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Chapter Twelve - The Second Varelviv War
  • DOWSecondVISWar.jpg

    Director-General Telnik’s plan in action.

    A Grand Adventure

    The TUG plunged itself into war on September 12, 251. In the previous several years, the administration had attempted to assemble a coalition for its operations, billing their aggressive action to other regional powers as a proactive anti-slavery campaign. Throughout the 240s, this approach had led to deepening cooperation with the cyggans, who were themselves frequent targets of varelviv slave raids. Though the TUG’s strategic planning was underpinned by the assumption that the cyggans would not agree to a full alliance, Director-General Telnik hoped that the emperor Slugradeb would recognize the opportunity presented to him and launch a coordinated invasion of the VIS. His hopes were dashed when the emperor announced a renewed war with the Seban Commonwealth in February 249. The cyggans had been at war with the sebans for most of Slugradeb’s long reign, and as he neared the end, he wished to prove his worth in combat once more. [1] His foreign ministry was apologetic, but they were mere advisors to the unitary authority embedded in the person of the emperor. They were instead only able to offer the TUG stronger cooperation agreements in the form of scientific knowledge-sharing and very favorable terms for bilateral trade opportunities. This was a poor substitute for a full alliance, but the Director-General appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Any assistance, even tacit, for the coming war would be welcomed.

    The administration, recognizing its inability to find a partner for the invasion of varelviv space, began to look further afield for diplomatic arrangements. Though some species were receptive to the vailon overtures, none were yet willing to support the TUG in their war efforts. Telnik still hoped for a strategic alliance with the cyggans, though he recognized that this may have to wait for a new emperor to take the throne on Cyggia. Thinking of long-term goals, the director-general began to focus diplomatic efforts on regimes that would be amenable to cooperation with both the vailons and the cyggans. A likely candidate was the Pithok Confederacy, holding numerous star systems due west of the galactic core and sharing a hostile border with the sebans. The pithoks hailed from the densely jungled Thokkia. The society of the arthropoid species was structured around units known as “families” – nomadic clans comprised of millions of individuals, which could generally trace their lineages back millenia, to the earliest proto-societies. Each family functioned as an autonomous political entity, developing their own cultures and engaging in intense competition for status. Over time, a small number of families were able to consolidate wealth and power; though they still competed amongst themselves for primacy, they had largely been able to exclude other families from rising in the ranks for several centuries. The Aspinaca family currently held power, having successfully put their own candidate into the position of High Commissioner. Xybber Aspinaca was a willing servant, seeking to expand pithok hegemony in the quadrant in order to feed the extensive factories of the Aspinaca economic empire. In this, Telnik saw an opportunity, opening negotiations with the High Commissioner on the potential for future cooperation. The pithok leader was encouraging but noncommittal; the delegation left Thokkia with the belief that a show of good faith towards the pithoks would dispose them to treat favorably with the TUG in the future. While this offered little help to Telnik with the immediate prospect of war, he recognized the need for the vailons to forge deeper diplomatic ties across the galaxy. On May 7, 250, the administration issued a formal announcement that the TUG would provide material support to the Pithok Confederacy, in the event of unprovoked hostilities against the arthropoids. This was received favorable on Thokkia, and the ruling family transmitted promises of future agreements via their permanent embassy on Tebazed.

    On December 1, 250, the long-awaited upgrades to Starbase Con Viab were completed, turning the station into the strongest defensive bastion in the quadrant, aside from those rumored to exist inside the borders of the Chroniclers deep in the galactic core. By mid-year 251, Task Force Mirasma was in place to begin its invasion of varelviv space. Everything was ready for the plan to proceed, save for Telnik’s own confidence. The director-general was engaged in frantic negotiations with the Commonwealth, seeking to draw them into the impending war. He already had the agreement of the hissma to provide material support; now he simply had to convince the mith-fell to aid the vailons as well in order to bring the full might of the federation fleet into play against the varelviv. The mith-fell had no reason to love the slavers themselves, having been the targets of the Great Raid of 223; moreover, the militant crusaders for democracy believed in using their might to bring liberty to all individuals across the galaxy. However, the Commissariat was still licking its wounds after a disastrous preemptive war of its own with the saathids. Instead of cutting down the threat, the Commonwealth Navy was forced to fall back, losing contact with a colony on the border between the two empires. The fate of the mith-fell on the colony was unknown, but one could only guess at the horrors which they must have endured at the hands of the genocidal saathids. It was not a time for the Commonwealth to return to a war footing, and the Commissary-General was hesitating to even offer implicit backing for “this grand adventure of yours”, as he termed it in one communication with Telnik. The vailon persisted in his entreaties, but to no avail; the mith-fell refused to budge over the course of three months and numerous high-level negotiating sessions. Telnik eventually realized that his efforts were futile, and in September he unilaterally set in motion his war to end the varelviv threat.

    I do not believe you will find any support among the mith-fell populace for this grand adventure of yours. We may respect your intentions, but this does not seem a promising course of action to us…

    - Commissary-General Plume of Khaki, excerpt from letter transmitted to Director-General Telnik, July 23, 251

    The war began with a major success. The TUG had achieved complete strategic surprise; Task Force Mirasma entered VIS space unopposed and was able to operate for several months before the varelviv fleet eventually made its presence known. After pushing through Ushminaria, the task force bore down on its first major target, Starbase Bihjall, the site of a strategic blunder by the esteemed Admiral Piriam in the previous war; its defenses were disabled and it was occupied by vailon marines within the first two months of the war. Command and control specialists moved in quickly and set up a forward operating base on the starbase, turning it into a major staging area for the early period of the war. By the end of the year, logistical lines of support were set up, and the task force set out to secure the surrounding star systems. Over the course of the next twelve months, the fleet seized Veyer, a dead-end system just outside the spiral arm, and then Arrakis, up-spiral from Bihjall. In April of 253, the varelviv finally counterattacked, with an assault on the TUG position at Arrakis. The two VIS fleets involved mistimed their attacks, one arriving in-system several weeks before the other; Mirasma dispatched this first wave with ease, destroying fourteen ships, including one destroyer, for the loss of only two corvettes; however, moderate damage to most of the other ships necessitated a retreat in the face of the second wave. Admiral Piriam pushed his ships’ engines to the max, racing to reach the safety of Con Viab, at points mere hours ahead of the chasing VIS fleet. Aided by a delay to retake the outpost at Ushminaria, the task force reached Starbase Con Viab, ahead of the varelvivi and relatively unscathed, in April 254.

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    The First Battle of Arrakis confirmed vailon intelligence reports about the relative powers of the two fleets.

    Losses

    The tactical retreat by the fleet necessitated a temporary withdrawal from Bihjall. The fleet left behind a legion of marines, with instructions to fortify the station and hold out until the task force could relieve them. Though the VIS fleet did manage to disable the starbase’s defenses while the vailons undertook repairs, they were only able to seize portions of the station’s interiors before the task force returned in December to relieve the siege. After a hard-fought battle against the larger blockading fleet, TF Mirasma regained control of the system, taking heavy casualties but inflicting still greater punishment on the varelvivi. Over the next five years, the fleet would maintain its forward base at the starbase, as Piriam attempted to execute his mandate and consolidate control over the cluster, territory which had been surrendered to the varelviv in the previous conflict. Most of 255 was spent conducting repairs and reinforcing the fleet. The industrial sector was on a war footing, and the replenishment rate for ships began to outstrip the rate of losses in battle. The Naval Staff predicted that the TUG fleet would begin to outnumber their adversaries in combat soon. This prediction was borne out in a second engagement near Arrakis, where TF Mirasma soundly defeated a similarly sized VIS force.

    Signs of a downturn in fortune were beginning to appear, however. Disturbing rumors reached Telnik’s desk across 255 and 256 about Admiral Piriam’s condition, suggesting that the war hero had seen a rapid decline in mental and physical abilities. Though all reports from the Naval Staff denied the rumors, the seemingly lethargic performance of the task force under Piriam's command provided at least anecdotal evidence. By the end of 256, five years into the war, only Veyer, Bihjall, and Arrakis were in vailon hands. The VIS still held the remainder of the cluster, and the fleet had been unable to put any pressure on the varelviv core worlds beyond. Telnik, concerned about the conduct of the war, attempted to find out the truth of the matter, first via official channels, and later by sending aides to have informal discussions with sub-flag officers posted to the Naval Staff. He also assigned some linguists in the Sociology section of the Science Directory to study Piriam’s messages back to headquarters on Starbase Tebza. While none of these avenues offered concrete evidence or firsthand knowledge, in total they all seemed to point to the admiral’s increasing frailty and inability to perform the job of commander of the fleet.

    Matters came to a head in early 257. While in Sedrin, Telnik prepared to force the Admiral to retire, even in the face of stern political opposition, at the front a VIS fleet was detected transiting the Prothon system. The varelviv were preparing another counterattack at Arrakis. The attacking force were split into three waves; once again a failure of coordination allowed TF Mirasma to engage with smaller groups separate from the main fleet. In the first two engagements of the Third Battle of Arrakis, the task force was able to pick off several corvettes, giving the vailons an advantage in numbers for the main engagement, which occurred on April 17. With more ships, and more effective ships, this should have proved to be an easy fight. For Admiral Piriam, it instead proved to be the end of a long and distinguished career. Afterwards, different theories about the cause were bandied about; some believed that Piriam’s age finally caught up with him and overwhelmed the effects of the drugs, while others suggested that his supply of drugs had been disrupted and he was going through an intense withdrawal. Regardless of the particular cause, when a glancing blow from a coilgun rattled the ship, something snapped between the admiral’s horns. The official report from the captain of the flagship stated that the Admiral became unresponsive, refusing (or unable) to acknowledge anyone speaking to him, simply standing on the bridge and not saying a word. After a few minutes of chaos, Vice Admiral Valdrig den Hullos, commanding Squadron Two of the task force, declared Admiral Piriam to be incapacitated and therefore relieved of duty; Admiral Hullos herself took overall command of Mirasma for the remainder of the battle. The fleet was lucky not to suffer too badly from the loss of its commander; for the several minutes when nobody was in command, fleet cohesion broke apart and three varelviv ships made it inside the vailon formation, causing heavy damage to one corvette and moderate damage to several others, but the hole was plugged quickly once Hullos took charge and the remainder of the enemy fleet was driven off. In the end, TF Mirasma only lost the one ship, destroying eleven VIS ships during the day, but the greater loss by far was the esteemed Admiral, who did not recover from his fugue state for several days after the battle. When he woke up and learned of his actions, he gracefully accepted retirement, allowing his former aide Hullos to take over the post of Admiral of the Fleet.

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    The Third Battle of Arrakis was a bittersweet victory for the vailon task force.

    Admiral Hullos had a reputation for caution, one she very nearly obliterated with her quick thinking during the Third Battle of Arrakis. It reemerged rapidly in the aftermath. Having long been a dissident against the war planning of the administration, she wanted to regroup at Starbase Bihjall and reevaluate the TUG’s options in the war. To her, it was clear that the vailons were, if not losing, then certainly not winning either. As she had predicted before the war on numerous occasions, one task force, however much stronger than the VIS forces it was, had been unable to consolidate control over the cluster and ward off counterattacks at the same time. Instead of pursuing such a foolhardy idea, Hullos proposed retreating all the way to the Con Viab bastion and patiently replaying the strategy from the previous war. They could trade space for time, and use the time to continue the naval construction program. Within a few years, the TUG fleet would outnumber the VIS fleet in addition to outgunning them, and the fleet could split into two task forces – the stronger of which would seek out and destroy the varelviv fleets while the weaker would seize lightly defended outposts.

    While this plan had its proponents in Telnik’s inner circle, the Director-General himself and those closest to him vehemently opposed it. The VIS had clearly been surprised by the invasion, and the current strategy had kept them off-balance so far. The lack of coordination displayed by the varelviv had led to several easy victories for the vailon forces in the first years of the war. The admiral’s ideas were not completed dismissed; Telnik believed that the forces on hand in 257/8 were enough to execute the strategy. He ordered a detachment of ships to be split off from the main fleet and form Task Force Kampas, whose command he gave to Admiral Hullos, sidelining her from future involvement in the major events. He promoted an ally from the Naval Board, Modrig den Harak, to take command of the main fleet. Under Harak, TF Mirasma would be tasked with driving on Viverva and drawing varelviv attention, and most importantly, fleets, away from the smaller task force, so that it could capture the outlying star systems in the border region. This plan appeared to be working through 258; by the end of the year, TF Mirasma had taken Prothon, defeating several small detachments in the process, and blockaded the only hyperlane route to the front from the VIS home cluster, while TF Kampas was nearing the former TUG outpost at Turim, which was expected to be retaken with minimal effort.

    But in 259, the first truly organized resistance from the VIS navy made its presence known. Two large fleets, no more than a day apart, were detected en route to Prothon. Harak withdrew his fleet to Starbase Bihjall, where he planned to make a stand backed by the guns of the station. The varelviv fleets combined, and, outnumbering Mirasma by 50%, bore in on the fleet’s position in orbit of the star. A fierce battle ensued; the vailons inflicted significant damage on the varelvivi ships, but in the end the weight of numbers was telling, and Harak was forced to retreat, lest the entire task force be overwhelmed by the assault. The starbase itself held out for a few months, but this time no reinforcements were in the region, and the command center finally fell in February 260. Eight-plus years of hard work, winning nearly every battle, had left the TUG in the same position in which it had started.


    Footnotes
    [1] That the emperor himself would never go near a battle was no sticking point for the propaganda machine on Cyggia.
    [2] At the outset of the Second Battle of Bihjall, TF Mirasma stood at 32 ships strong, eight destroyers and 24 corvettes. It attacked a VIS fleet of twelve destroyers and 27 corvettes. The vailons were able to destroy fourteen enemy ships, losing only nine of their own, before forcing the defenders to retreat.
    [3] This will be elaborated upon in a subsequent chapter.
    [4] Telnik offered to keep the old admiral on as a member of the College and an informal advisor to the Navy Board, but Piriam declined, preferring the quiet of obscurity to live out his days. He died five years later, largely a forgotten figure, though later historians would resurrect his legacy.
    [5] In five days of near-continuous combat before being forced to retreat, TF Mirasma lost three destroyers and ten corvettes, while the VIS fleet lost a total of four destroyers and nine corvettes in the two phases of the battle.
     
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    Chapter Thirteen - Science at Mid-Century
  • By the middle of the 3rd century, vailon technological achievement had far surpassed the predictions of even the most optimistic observers at the dawn of the space age. In fields ranging from artificial intelligence to biology, scientists had made significant advances that unlocked new possibilities for the TUG.

    During this period, AI researchers began exploring the applications of advanced machine learning techniques from the early decades of the space age. By 215, simple AI programs were handling most administrative work within the Science Directory, so that scientists could spend more of their own time on their research. Automated shipboard routines allowed for the construction of larger, more efficient colonization ships, which could bring more resources to bear on developing new settlements on colonized planets. AI-backed combat simulations not only provided improved training for naval officers, but also led to the development of dedicated combat computers that extended the capabilities of individual ships in specialized roles. As incremental improvements continued into the 250s, experts projected that major breakthroughs were imminent; in the coming years, one area in which researchers were confident of making a breakthrough was robotics and autonomous machinery.

    Xenobiology was the fastest-growing field in the first half of the 3rd century, as the vailon understanding of life expanded beyond the narrow horizons of their homeworld. Formal projects like the habitable world survey, an analysis and classification of exoplanet biomes that was completed in 224, and the ongoing cataloging of alien fauna, provided exabytes of data for researchers on Tebazed. These studies contributed to a major breakthrough in 216, as autobiologists successfully isolated the DNA of vailon cells and began mapping genomes for the first time. In the early years, this process was expensive and slow; however, once genomists began making use of the rapidly advancing AI programs developed by the Philosophy Section, genome mapping became commonplace; by the late 240s, tailored genetic treatments had become the norm, including the replacement of defective organs with cloned tissue.

    The 250s saw almost a complete turnover in the scientific leadership of the TUG, as the researchers and explorers who saw the birth of the interstellar age began to retire or die. Brief biographies of some of the new administrators and exploration ship captains can be found below.

    JargimDenVathrag.jpg

    Jargim den Vathrag was an influential figure in the Telnik administration.

    Jargim den Vathrag – Vathrag was born in 220 in the Bessemar megalopolis on the continent of Lopinira. From a young age, she was a precocious student, demonstrating a deep intellectual curiosity that manifested itself in the wide-ranging scope of her interests. After graduating in 240, she was posted to a position as an analyst in the Director-General’s office; after Telnik took office the following year, she quickly demonstrated a facility with managing the vast and complex workload that caused many of her colleagues to burn out under the new administration. By the middle of the decade, Vathrag had become a key advisor in Telnik’s inner circle, with a portfolio that focused primarily on scientific research and economic management. In 250, the head of the Sociology Section in the Science Directory, Pudrig den Vagors, announced his retirement at the age of 86, and Vathrag was appointed to the position, becoming the youngest vailon in a century posted to a sub-cabinet level assignment. In 255, she was formally incorporated into Telnik’s cabinet as the Director of Science.

    Vadrig den Boknar – Boknar was the eldest of the new scientific leadership of the TUG, and she would spend most of her career out of the limelight. She was born in 200 in a small city in Mastadar, in the mountainous border region with Hasar. Hydro power was the basis for the regional economy; rivers flowing out of the alpine heights, carving massive gorges as they went, created perfect sites for the huge turbines that powered half the continent. Growing up amidst so many engineers, it was no surprise that she developed an acute attention to detail that would stay with her for her entire life. Her first assignment after graduating was as a junior researcher on an archaeology expedition to Turim I, investigating the ruins of a First League science base. By the end of the project, three years later, she had discovered her love for ancient civilizations; but spent the next 25 years on Tebazed, overseeing various research projects and applying for every exploration ship posting that came up. Finally, in 248, she got her chance to be on the cutting edge. She won an assignment to the staff of Raldirm den Hullos, captain of the ISS Cennergion, who was in need of a new archaeologist as he prepared for an exploratory swing to the eastern edge of the galaxy. In 250, when Hullos died, she was elected by the crew to be their new captain, on the basis of her acumen and true love of discovery. For the ensuing decade, she commanded the ship as it explored far-flung reaches of the galaxy; her most famous discovery in the 250s was of the entities known as void clouds, first detected near the X-941 Singularity. Based on the brief sensor readings taken by the Cennergion before the void clouds turned hostile, the entities were alive, and possibly even sentient, though definitely non-biological in nature. Most remarkably, Boknar estimated that the void clouds had formed in the early days of the galaxy, predating the stars themselves.

