war, it had been clear to the Russian Government that actually invading Japan was off the table. Most of the Russian fleet was old and, more importantly, based in Europe. With the fate of the Second Pacific Squadron present in everyone’s minds, alternatives had to be found. The first solution provided was strategic bombing, and the Russian Republic poured significant resources into research and development. It was in this environment that aeronautical engineer Sergei Korolev caught the attention of his superiors.

Russian pilots downed over Japanese lines faced almost certain death, as captured pilots were routinely executed, and said executions were widely publicised. It was feared that any bombing campaign over Japan would be disastrous for morale, both among the pilots and on the home front. Korolev, who had been working on rocket-assisted take-off, proposed using ballistic missiles to strike the Japanese home islands without fear. The idea proved popular, and Korolev and several other engineers were assigned to a design team. While Japan would seek terms long before any missiles were ready, the work done led to the creation of the Rossiyskoye Kosmicheskoye Byuro.

The launch of Sputnik significantly energised the German government and the KWO. Von Braun, who had suffered significant loss of face, was put under immense pressure to avoid further humiliation. The KWO worked around the clock and managed to retrofit one of their existing rockets to carry a live payload, a cat named Elsa. The mission, launched less than six months after Sputnik-1, was a resounding success, with Elsa becoming an international celebrity and the fixture of several children's books.

Elsa the cat. Selected for her calm disposition, she became the first living thing to enter orbit. Scientists at the KWO wanted to euthanize Elsa so they could dissect and study the effects of zero gravity on her, but were refused by the PR savvy von Braun. Instead, she would live the rest of her life at the KWO headquarters, serving as a mascot and “tour guide” to groups of visiting schoolchildren.
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From this point on the space race slowed slightly, as both Russia and Germany worked on putting more satellites in orbit and perfecting their rocket technology, with the ultimate hope of putting a man in space. However, there was one other party in the space race.

For Canada, space was not a matter of scientific curiosity (as it was for the RKB), or avoiding national embarrassment (seemingly the main motivation of the KWO), but a matter of state survival. Edward VIII and his cabinet were desperate to prove their political legitimacy, and participating in the space race was one such method. Significant resources were diverted to the Royal Space and Aeronautical Society’s efforts of putting a man in orbit. This resulted in the Kingsman I mission in 1959. King Edward had invited the worldwide press to witness Jack Woodman become the first man in space. Instead, they witnessed the catastrophic failure of the Kingsman rocket as it exploded on the pad, killing 53 and injuring hundreds. While the RCMP would arrest several “syndicalist terrorists” in the aftermath, consensus outside Canada was that the rocket failed due to rushed development.

The Kingsman I rocket explodes on the pad. Among the injured were King Edward himself, who suffered ruptured eardrums.
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The catastrophic failure of Kingsman I significantly influenced both the Russian and German space programs, as both nations feared similar failures. The KWO was especially affected, as it had been rushing to catch up to their Russian counterparts. Now any plans required careful reevaluation, as both the Kaiser and the Chancellor made it clear that no German rocket was to explode on the launchpad. Meanwhile, the RKB only adjusted their timetable to allow for more testing. These efforts paid off, and Pavel Ivanovich Belyayev became the first man in space during the Stremleniye 1 flight.

Pavel Ivanovich Belyayev posing for his pre-launch photo. When asked later in life if he was worried about meeting the same fate as Jack Woodman he responded: “I didn’t have time to think. I had too many checklists to get through.”
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In the ensuing decade, the three main space agencies would compete in achieving various scientific and engineering firsts. Political commentator (and occasional politician) Helmut Schmidt remarked that “When people said that the next war would be fought with missiles, I don’t think this was what they had in mind.”

This “war” ended on June 16th 1972 when the KWO’s Odin VII mission landed on the Moon, and Philipp Grünewald became the first person to step on another celestial body. The event was broadcast around the world, despite fears of another Kingsman I situation, and was, in the words of project lead Wernher von Braun, “the final proof of German technical superiority”. However, this proved to be the high point of early space exploration. Von Braun’s death a few years later combined with financial downturns would hamper the KWO’s efforts. Though they were fortunate compared to the Canadian RSAS, which was effectively shuttered for two decades following the July coup.

The next great surge in space exploration would not happen until the 2030s. It was largely driven by the discovery of the Maranzgoz principle, allowing for much more efficient space travel, and the ensuing boom led to a mad scramble for resources around the solar system. The German Reich, spearheading the efforts of the Europäischer Wirtschaftsbund, established three outposts in the asteroid belt alone, the largest being their station of Ceres.

The economic boom unleashed by this flurry of activity had major side effects back on Earth. The American Republic was the first major victim. Having never really recovered industrially from the ravages of the Second Civil War and the Canadian occupation, the country had focused on agriculture and resource extraction. Already under significant pressure from increased automation, the influx of large amounts of high-grade mineral ores from space caused widespread unemployment and social unrest. Combined with the crop failures caused by 2034’s “double winter”, the nation found itself on the edge. When President Mary Whitehall vetoed the Basic Income Act, it pushed the nation over it. The Third American Civil War was not as organised or as destructive as the previous two, being mainly fought on a local level by a diverse group of militias. However, it did cement America’s reputation as a failed experiment.

American militia members during the Third American Civil War. Many of the groups were poorly trained and equipped, but highly motivated.
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In Europe, tariffs and automation taxes buoyed the various EW states as they began implementing universal basic income and other social policies. While often not popular among the upper classes, they were widely seen as necessary. EW parliamentarian Jean-Pascal Boulet summed it up when he noted that “This ends one of two ways. Either we pass this bill, or you can join me when we’re guillotined on Place de la Concorde.[1]”

Elsewhere in the solar system, the first permanent settlement was established on Mars. Largely headed up by scientists, the outpost was dug into the side of the Mariner Valley and employed between 50 and 200 people at any time (assisted at all times by a small army of robots). While the research was diverse, the public’s attention was squarely on the possibility of terraforming Mars, a dream since the early days of science fiction. This was despite most experts claiming it would take centuries, if not millennia, with current technology.

Part of this fascination was possibly inspired by the declining climate situation on Earth. By the 2050s, most coastal settlements (that could afford it) were protected by a sea wall. Super hurricanes (usually no longer classified as that anymore due to their regularity) plagued the Americas, worsening the ongoing civil war in the American Republic, and Asia. In the latter region, Japan was especially exposed.

The Bangkok sea wall, protecting the city from surges. Similar walls could be found around most coastal settlements by 2050.
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Having experienced a coup d’état following its defeat at the hands of Russia and China, Japan had turned towards isolationism once more. The few diplomats and journalists who could enter the country told of an almost neo-feudal state where scores of uneducated workers toiled away in fields, mines and factories to benefit a rigidly defined caste system. As natural disasters battered the islands with increased frequency, most analysts projected a breakdown in social order within the decade. It was a shock when Japan launched their own space program, establishing a mining colony on Eunomia, dubbing it Bitoku[2].

Unlike the off-world mining colonies of other nations, which were largely automated and required just the bare minimum of personnel, most of the work on Bitoku was done by hand. The population ballooned as a result, passing 45.000 in less than four years[3]. A significant portion of the workforce was convict labour and conditions were predictably poor. Deaths were common, with one anecdotal story being that any man sent to Bitoku carried his own body bag in his kit bag.

In 2059, one of Bitoku’s poorly maintained airlocks failed, venting the atmosphere of 356 workers. Most of them were asleep when it happened, and only 63 managed to evacuate or don a pressure suit in time. When the leak had been fixed and the bodies sent to recycling (a common practice on Bitoku), colony administrator Norihisa announced over the broadcasting system that due to the loss of life and time, a double shift would be required to meet their quota.

This turned out to be a poor decision, as furious workers stormed the administration centre of the colony, overwhelming the guard force by sheer numbers. Norihisa was beaten to an inch of his life and then dragged to the nearest airlock. There he was asked if he wanted a space suit or not before they threw him out. He requested to have one. For the next six hours he would beg the workers to let him back in. His pleas were recorded and broadcast back to Earth.

A street mural depicting the spacing of Norihisa. It appeared overnight in Madrid and proved immensely popular. Copies soon appeared in cities all around the world. The original artist has never been identified.
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Back on Earth, the events on Bitoku caused an outrage. Network pundits debated the morality of the situation endlessly, with countless arguments in favour or against the miners. The major governments of Earth, especially Germany, Russia and China, were also hotly debating the issue, though with less concern for the morality of the situation. Japan was already assembling a force to retake Bitoku, chartering every transport ship they could get their hands on as they assembled Earths first spaceborne army. Naturally, none of the Great Powers, and especially China, were keen on the Hermit Kingdom having free reign in space. A response was needed, but the potential aftermath weighed heavily on all parties.

The German government, already regarding themselves as Weltpolizei, proposed retrofitting a few ore carriers with simple kinetic strike missiles. There were already a few freighters docked at the Kaiser Whilhelm II Shipyards, and the dockworkers estimated they could arm the ships in a matter of weeks. China, Russia and Canada were less eager, remembering the disastrous Australasian Intervention. Meanwhile, they lacked the appropriate dockyard facilities to offer their own solution.

Into this series of secret talks, the workers of Bitoku threw a lit torch by declaring their independence from Japan, declaring themselves the Stellar Republic of Bitoku. They followed this by announcing that they would promulgate a constitution and hold elections by the end of the year. The establishment of humanity’s first off-world nation notably changed the discourse, among the public if not among the Great Powers. Discussions were still ongoing on the German plan when Chinese signal intelligence intercepted a message from the Japanese High Command to General Kitamura, who was heading up the Japanese task force. The message was simple and direct, instructing him to vent the atmosphere of Bitoku and not leave any survivors.

The proposed flag of the Stellar Republic of Bitoku. A large portion of the workers on the colony were political prisoners, giving their revolt greater political sophistication than the Great Powers expected.
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This document, later known as the Kitamura Intercept, both underscored the consequences of not doing anything and handily gave all governments involved the moral high ground for the intervention. Germany, Russia, China and Canada all signed the “Space Militarisation Agreement”, which “gave” Germany the right to construct three spaceborne warships. While the agreement didn’t specify what consequences there would be should Germany exceed this number, the unspoken spectre of a ruinous arms race was clear to everyone.

Work began immediately with crews working around the clock to retrofit the ore carriers. However, Kitamura expedited his schedule, departing Earth on a hard burn two weeks ahead of the most optimistic German schedules. This was not as catastrophic as first assumed, as the Japanese freighters were heavily loaded with soldiers and supplies. The German ships however were lightly crewed and loaded, giving them a much better thrust to weight ratio. Even so, the ships had to depart before the retrofits were complete. The work would have to be finished en route to Bitoku.

The task force was led by Captain Torben Rheingold. Rheingold had served as a u-boat commander in the Kaiserliche Marine and had been involved in several special operations throughout his career and was regarded as an especially aggressive commander. But the German military was aware that sending a naval officer into space might cause some limitations of imagination. In an effort to mitigate this, they assigned Major Eva Lasch as his second in command. Major Lasch had served with distinction during the Australasian Intervention, becoming one of the few modern aces during the conflict.

Captain Torben Rheingold and Major Eva Lasch, both veterans of their respective branches. They would write the book on space combat, literally and figuratively.
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The two worked well together. In his memoir “A Sea Without Waves”, Rheingold noted that “It was absurd. During the day we would supervise the retrofits and make sure we were still on course for our intercept. Then during the evening we would run through scenarios, detailing what we would do if the Japanese did this or that. All we had to base our work on were physics simulations and our own military intuition. We were laying the foundation of the Reich’s military doctrine, and we making it up as we went.”

Their work was put to the test three days journey from Bitoku. The German task force had been inside effective weapons range for several days at that point, but the Japanese freighters showed no sign of stopping or changing course. Captain Rheingold, with the backing of the German government back on Earth, issued an ultimatum to the freighters. If they did not deviate from their course within the next twelve hours, the German ships would open fire.

Back on Earth, the world held its breath. The militaries of South East Asia were on high alert while the civilian populations hoarded food and other essentials. The fear that Japan would lash out was palpable.

The streets of Pyongyang were empty in the hours leading up to the German ultimatum.
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The twelve-hour deadline passed without any action from the Japanese ships. Captain Rheingold wasted no time, and seventeen seconds past the deadline, a single kinetic missile was launched at General Kitamura’s flagship. The missile spent the next 21 minutes and 48 seconds catching up with its target, time that the Japanese spent trying to evade the missile to little effect. It hit the primary loading dock, passing through the entire ship and ejecting large amounts of atmosphere. Captain Rheingold then messaged the ships, telling them that he would fire a single missile every hour, on the hour until they changed course, or were all dead. Seven minutes before the next missile was due to be fired, the Japanese task force adjusted their vector, heading for home.

The Japanese government would later claim that nobody was injured in the attack[4], and that General Kitamura only turned around due to “an overwhelming concern for the safety of his crew in the face of imperialist aggression.” Despite this, Kitamura would commit suicide before returning to Earth.

The aftermath of the Bitoku incident was in many ways anticlimactic. The Japanese government returned once more to its isolationist stance, even as Chinese intelligence suggested a violent power struggle had broken out among senior government officials. While on Bitoku, as promised, a constitution was promulgated and elections were held, with the pro-German “Earth Rapprochement Party” achieving plurality.

Once back in Earth orbit, both Captain Rheingold and Major Lasch were awarded promotions. Rheingold was made an admiral in the newly created Kaiserliche Raumstreitkräfte, while Lasch was promoted to the new rank of Kapitän der Weltraum. The German government also announced plans to design and construct three new, purpose-built warships. This last part rankled some feathers among the other signatories of the Space Militarisation Agreement, especially Canada, who considered this a breach of the agreement. However, the Germans considered the agreement to be a limit on the number of ships, and as long as they decommissioned the converted ore carriers, they would still abide by the agreement. Despite the grumbling, none of the other Great Powers made any substantial efforts to prevent this. Though China and Russia would establish a committee to design their own warships, should the need arise.

The Agatha Dorn, lead ship of her class, was the first purpose-built space warship. Each ship had a standard compliment of 82 and carried a wide assortment of weapons.
​

The new ships, the Agatha Dorn, the Adolf Hitler and the Erich Burchwald would have largely uneventful careers, generally limited to patrolling the system, and responding to civilian ships in distress. That was until the 21st of March, 2071.

In the early morning of that day, a series of solar flares caused an error at an Argentinian early warning radar. The radar interpreted the flares as the launch signatures of several Brazilian ballistic missiles. The message was rushed to the Argentinian president, Emelia Álvarez, who was still asleep. Faced with reports of a surprise attack by Argentina’s historic enemy, she ordered an immediate retaliatory strike. Within minutes Argentinian missiles were streaking towards their targets in Brazil. This in turn provoked a response from the Brazilians. For the first time in a hundred years, nuclear weapons were used in anger.

A nuclear explosion caught by the Brazilian life streamer Walpurgis. The stream cut out moments later.
​

At the same time, Captain Kristine Hartig was just stepping onto the bridge of the Erich Burchwald. The ship was in low Earth orbit in order to conduct boarding drills with the transport shuttle Gambol Shroud. The ship’s sensors immediately detected the ballistic missiles, believing them to be aimed at the ship. Acting based on automated responses, the ship’s point defence guns opened fire, destroying two missiles before the crew had time to determine what was happening.

It didn’t take long for Captain Hartig to assess the situation and decide on a course of action. Within a minute she had called the crew to battle stations, sent a warning to other ships in the area and ordered the point defence guns to open fire on every missile contact. She then sent a notoriously terse message back to the Raumstreitkräfte’s High Command:
“Nuclear exchange in South America. Several ballistic missiles detected. Intercepting.”

Captain Hartig would then bring the Erich Burchwald as low as possible while still remaining in the engagement zone. This carried significant risks for the ship, but would also give the point defence guns a better chance of hitting their targets. Over the next 73 minutes, the Erich Burchwald would destroy or disable 93% of the ballistic missiles, saving millions of lives.

Unfortunately, a significant amount of the nuclear weapons used were not carried by ballistic missiles, but instead smaller weapons carried by cruise missiles. These, combined with the missiles that slipped past the Erich Burchwald, would cause millions of deaths, the complete destruction of infrastructure in both nations, and significant environmental destruction. Among the dead was President Emelia Álvarez, who perished along with most of her government when a Brazilian ground penetrating weapon detonated 200 metres from the bunker she was sheltering in.

Remains of a village caught on the outskirts of a nuclear detonation.
​

The ensuing relief operation was scattershot and disorganised. Supplies from neighbouring countries arrived at the coast, but the ruined docks meant that unloading the ships often had to be done by hand. Getting the supplies from the coast and deeper inland proved nearly impossible as most of the transport infrastructure was also destroyed. The few relatively intact roads were clogged with refugees. The situation worsened when it became clear that the fallout was blowing north, into neighbouring countries. Much of the initial relief had been organised by other South American nations. Now the ships carrying relief efforts were turned around to help deal with the incoming disaster back home.

The Kaiserliche Marine would not arrive until four days after the disaster, but it proved to be the first force able to manage the relief efforts. When planes and ships laden with supplies arrived from Canada, Russia and China, they operated under German command with few objections. Though the enormity of the tragedy overshadowed it, it was one of the first instances of the Great Powers working together without realpolitik getting in the way.

The German carrier Roon was on exercise in the South Atlantic when the nuclear exchange happened. She was the first German asset to arrive in the region.
​

This spirit of cooperation would last long enough to form the “South American Reconstruction Mandate”, an international body set up to oversee the long term relief efforts. The body was largely administered by South American nationals with substantial donations of equipment and money from the international community. The SARM was granted some degree of supranational authority, extending even to South American nations not directly affected by the disaster.

In the months following “El Error”, as it had become known due to a poorly worded comment from an Argentinian general, there were several shifts in international politics. The Canadian Parliament vowed to completely denuclearise its military within two years. The Nordic Union would follow, despite officially not having nuclear weapons. Calls for the same were heard in Germany, Russia and China. While none of the other Great Powers would commit to full denuclearisation, there was an increased willingness to talk. The ensuing NWR talks would lead to the lowest number of active nuclear weapons since the end of the Second Weltkrieg.

One of the more unexpected casualties of “El Error” proved to be the crew of the Erich Burchwald. The entire crew would receive the Order of the Black Eagle, Captain Hartig receiving it with the chain. She would also receive honours from the French, Canadian, American, Russian and Chinese governments, as well as awards from every South American nation that still had a functioning government. Despite this she would constantly torment herself, thinking of ways she could have stopped more missiles[5]. Two months after the incident she was relieved of command and put into psychiatric care. Despite some of the best treatment available, Captain Hartig was found dead in her apartment two years later, a pistol in her hand. She was given a state funeral, attended by Kaiserin Louise and dignitaries from around the world.

Captain Hartig’s grave, located in her hometown. While the government wanted to have her interred in Berlin, her family refused. The grave is frequently visited by South American travellers paying their respect.
​

Captain Hartig was the second member of the Erich Burchwald’s crew to commit suicide. Weapons Officer Lehmann had leapt from a bridge a year earlier. In total, seven of the eighty-one crewmembers would commit suicide. All but two would receive medical discharges.

It was in this environment that Dr. Perrin and Dr. Engberg published a paper on the mathematical proof for the existence of “hyperlanes”, corridors of spacetime where matter had negative mass, leaving it unaffected by general relativity. The paper was released to little fanfare among the general public, but revolutionised the field of astrophysics. For the first time, faster than light travel seemed like a realistic possibility.

And there was evidence that such “hyperlanes” existed within reach of Earth.



[1] Notably, Boulet was guillotined during the Nine Week Directorate, for reasons unrelated to the bill. However, it took place on the Champ de Mars.

[2] Commonly rendered as 美徳, and translated to mean Virtue.

[3] For comparison, Ceres, until then the largest outpost in the solar system, never passed 3.500.

[4] Most analysts agree that this is not true. The missile was later examined to evaluate its effectiveness, and it was discovered to be covered in human viscera.

[5] Simulations done by the Raumstreitkräfte largely proved her wrong. Researchers working with mathematical models found that doing everything perfect would at most have led to 2.6% more missiles being destroyed. When officers of the Raumstreitkräfte tried recreating the situation in simulations, only two managed to destroy more simulated warheads. Both of these officers had studied the actions of Captain Hartig extensively before stepping into the simulator.

 

[Side]

The Jump
​

March 2100 - Aboard the Johannes von Gmunden - Jump Point Alpha

The Johannes von Gmunden, the first, and so far only, ship of her class. The ship was largely a testbed for the Perrin-Engberg drive, but carried enough supplies and equipment to carry out an extended survey should her mission be a success.
​

Lunch was quiet. None of the normal jostling between Mao and Řezník. Instead, they were model crew members. It was uncanny. If he hadn’t known better, Captain Albert Dressler would have preferred they stay that way.
I guess everyone deals with nerves their own way.

It struck Albert that if things didn’t work out today, this would be his last meal. He looked down at the pack of rehydrated mushroom soup. Even a condemned man would get a better meal than this. Unstrapping himself from his seat, he pushed away and floated over to one of the storage cabinets.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. McLauren asked.
“Nothing,” Albert said while rummaging through the cabinet. He found what he was looking for. “I just thought that we should treat ourselves to something better today.”

He threw the packs to his crew and watched them sail gently through the air until people snatched them. Řezník missed his and had to unstrap and go chasing it down while enduring Mao’s mocking laughter. This was more like it.
Řezník chased down his pack and studied it. “Chocolate, sir?”
“Ohh… Now this is fine dining,” Mao said mockingly. “Truly no expense spared.”

People laughed. It was nervous and forced, but Albert was pleased. It would have to do. He checked his watch. Three hours. Three hours until either his greatest triumph, or his death. His brother had told him he’d put money on his death.
“My terrible luck will keep you safe,” he’d explained. Albert wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. He hadn’t mentioned this to his parents. His mother was in denial about any risk, blithely confident that everything would work out.

He finished his chocolate and cleaned up after himself, then made his way to the communication section. Sitting in front of the camera, his finger hovered over the record button. Who would he send it to? More importantly, what would he say that hadn’t been said already?

He took a deep breath, then spent the next hour watching the videos he’d already received; wishes of good luck from his parents, his brother, friends, university buddies, the men who had served under him during his time in the navy. He felt rather sorry for them. He would know if everything worked within the day. However, Dr. Christiansen had explained that it would take a week, possibly more before everyone on Earth knew if the mission had been a success. He wasn’t sure how that worked, but that wasn’t his job either. He had people under his command who understood it, and that was enough. His job was to keep them safe.

A soft chime came through the speaker system.
“Two hours until jump,” Schneider’s voice said. “Make yourselves ready for final prep. And if any of you are on good terms with your god, now is the time to ask for a little help.”
Albert gave a soft chuckle, then got up and made his way to his quarters where his soft suit was waiting. They weren’t expecting atmosphere failure, but they were also not sure what they should expect. But if something did go wrong, loss of atmosphere would be the least of their issues.

Making his way to the bridge, he strapped into the commander’s seat. Lukas Schneider was already there, his helmet strapped to the side of his chair. Dr. McLauren was at her station as well. She didn’t have much to do until they found a planet, if they found a planet, but he’d argued for putting as much of the crew on the bridge as possible, even if they didn’t have any tasks. They all deserved to be there for this historic moment.

The minutes ticked slowly down, people going through their checklists. When the timer reached T minus 30 minutes, he pressed the comm display.
“All right ladies and gentlemen. We have one final well-wisher that wants to talk to us.”

He pressed another button and turned on the recording. Kaiser Wilhelm IX appeared on everyone’s screen. He was as stately as could be, giving an audience only to them.
“Brave travellers. I have little to say, because most of it has already been said. Today I do not speak to you as the Kaiser of Germany. Today I speak to you as another citizen of Earth. You will not only fulfil the dreams of my mother, but also the dreams of every person on Earth. Because who has not gazed at the starry night and wished they could travel to them? You will make that dream a reality for all of humanity.”
The Kaiser took a deep breath, his eyes darting down to the desk in front of him. When he looked back up he had the steely gaze of his ancestors.
“Good luck, and Godspeed.”

The silence was only interrupted by the faint hum of the life support and the beeping of the countdown.
“The Kaiser just wished me good luck,” Schneider said. “And Mom said I would never amount to anything.”
People chuckled. It was the same nervous laugh as during lunch, but it would do.

The timer continued its way to zero. As they got closer the people in charge of the ship began reading off values and working their way through the end of their checklists. Albert didn’t have to do much. They all knew their job.
“Spooling up the Perrin-Engberg drive,” Schneider said as the timer reached T minus 3 minutes. The entire ship gradually began to vibrate as he said it. “Full power in 150 seconds.”

The hum grew in intensity as the seconds ticked away. The display showing the drive spooling up grew towards 100%. It reached it with 23 seconds left on the clock. Schneider turned to Albert, his hand hovering over a button on his console.
“Any final words, Captain?”
“No.” Albert took a final deep breath. “Execute.”

Schneider pressed the button and Albert’s stomach disappeared. He jerked down in his chair, breathing heavily. Looking around, he saw everyone else had similar reactions. Dr. McLauren was fumbling with her helmet. She got it off not a moment too soon as she leaned towards the floor and vomited. Except they were in zero-g, so the vomit had a trajectory towards the floor, but wasn’t in a hurry to get there.

“Report,” Albert said.
“Mao vomited in her helmet,” Řezník said over the radio. His voice was professional, but Albert knew he was laughing his ass off internally.
“Dr. McLauren was a bit luckier up here,” Albert said. “I think we’re all rather queasy. Make note of that as an unintended side effect.”
“Will do.”

Schneider, how are we looking?”
“Everything is green here,” he said, moving across his instrument panel with a practised hand. “According to the internal clock, the actual jump lasted 1.3 seconds. Less than projected.”
“Well then… Dr. Christiansen, where are we?”

The astronomer didn’t respond at first, but then he got a request for putting the external telescope feed on everyone’s screens. Albert approved it immediately. What appeared was a pair of stars in orbit around each other.
“Welcome to Alpha Centauri,” Dr. Christiansen said.

There was no cheering. Everyone was too stunned to even comprehend what they had done. They had succeeded. Humanity was now interstellar.

The telescope shifted and focused on something else. A small blue and green ball that looked strange, yet so eerily familiar.
“Allow me to direct your attention to something I spotted while I was taking our bearings.”
Dr. McLauren’s jaw was trying to reach the floor while her eyes were fixed on the screen.

“All right, people. We have a job to do,” Albert said. “Deploy the communication buoy. Let people back home know we made it. And I have a destination in mind. That ice planet there looks interesting. I want a closer look at it.”
Dr. McLauren stared daggers at him while the rest of the crew laughed. This time it wasn’t nervous.

* * *
​

On the 28th of February 2100 the Johannes von Gmunden, under the command of Captain Albert Dressler, made the first interstellar jump using the Perrin-Engberg drive. There had been significant uncertainty if the drive would work. Or if it did work, that the crew would survive the journey.

Even if the journey was successful, the effects of relativity on the crew would affect the result. While the journey would be close to instantaneous for the Johannes von Gmunden’s crew, the journey one way was estimated to take three to four days for people on Earth. With a return trip taking the same amount of time, the intervening week was nicknamed “the Long Week”. To keep from wasting time, it had been decided that the Johannes von Gmunden would not return immediately, but instead deploy a communications buoy. This would carry four dozen probes with a miniaturised version of the Perrin-Engberg drive. The Johannes von Gmunden would then put their report on one of these probes, which would travel back through the hyperlane. With an equivalent buoy already close by Jump Point Alpha, Earth and the Johannes von Gmunden could keep in contact with relatively minor delays in communication.

On Earth, the Long Week ground on as those people with jobs kept busy with work. But for the millions on basic income, all this time was spent on ComBoards and MNets, discussing whether the mission had been a success or not, theorising about what they would find on the other side and debating what the effect this would have on humanity. Contemporary writer Nellie Jame noted:
“We’re all trying to avoid the omnipresent nervousness that has its claws firmly in us, yet everywhere we look we see reminders. There is nothing we can do, because the die has already been cast by people who are the furthest away anyone has ever been. Whatever comes, comes.”

This mix of interest, boredom and anxiety caused one of the largest media frenzies in modern history. Every detail of the mission was examined from every angle, but this well soon ran dry. The media immediately turned to everyone related to the project. At first it was the engineers and administrators of the project, but the attention soon turned to the more human stories of the crew instead. But with the crew out of reach, the journalists descended on everyone related to them. This came to a head when two journalists in Scotland broke into the home of Dr. Rosanne McLauren’s parents. The Scottish government responded by giving the relatives an armed guard. Other nations soon followed.

Not all of this discussion was hopeful. The vast resources the German government had spent was widely criticised, both within Germany and without. In the years leading up to Johannes von Gmunden’s jump, basic income had stagnated and the project was often blamed (while others would say scapegoated) for this. Outside of Germany, the criticism was often more fantastic in nature, with worries that the project could bring humankind into contact with hostile alien empires. Others had concerns of a more spiritual nature, with several Abrahamic sects denouncing the project, claiming that God had limited humanity to the solar system in accordance with his plan. The papal brief of 2098 declaring that the “hyperlanes were a gift from God” only increased tensions.

The Long Week ended eight days later, on the 8th of March. A single probe exited the hyperlane, broadcasting an encrypted message. While the proof of life from the Johannes von Gmunden’s crew became immediate news around the world, the actual message was known only to a select few within the German government and her allies. The exited speculation that followed was later dubbed “the Long Day” by historian Jonathan Boyle.

When the press conference was arranged the next day, the gathered administrators from the KWO were taciturn. Fears of the worst were dashed when they informed the gathered press that they had a special message from Captain Dressler. Video footage showed the gathered crew of the Johannes von Gmunden standing in front of the German coat of arms. Captain Dressler stepped forward and congratulated his crew on a successful jump. The audience was then treated to the spectacle of champagne being sprayed in microgravity. When the entire crew was properly drenched, Captain Dressler turned to address the camera directly.
“I’m sorry, but we have to go now. We’ve found some very interesting things. Here, let us show you.”
The image shifted, instead showing a small orb of blue and green, hovering in the darkness.

The first image of Alpha Centauri, taken by Dr. Christiansen aboard the Johannes von Gmunden. Dubbed the ‘Ringed Marble’, it would go on to be one of the symbols of early space exploration.
​

While speculations about the Johannes von Gmunden’s fate had been extreme, they were nothing compared to what Alpha Centauri III was subjected to. Most agreed that there was probably life on the planet. Atmospheric data gathered by the Johannes von Gmunden’s sensors indicated an atmospheric composition quite similar to that of Earth and the planet had “mega-forest-analogues” visible from space. The German Reich hastily organised a scientific conference to aid in the processing of the data sent back from the Johannes von Gmunden. Invitations were sent out globally[1] and the delegates would gather in the city of Stettin in the following weeks.

