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Interlude: Family
  • Family
    December 2143 - Marchall Residence - Toronto

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    The spacecraft took critical damage and veered off course until it hit the floor and ploughed into the rug. The victorious Ocelot class too and orbit around the wreckage, surveying its kill.

    “You know, spacecraft don’t veer off course like that when they’re destroyed. They keep going in the same direction as before.”
    Dylan ignored his father and had the toy ship blast off into space. He hadn’t decided if it was called the Tiger or the Bear. Dad had told him that ocelots were a type of cat so the Tiger was the most appropriate, but Bears were much stronger. It didn’t matter just yet. He just had to have decided by the time he showed it to John and Gabriel.

    “Also, spaceships don’t make any sound as they travel,” Dad continued. “That’s because--”
    “Jordan, how old is Dylan?”

    Dylan looked up at his mother. “Six!”
    “That’s right,” she said. “So maybe wait with the physics lessons until he’s eleven or twelve.”
    “Whats fysiks?” Dylan asked.
    His mother made the expression she often gave Dad. He grinned.
    “Ever thrown a ball? That’s physics.”

    “Ok,” Dylan said, not sure what they could tell him about throwing balls. He was very good at throwing balls. He did it all the time.

    Uncle George turned on the TV. Dylan looked up to see if it was cartoons. It wasn’t. Instead it was one of those shows where people in suits just talked. It was pretty boring, but sometimes they showed videos of spaceships or tanks, which was pretty cool. Grandpa sat down to watch, speaking in low tones with Uncle George. His brother Trevon hung around the edge of the conversation.

    “Honey, could you get the table ready?” Mom asked. “The roast is almost done.”
    “Sure,” he said, then he turned to Dylan. “Do you want to help me set the table?”
    Dylan was on his feet in seconds. “Yes!”

    They walked out into the kitchen and Dad gave Dylan some plates. Dylan carried them into the living room, where Dad put them on the table. It took several trips, but they finally got all the plates in place. Now they only had to get some knives and forks, as well as some glasses for everyone. That would probably go quicker. Dylan could carry more at the same time.

    Dad was rummaging through the top cupboards, far out of Dylan’s reach, when Mom screamed. Dad was out of the room before Dylan knew what was going on.

    He ran after his father into the living room and found everyone staring at the TV. Mom and his older sister Amber stared at the screen in shock while Uncle George did a fist pump.
    “Fuck yeah! Get fucked, weeds!” Trevon shouted. Normally bad language would have gotten him into trouble, but Mom didn’t seem to notice.

    Grandpa and Grandma were the only ones not looking at the screen. They stared at Dad, who was staring transfixed at the TV.

    “We do have confirmation from a Space Security Administration spokesperson that the surrender is unconditional,” the suited man on the TV said. Normally, they looked so calm. Now he looked a bit unsteady. All around him were red banners. Dylan tried to recall what he’d learned in school.

    “B… R… E… A… K… I… N… G… Breaking,” Dylan said. “What has broken?”
    His mother and grandparents suddenly noticed he was in the room. Dad was still staring at the screen.

    “To anyone who has just joined us: the Lavis Republic has surrendered to Human forces on the Ring,” the man on TV said.

    His father fell to his knees and began howling. Tears ran down his face. Mom and Grandma rushed to him, Mom hugging him closely, just the way she hugged Dylan when he’d hurt himself. Grandpa stepped over to Dad and rubbed his back.
    “It’s okay, Jordan. They can’t hurt you anymore. They can’t hurt anyone now.”

    “Why is Dad crying?” Dylan asked. He’d never seen his father cry. He hadn’t thought he could cry. Dads didn’t cry…

    Everyone looked at him. Everyone except Dad, who kept sobbing. Mom let go of Dad and was halfway up when Grandpa stopped her.
    “Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” he said, and Mom sat back down.

    Grandpa came over and knelt down next to Dylan.
    “I heard you got a new spaceship for your birthday.”
    “Yes…” Dylan answered, unsure what that had to do with his father crying.
    “Why don’t you show it to me.”
    “Okay…” Dylan didn’t understand. He’d shown the ship to Grandpa and Grandma when they’d arrived. But he led Grandpa over to the table where he’d left the ship.

    “Ah, an Ocelot,” Grandpa said as he picked up the model. “That’s a powerful ship.”
    His grandfather bent down so he was at eye level with Dylan. He held the ship in front of him.

    “Now, Dylan, a long time ago, before you, or even Amber and Trevon, were born, your father worked on a ship like this. Not this kind, a smaller one.”
    Dylan reached out slowly and picked up the ship.
    “Dylan, do you know about the plant aliens?”
    “Yeah, the weeds.”
    “Don’t call them that.”
    “Trevor calls them that all the time.”
    “Calling them that could lead to terrible things. Your brother is a fool if he doesn’t realise that.”

    Grandpa looked down for a second, then took a deep breath.
    “Back then, the plant aliens tried to hurt us. All of us. Every living Human being. So a lot of brave men and women stepped forward to keep the aliens from hurting us. And a lot of them got hurt in the process. Your father was one of those people. He worked on a ship like that, and kept us all safe. Me, Grandma, your mother, even Uncle George.”

    Dylan clutched the ship. It seemed much more important now. But it still didn’t make sense.
    “But why is Dad crying? He stopped the we— the plants.”
    “Yes, he did. But they tried again. And this time some different brave men and women stepped forwards to keep us all safe. And what the man on the TV just said is that the aliens agree not to try to hurt us again. Your father is just very happy about that. He was worried about them hurting you or your siblings.”

    Dylan glanced at the TV. They were showing people cheering in the streets, celebrating. None of them was crying.

    “How about we go and see if Dad is doing better?” Dylan nodded and followed Grandpa.

    Dad was sitting in his favourite chair. Someone had given him a glass of water and Mom was stroking his head. He looked pretty normal, except for the red, puffy eyes.
    “How are you doing, Jordan,” Grandpa asked.
    “Better,” Dad said. His voice sounded rough, like he was sick. “I still can’t believe it.”

    Dylan stepped forward, still holding the model. “Grandpa told me you used to work on a spaceship. And that you kept everyone safe…”
    His dad looked him straight in the eyes. “Yeah… That’s right. It was a very long time ago.”

    Dylan took a deep breath. “When I’m older, I want to keep everyone safe too!”

    Mom gave him a weird look, but Dad leaned closer and put his hand on Dylan’s head, stroking his hair.

    “No, Dylan. You don’t have to.”

    * * *
    December 2143 - Aid Station 46 - Former Folvaris Ward

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    (Art by Simon Fetscher)
    The Human soldier looked down at Linden from the watchtower. It made Linden feel very small and vulnerable, which no doubt was the intended effect.

    The Humans preferred to keep their distance. It was something Linden had noticed after the surrender. They’d asked a few people about it and gotten different answers. Some said the Humans were afraid of them. Others said that the Humans found Lilarobian bodies disgusting. The explanation Linden put the most stock in was that the Humans wanted clear sightlines if any of them got out of line.

    Once inside the camp gates, there were several lines, all of them endlessly long. Fortunately they were all labelled.

    The inside walls were covered in instructions for what you should and should not do. They were written in several different local languages. Occasionally, there was stuff written in Human languages as well. Their scripts were so weird, angular and… alien.

    Linden waited. The line moved regularly, but it was so long it felt like it would take too long. They were clearly not alone in thinking that, and tensions in the line were high. At one point a couple of people up ahead started fighting. Linden didn’t catch why, but the local security was there a moment later.

    They were Lilarobious too, hired by the Humans to keep order. Everyone hated them. But they kept the Humans from getting involved. Usually.

    One of those fighting didn’t understand that, and they smacked a guard in the gas bladder. As the guard went down, the Humans came in. Four of them grabbed the two fighting, while a fifth tended to the downed guard. Nobody tried to fight back, and the Humans removed both of the fighters from the line. After that there was no more fighting.

    It took hours to get to the front of the line, but Linden could finally see the end. Two Humans and one Lilarobian stood behind a table. All of them wore uniforms, though the Liliarobian’s had been stripped of all rank and unit patches. Only the medic patch remained.

    Linden studied the Human uniforms carefully and was relieved to see a patch with white, blue and red lines. While none of the Human soldiers were especially friendly, most of them weren’t out for blood.

    But the key word was “most”. Linden had seen a group of Human soldiers, those with red circles on a white background, beat someone senseless just for bumping into them. And rumours suggested it could be far worse.

    It was finally Linden’s turn and one of the Humans waved them forward. They were just about to move when someone barged in front. They had a wild look to them as they floated up to the table standing in front of the Humans.

    “You have to help me! They’re sick and I don’t know how long they will last!”
    “No cutting in line.” The robotic voice coming from the translator on the Human’s wrist made it sound like they were bored. Maybe they were. “Go to the back of the line and wait your turn.”
    “You don’t understand! It’s my child! They’re suffering from black knots! They’re going to die!”

    The other human pointed to Linden. “You! What are you here about?”
    “Um…” Linden froze for a moment as they became the centre of attention. “It— it’s my grandparents. They’re wilting, and I can’t help them. I don’t know what to do.”

    The Human returned their attention to the interloper. “See? This is the line for medical assistance. Everyone here is in dire need of help. You are not special. Now get to the back of the line.”

    The translator rendered every word in the same monotone, but Linden didn’t need it to hear the anger and frustration in the Human’s voice, strange and guttural as it may be.

    The interloper was about to say something when they noticed the local security standing by, with Human soldiers standing a bit further away. For a moment they lost buoyancy, then they floated towards the start of the line. The Human waved Linden closer as if nothing had happened.

    “Grandparents are wilting, huh?” they said, looking to the medic.
    “Are they still buoyant?” the medic asked.
    “No. We were hiding in a service hatch and now I can’t get them out.”
    “How is their skin? Any brown?”
    “Not yet. But it is starting to discolour. And it’s dry to the touch.”
    “Sounds like medium to advanced wilting,” the medic said to the Humans, the translator sputtering out guttural sounds. “They will need a sunlamp or two, but the best solution would be to get them out of the service hatch and into a sun-facing shelter. Give them some nutrient packs to speed up recovery.”

    The Humans waited for the translator to finish, then pressed a button. When next they spoke, the translator was silent.

    They spoke for a few minutes, Linden growing anxious as they did. If the Humans didn’t help, then Linden didn’t know what to do. Going to the aid camp had not been an easy decision.

    Finally the Humans stopped talking. One touched the translator again, while the other worked on their slate.
    “And this over to the people by the vehicle park,” they said, handing Linden a piece of paper with some symbols on it. “They will help you. Next!”

    Linden had little time to process what had happened before being shuffled out of the line. Clutching the piece of paper hard, they made their way to the vehicle park. There were far fewer people there, and Linden was met by a few Humans as they approached. Wordlessly, Linden held out the paper.

    Their leader read it, then the Humans discussed it amongst themselves. Finally the leader turned on a translator.
    “Wait there,” they said, pointing to one of the strange Human vehicles. “We’ll be there shortly.”

    While the Human had said “shortly”, it still felt like an eternity to Linden. They still had no idea what the Humans were planning, and if whatever they were planning would work.

    At long last someone came. A group of four Humans and another Lilorobian in a stripped-down medic’s uniform. The Humans largely ignored Linden as they began loading equipment onto the vehicle. Only one of them approached Linden.
    “Where are they?” the Human asked, holding out a slate with a map.
    Linden pointed to it, and the Human studied the location for a moment.
    “Everyone get on! It’s a short ride, if a bumpy one.”

    The Humans climbed onto the vehicle and Linden followed. It was awkward to find somewhere to anchor, so the Lilarobian medic floated over.
    “Hold here, and hold on tight. These trucks were made with them in mind.”

    The engine roared into life and the medic was instantly proven right. Every turn, start and stop jostled Linden and the medic around. The Humans, aided by gravity and friction, didn’t move nearly as much.

    They drove through the remnants of Hollow Copse, getting priority passage through all the checkpoints. As they did, Linden caught a few nasty glances from people along the road. Linden tried to not let it get to them. They must have done a pretty bad job.

    “They’re not looking at you,” the medic said. “They’re looking at me.”
    Linden stared at them for a moment, considering what to say.
    “But why? You’re helping.”
    The medic bobbed, which was impressive given the bumpy ride. “Yeah. But they’ll call me a traitor even as I bandage their wounds, treat their children of needle blight, or try to comfort them in their final moments. Emotion makes fools of us all.”

    The rest of the trip was done in silence. Mostly due to the uneven dirt roads throwing Linden and the medic around.

    At the end of the dirt road, they arrived at a small clearing with a low earth mound. There were thousands just like it all around the Ring, maybe even millions. The Humans unloaded their equipment from the truck and then made their way over. Linden had left the hatch open and they all made their way into the darkness.

    It was tough going for the Humans as they were too tall and gangly to navigate the tunnels comfortably. But after a while (and a few Human exclamations that the translators struggled with), they finally reached the chamber that had been home to Linden for more than a year.

    Larch and Cypress were still lying where Linden had left them. Fear shot through Linden as Larch didn’t move. The medic rushed over, lighting a sunlamp and examining them.
    “Both are suffering from advanced wilting. I can stabilise them, but we need to get them out of here.”
    “Are they safe to move?” one of the Humans asked.
    “It should be fine. Better than leaving them here anyway.”

    Larch began to stir as people talked. They mumbled something and turned to look. When they saw the Humans, they screamed and flailed away. Their words were slurred and incomprehensible.

    “Larch, they’re here to help!” Linden shouted. It didn’t have any effect. Instead the screams got worse.
    “They’re delirious! I’ll have to sedate them!” the medic shouted. “Hold them down for me.”

    Two of the Humans stepped up and held Larch down. One of them spoke as Larch screamed even more. The translator came with its monotone voice a moment later.

    “We’re here to help. Stay strong. Don’t be afraid. Everything will be okay, I promise.”

    The words cut into Linden and touched something. Something that they had suppressed for two years. Something they had never had time to deal with. Something that was still raw.

    Linden screamed, then broke down and sobbed.
     
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    Our Oldest Enemy
  • Our Oldest Enemy
    June 2144 - The Ring - On approach to Fort Barbarossa

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    A propaganda poster on the Ring, warning the Lilarobius that “You cannot hide. I see everything.” The figure would become synonymous with Humanity for the generation of Lilarobius growing up in the aftermath of the war. Among Humans stationed on the Ring, the figure was affectionately known as “Orwell”, with the exception of Japanese troops, who instead called him “oniisan”.
    Kim Hyun-ae glanced out the shuttle window to the moonscape below. Plants had begun growing again, but there was no hiding the craters covering the ground.

    The Gardens of Justice had been an important part of Lilarobius culture. A sort of supreme court that had preceded the formation of a united state. From the reports, the navy had hesitated to open fire on it during the siege. That was until they began pronouncing propaganda during the ground invasion. The bombardment had been intense. Not a single structure remained standing. A statement, from Humanity to the Lilarobius.

    Building a Human fortress on the site was another statement.

    Fort Barbarossa was the only permanent Human facility on the Ring. The aliens were forbidden from getting within 50 kilometres of it, and the exclusion zone was enforced by the fleet in orbit. It would be Hyun-ae’s home for the next two years, possibly more.

    The shuttle touched down inside the courtyard and she stepped out as work crews approached to unload the cargo. Carrying her bag, she walked towards the main entrance. She did not know where she was going, but there weren’t that many options.

    “Detective Kim,” a voice called out. She turned and saw her new boss, Commissioner General Christopher Sharp walk towards her. “Welcome to the Ring.”

    Hyun-ae dropped her bag and saluted. Sharp looked amused for a second, then did one himself. It would not have passed muster back in Seoul.

    “How was the trip?”
    “Long, or so I’m told. Slept through most of it.”
    “Yeah, that’s the benefit for people like us. Got a friend in the navy who was here during the war. Said the worst part wasn’t the fighting, but the months of being stuck in a tin can with nothing to do. I imagine…” He trailed off, and Hyun-ae saw the work crews giving them a sour look. They were in their way. “Well, I can tell you later. Let us get you settled.”

    Sharp went about doing just that, showing Hyun-ae to her new quarters, the mess hall and the various recreation areas. They were on their way to the briefing room when they encountered a man going the other way.
    “Ah, perfect timing,” Commissioner Sharp said. “Detective Amamiya Ren, meet your new partner, Detective Kim Hyun-ae.”

    The man, a tall, somewhat pale and lanky individual with messy hair, stared at her for a moment. Then looked to the Commissioner.
    “We’ve got an incident.” He turned to Hyun-ae before Sharp could say anything. “Have you had your security briefing?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you have a weapon?”
    “They wouldn’t let me down to the surface without one.”
    “Excellent. Get some class 2 armour and meet me on the landing pad in twenty minutes.”

    Amamiya walked away, marching down the hallway as if he’d never stopped. Sharp looked bemused.
    “Seems you’re being thrown into the deep end.”
    “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Where’s the armoury.”

    Twenty minutes later she was in body armour and boarding a shuttle alongside Amamiya and a platoon of well-armed German soldiers. As soon as they were underway, Amamiya spoke over the comms.
    “All right, we’ve got ourselves a dead Lilarobian in the Velsynt District. The victim was a local garrison member who did not return from leave. The body was found in an alleyway earlier today.”
    “Are we moving out due to a dead weed?” one of the soldiers asked. “I mean, a hundred of them die every day.”
    “True, but local forces seem to think this is politically motivated. That makes it our jurisdiction. So we’ll sniff around a bit and if we find anyone, we’ll bring ‘em back to Fort Barbo for a chat.”

    Hyun-ae chuckled at that. “Is that what we call home?”
    Amamiya looked at her, then switched to Korean. “It sure is. You’ll be amazed at how many of the non-Germans struggle with the name. The Japanese keep finding new and interesting ways to butcher it.”

    Hyun-ae raised an eyebrow, and Amamiya caught on immediately.
    “Hey, my ancestors crossed the straits in the early 2000s. My Cantonese is better than my Japanese. Now, if only Commissioner Sharp would realise and not try to stick me with the Japanese troops.”
    Hyun-ae glanced back at the troops. “Given the choice, would you rather be stuck with the German troops, or the Japanese?”
    “Oh, German, any day of the week. They only cause trouble when they’re drunk. Which, admittedly, is fairly often.”

    She laughed, and Amamiya joined in. That earned them some confused stares from the German soldiers in the back.

    After an hour in the air, they slowed down above the remnants of an alien city. It was a strange mix of standing (if damaged) buildings, rubble and new construction. Surrounding the city was a sprawl of tents, many of them quite shabby. They landed in front of an imposing building that was mostly intact, though Hyun-ae could see the marks where the symbols of the Lavis Republic had been crudely removed.

    A group of Lilarobius were waiting for them. Amamiya took one look at them.
    “Make sure you glare at them.” He then turned on the translator and stepped out.

    “Greetings, magnanimous emissaries of Earth. I am Guelder Rose, Security Chief here in Velsynt District. This is Investigator E--”
    “We’re here to see the body, not socialise,” Amamiya interrupted, giving the alien a stern glare. “The sooner we’re away, the better for everyone.”

    Guelder Rose bobbed slightly. Hyun-ae’s briefing said that was a sign of discomfort or unease. She suspected she would see a lot of bobbing Lilarobius in the coming years.

    “Of course, of course. Please follow me.”
    Guelder Rose led them into the precinct house. The aliens cleared the way ahead of them, jumping into side corridors and rooms when they saw them coming. Civilians, or at least what Hyun-ae assumed were civilians, cowered as they went past.

    Finally they reached the morgue. There were a dozen bodies in the room, but there was only one that interested Humanity.

    Guelder Rose pulled back a soot-stained sheet and revealed the burned remains. There was not a lot left. Hyun-ae had read accounts from the war about what happened when the Lilarobius caught fire. Seeing it up close herself, she realised they’d undersold it.

    “We’ve identified them as Holm Oak, a member of the local garrison,” Guelder Rose said. “They were on leave last night with members of their unit. They didn’t return.”
    “Has their unit been interrogated?” Hyun-ae asked. Guelder Rose bobbed at her speaking.
    “The military police questioned them. They were out drinking. According to them, Oak remained behind to chat up a local prostitute.”

    Amamiya poked at the charred corpse a bit, then turned off the translator.
    “What do you reckon?”
    “It doesn’t matter if it’s here or back home, lighting someone on fire requires a fair bit of anger. Could be an angry pimp, but I doubt it.”
    “Yeah, the Weeds especially don’t like fire. We’ve seen a lot of cases like this. Perceived traitors or collaborators are burned alive.”
    “Could it have been done post-mortem? Trying to destroy evidence?”
    Amamiya shook his head. “No. Look at how the central bladder has been ripped apart. That means it was still filled with gasses when they were lit ablaze. Which means they were neither dead nor unconscious at the time.”

    Hyun-ae studied the body, following along as Amamiya pointed. “Damn, someone really hated them.”
    “I suspect someone was sending a message.”
    “So our next step is tracking down Oak’s movements last night, starting with whatever bar they were hanging out at.”
    “As good a place as any.”

    They hunkered down at the precinct house until the end of the work shift. The Ring didn’t have a day/night cycle, but it did have a routine. And they hoped to find as many regulars as possible.

    They tore down the streets in armoured personnel carriers and arrived in front of the bar about two hours after the last shift ended. The soldiers fanned out and covered any doors before anyone inside had time to react. The aliens out on the streets, however, disappeared quickly.

    Hyun-ae followed Amamita into the bar along with a couple of troopers. Those inside hadn’t noticed yet, and the place was filled with chatter and laughter. When they stepped inside it died in less than three seconds.

    Rows and rows of glowing eyes followed them as they walked up to the bar counter. A few Lilarobius who had anchored by it slipped away as they approached. The bartender didn’t have that option. Amamiya slid up to the counter.
    “Were you working here yesterday?”

    The bartender looked around, desperately searching for help. For some reason, they looked to Hyun-ae.
    “Um… yes.”
    Hyun-ae put a picture of Oak on the counter and slid it over. “They were found dead earlier today. Their friends claim they were here yesterday.”
    The bartender bobbed so hard it looked like they were about to deflate. “I don’t know anything about that.”
    “That is very convenient,” Amamiya said. “Maybe you want to make a statement down at the fort.”
    “No! Wait! I mean, I saw them!”

    The bartender began to vomit details at Amamiya. Hyun-ae didn’t pay much attention. She was looking past them, at the shelves behind the bar. A mirror had been set up, and she used it to scan the patrons behind her.

    Most of them were working hard to be as unnoticeable as possible. A few glanced at the door, or rather, the guards standing by it. None of them made any move. The rest kept a close eye on Amamiya. Or most of them were.

    One patron was looking all over the place. From Amamiya and Hyun-ae, to the guards at the door, to an opening leading into the backrooms. Several times they shifted closer to the opening.

    Hyun-ae turned off the translator. “The one in the corner. I want to have a chat with them.”
    Amamiya turned to look at the alien and it froze. “Any particular reason?”
    “Intuition. Be ready.”
    “Got it.” He touched his radio. “All units, high alert.”

    Hyun-ae stepped away from the bar and walked slowly, but deliberately, towards the Lilarobius in the corner. They had frozen stiff, while the rest of the patrons followed her every stop.

    She was about two-thirds of the way when the alien threw a plate at her and lunged towards the opening. Hyun-ae lazily dodged the plate and watched as the suspect disappeared through the opening. She reached for her radio.
    “Charlie team, you got incoming. I want them alive. If possible.”

    She followed leisurely after the alien, the mess they’d left behind showing the way. When she stepped out the back door she found four soldiers on top of the alien. She knelt down next to it.

    “Good day. I am Detective Kim Hyun-ae of the occupation authority. I would like to ask you some questions. Were you at this establishment yesterday?”
    “No, I was at home. I haven’t done anything!” the alien managed to whimper.
    “For some reason, I’m having doubts about that. I asked the bartender, and they said you were here yesterday,” Amamiya said as came sauntering out the back door. “Good call, Detective.”
    “I’m innocent!” the alien shouted.
    “I want to have a word with Oak’s squad as well,” Hyun-ae said, ignoring the pleas. “They’ll be able to tell us if they’re the one Oak was last seen with.”
    “I’ll have the military police send them over to Fort Barbo as well,” Amamyia said. “Then we can establish a timeline in comfort.”
    “No! Wait! Don’t take me to the Fort!”

    But Detective Amamyia was already on the radio calling for a shuttle.

    * * *
    Humanity’s reaction to the unconditional surrender of the Lavis Republic played out in several stages. The first was the most immediate and most obvious. As the news spread[1], people took to the streets in celebration. On several colonies work ground to a halt as people were at first too busy partying, followed by being too hung over to do their jobs.

    kqVeO7X.jpg


    One of the many spontaneous street parties following the news of the surrender. Scenes like this played out across Human space and would sometimes literally last for days.
    The second stage was more gradual, and was not immediately recognised. Over the previous 30 years, there had been a gradual increase in the use of anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication, with a particularly large increase following the outbreak of the First Lavis War. Young people, especially those born around or after first contact with the Lilarobius, were especially prone to medication. In some places, more than 40% of those under 35 were on some form of mood-stabilising drug.

    With the threat of the Lavis now lifted, there was a gradual decrease in their use for the first time in decades and researchers who had attributed the increase to the threat of extinction felt vindicated. One former user described it “as if there no longer is a bear ready to pounce. Is this what we’re supposed to feel like?”

    The third, and most influential, stage began nine months after the surrender. Prior to the Johannes von Gmunden’s first jump to Alpha Centauri four decades earlier, most nations on Earth had maintained largely stagnant population numbers, with overpopulation and lack of work not encouraging large families. In Germany, they had expected this to change as new worlds, and new opportunities to make a living, were discovered. However, this did not materialise. China and Russia experienced a slight boom, given their far-flung colonies, but even for them the effect was limited.

    This changed with the end of the Lavis Republic, and most nations on Earth (but especially those with off-world colonies) saw a massive population boom. Dubbed the “Stellar Generation”, sometimes affectionately, sometimes derogatorily, these children would prove to be a massive pain for civic planners, as there was a marked increase in the need for hospitals, kindergartens, schools and everything else needed to support children.

    However, that was for the future. For the Space Security Administration, the surrender of the Lavis Republic brought a fresh problem: the largest military occupation in Human history.

    The planning for the occupation of the Ring began only days after the victory at the Battle of Lav and the destruction of the Ring Defense Fleet. Dozens of different plans were drawn up to consider various eventualities. As the siege wore on, these plans were iterated on and in some cases discarded and redrawn.

    The planning was complicated by conflicting priorities between the various Great Powers and Japan. Japan wanted nothing more than to demonstrate its military capability, and had an endless supply of soldiers. Germany, meanwhile, still haunted by the failure of the Australasian Intervention half a century earlier, wanted to keep troops (or rather, casualties) to a minimum. Russia, China and Canada were mostly interested in getting their troops home, but not in a way that would compromise the peace.

    After a lot of back and forth, it was decided to dig deep into the history books and try a method that had been used with some success almost two centuries earlier: the occupation of America following the Second Weltkrieg.

    Much like America, the amount of ground that any occupation of the Ring would need to cover was enormous: 3.6 times the surface area of Earth. Improved technology, and especially orbital supremacy, would give an edge compared to 1946, but it would not be nearly enough.

    However, much like the Union of Socialist American States, the Lavis Republic was not as unified as it had presented itself. Lingering regional differences had persisted since the end of the Unification Wars, despite (though some would say thanks to) at times ruthless repression from the government. This had been reinforced by the stalemate of the First Lavis War, and then reached a boiling point during the siege.

    So the SSA sought out suppressed minorities and other dissidents and elevated them to positions of regional power. Several of these groups had formed paramilitary militias to protect their communities during the siege. Few of these had ever engaged Human forces, as Humanity had not been the primary threat. Now they were given official sanction, and authority, to keep the peace.

    Another source of local manpower came from the defeated military. In the aftermath of the Australasian Intervention, one of the lessons learned was that disbanding the Australasian military following the invasion had been a mistake. This had sent thousands of young men, trained in armed combat, home. As there was no work to be found, these former soldiers would end up forming the backbone of the Australian insurgency.

    On the Ring, Humanity had taken millions as prisoners of war during their campaign. Now that the war was over many of these were released. However, prior to release, every soldier was given a choice: either be given 5.000 mark[2] and transportation to wherever they considered to be home, or be employed in a new “Ring Security Force” and be posted somewhere far from home. The hope was that this way they would not have divided loyalties about fighting “their own”.

    The Human part of the occupation would thus be placed in orbit, except for a single stronghold on the Ring. Human troops would only be deployed when the Security Force could not handle the situation. And Humanity would bring the full might of their military.

    A pattern thus formed, with local security skirmishing with insurgent forces and both sides trying to achieve their goals while avoiding escalating so much that Humanity got involved.

    The system was far from perfect and the Ring would be plagued with guerrilla war and terrorist attacks for years to come. But it did keep Human losses to a minimum. When later asked to defend the system, von Carlowitz stated that “If a bomb kills a hundred weeds and two Humans, the story back home will be about two Humans dying due to a security failure on my part. The aliens will be lucky if they’re mentioned as a footnote.”

    Steps were also taken to establish some form of civilian control, if only in name. Black Spruce, who had led the peace “negotiations” was allowed to form a cabinet that would assist with the distribution of aid and rebuilding critical infrastructure. Their mandate was severely limited, and Feldmarschall von Carlowitz and Admiral Shen routinely ignored them.

    Despite this, Black Spruce thrived in the position, positioning themselves as the “Savior of the Ring”, who had prevented the power-mad White Pine from killing them all in a blaze of nuclear fire. It thus caused a stir when Human forces arrested Black Sprue after five months, charging them with “crimes against sentient life”[3]. Black Spruce thus found themselves in a relatively small group of prisoners awaiting trial.

    Another playbook brought forth from the Second Weltkrieg was Desyndicalisation, now rebranded as Normalization[4]. The programme focused on imprinting a collective responsibility on the Lilarobius for the attempted genocide. But it was understood that some were more responsible than others.

    MpW2TRR.jpg


    The surrender brought significant political shifts on the Ring. Some called for a more open society, especially given White Pine’s increased authoritarianism following the First Lavis War. Others reached for religion, while more still asked that Humanity just leave them alone on the ring. Some of these causes even found Human sponsors willing to advocate on their behalf on Earth.
    Little of the Lavis Republic’s top leadership survived the war. As Human forces closed in, most chose to either commit suicide or go out fighting. Thus, those few that did survive were straddled with a disproportionate amount of responsibility. Most of them would face execution, with a handful sentenced to life in prison.

    But the Ring was not the only focus of the Space Security Administration. While the victory celebrations would go on for a while, the war had masked several developing problems.

    The most immediate was a rise in unemployment. While the militaries that had conquered the Ring had been relatively small considering the scale of their undertaking, demobilisation still meant thousands of returning soldiers. Most of whom expected more than a pat on the back before being thrown out on the streets.

    Compounding the issue was the sharp reduction in government spending on new warships. This led to several arms manufacturers and shipyards laying off workers. While the latter expected peace to bring more civilian work, this would take time. For some, this was not enough, and they decided to take matters into their own hands.

    RQQ0Z6x.jpg


    Following the war’s end, many governments resumed various basic income and social security programs that had been cut or curtailed to fund the needs of the military. These benefits were, needless to say, not extended to the Lilarobius.
    With the establishment of Chang'e and Russalka, Human trade routes were longer than ever. Massive transport ships with minimal crews would travel back and forth between the colonies and Earth, carrying equipment, vital supplies and people out, and bringing back the colony’s raw resources. The navy had spent years preoccupied with the Lavis Republic, so these routes were rarely patrolled.

    At first, the main issue was a rise in smuggling. Resources extracted within the Sol system were not subjected to the SSA tariffs, so over time a complicated system of “ore laundering” developed. High-value minerals and ores, especially those extracted from the hundreds of mining facilities that dotted Human space, were shuffled into mining stations in the Belt or around Saturn. When done properly, the outer systems seemed more sparse, while Sol boomed.

    To the SSA, smuggling was an unfortunate, but low-priority problem. But over time, other elements got involved. Using small, fast shuttles, often with rudimentary weapons bolted to them and operating from motherships, criminal elements would board transports and take the ship’s crew hostage. The boarders would then ransom the crew and ship back to the ship’s owner[5].

    This was a much more pressing problem for the SSA. Doubly so after the agricultural carrier Crescent Rose was boarded, and her crew massacred. Public outrage, mixed with economic concerns, led the Executive Council to order a new anti-piracy task force to be assembled. While only a handful of corvettes, these ships would patrol Humanity’s trade routes and often engage and detain suspected pirates. In peacetime, these postings would be some of the most sought-after, as they provided ambitious captains ample opportunities to prove themselves.

    xxdqlLa.jpg


    The Crescent Rose was an agricultural carrier ferrying supplies between Russalka and Earth. It is not clear why the boarders massacred the crew. The surviving pirates explained during their trial that the crew had attacked them some time after they gained control of the ship. The prosecution retorted by asking them why they had purged the ship’s surveillance systems shortly before being boarded the SMR Myrtenaster. All the surviving pirates were sentenced to life in prison.
    One could have assumed that between the occupation, smugglers and pirates, the Space Security Administration would have more than enough to deal with. Unfortunately, shortly after the surrender, a new problem emerged. One called Collodor IIIa.

    During the Siege of Lav, the SSA had redirected some funding to create a new exploration craft, the Clarence Chant[6]. During the war, she spent most of her time digging through wrecked Lavis ships. But with the end of the war, she set a course for the Collodor system, neighbouring Lav. Sensors suggested that a potentially hospitable world could be found there, untouched by the Lilarobius.

    Clarence Chant entered the Collodor system only days after the surrender came into effect. It didn’t take long before Earth received reports of a habitable ocean moon.

    s8YciD1.jpg


    Collodor IIIa, a small, fairly unremarkable, if life-sustaining moon.
    For the Canadian Prime Minister, Sophie Bouchard-Clarke, the reports were something of a disappointment. There had been some hope that whatever was in Collodor was more attractive than Samdeeran II, as the travel time would be significantly shorter.

    However, Collodor was rather small. While it would no doubt be of great interest to a smaller nation, Canadian pride demanded the greater prize. As Canada had been promised the world shortly after the First Lavis War, few held this against them.

    This opened two new questions: who would get Collodor IIIa, and who would get Samdeeran neighbour, Saldropis IIIa?

    USqyyHD.jpg


    Saldropis IIIa was, like Collodor, a small moon. It was, however, slightly larger and more resource-rich. It was also significantly less hospitable, with dense jungles covering most of the planet. These jungles were also host to several deadly apex predators.
    Most expected the Great Powers to continue parcelling out planets to themselves, or at least their close allies. This was certainly the plan in Berlin, Moscow, Beijing and Ottawa. But this did not consider Tokyo.

    Japan (and that is to say, the Japanese government, as few had much access to the Japanese public) had come out of the war with a renewed sense of pride. After their military successes on the Ring[7], they now considered themselves fully equal, a fifth Great Power. And they fully expected to be next in line for a world of their own.

    The actual Great Powers were less than pleased. They were even less pleased when, in a signal intercept from Admiral Ikegoshi to Emperor Tomohito and Minister-for-Life Furukawa, Ikegoshi described Saldropis as a “springboard for further colonisation”.

    While this little tidbit was kept a closely guarded secret, the Japanese desire to be next in line was quite public. This unleashed a fierce debate about how colonial rights should be administered. Some figured that Japan deserved it after their contribution during the war. Others considered them a threat. Some were concerned about a Great Power monopoly, while others argued that only they could protect such faraway worlds.

    Over time, the debates grew increasingly vicious, often mixing in old grievances and latent racism. This was often mirrored in the Administration Assembly, and while superficially more polite, where one could often draw a direct line from arguments in the press to arguments in the Assembly.

    German Chancellor Anna Schumacher, speaking to the press, remarked that “It seems that after defeating one enemy, we’re back to fighting ourselves again. Our oldest enemy. In a way, it’s comforting.”

    The solution came from an unexpected tragedy. Flash floods followed by an unexpected drought struck South America. The crops that weren’t washed away by the floods wilted under the scorching sun. The end result was famine. Humanitarian organisations rushed vast quantities of rice and other staples to the area, but struggled to reach several inaccessible areas.

    South America had never really recovered from the nuclear strikes of “El Error” nearly a century before. The continent had some of the lowest life expectancy on Earth, and the standard of living was appalling. Unemployment was colossal, and most of the nations in the area could not afford even a minimum of basic income.

    6Fy6KqM.jpg


    There had been great a great effort to rebuild following “El Error”, and the modern skyline of Curitiba was often used as an example of this. Though from any of these corporate high rises, one had an excellent view of the favelas stretching for miles in every direction.
    (Art by Zane Baylon)
    During this crisis, Prime Minister Sophie Bouchard-Clarke remarked that maybe the situation in South America could be alleviated by establishing a colony on Saldropis IIIa. The Great Powers could help by covering the up-front cost of the project, which would be offset by changes to the SSA tariffs they paid on their own colonies. Japan would of course get the unremarkable, but perfectly acceptable, Collodor moon.

    It is unclear if Bouchard-Clarke’s suggestion was idealistic, or coldly calculating, denying the Japanese their preferred colony and giving Canada a neighbour of their own choosing. In later statements, she would always claim the former. Regardless of her motivations, the Great Powers jumped at the idea. More importantly, the idea was popular with the public. Those that doubted Bouchard-Clarke’s motivations still had to acknowledge that a colony could improve the situation for South America.

    The only real opposition came from Japan and they found very little support. Behind the scenes, the Chinese security service decided to pull some strings. Using a poorly secured line that they knew the Japanese were monitoring, Chinese officials “discussed” their hope that Japan would reject the offer. They would then instead offer the world to their Korean allies.

    This was of course not true, but it spooked the Japanese. And it being “offered” to the Koreans especially wounded Japanese pride. As a result, Japanese opposition to the plan got a lot more muted following the “leak”.

    In July of 2144, less than a year after the surrender of the Lavis Republic, three colonial projects were brought before Administration Assembly. The first was the Canadian expedition to Samdeeran II, now called Albion. The second was the Japanese expedition to Collodor IIIa, dubbed Hoshi No Umi (星の海), or the Sea of the Stars. The last was a multinational expedition to Saldropis IIIa. Officially dubbed Andeas, the moon would soon be known as Lluvia, or Rain, after its most prominent feature.

    2JTuuEi.jpg


    Map of Human space following the Second Lavis War, including colonies (current and future), the Lav Occupation Zone and the Pithria observation station.
    The measures were approved, to great fanfare. After having the threat of extinction looming over Humanity for decades, there was again a sense of optimism related to space exploration.

    But as the Administration Assembly approved new colonies, the Executive Council were having meetings behind closed doors. Before the last colony ship had left Earth, Humanity’s relationship to the rest of the galaxy would once again shift.

    kxwmIGo.jpg

    [1] - Due to communication lag, it took two weeks for some of the farthest research stations to get the news. They nonetheless partied just as hard.

    [2] - Even by the standards of the time, this was a paltry amount. But the value of the Lavis Fells had collapsed along with the Republic, and Human currency thus became the backbone of the new Liliarobian economy.

    [3] - Black Spruce’s arrest was the result of Human researchers going through the remains of the Lavis Republic State Archives. A lot of government documentation had been destroyed during the war, both intentionally and accidentally. However, one archivist uncovered some speeches Black Spruce had made in the years leading up to the Second Lavis War. Needless to say, they didn’t paint them in a very good light.

    [4] - The term Delavification was briefly used, but was quietly dropped when the SSA realised that once translated it implied the Ring would be disassembled.

    [5] - Frequently this involved the ship’s operator bringing vast sums of money to middlemen in South America, India, Indonesia or, in one instance, Australia. The local governments often had little ability, or incentive, to go after these middlemen.

    [6] - Naming the ship after a Canadian astronomer had been intended to serve as a consolation for the delays in establishing a Canadian colony. It failed in its intended purpose, instead becoming a humiliating reminder for the Canadian government.