    Goridrig den Subir – Subir hailed from the great agricultural belt of central Molag, but she rejected the sedate farming life that she witnessed all around her cohort. The tales of the early explorers, now two decades old, inspired Subir to dream of a life among the stars, expanding the frontiers of known space. After graduating in 239, she spent five years as a surveyor on Grunthirst IIIa, an oceanic world that the administration was targeting for colonization. [1] Useful work, and satisfying enough, exploring the biome and eventually preparing for the first wave of colonists; in the months leading up to planetfall in 244 she led the logistical effort to prepare Landing Site Primary, the location planned as the first civilian settlement on the surface. After the founding of New Jukla, [2] Subir was out of a post; the local governor offered her a high-ranking position in the colonial administration, but she declined, citing her desire to continue exploring the galaxy. By a stroke of luck, a posting on board the ISS Bathradurion under Rodrig den Tarrob opened up just weeks later, and she won the assignment. The aged explorer found a kindred spirit in Subir, and she quickly became his protégé. Though saddened by his death in 252, she had by then become the natural choice to succeed him as captain.

    Valdrig den Subir – When Subir [3] was announced as the head of the Sociology Section in 255, she was the first offworlder to hold a position at the sub-cabinet level. Born on Eldetha in 223, her youth was inflected with bitterness by the First Varelviv War and the resultant economic downturn on the colony. The mining operations that dominated the rocky world were working overtime to keep up with demand from the war industries; but little investment was made in the wider infrastructure on the planet, and the colonists continued to live a hardscrabble existence even as they provided the lifeblood of the war effort to Tebazed. The backwater colony was a fertile recruiting ground for the fledgling Unified Navy and Army; though Subir herself was too young to fight, the sight of so many fellow Eldethans leaving the homes they had made left a profound impression in her mind. She focused her academic pursuits on military theory, and she displayed a talent for it: in her first posting after graduation, as an aide to the Naval Staff in Sedrin, her ideas were integral to the development of a combat doctrine that focused on the destroyers that were slowly becoming the backbone of the fleet in the 240s and 250s. In 249, she moved over to the Science Directory, spending the next several years conducting sociological research on effective centralization protocols for military organizations. But despite finding a career on Tebazed, she never forgot her roots, staying active in local Eldethan politics from afar. As she rose up the ranks in the administration, she made contacts that proved very useful to various interests on the colony. She formed especially close ties with the Eldethan Union, a new political party founded in 248 whose guiding principle was the achievement of full political representation and equality with the metropole. There were suggestions that the party might have had ties to an extremist separatist group responsible for several acts of terrorism against metropolitan authorities on the colony, but Subir always denied any knowledge of such a connection. That denial was good enough for Telnik in 255 when he found himself in need of a new civilian strategist in his sub-cabinet. It was a momentous day for Tebazed and its colonies, but Subir and her friends back on Eldetha had more they wished to accomplish.

    Eldetha.jpg

    Eldetha was the home of the first colonial-born vailon to reach high office, Valdrig den Subir, as well as a nascent separatist movement.

    Suldirm den Iridar – Iridar was born in 215 in a northern Molag metropolis, a regional hub for the agriculture industry that dominated most of the landmass. During her education, her aptitude for learning was matched only by her apathy in the classroom. Iridar instead spent her youth in a near-permanent state of rebellion against the authorities in her cohort. She was ostentatious in her disdain for the educators, and generally refused to participate in assignments or listen to instructions. After she graduated, she bounced around from post to post, never settling in one role for more than a couple of years. Between 235 and 254, she spent time at a hydroponics farm, as a firefighter in a small city, in an administrative role for a conglomerate, and as a local reporter for an obscure news outlet on the Holonet. In 254, tired of her ground-bound life and looking for a new experience to stimulate herself, she applied for a posting as a sensor monitor at a remote research station in the Ussaldon system. Much to her surprise, it was in this dull and repetitive life that she found her calling. As the eight-man crew orbited the irradiated body of Ussaldon III, Iridar found joy in her work, making new discoveries about the ancient civilization that once inhabited the planet and the primordial soup that was recreating life millions of years after it had been wiped out on the surface. Focused on a topic for perhaps the first time in her life, she launched herself into a crash course on scientific research and exploration. After two years at the station, she was ready for a new challenge and applied for an opening on board the ISS Dargion, captained by Suldirm den Harak. Iridar’s range of experiences appealed to Harak, and she was installed as his executive officer. After he retired in 257, she was elected by the crew to succeed him as captain.


    Footnotes
    [1] The colony was one of the two formally announced in the early days of Telnik’s term, under the name Firintarogga.
    [2] Though the colony itself was given a traditional Laggish name, the mith-fell colonists that comprised the first wave of settlement were allowed to name.
    [3] No relation to Goridrig.
     
    Chapter Fourteen - Crisis to Crisis
  • Refugees

    Vabrig den Telnik’s first decade as Director-General was remarkable for its lack of serious opposition to the hard-charging administrator. Even the successive tribute predicaments of the mid-‘40s did not derail the momentum of his administration. Having launched a war, however, Telnik found that the demands of the conflict ate away at his attention, until he had very little left for the rest of the Governance. He ignored the warning signs, both subtle and obvious, of an impending crisis, as he focused all his energies on the campaign against the varelvivi. As a civilian leader of the military, Telnik was a micromanager, constantly worrying about minor details of procurement, logistics, and tactics. Not only did this hamper the efforts of his administrators, but it also led to Telnik overruling many decisions made by his subordinates, nominally experts in their field.

    When he did look away from his war plans, it was only in response to a seemingly random constellation of diplomatic events. The Favorable Entente, the federated union of the hytheans and the sathori, was under attack from two directions, and its defenses were on the verge of collapse. From the far northern rim came the Djunn Bloodletters, a civilization as bloodthirsty as its name implied. Little was known about these invaders from the edge of the galaxy; some suspected that they were in fact extra-galactic beings, using the systems at the edge of the spiral arm as a staging ground for their extermination campaign. The Entente also faced simultaneous invasions from its neighbors to the west and south, the Belmacosa Empire and the Khell’zen Kingdom. The belmacosans, burgeoning hegemons of the northwest quadrant and looking to continue to expand their influence, allied themselves with the spiritualist khell’zen, who were carving out their own empire north and northeast of the galactic core, against the democratic federation. The Kingdom and its monarch, the High Queen, were formally sworn to spread the faith of the Two True Deities to heathens in every star system, but they were not so fanatical as to contemptuously decline mutually beneficial agreements. The High Queen and the Emperor signed an accord in 248 in which they agreed to partition the Favorable Entente, which occupied the systems between the two empires. TUG envoys in the region believed that the two autocratic regimes would butt heads eventually. But regardless of their future course, the two empires were cooperating in their assaults on hythean and sathori space. Faced with these simultaneous invasions, the federation partners were barely holding the line, but already millions of refugees were streaming out of the region, crammed aboard any ship that would have them.

    FirstContactKhellZen.jpg

    The Khell’Zen Kingdom was an evangelical empire, founded by zealots of the faith of the Two True Deities.

    With few friendly regimes in the neighborhood, the hythean and sathori refugees scattered across the galaxy. A significant fraction found their way to vailon territory, settling in the largest concentration on the young colony of Firintarogga in the Grunthirst system. Over the next few years, a steady trickle of refugees continued to arrive at the border. It was in 256 that the trickle turned into a flood as sathori fled en masse from Jazix following a disastrous defeat at the hands of the djunn. Most of the billion residents of the planet were able to escape from the advancing armies of the djunn, leaving the rest of the galaxy to cope with the exodus. A large convoy of refugees somehow managed to evade the djunn forces and make the harrowing journey all the way to the southeast quadrant. The convoy, harboring tens of millions of civilians, had been refused entry by numerous administrations over the course of several months. When the ramshackle fleet arrived at the TUG border, however, the director-general ordered them to be taken in.

    As with prior groups, most settled on Firintarogga; the sathori hailed from an oceanic world and preferred to live in the watery climes available there. But the planetary authorities were not ready for such a rapid influx, and the population rapidly outstripped projected growth and the available infrastructure. The administration on the colony set up large, and hopefully temporary, resettlement camps, in the expectation that the metropole would invest resources in providing jobs and housing to the millions of individuals for whom the central authorities had just taken responsibility. Telnik, though angry with his appointed governor holding him hostage in this way, had no choice but to allocate additional resources to the colony. In the face of continued discontent with the conduct of the war, and simmering unrest among colonial citizens who could not fully participate in the political life of the Governance, the Director-General needed to be responsive to the needs of the colonies, lest a full-blown revolt break out. He ordered that funds previously earmarked for industrial expansion in Lopinira instead be diverted to build housing and factory complexes on the watery colony, providing much needed relief for the colonial administration and a way for the sathori refugees to enter TUG society.

    RefugeesSathori.jpg

    A group of sathori civilians managed to flee the advancing tide of the djunn and the horrors that were visited upon their brethren.
    Meanwhile, the ongoing refugee crisis, predicted to worsen as interstellar wars increased in severity, motivated the liberal states of the galactic commons to speak out with more conviction. For Telnik it was an opportunity to burnish the TUG’s reputation in the diplomatic community. He directed the Diplomacy Section to intensify their efforts to forge relationships with like-minded governments, including the Pithok Confederacy and the Cyggan Empire as well as the vastly wealthy Galactic Commonwealth of the mirovandians. Despite the ongoing and technically aggressive war, vailon envoys carried messages of peace and stability. They portrayed the continued conflict with the varelvivi as an anti-slaving mission, necessary for the maintenance of regional security. The ambassadors argued for mutual cooperation to find solutions for the current crisis and to prevent future humanitarian disasters. Though the Governance was a relatively small state, the vailons began to garner widespread respect for their diplomatic nous. In the face of all of the other shortcomings, this would serve as a major legacy of Telnik’s term in office.

    Colonials

    For all the victories won by the Unified Navy, the fleet proved ineffectual at seizing and holding territory from which to stage assaults deeper into VIS space. The Director-General exacerbated the problem by dictating strategy to the Naval Staff and preventing them from implementing more adaptive approaches. The situation at the front did not go unrecognized on Tebazed, or indeed across the Governance. The cafeterias of Sedrin were abuzz with whispered criticisms of the administration’s handling of the war. Perhaps more crucially, discontent with the central government began to emerge on the colonies. As the war dragged on, the shipyards at Starbase Tebza sucked in more and more resources; manufactories and foundries on Tebazed and in the most developed regions of Varba increased their demand for raw materials and strained the economies of newer settlements. Working overtime, these settlements began to suffer from shortages despite their crucial role in supplying raw materials, as the central administration failed to properly allocate resources to them. Colonists in these newly settled regions, as well as those in the few major cities on Varba and Eldetha, recognized their own importance to the war effort and bemoaned the underinvestment in their communities. Even more significantly, these colonial citizens started to link the shortages and underinvestment to their lack of proper representation in the Assembly. Over the course of 40 years of interstellar settlement by vailons, there had always been groups on the fringe advocating for greater political representation in Sedrin; now, these groups began to grow in popularity.

    In 255, Telnik attempted to quell the murmurs by promoting a colony-born vailon to his cabinet. He used the occasion of the retirement of his erstwhile opponent for the Director-Generalship, Feldirm den Sukar, to reorganize the Science Directorate. Telnik promoted his former aide, Jargim den Vathrag, to lead the entire Directorate; he also refocused the individual sections on military research projects. To lead the Sociology Section, he tapped Valdrig den Subir, an Eldethan-born strategist who maintained strong ties to colonial political institutions even as her career blossomed in the metropolitan administration. Some in the Assembly registered complaints about this selection, specifically with regards to Subir’s connection with the Eldethan Union. The Union called itself a political party, and its official activities corresponded to that description; but certain segments of the political world believed the Union to be linked to, or even in control of, a violent separatist movement responsible for several bombings on Eldetha in recent years. [1] Telnik, feeling political pressure on several fronts, decided he could support Subir even if these concerns were legitimate, and he hoped that appointing such a strong voice for colonial representation to his cabinet would mollify some of his critics.

    Part of Telnik’s calculation was the unfavorable view the public was taking of the war effort. Though no long-term harm had come to the vailon core worlds, unrest was stirring. The administration was determined to present the war as a peacekeeping operation in all of its public-facing and diplomatic endeavors, but large swaths of the public still viewed it as an aggressive act unbecoming of the TUG. In 257, the retirement of Admiral Piriam was met with sadness – he was publicly perceived to be the hero that saved the Governance in the first war with the varelvivi – and fury at the possibility that Telnik may have forced him into retirement in favor of someone with whom the Director-General had a better personal relationship, regardless of their actual capabilities. [2] In the following March, leaked documents revealed that the administration had rejected a VIS offer of a cease-fire immediately following the Third Battle of Arrakis. For many, this was a complete betrayal of the ethos of the Governance, and a demonstration that Telnik was unfit for office. While previously, there had only ever been minor anti-war protests in colonial settlements, now protests began in major cities across Tebazed. The outburst of passionate opposition caught the administration off-guard and shook many senior officials, who had never once considered that their policies might be unpopular. Telnik’s demeanor was outwardly calm amidst the storm, but some close advisors believed him to be rattled as well. It was days before the Director-General’s office organized an official public response; in the meantime, the protests continued to grow, culminating on March 8 with a general strike across major economic centers and a million-vailon march in the capital.

    After the day of strikes on Tebazed, however, the protests fizzled out rapidly. Lacking significant leadership of any kind beyond ad-hoc local organizing committees, anti-war activists were unable to sustain and build on their momentum. The three major factions in the Assembly may have been resolute opponents of Telnik after being frozen out of the policy-making process, but they were unpracticed at leading mass mobilization movements, and they proved unable to get up to speed quickly. More crucially, among the three factions only the Peaceful Progress Initiative had strong objections to the war itself; the Xeno Liberty Initiative and the Liberty Now Council, while outwardly supportive of the protestors’ criticisms, were also generally supportive of Telnik’s decision to proactively combat the varelviv slavers, in direct opposition to the main demands of the anti-war movement. Meanwhile, without significant organizations capable of planning for the medium- and long-term, and with few sympathetic ears in the administration, the protestors themselves either became discouraged or lost interest completely. Though the mass anti-war protests presented the possibility of a new era of politics in which the public might demand more accountability from the governing administration, this promise was not fulfilled; future generations could only take inspiration from these events, rather than a legacy of successfully winning changes to policy.

    Circumstances were different on the colonies, where settlers had nurtured their own grievances for years. Though protests in the major cities on Varba and Eldetha peaked at the same time as those on the capital, they did not immediately recede in the same manner. Instead, large gatherings persisted in urban centers at regular intervals, organized by the growing political parties which were focused on colonial rights, the Eldethan Union most prominent among them. Their primary demands were simple: locally elected governors and equitable representation in the Assembly. [3] To emphasize their own importance to the Governance, the parties organized intermittent strikes, cutting off crucial war materiel destined for the front or for the shipyards of Tebza. Other, more radical groups organized non-lethal sabotage and bombing campaigns, aimed at symbols of the metropole’s dominance like administrative buildings and export facilities. These were formally disavowed by the mainstream movements, but those movements reaped the benefits of the disruption and destruction nonetheless. Even as anti-war protests on Tebazed died down, in the capital many voices began to take up the cause of the colonial citizens, recognizing the inherent injustice of their lack of representation. The LNC in particular, as the faction devoted to equal rights for all, became vocal backers of the campaign for full political rights for the disenfranchised colonials.

    Negotiators

    As the decade approached its conclusion, Telnik found himself willing to come to the table. The military disasters at the front left the Director-General’s plans in shambles. He had spent down his political power in order to maintain a modicum of support inside his administration, and he had little legitimacy with the wider population. With his term due to end in 261, he was feeling some pressure to live up to the potential of his office. There was still hope for a favorable settlement with the varelvivi, if the offensive now being planned for 262 met with success. But Telnik had arrived at the conclusion that an arrangement with the colonies would ensure that his term had a positive legacy no matter the outcome of the war. Beginning in the last months of 259, he began formal negotiations with the leaders of the colonial rights movement to end the protests and bring them into full political participation in the Governance.

    To lead the negotiations, Telnik turned to the newest member of his cabinet, whose voice carried authority with the colonials. Tapping Subir for this role was an effective demonstration of the Director-General’s seriousness and credibility in attempting to reach a deal. Her relationship with the Eldethan Union meant that the negotiating sessions remained cordial instead of turning acrimonious. And the trust that the colonials placed in her allowed the LNC to back the negotiations as well, providing Telnik with crucial support in the Assembly for striking a deal. [4] Throughout 260, Subir shuttled back and forth between Tebazed and the several colonies, finding points of agreement between the parties and forcing compromises where the sides diverged. Over the course of the year, the outlines of a mutually agreeable deal emerged. The Assembly would be expanded to incorporate the colonial settlements, with local districts whose populations would be proportional to those on Tebazed. In exchange for not diluting the voting power of the settlers in the Assembly, the central administration won a concession on the governorships. The chief executives of the colonies would be selected based on a process similar to that of the Director-General, but a committee based in Sedrin, and comprised of a mix of metropolitan and colonial officials, would have the ultimate authority to make the selection.

    By the end of the year, most of the specifics had been sorted out, including a transition plan. [5] But with the Director-General selection less than a year away, and the conflict with the varelvivi looking likely to drag on for some time, the colonials foresaw the possibility of a new administration overturning Telnik’s policies, using exigent wartime circumstances as an excuse to do so. They wanted a way to guarantee the new arrangement against political instability in Sedrin. Though details are scarce, [6] it is believed that the eventual solution was first proposed by Subir. There was, thanks to Telnik’s predecessor, some precedent for reselecting a Director-General, especially in times of war. Meanwhile, the colonials believed that direct access to the office, due as much to its symbolic importance as to its tangible power, was the only way to cement their gains. Thus, a proposed exchange, born out of hard-nosed politicking: the LNC and the colonials would support the reselection of Telnik, allowing him to see out his war to its conclusion; after which, Telnik would step down and support Subir to be the first Director-General born off-world. With both sides’ consent to these final terms, the current DG was able to go to the Assembly in early 261 and ask them to ratify the changes to the political structure of the Governance.