The discovery of life on Alpha Centauri III put a final end to the question of whether humanity was alone in the universe.
​

The immediate effect of the Johannes von Gmunden’s success was a significant uptick in Chancellor von Kleist’s approval rating, bringing it up to 84%, the highest approval of any Chancellor since the 2038 Winkler government. When he presented a bill to the Reichstag requesting funding for another exploration ship fitted with the Perrin-Engberg drive, the vote received unanimous support. This was mostly a formality, as the government had already negotiated with the opposition. If the Johannes von Gmunden managed to traverse the jump successfully, funding would be granted. Shipyard space had been held off, and the construction of the Bernhard Walther began at once.

However, finding life on Alpha Centauri III would not be the biggest discovery the Johannes von Gmunden made.

​

[1] - Even the Japanese Kamioka Institute was asked to send representatives. They, not unexpectedly, declined the invitation

---

So that's the end to the prologue, and we're whooping two minutes into the average Stellaris game. I hope to get the next part up soon, but it may take a bit longer to get ready.

 

[Side]

Groundside
​

April 2100 - Alpha Centauri III

A pair of Centauri Monitors guard their nest from an expedition drone. While fiercely protective of their young, the alien megafauna were found to be amicable, if inquisitive and fearless. In her reports, Dr. McLauren described them as having “the curiosity of cats.” On one occasion, a trio of lizards came right up to the shuttle, forcing the crew to beat a hasty retreat.
​

“Doctor, can you please not touch that? We don’t know if it’s poisonous. Or actually dead.”
Rosanne glared up at the soldier, but did pull her hand back from the cadaver. Captain Dressler had made it very clear to all the non-military members of the expedition that Mao’s orders were the law, and that she had permission to handcuff them and drag them back to the shuttle if they broke said law.

Mao and Řeznik had both been paranoid bastards ever since they landed, waving guns at whatever blade of grass-analogue that moved. Rosanne had been muttering unflattering names at them for the last two days, but the carcass told her they had a point. The creature was the size of an elephant, with thick, leathery skin covered in mottled green fur. Řeznik had asked if their rounds could penetrate skin like that. Mao’s silence spoke volumes.

And despite this, something had utterly disembowelled the creature. Then ripped large chunks of flesh from its back.

Rosanne stood back up. If she couldn’t examine the creature up close, then she would document what she could. Taking as many pictures as she could, from as many angles as Mao would allow, she sent a data packet up to the Johannes von Gmunden for relay with the next drone. She’d taken over two million pictures so far, and every returning drone came with demands for more.

Malinowski was gathering up soil samples (Mao apparently didn’t consider the ground a threat). As Rosanne came close he looked up with a glint in his eyes. He’d gathered about three kilograms of dirt so far and he’d told her that he couldn’t wait to get back to the Johannes von Gmunden to run some tests. She was jealous, she wasn’t allowed to bring back any living samples. Not yet at least.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“What do I think about what?”
“Isn’t it obvious? What killed that?” He nodded at the cadaver.
“Given we know next to nothing about the ecosys--”

The ear-piercing roar cut right through her environment suit and she immediately threw herself down. Malinowski did the same, but he also had his pistol in his hand. The cold, calm scientist part of Rosanne thought him a fool. If Mao and Řezník were worried their rifles wouldn’t be powerful enough to deal with whatever was out there, then what good would a handgun do? The cavewoman lizard part of her brain, however, agreed with him and she grabbed her own pistol. Looking up, she saw Řezník on one knee, his rifle at the ready. When he spotted her, he motioned for her to keep low.

Up ahead, Mao was creeping up to the treeline around the clearing. She was scanning it intently. Rosanne wasn’t sure what she’d seen, but kept her eyes on it as well. Minutes ticked by as sweat ran down from Rosanne’s forehead and into her eyes. Trying to blink it away, she was sure she saw something moving in the brush. Ever so slightly.

The creature was massive, emerging from the vegetation as if it was water. When it stepped out of the brush it was the size of a grizzly bear, but with the physique of a big cat. Black and grey fur covered the creature, except for a horn covered in blood and viscera. It stared at Mao, examining it with eyes that betrayed some kind of intelligence.
“What do we do?” Malinowski asked, clutching his pistol in a way that worried Rosanne.
“You do nothing,” Řezník said. “Lieutenant?”
“I’m going to try scaring it,” Mao said. “Be ready to shoot it if that doesn’t work.”

Slowly, while keeping her firing hand on her weapon, she reached for the flare gun at her belt. With the same slow, deliberate movements, she aimed at a spot ten metres to the left of the creature.
“Ready?”
“Ready,” Řezník replied.
Without hesitating, Mao fired the flare. It landed in the brush, the creature tracking it. When it exploded a moment later it jumped back and let out a roar that once again cut right through Rosanne’s environment suit. Mao, however, wasted no time and fired another flare at the same spot. It exploded a moment later and whatever intelligence the creature had, it didn’t understand flares. With slow steps, it backed away, before turning to run with terrifying speed through the forest.

Rosanne allowed herself to breathe again. She looked to Řezník and he nodded, so she stood back up. Malinowski was pale and hyperventilating.
“Can we go back to the shuttle?” Rosanne asked. “He doesn’t look good.”
Řezník came running over, examining Malinowski as best he could with the suit still on.
“Panic attack.” He reached into his medical pouch and brought out a small vial which he set into the injection port on Malinowski’s suit. It didn’t take long until his breathing slowed and colour returned to his face.

“How are you feeling,” Řezník asked, not looking away from his patient for a second.
“Better…” Malinowski looked to Rosanne. “What was that?”
“I think we just encountered one of the local apex predators. What I want to know is where it came from.”

“I’m no biologist, but I think it’s an ambush predator,” Mao said as she returned. “I think we stumbled into its hunting grounds. I think we should--”
She was interrupted by the radio. “Captain Dressler to away team, do you read?”
“Lieutenant Mao here. We just had a run in with the local wildlife. Massive thing with a mean disposition. Requesting more men, and the heaviest weapons we have.”
“Negative, Lieutenant. You are to get back to the shuttle and rendezvous in orbit.”

Mao gave everyone a sideways glance. “Sir, isn’t that a bit excessive? The situation here isn’t that dire.”
“It has nothing to do with the situation on the ground. We are leaving orbit and heading for Alpha Centauri IV as soon as possible.”
“What!” Rosanne broke into the net. “You can’t be serious. That’s just an icy rock. You can’t possibly expect us to leave this place for that?”

Mao gave her a death glare for breaking radio protocol, but didn’t say anything. When Captain Dressler spoke there was a great deal of patience in his voice.
“I understand your disappointment, Doctor. But Dr. Christiansen noticed something. There are satellites in Alpha Centauri IV’s orbit. Artificial ones.”

Everyone was quiet. Malinowski finally broke the silence.
“We should have brought an archaeologist.”

* * *
​

In late April of 2101, the KWO announced that they had discovered “ruins of an extraterrestrial origin” on Alpha Centauri IV. The rest of the world, already primed from months of history-making news, predictably exploded. Massive street parties broke out all over the world, while at the same time the suicide rate skyrocketed. Markets were in a state of flux as investors failed to interpret how this would impact humanity.

There was some confusion about what had been found. Alpha Centauri IV was host to massive cities half-buried in ice. However, no alien remains had been found. It was as if the entire planet had been abandoned. The exploration efforts were further hampered by the harsh climate and the fact that The Johannes von Gmunden had not carried any archaeologists or sociologists on board. The actual groundwork was instead being led by a geologist, Dr. Malinowski.

​

In Germany, there were immediate demands from the scientific community to launch a more significant expedition. The Johannes von Gmunden was not scheduled to remain in the Alpha Centauri system for an extended period, and did not have the necessary equipment (or personnel) required.

While there was significant support for further expeditions, the KWO’s budget could only support one. A bitter debate followed, between those who wanted a xenobiological expedition to Alpha Centauri III, and those who wanted an archaeological expedition to Alpha Centauri IV. In the end, thanks to massive public pressure, the Alpha Centauri IV expedition won out, and work began on outfitting a ship for the task.

The discovery of alien remnants brought up another question that had lurked in the back of everyone’s mind, but had been dismissed as being far fetched by most. Other sentient life had at one point clearly existed. What would happen if humanity encountered an extant alien civilisation?

The Stettin Conference, already well established to process and coordinate the vast amounts of data being sent back from Alpha Centauri, was thus expanded to include archaeologists, sociologists and political scientists. But the subject of first contact was not just academic. Every person on Earth had their opinion on how humanity should greet an alien civilisation, and they were not shy about sharing them.

Some views held more sway than others. Some pundits proclaimed that any alien race would exist in opposition to humanity, and should be met with a force if need be. These ideas were roundly dismissed, derided as the result of ‘a terminal overdose of alien invasion stories’. Likewise, those arguing that humanity should meet the aliens with open arms were also dismissed. The head of the First Contact Advisory Board, Dr. Leclair, remarked that “it is unlikely that intelligent life will take the form of nubile, green-skinned women eager to learn ‘this thing you call love’.”

One of the more persuasive arguments came from an unexpected source. A group representing various tribal interests in North and South America arrived in Stettin and requested to address the conference. While they were initially denied[1], pressure from the Central African Federation’s delegation got them admitted. Once inside the conference, the group’s leader, Millaray Lemun Quezada, addressed the assembly. She urged world leaders to remember the fate of her ancestors. How disease and war had driven the native people of America to collapse. And with a final plea for humanity to avoid the mistakes of the past, she ended her speech with one question: if contact was made with an alien species tomorrow, would humanity play the role of the natives, the Europeans, or something else?

In the end the delegation’s arguments won out, and the Advisory Board presented a cautious approach to any intelligent life. While many were unhappy with the compromise, most were at least happy that First Contact wouldn’t be handled by the German military.

​

But not everyone was looking at Alpha Centauri III and all its wonders. On their journey through the system, the Johannes von Gmunden had noted several celestial bodies that were suspected of having a wealth of mineral resources. In a private dinner with Chancellor von Kleist, Hannover based mining mogul Sofia Leonie Wolff suggested that the Johannes von Gmunden do a more thorough survey of the system before moving on. While von Kleist would always maintain that a thorough survey had always been planned (a claim that was backed up by the KWO), the fact that Wolff was a considerable donor to von Kleist’s campaign was noted by many critics. Following this, Wolff’s company, Ceres BG GmbH, would make significant investments, including ordering a zero-G construction craft as well as two new ore carriers, all equipped with Perrin-Engberg drives. The age of interstellar trade was about to begin.

[1] - Officially this was due to them lacking the necessary academic qualifications. Even at the time, few believed this.

 

[Side]

The Fermi Paradox
​

February 2102 - Kaiser Otto IV Technical University in Klagenfurt - Guidance Councillor’s Office

The Kaiser Otto University library. While most institutions had long since transitioned to a primarily digital collection, the University prided itself on a large paper collection.
​

The guy next to Adrian was tapping his foot from boredom, and it drove Adrian insane. He’d been smart, he’d brought a book. A physical one, from the library. The guy next to him had only brought his slate. It ran out of power two hours in. That was four hours ago.

Being bored was fine. Being bored in a way that distracted everyone else was unforgivable. He tried to focus on his book, a catalogue of the discoveries made on Alpha Centauri III, but the tapping was incessant.

The door to the councillor’s office opened and everyone’s attention was hyper focused. The girl who stepped out looked dejected, clearly holding back tears.
“Umm… Adrian Glöckner. You’re next,” she said before hurrying off.

Adrian stepped up, his legs feeling like they would collapse under him. He walked to the door with everyone’s gaze following him. He felt like he was walking to the gallows. Probably looked like it as well.

Opening the door to the small office, she found the guidance councillor, Ms. Pásztor sitting behind the desk. She was moving through some notes on her screen, then put up a countdown timer and had it count down ten minutes.
“Close the door and have a seat,” she said. Adrian did so without a word.

A minute passed with Ms. Pásztor reading from her screen.
“I understand you want to pursue a degree in biology.”
“Yes. I want to--”
“I can tell you right off the bat that you don’t have enough merits for in-person classes.”
“What about--”
“If someone drops off? I’m afraid that’s unlikely. There are 186 people on the waiting list for that course alone.”

Adrian took a deep breath. This was okay. He had expected this. His grades had never been good. Nowhere close to getting into a bad school, never mind a good one. So when he finished his mandatory education, everyone had just suggested basic income for him. That had seemed like a good idea at the time. That was seven years ago, and those seven years had been the worst of his life. He’d been floating through life, a steady stream of empty vids, porn and games. There were days where he’d been unsure what time of year it was.

“Then can you put me up as number 187?”
Ms. Pásztor shrugged and made some notes. Adrian continued. “I was thinking about doing independent studies.”
She peered at him. “That is an option, but I have to warn you, it will be hard. We have a significant drop off rate among the people taking in-person classes. And looking at your file, I don’t think you have the skills needed to finish this.”
“Don’t worry about that.”

She noticed the book he was holding in his lap.
“If you’re hoping to join one of those expeditions, they only take the best. People who have years of experience.”
“Then now would be a great time to start, wouldn’t it?”
She shrugged again and made some more notes on the file. “I’m putting you down for independent studies. Please confirm here.”

Adrian leaned over and put his fingerprint on the reader.
“When you leave, please have Ms. Grosser come in,” she said, resetting the countdown timer.

* * *
​

On the 10th of February 2102, the exploration ship Andreas Stöberl departed the Kaiser Wilhelm II Shipyards. It was the third ship of its type, the Bernhard Walther having been completed a year prior. However, unlike its sister ships, the Andreas Stöberl was not equipped to take a small crew vast distances. Instead, it would carry a massive crew of 214 people, mostly scientists, to explore the abandoned world of Alpha Centauri IV.

While both the public and the scientific community were excited about the expedition, there was no shortage of people disappointed that an expedition to Alpha Centauri III had to wait. The KWO had exceeded its budget with a considerable margin, even with emergency budgetary allocations. Work on an expedition craft wouldn’t start until early 2103, and the ship wasn’t expected to arrive in the system until August of 2104.

Despite this, much of the KWO’s administrators were secretly happy about the delay. Both public and political demand on the organisation had been extreme ever since the Johannes von Gmunden’s first jump. There had been constant demands to immediately react to every single discovery made. While nobody was talking publicly about it, the Andreas Stöberl expedition had been haphazardly organised, with the increased crew count straining the ship’s life support systems. So KWO planners were happy to have more time to properly prepare the Alpha Centauri III expedition.

Despite the delays, the Johannes von Gmunden and the Bernhard Walther continued their survey of the nearby star cluster, and both made startling discoveries.

A map of the local cluster. The Johannes von Gmunden was tasked with surveying the cluster surrounding Sol. Bernhard Walther was sent anti-spinward (colloquially called East), through the Vinjim system.
​

The Bernhard Walther led the charge with the discovery of an ancient mural on one of the Ackmall system’s moons. The mural, preserved in an artificial cave on the geologically inactive moon, was dated to be more than 80 million years old. The idea that an alien civilisation was active in the area while dinosaurs still roamed on Earth set the public’s mind ablaze. While a lot of the discussion was serious, at least one memorable animated film featured an alien war being fought on Earth. The film ended with victory for one side as it dropped an asteroid on Earth, leading to the Cretaceous extinction.

While the mural mostly contained technical and scientific details, it also provided a lot of data for sociologists who were trying to learn about the mural’s creators.
​

Not to be outdone, however, the Johannes von Gmunden discovered an abandoned space station in the Procyon system. Inside they found the mummified remains of several six-legged, mammalian-esque aliens. The shock of finding the physical remains of an alien species was intensified when the crew activated the long-dormant computer systems. It was clear that the aliens had known they were dying, and they had reprogrammed the station’s computer to act as a record. Though severely corrupted from millennia of solar radiation, the database contained a detailed record of their language.

The information was duly passed back to Earth, where the Stettin Conference, now an increasingly permanent fixture in the city, devoured it. Linguists and mathematicians poured over the information and found it surprisingly easy to translate. The alien species had been part of the “Irassian Concordat”, which had been active in the area about a million years ago.

Much like the discoveries on Alpha Centauri IV, there were calls for a more thorough investigation of the station. However, just as the KWO was about to start their petitions to the government, the Stettin Conference discovered references to the “Jovian Pox”, a plague that had ravaged the Concordat. With this discovery the Chancellery took immediate action, ordering the Johannes von Gmunden to quarantine the station. Any craft not specifically prepared to deal with infectious diseases were barred from docking with the station and the expedition crew would be subjected to a year long quarantine upon their return to Earth. While this may seem harsh to a modern reader, the Chancellery still remembered the 2068 “New Ebola” outbreak that killed 17 million people. While the scientific community were saddened by the decision, few disagreed with it.

Following the discovery of the Irassian Concordat, the KWO instructed all expedition craft to be on the lookout for more Concordat remains. As the station was “only” a million years old and in surprisingly good condition, there were high hopes that other facilities could be found.
​

These twin discoveries brought new, uncomfortable questions to the forefront. Humanity had only been an interstellar species for a few scant years, yet had in that time found the remains of three different civilisations, all dated to vastly different periods. Previously, one of the possible solutions to the Fermi Paradox had been that sentient life was either exceedingly rare or went extinct before becoming interstellar. Now it was clear that neither of these points was necessarily true, and that the Great Filter might still be ahead of humanity.

However, humanity would only get to wrestle with these thoughts for a year before a new variable was introduced.

In January of 2104, the Director of the KWO, Heinrich Walter von Roon, was informed of a potential error with the communication buoy sent to the Eissam system. Eissam, bordering on the Alpha Centauri system, had not been surveyed by any human spacecraft. The Johannes von Gmunden had been sent to explore the other systems in the cluster first. However, she had deployed one of her communication buoys to Eissam in preparation of any future travel to the system.

During a routine communications check, the KWO sent a probe from Alpha Centauri to Eissam, with instructions for the buoy to send one in return. It did so with no issue, but the technician quickly realised that it had returned with a garbled data package. At first it was believed to be the result of solar radiation, but the signal was too regular for that to be likely. Fearing for the integrity of their communication system, the KWO contacted the Raumstreitkräfte for assistance.

By chance, one of the Raumstreitkräfte technicians sent to aid the KWO had dinner with a colleague who worked in signal intelligence. After agreeing to take a look at the problem, she quickly realised that the signal was reminiscent of a military grade LIDAR ping. After testing the theory by having the Agatha Dorn fire a LIDAR ping on one of the buoys in the Sol system, the results were presented to the KWO, the Stettin Conference, and the German government. Humanity had just made first contact.

 

[Side]

Landing Day
​

August 2104 - SMR Meteor - Heavy Shuttle A - Alpha Centauri III Low Orbit

The SMR Meteor in orbit around Alpha Centauri III. The ship itself would remain in orbit, serving as a staging ground for traffic coming to or from the planet. The ship carried two heavy shuttles and several smaller crafts. The first shuttle would land and act as a semi-permanent shelter for the expedition crew, while the second would ferry down the heavy machinery needed to assemble “the dome”.
​

Dr. Jean-Lucien Brodeur checked the pressure seal on his soft suit one more time. The tests from the Johannes von Gmunden indicated the atmosphere was breathable, even a little high in oxygen, but he wasn’t going to be the one who put that to the test.

His wrist-mounted slate beeped, a ship-wide announcement telling everyone to find their seats.
“So it’s about to begin then…”
He made one more check of the seals on his helmet, then headed for the shuttle’s passenger compartment. Rows upon rows of crash seats had been installed. It was worrying in a way. Did the expedition expect this to get rough?

He found his seat and strapped in as the compartment filled with people. Some were chatting eagerly, others were being eerily silent. After some time he noticed a pattern: the scientists were quiet, the engineers weren’t. He wasn’t a sociologist, the few they’d brought along were still on the Meteor, but he wondered if it meant something. Maybe he could mention it to one of them later. Unlike the rest of the expedition, their work began before they left Earth.

His slate flashed with a priority transmission from Lt. Rüger. Jean-Lucien answered at once and the pilot’s face appeared on-screen.
“Dr. Brodeur, I would like an update on the storm hitting the southern continent.”
“Nothing new to report,” Jean-Lucien answered while pulling up the weather data to make sure. “It’s expected to make landfall tomorrow, but it shouldn’t have any influence on our site.”
Lt. Rüger nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. Sorry to disturb you.”

The transmission ended and the screen went blank. If the pilots were keeping track of the weather on different continents… Well, at least it wasn’t just the scientists who were nervous.

His earpiece crackled, and Lt. Rüger’s voice appeared on the main channel.
“Good morning meine Damen und Herren,” Lt. Rüger said, his voice now the calm cool of military pilots everywhere. “Welcome aboard this shuttle trip from the SMR Meteor to the surface. We’re expecting a transit time just short of an hour with minimal turbulence. The ground temperature is a cosy 22 degrees Celsius and clear skies. Before we depart, I ask that everyone check in that they’re seated and strapped in.”

Jean-Lucien pressed the check-in key that had appeared on his slate, then grabbed onto the crash harness. Others did the same all around him. Nobody was talking now.
“Very well then,” Lt. Rüger said. “All clear. Prepare for thrusters in 90 seconds.”
He counted down the final five seconds. People tensed up when he reached two. The shuttle shuddered as the thrusters fired, and they were underway.

There was indeed minor turbulence as they hit the atmosphere, but the journey down was nowhere near as dramatic as people had feared. As they descended, Jean-Lucien brought up the external camera feed on his slate. He suspected most people on the shuttle were doing the same. But unlike them, he wasn’t looking at the ground. Instead he studied the clouds, and their distinct greenish tint. They had fascinated him ever since he’d first seen pictures of them back in Stettin. He couldn’t wait to get a drone up there to take some samples. Alas, that would have to wait. Once on the ground, his job was to give the rest of the expedition accurate weather reports. Not the most glamorous assignment, but he understood the importance of it.

“Starting final approach,” Lt. Rüger said. “Touchdown in five minutes.”
Those five minutes lasted longer than the entire journey down as the mix of fear and excitement stretched out every second.
“Touchdown in ten.”
Jean-Lucien knew everyone was keeping their own count. He was at two when the skids reached firm ground.

“Meine Damen und Herren,” Lt. Rüger said, his cool tone just barely masking the giddiness he and everyone else were feeling. “Welcome to Neu Brandenburg.”

* * *
​

On the 19th of August 2104, the SMR Meteor made landfall on Alpha Centauri III, becoming the first permanent settlement on another world. The planet, while still officially called Alpha Centauri III, soon earned a nickname. As a significant portion of the expedition’s crew were alumni of the Brandenburg Technical University, the planet was colloquially referred to as Neu Brandenburg. While officially discouraged, the name often found its way into reports going back to Earth. From there it quickly spread through the media. By the end of the year, the planet’s de facto name had been decided.

Street parties broke out in several cities when news broke that the expedition had landed. In time the event would become a public holiday known as “Landing Day”, celebrated both on Earth and Neu Brandenburg.​

Work immediately started on “the dome”, a colossal steel and glass structure that would be environmentally sealed from the rest of the planet. While tests done by the Johannes von Gmunden had shown the atmosphere breathable for humans, the fear of cross-contamination was still significant. Once the dome was up and running, the rest of the expedition’s crew could be brought down, and more thorough studies would begin.

The Alpha Centauri III expedition had in many ways become a rollercoaster of shifting priorities. The Alpha Centauri IV expedition had taken both the funding and the spotlight from Alpha Centauri III. However, once on the ground, the Alpha Centauri IV expedition found little but windswept streets and decaying buildings. There were scant few signs of whoever had lived on the planet. The discovery of a massive underground tunnel network did suggest that the planet’s inhabitants had been forced to seek shelter underground, but concrete proof was proving elusive.

Exploration of the tunnels proved slow and, at times, treacherous.​

The Alpha Centauri III expedition fell further into the shadow when the German government announced, following protracted consultations with their allies and other major powers, that it had discovered signs of an extant alien civilisation.

The alien ships were of a curious design. While the overall structure was familiar to human engineers, certain features left them stumped.
​

Ever since the Johannes von Gmunden had made its first jump, humanity had been waiting for this moment. It was in many ways anticlimactic. There was no dramatic landing in front of the Reichstag, with mysterious figures walking down the ramp of their spaceship to a waiting human delegation. Nor was there armed conflict waged in the stars. Instead, the alien ships travelled around the Eissam system, surveying it much like humanity was doing elsewhere. It was clear the aliens knew of humanity’s presence. Ever since the discovery, the KWO had been beaming the Stettin Conference’s First Contact package at the ships. Most of the time there was no reply. The few times the aliens did react, typically in response to large amounts of data being sent their way, was to ping the buoy with a LIDAR pulse strong enough to damage it. After two drone replacements, it was decided to shift to more passive efforts.

The first contact efforts had its fair share of setbacks. Many of them would remain classified for decades. Usually this was due to matters of national security, but occasionally it was thanks to simple embarrassment.
​

After six months of relative silence from the alien ships, both the public and the scientific community had lost hope of any swift developments. And so the Alpha Centauri III expedition returned to prominence, as it had new discoveries to share. Every day it sent back pictures, videos and sound recordings of new species. Every day it sent back mountains of analysed data and reports of strange phenomenons. Every week the fields of zoology, botany and ecology were turned upside down thanks to new data. The head of Kaiser Otto IV Technical University’s newly established xenology course noted to its students that “Whatever you learn here will probably be outdated by the time you graduate.”

The wealth of information gained extra importance with the discovery of two more habitable worlds towards the end of 2106. The first was the discovery of a desert world in the Samnivik system. A scorching hot rock, with what little water was present confined to the poles, it was nobody’s idea of a pleasant world. However, it did fulfil the KWO’s criteria for a world that could sustain human life.

Samnivik II and its moon, Samnivik IIa. Samnivik IIa was geologically relatively young and still a molten rock. A suspected extrasolar capture, it was described as “slightly hotter than Samnivik II.”
​

The other, more appealing, discovery was Sirius III. A continental world similar to Earth and Alpha Centauri III, it showed great potential for farming.

The Johannes von Gmunden noted the extraordinary soil quality of Sirius III. As a result of climate destruction back on Earth, food shortages had once again become an issue. While some scoffed at the idea of solving Earth’s food shortages by growing it on a world lightyears away, several consortiums were lobbying the German government for permission to conduct a pilot project.
​

However, farming was not the only point of interest. During their expedition, the crew of the Johannes von Gmunden had reported feelings of elation. Further study concluded that strange crystals were responsible. These crystals were, through means not yet understood, having a therapeutic effect on humans.

​

While the Stettin conference, the KWO and the Reichstag were all in favour of sending an expedition to Sirius III, the question of money once again reared its head. While taxes and tariffs on off-world goods were growing, it was but a fraction of the massive costs spent on the space program. While there had so far not been significant calls to limit spending, this was mostly thanks to Chancellor von Kleist’s refusal to allow cuts in basic income and welfare.

According to Reichstag projections, it would not have the funds ready for an expedition until 2112, and that was assuming there were no unexpected expenditures in the intervening years. Disappointment was great, with Minister for Space Exploration Sebastian Baumann noting “the one thing holding back humanity from its destiny are the bean counters.”

A few weeks later Baumann was approached by representatives of the Sirius Off-World Agricultural Development Consortium[1]. They offered to sponsor 90% of the expedition’s cost in return for the exclusive right to agricultural developments, with an eye on exporting the produce back to Earth.

While the offer was well received by Minister Baumann and Chancellor von Kleist, it set off howls of anger across party lines. Von Kleist was accused of selling off an entire planet just to plant a German flag on it. These sentiments were echoed outside of Germany, where there was increased concern that Germany was using its de facto monopoly on space travel to establish itself as the only interstellar nation.

Following long talks behind closed doors, a compromise was reached. The consortium would “only” pay 60% of the expedition costs, but would in return receive exclusive rights for 25 years. The German state would also commit itself to providing logistical support for travel to and from Sirius, and tariffs on agricultural goods would be reduced by 2/3.

In the end, it was unclear which party had gotten the better deal. Projected profits for the members of the consortium were in the billions of mark. The German government on the other hand had another expedition underway. Construction on the SMR Komet began in late 2108.

Orbital map of Sirius III taken by the Johannes von Gmunden. In addition to the impressive soil quality, the planet was noted to be unusually flat.
​

[1] The consortium primarily represented Bayer AG, Deutz-Fahr and Nord-Südzucker AG, with some minor companies supplying agricultural equipment.

 

[Side]

Metadata
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March 2108 - Ministry of Space Exploration - Meeting room 6

​

“Are you telling me we found alien pornography?” Minister for Space Exploration Baumann sounded about as incredulous as one would expect.

“Well, yes, sort of.” The technician from the first contact team was blushing. Heinrich Walter von Roon wasn’t sure if it was from the subject matter, or having to explain it officially. “From what we can gather, it seems to be… ehm… a collection of sexually explicit images. We suspect it was sent as a prank.”

“I can’t wait to host the press conference,” Heinrich said, not even bothering to hide his smirk anymore. “Gathered members of the press, I am pleased to say that today we can present the first interstellar dick pic.”

“Well, in this case, it would be a stamen pic,” Dr. Leclair said. Her tone was so even that Heinrich couldn’t tell if she was joking or being dead serious.

Baumann didn’t get it. Of course he wouldn’t. Nobody in the room had known much of botany until last week.
“It will be easier to just show,” Heinrich said before Baumann could make his confusion heard. Leclair nodded at the technician and he typed a few commands into his slate. The image appeared on the screen at the far end of the meeting room.

“Is… Is that a plant? Or some kind of gasbag?” Baumann asked after several seconds of just staring.

“Yes, and no,” Dr. Leclair said. “From what we understand, that is sentient alien life.”

The image showed the plantlike alien that so so far was only known as ‘Beta Aliens. It showed a central bladder that they suspected was filled with some light gas to help with buoyancy. At the front was a mass of what they thought were eyes. They weren’t sure yet.

“It’s… disgusting,” Baumann finally said.

It wasn’t an unusual first reaction. Heinrich wasn’t sure what he had expected sentient alien life to look like, but it wasn’t this.

“Are we sure this is actually what they look like?” Baumann asked. “I mean, if I sent a picture of my cat, would the aliens think we were four legged and fluffy?”

“You make a good point, Minister, and there is the possibility that we are mistaken, but we do have supporting evidence.” Dr. Leclair stood up and walked over to the screen. “While we do not have anything near a complete understanding of their language, there are some repeating elements that seem significant to their culture. First is regarding stars as a source of nourishment.”

“Makes sense,” Baumann said. “There wouldn’t be life on Earth without the Sun.”

“That is correct, Sir, but it seems a bit more literal in this case. In fact, our linguists were confused until we made this discovery.” She motioned at the image.

“Another element is their apparent fear of fire,” Heinrich said. “It seems that their equivalent of ‘die in a fire’ is one of their strongest insults. Now, you noticed the gas bag they use to float, right? Our xenologists are working on a hypothesis that the bags are filled with methane, or possibly hydrogen. You can imagine how a creature with these… limitations… would view fire.”