    [7] - Most non-Japanese commanders on the Ring had very few good things to say about the Japanese military. In his account of the invasion, written a decade later, von Carlowitz said that the chief virtue of the Japanese troops was “their expandability.”
     
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    The Deep
  • The Deep
    March 2146 - Shuckon Va - Borehole 2

    3r1DtNp.jpg


    Aerial image of Borehole 2. The moon was rather rich in various rare earth minerals and the boreholes were located around particularly rich areas.
    (Art by Tony Holmsten)​

    Dr. Hermann Adler did a final check on his hazmat suit, then turned to Dr. Carolina de Sousa. They went through the thirty second buddy check, making sure all the seals were good to go. Then they stepped through decontamination, and out the airlock.

    The walk to the borehole was exhausting. Every day he walked the distance, and every day he was soaked in sweat before even beginning his workday. Some of the blame probably rested on him. He was not in the best shape. But the main culprit was no doubt the damn hazmat suit. Just working in the damn thing was exhausting enough, having to walk up a hill over uneven ground every day was downright torture. The thin atmosphere would require some form of protective gear, but a breathing mask would do. And it would be vastly superior to the personal sauna he was currently wearing.

    After enduring his own private hell for fifteen minutes, they finally reached the edge of the borehole. And after checking in with the site manager, they stepped into the lift and began their descent. Hermann leaned against the mesh walls, panting.

    Dr. Sousa studied him, part amusement, part concern on her face. "Have you considered giving cardio a go?"
    "I'm afraid cardio was not part of the curriculum back at university."
    "Strange. I thought archaeologists were always running from rolling boulders or collapsing temples."
    "Heh..." Hermann stood up straighter. His breathing wasn't quite as ragged anymore, but there was still a fair bit of condensation on his face plate. "I'm afraid the most danger I've been in as an archaeologist was when I was stuck in an alien airlock for half an hour."
    "That'll be an exciting tale to tell the grandkids: 'Dr. Adler's thrilling escape from the alien airlock'."

    Hermann chuckled as the lift trundled down into the dark. Far below, they could a hint of light.

    "Tell me, how much of this is really necessary?"
    Dr. Sousa frowned. "This?"
    "This." Hermann motioned to the suit.
    The epidemiologist's frown deepened. "Off the record?"
    "Off the record."

    She leaned against the side of the lift. "The risk of transmission is effectively zero. The Irassians have - had - a biochemistry based on dextra-amino acids, while Humans use levo-amino acids. When you add this to the regular issues with cross-species infection, and the fact that the Irassians have been dead for millennia..."
    "You don't rate the risk as particularly high."
    "We're more likely to catch a different, wholly unrelated, super-virus on this rock. And everyone in the field knows it. But try explaining that to the politicians. Or their PR teams."

    Hermann groaned. "Are you telling me that the reason I almost suffer a heart attack every morning is because--"
    "Of a journalist who read the abstract of a study on epidemiology once. Seven or eight years ago. And the study has been revised twice since then."
    "Not to mention the seven different studies that reached the opposite conclusion." He groaned. But at least he felt slightly better about his morning torture.

    "Just don't tell any of them about this. The politicians are only funding this expedition because a killer plague is scary."
    Hermann grunted. He knew better than to jeopardise funding.

    The lift passed the floodlights and the bottom of the borehole turned from blinding brightness to a perfectly illuminated crime scene. Piles of mummified Irassian corpses littered the bottom. They'd managed to clear enough space to erect a small tent where Dr. Sousa and her colleagues could examine the bodies after Hermann and his team had carefully extracted them from the pile.

    Seeing the pile was always sobering. Maybe the politicians had a point. Emotionally, at least.

    "How many do you think there are?" Sousa asked.
    "We've got 572 confirmed individuals so far. They updated the estimate last night to 1800, give or take a hundred."
    "And that's not accounting for other sites."
    "No." They'd discovered seventeen boreholes so far on this rock. They'd only inspected two others so far, and both were empty. The documents they'd found at Yotla suggested that the miners had been evacuated, but how many actually got off-world was unclear.

    The lift reached the bottom with a clang, and the two of them stepped out. Sousa went straight for the tent, and Hermann decided to accompany her.

    Inside the tent they found Dr. Stroll poking at the six-limbed remains of an Irassian while an automated assistant took notes. The body was, as most of them were, mangled by the impact. Only one of the limbs was intact, and much of the lower body was bent unnaturally.

    "Good morning, Doctor. Anything interesting?" Sousa asked as they entered.
    "Nothing we haven't seen a hundred times already. Significant blunt-force trauma, inflicted a few hours after death, and the lungs are a mush of necrotic tissue and blood clots." Stroll looked up at them with the deadpan expression he'd become known for. "Using my expert skills honed over many years, I deduct that this individual succumbed to the Jovian Pox, and was later thrown down a borehole."
    "Really? This changes everything." Hermann tried to match his deadpan. He wasn't as good at it.

    Sousa stepped up to the table and looked down at the corpse. "So... bag it and send it up for the anthropologists to have a look at?"
    "Bag it and send it up," Stroll agreed.

    Hermann gave Sousa apart on the back. "You have fun with that. I'll go and dig out another corpse for you. Who knows, maybe we'll find another one that was euthanized before it was thrown down."
    "That would be nice. Variety is necessary in all aspects of life," Stroll said, just as deadpan as before.

    Hermann stepped out of the tent and saw his co-workers by the corpse pile. They were carefully trying to extract the jumbled limbs of two Irassians from each other.
    "I have the strangest job," he said to himself as he walked over.

    * * *
    The war with, the invasion of, and the ultimate downfall of the Lavis Republic had dominated the headlines and the attention of policymakers for years. However, that did not mean the rest of Human space sat around doing nothing. Along the galactic rim, around Russalka, exciting discoveries were being made. Two Irassian sites, reasonably intact, had been uncovered.

    The Irassians had somewhat faded into the background following first contact with the Lavis Republic, but they remained a subject of great interest among the archaeological community. So far only a handful of other sites had been found, typically mining stations and the like. The story was always the same, with the crew being quarantined, then dying, following confirmed exposure to the Jovian Pox.

    That changed with the examination of a massive orbital complex in the Yolta system. After careful examination, archaeologists were able to identify the facility as the Irassian Concordant’s Authority on Disease Control. As this discovery was made around the same time as the Battle of Lav and the early phase of the siege, the Executive Council approved further examination in-between planning the ground invasion of the ring.

    ptQ76Jx.jpg


    The examination of the site confirmed what most archaeologists and epidemiologists had long suspected. The entire Irassian civilisation was destroyed by the plague.
    The findings were frightening. Just as the existential threat of the Lavis Republic was being contained, a new one appeared. One that couldn’t be fought with fleets.

    There was, however, some good news. Some of the surviving records suggested that the Irassians were especially vulnerable to infectious disease. Hopefully, that meant Humans would be safe.

    Amongst the surviving records, there were also details about a nearby mining colony that had been hard hit by the plague. After wrapping up their investigation in Yolta, the expedition set course for one of the Shuckon system’s moons.

    Operating in the same system as Russalka made the operation much easier from a logistics point of view. And while the mining facilities had long since been worn away by the thin atmosphere, the massive boreholes left behind were visible from space.

    PEQhm36.jpg


    The thin atmosphere and the lack of any native bacteria had left the Irassian bodies remarkably intact. In total 1.844 individual bodies were recovered, all found in a single borehole.
    The discovery helped confirm that the Irassian immune system was especially weak. This did quell some concerns, however, the SSA was still interested in investigating the situation. If anything, Humanity could learn from the Irassian Concordat’s demise, should there ever be a similar plague sweeping the galaxy. Administration ships were instructed to report any Irassian findings, and a bounty was established for information on Irassian sites.

    On the Ring, a different kind of archaeology was taking place. Digging through the surviving Lavis Republic archives, researchers found several warnings about the Ishnor system, only two jumps from the Ring. Most of the records described it as “a remnant” and the Lavis government had considered it to be a major threat to the Ring.

    Further digging, and the interrogation of the handful of surviving members of the Ring Defence Fleet painted a better picture.

    The Ishnor system had been the site of the Lilarobius’ last stand prior to the partial destruction of the Ring. A massive fleet battle had taken place, one that destroyed their fleet. However, as the enemy fleet moved on to bombard the Ring, a nanobot repair system built into one of the destroyed ships suffered a malfunction. It began “repairing” the ships, bolting them together in an unholy Frankenstein’s monster of a ship.

    C0kUwgu.jpg


    The Scrap Bot, as it was colloquially known, was one of the most powerful ships in the galaxy. This was despite its ramshackle design.
    (Image taken from the former Lavis Republic State Archive)
    The system was immediately declared off-limits, with all Human navigation systems set to not permit jumping to the Ishnor system. Most were just glad to have avoided another incident like the loss of the Andreas Stöberl[1].

    As all this was going on, the Executive Council was deep in secret talks with the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association. A diplomatic slip-up on the Suramo’s side had revealed that they were in diplomatic contact with a handful of other species. The Executive Council hoping to get a clearer strategic picture, asked the Suramo to act as liaisons for them.

    After a bit of back-and-forth negotiations, the Suramo agreed to relay the messages. In return, they would get a formal promise of future cooperation[2].

    The first species was the Hazar, of the Hierarchy of Hazi. The Hazar were yet another species that rewrote Humanity’s understanding of biology. They were a species of parasitic fungus that would infect an indigenous species of bear-analogues. The fungus would then take control of the creature’s nervous system, assuming direct control. The Hazar avoided questions about the bear-analogue remaining conscious after infection.

    XHfoyzu.jpg


    The Hierarchy of Hazi had an extremely autocratic government structure, with most power being wielded directly by Primarch Jhutleeg. On Earth, comparisons were made to the Australian State.
    The second contact were the Celimy, of the Versum Divine Empire. The Celimy were in many ways the alien Humanity had expected to find half a century earlier. A mass of slimy tentacles, they looked like they belonged in a 1950s adventure serial.

    gswwzAU.jpg


    Like the Hazi, the Versum Divine Empire was an autocratic state, though they were ruled by a monarch claiming divine right.
    Relations got off on the wrong foot when Humanity realised just how bad Suramo - Celimy relations were. According to the Suramo, the Celimy had carried out several raids on isolated colonies and outposts. The main goal seems to have been the Suramo themselves, as survivors of the raids claimed they saw scores of Suramo being herded onto ships like cattle. The Celimy denied this, but it was an open secret that a large portion of the Versum economy depended on slave labour.

    The third contact was something of a disappointment, as the Ugarlak Forerunners did not respond to Humanity’s hails.

    UkVIEbv.jpg


    The Ugarlaks were yet another old species, survivors of the previous cycle. Following the wars that sundered the galaxy, they took it upon themselves to preserve the biodiversity of sentient life. Ugarlak space contained dozens of species that were otherwise extinct.​

    The reaction on Earth to three new civilisations was fairly muted compared to previous encounters. Whether the main factor was a degree of cynicism regarding alien life, or just distance making them seem less important, was unclear.

    However, if Humanity weren’t interested in the aliens, the aliens were interested in Humanity. It only took a few days before the Hazar wished to establish formal diplomatic relations.

    nZIgrXM.jpg


    The Hazar had heard about the Russalka phones from the Suramo, and were keen on getting one themselves so they could communicate with Humanity in private.​

    This request proved to be somewhat controversial. The Administration Assembly debated at length whether to establish direct communications or not. The salient issue was the autocratic nature of the Hierarchy. Several members feared that establishing diplomatic relations could serve to legitimise the regime. Opponents argued that having a direct line of communication was not legitimising, but a vital component in the two species understanding each other.

    In the end, the request was approved with a slim majority and a new Russalka phone was shipped off.

    A week after the decision had been made, the Celimy contacted the Suramo with a very simple message. Humanity was not welcome in Versum space.

    xWYupRP.jpg


    Closing the borders to Human traffic was largely a symbolic gesture, as there were no Human ships anywhere close to Versum space.​

    At first, it was thought that this was a reaction to Human - Hazar diplomatic ties, but over time it became clear that it was Humanity’s relations with the Suramo that was the problem. While the Hierarchy of Hazi was a close ally of the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association, they had had little contact with the Versum directly. Meanwhile, Humanity having good relations with the Trade Association was enough for the Celimy to consider Humanity persona non grata.

    kuvfZZu.jpg


    Map of the various powers shortly after the Second Lavis War. The SSA had little information about exact borders, as much of their information was second-hand.​

    Overall, the discovery of three new civilisations had remarkably little influence on Human strategic concerns. The main takeaway was that spinward expansion beyond former Lavis territory would only lead to border disputes. As Humanity’s expansion was mainly counter-spinward, this had minimal effect on decisionmaking.

    There were concerns about tensions in the region escalating, and what role Humanity should play if that happened. But overall the mood on Earth was to leave the region alone and not risk getting involved in any armed confrontations. Time would tell if Humanity got their wish.


    [1] - A Beldross Hive ship exploring the former territory of the Lavis Republic was detected heading for the Ishnor system. The ship was warned about the threat, but the Beldross replied that the ship was expendable. A few days later, the Beldross embassy on Earth thanked Humanity for the warning. The ship had survived their encounter with the Scrap Bot, and gathered valuable data.

    [2] - The Trade Association were perfectly happy to help Humanity establish diplomatic contact, as they were hoping to establish more concrete trade relations. However, the Trade Association board had rules in place prohibiting giving away Association “property” without getting something in return. A simple IOU was enough.
     
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    Tannenberg
  • Tannenberg​

    April 2147 - Al-Aziz - Erzal’s Grill & Bar

    WZXBtrZ.jpg


    The corporate colony of Al-Aziz was well known for its nightlife, with almost every interest catered to. It was generally considered a perk for whoever worked there and was often listed as such in recruitment brochures.​

    “Maybe I’m just an idiot, but I still don’t get why the war started,” Jarzom said as he put the mug down. “The introduction said some guy got shot, but how does that translate to years of bloody fighting?”
    “I did some research before, and I think I have the basic gist of it,” Velim said. “Basically, the guy who got shot was the heir to one of the big empires fighting the war. When he was killed, the government tried to punish the nation responsible, but they were allied with the Russians. And the Russians had other allies, and it all spiralled out of control from there.”
    “That’s pretty stupid,” Jarzom said.
    “I think the Humans agree with you there,” Velim said with a smirk.

    A waitress came up with three new mugs of Veltech brand zorum. Arvon wasn’t a big fan of Veltech, but they had the intoxicant monopoly on Al-Aziz. It was one of the small annoyances of his new job.

    “So what do you think about the film overall?” Arvon asked his two friends.
    “It was frikkin’ weird,” Jarzom said. “Not in a bad way, but I don’t think I really understood it. Beyond there being a big battle and one side getting their ass handed to them.”

    That wasn’t unexpected. Jarzom liked films, but he wasn’t exactly what you would consider a film connoisseur. He watched all the big blockbusters but ask him if he wanted to see something a bit more cerebral or experimental he would probably fall asleep in his seat. Still, he was an important data point. If someone like Jarzom liked the film, then odds were good it would do well on the general market.

    And he didn’t need to go far to see the reaction. The bar was full of satisfied moviegoers discussing Tannenberg. Maybe he should do a round before he left and ask for their opinions. It would do well in his report to his superiors.

    “What about you, Velim?”
    “I think I’ll have to watch it again. To make sure I understand it properly. Maybe do some research into the war so I get the full context.”
    “You’re in luck,” Arvon said. “We’re working to localise a twenty-part Human documentary about the war. Should hopefully release next month.”
    “Hmm… I don’t know if I want to wait a whole month. I’ll think about it.”

    “So how are the Humans reacting?” Jarzom asked. “I read that they would get one of our films as part of the arrangement.”
    “Yeah. They’re showing ’Storm Lord: Rise of Vile League’ now.”
    “Oh, man! They’re in luck. That fight between Storm Lord and Abanazar at the end was awesome.”
    “We have a very different idea of awesome. And luck,” Velim said. “I couldn’t stop rolling my eyes during that film. I hope the Humans have better taste than Jarzom.”
    “I guess it depends on your point of view. Most of the reviews we’ve gotten translated and sent back are saying stuff like ‘incomprehensible’ and ‘I had no idea who these characters were’. But most viewings are sold out.”

    Velim frowned. “Wait, did they release the film without the previous, what, twenty films?”
    “Seventeen. And yes.”
    “Well, that’s stupid. Why would they do that?”
    “There was a lot of hype surrounding the film,” Arvon said, taking a sip of his zorum. He grimaced. It tasted like it had been fermented in a toilet.

    The real reason the latest Storm Lord film had been released in the Human market was the opposite of there being a lot of hype. The Storm Lord films, and the entire extended Nervern universe, were falling in the charts. Slowly, but the general audience included a lot more Velims than Jarzoms these days. The board hoped to pump the numbers before the next investor meeting by tapping into the massive Human market.

    “We’re releasing the other films in order in the coming months. Maybe their opinions will change once they get proper context.”
    “I hope we get more Human films as well,” Velim said.
    “We will. The next one is supposed to be about the ‘Syndicalist War’, which happened a few decades after the war depicted in Tannenberg.”
    “Wait, I thought that war was supposed to be the ‘War to end all wars’?”
    “Yeah. It didn’t work.”
    “The Humans were at war when we made first contact with them, so clearly not,” Velim said.

    Jarzom leaned back in his seat and took a deep chug of his zorum. He liked the Veltech zorum, a fact that Arvon struggled to accept.
    “I wonder if we’ll ever get to visit the Humans.”
    “It might be possible, at some point. But they’re pretty far away,” Arvon said. “Even sending simple messages to them is stupidly expensive.”
    “I would love to talk to them about film,” Velim said. “Either over messages, or in person over drinks. That would be so cool.”

    Arvon didn’t disagree. They seemed like an interesting bunch. And there were lots of potential for cultural exchange.

    He took another sip, and for a moment Arvon thought about serving Veltech zorum to Humans. Maybe they would like it. Another cultural exchange. Or maybe it would poison them.

    * * *​

    Despite Humanity having been in contact with alien life for decades, the effects of it on daily life had mostly been limited to existential dread brought on by the Lavis Republic. With that threat gone, there was little to take its place. With the exception of the Beldross Hive’s embassy making occasional public appearances, one could be forgiven for thinking Earth had never made contact. That was about to change.

    In early 2147, the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association approached the Executive Council about a formal trade agreement. There had been some trade prior to this, mostly art and cultural crafts being bought by collectors on both sides. However, travel times were long and the trade routes required travelling through Beldross territory. While the Beldross were, for the time, okay with Human cargo ships traversing their space, it did increase the risk of any venture. As a result, alien culture was mostly limited to wealthy collectors and a handful of museums, like the Louvre and the newly established Stettin Museum of Space Exploration and Off-World Culture[1].

    9HUhgUi.jpg


    While alien art and culture were limited, technological achievements from space exploration were consistent crowd-pleasers. Shown: a Focke-Wulf TA 1400 high-altitude exploration craft on display at the National Museum of Science and Technology in Spain. The FW TA 1400 was essentially a one-man rocketship, used to explore the upper atmosphere of various planets. The craft was a core component of any expedition until 2134, when they were retired in favour of the 1450 model.
    (Art by Ben Andrews)​

    Most of the items were also either high art or archaeological artefacts recovered from various dig sites. The WBTA recognised this, and saw an opportunity. While the Russalka phones had limited bandwidth and were prioritised for diplomatic, military and economic communication, they did spend a lot of time dormant. The WBTA thus suggested that this downtime be used to transmit various bits of popular media for distribution in their respective markets.

    2u1GLZb.jpg


    The trade agreement did favour the WBTA somewhat, but it was not to such an extent that Humanity considered declining the offer. While the Executive Council were keen on more trade, their main goal was good relations with one of the major powers in what was a potential powder keg.​

    The idea was warmly welcomed, and arrangements were put in place for both parties to distribute films in their territory.

    The Human film was the 2114 Russo-German co-production Tannenberg, a loose adaptation of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s August 1914. Released on the second centennial of the battle, the film was a massive success, earning seven Riefenstahl awards[2]. There were some concerns that a film about a bloody battle might not show Humanity in its best light, but these concerns were dismissed[3].

    The Suramo sent Storm Lord: Rise of Vile League, the 18th film in a long-running series. The film depicted Beramo Cilym, also known as Storm Lord, as he battled the Vile League. Storm Lord, who had gained the power to control the weather after a freak accident with cosmic rays two films earlier, was a long-running character in the extended Nervern universe. A billionaire entrepreneur who used his powers to defend the weak, Storm Lord was originally conceived as the ‘ideal Suramo businessman’.

    Both films were lambasted by reviewers in their respective markets. Storm Lord was released out of order, yet the film assumed the audience's familiarity with the characters. Tannenberg fared better in this regard, as the distributors had decided to tack on a fifteen-minute introduction to the cause of the First Weltkrieg. But trying to explain European geopolitics to an audience who had never heard of Europe was an uphill battle.

    Despite a poor critical reception, the films were massively successful, with sold-out theatres for weeks. This paved the way for more cultural exchange and more films. The Suramo would release The Grey Sword, the first film in the Nervern universe. Humanity would release the English 1987 classic Two Minutes to Noon, about the nuclear bombing of London, Oswald Mosley’s refusal to surrender and the ensuing coup d’etat.

    But it was not only commercial interests the WBTA was interested in. In 2148, they would approach Humanity about a technology-sharing agreement. When the Administration Assembly debated the proposal they rejected it with 97% of the vote. Technological superiority, especially the Ocelot-class gunships, had been critical to winning the Second Lavis War. As such, Humanity guarded its advantage jealously, even to potentially friendly parties.

    E9BQEmD.jpg


    While the Suramo offer was attractive, Humanity’s experiences with aliens were still influenced by their experiences with the Lavis Republic. Many feared it would take decades before Humanity could stand shoulder to shoulder to shoulder with other species and not worry about being stabbed in the back.​

    If the Suramo were disappointed, they did not show it. As soon as it was clear that Humanity would reject their proposal, they switched tack. If they could not get technology, maybe they could instead get peace.

    wJ78BFZ.jpg


    The Suramo’s suggestion of a non-aggression pact had a much warmer reception in the Administration Assembly. It passed with 86% of the vote. Most of those voting against it were the Japanese delegation and a handful of non-interventionists who were afraid of any deeper entanglements in the region.​

    Beyond this, it was a quiet period for Humanity. Slowly, Humanity would expand into the Light’s End cluster, the former Lavis - Beldross border. Light’s End was strategically important, as the system housed an L-gate.

    NMH7p7W.jpg


    The L-gates were more leftovers from the last cycle. Part of a poorly understood transportation system, the one at Light’s End showed signs of being tampered with. Scientists hoped further study could unlock its secrets.​

    Beyond the L-gate, the cluster was also home to a spinward hyperlane. It was hoped that given time this could be used to find a trade route to the WBTA. However, the SSA had neither the resources, nor the inclination, to expand spinwards. As such, the Executive Council proposed the Von Rad decree[4], stating that Humanity would, for the time, not expand spinward of the Light’s End cluster. The statement was mostly targeted at the alien states in the region. Humanity was interested in good, or at least decent, relations, and would not compromise them for simple territorial gain.

    This proposal met with some resistance in the Assembly, once again from the Japanese, but also from other parties who saw it as Humanity giving up the initiative. However, the measure passed after a fair bit of behind-the-scenes horse-trading and assurances.

    RiFPaZK.jpg


    Former Lavis - Beldross border, now Human - Beldross border. The Beldross defence stations were built sometime before the Second Lavis War. The fact that the Beldross were trying to defend the entire border instead of pulling back a few systems and concentrating their defences gave key insights into Beldross military thinking. Raumstreitkräfte planners wondered if this blunder was representative of their military.​

    There had been a hope that Humanity claiming the Light’s End cluster would keep the spinward hyperlane unclaimed, but the Beldross were of a different mind. It is unclear if the hive mind was making a deliberate provocation, or was operating according to the letter of the Von Rad decree. Regardless, the Hive expanded past the Human border systems, cutting their territory in two. While the existing freedom of navigation treaties with the Hive meant that there was no immediate problem, it could become a strategic wrinkle for both sides. However, that was a problem for another day.

    This was of little concern domestically. Instead, the issue of colonising rights reared its head once again. The previous three ships had only just left Earth when the SSA announced that they were starting to plan for an expedition to Tazri B III. Another ocean world, this world was so far the most far-flung, almost at the border to the Rixi.

    vEjM0eC.jpg


    Unlike the somewhat marginal moons that had been previously colonised, Tazri B III was considered a valuable prize for whichever government got it. While poor in minerals and possessing an especially strong magnetic field, the sheer size of the planet gave it massive potential.​

    Having dealt with the Japanese in the previous game of colonial rights\musical chairs, the Great Powers were ready to divvy the rest of Human space up between their allies. Among those in the inner circles, it was understood that the next expedition would be a joint expedition between Ireland, Scotland, England and Wales. All were well inside the German fold, and together they possessed enough economic power to pay for the expedition on their own. Thus, when the “Equality Among the Stars” campaign launched, it caused a bit of derailment[5].

    The Equality Among the Stars campaign’s demands were simple enough. With the establishment of the South American colony of Lluvia underway, only one (populated) continent did not have their own colony: Africa.

    If this campaign unsettled the Germans, they did not show it. The plans for a joint expedition were shelved, and a new plan headed by the Central African Federation was proposed instead. The sudden turnabout by the Germans caused whiplash among the EAtS’ campaigners, who had clearly expected more opposition[6]. While some members claimed that the CAF was just another German puppet, the majority welcomed the shift with open arms.

    On the 9th of April, 2148, the Administration Assembly voted that Tazri B III was to be settled by the Central African Federation. The new colony would be named Nzau, after Günther Nzau, the first president of the CAF, and the venture would receive financial backing from the German state.

    As the end of Humanity’s first half-century in space came to a close, the mood was once again elated. It seemed that Humanity was on the cusp of another golden age, and all they would have to do was seize it. But there was one more surprise before the decade was over.

    On the 11th of November, 2149, Japanese state media announced that the Divine Emperor Tomohito had reascended to godhood.



    [1] - The latter had, rather controversially, several items taken from the Ring. While many of these items would either be given back or have some sort of leasing agreement worked out, some were never returned. Rather infamously, the museum refused any requests to return the Rose Casket.

    [2] - Including Best Acting, Best Film, Best Directing, Best Screenplay, Best Score, Best Costuming and Best Visual Effects.

    [3] - War films had also been the backbone of the German, and later European, film scene since the First Weltkrieg. Many of the most acclaimed and profitable films ever made were war films.

    [4] - Named after Julia von Rad, the German representative to the Executive Council who had spearheaded the initiative

    [5] - A popular conspiracy theory at the time claimed that the campaign was the result of Japanese agitation. There is no real evidence of this, but the theory has remained popular. Largely thanks to Crown Prince Yutahito actions a few years later.

    [6] - A few years after the campaign had dissolved, boxes of leaflets were found abandoned in a warehouse. Many of these leaflets were much more critical of the Great Powers, and often used quite harsh language.
     
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    The Confederacy
  • The Confederacy​

    November 2150 - Berlin - Deutscher Reichsrundfunk Studio 6

    39x42uN.jpg


    Guten Morgen Deutschland was one of Deutscher Reichsrundfunk’s most important shows, having been on air continuously since 2007. Thanks to a combination of high viewership and softball questions, most prominent German politicians would find themselves on the show dozens of times over their careers.
    (Art by Yaroslav Kononenko)​

    Anja Bornemann shifted in her chair as the man behind the camera counted down. Despite years of media training, the final few seconds before the cameras turned on were always nerve-wracking. Opposite her sat both hosts with that professional calmness. She wondered if they were used to it, or just good at hiding it.

    “Six, five, four.” The cameraman counted the last three seconds down with his fingers.
    “Welcome back, Germany,” Albin Mucke said to the camera. “It seems Bayern FC did quite well last night. I’m sure the people on Großbayern will be quite pleased when the news reaches them. Did you see the game, Clara?”
    “You know I don’t watch people run after a ball, Albin”, Clara Blumenberg said with a well-practised smile.
    “You don’t know what excitement you’re missing. Anyway…” Mucke turned to Anja with an equally practised smile. “Today we’re joined by Anja Bornemann, who is heading the Deutschkonservative Partei’s list in the upcoming Confederate election. Anja, welcome.”

    “Thank you, Albin. It’s a pleasure to be here.”
    “Anja, this must be terribly exciting,” Blumenberg said. “The first election to this new Confederate assembly. You could be making history.”
    “Oh, I intend to. And yes, it is quite exciting. Nobody really knows what to expect.”

    “What do you hope to achieve, should you be elected?”
    Should I be elected, Anja mused. She topped the DKP list, which basically guaranteed her a seat, barring the entire party dissolving in the coming months. Still, campaigning required some degree of polite fiction.

    “We intend to keep a firm course, making sure that both German and Human interests are maintained as we deal with the various alien realms to our galactic west.”

    She’d spent days with her team formulating that statement. The truth was they didn’t have any real policy. Nobody did. There was such broad consensus that there was effectively no difference in policy between the SPD, the DKP, the DRP or Zentrum. The only ones with differing policies were the Einheitspartei, who wanted to poke the hornet’s nest to the west with the fleets, and the Syndicalists, who wanted to dissolve the confederate project before it began.

    “And how are you intending to achieve that?” Mucke asked. “Fleet expansion? Diplomatic overtures to the aliens?”
    “Well, the Raumstreitkräfte will be taking much firmer control of the fleet under the new system, so the question of fleet expansion will be left to the Reichstag. As to diplomatic overtures, I suspect those will be present, if limited. The reality is that they’re still incredibly far away. Though I suspect we will continue getting alien cinema in our theatres.”

    “Ahh… Yes,” Blumenberg said with a smile that looked like it had been stapled in place. “They’re quite a sensory experience.”
    I guess that’s one way to describe incomprehensible drivel.

    “Speaking of aliens, not all of them are beyond our borders,” Mucke said. “There have been some concerns about the changes happening on the Ring. Could you perhaps explain some of these to our viewers?”
    “I understand that people are concerned about the situation on the Ring, but I want to assure everyone that we will not let the Lavis Republic re-emerge. The changes are fairly minor and entirely confined to the Ring. In fact, I spoke to Admiral Xian Shen a few weeks back, and she made it clear that she will not allow a resurgent Lavis Republic.”

    “I understand that Admiral Shen is also running for a seat in the assembly. Representing China?” Blumenberg said.
    “Yes. Lovely woman, and I look forward to working with her. She has a clarity of purpose that I wish more politicians had.”

    “Well, she certainly showed the weeds back during the war. They’d be insane to invite another Battle of Lav,” Mucke said.
    Anja did her most practised PR smile. “Are we allowed to say that on TV?”
    Blumenberg laughed without missing a beat. It was a very strange laugh. Disarming, yet it cut through the conversation like a railgun shot.

    “The subject of colonisation rights has come up time and time again. It seems every time we find a planet, there is a fight for it. Do you think that these reforms can bring some sense of order to these proceedings?”
    It was an expert deflection. Time would tell if it worked. But it allowed Anja to talk about the few bits of policy she actually had, so it was a win in her book.

    “Well, you are right that the issue is always somewhat… chaotic. But this is one field where–”
    The producer waved cut from behind the camera. The cameras cut immediately. Both hosts gave him a side eye, but remained seated.

    “I’m sorry everyone. We’ve just been cut for breaking news.”
    “What’s going on?” Anja asked. She hadn’t been briefed on any pressing issues.
    “I don’t know. They just gave me fifteen seconds to cut the feed. The last time it was this urgent, the weeds declared war on us.”

    That chilled the room several degrees. Behind the cameras, one of the technicians switched on a TV. It showed the DRR breaking news screen. Slowly, people gathered around the TV.

    It didn’t take long before Hans Egon Weisz appeared on screen in a black suit and a solemn face. Anja knew it would be bad. Weisz was the DRR’s top presenter, but his makeup was shoddy. It had clearly been done in a hurry.

    "Good morning. We apologize for the interruption, but the DRR has an important announcement." Weisz licked his lips. "The Imperial Household has just announced the death of Kaiser Wilhelm lX. The Kaiser passed away peacefully in his sleep last night. The Kaiserin has been informed, and the Chancellor will hold a press conference at eleven. The DRR will now run a special report on the death of the Kaiser."

    The screen faded to black as sombre music began playing. The room was quiet.
    Well fuck… Anja thought.

    * * *​

    The death of Divine Emperor Tomohito, posthumous name Kōmyō, came as a shock to the population of Japan. The announcement, delivered by a pair of openly weeping NHK newscasters, came from the blue and resulted in a month-long mourning period.

    Outside Japan, the news was far less shocking, at least among those that paid any attention to the region. Emperor Tomohito’s declining health had been clear for a long time, with Chinese and Korean intelligence suspecting that he’d been suffering from bowel cancer. The fact that bowel cancer was an easily treatable disease in most developed nations was seen as further proof of Japan’s backward neo-feudal society.

    Tomohito’s son, Nagahito, was enthroned only days after the mourning period ended. It did not take long before he showed how his character differed from his father.

    qYlzQ9V.jpg


    Nagahito in his official portrait. Little was known about him, with conflicting reports that he had attended university in Beijing, Bern and Paris. Even his age was uncertain, with most analysts putting him somewhere between thirty and forty-five.
    (Art by Yang Yang)​

    The first signs came during his father’s funeral service, where he claimed to have been approached by the sun god Amaterasu herself. In this supposed meeting, Ameratsu had told him that she had abandoned Japan because of corruption brought to the island by foreigners after the end of the Sakoku in 1868. This corruption, and the lack of Ameratsu’s guidance, had gradually caused the nation to decay, leading to the disastrous war with Russia in the 1940s. In the two centuries since then, Japan had languished in decay and stagnation. But now Ameratsu had returned, to lead the Japanese to restored greatness. And Divine Emperor Nagahito would be her tool.

    While how the Japanese public reacted to this was difficult to assess, the reaction outside of Japan was one of ridicule. Especially in Korea, where “speaking to Ameratsu” became a common punchline. In diplomatic and intelligence circles, most adopted a “wait and see” approach. They didn’t have to wait long.

    Three weeks following Nagahito's enthronement, vast police raids were conducted across Japan. Hundreds of business leaders, military officers and political leaders were arrested, most notably Prime Minister-for-Life Furukawa. In all cases, the charge was the same: high treason. The punishment was always death.

    2DcPGtP.jpg


    While most of those arrested were subjected to a short show trial before facing a firing squad, the senior members of the military and previous government faced a significantly more spectacular end. Former Prime Minister-for-Life Furukawa and his cabinet were executed by a 16-gun artillery battery.​

    This naturally caused a fair bit of concern in East Asia, as the new Emperor also regularly railed against the “corrupt Great Powers”, castigating them regularly in television and radio addresses. However, there was little concrete action taken by the Emperor. The most significant was the redeployment of the handful of Japanese troops still stationed on the Ring.

    This was a relatively minor issue for the Great Powers, as the Ring was at this point largely policed by the Lilarobius themselves. What raised eyebrows was that the troops were not brought back to Earth, but instead deployed to Hoshi no Umi. The Japanese colony had only become self-sufficient a few months earlier. The Japanese government also began shipping in colonists at an unprecedented rate, with ships packed to the brim with cryo-pods. While hard numbers are difficult to get, most estimates put as many as 50.000 individuals per ship, more than five times as many as the largest, specially-designed, colony ships would carry.

    At the same time, reports from the Japanese countryside told of entire villages being marched to the nearest spaceport, often at gunpoint. Orbital imaging corroborated this, with not only villages, but also entire cities being devoid of life. In September of 2150, Emperor Nagahito announced what was already clear to everyone watching: the Empire of Japan was leaving Earth.

    6ppkGsE.jpg


    One of the many Japanese villages abandoned by the Japanese. Many of these places were abandoned on very short notice. In some places, meals were discovered half eaten.​

    While Nagahito’s speech confirmed what most analysts had long suspected, his motives left most people baffled. Nagahito stated that Amaterasu had relocated to the Collodor system, and that the Japanese people had to follow to escape the corruption of Earth, which was at this point beyond saving. Japan also claimed all space spinwards of the Ring[1] and renamed the star Collodor to Amaterasu. Then, as a final act, he formally withdrew Japan from the Space Security Administration.

    The reaction on Earth was one of shock, mostly due to the utter bizarreness of the whole ordeal. The Japanese had for decades been regarded as something of a geopolitical punchline. Their contributions during the war had shifted this perception somewhat, but that was gone in an instant. Their claim to all the space spinwards of the Ring in particular was seen as a joke, as the Japanese Empire possessed no warships of their own, and the Collodor system did not have anything that could function as a shipyard.

    There was a certain uncertainty regarding what to do with the situation. Most were just happy to see the Japanese go[2]. The Administration Assembly did address the matter by issuing a proclamation that outlined all star systems that the SSA considered Human territory. This proclamation included the newly renamed Amaterasu system, but it did not mention the Empire of Japan in any way. A few patrols were redirected to the Amaterasu system for "routine patrols", but beyond this there was no concrete action.

    The closest anyone got to any acknowledgement of the situation was when Korean kaikyō gyomin and citizens of the Stellar Republic of Bitoku returned to the abandoned home islands and established the Japanese Republic. This new nation considered itself the legitimate successor state to the Empire of Japan. While formal recognition would take a few years, de facto recognition of the republic only took a few weeks.

    Japan leaving the SSA did, however, highlight the cracks in the existing system. The Space Security Administration had been born in a time of crisis, and it showed in its institutions. The four Great Powers held all the power, the off-world colonies operated under martial law and the entire system existed to supply the Navy with the resources needed to fight an enemy that had been defeated years ago. Since the end of the war, there had been more and more calling for a change to the existing system. Now they had a light shining right at them.

    One man in particular was ready to enter the spotlight: Fabian Joseph Ross. Long considered Anna Schumacher’s protege, Ross was determined to improve Schumacher's work by making it more sustainable and fair. To that end, he worked across both political lines and borders. The group, formally known as the "Space Security Administration Reform League" but just as often called "The Reformists", had members in most major countries, as well as a concrete plan for a new system.

    8bRyBSS.jpg


    Ross had impeccable political credentials. He served as an Oberbootsmann in the Raumstreitkräfte during the First Lavis War, being present during the First Battle of Alpha Centauri. During the battle, a railgun shot passed through his right leg and he almost died from shock and blood loss. After being medically discharged, he studied law, which eventually led him into politics.​

    As the name suggested, the Reformists wanted to change the Space Security Administration, but unlike more radical groups, they still wanted to preserve the core. With the threat of war an increasingly distant memory, the highly centralized structure of the SSA was no longer seen as critical. Ross and his compatriots thus proposed a much looser confederacy. Humanity would be united in matters of defence and interstellar diplomacy, but the nations of Earth would be much freer in choosing their own path,

    To this end, the proposal called for the Executive Council to be disbanded and for the Administration Assembly's power to be expanded. They would serve as the confederacy's basis for collective action; be that trade negotiations or war. All member states would get a voice in the Assembly, with an executive branch appointed by the Assembly.

    In return, they would have to pledge 2% of their GDP to "Confederate assets" (a loose category that included everything from warships to land surveyors). This percentage would rise to 5% for nations with a colony[3]. These confederate assets would belong to their respective governments, but would be available for “united actions”.

    This arrangement was critical in getting the proposal off the ground. Following the Second Lavis War, there had been growing tensions between the fleets of the various Great Powers. The Raumstreitkräfte especially chafed under “foreign command”, while the other fleets often accused the Germans of not sharing critical information. The issue wasn’t dire, the fleets worked well enough together while on exercise, but the cracks were there to see by anyone who cared to look. All the Great Powers, but especially Germany, thus welcomed more direct control and military independence.