    After these terms were announced on the floor of the Assembly, both the PPI and the XLI loudly denounced the proposal and proclaimed their formal opposition. When united, the two factions were able to command a slim majority, and they could theoretically block any new bills. However, on this topic they were united only insofar as they were greatly upset by the backroom political deal that Telnik and Subir had negotiated for themselves. On the terms of the political structure, most individual MAs in the XLI supported the changes, while only the PPI were opposed to the changes completely. This allowed Telnik and his allies to pick off backbench votes from the opposition. Amidst some scattered allegations of bribery, [7] they won enough converts to make the actual vote a foregone conclusion. On May 1, 261, the vote was held, and the Assembly approved the proposed changes to colonial governance and representation. A new day dawned for the TUG, in which all citizens would once again be equally represented in the capital.

    SelectionOf261.jpg

    The candidates for the Director-General selection in 261 did not seriously challenge the incumbent executive.
    There still remained one important piece of political business to conclude in 261 – the Director-General selection. As per the agreement, when his term expired in October, Telnik submitted his name again to the College, receiving in turn the support of the LNC and vast majority of colonial parties. The other factions attempted to contest the process; the PPI even tried to recruit a high-profile candidate in Galdrig den Piriam, the Director of Labor for most of Telnik’s term, but she declined to challenge her friend and mentor. [8] In the end, none of the other candidates were able to gain any traction in a race that featured the incumbent DG backed by the faction with the highest level of support across the Governance. On November 3, the College confirmed the by-now-inevitable result by reselecting Telnik for the office by an overwhelming margin. With the reselection, Telnik would remain as the executive until the end of the war, giving him full credit – or blame – for the eventual outcome.


    Footnotes
    [1] While the administration dealt with the Union extensively as the leading political organization in the colonial legislative body, some influential MAs refused to have any association with the group. The official party platform of the PPI went so far as to declare the Union itself a terrorist organization, though this was not a widely supported view.
    [2] The exact circumstances of the end of Piriam’s war service were not public at this time.
    [3] Though settlers on new colonies, as citizens of the TUG, were able to participate in Director-General selections, their local officials were appointed by the central administration and they were only represented by a single non-voting member for each planet in the Assembly.
    [4] Subir was still mistrusted by many in Sedrin, but the official backing of a major party lent her enough institutional support to negotiate a deal in good faith, and eventually to present it to the Assembly.
    [5] Special Assembly elections for the colonies were scheduled for December 261. Though the current governors would be allowed to remain in office for three years, they were required to draft plans for transitioning the planetary administrations to local political leadership.
    [6] For the obvious reason that few individuals were willing to reveal their roles in the anti-democratic deal that resulted.
    [7] The PPI accused Telnik and Subir of promising patronage to individual MAs, including future positions in the administration. Though none of the allegations were ever substantiated, the mere suggestion created a dark cloud over the debate.
    [8] The PPI eventually nominated Jargim den Vathrag, the former aide to the Director-General and current Director of Science in his cabinet, against her express wishes. The faction attempted to drive a wedge amongst the Telnik backers, hoping some would throw their support behind a candidate who was less of an affront to democratic norms. However, she declined to actively participate in the campaign, hampering the PPI’s efforts. She wound up receiving very few votes, much to her relief.
     
    Chapter Fifteen - Endings
  • Life, Going On

    Even against the chaotic backdrop of war and politics, for most citizens of the Tebazed Unified Governance everyday life continued much as it had for the last several decades. Vailons took meals, had sexual relations, participated in recreational activities, and in general were little affected by the hardship of war. In fact, the period was the beginning of a long economic boom for the Governance, kick-started by investment in wartime industries and fueled by the continued expansion of TUG mining operations to the rim of the galaxy. The polity and its citizens had grown prosperous beyond the wildest dreams of the generation of Raldirm den Vakor and Raldirm den Hullos that set the TUG on its course to interstellar dominion. It was these early pioneers that the settlers of Ferdera chose to honor in 260. The colony was located deep in the Shining Pearl Nebula near the edge of the galaxy, a place unimaginable to vailons constrained to their homeworld just a few decades earlier. To mark the date when their colony surpassed 10 million residents, the colonial administration commissioned an Autochthon Monument to celebrate the achievements of the first vailons to explore the stars and to serve as an inspiration to all future pioneers. The installation and museum would itself inspire similar projects on other colonies throughout the Governance and spur future generations to look to the stars with awe.

    Many individuals were already building upon the exploratory missions of the Science Directory themselves. While the citizens who struck out on their own had a variety of motivations, one key driver was the possibility of setting up an independent prospecting operation. These operations existed throughout controlled space, conducting details scans of planetary bodies and asteroid belts in search of overlooked mineral deposits. This was a risky proposition for the prospectors, but the potential rewards were great as well: both the Vakor and Telnik administrations had paid handsomely for detailed information regarding these deposits over the years, and prospectors could also sell the ore directly on the semi-formal interstellar market for even larger profits. Despite the dangers during wartime, some particularly intrepid private explorers ventured into the border cluster to search for valuable resources lost or abandoned amidst the fighting with the varelvivi. One such group was working on the barren planet Ushminaria II in 254 when they stumbled upon a remarkably well-preserved First League facility buried in the dust. Though there was some dissent within the prospecting team – several members wanted to sell the information just like they would information about any other resource – the team leader recognized the scientific and historic significance of the site, which he believed transcended the base profit motivation that applied in the rest of their work. With this in mind, the team reached out to the administration and handed over all of their data from the site. Though the Science Directory was excited to begin their investigation of the site, concerns about the safety of a large-scale scientific mission in the middle of the war zone led to the project being delayed until the cessation of hostilities.

    PrecursorUshminaria.jpg

    Independent prospectors discovered a rare site with a well-preserved First League facility on Ushminaria II in 254.

    The Last Campaign

    Following the counterattack by the Sovereign Navy and the defeat at Starbase Bihjall in 260, Task Force Mirasma regrouped at Starbase Tebza in May of that year. Meanwhile, TF Kampas, which successfully captured the outpost at Turim in 260, was unable to hold onto its gains after being counterattacked by the VIS fleet. In a short but furious skirmish, the eight-ship detachment incurred heavy damage. Admiral Hullos, in perhaps her last contribution to the war, managed to extract the task force before taking any losses, retreating to Tebza to rejoin TF Mirasma. The fleet undertook emergency retrofits, with ships receiving major overhauls to their engineering plants that increased their reactor output threefold. The Naval Staff hoped that these and other upgrades [1] would maintain the edge that the Unified Navy held in technology over enemy force. At the same time, the shipyards worked overtime to complete several new warships, not completely making up for the losses in the Second Battle of Bihjall but getting the task force closer to par with its varelviv counterparts. Telnik and the senior admirals were planning a new offensive, and they believed that its failure would be disastrous for the TUG.

    Reality had come to shave back the Director-General’s horns. In ten years of campaigning, the fleet had been unable to make a decisive breakthrough through the varelviv defensive line. Though ships of the Unified Navy consistently outgunned and outmaneuvered their opposites, the TUG had yet to be able to assemble them in enough numbers to simultaneously attack fortified systems and defend recently occupied ones. Telnik’s gambit to split the fleet into two task forces had failed, even backfired, as each were defeated in detail by the varelviv fleet that finally concentrated its forces. But the varelviv did not press the advantage that they had created with these victories. This gave the vailons time, for the Unified Navy to regroup and the Naval Staff to formulate a new plan for what would be the final phase of the war. During most of 260, the DG was deeply engaged in negotiations with colonial rights organizations to restructure the colonies’ political participation in the TUG. Though the parties reached an agreement which included an extension of Telnik’s leadership term, the colonials made it clear that indefinite war would not be tolerated. A total victory which allowed for the dismantling of the slavers guild that propped up the varelviv state was now out of reach. So, Telnik was forced to redefine his war aims, to better match the current capabilities and mood of the Governance.

    The strategy for the last campaign was based on two principles. First, the campaign should give the vailons the upper hand in peace negotiations with the varelvivi. Second, it should leave the Governance in a strong strategic position for the subsequent war that Telnik and the Naval Staff believed was inevitable. The key objective would be the Prothon system, which contained the only hyperlane connecting the border cluster to the varelviv home cluster. Annexing this system would allow the TUG to control access to the resource-rich border systems and define the terms of the next conflict. The starbase at Bihjall would be ignored; it had proven incapable of withstanding a siege without a supporting fleet, and the task force could not allow itself to be tied to a fixed position during this campaign. Instead, TF Mirasma would focus on establishing an alternative supply line to the outpost at Prothon, routed through other, lightly defended star systems in the cluster. Achieving this would enable the TUG to fortify Prothon and use the starbase there as a staging point for a direct invasion of Viverva, only two jumps away, at some point in the future. This would also isolate Bihjall and prevent the varelvivi from resupplying the starbase’s military facilities. [2]

    While the fleet recuperated in 260, the admirals turned this strategic outlook into a coherent operational plan, tentatively scheduled for 262 (the earliest date that TF Mirasma could reach the front, given the distance it would have to travel). The fleet would sweep through undefended systems, seizing outposts and leaving behind only skeleton crews as it drove on the Prothon system. Admiral Harak, still in operational command of the task force, would be allowed to deviate from the course only if there was an opportunity to pick off an isolated enemy fleet; otherwise, he was to remain focused on plowing a corridor to Prothon. Intelligence reports indicated that the Sovereign Navy was not using this period to rearm and resupply their forces; any forces that attempted to intercept TF Mirasma would likely not be able to withstand the firepower that the vailon ships could bring to bear. Once this was achieved, vailon envoys would sit down with their varelviv counterparts and negotiate from a position of strength.

    With the upgrades complete, TF Mirasma got underway in December for its return trip to the front. Early the following year, the Intelligence Directorate began to receive reports indicating that the Sovereign Navy was preparing for an offensive of its own. In June of 261, long-range sensor scans confirmed the reports, detecting several varelviv fleets assembling in the Bihjall system; Intelligence believed these fleets were preparing to assault Starbase Con Viab. A concerted attack before TF Mirasma could reach the front might have been able to overwhelm the bastion, but the varelvivi waited too long to test this possibility. Launching from its base at Bihjall in early 262, the VIS fleet had only reached Ushminaria by April, when the two fleets met near the first planet in the system. Harak’s forces were outnumbered, but their technological edge proved decisive, and they drove off the VIS attack with ease, causing significant losses in the process. [3]

    BattleOfUshminaria.jpg

    TF Mirasma intercepted a VIS invasion fleet near Ushminaria I in April 262.

    The victory in the Battle of Ushminaria presaged the course of the remainder of the campaign. Over the next eighteen months, the task force swept through the Turim, Cazzabius, and Arrakis systems, securing the outposts orbiting each star. In Cazzabius, the fleet pounced upon a small VIS flotilla that was conducting independent operations, destroying six of the fourteen varelviv ships for nary a loss themselves. By the end of 263, with the fleet establishing a hold on Arrakis and preparing to advance on Prothon, Telnik finally opened negotiations with Overlord Spagruum on a cease-fire agreement. The pithoks, with good relations on both sides of the conflict, agreed to serve as guarantors of the peace process, and hosted a summit on their homeworld of Thokkia. In light of the successes of the campaign, Telnik asked his envoys to go beyond the initially outlined objectives and press for the surrender of the entire border cluster to the TUG. The representatives of the overlord balked at this demand. The VIS had fought the attackers to a standstill over the course of thirteen years of war, and their forces still controlled the only significant defenses in the region at Starbase Bihjall. Their opening offer involved only minor changes to the current border and an agreement on shipping rights. With the sides so far apart, the talks stalled early in 264.

    Telnik may have been correct that the Governance had the advantage and could set terms from a strong position, but he underestimated the resolve of Spagruum and their subjects. After the peace negotiations ground to a halt, the Director-General ordered the fleet to seize Prothon and demonstrate itself as a potential threat to the varelviv homeworld. However, the Sovereign Navy still had some fight left in it; assembling its last reserves together, it launched a desperate counterattack with a fleet of 30 ships in June, attempting to blunt the vailon assault. It arrived at the Arrakis system from Prothon just as TF Mirasma was preparing to make its own jump to Prothon, catching the vailons unprepared and with their shields lowered. Two corvettes were lost in the initial volley, and several more ships badly damaged; but the vailon task force had been reinforced over the last two years and was able to absorb the losses. As a fleet cobbled together from multiple partial-strength units, the VIS forces were disorganized; meanwhile, Harak was able to organize his well-drilled ships quickly into a defensive formation. Within a few hours, the varelviv counterattack was over, having taken out a handful of vailon ships while losing half of their own. It was now apparent that VIS fleets, unless they held an overwhelming advantage in numbers, could not expect to hold their own in battle with Governance forces.

    With the path to the capital now open, Spagruum was forced to admit that his state was in a weak position. The peace talks were reopened, and this time the VIS envoys came with real concessions. The overlord was willing to surrender most of the systems in the border cluster, matching Telnik’s initial objective. The varelvivi maintained their refusal to surrender the defenses at Bihjall, and Telnik, mindful of his political promises to various political interests, dropped that particular demand. With the most contentious issues settled, the two sides rapidly reached compromises on nearly all of the remaining issues. The last roadblock was over transit rights through the border cluster: the varelvivi wanted free passage for all ships while the vailons wanted to implement a strict inspection regime for all VIS ships that wished to enter the cluster. To Telnik and his advisors, it seemed as if the varelvivi were attempting to prevent the Governance from defending itself against slaving raids, a proposition the vailons would not countenance. But pressure on Telnik to conclude hostilities was growing at home, and he was forced to concede on this issue in order to conclude the treaty quickly. They agreed that inspections would be limited in scope for most varelviv ships [4] and conducted by third-party states such as the Dabbax Solidarity or the Galactic Commonwealth. In December, the sides held a formal treaty-signing ceremony, and the two states were once again at officially at peace.

    PeaceVIS2nd.jpg

    The two parties to the conflict signed a peace treaty on December 9, 264.

    The First Campaign

    With the war over, Telnik began the process of transitioning power to his designated successor. If he had any thoughts of attempting to stay in office on the back of successfully concluding the conflict, he did not act on them. Instead, he immediately began planning for the selection process. The agreement with the colonials left him with some latitude to set the date of his own resignation; but when he floated the idea of remaining in his office for eighteen months, Subir and her allies in the Assembly threatened to withdraw their support. Telnik, perhaps cowed by the failures of his second decade in office, backed down rather than exert the limits of his own authority. Instead, he announced that he would be resigning on April 1, 265, a date a mere four months away.

    During the transition period, he and Subir were outwardly cooperative, conducting several cabinet meetings together and praising each other in every media session. In private, however, the two were barely on speaking terms. Telnik offered, graciously in his own opinion, to bring Subir into his tutelage, having her serve essentially as his deputy for the interim period. Subir, for her part, had always found the Director-General to be smug and patronizing; and this offer was the ultimate presumption, that she needed to undertake an apprenticeship with the lame-duck executive before exercising power on her own behalf. Subir was perfectly happy to let the clock run out on Telnik’s term and start fresh after the selection.

    Telnik, though isolated politically, still held all executive power in his office. In the four months he had left, he was determined use his authority to leave the Governance on a strong course as he stepped away from power and the polity moved into a new era. He began by redefining the priorities of the Trade Section of the Labor Directory; after thirty years of war in the last forty, Telnik believed it was time to move away from a policy that explicitly focused on maximizing wealth creation, and instead to return to procedures which allowed traders to spread not only goods manufactured on Tebazed but also ideas created there. Immediately following the peace accord, he also announced that the Governance would begin colonization drives for three new colonies spread throughout TUG space: Kampira, on Ussaldon IIIa, and Nagrama, on Pollban Kir IIIb, both near Firintarogga and the border with the Qvefoz, as well as The Veil, in the newly recaptured Turim system in the border cluster. This initiative infuriated Subir and her partners. Colonization was a major priority for them; further expansion of the Governance would continue to devolve population and economic power away from the metropole and towards the colonies that formed their base of support. They had counted on this as an important component of their own program once Subir had taken office. Telnik, by implementing the project while still serving as Director-General, could now count it as part of his legacy rather than his successor’s. He recognized that the colonials, supportive of the policy on its own merits, would not criticize it in public. And no matter how mad they were in private, in just a few months, after he left office, their opinions of him would be moot.

    Telnik also used his remaining time in office to make good on his promises of strong alliances. Prior to the war, he had engaged the Cyggan Empire in extensive dialogue. This had led to a research pact and several favorable trade treaties. But before the two parties could reach an agreement on a military alliance, the emperor Slugradeb had embroiled his people in another war with his eternal rivals, the Seban Commonwealth. Now that both wars had concluded, [5] the possibility of a formal alliance could be reopened. Building on their mutual strategic interests, an agreement was forged that saw the two states guarantee each other’s territorial integrity from outside invasion. To seal the deal, additional clauses were included that promised limited assistance in the case of offensive wars. Primarily focused on the cyggans’ continual conflict with the sebans, these sections would also allow the TUG to call on the cyggans in a future conflict of their own. [6] The treaty was officially signed, simultaneously by the emperor on Cyggia and the Director-General on Tebazed, on January 19.

    Meanwhile, relations continued to improve between the Governance and the ruling Aspinaca family of the Pithok Confederacy. The Aspinaca had also built a working relationship with the varelvivi in recent years, leading to the family hosting peace talks between the VIS and the TUG on their family estates in the southern latitudes of Thokkia. Behind the scenes, however, the Aspinacas were deep in conversation with the Telnik’s representatives about their respective visions for the post-war landscape. The refugee crisis of the previous decade, much closer to home for the pithoks, had spooked the familial leadership and led them to seek long-term allies who could help maintain regional stability. This neatly coincided with Telnik’s own goals and led to a natural alignment between the administrations. Once the war with the VIS was concluded, the discussions between the vailon envoys and the Aspinacas intensified; within weeks, Telnik was giving final approval on the terms of a treaty that would see the TUG enter into an alliance with the Confederacy. [7] The accord was formally announced on January 8, to much fanfare by both states. After the further announcement of the treaty with the cyggans, Telnik gave an address in the Assembly, explaining the rationale for his diplomatic efforts and outlining his vision for the future of interstellar relations for the Governance. In his speech, Telnik described the new alliances as a first step towards creating a galaxy “free of war, and strife, and the suffering of individuals no matter their species,” and expressed his sincere hope that his efforts would not be tossed aside by the next executive.