Minister Baumann leaned back in his chair and covered his face with his hands as he took a deep breath.
“Okay… So where does that leave us? The aliens next door, who do not want to talk to us, are freaky gasbag plants who hate fire? I’m not sure this is something we should be showing to the general public. At least not until we know for sure. I don’t want to accidentally present some alien’s pet as a sentient species.”

The Minister stood up and regarded everyone in the room. “Thank you for keeping me up to date. Please forward the files to my assistant, and I will brief the Chancellor and the Kaiser as soon as possible.”

He said his goodbyes and left them. Heinrich looked to Dr. Leclair. “What do you think?”

“It could have gone better. At least he didn’t want to go public with it at once.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure how people will react to this one.”

* * *
​

By 2106, any hopes of easy communications with the aliens in the Eissam system had been replaced with increasing frustration. Despite continuous work by hundreds of linguists, social scientists, statisticians and other related fields, there was precious little to show for it. The main reason was the general lack of interest by the Beta Aliens[1], who reacted with hostility to any attempt at communication.

The Stettin Conference was thus forced to employ passive measures like signal interception to build an understanding of their language. This proved difficult, with the head of the First Contact Advisory Board, Dr. Lecair, comparing it to trying to learn Chinese by eavesdropping on conversations in a Beijing coffeeshop.

There was at least not a lack of conversations to eavesdrop on. The Eissam system was a flurry of activity, with the aliens establishing several mining operations in the resource rich system. And it was clear that the aliens knew humanity was there.

In addition to blasting them with LIDAR pulses, the aliens had also stolen one of the comm buoys and presumably taken it back to a lab somewhere to be studied. While replacing the buoy was expensive[2], most of the Stettin conference was ecstatic. Not only had the buoy sent back a lot of data as the alien ship approached, it was hoped this signified an increased interest from the aliens.

It was not to be. There was no further reaction from the aliens, and no ship would ever come that close again. Indeed, analysts noticed a curious pattern in the movement of ships in the system. They would often take massive detours, sometimes extending their journeys by weeks, just to keep as far away as possible from the hyperlane to Alpha Centauri. There were countless hypotheses explaining this, ranging from simple fear of the unknown to religious customs. Given the lack of concrete data, people got creative.

By 2107, the Stettin first contact team, the KWO and the German government were at their wits’ end, and they started to consider more active measures. For years pundits and online ‘experts’ had advocated for various easy solutions to the first contact difficulties. The most popular was to simply send the Johannes von Gmunden into the Eissam system and force the aliens to react. The idea was immediately dismissed by everyone who would have to sign off on the venture, but a variation on the idea was starting to take hold.

Instead of sending the Johannes von Gmunden into the system alone, it would be escorted by the three Agatha Dorn class gunships. Alternatively, the three warships could enter the system alone and try to make contact. The plan was controversial, with comparisons made to Commodore Matthew Perry ‘opening’ Japan. While the idea had its proponents, the Raumstreitkräfte were not among them. Fears that the ageing ships would be outmatched, leaving Earth defenceless, made the plan unviable.

​

That led to alternative plans. The most popular one being to hack into one of the transiting ships and attempting to download as much data as possible. The plan seemed viable. Early contact attempts had tried to upload the First Contact Protocols directly to ships in the system. It had proved surprisingly easy, with one communication technician noting that “[their] network security has more holes than a Canadian history book.” The only concern was how the aliens were going to react.

Despite this, the plan was given the green light. That was when fate intervened, and the Bernhard Walther entered the Briscoll system. The jump was a standard affair, mostly done so that astronomers could have some up-close data of the pulsar in the system. Captain Julia Heinemann was thus surprised to find a massive space station orbiting the pulsar. This surprise was replaced with excitement when the station started blasting the Bernhard Walther with signals mere hours later.

It didn’t take long for the “Gamma Aliens” to start sending math equations at humanity. It was clear that the aliens had their own version of the First Contact Protocols. While establishing communications was still a daunting task, at least the other party was receptive.
​

The immediate effect of this was the postponement of any hacking attempts as efforts were redirected towards the station. The incident has become one of the great what-ifs of history, with significant speculation of what would have happened had the hacking been attempted. Instead, humanity would get its large dataset from a different source.

In January of 2108, an alien freighter entered the Eissam system. This in itself was nothing unusual. The ship was one of a number like it in regular traffic to and from the system. However, halfway to its destination, when it was closest to the Alpha Centauri jump point, it fired off several laser pulses at the comm buoy. Unlike the previous high powered LIDAR pulses, this was more equivalent to a tightbeam laser usually used for ship to ship communication. This not only avoided damaging the buoy, it also gave a usable signal.

Back on Earth, the signal was poured over by researchers. Excitement rose when they realised that the signal wasn’t encrypted and contained instructions for rendering images. Indeed, most of the transmission seemed to be various image files. Work immediately began on translating the image format.

It didn’t take long for the first images to render. In the years since the discovery of the Beta aliens, there had been much speculation about their appearance. Some of it had been founded in careful analysis of their ships and behaviour. Most of it, however, was fuelled by people’s imagination. Both groups were widely off the mark.

Instead of some mammalian, or even reptile, equivalent, the aliens appeared to be some sort of sentient plant, suspended in the air by a gas bladder. For propulsion, it used a couple of small wing-like protrusions and four tentacles.
​

In most of the images, the aliens were doing strange, repetitive acts, sometimes alone, sometimes in groups, but mostly in pairs. For weeks the first contact team poured over the images, trying to make sense of them. They had no luck until the sociologist, Dr. Spiegel, suggested what most were already thinking: they were looking at alien pornography.

The frustration was palpable. The first contact team had been working for years on establishing contact and all they had to show for it were terabytes of lewd images. Senior members of the KWO and the German government decided to suppress the findings for the time being[3].

But a few weeks later disaster struck as hundreds of the images were leaked on several MNets. The public’s reaction was one of disgust. Not only were the aliens far stranger than people had imagined, but the nature of the images didn’t exactly put them in the best light. There were protests in several cities around the world, calling on the government to “do something” about the alien “threat”.

The authorities tried to calm people’s reactions, but with limited success. The source of the leak was never discovered.
​

As the KWO and the Stettin conference worked on damage control, the first contact team worked on. While the images themselves were mostly of interest to sociologists and xenologists, they were still invaluable for one simple reason: most of the files contained some form of attached metadata. By comparing this with what the team already knew about the aliens they were able to make inroads into decrypting their language.

It would be almost a year and a half of hard work, but by early July of 2109 the first contact team had a workable model of the alien language. It was basic, comparable in vocabulary to a ten-year-old, but deemed sufficient to attempt contact. The KWO thus approached the German government for advice on how to address the aliens. While a majority of the Stettin conference wanted to present a united humanity to the aliens, this idea was quickly shot down when the conference’s Canadian delegation reported back home. The Canadian government was less than enthused at the idea of Germany effectively representing them and they found a lot of support. Furious negotiations followed between the great powers.

In the end it was decided that Germany would contact the aliens on behalf of humanity. If and when contact was established, they would then introduce the other nations of the world so that they could establish their own diplomatic relations. This set off another brief round of negotiations regarding the order of introductions. In the end, the Chancellery cut through the debate when they published an ordered list and told everyone that anyone who disagreed would go to the end of the list[4]. Given that the great powers were at the top of the list, most arguments were mollified. At least for the time being.

With the diplomatic details settled, the KWO went ahead with the plan. Unlike humanity, the aliens appeared to communicate between systems using fast messenger boats. These ships would regularly travel to and from the Eissam system. The plan was to wait for one of these ships to begin its journey out of the system, then transmit the message to them. This would hopefully get the message promptly relayed to whatever authority led the aliens.

The plan was executed on the 29th of July, 2109. The message was transmitted to one of the alien messenger boats and optimism was high when 30 minutes later the ship accelerated significantly. The ship left the system, and so the waiting game began.

The answer came on the 9th of August. A single ship of a hitherto unknown design entered the Eissam system. The ship, carrying obvious weapons, immediately broadcast a message to the buoy. Back in Stettin, there was tremendous excitement as news of the alien reply spread. When it was translated, it shook everyone.

To the German government, and the people of Earth.

We, the Lavis Republic, do not recognise your right to exist.
Your worlds will burn and your bodies shall fertilise the soil.
Any ship entering our systems will be considered hostile.

We are ready for you.

​

[1] The Alpha Aliens were the theoretical aliens present on Alpha Centauri IV. The extinct Irassians had avoided a similar designation due to the surprising ease of decrypting their language.

[2] Early communication buoys would usually run in the millions of mark. In addition came the price of getting them into position, which required a ship to deliver them. While advances in technology would reduce the unit cost, the network remained vulnerable and expensive to maintain for much of humanity’s early interstellar period.

[3] Officially this was to avoid poisoning relations with the aliens if and when they made first contact, but later historians have suggested it was due to fear of causing an embarrassment for the government and a potential loss of funding for the KWO.

[4] This proved an especially potent threat, as the last nation on the list was the hermit kingdom of Japan.

---

I hope you enjoy the last update of 2021. The next update will probably take a bit longer, as I need to play some more, and the laptop I'm writing this on struggles to run visual novels. So I guess I'm leaving it on a cliffhanger.

Also, I populated the galaxy with a few custom empires that were more 'lore friendly', the Lavis Republic being one of them. For some reason they always seem to spawn next to me.

Happy new year everyone.

 

[Side]

Interlude: The Press Conference
​

August 2109 - Atlanta, Georgia - United American Republic

Jordan was on his way home. He had been playing football with Elijah and the others, but then Elijah’s mom had shown up and practically dragged him into the car. It was Elijah’s ball, so that was it for their game.

There had been something wrong with her. Her eyes had been haunted, nothing like the times that Jordan had visited. Those times she’d made food for him and the other boys. This time she told them all to get home immediately.

She wasn’t the only adult acting weird. The streets were unusually deserted, and those out were talking in hushed voices or looking at their slates. Several strangers had told Jordan to go home as well.

Maybe there had been another terrorist attack. They happened ever so often. One time, while out shopping, a group of people attacked a government building. Jordan had thought it was pretty exciting until he’d looked at his dad’s face. They’d hidden in a store back room until the shooting stopped. His dad had held him uncomfortably tight through all of it.

It was times like these he really wished he had a slate of his own. Then he could at least check. Mom said he could get one when he got older, but that was an obvious lie. The real reason was simple: they couldn’t afford one. He didn’t mind, but he wished they could be honest with him.

He found the apartment building where he lived and walked up to the third floor. Even the drunks and gang members who were usually there were gone. That was a bit strange.

“I’m home,” he said as he closed the door. There wasn’t a response. From the living room came the sounds of people talking on the TV. He stepped inside and found his mother huddled up on the sofa while his father held her. Both of them were staring intently at the screen.

It was a press conference, and he recognised one of the men present, von Roon, the head of the German space program. And he’d seen the guy sitting next to him before. He was the president of Germany or something. They often had press conferences where they would announce new discoveries or achievements. But this looked wrong. They usually looked very happy and proud. Now they were serious. And there were people in military uniforms sitting next to them.

One of the journalists said something and the automatic translator activated a second later. “Are we sure the message is addressed to humanity as a whole?”
“There has been no indication that the aliens differentiate between nations,” the president of Germany said. “When we contacted them, we made it clear that we represented only one of several governments. It does not seem to matter to them.”

“Are we sure this isn’t some sort of misunderstanding?” another journalist asked.
“We’ve made several more attempts at contacting them,” von Roon said. “Most of them were left unanswered. Those times that we did get an answer, they were very explicit threats. Most of them mentioned firebombing Earth.”

“What measures are being taken?”
“We have already begun implementing several contingency plans,” one of the men in uniform said. “We are obviously not going to go into detail about them here. We have also contacted our allies about this.”
“What about China, Russia and Canada? Do they know?”
“They know,” the president said.
“What do they say?”
“You’ll have to ask them.”

Jordan sat down on the sofa, and his mother reached out and pulled him close. Normally it would be uncomfortably tight, but right now it was comforting. He didn’t understand what the people on TV were talking about, but their serious demeanour told him more than any words ever could.

“Was it a mistake to contact the aliens?” The room grew quiet at the journalist’s question.
Von Roon gave the president a quick glance before staring down the journalist.
“No further questions.”

“I want to be clear on one thing,” the president said. “We are facing an existential threat. The nature of space combat means that anyone who holds orbital supremacy for long enough can sterilise a planet with very little effort. Only the Alpha Centauri system stands between the aliens and Earth. Plans are in motion, but we have precious little margin for error. That will be all.”

The image shifted from the press conference to a newscaster. He was saying something about domestic politicians’ reactions, but Jordan didn’t listen. He turned around and looked at his parents. They both looked back at him. Both had the expression his dad had back in the store that day.

“Are the aliens angry with us?”

---

Just a little interlude I couldn't fit elsewhere. It also neatly ends the first "arc".

The next proper chapter should hopefully be ready soon.

 

[Side]

Lines on a Map​

October 2110 - Kaiser Wilhelm II Shipyards

A Heligoland class defensive gun platform. In time large networks of these stations would protect human systems. Possessing both massive railguns and laser batteries, these stations would, in theory, outgun any hostile craft that came near it.
​

Foreign Minister David Bennet Kennedy was quietly fuming as the docking clamps attached to the shuttle. He hated space travel. Consequently, he avoided it as much as possible. So far that hadn’t been a problem. Despite the colossal stride humanity had accomplished in the last decade, there still wasn’t much need for people like him to leave the gravity well.

But when he had demanded a meeting with his German counterpart, Foreign Minister Schumacher, she had insisted on meeting at the Whilhelm Shipyards. When David’s secretary had asked why, he’d been told that ‘given the subject’, meeting there would be required.

The docking tube finished attaching, and David made his way onto the station proper. That was slightly better, the spin gravity doing wonder for calming his stomach. It still felt wrong though. It was just a third of what he was used to, and the way the floor curved upwards never stopped being strange.

A young man stood waiting at the end of the docking tube, flanked by two guards. Schumacher wasn’t there. Grumbling internally, he walked over.

“Good afternoon, Minister Kennedy,” the man said. “I am Philip Herzberg, assistant to Minister Schumacher. I was asked to take you to her.”
“She couldn’t be bothered to meet me herself?”
“She is currently discussing some matters with a representative of a foreign… government. But she will be ready to see you as soon as we arrive.”

That struck David as odd, both Herzberg’s hesitation and the general vagueness. As far as he knew, no other foreign dignitaries were on the station. He nodded at the assistant. “Lead the way.”

As they walked through the gently sloping corridors, Herzberg decided that this was the moment for small talk.
“I trust the journey from Ottawa went well?”
“No. I vomited twice. Once during the flip for our retro burn, and once on final approach to the station. I suspect I will hurl twice more before I’m back on terra firma.”
“That is unfortunate to hear. I’m sure you’ll get used to it in time.”

I hope I don’t have to, David mused.

They reached the door to a conference room, and Herzberg opened it. Inside was probably the sparsest conference room David had ever seen. A simple fibreglass and aluminium table stood in the middle, with similar chairs lining it. He noted the chairs were bolted to the floor.

At the far end of the room stood Minister Schumacher. She walked over and shook David’s hand as soon as he stepped inside.
“David, a pleasure to see you again.”
David had to suppress an urge to roll his eyes. He knew Schumacher loathed him. But there were courtesies to observe.
“Likewise. It’s been far too long.”
“Have a seat, and we’ll get down to business immediately.”

“Happily,” he said as he sat down. The fact that the chairs were bolted to the floor bothered him more than it should. “It has come to our attention that you’ve been shipping large amounts of electromagnets off-world. My government is… interested… in what you plan to use these electromagnets for.”
“Oh, it’s simple really. We’re fortifying the Alpha Centauri system with railguns and other weapon systems.”

“Uhh…” David was taken aback by how easily she admitted it. “You realise this is a clear violation of the Space Militarisation Agreement? Why ignore an agreement that has been in effect for half a century?”
Schumacher leaned forward across the table, looking him in the eyes, her smile gone. The Canadian diplomatic service had a nickname for the expression: bitch mode.

“David, I don’t know if you have noticed, but we got a bunch of aliens on our border who wants to firebomb us out of existence. Don’t you think we should do something about that?”
“The ‘Lavis Republic’? The alien civilisation who curiously won’t respond when we try to talk to them? Give me a break.”
“I know you don’t believe us.”
“I believe it’s very convenient for you. Big scary aliens who you can protect us from. Now you get to upgrade from Weltpolizei to Weltraumpolizei.”
“I don’t blame you. The Russians and the Chinese were doubtful at first as well. No reason you shouldn’t be. Philip, could you get our guest?”

The assistant got up without a word and left the room, leaving David alone with Schumacher.
“The Chinese and the Russians know?” David asked.
“Do you think we produce enough electromagnets on our own? We had to ask the Chinese and trust me, that took some convincing. Only reason you know about them is due to them telling your man in Stockholm.”

David felt queasy again. This time it wasn’t the low gravity. He was being played for a fool, and they both knew it. God, how he hated this woman.

He was about to retort when the door opened and Herzberg returned. Following was a man wearing a spacesuit. Except something was wrong. At first, he thought the man was abnormally tall, but as he looked closer he realised the proportions were all off. His arms and legs were too long, but the knees were way too high. The figure stepped closer, and he got a clear view through the faceplate.

At first, it looked like a face, but only just. There was a mouth, but the nose was missing. Instead, there were a handful of slits in the face. And there was space for eyes, but he couldn’t see them. And to complete the ensemble, the skin was a deep purple.

If the chairs hadn’t been bolted to the floor, David would have knocked it over in an attempt to get away. Instead he flailed around in the chair, but remained otherwise in place.
“David, allow me to introduce you to Yyaal tal Forges of the Curator Order. Yyall, this is David Bennet Kennedy, Foreign Minister of Canada.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” a somewhat garbled speaker fixed to the suit said. “And I do apologise for startling you. Anna enjoys surprising people.”

David didn’t know what was more surprising: the alien, or the fact that it was on a first-name basis with Schumacher.
“David here is doubting that the Lavis Republic has hostile intentions.”
“Ahh, yes. I understand that it is had to comprehend. Indeed, the Lilarobius weren’t always like that. Back in their heyday, they were a peaceful and loving people. Until the last great cycle of extinction.”

“Wait, what?” David said once had managed to collect himself. Mostly. “Cycle of extinction?”
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that the galaxy is a bit of a graveyard. There is a reason for that. Every few millennia, there is a great dying. Sometimes it’s intentional, sometimes it’s accidental. The details vary. The effect is the same. My order was founded to break the cycle. As you may have surmised, we’ve had limited success.”

Schumacher looked to David with a smile. “Just when you thought we were out of the woods of the Fermi Paradox.”

The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

* * *
​

Humanity’s reaction to finding sentient, extant and hostile alien life was one of disbelief. Some couldn’t believe that a civilisation capable of space travel could harness such malice against a people they had never met before. Others simply didn’t believe the Germans.

Either way, Millaray Lemun Quezada words at the Stettin conference now seemed eerily prophetic.

The Lilarobius - Human border. The fact that Only Alpha Centauri stood between Lavis Republic space and Earth was a problem for the Raumstreitkräfte, who would have preferred more defence in depth. As it stood, they would have precious little room to manoeuvre.
​

Markets were in flux around the world as analysts tried to make sense of the situation. Several off-world mining companies, as well as the companies involved in the now underway Sirius III expedition, suffered catastrophic losses at the Berlin stock exchange as uncertainty about the long term viability of the projects crept in. But not everyone suffered losses: all around the world, defence contractors saw their stock tick steadily upwards.

The first concrete government reaction came less than a month after the now infamous press conference. After a series of closed-door meetings in the Reichstag, it was decided that the Alpha Centauri starbase, until now a minor traffic control and communications hub, was to be reinforced and armed. While this was seen as a violation of the Space Militarisation Agreement in some circles, the German government had cleared it through back channels with Russia and China. This allowed the project to go ahead on a technicality[1].

The German government also approved (though not publicly) the Raumstreitkräfte to begin clandestine information gathering against the Lavis Republic. Their efforts were slow, as the navy was limited to SIGINT, at least for the time being.

Information gathering exploited the numerous holes in Lavis network security. These were the same security flaws that the first contact team had proposed using to get more data.
​

Further intelligence was acquired when communication was established with the ‘Gamma Aliens’ in the Briscoll system, otherwise known as the Curator Order. This was an organisation created millennia ago to promote wise and responsible use of technology in an effort to prevent future mass extinctions.

The Curator Order provided human researchers with many recorded solutions to the Fermi Paradox. Several of them felt eerily familiar.
​

The Curator order was familiar with the Lavis Republic, or the Lilarobius, as the species was known. The lilarobius had been one of the great powers of the last cycle. A bastion of peace and democracy[2], it had guarded the galaxy against threats. However, in taking this position, they had created enemies. One of these enemies had covertly arranged for a ‘misunderstanding’ between the lilarobius and another species. This had escalated into a full-blown conflict that saw countless worlds across the galaxy burn. By the end of it, the lilarobius had been driven back to their final sanctuary in the Lav system. There they had made a final stand and survived, if only just.

As the galaxy slid into another dark age, the lilarobius would lose much of their advanced technology, struggling once more to simply maintain their numbers. And as the centuries turned into millennia, history turned into myth. But the lilarobius would never forget how close they came to extinction.

While this was of great interest to researchers and historians, it mattered little to the wheels of industry.

On the 10th of September of 2110, SMR Komet deployed its first shuttle to the surface of Sirius III. The expedition had already been underway when contact was made with the Lavis Republic. While some (mostly non-German) politicians had suggested that the expedition be halted or delayed to avoid provoking the lilarobius, this was not heeded and rendered moot when the work fortifying Alpha Centauri began.

Unlike Neu Brandenburg, the KWO had seen fit to designate a proper name to the fledgling colony: Viridian. While this was used in official dispatches back to Earth, most of those on the planet weren’t enthused by the name. Inspired by their counterparts on Neu Brandenburg, they soon decided on their own name: Grossbayern[3]. In time this name would become the de facto official name, with the ‘true’ name of the colony relegated to a bit of trivia.

Once on the ground, work immediately started on the dome farms that would dot the planet. In time these would be largely automated, but early on they required a great deal of human labour. The work was slow but it was yielding results. While Grossbayern would mostly be feeding itself at first, projections estimated that by 2130 at least 15% of the food consumed on Earth would be produced off-world.

The challenges of growing crops on an alien world led to several new technological breakthroughs. Several of these could also be utilised back on Earth.
​

In many ways, it was an uncertain time for Germany and humanity as a whole. While the threat of the Lavis Republic was a clear and present danger, it was one that humanity could defend against. However, not everyone agreed that this was the right posture. Some though Germany should take a more active role in defending humanity. And some, much to Chancellor von Kleist’s consternation, were in very high positions.

​

[1] - The text of the agreement limited Germany to ‘three spaceborne warships’. As the installation in Alpha Centauri had no propulsion of its own, it was thus not considered a ship. Every political analyst at the time, and every historian since, found this interpretation of the agreement laughably convenient.

[2] - Notably, the Lavis Republic was according to the Curator Order still governed according to democratic principles. Or at least, principles that could be compared to humanity’s understanding of democracy.

[3] - It is unclear as to why the colony was named after Bayern. Unlike the Alpha Centauri expedition, there wasn’t a clear connection, with only a handful of expedition members hailing from the region. The most popular hypothesis is that it was named in honour of FC Bayern, who had won the Reichsliga that season.

 

[Side]

A Change in Course
​

April 2111 - Bernhard Walther - In orbit around gas giant Ditrim I

Ditrim I, a seemingly ordinary, and unremarkable, gas giant.
​

Captain Henriette Holmlund pulled herself down the elevator shaft of the Bernhard Walther. She made sure not to pull so hard she’d fling herself face-first into the bottom of the shaft. She’d been taught not to do that while still a cadet. Some of the non-military crew members had learnt that lesson the hard way.

She found the opening to the mess deck and pulled herself in. The coffee maker had broken again, and despite being aboard a ship filled with some of Earth’s brightest minds, only she and Petty Officer Fleischer knew how to fix it. Seeing as Fleischer was taking a well-earned rest after repairing the number four RCS thrusters and there was no ongoing reactor meltdown (the only thing taking priority over a broken coffee maker), she was the one who had to get it working again.

She floated over to the broken machine and activated the self-diagnostics system. After a few minutes of watching a wheel spin on the display, it gave her an error code: CRS1000459X. She’d bookmarked the error codes on her slate. A quick reference told her that someone had forgotten to replace the filter. Again.

Grumbling to herself, she set about fixing the machine.

She was trying to remove the used coffee grounds from inside the machine when she heard the arguing voices. She took a deep breath.
Dammit… Not now.

“All I’m saying is that he shouldn’t go around expressing his opinion like that,” Doctor Richter said as he entered the mess deck.
“We’re not England. The Kaiser is allowed to have an opinion on politics.” Sergeant Falck followed him in. “And it’s not like he was expressing his opinion publicly. He was talking to his friends. It’s not his fault there was a directional microphone pointed at him at just that moment.”

Falck noticed Henriette working on the coffee maker and saluted her.
“Captain.”
She returned the salute. “Just keeping the life support system running.”

Richter either didn’t notice her, or didn’t care. Both were just as likely.
“That may be so, but still… Supporting a group like that? He must have doubled their membership overnight.”
“I don’t see what so horrible about the First Strike Legion. Sure, they want to build more warships, but it’s not like they don’t have a good reason for it.”
“For the cost of one ship we could have another Heligoland platform with twice the firepower.”
“And none of the mobility. Don’t get me wrong, the Heligolands are worth every mark, but they can’t take the fight to the enemy.”

Richter grew silent. Typically that meant his opponent had made a very good point, and he didn’t know how to respond, or he thought his opponent had made a very dumb point. Henriette still had her face buried inside the coffee maker, so she couldn’t judge from his expression.

She closed the machine and ran a test. The machine purred once again. Progress.
“Is it really necessary to ‘take the fight to the enemy?” Richter said. “As long as we are safe, isn’t that enough?”
Falck chuckled. “Sure, that’s a viable long term strategy. I’m sure that would have worked great against the Commune, or the Americans, or the Australians.”
“Australia was a disaster.”
“It sure was, but it would have been worse if we just maintained the blockade.”

The coffee maker’s test program finished with a ping. That brought both of their attention onto Henriette.

“What do you think, Captain?” Richter asked. Behind him, Falck’s eyes went wide in horror.
With one hand she activated one of the presets on the coffee maker. It whirred into action.
“You know, Doctor, in the Navy we have this informal policy. Discussions of ‘politics, religion and sex’ should not be held in the wardroom. I’ve been thinking a lot about that policy lately, and its obvious wisdom.”

Richter stared at her in bug-eyed confusion. Meanwhile, Falck was busy dying of second-hand embarrassment. Fortunately for everyone involved, Doctor Julia Heinemann came to the rescue over the radio.
“Um, Captain?”
“Captain Holmlund here. What is it, Doctor?”
“You know that weird weather phenomenon I wanted to study?”
“I sure do.” She didn’t add that it was the only reason they were still in orbit around the gas giant.
“I… Um… This is going to sound weird, but…”

That caught Henriette off guard. The meteorologist wasn’t typically unsure of herself.

“I… I think the weather is trying to talk to me…”
Henriette grabbed the finished bottle of coffee and took a sip as she tried to process what she’d just heard.

“Huh…”

* * *
​

In late February of 2111, an audio recording of Kaiser Friedrich was leaked to the press. The recording, taken secretly during a get-together with the Kaiser’s personal friends, had him expressing support for the First Strike Legion, a new and growing political faction in the Reich.

The revelation was a bombshell in the German political sphere. While there was no direct law prohibiting the Kaiser from engaging in politics, it had been common practice to avoid direct political commentary since the signing of the 1968 constitution.

But more important was who he was expressing support for. The First Strike Legion was not a political party per se. Instead, it was an interest group campaigning for a more direct response to the Lavis Republic. While their critics would label them jingoists, they had little in common with the militarists German politics were used to. The most significant departure was their focus on international cooperation. The Legion did not just support working with other Europäischer Wirtschaftsbund states or the Central African Federation, but also established bonds with similar organisations in Russia, China, Canada and New England. They argued that the lilarobius would not differentiate between the various nations, so humanity would have to meet them as one.

A Legion protest in Ontario. While the protests rarely turned violent, the heated atmosphere at them invariably led to heavy police presence.
​

The Legion found support across party lines. Chancellor von Kleist even found members of his own SPD arguing in favour of enlarging the fleet. With the 2112 elections approaching, this was bad news for von Kleist as he already faced stiff opposition from a coalition headed by Anika Ribbentrop and her Deutschkonservative Partei, supported by the Deutsche Reichspartei and the right-leaning parts of Zentrum.

Von Kleist found his position further undermined when the Bernhard Walther made a startling discovery later that year. While investigating strange weather patterns found on a gas giant in the Ditrim system, they were surprised to find the weather talking back. Using techniques pioneered during first contact with the Curator Order, the crew was able to establish basic contact with the Dathnak, a species of sentient gasses.

The dathnak were humanity’s first encounter with some of the stranger forms of life in the galaxy. They would not be the last. Ongoing contact with them would greatly help in humanity’s study of life, sapience and consciousness.
​

While the discovery was received with ecstatic disbelief by the scientific community, who now had an entirely new form of life to study, the political and public reaction was less enthusiastic. The dathnak were in dire straits and needed humanity’s help. The reason given was that sometime in the past few millennia, an unknown alien race had made contact with them. While first contact had been relatively friendly, the dathnak had at some point offended some religious sensibility. The response had been a nuclear armageddon which had killed most of their species. The few that survived had done so by retreating deeper into the gas giant. However, the radiation from the nuclear strikes was slowly penetrating deeper and without help the dathnak’s days were numbered.

It didn’t take long for the KWO to receive permission to aid the dathnak, and soon an alternative homeworld was located[1]. The plans proceeded smoothly, and diplomatic relations were established, though, given the dathnak’s non-corporeal nature, there was minimal interaction beyond the exchange of ideas and knowledge.

The dathnak were more influential as a symbol. Anika Ribbentrop seized the story of their near extinction and asked if humanity were to suffer the same fate, would a saviour appear at the last minute. She then argued for casting aside the Space Militarisation Agreement and undertaking an expansion to the Raumstreitkräfte. She would not only replace the now fifty year old Agatha Dorn warships with modern designs, but also expand the fleet to six ships. In a series of debates, she expertly played into the fears of the German populace, portraying von Kleist as timid and unwilling to make sacrifices to safeguard humanity[2].

It worked. In the January 2112 election, Anika Ribbentrop and her coalition won 59.7% of the Reichstag seats, earning her the right to petition the Kaiser to form a new government. The win was not unexpected. In fact, it was somewhat lesser than expected. This was due to the unexpected success of the Europäische Einheitspartei, a party that only occasionally won a seat and was generally considered a fringe party. In the 2112 election, they had won seven seats. Their leader, Adrian Vetter, had campaigned on a policy of offence instead of defence, arguing that Germany should create a great battlefleet and invade the Lavis Republic. A firm believer in German technical superiority (seemingly based only on his four-year service as a gunner in the Panzerwaffe), he dismissed any risk that could come from open conflict.