    However, the proposal was not just for the benefit of the larger nations. Several smaller countries also stood to benefit. The cost of operating just a small patrol craft was sometimes larger than entire nations’ military budgets and some nations, like Iceland and Wales, didn’t have a military. Thus, the flexible nature of Confederate assets was appealing. It allowed nations to contribute in other ways, be it with scientific and technical expertise, transport ships or simply labour.

    While the plan did have considerable support, there were still issues. The biggest was the number of seats in the Assembly. And this was a point where Ross and the rest of his reformers didn’t have a good answer at the ready. Some countries wanted one seat per nation, while others wanted the number of seats to be proportional to the nation's population. The former naturally gave smaller nations a disproportionate amount of say, which the Great Powers and several other populous nations were less keen on. While small countries feared being steamrolled by said populous nations.

    The debates regarding this were frequent and heated. In one memorable instance, the Chinese foreign minister, Zheng Geming, was debating his Welsh counterpart, and remarked that “the fate of China should not be decided by a bunch of sheep– farmers”. This comment took on a life of its own in the British Isles, with a lot of jokes about which word Zheng had intended to use. He would later apologise for the statement, after which the Welsh invited him to come and “meet the sheep”, but similar outbursts were not uncommon.

    As the debates were raging, another issue reared its head to take advantage of the situation. On the Ring, several Lilarobius groups got together and began protesting the occupation government, demanding free elections and a greater say in how the Ring was governed. While the movement had wide support among the populace, it was largely led by students.

    At first Human forces on the Ring were put on high alert, with several orbiting spacecraft getting into position to provide orbital support if necessary. However, the protests were remarkably peaceful, with the protester picking up litter after their speeches. This went on for another few days without incident, until the protestors marched on the residence of Black Tupelo, who was the head of the collaborator government installed by the SSA.

    The protest started out peacefully. But fifty-three minutes after the first protestors arrived, a shot was fired from Black Tupelo’s residence. The guards responded by panic firing into the gathered crowd. In the end, seven were killed, while another thirty-eight were wounded. Black Tupelo contacted Olivia Schöll, the commander of Human ground forces on the Ring, asking for assistance in dealing with the protestors. She dispatched her forces, but when they arrived she arrested Black Tupelo and their entire security detail.

    MZZPID8.jpg


    The Governor’s residence following Black Tupelo’s arrest. A few overzealous members of their security detail decided to open fire on Schöll’s forces, with predictable results. Their deflating gas bladders caused an explosion and the resulting fire took hours to get under control.
    (Art by Pablo Palomeque)​

    Back on Earth, this became another headache for the reformers. The Lilarobians were well aware of what was happening on Earth, and some of them suggested that they should be represented in the Assembly as well. This was a complete non-starter for Humanity. While Human-Lilarobius relations were better than during the war, they were still far from good. Human distrust was deeply rooted, and it was not improved by occasional skirmishes between Local forces and xenophobic groups wanting to restore the Lavis Republic.

    Despite this, it was clear that things also had to change on the Ring. The protests were peaceful, for now. But that could change. So the matter was discussed, but unlike the debates concerning confederation, the issue of the Ring was dealt with behind closed doors.

    On the 5th of October, almost a year after the death of Emperor Tomohito, an extended session of the Administration Assembly was held. There were two topics on the docket. The first was the issue of home rule on the Ring.

    The establishment of home rule on the Ring passed with 72% of the vote. It was, however, somewhat watered down compared to what the protestors had wanted. The resolution called for a parliament to be established and elections to be held, but all political parties had to be vetted by local Human forces. Groups or individuals with connections to the previous government, or groups in favour of restoring the Lavis Republic, were also barred from standing for election. The authority of the new parliament was also confined to the Ring. They would still require Human approval for any off-Ring activity. They would also not be represented in the new Confederate Assembly.

    The Confederation Assembly and the Confederation of Sol were of course the subjects of the second item on the docket. The motion passed unanimously, but this was the result of ruthless backroom politicking. The issue of seats had been resolved in a matter everyone found unsatisfactory: every country would receive two representatives regardless of population, with additional seats distributed according to population over 10 million[4]. In addition, a nation with off-world colonies had to reserve some of its seats for these colonies. This was an attempt to forestall any “colonial tea parties”.

    All in all, the Great Powers gave up a significant amount of formal power. Under the SSA, as long as the Great Powers were reasonably united in a course of action, they could overrule the Assembly. Under the new system, they were all equal, at least in theory. In reality, they had enough allies and friends to shift most votes in the desired direction. It would just require more soft power compared to before.

    As3eic2.jpg


    The flag of the Sol Confederacy was based on the old “map-flag” of the Space Security Administration. It abandoned the old style of stars in relative position to Earth, for one that just had a star per colony. Notably, and somewhat controversially, it included a star for Hoshi No Umi, despite the Empire of Japan not being a member of the Confederacy. The flag also didn’t include any reference to the Ring, but an unofficial alternative flag that incorporated the Ring did exist. This flag was popular both with Human-supremacists and pro-Lilarobius groups, if for very different reasons.​

    New elections were scheduled for January the next year, with the Confederacy formally assembling in March. However, the Universe had one last wrinkle to throw into Humanity's plans.

    On the 3rd of November, 2150, Deutscher Reichsrundfunk announced that Kaiser Wilhelm IX had passed away in his sleep at the age of 91.

    IAnuKcM.jpg


    Kaiser Wilhelm IX, here shown at age 44. The Kaiser was a constant through the early space age, and a symbol of calm during the Lavis Wars. Wilhelm's personal life, however, was defined by tragedy. Both his children were killed by an avalanche while on a ski trip to the Alps and his wife, Charlotte, passed away 14 years later. While never confirmed, the cause of her death is widely speculated to be liver cirrhosis.​

    The news struck like a bomb in Germany. Kaiser Wilhelm’s reign had been one of the longest in German history and many Germans had no concept of a different monarch. His sudden and unexpected death made the whiplash even more pronounced. Chancellor von Meyer announced a two-week mourning period and revealed the plans for the late Kaiser’s funeral. He also attended a formal meeting with his sister and new Kaiserin, Victoria.

    cEcmtGU.jpg


    Kaiserin Victoria ascended to the throne at age 75. Victoria had been the heir presumptive for decades, ever since the death of her nephew and niece. She had been well prepared for the position, but in a later interview she noted that “It was all a bit overwhelming. This isn’t something you really can prepare for.”
    (Art by DragonReine)​

    The death of Kaiser Wilhelm proved a hurdle for German politicians preparing for the upcoming Confederate elections, who suddenly found themselves locked into a political truce. Nobody wanted to be the first to start talking politics, and even if they did it wasn’t clear if they would have an audience. In the end, most of them had to make do with severely limited campaigns.

    Kaiser Wilhelm was buried on the 20th of November in a state funeral that saw representatives from all around the world. Memorial services were held on Neu Brandenburg and Großbayern as well. Even the Board of Directors of the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association sent their condolences. Despite being invited to the funeral, the Beldross embassy on Earth did not respond.

    As Germany mourned, Humanity prepared to enter a new era. One marked by a new sense of unity and cooperation. They were not the only ones with this dream.


    [1] - This included space currently controlled by the Beldross Hive, the WBTA and other spacefaring species. The SSA issued a statement to all states in the region that the Japanese Empire did not represent the SSA as a whole, and that they would deal with the issue if it ever moved beyond words.

    [2] - There were fierce debates among Human rights activists. Several groups saw the exodus as a further entrenching of Japan’s neo-feudal system, and now without the possibility of escape across the Straits of Tsushima. These groups wanted the Great Powers to intervene. However, this was a tough sell, with many citing Germany’s terrible track record as Weltpolizei. Besides, the issue was moot, as the Great Powers were not interested in any kind of intervention.

    [3] - The nations of South America were given a 25-year exemption from this increase due to the poor state of their finances. Germany, on the other hand, agreed to pay 7% due to owning two colonies, but only after long negotiations.

    [4] - The clear winners here were the various nations of the Indian subcontinent, which had a large population distributed over two dozen nations. There were concerns that the Indian states would be able to dominate Confederate politics, but the chronic infighting between them made this unlikely.



    Apologies for being gone so long. Some personal issues, poor time management on my part and this being much longer than I expected meant it took forever to write. The next part should be shorter.
    (Why do I keep lying to myself?)
     
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    New Ventures
  • New Ventures​

    June 2155 - Autumn Hills Special Economic District - Velidas Corporation Factory #1

    IaIjxzF.jpg


    The Velidas Corporation invested heavily into the Ring, making the Autumn Hills SED their chief manufacturing hub outside their home system. They would be rewarded greatly for their efforts, becoming synonymous with state-of-the art electronics in much of Human space.
    (Art by Stephen Turner)​

    Meinare watched as the assembly lines hummed with activity. Every single one of them brand new. Every single one churning out products for the Human market. Every single one of them worked by hordes of Lilarobious. They all swayed back and forth, anchored at the production line, tentacles applying glue, fixing parts together, inspecting the result. Most factories had a hypnotising elegance to them, but the bobbing of the Lilarobious took it to new heights.

    “This is the main production line for small electronics,” Mr. Faucher said, looking at a point somewhere in the middle of Meinare’s face.

    According to anthropological reports, Humans valued eye contact just as much as Suramo. However, Human eyes were set much closer together and they struggled to meet both of her eyes at the same time. Some Humans chose one eye to focus on, while others, like Mr. Faucher, focused on some arbitrary point in the middle of her face.

    She had no issues with maintaining eye contact, which she had already used to her advantage during contract negotiation. Her next report back to headquarters would include this tidbit. Her job on the Ring was as much a fact-finding mission as it was overseeing the new branch.

    “Quite the operation, Mr. Faucher,” Meinare said. “Though I was under the impression the Humans valued automation.”
    “You are correct, and if you ever decide to establish similar operations on Earth or one of the colonies, that will also be the case. But this is the Ring. Here, machines are expensive and labour is cheap.”

    She knew this, of course. It was one of the main reasons they’d picked the Ring for their first branch office. But still, there were concerns.

    “And what if wages were to increase?”
    “They’re not,” Mr. Faucher said. He pointed into the distance. “During the invasion, the first troops landed about 20 kilometres that way. Uh, that would be just short of 7 sehors, I think. Point is, this was when the weeds still tried to fight back. This entire region was practically levelled.”

    Meinare had seen it as she flew in. More than the ruined buildings and the massive tent cities, the landscape itself told the story. It wasn’t quite a moonscape, just a few years of erosion and plant life had covered the worst of the damage, but the signs were still there if you cared to look. Strange, undulating terrain with dozens of stagnant ponds. It reminded her of the pictures in her history books, the Third Merger War in particular.

    “Even with the reconstruction efforts, unemployment in this area is still regularly above 40%. And if you can believe it, there are still worse places, so there is a steady stream of new people coming here looking for work. So even if we were to massively expand operations, I can guarantee that wages will remain low.”

    Meinare nodded. The motion was strange. It made her eyestalks wobble, which made it difficult to focus. But among Humans, the motion expressed agreement or understanding. She would just have to get used to it. The Humans probably wouldn’t understand if she chittered. Or maybe Mr. Faucher would. He struck her as a very thorough, well-prepared man. Which was why they’d hired him, and why he was the second most well-paid individual on the Ring right now.

    They kept moving along the assembly lines as Mr. Faucher kept talking about logistic chains onto and off the Ring. Until he suddenly stopped and looked at one specific Lilarobian.
    “Ahh, Burr Oak! Come over here.”

    How Mr. Faucher could tell the Lilarobious apart was beyond Meinare. To her, they all looked like identical gas bags. Humans were a bit easier to tell apart. They came in more colours and shapes and she could sometimes tell their faces apart. As long as they didn’t have beards.

    The Lilarobian floated over to them. Slowly. Halting. They stopped in front of them, bobbing ever so slightly.
    “This is Burr Oak, the local union leader. Burr Oak, this is Meinare em-Zaran, Branch Director and our boss.”
    Meinare glanced sideways at Mr. Faucher. “Union leader?”
    “Yes. The 1993 Convention on Labour Rights guarantees the right to join a union. We tried to argue that it didn’t apply, as the local government isn’t a signatory to the convention, but that didn’t hold up in court. Given the Ring’s… special… circumstance, the court considered the Ring to be under the governance of either Germany, Canada, Russia or China. Exactly which wasn’t clear, but they’ve all signed the convention, so the issue is moot.”

    Burr Oak bobbed more and more, glowing eyes focused on a stain on the floor.
    “Fortunately, the convention only specified that workers have the right to join ‘a union’. So we had some chats with Governor Laurel, with whom I have a very good working relationship, and we set up a local ‘citizen’s union’, which will allow local workers to address issues facing them.”

    “That is… reassuring,” Meinare said, staring at the bobbing gasbag. “Mr. Faucher, I hope you will introduce me to Governor Laurel.”
    “Of course. I have a tentative meeting scheduled next week, awaiting your approval.”
    “Have there been any talk of… collective action?”
    “There were some issues prior to our arrangement with the Governor. A few rabble-rousers who were… well… rousing. However, they were terminated after they failed a random drug test. Unfortunately, drug use has been a widespread problem following the War.”

    Burr Oak stared at the stain on the floor with an intensity that should have made the concrete boil.
    “The Velidas Corporation has a social responsibility to the denizens of the Ring. We can’t accept such wanton anti-social behaviour from our employees. Don’t you agree, Oak?”

    Burr Oak’s gaze didn’t move from the stain. “Quite so, Mr. Faucher.” They finally looked up, staring at Mr. Faucher with the same intensity. Faucher, for his part, returned it like a mirror.

    Meinare had heard some accounts from the Human-Lilarobious wars. To her, they seemed a bit silly. The Humans were gangly and strangely proportioned. The Lilorobians were floating fire hazards. The idea that they had been locked in an existential struggle at the same time as Meinare had finished up her internship had struck her as quite ridiculous. Looking at these two now, it was starting to make sense.

    “I’m sorry, Sir, but is that all?” Burr Oak asked. “There is an issue with the hydraulic system here, and it needs my attention.”
    “Of course. Don’t let us hold you.”

    Burr Oak floated back to the machine they’d been working on. Mr. Faucher kept walking, looking rather satisfied.
    “I took the liberty of ordering a well-aged single malt. According to our biochemists, it should be safe for Suramo consumption. Or maybe you would prefer something from your homeworld? We had a few bottles of Felsev sent to us prior to your arrival.”
    Meinare didn’t say anything, limiting herself to pleasantries until they got back into the office.

    “What was that?” she asked as soon as the door closed. “I’ve had to bust a few unions in my days, but that didn’t look like a union dispute.”
    Mr. Faucher had put a few glasses on the massive desk in the centre of the office. Her desk. He was pouring a golden liquid into one of them. After filling one about a third, he looked to Meinare with a questioning look, motioning the bottle towards her. She nodded and he poured into the other glass.

    “I understand that my demeanour might seem harsh to an outsider,” he said as he carried the glasses over and handed one to Meinare. After she accepted, he tapped his own glass to hers –possibly another Human custom– and took a sip. Meinare followed suit.

    The taste was mild, somewhat warm at first. But it quickly turned into a burn as she swallowed. It had a certain kick. Certainly not as sweet as Felsev. Assuming her insides didn’t start bleeding in the coming hours, she could get used to this single malt stuff.

    “What you have to remember about the weeds is that a few years ago, they tried to kill us all. For the second time.” Mr. Faucher downed the rest of his drink in one go. He grimaced as he swallowed. Meinare decided not to follow his lead. “And this was not some issue they had with Humanity. The Suramo, the Beldross, any sentient species, they wanted us dead. And I refuse to believe that this genocidal desire was the result of a handful of politicians who are now conveniently dead. No, mark my words: the weeds would still burn us alive if given the chance.”

    As he spoke, Mr. Faucher got more and more animated. The calm aura he had projected on the factory floor was entirely gone. Instead there was anger. Anger and pain. She would have to look deeper into his past. There was something there.

    “The politicians back on Earth have seen fit to give the weeds more of a say in what happens here. Well, I think that is a mistake. So now it is critical for those actually on the Ring to remind the Weeds of their place. Otherwise, we run the risk of having to deal with them again a few years down the line.”

    Meinare had her doubts. The only ships in Lilarobian hands were the ragtag Remnant Fleet running around in WBTA space and those ships were only a threat to their crews. But that was irrelevant. The issue was that Mr. Faucher believed that the Liliarobians were a threat.

    She took his glass and walked over to the desk. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Faucher,” she said as she poured another drink for both of them. “And you are correct. We never had to deal with the Lavis Republic, and we do not understand the Lilarobians the same way you do. Which is why I appreciate your presence here. I hope you will continue to advise me on such matters, Mr. Faucher.”

    She handed him one glass and he took it.
    “To our new venture,” she said, and tapped her glass to his.

    * * *​

    2151 began with the largest single election in Human history. All across Earth, as well as several other planets and orbital installations, people cast their votes for their preferred candidate. Unlike the Space Security Administration, where several nations had refrained from joining due to political concerns, most nations joined the Confederation. Only three major nations abstained: the Australian State, the Indochinese Federation, and the Empire of Japan[1].

    The resulting assembly ended up with politicians representing pretty much every somewhat mainstream ideology, as well as a few that were well outside of it. Because of this there were concerns that the Confederacy would fall into political gridlock. But a group of centrists (for a particularly wide definition of centrism) managed to pull together enough support to form a government.

    72Sl78W.jpg


    Dudás Viktória, the first Chancellor of the Confederacy of Sol. Dudás, like many up-and-coming politicians, had served during the Lavis Wars, albeit not in a frontline position. She had served in the logistics corps of the Danubian Bundesraummarine. Considered a masterful organiser, she was seen as a ‘safe’ candidate for the position.​

    But there was little time to stand on ceremony. Dudás and her cabinet had only just been sworn in when issues began rolling in.

    The first problem technically started before the Confederacy first met. A fleet of ramshackle ships appeared in the systems surrounding Ameratsu. At first they were believed to be the Lilarobian Remnant Fleet, returned to avenge their loss in the previous war. However, it soon became clear that the ships were even older than that. And also much more powerful. After round-the-clock work by linguists, Humanity was able to establish contact with the Fjasivlin Void Raiders.

    rpzCAIy.jpg


    The Fjasivlin Void Raiders were another victim of the violence that had consumed the last cycle. According to archives on the Ring, the Fjasivlin had once been a prosperous species with a modest empire spanning half a dozen worlds. However, the violence that had consumed the previous cycle had forced them to evacuate their worlds and instead live a harsh life on a handful of orbital stations. Resources were scarce, and the Fjasivlin were prone to infighting. But there was no denying that their circumstances had created fierce warriors.​

    Initial diplomatic exchanges with the Fjasivlin were limited. Their culture was largely based around scavenging resources from the old, decaying orbital installations found scattered around the galaxy. Though in the last half century, they had also taken to raiding the various alien states that had taken to space. Most of the time they leveraged their powerful, if poorly maintained, ships to extract ‘tribute’ from other nations. Most of the time the nation in question gave the Fjasivlin what they wanted, but not always. In these events, the Fjasivlin employed a shocking amount of violence.

    Given the Fjasivlin’s foreign policy, they were not forthright with where they operated from. But thanks to a combination of flattery, trickery and effective use of signal intelligence, Humanity was able to gather an approximate location near the galactic core. This placed them right next to the growing powder keg spinwards of Humanity.

    zkvPQpJ.jpg


    The Fjasivlin Warrior operated out of a handful of systems close to the galactic core. This location put them in a prime position to raid the WBTA, the Hierarchy of Hazi and the Versum Divine Empire. The polities in the area made frequent use of them as deniable assets, either employing them as mercenaries or bribing them to raid the enemy.​

    Most analysts saw the Fjasivlin as a potential source of sparks. And the states in the region were piling on with more gunpowder. In late January, the Hazi would denounce the Beldross as an abominable mistake of nature[2]. The Beldross in turn would issue a statement the next month. On the surface, this statement was a simple development plan for several colonies. However, a handful of these worlds were under Hazar control. The implication was obvious.

    rGKPy2p.jpg


    The exact reason for the Hazi’s hostility to the Beldross was unclear. The leading theory at the time was that the Hierarchy needed an external enemy, and the Beldross was the most convenient one.​

    Through all of this, Dudás, her cabinet and the Confederate Assembly debated what Humanity should do. Or if Humanity should do anything at all. There was little mainstream support for any military intervention and Humanity lacked the soft power required to intervene diplomatically in the region. And with no competing interests counter-spinwards of Humanity, most wanted the Confederacy to focus its efforts there.

    It didn’t take long before the bad blood between the Hazi and the Beldross began influencing galactic politics. In April of the same year, the Beldross Hive and the Versum Divine Empire signed a non-aggression agreement. With the Versum and the Hazi already at each other’s throats, most experts saw this as a first step towards closer cooperation between the two states.

    Said experts didn’t have to wait long. In September 2153, only two years later, the Beldross and the Versum entered into a defensive agreement, as well as a technology-sharing agreement. On Earth, military planners made it clear that it was not a question of if armed conflict would break out, but when and how severe it would be.

    It was not all doom and gloom coming from Humanity’s galactic neighbours. In 2055 the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association decided they were tired of limiting themselves to only trading movies, games, books and the like. After years of planning, a conglomerate of Suramo electronics and consumer goods manufacturers established several factories on the Ring that would produce goods intended for the Human market.

    The Ring was chosen for several reasons. Its construction made delivering raw materials and shipping the finished product much easier, not requiring orbital lifters or expensive space elevators. Its position also meant easy access to the Confederate core systems, while also being closer to Suramo space, should a direct trade lane open up in the future. But the chief reason was political. The newly self-governing Lilarobius were desperate to deal with unemployment and develop new sources of income, no matter the cost. This allowed the WBTA to negotiate some very lucrative agreements.

    TV4C2Xc.jpg


    The Plume Valley megafactory, owned and operated by the al-Hafzin Syndicate. One of seven “special economic zones” established by the Ring Garden[3], these zones gave the residing corporations near complete control of the surrounding area. They issued their own currency, established their own laws and enforced these laws with their own police and courts.
    (Art by Dmitry Markelov)​

    In a matter of years, Suramo products could be found in most major cities on Earth. Some of these products were major disruptors, like the ZXI - 5 AR glasses, going from an expensive tech toy to an everyday necessity in less than a decade. Others were massive flops, like the Veiband Display, where the designers had made almost no adjustments to Human ergonomics.

    More Suramo corporations would follow, establishing offices on Neu Brandenburg and Earth. Unlike on the Ring, these corporations were given much less free reign. As a result, most of them were consulting firms, trying to bridge the gap between the Human and Suramo markets. Though a large number of shipping companies did set up offices on Earth, mostly to have a toehold should direct trade become a possibility.

    While tensions rose and trade flourished in the galactic west, the galactic east was still Humanity’s uncharted frontier. The now half-century-old exploration ships still surveyed systems, reporting back strange phenomena. While no longer constantly in the public eye, they still sent back mountains of scientific data. And once in a while, they would report on something that caught the public’s attention. The Clarence Chant’s entry into the Xu Nur system in 2154 was one such occasion.

    At first, the reports were fairly standard: they had discovered that one of the system’s moons, Xu Nur IIIa, possessed a biosphere. These reports were soon augmented to include that said biosphere could support human life.

    At this point the governments of the world took notice. This would be the first time since the establishment of the Confederacy that colonisation rights would be on the table. One of the early bureaucratic decisions that the Assembly had made was the establishment of a committee to formalise any future colonial proposals. A few nations had such proposals ready and waiting for a suitable candidate. The clear favourite was Korea, who had a strong economy, a handful of patrol ships capable of interstellar travel, and was leveraging its close relations with China.

    Interests rose as the crew of the Clarence Chant landed on the moon, and reported that the atmosphere was breathable, the temperature was evenly distributed across latitudes and the local flora and fauna was not dangerous. In many ways, it was ideal not only for Human life, but most species encountered so far. Captain Marshall would later describe the moon as a “perfectly curated greenhouse”. He would also describe it as “uncanny”.

    YP03nf3.jpg


    Xu Nur IIIa was an anomaly among the worlds discovered so far. It was as, if not more, habitable than Earth.​

    He was not alone in this view. On Earth, most experts on planetary formation and climate agreed that there was no way for such a moon to form naturally. It had to be the result of some sort of artificial meddling, a hypothesis strengthened when the crew of the Chant found the deactivated remains of nanobots all across the moon.

    The hypothesis was confirmed only two months later, albeit not in the way anyone expected.

    Ever since landing on Albion, Canadian settlers had been beset by weather troubles. Massive hurricanes would sweep the planet, frequently destroying algae farms, leading fishing vessels to stay docked and forcing people to take shelter. Most of these storms did not make sense meteorologically, leading most to suspect outside influences.

    Their suspicions were confirmed when a Canadian survey team landed on a small island near the equator. During their exploration of the island, the team discovered a small bunker made from reinforced concrete. Inside they discovered a mass of machinery that sprawled through tunnels that crisscrossed most of the island. Further study indicated that the machine was some sort of ancient terraforming device. More importantly, it was broken.

    HRdqS5q.jpg


    The broken terraforming equipment was the source of Albion’s weather woes. Stuck in an endless loop, it would pump nanobots into the atmosphere, which disrupted the natural weather patterns and caused massive, unstable and tremendously destructive hurricanes.​

    The discovery caught the attention of scientists back on Earth, who petitioned the Confederacy to send an expedition to Albion. Their request was approved, and 137 climatologists, meteorologists, xenoarchaeologists and other experts boarded a transport headed for Albion. The colonists were told to leave the machine alone until they arrived.

    The colonists did as they were told. For a time. However, the transport carrying the experts was months away, and the rogue hurricanes did not wait. A few months after discovering the terraforming equipment, a particularly violent storm hit the floating settlement of London, sinking it. 276 people drowned, and almost two thousand were left homeless. Rescue efforts were dispatched from other settlements, but they were hampered by the storms.

    Meanwhile, colonists not involved in the rescue efforts began talking amongst themselves. Most of them had experienced one or more storms that they had been convinced would kill them. Many saw it only as a matter of time before another settlement sank. They decided not to wait months for the experts to arrive, and instead take matters into their own hands.

    A group of engineers arrived at the island. Initially they were turned away by the soldiers stationed there, but they managed to convince the guards to let them through. Once inside the bunker, they set about repairing the broken machine, fixing the parts they understood and jury-rigging the parts they didn’t. In the end, they succeeded. To their horror.

    The terraforming equipment began a new cycle, and did so by spewing a thick fog of nanobots into the atmosphere. The fog moved rapidly, blanketing the entire planet. In the settlements people sealed every hatch they could and hunkered down, hoping to ride it out. Not knowing if they could.

    C4g8ceL.jpg


    The nanobot fog as it approached the floating settlement of Churchill. There was an atmosphere of impending doom on Albion as the fog spread. What shuttles were available ferried refugees into orbit, most of them filled with nothing but children. Panicked distress calls were sent out, but most of these wouldn’t be heard until weeks later.​

    For thirteen days, the fog enveloped Albion. Then it disappeared just as fast as it had appeared. As the colonists stepped out of their shelters, what they saw astounded them: the entire planet had been remade. The oceans had receded, bringing new landmasses. The atmosphere was breathable for humans. New flora and fauna was seen walking the wilds as if they had been there for millennia, while the old species were changed, adapted to this new environment. In every way, Albion was paradise.

    AoGW6xc.jpg


    The changes wrought to Albion would be studied for generations, with the hope that they could someday be replicated.​

    Back on Earth, there was shock. The first anyone heard of it were the desperate calls for help, which went on for almost two weeks before anyone was told that the situation had been resolved. Some, especially those in the Canadian establishment, called for the arrest of the engineers who had restarted the terraforming equipment. They argued that it was only luck that the new climate was suitable for Humans. Back on Albion, these calls were met with a “come and take them” attitude. As the issue was deemed an internal matter, the Confederacy deferred the issue to the Canadian government, who in the end decided to drop the case.

    Through all of this, debates surrounding the colonisation of Xu Nur IIIa continued. The Koreans, as expected, had a strong proposal ready to go and were backed by the Chinese. Their main opponents were the Americans, who had the backing of Canada, though their proposal suffered from a lack of funding, trying to make up for it with a “can do” attitude. Following the events on Albion, the Canadian government got cold feet about having two strange, artificial worlds in their sphere. They requested that the Americans pull their proposal, at least for now. Korea would thus colonise Xu Nur, or as they dubbed it: Mugunghwa.

    The rest of the decade would pass in relative quiet. Surveys of the star cluster around Xu Nur would discover several planets, some of them friendly to Human life. However, the infrastructure needed for colonisation was lacking, giving the nations of Earth time to polish their proposals.

    The largest shock came on New Year's Eve, 2160. The Welfon-Boordar Trade Association and the Hierarchy of Hazi sent a joint message to the Confederacy. They had been approached by alien states to the galactic north about joining a forum dedicated to resolving disputes peacefully. They had also been asked to pass the invitation on to any other states they had encountered in the void.

    A galactic community had been formed, and Humanity was offered a seat at the table.

    tHPi1S2.jpg



    [1] - There were several microstates that refrained from joining, like Liechtenstein and the Vatican. The Japanese Republic, busy constructing a state apparatus from scratch, was unable to hold elections, but intended to join in the future.

    [2] - Given the Hazar’s parasitic nature, this accusation was seen as somewhat hypocritical outside of Beldross and Hazi space. The Beldross themselves didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

    [3] - The title of the Lilarobian parliament was typically translated to Ring Garden in Human publications. It was feared that calling it by its domestic name, the Lavis Verum, would conjure associations to the Lavis Republic.
     
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    Interlude: Comrades Across the Stars
  • Interlude: Comrades Across the Stars
    February 2160 - Hanoi - Central Committee of the Federation

    3m3Qcxv.jpg


    (Art by Bill Zhang)
    There was an excited buzz as people filed into the conference room and found their seats. Lê Phạm Thu Thủy couldn’t help but smile. It was rare for good news to come out of the Confederacy, much less truly inspiring news. Sure, the situation wasn’t ideal, and there was little they could do to aid, but it had given the cause a much-needed shot in the arm.

    People had celebrated in the streets when the news arrived, the parades in Hanoi and Bangkok had been especially impressive. But it was the reports from abroad that got to Thủy. Fellow travellers in Berlin, Paris, Moscow, Ottawa and more, all carrying red flags in the streets, right in the belly of the beast. The reactionaries in the Confederacy were outraged, but that just warmed her heart that much more.

    As most got settled and the idle conversation died down, Traikun Damrongsak closed the door and took up position next to the screen on the far wall. He looked at Thủy.
    “Comrade Chairwoman, with your permission, I would like to start the presentation.”
    Thủy glanced around the room and, with the exception of Commissioner Khay who was busy pouring a cup of coffee, everyone was looking at her expectantly.
    “Go ahead, Comrade Traik.”

    Traik sent his presentation to the screen. “I will be covering the aliens closest to us first. I know everyone wants to discuss the Qvefoz but I suspect they would eat all our time if I started there.”
    “Traik, my dear comrade, I’m impressed. You’re the first who’s managed to pronounce the name of the species even halfway decent,” Khay said as he poured milk into his coffee. The foreign affairs commissioner's comment got a few polite chuckles.
    Traik gave the professional smile of someone who’d dealt with Khay for a long time. “Thank you, Comrade Commissioner. I spent a great deal of time practising that particular tongue twister.”

    He shifted before anyone could interrupt him again. “Starting closest to us, counter-spinwards, we have the Aifu Remnant.”
    The screen showed a shrivelled up… thing, in some sort of stasis tank. The image quality was quite poor, Thủy suspected the Confederacy had gotten the image through less than honest means, but it was clear the thing was never going to win any galactic beauty contests.

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    “The Aifu caused quite the ruckus on the Ring.”
    “That’s putting it mildly,” Commissioner for the Army Saom said. “A group of Lilarobius sent a dispatch to Chancellor Dudás, urging her to mobilise the navy and neutralise them. And these were respected members of the Ring Garden, not your average neo-Lavis xenophobe.”
    “The local garrison arrested those representatives for violating the Ring Accords,” Traik said. “But yes, I undersold the reaction on the Ring. There have been Ringwide protests, as well as outbreaks of panic among the general population. According to those present on the ground, it hasn’t been this bad since the war.

    Confederate assets on the Ring were able to consult the local archives,” Traik continued. “It seems the Aifu were the one that almost destroyed the Ring, back during the previous cycle.”
    “I guess that makes a fair bit of sense,” Commissioner for Education Nguyễn said. “Imagine how we would react if the Germans showed up with a carrier on our doorstep.”

    “I would like to see them try.”

    Traik ignored Commissioner Saom’s comment and tactfully moved on. “However, it seems the Lilarobius inflicted some sort of… counterstrike… on the Aifu during the war. From what we can tell, their immune system is non-existent, forcing them to live in carefully controlled environments aboard space stations. The Ring archives are very sparse on details. We suspect the Lavis Republic, or some predecessor government, destroyed those records.”

    “A genocidal government being cagey about its past… Colour me surprised.” Thủy motioned for Traik to continue. “But I understand that the Aifu have found new enemies.”
    “That is correct, Comrade Chairwoman.” Traik pressed a button and a new slide appeared.

    dk2yjqU.jpg

    The image on screen looked like a Human, except slightly wrong. Like a poorly rendered VR experience, the creature lived deep in the uncanny valley. If the Aifu had caused riots on the Ring, and the Qvefoz had caused celebration in Hanoi, the Sildor had caused existential confusion everywhere else.
    “Comrades, the Sildor Blessed Union.” Traik gave the image a moment to settle in. “From what we can gather, and to be clear, we do not know a whole lot, the Sildor state and the chief Sildor church are one and the same. We know very little about their doctrine, but from what little we can gather, they seem to have a dominionist or integralist view towards the galaxy.”

    “Which the Aifu are feeling right now,” Saom said.
    “Are we sure it was the Sildor who started the war?” Khay asked.
    “Quite sure,” Traik said. “When asked, they were quite proud of it, calling it a holy crusade to liberate the galaxy.”
    “It’s just another imperialist land grab,” Thủy said. “They can wrap it up in as much pretty rhetoric as they want, it doesn’t change facts.”

    There were murmurs of agreement from around the table, but nobody followed up on what Thủy had said. Then again, she’d just stated the obvious.

    “Any thoughts on their, ahem… appearance?” Nguyễn asked.
    “None I can make a definitive statement on, Comrade Commissioner. There are a million different theories, ranging from convergent evolution to displaced Humans. Or maybe we are displaced Sildor. There is no way to tell without sequencing their DNA. If they even have DNA.”

    “That’s enough about the Aifu and the Sildor. Get us to the main event, Traik.”
    “Of course. I will quickly run through the states involved before getting into the details.”

    yZHKck2.jpg

    “We know very little about the Connisthian Hegemony beyond the fact that they seem to value martial ability above all else. From what little they have told us, every Connisthian is a warrior first and foremost.” Traik didn’t wait for questions before moving to the next slide.

    Si3b7dd.jpg

    “The Pithok of the Vetyr Shipping Alliance is another corpo state, much like the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association. The main difference, according to them at least, is that they do business in a "moral fashion".”
    Traik's voice was dripping with sarcasm, and several people around the table scoffed.
    "Moral? Is that what capitalist war of aggression is called these days?" Nguyễn said.

    lcVu6xl.jpg

    Traik brought out the next slide, showing a bipedal, fox-like creature. "The Shipping Alliance is quite insistent that the war is not one of conquest, but a war of liberation. In said 'liberated' areas, they've been setting up local councils to administrate the area."
    "Puppet governments, nothing more, nothing less," Thủy said.

    "Quite so," Traik said. "The Fevarian of the Citizen Confederation of Adanir are on the backfoot, but they seem to be fighting hard. And from what they and others have told us, they are willing to pay a fierce price for freedom.”

    A new slide appeared, showing a windswept, dead world. Or so it seemed. Set deep into a far cliffside were rectangular structures, clearly not natural. The next slide appeared, showing a zoomed-in view. It was clearly some sort of bunker or fortification had been built into the cliff.

    “The Fevarians discovered nuclear weapons around the same time as Humanity. However, while Humanity used nuclear weapons to settle the issue of unrestrained capitalism versus socialism–” there were a few grumblings at Traik’s choice of words, “–the Fevarians were socially around the French Revolution, still debating the divine right of kings. That particular argument ended in nuclear fire. The Citizen Confederation of Adanir is what emerged from the bunkers.”

    “A Robespierre with nuclear weapons,” Commissioner Saom said. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or terrified.”
    “Definitely terrified,” Nguyễn muttered.

    “The Adarni’s contact with the Confederacy has so far been rocky, mostly thanks to their antipathy towards the monarchs of the German Kaiserreich and the Chinese Empire. Apparently, there was an Adanir comment about converting the late Kaiser’s tomb into a urinal.” There was a round of laughter around the table. That particular comment hadn’t reached the public.

    Traik continued like nothing had happened, but there was the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. “The Confederacy has decided that the Canadians, Russians and other republican governments will handle negotiations with the Adarni. Which leaves us…”

    F1df1ES.jpg

    The main event appeared on screen. “The Qvefoz of the Byrrieck People’s Union is last on our list. And probably not a surprise to anyone in this room.”

    That was the understatement of the year. The Byrrieck's existence had done more for the cause than dozens of recessions, global exploitation and millions living on the edge of poverty. Suddenly socialism was no longer something limited to a small country in South East Asia. Suddenly people were… inspired.

    “We are again working off very limited information. Much of this comes either from the Byrrieck themselves or their neighbours. This makes the information hard to independently verify. But… from what we’ve been told, one of the major nations on the Qvefoz homeworld had the workers seize control of the government. For us, this would have been somewhere around 1991. This galvanised the working class in other nations. Over the next four years, dozens more revolutions would break out.

    There were holdouts, with the last non-socialist state falling four decades later, unable to meet capitalism’s need for infinite growth. But with that obstacle gone, the Byrrieck were able to create a free and just society. From what we can tell they discovered the hyperlanes around the same time as us. Given time, they encountered other nations. Antiquated nations.”

    “While the conflict in the galactic north is primarily between the Citizen Confederation of Adanir and the Vetyr Shipping Alliance, they are not the only participants,” Khay said. “The Connisthians are fighting alongside the Shipping Alliance, while the Byrrieck had some sort of defensive agreement with the Adanir. Though, it is not clear what the Connisthians are getting from this.”

    “They might have joined just for the sake of fighting,” Nguyễn said. There were some murmurs of agreement. Thủy had to agree that the idea had some merit. But that would have to wait until later.

    “With that settled, it is time we discuss our next course of action.”

    “Our next course of action, Comrade Chairwoman?” Nguyễn asked.

    “Correct. I did not call you all here merely to discuss the aliens’ existence, useful as that may have been.” The meeting room was quiet now, all eyes on her. “Last night, the Chinese ambassador reached out to us on behalf of the Confederacy. The Byrrieck People’s Union have a message for us.”

    “For us?” Saom asked.

    “Yes, us. The Politburo of the Indochinese Federation.” She stood up. Despite being a head shorter than most of the men in the room, she could still tower when she needed to. “Traik, play the video.”

    The room was silent as he brought up the video. Only Commissioner of Foreign Affairs Khay had known this was coming.

    The video flickered onto the screen. The visual quality was terrible, a side effect of the limited bandwidth of interstellar communication, but a birdlike creature stood in front of an unknown flag. The audio was slightly better, but overlaid with the robotic Vietnamese of the automatic translation.

    “Comrades of the Indochinese Federation,” the Qvefoz said. “We bring you greetings from the Byrrieck People’s Union. I am Speaker Vertchi Zerozo, appointed by the People’s Council to speak on their’s and the People’s behalf. It is an honour to be able to speak to you, and personally, it fills me with joy to find comrades so far from home.”

    The room was as quiet as could be. Thủy glanced around. Everyone but Khay was staring at the screen with laser focus. She was sure she and Khay had shown similar focus when Ambassador Shí had presented the video to them.