    …My sole wish, in conducting these affairs, was to make the galaxy a safer place for all peoples. It is my fervent hope that my successor in office, and their administration as a whole, will build on these successes and continue the work that all vailons, all citizens of the Governance, and indeed all beings in the galaxy, have adopted as their own: that this vast expanse of stars should be free of war, and strife, and the suffering of individuals no matter their species…

    - Vabrig den Telnik, excerpted from his Farewell Address in the Assembly, Jan 24, 265

    The speech was one of the last official public acts Telnik performed as Director-General. For the two months remaining in his term, he turned his attention towards the ongoing expansion of government facilities in Sedrin. Most of the administration was housed in buildings dating back a century or more. The out-of-date infrastructure lacked modern amenities and was so cramped that individuals often had to double-up, and occasionally triple-up, at desks. New construction to expand the available office space, already long overdue, was delayed further due to the resource demands that had emerged during the war with the varelviv. But as the war wound down in 264, the Directorate finally dusted off plans to expand the footprint of the administrative complexes in the capital. The city itself would grow, too, until its outskirts stretched deep into the foothills of the Vothor Mountains. Massive building projects dotted the landscape, and the background noise of large-scale construction became a regular feature of life in Sedrin for years. Though inconvenient for residents of the city, once they were completed these projects would be a massive boon for the efficiency of future administrations. This was Telnik’s final gift to his successor. Such an infrastructure project would never have been a priority for a new Director-General, who would be focused on implementing the new policies that they had promised during their campaigns. Instead of leaving the much-needed, though banal, improvements undone for another generation, Telnik used his lame-duck status to ensure that the process got underway and moved inexorably towards completion.

    Finally, on April 1, Vabrig den Telnik formally resigned as Director-General, kick-starting the Selection of 265. Despite the friction between himself and Subir, he stuck to his word and endorsed her candidacy within a few days. He retained enough popularity that his endorsement was a meaningful display of support. With Telnik’s endorsement, the continued backing of the Xeno Liberty Initiative, and the reflexive support of colonial citizens for the first colonial candidate, Subir was overwhelmingly the favorite to be the next Director-General. The political apparatus of the state seemed ready to accede to this history-making candidacy, as no other faction mounted a serious challenge to Subir and the selection process turned into a months-long coronation. Subir toured Tebazed for several weeks, receiving raucous receptions at each stop; she continued her tour off-world, underlining the historical nature of the event by becoming the first major candidate to campaign on the colonies of Eldetha and Varba. Returning to Sedrin in late June, she was able to relax as the College confirmed the inevitable in its vote on June 30. The following day, July 1, 265, Valdrig den Subir was sworn in as the 26th Director-General of the Tebazed Unified Governance, and the first to be a true citizen of the star-spanning polity.

    DGSubir.jpg

    Without serious opposition, Valdrig den Subir sailed to her selection as the first colonial-born Director-General of the TUG.


    Footnotes
    [1] Including new ion thrusters and fusion-powered warheads for missile systems.
    [2] A final, though subsidiary, objective would be ensuring access to the First League site on Ushminaria II.
    [3] The VIS fleet started the battle with ten destroyer-class and fifteen corvette-class ships, whereas TF Mirasma had only five and fifteen, respectively. The varelvivi lost five destroyers and seven corvettes, while the vailons were forced to abandon four corvettes due to damage suffered during the battle.
    [4] The exceptions being those ships bound for Starbase Bihjall.
    [5] The seban-cyggan war had ended with many casualties on both sides but no exchange of territory.
    [6] The clauses devoted to active participation in aggressive wars were not highly publicized to the war-weary populace of the Governance, but were key to achieving the signature of Slugradeb.
    [7] The terms included guarantees by each state to come to the other’s defense if they came under attack by a third party, military cooperation for anti-slavery and anti-piracy operations in the southwest quadrant, commercial pacts that opened new trade routes, and a scientific exchange program.
     
    Chapter Sixteen - A New Era
  • A Colonial Party

    Valdrig den Subir entered office in July of 265 with an agenda. For her entire career, she had fought for equal rights for colonial-born vailons. Once in office, her cause became the administration’s. She, and the constellation of interests backing her, concentrated their efforts on diverting power and resources from the metropole to the colonies. Their first priority was ensuring that the fast-growing colonies remained attractive destinations for immigrants from neighboring powers. Even during the varelviv war, the Governance had maintained its status as a haven for economic migrants, especially from the members of the Glorious Axis. The wartime economic boom, combined with a strong social safety net, encouraged many working-class mith-fell to stream into the TUG. After taking office, Subir enacted several new ordinances to attract further migrants to the colonies. Her administration streamlined the process of applying for citizenship, lowering the waiting period from six years to two, and initiated a program to provide bonuses to individuals who migrated to the fast-growing farming regions of Ferdera and the vast geothermal plants on Firintarogga. Ferdera, way out near the galactic rim, was already demonstrating its potential as a major center for agricultural products. A mere two decades after its founding, it had already doubled the total food production coming from the colonial worlds. Though most of Tebazed’s food was still sourced from the fertile plains of the homeworld, growth in the industry had slowed in the last decades as the available arable land had become increasingly marginal. As the population of the capital continued its massive expansion, food imports were swiftly becoming a necessity rather than a luxury. Experts in the Labor Directory predicted that Tebazed would import a majority of its food from offworld by the end of the century, with most of those imports expected to originate on Ferdera.

    The Director-General was not solely focused on the existing colonies. Vabrig den Telnik had upstaged Subir by announcing three new colonies in the months prior to the selection, but it was left to the new administration to actually implement this program. Stage One was establishing a settlement on the mysterious phased planet orbiting the star Turim. Officially designated Turim III, it had very quickly acquired the informal designation “The Veil.” After the crew of the ISS Dargion successfully stabilized the planet in this dimension in 220, the Science Directory organized several exploratory missions to the surface, and the Vakor administration announced plans to colonize the paradisiacal planet. But before that project could be implemented, the First Varelviv War broke out, necessitating the withdrawal of the science teams from the planet. Vailons would not return to the surface of Turim III for forty years; in the peace treaty that concluded the war, Turim was one of several systems the Governance surrendered to the VIS. In the intervening decades, the new owners avoided the planet; varelvivi were not generally superstitious, but some researchers on Viverva were concerned that “The Veil” could revert back to its phased state at any point. This prospect made Overlord Spagruum very uncomfortable, leading them to ban planetside operations. Though this order was occasionally ignored by independent slavers and pirate outfits looking to establish bases in wild space, it did leave the surface largely unspoiled when control of the system was transferred back to the TUG in 264. “The Veil” became the crown jewel of the new wave of colonization, with the first major settlement founded in May of 267 and the colony proving to be an attractive destination for immigrants.

    By the end of the decade, the Governance had established two additional colonies along the rimward hyperlane route. The Ussaldon system and the Pollban Kir system were each home to large habitable moons, covered in thick tropical canopies, orbiting their third planets. Vailons had never had an affinity for jungles, but they could learn to adapt to such climates. More problematic was the two worlds’ proximity to clan territory. The Qvefoz primarily busied themselves with their own internecine conflicts over the honor and status of their chieftains, but their occasional raids into the Governance continued to be a nuisance to the residents of nearby Firintarogga. Nevertheless, these satellites were the only remaining uncolonized habitable biospheres within the TUG’s borders, and the colonial party was willing to risk conflict with the marauding clans in order to set up more colonies that would be additional bases of support in the long run. After years of preparation, the first colony ship touched down on Ussaldon IIIa in December 267, officially founding Kampira, while the Nagrama colony on Pollban Kir IIIb was established in January 269. With the last two candidates for habitation now home to vailon settlements, the TUG could close the book on seventy years of peaceful exploration, expansion, and colonization.

    Reorganization

    During her tenure, Subir expanded the use of administration-wide directives in order to set and achieve policy goals. While previous administrations had used these directives at times, their targets had always been limited in scope. The Eldethan-born Director-General and her supporters in the Assembly recognized that this tool, deployed on a wide scale, had the potential to remake the Governance into a polity more balanced between the metropole and the colonies. On numerous occasions, Subir made use of this power to achieve her goals of resource redistribution. This effort began in 267 with a program to boost energy production at power plants across the TUG. New storage technologies and an aggressive implementation campaign allowed excess energy to be captured and transported to regions with less developed economies on outlying worlds. She continued her program in 273, directing the administration to launch an initiative to establish institutions of higher learning on each colony. Previously, colonial students who wished to pursue post-cohort studies – typically those going into education or the sciences – would have had to matriculate at one of the major universities on Tebazed. Once embedded in the metropolitan social networks, the students would rarely return to their homeworlds, depriving those worlds of some of their most talented individuals. New universities, however, if they were embedded in the fabric of the colonial societies, could exert a centrifugal force, pulling talent and resources outwards from the center. Finally, in 278 the administration began a campaign to deploy additional healthcare resources to the fastest-growing regions of the colonies. Previous studies by the Health Directory had shown that healthcare capacity in many colonial settlements had not kept up with the rate of population and economic growth, and that these under-resourced care systems had led to worse outcomes for cohorts from those regions. Under the new edict, the Health Directory was required to funnel supplementary resources to colonial governments and assist them in establishing new medical facilities, while the Labor Directory simultaneous directed additional personnel to staff these facilities and expand access to the care systems beyond the major urban centers.

    By creating a more equitable polity, Subir’s liberal use of executive orders made feasible a plan to ensure that the new balance of power would remain in place permanently. The structure of the Directorate had hardly changed since the 190s, even as the vailon state grew from a planet-bound society into a multi-species interstellar polity. The Labor Directory still exercised direct control over all posting decisions, including those on the colonies; in the 261 settlement, local control had only been extended to political institutions. Additionally, though each colonial administration could set policy for their respective worlds, they had very little say in the development of policy for the wider Governance. Subir and her allies believed that only a reorganized Directorate that incorporated the colonies as constituent parts would allow the colonies to be considered members of the state equal in status to the homeworld. This would create an incentive structure that forced future administrations, no matter their origin or base of power, to invest in the colonies in an equitable manner.

    Any project to rebuild this apparatus would take decades to come to fruition. So from the outset Subir prioritized making her vision for a new administrative structure clear to the public, hoping to build momentum for the project so that its progress would not stall. In a speech to the Assembly in August 268, she outlined her plans to revamp the Directorate: instead of a unitary bureaucracy governing the entire state, the TUG would be divided into several “sectors,” centered around specific colonies and governing nearby planets and star systems. Each sector would have its own Directorate and constituent Assembly; they would be led by a single executive who would be chosen via local selection processes. The selection bodies would be modeled on the College, though approximately 50% of the magisters would be chosen in regional elections.

    The new Labor Directory faced an immediate challenge when an unexpected influx of refugees, fleeing a saathid offensive in the northeast quadrant, arrived on Varba in late 269. Over the course of a few months, nearly two million tezhnids – ardently traditionalist and religious arthropoids hailing from the continental world of Tezhnar – found their way to the Lyctabon system. The flood of exiles arrived without warning; the colonial administration had no opportunity to prepare to receive and integrate them. Local officials set up mass camps to house the refugees, but they had to scramble just to ensure that food supplies were sufficient to feed everyone. By January, the situation had stabilized, and the authorities were beginning to process refugees out of the camps and into housing complexes across the world. Yet while there was slack in the housing supply, the local government was slow to integrate the tezhnids into the labor system. Many were able to find unofficial employment in the vicinity of their new homes; despite the centralized planning of the Governance, local economies were still creative forces and always had room to grow. However, a large contingent of former priests and administrators were unwilling to enter the labor force as menial workers, and they were vocal about their inability to apply for postings. Amplified by certain antagonistic elements in the public sphere, this localized bureaucratic predicament turned into a major embarrassment for Subir, who had championed the cause of refugee resettlement and emphasized the TUG’s position as a haven for those fleeing war and strife.

    RefugeesTezhnid.jpg

    A sudden influx of refugees from the Tezhnid Holy Foundation in 269 sparked minor incidents of civil unrest.

    For the remainder of Subir’s term, she conducted her administration with a focus on standing up the semi-autonomous sectoral governments. The project, she knew, would last well beyond her time in office, but that was all the more reason to get the ball rolling as soon as possible. Due to the scope of her vision, Subir’s team planned out a series of intermediate steps which would make progress both manageable and measurable. Their first major milestone was met in late 272 with the formal reorganization of the Labor Directorate so that each TUG colony would be managed in separate sections. At this stage, sectoral directors were to be appointed at the sub-cabinet level, each overseeing several of the sections – though they were not fully independent, as they still reported directly to the Director of Labor, Galdrig den Piriam. Under the new system, her responsibilities morphed: instead of overseeing the day-to-day operations of the entire posting system, after 272 she managed the directors of the three new sectors: 1) the Home sector, which incorporated Tebazed and the two colonies in the home star cluster, Eldetha and Varba; 2) the Rim sector, incorporating the previous generation of colonies, Ferdera and Firintarogga, as well as two of the recently founded colonies, Kampira and Nagrama; and 3) the Corewards sector, which had no inhabited worlds other than The Veil within its limits but did include the entire border cluster as well as the strategic bastion at Con Viab.

    Subir developed these plans with the explicit backing of her political coalition. But such coalitions require compromises to sustain themselves. The Xeno Liberty Initiative, the largest faction in the Assembly, were fervent supporters of Subir’s ambitions in remaking the Directorate to be more inclusive. However, many members were concerned by the failures to adequately make arrangements for the tezhnid refugees in 270. Using their leverage, they extracted promises from the Director-General to be inclusive not only towards those vailons living on the colonies, but also towards the flourishing xeno communities now present on most of the inhabited worlds of the Governance. Specifically, as a condition of their support they required Subir to appoint non-vailons as the first sectoral directors. Moreover, the interim directors were to be appointed to terms of no less than ten years, with formal selections put off for at least that length of time. Pulses of xenophobic sentiment had appeared several times in recent decades, most prominently during the Selection of 241, but also notably in the backlash to Subir’s elevation to Director-General. The XLI wanted ironclad guarantees that xenos in the Governance would have rights equal to those of vailons, and the faction leadership believed that giving xenos the opportunity to take on important roles in the administration would be the most effective argument in their favor. Subir, albeit reluctantly, agreed to the terms; the support of the XLI was much more important to her than having unconstrained choices in her appointments.

    In the end, Subir altered the new organizational chart to allow the Director of Labor, Galdirm den Piriam, to directly oversee the Core Sector, making an end-run around her agreement with the XLI. However, her choices to lead the other two sectors were a pair of mith-fell immigrants with close ties to the colonial movement. To govern the Rim sector from Firintarogga, the Director-General selected the 41-year-old Wrbli, who in proper mith-fell fashion took the official name Beak of Indigo. Wrbli immigrated to Varba with his parents in 239, before they joined the founding generation of Firintarogga two years later. He came of age alongside the colony, growing into a major political figure on the watery world and one of the leaders of the colonial party by the late 260s. While never forming a close bond, the pair had worked together in the past, particularly during the negotiations in 260 and 261 when Wrbli represented the interests of his adopted homeworld. Subir hoped she could build a strong working partnership with her nominal ally. And to administer The Veil and the surrounding systems, Subir tapped Mtche’ar, a long-time friend who took the name Claws of Cyan. Mtche’ar started his career in politics as an anti-Commissariat activist on Kan Jukla in the 230s before being expelled in a purge in 242. Making his new home among the ex-pat dissidents in Sedrin, his experiences as a radical in the Commonwealth made him a useful source of advice for the burgeoning colonial rights movement. Though he never forgot his roots as a dissident, for the following two decades he became something of a professional agitator, assisting a variety of groups in their efforts to organize protests and other anti-government activities. By the mid-250s he had become a formal advisor to the Eldethan Union, in which role he formed a close bond with Subir. After Subir announced the career activist as her choice to lead The Veil sector, several critics denounced the selection and accused the Director-General of playing favorites in choosing a plainly unqualified individual for the post. However, Subir, with the backing of the XLI, was able to bring her old ally into the fold without any organized opposition.

    BeakOfIndigo.jpg
    ClawsOfCyan.jpg

    Directors Beak of Indigo and Claws of Cyan were appointed to lead their respective sectors on an interim basis in 272.

    Within months, the Directorate had a new opportunity to demonstrate its effectiveness. Since its founding, Firintarogga had experienced frequent destructive storms and sudden heat waves. The climatic instability, scientists soon discovered, was caused by a massive complex submerged beneath the seas near the north pole. After an extensive effort, only partially successful, to reconstruct the databanks at the facility, researchers determined that some former denizens of this region of the galaxy had intended to completely revamp the biosphere of the planet. To what end, it was unclear; what was clear was that the facility, which was designed to subtly alter deep ocean currents, had malfunctioned. Sputtering equipment spewed excessive heat into the water, causing unpredictable and chaotic results in the climate across the globe. Though the planet remained habitable amidst the climatic instability, the extreme weather events caused significant destruction in the colonized regions. In January 273, a cyclonic system flattened an entire town and killed over 3,000 mith-fell residents. The disaster led to calls for the administration to either attempt to fix the malfunctioning facility or shut it down completely.

    Regardless of the choice, the effort would be extremely dangerous, given the environment in which the work would need to be completed. Though some researchers believed that the terraforming process could be restarted, Subir feared that an error would cause catastrophic consequences for the extant colony. Instead, she ordered the facility to be dismantled with all due haste. The Science Directory and the new Labor Directory launched an ambitious joint endeavor to deactivate the apparatus, building a pressure-sealed habitat on the seabed adjacent to the facility to house the thousands of individuals working on the project. For six months the project members toiled away in the hazardous conditions on the ocean floor as they slowly shut down power systems and disassembled machinery. Despite their careful activities, several accidents occurred, including the collapse of a pressure bulkhead, which resulted in the deaths of an entire work crew and an unplanned release of radioactive isotopes into the sea. Nevertheless, by June the project was nearing completion, having achieved a 90% reduction in heat venting from the facility. But in order to complete the work, the lead engineers estimated that another six months would be needed to dig into the bowels of the structure, and that the additional work would incur a much higher risk of failure. Rather than take on that risk, Subir decided that they had accomplished enough and announced the official conclusion of the project. Though Firintarogga would continue to experience intermittent extreme weather events, their frequency and severity were dramatically reduced. The project could only be considered a massive success, and a vindication for the administration’s restructuring of the Directorate.

    Core Concerns

    While Subir prioritized colonial policy above all others, matters on Tebazed occasionally intruded on her attention. Early in her term, she had one particular set of horns she liked to borrow for these particular problems. While her relationship with her predecessor, Vabrig den Telnik, had been calculated and pragmatic at best, and particularly frosty at times, she had always considered him to be a capable administrator. After the selection of 265, Telnik joined the College; yet Subir still found a need for his expertise in bureaucratic management, specifically in providing oversight for the Science Directory. Through the next several years, she continued to solicit his input on major decisions; in particular, he was instrumental in focusing research efforts on robotics, as well as providing valuable advice during the transition to sectoral governance. Gradually, however, he continued to step back from his public role. Finally, as 270 approached its end, Telnik announced his retirement. At 82, the old bureaucratic warrior no longer had the stomach for the daily grind. He confided to Subir that he wanted to spend his twilight years away from the politics and the intensity of the capital. While he retained his seat in the College, he was granted emeritus status, allowing him to remove himself from the everyday work of the body and retire to a life of peaceful solitude.