Anika Ribbentrop was pronounced as the new German Chancellor on the 14th of February, 2112. She immediately went to work. Just four days later the Ministry of Defence announced Germany’s intention to withdraw from the Space Militarisation Agreement. Two days after that, a bill was proposed in the Reichstag to build six new Edelweiss class gunships.

The new Edelweiss’ were in terms of defence and firepower a slight upgrade compared to the previous Agatha Dorns. Their chief improvement was the inclusion of the Perrin-Engberg drive from the start, unlike their predecessors which had been retrofitted to allow for hyperlane travel. This improvement led to better compartmentalisation in the event of damage.
​

The international response to this was remarkably muted, with Canada making some vague complaints about Germany upsetting the international order. Russia and China made no official comment, but did announce later that year that they were beginning a joint construction of a new orbital shipyard. While officially meant for the construction of civilian ships for the increasingly lucrative interstellar trade and mining, the military potential was clear.

The Russo-Chinese shipyard Gorizont/Dìpíngxiàn (Горизонт/地平线) following its completion. While only possessing three slipways, compared to the Kaiser Wilhelm II Shipyards’ five, the slipways were almost twice as large. This gave the shipyards a massive advantage when constructing bulk transport, which formed the majority of the yards’ business.
​

In fact, the greatest protests came from an unexpected source. When asked what would happen to the Agatha Dorns once the Edelweiss’ were in service, Chancellor Ribbentrop answered that they would be sold for scrap. This set off howls of protests from Latin America. Forty years after ‘El Error’, the people of the South American Reconstruction Mandate still suffered from the after-effects of nuclear war. The idea that the Erich Burchwald, a ship that had saved millions, would end up on a scrap yard struck them as a great injustice. Several petitions were forwarded to the German government to preserve the ship and a fundraiser began in the hopes of buying the ship. Not wishing the poor PR of taking money from some of the poorest people on Earth, Chancellor Ribbentrop announced that Germany would indeed preserve the Erich Burchwald as a museum ship[3].

In many ways, the 2112 election marked the end of the optimism of the 2110s. The following years would see an increase in suspicion and anxiety, both among the Great Powers, but also their citizens. Germany had struck out into the great unknown, dragging the rest of humanity along. In doing so, Germany had found its greatest threat since the Second French Commune. But this time it wasn’t just the Hohenzollern dynasty that risked extinction.


[1] Ironically, the new homeworld was in the Alpha Centauri system. The dathnak were informed about the political situation with the Lavis Republic, but seeing as the choice was between certain death and potential death, the choice was simple. In time the dathnak would establish a second colony, both as a security measure and due to a population boom following the evacuation.

[2] Von Kleist and the SPD were in fact campaigning on significant increases to military spending as well. However, they were focusing on the Heligoland defensive plan, which was increasingly viewed as too passive. They were also unwilling to fund their military expenditures with cuts to basic income and services. This allowed the opposition to present far grander plans to the public.

[3] The proposed plan had the Erich Burchwald deorbit, to be placed in an exhibition connected to the Hamburg Technical Museum. However, engineers soon raised concerns that the ship would break apart upon hitting the atmosphere, as the ships had never been designed to work outside a vacuum. The Erich Burchwald was instead permanently placed into the number 3 dock at the Bismarck Transit Station.

 

[Side]

The Calm
​

May 2114 - Greater Saturnas City - Gardens of Justice

The Gardens of Justice were one of the oldest institutions in the republic, with the supposed founding predating the near destruction of the ring. Most historians regard these claims with a healthy degree of scepticism, with the oldest credible reference being Redbud the Young’s ‘Saga of the Sun and Stars’. Prior to reunification, the Gardens served as neutral arbitrators between the various states on the ring.
​

“That’s correct, Sassafras,” Willow said, making sure to keep focus on the visual recorder. “I am here at the Gardens of Justice. Today we are expecting the final verdict in the Unending Rain case. While some hope that the Justicars will overturn the High Council’s judgement of wilting, most legal scholars I’ve spoken to find this unlikely. The High Council’s charge of high treason and civilisational endangerment against the Unending Rain’s crew is considered well-founded.”

Willow stopped talking, waiting for the inevitable reply from the studio. One would have hoped that the lilarobius return to space would have helped with communication lag, but no. It was still the same awkward waiting for the signal to bounce from one side of the ring to the other and back.

“Has the crew made any new arguments since the High Council’s judgement?” Sassafras asked. It was a stupid question. One couldn’t present new arguments in an appeal to the Gardens of Justice. Sassafras knew this, of course. Sassafras wasn’t an idiot. But a lot of the viewers were.

“No. They are still maintaining the entire incident was just an attempt to prank the aliens. However, the law does not put much regard into the intent behind the action, only the consequence. It is clear that by contacting the aliens, the crew of the Unending Rain gave the human threat a bounty of data with which they used to subvert our defences.”

“What about Captain Elm’s request to have the humans speak on their behalf? Have the Gardens made any comment on this request?”

Willow struggled to maintain buoyancy, anger causing gasses to surge through the primary bladder.
“They have not made any formal reply to this request.” Because it’s absolutely insane. “I think we can all agree that the proposal is unlikely to be approved. For one, the aliens are unlikely to speak on the behalf of a Lavis citizen in the first place. Second, Captain Elm and their crew have already endangered the lilarobius enough as it is. Requesting that our species once again risk extinction just so that they have a chance to save their own leaves is preposterous.”

Behind the visual recorder, Willow’s producer, Hawthorn signalled to end the interview. With one tentacle, they motioned towards the Gardens.

“I’m afraid I have to go, Sassafras. It seems the Justicars are ready to give their verdict. I’ll be back as soon as this historic verdict has been proclaimed. This is Willow, of Central District News, signing off.”

Willow waited for Hawthorn to give the OK. As soon as it was given, Willow couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Let’s ask the humans to speak in our defence. Yeah, and why don’t we let them park their fleet in orbit around the ring while we’re at it.”
“I don’t know what they were thinking,” Hawthorn said while switching the visual recorder from capture mode to follow mode. “Worst part is that some take them seriously. They say we should reach out to the humans, find common ground.”
“Traitors.”
Hawthorn laughed. “Yeah. Why don’t we go watch some traitors get sentenced?”

The main assembly room of the Gardens of Justice was packed. People from all across the ring had come to watch the historic judgement. In the centre of the room were the Unending Rain’s crew, all chained to the bar. They showed a variety of emotions, ranging from attempts a stoicism, obvious fear or fidgeting nervousness. Several had a thousand-yard stare.

But not Captain Elm. The Captain looked hopeful, infuriating Willow.

“All anchor!” the Garden clerk bellowed. The assembly room grew quiet as the three High Justicars floated into the room from their chambers. As they anchored to the Justicars’ bar, Chief High Justicar Maple addressed the crowd.

“The Justicars of the Gardens are now ready to proclaim the verdict in the case of the High Council versus the crew of the Unending Rain.” The Chief High Justicar looked around the room, making sure everyone was paying attention.

“After long deliberation, the Gardens of Justice finds the High Council’s sentence well-argued and just. As such, the Gardens will not overturn the sentence of wilting.”

The assembly exploded into a cacophony of cheering and angry shouts. But one long wail cut through it all. An older pair were screaming, not out of anger, but despair. Willow recognised them. They were Petty Officer Cedar’s parents. Cedar had been opposed to the ‘prank’, but as the newest crewmember aboard the Unending Rain, they hadn’t been able to stop it. Their parents had been campaigning for leniency. Their campaign had failed.

Willow looked to the centre of the room. Captain Elm looked like someone had set fire to their children, but right now Willow didn’t care about the Captain. At the far end of the bar was Petty Officer Cedar, looking towards the High Justicars with grim determination.

For the first time, one of the accused impressed Willow.

* * *
​

Even as the German political establishment was thrown into turmoil, the various expedition crews made new discoveries. While drowned by political debates and the discovery of the dathnak, the Andreas Stöberl finally finished their excavation of Alpha Centauri IV.

By the time the expedition discovered the fate of the Alpha Aliens, humanity was getting eerily familiar with how common civilisational extinction was.
​

For months the expedition crew had been digging deeper, clearing collapsed tunnels and finding the frozen corpses of aliens. Early on, it had been hoped to find some sort of shelter where the surviving Alpha Aliens could be evacuated from. But as the expedition went deeper, it became clear that such a shelter did not exist. In mid 2111, the body of the last Alpha Alien was found in a rough tunnel, all alone.

A more uplifting discovery was when the Johannes von Gmunden, in late 2113, entered the Pithria system, located at the far end of what would later be dubbed the ‘Pithria pocket’. The crew reported back that the system contained two worlds that appeared to be able to sustain life. The first surveyed, Pithria V, was a cold and fairly barren world, covered in wast stretches of tundra. With the harsh climate and sparse resources, the world was placed low on the agendas of policymakers.

The more substantial discovery was made on Pithria IV, a highly tectonically active world, resulting in massive mountain ranges. However, the main feature of Pithria IV was not the mountains, but the sentient beings living there.

The Cormanthani, as they would later be known, had a technology level around the level of the late bronze age. In a remarkable difference from human cultures of the era, religion didn’t appear to play any significant affair in either state or personal life. Most Cormanthani had an entirely secular worldview.
​

This set the wheels in motion for what was named the ‘Pithria debates’. Social scientists were eager to study the cormanthani and their society. However, views were sharply divided on how such a study should be conducted. Some, ironically dubbed the ‘humanists’, were in favour of long-range, passive studies of the cormanthani. They argued that humanity should not disturb and contaminate a civilisation just to satisfy their own curiosity. This was in stark contrast to the ‘interventionists’, who argued that landing teams on the planet would yield significant scientific results with minimal adverse effects.

A third group, sometimes called the ‘civilisers’, or more derisively the ‘white man’s burden 2.0’, argued that humanity should land crews on the planet and ‘uplift’ the cormanthani. While some of these proponents had good intentions, many of them were found to have close ties to various wind energy companies[1]. The civilisers were widely condemned by people representing various colonised groups, including Millaray Lemun Quezada.

Regardless of which group won out, any such expedition would run into the issue of logistics. Unlike Alpha Centauri and Sirius, the Pithria system was much further away. The logistical infrastructure needed to supply would be significant.

While the Pithria system would appear close on maps, the layout of the hyperlanes, forming a pocket, meant any journey to the system would require five jumps. For comparison, Grossbayern, humanity’s furthest colony, only required two jumps.
​

The Pithria debates ended as quickly as they began, when only two months later the Bernhard Walther entered the Kappler system. It made two significant discoveries.

The first was Kappler VI, a world covered in the remains of an extinct civilisation. At this point, finding extinct civilisations was almost considered passé. However, there was still interest in discovering the exact cause.

The second discovery was Kappler IIIa, a life-bearing moon similar to Earth in orbit around a toxic world. While small, the fact that it was far more agreeable to humans, not to mention free of sentient native life, made it a much more appealing world than anything in the Pithria system. And while it appeared farther away, effective travel time would be about the same.

All of this made the Kappler system much more appealing, but it was enhanced when the Bernhard Walther made a closer survey of the moon. The world was remarkably unstable tectonically, causing frequent earthquakes. But it wasn’t always an earthquake that shook the ground. Kappler IIIa was also home to colossal lifeforms, rivalling buildings in size.

A painting of Kapplerius praegrandis belua roaming the surface of Kappler IIIa, done by expedition member Dr. Hyland (self-portrayed in the foreground). While designated ‘Titanic Lifeforms’ in scientific circles, the public quickly dubbed them Kaiju, in reference to the film Mighty Kaiju Deimos[2].
​

The KWO was soon given instructions to start laying the logistical groundwork for an expedition to the Kappler system. While this left those who wanted to study the cormanthani disappointed, especially the humanists, it was politically far more expedient. The cormanthani would remain undisturbed for now, and policymakers kicked the issue of what to do with them a few years down the line.

This led into a few years of quiet, as the KWO worked on establishing reliable transport links further afield. Politically, German intelligence intercepted several attempts by the Lavis Republic to sour relations between Germany and the other Great Powers. While these attempts were unlikely to have ever succeeded due to their amateurish nature, they did provide Chancellor Ribbentrop with a significant boon in the 2117 elections.

Chancellor Ribbentrop was accused of using the Lavis intrusion for political gain. In the 2117 election, she maintained a solid, if slightly smaller, majority.
​

Chancellor Ribbentrop used her reelection to secure funding for another three Edelweiss corvettes, bringing the total up to nine. But the Raumstreitkräfte was about to gain a significant boost from an unexpected source.

During a routine scan of a gas giant in the Nordak system, the crew of the Andreas Stöberl discovered a large abandoned ship hidden deep in the atmosphere. After receiving permission from the KWO to investigate it, the crew sent down a shuttle to dock with the ship. What they found was an ancient warship in remarkably good condition. After assessing the state of its engines and hull, it was decided to attempt salvaging the ship.

The operation was an astounding success. The salvaged cruiser possessed weapons far in advance of anything humanity could produce. Estimates made by the Raumstreitkräfte said that the cruiser possessed almost equivalent firepower alone compared to all nine Edelweiss class corvettes.

Scientists back on Earth were eager to get their hands on the ship and discover how it worked. After some hesitancy, the Chancellery relented and allowed weapon researchers to disassemble one of the secondary weapon mounts, which they did with great relish. It was with significant embarrassment they realised that not only did they not understand how the weapon worked, but they could not get it working again.

Fearing that any further study would endanger the strategic value of the cruiser, the Chancellery transferred possession of the cruiser to the Raumstreitkräfte, who put the cruiser into service as its flagship, christening it the Friedrich der Große.

The Friedrich der Große, in service as the German flagship. While those that served aboard it found the ship perfectly fine, the interior was noted as being eerily oversized. One crew member noted that “it is as if every door and access hatch is meant for someone two heads taller than you”.
​

While the addition of the Friedrich der Große was celebrated in Germany, it set off alarm bells abroad. Germany had already possessed a significant lead in the naval game. Now it was charging ahead. Russia, China and the Nordic Union would begin their own naval program, ordering a total of six ships comparable to the German Edelweisses. Canada, lacking orbital shipyards of her own, was forced to approach private yards. They would order two corvettes, with their allies in New England ordering a third.

But even as a new type of naval arms race began among the Great Powers, the high halls of the Chancellery and the Raumstreitkräfte were unconcerned. In fact, they welcomed it. Naval intelligence had delivered troubling reports. The Lavis Republic were also building warships, and while firm numbers were hard to come by, most analysts put them far ahead of humanity.

Whatever the lilarobius were planning, it was approaching fast.



[1] Due to the sheer mountains and strong winds found on Pithria IV, the planet had significant potential for energy generation. Several companies, taking inspiration from the Sirius Off-World Agricultural Development Consortium, were covertly pushing for energy rights on the planet.

[2] Mighty Kaiju Deimos was a Korean film released in 1954, spawning a long-running film franchise. In the original film, a massive creature from across the sea invades Korea, causing massive destruction. Only through the combined efforts of several nations is the creature driven back into the sea.

 

[Side]

The Storm​

June 2123 - Beijing - Minister of Foreign Affairs’ office.

Beijing in the morning smog. As arguably the most important city in all of Asia, the city attracted people from around the world. The mix of influences created an atmosphere not found anywhere else on the planet.
​

Tao Ren’s head was pounding. The previous night was a bit of a blur. Last night’s festivities had involved the Russian delegation. And to make matters worse, they had brought along some Finns. Tao couldn’t quite remember, but, judging from the headache, he’d tried to match them drink for drink. A bad idea most of times. A terrible one when the Finns were involved.

He slumped down in his chair in his still dark office and rummaged around in a drawer for the painkillers he knew were there somewhere. After finally finding one and popping it into his mouth like it was candy, he reached for the intercom.

“Zhen, how is my calendar looking today?”
“Good morning, Minister,” Zhen said, far too chipper for Tao’s liking. “You have a meeting with the German ambassador in an hour, then a meeting with the representatives of the Nordic Salmon Union at noon, and then a--”
“Reschedule the salmon guys. Do you think we can do the same to Roth?”
“She was pretty adamant about seeing you. You know how those Teutonic types get.”
“Fine, I’ll see her.” Tao swallowed another painkiller.

A quick shower later, and Tao Ren was looking halfway presentable. Just in time for Ambassador Lisbeth Roth to enter his office. She marched over to his desk in a way that would make any drill sergeant proud. As far as he knew, Roth had never served in the military. Did the Germans drill their diplomatic personnel as well? He wouldn’t put it past them.

“Minister Ren, a pleasure to see you,” Roth said, her voice actually sounding like she meant it. Her eyes, however, did not. “I’m glad you could see me on such short notice.”
“Of course. My door is always open to you.” Even if I wish it weren’t. “Please, have a seat. What brings you here today.”

She sat down and reached into her bag, pulling out a manilla folder. So she was being dramatic today… Nobody printed anything unless they wanted to make a point. Forwarding an email just didn’t have the same punch.

“My government learned of an… interesting… project.” She put the folder on his desk. The front had conveniently the name written in both Chinese and German. The German name was even written in fraktur. Very dramatic.

“Ahh… Project Jade Rabbit,” Tao said, picking up the folder and flicking through the contents. ”We were wondering when you would learn of it. We had hoped it would be after the fleet had departed, but you don’t get everything you want in life.”
“Germany has plans for Kappler IIIa. A scientific expedition.”
“Is that what you’re calling it? If that’s so, what are those colossal excavators on Neu Brandenburg doing? A geological survey?”

Roth fumed at him. She’d clearly expected him to be apologetic, or at least evasive. Tao had long since learned that the best way to deal with bullies was to face them head-on. And that was what the German diplomatic service was, bullies with state backing.
“Minister, you know full well that following Chancellor Ribbentrop’s declaration of off-world security, that Neu Brandenburg and Grossbayern are considered--”
“Intrinsic parts of the German Reich. Yes, Ambassador Sung sent me a summary of the speech. It was very well put together. My compliments to the Chancellor’s speechwriter.”

For a moment, Roth was speechless. That didn’t happen often. It was strange what parts got to her, and what parts she just brushed off.

Tao leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him. “Lisbeth, do you really expect the rest of the world to sit idly by as you grab every habitable world you can get your hands on? Trust me, we may be the first, but you can be certain we won’t be the last. I am confident that the Canadians are just waiting to find a world that suits them. I know the Russians are. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the French are looking into it. You know how obsessed they are with empire and world domination, no matter how many times you slap them down.”

Roth was breathing rapidly. Tao wasn’t sure if it was anger or something that could be mistaken for panic. “My government has spent a lot of effort and money preparing for this expedition.”
“And my government is grateful. Project Jade Rabbit would have taken far longer without the efforts of Germany and the KWO.”

A few moments passed, the only sound being Roth’s rapid breathing. Definitely anger.
“That moon is ours.”
“Really? Germany has two whole planets, and you still want more? What are you even going to do with that moon? You don’t have the population to utilise the worlds you already have. Are we really supposed to be at fault for wanting a single moon?”
Roth’s voice had more venom than a rattlesnake. “Trust me, if your government decides to pursue this plan, there will be--”

Roth’s tirade was interrupted by an alert from her slate. Tao knew it was bad news even before he saw the red emergency notification. Any diplomat at Roth’s level suppressed all but the most essential alerts.

The second clue was Roth’s face. The fury and anger washed off her face in an instant as her eyes darted across the screen.
“I’m sorry, Minister. It seems that--”

“Minister Ren, priority message from the Ministry of Defence.” Zhen wasn’t sounding chipper anymore. If anything, the was a hint of panic in his voice.
“I’m in a meeting with the German ambassador,” Tao said, reminding Zhen of the obvious.
“I know, sir. This is a message relayed from the Germans.”

Tao looked to Roth. The colour was gone from her face and she was hyperventilating again. This time it wasn’t anger. She gave him a nod.
“Go ahead.”
“It’s the lilarobius, sir. Their fleet has weighed anchor and is underway. It’s heading for us.”

* * *
​

2119 began with a classified Raumstreitkräfte intelligence brief being leaked to the press. These documents suggested that the Lavis Republic had a fleet that far outstripped anything humanity could offer.

In truth, the Chancellery were responsible for the leaks, though this would not be revealed for years. Fearing that the left would challenge any increased military spending, which would entail cuts to basic income, Chancellor Ribbentrop ensured that a few especially paranoid news outlets got their hands on a copy of the report. After a week of ‘no comment’, Ribbentrop was confronted in the Reichstag, where she confirmed the reports.

By this point, the public was in the grips of ‘Lavis panic’, with calls to reduce the ‘corvette gap’. Expertly wielding the zeitgeist, she gained not only an increase to the military budget, but also several reforms regarding Germany’s off-world colonies.

Neu Brandenburg and Grossbayern were in a curious spot legally speaking. Neither world had a permanent population, as workers worked there for a fixed term, usually five years, before returning to Earth. As such, the territories were not formally considered a part of the Reich. Neu Brandenburg was considered a scientific expedition, no different from the ones sent to Mars in the previous century. Grossbayern was even stranger. Essentially a planet-sized company town, all infrastructure and amenities were owned and operated by the Sirius Off-World Agricultural Development Consortium.

In the eyes of the Chancellery, this would not do. Ribbentrop and her ministers would need a free hand to, as they saw it, safeguard humanity. After furious debates, Neu Brandenburg and Grossbayern were recognised as parts of the German Reich.

Work immediately began on exploiting these virgin lands. The Raumstreitkräfte were especially keen on getting their hands on various easily exploitable rare earth elements that would be vital for any fleet expansion. As such, both planets would see the establishment of large, automated mines[1]. On Neu Brandenburg, factories were also built to supply various critical spaceship components. The logic was to cut down on logistics by building replacement parts near the expected front lines.

An automated mining operation on Neu Brandenburg. While very effective in gaining access to valuable minerals and metals, these operations often did significant damage to the local environment.
​

While the German rationale was understood among the other Great Powers, it was not popular. In their eyes, Germany was now admitting what they had suspected ever since the colonisation of Grossbayern: that they were not planning to share. Already in a naval arms race, the other Great Powers looked for ways to secure their own interests.

It was China who made the first move. Following the start of the ‘Lavis panic’, Germany had been forced to refocus their efforts and resources. One of the casualties of this refocus was the planned expedition to Kappler IIIa. While the KWO had completed the groundwork, establishing automated way stations to aid in navigation and communication, the funding for the expedition had gone to the military.

The Chinese government saw an opportunity, and secretly established Project Jade Rabbit. Jade Rabbit’s goal was simple, to land a permanent settlement on Kappler IIIa (dubbed Chang'e, a name that would eventually stick, unlike their German counterparts). Jade Rabbit distinguished itself from German expeditions by explicitly being a colonial project. There would be no scientific expeditions or corporate ventures to serve as cover. The people going there would be building a new home, and given the significant travel time, most did not expect to return to Earth[2]. The plan called for colonists to be ferried using dozens of freighters, all working under the cover of expanding a Russian off-world mining operation.

While Kappler IIIa was not an ideal world compared to Neu Brandenburg or Grossbayern, with comparatively few resources and frequent earthquakes, it presented a golden opportunity to deal with China’s overpopulation and unemployment issues.
​

It is not clear how the German government learned of Jade Rabbit, but they were not pleased, with the German ambassador to China accusing the Chinese government of trying to ‘steal’ the moon. This sentiment was not shared in China or the other Great Powers. A furious debate began in diplomatic channels and it seemed another round of Great Power bickering had started.

It was in this environment that, on the 3rd of June, 2123, the High Councillor of the Lavis Republic White Pine announced to the entire ring that the time to ‘put an end to the human threat’ had arrived. Immediately following this announcement, the Ring Defence Fleet left its mooring in the Lav system, heading for Eissam, and humanity.

While the Lavis Republic never submitted any declaration of war (at the time it was unclear if the lilarobius had a tradition for such formalities), their intention was clear.
​

The Raumstreitkräfte immediately mobilised, and was soon followed by their nascent counterparts among the other Great Powers. As per established doctrine, the fleets converged at Alpha Centauri’s defence installations. There they waited. When the Ring Defence Fleet emerged from the Eissam hyperlane, it was with despair that Admiral Konstantin Fechter saw what he was up against. The Lavis had 38 corvettes, almost double that of his own. And while the Heligoland defence platforms and Friedrich der Große would hopefully even the odds, he knew he was dealing with a razor-thin margin of error.

The First Battle of Alpha Centauri. Friedrich der Große can be seen at the centre of the formation, firing green lasers.
​

The First Battle of Alpha Centauri was almost a disaster. Unlike the Lavis forces, Admiral Fechter’s command was fractured and disorganised. A significant portion of his force wasn’t actually under his command, as the Russian, Chinese, Canadian and Nordic commanders were under no obligation to follow his orders and many of them did not. So when the Lavis corvettes swarmed Friedrich der Große, he did not receive the support he needed. Under constant enemy fire, something aboard the flagship failed, setting off a chain reaction of explosions that ended in catastrophic reactor failure. The Friedrich der Große was lost with all hands, leaving nothing but a vapourised cloud of atoms.

The destruction of humanity’s flagship was a crucial shift in the battle, but in unexpected ways. It served to galvanise the human commanders into something that approximated cooperation, while the lilarobius, seemingly drunk on success, grew sloppy. Their corvettes broke away from their formations to attack whatever target of opportunity presented itself. This allowed semi-organised task forces to bear down on them and defeat them in detail. Lavis casualties were mounting.

But even this was not enough to tip the tide, and the combined human fleets were forced to pull back in a somewhat organised fashion. This left the Lavis fleet to deal with the defensive installations in the system. While the Heligoland defence platforms had been some of the first casualties of the fighting, the central bastion was not so easily destroyed. As the station didn’t have to move, it had been built with far greater armour than anything that would be practical on a ship. As such, the relatively small railguns on Lavis ships struggled to penetrate, while their lasers had layers upon layers to melt through. And while the Lavis were gradually wearing the station’s defences down, the station’s guns extracted a bloody price.

The Lavis rout began slowly. Then, as ships retreated, the remaining ships bore more of the station’s fire. This cascaded until the remaining ships had a simple choice: flee or die. Most chose the former.

The First Battle of Alpha Centauri was in many ways a Pyhrric draw. Humanity had managed to repel the invaders, but at a brutal cost. Meanwhile, the lilarobius had failed to achieve their strategic objectives while also giving humanity some breathing room they could ill afford to give. What made it worse was the logistical situation. When humanity retreated to Sol, they were in a system filled with friendly shipyards ready to repair the damaged ships. The lilarobius on the other hand had to travel all the way back to the ring, often in ships with failing life support.

Russian corvette Storozhevoy undergoing repairs following the First Battle of Alpha Centauri. While somewhat lacking in long-range firepower compared to the German Edelweisses, the Eurasian Defence Agreement’s Retivyy-class more than made up for it in volume of fire. Equipped with rapid-fire autocannons, the Retivyys would often charge straight at lilarobius formations to get into range. The tactic surprised German analysts with how effective it was.
​

The political fallout of the battle was immediate. Chancellor Ribbentrop, who was already struggling politically[3], faced a vote of no confidence. It appeared a foregone conclusion, but, at the last hour, Chairwoman of the SDP, Anna Schumacher, instructed her party to vote against the motion. This led to fierce complaints from both inside and outside the SPD, but it proved enough to save the Ribbentrop government.

Schumacher’s goal was soon clear, as a few days later she proposed forming a national unity government comprised of all the parties represented in the Reichstag. Ribbentrop accepted the proposal without hesitation and so did most of the other members of the Reichstag[4].

This was not the end of Schumacher’s ambition. As Germany’s new Minister of Foreign Affairs (the same position she had held in the von Kleist government), she reached out to the other Great Powers. A lack of coordination had almost cost humanity everything. They could not allow national ego to get in the way again.

Her proposal, backed by Ribbentrop and the Unity government, was a joint fleet command. With the orbital shipyards working around the clock to repair the damaged ships, it was an easy sell. She made it easier when she proposed that the joint fleet be placed under the command of the Chinese admiral Yahui Xu. Xu had been present at the battle, leading the EDA fleet, and he had proved a capable commander. Meanwhile, Germany had lost a significant portion of its experienced commanders during the battle. The loss of Admiral Fechter and his command staff was especially problematic, as he had brought along many of the Raumstreitkräfte’s rising stars. Replacing them would take time, and fitting the surviving German ships into the EDA command structure would alleviate some of the strain.

With the core of a new, somewhat united, human fleet behind him, Xu set about drilling at once, preparing for when the lilarobius would return. Or possibly for when humanity would take the fight to them. The war for humanity’s survival was only beginning.


[1] This proved a sore spot for the Sirius Off-World Agricultural Development Consortium. Farming on the ground had been hampered by the local plant life, which grew back with a ferocious speed after being cleared away. This hampered the construction of new farming domes, and, for the time being, locked away large swathes of valuable farmland. When other fertile areas were designated for mining, this further cut into their profit margins. The consortium would challenge the German government in court, claiming that they’d broken the agreement made with Chancellor von Kleist. While proceedings would drag on for years, the courts would eventually rule that the consortium had only gotten farming rights, settling the dispute in favour of the German government.

[2] While some later accounts have claimed that the Chinese government approved Jade Rabbit as an effort to ‘guarantee continuation of civilisation’, no contemporary documents mention this.

[3] During the 2132 election, Anika Ribbentrop had lost her Reichstag majority, with her position being attacked both from the right, in the form of the Europäische Einheitspartei, and the left, as increased military spending had led to significant cuts to basic income. The only reason she was still Chancellor was the surprisingly strong results of the Deutsche Syndikalistische Partei. The Marxist-Faucherian party was viciously opposed to working with the SDP for ideological reasons, splitting the left.

[4] The only holdout was (ironically) the Europäische Einheitspartei. Most historians chalk this up to the ego of Adrian Vetter, who demanded to be made Minister of Defence. This demand was not granted, and he was instead offered a position as Minister of Agriculture. He declined this position.

---

So I actually had to fight this war three times before I had something that didn't end with all of humanity dying. I don't mind losing wars, or even losing the game, I would just prefer if it happened in the mid to late game. But if something seems weird, it's because I had to do less roleplay, and more min-maxing to stay alive.

 

[Side]

The United Fleet
​

February 2125 - Straits of Tsushima - Edge of Korean territorial waters

The Nagato at port in Kure Naval Base. Dubbed a “neo-dreadnaught” by the Japanese, the classification stuck for lack of a better alternative. She would remain the only ship of her category.
​

Rear Admiral Guan clutched his seat tightly. Many of his colleagues in the navy, and especially the navy air arm, mocked him for his fear of VTOLs. It wasn’t his fault the damn things felt rickety. They just didn’t feel sturdy compared to fixed-wing aircraft.
“How far out are we?” he asked into his headset.
“About five minutes, Sir,” the copilot said with the professional calm that one needed to fly one of these rickety rustbuckets.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He had to make sure he didn’t look relieved once he got off. Ordinarily, a faux pas like that would earn him a good-natured ribbing from his peers. Where he was going, he didn’t quite know what to expect, but it probably wouldn’t be good-natured.