    “As we understand it, your revolutionary struggle is still ongoing. That is unfortunate, but not unexpected. Tyranny and reaction still grip the galaxy. Our own struggle has entered a new phase, with direct confrontation against the most perverse form of capitalism yet seen. We will not falter, but we ask for aid.

    Not material aid, mind you. We are at opposite ends of the galaxy. Anything you could send us would arrive years too late No, what we ask for is that you lend your voice to the People.

    This conflict, as well as the fanatical Sildor’s imperialist war, has convinced the reactionaries that there is a need for a structured approach to galactic diplomacy. While their motivations are base, their cause is not. The Byrrieck People’s Union will join this galactic council, and use it to champion the People’s cause, no matter their species, or what star burns in their sky.

    The Human Confederation of Sol has also announced its intention to join, but as we understand it, the Indochinese Federation has refused representation in the Confederacy. We understand your hesitation. Our dealings with the Confederacy so far have left us wanting. But we urge you to reconsider.

    You are among the few who can freely speak up for the People. Across the galaxy, the proletariat toils in bondage while their masters grow fat from their labour. Help us show them that there is another way. A better way. And let us show the masters that they will not stand unopposed.”

    Speaker Zerozo stopped speaking for a moment. Thủy had no knowledge of Qvefoz body language, but even she could see that they were collecting themselves.

    “The Byrrieck People’s Union will continue the struggle no matter what. We hope that we will not stand alone. May your talons grasp the stars, and your wings shield the People. On behalf of the People’s Council and the People, goodbye.”

    The screen went dark. The low hum of the ventilation fan sounded like a helicopter taking off.

    “We have to help them. We have to join,” Nguyễn said, still staring at the blank screen.
    “And throw our lot in with the Chinese? The Germans?” Saom said.
    “Will you throw away your damn pride for a moment? I’m not saying we should let them base their carriers in our ports!”

    The Commissioner for the Army ground his teeth while staring daggers at Nguyễn. But despite his outburst, there had been few nods in agreement. That was good news.

    “What did we actually gain by refusing to join the Confederacy?” Thủy asked, once again towering despite her height. “A moral victory. Moral victories are important, sure, but those alone will not free the galaxy. You know what’s out there; autocracies, slavers, genocidal fascists and corpo states. Who will stand against them? The Germans, who are busy cosying up to the WBTA? The Russians and the Chinese, who only fought the Lavis Republic when attacked? The Canadians, whose pride means they’re one election away from sliding back into neo-monarchism and fascism?

    I say: let it be us who stand against the horrors the galaxy has to offer. I say: let us join the Confederacy, and use their shipyards to build a People’s Navy. And when the time comes, let us spread the teachings of Marx and Engels to the stars.”

    The ventilation fan once again sounded like a helicopter. Khay poured another cup of coffee.
    “I say we join, if only so that I can annoy Foreign Minister Bergmann in committee meetings.”

    That earned him a few chuckles and Thủy smiled. She had them. There would be meetings, debates, all the usual procedural stuff, but in the end, the Indochinese Federation would join the Confederacy. They would make their voice heard. And with hard work and a little bit of luck, the reactionaries would fall.

    She sank back into her chair as the debate spread across the table. In the future, some history book would probably say that she’d argued her case and changed the course of the Federation. But in all honesty, Speaker Zerozo had done most of the work for her. She hoped she would get a chance to thank them.
     
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    Addendum: Earth in the Early Space Age
  • Addendum: Earth in the Early Space Age​

    The First Weltkrieg has been described as the most monumental event in modern history. Its effects and consequences can still be felt centuries after the fact and many historians (especially European historians) group history into pre- and post-Weltkrieg eras.

    There is some debate as to whether the First Lavis War has begun a new era in Human history, or if it is merely a brief anomaly. Only time will tell. Though understanding the post-Weltkrieg world is key to understanding the Great Powers and their motivations as they reach for the stars.

    A note on terminology: a non-aligned nation is typically seen as one where there is no permanent Great Power military presence in the country. A non-aligned country can lean towards one or more Great Powers without being considered in that nation’s sphere of influence. However, there are enough exceptions and special circumstances that this is not a hard and fast rule.

    Most Western European countries fall firmly aligned with Germany. Spain and Portugal are both constitutional monarchies that, while they didn’t participate in the war against the Syndicalists, were manufacturing weapons for Germany and providing intelligence on French activities. After the war, they would align with Germany, mostly for economic benefits.

    Both nations have been remarkably stable since the conclusion of the Second Weltkrieg. Outside of a wave of student protests in the 1960s that prompted democratic reforms, the nations have suffered no major unrest. The population has high trust in the political leadership, and the leadership in turn takes this trust seriously.

    This is in stark contrast to France, which is generally seen as the black sheep of Europe, and regarded as prone to radicalism and extremism. The dissolution of the German-installed monarchy and the establishment of the Fourth Republic was a peaceful and orderly affair. The establishment of the Second Directorate was anything but. A group of far-right army officers, disgruntled at what they viewed as weak civilian leadership and high on stories about France under Emperor Napoleon, seized control of the government. As the French military had grown into an advanced and significant force, the coup makers figured they could negotiate with Germany. They were wrong.

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    Anti-Directory protests often turned violent, usually due to the Directory deliberately escalating the situation. After it became clear that Germany would not negotiate, these protests became a big problem as the troops needed to suppress them were required elsewhere.​

    Germany and its allies would conduct a fierce air war before sending troops across the French border. The whole affair lasted nine weeks, leading to the alternate name of the “Nine Week Directorate”. The Fifth Republic was established in the aftermath, with significant restraints on the French military. Some of these restraints have been rescinded since then, and France has once again a capable military. However, they struggle with recruiting and public support. Most French citizens would rather advance French interests through peaceful means.

    To the north, the Union of Britain was divided into its constituent parts following its surrender, with German-leaning nobility being installed in England and Scotland, which remain to this day, while Wales was made into an independent republic. Michael Collins would continue to hold dictatorial power in Ireland for another two decades after the war. But with the Union defeated and the Exiles in Canada being an ocean away, there were increasing calls for reform. The ageing Collins decided this was as good a time as any to retire, and free elections were held.

    Today the British Isles have some of the closest cooperation in Europe, with the free flow of goods and people happening long before that became the norm in Europe. The English has mostly been saddled with the blame of both the crimes of the Union as well as the British Empire before it. This occasionally leads to bitter disagreements, as the English feel like a scapegoat. But otherwise, the islands are peaceful.

    The Nordic Union consists of the Kingdoms of Norway, Sweden and Finland. The Union was initially formed as a defensive agreement after the Union of Britain’s invasion of Denmark. The UoB had hoped to open a new front against Germany. This attempt failed, and German troops expelled the invaders in a matter of months. However, the German troops didn’t leave, remaining to garrison the country in order to prevent a new invasion. When the war was over, Denmark was firmly inside the German sphere.

    The Nordic Union maintained a state of armed neutrality for years, before joining the St. Petersburg - Beijing pact (later known as the Eurasian Defence Agreement) after long negotiations. The ports of Norway would then house the growing Russian navy, which would prove a constant annoyance to the Kaiserliche Marine.

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    The Murmansk-class missile cruiser Arkhangelsk departs Haakonsvern naval base in Norway. Easy access to the North Sea was a major victory for the Russian navy. While the Russian navy would never become large enough to directly challenge Germany for naval supremacy in the region, the Russians often found themselves “getting in the way” during German naval exercises.​


    Iceland, which had gained independence following the invasion of Denmark, would remain largely non-aligned. The island’s strategic position made it important to Canada, Germany and Russia, causing all sides to court the young republic. Following the Syndicalist War, Iceland mostly drifted towards Canada on account of old ties to Britain. These would last until the July Coup and the establishment of the Canadian Republic. At this point Iceland drifted towards the Nordic Union, and thus Russia.

    During the Cod Wars, a fishing dispute between Iceland and Scotland, Scottish warships were sent to waters Iceland claimed as their own. This was to “protect” Scottish trawlers in the area from inspection. The conflict escalated over a period of several months, leading to several trawlers being rammed by the modest Icelandic navy. Then, only days after the Scottish Prime Minister authorised the Royal Scottish Navy to “use as much force as it deems necessary”, the Scottish trawlers pulled back to international waters. Years later it was revealed that the Icelandic President had informed Berlin that Iceland was “prepared to enter talks with Russia” if its maritime borders were not respected.

    In the end, there would not be any talks with Russia, however, the Russian and Nordic embassies were dramatically expanded and several unofficial listening stations would appear on the island.

    In Eastern Europe, the borders remain largely as they were following the Weltkrieg. Efforts to Germanify the region were largely unsuccessful, with Germany easing off its efforts following the Latvian War. However, pockets of ethnic Germans can still be found across the region.

    The nations of Eastern Europe exist in a strange geopolitical situation. Most of the countries are closely tied to the German block economically, but few have a permanent military presence, and most nations are under German military protection, but not formally allied with Germany. This is largely a political concession. Germany, in the face of increasing resistance to its military presence following the Second Weltkrieg, chose to abandon military control in favour of maintaining some degree of diplomatic control. The politicians in the region, especially those of Poland and Ukraine, have ruthlessly exploited this; “aligning” themselves towards Russia in order to extract various benefits and favours from Germany.

    The one exception to this is Belarus. During the Second Weltkrieg, Belarussian nationalists seized control of the apparatus of state. At this point, Germany was locked in an existential struggle against France and Britain and lacked both the will and manpower to deal with the situation, and instead hoped to intervene after the war. The coup-makers, however, were not content to sit and wait to see if Germany came knocking. Determined to strengthen their nation, they began a vicious hunt for “traitors” and “fifth columnists”. As people fled Belarus, many of the refugees ended up in Moscow and St. Petersburg where they told horror stories to eager journalists. At this point, Russia was still fighting the Empire of Japan. However, as Russian troops pushed into Korea, it was clear that, barring any invasion of the home islands, the fighting in the East was winding down. As such, Russia possessed the troops needed to intervene. The war did not last long, and Belarus spent a few years under Russian occupation before becoming an “independent” client state.

    Today, Belarus is a free state, though firmly aligned with Russia. The nation serves as a crossroads of sorts between the Russian and German spheres, and many a spy thriller has been set in Minsk.

    The United States of Greater Austria, more commonly known by its nickname, the Danubian Federation, stands out in the German sphere as one of Germany’s near-equals. Austria borders on Great Power status, but its limited geopolitical ambitions mean it is instead considered a regional power. Most of Austria’s foreign policy efforts are spent in the Balkans, trying to maintain order. The results have been mixed. Serbia especially remains a thorny subject.

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    Propaganda poster promoting Austro-Hungarian unity. The poster has taken on an ironic tone in the Federation, as the poster was widely distributed just months before the civil war broke out. Reinterpretations of the poster is common in the Danubian art scene and frequently finds its way into political cartoons.
    (Art by Kaisercat)​

    Serbia opportunistically declared war on Austria during the civil war, hoping to gain land its leaders considered rightfully Serbian. It badly miscalculated the Austrian military, and by the end of the civil war, was fully occupied by Austrian troops. But when Austrians, Hungarians, Czechs, Poles and other people of the former Austria-Hungary met to negotiate the formation of a new, equal state, the Serbs were left outside. To this day, Serbia is equally split between those who think they would have been better off inside the federation and those who favour independence. However, the Serbs’ opinion does not matter, as the Danubians do not want them.

    Africa is often broadly divided into two distinct parts, those that are part of the Central African Federation, and those that used to be a part of the French colonial empire.

    Despite the CAF’s rather violent birth, it has largely flourished. While some, mostly European, say that it is thanks to German investment, most Africans reject this view, saying that they have succeeded despite the Germans. Following the end of the African War, many European companies sought to outsource manufacturing to areas with lower costs. The Federation was an easy choice for those companies operating inside the German economic sphere. Over time, large swatches of the federation were industrialised, often with large human and environmental costs. While the scars of colonialism are still clear to see, many colonised people around the world see the Federation as a symbol of being able to rise above that past.

    Today, the CAF stands equal with most of Europe when it comes to the standard of living, but the leaders of the Federation often find it difficult to be treated as equals when it comes to geopolitics.

    The French Empire’s grip on its African colonies became a vice following the death of the Commune of France. The Metropole was under the rule of a German monarch, which was anathema to Napoléon VI and his ministers. In an attempt to deal with internal instability, the government would crack down on “agitators”. This led to further instability, which led to further crackdowns.

    The spiral continued for years, leading to several bush wars across the region. At times regional commanders would coup the local government, ruling “in the Emperor’s name”. The collapse was slow at first, but accelerated with terrifying speed. In 1963, the Emperor boarded a plane to Bérn, before travelling on to Ottawa. Despite claims of “Algérie française” and “Je retournerai”, he would never again set foot on African or French soil, instead dying in exile in Mexico.

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    Napoleon IV leaving Algeria. The Emperor doggedly insisted that the trip was a temporary exile, and claimed that he would return with Canadian support. Many of those who remained behind believed him.​

    In the power vacuum that remained, dozens of nations would spring up. Some were dictatorships based around local strongmen. Others were attempts at democratic republics. There were even a few religious theocracies and socialist communes, though the latter would be undermined by Great Power covert operations. The one thing all had in common was that they were poor and underdeveloped. These regions would have the lowest life-expectancy on Earth until the nuclear exchange between Brazil and Argentina.

    The sharp difference in living standards is sometimes a subject of debate. In certain Western circles, the Central African Federation’s success is sometimes presented as proof of Germany’s “benevolent colonisation”, typically contrasted with French colonisation. This view is rejected in most postcolonial studies, as well as by most Africans. They maintain that the CAF succeeded in spite of Germany, not because of it.

    The Indian subcontinent, like much of the former British Empire, went through a tumultuous period following the First Weltkrieg. While British loyalists were able to maintain at least partial control in the south, a coalition of princes would break away in the northwest, while syndicalists would seize control of the east. All three parties would maintain claims that they were the true Indian state, but all parties lacked the means to make these claims true. These groups maintained an uneasy balance of power for years, only occasionally broken by undeclared border skirmishes. All the parties were waiting for the big one; the war that would settle the fate of India once and for all.

    It began shortly after the Commune of France surged across the German border. In those early days, with French and British success in Europe and imminent socialist victory in the American Civil War, it seemed as if the time of the world revolution had arrived. Eager to do their part, the Bharatiya Commune declared war on the Dominion of India. The plan was to knock out the Dominion fast, before Canadian reinforcements could arrive and deal with the Princely States later. At first, this seemed to work, but only because the Princely States were biding their time. They waited, and watched. Keeping a keen eye on the syndicalist supply situation, they waited until the Commune’s supply lines were stretched to the breaking point.

    The States’ attack on the Commune came as a massive shock, but was ultimately a strategic failure. The Princes had hoped to utterly collapse their enemy’s supply network. However, they had gained enough ground and maintained enough momentum to tip the conflict in their favour.

    The fighting on the subcontinent was some of the worst for the entire Weltkrieg, with only the conflict between the Chinese and Japanese coming close to the amount of casualties. Massive formations of mostly rifle-equipped infantry would face each other with minimal support and often for minimal gains. But slowly, the syndicalists were pushed back.

    ZUJ8XVU.jpg


    Soldiers loyal to the Princely States preparing to assault Commune positions. For much of the war, all sides in the conflict lacked the industry needed to create advanced weapons on the scale needed. As such, Human Wave tactics became prevalent across the subcontinent.​

    When victory had been achieved, the Princes turned their attention south, towards the Dominion. By this point, it was clear that Entente support would not be coming. Canada was busy fighting an existential fight with the Americans, while the French Empire was dealing with the aftermath of the failed Côte d'Azur landings. The Dominion stood alone.

    The fighting between the Princely States and the Dominion was as hard as that against the Commune. But through a gradual, attritional war, the Princely States pushed south and in early 1947, the Princes declared victory and a united India, ruled by Indians, was proclaimed.

    At first there was a great deal of optimism, both from inside India and the international community. This new, united India was strong enough to defend its interests, and the industrial sector was large enough to become a significant player in the world’s economy. It was also hoped that there could be some reform to the autocratic system, which had been justified as a wartime necessity.

    This optimism would be short-lived. It took only a few years before the Princes began turning on each other. Disputes about who was entitled to which pieces of wartime spoils were the first issue to emerge. Then old grudges between neighbours began to bubble to the surface, igniting ethnic and religious tensions. Many princes were all too happy to fan these flames if they thought it would give them some sort of advantage.

    The first crack became apparent with the Kerala Uprising in 1956. While the rebellion was quickly put down, the idea of Indian unity was beginning to tarnish. Over the next couple of decades, low-level fighting would be a contestant on the subcontinent. From time to time, this smouldering conflict would explode into a full-on rebellion or miniature civil war. At these times the princes were forced to act. A few would try to reform the system into something more sustainable, but strong personal interests ensured they always failed.

    t9IriKL.jpg


    The Kerala Uprising was a reaction to several prominent firms being “redistributed” from pro-British businessmen to “loyal Indians”, most of them prominent allies of various Princes. The uprising was the first clear indication that the Princes were unable to create a united Indian identity.​

    The exact start date of the Indian Civil War is disputed. Most scholars put it somewhere between 1994 and 1997, with some going as far back as 1989. The war was simultaneously a war of independence, an uprising against perceived (and real) abuses of power and a popular revolt against the Princes. All the Great Powers would be involved to some extent, backing the parties that aligned with their goals by giving equipment and training. By this point, the dream of a united India was shattered, and all parties were just scrambling to gain their share.

    A peace agreement would be signed in 2003, formally recognising 18 new states in the region, with a handful more breaking away in the decades that followed. However, this agreement would not bring lasting peace to the region, as India became home to numerous Great Power proxy wars. Locals and human rights activists bemoaned the situation, calling the subcontinent “the world’s largest weapons testing range”.

    While the Great Power games in the region have died down following the expansion into space, local rivalries still thrive, and it is not uncommon for tensions to flare up into violence. While the Great Powers try to stop, or at least mitigate these conflicts, there is a limit to what they can or want to do. And with Humanity looking more to the stars, less attention falls on the Indian subcontinent.

    South East Asia contains a geopolitical anomaly: the only extant socialist state, the Indochinese Federation. Born in a revolt against the German colonial administration, few expected it to last long. But with German troops needed in Europe to deal with the rising threat of France, the local garrison soon found itself overwhelmed. Even then, most expected the Indochinese Union to be the next member of the Japanese Co-Prosperity Sphere. However, the Japanese opportunistic (and ill-advised) invasion of Siberia gave the Union a second reprieve.

    The revolutionary government took this chance and embarked on a program of “Self-Strengthening”, preparing for the inevitable invasion. But by the time the dust of the Second Weltkrieg finally settled, there had not been one. The Great Powers were busy dealing with their gains (or in Canada’s case, losses), and there was little public support for a war in a faraway jungle. So the Union was left alone. For a time.

    By 1969, the nearby Kingdom of Siam was at a crossroads. Rama VIII, while popular among the people, was not seen as a strong leader. Following the end of the Second Weltkrieg, Siam had slipped into the “Silent War”, a vicious political chess game playing in the halls of power. Various factions within the government constantly competed against one another, deposing this Prime Minister and replacing them with one of their choice. In all such cases, the new Prime Minister would receive the monarch’s blessing.

    This constant cloak and dagger continued as the standard of living among the common folk gradually declined. Unrest grew. The then-current Prime Minister, Thanom Kittikachorn and his cabinet concluded this unrest was due to socialist agitation by the Indochinese Union. Reasoning that an external enemy would unite the people, On Kittikachorn request, King Rama VIII declared war on the Union during a speech in 1969. The invasion soon followed.

    At first, the war went well, with Siamese troops landing in the south. But the results of the Union’s Self-Strengthening was soon revealed. The initial invasion soon found itself bogged down thanks to guerilla strikes against Siamese supply lines. When the Siamese soldiers were reduced to rationing their ammunition, the regular Indochinese military would pound them relentlessly. The Union would then begin a slow overland campaign, with brutal jungle fighting.

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    The initial Siamese attack relied on speed and manoeuvre to seize key locations. To that end, extensive use of helicopters was used to ferry troops into position. The doctrine was loosely based on the German Schwerpunktprinzip. However, while the German military prized logistics, the Siamese military treated the subject as an afterthought, with Kittikachorn describing the subject as “record keeping for clerks and mathematicians”.​

    With the Siamese on the backfoot, the gravity of Kittikachorn’s mistake became clear. Over the years, corruption had been allowed to fester, and the government soon realised that many of the modern weapon systems purchased from the Germans only existed on paper. Slowly, Union troops closed on Bangkok.

    Germany, frustrated at the Siamese and dealing with escalating conflicts in Africa, was initially unwilling to help. However, when it became clear that Siam would fall, the Reichstag approved sending equipment to aid in the war effort. But even as equipment was being loaded onto ships, the Chinese government protested. Hoping to expand its sphere of influence, the Chinese government told Kittikachorn that if he rejected the Germans, and instead accepted Chinese aid, they would supply troops as well. The ensuing backroom politicking would consume valuable time, and ultimately proved fatal.

    As Indochinese troops closed in on Bangkok, more and more young boys were called to the front, and more and more of them would return maimed or in boxes. The unrest from before the war had only intensified, and a group of young, underground Siamese socialists, inspired by the Union’s victory, decided to take matters into their own hands.

    In the dead of night, a group of 200 fighters attacked both the Prime Minister’s mansion and the royal palace. After some brief fighting, the revolutionaries were able to seize control of both the royal family and the government. Kittikachorn and his cabinet were taken outside and executed before the sun rose, but Rama VIII and his family were spared.

    When the morning came, the Siamese people woke to find they had a new government. Given the King’s “blessing”, this revolutionary council would abolish the monarchy, declare the Commune of Thailand and call for a ceasefire with the Indochinese Union, all within the first day.

    There were scattered attempts by local army commanders to resist, but with Union troops already controlling much of the country, these attempts were not long-lived. The Great Powers, taken as much by surprise as anyone else, scrambled to find a response. Germany was already too committed in Africa to muster anything more than a token force, while China had not been prepared to fight both nations at once. When the Commune of Thailand threatened to use the considerable navy it had inherited from Siam to disrupt global shipping lanes, both Great Powers backed down.

    Following the war, the Commune of Thailand would join forces with its former enemy, forming the Indochinese Federation. The Federation is made up of four constituent communes that handle local affairs. It rejects Totalism and runs a democratic system based around trade unions. The Federation also rejects using violence to spread socialism, relying instead on peaceful agitation and education. The results have been limited, but the policy has helped foreign intervention away.

    At the end of the Second Weltkrieg, Korea found itself trading one overlord for another. The Japanese had ruled the peninsula with an iron fist since the end of the Korean Empire. The oppression had only intensified as Russian and Chinese troops pushed the Japanese towards the sea. So when the Chinese installed Yi Un as a puppet king and let the Koreans largely govern themselves, it was seen as a marked improvement.

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    Yi Un in Japanese military dress. Yi’s accent to the throne was an unlikely one. After years of service in the Japanese military, he was captured by Chinese troops as they liberated Korea. Most, including Yi himself, expected that he would be shot as a collaborator. However, Beijing believed that a reborn Korean state needed the legitimacy Yi could bring.​

    However, Yi was never popular with the people, largely thanks to his association with the Japanese military. His health was also rather poor, spending much of the 1960s in and out of hospital. By the time he finally passed in 1970, the public support for the monarchy was minimal. This, combined with reforms inside China, meant that the monarchy would not survive. The Republic of Korea was proclaimed on the 2nd of May, 1970, one day after Yi’s death.

    Korean industry grew rapidly following the war, specialising much more in high-tech manufacturing compared to its northern neighbour. Over time, Korean electronics manufacturing would even challenge German products. But electronics was not the only industry that Korea would dominate.

    Following the expulsion of the Japanese there was a flood of Korean books, plays, films and songs appearing all over the nation. The Japanese had suppressed any expression of Korean national identity for decades and with them finally gone many Koreans poured their energy into the arts, eager to express what it meant to be Korean. Over time, Korean films would appear in Chinese cinemas, and as Russia pivoted East they would also find their way into the Russian sphere.

    However, it would largely remain in the Sino-Russian sphere until the early nineties. At this point, improving relations between Denmark and the Nordic Federation led to an increase in trade and tourism across the Kattegat. Some of these Danish tourists would bring Korean manhwa and aeni back with them. From there they would spread like wildfire through the underground comics scene.

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    The contrast between Korean and European comics was often quite stark. While the initial international spread of manhwa was limited to Europe, it soon caught on across the Atlantic as well.​

    It didn’t take long before these comics spread beyond the underground scene and began edging their way into the mainstream. Comics in the German sphere had for decades been dominated by the bandes dessinées style. While popular, it was largely seen as safe. Korean manhwa’s, on the other hand, often had explicit depictions of sex and violence. Media watchdogs were quick to warn of the danger these comics posed, which only fuelled their popularity.

    By the early 2000s Manwha and aeni had fully entered the mainstream. From there it was comparatively easy for Korean pop music and dramas to follow. Today Korean media can be found throughout Human space (and in some cases outside of it), and Busan is mentioned in the same breath as Babelsberg and Hollywood.

    The Philippines gained their independence as the United States of America collapsed into civil war. Following a brief but doomed insurrection by syndicalists, the young republic was able to establish a nascent democracy.

    However, much like the Indochinese Union, this young and untested nation would soon find itself the target of Japanese imperial ambition. Unlikely to be able to fight off the Japanese conventionally, Philippine politicians were divided on the issue of resistance or joining the Japanese “willingly”.

    Fortunately for them, they never had to answer this question, as Japan would challenge Russia and China and in the process lose their empire. After the war, the Philippines would find itself being courted by German, Chinese and Canadian interests. Unwilling to align itself with any single Great Power, the country would become a nexus of various covert action. Manilla would at times be called the “Minsk of the East”, and the locals would often joke that the capital’s population was at least 15% spies.

    This would come to a rapid end with the fall of Siam. Filipino politicians were shocked at the speed and efficiency of the coup and worried about what would happen should Hanoi decide to spread socialism by force. Key to the coup’s success had been the Siamese government’s unclear alignment towards one Great Power or the other. So, reluctantly, Manilla decided to pick the devil that they knew. Today, the Philippines is home to both Chinese and Russian bases.

    Australasia followed Canada into the Second Weltkrieg, adopting many of the same authoritarian, anti-syndicalist measures. However, unlike Edward VIII’s reign, Eric Campbell was not as fatally undermined by the Entente’s failures during the war. This can largely be attributed to the Australasian homelands being untouched by the war. The Australasian troops sent to Canada had, at least according to propaganda, fought well against the Americans, suffering comparatively few losses. In reality, most of the troops had been relegated to rear-guard duty. The soldiers had trained for combat in tropical climates and were not prepared for fighting in the Canadian winter.

    Following the war, Campbell would further entrench his position by extensive usage of the secret police, as well as propaganda. A new enemy was created in the rising influence of China, and Campbell would position himself as the “King’s Shield in the East”, and Australasia was promoted as a “white haven, beset on all sides by barbarity”.

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    Australasian propaganda posters commonly found in the years following the war. While the majority focused on the imagined threat of China, long-standing anti-German public sentiment was another useful tool.​

    Campbell’s rule would last for decades, but the end came swiftly. When Edward VIII died, and the July Coup ousted the Canadian monarchy, Australasia suddenly found itself alone. Campbell had increasingly been seen as weak due to his fervent support of the monarchy, and now his last shreds of legitimacy crumbled. James Saleam challenged him for control, and Campbell, who was slowly dying from undisclosed cancer, stepped down, letting Saleam establish the Australasian Republic.

    Over time, many commentators would compare the nation to Japan. But while Japan had a steady stream of people fleeing across the Tsushima strait, such occurrences were much rarer coming from Australasia, with the Australasian navy spending most of its time patrolling to prevent just such occurrences. The few times people made it out, it painted a picture of an oppressive regime quelling all decent with extreme force.

    Despite these reports, the eyes of the world, and the Great Powers, fell elsewhere. Australasia was far away, and there were more urgent issues all around the world. Australasia would spend almost a century undisturbed.

    That isolation came to an end in 2061. For years Australasia had been suffering from extreme weather brought on by climate change. But where other nations had the wealth or international partners to construct mitigating infrastructure, Australasia lacked both, and bore the brunt of nature unprotected. Unrest grew and the government looked weak, so it needed a scapegoat. As usual, it decided to blame it all on the indigenous population. But unlike before, the new President, Oliver Black, decided to push far beyond the norm. The remaining native tribes realised that they had a choice: fight or die.

    This had the most profound effect in New Zealand. Already somewhat resentful at being treated as a distant periphery, most New Zeelanders were at best apathetic towards Canberra. So when several Māori groups rose up, many locals joined them. Seizing several cities, the resistance fighters manned TV and radio stations and broadcast an indictment of the Australasian government, along with a plea for help. Meanwhile, the Australasian Navy scrambled to react.

    While nothing in the broadcasts surprised intelligence agents or experts on the region, the pleas caught the public’s attention. There were demands around the world for the Great Powers to intervene on New Zealand's behalf. In Berlin, these demands were welcomed with open arms. Germany had long maintained its position as Weltpolizei, but had for the longest time lacked an opportunity to demonstrate its might. It didn’t take long for the Reichstag to approve sending a task force to the region.

    This prompted the other Great Powers to get involved, as most of them objected to Germany’s self-declared policing role. At first, the Kaiserliche Marine bristled at the suggestion, but the Chinese Ambassador informed the Chancellor that the Chinese and Russian navies would be present in the region regardless of what Germany had to say about it. After this, a semi-joint command was agreed on to prevent any “friendly” fire incidents. When the Canadian navy also decided to join, the admirals in Kiel despaired but relented.

    The ensuing naval battle was one of the most one-sided in history. The Australasian navy was composed of mostly outdated patrol craft, with a handful of missile cruisers and diesel-electric submarines. The task force arrayed against them included five carriers, seven nuclear attack submarines and an escort fleet that would have been more than sufficient on its own. The battle as a whole lasted only 87 minutes, from the first shot fired to the last, and featured absurd scenes where German and Canadian ships were racing each other to sink more enemy ships.

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    The German missile cruiser SMS Emden caused headlines around the world when she raced her Canadian counterpart, RCS Dauntless, to attack Australasian ships. She would sink two patrol craft and damage a third, which would later be sunk by Dauntless. Emden’s captain, Kathrin Kranefuss, would be officially reprimanded for her recklessness, but in private she was lauded for defending the Kaiserliche Marine’s honour.​

    Following the battle, the situation in New Zealand was stabilised, with a provisional government established by the resistance groups. With their mission accomplished, most of the Great Powers were content to just maintain a blockade of Australia. Germany, however, had not sufficiently demonstrated its military might and proposed an invasion. The other Great Powers were not as keen on this, as without a navy, Australia would not be a threat to anyone. This only emboldened Germany, who assembled a multinational task force to deal with the Australasian Republic.

    Four months after the Battle of the Tasman Sea, German cruise missiles struck military targets on the Australian eastern seaboard. Helicopters and landing crafts would follow. It was about as one-sided as the naval battle, as most major cities on the east coast were in German hands within the first week. The whole campaign was over by week four. In Berlin the politicians celebrated with champagne, congratulating themselves on a job well done. It was the start of Germany’s “fourteen-year ulcer”.

    The coalition troops had expected to be met as liberators, as they had been in New Zealand. However, the Australasian Republic had maintained a much tighter grip on the mainland. Generations had lived knowing nothing except what the state told them. This alone would have been a gargantuan mountain for the coalition to deal with, but it worsened the situation by making one fatal mistake.

    Following the war, the Australasian military was disbanded, with the regular, low-ranking troops being sent home. However, the military had been one of the few reliable sources of income in the fragile Australasian economy. Already stressed to the breaking point by the war, the economy went into freefall and unemployment spiralled. As thousands of trained, ideologically indoctrinated young men came home, they found no way to support themselves. The anger began to boil, and the anger turned to insurgency.

    Germany and its allies had not been prepared for what came after the invasion and floundered. The insurgency was treated as a military threat and was thus a problem to be solved with military force. The ensuing collateral damage further fuelled the spiral of violence, prompting more military force.

    Meanwhile, at home, both the public and the politicians were souring on the war. The glory of the early successes had faded, and the bill was due. After less than two years, the main priority was getting out of Australia without losing face. To that end, an Australian Republic was established and democratic elections were held. But the new republic lacked legitimacy, and voter turnout was only once recorded as being in the double digits.

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    A woman votes during the first free election in Australian history for more than a century. Despite this, few Australians took the opportunity. The reasons were varied. Some feared terrorist attacks on the polling stations. Others saw the democratic parties as mere German puppets. But the most significant was the deep-seated indoctrination telling many Australians that democracy was a path to weakness.​

    With every ambush, German and allied soldiers returned home maimed or in boxes. The overall casualty figure was low considering some of the wars Germany had been involved in, but every casualty created dozens of new voices calling for Germany and their allies to leave. When Rolf Steinhäusl ran on a campaign that he would withdraw German troops within the year, he received overwhelming support. As Chancellor, he would go through with his plan, despite pleas from Canberra that they were not ready. Thirteen months and two days after being sworn in, the last German troops left Australian soil.

    At first, it seemed the Australian Republic would hold, with only sporadic fighting against insurgents. But when Lieutenant General Oliver Hayes was ordered to report to Canberra to face charges of corruption, he brought a couple of divisions along with him. President Jack Harris tried to organise a resistance, but the troops either stayed in their barracks or joined the march on the capital.

    In Germany, the public saw scenes of German civilians being loaded onto overcrowded boats in Sydney Harbour. President Harris asked Chancellor Steinhäusl for military assistance, Steinhäusl offered to evacuate Harris and his family. Harris refused. He would be executed nine months later, following an extended show trial.

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    Former President Harris on trial following the coup. Most of the charges were complete fabrication, but the important part was the public display. General Hayes ordered that the trial be broadcast internationally.​

    In the Reichstag, Steinhäusl faced criticism, with the opposition blaming him for the events in Australia. When asked if he would resign, he replied that he was more than happy to, and let the opposition order troops to return to the island. Following this, the opposition grew very quiet. Nobody in Germany wanted to return to Australia.

    Today, Australia is called the Dark Continent. News are infrequent, mostly coming from refugees trying to flee by boat across the Torres Strait. The Great Powers maintain an unofficial blockade, and the Australian State shows little desire to challenge it.

    New Zealand, on the other hand, is doing better, trying to slowly recover from a century of national populism and colonialism. A key aspect of this is blaming the worst excesses on Canberra, who are not present to dispute the New Zealanders’ version of events. While some, especially native groups, have called this cowardly, it has become a key part of social cohesion on the islands.

    Politically, New Zealand is in a peculiar position with regards to foreign relations. It has three foreign naval bases, a German one, a Canadian one and a joint Sino-Russian one. While highly unusual, all Great Powers see the strategic need in the region and thus don’t bother each other much for fear of rocking the boat.

    The American Republic has been called a dozen nations masquerading as a state. Following the (partial) reunification, Americans have struggled to see themselves as one people, with regional loyalties often cut far deeper than any national ones. This only worsened following the Third Civil War, where federal failure to deal with critical issues led to outbreaks of violence across the nation. While Canadian intervention was able to prevent a total collapse of the union, it cost the near-total dissolution of the federal government. Most Americans' only interaction with the federal government is the postal system. Otherwise, all function of a modern state is handled on a local level.

    The lack of unity also extends culturally, and at times takes on an almost ethnic dimension, with grievances between groups in some cases extending back centuries. While the Third and Second Civil Wars are frequently cited as the source of these conflicts, some go all the way back to the First Civil War. Midwesterners are often accused of being tyrannical socialists, while southerners are accused of being neo-confederate national populists.

    The most clear example of this is found in the New England Republic, which is a separate country. New Englanders actively distance themselves from other Americans. In their eyes, the New England Republic is a more accurate representation of the values of the original thirteen colonies, while the American Republic has been corrupted by various extreme ideologies over the centuries.

    Considering its small size, the NER is an economic powerhouse. While New York would never regain its position as the financial capital of the world, it did survive as a regional centre despite the hardships under socialist occupation. Today the city serves as the nation’s capital and has a vibrant music and arts scene. Many famous bands would start their careers in the NER underground scene.

    Cuba has been called the world’s largest aircraft carrier. The nickname dates back to the final days of the Second Weltkrieg, when German bombers would take off from the island to hammer the industry of the Union of Socialist American States. Having gained independence when the United States fell into turmoil, the island nation initially tried to remain neutral. But as the socialists drove south towards the sea, it soon became clear who would win in the struggle. With thousands of American refugees arriving by boat every day, all of them with new horror stories, it became clear that Cuba could not stand alone.

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    American refugees fleeing to Cuba and other Caribbean countries on overloaded boats. The syndicalist drive to the sea split the American Union State in two. Most historians view this as the turning point of the Second Civil War, where syndicalist victory became inevitable.​

    Initially, Cuba aligned itself with Canada, being both close and staunchly anti-syndicalist. However, when the final struggle finally arrived, Canada proved woefully inadequate, being reduced to fighting a guerilla war in a matter of weeks.

    As the Americans focused on their northern neighbour, Cuba was not under immediate threat of invasion. Air raids, however, were common, and the relatively small Red Navy tried enforcing a blockade on the island. Cuban merchants soon became adept blockade runners, getting vital supplies in. But even so, everyone knew it was only a matter of time. Cuba would have to look elsewhere for help. And reports from Europe told of Germany ending the war with the Union of Britain by using some kind of superweapon.

    While the nuclear attack against Chicago effectively decapitated the Union of Socialist American States, there would still be a need for boots on the ground, and Germany needed a staging ground for such an invasion. Cuban leadership was quick to enter talks with the Germans.

    Following the war, Cuba became an official ally of Germany, leasing the naval base at Guantanamo Bay and building several military airports. For a while Cuba would also unofficially host several medium-range ballistic missiles carrying nuclear warheads. This caused no end of consternation in Canada, who knew about the missiles, but were afraid of publicising it due to increased domestic unrest. The missiles would be removed following the July Coup, when a secret deal was struck between Germany and the new Canadian Republic. By this point the missiles were obsolete and had been replaced by missiles that could reach Canada from Germany itself.

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    German medium-range ballistic missiles in Cuba. The missiles were described as “the worst kept secret in geopolitics''. When the Russian journalist Ignatkovich Vasil Borisovich wrote an expose on the missiles, he got much of his information by asking Cuban taxi drivers. Despite this, the Canadian government suppressed all reporting on the subject. Most Canadians didn’t learn about them until after the July Coup.​

    Culturally, Cuba has become something of a mixing pot. During the Second American Civil War, thousands of American refugees ended up in Cuba. While many would return home following the war, a sizable portion stayed. These ‘Americanos’ have become somewhat infamous for not assimilating, while also having very strong opinions on how the Cuban government runs things.

    But they are not the only group found on the island. Due to its geopolitical situation, Cuba is seen as something of a gateway between Europe and the Americas. People seeking to live and work in Europe will often target Cuba first to ‘get the foot in the door’. From there it is considerably easier to get a visa to work in Western Europe.

    Though Cuba also receives its fair share of people from Europe as well. The island is a popular destination for tourists, exchange students and people looking to retire somewhere warm. The island has been called an honorary member of the Europäischer Wirtschaftsbund, and not always jokingly.

    Cuba’s position became much more precarious following “El Error”. The nuclear devastation of South America naturally caused a humanitarian disaster in its wake, and those who could flee did so. Many of them ended up in Cuba, and would over time settle in Europe. But in the long term there would be a steady influx of refugees who could reach Cuba, but not be able to continue on to Europe. Over time, these people would form an exploited underclass, often coming into conflict with the locals.

    Following the nuclear exchange, South America fell under the supranational organisation of the South American Reconstruction Mandate. This SARM had very little formal authority, but as both the Argentinian and Brazilian governments were gone and the surviving governments were dealing with the largest crisis in their nation’s history, it quickly became the de facto authority in the region.