    Due in no small part to Telnik’s behind-the-scenes advocacy and encouragement, it was during Subir’s term that robotics first saw widespread adoption throughout the TUG economy. The former Director-General was instrumental in the completion and rollout of the first fully autonomous robots, delivered to ore mines on Hasar in May of 266. Over the next decade and a half, robotics spread slowly but steadily to most industrial sectors, but through the early ‘80s individual units were rare outside of factory shops and ore extraction operations. This changed with the development of the first mass-produced line of mammalian tetrapodal units on Tebazed in 281. Robots mimicking the form of vailons began to appear in every city of the metropole, working in retail stores and cafeterias; they largely supplanted manual labor in garbage disposal across the planet. Within a few years, robots became part of the fabric of most communities on the capital, and citizens grew accustomed to these uncanny newcomers. Subir had always been concerned about the potential for vailon-like robotics to unnerve individuals to the point of creating a backlash, and she was relieved as the public seemed to accept the new designs so readily. The metropolitan deployment was so successful that by the middle of the decade plans were in motion to expand production to several colonial worlds in addition to the major assembly plants under construction on Lopinira.

    It was, perhaps, only the insistence of her predecessor that called Subir’s attention toward matters scientific. Despite her background in the scientific establishment, the Director-General had always been more interested in political and social issues, and that continued during her term in office. After Telnik’s retirement, the Science Directory was largely left to manage its own affairs. Staying out of the spotlight was in fact a positive for Jargim den Vathrag, who stayed on as Director of Science even though she was considered a Telnik loyalist. She was perfectly happy to continue in her role after the new administration took power and granted her license to run the directory as an essentially autonomous fief. In exchange, she only had to sacrifice public awareness of their exploits. In 269, for instance, the Archaeology section completed its long-term expedition to study the First League artifacts on the dusty surface of Ushminaria II. The “facility,” discovered by independent prospectors fifteen years earlier, had turned out to be a ship graveyard, remnants from a battle that had occurred two million years earlier between the forces of the First League and nomadic raiders from the outer rim. Researchers theorized that this battle, whether or not it was a victory for the First League, was a symptom of an empire in decline. The site was close to a facility known to have been a First League naval base, discovered in 213 on Ushminaria VIIIa. This was taken as an indication that the League was on the retreat from the greatest extent of its control. But, without the megaphone of the public relations apparatus of the Director-General’s office, Vathrag’s announcement of this remarkable discovery about precursors to the vailons failed to capture the public’s attention.

    This period of independence for the Science Directory also led to new findings about the basic nature of the universe. In the span of just six months, in late 270 and early 271, deep-space exploration missions made exciting breakthroughs on several phenomena. Research expeditions led by Vabrig den Boknar and Goridrig den Subir encountered clusters of lifeforms unlike any others known to the Governance. Boknar had first discovered the entities known as void clouds in 259, but they had stubbornly resisted attempts to analyze at the time. Her second encounter, in April 271, proved to be enormously fruitful, as her team knew what to look for this time. For three hours, her ship took scans across the electromagnetic spectrum before they were forced to flee the system. They were able to gather enough data to confirm several hypotheses about the lifeforms, including the remarkable idea that these ‘clouds’ were communicating with each other across vast distances by utilizing quantum entanglement. Meanwhile, Goridrig den Subir became the first vailon to encounter beings of living crystal. Similar to the void clouds, the massive prismatic structures appeared to be alive despite the best available physics and biology suggesting that such a thing was impossible. Moreover, as soon as the TUG ship entered the system, the entities altered their course to intercept the research vessel, and began to emit a complex pattern of energy signatures which Subir took to be an attempt at communication. Unable to reciprocate in any similar fashion, Subir felt it prudent to retreat until some means of responding to the crystalline entities could be devised. Finally, Boknar’s team made an important discovery about the clusters of ancient mining drones that had been spotted in several systems across the quadrant. These deep-space operations initially seemed to be completely independent of each other, but with the latest signals technology Boknar successfully isolated low-frequency pings from the background radiation. Who these pings were intended for, and whether there was anybody still listening, was unknown (and quite doubtful, according to Boknar), but it was awe-inspiring to realize that these drones could still be operating millions of years after their makers had turned to dust.

    CrystallineEntitiesStudied.jpg
    VoidCloudsStudied.jpg
    AncientDronesStudied.jpg

    Vailon explorers made new discoveries about ancient mysteries.

    Yet, for the first decade of her term, Director-General Subir remained focused on her and her supporters’ aim of reorienting the Governance away from the metropole and towards the colonies, finding success on most fronts. Left with secure and peaceful borders by her predecessor, she hoped to continue this project into her second decade in office and beyond. But beginning in 274, war once again darkened the horizon, and Subir was forced to shift her attention to matters which she would have preferred to be able to ignore…


    Footnotes
    [1] From approximately 21 billion in 200 to more than 50 billion in 270.
    [2] The Science Directory was certain this was not actually possible. According to the Intelligence Directory, the varelvivi scientific establishment, hampered by its authoritarian masters, was decades away from the breakthroughs in quantum physics needed to fully understand the phenomenon.
    [3] Hot, wet, and sticky – not a good combination with fur.
    [4] Most notably in the whole-of-government effort to support the initial exploration mission of the Science Directory in the first decade of Raldirm den Vakor’s term as Director-General.
    [5] The remainder would be appointed; 25% by the sectoral Director and 25% by the Director-General. The sector Colleges would operate short-handed until the first selection was completed.
    [6] The failure of the mith-fell government to warn Subir greatly troubled her, but she chose not to make a diplomatic incident out of it.
    [7] Piriam had developed a close relationship with Subir over their decade serving together in Telnik’s cabinet. When Subir was elevated to the top job, Piriam had stayed in her role.
    [8] Persistent rumors that he had also been an informal advisor on some of the Union’s shadier activities dogged him for the rest of his career. Having his close friend as Director-General tended to shield him from any significant blowback, however.
    [9] According to this group’s (admittedly speculative) calculations, the civilization that built the facility designed the intervention to transform the planet into a so-called paradise world – quite similar to the The Veil, in fact. Some even suspected that the civilization in question had also caused Turim III to blink between dimensions in a separate failed experiment.
    [10] While the exact mechanism for this communications pathway remained unknown, its mere existence suggested the massive gains that would be possible with further research in quantum computing.
     
    Chapter Seventeen - Growing Pains
  • Return of the Ancients

    In the diplomatic realm, Valdrig den Subir, through absolutely no effort of her own, was gifted a major victory within weeks of taking office. Since their visit in 244, the Bothrian Progenitors had continued to transmit semiannual reports on the conditions of the vailon colony on Cradle. The first several were met with excitement and fanfare, but after a few years the public lost interest in news of their absent brethren. While still in office, Telnik had continued to keep tabs on the exiled [1] citizens, reading each report in full and occasionally replying with questions on particular details. [2] Subir, however, was not burdened by any guilt over the matter, having still been with her cohort at the time. When the first report arrived on her desk in September 265, she felt no compunction about moving the report from her desk onto that of a mid-level staffer in her office. She was very surprised, then, when that staffer returned the report to her attention within a few hours. Buried in Annex A, Subsection I was a note that a new delegation was en route to TUG space.

    Subir immediately threw the administration into crash preparations for the bothrians’ arrival, expecting that their requirements would be much the same as for their previous visit. When the delegation arrived at Governance space, however, it was clear that things were different this time. The diplomatic yacht had traveled alone, sans military escort; [3] moreover, once the delegates landed on Tebazed, they immediately indicated to their hosts that they could forego the formal welcoming ceremony, and, indeed, all of the official events planned for their stay. [4] Instead, the Director-General hosted the delegation for an informal dinner at her residence in Sedrin. The following morning, the bothrians met with Subir and her team at her office, with the meeting lasting for the better part of the day. For the first several hours, the discussion meandered, with the bothrians seemingly bringing up whatever happened to cross their minds. Of course, Subir felt obliged to indulge them, given the distance they had traveled and, more important, the relative power of the two civilizations. Her patience was rewarded in the afternoon, when the bothrians finally revealed the purpose of their visit: in the cargo hold of their ship was a large cache of minerals and credits, a gift for the vailons. The head of the delegation expressed general praise for the vailon civilization in the first blush of its spacefaring age, specifically singling out the administration’s commitment to assembling a coalition to address the interstellar refugee crisis. Subir, ever prudent, did not point out that it was in fact her predecessor who had spearheaded that effort, that her own plans were quite different in their nature. She accepted the gift on behalf of the Governance, along with the favor that the bothrians showed in bestowing it upon them. At the press conference to announce the gift the next day, Subir took great pains to emphasize the generosity of these benefactors, lavishing praise on them as the torchbearers of civilization for millenia. When the delegation departed that afternoon, however, she breathed a sigh of relief that they had not made any further demands on the vailons. She firmly believed, though, that they would be back one day, to make another ‘request’ of what they surely considered to be a client state.

    BothrianGift.jpg

    “As a token of our esteem,” he said.

    The early part of Subir’s term also saw the return of another ancient civilization to the capital. After a twenty-year absence, in 270 the Director-General formally invited the Prossnakans of the Curator Order to return to Sedrin and provide renewed access to their seemingly limitless databanks. Subir ordered the Prossnakans to be paid out of the funds granted so generously by the bothrians a few years earlier, a fact which gave her smug satisfaction. The data that her scientists gathered over the next few years pushed the Science Directory to technological frontiers leaps and bounds beyond what their neighbors and rivals could reach. The Governance had never been the largest or richest state in the region, but its focus on rapid technological development had allowed it to punch above its weight diplomatically and, most importantly, in two wars with the varelvivi. Subir hoped to cement that edge into the next century. The Prossnakans became mainstays in Sedrin during Subir’s tenure, with several even taking on informal advisory roles to the Director-General. In 280, when their initial contract expired, Subir negotiated a new deal which included automatic renewals every ten years, keeping the Curator Order in the capital indefinitely.

    Across the Void

    While the bothrians honored the work that the Governance had undertaken to combat the refugee crisis in the past, in the present the situation was only growing worse. In the northeast quadrant, the saathids continued their campaigns of conquest and destruction through the 260s and 270s. In the early ‘60s, the arthropoids committed their most heinous act to date, invading the pre-FTL norillga civilization on the second planet orbiting the star Uiafladus and wiping out 90% of the three billion individuals living in late-industrial societies across the surface. Many of the norillga survivors, shell-shocked by their sudden thrust into the wider galaxy on top of the xenocide of their species, found their way to TUG space. As their former home was itself a jungle world, the norillga were offered large portions of the new colony of Kampira, on the jungle moon of Ussaldon III, for their own settlements. Over the subsequent years, as teams of psychologists from the helped the norillga cope with the trauma, the mollusk-like individuals would play a key role in taming the wild forests of the colony for widespread habitation.

    The saathid rampage through the northeast quadrant found other targets as well. Some of these targets were able to meet the attacks with a stout defense: despite taking serious military losses, the Glorious Axis successfully repelled the universal enemy, and the Tezhnid Holy Foundation, while sacrificing several colonies to the invaders, was able to establish a defensive line protecting their core worlds in 272. Less lucky, or less capable, were the defenders of the Obevni Hegemony, who were comprehensively defeated by a saathid onslaught in 267. As the arthropoid navies advanced, the obevni fled their homes and spread throughout the galaxy, with every major empire absorbing at least a few million of the refugees. The TUG, in five waves through the ‘70s and ‘80s, took in six billion obevni. By far the largest recipient of these refugees, however, was the neighboring empire of the Tezhnids. Even if they had wanted to stop the inflow, the sheer number of exiles would have overwhelmed any civilian barrier. In order to stabilize the situation, the Holy Foundation took over administration of the rump state of the Hegemony and accepted the remaining colonies of the Hegemony into their defensive sphere.

    RefugeesObevni.jpg

    The obevni were among the many victims of the genocidal campaigns of the saathids.

    Meanwhile, refugees from the Glorious Zaydran Hegemony streamed to the new colony of Nagrama. The zaydran state bordered the territory of the Avarrian Star Hunters, and the constant raids by the rapacious raptors turned the promise of the age of space exploration into an era of horror and death. These attacks culminated in the sack of Star’s Nest, the zaydran homeworld, in 261. Though the tide of destruction eventually receded when the avarrians turned their attention to wealthier targets, the Hegemony entered a downward spiral after it proved unable to protect its citizens. Corruption was endemic, and while the emperor made grand promises of recovery and the coming age of glorious revenge, billions of zaydrans took the opportunity to flee. Those who managed to make their way through avarrian lines found themselves in an unfriendly corner of the galaxy, as the other states [5] in the region did not want to offer an attractive home for individuals fleeing the failing states in their midst, lest they encourage even more migration. Some found their way to the north and the Galactic Commonwealth, where the fast-growing economy was seemingly always in need of new laborers to sustain its expansion. A large proportion fled south to Governance space, where the Director-General offered them the opportunity to settle on the new and developing colony of Nagrama.

    In the southwest quadrant, a second hive-mind was emerging as a major power in the galaxy. The Jess’Inax Hive was as resolutely strange as Mandasura Prime, but far more expansionist in its behavior. The Jess’Inax emerged from their namesake homeworld at roughly the same time as the vailons developed FTL travel. [6] They demonstrated a singular focus on resource accumulation, bringing them into immediate conflict with their neighbors in the southwest quadrant. Their first target was the pelx-cradonians of Cradon. The Jess’Inax fleet, in their remorseless advance, overwhelmed the cradonian navy in 260 and captured Cradon. Faced with the loss of their home, the cradonian government fled to a remote system along the outer edge of the galaxy, reconstituting itself as a military commission led by the chief admiral of the navy. The citizens left behind faced the terrifying unknown of life under a hive mind, which turned out to be… being completely ignored. The drones used violence to clear out pelx-cradonians from areas they subsequently utilized, but as long as the natives stayed out of their way the drones engaged in no aggressive activities. Some individuals saw an opportunity to coexist, however uneasily, with the hive, but most recognized that the insatiable appetite of the Jess’Inax would eventually force them to leave or die. The pelx-cradonian exile occurred in waves, with separate groups arriving in the TUG in 274, 283, and 285.

    In the northwest, one alliance deepened while another collapsed. Under the constant assault of simultaneous invasions by the khell’zen and the belmacosans, the Favorable Entente, the federation comprising of the democratic states of the Hythean Alliance and the Sathori Union, began to steadily retreat in the 260s. The two aggressive powers, meanwhile, reaped the fruits of their cooperation, slowly taking system after system from the determined, but outmatched, defenders. The democratic alliance managed to secure a truce in 267, giving themselves a respite from the onslaught. This only delayed the inevitable, however; the khell’zen and the belmacosans took the opportunity to establish bilateral institutions to cement their alliance, which they dubbed the Bright Entente. When war resumed in 271, the newly formed federation demonstrated its efficacy by dismantling the remaining defenses around the hythean core worlds in a lightning assault. Though the sathori defenders were able to hold out, the price of peace was high: the Hythean Alliance was formally partitioned between the two aggressors, while the Sathori Union was forced to surrender all of its border defenses. By the late 270s, the Bright Entente had emerged as one of the foremost powers in the galaxy. Their aggressive actions against their more peaceful neighbors only underlined the need for collective security toward which Subir’s diplomatic policy was oriented.

    Diplomatic Entanglements

    The newly formed alliance with the Cyggan Empire proved troublesome from the start. When the treaty was signed in January of 265, the cyggan ambassador provided assurances to the outgoing administration that the emperor would not make any consequential decisions without consulting with Telnik’s successor. However, the weakness of the varelvivi in the immediate aftermath of their war with the Governance proved to be too tempting of an opportunity for the aggressively expansionist Slugradeb. When the imperial ambassador came to the Director-General with the news that the cyggan fleet had crossed the border into VIS space, Telnik was so furious that he briefly considered expelling the envoy from the capital in retribution. In the end, however, the vailon knew how valuable the defensive pact with the cyggans was, and he agreed to tolerate the emperor’s indiscretions against the mutual enemy between the two countries. When Subir formally stepped into power in mid-year, she followed her predecessor’s policy in the matter, expressing her frustration with the unilateral cyggan aggression but ultimately declining to take any further action. The short war ended in 268, with VIS forces putting up minimal resistance after the beating they took during the Second Varelviv War. When the cyggan fleet blockaded the varelviv colony of Qeni-Ghirgaam in the Sauu system in 267, the Sovereign Navy was able to muster only a token force to counterattack the invaders. The battle, and the subsequent invasion of the planet, were closely watched by vailon military observers, keen to gather information about the nature of land-bound warfare in the era of interstellar space travel. The varelviv bought peace quickly after the colony was captured, surrendering several systems and a major defensive installation to the cyggans.

    SiegeOfQeniGhirgaam.jpg

    The brutality of the cyggan invasion of Qeni-Ghirgaam was a preview of things to come. Its rapidity was not.

    Subir began her term of office with a confident and outward-looking diplomatic stance. Though their position was weak in some respects, as demonstrated by their inability to restrain their allies, the Governance had established its capabilities in the grueling but ultimately victorious war with the varelvivi; now, with a new Director-General, it would begin to throw its weight around in general astropolitics, building on the legacy of her popular predecessor. She was nobody’s idea of an idealist; she understood the hard-edged reality of diplomatic maneuvering. A coalition can only function if its members’ goals are aligned. With this in mind, Subir focused on enlisting partners for specific objectives. She articulated three major objectives, around which she organized her diplomatic efforts. These were each emerging as significant threats to stability in their respective regions: in the southeast quadrant were the Avarrian Star Hunters; in the southwest, the Jess’Inax Hive, and in the northeast, the Saathid Annihilators.