“Sir, we have visual contact at eleven o’clock,” the pilot said. “Damn. She’s a big one.”
“What museum did they pull that from,” the copilot added.

Guan glanced out the window towards the convoy. The ship was indeed massive, but it wasn’t old. According to their intelligence, it wasn’t even ten years old. But it looked like it belonged to the 20th century, not the 22nd. The Nagato was 273 metres long, had a displacement of about 67,000 tons and carried four 50 cm guns, supplemented by a battery of smaller guns. That made her, conspicuously, slightly larger than the Yamato, the ship she bore such an unusual resemblance to. Guan wondered if the ship had been Divine Emperor Tomohito’s or Minister-for-Life Furukawa‘s idea. He was confident that no navy man had asked for a ship like that. Guns like those had been outdated before the Yamato hit the ocean floor. Sure, reports claimed that she also carried anti-ship missiles, but those too were about 60 years out of date.

And while the Nagato took centre stage, serving as a propaganda piece (the only use it had), the rest of the fleet presented a conundrum. A dozen or so smaller gunboats, escorting a massive fleet of cargo ships. And they were loitering just outside Korean territorial waters.

From a purely military point of view, the fleet was a non-entity. Guan was sure the Korean air force could maul it with minimal losses. And that was without his own country or the rest of the EDA getting involved. The Russians hadn’t even put their Pacific forces on high alert.

But the fleet had requested to talk to a representative of the Eurasian Defence Agreement. And since talk was a lot cheaper than anti-ship missiles, they would get someone to talk to: Rear Admiral Guan.

The only reason he’d been chosen was the fact that he understood Japanese. That was a fact with some colossal caveats. He’d taken a class on it in university to help with his studies of the Pacific War. That was a long time ago. His attempt at a last-minute review late last night didn’t fill him with confidence.

The pilot took the VTOL in a large circle around the ships as he spoke on the radio. Guan saw the massive rising sun emblem painted on the deck of the Nagato as they passed. It was a symbol he’d seen several times in his textbooks, but only rarely in real life.

The convoy had caused quite an uproar and at a very bad time. The Imperial Chinese Stellar Navy was still recovering from the mauling it had taken at Alpha Centauri. The last thing they needed was the Japanese complicating matters. Most people in China didn’t care too much about the Japanese. They were an occasional source of nuisance and/or comedy. The war was almost two centuries old by this point. Most people didn’t think too much of it.

Not so much in Korea, and, if intelligence was to be believed, certainly not the case in Japan. Guan’s brother-in-law was Korean, and he’d called Guan as soon as the fleet was detected. He’d demanded to know what the navy would do (Guan couldn’t tell him) and how dangerous those ships were (not very). According to his sister, he’d been packing the essentials and was ready to flee Pyongyang at a moment’s notice. And he apparently wasn’t alone. Most of the peninsula seemed more concerned about the Japanese than the lilarobius.

“We’re cleared for landing,” the pilot said, taking the VTOL towards the Nagato.
For a brief moment Guan wondered where they would land, but then he saw the rising sun in front of them. The Japanese had an honour guard waiting for him. Guan steeled himself, making sure his distaste for VTOLs didn’t show.

When he stepped off, he had the steely gaze of a flag officer of the Imperial Chinese Navy. He was met by the equally steely gaze of a Japanese captain, dressed in a spotless dress uniform covered in medals. Completing the ensemble, he had a sword at his side. Guan bit his lip to avoid smirking.

“Welcome aboard, Admiral Guan,” the man said in German that would impress even the most old fashioned Prussian aristocrat. Guan bit his lip harder. So much for his knowledge of Japanese. Even here, half a world away from Europe, German influence coloured everything.

“Rear Admiral Guan, I am Captain Imamura, of the Japanese battleship Nagato. Admiral Ikegoshi is pleased that your government has sent someone to discuss these grave matters.”
What the hell are you talking about? The current situation is only you looking like you’re about to invade. Guan didn’t voice his thoughts and smiled. “The pleasure is all mine. I am sure we can have a fruitful discussion.”
“Please follow me, Admiral.”

Captain Imamura led him into the depths of the ship and it felt like stepping into a museum ship. There were exposed pipes and wiring all around him. Most of the pipes had analogue gauges. He wasn’t sure if he’d seen a single digital display since stepping aboard. The quality of the crew was also diminishing by the second. While the honour guard was filled with tall, imposing men, the rest of the crew looked malnourished. Most of them darted out of the way the moment they spotted Captain Imamura.

They entered the Admiral’s quarters. Guan hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting, but an approximation of a traditional Japanese tea room was not it. In the middle of the room, sitting on tatami mats while preparing tea, was an older officer. Guan could guess at his identity.

“Admiral Ikegoshi,” Captain Imamura said as he snapped to attention. “Rear Admiral Guan from the Eurasian Defence Agreement has arrived.”
“I can see that. Please, Admiral, have a seat.” Admiral Ikegoshi didn’t look up from his tea preparations. “Captain, please give us some privacy.”

The Captain snapped to attention again, then marched out, taking the honour guard with him. The door closed, and a quiet descended over the room. A quiet that was just wrong aboard a warship.

Guan racked his brain, trying to remember tea ceremony etiquette and if the Japanese etiquette differed. He took off his shoes and sat down in front of Admiral Ikegoshi. That seemed a good enough place to start.
“How are you finding the Nagato?” Ikegoshi asked as he poured two cups.
“She is like nothing I have ever seen.” Which was true enough.
“She truly is one of a kind. Though, as with all warships, I hope that she will never have to fire a shot in anger.”

He gave Guan one of the cups with a slight smirk.

“You requested to speak with a representative of the EDA.”
“I did. I would like to discuss the best place to land the troops under my command.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes. I have 80.000 soldiers loaded onto the cargo ships. We require a place to house them until they can be transferred into orbit.”
“To do what, exactly?”
“Why, to fight the aliens, of course.” Ikegoshi said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “Divine Emperor Tomohito conferred with Minister-for-Life Furukawa, and they both agree that the Lavis pose a threat to all of humanity. And given the spirit of cooperation between the other Great Powers, it would not do for an imperial power like Japan to merely sit on the sideline. Unfortunately, we lack the ships to aid in the fight, but when the time comes, Japanese troops will be the first to take the war to these murderous weeds.”

Guan took a sip from the cup, mostly to give himself time to think. The tea was some of the best he’d ever had.

“I will have to confer with my government.”

* * *
​

Anna Schumacher’s new international order got only two weeks before being put to the test. On the 6th of February, 2125, a Japanese task force was detected sailing from Kure Naval Base towards the Straits of Tsushima. At the centre of the task force was the neo-dreadnought Nagato.

The Empire of Japan had regularly made provocations towards the Russian, Chinese and especially Korean governments ever since their defeat in the Second Weltkrieg. While most of the time these provocations were merely diplomatic irritants, they had from time to time escalated into deadly confrontations. Three commercial airlines had been shot down by Japanese navy jets since the end of hostilities, the third happening well inside Korean airspace. Several ships had also been ‘commandeered’, their crews effectively held hostage by the Japanese government. During and following the 2059 Bitoku incident, the Chinese government was forced to bar civilian shipping from the Sea of Japan, fearing that the Japanese would sink freighters in retaliation.

With the Lavis War raging, the Chinese government had little interest in entertaining Japanese sabre-rattling. In a private message to Chancellor Ribbentrop, Chairman Guanyu Zhuang made it clear that he would brook no interference from the Japanese, and that he would sink the task force the moment it crossed into Korean territorial waters. Given the Imperial Japanese Navy’s poor state, the balance of power was firmly in the EDA’s favour.

While the task force wasn’t cause for concern in the halls of power, the same was not true among the common man. Most regular people were wary of what Japan might do, and how it could affect the ongoing war. Meanwhile, in Korea, this wariness escalated into full-blown panic.

The Republic of Korea had been born in the ashes of Japan’s colonial dreams. Much of the country’s early national mythmaking was based around resistance to the Japanese colonial overlords. And while the Japanese had officially renounced any territorial claims to the peninsula, it was clear from defectors and Japanese propaganda that Korea was considered an “occupied province of Japan”. Thus, when news of the task force broke, panic soon spread. This worsened when pro-Japanese 残留兵 (Zanryū-hei) clashed with ethnic Koreans and 海峡漁民 (Kaikyō gyomin)[1].

Korean anti-Zanryū-hei protestors in Busan. Given the city’s geographic closeness to Japan, it had a significant Kaikyō gyomin minority. These groups were typically outspoken opponents of the Japanese and would form the nucleus of any counter protests.
​

However, instead of crossing into Korean water, the commander of the task force, Admiral Ikegoshi, requested safe conduct to Chinese orbital transit stations. His force was indeed an invasion fleet, but one targeting the lilarobius.

This caused some difficulty for the Great Powers. While they were all pleased to avoid having to deal with Japan at such a delicate time they, and especially China, were not keen on giving Japan any degree of international legitimacy. But seeing as none of the Great Powers had any forces capable of a ground invasion[2], they lacked proper justification to dismiss the Japanese.

But one thing was clear, the Japanese could not be quartered in Korea. After a lot of back and forth between the Great Powers, it was decided to send the Japanese task force to Marseille, where they could be housed until (or if) they were needed[3].

At this point, a ground invasion seemed far off. Admiral Xu had spent the time to repair and resupply his new “United” Fleet. After months of work, he was prepared to take the fight to the lilarobius. In the summer of 2125, the fleet entered the Eissam system, coreward of Alpha Centauri. The victory was a minor one, as the lilarobius had not fortified their border systems to nearly the same extent as humanity had. It did however rouse the Ring Defence Fleet, which sallied forth to engage. Intelligence told Admiral Xu that he was outmatched, so he abandoned his gains and retreated to Alpha Centauri, which still had most of its defensive installations intact. The Lavis followed.

The Second Battle of Alpha Centauri was decidedly more one-sided. Without a single large warship serving as a flagship, the lilarobius seemed unsure where to focus their fire. Meanwhile, human forces were far more coordinated, leading groups of lilarobius warships into range of the defensive installations. Piece by piece, the United Fleet destroyed the enemy forces until they beat a hasty retreat. While humanity had taken losses and would need significant time in dock for repairs, they were nothing compared to the number of enemy losses. The Ring Defence Fleet, which had at the start of the war enjoyed an almost 2-1 advantage in ships, was now smaller than the United Fleet.

It was not just by destruction that humanity was gaining a numerical advantage. Back in Sol, the various shipyards were pumping out new corvettes with increasing speed. And these new warships were often deadlier than before, incorporating new technological advances that were being made at a breakneck speed. One of the biggest developments was the new Myrtenaster class corvette.

The Myrtenaster was the result of joint Russo-German developments, combining the existing Edelweiss hull with the autocannons of the Russian Retivyy-class. While the design lacked long-range firepower, both battles of Alpha Centauri had turned into close-range furballs where volume of fire was more important.
​

The biggest concern was getting the crews to man the ships. Between the massive naval expansion and frontline losses, there was an acute lack of personnel. Fortunately, there was no shortage of able volunteers. In Europe, the various German aligned nations would send busloads of volunteers to Kiel for an expedited training course. It was a similar story in Russia and China, though thanks to their large populations there was less need for the smaller EDA nations to contribute troops. Only Korea would man their own corvette, the 힘찬 (himchan)[4].

It was a different matter for Canada. Canada had long struggled with a relatively small population. This, combined with the negative view most Canadians had of the military, stifled recruitment efforts. And while Canada didn’t have as large a network of allies to draw from, they did have a more informal resource to their south.

Following the Third Civil War, the American Republic’s constitution had been amended to ban the federal government from having any armed force. Instead, the nation would rely on various local militias for defence. These militias were further prohibited from any action outside their home state unless invited. This system had been put in place in hopes of both curbing the cause of the civil war and the worst excesses during it. Effectively this meant that American citizens could by law not fight in the Lavis War until Lavis troops were landing in America.

This was naturally a problem, and there was wide public support for changing the law, but constitutional restrictions and internal political disputes (American politics was so factious that it made the Great Powers seem cordial) prevented this. There was, however, a loophole.

The Canadian military had long maintained the “American Legion”, where Americans could serve in exchange for Canadian citizenship and university tuition. Following the Mercenary Act of 1997, any such person would be arrested upon their return to America. Thus, service in the American Legion was defacto self-exile. There was a surge in applications with the start of the Lavis War.

Recruits to the American Legion who renounced their American citizenship in order to fight in the Lavis War. While officially considered criminals in their former homeland, among the public they were considered heroes making a personal sacrifice to protect their former homes.​

With the balance shifting in humanity’s favour, Admiral Xu set out on a more offensive posture. Setting out from Alpha Centauri, he once again took control of the Eissam system before continuing on to take the Sidor system. This put Xu and the United Fleet on the doorstep to Lav, the lilarobius home system.

The situation in early 2128. While the changes to the frontlines were relatively minor, the strategic implications were massive. Now the lilarobius were the ones at risk of facing enemy orbital bombardment.
​

While many on Earth cheered at the prospect of taking the war to the aliens, Admiral Xu and the Great Power leaders were hesitant. While the Ring Defence Fleet was smaller, they had taken up position around the main Lavis shipyard. While not as heavily fortified as Alpha Centauri, it could tip the balance. In an interview after the war, Admiral Xu said the following: “It was looking like a fair fight. I didn’t want a fair fight. My job was to fight an unfair one.”

What followed was a standoff, as the United Fleet hoped to lure the Ring Defence Force away from its protective cover, while they tried to lure humanity into the station’s fields of fire.

It was exhausting work, as it required constant readiness from the crew. Sailors who had fought in the battles around Alpha Centauri remarked that the battles had been less stressful as “those were a few hours of absolute pandemonium. This was weeks of not knowing if today was going to be the day.”

The stress seems to have worn on the lilarobius as well. On the 9th of May, 2128, a message was received on the same frequencies that first contact had been made so many years earlier. Speaking on behalf of the Lavis Republic, High Councillor White Pine offered humanity “A stay of execution”[5] and a return to pre-war borders. This offer was rejected out of hand.

It is still unclear what prompted the Lavis to seek terms. The main theory is that the government was coming under increasing public pressure. With the United Fleet in the Lav system, the drive plumes could be seen from the ring by anyone with a powerful telescope. It is doubtful that government propaganda could cover up this fact.
​

Even before the war, the Raumstreitkräfte had identified the lack of strategic depth as one of their chief concerns. Only Alpha Centauri stood between Earth and Lavis space, and with Neu Brandenburg increasing industrial importance, humanity would have to hold this system as well. As such, the counter proposal was simple: humanity would take control of the Eissam system. This would give humanity breathing space and also put more pressure on the Lavis Republic.

The Lavis didn’t immediately respond, causing the standoff to continue for another week. Back on Earth discussions were ongoing regarding a potential assault on the ring, with Admiral Ikegoshi pushing for permission to send his troops into space.

When the lilarobius finally responded, it was succinct:

“We agree to your terms. Eissam shall be ceded to humanity. Your fleet is to leave Lavis Republic space at once.”
​

Humanity had just concluded its first interstellar war.

The post-war borders. While the rationale for seizing Eissam was primarily to give humanity more space to fortify, a side-effect was opening the hyperlane to the Holdebaana system. This would give humanity a path corewards.

​

[1] 残留兵 (Zanryū-hei), or Remnants, were the descendants of Japanese soldiers and civilians who were not able to flee Korea as the combined Russian and Chinese troops marched down the peninsula. Following the war these remnants faced significant legal persecution and often formed insular communities. As the military threat from Japan decreased and formal persecution lessened, they would often publicly call for a ‘union’ between Korea and Japan.

海峡漁民 (Kaikyō gyomin), or Strait Fishermen, were Japanese defectors and their descendants. Named for how defectors would often cross the Straits of Tsushima in old, decrepit fishing boats, this group was a lot smaller, in large part thanks to being much more willing to assimilate into Korean society. They naturally didn’t see eye to eye with the zanryū-hei.

[2] Both the German Heer and the Canadian Army had conducted feasibility studies of launching a ground invasion of the Lavis ring. Both concluded that the logistical requirements would be massive, and complete orbital supremacy would be needed. The way back to Earth would also need to be clear of any Lavis warships, which necessitated the neutralisation of the Ring Defence Fleet. As a result, all the Great Powers instead funnelled their resources into constructing new warships.

[3] The Japanese troops were welcomed surprisingly warmly once they arrived in France. While some of this was encouraged by local and national governments, a lot of it was genuine. Japanese troops, many of whom had never left their hometowns until military service, were given tours of the surrounding area and many troops fell in love with locals. Admiral Ikegoshi tried to clamp down on “fraternisation”, but with little success. Defections were widespread.

[4] The Nordic Union’s corvette Fryktløs had been one of the survivors of the First Battle of Alpha Centauri, but had suffered a catastrophic reactor failure while in transit back to Earth for repairs. She was lost with all hands. The Nordic Union did start work on a replacement, Modig, but she would not be finished until after the war.

[5] It is unclear if this was a translation error, or if this was the intended meaning.

​

 

[Side]

Interlude: Damage Control
​

May 2128 - CRS Tempest - Engineering section

​

Jordan was staring at his slate, watching the red blob of ships move closer to the blue blob of ships. They had a pretty good idea of the maximum range the aliens would fire their missiles at, and they were about 9.000 kilometres away from that point. To Jordan, that sounded like a lot, but that was less than the width of Earth. He still struggled to wrap his head around just how big space was.

He choked when a manoeuvre sent the distance tumbling towards the crunch point, but the Ring Defence Fleet adjusted their own vector, stopping the tumble and slowly opening the distance again. The lilarobius didn’t want to fight either.

He knew watching the tactical display was bad for his mental health. He struggled to sleep, he had no appetite and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something for fun. And he wasn’t alone. Most of the Tempest’s crew were fraying. He’d spoken to the officers about limiting the enlisted from watching the tactical display, instead relying on NCOs like him to keep them updated. Apparently they were considering it. That wouldn’t help Jordan, but it would be a worthy sacrifice.

“Attention all hands, prepare for manoeuvring and heavy thrust,” the helm chimed in his suit radio.
Jordan looked around to make sure the rest of his damage control team was securely fastened to their chairs. It was pure reflex, and only after he was done did he think about the implications. Was this it? Were they attacking? Back during the Second Battle of Alpha Centauri the lilarobius had taken the initiative and come to them. It hadn’t worked out for them very well. Were they making the same mistake?

He still had nightmares about the last battle, when the forward railgun was destroyed. It had been a light hit, yet the entire section had been a charnel house. Those that died in the blast were the lucky ones. Cook and McLean had survived the immediate blast and decompression only to die from internal bleeding hours later. Jordan and his team had spent days picking charred flesh from bits of broken machinery as they tried to get the Tempest into something resembling working order.

As if to underline his fears, Captain Belair came onto the ship com.
“All hands, we’ve got an incoming message from Admiral Xu. Pay attention.”
That seemed to confirm it. Jordan took a deep breath, trying to push the memories of the last battle from his mind. Opposite him, Crewman Jackson was making the sign of the cross. Ouellet and Nguyen were giving each other nervous glances.

“Attention all members of the United Fleet,” Admiral Xu said with an authoritative air that he must have practised. He reminded Jordan of Earl Browder, announcing the “liberation of the working class from the reactionary monarchists of Canada”. He wouldn’t dare mention that to anyone.

“Half an hour ago I received a message from Earth. They have received word from High Councillor White Pine.”
Jordan felt the manoeuvring thrusters fire, pointing the ship towards their new vector. The main thrusters fired, pushing Jordan into the seat. It was a hard burn. His throat was tight. He didn’t dare to look at the tactical display. To watch the numbers tumble towards zero.

“The Lavis Republic has agreed to our peace terms and we have been ordered to leave Lavis space at once.”

Jordan felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Part of him refused to believe it. The rest of him scrambled for the tactical display, desperate for confirmation. Fumbling, he found it, and the numbers were going up. They were leaving and the Lavis weren’t following. The joy and disbelief mixed with weeks of anxiety. It almost made him sick.

He wasn’t the only one. He was brought back to reality when Jackson crumpled over and started dry heaving. Training took over, and Jordan was by his side in an instant, checking to see if he’d vomited in his helmet, ready to activate the emergency suction if he had. There wasn’t anything so far, but Jackson looked pale. Deciding to break the rules, he removed Jackson’s helmet.

Jackson was pale and sweating, but he had a nervous smile that Jordan surely mirrored.
“Chief, did we do it? Did we win?”
Jordan looked around. Ouellet and Nguyen were hugging each other. He could see tears running down Ouelette’s face.
“Yeah… I think we might have won.”

Admiral Xu had been saying something, but nobody had paid any attention. Now that he was finished, Captain Belair returned.
“This ship will remain in an alert posture until the fleet is safe from any enemy counterattack. Until such a time, I expect all of you to perform your duties to the standard that is expected of you.” The Captain’s voice was as stern as ever, but Jordan could hear the smile creeping over his face. “That said, you have all proven yourselves exemplary time and time again. I am honoured to be allowed to lead the finest men and women of the Canadian military. I’m sure you all have people back home you’re desperate to talk to, so I’m authorising five minutes of priority com time for each of you. Captain Belair out.”

The hum of the ship was deafening. As the colour returned to Jackson’s face, Jordan decided it was time to obey the rules again and handed back his helmet. He stood up and faced the people he was responsible for.
“You heard the Captain. The war isn’t over until we’re safely away. So I expect all of you to do your job.”
The smiles he received in return were those of people who now saw a future for themselves.

It was a bit silly. With no incoming damage, the damage control team didn’t have much work to do. So instead Jordan reflected on what he would say to his parents and what he would do next. Returning home was off the table. He’d known that when he joined up. He’d be arrested and jailed, even though people like him were celebrated as heroes back home. His parents had been advocating for a repeal of the Mercenary Act, but he didn’t put much stock in the politicians. Any future work would have to be outside of America.

Maybe he could stay in the military. It wasn’t as if the lilarobius and the Lavis Republic had been defeated. They would no doubt lick their wounds (or whatever sentient plants did) and rebuild. And they would need to be ready for them. There wouldn’t be a great demobilisation at the end of this war.

His mother wouldn’t be happy. She’d understood the need when the lilarobius had mauled them the first time at Alpha Centauri. Everyone knew the stakes then. But remaining in the military… Maybe he could get a job at one of the naval yards. That would be safer and closer, while still doing his part.

He almost didn’t notice when they were released from general quarters. After stowing his suit, he found his bunk and set up his slate. Looking into the camera, he hesitated for a moment before pressing play.

“Hey mom, dad… By the time you get this, you’ll probably already know… I don’t really know what to say.” He looked at his reflection on the screen. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he seemed to glow.

“I guess all that matters is that I’m coming home.”

 

[Side]

Die Wacht Im Raum

A Kaiserreich Stellaris AAR
​

May 2099 - High Earth Orbit

​

The shuttle lurched as the thrusters cut out and Dr. Rosanne McLauren felt like she was floating. Which she would have if not for the harness keeping her firm in her seat. It was a strange sensation that she would have to get used to if she wanted to do her job.

But the sensation wasn’t just the lack of gravity. She was filled with an excitement she hadn’t felt since her awkward teenage attempts at romance. But this was much bigger, much more exciting. This would end up in the history books, no matter the outcome.

“Meine Damen und Herren, as I’m sure you have noticed, we have completed our retrograde burn.” The pilot’s voice brought her back. “We are now beginning our final approach to the Kaiser Wilhelm II Shipyards. If you turn your view-screen to the external camera feed, you can see the station, as well as the three Agatha Dorn class corvettes.”

Rosanne turned on her screen, but not to see the three warships the Germans were so proud of. Sure, they were impressive from a technological point of view, but the Germans were too fond of solving problems by shooting them. They were the pinnacle of human engineering (or they were, until very recently), and their purpose was to kill and destroy. Naming them after soldiers who had died in the Reich’s wars was almost perverse.

Would Agatha Dorn have felt honoured knowing that decades after her death, her name would adorn one of the most powerful weapons ever created? Would it make up for getting her legs blown off by a roadside bomb and bleeding out far from home in the scorching Australian deserts?

And what about Adolf Hitler and Erich Burchwald? Would they feel honoured by getting their names attached to such ships? Maybe they would. Germans were funny that way.

As they came closer, the purpose of her trip emerged from the shadow of the station and she was grinning from ear to ear. Unlike the warships, the Johannes von Gmunden carried no weapons. Instead, it carried all manner of scientific equipment, exploratory drones, and much more importantly, the Perrin-Engberg drive. It would be her home for the coming months, or, if everything worked like it should, years. If everything worked, she would be one of the first people to visit another solar system.

* * *

​

Hello, and welcome to my Stellaris AAR. I’ll be guiding a version of humanity that is based on an amalgamation of several different Kaiserreich campaigns, seasoned with a few bits of my own narrative embellishments. As a result, some of the lore may be a bit out of date. Also, this is my first attempt at an AAR, so expect some mistakes and bumps along the road.

We’ll be following the German Reich, about 150 years after its victory in the Second Weltkrieg. This is not some unified world government, and while the Germans are the dominant military power, they do have rivals among the nations of Earth. These nations will play a part in the story, and who knows, maybe everyone will unite after a bug war or two.

I’ve set the Germans to be a monarchy, but I’ll be roleplaying them more as a constitutional monarchy as opposed to an absolute one. I’ve picked militarist and materialist to convey a sense of a secular society with a strong tendency towards “Weltpolizei”, while Mechanist represents a large degree of industrial automation.

Finally, while I do understand a bit of German, I am nowhere near fluent. So there’s going to be a fair bit of Google and DeepL Translate.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the story.

Index:

Prologue: Legacy of the Second Weltkrieg

Prologue: The Space Race

The Early Space Age

The Jump

Groundside

The Fermi Paradox

Landing Day

Metadata

Interlude: The Press Conference

The Lavis Republic

Lines on a Map

A Change in Course

The Calm

The Storm

The United Fleet

Interlude: Damage Control

The Joint Administration for the Colonisation and Security of Space

The Space Security Administration

Queens and Pawns

Leviathans

Two Miscalculations

Downfall

Interlude: Family

The Confederacy

Our Oldest Enemy

The Deep

Tannenberg

The Confederacy

New Ventures

Interlude: Comrades Across the Stars

Addendum: Earth in the Early Space Age

The Human Interstellar Age

Committee Meetings

A New Horizon

A Monument to Our Sins

The Search for a Just War

A Geopolitical Feeding Frenzy

Interlude: The Final Line

A Galaxy for All Mankind

The Burian Conspiracy

The Loyalty Crisis​

 

[Side]

The Space Security Administration
​

June 2128 - Berliner Schloss - Berlin

​

Prime Minister Marcus Beckett accepted a champagne flute from the waiter as he made his way towards the back room. The Germans had pulled out all the stops. Around him, he could see close to fifty heads of state, and that was just the fraction present in the grand hall. If you went out into the gardens you could probably find another hundred countries represented. Even Emperor Tomohito was here, boasting about the critical role the Japanese troops had played in the war, with everyone politely ignoring the fact that they hadn’t fired a single shot.

He found the door to the back room and slipped inside. This party was less lavish, but significantly more exclusive. Besides himself, only Anika Ribbentrop, Anna Schumacher, Guanyu Zhuang, Admiral Yahui Xu and Nikolai Yaroslav Kovalyov were present. Nikolai noticed Marcus the moment he stepped inside.

“Ahh, you’re here. We were worried you got lost.”
“I was distracted by some pastries,” Marcus said. “And Prime Minister Horner wanted to discuss some off-world mining rights. Fortunately, I had my mouth full of said pastries, so I was unable to give him an intelligible response.”

They gave him the polite chuckle that was second nature to any politician worth their salt and the attention slid away from Marcus and over to the only one who wasn’t a politician.

Admiral Xu looked uncomfortably out of place, both hands holding onto the champagne flute. He clearly didn’t know where to put his hands, thus the awkward grip.

“A toast!” Nikolai said, raising his glass. “To the man of the hour!”
Xu cringed a little bit, but he still smiled as they all raised their glass to him.

“How does it feel to be back on Earth?” Guanyu asked. “Must be quite different than when you left.”
“It is pleasantly similar, Sir. The higher gravity takes a while to get used to. My back has been killing me, even with the steroid cocktail the Germans gave us.” He looked into his glass, shuffling slightly. “Honestly, the biggest difference is the people. I’ve gotten six marriage proposals since I returned. I don’t know any of them. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I went back home to visit family. The entire town showed up…”

Marcus considered him. He’d read the briefing when Schumacher had put him in command of the United Fleet. The man had very much risen from nothing. The third son growing up in a rural village in the Chinese interior, his entire family living off basic income. Most would have guessed he was destined for a life as an unknown nobody. But good grades and a desire for adventure had drawn him to the military, where he had excelled. And twenty-five years later he had been the right man at the right spot, and now he had a spot in the history books. That was a feat many far more ambitious men never achieved.

“You’ll get used to it,” Nikolai said. “They erected a bust of me back home when I became President. Seeing it for the first time was strange.”
“Oh no…”
Xu’s look of horror caused a round of laughter.

“Let’s not forget the woman of the hour as well.” Marcus turned and nodded to Anna. As the attention turned her way, she looked far more comfortable with it.
“The stage is yours,” Anika said with a smile that seemed odd given their political rivalry. “Got anything you want to say?”
“I do, in fact.”

Her gaze flowed across the people in the room, then she took a deep breath.
“Standing here, do you know what I see?” She motioned with her champagne flute. Nobody said anything.

“I see a bunch of colossal idiots who almost managed to kill us all.”

The room was silent. Xu was looking slightly panicked, stealing glances at Guanyu. Guanyu, however, didn’t look concerned. He’d been dealing with Anna for years when she served as foreign minister. They all had. So they all waited for her to continue. Which she did.

“Our moronic bickering over colonisation rights and who gets what left us unprepared to face the biggest threat humanity has ever faced. We were a hairbreadth from having Lavis warships in orbit, setting fire to entire continents.”

“In fairness, Germany hasn’t exactly made cooperation easy,” Guanyu said.
“I am well aware of this. Nobody in this room, with the exception of the good Admiral, is innocent.”
“I assume you have a point,” Marcus said. “You don’t usually do this without having some ulterior motive.”
“I do. Our fleets were almost destroyed because they didn’t act as one. Only under a unified command structure were we able to strike back. We cannot expect to survive unless we apply the same principle to our politics.”
“Just what are you suggesting?” Nikolai asked. “A united world government? Even I would struggle to get that through the Duma.”
“Yes and no. I know a united world government is far too utopian--”
“Some would call it dystopian,” Marcus interjected. Anna ignored him.
“But that does not mean we can’t work together off-world. We have a chance, right now, to work together.”