    In the early years, the SARM focused on direct relief and reestablishing core infrastructure like clean water and sanitation, while also trying to clean up as much radiation as possible. Many South Americans, especially those living in the areas directly affected, were living hand to mouth, dependent on SARM supply convoys. It was during this period that anyone with assets that hadn’t been destroyed, or those with desirable skills, began to emigrate from South America. At first this was welcomed, as it put less strain on the relief efforts. But it soon became clear that South America as a whole was suffering from a massive brain drain.

    As the years went on, the relief efforts shifted from providing emergency aid to rebuilding the shattered economy. Generous incentives were given to attract new developments in the region. Modern, almost fully automated factories were built across the continent. But here the SARM made a critical error. In most industrialised nations, national governments levied significant automation taxes to compensate for the loss in employment these factories caused. However, in South America the local governments lacked the clout to introduce similar laws. The SARM, which each year had to do more with less, accepted this and hoped that the initial construction boom would be enough to kickstart the economy. It was not, and after a brief period of improvement, wages stagnated and the economy ground to a halt.

    Today, living standards in South America are among the lowest on Earth. Unemployment is at the same level as much of the industrialised world, but without the basic income to sustain it. Crime is omnipresent and most who are able to emigrate do so at the first opportunity, mostly to Central and North America. This has led to tensions, and several countries have limited immigration from South America.

    The SARM still exists, though mostly as an advisory board to foster regional cooperation. Most South Americans view the organisation with scepticism if not outright hostility. The governments in the region only view it marginally better. Both groups have a dim view of the future, seeing little improvement coming without drastic change.

    The opening of the hyperlanes and expansion into the stars might just be that drastic change. Not just for South America, but for all mankind. But while the galaxy has much to offer, it is not without threat.
     
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    Committee Meetings
  • Committee Meetings​

    April 2160 - Stettin - Confederation of Sol Assembly Hall - Meeting room 4

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    Artistic rendition of the first meeting of the Galactic Council. While the image received widespread publication, it is infamous amongst historians. The real meeting was not done in person, and most of the alien species depicted are wildly inaccurate, mostly based on the artist's imagination.​

    “Very well, the meeting is adjourned for now,” Chairman Sows the Fields said. “We will resume in two beyromes. Let’s all take a moment to refresh and recharge.”

    The link cut, but Dudás Viktória waited until the tech confirmed the mike was dead. As soon as she got the thumbs up she pushed herself back in her chair.
    “Guahhh..! What the fuck is a beyrome?”
    Beside her assistant, Vass Dominik, was typing on his computer. “Not sure, Chancellor, but the converter says two of them is three hours and twelve minutes. I’m sure that’s nice and round to the Pithok.”

    Viktória pushed herself out of the chair and stretched her limbs. Her neck cracked with every movement. She looked over to Vice-Chancellor Burian. There were two origami cranes on his desk, folded from pages torn from his notebook. A third stood half finished.
    “Petr, this is hell,” she said.
    He looked up at her wryly. “What? Don’t you find the subject of intergalactic shipping exciting enough?”

    Viktória slumped back in her chair. It was a mistake. She’d spent an eternity in it so far, and she would spend another eternity in another two beyromes. Any moment out of it had to be treasured.

    “It is the first pan-galactic meeting. There are two ongoing wars. The threat of war is looming elsewhere. And all the fucking Pithok wants to discuss are the legal norms and rights of merchant shipping.”
    “In fairness, they started one of those wars because there are no norms and rights for merchant shipping.”
    “Petr, they started the war because they’re a bunch of morons.”
    Petr grinned. He enjoyed seeing her suffer. Viktória suspected that was the only reason the meetings hadn’t driven him insane. That and the origami cranes.

    “Can you handle the press conference today?” she asked.
    “Can I make some snide remarks about our alien hosts?”
    “You can. But make them good. I want to see them go viral. Unless Herman Schneider and the rest of the Wochenüberblick crew spend at least four minutes joking about it, I will make you issue a formal apology. To someone.”
    “Hah! I’ll think of something spicy.”

    Viktória’s stomach grumbled. “You may be on to something there. Want to get something Thai for dinner? I need something spicy to invigorate me.”
    Petr got up, gently setting the third origami crane aside. “That sounds excellent. And we can even please the syndies a bit by claiming to just be enjoying the culture of our newest member state.”
    She chuckled. “Were you always this cynical?”
    “Always, and don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

    * * *​

    The exact point at which the Early Space Age ended, and the Human Interstellar Age began is a matter of some debate. The earliest proposed date is following the Johannes von Gmunden’s first jump to Alpha Centauri, which opened up the stars to Humanity. This view isn’t as popular, as it would take years before Humanity encountered life among the stars.

    The second point is following the First Lavis War, and the establishment of the Space Security Administration. While this date is much more popular, most historians see it as a precursor to the establishment of the Sol Confederacy, by far the most popular date to end the Early Space Age.

    Everyone, however, agrees that the Interstellar Age was well and truly underway when Humanity joined the Galactic Community.

    OnSis1e.jpg


    Incomplete map of the galaxy, showing the approximate position of the various powers. It would take decades before Humanity had a complete map of the galaxy. Most powers, including Humanity, were unwilling to share too much information in a volatile galaxy.​

    The birth of the Galactic Community was in some ways an act of hypocrisy. While Humanity was introduced to the stakes of interstellar war early on with the Lavis Wars, the Galactic North had been relatively peaceful. While the various stellar nations had their differences and disputes, they were largely resolved peacefully. The Pithok of the Vetyr Shipping Alliance especially prided themselves as being peaceful mediators and worked for mutual understanding, while also promoting their commercial interests.

    So when the Sildor Blessed Union invaded the Aifu Remnant in a naked land grab, the Pithok panicked. They scrambled to organise talks between the two parties, but neither side was interested in talking. The Sildor viewed the war as a holy undertaking, while they saw the Pithok as weak, godless merchants. The Aifu, meanwhile, saw them as more meddling aliens. The conflict would be decided through force of arms, not diplomacy.

    The Vetyr Shipping Alliance responded to this crisis by strengthening its ties to the Connisthian Hegemony. While the Vetyr were unused to war, the Connisthians were the opposite. The Vetyr Trading Council hoped to use them as a counterweight to Sildor aggression and began supplying them with equipment, including weapons.

    However, the Connisthian Hegemony was notoriously belligerent, and while hostile to the Sildor, they were also hostile to several other nations in the region. The Citizen Confederation of Adanir was among them, and the Vetyr trade route went through their territory. The Adanir were unsurprisingly upset at their shipping lanes being used to arm their enemy, and Consul Kismesu Naszadhet ordered the fleet to inspect and seize any Vetyr cargo ship carrying weapons. Within a month, twenty-seven transports were forced to submit to inspection at gunpoint, and fourteen of these ships were seized for transporting war materiel.

    This was the start of a cross-species culture clash. To the Citizen Confederation, seizing ships carrying military equipment was a fairly low step on the escalation ladder. To the Vetyr Shipping Alliance, however, it was an act of piracy.

    Here the culture clash deepened. To the Vetyr, piracy and commerce raiding were the exclusive purview of criminals and terrorists. As such, the Vetyr Board of Directors believed that the Adanir had a piracy problem, and that claims that the ships had been seized by orders of the Consul was an attempt at saving face. The Board decided to deal with the perceived piracy issue and ordered the Security Fleet to sortie and destroy the pirates. Despite the Consul herself warning the Board that such an action would be met with force, the Board pushed on.

    The Security Fleet sortied into Adanir space and soon found itself facing the Citizen’s Fleet. After an extended, if inconclusive, battle, the Vetyr - Adanir Trade War was a reality.

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    The opening shots of the Vetyr - Adanir Trade War. The Vetyr Security Fleet was larger and slightly more advanced than the Adanir Citizen’s Fleet. However, the Citizen’s Fleet was better trained and prepared for conflict and so inflicted disproportionate losses on the Vetyr. Unfortunately for the Adanir, the Vetyr would learn from the defeat, and learn quickly.
    (Art by Sebastian Duran)​

    The Adanir immediately called on the Byrrieck People’s Union, with whom they had a defensive agreement. Meanwhile, the Connisthians approached the Vetyr, offering to fight on their side. Their exact motivations have never really been clear, but many xenopologists posit that they joined due to their cultural need to prove themselves in battle.

    Among the Pithok a sense of despair unfolded. The Shipping Alliance had hoped to prevent future conflict with the Sildor and had instead created a larger conflict on their doorstep, all over a cultural miscommunication[1]. The Peace and Prosperity Commission, a private think tank operating within Vetyr space dedicated to promoting the free flow of trade, released an analysis six months after the outbreak of war. In their view, the conflict was the result of a lack of understanding between the various species of the galaxy. Thus, to prevent future conflicts that would no doubt do tremendous economic damage, they proposed a forum where the various species could talk as equals, find common ground and develop solutions together. A Galactic Community.

    The idea was enthusiastically received by the Board of Directors, who began promoting it among the various space-faring nations of the galaxy. While there was some hesitation for an idea promoted by a nation that had just started a major war, it did find support, especially among the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association.

    The WBTA was trying to do business in a region of space where tensions were slowly boiling. While the Suramo did not want war, they did understand it much better than the Pithok. And their corporate assets on the Ring could tell them just how devastating sustained orbital bombardment could be.

    When the WBTA joined the Vetyr’s project, they brought along its strategic partners in the region, including the Sol Confederacy. This small handful of members gave the project enough legitimacy for it to reach critical mass. More nations joined it until the only nations outside of it were the Citizen Confederation of Adanir, the Byrrieck People’s Union and the Aifu Remnant[2]. The Byrrieck and the Adanir were suspicious of the project, seeing as it had grown out of the Vetyr’s war of aggression. However, seeing that most of the galactic powers had already joined, they joined as well, fearing that not having a seat at the table would mean that terms would be dictated to them.

    That only left the Aifu Remnant. The Aifu were another remnant of the previous cycle, forced to live in sterile space stations since the Lilarobius destroyed their immune system. The Remnant had lived like this for millennia, fruitlessly trying to find a cure or some other solution to their sorry state.

    When the younger races began expanding, the Aifu knew they had to act to keep themselves safe. Spreading beyond a handful of core systems, they claimed a significant portion of their sector, both to have a solid resource base and to maintain a defensive buffer.

    While the Aifu Remnant was as xenophobic as the Lavis Republic had been, it manifested in a markedly different way. While the Lilarobius saw the galaxy as a threat that had to be culled, the Aifu turned inward. If the Aifu had their way, they would be left alone, free to seek a cure without alien interference. The aliens would not be so kind.

    The Sildor Blessed Union’s invasion was not unexpected, but it was devastating. The Sildor were superior in numbers, technology and strategy, and the Aifu were methodically pushed back. All their fears about the aliens confirmed, the Aifu were not impressed by the offer to join the Galactic Community. However, when the Adanir and the Byrrieck joined, the Aifu reluctantly conceded that they had more to lose than gain by remaining outside[3].

    The reaction on Earth to the greater galactic community was twofold. The first was the existence of the very humanlike Sildor.

    bbgRbns.jpg


    Superficially, Humans and Sildor were extraordinarily alike, but there were marked differences underneath the skin, though this wouldn’t be known for decades. The most significant of these was the quadruple heart setup, where four hearts worked in conjunction to pump blood around the body. Unfortunately for the Sildor, all four hearts had to work to sustain life, and heart failure was a common medical issue.​

    Most xenologists were quick to bring up the subject of convergent evolution and posited that while the Sildor might be superficially similar to Humans, their biology could be significantly different.

    This did little to stem the tide of conspiracy theories. Online discourse was flooded by wild theories about the Sildor. This was not helped by most pictures of the Sildor depicting them in formal wear, which included a lot of robes and togas. This gave the impression that the Sildor were significantly more advanced than Humanity[4], which fuelled conspiracy theories about how the Sildor had manipulated human history and were responsible for many ancient buildings.

    The second, and more geopolitically significant, effect was the Indochinese Federation joining the Confederacy. While the Federation joining was initially welcomed, privately the various Great Powers expressed a mix of annoyance and concern. These concerns were increased when Chairwoman Lê Phạm Thu Thủy announced the construction of six modern warships.

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    The Karl Marx was a destroyer based on a modified Ocelot-class design and was joined by five Edelweiss-class corvettes. The task force made the Indochinese Federation the sixth largest space fleet by tonnage (the Nordic Union had more ships, but were all of a smaller design). The ships would spend most of their career on anti-piracy patrols, a duty they pursued with remarkable aggression.
    (Art by Ridwan Chandra)​

    Chancellor of the Confederacy Dudás Viktória, however, did not share these concerns. With the Indochinese Federation’s admission, the Sol Confederacy only lacked the membership of the Empire of Japan and the Australian State[5]. Both of these were generally seen as pariah states and unrepresentative of Humanity, leading Dudás to assert that the Confederacy represented all of Humanity during the first meeting of the Galactic Community.

    Said first meeting was an awkward affair. In her memoirs, Dudás described it as “the worst teleconference I’ve ever had to sit through”. Using a network of Russalka phones (and similar devices of alien origin) the participants were able to speak to each other in something that approximated real-time. However, communication lag was still significant, forcing the event to be heavily moderated. This resulted in a very formal and dry first meeting, not helped by the two ongoing wars.

    The first issue for discussion was formalising norms for interstellar trade, a subject pushed for by the Vetyr Shipping Alliance and supported by the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association. While many on Earth (and indeed, many around the galaxy) were far more in favour of discussing the two ongoing wars, there was too little consensus to reach any useful conclusion. The subject of trade, however, had already started one conflict and could do so again.

    In the end, even the Vetyr and the WBTA were disappointed. The various species had vastly different standards of what was and was not acceptable to do to a merchant ship. Working out some sort of agreement that would (mostly) satisfy everyone would take time, and the parties agreed to form a committee that would examine the issue.

    VpNOWZU.jpg


    There was wide agreement that something needed to be done to safeguard galactic trade, but exactly what and how things needed to be done would take years to iron out. The Aifu would delay any agreement by years due to frequent flip-flopping on what would be acceptable to them.​

    And so ended the first meeting of the Galactic Community. Not with a grand proclamation to a bright new future, but with an agreement to establish a committee that would examine the framework for future interstellar trade. Following the conclusion, Dudás was clear about her disappointment. It was hoped that the Galactic Community would at least offer a platform to resolve disputes before they escalated to violence.

    Hopes were not high.



    [1] - To this day, the Vetyr Shipping Alliance denies any responsibility for the conflict, maintaining it was a simple misunderstanding that grew out of control. The Board of Directors also maintain that the Shipping Alliance were not the aggressor, but rather claims that the Citizen Confederation was at fault for opening fire on the Security Fleet.

    [2] - The Rixi Chroniclers and the Ugarlak Forerunners were invited, but didn’t respond. Most parties involved with the formation of the Galactic Community did not expect them to join. No invitation was issued to the Fjasivlin Void Raiders.

    [3] - The Aifu Remnant would on several occasions leave the Galactic Community, only to rejoin a few years (or in some cases, months) later. This was usually in response to domestic pressures. In all cases, the Galactic Community maintained back door channels with the Remnant.

    [4] - Studies on Sildor technological capabilities put them on about the same level as Humanity. A few studies even put Humanity slightly ahead on military technologies.

    [5] - The Japanese Republic had an observer seat within the Confederacy and was planning to join within the next ten to fifteen years.
     
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    A New Horizon
  • A New Horizon​

    December 2163 - Albion - Mackenzie King Space Port

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    For its citizens, Albion was a paradise following its terraforming and the Canadian government had no issues attracting colonists. In fact, the project had an enormous waiting list, as there was not enough housing available to accommodate those wishing to relocate. To rectify this, the Canadian government took unconventional (and controversial) steps.
    (Art by Mark Williams)​

    The white ceiling swam back and forth. The primal part of White Fir’s brain was working overtime, trying to determine what was wrong. Their gas bladder had deflated. That was bad. Some predator could come and rip them apart. If they didn’t get help as soon as possible, they would–

    Someone floated over to White Fir, looking down at them. “Calm down. You're safe. You’ve just woken up from stasis.”
    White Fir’s primal part didn’t calm down. It didn’t understand what was said, but there was enough for the rational brain to latch on to. The speaker wore a medical uniform. The room they were in looked like a medical bay. A bit too bright for White Fir’s eyes. Probably a Human medical bay.

    The person floating above looked pleased. “That’s better. How do you feel?”
    “Like crap. I think I’ve deflated…”
    “Completely normal.” They connected something to a stent in White Fir’s side. A moment later their gas bladder began inflating. “Do you remember who you are?”
    “White Fir.”
    “And do you know where you are and why?”
    “Albion… And I’m here for… work.”

    The doctor looked pleased. “No obvious mental impairment. Vitals are well within normal parameters. Everything looks good. We’ll have a look over you once you’ve been reinflated. So just lay here while I go see to some of my other patients. Then we’ll get you on your way. Good?”
    “Good.”
    "Excellent. And welcome to Albion, White Fir.”

    A few hours later White Fir was floating in a waiting room with about two dozen others. They all struggled to maintain buoyancy. Gravity on Albion was higher than the Ring, so that would take some getting used to. What White Fir was certain they would never get used to was the darkness outside.

    On a theoretical level, White Fir understood it. Albion was a sphere spinning around a star, and that meant that at any given point, half the sphere was pointed away from the star. Back on the Ring, a Human had once tried explaining it to a young White Fir by using a ball and something called a ‘lighter’. White Fir had panicked and fled when the devices produced a flame.

    Even if they understood it, the darkness was intimidating. How would they get enough energy when the sun was gone half the time? The Humans couldn’t help; they got energy by consuming living things (something that still unsettled White Fir). But there had to be some way of dealing with it. The Humans wouldn’t bring them all this way just to let them wither and die.

    A voice deep in the back of White Fir’s mind echoed the hardliners back home, how the Humans were secretly killing Lilarobius using various horrific means. White Fir did their best to silence the voice. If the Humans had wanted them dead, they would have done so from orbit. When had the hardliners been right about anything?

    Except for the bit about them consuming living things to stay alive. They’d actually been right about that part.

    A vehicle pulled in outside of the waiting room. It was clearly a Human design, crudely retrofitted for Lilarobius use. It was rectangular in shape and it had at some time contained seats for Humans. Those had been removed and anchoring points installed in their stead. Everyone knew it was for them, and they all floated closer, carrying the few possessions they’d been allowed to bring.

    The ride was done in silence as the vehicle took them from the spaceport to their dorms. Out the windows, White Fir could see Humans going about their business. A few of them looked back at them as they passed. White Fir had never gotten good at reading Human facial expressions, but they were probably not happy to see them.

    A few of the Humans pointed at them as they passed. Most of them were weird, small Humans. Children presumably. White Fir had never seen one on the Ring, but the Ring was a foreign place to the Humans. Now things were different. Now they were the interloper in a foreign place.

    Their ride took them out of the city, towards a cluster of new development still under construction. There weren’t many Humans around here, and the few that White Fir could see looked like guards.

    They weren’t the well-armed, hyper-vigilant guards they’d met on the Ring. These didn’t even wear body armour. But even so, they kept a close eye on them as they drove past.

    Finally they pulled over next to some temporary housing. Unlike all the other buildings they’d seen so far, this looked like it had been designed with Lilarobius in mind. Gone were the doorways that went all the way to the floor, and the second floor didn’t have large staircases leading up to them. Large windows would let in plenty of sunlight, and through them, White Fir could see the light of dozens of sun lamps.

    As they filed out, carrying their bags along with them, they found a Human waiting for them. Unlike the guards they’d seen on the way, this man radiated authority in a way reminiscent of the Human officers back on the Ring. White Fir wasn’t sure if it was just their imagination, but he carried himself like a soldier.

    “You’re all here, good.” They all lined up in front of him, not making a sound. “I am Jonathan Armstrong. I am the head of alien labour here. That means I am responsible for you, and you are responsible to me. If there is a problem, you come to me. If you cause a problem, you will be brought to me. Is that clear?”

    “Yes, Mr. Armstrong,” they all said in unity.

    “Good. First shift starts tomorrow at eight. There will be a bus to pick you up half an hour before that. You are to be ready and waiting for it when it arrives. There are alarm clocks already set in your rooms. Understood?”

    “Yes, Mr. Armstrong.”

    “Now, some practical details. You will be four a room. I don’t care how you distribute, but if you decide to fight about it, you will be brought to me. Furthermore, you are not allowed to travel into town without written permission from me or a site chief. And trust me, you do not want to be in town without written permission.”

    He scanned them for a moment. “Any questions?”

    “Um, yes.” Someone next to White Fir bobbed up slightly. “Will we be allowed to send any messages home?”

    “We will organise a comms package in the next three days. Three minutes of video, or ten minutes of audio only. Text is unlimited. Standard low-priority transmission protocol. Any other questions?”

    Silence. There were probably more questions, but not enough bravery.

    “Good. I will drop by your work site towards the end of your shift tomorrow. If there are any issues you can bring them up then.”

    Mr. Armstrong didn’t wait to see them settled. Instead, he walked to a waiting car and left them floating in the darkness. For a moment the darkness was all-encompassing, the starry sky overhead both beautiful and terrifying. Then someone broke the spell by fluttering towards the door. A moment later they were all moving.

    White Fir ended up in a room on the second floor together with the one who’d asked about sending messages back home and two others they hadn’t seen before. The room was spartan: a central sun lamp and a handful of anchoring points, along with a lockable chest for their possessions. About the bare minimum needed to survive. But if there was one thing Lilarobius had become good at since the Siege of Lav, it was surviving.

    Out the window, White Fir could see the unfinished skyscrapers, dark teeth against the dark sky. If travelling hundreds of lightyears in search of work was what was needed to survive, then that was fine. They would survive.


    * * *​

    Despite the Galactic Community’s disappointing first meeting, Humanity went into the 2160s with a degree of optimism. There were no great external threats to Humanity, and the Confederacy had so far handled the fractious internal politics well enough. Expansion continued along the Rim, with several promising new worlds being surveyed. And to cap it off, the Koreans landed on Mugunghwa in the fall of 2160.

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    The ocean world of Ynessa III and the continental world of Tunobo II were still years away from any colony ship being dispatched, but the Confederacy prioritised getting the infrastructure needed established. While the exact borders of the Aifu Remnant were unclear, most estimates put them close to Tunobo.​

    As the survey ships explored the Rim, two colony ships were being assembled back on Earth. One was going to the moon Selnoc IIIa, carrying an assortment of Irish, Scottish, Welsh and English colonists. The moon, dubbed Avalon, was to be a joint venture between the inhabitants of the British Isles. There were some concerns about the joint expedition, with people citing the often dark history between the various nations. The Minister for Colonial Affairs dismissed these concerns, saying: “They’ve got an entire planetoid to work with. If they can’t get along, then they can just settle somewhere else.”

    The second ship was also a joint venture, but for a single nation. The American Republic had been granted colonisation rights for Dirmius II. However, given America’s peculiar governmental structure, it was effectively 40 different nations working together with just the barest hint of a central executive. If there had been concerns about Selnoc IIIa, there were significant doubts about Dirmius II. The viability of the project was even questioned by various members of the Confederation Assembly, mostly by those who desired the colony for their own country. However, Canada backed the American bid vigorously, effectively ending the matter.

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    The American colony, optimistically dubbed Unity, faced some unique obstacles. The atmosphere was breathable, but contained various chemicals that had an aphrodisiac effect on Humans. This quickly led to the colony gaining a reputation for debauchery. Back on Earth, American religious leaders would regularly condemn colonists for “leaving God’s chosen for a life of sin.” In the long term, it would lead to the reemergence of the Quiverfull movement amongst American colonists.​

    But Humans were not the only people moving around in the Sol Confederacy. Mugunghwa and the terraformed Albion had climates suitable for Lilarobius. It didn’t take long before unscrupulous actors took advantage of this as a source of cheap labour. Ships full of workers departed the Ring, some of its passengers hoping for a better life, while others just hoped to make some money before returning.

    This proved controversial back on Earth. Xenophobic elements of the public called this a “covert infiltration of Human space” and argued that the Lilarobius should be confined to the Ring. At the same time, leftists, spearheaded by the Indochinese Federation, condemned Korea and Canada for exploiting the Ring’s desperate. However, both of these complaints fell on deaf ears in the Confederation Assembly. The Confederation Charter treated colonial worlds as sovereign territory of the controlling planet. Thus, the Confederacy had no say in the internal policy of its member nations.

    As Humanity continued its peaceful expansion, the troubles in the Galactic North came to an end. On the 14th of January, 2161, a ceasefire went into effect. While negotiations would take months to finalise, the outcome of the war was clear to everyone: the Vetyr Shipping Alliance had won.

    With several worlds under occupation, and lacking the capacity to fight on, the Citizen Confederation of Adarnir had to seek terms. The Vetyr, continuing to maintain the fiction that this was an anti-piracy operation, would install corporate councils on the occupied worlds. Collectively, these councils would form the Fevarian Bonded Merchants. This new state would soon form close ties with the Vetyr.

    IKRXK4r.jpeg


    While the Fevarian Bonded Merchants was on paper an independent polity, it was de facto a client state of the Vetyr Shipping Alliance. Or as some would say, a subsidiary.​

    The Citizen Confederation of Adarnir maintained that this was an illegal occupation of their sovereign territory, but lacking the military means to challenge it, they were forced to grit their teeth and bear it. While the shooting had stopped, few expected the issue to be permanently settled.

    As the conflict between the Versum and the Adarnir cooled down, the Galactic Community Committee on Interstellar Trade presented its proposal for rules, rights and regulations pertaining to merchant shipping. Most of the suggestions were uncontroversial, like the signatory states designating trade lanes that would be regularly patrolled and inspection protocols. All ships were also required to submit cargo manifests on system entry, and the system’s owner could turn the ship away if it was carrying goods it deemed illegal. Any ship carrying goods not declared could be seized by the authorities.

    It was hoped that these rules would avoid a repeat of the Piracy War[1]. However, the proposal did bring up new issues.

    The committee also proposed a “market hub” of sorts to help coordinate the buying and selling of various goods. While most of the work would be done in various exchanges scattered across the galaxy, a central hub was needed to facilitate this work. Whichever state controlled this hub would gain a marked advantage in buying and selling their goods. Naturally, both the Versum Shipping Alliance and the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association were keen on obtaining this advantage. However, both parties had made enough enemies that getting support for their proposal would be difficult.

    The corpo states were not the only ones who desired this trade advantage, and across the galaxy, various governments were drafting up their proposals. Humanity was no different. The Confederacy’s initial proposal suggested Earth as the location for the market hub. This proposal was dead on arrival. Despite what many people would like to believe, Earth was nothing special. The trade volume was limited and while the Sol system was in a somewhat ideal position, it was not enough to tip the scale. There was, however, another, more ideal candidate.

    During the days of the Lavis Republic, the Ring had been the centre of a significant internal trade network designed to help the Republic overcome the difficulty of their autarkic policies. Much of this was shattered in the war, but the remnants were later restored by Human, and alien, corporations seeking to turn a profit. With the Ring Garden eager to encourage foreign investment, the Ring had rapidly grown to be the central manufacturing and trading hub in Confederate space.

    Because of this, the Minister for Ring Affairs, Marie-Paule Leavitt, suggested that the Confederacy should promote the Ring as Humanity’s market hub candidate.

    The response from the xenophobic and Human supremacist portions of the Confederation Assembly was immediate, with prominent members of the Assembly calling Leavitt a traitor and a “weed lover”. These public condemnations only calmed down when Flynn Webb, another Assemblymember, was taken into custody for making death threats. While he would later be released, he was issued a stern rebuke from the Assembly President. Meanwhile, Minister Leavitt would have a strengthened security detail for the coming years.

    This very public dispute around the proposal travelled abroad, and a few weeks after the initial suggestion, Chancellor Dudás was contacted by Ambassador Vezem of the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association. He had a very simple proposal: if Humanity would propose the Ring as a site for the market hub, the WBTA would support the bid.

    Their reasoning was simple enough. While they would prefer it if the WBTA won the bid, it was not likely. And if they didn’t win it, it was likely that the winner would be someone hostile to them. The Suramo, like Humanity, had invested a lot of resources into the Ring, and relations between them and the Sol Confederacy were amicable. So the Ring being chosen as the site for the market hub, while not ideal, was the next best thing.

    This complicated the discussions on Earth. One argument that the Human Supremacist faction had leveraged was that suggesting the Ring was unlikely to win the bid, but the proposal could embolden the Lilarobius. They had already been moving off the Ring and any further “concessions” could easily lead to the reemergence of the Lavis Republic.

    While the argument had significant logical flaws, it was indicative of how many saw the Ring and its inhabitants. Feelings dominated the discussion far more than facts. That many of the representatives to the Assembly had in some way served during the Lavis Wars only added fuel to the fire.

    However, the fearmonger had one opponent they struggled to beat: greed. When news of the WBTA backing the Ring bid, corporations that had invested heavily in the Ring practically salivated. Within days, several corporations got together to form the “Economical Council for the Development of the Ring”, a lobbyist group dedicated to promoting their interests on the Ring.

    The ECDR went into action, wining and dining both proponents and opponents of the Ring bid. Slowly, the narrative shifted from the threat of unshackled Lilarobius, to the economic benefits for the common man. While the proposal was never uncontroversial, it was able to move ahead.

    When the proposal was submitted to the Galactic Council, it was met with immediate suspicion. The only other proposal that had the backing of more than one state was the Versum Shipping Alliance, whose bid was also supported by the Fevarian Bonded Merchants. That a client state backed their patron was no surprise. That the WBTA backed the Ring bid was.

    While many (if not most) viewed the proposal with a mixture of scepticism and suspicion, there were few other good candidates. Most member states had suggested one of their own worlds, usually their capital. While some of these worlds were significant economic centres, few were remarkable.

    At this point, it seemed like the discussions would descend into petty bickering. Fortunately for Humanity, it instead escalated to sabre rattling. The Versum tried to force a vote for their proposal, but the Citizen Confederation of Adarnir, still furious about the war and boiling over with revanchism, threatened war[2]. As the talks began breaking down, Human representatives were able to present themselves as a calm and neutral party. This was helped by most of the galactic powers not having a lot of history with the Sol Confederacy. Most were familiar with the Lavis Wars, but Humanity’s response to attempted genocide was seen as restrained.

    After long talks, Humanity was able to get enough support for their proposal. The only real opposition came from the Versum Shipping Alliance, the Beldross Hive and the Versum Divine Empire. The latter two backed the Versum bid mostly due to seeing the Confederacy as a threat.

    At the end of the proceedings, Chairman Sows the Fields of the Vetyr Shipping Alliance held a speech stating that “With this pen stroke, the galaxy has taken a step towards unity and peace. It is my hope that the galaxy will never again see the shadow of conflict.” The phrase “A step towards unity and peace” would soon enter the cultural lexicon as a deeply ironic saying.

    eBniqeW.jpeg


    Chairman Sows the Fields announcing that the Ring had won the market hub bid. Thanks to the flowery language and ironic circumstances, the speech became the first pan-galactic meme. Even the Beldross got involved, ribbing on Sows the Fields’ poor choice of words. Sows the Fields would at the time describe the speech as one of his best. He would retire in disgrace months later.​

    In early April of 2163, the inevitable happened. After years of tensions, diplomatic mudslinging and inefficient Galactic Council meetings, the hostility between the galactic powers spinwards of Humanity finally boiled over.

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    The war had long been expected, both by Humanity and the parties involved. The only uncertainty was when and how it would begin.​

    In what they claimed to be a response to a slave raid by the Versum Divine Empire, the Hierarchy of Hazi mobilised their fleets and punched into Versum space. This triggered the defensive pact between the Hazi and the Beldross. However, the Hazi maintained that they had been attacked in the aforementioned slave raid[3], thus calling on the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association to join the war. The WBTA agreed, and the War of the Dual Alliances was underway.

    What followed was frantic activity in the Galactic Council as the Vetyr felt they were once again losing control of the situation. An emergency meeting was called, but the belligerent parties spent most of the meeting hurling accusations at the other parties. A second, reduced, meeting was called a few days later. In this meeting, the Vetyr appealed to the Sol Confederacy to intervene in the conflict. Chancellor Dudás refused, citing that Humanity had no stake in this conflict, and would remain neutral[4].

    Despite this, the war would influence Human foreign policy.

    A few months after the outbreak of hostilities, the Beldross Hive announced that they no longer felt bound by the non-aggression pact between the Hive and Humanity.

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    The non-aggression pact, which hailed from the tense years following the First Lavis War, had been a cornerstone in Human defensive planning. While the relationship with the Beldross had soured since then, most experts had expected them to maintain it.​

    This act puzzled military and economic analysts. The conflicts with the Lavis Republic had ballooned Human defensive spending and, even with the reduced rate of ship construction since then, the Confederate fleet outmatched the Beldross. Adding to this, the Beldross economy was nowhere near as strong as Humanity’s, so any extended arms race would only exacerbate this difference. The Beldross reneging on the agreement was thus not in their best interest, especially during a time of war.

    The effect of this was the immediate redeployment of the Confederate Fleet to the Ring. This would allow for a faster response in the event of hostilities, as plans for a war with the Hive relied on speed. In addition, an emergency fleet expansion bill was pushed through the Assembly at breakneck speed. The bill also included measures to improve the defence of Russalka, which was exposed to a potential Beldross attack.

    A few prominent members of the German high command also pushed for a pre-emptive attack on the Beldross. With both their and the Versum fleets occupied in the ongoing war, they argued that Humanity could cripple the Beldross with minimal resistance. The subject was even discussed in a meeting with Chancellor Dudás. It was shot down in the end, but the meeting minutes, declassified decades later, revealed that the main considerations were political in nature. The Chancellor worried about how to justify such an attack to the general public, and to the Galactic Community. Tellingly, the military might of the Beldross Hive was a subject of minimal debate.

    In the end, Humanity adopted a “wait and see” stance to the war. Indeed, the same was true for most of the galactic powers. Only the Vetyr Shipping Alliance were actively working to end the conflict. But after carving a de facto client state out of the Adarnir only a few years earlier, they were viewed as simple hypocrites.

    The Galactic Community had failed in its intended purpose. It would not be the last time.


    [1] - The Piracy War was the name the Vetyr Shipping Alliance and its allies called the conflict. The Adanir and their allies called it the Shipping War.

    [2] - This was an obvious bluff. The Citizen Confederation of Adarnir’s military was still reeling from the losses endured during the war. However, it is not clear if the Versum, unaccustomed to armed conflict, realised this.

    [3] - It is unclear if this specific slave raid happened, but the Versum Divine Empire had a long history of sending raiding parties into foreign space to attack and enslave workers on mining stations.

    [4] - This remained the Sol Confederacy’s official stance throughout the war. However, the Confederacy would share a lot of experiences from the Lavis Wars with the WBTA through back channels.
     
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    A Monument to Our Sins
  • A Monument to Our Sins​

    November 2167 - Tazri Control Station

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    Every system in Confederate space had at least one Traffic Control Station. While serving as “lighthouses” for transiting ships, their main purpose was to maintain a presence in every system that Humanity claimed.

    (Art by Alexander RG House)

    Alois Sondheim rolled out of bed as the alarm chimed. He’d woken up two minutes before and was wide awake. One of the strange side effects of the job’s highly regimented nature, his body was working like it had been replaced with clockwork.

    The shower was just as regimented. A thirty second rinse, followed by soaping up without water and ended with a ninety second shower.

    Some of the larger stations Alois had been stationed on had allowed ten-minute showers. But those had been much larger than Tazri Control Station. During training, some of the cadets had complained about those showers being too short. He chuckled to himself, wondering how they were doing now. Tazri was at least an inhabited system. There were far more remote postings.

    After getting dressed he made his way to the mess hall. One of the undeniable advantages of being on the B shift was the high probability of freshly baked bread. Today was not just one of those days, but Anderson had brought a couple of tomatoes from hydroponics as well.

    The lack of fresh food had been one of those things that Alois hadn’t thought about when he signed up, but after two years on Tazri station, he was never going to take that for granted again.

    Sitting down next to Anderson, he grabbed a slice of both bread and tomato.
    “How are we doing today?”
    “There is a 0.02% loss of water pressure in the main recycler,” Anderson said with the grim stoicism he applied to anything that wasn’t perfectly optimised. “There must be a leak. The Commander wants us to find it ASAP.”

    On a larger station, a water loss like that typically meant shenanigans. Someone running a still tucked away in a bulkhead or an illegal shower. But that was unlikely on Tanzri. While Nzau’s proximity meant that help was just a few days away, Commander Lehmann ran an incredibly tight ship. His last posting had been on the Pithria observation station, a posting where help was months away and where the slightest issue could kill them all. And he had brought those habits along with him to Tazri.

    Alois let his attention wander back to the fresh bread with tomatoes as Anderson listed off his top five candidates for the leak’s cause. It wasn’t his problem, and help would be there before they all died of dehydration.

    Finishing breakfast, he walked over to one of the lifts, riding it to the central command structure. As he did, he gradually left the spin gravity of the cylinder. Arriving, he floated gently to the opposite wall before launching himself to the traffic control centre. Inside he found Heidegger and Gomez still in their seats.

    “Morning,” he said. “There are tomatoes in the mess.”
    “Nice,” Heidegger said as he undid his straps and floated out of his seat.
    “Anything worth mentioning?”
    “Still no sign of the Ember Celica. She might be running late, but I wouldn’t be worried for another few days. Other than that, Gomez saw something weird on the scanner.”

    Alois slipped into the seat and strapped in. Turning to Gomez, he gave an inquisitive glance.
    “There were some strange LIDAR blips near the hyperlane point to the Lane system. I was hoping Cáo could have a look at it.” Gomez glanced at the clock. “Speaking of which…”

    Alois’ hand hovered over the comms unit. “Want me?”
    Gomez glanced at the clock again, slowly ticking into the B shift. “Let’s give her 60 seconds.”

    Cáo hurtled into the traffic control centre with 17 seconds to go.
    “Sorry I’m late!”
    Her jacket wasn’t buttoned, her hair was a tangled mess and Alois was pretty sure it was dried drool staining her cheek.
    “Sorry. Sorry. I just–”
    “Overslept,” they all said in unison.

    If the people working on frontier stations were organised, punctual and orderly people, at times bordering on being clockwork, Cáo Yazhu was the exception that underlined the rule. Undisciplined, unpunctual and disorganised, but a genius at signal analysis. That was probably the only reason Commander Lehmann hadn’t kicked her off the station yet.

    As Gomez slid out of his seat, he briefed Cáo on the LIDAR blips from earlier. Alois, meanwhile, ran down the system traffic. There wasn’t too much going on in the Tazri system. Fourty or so small craft buzzing about the system, and another dozen or so freighters moving to and from the colony. Considering the high pay and rigorous selection process, there wasn’t a lot of work for Alois to actually do.

    They soon settled into their usual work rhythm, with Cáo passing updated vectors on pretty much everything she could see in the system, man-made or otherwise, and Alois calculating dozens of potential solutions to whatever worst-case scenarios they could come up with. Most of them would never be used, but should the need arise, they had the solution before the crew of the ship in question realised they had a problem.

    They were almost four hours into their shift when Cáo let out a simple “Huh…”
    He didn’t respond. He knew her well enough to not bother. If she had found something interesting, she probably wouldn’t hear him.

    Another few minutes passed before she spoke again. “Are we expecting anything from the Lane system?”
    It was an odd request. The Lane system was outside Human space, and Alois had never seen a ship enter or leave it. But he dutifully pulled up his traffic chart and scanned it.
    “No, nothing planned. What’s going on?”
    “I’m getting several hyperlane pulses. Like, lots. Something just entered the system. Retasking LIDAR #2.”