    In the case of the avarrians, the Director-General successfully leveraged the vailons’ existing good relations with the other major powers of the southeast quadrant. Even as mere associates of the Glorious Axis, the TUG remained on very good terms with the mith-fell and the hissma, who together represented the strongest military force in the quadrant. Vailon appeals to the self-interest of the obevni, the zaydrans, and the rethellians, all of whom shared a border with the predatory raptors, were well heeded. Even Mandasura Prime contributed to the effort, though it stopped short of fully participating in the coalition. [7] The avarrian raiders that attacked colonies with regularity also menaced merchant vessels along shipping lanes throughout the region, the vast majority of which carried trade to, from, or within the Glorious Axis. The federation thus wound up providing the bulk of the interdiction forces. Scout ships patrolled the trade routes, while small and highly mobile strike forces waited at strategic anchorages to quickly counterattack any avarrian raids. And though the Glorious Axis was unwilling to contemplate a direct invasion of avarrian territory, [8] they did support the creation of a fund to support the zaydran effort to reconquer their homeworld, now little more than a charred husk after the sack but still an important symbol for their long struggle. For the zaydrans, this was an existential war seemingly without end; but, with the continued support of Subir’s coalition, they pressed in on the avarrians, finally delivering a crushing blow in 285 in the Battle of Xulbac’s Maw, which saw the destruction of most of the avarrian Star Fleet. Within a year, the avarrian government had effectively collapsed, and resistance had ceased in all but a few strongholds. By 288, even these holdouts had recognized the hopelessness of their positions and surrendered, and the scourge that was the Avarrian Star Hunters was no more.

    To the galactic south, the Jess’Inax Hive proved a trickier foe to contain. Subir found it much more difficult to assemble a so-called coalition of the willing to check its advance in the region. The Hive was not overtly hostile to xeno life, as the cradonians discovered, lessening the threat as perceived by its neighbors and mitigating against the Director-General’s attempts to forge a coalition. Likely more important, however, was the dearth of long-term relationships for the TUG in the southwest quadrant. As hostile polities [9] had made the hyperlanes to the quadrant largely inaccessible to vailon explorers until mid-century at the earliest, and even now blocked travel by most civilian vessels, it had been impossible for earlier administrations to build connections as they had done in their home quadrant. As an additional impediment, the Hive began its expansion from the galactic rim, far away from most of the other spacefaring powers in the region. As a result, many of those neighbors underestimated the threat emanating from that corner of the galaxy right up until the moment their border stations were swarmed with drones.

    Up to the 270s, the only major power to fall to a Jess’Inax invasion had been the pelx-cradonians, whose refugee crisis had its own major impact on the Governance, as we have seen. But the pelx-cradonian state was eventually able to stabilize itself in the as-yet unclaimed region of space in the very southern tip of the galaxy. The new military council leading the government recognized the necessity of seeking allies; faced with the loss of 90% of their previous territory, the cradonians knew they did not have the wherewithal to stand up to a renewed assault by the Jess’Inax on their own. For Subir, it was an opportunity to make inroads in the quadrant, and she directed her envoys to the cradonian administration to offer a broad array of support in exchange for an alliance. What the cradonians wanted, however, the Governance could not plausibly offer: direct military support in their ongoing conflict with the Hive. With the direct route blocked by the Qvefoz, it would take the Unified Navy five years to transit from the naval base at Con Viab to cradonian space, and that only by traveling through varelviv space. Such an action would leave the TUG dangerously exposed to attack by its own enemies. Talks of a vailon-cradonian alliance floundered on this basic geographic fact, and though Subir’s envoys would eventually lock down a number of smaller agreements on mutual assistance and trading rights, her dream of a long-term presence via a proxy in the region was dashed.

    EthicsShiftCradonians.jpg

    The Subir administration had hopes that the new cradonian government would be willing partners in the southwest quadrant. These hopes were dashed, quickly, once the cradonians learned the terms of such a partnership.

    Meanwhile, another polity in the region was undergoing upheavals of its own. Though they did not themselves share a border with the Jess’Inax, the worker collectives of the Dabbax Solidarity looked on nervously as their neighbors were overwhelmed by the frightening power of the hive. More militant voices on Dabba Naxan began to make themselves heard, especially after the cradonian retreat finally left the dabbax with a border of their own with the Jess’Inax. In 273 this more militant faction seized power and started a major military buildup to protect the revolution. [10] Subir, at first, welcomed this development, and sent overtures to the new government to explore the possibility of cooperation. But these overtures were rebuffed; the new ruling cadre informed the vailon envoys that, notwithstanding the changing circumstances in the quadrant, the collectives would never ally themselves with corrupt counter-revolutionary states whose own revolution was inevitably coming soon. The Diplomatic Corps found this explanation dubious, pointing to the cadre’s productive dealings with the Glorious Axis. [11] The dabbax, it seemed, were willing to work with arch-capitalists, but only when they believed they could extract resources from them. The vision of cooperation in mutual interest that Subir espoused was fundamentally opposed to the zero-sum view of diplomacy that the communists held. This was disappointing for Subir, but she was able to take solace in the fact that at least one other power was taking the threat of the Jess’Inax seriously.

    Subir found somewhat more success in her effort to contain the fanatically xenophobic saathids. A quirk of the hyperlane substructure left the arthropoids, who controlled the space wrapping around the eastern edge of the galactic core, with only one route to the main body of the southeast quadrant, which was heavily defended by the navies of the Glorious Axis. The hissma and the mith-fell remained alert to the threat, having only recently concluded a brutal war with their genocidal neighbors. With an uneasy truce holding along the border to the south, during the 260s and the 270s the saathids concentrated their energies in the northeast quadrant. After watching the beetle-like scourge rip through the inhabited colonies of the obevni, the ragerians of Aeria Husila feared they would be next. Very little love was lost between the current military junta on Aeria and their neighbors in the region; with good reason, none of the other powers wished to treat with a cabal of military officers who were the product of the fourth coup in fifty years; who was to say there wouldn’t be someone else in power in a few years? So even as the mirovandian and the tezhnid navies proved able to halt the saathid offensive in its tracks, both governments declined to guarantee aid to the ragerians when the saathids inevitably turned their guns on them. Despite her personal distaste for the current rulers on Aeria, not to mention state policy opposed to undemocratic seizures of power, Subir saw this as an opportunity to extend influence in the quadrant and hopefully check the saathid advance. Negotiating with the ragerians, the Director-General offered the assistance of the Unified Navy in the event of a saathid attack, promising to assemble a coalition of southeastern quadrant powers and create a southern front to split the saathid navy. In return, the ragerians agreed to several very favorable trade terms and accepted vailon military equipment to arm their own forces; they also agreed to host an important diplomatic outpost in their space, allowing Governance envoys easy access to the other major powers in the northeast quadrant.

    It was an overlooked part of the galaxy, however, that demanded Subir’s attention for the second half of her term. For in late 273, even as the Director-General was locking down agreements with the ragerians and the zaydrans, the Seban Commonwealth declared war on the Cyggan empire, triggering automatic treaty obligations for mutual defense on the part of the TUG. The Governance was once again at war, this time to defend an unreliable ally against overt hostility from its historic rival.

    DOWSebansCyggans.jpg

    The Seban Commonwealth renewed their conflict with the Cyggan Empire in 273, much to the alarm of the Subir administration.



    Footnotes

    [1] Though Telnik’s administration never established the exact status of the vailons taken by the bothrians, legal precedence had come to treat them as de facto expatriates.
    [2] To these questions, Telnik only sometimes received a response. The responses, moreover, were only occasionally responsive to the specific query. For instance, in 251 the Director-General transmitted a series of questions about vailon sexual relations with other species on Cradle (an important area of research for biologists and sociologists as the TUG became a multi-species polity). The subsequent report did not include any relevant data on sexual habits, cross-species DNA transfer, or procreation, but did contain various works of art by the vailon exiles under the section heading, “Studies in Multi-Special Relations.”
    [3] Some of Subir’s aides interpreted this as a sign of respect and trust. Others guessed it was merely a sign of respect, believing that the yacht, however ‘diplomatic’ it was, was probably also armed to the teeth.
    [4] Much to the disappointment of the thousands of individuals who gathered at the landing field to greet them, and the many others who planned to attend the subsequent events to catch a glimpse of the guests.
    [5] Including those comprising the Glorious Axis.
    [6] Indeed, as did most of the known interstellar-capable species of the galaxy, a puzzle that continues to confound the best scientists in the Governance.
    [7] Subir would have welcomed their support, but the mith-fell rejected the idea out of hand. Its contribution was thus limited to patrolling sectors directly bordering its territory, and small but crucial donations of resources.
    [8] Most of their naval forces were tied down in ongoing operations to monitor the saathid border, as well as a flare-up of hostilities with Mandasura Prime.
    [9] The varelvivi and the qvefoz straddled the only two access points to the west.
    [10] As it turned out, their conception of “protection” was offensive in nature. The new government attacked the overextended Hive in the late 270s, seizing the former cradonian core worlds in the name of the revolution.
    [11] The dabbax were eventually granted associate status with the federation in 275.
     
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    Interlude - Reception
  • Quemar Hall
    Sedrin
    Tebazed, Tebazed Unified Governance
    February 2, 273


    A murmur of excitement bubbled up in the room behind Jargim. It provided a welcome distraction from the interminable Confederacy ambassador, droning on about his youthful indiscretions on the pithok homeworld of Thokkia. Glancing around, she quickly discovered its genesis: the delegation from the Galactic Commonwealth, currently descending the grand staircase into the main reception hall, dressed in all the fineries of their respective stations. Jargim, too, was dressed for the occasion; but in contrast to mirovandian customs, vailon philosophy dictated only the addition of a status-sash over regular, everyday wear. In their own way, the hosts of this interstellar, multispecies gathering stood out, plain, flat outfits against the backdrop of beautiful silks, extravagant appendages, gleaming jewels. But the mirovandians displayed such grandeur and magnificence as to overshadow all of the other guests. Three attachés led the way in front of the ambassador. Each were dressed in a robe hand-woven of the finest synth-fabrics, with colors defining their ranks. On the left, the yellow of the brightest juja flower catching the sunlight at midday, signifying the attainment of an advanced education in the physical sciences. On the right, an icy blue that the vailons knew only from the northern reaches of Hemberar but a common sight on the tundras of Mirovandia Prime, representing accomplishment in the military arts. And in the center, gray like the stormy seas of the great ocean, but closer in its likeness for the way it seemed to roil with the shadows of waves, a hue only awarded to the highest achievers in technological entrepreneurship. The ambassador himself wore robes shimmering with greens and golds and reds, assigned to the station of plenipotentiary representative of the Galactic Commonwealth in the wider galaxy. It was a stunning assemblage.

    Her colleagues in the Diplomacy Directory had probably grown accustomed to these ostentatious displays, but they would always feel a little strange to Jargim. Vailon cultures tended to eschew elaborate rituals around contact with outsiders; and yet, it was abundantly clear that this was a common feature for sentient life. She was sure that the diplomatic corps underwent extensive training to prepare themselves for such rites, but Jargim felt uncomfortable simply wearing her status-sash on the few formal occasions in which she was forced to participate as Science Director. She considered herself lucky that her work kept her away from these types of receptions most of the time.

    She used to be able to avoid these receptions completely, under the previous Director-General. She had come up under Telnik as a staff aide; they remained close until his death. The new boss – still “new” to Jargim despite being halfway through her term – believed in the power of ceremony, and she required all of her top administrators to participate in them. When Subir, during the transition, had asked Jargim to stay on as head of the Science Directory, it had been the one condition she imposed on Jargim in exchange for complete autonomy in her day-to-day responsibilities.

    “Jargim den Vathrag!”

    Jargim whirled upon hearing her name. “Gesso!” Maybe, on occasion, these events did have their perks. “I didn’t know you’d be here; I would’ve looked for you!”

    Gesso had’Muld smiled and tipped his horns in acknowledgement. Unlike the vailon mannerism, which would have dictated tilting one’s horns towards the other party, for ragerians the accepted motion was a swift dip to the right. It still jarred Jargim a little bit, seeing the vailon sign for revulsion from an individual so like the natives of Tebazed that the differences between the two – ragerians were on average slightly taller, their horns thinner and more elongated, their individual furs much finer – were virtually indistinguishable to the naked eye. Diplomats from every species across the galaxy trained for years to avoid any physical mannerisms in their body language, to avoid giving accidental insult to a xeno whose own languages and customs varied wildly. But neither Jargim nor Gesso were diplomats, in the formal sense.

    “It was a last-minute change to our delegation. I’m on rotation at the Kan Jukla embassy; someone got sick and I got tapped to take his slot.”

    Jargim turned back to the group and said, “Excuse me, but I’ve just bumped into an old friend, I’m going to step away for a bit.” Turning back to Gesso, they began to walk.

    “How long have you been stationed on Kan Jukla?”

    “Six months,” Gesso admitted.

    “Six months! Why didn’t you contact me? I have plenty of occasion to find myself in the Commonwealth for a visit.”

    “I didn’t want to bother you. Listen – is there somewhere we can talk?”

    Jargim looked around. “Rooms upstairs are probably empty, we can borrow one.”

    “Somewhere away from prying eyes.”

    Jargim considered her old friend. “I know a place, a couple of blocks away. Barkeeper is a friend; he keeps a bottle of Lauganah stashed away for me.”

    Gesso nodded at the suggestion. Jargim steered them over to the master of ceremonies, whom she informed that they were stepping out for a while. The master gave her assent, only reminding her that she needed to be back in time for the formal opening of the summit.

    Twenty minutes later the pair were sitting in a secluded banquette in the back corner of the bar, a tall, thin bottle of bright blue liquor from the highlands of Hasar between them. It had been their drink of choice, back when Gesso had been the chief scientific liaison at the Aerian embassy in Sedrin; it was still Jargim’s drink of choice.

    “We can talk here,” the vailon said quietly to her companion.

    “Can we? Your foreign ministry is only four blocks away. There’s a Labor Directorate office just across the street.”

    “One of the reasons I like the place: nobody comes here. Not from the administration, and not from the press either.”

    “What makes you so sure?”

    “Look around you.” The table, veneered wood, had a large crack through the center. A haze from an unidentified source dimmed the ceiling. Of the lights hanging over the bar, two were out and the shade of a third was sliced in half. A vaguely unpleasant smell hung in the air. “This place is a dump. I come here because nobody else I know does.”

    “Why?”

    Jargim sighed. “Sometimes I need to get away from people.”

    “So you come to a bar and drink alone.”

    “I bring work."

    “Oh, sure.” Gesso let out a low chuckle. “That’s so much better.”

    “What else should I be doing with my time?”

    It was Gesso‘s turn to sigh in exasperation. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

    “Okay.” Jargim was upset. She hadn’t asked to have a private conversation, dredge up old emotions. She didn’t want to do that work right now. “Then just tell me why we’re here.”

    Gesso nodded, took a long drink from his glass. “I was a last-minute addition to the delegation, but not because someone got sick.”

    “I figured that out,” Jargim observed.

    Her friend ignored her. “We actually bumped our Intelligence Minister from the summit, incidentally, if you want to know how important my mission is. He’s cooling his horns in a resort on Hissom.”

    “And doing so in the height of luxury, I presume.”

    “Presumably, yes.” Here Gesso paused. Jargim considered encouraging him to speak but decided to remain silent. She suspected that she would not like what he had to say. He would have to work up the courage on his own.

    “I’ll get right to it, then,” Gesso continued. “My government has been lying about the Belvares Maelstrom.”

    Jargim perked up.

    “The data we have given you has been falsified,” the ragerian admitted. “The truth is… far stranger that we have let on.”

    “We knew that much ourselves. Why have you been lying?”

    “It’s hard for us to trust anyone. Everyone else we have met has been hostile to our regime.” Gesso finished his glass, poured himself another. “Or it’s fear of the unknown. Desires to monopolize the information for our own benefit. A deep-seated suspicion of outsiders. Who knows why, really?”

    “Be serious.”

    “Fine.” A pause, as he took another gulp of the Lauganah. “We didn’t know – still don’t know – what to make of it. The implications are crazy, and scary. How can a black hole call out scientists by name? How can that message have existed from before the birth of our species? It shouldn’t be possible, but there it is.”

    Jargim nodded. This story conformed with the Science Directorate’s modeling, far more so than the original data sent from Aeria. Three times, vailon science ships had ventured to the position of the Horizon Signal, searching for the source of the messages from The Worm. And three times, the ships had disappeared, after transmitting wondrous and inexplicable sensor readings back to Tebazed.

    “My researchers are also frightened by the implications, not to mention the loss of life. But also, curious to a degree I have never seen. Even when I assign other projects, they all find themselves drawn back to the Belvares data. They can’t even really explain why.” Jargim paused before continuing. “But, why keep that from us? We are your only friends in this galaxy.”

    “It’s hard to explain.”

    Jargim had a flash of insight. “You thought it was personal. You thought you were chosen for a reason.” Gesso didn’t respond, so Jargim continued. “You were afraid that, if we were experiencing the same phenomena that you were, that it meant that you weren’t special. That the Worm’s love wasn’t for you alone.”

    “For us it’s not a worm,” Gesso admitted. “For us, it’s the Spider.” But he didn’t deny Jargim’s theory.

    The pair fell into silence. Jargim settled back into the booth, holding her glass. She wondered how many ragerians had ventured towards the signal beckoning them towards the black hole, how many individuals had disappeared in their thirty-year search for the origin point, as had happened to several dozens of her own colleagues in their initial contact with the Signal. She wondered, too, how many of her friends would still be alive, if the ragerians had shared their experiences sooner. Which brought her back to the present circumstances.

    She asked, “Why are you telling me this now?”

    “It was decided that keeping all this a secret was untenable.” Jargim looked at him quizzically. Gesso, so prompted, continued, “We analyzed our own behavior, and concluded that, were our positions reversed, we would have invaded you within six months of learning you might be keeping information of this nature from us. The Spider would have compelled us to. We marveled at your restraint so far, but we couldn’t count on it continuing.”

    “But why me? Why like this?

    The ragerian spoke hesitantly. “There are some things for which an ambassador goes to speak to the foreign minister and conveys an official message. And there are some things which… can’t be done that way.”

    Jargim let out a snort. That didn’t make any sense. “What does that even mean?”

    “There are lots of people on Aeria who are upset with the archon’s policies. He’s becoming paranoid, sees conspiracies around every corner.”

    “Small wonder, with your propensity for violent coups.”

    Gesso let the comment pass. “The project is still a state secret, and he’s afraid that a rival might use that as an excuse to seize power.”

    “So he approached me to help him with his political problem?”

    I told him you could be trusted.”

    “Ah.” Jargim now understood a little better. “You don’t trust our diplomatic corps.”