The room grew quiet. She didn’t mention the alternative. Marcus could hear the distant celebration. It felt far away.

“We know we’re asking a lot,” Anika said. “And we’re willing to make some… concessions. You all think Germany has taken too much, with Neu Brandenburg and Grossbayern. Well, how about you get the next worlds?” She looked to Guanyu. “You had plans for Kappler IIIa.”
“Yes. We have,” Guanyu said with his easy, jovial tone. “And we don’t need your permission.”
“You’re right. But it will surely be easier with our cooperation.”

Guanyu didn’t respond and instead considered the offer. Anika seized the initiative and turned her attention to Marcus. Even now she seemed like a deadly predator poised to strike.
“A Canadian flag on Shuckon IV. How about it?”
“You must be joking,” Marcus said. She gave a quick glance to Anna, and, for a brief moment, he didn’t see the driven career politician he’d known for years.

“We’re serious,” Anna said. Marcus’ bafflement deepened.
“You’ve read the reports. That isn’t a normal ocean. It’s some sort of… thing.”
The two Germans exchanged glances again. This wasn’t going the way they had expected. And Marcus could somewhat understand it. On paper, the planet was an aquatic goldmine. But that… thing… it bothered him.

“Well, if Canada doesn’t want it, then Russia will gladly take it. Maybe then we can have some of those warm water ports I’ve heard so much about.”
Everyone’s attention switched to Nikolai, who had loosened his tie and was slouching in one of the armchairs. Somewhere he’d found another champagne flute and was happily sipping as everyone’s attention fell on him.
“You’re… You’re sure about that?” Guanyu asked, sounding less like a head of government and more like a concerned friend. “We don’t know what that… thing, is.”
“We’re Russians. We’ll adapt. Besides, it’s far away from the aliens, so that’s good.”

“Well, I guess that works out then,” Anna said with a shrug and turned her attention back to Marcus. “We had planned to offer Samdeeram to Nikolai, but…”
“Russia does not need two planets,” Nikolai chimed in. “We’re not Germany.”
Everyone but Xu ignored him. Welcome to the world of Great Power negotiations. It’s nowhere near as dignified and well-oiled as people imagine it, Marcus mused. But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it soon enough.

He refocused on the issue ahead. The Germans and Nikolai had put him in a bind. Samdeeram was even farther away than both Kappler and Shuckon. If he agreed to it, it would be years, maybe even decades until people actually set foot on the planet. But if he refused… Both Guanyu and Nikolai seemed to be on board, and they would happily continue without Canada’s involvement if he rejected their offer.

Marcus didn’t share the chauvinisms of some of his countrymen. Far too many of them looked to Canada’s past and saw greatness. But that had been before the July coup, before the fall of the Bright Young Things. While the revolution had set Canada free, it had also undermined Canada’s legitimacy. Half the reason Marcus even had a seat at the table was due to diplomatic inertia and the others not wanting to make a fuss.

“Samdeeram is quite far away,” he said.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Guanyu said.
“There are a few closer worlds,” Anika said. “Though most of them aren’t very habitable.”
“And some of them even have people living on them,” Nikolai chimed in. “Or, well… you know…”
Marcus wondered if the champagne was getting to the Russian. “Not Pithria. The First Nations would crucify me. And the liberals would supply the lumber.”

“We can keep our options open,” Anna said. “No need to make any final decision right now.”
“Very well then. I accept.” While Marcus did appreciate her throwing him a lifeline, he couldn’t quite help feeling embarrassed by the situation. The room grew quiet as Anika and Anna smiled at each other. Still looking a bit lost, Xu watched them all.

“Did you just establish a new world order?”
“Yes, Admiral,” Guanyu said. “I guess we just did.”

* * *
​

The news of peace with the lilarobius caused celebrations throughout human space. From the high halls of Berlin to the most distant ore carrier, humanity celebrated as one. Only the memorial services for the dead served as a damper on the jubilant spirit, and even these had a theme of triumph through tragedy[1]. It was a moment where the distinctions of nationality, race or creed felt petty and meaningless.

However, while people celebrated, others worried. History was full of stories about people uniting in times of crisis, just to fall back into their petty disputes once the crisis was over. Anna Schumacher was all too aware of this. She had managed to unite people when it mattered most, but only after they had come within a hair’s breadth of losing everything. The next time -- and, as long as the Lavis Republic continued to exist, there would be a next time -- they might not be so lucky. They would have to be ready. And to be ready they would have to stay united.

For this to happen, some things would have to change. The first was the abandonment of the chauvinism that had defined German off-world politics during the early space age. Unless the other nations of Earth, or at least the powerful ones, were allowed to take their share of the spoils space offered, they would never stand by Germany. Fortunately for Schumacher, she was not alone in this view.

After discussing the matter with Chancellor Ribbentrop and other prominent members of the Reichstag, she proposed a joint space colonisation and security organisation to the other Great Powers. To sweeten the deal, Germany would assist with the Chinese government’s colonisation of Chang'e. Meanwhile, Russia would get the ocean world Shuckon IV, while Canada would receive a suitable world “at a future point in time”.

Shuckon IV was an ocean world located on the galactic rim. Discovered by the Bernhard Walther during the Lilarobius - Human War, the crew noted the sea covering the planet displayed qualities “indicating some form of intelligence”.
​

In return, all systems outside of Sol would be under the supranational authority of ‘The Joint Administration for the Colonisation and Security of Space’, more commonly known as the Space Security Administration[2]. While the nations would have the authority to develop their worlds as they saw fit, the SSA could requisition both resources and land they required to defend human space. The SSA would also possess wide-ranging police and judicial authority of any space outside of Sol.

Criticism of the organisation began before its org chart was finished. Civil liberty advocates argued that it imposed permanent martial law on anyone living off-world. Other critics, especially from minor, non-aligned nations, such as Mexico, the Philippines and Mysore were publicly wondering if the bounty of space was only for the Great Powers and their allies. The Indochinese Federation went one step further, with the Central Committee calling the SSA “the second coming of the Berlin Conference.”

The flag of the SSA. The stars represented the various worlds humanity claimed, with the largest star representing Earth, while the two stars to the left represented Neu Brandenburg and Grossbayern. The two remaining stars represented Chang'e and Shuckon IV. Both of these worlds were uncolonised by the time the flag was unveiled. The fact that whatever world Canada would claim was not on the flag caused a minor scandal in Ottawa.
​

This did little to stop the support for the SSA. Among the largely earthbound public it seemed a reasonable compromise to ensure their safety, while to those in the halls of power, Germany was giving them exactly what they wanted. Resolutions to join the Space Security Administration passed through the various parliaments of the Great Powers with minimal difficulty. Only in Germany did it run into issues, with both far-left and far-right members of the Reichstag condemning the proposal for very different reasons. Schumacher and Ribbentrop had to enforce ruthless party discipline, and the bill passed with a narrow margin.

The Joint Administration for the Colonisation and Security of Space was established on the 3rd of August, 2128. The organisation had two principal bodies: the Executive Council and the Administration Assembly.

The Executive Council was comprised of five seats, four of them permanently assigned to the Great Powers, while the last seat rotated among the other members of the Administration Assembly. The Executive Council, as the name might suggest, served as the executive body of the SSA. While it did formally answer to the Administration Assembly, it also possessed wide-ranging powers to act independently during ‘times of crisis’.

General Jack Charles Vance was the first incumbent to the ‘rotating’ seat in the Executive Council. Vance had previously served as the Chief of Staff in the New England Republic and in many ways set the standard of what kind of man was assigned to the seat. Serving a five year term, he would become the de facto face of the Executive Council.
​

The Administration Assembly was comprised of all the member states of the SSA. While at first just the Great Powers and their allies, it would soon attract various non-aligned nations that saw the assembly as a way to increase their fortunes in space. With every nation possessing one vote each, it was at first seen as an equal playing field. However, with the Great Powers dominating the Executive Council, the balance of power was firmly in the Great Powers’ favour.

Though not intentional, a distinction between the two bodies soon developed. The Administration Assembly was mainly a civilian body, primarily concerned with colonisation and trade. The Executive Council meanwhile was almost exclusively made up of current or former military officers. The difference in priority between these bodies would lead to several high-profile fights for funding and resources.

The first act of the Space Security Administration, announced during the opening ceremony, was the laying down of the colony ship 流星 (Liúxīng, or Shooting Star). Though dubbed Project Jade Rabbit, the colonisation project shared little with the pre-war Chinese plan as there was no need for subterfuge. The Liúxīng even shared a template with the SMR Komet, the colony ship that had established Grossbayern.

One facet the project shared with its earlier incarnation was being a pure colonial venture. Due to the large distances involved, the affair would be a one-way trip for most of its passengers. Despite this, there was no shortage of applicants. While most were motivated by a lack of work and space back on Earth, a number of applicants were explicit in their desire to be as far away from the lilarobius as possible. Political pundit Xia Yu noted that “People would rather brave earthquakes and kaiju than stay and deal with a handful of angry weeds.”

However, the colonisation of Chang'e was still far off, with the most optimistic projections not expecting people to be landing on the moon for another three years. In this way, the SSA got off to an easy start, with most of its efforts focused on expanding the fleet, constructing defensive facilities in Eissam, as well as constructing fleet support facilities in Sirius. The most serious incident was when the KWO, still under German administration, released several findings from one of their scientific expeditions.

The expedition to Wexellia II sent back hundreds of pictures and 3D laser scans of the cenotaphs littering the surface. While the writing was undecipherable at the time, the imagery proved more than vivid enough.
​

The findings proved widely influential among the general populace and caused widespread appreciation for not only what had been out there, but what could still be there. Some, mostly military and political hardliners, feared this could lead to “alien sympathies”, but most members of the SSA dismissed this view. The threat was the Lavis Republic, not alien life in general.

This attitude would be put to the test on New Year’s Day, 2131, when the Johannes von Gmunden jumped into the Unatra system along the galactic rim. After doing the usual sensor sweep of the system’s celestial bodies, they soon discovered an object changing vector. It didn’t take long for the crew to realise they were looking at an alien ship. More importantly, it didn’t belong to the Lavis Republic.

​

[1] - The casualties of the war were remarkably low given the high stakes of the conflict. In total 2.651 service members were killed; 1.677 Germans (970 of these were aboard the Friedrich der Große, which was lost with all hands), 384 Russians, 292 Chinese, 206 Canadian (including members of the American Legion) and 92 service members from minor nations. For comparison, Germany alone suffered 4.112 casualties during the Australasian Intervention, with coalition casualties almost doubling that number.

[2] - In Germany the organisation was known as Die Gemeinsame Verwaltung für die Kolonisierung und Sicherheit des Weltraums, though it was soon called Die Weltraum-Sicherheitsbehörde. Among those hostile to the organisation it soon acquired the initialism JACASS. For this reason the Space Security Administration avoided its official abbreviation.

 

[Side]

Queens and Pawns
​

January 2131 - Johannes von Gmunden - Unatra system

​

Captain Joachim Braun closed the hatch to his cabin and floated over to the safe set into the far wall. He entered the code and opened it. Inside were a stack of documents, a box of jewellery and other valuables that could serve as bribes, and his sidearm. He dug through the documents until he found the two sealed envelopes he was looking for.

The first was only to be opened if the Lavis broke past the Jupiter Line, effectively meaning the enemy was in Earth orbit. Joachim had a pretty good idea of what the letter said. Dr. Russell had remarked on the cryopod they had in storage. Apparently, he had used the exact same model at Oxford to store embryos. The Johannes also carried a gestation pod and the database contained a massive repository of human culture and history. It didn't take a genius to piece it together. Joachim knew a contingency plan when he saw one.

Leaving Earth while the Lavis war still raged had been one of the hardest decisions of his life. They had left before the United Fleet had smashed the Ring Defense Fleet at Alpha Centauri and at that point the war was still uncertain. It had felt like he was running away, leaving his family and friends behind to face whatever happened. At least the guys aboard the Andreas Stöberl had been directly involved in the war effort, picking through the remains of enemy warships and learning what they could.

He put the first envelope back and regarded the second one. This one was only to be opened if they encountered an unknown alien race capable of interstellar travel. He had a pretty good idea of what this said as well.

He opened it and read it. He wasn't surprised.

* * *
​

"So that's the situation," Joachim said to the assembled crew. "If the aliens show signs of aggression in response to our message, then we are not to retreat the way we came unless we can break contact first. If they try to board us, or our ship is otherwise incapacitated, we are to deactivate the magnetic containment on the reactor. We can't lead them back to Earth, or otherwise give any clue as to where we come from."

The crew floated around the common room. None of them looked particularly happy about what he'd just said. To their credit, none of them looked particularly shocked either. You didn't become a part of the Johannes' crew without knowing the ship could easily become your tomb.

Dr. de Weese raised a hand. "Can we send back a message first? To our families, I mean. In the event this goes... poorly."
Joachim considered her. At only twenty-six, Clarissa de Weese was the youngest member on the ship. A prodigy, she had finished her doctorate in chemistry at only twenty-two. Her position aboard the Johannes was the first time she'd lived away from her parents.
"I don't see any issues with this. Just make sure it's ready in good time." She nodded, and Joachim looked to the rest. "Anything else?"

"What do we do if the aliens are hostile, but not enough to shoot at us?" Lieutenant Beck asked.
The briefing hadn't specified. Joachim thought about it for a moment.
"We'll try to break contact. If that proves difficult, we'll wait for instructions from Earth. However long that will take."

A message back to Earth, even a high-priority one, would easily take three weeks. The response would take the same time back. Factor in time for the politicians to make up their mind, they could easily look at two months before they got their orders. Good thing they weren't in a hurry.

"Any other questions?"
A few looked like they had some, but not the kind they wanted to share with everyone else. That was fine. They would seek him out in private if it was important.
"Very well. We'll transmit the First Contact package tomorrow at 10.00. Deadline for any messages home is 8.00. I want everyone in suits and ready for action by 9.00. Everyone got that?"
He got a chorus of "got it" and "affirmative" as the meeting broke up.

Tomorrow would be a historic moment. Joachim was just unsure what kind of history they were facing.

* * *
​

The tomorrow came far too quickly. When he floated onto the bridge the next morning there was none of the usual chatter. Everyone was at their post, and what little talk present was brief, to the point and professional. Everyone was wearing their skin-suits; always a sign that they were about to do something dangerous.

"Good morning, Captain," Lieutenant Schäfer said as Joachim found his seat. "Sleep well?"
"No," he replied with surprising candour. He continued before any awkwardness had time to settle. "What's our status?"
"All messages sent, everyone is accounted for and at their post and all systems running in the green."
"And our friend?"
"Still having a very close look at that gas-giant."

That was what confused Joachim the most, and he wasn’t alone. Beyond a cursory LIDAR scan, the other ship had scarcely given them any attention. They’d been moving through the system, conducting their survey in a very organised fashion. They didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about the Johannes.

That lack of caution made the situation all the more strange. Naval intelligence, oxymoron it may be, had ripped all the data they could from Lavis warships disabled in Alpha Centauri. The intelligence found within suggested that the Lilarobius had been in contact with another alien race. That meant potential allies.

But any alien race that had made contact with the Lavis Republic should be cautious. So were these aliens just not scared by them? Or were they someone else? And even then, shouldn’t they pay a bit more attention when encountering a new species? Joachim felt like he was treated as an insignificant ant.

He stopped himself from continuing that thought and tapped through his comms display until he found Lieutenant Maes’ frequency.
“This is the Captain. Are we ready to transmit?” he asked the communications officer.
“We’ve been ready for the last hour, Captain. Say the word and we’ll say hi.”
“Understood. Be ready to send.” He switched to ship-wide comms. “Attention all hands. We are about to contact the aliens. Be ready for anything.” He switched back to Lieutenant Maes. “Send the message.”
“Yes, Sir.”

Seven seconds later Maes was done.
“Message away, Sir. Target is 4.73 light minutes away. Do you want a timer on the main screen?”
“That will not be necessary.” No need to make this wait even more excruciating. “Just keep me updated if there is any kind of response.”

The minutes ticked by. There was no immediate response at the 4.73-minute mark. That was probably good. But there wasn’t any reaction either. They resent the first contact package at the one-hour mark. As they approached the three-hour mark, boredom was starting to set in.

“Lieutenant Schäfer, inform the scientific personnel that they are relieved from action stations, but that they are to remain in their skin-suits for the time being.”
“Yes, Sir. And the ops personnel?”
“We’ll wait a while longer, we still have to make sur…”

Joachim felt light-headed. A little at first, then a lot at once. If he hadn’t been strapped into his chair he would probably have curled up. The sensation reminded him of doing a hyperlane jump, but without the acute nausea. At the same time he had a strange sensation, as if tendrils were working their way through his brain.

Looking around, he wasn’t alone. Most of the bridge crew were buckled over, some looked like they were in pain, others were sweating and gasping for air. Right next to him Schäfer was sobbing, tears floating freely inside his helmet. Joachim felt like he should do something, but even the thought of getting out of his chair was agonising.

The invasive sensation disappeared with as little warning as it appeared. By that time the entire bridge crew was reeling. Status reports soon came in from the rest of the ship. Whatever that thing was, everyone had been affected by it.

“Ca… Captain Braun.” Lieutenant Maes was breathing heavily. Joachim couldn’t see him from his position.
“Go ahead,” Joachim replied, forcing what authority he could muster into his voice.
“The alien ship, they’re pinging us with LIDAR.” Joachim’s guts instantly turned to ice. “I think it’s Morse code.”
Joachim gave himself a moment to let his guts thaw. “What does it say.”

“Guten Tag, Menschen.”

* * *
​

On the 5th of January, 2131, the crew of the Johannes von Gmunden sent the revised First Contact protocols to the unknown ship in the Unatra system. The new protocols were far more conservative than those used during first contact with the Lilarobius. Instead of telling about humanity’s history and where it came from, this new package was mostly concerned with establishing communication. Any cultural exchange would have to come later.

There was significant unease related to contacting the aliens. There was the obvious fear that they would encounter a second Lavis Republic. But there was also the hope that whatever aliens were out there could serve as an ally against the Lilarobius. Some members of the public, and a handful of Administration Assembly delegates, were in favour of not contacting the aliens at all. This opinion was not shared by the Executive Council, with Councilman Vance remarking that “The aliens are there no matter what, so there is no use putting our head in a black hole and hope they don’t notice us.”

Another factor complicating the issue was distance and time. It had taken five years for humanity to even be able to speak to the Lilarobius, and they had practically been on humanity’s doorstep. Their hostility had a lot to do with the delays, as communications with the Curator Order had been established relatively quickly. But any communication with the “Theta Aliens” would have to endure weeks of delay both ways. The fear in Stettin and the Executive Council was that establishing communications could take a decade.

They couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

A few hours after sending the First Contact protocols, the entire crew of the Johannes von Gmunden experienced what the ship’s medical doctor later described as “a shipwide panic attack, combined with elements of mild to severe psychosis.” Following this, the alien ship made contact with the Johannes. They were the Beldross Hive.

The Beldross were a reptilian species hailing from the world of Fenn’Halor. A gestalt consciousness (though more commonly referred to as a hive mind), the entire species acted as one massive superorganism. One facet that human scientists soon noted was that the entire species displayed a significant degree of radiation damage. When asked about this, the Beldross were quite forthcoming in that their homeworld had at some point suffered catastrophic nuclear devastation. When asked why and how this had happened, they did not know. It had happened “before our light”, and the Beldross paid little attention to the past.
​

While the Beldross were quite forthcoming in that they considered humanity a potential threat (the feeling was mutual), they were willing to engage in diplomatic relations. As such, less than 24 hours after sending the First Contact protocols, the Johannes von Gmunden forwarded a message from a Beldross drone. In it, it greeted the German Kaiser[1] in garbled, but grammatically perfect, German.

Back on Earth, reactions were mixed. While everyone was happy to not have another Lavis Republic to deal with, the Beldross Hive was not exactly welcoming. The Nordic comedian Pål Engersrud captured the atmosphere when he remarked that “at this point, I’ll be happy to meet normal, non-murderous, non-reptile-slash-bug aliens. They don’t even have to be wise and all-knowing, or fix all our problems or anything like that. If we get some sentient slug aliens and they say ‘Hi. We don’t want to kill you’, then I’ll be ecstatic.”

Despite this, the SSA wasted no time in setting up diplomatic relations. The Administration Assembly elected the New England diplomat Veronica Sharpe to serve as plenipotentiary. She was dispatched to Chang´e, where the Liúxīng was just making planetfall, in an effort to shave days off the communications lag. Efforts were also made to hasten the colonisation of Shuckon IV, which would further reduce the lag.

Communication lag, however, did not seem to affect the Beldross. Whenever a message reached a system with a single Beldross drone, they would have an answer ready within hours, sometimes even less. Furthermore, the Beldross did not appear to have any system for ferrying messages between systems. Xenologists and physicists were fascinated by the implications, with half a dozen hypotheses about how the Beldross did it. Quantum entanglement was the most popular explanation, but that did not account for the effects the crew of the Johannes von Gmunden experienced. Another question was if it was a technological solution, or somehow biological. Either way, it could solve a lot of humanity’s communications problems.

The Beldross were not the only life that humanity encountered in 2131. Indeed, it proved a busy and exciting year for Earth xenologists.

The first encounter happened only two months after first contact with the Beldross. The Bernhard Walther entered the Quamm system and encountered what was initially believed to be erratically moving asteroids. It didn’t take long before the ‘asteroids’ responded with hostility to the Bernhard Walther. At first, the crew wondered if they’d encountered a hostile alien species, but further study revealed them to be more akin to highly territorial animals.

The Space Amoebae[2] were another instance of ‘impossible life’. The previous three decades had greatly expanded humanity’s understanding of how and where life could flourish. There were some hypotheses that they weren’t naturally occurring, but some ‘leftover’ from one of the previous cycles.
​

The Bernhard Walther, forced to retreat from the territorial creatures, found itself in the neighbouring Pildram system where they made another discovery.

The continental world of Pildram I was home to the Mollarnock, a machine-age civilisation. In many ways they shared elements with the Cormanthani Pithria IV. Both races were largely secular in outlook and shared an intense distrust of any out-group individuals. The biggest difference between them was that while the Cormanthani revered military might and the warrior, the Mollarnock were far more ambivalent. If this was related to the much greater destructive potential of their industry or some cultural difference was a subject of much debate.
​

The discovery of the Mollarnock resurrected the almost two-decades-old Pithria debates. The Lavis war, and the subsequent arms race, had prevented any ongoing study of the Cormanthani. Most of the SSA’s funding went into the fleet, and what was left over was spent establishing colonies on Chang´e and Shuckon IV. Despite this several Assembly members advocated for establishing the required infrastructure in the Pithria pocket.

The motion passed with a slim majority, despite the Great Powers all voicing their disapproval of the plan and making furious backroom deals. The truth was that humanity was facing a severe energy deficit, and several Assembly members secretly hoped to address this by ‘civilising’ the Cormanthani and using the vast mountain ranges as a source of wind power. Meanwhile, both the people and government of Canada despaired as the hope of a Canadian colony slipped another decade away.

But it wasn’t only the Bernhard Walther finding new life. Humanity had taken control of the Eissam system following the Lavis war. While the primary motivation had been to allow for more defence in depth, it had also opened up a hyperlane towards the galactic core. The Andreas Stöberl, which had spent the war picking through the remains of destroyed Lavis warships, was sent to investigate where this path led. When they entered the Roschon system, they were greeted by a single warship waiting for them.

After a brief moment of terror, the warship contacted the Andreas Stöberl. In a message transmitted in German, Russian, Chinese and English, they were informed that they had reached the borders of the Rixi Chroniclers.

The Rixi were, much like the Lilarobius, a species that had reached the stars in the previous cycle. And while the death and destruction of the previous cycle had turned the Lilarobius to violence and xenophobia, the Rixi had instead turned inwards. There they were content to study the multitudes of life the galaxy had to offer.
​

An old and powerful civilisation, the Rixi had chartered the stars when humanity was still in the palaeolithic era. In the millennia since then, they had seen entire species rise to dominance, only to be snuffed out; sometimes by others, sometimes by themselves. Following the last great cycle of extinction, a sense of ennui had overtaken the entire species. Human diplomats tried in vain to ingratiate themselves with the Rixi. They would not be a threat to Humanity, but they would not lift a feather to save it either.

With the discovery of the Beldross and the Rixi, Human expansion spinwards was effectively blocked. Though this was not seen as a critical issue by the SSA as there was far more space than Humanity could effectively make use of.
​

After establishing contact, the Rixi warship departed. It had given the captain of the Andreas Stöberl strict instructions not to follow it, as any ship that entered Rixi space without permission would be destroyed. As the single Rixi warship had enough firepower to equal the entire United Fleet, following was out of the question. The Andreas Stöberl was about to return home when it received a request to investigate the neighbouring Gathrica system.

The Gathrica system bordered the Rixi, but was not among the systems claimed by them. As the Andreas Stöberl had made its way corewards, the star had appeared to shrink. This despite the star seeming otherwise normal. Such an anomaly warranted investigation and the Andreas Stöberl set course for the Gathrica system.

​

[1] - The Beldross were informed that Kaiser Wilhelm did not represent humanity as a whole and did not possess any political authority, but they were quite insistent. The main hypothesis concerning this was that he was the ‘queen’ of the mostly German crewed Johannes von Gmunden.

[2] - The name stuck in the public’s imagination, much to the chagrin of xenologists everywhere, who instead preferred Spatium natator. Despite their best efforts, Space Amoebae would enter documentaries and even some textbooks.

 

[Side]

Leviathans
​

October 2133 - Andreas Stöberl - Roschon / Gathrica systems jump point

Artist’s interpretation of the Andreas Stöberl entering the Gathrica system. In reality, the ship never got this close.
(Art by @Xibin18)
​

Captain Nihal Özen launched herself up the central elevator shaft towards the bridge. The feeling of endlessly soaring in zero-g never got old. Sometimes, when she needed to think, she would launch herself from the personal quarters at the far front to the engineering department at the far rear. Then she would turn and launch herself back the other way. It was very therapeutic. While none of the crew had dared to mention it with her around, she knew they called it ‘swimming’, with the elevator shaft being dubbed the ‘swimming pool’. She liked it, so she’d adopted the name as well.

However, right now was not the time for swimming, and she grabbed the arrestor strap by the door to the bridge. She elegantly redirected her momentum into the open doorway and landed with her feet on the floor with the slightest thunk.

“Captain on the bridge,” Lieutenant Rot said. He was the only one to give her a salute. He was the only one obliged to. Herch and Weber were both strapped to their chairs and thus not required to get up. Zero gravity had forced some revisions to military protocol. And Drs. Glöckner and Vaccaro were civilians, so they probably couldn’t even give a proper salute.

Nihal launched herself over to the command chair and began strapping herself in. “How are we looking, Lieutenant?”
“Engineering is running final prep, Captain,” Rot said. “The scientific personnel are finding their seats as well.”

Nihal glanced over to the two scientists still floating on the command deck. They were talking shop as well, just a different kind of shop.

“So in total, Gathrica appears to have lost 3.7% of its mass compared to observation from Earth,” Vaccaro said.
“I can’t say I know too much about stars, but I know they’re big,” Glöckner said. “So I’m guessing that’s quite a lot.”
“Massive. We don’t have any models that can account for a loss of mass that great. If it were to continue then… Well, honestly, we don’t know what would happen. We have some ideas, but without knowing what’s causing it they’re all guesswork.”

Nihal wasn’t surprised at seeing the two scientists on the bridge. Giuliano Vaccaro was the ship’s resident astrophysicist, so him being present when they were looking at a weird star was a given. Dr. Adrian Glöckner, on the other hand, was a xenologists. Yet despite this, he was always on the bridge when they jumped to a new system. Nihal had wondered about it in the past, and curiosity was getting the better of her.

“Dr. Glöckner,” she said. He turned awkwardly in zero-G to face her. “I mean no offence, but why are you here? Your field is typically planetside.”
“Why wouldn’t I be here? If I’m here, I’ll be among the first humans to see this star with my own eyes.”
“We get to see a lot of new stars.”
“That we do. And I want to see them all. I spent a lot of time and effort to get here, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

The klaxon sounded, warning everyone to find their seats. Engineering was already spooling up the drive. Nihal watched as Glöckner found a seat and strapped himself in. There was no denying that he was an incredibly driven man, but part of that scared her. She’d heard about the work he did during the war. She knew why they had done it and why it was necessary, but it still felt a bit unsettling.

“Captain?” Lieutenant Rot brought her back to reality. “We are ready to jump.”
“Understood. Start final countdown.”

The one-minute warning flashed on every screen aboard the ship as the drive got ready to tear open the hyperlane. When the number reached zero she felt the familiar, nauseating sensation. It didn’t take long before they were running the post-jump checks to make sure everything was working.

Dr. Vaccaro wasted no time getting to work.

“That’s insane! Look, the corona is almost gone. What on Earth could have caused this?”
“Whatever it is, I don’t think you’ll find it on Earth,” Glöckner said, which earned him a chuckle from Vaccaro.

Nihal sent a glance towards their screen. The star looked weird, anaemic almost. She couldn’t say what was wrong, but it wasn’t like any other star she’d seen during her time aboard the Andreas Stöberl.

“Wait, what is that?” Glöckner asked.
At first, Nihal thought it was a bug crawling across the display but she soon realised that it was on several different feeds.
“I don’t know, but that thing should have been reduced to charcoal ages ago.” Vaccaro sounded giddy. “Wait, it’s doing something.”

Nihal was about to release the ship from action stations and let the scientists have their fun when several radiation alarms began howling. She pulled up the alert on her screen and it didn’t look good. They were already deep in the yellow zone and steadily rising towards the red. She was mentally running through the potential sources when another alert sounded. This showed an alarming temperature spike. With her stomach sinking into a black hole, she keyed engineering.

“Engineering here,” Chief Engineer Martin responded. Nihal could hear the stress breaking through his voice.
“This is the Captain. What’s the reactor status?”
“The reactor’s fine. We’re at 13.7% power, and the temperature was dropping steadily until… this happened.”
“Any other systems malfunctioning?”
“None that could cause a reaction like this, but I’ve got my boys checking everything.”
“Keep me updated,” Nihal said, rather redundantly, and cut the connection.

She was running through other potential causes when a wave of heat swept through the ship, accompanied by a cacophony of alerts. She didn’t need to see the temperature alert to know they were in trouble. Back during the Lavis War, she’d served as a weapons officer aboard the Primrose when an enemy round had destroyed their heat sink. The heat had almost cooked off their ammunition load. The Andreas Stöberl fortunately didn’t carry weapons, but that was a very narrow silver lining on a very cloudy day.