    As she did, Alois pointed the telescope the same way. It would be more than an hour before the light reached them, and the LIDAR would take double that. Maybe the telescope would give them some idea of what was going on before then.

    The minutes ticked by, with Cáo tapping away at her console. Alois checked the work schedule. Commander Lehmann was sleeping. There was no need to wake him up without anything concrete.

    When the images from the telescope finally resolved, they were a blurry, distorted mess. There was clearly something there, but exactly what was hard to say. So he spent a good while trying to clean up the image. He didn’t get much, but whatever it was, it was artificial in nature and accelerating at a decent pace. His hand reached for the intercom. The time for waking the Commander had come. He pressed the buzzer for his quarters.

    “Holy shit!” Cáo said, quickly followed by “Oh, God…”
    “What?! What is it?”
    “I’m… I’m reading 60-plus warships. Large ones. Larger than I’ve ever seen. And their acceleration… That speed would rip apart one of our ships.”
    “What do you mean? Warships? Where would they come from? The only thing that way is…” The realisation hit him like a sack of bricks.

    “The Rixi,” Cáo said what they were both thinking.

    Alois glanced back at the images from the telescope. He realised that the distortion was from the shielding, except it was much stronger than anything he’d ever seen on a Human ship. Beyond that, their overall shape was strange, unlike anything he’d ever seen. The Rixi were the only ones that made sense.

    He checked the intercom. There was no response from the Commander. He was a heavy sleeper. Hesitating just a second, he flipped the switch to emergency broadcast.
    “Commander, report to Traffic Control. I repeat, Commander, report to Traffic Control. A large alien fleet has entered the system. Believed to be Rixi in nature. All hands, secure station.” He heard himself echo throughout the hallways, then added “This is not a drill.”

    He’d been a kid when the Second Lavis broke out. He remembered the Siege of Eissam Station, and the 237 aboard who gave their lives in a final stand. People called them heroes. Alois had seen some of the messages the station’s crew had sent back home before their deaths. Few looked like heroes.

    Right now, Alois was feeling a certain kinship.

    Commander Lehmann came sailing into the room in his underwear, his trousers held in his hand.
    “What are we dealing with?” he asked as he began putting them on.
    “Sir, we detected several hyperlane pulses from the Lane system,” Cáo said. “LIDAR and optical observations show that they are ships of unknown origin. Their acceleration suggests they will reach us within four days.”
    “Any idea of when we will be within weapons range? No, scratch that. Shots may already be heading our way. Sondheim!”
    “Yes, Sir!” Alois said.
    “Crisis Protocol White. Send as much data as possible to the comm buoy. Keep the jump delay short, less than fifteen minutes. We need to get as much info as possible back home.”
    “Understood, Sir!”
    “And get me a priority line to the Governor. We need to get as many people off Nzau.”
    “Sir,” Cáo said. “With their acceleration, there is no way anyone will be able to outrun them.”
    “I know,” Lehmann said. “But I’ll be damned if I won’t at least try.”

    Alois set up the channel for the Commander, then turned back to his console and began compiling the data for a message home. For a brief moment, he considered including a personal message to his parents, but rejected it. People would make their own stories no matter what he said.

    The package sent, he looked up to find Cáo and the Commander pouring over the LIDAR returns while talking to the colony. He scanned his displays to see if there was anything more he could do. There wasn’t. But there was one line on his display that was very ordinary, but also very strange.

    “Sir, I’ve got an incoming message from the Rixi fleet.”

    Commander Lehmann and Cáo both got very quiet and stared at Alois, then at his screen. Floating over, he fixated on the line showing the incoming message.
    “Play it.”

    “Good day,” a voice said in perfect Standarddeutsch. For a brief moment, Alois wondered if there was some sort of mistake and he’d played the wrong message. But the voice continued. “This is Fleet Admiral Brown Plume, commander of the Rixi Chronicler’s Second Expeditionary Force. My cultural intelligence service has informed me that it is standard practice in Human systems to contact the system’s traffic control station upon entering a system. Is this correct?”

    Lehmann waited for a moment, then pushed talk on his headset.
    “Fleet Admiral Brown Plume, this is Walther Lehmann, Commander of Tazri Control Station. Your information is correct. We aid ships in transitioning the system and work to avoid any accidents.” He swallowed. “May I… uh… inquire as to the reason you are moving through Confederate space?”

    The message was sent, though light lag meant it would take almost two hours before any response reached them. Nobody said anything as the minutes ticked by.

    “We are on an expedition to open a second front against the Sildor Blessed Union. It is a fool’s errand. The Sildor will fall before we even come close to their borders. But such are my orders, and I am duty-bound to follow them.”

    “The Rixi are at war with the Sildor?” Cáo asked.
    “The Rixi can be at war with half the galaxy as long as it’s not us,” Alois replied.

    Commander Lehmann took a deep breath. “I understand. We will give you priority transition. And also send a message that you are coming. In order to avoid any… misunderstandings”

    After the reply was sent, time once again ticked by in silence. The Rixi fleet had in a few hours moved a distance that would take a couple of days for the Confederate Fleet.

    “That would be ideal,” the reply came. “Thank you, Commander Lehmann. Fleet Admiral Brown Plume out.”

    Lehmann let out a deep breath, then turned to grab Alois.
    “Plot a priority course for the Rixi fleet. And send a message that the Rixi are coming. Tell them not to do anything stupid. For God’s sake, tell them to hold fire.”

    “Yes, Sir,” was all Alois could say.

    * * *​

    While the outbreak of war in Humanity’s backyard was politically concerning, the immediate effects were limited. The vast distances involved, even with hyperlane travel, meant that months would go by without ships engaging each other. Most engagements involved a fleet firing a few warning shots at a system’s traffic control station before boarding it. Once in control, freighters carrying ore from the various mining stations would be redirected according to the invader's whim. Thus, an undefended system would see little actual change beyond a disruption to resupply[1].

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    Unlike Humanity’s wars with the Lilarobus, the War of the Dual alliances was fought on several fronts and across vast distances. For the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association, this proved a benefit. While the Association claimed a vast number of systems, most of the Suramo population lived in a handful of populated systems clustered around their core. This gave them tremendous strategic depth, allowing them to pick most of their fights.​

    As a result, the war quickly faded into the background for most people. Both sides made extensive use of propaganda, turning minor engagements into massive fleet battles that would end the war. Most within the Confederacy ignored it or turned to analysts from organisations like the Raumstreitkräfte.

    Those organisations had one of two conclusions: “We don’t know” and “War of Attrition”. From what little could be gleaned, neither side could marshall all their forces in one location, leading to several inconclusive battles where both sides lost a few ships and the surviving ships had to pull back for repair, a situation mirroring the First Lavis War.

    The constant low-level stream of news from the frontlines did influence politics. While getting funding for naval expansion had never been difficult following Humanity’s wars with the Lavis Republic, it had been focused on what was proven to work. With interstellar war on Humanity’s doorstep, the Military-Industrial complex began thinking big. And people listened.

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    While there had been a push for making warships larger since the days of the first corvettes, there were practical limitations to just building a bigger ship. The chief limiting factor being the life-support. Early destroyers had strained their life-support systems to their limits by doubling the crew requirements compared to corvettes. In contrast, most cruisers had five to six times the crew requirements of destroyers. Keeping this many people alive had required some technical innovations.​

    There were two schools of thought as to how to approach the design of the next generation of warship. The first was a continuation of sea-based aircraft carrier design, with the ship carrying a number of smaller fighter craft that would support existing naval operations.

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    The Danube class, while ostensibly a carrier, still carried more conventional armaments for defence. The idea was that the carrier could still support the attack wing with conventional weapons. Naval historians were quick to make comparisons to early carriers that also carried guns.​

    The second school of thought harkened back to the days of the Weltkrieg and the Battle of Jutland. It argued that carriers had replaced battleships due to range. Gravity and air resistance had limited the range of a ship’s guns, while the weather and curvature of the Earth had limited visibility. None of these were a factor in space, and engagement ranges could be across a system with enough time and computation power.

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    The Anyi Machen focused on a few, larger guns. During trials in the Sol system, the cruisers, in Earth orbit, managed to hit and destroy practice targets placed in Mars orbit. While not a realistic test from a military standpoint, it proved the underlying theory.​

    In the end, four cruisers would be built, two of each design. Germany and the Danubian Federation built the carriers Danube and Rhein. Meanwhile, China and Russia built the Anyi Machen and the Belukha[2]. These new ships would be heralded as a cornerstone in the defence of Humanity. But the Confederacy would soon learn how inadequate they would be should Humanity find itself fighting the wrong enemy.

    On the 11th of November, 2167, the Tazri system’s traffic control station detected a hyperspace anomaly coming from the Lane system. This anomaly turned out to be a Rixi war fleet. While it was quickly determined the fleet harboured hostile intent towards Humanity, it demonstrated just how outmatched Humanity would be in a fight.

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    The transiting Rixi ships were unlike anything Humanity had seen so far. Their design defied many common conventions when it came to spaceship construction. What was most concerning to military analysts was the fact that they could not identify any weapons. They were sure the ships possessed them, they were warships after all, but what they were or how they worked was a mystery.​

    The Rixi fleet’s presence did bring up the question of what its goal was, and Admiral Brown Plume was quick to share. The Rixi were in a state of war with the Sildor Blessed Unions, and he was tasked with opening a second front. When asked why the Rixi and the Sildor were at war, he replied that “The fanatics must be put in their place.”

    This caused quite a stir among Confederate leadership, as the war had apparently been ongoing for several months. The Sildor, however, had made no mention of it in the Galactic Council. When asked about this, the Sidor representative, Volor Shranman, got quite heated, stating that “There is no war between the Sildor Blessed Union and the Rixi Chroniclers'', that “the Sildor - Rixi relationship is better than ever”, before rounding off by stating that Humanity bringing up this supposed war was “just another attempt by the godless species of the galaxy to cloud the vision of the faithful”.

    Despite the claims of the Sildor, few believed them, especially as Humanity had audio recordings of Admiral Brown Plume. The actual cause of the war, however, remained a mystery as neither side was willing to divulge further details.

    Unlike with the War of the Dual Alliances, no Galactic Council member state made any effort to organise peace talks. Whether this was due to the member species being preoccupied with the ongoing war, or if it was due to the perceived power of the Rixi Chroniclers, is a matter of some debate. In the end, it mattered little, as the conflict lasted only nine months, a lightning-fast war by the standards of interstellar conflict. What terms the Rixi and the Sildor settled on were also unclear[3], but no change in territory occurred.

    What did change was the Sildor’s foreign policy. Almost immediately after the war, they issued numerous condemnations of the Sol Confederacy and Humanity as a whole.

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    While some pointed to Humanity allowing the Rixi to move their fleets through Confederate space, or revealing the war in the Galactic Council, most blamed the shift in foreign policy on domestic needs. After losing the war, the ruling Reverend Elder, Renvan Vis, had to shore up the ruling council’s legitimacy, and a foreign enemy was an easy way of achieving this.​

    This posturing was of little concern back on Earth. The Sildor were far away and, more importantly, were unlikely to have much of a fleet left following their war with the Rixi. So the Confederacy fell back into that most familiar of peacetime activities: internal bickering.

    Thanks to aggressive border expansion by the Aifu Remnant, Humanity’s access to what became known as the “Rim Pocket” was cut off. The Aifu were also clear that they would not allow any Human ships to pass through their space to the pocket (though they would allow ships already in the pocket to return home).

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    The Aifu - Human border and the Rim Pocket. Spectral and gravitational analysis suggested that the Pocket contained several planets capable of sustaining life. As such, it became a race between the Aifu, the Connisthians and Humanity as to who could gain control of the pocket. Thanks to taking the Regis system, the Aifu had locked Humanity out of that race.​

    With peaceful expansion locked off, it was clear to everyone that the days of easy colonial expansion were, at least for the time being, coming to an end. Ynessa III and Tunobo II would be the last of the virgin worlds. Naturally, the number of nations submitting colonial proposals to the Assembly was through the roof. But despite the Assembly having clear guidelines for the granting colonial charters, realpolitik was very much still in play. The Great Powers had (on paper) given up significant power with the establishment of the Confederation of Sol. But behind closed doors, they still wielded a great deal of power. And with no new colonies on the horizon, old alliances made themselves known once again.

    In private meetings, the Russian President, Marianna Artemyeva, and the Chinese Prime Minister, Fan Xiuying, made their opinion clear. In their view, Russia and China had been short-changed by the agreements made following the Lavis Wars. None of Russia’s close allies had gotten their colonial charters approved, while China’s only colony, Chang´e, was a small moon that was rapidly running out of space. Meanwhile, Germany had grabbed two worlds early on, while Canada’s colony, Albion, had been transformed into a paradise. Both nations’ allies had also been granted several charters.

    The Russian demand was met without too much issue. The Nordic Federation already had a solid colonial proposition for Ynessa III, dubbed Ægir. The Russian Republic’s colonisation of Russalka had in large part been possible due to Nordic marine engineering. With decades of experience in the field, the Federation had little trouble getting Assembly approval.

    The Chinese demand was more difficult. While most agreed that the Chinese had gotten the worst deal of all the Great Powers, few were sure if trying to rectify the issue was a good idea. This was especially true for the nations that had no colonial projects of their own. If Fan Xiuying got their wish and joined Germany in the two-colonies club, Russia and Canada would no doubt demand the same. And with few new worlds on the horizon, this would end the colonial ambitions of several nations.

    There was, however, one more complication. There was a third colony available. One that nobody really wanted.

    Global warming had caused massive destruction to the environment of Earth in the decades leading up to the discovery of the Hyperlane network. While Humanity had suffered greatly, the real victims were the planet’s biodiversity. And while geo-engineering and other technologies had gotten the weather and heat under control, there was little that could be done to the loss of countless species. While often forgotten during the years of the Lavis Wars, it was something that hung heavy in the hearts of most people at the time.

    When the Kværner - Sistema corporation, which had been instrumental in the colonisation of Russalka, approached Confederate leadership about terraforming Samnivik II, it was understood that the planet did not support life. The surface temperature was high enough to boil water, a substance that was not very common groundside. While the planet was listed as habitable, this was more down to having an atmosphere that was not instant death to Humans. Most exploration of the planet was done using remotely operated drones.

    With this in mind, the Confederate Assembly had little issue with approving Kværner’s proposal. The project would serve as a pilot for the viability of terraforming worlds that were otherwise unviable for Human habitation. With the lucrative contract in hand, Kværner went to work.

    The project had taken a decade, which, given the scale of the endeavour, had been remarkably quick. Kværner had worked to make the planet as Earth-like as possible, and many nations had proposals waiting for the project to be declared a success. However, with just months to go before the Assembly were to discuss the colonisation of Samnivik II, a security breach of Kværner’s internal networks led to thousands of documents being leaked[4].

    The documents did not paint a pretty picture. Early on in the project, Kværner surveyors had discovered that the planet possessed a unique biosphere deep in the sand and in cave systems that lay beneath the dunes. But these reports had been suppressed by Kværner’s board, who feared that they would lose the terraforming contract. The project continued, and the biosphere of Samnivik II drowned over a decade.

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    On the surface, Samnivik II was the ideal world, having been explicitly modelled on Earth. Most of the new biosphere had been transplanted from Earth, with some minor genetic engineering to account for factors that couldn’t be addressed by the terraforming process.​

    Kværner’s leadership was arrested and their offices raided, though there was some confusion about what crimes they could be charged with and whose jurisdiction applied[5]. However, the damage was already done. Nothing could be done to restore Samnivik II, and Humanity had to decide on what to do next. Some argued that the planet should be left alone, to serve as a kind of memorial to Humanity’s sins. While this was an emotionally resonant argument, it was unacceptable from an economic one. The planet had to be used. The issue was by whom.

    So the offer was given to Fan Xiuying. China would have their second world. In return, a Chinese-aligned nation would take Samnivik II. After this, China and its allies would not make any colonial requests until the colonial game had been “equalised”. This effectively meant the end of future Chinese colonial projects.

    This deal also meant that Samnivik II was going to the Philippines. This added to the problems, as the Philippines had been one of the nations hardest hit by climate change, and were thus especially angry about what had happened.

    After weeks of closed-door negotiations, the Chinese and Philippine governments agreed to the deal, and China would have a second colony, Yutu. Presenting the agreement to the Filipino public, however, did not go as well. The Filipino government tried to spin it by naming the world Perlas sa Langit, the Pearl in the Sky. It never caught on. Instead, the colonists gave it a different name: Bangkay, the corpse world.

    For many on Earth, it was the end of an era. The easily exploitable virgin worlds of the galaxy had been claimed, and now only scraps remained for those who had not gotten their fill. However, even as the first ships departed for the corpse world, another lush colony world appeared on the horizon. All Humanity would have to do was take it.

    By force if necessary.



    [1] With the exception of the Versum Divine Empire. When the Versum took a system they would enslave all the workers and ship them off to the core worlds, while the stations would be manned by Celimy slaves shipped in. Few enslaved workers would ever return from Versum captivity.

    [2] The Canadian Republic's first cruiser was delayed due to internal disagreement as to which design to follow. In Parliament, Canadian Prime Minister Simon Harkness would argue that the government was instead funnelling the money into construction on Albion, downplaying tensions and stating that the security situation did not warrant more ships. Canada would begin construction of its first cruiser, the McKinley, an Anyi Machen class, three years later.

    [3] It can be inferred that the peace treaty included some sort of transit agreement, as Sildor ships began approaching Human systems by transitioning through Rixi-controlled space. They would later push their luck by claiming a handful of systems on the “Human side” of Rixi.

    [4] The leak is widely understood to have been an inside job, but nobody ever stepped forward, despite government assurances of immunity from prosecution. The only clue to the identity of the leaker(s) is a single text file with the phrase “We all bear some responsibility.”

    [5] In the end, the Kværner’s board would be tried for environmental destruction and fraud. As the planet had not yet a legal owner, the Confederacy itself was deemed to have jurisdiction. In the end, the case set a precedent regarding the Confederation’s legal authority in areas not under the sovereign rule of a member nation.
     
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    The Search for a Just War
  • The Search for a Just War​

    November 2175 - High Refuge Station - Coordinator Meeting Room 6

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    High Refuge Station was one of several orbital stations that housed the Aifu species. While the Aifu had begun to colonise terrestrial worlds (thanks to improvements in technology allowing them to offset the risks to their immune system), the majority of Aifu still lived their entire lives in space.

    Art by Tobias Frank

    The doors slid open and the group trundled into the conference room. Even in micro-gravity, the stasis tanks were cumbersome to manoeuvre. Cenran Renqan had often studied how his ancestors had moved with such ease and freedom, not bound by the tanks. Their prison. It always filled him with envy. Envy and hatred. The aliens had taken so much from Cenran. From all of them. And now they demanded more.

    Finally, all the stasis tanks were arranged in a semi-circle and the meeting could begin.
    “Delegates, thank you for setting time aside. I know you all have much to do.”
    “I think we can all agree that another xeno threat demands attention,” Delegate for Orbital Installations Quernan said.
    “Are we sure the threat is credible,” Delegate Kreqin asked.
    “We have to assume it is. We already have one xeno race violating our borders. We can ill afford to–”

    “Delegates,” Cenran said, interrupting Quernan. “I understand there are many who are worried about a potential second front, and to answer Delegate Kreqin, yes I believe the threat is credible. However, I suggest we start at the beginning. I know many of you have read the briefings with the utmost of care, but likewise, many of you have been occupied with the ongoing war.”

    There was a round of quiet, accenting murmurs, and Cenran took the lead. He started the stasis tank’s interface system, and sent a video to the screen opposite him.
    “Two days ago, the Foreign Affairs minister of the Human Confederation made a speech to the Galactic Council. I won’t bore you with all the xeno platitudes and justifications. You can review those at your leisure, should you want to. This is the bit that is of importance.”

    The screen came alive, showing an image of a Human sitting behind a desk. Like all Humans, it was disgusting. A weird, malformed creature that moved in ways that didn’t seem right. Adding to the effect was the uncanny resemblance to the hated Sildor. Cenran didn’t really see the difference, but those who studied the xeno told him that they were there. It was the ears, they said.

    “Minister Bassani, are you suggesting that the Aifu Remnant should give you control of several systems, just because you ask for them?” The speaker was the current Chair of the Galactic Council, a Versum politician named Gentho. Cenran had removed the video feed of Gentho. While Humans were disgusting and uncanny, they were nothing compared to the mass of tentacles that were the Celimy.

    “Not quite, honoured Chair,” the Human said. “We do not ask for a transfer of territory for our own sake. We merely want to protect the Queptilium from Connisthian imperialism. The ongoing war has called into question the Aifu Remnant’s ability to defend this primitive species. Furthermore, they are blocking our ships from entering the Rim Pocket. As such, our only recourse is to ask for a transfer of these systems.”

    It was an obvious lie. Everyone knew that the Humans wanted Ipiescilia II. The Queptilium were just a convenient excuse. Nobody fell for it. Except maybe the naive (and treacherous) Pithok.

    “I see,” the Celimy said. “Delegate Renqan, what do you have to say to these claims?”
    The video changed to show Cenran in his stasis tank. His aides had tried to make his tank presentable, but Cenran considered it a fool’s errand. Most of the xeno races regarded the Aifu as especially unpleasant looking. Cenran wondered what his species had done to deserve this.

    “Chair Gentho.” Cenran could not bring himself to calling the xeno ‘honoured’. “This is just another attempt by forces hostile to the Remnant to tear away systems that are legally ours. Unlike the Connisthian’s, the Humans wrap their naked greed in fancy rhetorics. But we see them as they are. We will not cede our lands and compromise our security.”

    “I understand,” Chair Gentho said. “Minister Bassani, it seems the Aifu Remnant rejects your demands.”
    “That is understandable, especially given the ongoing war. We do not expect them to just cede territory without compensation.”
    “Delegate Renqan, your response?”

    “There is nothing the Humans can give us that would make compromising our security worth it.”
    “There are different ways of compromising one’s security,” the Human muttered.
    “What was that?” the Chair asked.
    “Nothing. Please strike it from the record.”

    Cenran shut down the video. “The Human Expeditionary Fleet has already left its dock around the Human homeworld. There has not been any official statement as to its intention, however, there has been no attempt to hide its departure either.”
    “They mean to attack,” Quernan said. “Force us into a two-front war.”
    “If so, they are foolish,” Delegate for Military Affairs Ventryn said. “It will take them years to reach us. We will have plenty of time to prepare.”

    “Delegates,” Cenran said. “I believe Quernan and Ventryn are both correct, in their own way. It is my belief that they Human don’t want a war. They are not the Connisthians. If they can get what they desire without war, they will gladly accept this.”
    “So you say we should just give away our territory to the xeno?” Ventryn said. “Avoid bloodshed? And what happens the next time the Sildor come knocking? Another free handout.”

    “Delegate, please. I am in no way suggesting we bow to the alien threat. I think I made my stance clear in the Galactic Council. No, my point is that the Humans are not the Connisthians. Their populace do not crave war as a chance to prove themselves. They will endure conflict, but only if it is a just one.”

    “The Queptilium,” Kreqin said.
    “Precisely. This theatre in the Galactic Council is not for us. It is not for the other xeno species. And more importantly, it is for their own populace.”

    The room was quiet. Quiet enough to hear the gentle whirring and bubbling of the other tanks.
    “So how do we proceed?” Delegate for Colonisation Ansen asked.
    “We must prepare for war,” Ventryn said.
    “We are already at war,” Quernan said.

    A murmur went around the table. Both sides were losing ships. But the Connisthians were far more willing to accept those losses. It would take years for the Humans to be in a position to invade and nobody could tell what state their military would be in when they arrived. Cenran was already losing sleep over it, and he feared there would be many a sleepless night ahead.

    “Delegate Ventryn is of course right. We must prepare for war,” Cenran said. “Delegate Ventryn, considering what we know for a fact, how would you rate the Human military.”
    Ventryn took a deep sip of stasis fluid. Cenran knew it was bad.

    “Leaving out some of the more advanced xeno civilisations, the Directorate of Military Affairs considers the Human Confederacy to be one of, if not the premier military force in the region. They fought two wars with the gas-bags, and while they won both, the experience left them scarred. As such, they’ve invested heavily in their fleets. They feared having to fight both the Beldross and the Versum at the same time, and invested accordingly. And then the War of the Dual Alliances decimated the fleets of their rivals…”

    “Are you saying we have no chance?” Quernan asked.
    “They have so far only dispatched their Expeditionary Fleet. The main fleet is near their capital. In a one-on-one fight, we should be able to face them.” He left the critical point unsaid.

    “So how do we proceed?” Ansen asked.
    “I’m afraid our options are limited,” Cenran said. “Our best weapon is public opinion. The Human Confederacy is somewhat responsive to the whims of their population. As I see it, there are two paths: we can claim that this war is unjust–”
    “It is,” Ventryn interrupted.
    “-- and we can claim that it will be costly for them. I believe we should pursue both. If we can make the Connisthians bleed, then maybe the Humans will pause.”

    Everyone looked to Ventryn. The previous uneasy body language was gone.
    “Bleeding Connisthians is something I can do.”

    “Meanwhile, I will continue to argue our case that this Human request for a ‘transfer of territory’ is nothing more than another territorial grab. I do not expect much. The gas-bags are whispering lies in the Humans’ ears.”

    “It’s been millennia, and they still want us dead,” Quernan said.
    “Some things never change,” Ventryn said. “Not until one side is gone.”

    “Delegates, I know this is a time of crisis. We face enemies in every direction. But it is my belief that we will weather this storm, as well as every other storm that comes our way. We have survived harsher times, and we will keep surviving.”

    A round of “Hear, hear” went around the table. There was even a hint of optimism. Cenran hoped he was correct. For all their sakes.


    * * *​

    The 2170s began with an attempted shakeup of the Galactic Council by the Vetyr Shipping Alliance. Early in the year, the corporation sponsored two new members for Council membership: the Opalglec Systems, and the Fevarian Bonded Merchants.

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    The Opalglec were a species that the Pithok had uplifted from a pre-spacefaring state. While they had been “enlightened” into adopting the corporate structure of the Vetyr Shipping Alliance, the Opalglec were far more aggressive in their methods.​

    The Opalglec were newcomers to the galactic stage and welcomed as such. With only a single system in the middle of Vetyr territory, they were mostly viewed as a geopolitical curiosity.

    The admittance of the Fevarian Bonded Merchants, however, was far more controversial. Several stellar nations did not recognize the FBM, especially the Citizen Confederation of Adanir, who considered the FBM to be illegally occupied territory.

    There was a pervasive understanding that the Vetyr were trying to stack the Galactic Council votes in their favour by introducing various client states. This caused something of a rift as to how the Council should operate.

    According to the charter, any stellar nation that desired membership could have it. However, the Galactic Council had been founded at a time when most galactic powers were at least nominally equal. As a result, the voting system had been a simple one member, one vote affair. With the geo-political landscape of the galaxy changing, that rule was open to abuse.

    The Hierarchy of Hazi were the first to seize upon this new reality, sponsoring the membership of the Glost-Werheni Republic. Much like the Opalglec, the Glost-Werheni were a primitive civilisation that had been uplifted by the Hazar. However, the Glost-Werheni did not appreciate their “enlightenment” as much, adopting an isolationist foreign policy and keeping to themselves in the search of spiritual enlightenment. As such, they had been left alone, until their suzerain saw a geopolitical opportunity.

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    The Glost-Werheni did not enjoy good relations with the patron. Glost-Werheni isolationism, combined with the Hazi being openly dismissive towards their religion, did not create good neighbours.​

    With the entry of three new stellar nations to the Galactic Council, it was clear that the Council’s voting system was already in need of reform. Exactly what form this would take, was a matter of significant debate. Species with large populations wanted a system that favoured this fact, while nations with large economies wanted this reflected in the number of votes.

    The member states agreed to establish a committee to discuss these issues, and in the end, a compromise solution would be established. However, for the entire existence of the Galactic Council, its members would push and pull which factors mattered most in their favour.

    In mid 2171, the Galactic Council received some unexpected good news. Following months of low-level diplomatic negotiations, the Suramo, Beldross, Hazar and Celimy announced the Treaty of Zerak[1], ending hostilities. The War of the Dual Alliances was over, after more than 8 years of fighting.

    The terms of the Treaty of Zerak bordered on status quo ante bellum. Two systems traded hands, both of them unpopulated frontier systems. Beyond this, there were no war reparations of any kind, and only POWs were returned home. Those enslaved by the Celimy would remain so.

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    Even galactic cartographers struggled to place the Grekil and Joinum systems. The Grekil system was of some significance, as its controller would hold the junction between the Beldross Hive, the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association and the Hierarchy of Hazi.​

    The end of the war was a surprise to most people. Military analysts, however, had been expecting an end to the conflict for a few years. While firm data was hard to get, Confederate contacts in the WBTA made it clear that all parties had exhausted most of their fleets in a costly war of attrition. Confederate estimates put the number of still functional ships at around 20% of their pre-war numbers. The Beldross Hive had been especially hard hit, with estimates of a 90% loss rate being seen as credible.

    The war continued to have an outsized influence on Confederate policy, even after its conclusion. The outbreak of war in Humanity’s backyard had led to a substantial increase in military spending. The goal had been to at least maintain parity with all the participants in the war, hoping that alliances or the vast distances involved could be leveraged in Humanity’s favour. Now, with all four fleets vastly reduced, Humanity found itself the single strongest power in the region[2].

    Following the signing of the Treaty of Zerak, Chairman Guards the Flock, of the Vetyr Shipping Alliance, made a statement to the Galactic Council praising the Byrrieck negotiators for “achieving what violence could never accomplish”.

    Guards the Flock and others who had hoped the treaty would usher in a period of peace would be disappointed. Only four months later, the Connisthian Hegemony’s ships would enter the space of the Aifu Remnant.

    The Connisthian’s did not care to justify themselves. When their fleets entered Aifu space, they proclaimed that they would challenge the Aifu, and seize what felt belonged to them. This was in line with the general understanding of Connisthian society. The Hegemony valued strength of arms above all, and much of their society was defined by low-level skirmishes between various groups for prestige and power. Now that violent energy was being unleashed on an Other.

    The Aifu Remnant responded by marshalling their fleets and condemning the Hegemony in the Galactic Council. However, even compared to the muted response to the War of the Dual Alliances, the Council’s reaction was minimal. The Aifu’s hostile isolationism meant that they had no friends willing to champion their cause. Even the Vetyr Shipping Alliance kept quiet.

    The reason for the Vetyr silence became clear a few months later, when they announced a major diplomatic agreement.

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    The Hegemony - Vetyr trade agreement was significant, removing trade barriers, sharing research and allowing for the free flow of individuals between their nations. While the Vetyr would not ship weapons to the Hegemony, it would supply almost everything else.​

    It was clear that the Vetyr valued having a strong strategic partner in the region over any real pretences of pacifism. Few in the Confederacy or the Galactic Council were surprised.

    The conflict did give rise to an opportunity (though some would call it an excuse). While the Aifu had locked Humanity out of the Rim Pocket, the Bernhard Walther had been exploring the frontier far in advance of the rest of Humanity. So when the pocket was closed, the instruction was to map out as much as possible and send the reports back to Earth.

    Spectral and gravitational analysis indicated that there were several habitable planets in the Pocket. The first was the tropical world of Ipiescilia II, which had been surveyed by the time the Aifu claimed the system. Spurred on by their success, the Bernhard Walther pressed on. However, the next few worlds proved to be disappointments, as nuclear war or other disasters had scoured them clean of life.

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    The Tomb World designation was reserved for planets that had at some point sustained life, but were now barren wastelands. The reasons were numerous. While background radiation suggested nuclear weapons had been the cause in several instances, there were also other reasons. The most worrying instances had no clear cause.

    Art by Will Brosch

    While there were some fringe suggestions that Humanity could terraform these dead worlds, most of the general public was quite fed up with the promises of terraforming after the Samnivik scandal. There were also significant doubts about whether healing these dead worlds was even technically possible.

    As it stood, the discovery of these dead worlds was a mix of disappointment and satisfaction. If all the worlds within the Rim Pocket were dead, then it didn’t matter that Humanity had lost the race. This changed with the discovery of Seginus IV.

    Seginus IV was in most respects an unremarkable arid world, small and hostile to Human life. In most instances, it wouldn’t even have been considered for colonisation. However, it was home to the Queptilium, a bronze-age civilisation.

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    The Queptilium were in most ways unremarkable as alien species went. However, they did seem to have an unusually high tolerance for radiation, as did most life on the planet. Further study revealed the remains of a starship that had crashed millions of years ago. The decaying reactor had leaked radioactive isotopes into the environment, forcing life to adapt.​

    Most of the time, a discovery like this would only be of interest to xenologists. The Cormanthani in the Pithria system had set the precedence more than half a century earlier that non-spacefaring species were to be left alone. While passive studies were permitted, Humanity was not to interfere with their “wards”. The Queptilium, however, gave the Confederate leadership an excuse.

    The Aifu were not particularly fond of alien species, though they were not actively hostile towards them either. It was unclear what would happen should they control the Seginus system. There were hopes that they would respect the Queptilium’s way of life, and leave them alone. The same could not be said for the Connisthians. Furthermore, with the ongoing war between the Aifu and the Connisthians, it was unclear if the Aifu could protect the Queptilium, even if they wanted to.

    The newly elected Confederation Chancellor, Petr Burian, was eager to prove himself equal to his predecessor. As such, he saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Humanity would protect the Queptilium from outside interference, and in order to do this, the Confederacy would claim parts of the Rim Pocket. However, this required the Aifu to cede the Ipiescilia system, along with a few others. By pure happenstance, this would give Humanity another colonisable world.

    While some, especially the Indochinese Federation, argued that this was imperialism given a friendly wrapping, there was a great deal of support for the plan. The Aifu had never been popular among Humans (something they had in common with most sentient species in the galaxy), and the Connisthians worried people.

    Unexpected support also came from the Ring, as various Lilarobius politicians expressed support for Chancellor Burian’s plan. They were always careful to express their support in ways that would not run them afoul of various anti-Lavis laws. One prominent speaker in the Ring Garden, Weeping Willow, even travelled to Earth to lobby for the Confederacy to “intervene on behalf of the Queptilium.”

    While some argued that the Confederacy should not trade Human lives for aliens (though some more cynical pundits argued that the Confederacy was trading lives for colonies), Burian was able to marshall a majority in the Assembly. The Confederacy would go before the Galactic Council, and request that the Aifu Remnant cede its territory in order for Humanity to safeguard the Queptilium. As the proposal was prepared, the Expeditionary Fleet was dispatched from Earth towards the pocket. The fleet contained six of Humanity’s most modern cruisers. However, it would take several years for it to arrive.

    Unsurprisingly, the Aifu Remnant rejected the proposal out of hand. Given that they were already under attack by the Connisthians, they saw this as just another alien species out to get them. They denounced Humanity and demanded that the other members of the Galactic Council do the same. Only the Beldross Hive complied with their demand, as they closed their border to Human traffic. Most saw this as opportunism on the Beldross’ part, who had been growing increasingly hostile towards Humanity.

    In some ways, the demand backfired, as the Sildor Blessed Union took the opportunity to further denounce the Aifu.

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    Much like their denouncement of Humanity, the denouncement of the Aifu was mainly motivated by Sildor domestic policy. The war with the Rixi had catastrophically undermined the legitimacy of the government, and any chance at directing that anger at an outside enemy was welcomed.​

    Despite the rejection, the Confederacy continued to argue their stance in the Galactic Council. While the Aifu were unlikely to budge, the goal was to lay the groundwork for a just war, both in the eyes of the Human public, and the other species of the galaxy. Burian, a former military man, was convinced that the Aifu fleet was hopelessly outmatched against Humanity, and with luck would be greatly reduced by the Connisthians by the time the Expeditionary Fleet arrived.

    Humanity, and the galaxy at large, prepared itself for yet another war. And it would come almost exactly a year after the Expeditionary Fleet left Earth. However, it was not the war everyone expected.

    On the 6th of October, 2176, the fleets of the Citizen Confederation of Adanir entered the space of the Fevarian Bonded Merchants. As their ships entered FBM space, Consul Menhazu of the Citizen Confederation announced the start of Operation Corporate Liquidation. The goal was the total liberation of all occupied systems. Standing against them were the Fevarian Bonded Merchants, the Vetyr Shipping Alliance, and a token force from the Opalglec Systems.

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    The reconquest of former Adanir systems had long been expected, but not for quite some time. It was unclear if the Citizen Confederation had the ships to retake their occupied territories, especially as they did not have the support of the Byrrieck People’s Union this time. However, the Vetyr could not count on the support of the Connisthians either.​

    The Adanir achieved total strategic and operational surprise, surging into unprotected systems across the front line. However, in the Raumstreitkräfte, there were significant doubts about whether they possessed the means to maintain their momentum. Human history was full of instances of political leaders making rash decisions while the military was left on the back foot.

    What followed were the now fairly standard crisis meetings in the Galactic Council. However, this time there was not even an attempt by the various non-belligerent parties to appear neutral. The Adanir Reqonquest, as it soon became known[3], was seen as the logical continuation of the war that had formed the Galactic Community. As such, the member states’ views mirrored those of the previous conflict, and this time, diplomatic niceties were not observed.

    The Byrrieck People’s Union led the charge, calling the Fevarian Bonded Merchants a capitalist perversion of the People’s will, and demanding that the FBM surrender immediately in order to preserve life. This then turned into a farce when the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association supported the People’s Union’s demands. The Vetyr, left without anyone speaking on their behalf, turned to the Connisthian Hegemony for support. Grand Marshal Kaleeg Slipway further embarrassed the Vetyr by stating that “If the Adanir can take these lands, they deserve them”.

    Back on Earth, both the public and the Assembly favoured the Citizen Confederation. Some members of the Assembly, led by the representatives of the Indochinese Federation, even backed the demand of the Byrrieck People’s Union, calling for the Fevarian Bonded Merchants’ immediate surrender.

    To Chancellor Burian, the war was a blessing, but also a potential trap. With the Expeditionary Fleet already underway, the war distracted both the public and the Galactic Community, giving them the time needed to get in position. However, some feared that the anti-Vetyr sentiment sweeping the galaxy could quickly turn towards Humanity.

    Time would tell.


    [1] - The Treaty of Zerak took its name from Verrian Zerak, a noted diplomat from the Byrrieck People’s Union. The People’s Union had been brought in as neutral negotiators. Zerak described the treaty as “[his] greatest achievement, and most miserable experience”.

    [2] - With the exception of the Rixi Chroniclers and the Ugarlak Forerunners. Following the Rixi-Sildor War, no Confederate military planner considered war against them viable. Most contingency plans for a war involved surrendering at the first opportunity.

    [3] - Among the Vetyr and their allies, the war was known as the Second Piracy War. The alternate name did not catch on in the wider galactic community.
     
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    A Geopolitical Feeding Frenzy
  • A Geopolitical Feeding Frenzy​

    April 2182 - Low Xuizenoca orbit - Heavy Cruiser Belukha

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    The ships of the Expeditionary Fleet spent weeks preparing for Operation Türklopfer. Operating in such a low orbit put them at increased risk from ground-based anti-ship weapons. However, no attack was ever attempted. Admiral Strelkov later attributed this to the Xuizenoca natives being afraid of provoking Humanity’s wrath.

    Art By Meganerid

    Stepan Strelkov was already awake when the alarm clock rang. He hadn’t slept much, almost as if he was nervous. Which was preposterous. He had nothing to be nervous about. Yes, today was S-Day, but that was nothing to be worried about. He was in complete control of the situation. There was nothing the Aifu could do to stop him or his men. It was as if he was nervous about going to the shooting range.

    After a quick shower, he got dressed in his freshly pressed uniform. Yes, today was not a day to be worried about, but it would still be one for the history books, so he, and everyone else, should look the part.