    “How could he?” Gesso was referring to the archon. “The tezhnid turned their nostrils up; the zaydrans betrayed our trust; the mirovandians have only ever attempt to take advantage of our misfortune.” A litany of neighboring powers unfriendly to the ragerians, but not without their reasons, Jargim thought; who would want to support such an unstable regime? Only the vailons.

    We have signed several treaties with your archon, even as others shied away.” Jargim paused to sip on her drink. “Surely that counts for something.”

    Gesso shook his head. “You know as well as I that those agreements were forced on your professional diplomats by your political leadership. They would happily undermine the relationship if given the chance.”

    Jargim didn’t respond. Her friend was correct, of course, but it would do no good to admit it out loud.

    “So what do you want me to do?”

    “Take this.” Gesso produced a data disk from a pocket and slid it across the table. “Bring it to your boss.”

    Jargim picked up the device, turned it over in her hand. “That’s not much of a plan.”

    “Why?

    “Subir and I… don’t have the best relationship, you could say.”

    “You’re in her cabinet. She’s kept you on all these years.”

    “We have an arrangement.” The vailon swirled her drink. “But I’m not her favorite councillor.”

    Gesso waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. You just have to meet with her.”

    “And tell her what? This isn’t a show of good faith; you people don’t do that kind of thing.”

    Her friend frowned, uncertain of her meaning. “Ragerians?”

    “Politicians.”

    “Ah.” Gesso seemed hurt by the insinuation. He downed the last sip of the Lauganah in his glass and poured himself another. “Fine. I accept the charge,” he said, as he took another swig. But he didn’t respond to Jargim’s question.

    “Come on. The archon must want something from Subir.”

    The ragerian sighed. “Okay.” He leaned forward and tapped the data disk. “This is just a preview. An actual show of good faith.”

    “Of course. It’s too much data to be put on a single disk. I knew that much.”

    Gesso continued. “In exchange for unfettered access to our data, both historical and live sensor streams, on the Belvares Maelstrom, the archon wants Subir to commit to a formal alliance.”

    Jargim sat back. “That’s a big ask.”

    “We’re giving up a lot.”

    “According to you.” Jargim knew her boss well enough to know what her response would be.

    “And according to you,” Gesso retorted. He also knew the score. “You’ll have to make her understand.”

    Jargim was not enjoying this. “I don’t think you get it. She doesn’t listen to me. We have an arrangement: I support her in public, and I don’t rock the boat. In return, I don’t have to be involved in politics, in any of it. I try very hard to keep it that way.”

    “Look, vousaich,” he replied, using the ragerian word for an intimate. “I wouldn’t be asking you if I didn’t think the deal was worth it for both of us.” Jargim was skeptical, but she let Gesso continue. “We’ve got four decades worth of data from our expeditions. That must be tempting.”

    Tempting for Jargim, perhaps, but for the administration? “Thankfully, I’m not the one who has to make decisions like that,” she said, unsure if she was responding to Gesso or her own thoughts. She downed the last of her Lauganah and placed her glass gently on the table. “But I’ll take it to Subir, and, for whatever it’s worth, I’ll recommend she make the deal.”

    “Good.”

    “But know that her actual decision will be based on political considerations, not on my word.”

    “I understand.”

    “Alright.” Neither said anything for a moment. Jargim wondered if Gesso was feeling any regrets for using their relationship for crass political ends. She wondered if Gesso thought they had a relationship at all anymore.

    She said, after a while, “I think it’s time for me to be getting back.”

    Gesso nodded and gulped down the rest of his own drink. “Sure. You have to appear on a stage, or something.”

    “Yeah.”

    Jargim stood, and Gesso followed suit. “There’s one more thing you should know,” he said.

    “What’s that?”

    “The Spider’s latest message was for me.”

    Jargim was stunned. “What did it say?”

    Gesso adjusted his jacket. “It said, ‘Embrace the center of the web, and its limits,’ followed by a date and time.”

    “When?”

    “Six months from now. And before you ask, I am planning on going.”

    Jargim didn’t respond right away. She was at a loss for words. Finally, she found her voice. “I’m so sorry.”

    “Why? It’s an honor.”

    “You’re not scared?”

    “No.” Gesso reached out to touch Jargim’s left horn, a gesture of reassurance. “I feel this compulsion, as if I have no choice in the matter. I am… content with that.”

    He turned to go. “You coming?” he asked over his shoulder. Jargim stood, rooted to the spot, for a moment, before she remembered to follow him back to the reception.
     
    Chapter Eighteen - The Varelviv Question
  • The War

    The Seban Commonwealth invaded the Cyggan Empire in December 273. Honoring the defensive pact with the cyggans presented the Director-General with a problem. The main hyperlane route from vailon to cyggan space ran straight through the heart of varelviv territory. While the Treaty of 264 allowed for limited amounts of civilian travel through their systems, a war fleet was clearly outside the scope of the agreement. Subir’s attempts to negotiate with the new varelviv overlord, Hoggagha II, [1] were immediately met with a hostile retort, complete with the promise of vengeance on any persons who violated their territorial sovereignty. For the first twelve months of the war, then, the Governance could only step up its shipments of military aid to the cyggans while the Diplomatic Corps continued to negotiate with the intransigent varelvivi. In the meantime, the Unified Navy took advantage of this period to retrofit its ships with the latest reactors and weapons systems, and its officer corps absorbed the inaugural class of graduates from the first-of-its-kind space combat academy located at Con Viab. The fleet also had a new admiral, Jargim den Vatoris, who took command following the untimely demise of Modrig den Harak in 273. [2] With loans and shipments of resources continuing to flow, the cyggan Imperial Navy was able to stand its ground against the first wave of seban attacks on its defensive line along the northwest border of the empire.

    Throughout 274 and into the following year, Subir continued to negotiate with the varelvivi. But Hoggagha appeared to take a special joy in stringing along the vailon envoys sent to Viverva, hinting at compromises in one session only to kick them out of the imperial palace the next. The Director-General, though frustrated by the lack of progress, was unwilling to alter course; and as calls for Subir to change her policy intensified in the Assembly and even in her inner circle of advisors, she only dug her heels in further. But by mid-year 275, it was clear even to Subir that further negotiations would only be a waste of time, especially after the overlord, seemingly daring the administration to act, suddenly announced the closure of the VIS border to all Governance traffic in July. With this last blow to the possibility of a peaceful settlement, Subir finally admitted the necessity of the use of force to find a solution. In August, with the fleet upgrades completed, Task Force Mirasma set out from its base at Con Viab towards the VIS bastion in the Bihjall system.

    Subir maintained communications with the Supreme Palace on Viverva right up to, and indeed beyond, the moment TF Mirasma launched its assault on Starbase Bihjall. Even as laser blasts began to wear away at the station’s armor, she still held out hope of finding a diplomatic solution. But Hoggagha relished renewed war and a chance to take revenge on behalf of their parent Spagruum and their people, and they had mobilized the Sovereign Navy earlier in the year. TF Mirasma overwhelmed the defenses at Bihjall and occupied the starbase by the end of 276; within a month of the new year varelviv bombs were falling on the Governance defenses at Prothon, along the border with the core VIS systems.

    TF Mirasma replenished its stores at the occupied station and set sail to counterattack the enemy. The vailon defenders at Prothon held out for several months, but with food supplies low they finally surrendered in early July. The varelvivi barely had time to occupy the captured station, let alone conduct major repairs on their damaged fleet, before TF Mirasma arrived in-system on the 14th. Though the VIS force attempted to flee, TF Mirasma gave chase, eventually running them down near the edge of the system. The resulting battle was a bloodbath. 41 vailon ships, including eight destroyers, faced off against 54 varelvivi ships, fourteen destroyers and 40 corvettes, but the TUG had a decisive edge in firepower, shielding, and, thanks to the new naval academy, training. The task force destroyed four varelviv destroyers and 24 corvettes, in exchange for only four corvettes of its own. The defeat crippled the VIS war machine, whose shipbuilding industry could not make good the losses, and was a clear signal that the varelvivi would not be able to put up any serious resistance to an invasion this time.

    BattleofProthon.jpg

    The Battle of Prothon was chaotic, but the superior technology and discipline of the Governance forces proved decisive.

    SeafallenCruiser.jpg

    The newest addition to the Governance fleet would always stand out from vailon designs.
    The early part of the war also featured the shakedown cruise of the recently discovered Seafallen Cruiser, which promised to be a powerful addition to the Unified Navy. A hydrothermal exploratory team stumbled upon the crash site of the ancient ship on the ocean floor near the north pole of Kampira in March 274. Though its size presented a challenge, a joint project between the Science Directorate and the Labor Directorate successfully raised the alien vessel from the depths and towed it to the fleet shipyards at Con Viab, where naval engineers attempted to discern whether the ship could be retrofitted for combat. While some parts of the ship would remain resolutely alien, the teams of researchers were able to identify most of the key systems and adapt them to vailon use, and the cruiser was inducted into the Unified Navy in 278. The ship was pressed into service quickly, conducting independent operations against isolated outposts in the border cluster over the course of the next two years. During these missions, its crew got a taste for the firepower of their new ship, which greatly outstripped anything currently in the fleet. Its worth and capabilities now proven, the Seafallen Cruiser joined the main body of the fleet in time for its final push on the varelviv capital.

    TF Mirasma’s invasion of the varelviv core had begun in 277. Over two years, the fleet proceeded to capture the uninhabited and lightly defended systems around the edge of the core cluster of the VIS. Three separate counterattacks at Ebrxinda resulted in significant damage for the cobbled-together varelviv fleets but only minor delays for the task force. By the end of 278, the vailon position was secure, and the task force had only to wait for the Seafallen Cruiser to join up in mid-279 for the final invasion of the VIS core worlds. But even with overwhelming superiority, Admiral Vatoris moved cautiously. In phase one of Operation Mandible, the task force attacked the starbase at Vijimar, drawing varelviv resources away from Viverva to reinforce Qeni-Habraal in that system. Two counterattacks were beaten off, in September and October, and by the end of the month the vailons were in control of the system. The second phase saw the task force bypass the colony at Qeni-Habraal in favor of a direct assault on the varelviv capital in the Ava-Fobb system. By February 280, Governance forces had occupied the Sovereign Fleet headquarters orbiting the star and blockaded the system, with the main body of the task force settling in for a protracted siege of Viverva.

    For the next 34 months, the fleet invested the varelviv capital, targeting military facilities and carefully avoiding civilian casualties with its bombardment. With the navy thus occupied, the administration had few forces available when they were suddenly faced with a new conflict and the defense of another ally. In December 280, the saathids suddenly and without warning invaded Aerian space, threatening the fragile ragerian state with annihilation. The other civilized states in the neighborhood issued formal denunciations of the invasion but otherwise made no moves to defend the ragerians, preferring not to put their own citizens at risk. Instead, it was left to the Governance alone to come to their aid. Unfortunately for the archon and his people, all the administration could offer in the short term was financial assistance; military aid could take a year to reach the northeast quadrant, and a diversionary invasion of the southern reaches of saathid space was even further off, with the Unified Navy in the midst of its campaign against the varelvivi. Subir’s communications to the archon reaffirmed their alliance, but she could offer little more than reassurances until the conclusion of the conflict on the Governance’s own border.

    As the calendar flipped to 283, the end appeared near. After the protracted siege and orbital bombardment campaign, the Unified Ground Forces [see appendix] finally put boots on the ground in late November. Twenty-one armies landed on Viverva and quickly overwhelmed what remained of the varelviv defenders. Within weeks, vailon units were in control of most of their strategic objectives, and six divisions were rapidly closing in on the imperial palace complex on the outskirts of the capital city. After decades of propaganda about the vailon barbarians, mass exoduses of varelvivi from cities to the countryside occurred in nearly every region, creating chaos for the invaders, who were under strict instructions to avoid civilian casualties, and preventing a smooth and organized takeover of the planet. The chaos also had the side effect of allowing the escape of Overlord Hoggagha and their entourage, who were able to flee not just from the rapidly advancing UGF but from the system entirely, evading the blockade and linking up with the remnants of the Sovereign Navy in the Sauu system. Though Viverva was declared secure in February, Hoggagha’s escape ensured the war would drag on.

    The respite for the varelviv leadership turned out to be temporary. In July, TF Mirasma tracked down the overlord’s flotilla and nearly wiped it out, with only a few ships, along with Hoggagha themself, escaping to the neighboring Cador system. In October, the end finally came; on the third attempt, Admiral Vatoris was successful in capturing the fleeing autocrat and putting an end to varelviv resistance. Hoggagha, bowing to the inevitable, acquiesced to an armistice and, on December 15, formally abdicated the throne of the VIS. It would be left to the occupying forces to steer the varelvivi people into a new age of liberty.

    PeaceVIS3rd.jpg

    Overlord Hoggagha II abdicated their throne on December 15, 283, bringing to a close an era of hostility between the varelvivi and the vailons.

    The Peace

    The abdication of Hoggagha II was just one part of Subir’s emerging plans for a postwar settlement with the empire. As soon as Viverva was declared free of enemy forces in February 283, Governance administrators descended on the planet to rebuild varelviv society from the ground up. All vestiges of the slaving economy were swept away; former slaves could choose between returning to their original communities or becoming fully fledged citizens in the new polity set to be born from the ashes of the VIS. While some, mostly those captured in the last several years and thus with recent memories of their homeworlds, chose the former option, the vast majority opted to participate in their remaking of their current circumstances. Until the overlord could be made to abdicate, however, the governing of the former VIS was carried out on an interim basis, with a vailon occupying authority working in concert with local officials. The extant central bureaucracy was completely dismantled, and the slaving guild was abolished; anyone associated with the former government would be permanently excluded from administration posts.

    Once the overlord signed the armistice and formally abdicated in November, the occupying authority was able to begin the process of reestablishing local sovereignty. To start, elections would be held for a Constituent Assembly, whose primary task would be the writing of a new constitution. With vailon envoys spread throughout the several varelviv colonies as monitors, elections were held throughout the month, and the first representational varelviv government in centuries was sworn in on December 11. The Constituent Assembly’s first act was to give its new state a new name: the Irenic Varelviv Mandate. For the following weeks, with guidance from political and constitutional experts from the Governance, the Constituent Assembly created a set of legal frameworks for the new polity, emphasizing democratic accountability and the securing of the rights of the citizenry.

    It was during the debate over the citizenship clause, one of the last articles to be written, that cracks began to show in the façade. An early draft of the clause mirrored the language found in the Governance’s own constituent documents, granting unrestricted citizen rights to any individual born within the borders of the state, and a pathway to full rights to any immigrant who so desired. When the section was read before the full assembly, however, many of the varelvivi present were outraged. The proposed clause, while perhaps befitting a society of vailons curious about the universe and welcoming to all, ran counter to all of varelviv culture and history. This faction, presented with the argument that their history need not dictate their future, [3] began to attack the continued presence of the occupation authorities at the deliberations, asking why Governance officials should dictate the shape of the new government the varelvivi were trying to build for themselves. With the deliberations growing more heated and many representatives threatening to walk out, the vailon minders backed down. A clause with more limited terms for citizenship was introduced and passed by an overwhelming margin, and the nascent varelviv state took a decisive turn away from the model of its patron.

    The debate over the citizenship clause was a harbinger of things to come. Once the new varelviv government was sworn in, Subir began negotiations over the future relationship between the two neighboring, and now ostensibly friendly, states. The first coordinator, a former scientist by the name of Daggatuum, was eager to sign every commercial and research pact that the vailon ambassador put in front of them – the varelviv economy needed whatever help it could get to rebuild after the occupation – but they refused to sign any documents committing the Mandate to a formal alliance with the Governance. Daggatuum, and their government in the new assembly, wanted to avoid interstellar entanglements in order to pursue their own ambitions in making and remaking varelviv society. The ambassador was forced to settle for mere articles of friendship and cooperation in lieu of a military alliance.

    Subir had successfully ended the threat that the varelvivi posed to the Governance, but it proved to be something of a bittersweet victory. After the initial battles proved the superiority of the Governance forces, she could have negotiated a truce with the former overlord, allowing TF Mirasma to provide support to the beleaguered cyggans to the west. Instead, mission creep took over, and the Third Varelviv War morphed into a war to overthrow the VIS government. But this single-minded focus on the near threat exposed the Governance’s allies to extreme dangers of their own.


    Footnotes
    [1] Spagruum I had died in 267, passing the throne to their offspring.
    [2] The exact circumstances of his demise remained a closely guarded secret. In the absence of a confirmed story, rumors abounded throughout Governance space, including the possibility that Harak was alive and well and in hiding somewhere in an out-of-way system.
    [3] For what else was the point of the entire endeavor?
     
    Appendix - The Unified Ground Force
  • Interstellar conflicts in the third century were dominated by space combat, but ground-based warfare still had an important role to play in seizing and occupying planetary colonies. The Governance’s own Unified Ground Forces traces its history to the early days of the First Varelviv War. A season of panic and chaos followed Spagruum’s declaration of war in 224; it was widely believed that varelviv bombs would be falling on the capital within a month. Though this proved not to be the case, the Vakor administration recognized their unpreparedness for an invasion and took emergency measures to fortify the vailon colonies. Calls went out on each of Tebazed, Eldetha, and Varba, for volunteers to join local militia organizations, which would be the last line of defense against the slavers. To the relief of all, the militias never had to prove their worth, as six months of a phony war allowed the Unified Navy to organize its own forward defenses and prevent the varelvivi from breaking through once they finally began their assault. With the entirety of the conflict taking place in the border cluster between the inhabited sectors of the two polities, the militias languished, underfunded and undermanned for their primary objective, for the duration of the war.

    In light of the success of the Unified Navy in preventing a varelviv invasion of the core worlds, after the war the Admiralty Board retained the principle authority to provide for the defense of the Governance. Only a few military strategists believed that a professional ground force would be a relevant part of future wars, and these advisors were relegated to the outskirts of the planning community. However, during their long exile, these individuals put together a coherent plan for a future Unified Defense Force, built around a small nucleus of professional soldiers, who would be supplemented by reservists and volunteers during wartime. Understanding that planetary defenses would inevitably be overwhelmed by an enemy who controlled the near-space environment, they developed a doctrine that focused on defense-in-depth around key strategic points, with the intent to delay an invasion until the Unified Navy could come to their rescue. With the Admiralty in charge of the military establishment, however, the so-called ground-pounders were ignored, even frowned upon for wasting their energies on a dead-end area of military strategy.