“Look at that,” Dr. Glöckner said. She knew the tone. He used it whenever he studies some horrific apex predator. Reluctantly she glanced over to his station.

He’d zoomed in on the tiny bug ting, and she realised just how massive it had to be. Probably the size of a large moon. It was in a low orbit around the star. So low that the heat and gravitation would have torn most things into a thin ring of matter. But instead it seemed to thrive, sucking the star into itself.

“Look, it’s expelling stellar matter,” Vaccaro said, an even mix of horror and fascination in this voice.
“Right at us,” Nihal said. She keyed engineering as the temperature alert maxed out.
“Engineering,” Martin said. Any pretences of keeping the stress under wraps were gone.
“We need to leave. Spool up the drive.”
“We’ll need at least fifteen minutes for that.”
“I know. We’ll just--”

A new alert sounded. The worst one. There were fluctuations in the reactor’s magnetic containment bottle.

Martin was gone. To do whatever he could, no doubt. She remembered watching the Friedrich der Große just disappear from her sensor array back during the war. She looked back to her screen and the creature orbiting the sun. There was precious little she could do. The plastic in one of the screens was starting to bubble from the heat.

A new alert informed her that engineering was trying to dump the reactor core. That would prevent catastrophic reactor failure, but would leave them without enough power to do a jump. Another alert told her that the black box drone had been deployed. That meant the ship’s systems thought the ship was doomed. A dark part of her mind agreed with it.

Another wave of stellar matter hit the ship and now the radiation alert also maxed out. A message from engineering came in.
“Captain speaking.”
“The reactor dump failed,” Martin said. “The heat caused the mechanism to jam. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Thank you for your hard work.”
“It has been a pleasure serving under you, Captain.”
“The pleasure has been all mine.”

Martin cut the link, and Nihal watched a new alert informing her of imminent reactor failure. She looked up and saw Glöckner stare captivated at the screen. He didn’t seem aware that his soft-suit was melting.

“Good God… It’s eating the star.”

* * *
​

On the 10th of October, 2133, the Andreas Stöberl jumped to the Gathrica system. It was supposed to be a standard jump to study the anomalous readings of the system’s star. Instead, they found a creature of unfathomable power.

The Stellar Devourer, as it soon came to be known, was yet another example of life that only a few decades earlier would have been considered impossible. While the creature itself was terrifying enough alone, its existence opened the possibility for other creatures of equal, or greater, power.
​

The creature destroyed the Andreas Stöberl in minutes, with only the ship’s black box[1] surviving to tell what had happened. The images horrified the public as they mourned the loss of the crew. The civilian component had been some of the finest minds from around the world, while the military component was mostly comprised of veterans from the Lavis War. All around the world state funerals were held.

Among the dead was Dr. Adrian Glöckner, one of the first graduates of the Kaiser Otto IV Technical University’s xenology course. Dr. Glöckner had been a prominent member of the scientific community, hosting several acclaimed documentaries about alien life on Neu Brandenburg and Grossbayern. However, his reputation took a hit when it was revealed that he’d been involved in the autopsies of Lilarobius corpses recovered from destroyed enemy warships in Alpha Centauri.​

As people mourned and dealt with the existential dread the Stellar Devourer induced, the SSA tried to learn more. First, they contacted the Rixi Chroniclers, asking why they had not warned of the danger that sat on their doorstep. After several attempts to get an answer, the Rixi merely responded that “It was not [their] duty to keep the minor races safe.”

The Curator Order was more forthcoming, but lacked concrete details about the creature’s origins. Apparently, the creature had been in a different part of the galaxy the last time it had been observed. The news that the creature could travel enormous distances was not encouraging.

​

The Stellar Devourer was not the only strange creature rousing humanity’s interest. The Russo-Nordic[2] expedition to Shuckon IV, now known as Russalka, was well underway. While Russian leaders (and, to be fair, much of the Russian populace) had dismissed the potential danger of the “Living Sea”, the loss of the Andreas Stöberl caused a reevaluation. With the expedition so far along it was doubtful that the ship would have enough supplies to make a fully ladened return voyage. The SSA needed answers and approved an in-depth study of the sea.

​

The expedition was comprised of crew members from the Johannes von Gmunden, which after making first contact with the Beldross had spent some time surveying the galactic rim. During their time they had discovered the life-bearing world of Thaaram III, close to the Beldross borders. The alpine world was rather small and poorly suited to Human life. It was, however, quite suited to Beldross physiology and the collective made it quite clear that it considered Thaaram III theirs. The SSA, wanting to nurture peaceful relations with the Hive, acquiesced to their demands.

The Human - Beldross frontier. The SSA had already claimed several resource-rich systems along the rim and was more than willing to give up some relatively poor areas in the interest of good relations. The decision also had some strategic concerns, as the rim systems would be much easier to defend.​

This did leave the xenological section of the Johannes von Gmunden with precious little to do, and they were thus free to study the sea, at least until the Russians could take over. However, as the plans were being finalised, Julia Heinemann, a meteorologist, requested to be allowed to join. Her request did argue that her talents would be best put to work studying the strange world, but at times it dipped into ramblings about hearing her brother, who had died in an accident when Julia was eight. This worried the planners back on Earth. This was Julia’s third five-year tour aboard an exploration ship and it was still unclear if there were any long-term side-effects of faster-than-light travel. With some reluctance, her transfer was approved.

​

When the Russian colony ship arrived a year later, the expedition had found no immediate threat from the Living Sea and “Splashdown” was approved, establishing Humanity’s farthest colony. When the Johannes von Gmunden returned to collect its crew, Dr. Heinemann refused to leave, insisting that she had to “find her brother”. While her request to stay was approved, the KWO quietly decided that she would not be allowed on any future expeditions.

Her work was invaluable, and only a year into the colonisation of Russalka she would present significant findings in “psionic theory”, a theory of the mind that suggested that sentient minds could be linked with no regard of time or space. The theory was controversial and would a decade earlier have destroyed Dr. Heinemann’s career. But contact with the Beldross suggested that something like this existed, and if Humanity could discover its secrets then it would revolutionise every aspect of science.

​

While Russalka was turning the scientific community on its head, Chang'e was causing a headache for the SSA. As the colony was finding its footing, political malcontents were beginning to argue that the Space Security Administration should seek terms with the Lavis Republic. They argued that the war with the Lilarobius had been caused by the threatening posturing of Germany. This ignored the fact that the Ring Defence Fleet had a significant advantage in numbers during the First Battle of Alpha Centauri and that the Human fleets had been forced to withdraw.

It is not clear what caused this shift in attitude among the colonists. The most common explanation is that the colonists resented the fact that so much of the wealth and resources emerging from the colony were shipped back to Earth. Another theory pointed to the makeup of the colonists; most of them were some form of idealistic adventurer.

Regardless of the reason, the sentiment was not shared on Earth or the neighbouring colonies. The common refrain was that it was “just because they’re far away from the weeds”. The Chinese government were furious. As were the SSA, with denouncements in the Administration Assembly, and closed-door meetings of the Executive Council. However, no easy solution presented itself. Until the protesters handed it to them.

Guiying Chui, China’s representative to the Administration Assembly, delivered a particularly scathing denouncement during an open session of the Assembly. In it, she described the protesters as “a collection of self-interested bandits” and claimed that “they have no moral character”. When footage of her speech reached Chang'e it caused an uproar. Several protesters marched on the colonial administration building, seizing it and refusing to leave until Chui made a public apology. It had the opposite effect, as the SSA now had a legal foundation to take action.

Local security forces were instructed to retake the colonial administration and arrest any protesters found on site. They did this with ease and a minimum of violence (the most severe injuries were a broken arm and a concussion caused by a thrown bottle). Most protesters were only given minor punishments, fines or community service, but the leaders were shipped back to Earth to stand trial.

While the events worked out in favour of the Space Security Administration, it did significant damage to the organisation’s reputation, both among its opponents on Earth, but especially on Chang'e. Conspiracy theories would abound for years afterwards, suggesting that the local government had intentionally abandoned the administration building to lure the protesters into a trap. In truth, the local security forces had evacuated the building at the first sign of trouble.
​

The protesters planned to turn the trial into a public show. Unfortunately for them, the trial ended up coinciding with a far more momentous event.

On the 20th of October, 2137, a shuttle landed just outside Bern, Switzerland. Aboard were twelve Beldross drones, the Hive’s “delegation” to the newly established embassy. Equipped with environmental suits, the drones were transported to a specially built compound on the outskirts of the city. The road there was lined with spectators eager to get a glimpse of the first aliens to set foot on Earth[3]. While some bemoaned the Beldross’ strangeness, most were excited.

The embassy was a direct result of Humanity respecting the Beldross claim to Thaaram III. Prior to this, both parties had been somewhat suspicious of each other. And while neither trusted the other, both sides agreed that maintaining direct lines of communication was invaluable. To that end, a portion of the hive would relocate to Earth where they would maintain a direct link between Humanity and the Hive.

While the Beldross drones were not the most charismatic diplomats, they took their duties seriously. At any given time, several of them were touring Earth giving “presentations” to the public. These talks were often sources of unintentional comedy, such as one time when a nine-year-old girl asked what the Beldross did for fun. What followed was twenty minutes of the girl explaining the concept of ‘fun’ to the drone. Afterwards, it replied that the Beldross did not do “fun”.
​

The establishment of “normal” diplomatic relations with an alien race was a major PR victory for the SSA. While the Chang'e incident was still trumpeted by the organisation’s opponents, very few listened.

The Beldross arrival caused a surge in interest regarding space exploration and xenology not seen since the first images from Alpha Centauri III. This “alien-mania” was further fed when in late 2138 an observation post was established in the Pithria pocket and began sending back footage of the Cormanthani going about their lives. In the end, the ‘Humanists’ had won out, at least for now, in regards to how Humanity should deal with non-spacefaring life. Only passive observation methods were allowed, with strict rules limiting planetside activity.

While much of humanity marvelled at how strange, yet familiar the Cormanthani were, another matter was discussed behind closed doors. Signal intercept from the Lavis Republic suggested that they were in contact with another alien species. Details were scant, as the Lilarobius didn’t put much effort into distinguishing between different species, describing them only as the “spinwards threat”[4]. The Executive Council were keen on making contact with this species, hoping for potential allies.

As the 2130s came to a close, Human spirits were remarkably high. Humanity was the most united it had ever been and not only had it persevered in the face of an existential threat, it was thriving. The colonies were not only providing fresh resources, but also new jobs. Each year thousands departed Earth, many of them permanently.

The decade would later become known as the “Quiet Decade” thanks to the perceived calm and lack of conflict. While not seen as such at the time, the events of the 2140s would put them into stark contrast. The decade also marked the end of the early space age, as the following years would radically alter Humanity’s position in the galaxy.

A new era was coming, and Humanity would not have to wait long for it.


[1] - All exploration craft carried an automated drone similar to the communication buys found throughout human space. When a ship received sufficient damage, or was missing life signs from its crew, the drone would return to the jump point the ship had entered from and jump. Once through, it would transmit the ship’s final moments through high-priority channels.

[2] - The Nordic Union had been involved in the project thanks to their extensive maritime experience with projects such as the North Sea Wall and the ecological restoration in the Baltic Sea. While Russalka did have a handful of islands and archipelagos, these would not provide enough land area and were often located far from the areas richest in resources. To deal with this, much of Russalka’s population centres would be underwater or in great, floating city ships.

[3] - While the Yldar of the Curator Orders had often been in orbit around Earth, none of them had set foot on the planet. Centuries of living in space had made them incapable of living outside of a low-gravity environment.

[4] - Humanity was considered the “Anti-spinwards threat”, while the Beldross were the “Rimwards threat”. There was little mention of the Rixi, but most analysts suspected they had made contact.

---

Sorry for taking so long with this one. There wasn't a whole lot happening in-game, so I had to get creative. The next part will be more eventful.

 

[Side]

Two Miscalculations
​

June 2141 - Folvaris Ward - Heron suburbs

A pair of Ring Defence Fleet corvettes performing intercept drills. The RDF held a position of great esteem on the Ring, and the government would frequently showcase its abilities.
(art by Neil Blevins)
​

“I feel like the day you sprouted was like a lifetime ago. It went by so fast.

I need to go, but know that you’ve been with me every day.

Stay strong. Don’t be afraid. Everything will be okay, I promise.

Know that I did what I could to protect you.”

Hazel looked like they wanted to say something, but a garbled voice off-screen said something, so Hazel reached out and shut off the recording. Linden was left watching their own reflection in the dark screen. Finding the silence oppressive they pressed play on the second video.

A moment later Hazel appeared again, this time wearing the aspirant uniform of the Ring Defence Fleet. They floated in a room with two dozen others, all wearing the same uniform. They spoke in unison.

“I solemnly swear, to devote my life and abilities, in the defence of the Lavis Republic. To defend the Lilarobius Constitution and to safeguard the Ring from all threats, external and internal.

From the core of Lav, to the rim of the galaxy.

For as long as I shall live.”

The room went silent. Some of the aspirants looked elated, others serious. Hazel was among those who looked worried.

The video ended, and Linden once again saw their own reflection in the screen. This time there wasn’t another video to distract them, so Linden floated off. As they did, their gaze fell on the picture Linden’s grandparents had hung on the wall.

It showed a much younger Hazel and a newly sprouted Linden. Anchoring Linden was Alder, wearing the officer’s uniform of the Ring Defence Fleet.

Linden had no memory of their stamen. Alder had been present at both battles with the Human threat. According to Hazel, the first battle had almost been a great victory, but a Human trick had forced them to pull back.

Alder had not returned from the second battle.

Linden had often wondered how they had died. Had it been quick and painless? Or had they been trapped on a ship with failing life-support? Had their final thoughts been of Hazel? Or maybe Linden?

It was a pointless exercise. There was no way to know how Linden’s stamen had died. And now their pistil too was aboard a warship, about to fight a second battle with the Humans.

Linden wondered where it had gone wrong. At first, the news had been good. The Ring Defence Fleet had taken the Humans by surprise and taken control of their first defensive line. But then the news stopped.

Or at least the official news did. Unofficial ones didn’t paint a pretty picture. When the RDF returned to Lav, their numbers were halved and those that did return were in poor shape.

The Gardens of Justice had clamped down hard on anything it deemed “defeatist”, but with the shipyards working constantly and a massive recruitment drive, it wasn’t hard to read between the lines.

There was no shortage of people volunteering to fight, but Hazel hadn’t been one of them. But when the RDF approached them based on their work as a systems engineer, Hazel had agreed. So Linden had moved to their grandparents. Exactly why Hazel had agreed was something Linden had asked in their last message. So far there hadn’t been a reply. Not yet.

“Linden! Get out here!” Cypress shouted. They sounded agitated, maybe even excited. Linden had never known either of their grandparents to get particularly worked up. Floating outside, they found Cypress and Larch together with a group of neighbours. All of them were staring at the sky.

“Look! There’s another one!” Cypress shouted, to the ooohs and aaahs of the others.
Linden looked up and saw a distant fireball, bright as Lav itself, fade. A fusion reactor losing containment.

“There’s another!” Larch shouted. “We’re really pounding the aliens!”

That didn’t sound quite right. “Didn’t White Pine say there were going to stop them outside the Ring?”
“That’s right, child,” one of the neighbours said. “That way our fleet will keep the Humans far away and you safe from harm.”
“But how can we see them unless they’re inside the ring.”

Everyone got quiet. The silence was punctuated by another fusion detonation in the sky. This one was especially large. Nobody cheered this time.

One of the neighbours lost buoyancy and collapsed to the ground. Their family scurried over to help them. Another neighbour started calling for their children. Another flew away at speed, to where, Linden wasn’t sure.

Larch grabbed hold of Linden. “We have to go!”
Linden wanted to ask where to, but there was a much more important question on their mind.
“Hazel is dead, right? My pistil…”

Their grandparents’ silence was all the confirmation Linden needed.

As Larch pulled them back inside, Linden looked up at the sky, just in time to see another ship’s reactor detonate.

* * *
​

On the 30th of January, 2140, the Eissam defensive station detected thirty-one hyperlane ruptures from the Sidor system. While the Lilarobius had occasionally sent ships into the Eissam system during the preceding decade, these had always been “civilian” and only a single ship at a time. Thirty-one ships could only mean one thing, and a priority message was sent to Earth.

The confirmation came not soon later. The entire Ring Defense Fleet emerged into Eissam and broadcast a simple message: Humanity’s stay of execution was over.’

Following the formal declaration of war, the Lavis fleet continued to transmit messages. Most of these were barely coherent threats or drawn-out fantasies about what would happen once the RDF was in Earth orbit. Years later it would come to light that the Lavis Republic had held a “Messages to the Aliens” campaign, where Lavis citizens could record threats to be broadcast at any alien fleet.
​

The declaration of war caught the Space Security Administration somewhat flatfooted. Budgetary concerns had led to the Home Fleet (formerly known as the United Fleet) being docked in Sol. This led to a reversal of the situation during the First Lavis War, where Humanity had leveraged shorter supply lines into a strategic advantage. It was clear to everyone, especially those on Eissam Station, that help would not arrive in time.

As shore leave was cancelled and the Home Fleet prepared for war, panic began spreading, especially on Earth and Neu Brandenburg. In the decade since the previous war, people had somewhat forgotten the Lavis Republic as Humanity had encountered alien species which, while not exactly friendly, were at least willing to find some common ground. With a new war, the threat returned with a vengeance to most people’s minds.

It was in this climate that the German representative to the Executive Council, Admiral Konrad Wolff, delivered his famous comment during a press conference:

“Some of the members of the press are asking if we have made any miscalculations regarding the Lilarobius. They are not wrong to ask these questions. So far in this war, there have been two miscalculations; one small and one great. The first one is ours. We should have kept our fleet in a state where we could assist our defensive bastions. We have failed in this, and now a great number of brave men and women will pay the ultimate price for our failure.

While this failure is great, and will haunt those responsible for the rest of their lives, it is the Lavis Republic leadership who will truly come to regret this day.

The enemy fields thirty-one corvettes. This is a great number, true. More than our twenty-six. But Naval intelligence suggests that the Lilarobius think that is the extent of our fleet, and that they believe our nine Ocelot-class destroyers are mere supply ships. Rest assured, they will come to regret this.

The Lavis Republic may have started another war, but we will ensure they don’t get to start a third one. The Council has discussed it, and the Assembly supports us. This time we’re not stopping until the Lilarobius threat is contained.”

The Ocelot class gunships were an evolution of the previous Edelweiss and Myrtenaster designs. While the ships carried some long-range weapons, a significant portion of its weapons were close-range autocannons, specifically designed to chew through RDF corvettes.
​

In a way, the SSA was far more ready for war than it let on, even if the Lavis attack had caught them off guard. In documents that wouldn’t be declassified for half a century, it was revealed that the Executive Council had entered talks with the Beldross Hive concerning a joint invasion of Lilarobius territory. The talks never went anywhere, as the Beldross didn’t consider the Lavis Republic much of a threat[1]. However, later Lavis apologists have claimed that the Lilarobius learned of these talks and that the invasion was defensive in nature[2].

However, all of this mattered little to the 237 individuals manning Eissam Station. Not only was it clear to them that help wouldn’t arrive, they were also well aware that the Lilarobius would not take any prisoners. Amid their final preparations, the station’s crew sent their final messages back to Earth. Most of these were teary-eyed farewells to friends and family. The station’s commander, Captain Sabina Emiliya Vasilev, sent a message to the Russian President, saying: “I have no pithy comments. I just pray that you make this worth it.”

The beginning of the Siege of Eissam Station. Eissam station would go down in history alongside many other final stands, such as Thermopylae, the Alamo and the Chasseurs Ardennais’ defence against the Commune of France.​

There was never any doubt as to the outcome of the Siege of Eissam Station, but the ferocity of the fighting surprised both sides. By the time the station’s weapons had been disabled, five Lavis corvettes had been destroyed or scuttled. When the Lilarobius forces docked with the station they found themselves embroiled in what can best be described as a guerrilla war, as the surviving crew used side passages, service tunnels and sometimes the outside of the station to move around and launch surprise attacks on the enemy. In the end, the Lavis forces resorted to depressurising the station section by section until the final thirty-six surviving crew members launched a suicidal frontal attack.

While all 237 Humans manning the station were killed, it is not clear how many Lilarobius were killed. Conservative numbers put their losses at 150-200, while some put the number at three times that. Either way, such losses go a long way to explain the reduced efficiency of the Ring Defence Fleet in the ensuing fleet battle.

The Lavis Republic had only held Eissam for a week when the Home Fleet arrived in the system. At this point, they had only restored some of the station’s weapons to working order and were still patching up damage to their ships. The moment the Home Fleet arrived a flurry of encrypted communication broke out among the Lavis ships. The commander of the Home Fleet, Admiral Xian Shen, noted that “It seems the weeds have realised the gravity of their miscalculation”.

The opening shots of the Battle of Eissam. While the captured Eissam station would provide some support, the fire was sporadic and inaccurate as the Lilarobius struggled to make the Human weapons fire on their former masters.
​

The Battle of Eissam would be the most one-sided battle of the war. Exactly how many ships the Ring Defence Fleet lost is a matter of some debate[3], but most agree that the Lavis Republic lost around half its fleet in a matter of hours. In return, only one Human ship, the Eisenhut, was lost. And even then the ship was abandoned in an orderly fashion.

Admiral Shen then turned her attention to Eissam Station. Using the Lilarobius’ own tactics against them, she managed to retake the station without excessive loss of Human life. The main difference between Shen’s assault and the original was that Shen offered the Lilarobius a chance to surrender. None of them took it.

In the aftermath of the Battle of Eissam, the war quieted down a little as both sides made efforts to repair and rearm. This period also saw the mobilisation and outfitting of the 1st Expeditionary Army. While the Japanese Empire still supplied the majority of the manpower, over the previous decade this had been supplemented with assets from the various Great Powers, including combined arms drones and the latest command and control network. While the Japanese outnumbered any other nation five times to one, it was estimated that any Great Power battalion could deploy twelve times the firepower compared to its Japanese counterpart.

German Raumjägers on exercise. Germany had maintained a small contingent of troops trained for boarding action and zero-g combat since the earliest days of the Raumstreitkräfte. They saw a massive expansion following the First Lavis War.
(Art by Juan Pablo Roldan)
​

The Japanese contingent was a sore spot for both military and civilian planners. The Japanese military was strictly hierarchical, with very little opportunity for soldiers on the ground to deviate from orders based on the situation on the ground. This, alongside a focus on massed infantry assaults, was in stark contrast to pretty much every other military doctrine on Earth. Most SSA civilian leaders considered them a liability, while military commanders considered them a waste of logistics. However, the Japanese troops held a central position in all invasion plans.

It was expected that any landing on the Ring would be met with fierce resistance. This, combined with intelligence suggesting that below ground level the Ring was a honeycomb of service tunnels and hatchways, kept military planners up at night. They feared not only the military difficulty in clearing the Ring, but also feared that excessive losses could lead to calls for peace. The Japanese contingent provided an easy solution to this problem.

Admiral Ikegoshi had spent the previous decade complaining that he had been robbed of a chance for glory during the previous war (while simultaneously emphasising that he and Japan had been critical in ensuring final victory). Now his Great Power counterparts offered to let his troops deal with “close-combat situations” and “military operations in urban terrain”, while they dealt with situations where “manoeuvre warfare” and “tactical flexibility” were more important. Admiral Ikegoshi agreed empathetically, writing to the Emperor that “Japan has been given a task of the highest honour and importance”. With that, thousands of Japanese conscripts were consigned to a meatgrinder long before any Human set foot on the Ring.

By the 23rd of January, 2141, almost a year after the start of the conflict, the Home Fleet was getting ready to start its counterattack. As it made final preparations, high-level diplomatic efforts finally paid off. The Beldross Hive agreed to a non-aggression pact with the Space Security Administration, allowing the Home Fleet to set sail without fear of a surprise attack on Humanity’s rimward systems.

Humanity had pursued a non-aggression pact with the Beldross for some time. It’s unclear what made the Beldross agree on the eve of the offensive. There are three main theories: a) the Beldross saw the destructive potential of the coming offensive, and wanted to ensure peace, b) the Beldross feared Human military might, and c) the Beldross wanted to foster an alliance with Humanity against another threat. Most historians argue that all three factors played a part in the decision.
​

With its rimward flank secured, the Home Fleet began its counterattack on the 27th of January. By pure chance, the Lavis Republic had decided to attempt retaking Eissam around the same time. The two fleets detected each other in the Sidor system between Lav and Eissam. Battle was not joined, as the Ring Defense Fleet turned immediately upon detecting the Home Fleet and returned to Lav.

The encounter caused great celebration both aboard the Home Fleet and on Earth. Not only were the Lilarobious unwilling to fight, their fleet only numbered eighteen ships, far less than what Humanity was fielding. Admiral Shen sent a message back to High Command saying “The weeds flee. I will follow them home with some weedkiller.”

This message caused something of a stir back on Earth. While calling the Lilarobious “weeds” was something accepted in even polite company[4], the timing caused a bit of a panic. Since the Home Fleet had departed, a video of Admiral Shen attending a meeting of the “Human Future Vanguard” had emerged. The Vanguard was explicit in calling itself a Human supremacist group, arguing that “[Humanity] must secure the existence of our people, and a future for our children”. While the Vanguard was somewhat vague on exactly how Humanity should achieve this, the subtext was clear. The Administration Assembly responded by hurriedly sending a very detailed document clarifying the rules of engagement, signed by the Executive Council.

Admiral Shen’s membership in the Human Future Vanguard had been known for quite some time, but seeing as she had never presented herself as a member of the military during any meetings she had not broken any of the rules of either the Raumstreitkräfte or the SSA military. The publicity boosted the Vanguard, which gained thousands of new members in the ensuing weeks.
​

By August, the Home Fleet was in position by the hyperlane to Lav. After sending a few recognisance probes through the hyperlane, Shen made a startling discovery: The Ring Defense Fleet was not holding position inside the Ring, close to the shipyards where the fleet could receive some supporting fire. Instead, it was parked at the exit of the hyperlane. This would reduce the amount of enemy fire, but also allowed her a powerful psychological weapon.

Travelling a hyperlane was effectively instant for the ship doing it, but for outside observers, it could take anywhere from two to five days. While there were some constants, the time was influenced by a number of factors, such as the number of ships travelling, total tonnage and a myriad of factors that made the exact travel time an exercise of educated guesswork. That meant the Ring Defense Fleet had no way of knowing exactly when the Home Fleet would arrive, and would thus need to be in a state of constant readiness. Over a long enough time, this would exhaust the Lilarobious crews manning the enemy ships. And while the Human crews would suffer from hyperlane nausea, this was something they would have to deal with no matter what.

So Admiral Shen spent the next nine days preparing for the battle, letting her crews rest and recover. Meanwhile, her counterparts were suffering from a lack of sleep.

On the 19th of August, Shen ordered the Home Fleet to jump. Emerging three days later, but instantaneously from her perspective, she engaged a fleet worn ragged by stress and anxiety.

The Ring Defense Fleet held firm for forty-seven minutes. When one of the Lavis warships tried pulling back following an ammunition detonation another captain interpreted it as a signal to retreat. This cascaded through the Lavis ranks, as some ships started pulling back amid orders to stand and fight. It didn’t take long before the rout was a fact, starting the “Tumble”.

The Battle of Lav, during the “Tumble” portion of the battle. As the Ring Defense Fleet retreated, the Home Fleet followed, firing as they did. This caused a strange, elongated combat envelope. As the Lavis ships took damage, they would often lose control and seem to “tumble” towards the Ring.
​

As the Home Fleet emerged inside the Ring for the first time they began to encounter more and more desperation from the defenders. A variety of civilian ships had been outfitted with weapons and sent to meet them. Most of them died without firing a shot. In the station’s shipyards lay a single, large warship, clearly inspired by the Ocelot-class gunships. The ship was still missing its engines and parts of the plating, but fired its guns while still in dock. It lasted a little longer, taking several railgun shots before suffering from reactor failure. In doing so it also caused severe damage to the station, disabling several of its guns.

When the Battle of Lav was over, the Home Fleet had lost six corvettes. The Lavis Republic lost its entire navy: eighteen corvettes, one partially built destroyer, a dozen converted civilian ships and the main shipyard was disabled.

The battle for orbital supremacy was over, and there was nothing to stop the Home Fleet from taking up a position above the Ring.

The Home Fleet begins suppressing air, sea and ground units on the Ring.
(art by LordDoomhammer)
​

[1] - The later discovery of significant Beldross fortifications along the Lavis border made it clear they were at least somewhat worried.

[2] - No evidence of this has been found in Lavis archives, though much of the government archives were destroyed during the war, some of it intentional, some accidental. The apologists consider this lack of evidence to be proof of a Human cover-up.

[3] - The issue arises from some of the ships reported destroyed in the battle’s after-action report appearing in later engagements, while some ships that military analysts assumed to have survived were never seen again.

[4] - The term had even been used in the Administration Assembly on a few occasions. The only official response was the Assembly President urging members to “use precise terminology”.

 

[Side]

Downfall
​

November 2143 - Centran Ward - Outskirts of Hollow Copse

Two Canadian soldiers overlook the remains of Rushing Spring while a pair of casevac shuttles prepare to land. The battle of Rushing Spring was the first time Humanity encountered determined resistance. It would not be the last. The lessons learned during the battle would influence how Humanity approached the rest of the war.
(Art by Vlado Krizan)
​

Linden dived for cover as the Human bomber-drones buzzed by just above the treetops. Linden knew they were Human. It had been weeks since they last saw a Lilarobius aircraft.

The drones banked right and released their payload. They didn’t stay around to observe the damage. The Humans had different drones for that. Linden couldn’t see the target, but the explosion was followed by dozens of secondary detonations. The rising plume of smoke was massive. Whatever they’d hit, it had to have been important.

Linden adjusted buoyancy and kept moving. The drones fortunately didn’t care about lone individuals. Larch and Cypress would never have let them go otherwise.

The town of Hollow Copse was in much worse condition compared to last time. The power transformer was a mess of twisted metal, and the gymnasium the Army had used as a command post was nothing more than a crater. Several bodies were rotting in the streets. From what Linden could tell, they’d been killed by small arms, not bombs. That was strange. The Humans hadn’t reached Hollow Copse. Not yet, anyway.

Linden did their best to ignore the bodies and move on. They soon found what they were looking for.

The doors to the grocery store were barred, but through some effort, Linden managed to pull themselves through a shattered window. The inside filled them with equal parts hope and despair. The shelves were barren, empty packages scattered about the place. But sprinkled among the debris were discarded or damaged nutrition packs. Some of them were probably still good. Or at least good enough.

Linden scooped up a few packs, even finding some battered water bottles that had rolled under a counter. But there was still one thing missing. The one thing they had to find above all else.

Making their way over to the electronics section, Linden’s heart soared. Rushing forwards, they grabbed the box and immediately realized it was empty. Linden was about to vent their frustration at a nearby shelf when a voice came from behind.