    He took breakfast in his cabin. Compared to the usual fare, it was quite luxurious. Real eggs and bacon on mushroom bread. He had ordered the mess to break out the limited goods for today. Morale among the troops was high, but given what they were about to do, it didn’t hurt to “top off”.

    He glanced through the night’s reports as he ate. They were all the standard fare, nothing out of the ordinary. Most days he would have just skimmed them, trusting his officers to highlight anything needing his attention. But they had diligently seen to every issue possible in the past two weeks. It was only right that he put in the same effort.

    There was, of course, nothing requiring his attention. The most interesting reports came from his Head of Intelligence, who detailed the increasingly panicked transmissions coming from the planet below. They would have to discuss this with the Chancellor.

    After finishing his breakfast, he made his way to the conference room. Every senior member of the Expeditionary Fleet was already there, waiting for him. Him, and the Chancellor. After finding his seat, he glanced at the senior technician.
    “Are we ready?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Then patch us through.”

    The technician adjusted some settings on his console, and the ship’s Russalka Phone dialled home. Back to Earth.

    After about a minute of waiting, the connection was stable and a voice rang out.
    “Admiral Strelkov, it is a pleasure to hear from you,” Chairman Petr Burian said.

    It was somewhat uncanny. Stepan knew it wasn’t Burian’s voice. To save on bandwidth, the Russalka Phone transmitted text and the onboard computer synthesised his voice. But despite this, it really sounded like the man who had met with him years ago, before the Expeditionary Fleet’s departure from Earth.

    “Chancellor, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the pleasure is all ours. Especially on this momentous day.”

    The talk went around the table, as his officers introduced themselves. They all kept it brief, not wanting to waste the Chancellor’s time. But Stepan knew that today they had the Chancellor’s full attention.

    “Mr. Chancellor, have there been any response from the Aifu High Command?”
    “That depends on your definition of response, Admiral. They have replied to our messages. They are not complying with our demands, but at least they’re replying. For the Aifu Remnant, that alone is a major breakthrough.”

    “So no change in regards to Operation Türklopfer?”
    “So far we are proceeding as planned. Our back channels and intelligence services suggest that they are close to agreeing to our demands. All that is needed is a slight push. And some orbital bombardment will hopefully suffice.”

    “Mr. Chancellor,” Captain Elanor Sharp, his Head of Intelligence, interjected. “We’ve received numerous offers of surrender from the local government. They are willing to comply with whatever demand we have, as long as we do not open fire.”
    “Yes, I’ve seen the reports. Unfortunately, they are not in a position to give us what we want. We are not planning to hold Xuizenoca. So it serves us more as an object lesson. And unless the Aifu High Command decides to accept our demands within the next six hours, then Türklopfer will continue as planned.”

    “Understood, Sir,” Stepan said. Captain Sharp had argued on behalf of the locals for the last few days, but if she was disappointed, she did not show it. “Have there been any changes to the rules of engagement?”

    “No changes,” Burian said almost casually. “Prioritize military targets, but especially those that can be seen by the civilian population. I want as many images of military bases being obliterated to filter back to the general Aifu population. Hopefully that will change some minds. Just try to not hit a school or hospital by accident. I’m already up to my ears in Indochinese reds calling this an imperialist adventure. I don’t need more people listening to them.”

    A round of chuckles went around the table. The Indochinese Federation had become something of a recurring punchline since the beginning of the war, with the troops finding new and interesting ways to call them cowards. Stepan didn’t mind it per se, but he worried if the attitudes would persist after the war.

    He had read the reports. With most of the Navy committed to the war, piracy was rising. The Indochinese Federation had refused to allow any of their ships to be used in the conflict, so the Syndicalists made up a significant portion of their anti-piracy efforts. And from the reports, they were punching significantly above their weight.

    The rest of the meeting passed with his officers discussing the minutia of the upcoming plan. Most of it was already settled, so it was largely a matter of dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. When the meeting ended, Operation Türklopfer was four hours away.

    * * *​

    Three hours and forty-five minutes later, Stepan walked onto the bustling flag bridge. He’d changed into his still pretty formal operational uniform, wearing his skinsuit underneath. There was still no confirmed risk for any of the ships in the fleet, but that was no excuse for being sloppy.

    Dying to vacuum exposure thanks to some Aifu Hail Mary would be operationally bad, but the embarrassment would be catastrophic. Every history book detailing the war would reach its climax, and end with him dying an incredibly preventable death. Military history was full of commanders like that, and joining them would be worse than vacuum exposure.

    He found his seat, hanging his helmet on the side of it, and sat down. He didn’t issue any instructions, instead listening to his officers work. It was a well-oiled machine. Most of them had trained their whole careers for this moment, and there was a real chance that they would not get another opportunity to prove themselves like this. Everyone, from his XO to the non-commissioned officers, was fully focused on their duties.

    The digital display on the far wall was ticking steadily down. Stepan didn’t expect the Aifu to comply with the demands in the next ten minutes. Even if they wanted to, just sending the message to the Chancellor would take a few hours, and then getting the message back to the fleet would add a couple more to that. No, upholding the deadline was simply a bit of theatre for the people back home. Some might object if he started early.

    With five minutes left on the clock, he issued the order to enter final combat readiness. Across the bridge, and the fleet in general, men and women put on their helmets and activated their life-support systems. When the timer reached zero, he activated his suit radio.

    “Ladies and Gentlemen of the Expeditionary Fleet. The time we all have been training for has finally come. The Aifu Remnant has so far refused our demands. Our only desire was to protect the Queptilium from Connisthian aggression, letting them develop in peace. The Aifu denied passage for our ships, in clear violation of the terms outlined by the Galactic Council. When the Chancellor issued his demands, the Aifu steadfastly refused, choosing to instead shed blood for a couple of uninhabited rocks.

    And today the Aifu face the consequences of their refusal. Our assignment is simple: lay the groundwork for the troops to do their job. I know you will all go above and beyond your duty today. Now then, let’s make Earth proud.”

    He deactivated his radio. It was all lies, of course. And everyone knew it. The troops raised on the Rim were a token force, and sending them into actual combat was a political non-starter. No, the Aifu had lost the war. They only needed an excuse to concede. He, and the rest of the Expeditionary Fleet, was about to give them that excuse.

    “Captain Suslov, commence operations.”
    Suslov made a quick salute, his eyes gleaming behind the face plate. He began barking orders to the gunners’ station and soon the entire bridge was abuzz with activity. A few minutes later, the entire ship shuddered as the main guns fired. Watching the main targeting plot, Stepan saw the rounds move closer and closer to the planet.

    The first salvo hit a munitions depot, blowing the entire facility sky-high. The second salvo hit a nearby military base. This required a few more follow-up shots, but soon enough it too was nothing more than a collection of craters. He was getting similar reports from the other ships in the fleet. But the much more interesting report was a feed forwarded by Sharp. She’d patched in an Aifu news feed and he was now watching live reporting on the destruction he was inflicting upon the planet below.

    The images were horrific. Or at least, that was what he hoped the Aifu would think. The Chancellor was convinced that they were close to accepting his terms. Stepan hoped, for the sake of those groundside, that he was right.


    * * *​

    As 2177 began, unsettling reports landed on Chancellor Burian’s desk. In contrast to expectation, the Aifu were wearing the Connisthians down. Details were, as always, muddled and incomplete, but intelligence reports from the Connisthian Hegemony indicated a steady uptick in warrior funerals.

    Connisthian society placed a great deal of importance on honouring those who had died in battle. As a result, extensive casualty lists were regularly published so that the families of the dead could properly honour the fallen warrior. While the Connisthians regarded these losses as marks of great honour, the rest of the galaxy instead saw the Aifu holding against the Connisthians.

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    A traditional Connisthian funeral pyre. As most of the dead were lost to the void, these funerals typically burned the fallen in effigy. The funerals were typically conducted on mountains or cliffs and could be seen for miles.

    Art by Mahalah Moore

    This was, of course, concerning to the Confederacy, and especially to Chancellor Burian. There was still hope that the Aifu would agree to the Confederacy’s terms. However, if the Remnant could hold off the Connisthians, they might be inclined to resist. As a precautionary measure, Burian dispatched the Home Fleet to aid the Expeditionary Fleet.

    This set off alarm bells in the Assembly. When the Chancellor proposed the original plan to the Assembly, the central conceit hinged on the assumption that the Aifu would not be able to resist the might of the Expeditionary Fleet. While few believed that the Aifu would be able to resist the combined Expeditionary and Home Fleets, it did leave open uncomfortable questions. Chief among them, who would defend Earth?

    Chancellor Burian burned a lot of political capital over the year, trying to calm down what he would later describe as “borderline hysterical Assemblymembers”. His chief argument was that the various anti-pirate patrol fleets could act as a viable defence force should the need arise. However, as he would later admit to in his biography, A Galaxy for Mankind, this was a paper-thin excuse and only worked by playing to the prejudices common at the time.

    “Everyone knew that the War of the Dual Alliances had shattered the forces of everyone spinwards of us. And it was true. The Beldross, the WBTA, the Hierarchy of Hazi, the Versum… none of them would have stood a chance against our fleets at the time. But that didn’t mean that their entire fleets were gone, and the idea that we could stop them with a handful of patrol boats was preposterous. But people believed what they wanted to believe. But had the Beldross come knocking in 2178, reality would have asserted itself quickly.”

    That year gave Burian both a blessing and a headache. The blessing came when the Byrrieck People’s Union declared war on the Aifu. This came as a surprise to the entire Galactic Community, as the Byrrieck had repeatedly denounced both the Connisthians and Humanity for what they saw as “imperialist ambitions with no regard for the common people”. What was even more surprising was that the goal of the war was to claim several disputed systems.

    This naturally spread the Aifu forces even thinner, giving Burian a greater chance at achieving his goal without firing a shot.

    The headache came from the Beldross, who claimed several Human systems along the galactic rim. While they had not yet claimed Russalka, they did claim every system between Russalka and Hive territory.

    In the Assembly, there were several calls for the Chancellor to issue some sort of denouncement of the Beldross claims. But in private, Burian and his ministers worried that such an act could escalate the conflict. And with the Home Fleet out of position, the Confederacy would not have the means to respond. So Burian remained silent. However, one thing was clear: something would have to be done about the Beldross Hive.

    By mid-2179, the Expeditionary Fleet had reached its staging point by the Aifu border. The diplomatic talks, however, were going nowhere. After the Byrrieck declaration of war, the Aifu had left the Galactic Council and closed all official diplomatic channels, viewing every alien species as a threat. Even with Confederate diplomats making it clear that Humanity would fight them unless they agreed to their demands, the Aifu stalwartly refused to talk.

    So Burian issued an ultimatum. Unless the Aifu Remnant ceded the Regis, Ipiecilia and Lishval systems by midnight of the 9th of July, Confederate ships would enter Aifu space and take them by force.

    The 9th of July came and went without any word from the Aifu Remnant. So on the 10th, Burian ordered the Expeditionary fleet to attack.

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    The declaration of war saw a fairly muted geopolitical response. The Sildor issued a token condemnation, mostly for the sake of condemning Humanity. The strongest responses came from the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association and the Vetyr Shipping Alliance, both of whom urged Humanity to respect the rights of galactic shipping.​

    The attack went off without a hitch. On the 31st of November that year, the Expeditionary Fleet took the Regis system. This was the only fortified system in the region, home to a large starbase that provided logistical services to the area. The station was taken with minimal loss of Human life[1], giving the Confederacy a solid foothold to launch further operations. The Expeditionary Fleet would spend the next few months taking control of most of the Aifu systems along the rim.

    There was, however, one major wrinkle to Humanity’s early success. Several of the Aifu systems claimed by the Confederacy were not currently in Aifu hands. Instead, they were currently enduring Connistihian occupation. And though these were lightly held, the commanding officer of the Expeditionary Fleet, Admiral Strelkov, had been given strict instructions to avoid provoking the Connistihians.

    This problem did have one potential solution. The Bernhard Walther had since the beginning of the war been skulking around the Rim Pocket. With its powerful sensor arrays, the ship was an excellent scout and sent regular reports back to the fleet. And they detected the telltale hyperlane signature of a sizable Aifu fleet in the area.

    Admiral Strelkov’s plan was thus to pull the Expeditionary Fleet back to the Regis system. Hopefully, the Aifu fleet would retake the occupied systems. Strelkov could then engage the fleet, and claim the newly liberated systems. If the Aifu did not retake the systems, then it would give time for the Home Fleet, under the command of Admiral Lions, to reach the frontlines. With Lions in place to hold the Rim Pocket, Strelkov would be free to strike deep into Aifu territory.

    Things did not go according to plan. Whether by accident or design, the Aifu fleet that the Bernhard Walther was tracking did not try to liberate Connosthian-held systems, or engage the Expeditionary Fleet. Instead, it targeted the Bernhard Walther itself. The science ship fled towards friendly lines, but after a few weeks of cat-and-mouse manoeuvring, the Aifu fleet managed to corner the ship.

    Exactly what happened is unknown. The commander of the ship, Captain Kasprzak, sent a message back to Earth, stating that he would try to surrender. He and his crew were never heard from again. The Aifu denied ever receiving the offer of surrender, and for a time, there was a certain degree of uncertainty surrounding the fate of the crew. However, three years after the conclusion of the war, the wreck of the Bernhard Walther was discovered. The bodies of the crew were charred by weapons fire, but DNA analysis confirmed their identities. It was the single largest loss of Human life during the war.

    For many, the loss of the Bernhard Walther signified the end of an era. The ship, which had served for almost a century, had built up a certain mystique. Despite being refitted and remodelled so many times that there was hardly an original screw left, the old science ships represented a very romantic view of the galaxy. They ventured out into the black and brought home alien wonders. Several books, movies and video games had been made about their journeys, both real and fictional. But now there were few remaining unexplored systems. And those that were still unchartered, were so for a reason.

    This feeling was further intensified when, in 2181, the Johannes von Gmunden strayed too close to Fjasivlin Void Raider territory and was destroyed. While a new exploration ship, the Shi Shen, would be laid down to replace the losses, it would never attain the same level of fame as its predecessors. The age of exploration was over.

    To Admirals Strelkov and Lions, the loss of the Bernhard Walther was unfortunate, but not critical to their plans. With Lions in place to hold the Regis system, Strelkov was free to act. After consulting with Chancellor Burian, Strelkov was given free rein to “bring the war to the enemy.” The Expeditionary Fleet set a course for the Soao system, deeper into the territory of the Aifu Remnant.

    At this point, Burian and Strelkov were acting without a firm plan. There was very little intelligence regarding the Aifu interior. While rough estimates of the hyperlane network had been assembled by scientists back on Earth, Strelkov had no idea what he might find. He thus proceeded carefully and methodically.

    Burian, on the other hand, prepared as best he could. There had been one significant oversight during the lead-up to the war. The strategic planners had hoped that the Aifu would give in to Humanity’s demands without war. However, if this was not to be, then Humanity would take the contested systems and sue for peace.

    However, following the outbreak of war, the Aifu refused to respond to any Human communication. And given that they had also withdrawn from the Galactic Council, getting other stellar nations to act as intermediaries was also proving difficult. The Confederacy would have to force the Aifu to the negotiation table. And for that to happen, they would need stronger leverage than a handful of frontier systems.

    Strelkov was thus instructed to find and besiege any large Aifu population centres. But taking any such population centres would prove difficult. Most of the ground forces were still on and around Earth. Sending them all the way to the frontlines would once again take years. So Burian decided to order the recruitment of several new divisions on the frontier worlds near the border.

    These divisions would be nowhere near the quality of those back on Earth, so orbital support would be critical. Burian and the Assembly hoped they would not be needed[2].

    As Strelkov pushed deeper into Aifu territory, the Aifu were dealt another blow. On the 27th of November, 2180, a year after Humanity took the Regis system, the Sildor Blessed Union declared holy war on the Aifu Remnant, opening yet another front in the war.

    CRVEEgM.jpeg


    The declaration of war by the Blessed Union was an act of pure opportunism. After seeing the Aifu struggle to respond to the Confederacy’s invasion, the Reverend Elder saw a golden opportunity to press their claim to a handful of disputed systems.​

    At this point, the Aifu Remnant was at war with four different stellar nations, all bent on carving off bits of their territory. Foreign Minister Landau expressed the situation best when she called it “less of a number of wars, and more of a geopolitical feeding frenzy”.

    The entry of the Sildor did lead to Humanity calling for a meeting of the Galactic Council, which had not been called for either the Byrrieck or Confederate declarations of war. However, unlike previous meetings following the declaration of an interstellar war, this was not about stopping it. Instead, the Confederacy wanted to avoid unintended escalations between the belligerent parties.

    On Earth and in the Galactic Council there was a very real fear that with so many different fleets engaging in combat operations, there was a severe risk of diplomatic “incidents”. Careless action could easily spread the war to new theatres.

    The Sildor Blessed Union and the Byrrieck People’s Union were already coordinating extensively, as they had entered a defensive agreement some years earlier (though they were not formally allies in the ongoing conflict). The same could not be said for Humanity and the Sildor, whose relations were at a low point. And nobody had good relations with the Connisthian Hegemony.

    The initial meetings did not go well, mostly due to Connisthian blustering. To them, agreeing not to fight was effectively an insult to their people and the Connisthian delegation spent much of their time insulting the perceived weakness of the other species.

    Fortunately, this blustering did not go on for too long. On the 26th of December, just under a month after the Sildor declaration of war, the Connisthian Hegemony and the Aifu Remnant declared a ceasefire as a prelude to peace negotiations. While it would take some time for the details to be formalized, this marked the end of the Aifu-Connisthian war[3].

    With the Connisthians out of the picture, the talks between the Confederacy, the People’s Union and the Blessed Union could continue. The Sildor initially wanted to press their position to extract some minor political concessions from Humanity, but the Byrrieck objected, not wanting to damage relations unnecessarily. In the end, all three parties agreed to keep each other broadly informed of their military manoeuvres.

    The Connosthian exit from the war presented an opportunity for the Confederate Fleet. With them leaving the war, the systems they had occupied lay undefended, and Admiral Lions sent the Home Fleet to occupy the systems. There were still no confirmed sightings of the Aifu fleets.

    The year that followed was known as the Quiet Year, as no real fighting took place. Admiral Strelkov kept pushing deeper into Aifu space, seizing stations as he went. Most of the time, the Aifu forces stationed there surrendered after a couple of warning shots[4]. But in late 2181, the fleet sensors indicated that the Tir system was inhabited. Strelkov had his target.

    gPsPmxY.jpeg


    The theatre of operations at the end of the Quiet Year. Strelkov had pushed deep into Aifu territory in his search for Aifu population centres. Facing little resistance, his main concerns were his supply lines.​

    The Tir system was something of an anomaly in the Aifu Remnant. Before the Aifu collapse in the previous cycle, the system had been home to Xuizenoca, a major trading hub. The planet had been abandoned during the Aifu Empire’s contraction, but the Remnant had reclaimed the planet and settled it, despite their compromised immune system. By the time Admiral Strelkov brought the Expeditionary Fleet into the system, Xuizenoca was thriving once more.

    Taking control of the spaceborne infrastructure proved no great challenge, as the system was largely undefended. However, taking the planet would require a great deal of manpower. Manpower that Strelkov did not have. He immediately sent word back to Earth that he required the troops raised. After a furious debate in the Assembly, Strelkov’s request was approved and troops were dispatched from Yutu. Though if the troops would be landing was still an open question.

    5aizY8i.jpeg


    The Expeditionary Fleet sorties into the Tir system. The Battle of Tir was short and one-sided. The defending Aifu had jury-rigged a handful of weapons to the local shipyards, but these proved wholly inadequate against an organised military force.​

    Meanwhile, Strelkov was instructed to “soften up” the Aifu defences. However, Burian suggested he take his time in getting ready, as covert talks were getting underway with the Aifu. Strelkov did as asked, and spent the next two weeks getting his fleet into position. Meanwhile, on Xuizenoca, panic was rampant. The Expeditionary Fleet had deliberately not damaged civilian communication infrastructure, allowing the besieged world to send panicked requests for aid.

    Despite this, the talks with the Aifu went nowhere. So Burian authorised Operation Türklopfer, an opening orbital salvo targeting key military strongpoints on the planet. For two days, the Expeditionary Fleet rained down fire on Xuizenoca, and for two days, the panicking citizens pleaded for help. It proved to be the final straw. Humanity demanded only a handful of unpopulated systems, and keeping this war going would only lead to further Aifu deaths. On the 13th of April, 2182, the Aifu Remnant agreed to the Confederacy’s demands.

    MwzMS9h.jpeg


    In many ways, the Human - Aifu war was a very limited conflict. Human casualties were limited to the only ship lost during the war, the Bernhard Walther. Aifu casualties were limited to those on Regis station and those killed during the bombardment of Xuizenoca. Exact number of Aifu casualties are disputed, but most credible estimates put them at around 5.000. What is known for certain, is that the Aifu considered, both at the time and later, the Human front to be of secondary importance.​

    For Humanity, the war was over. For the Aifu, there was no such relief.


    [1] - The loss of Aifu life, however, was significant. While some died in the fighting, many more committed suicide after the station was secured. But the greatest loss of life came in the weeks that followed, as Humans introduced new pathogens onto the space station, and the fragile Aifu immune system was unable to stave off disease.

    [2] - The creation of these new armies proved controversial in the colonies, especially on Yutu. There were widespread fears that conscription would be used to bolster the ranks, and the thought of soldiers being sent to their deaths to serve the colonial ambitions of another nation was not popular. The Assembly was thus wary of provoking the colonies, issuing proclamations that the armies would be volunteer only.

    [3] - The terms of the treaty saw the transfer of the Meryl, Brias and Sabik systems to the Connisthians. All three systems were unknown to Human cartographers.

    [4] - While the shots were used as justification for surrendering, many Aifu on the stations admitted to being far more frightened by any pathogens Humanity would bring along should the stations be boarded. Admiral Strelkov considered these fears, and in return for their timely surrender, did not board the stations. He instead disabled a few key external systems and left the Aifu captives aboard their stations.
     
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    Interlude: The Final Line
  • Interlude: The Final Line​

    April 2182 - Sarvorstay Station - Personal Quarter FE162

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    Aifu media covering the wars often depicted ground combat, despite it being fairly rare. Xenologists attributed this to the Aifu’s compromised immune system, as most ground combatants took to the field in mechanised suits bristling with weapons. This gave any given Aifu soldier a significant firepower advantage, though they were typically vastly outnumbered. Despite this, Aifu soldiers attained a sort of knightly glamour.

    Art by Nikolay Razuev

    “They’re pushing the left flank! I need some backup!” Biyak's voice was clipped and to the point, but Vikya could hear the pressure getting to him.
    “Understood,” Vikya said. “Keep your head down. Shifting fire.”

    Vikya shifted his autocannon towards the left flank and fired. Shell after shell tore into the Humans, ripping them apart in showers of blood and gore. They died by the dozens, but they came by the hundreds. It was clear that the line wouldn’t hold.

    “Biyak, you’re gonna get overrun. Pull back now!”
    “It’s a bit late for that…” He sounded resigned.
    “What?” Tivya asked. “Did you die?”
    “Yup. Even with all the fire Vikya put out, it wasn’t even close to being fair. The developers need to tweak the Humans. I can’t tell them apart from the Sildor, and then I’m totally unprepared when they pull out their bullshit abilities.”
    “Sure, but I don’t think the Humans and the Sildor can tell each other apart either,” Vikya said.

    Biyak grumbled something as he waited for the next respawn.

    “I think we should fall back to the next defensive line,” Tivya said. “I doubt we’ll be able to hold this one.”
    “The next line is the final line,” Biyak said.
    “I mean, that’s the title of the game, isn’t it?”
    Vikya could practically hear the eye-roll over the voice chat. “Fine… Let’s fall back.”

    “Did you hear that, Fivre?” Vikya asked.
    There wasn’t a response. But he could see Fivre’s character putting shotgun blast after shotgun blast into the advancing Humans.

    “Fivre!”
    “What?”
    “We’re falling back to the next line.”
    “Why?”
    “Because we’re being overrun…”
    “Oh… Right…”

    Over the last few weeks, Fivre had been having trouble focusing. Or maybe hyperfocusing was the right term. Every moment not spent at work was spent gaming. He played a lot more of The Final Line than anyone else, but he also played several other games, like System Strike: The Counterattack, Eternal Liberation, or any other game where you could slaughter aliens. Vikya understood. Or maybe he didn’t. It was hard to place himself in Fivre’s stasis tank. Compared to him, Vikya’s own struggles seemed pretty mild.

    Dropping out of school to work in a munitions factory had seemed like the right thing to do. His parents had even agreed with him. His father had even expressed pride. He’d wanted to join the military, but he was still too young, even with the reduced age requirements. So until he met them, he would make shells instead of firing them.

    It still felt like he wasn’t doing his part. He was safe, far from the fighting, playing games every evening with his friends. While each day, countless Aifu suffered to keep him safe. The warships were crowded and unsanitary, and the aliens held countless Aifu as prisoners of war. Hell, the Humans held the entire planet of Xuizenoca hostage.

    The messages from Xuizenoca were unsettling. The Humans were just there, hovering in orbit, refusing to do anything. Holding a gun to the heads of almost a billion people.

    There was a perverse part of him who wondered if anyone played The Last Line there. It seemed to help Fivre. Maybe it was the same for them.

    They hustled back to the next defensive line, setting up what automated turrets they still had, preparing whatever air- and orbital power they could still call on. Vikya was confident they could still hold the line. Biyak, not so much. He was already complaining about balance, noting that his loadout had been nerfed in the last patch.

    Vikya set up his autocannon near the main chokepoint, and as the Humans surged forward, he tore into them. His kill count rose steadily, filling him with confidence. They would succeed in holding the line. So he was shocked when Tivya died.

    “Wait, what happened?” he asked.
    “Why are we already failing?” Biyak added.

    There wasn’t any response. Only the game telling them that unless they pushed back the Humans, they would fail, and the planet fall. Vikya tried to rally and retake the objective. But as he did, he saw Fivre’s character standing still while being torn apart by aliens.

    A moment later, the mission failed screen appeared.

    “What the hell was that?” Biyak demanded. “That wasn’t even game balance, that was just crap play. What the hell happened.”
    “The Humans opened fire,” Tivya said.
    “Yeah, no shit. It’s what the enemy is supposed to do.”
    “Not in the game,” Fivre said. “They opened fire on Xuizenoca.”
    “It’s all over the feeds,” Tivya dropped a link in the group chat.

    Vikya felt his skin contract. With a sense of impending dread, he opened the feed.

    The first thing he saw was a munitions factory, much like the one he worked at, blowing sky high. The air was filled with secondary explosions and burning bits rained down on the city below. As the camera pointed to the sky, people claimed they could see the shadows of drop ships approaching. Vikya couldn’t see anything like that, but it was only a matter of time.

    “Damn…” Biyak said. “Have they said anything?”
    It wasn’t clear who they were. If they were the Humans, or the government. It probably didn’t matter at this point. Not with death raining down from orbit.

    “I… I, um….” Fivre said. “I need to go.” And without another word, he dropped out of the call. Vikya didn’t know what Fivre needed to do. It probably didn’t matter much. He wished he had something he needed to do. Instead, he sat there, watching as Humanity bombed Xuizenoca. He knew there was nothing he could do. He was light years away. He just wished there was something he could put his mind to. Biyak came to the rescue.

    “Do you guys want to do another run? Maybe fight the Connisthians this time?”
    “Yeah…,” Vikya and Tivya said in unison.

    They queued up for another game as Xuizenoca burned.
     
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    The Burian Conspiracy
  • The Burian Conspiracy​

    November 2188 - Stettin - Confederacy of Sol Assembly Hall

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    The location of the Confederacy of Sol Assembly Hall was controversial from the moment the Confederacy was established as whichever nation was chosen to host it would be seen as having an outsized influence on the organisation. A proposal to host the Assembly on a space station was seriously considered, but rejected due to practical concerns. The city of Stettin was chosen as the city had organically grown to be a centre of early space exploration and administration.

    Photo by Berdo Maghularia

    Admiral Natalie Lions had assumed that the security check would be perfunctory. Hand in her gun and slate, then step through a scanner and be on her way. This wasn’t the first time she’d met with high-ranking members of the Confederacy. She’d even met Burian on one occasion, just prior to shipping out for the Aifu front.

    He hadn’t struck her as overly cautious at the time. He was former military as well, so he respected other soldiers. And he probably understood that if she’d wanted him dead, she would have done so from orbit.

    But the security clearance was unusually thorough. And the staff seemed a bit confused as well. This wasn’t some well-oiled routine they did for everyone. In fact, they seemed less concerned about her weapon, and more interested in her slate and whatever other devices she carried. She had to turn over her comms-link, her AR viewer, even her watch. That was a new one.

    Once the security check was over, she was ushered deeper into the building. But she wasn’t led to the office where she’d met the Chancellor last time. Instead, she was led to an ops room in the basement. There wasn’t a whole lot of activity going on, but a few guards were posted outside one of the adjacent offices. As they came closer, the guards opened the doors.

    Burian was inside, with a handful of aides. As the door opened, all attention fell to Natalie. Burian gave her a broad smile as he walked to meet her.

    “The liberating hero returns,” he said as he shook her hand. His grasp was firm, that of a man who knew his own strength.
    “I’m not sure how much liberating I did, Chancellor. I mostly sat still guarding the rear while Strelkov did all the hard work.”
    “Don’t be modest, Admiral. We both know that war is a team effort. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”
    “Of course, Sir,” she said as she sat down. “I’ll take whatever you recommend.” She knew enough about politics to accept whatever he offered.

    One aide arrived with a pair of glasses and a bottle of something brown. She didn’t recognize the label, but it was probably expensive. The aide poured two glasses and handed one to Natalie before leaving. He closed the doors behind her, and Natalie was left alone with Chancellor Petr Burian.

    “To what, Admiral?” Burian asked, his glass raised for a toast.
    “To peace. And the Confederacy.”
    “To peace and the Confederacy. May all of Humanity enjoy it.”

    She noted the choice of words. The legal status of the Lilarobius had been up in the air ever since the invasion of the Ring, but no one argued that the Confederacy didn’t have a sizable alien population. Even if they weren’t strictly citizens.

    She took a sip from her glass. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. It had a sweetness to it that quickly passed over into a harsh burn. Then the mellow aftertaste kicked in.
    “Do you like it?” Burian asked, smiling from ear to ear.
    “I… I think I do… But what exactly is it?”
    “This is zorum, a popular intoxicant among the Suramo.”

    She stared at the drink again. She’d never had any dealings with the Suramo beyond watching a few films they’d exported. Probably a good thing, seeing as when she interacted with aliens, it meant relations were bad.

    “Must be quite a luxury,” she said, not really knowing how to respond. “Shipping this all the way over here.”
    “In the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association, this is pretty bottom-of-the-barrel spirits,” Burian said, his grin widening with every second. Natalie was sure his head would split in two sooner or later. “But thanks to our slightly different biology, we have a much more favourable response to it. And yes, quite a luxury. That bottle probably costs about the same as a new corvette. Good thing the WBTA sent it as a gift.”

    She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but she decided to just enjoy this… zorum. It was certainly a better cultural exchange than the one she had just returned from.

    A moment passed as they sipped their alien drink. Burian still seemed pleased, but not just from sharing alien luxuries. She knew there was something else. After a moment, Burian reached over to a small device on his desk. A signal jammer. He pressed it, and the momentary whine went through the room, deafening any microphones that might be listening.

    “Tell me Admiral… What are your thoughts on the Beldross.”

    The question was unexpected, but she knew better than to not answer. “In my view, they are somewhat… unsettling. Their whole ‘gestalt consciousness’ is not something I can properly wrap my head around.”
    “Hmm… I understand,” Burian said, his tone of voice making it clear that this was not quite the answer he was looking for. “Let me rephrase the question: what are your thoughts on the Beldross Hive?”

    That was a much clearer question. And one that was pretty easy to answer.
    “They’re one of the two major threats to Human space. Well, I guess the Rixi Chroniclers are also a threat, but not one we can do anything about.”

    The Chancellor’s smile shifted ever so slightly. It became less political and more genuine. And something else. Hunger?

    “Curious, Admiral. What is the second threat? And please, give me your honest analysis of the situation.”
    “Of course, Sir. The way I see it, the Beldross Hive and the Sildor Blessed Union are the biggest geopolitical risks we are dealing with.”

    She got up, taking the glass of zorum with her, and began pacing back and forth in the office. It was something of a nervous habit whenever she tried to get her thoughts in order. Burian, for his part, waited patiently.

    “The Sildor are likely the most militarily capable of the two. While the Aifu didn’t offer much resistance, the Holy Fleet appears to have fought competently. And while they no doubt took a beating at the hands of the Rixi, they’ve had plenty of time to rebuild since then.

    However, while the Sildor are the most capable, I do not believe an attack from them likely. In any conflict with us, their supply lines would be stretched thin, exposed or both. It is not impossible for them to conduct a campaign against us, but it would be hard, costly and, if I may be so bold, it would end in our favour. Meanwhile, the Aifu Remnant is right at their border, their military is in shambles and they’re diplomatically isolated. If I were the Sildor leadership, attacking the Confederacy would not be my first course of action. Not when there is a much juicier prize so close.”

    She took a sip of the Zorum, letting the strange aftertaste spread in her mouth as she gathered her thoughts.

    “Meanwhile, the Beldross Hive is actively belligerent, disputing our ownership of Russalka, as well as several other systems.”
    “Believe me, that did not go down well in St. Petersburg,” Burian chimed in. He sounded amused, almost giddy. Was the alien alcohol getting to him?

    “Now, their fleet was decimated during the War of the Dual Alliances, and while they’ve had plenty of time to rebuild, this latest war with the WTBA probably isn’t doing their fleet numbers any favours. Of course, it’s hard to tell what exactly is going on over there.”
    “One of your colleagues called it ‘a phoney war’.”
    “Not the term I would use to describe it,” she said with a smile. “Regardless, the Bedlross Hive does not present a significant strategic threat to the Confederacy. They do not possess the fleet needed to take and hold territory. That said, they could easily mount surprise raids against us, especially against Russalka or Hoshi No Umi. I know the Confederacy does not care much for the Japanese Empire, but I suspect the public would object to reports of Beldross drones eating Japanese peasants.”

    “That would require some degree of spin on my part,” he said with a smile. “Do you think a Beldross attack is likely?”
    “It is hard to be sure. Rationally, they are already occupied with the ongoing war. But with the recent belligerence, I’m unsure if we can afford to rely on this ‘gestalt consciousness’ to act rationally. And… nevermind.“

    Burian sat up, his smile gone. He looked genuinely interested.
    “No, please, go on.”
    “Sir, I fear the Beldross Hive may have learned the wrong lessons from our war with the Aifu.”

    “Our campaign was fought over a handful of modest systems. Strategically important, but without any large Aifu population centres. And to the Aifu Remnant, we were just a minor backwater front. So when Stepan, er… Admiral Strelkov bombed Xuizenoca, they gave up a handful of border systems, and in return got one less front to fight. But I worry that observers will take the wrong lessons. That parking a fleet in orbit and bombarding the surface will lead to surrender. And I especially fear that the Beldross will learn the wrong lesson. They seem to have trouble understanding… individualistic species. And they are positioned close to two Human colonies. I fear there is a risk that they will… miscalculate.”

    “They would not be the first aliens to do so,” Burian said. The smile was back, but it wasn’t as giddy as before. It had a sombre undertone. “Thank you for your honest analysis, Admiral. I’ve heard similar points made by other members of the fleet. There is some… debate as to how rational the Beldross are.”

    Busian stood up and checked the signal jammer to make sure it was working as intended. Then he stood behind his chair, resting his hands on it.
    “Admiral, what I am about to say to you must never leave these walls. This goes beyond the regular standards of security clearance. If what I am about to say were to reach the public, it could fatally undermine the Confederacy.”

    She looked him straight in the eyes. “Sir, on my honour as an officer, I swear this will stay between us.”
    “Good… Good…”

    He touched a few buttons on his slate and the light projector spun to life. Several documents appeared in the air next to him. Natalie recognized them as Russalka phone transcripts.
    “Just as you and the Confederate Fleet were starting the trip home from the Aifu front, the Suramo reached out to us. They claimed to have intel proving that the Versum Divine Empire and the Beldross Hive were planning an attack on their territory. To deal with this, they intended to do a pre-emptive strike, and given that we have one of the largest fleets and had just prosecuted a successful war, they wanted our assistance.”

    Natalie took a sip. “They went to war without us, so I take it we didn’t accept the offer.”
    “Yes, but not because I didn’t want to. Our security situation was precarious enough with both you and Strelkov on the frontier. Imagine going to war, and then waiting years for you to get back home. The Beldross would have set fire to the seas of Russalka before you arrived. So no, we refused the Trade Association’s request. Talks with the Suramo have been a bit tense ever since, but I think I’ve found a solution.”

    Burian made a few taps on his slate and new images appeared on the light projector. More Russalka phone transcripts. But these didn’t bear the seals of the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association.

    “The Hierarchy of Hazi?”
    “Yes. The Hazar seems concerned about the consequences of a Beldross and Versum victory. They’re hoping to balance the scales.”
    “By taking a page from Brennus and throwing a sword on one end of it. Or in this case, the Confederate Fleet.”

    Burian did a double take.
    “Forget it,” she said. “Do the Hazar know the Suramo asked us before?”
    “We don’t know. It doesn’t change the strategic calculus either way.”

    Natalie finished her drink, setting the glass down on the desk. “It sounds like you intend to take them up on their offer.”
    “I want to. The issue is the Assembly. While there are plenty who share our views on the Beldross threat, I fear that there won’t be enough to swing the vote. There are too many cowards who would much rather do something once it is too late.”

    Natalie leaned back in her chair. There was clearly something more to this whole talk, and they were getting close.
    “The Hazar do have a plan. But it will require a loyal agent at the very tip of the spear. Admiral Lions, I want you to be that speartip.”

    She took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure if the zorum was getting to her, but she leaned back in her seat.

    “Tell me more, Mr. Chancellor.”

    * * *​

    The day after the Confederation Assembly ratified the Aifu - Human peace treaty, the Russian delegation presented its proposal for the colonization of Ipiecilla II. The entire process was a formality, a rubber stamp on a proposal that had been finalised before the start of the war.

    The new colony would be known as Greater Kamchatka, though typically shortened to just Kamchatka. The Russian government had opened parts of the colonial proposal to public input, including the name. Due to its remote location, Ipiecilla II soon drew comparisons to the Kamchatka Peninsula and the name stuck. The government, knowing that colonial nicknames almost always superseded official names, acquiesced and adopted the name.

    While colony ships were being built back on Earth, the Confederacy was hard at work laying claim to as much of the Rim Pocket as it could. With both the Confederacy and the Connisthian Hegemony at peace, it was now a race for both sides to grab as many systems as possible. For Chancellor Burian and his cabinet, it was politically important to claim the Seginus system, home of the Queptilium. In the end, Humanity claimed the system just in time, as a small force of Connisthian construction ships arrived just two weeks after Humanity established its presence in the system.

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    The final peace treaty saw a few Aifu systems cut off from the rest of Aifu space. These systems were mostly home to mining operations, and the treaty made provisions for the safe (if tightly enforced) transit of Aifu freighters. Despite this provision, the economic activity of the systems would slowly decline. In time the systems would attract criminals and dissidents in need of a place to lay low.​

    With sovereignty over the Seginus system established, there was some discussion regarding what was to be done about the Queptilium. Most expected them to be covered by the Pithria
    doctrine of non-intervention. Protecting the Queptilium’s way of life had been part of Burian’s argument for military intervention. However, some saw the Queptilium’s adaptation to extreme radiation as a potential boon.

    Humanity had found several desolate worlds covered in radioactive soot. While extremely harsh, these worlds were still quite resource-rich. A few prominent industrialists, led by Bruno Winkler suggested “integrating” the Queptilium into the Confederacy and using them to colonise these tomb worlds.