“Don’t move. Try anything funny and you’ll be leaking methane.” Linden froze instantly. “Turn around. Slowly.”

Linden did as they were told. To their immense relief, the person behind them wasn’t wearing a military uniform. Instead it was an older person, probably around the same age as Larch, wearing a dirty grocer’s apron. But they were holding a scattergun, and behind them Linden could see a pair peeking out from behind a doorway. Linden wondered if getting caught by the military would have been better.

“Drop the bag, looter.”
Linden did as they were told, letting the bag drop with a thud. They hoped the battered water bottles didn’t begin leaking.

“You’ve got some guts coming back here,” the grocer said.
“I haven’t been here before.”
The grocer started intently at Linden. Slowly, their expression of certainty gave way.
“Please,” Linden said. “My grandparents… they’re wilting. I need a sun lamp.”

The grocer let the scattergun drop ever so slightly before catching themselves.
“Where are your parents?” they demanded, raising the gun once more.
“Dead.” Linden didn’t elaborate, but nodded ever so slightly up.

It took a moment for the words to process, but the grocer’s aim dropped as the anger evaporated from their face. For a moment it looked like they would float over and comfort Linden, but they quickly composed themselves.
“Sorry kid, but the sun lamps are all gone. The military… requisitioned… them all a while back. Then the looters took most of what was left.”

Linden bobbed slightly. The store had been their only real idea. In hindsight it should have been obvious. The Humans had systematically destroyed the Ring’s transport infrastructure. So of course the shops had been stripped clean long ago.

Linden’s buoyancy shift must have been obvious, as the grocer drew nearer.
“Hey, cheer up, kid. Have you looked anywhere else? I know the field hospital got a lot of my stuff. You could try there. No guarantee they’ll give you anything though.”

Linden took a deep breath, recalling Hazel’s last message about being strong.
“No,” they said. “Where is it?”

“It’s in the Solar district. Go back out on the street and head towards the financial district until you reach the remains of the water tower. There you need to use the backstreets because a ‘militia’ has set up a ‘toll booth’ in the area. If you don’t--”

Linden scrambled to remember all the details. Their panic must have been evident, as one of the two who had been hiding in the doorway came forward.
“I can show them the way.”

The grocer wheeled around in an instant. “I told you to stay hidden, Juniper!”
“If they try to go alone they’ll just end up lost. Or dead. I can show them where to go, then head right back.” The grocer looked like they were about to shoot down the suggestion. “Please. Remember what Katsura said.”

For a moment the grocer looked at something far beyond the walls of the store. When they snapped back, there was a steely glint to their gaze.
“Fine. But straight there, then back. Promise?”
“Promise!”

Juniper wasted no time and grabbed Linden as they moved towards the broken window. Linden only just managed to pick up the dropped bag as they left.

They moved down the street, further into Hollow Copse, making sure not to stray too far into the open. The streets were mostly empty, but Linden could see eyes following them from inside the buildings lining the street.

Linden studied their new travel companion. Juniper was about Linden’s age, maybe a little younger. They didn’t make eye contact a lot.
“The Humans killed your parents, right?” The question came right out of the blue.
“Um, yes. My stamen died during the first war. My pistil died defending the Ring.”

Juniper got quiet for a little while.
“I’m a little jealous, you know. About your parents being killed by Humans. I think… I think that would be easier. To deal with.”
“What do you mean?”

Juniper stopped dead in their tracks and turned to face Linden.
“The Humans didn’t kill my pistil.”

An awkward silence settled over them as they moved onwards, past the remains of a destroyed water tower. Ahead, Linden saw a barricade stretching across the street. Or the remains of one. A dozen corpses littered the street and a group of soldiers were trying to clear the barricade so a convoy of trucks could move past. Several of the soldiers were wounded. Most of them looked dejected and forlorn.

“That’s the toll booth, or at least it was,” Juniper said as the first truck got through and moved past them.
They crept closer until they found one soldier anchored to a lightpost. They were staring off into the distance.
“Um… excuse me,” Juniper said.

It took a moment for the soldier to react to their presence. When they did, they scowled at them.
“What?”
“What happened here?”
“A bunch of thugs thought they were tough guys. They weren’t.”

“Wasn’t the army holding Marchwood Point?” Linden asked.
The soldier stared at Linden for a moment, then glanced up at the passing convoy. Several of the trucks were carrying wounded soldiers. Most of them were bandaged, but it was their eyes that caught Linden’s attention. Hollow… unfocused… hopeless.
Wounded, but not enough to be out of the fight, Linden realized. They looked away when they spotted a few soldiers around their own age.

“Sixth Company is still holding Marchwood Point,” the soldier said. “For all the good it does us. It was a feint. The Humans’ real target was the Firvin River. They crossed it two hours ago. You get what that means, right kid?”

Linden’s brain worked overtime, trying to place fragmentary unit positions within the local geography. The answer wasn’t pretty.

“We’re surrounded.”
“Yup…” The soldier looked inappropriately serene. “The Humans hit us hard before we even knew about them crossing the Firvin. We didn’t stand a chance. Sixth Company stayed behind to buy us time to get away.” Their voice turned to a hollow laugh. “Heh… Get away…”

Bright white streaks came from the sky, striking the ground with tremendous fury. Orbital bombardment.

“Well, I guess the end of Sixth Company is fast approaching. The Humans will be here soon. They’re damn quick once they achieve a breakthrough.” The soldier sounded quite okay with that.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” Juniper asked. Linden shivered. Their tone was far too demanding.

The soldier wobbled. “Surrounded. No ammo. No reinforcements. Not much we can do.”
“There has to be something!”

The soldier’s eyes grew manic. Linden didn’t like it one bit. They reached out for Juniper, but it was too late.
“Oh, there is very much something I can do.” They pulled their sidearm from the holster. “And I very much intend to do it.”

Linden got hold of Juniper, but the soldier didn’t hesitate. They placed the gun to their central stem and fired. The shot ripped through the soldier, splattering Juniper in chlorophyll.

Linden pulled Juniper away as best they could as the soldier’s body deflated and sunk to the ground. The air had the telltale stink of methane. The convoy didn’t stop. A few soldiers looked down as they passed, but beyond that there was no reaction. Only Juniper did, staring at the corpse while chlorophyll still dripped from them.

“I have to get back,” they said, finally looking away from the soldier. “I’m sorry. I have to go back and warn my family. The Humans… The Humans will be here soon.”
“That’s fine,” Linden said, trying to salvage what they could from the situation. “Where’s the field hospital?”
Juniper waved their anchor further down the street.
“Thank you,” Linden said, hoping the directions would be sufficient. But Juniper was already flying off in the opposite direction.

The field hospital was easy to find. For all the wrong reasons.

The convoy had been transporting those still able to fight. Those not able were taken to the hospital, and they vastly outnumbered the former group.

The hospital was based out of a theatre, but the wounded had spilt out into the square in front of it. It was covered in cots holding the wounded. Some didn’t even have cots, instead lying on the ground with only a blanket between them and the pavement.

Linden had imagined there would be a lot more people screaming in agony at the hospital. Instead, it was eerily quiet. The heavily wounded were all unconscious, zoned out on painkillers. The lightly wounded just sat there, dim, hollow eyes staring out. Out towards the advancing Humans.

In the distance, the orbital bombardment that had pounded Marchwood Point stopped. Linden was running out of time.

They moved across the square and into the theatre. Getting inside was easy. With the hustle and bustle of people moving in and out, there was no real security. Most of the security was probably preparing for a final stand. Or dead.

Once inside, Linden quickly realized that those they had thought were heavily wounded were in fact not. Inside were rows and rows of cots, all holding the dead and the dying. Linden didn’t need to be a doctor to know most of them wouldn’t survive.

Making their way along the cots, Linden found a storage room filled with medical supplies and a handful of battered old props. It didn’t take long to find a small pile of sun lamps. All of them were the same model as the box Linden had found at the store.

Almost floating into the sky with elation, Linden shoved the lamp into their bag and hurried out of the building. They were almost at the door when someone grabbed them and slammed them into the wall.
“Stealing from a hospital, even as the Humans are beating down our gates?! You are a real piece of work, you know that?”

Linden, still reeling from the impact, looked up and saw an old soldier wearing the uniform of the military police. Their face was scarred with burn marks and their anchor ended in a stump. Both injuries looked recent.

“High Councillor White Pine was quite clear: treason against the Republic at this most desperate hour must be dealt with harshly!” The MP dragged Linden towards the door. “The Captain will decide your fate. If you’re lucky you’ll get to redeem yourself against the Human killers.”
“Please, I just need a sun lamp! My grandparents are--”

The MP slammed Linden into the wall again, opened the door and threw them outside. Linden hit a lamppost which knocked the buoyancy out of them. Sinking towards the ground, Linden heard the tinkle of broken glass from inside their bag.

Linden didn’t dare move. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. Moreso than before.

The MP didn’t pick Linden back up, or slam them into the pavement once more. That was strange. After what felt like minutes, Linden dared to look up.

The MP hung in the air, seemingly frozen in place. Their eyes were transfixed on something on the other side of the square. Slowly, Linden turned to look.

The vehicle wasn’t one Linden had seen before. It was clearly military in nature, but it wasn’t designed with Lilarobius bodies in mind. Next to the vehicle stood a figure.

Bipedal, with two rigid protrusions extending from its torso, it looked weirdly elongated. Imposing even. Linden realized they were much taller than the vids had implied.

The Human stood there watching them. Every Lilarobius still conscious stared back. It was wearing a face mask that covered the lower parts of its face, but the eyes were still visible. Cold, dead eyes of white with blue disks in them that darted around. They lacked the warm glow of Lilarobius' eyes. For a moment Linden wondered how they were even able to see without the glow.

It took a moment for Linden to realize it wasn’t alone. The same strange, elongated figures moved in the shadows of the surrounding buildings. Linden counted a dozen. Probably more.

A gunshot rang out and the Human reached for its weapon, though it didn’t seem too concerned. Linden turned around for the source and saw the MP fall to the ground with a bullet hole in their central stem. Their sidearm hung limply from one tentacle. The smell of methane washed over Linden.

They looked back at the alien and their eyes met. The Human’s gaze bored into Linden as it began walking closer.

* * *
​

It only took seven hours between the last shot of the Battle of Lav and the first shot of the Siege of Lav. Admiral Shen was very keen on “getting shots on target” as soon as possible in an effort to maintain maximum pressure on the Lavis Republic.

Despite this, she still had to secure the system’s shipyard which was still somewhat operational despite having a ship’s reactor fail inside its dockyard. She also had to send rescue crews to the four corvettes that had been destroyed, but had not suffered from reactor failure. She had been instructed to do the same for any Ring Defence Fleet ships that had survived reasonably intact, but Shen was clear that she did not consider this a high priority.

The initial bombardment was sporadic and patchwork. While naval intelligence had worked hard to gather as much information on the military situation, there was little information about Ringside infrastructure. Captain Schützmann of the Margay described it thus:

“For the first few days it was a scramble. The parts of the crew not currently busy would pour over orbital photographs, looking for anything that ‘looked important’. Once they found something, they would pass it on to the intelligence wonks who would determine if it was a legal target. Anything deemed acceptable was then sent to me and the Admiral for final approval. If it passed muster, we would level it.

Some of the men turned it into a game, with a scoreboard listing what ships had identified the most targets. By the time we left the Ring for a refit, I think the Margay was fourth on the scoreboard.”

As time went on, the orbital bombardment got more structured. The use of unmanned aerial drones assisted with reconnaissance and analysts developed a better understanding of Lilarobius infrastructure. The result was a systematic destruction of the Ring’s surface industry. Ponderosa Pine, who lived through the siege and later wrote the book ‘Endtimes: Our Final Days’, describes the escalation:

“At first it was almost harmless, an army base was destroyed here, a munition factory there. As long as you didn’t live right next to something that could threaten the Humans, you were quite safe. Naturally, we were confused by this, as we’d been told the Humans would start by levelling cities. We huddled in service tunnels inside the Ring, expecting every day to see the Humans come down and kill us.

Then, just as we were beginning to get used to the situation, the Humans began targeting infrastructure. We were already suffering from supply shortages. Those got much worse once the Humans began destroying roads and trains. They also targeted power and communication. And in the absence of clear news, rumours spread like wildfire.”

Despite this, Admiral Shen and the Executive Council were unsatisfied with the results. The Ring was, as feared, full of service tunnels far below the surface. These proved hard, if not impossible, to crack for the orbiting ships. This gave the SSA two options: starve out the Lilarobius[1], or land troops on the ring.

The Lilarobius were not entirely passive through this. While the Lavis Republic had not colonised any other worlds due to issues with the Lilarobian immune system, there were mining outposts and other installations with small populations found throughout the surrounding systems. These populations now faced a decision about what to do.

Some were desperate to drive Humanity away from the Ring. But without weapons they instead resorted to suicidal tactics. In the early days of the siege, a number of freighters, construction ships and courier boats would enter the Lav system and try to ram the Human ships. Every single attempt failed.

A Lilarobius construction ship that tried to ram the Home Fleet. It was destroyed by a pair of corvettes on picket duty before it came within 1 AU of the fleet. As the ships were civilian in nature, they did not possess the armour needed to stand up to Human weapons.
​

While some of the off-Ring Lilarobius were willing to die in suicide attacks, many were instead desperate to go get away. These would over time gather in the Kibbin system and form what would later be known as the Remnant Fleet. Organised by the Minister of Education, Silver Maple[2], they would lead the Remnant Fleet in a great exodus.

The Remnant Fleet as it is leaving Lavis space. The fleet would cause no end of trouble for other stellar nations as it scavenged and stole resources in order to survive. Deeply xenophobic, they refused any offers of help.
(Art by Tenement01)
​

By June 2142, almost a full year after the Battle of Lav, the 1st Expeditionary Army arrived in orbit over the Ring. Despite both the troops and their leaders spoiling for a fight, they were not given permission to land. Despite enduring a year of near-constant bombardment, the Armed Forces of the Lavis Republic were still a coherent fighting force. While it was clear that Humanity would win any fight, the SSA feared that an invasion would be costly.

On the domestic front, a lot had happened since the war began. Just prior to the war, the preparations needed to colonise Samdeeram II had almost been completed. With the outbreak of war, those plans had been put on hold. Now, with the Ring Defense Fleet destroyed and the Lavis threat bottled up on the Ring, the project was given the final resources needed.

However, reconnaissance suggested that the Collodor system bordering the Lav system contained a potentially life-bearing world. This would be much closer than both Samdeeram II and Saldropis IIIa, which was also a candidate for colonisation.

Saldropis IIIa was technically a moon, but could also be considered a double planet, as both worlds were similar in mass. The exploration of Saldropis IIIa had to be cut shut after several encounters with the local wildlife, which was described as “exceptionally aggressive”.
​

With limited information, and a war technically still ongoing, the Great Powers agreed to suspend any new colonial ventures for the time being until Canadian leadership could evaluate all potential worlds. This greatly angered Japanese leaders, who had been campaigning for them to be next in line after Canada.

All of this mattered very little to the average citizen on Earth. With the immediate threat contained, their attention soon turned back to issues that had been brewing before the war. Namely rising unemployment.

During the buildup to the First Lavis War there had been significant cuts to basic income to fund the fleet expansion. The effects of this had been buoyed by industrial expansion to feed the fleet buildup and by colonial ventures creating more jobs. Now many of the new jobs were being automated once more, both on Earth as well as in the colonies. The issue of rising unemployment had been buried by the outbreak of war, but once again the SSA and national governments were facing criticism from the voters. This played a large part in the delay to the invasion, as both the SSA and the Great Powers feared a costly victory could create a rift in the alliance.

On the 2nd of October, 2142, the geopolitical situation gained a new wrinkle as the Beldross embassy requested an urgent audience with the Executive Council. Once gathered, the Beldross requested that Humanity serve as mediators between them and a third party. While hesitant, the Executive Council agreed. A few hours later the Beldross delivered a message on behalf of the Suramo of the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association.

First contact with the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association was almost a disaster as a bug in the translation software caused a misunderstanding. The Suramo accused the Beldross of sabotaging the talks, which required a great deal of effort to ease over.
​

The Welfon-Boordar Trade Association was an association of corporations that controlled much of the space spinward of the Beldross Hive[3]. Expansion had brought them into contact with the Beldross Hive and from there tensions had risen. The Beldross didn’t have any sort of market for the WBTA to sell their goods on, while the Hive was increasingly finding itself hemmed in. While Humanity had refrained from claiming some systems along the rim in an effort to lower tensions, the same could not be said for the Lilarobius or the Suramo.

This came to a head at some point following the Battle of Lav, when a Beldross patrol craft boarded a Welfon-Boordar cargo freighter in a disputed system. The Trade Association claimed that the Beldross boarded the craft, killed the crew, and then “reprocessed them” (i.e. ate them). The Hive did not dispute them boarding the craft and “reprocessing” the crew, they denied killing them, instead claiming that the crew had died due to a fault in the life-support system.

The incident was the latest in a long line between the two states, and several prominent Association board members were openly calling for “the enforced deregulation of Beldross markets”. The Hive, hoping to avoid conflict, suggested involving the Space Security Administration as neutral arbiters. The Suramo were sceptical, but agreed.

It is not clear what the Hive hoped to achieve with this suggestion. The most common theory is that the Hive expected Humanity to side with them in the dispute, potentially even lending its military weight. If so, it was a great miscalculation.

For the first time since leaving the Sol system forty years ago, Humanity had met an alien civilisation that was both like them, and did not want to see them dead. In newspapers and online, there was a palpable relief at finally finding “equals”.

Meanwhile, the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association was thrilled to meet a new potential trade partner and used the Human position as “neutral” arbiters for all it was worth. The Association extracted several concessions from the Beldross Hive, most of them superficial in nature. The true goal was nurturing a relationship with Humanity.

It did not take long before the Suramo broached the subject of formal diplomatic relations. This had some logistical issues since neither side had direct access to the other.
​

One concession was rejected: freedom of navigation for all non-military Association ships. Furthermore, the Beldross made it clear that they would also stop any Human ships they suspected of doing trade with the WBTA. This was a major blow, especially for the Association, and caused the WTBA navy to cancel all leave. However, some quick thinking from Human negotiators managed to calm the situation. Instead of freedom of navigation for trade, the Beldross would instead allow all diplomatic vessels below a certain tonnage to transit their space. The SSA assured the Association that this would be worthwhile, and the Beldross, spooked by the Suramo sabre rattling, agreed to the proposal.

The Executive Council sent their instructions before the agreement was even finalised. On Neu Brandenburg, engineers were instructed to pack up the Psionic-Augmented Quantum Entanglement Binary Communication Device and pack it onto a courier boat. It was to be shipped to the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association main office and installed there.

The Psionic-Augmented Quantum Entanglement Binary Communication Device (affectionately known as the Russalka Phone by engineers working on the project) was an experimental communication device. Using Dr. Heinemann’s work studying the “Living Sea”, the device created a pair of “linked” particles, one on Earth and one on Neu Brandenburg. These particles could then be used to transmit binary data without regard for the distance between the devices. The bitrate was atrocious, but it still allowed for instant communication over vast distances.
​

The finalisation of the Daturi Compact[4] marked a shift in the foreign policy of the Space Security Administration. Prior to this, Humanity’s main geopolitical goal had been to find potential allies against the Lavis Republic, or at the very least avoid making new enemies. Before the outbreak of the Second Lavis War, there had been periods of tension with the Hive and the Executive Council had worked diligently to reduce this tension. With the Lavis Republic facing total defeat, appeasing the Hive was suddenly no longer a major concern.

While this change was clear from the negotiations with the Suramo, the final nail was when a few months later the Beldross enquired about a technology-sharing agreement. The proposal found very little support in the Administration Assembly, and behind closed doors the Executive Council was advised by military leaders to reject it. Already the plans for a potential war with the Hive were being updated.

The agreement was rather one-sided, as the Beldross were falling behind on technological developments. The Hive was clearly trying to improve its position relative to the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association.
​

Just as one war was averted, another entered its final stages. By August 2143 it had been more than a year since the 1st Expeditionary Army arrived over the Ring, and two years since the Ring Defence Fleet was destroyed. The troops, cooped up in their ships with minimal outlets, were getting impatient. As was Admiral Ikegoshi, who was pushing for an assault on the Ring. And unlike his previous attempts, now people were listening.

Despite pounding the Ring near constantly for two years, the effects of orbital bombardment were still limited. The Navy was confident they could break the Lavis military, but the most optimistic estimates required another two years. The more pessimistic estimates required five. This was a blow to the Great Powers, where there were increasing demands to have “the troops back for Christmas”[5]. While China, Russia and especially Germany had hoped to minimise Human casualties, the prospect of a long war was equally unpopular.

On the 2nd of September, 2143, Admiral Shen was informed that the Executive Council and the Administration Assembly had given the order to land troops on the Ring. She passed this message on to the overall commander of the ground forces, Feldmarschall von Carlowitz. Most of the preparations had already been done, and Humanity would have boots on the Ring in only four days.

The first wave lands on the Ring. While the Lilarobius tried to oppose this landing, they faced the full might of the Home Fleet’s orbital bombardment. A beachhead was established within hours, allowing the rest of the 1st Expeditionary Army to follow.
(Art by James Lewis-Vines)
​

The initial advance was lightning fast, seizing an area equivalent to Greenland during the first week. Germany, well versed in mobile warfare from dozens of military campaigns, utilised a tactic of “Schock und Ehrfurcht” to destroy Lilarobius organisation and morale. It was extremely successful, often causing massive routs before ground forces even made contact.

This success came at a cost. The rapid Human advance not only caused panic among the military ranks, but also in the civilian population. Whenever Human ground forces were pushing towards a city or village, there was always a stream of refugees fleeing on overloaded trains, ships and other means of escape. Often this would not be fast enough, and the refugees would arrive at their destination only to find it already occupied by Humanity.

A German drone carrier (or Drohnenvogel), used both for air superiority and close air support. Germany had brought two of these to the Ring, while China and Russia had brought one each. These were instrumental in the rapid advance, as they could respond faster and more accurately than orbital bombardment.​

The suffering of the civilian population did not lessen after being overrun. Von Carlowitz reported that “I do not have time for humanitarian[6] activities. I have a war to end.” Basic supplies for the Lilarobius were often scarce, and what supplies there were was often stuck in place as the military prioritised supplying Human troops.

Worsening the situation was the various holdouts, partisans and resistance groups. Most of these operated from bases located inside the Ring. The task of clearing these out was given to the Japanese.

Japanese troops were woefully unprepared for the kind of war the Great Powers were fighting. Equipped only with open-topped trucks that could only do 80 km/h on paved roads and no armour, they often found themselves lagging hundreds of kilometres behind the front. Admiral Ikegoshi openly worried that he and his troops wouldn’t see any fighting. So when the opportunity arose he committed to it fully.

Clearing the tunnels under the Ring was, as expected, some of the fiercest fighting of the campaign. The Lilarobius holed up in them were often trapped, fanatical and ready to die. They would often charge at Japanese soldiers in “human” wave attacks while screaming “Lav Certyin” (t.l. For the Eternal Ring, a phrase with spiritual connotation for the Lilarobius). These “Certyin charges” were rarely successful, but frayed the morale of the Japanese troops.

The fighting got so intense that Admiral Ikegoshi requested permission to clear the tunnels with chemical weapons, a request supported by Admiral Shen. It was denied by the Executive Council, but permission was given to use incendiary weapons. This decision would prove controversial later on, but at the time it was quite effective.

A Japanese soldier clearing a holdout with a flamethrower. Incendiary weapons proved very effective in clearing enemy positions. However, their true potential came as a side effect of Lilarobius physiology. The large methane bladders that let them float could be ignited by something as simple as tracer rounds (a fact exploited by machine gun teams who would load more tracers than normal). Purpose-built incendiaries had a devastating effect on enemy morale, and holdouts would often surrender the moment they learned that Humans were planning on using them.
(Art by Atomicsandwich)
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Despite the issue with holdouts, the advance continued, but sometimes at a slower pace. Though the Lavis Republic were able to move more troops to the front to confront the Human advance, they were not always fit for combat. After two years of orbital bombardment, many of these units were understrength and under-equipped. They would often crumble once combat started.

The biggest coup of the war came with the attack on the capital of the republic, the city of Shining Falls. As the seat of the Lavis government, High Councillor White Pine made holding the city the highest priority. Furthermore, they demanded that Humanity be stopped outside the city. They were warned that doing this would be extremely difficult, as the military leaders instead wanted to use the city as a battleground. The High Councillor overruled them.

It is not entirely clear why White Pine made this decision. The leading theory is that they were worried about a potential coup. White Pine’s popularity had been declining since the end of the First Lavis War. It has been theorised that they began the second war in an effort to unite the Lilarobius and boost their flagging popularity. This had spectacularly backfired, and the ensuing two years of orbital bombardment had led to open calls among the populace for their removal. Losing Shining Falls might cause some in the military to heed those calls.

The Lilarobius set up positions around the city, which left them dangerously exposed and overextended. Human intelligence was able to pick up on this, and von Carlowitz and his staff set out to make a plan. Instead of engaging the enemy and then letting them retreat back into the city, the Germans (most of the forces involved in the operation were Germans) would instead focus on a single Schwerpunkt, push through and occupy the city before the Lilarobius could react. It was a bold plan, but one the German army had executed before. A member of von Carlowitz’ staff, Generalmajor Amelie Schneider, commented that “It will be like visiting Paris. Again.”

The assault began on November 22nd with orbital bombardment and air strikes. What followed was an overwhelming attack by some of the most elite military units of the Heer, including the largest concentration of drone tanks seen during the war. The defenders, still reeling from the bombardment, were quickly overrun. The Germans, barely stopping to take stock of the situation, pushed on to Shining Falls.

The citizens of Shining Falls had less than two hours between the news that the defensive line had been broken and the first Human troops entering the city. Only the highest members of government, including White Pine themselves, had the time and means to evacuate. Most of the citizens huddled in terror as the Germans seized key positions. They expected the worst. But it never came.

Humanity had seized the capital of the Lavis Republic while hardly firing a shot. Even von Carlowitz expressed surprise at the ease of the attack. Moreover, a significant portion of the Lavis Republic’s civilian government had been unable to escape the city and were now in Human hands.

After securing the city, the German troops took the time to arrange a parade down one of the major thoroughfares of Shining Falls. While officially a display of force, unofficially it was a massive photo op. Pictures were circulated widely, with comparisons being drawn to the occupation of Paris during the Nine Week Directorate.
​

As the population slowly realised that they were not doomed, some decided to make contact with the Human leadership. A group of politicians and industrial leaders led by Black Spruce, who had served as Minister of the Ring until running afoul of White Pine and being removed from the position, approached von Carlowitz about a negotiated surrender. Von Carlowitz, and later Admiral Shen who would join the talks, made it clear that the only surrender acceptable to the Space Security Administration was an unconditional one. When Black Spruce tried to argue, Admiral Shen replied “This is more than you would have given us, and far more than you deserve.”

Despite Shen’s lack of tact, the talks kept going. With the loss of Shining Falls it was clear that the Lavis Republic had lost the war. Humanity was progressing rapidly on all fronts, and continued fighting would only prolong the suffering of the populace. Black Spruce requested, and was given, permission to present the High Councillor with Humanity’s terms.

The offer did not go down well. White Pine accused Black Spruce, and the entire population of Shining Falls, of treason and wowed to continue the fight until the stain of collaboration had been burned from the Ring. It has been noted, both at the time and by later historians, that White Pine only mentioned Humanity twice during the discussion.

What followed is a bit muddled, with conflicting accounts and little hard evidence.

The official account from the Lavis Republic is that following the talks the High Councillor went into a deep depression that lasted for several days. They, and what little remained of the Republic’s government, were holed up in the Deeps, an especially large set of tunnels that had been used as a strategic command centre for centuries. Surrounded and without access to sunlight, the base was in a state of siege.

Accounts from those at the base say that after a few days of denial, White Pine asked their remaining generals to meet in the command room. There they announced that Shining Falls had fallen due to treason, and that the same was true of every other city that had fallen to Humanity. White Pine then ordered a nuclear strike against Shining Falls and several other major cities[7].

According to the official account, the assembled generals refused to follow this order. White Pine is then supposed to have then threatened them with a sidearm. A scuffle broke out, during which White Pine was accidentally shot. They passed within the hour.

This account is suspect, as the individuals present at this meeting then ordered that White Pine’s body be burned. This naturally prevented Human examination of the body, but in Lilarobius culture burning the remains of the deceased is considered a mark of great disrespect.

Regardless, with the High Councillor dead, command of the Republic passed to First Chair Chestnut Oak, who was sworn in within hours. Their first, and only, act as High Councillor of the Lavis Republic was to order all Lavis military units to stand down and formally surrender to Humanity.

On the 5th of December, 2143, 263 years after High Councillor Shellbark Hickory announced the end of the Unification Wars and the formation of a united Lilarobius state, the Lavis Republic was dissolved. All duties of the Republic were transferred to the Space Security Administration military, and all current and former members of the previous government were detained. The Second Lavis War was over.

[1] - Technically the Lilarobius would not starve as they gained most of their energy from photosynthesis. However, hidden away inside the Ring, they would have to rely on artificial sunlight for energy. As a result, power generation facilities were made a priority target for the orbiting fleet.

[2] - Silver Maple had been out of the system at the time of the Battle of Lav. Unable to contact any senior members of the Lavis Republic, they assumed Humanity had already destroyed most of the Ring.

[3] - While there were traditional nation-states on the Suramo homeworld of Athanebia, these possessed only nominal control of their territories. The WBTA maintained a monopoly on space travel and had complete control of any colonial holdings. Most member corporations had moved their offices off-world; primarily to be out of reach for any national governments, but also for tax reasons.

[4] - Named for the contested region of space that had led to the confrontation.

[5] - The Navy dryly noted that they “clearly meant by Christmas 2144”, as transporting the troops back to Earth would require about a year.

[6] - The term was typically used in a bit of a tongue-in-cheek manner. An official “replacement term” had not been agreed on.

[7] - There had been previous attempts to use tactical nuclear weapons against Human forces during the invasion, but all had failed. In every instance, the nuclear radiation of the weapons had revealed them to the orbiting fleets the moment they were removed from underground storage. That site would then face the full might of the Home Fleet.

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Well, this chapter got a bit out of hand. It’s now the longest chapter of the AAR, at around 6.900 words. For comparison, the previous longest chapter was Prologue: The Space Race, which was just shy of 4.800 words.

And as @Chasetheace110 pointed out, it has now been a year since I posted the first chapter of this AAR. I would like to thank everyone who has been reading along. This story has really rekindled my passion for writing after a few years of not feeling motivated.

The next part will be another interlude, so that will hopefully be a little shorter. But me being me, it has already grown beyond its original scope…