    The proposal was immediately controversial, with outrage from Human rights activists who accused Winkler of wanting to effectively enslave the Queptilium for profit. The debate didn’t last long, with Burian stating that the Pithria doctrine would remain in place[1].

    With the war over, The Confederate Fleet began the long journey back to Earth. It would not, however, be joined by the Expeditionary Fleet. The war had demonstrated that Human space was now too large to be adequately defended by a force stationed at Earth. So the Expeditionary Fleet would remain behind, able to respond quickly to either Connisthian or Aifu aggression.

    Politically, the war was a massive win for Petr Burian and other pro-interventionists[2] and they would gain significantly at the next elections, winning a narrow plurality of the seats. Burian himself would be reconfirmed as Chancellor and his popularity would surpass his predecessor, Dudás Viktória.

    This popularity helped smooth over the growing piracy problem that had begun to plague the trade lanes.

    Even before the war, the trade lanes that connected the farthest reaches of Human space to Earth were strained. While regular patrols were made, the space needed to be patrolled had grown over the decades, while the patrol fleets had remained largely the same. At the same time, the amount of ships heading to and from the colonies had grown exponentially.

    With the military distracted by the war, incidents of piracy had increased sharply. Vessels being boarded and held for ransom was a regular occurrence and insurance for freighters and their crews skyrocketed. Deaths were rare, as the pirates couldn’t ransom a corpse, but not unheard of. The Confederacy launched a few targeted strikes after the war at known pirate hot spots, and while these were effective, they did not stop the overall trend. The Confederacy was buckling under overextension.

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    While pirates were seen as a serious problem by most people, they did engender a fair bit of romanticism in the countercultural and underground scene. Certain pirate crews were filled with larger-than-life and charismatic people who often played to people’s expectations. The most famous was Lady Jessica (Real name Jessica Banks), who filmed her raids and distributed carefully edited highlight reels online.​

    In the summer of 2184, the Suramo ambassador on Earth, Fezer Ransa, requested an unofficial meeting with Chancellor Burian and his cabinet. Ransa’s proposal was simple yet explosive: a joint attack on the Beldross Hive.

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    While the public would not become aware of the proposal until years later, it struck like a bombshell behind closed doors. Everyone who knew about it had some opinion on it, but very few to talk to about it.​

    The end of the War of the Dual Alliances had in no way settled the underlying animosity between the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association and its neighbours. Few in the Galactic Community believed that the peace would be long-lasting, and here was definite proof.

    It was not entirely clear if the Beldross still maintained their defensive agreements with the Versum Divine Empire. Beldross - Celimy relations had soured somewhat following the previous war, as the Empire felt that the Beldross had let them down with their poor performance. The Beldross, meanwhile, were not as outspoken but had suffered the greatest fleet losses during the conflict.

    Ransa maintained that the alliance was still in effect and that they were planning a joint attack on the WBTA. Thus, the Board of Directors had proposed a pre-emptive strike to deal with the threat, and they wanted Human assistance.

    While Burian himself would later claim that he was opposed to joining the war, later declassified minutes of the meeting showed that he and much of his cabinet were eager to aid the Suramo. Only the protests of senior military officers kept him from agreeing to aid the WBTA then and there.

    They argued that the Confederate Fleet, still making its way home from the Aifu front, was too far away. If war was declared, then the Beldross would have free reign to attack Human frontier worlds. While these officers weren’t opposed to war with the Beldross Hive (indeed, many saw it as inevitable at this point), they proposed delaying it until the Confederate Fleet was in position. The Suramo, however, could not be convinced. Ransa held that if they delayed that long, then the Beldross and the Versum would gain too much time to prepare.

    In the end, the talks broke down and caution won out. Burian refused to commit Humanity to a war they were not ready for. This refusal wound up creating a schism between the Confederacy and the WBTA. In fact, Burian’s refusal would be known among many Suramo (as well as a handful of Humans) as “Burian’s Betrayal”.

    The war came a year later. In the summer of 2185, ships belonging to the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association crossed into Beldross space. If relations had been strained between the Beldross Hive and the Versum Divine Empire, it was not enough to stop the Celimy from honouring their treaty and joining the war. The WBTA stood alone, while their former allies stood on the sideline, watching with keen eyes.

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    Within Human space, life went on. Burian’s main concern was dealing with the persistent piracy problem. Indeed, the largest shock in the years following the declaration of war was the discovery of wormhole stabilization.

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    For the longest time, the chief obstacle to safe wormhole travel had been spaghettification tearing any transiting object apart. With this problem finally solved, the time had come to put theory into practice.​

    The Wexellia system, a neighbour of Albion, was home to an unstable wormhole. Ever since its discovery, it had been theorized that it could be used as a means of long-distance transport. With the discovery of wormhole stabilization, that theory was ready to be put to the test. Much like almost a century before, a very brave crew was assembled aboard the Clarence Chant to traverse the wormhole. Nobody knew where it would lead, but everyone understood that it could change galactic politics.

    On the 6th of July, 2185, the crew of the Clarence Chant reported back, having crossed a third of the galaxy in the blink of an eye. They had emerged in the Boewei system, a WBTA system right on the border with the Versum Divine Empire.

    3L4mgp4.jpeg


    The Wexellia - Boewei wormhole connection didn’t just put Humanity at the Versum front door, it also placed the Rixi Chroniclers and the Ugarlak Forerunners practically next to each other.​

    This set of alarm bells both in the Confederacy and the Empire. Prime Minister Thibault of Canada immediately ordered the Governor of Albion to divert resources to build defences in the Wexellia system. While some argued that she was overstepping her authority, the measure was quickly ratified in the Assembly.

    Meanwhile, the Celimy took a different approach. While it is hard to get an accurate gauge of the domestic response to suddenly having Humanity on their doorstep, official channels had an undercurrent of panic. It didn’t take long before the Versum government reached out to normalize relations.

    teD8hKt.jpeg


    The Versum Divine Empire policy of denying entry to Human ships had been a long-standing policy with exactly zero consequence. There was no trade between Humans and Celimy, and the Empire was too far away for anyone to otherwise care. With Human ships literally on the border, the policy was quickly rescinded.​

    The geopolitical situation would continue to shift in the years that followed. In 2186, the Beldross Hive would claim the Shuckon system and Russalka. To most on Earth, this was a puzzling decision. The Beldross’ war with the WBTA seemed to have once again turned into a war of attrition, and Beldross expansion into Human space seemed far-fetched. Some pundits tried to rationalize it as a threat about what would happen should Humanity intervene in the conflict. But a belief that the Beldross Hive was not as rational as once thought was gaining mainstream appeal.

    One thing, however, was clear: conflict with the Beldross was looking more likely every day. In response to this, moving the Confederate Fleet’s anchorage to Light’s End on the Beldross border was proposed. The measure passed unanimously.

    The same year would also see the end of the war between the Sildor Blessed Union and the Aifu Remnant. The terms of the treaty saw eight systems being ceded to the Union, though none of them were inhabited.

    KaFzviJ.jpeg

    However, while Reverend Elder Val would extol the bravery of their soldiers and the divinity of their mission during his weekly sermons, everything was not running smoothly in the Union. The systems taken, while valuable, were not the holy prize that had been promised to the public, and especially the military. To them, the end of the war was a disappointment and tensions that had been simmering started to boil.

    Three years later, seminary students would protest the rigid dogmatism of the Reverend Elder and demand the broader involvement of the public in the governance of the Union. Reverend Elder Val and his council did not take kindly to this disruption, and wide-reaching arrests and trials were made. This had the opposite effect. Instead of cowing the public, more and more took to the streets.

    In the end, Val and his council called in the military to quell the unrest. But as massive crowds gathered around High-Cloud Temple, the military refused to respond. The council barricaded themselves in the Cloud Chapel and began issuing denouncements of the protestors and the military over the airwaves.

    A tense standoff ensued. But some enterprising protestors remembered to cut the water supply to the Cloud Chapel. Four days later Reverend Elder Val and his council surrendered, all suffering from severe dehydration. Val and his councillors were arrested, and Temal Mes was chosen as a new Reverend Elder based on a platform of democratic reform.

    beNtPMd.jpeg


    On Earth, many hoped that the new Sildor government would be friendlier towards the Confederacy. Time would tell.​

    2188 would see the end of the Fevarian War, between the Citizen Confederation of Adanir and the Fevarian Bonded Merchants. The Citizen Confederation would claim victory, retaking seven systems. However, these systems were also uninhabited, leaving major Fevarian population centres still in the hands of the Bonded Merchants. While this was disappointing to the Citizen Confederation, it was disastrous for the Merchants. The CCA had split their territory in two, severely limiting trade.

    While the Adanir had performed much better than expected, many military analysts wondered if the challenge of invading and holding entire planets was just too great. This view was strengthened when in late 2189, the Aifu Remnant and the Byrrieck People’s Union signed a status quo ante bellum peace treaty.

    The Byrrieck - Aifu War, often jokingly called the On-Paper War or Warless War, had lasted almost 12 years. In that time, exactly zero shots had been fired in anger. Neither side had managed to get fleets into a position to engage one another. With the Sildor’s exit from the war and the significant logistical challenges, the Byrrieck saw little reason to continue, and the two parties came to terms.

    With this, the Aifu Remnant was at peace for the first time in 18 years. The geopolitical feeding frenzy was over.

    But as the Aifu celebrated peace for the first time in almost two decades, Petr Burian was preparing for war.

    For months, he and his closest associates had been engaged in secret talks with the Hierarchy of Hazi. The Hazar Primarch, Vurteeg, was worried about the Trade Association's ill-advised war against the Beldross Hive. While the WBTA had managed to inflict heavy losses on their enemies, they were being pushed back. System by system had fallen to the Beldross, and they were pushing closer and closer to the Suramo core systems. The Primarch wanted to intervene, and they wanted Human assistance.

    Burian, seeing a second opportunity to deal a critical blow to one of Humanity’s major enemies, was receptive to the Primarch. Military advisors close to the Chancellor were certain that a combined operation could easily cripple both the Beldross and the Versum. Politically, however, the matter was more difficult.

    While the Beldross’ belligerence had soured the public’s opinion, there were few open calls for war. If Burian wanted the Assembly’s approval it would be hard fought and would likely tip the Beldross off about the coming attack.

    Complicating the matter were the Hazi. The Confederacy had maintained cordial relations with the Hierarchy, but their autocratic government and parasitic nature had never endeared them to most of Humanity. Entering a war with them would be an even harder sell.

    So instead, Burian turned to conspiracy.

    Gathering a group of loyal naval officers, Burian set about moving the pieces onto the board. The key player in this conspiracy was Admiral Natalie Lions, commander of the Confederate Fleet. Lions had served with distinction during the Aifu War, and upon her return to Earth, Burian recruited her to his plan.

    It had been decided that upon its return, the Confederate Fleet would be rebased to Light’s End on the Beldross border. Once in position, she would wait for a distress signal.

    The Hierarchy of Hazi were responsible for the second part of the plan. They would send a trade ship to the Confederacy, travelling through Beldross territory on the way. Once in the Orvall system, they would transmit a distress signal to Light’s End stating that they were being attacked by Beldross warships[3].

    Lions would respond to this distress signal by sending a small task force into Beldross space. As Orvall was a heavily fortified border system, it was believed that the Beldross would open fire on this intrusion. This would prompt Lions to respond in order to save her men, escalating the conflict.

    If everything went to plan, de-escalation would be impossible for both sides. The Hierarchy of Hazi would then enter the conflict in response to the supposed attack on their trade ship.

    On the 22nd of July, 2190, Admiral Lions was notified of a distress signal coming from the Orvall system. After “discussing” the situation with her officers for half an hour, she ordered a small wing to make the jump and the dominoes started falling.

    Everything went according to plan, with the Confederate Fleet taking control of the system without losing a single ship and suffering minimal casualties. Three days later, on the 25th of July, the Beldross Hive issued a statement that Humanity would be punished for their transgression. The Second War of the Dual Alliances had started.

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    The Versum Divine Empire affirmed their commitment to the alliance with the Beldross only an hour after the Beldross made their intent to punish Humanity clear.​

    Back on Earth, a well-oiled, well-orchestrated bit of theatre started. The outrage that Admiral Lions had entered Beldross space without authorization was countered by outrage at the Beldross massacring civilian traders. In the Administration Assembly, Burian argued that this was the consequence of stationing the fleet on the border. A decision that the Assembly had unanimously voted in favour of.

    When asked if he would recall Admiral Lions to face a court-martial, Burian rejected the proposal, stating that “I will not deny us one of our most capable leaders at this critical juncture”, before adding that he had ordered Lions to push deeper into Beldross space.

    The war with the Beldross Hive had just begun, and so had the war of words back on Earth.


    [1] - There is some debate as to why Burian made this declaration so soon. His defenders, both at the time and later, argue that he was genuine in his desire to protect the Queptilium. His detractors, however, argue that he merely saw which way the winds of public opinion were blowing and acted accordingly.

    [2] - This was the polite term used to address the loose coalition of Assemblymembers who favoured the use of military force to ensure Humanity’s safety. Less polite terms included “jingoists” and “imperialists”. In practice, however, the faction had many different viewpoints. While human supremacists like Alfred Gansz would attract much of the media attention, most members favoured a more defensive approach. Though they all agreed that if a war was to be fought, it was best fought far away from Human worlds.

    [3] - As part of the plan, the Hazi would show video footage of Hazars being eaten alive by Beldross Drones. The footage was real, though originating from the previous war between the Beldross and the Hazi. The footage would prove invaluable for Burian in shoring up public support during the early stages of the conflict.



    Happy New Year everyone. It is a time for new opportunities (and new wars).
     
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    The Loyalty Crisis
  • The Loyalty Crisis​

    May 2194 - Stettin - Von Kleist Gymnasium - Classroom 3-C

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    While much had changed on Earth since Humanity took to the stars, education remained remarkably similar to how it had been done for centuries. Some nations had experimented with remote education, but Germany remained steadfastly traditional (some would say old-fashioned) when it came to teaching the next generation.

    Art by Arsenixc

    “You’re not wrong to be concerned, but the situation is nowhere near as dire as the media makes it out to be,” Herr Lorenz said. “They are in the business of news, and it’s in their interest to make the news as dramatic as possible.”

    The civic class had totally derailed. Eugen had asked a question about Burian’s and von der Tann’s latest denouncements, and now all the politically interested kids were discussing the extent and limitations of the Confederacy. The rest of the class had dropped out of the conversation one by one. Two-thirds of the class was either on their slate or chatting quietly. Nicole was trying to get in some study time, but it was impossible with all the chatter.

    The bell rang with merciful finality and the class broke up. Nicole began packing her bag as Herr Lorenz reminded everyone of the due date on their latest essay. Then a shadow loomed over her just as she finished. Looking up, she saw Krystyna Sadowski, the lead striker of the girls’ football team. At the far side of the room, a couple of the other football girls were watching them.

    “Uhh…” Krystyna said, fidgeting with her hands.
    “Uhh…” Nicole wasn’t much better.

    The football girls snickered. Nicole wasn’t sure at whose expense.

    “I heard you were good at math.”
    “Um, yeah,” Nicole said. It was an understatement. She had the highest math score in the school and the teachers gave her special assignments that were university-level. For all the good it did her. Her reputation as a math nerd didn’t get her invited to many parties.

    “So… I… Um… Can you please tutor me?”
    “Huh..?”
    “I flunked the last math test we had, and it would be really bad for me if I also flunked the upcoming one soitwouldbereallyhelpfulifyoucouldmaybetutormesinceyou’rereallygoodatmath.”

    Nicole blinked a few times, trying to process the verbal barrage.“Um… sure…”
    “Thank you thank you thank you!” Krystyna said as she grabbed Nicole’s hand. “I’ll go get my stuff.”

    She ran back to the other football girls to get her things. The other girls were grinning at her as she returned. Nicole couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being set up for some kind of prank. Krystyna was one of the most popular girls in school. Athletic, good-looking looking and a social butterfly, she could make friends with anyone. Nicole couldn’t see any reason why she would want to associate with someone like her.

    It was plausible that she actually needed tutoring. Nicole had seen her flounder in math class often enough. But there had to be someone better. Someone who wasn’t social suicide.

    Krystyna returned with her bag, bright-eyed and grinning. “Wanna head to my place? It’s not far, just two stops on Line 4.”
    Nicole didn’t really have a say in the matter. Krystyna dragged her out of her seat and pulled her along with ease. The captain of the football team versus the captain of the benchwarmers.

    Krystyna chatted with the ease and enthusiasm of someone who was far too extroverted for their own good. Or maybe just Nicole’s good. She talked about everything and everyone. Apparently, Charlotte, the team’s keeper, had a cute new boyfriend and most of the squad was jealous. Not Krystyna though. And two weeks from now they were going to face off against a team from Dresden who were supposed to be pretty good. And there was this new Hungarian singer that Nicole had never heard of who was topping the charts.

    They stepped off Line 4, and Krystyna led Nicole towards a group of state housing tower blocks. The buildings had certainly seen better days, with fading paint and obvious wear on the stairs. But they also had a homey charm, with well-maintained flower beds and a few well-done murals. The feeling was amplified as Krystyna opened the door to her flat and led Nicole inside.

    The walls were covered with pictures. Most of them had Krystyna wearing a football jersey and hoisting some kind of trophy. A few had her together with a woman who looked a lot like her.
    “That’s Mom,” Krystyna said with a smile. “She’s still at work.”

    Nicole noticed that her father was nowhere to be seen. But even she had the social graces not to mention it.

    “Where does your mom work?”
    “Down at the Assembly building.”
    “Wait, your mom is a member of the Assembly?”
    Krystyna laughed. “Do you really think we would live like this if she were an Assemblywoman? Nah, she’s a receptionist.”

    Nicole didn’t have time to feel embarrassed before being dragged into a new room. Krystyna’s room, by the looks of it.
    “Just give me a moment. I just want to change out of this uniform.” She left Nicole alone as she scurried out again.

    The room looked exactly as Nicole had expected. There was a large poster of FC Bayern München’s women's team on the wall, a football jersey hung from the edge of a cabinet, and every free shelf had at least one football trophy. Well, except one. Inside a glass case was a model of a spaceship. One that Nicole recognised from her textbooks.

    “It’s the Johannes von Gmunden, in its original configuration.” Krystyna was back, wearing a tight shirt and jeans. She looked like she was glowing. “That’s how it looked when it made its first FTL jump. There were a lot of modifications made to it over the years, but I always liked the classic design.”

    Her smile was so bright, so warm… Nicole couldn’t meet her eyes and scrambled for something else to look at. Her eyes settled on her bookshelf. The Living Sea: a Photographic Guide to Russalka, Our First Steps: The Colonization of Neu Brandenburg, the shelf was full of books about space exploration. Nicole glanced back at the model.

    “You’re into spaceships and stuff?”
    “Somewhat.” Krystyna looked like she was about to laugh. “What tipped you off?”
    “Eh… I don't… So, do you want to join one of those exploration ships?”

    That made her actually laugh. “With my grades? No chance in hell. They wouldn’t even let me aboard. They’d be concerned that my stupidity is contagious. Besides, there aren't a whole lot of places left to explore. And those that are tend to have something nasty living there.”

    The mention of grades managed to bring Nicole back to her senses. She sat down on the sofa and fished her math textbook out of her bag. She opened it across her lap.
    “Um… so what were you struggling with?”

    Krystyna sat down next to her. Very close to her. Their legs were touching. Nicole’s heart rate soared.
    “Oh, pretty much everything. I’m terrible at math.” She leaned in closer, reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Nicole’s ear. “I’m not smart. Not the way you are.”

    This had to be a prank. At any moment now the rest of the football squad would burst into the room and laugh at her. Tomorrow, the whole school would be laughing at how the beautiful captain of the football team made a fool of the math nerd. She would never live it down. She would be a punchline for the rest of her days.

    “Wh–Why are you doing this?” she managed to ask as Krystyna’s hand slid down to stroke her cheek.
    “I mentioned how everyone was jealous of Charlotte’s new boyfriend? In a way, I’m no exception.” Her face was so close now. “Charlotte’s the best. She convinced me to just go for it. She’s the best wingman you could ask for, on and off the pitch.”

    Krystyna was looking deep into her eyes. If this was a prank, then Nicole didn’t care anymore.

    The ring of her slate made her leap up, sending the math book flying. She answered it without looking.
    “H- hello?”
    “Where are you?” Her father's voice was unusually harsh and direct.
    “I'm visiting someone from school. A girl,” she added at the last second. She immediately regretted saying it.

    On the sofa, Krystyna was leaning back, clearly enjoying the show. Her catlike smile made it clear that this little game would resume the moment she hung up. And Nicole realised, more and more, that she was both terrified and looking forward to it.

    She stepped over to the window to clear her thoughts. She still had to deal with her father.

    “I'm at one of the state housing blocks, along Line 4,” She said, managing to keep her voice level.
    “Line 4? Damnit, that's right in the path… Nicole, stay put! Don't leave the building until they say it's safe.”

    It slowly dawned on her that her father's tone wasn't angry. It was scared. She was about to ask what was going on when something caught her attention outside the window.

    “Dad, why are there tanks in the street?”

    A column of tanks and armoured personnel carriers were rolling up the street, soldiers riding on top. They were moving at full speed towards the centre of Stettin.
    “It’s that damn fool, Burian,” her father said. “He’s taken things too far. Von der Tann sent in the army.”

    Krystyna had stepped up to Nicole and was looking over her shoulder to the street below.
    “Dad, what do we do?” Nicole asked, her voice cracking.
    “I don’t… Just stay put where you are. Whatever you do, don’t go outside.”

    “--mechanized units are moving into the city. As you can see, the vanguard has already reached the Assembly Hall and has begun to surround it.”
    Krystyna had turned on the holographic projector and was staring with wide-eyed disbelief as soldiers were taking up position in the streets just a short tram ride away.
    “There has so far not been any statement from either Chancellor von der Tann or Chancellor Burian. Nor has the Indochinese Federation made any statement regarding the message from the Hồ Chí Minh.”

    The news presenter prattled on as Krystyna fumbled to get her slate out of her pocket. With frantic presses, she made a call.
    “Mama?” she shouted as soon as it connected.

    Krystyna began talking in Polish too fast for Nicole to keep up. But she didn’t need to understand it. The fear and anguish in her voice told her all she needed to know.

    “Listen, Nicole,” her father said. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stay put. Don’t go outside. I’ll come find you as soon as it’s safe. Promi–”
    The line went silent. So did the projector, the image showing a “Missing Source” image.

    “Mama? Mama!”
    Except for Krystyna talking into the silent slate, it was eerily quiet. Tears were starting to run down her face.
    “I… I have to go. Mom… Mom’s at the Assembly building. I…”

    Krystyna turned towards the door. Without thinking, Nicole leapt forward and grabbed her hand.
    “You can’t! We have to stay put. It’s not safe.”
    “But my mom’s there! She’s all I…”
    “Please… Don’t go… Stay…”

    Krystyna seemed to deflate, her knees giving way. Nicole rushed forward to grab her and the two of them stumbled to the floor. Krystyna began sobbing loudly and Nicole hugged her tight. The world shrank. The only people existing right now were Nicole and Krystyna. The only sound was Krystyna’s sobs.

    Her sobs, and the roar of jets flying overhead.

    * * *​

    While the start of the Beldross war was a political knot nobody was quite able (or willing) to untangle, militarily it was remarkably straight forward. The Beldross’ static defences at the border had been built when the main threat to the Hive was the Lavis Republic. Since then, the forts had mostly been left to decay, with the occasional upgrade intended to keep them at least relevant.

    However, the concept of static defences had since the end of the Lavis Wars fallen by the wayside. Warships were bringing more and more firepower to bear in an agile package that could hit where the enemy was weak. There were still some strategists who argued that static defences could supplement a fleet on the defence, but they were increasingly a minority.

    This was not an option available to the Beldross. The bulk of their fleets were busy invading the Welfon-Boordar Trade Association and what few ships were present were mostly corvettes and destroyers. Facing off against a fleet built around the much larger Human cruisers, the static defences stood little chance. The Confederate Fleet smashed through the border forts and set a course deeper into Hive space. And unlike the Aifu war, Humanity knew where they were going: Na’Dall.

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    Na’Dall, in the Thaaram system, was a small, underdeveloped Beldross outpost world. It would serve as the test site for Humanity’s latest military doctrine. Officially known as Planetary Containment, it would enter the history books under its much more popular nickname: the Bottle Doctrine.​

    The invasion of the Ring during the Second Lavis War had been a massive undertaking, in material, personnel and planning. The invasion had only been possible thanks to total orbital supremacy, relatively short supply lines and the concentration of enemy forces. The Lavis Republic did not have far-flung colonies that could serve as bases for counterattacks, allowing Humanity to focus all its effort on a single target. This was unlikely to be the case when facing a different enemy.

    Humanity needed a better way to deal with populated enemy systems. This need was accelerated during the Aifu war, where supply lines were the furthest they had ever been. That war had ended before boots were needed on the ground, but the issue remained.

    The solution was Planetary Containment, or the Bottle Doctrine. Developed by the General Staff of the German Heer, the doctrines suggested that instead of invading, occupying, and holding an entire planet, they could instead conduct a series of high-impact raids against targets critical to reaching orbit and space travel. After these were destroyed, they could then target the planetary administration, either forcing a surrender or installing a collaborator government. With the planet subdued and “bottled up”, the military could then leave, leaving any counter-insurgency duties to the locals. Should the local government fall or betray Humanity, they would still be trapped on the planet. Rebuilding the infrastructure needed to achieve spaceflight without outside assistance would take decades, if it were possible at all. More than enough time for the Confederacy to prosecute the rest of the war.

    When the Confederate Fleet arrived in orbit above Na’Dall, the theory was put into practice. Orbital bombardment began immediately, targeting critical infrastructure across the planet. However, much of said infrastructure was deep underground in the warrens. When the ground troops finally arrived, there had not been as much progress as had been expected.

    Regardless, the order was given to go ahead. Intelligence suggested a small Beldross fleet was operating in the area, hoping to intercept supply ships supporting the ground troops.

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    Despite Humanity’s overwhelming numerical superiority, the Beldross managed to mount an effective defence. Human casualties were much higher than projected.​

    In a series of targeted raids across the planets, Human troops struck against critical infrastructure. Most raids were brief and violent, the longest lasting only thirteen hours. In their wake, Humanity left vast destruction. Sometimes specific factories were destroyed. Other times entire warrens were collapsed. While casualties were higher than what had been expected, the results were exactly what the General Staff had envisioned. When the last Human soldier left Na’Dall’s surface, the planet had been reduced to a pre-spaceflight state.

    This was just in time, as the Beldross fleet that had been hounding Human supply lines entered the system. While its goal was no doubt to disrupt the raids, the Confederate Fleet, still patrolling the system, was easily able to intercept the fleet. While the battle was decidedly one-sided, it could hardly be called decisive.

    The Beldross fleet was much smaller than the Confederate fleet, both in terms of numbers and the tonnage of individual ships. Built around small corvettes and destroyers, the Beldross ships often made use of dangerous hyperspace jumps to disengage. The Beldross left Humanity in control of the field, but able to repair, rearm and fight again.

    The clearest instance of this came during the Battle of Zempek, where the Confederate Fleet managed to corner a significant Beldross task force. But out of the near two dozen ships engaged, only one was actually destroyed.

    This lack of a decisive victory began to strain Chancellor Burian. He had burned a great deal of political capital starting the war, much of it on the assumption that the Beldross would be unable to resist. And while in some ways this assumption was proving correct, every week that passed without good news gave more ammunition to the opposition.

    The first blow against him came from an unexpected direction. In early 2192, the Connisthian Hegemony once again sent ships into Aifu Remnant space. The Aifu Remnant, predictably, issued condemnations and closed borders to anyone it considered an enemy, Humanity included.

    The invasion did not spark any major debate within the Galactic Council. This was largely down to a lack of confidence with the Council and the fact that the galactic community had grown accustomed to intermittent border conflicts. Nobody expected the Galactic Council to be able to stop any war, so most governments would instead just issue their own proclamations and condemnations.

    Following the Connisthian invasion, the Citizen Confederation of Adanir issued one such condemnation. And while mostly targeted at the Connisthians, the Adanir also condemned other autocratic warmongers. Humanity was among them, and Chancellor Burian was mentioned by name.

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    By this point in galactic history, closing borders to nations on the other side of the galaxy had become a standard method for making a diplomatic statement without permanently damaging relations.​

    This was not something Burian or his PR team had prepared for. For months he’d fended off accusations of overstepping his authority, mostly by invoking emergency powers that dated from the time of the Second Lavis War. Burian’s critics would argue that those powers were reserved for an existential threat to Humanity, not a border war against a far weaker neighbour. Now, the Adanir said out loud what many among the opposition were already thinking[1].

    Burian and his allies' first instinct was to dismiss this as hypocrisy. The Adanir had been involved in several wars with their neighbours, so they hardly had any moral high ground to stand on. This proved to be an unforced error on Burian’s part. While most of Humanity didn’t care much about what happened in the Galactic North, the Citizen Confederation of Adanir’s attempt to retake lost worlds was one struggle that resonated with the common citizen. The fight had attained a certain degree of romanticism. So accusing them of hypocrisy fell flat.

    This misstep, however, was not enough to derail Burian. The Confederate Fleet reported minor victory after minor victory all along the Beldross frontier. Several smaller colony worlds had been sieged and “bottled up”. The advance was starting to slow due to limited intel, but the goal was still to find the Beldross homeworld and siege it.

    But here, Burian found his most implacable foe. Not an alien empire hell-bent on Humanity’s destruction. Not a cabal of opposing politicians eager to bring him down. He found the Daturi Expanse.

    The Daturi Expanse was a large nebula, made mostly from various exotic materials that Humanity had only discovered after taking to the stars. Humanity had encountered similar nebulae before, and while they presented some difficulties to navigate, it wasn’t a major obstacle as long as one possessed specialized equipment or precise charts. Unfortunately, the Confederate Fleet had neither.

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    The Daturi Expanse effectively cut Beldross space in two. While the Confederacy had some idea what was on the other side, what waited inside the nebulae was a mystery.​

    Lacking the ability to navigate the Expanse, Burian’s immediate suggestion was that the fleet simply go around it, cutting through Welfon-Boordar Trade Association territory. This would be a detour, but much faster than equipping a ship with the necessary equipment to traverse and chart the Expanse. Hopefully, this would also give an opportunity to assist the besieged WBTA.

    The Confederate Fleet was four weeks underway when a small raiding fleet emerged from the Expanse, retaking systems and causing havoc amongst the supply lines. Much to Admiral Lions’ frustration, she was forced to turn around and track this fleet down. This frustration only intensified when the raiders fled back into the Expanse.

    Exactly why this became the moment that led to the Loyalty Crisis is something endlessly debated by historians. Some, like Dr. Herzog, argue that this military blunder emboldened the opposition, who had been growing more outspoken ever since the Adanir condemnation. Others, such as Smith and Ramberg, attribute the rapid escalation of the crisis to Burian’s declining mental health due to stress. Others combine both factors, along with numerous other smaller events, creating a perfect storm that swept across the Confederacy.

    Following the retreat of the raiders, Burian ordered the Confederate Fleet to once again travel around the Expanse. This was met with immediate pushback, both from the opposition, as well as Burian’s own. There was nothing to prevent the Beldross from merely waiting a few weeks before returning to causing havoc. Burian’s critics expanded on this, claiming that Burian was fighting the war “by the seat of his pants”, without any real plan beyond finding the Beldross homeworld and sieging it.

    Burian, for his part, claimed to have a plan but was not willing to share it, citing operational security. So he ordered Admiral Lions to once again plot a course around the Daturi Expanse. This was controversial within the fleet, with many internal messages questioning the wisdom of this move. But Admiral Lions was firmly in Burian’s camp and set the fleet moving once more.

    Three weeks later, the raiding fleet returned. And this time it brought along reinforcements. 26 corvettes and 8 destroyers emerged from the Daturi Expanse, the largest Beldross fleet seen so far during the war. Once again, Lions was forced to turn around, and once again the raiders fled back into the Expanse after causing havoc[2].

    Once again the opposition criticised how the war was being fought and demanded to know what Burian’s plan was. Burian once again declined to share and, after a brief debate with Admiral Lions and other key allies, ordered the fleet to once again travel around the Daturi Expanse.

    This was the final straw. The German Chancellor Emillia von der Tann, who had been elected a few months after the outbreak of the war, ordered the German contingent of the Confederate Fleet to disregard orders from the Confederate High command, and instead only follow orders from the Raumstreitkräfte. Russian President Lebedev followed suit within the hour.

    Burian and his allies immediately sent out countermanding orders, then locked down access to fleet communications. When the Chinese tried to send similar orders just a day later, they found themselves unable to do so.

    Von der Tann and Lebedev immediately issued a joint denunciation of Burian, demanding that he restore control and communications with the fleets. Burian refused, citing his emergency powers. A war of words ensued.

    In the Confederate Fleet, the conflicting orders ensured that confusion reigned. Admiral Lions was ready to continue her mission, but both the German and Russian contingents of her fleet were refusing orders until they had spoken to their respective governments. This demand was not met. Slowly, the German and Russian ships would move out of formation, taking up position around a local gas giant and a tense standoff ensued. Meanwhile, the Chinese component tried repeatedly to contact their high command. When this failed, the Chinese ships took up position far away from both sides and declared neutrality.

    Two days passed with tensions rising in the fleet. Thanks to the lack of news from the fleets, few on Earth realized just how bad the situation was. But internal fleet communication had not been blocked, so everyone inside the Confederate Navy knew how dire things were. So when Burian announced in a fleet-wide memo that “subversive elements inside the Confederacy had compromised their communication channels”, Commodore Hoang of the Hồ Chí Minh was sceptical. Returning to Earth from an anti-piracy patrol[3] when he received the message, he also demanded to speak to someone from his government. When this demand was stonewalled, he conferred with the other members of his task force.

    The anti-piracy task force was just eight ships, all of them of older designs. But with the Confederate Fleet deep in Beldross space, these eight ships were the strongest military asset within a month’s travel of Earth. Commodore Hoang and his captains agreed that if the Confederacy refused to let them speak to their leaders, then they had no choice but expediting their return to Earth and ask in person.

    At cruise speed it would take them twelve days to reach Earth orbit. However, Hoang sent a message using the much slower, much older buoy system, which would only need three days to reach Earth. In the message, Hoang expressed “concern about the current situation”, among other veiled threats, and requested to speak to the Chairman of the Indochinese Federation. The message was sent with only the most basic of diplomatic encryption, ensuring that the message would be read by everyone who mattered.

    On Earth, tensions between Burian and von der Tann were close to boiling over. Burian steadfastly refused to let anyone contact the fleets. Von der Tann, meanwhile, was all but calling Burian a traitor. So the news that a fleet of syndicalists were cruising towards Earth pushed the situation past the breaking point. Less than ninety minutes after Hoang’s message reached Earth, von der Tann ordered the 1st Guards Grenadiers to enter Stettin.

    Acting fast and taking up position surrounding the Assembly Hall, the German army trapped Burian along with most of the Assembly members inside.


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    A cavalry scout from the 1st Guards Grenadiers in position during the siege of the Assembly Hall. The 1st Guards was considered a prestigious unit, being able to trace a direct line back to the Napoleonic Wars.

    Art by Michal Petras

    Despite being surrounded, Burian did not seem to realize the severity of the situation. Within minutes of the first army units arriving, he contacted Admiral Lions to inform her of the situation. When she asked him what he was planning to do, he responded by ordering her to return to Earth. Lions, incredulous, responded that she was busy with her own standoff and that even if she weren’t, it would take more than a year to return to Earth.

    Inside the Assembly, people began deserting Burian, both literally and figuratively. At first, a few Assemblymembers slipped out of the building and surrendered to the military. Then, as Burian started to discuss methods of resisting von der Tann, people started realizing that Burian had lost the plot. Even his staunchest allies saw no way to effectively resist the German Army, and few were willing to die for Burian.

    The end came after Burian spoke to Commodore Hoang. The exchange was not recorded, and accounts differ. Hoang claims that he reiterated that all he wanted was to speak to a representative of his government. Burian, meanwhile, claims that Hoang threatened him with orbital bombardment. Regardless of the details, the result was the same. After an eighteen-hour standoff, Burian agreed to resign from his position. The Loyalty Crisis had been resolved, and without any casualties[4].

    With Burian removed from office, the next question was who to replace him. Back channel talks between the Great Powers had been abuzz for the duration of the standoff. The Canadians especially were furious that von der Tann had acted without consulting anyone else, while Germany, Russia and China regarded the public silence of Canada with significant suspicion.

    In the end, it was agreed that Canadian Assemblywoman Jennifer Pelletier would serve as an interim Chancellor while the Great Powers and the Confederacy worked out a more permanent solution. Pelletier was selected as a compromise between the Great Powers. Her citizenship would hopefully smooth things over with the Canadians, and while she was considered a capable administrator, she had never been described as overflowing with ambition. This made her acceptable to von der Tann and Lebedev, who were naturally concerned about empowering a new Burian.

    In the end, Petyr Burian faced no charges for his actions. Indeed, many legal scholars have commented that it is unclear what laws he could have been charged with violating. The crisis had in part been the result of unclear limits on the Chancellor’s authority[5]. He retired from political life, spending most of his time in his native Slovakia. Though he would give frequent lectures and talks where he defended his actions.

    Burian remains one of the most controversial figures in the history of the Confederacy of Sol. Both historians and laypeople debate his actions endlessly, and history students commonly quip that if “you tell me your opinion of Petyr Burian, and I can tell exactly who you vote for”. In North America in particular, Burian is often compared and contrasted with another notorious political figure: Huey Long.

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    Huey Long was the last President of the United States of America, whose controversial election and subsequent hardline attitude against American syndicalists led directly to the Second American Civil War. His courting of far-right anti-democratic forces while still being democratically elected led to his epithet of “The Democratic Autocrat”.​

    Burian is also curious due to being the first Human politician to become notorious outside of Human space. Amongst the Suramo, both inside the WBTA and without, Burian has been widely condemned due to “Burian’s Betrayal”. But where Humanity debated whether Burian had overstepped his authority or not, the Suramo would condemn him for his timidity.

    While Burian would not be in power when it happened, his refusal to attack the Beldross earlier would lead to the greatest humanitarian disaster the galaxy had ever seen.



    [1] - The Citizen Confederation of Adanir's fanatical dedication to republicanism often put them at odds with the Confederacy of Sol. While Humanity had tried to explain that the German and Chinese monarchies were not absolute monarchies, this explanation did not satisfy the Fevarians. Despite this, their firm dedication to democracy in an otherwise very autocratic galaxy meant that they polled very well among Humans when asked which alien species they had the best impression of.

    [2] - It is unclear if the Beldross were aware of the internal divisions of the Confederacy, or if the raids were pure opportunism on their part. Regardless, the raids were incredibly effective at disrupting Human operations in the area. Lessons learned during the war would be studied at the various naval war colleges of Earth as an example of how to fight an asymmetrical war in space.

    [3] - The Indochinese Federation had refused to participate in the Beldross War, much like they had refused to participate in the Aifu War. They spent both wars doing anti-piracy patrols. This suited the Confederate high command just fine, as piracy remained a significant problem and worsened during wartime.

    [4] - The only person hurt during the siege was Corporal Egon Singer. Singer was a scout tasked with observing the Assembly building from the roof of a nearby building, but he fell while climbing a ladder, breaking his leg on impact. He made a full recovery,

    [5] - A similar issue arose with Emillia von der Tann. Some of her political opponents railed against her for deploying the army against Burian, but using the army domestically was well within her rights under various German emergency powers. Formally, the issue was considered a domestic matter.
     
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