    It took renewed war with the varelvivi to focus the minds of the Admiralty on the actual practical problems of planetary warfare. This was a boon for the interwar army advocates, many of whom were promoted as plans for a formal ground force were put into motion. The naval officers, however, wanted to move beyond the limited conception of a ground defense force tasked with protecting key installations in the exigent circumstances of an enemy invasion. Their own war plans foresaw the possibility of an invasion of the varelviv home cluster, and simulations suggested that protracted bombardment would not be able to dislodge determined defenders or force a surrender on its own. A ground invasion would be necessary to create the conditions for a Governance victory. This generated some friction with the old army advocates, whose vision for a defensive force excluded the possibility of offensive actions. In many ways, these original architects of the UGF were the inheritors of the utopian traditions of vailon culture, believers in the utility of argumentation over and above the violent application of arms. Unfortunately for them, their ideas were subsumed by the modernist military leadership of mid-century administrations, who sought a more aggressive role for the TUG in galactic affairs and wanted to build the apparatus of power projection. That their plans for the Second Varelviv War were wildly optimistic did not prevent their vision for a professional ground force from becoming reality.

    The official founding of the UGF occurred on May 12, 253, in the early days of the SVW, as a specialized branch of the Unified Navy. In the first year, three divisions of troops were recruited on Eldetha, with plans in motion to train a further twelve divisions by 257, the earliest date an invasion of a varelviv colony could be considered. As the war took shape in the second half of the decade, however, it became clear that no such invasion of the VIS core would be possible, and recruitment was slowed. These units were kept separate from the existing colonial militias, whom the Admiralty still relied on for planetary defense. It wasn’t until the late 260s and the end of the war that the militia units were formally incorporated into the slowly growing UGF, though they would remain a separate branch with completely separate command structures. The heart of the UGF remained the professional corps of soldiers, which in the 270s grew to encompass ten divisions and over 150,000 personnel in total.

    Without first-hand knowledge of ground combat, the UGF’s ability to prepare for actual battles was limited, so the Admiralty initiated a program to send observers to battlefields across the quadrant. Individuals embedded with cyggan and mith-fell forces as they participated in invasions on several planets. During the Cyggan-Varelviv War of 265-268, a team of 120 individuals, a mix of army and navy officers as well as civilians from the Military Applications section of the Science Directory, traveled through VIS space to observe the siege of Qeni-Ghirgaam in the Sauu system. A six-month bombardment preceded the invasion, clearing the way for 98 divisions of the imperial army to land in October 267. The Governance observers embedded with the cyggan forces witnessed the destruction that orbital munitions could wreak on the surface; imperial ships, while generally targeting military installations and hardened facilities, blasted away without much regard for the accuracy of their fire, resulting in the deaths of millions and reducing many cities and towns to rubble. The observers also witnessed how entrenched defenders were easily flanked and destroyed by attackers who could be transported across and around battlefields at will, a lesson the UGF would take to heart as it developed its own doctrine for planetary invasions.

    Still, on the eve of the Third Varelviv War the Admiralty’s ground doctrine was still in its infancy. It was during this third conflict with the slaving empire that the UGF would come into its own as a fighting force. In the first days of the invasion, as the Unified Navy advanced into varelviv space, it quickly became clear that this time the varelvivi would not be able to resist the Governance fleet. The UGF threw itself into preparations for an invasion of Viverva, updating preliminary plans prepared two decades earlier during the SVW and launching a recruiting drive to expand the force from a mere ten divisions – far too few to maintain an occupation of a planet of some 40 billion inhabitants – to 105, organized into 21 ‘dragoons’ of five divisions each. The recruitment drive featured two parallel tracks. First, the Labor Directory was instructed to encourage more young individuals recently out of cohort to apply for postings with the UGF. Second, the UGF itself established a recruitment office and set up branches in every major city in the Governance. With both of these channels active from the beginning of the war, by 282 the UGF was able to count nearly 1.7 million personnel in its ranks.

    The 21 dragoons that invaded Viverva in 282 were commanded by a young mith-fell general who took the official name Plume of Teal. Cwaar was born to immigrant parents on Varba in 241, and was thus a natural-born citizen of the TUG, among the first generation of xenos to claim that birthright. After a few years as an industrial worker on her homeworld, she signed up for the nascent professional army in 264, mere weeks before the end of the SVW. Having missed out on that particular conflict, she dedicated herself to advancing through the ranks in time for the next war, which she was certain through her feathers would come sooner rather than later. With the UGF starved for high quality individuals – the most talented military minds tended to choose to serve in the much more prestigious Unified Navy – Cwaar stood out for her competence and charisma. Her assignments included a position on the general staff, helping to shape the emerging doctrine on ground combat, and she was one of the few officers in the UGF to have actual combat experience, earned during a tour of duty with the anti-slavery patrol in the border cluster. A general by the age of 35, and in command of an entire corps at 38, she was an obvious choice to lead the Governance armies in the field during the invasion.

    The armies led by Plume of Teal followed a doctrine that had been thoroughly developed during the years of peacetime but never tested until the Battle of Viverva. UGF divisions consisted of a mix of light and heavy infantry; heavy infantry units were typically outfitted with a variety of powered exoskeleton systems, granting them greater firepower than their light infantry counterparts but generally limiting their mobility in combat. For fire support the army remained reliant on naval forces, whom the standard doctrine assumed would achieve atmospheric superiority and destroy heavy emplacements prior to the deployment of ground forces. During combat operations on Viverva, the shortcomings of this system became evident, as conflicts between the branches often led to excessive friendly casualties and allowed varelviv units to regroup after being defeated. Following the three-month invasion, the UGF leadership took stock of these shortcomings and began to advocate for the development of their own fire support capabilities, whether via indirect artillery or with an atmospheric combat force independent of the Unified Navy. These calls were heeded by the Subir administration, and the general staff hoped to have these units available before beginning any operations against the saathids.
     
    Chapter Nineteen - Drift
  • Allies in Need

    The Saathid-Vailon War [1] began in December of 280 with an unprovoked invasion of ragerian space. The ragerians, so alike in outward appearance to the vailons, screamed for help from their allies as their initial line of defense was quickly overwhelmed by the saathid onslaught. But the Governance military forces were all engaged in the conflict with the varelviv slavers; even if Director-General Subir had ordered them to abandon their current missions and make for the nearest saathid system at full speed, it would have been years before they could attack the saathids. This was cold comfort to the ragerian archon, who was staring down an existential threat to his people, and he did not mince words during his conferences with the Director-General and her top military aides. Every meeting, the Governance reply was the same: delay, delay, delay the saathids as long as you can. The ragerians were not the only allies who were waiting on vailon assistance; to the west, the Cyggan Empire was barely holding the line against the fleets of the Seban Commonwealth. Ostensibly, the Third Varelviv War had been initiated in order to open up hyperlane routes to the west so that the TUG could support the cyggan defense of their territory. But the invasion had taken on a life of its own, and bringing an end to the varelviv threat had become the priority for the administration, to the detriment of both allies.

    As the siege of Viverva dragged on through 281 and into 282, the Admiralty Board debated what the next priority should be for the fleet. While a few of the admirals expressed support for splitting TF Mirasma and providing support to both the cyggans and the ragerians, most felt certain that such a course would invite disaster. Only the entire task force could hope to compete with the superior navies of either the sebans or the saathids. Thus the decision process boiled down to two choices: TF Mirasma could go west to assist in defending cyggan positions from seban assaults, or it could go north to open up a second front against the saathids, hopefully forcing them to divert resources from their invasion of ragerian space. To send TF Mirasma against the sebans would mean consigning the ragerians to their fate at the hands of the saathids, which would seem to make the vailons complicit in genocide. But sending the task force to attack the southern reaches of saathid space would entail abandoning their cyggan allies.

    For two years the Admiralty deferred a final decision, drawing up plans for each eventuality. Subir, preoccupied with domestic politics, allowed the admirals a great deal of leeway in setting military policy; without strong leadership or guidance, petty squabbles among the various factions in the Admiralty dominated their discussions. Success on the diplomatic front, however, rendered those debates moot. Overtures to the Pithok Confederacy were finally beginning to bear fruit. The pithoks had recently experienced a political upheaval of their own, bringing their political interests more in line with that of the Governance. A young scion of the ruling Aspinaca family came to power in the early ‘80s, promising broad reforms to widen the scope of politics and allow the hundreds of lesser pithok families to participate in the political process. [2] A more democratic system took root and undermined the plutocratic instincts of the old leadership. More importantly for the Governance in the short term, the new High Commissioner committed to an intervention in the cyggan-seban war on the cyggan side, to force the Seban Commonwealth to seek peace on agreeable terms. With the pithoks set to invade the sebans’ rear, [3] the Admiralty Board finally felt comfortable deciding to send the fleet to the saathid front.

    As soon as TF Mirasma captured Hoggagha and put an end to varelviv resistance in late 283, Admiral Vatoris was ordered to take her forces northwards, through mith-fell space and towards the saathid-controlled systems hugging the galactic core. In 285, the long-sought pithok intervention finally came, forcing the sebans to sign a peace treaty with the Cyggan Empire. [4] Meanwhile, on Tebazed, Subir’s neglect of war policy was well-noted, and criticized, by many in the Assembly as well as more than a few of her own cabinet officials. But with her term rapidly approaching its end, and with no sign that she was considering running for reselection, these critics looked to organize themselves with the goal of exerting influence on the next Director-General. This so-called Red Legion was not a large faction, relative to the other parties in the Assembly, but counted among its members a significant number of influential administration figures, including Mtche’ar, close confidant of Subir and, under the official name Claws of Cyan, governor of The Veil sector. Mtche’ar had a front-row seat to the administration’s lurching from crisis to crisis in the second half of Subir’s term; he considered it very lucky that none of the problems truly threated the security of the Governance. In the ensuing administration, he hoped that the Red Legion would be able to use its influence to prevent similar failures from occurring.

    NewFactionRedLegion.jpg

    The Red Legion formed in early 285, hoping to exert its influence over the next Director-General.

    The Selection of 285

    In the second half of Subir’s term as Director-General, she grew increasingly distant from the policy-making functions of her role. As her administration shifted to a war footing, her domestic priorities fell by the wayside. Investment projects on the colonies were canceled as resources were diverted to military production, and long-planned reforms, including aspects of Subir’s reorganization program, were delayed. The administration appeared to be drifting aimlessly along, just biding its time until the next selection. Though her personal approval rating remained relatively high, her implicit power waned as her term approached its end and it became clear that her influence in the next administration would be minimal.

    Subir used her remaining influence to support her longtime colleague and friend, Galdrig den Piriam. Now 72, he had been a senior administration official for most of his adult life, having been appointed Director of Labor way back in 242. [5] Despite his advanced age, [6] he was the early favorite due to his long experience in government and the backing of the two largest factions in the Assembly, the Xeno Liberty Initiative and the Liberty Now Council. But some discontent with the status quo was beginning to emerge, and a number of younger individuals emerged to challenge the establishment figure. By the time of the selection, two candidates had raised their profiles enough to become serious challengers to the front-runner: Valdrig den Harak, a young scientist who had already published several papers on the physical properties of n-space, [7] and Birm den Boknar, a sociologist and urban planner who had been a junior member of Subir’s cabinet since 270.

    SelectionOf285.jpg

    With Subir out of the picture, three candidates competed in the Selection of 285.

    Both challengers found success in attacking the stagnant political establishment. The XLI-LNC coalition had exercised an iron grip on power in the Assembly for nearly seven decades, and for much of that era had either controlled directly or been partnered with the sitting Director-General. While the 3rd century had been a good one for the vailons and all citizens of the Governance, during their long reign the leadership of the two parties had grown complacent, bereft of fresh ideas for the future. Only a burst of energy from the most recent Director-General, a brash outsider who grew up outside the typical pipeline to power, had given them renewed vigor. But by the second half of her term, she had been captured by the institutional interests of the administrative apparatus, and the political parties were left adrift. Instead of recognizing their predicament, they doubled down, backing Piriam precisely because he represented a continuation of the status quo. They left themselves vulnerable to charismatic individuals railing against the exclusionary system of high politics in Sedrin. Harak and Boknar were able to capitalize, in some cases even coordinating their campaigns to knock down the front runner from his perch.

    For the six months of 285, as tradition dictated, none of the three candidates campaigned openly. For Piriam and Harak, the “shadow campaign” took the usual shape: speeches and media appearances to discuss particular policy topics, and proxies deployed across Governance space to lay the groundwork for their preferred individual. Boknar, too, had an organization which engaged in these activities on her behalf, but she also exploited the state of limbo in which she and the other ‘candidates’ resided. Though she had not held public office before, [8] her time near the top echelon of the Subir administration had taught her the rules of bureaucratic politics, a game which she learned to play very well. As she set her sights on the top job, she went straight to the actual voters. The College had long been a marginalized institution, gathering for a few days every other year to rubber-stamp decisions made by the administration, but they still had an important formal role in selecting new Directors-General. Boknar was able to ingratiate herself with many magistrates by simply reaching out to them and including them in her deliberative processes. She also utilized her skills at bureaucratic in-fighting to manipulate the landscape in the College to her favor: she picked off a number magistrates from the Piriam camp by convincing them that Subir and Piriam had sold out the colonies and become entangled in Tebazed’s web of political interests. Thus, when the selection formally opened in July, she had built a substantial advantage. Even though she finished in third in the public vote, held in early August, [9] the College session commenced on August 18 with a clear majority of magistrates offering her their support.

    Boknar had not yet clinched victory, however. When the traditional straw poll was held at the beginning of the College session, Piriam and Harak were shocked to discover the size of Boknar’s lead. After the public vote, the pair had come to believe that it was essentially a two-individual race, with Boknar too far behind to be a serious contender. Instead, both were forced to change their posture and go into attack mode. In the debates held for the magistrates, Piriam derided Boknar’s credentials, arguing that such an inexperienced administrator would be overwhelmed by the responsibilities of the Director-General. Meanwhile, Harak went after her policy platform, observing that for all the things Boknar had to say, her speeches and proposals were very light on the specifics of what her administration would look like. Taken together, these attacks suggested that Boknar’s candidacy was paper-thin and asked, what did Boknar actually stand for?

    For two days, Piriam and Harak continued to hammer away at Boknar, and the three seemed to be neck-and-neck in the vote counts. The magistrates began to whisper amongst themselves that they would have to sit in session for a week or more before taking a formal vote, a stark contrast to the day-long sessions it had taken to select the last five Directors-General. But Boknar had one more trick up her sleeve. On the night of August 20th, she invited Harak to a private, one-on-one meeting. They met for three hours, as Piriam, the magistrates, and even their own aides waited and speculated and worried. Finally, they emerged with a deal. Somehow – and neither party would ever reveal the details of their conversation – Boknar had convinced Harak to withdraw from the race and endorse Boknar, leaving Piriam out in the cold. It was a stunning turn of events after a week of stunning reversals, but Boknar was emerging victorious.

    The formal vote of the College the following day made it official. Birm den Boknar would become the 27th Director-General of the Tebazed Unified Governance. But one significant question lingered: What exactly did Boknar want to do with her new office?

    NewRulerBoknar.jpg

    At the start of her term, the new Director-General’s priorities were a mystery.


    Footnotes

    [1] A misnomer of sorts, as it was in this period that vailons ceased to be a majority of the polity they had founded centuries ago. Still, official galactic sources persisted in using the dominant species of particular states as shorthand for the whole.
    [2] The story of the rise and fall of Lertrak Aspinaca is worthy of its own book, and it cannot be done justice in this setting.
    [3] Though the pithok invasion would not occur until 285, their military buildup along the border sent a clear signal and forced the sebans to slow their own invasion of cyggan space.
    [4] The peace treaty was not exactly favorable to the cyggans; they were forced to surrender several border systems and an outlying colony to the sebans. But the terms were a lot better than they would have gotten if seban fleets had been allowed to penetrate to the cyggan core worlds.
    [5] In the period leading up to the selection he also held the position of Director of the Core Sector, to which he was appointed during the Directorate reorganization of 272.
    [6] The College had not selected an individual in their 70s to ascend to the Director-General position since 182, more than a century in the past.
    [7] N-space was a theoretical hyperdimension that allowed for the passage of matter between wormholes. Though several states had already claimed the ability to map wormholes passages and send manned ships between them, such a technology was still in the distant future for the Governance.
    [8] Minor cabinet officers in charge of science departments were promoted through the ranks and insulated from the political vicissitudes of the day.
    [9] Piriam narrowly edged out Harak, garnering 40% of the vote to the latter’s 38%. Boknar came in at 26%, with the remainder going to an assortment of minor candidates.
     
    Chapter Twenty - Free Haven
  • By the early 240s, it had become clear that the galaxy was populated not by a handful of alien species but dozens of different xenos, many of whom were at roughly the same level of technological development as the vailons. Demographers in the Science Directory, Sociology Section, were intrigued by the possibility of a multi-xeno society, and so they built a model to predict xeno integration. The model incorporated a range of factors, such as the level of migration between alien societies (largely a guess, given the lack of practical data on the topic) and the likelihood of border realignments as a result of war or diplomacy. Running simulations using a variety of assumptions, the demographers projected that, in the long term, vailons would become a minority of the population in their own state. In different circumstances, the model spit out different dates for the demographic transition to a vailon minority, but the most likely scenario put the event around the late 4th or early 5th century. This was, obviously, not an immediate concern for the incumbent administration, which paid little attention to obscure events many generations in the future, so the Sociology Section filed away the results.

    The demographic trajectory of the Governance underwent a major shift during the mid-century refugee crisis. With armed conflicts breaking out across the galaxy, billions of sentients were forced to leave their homeworlds. Some fled or were evicted by bloodthirsty xenociders; others were displaced during the wars of conquest waged by the so-called civilized [1] societies. Valdrig den Subir, Director-General from 265 to 285, focused her foreign policy on tackling this crisis. During the first eight years of her term, she made great strides towards addressing the crisis through interstellar cooperation, forging agreements with states in all four quadrants.

    War, however, derailed her ambitions, both foreign and domestic. In 273, the Seban Commonwealth invaded the Governance’s cyggan allies; in 275 the vailons themselves renewed their long conflict with the varelvivi; and in 280 Subir agreed to honor the defense pact she had signed with the ragerians against a saathid invasion. Once the Governance found itself in three simultaneous wars, the administration could no longer sustain efforts to maintain partnerships across the galaxy in the name of liberty; more immediate concerns leapt to the forefront. The dream of building multi-lateral partnerships to manage the tide of refugees was set aside.

    The leadership vacuum that ensued had profound consequences. Exact numbers will never be known, but some scholars estimate that the lack of coordination in dealing with the crisis led to an additional 20 billion deaths. Governments, left to fend for themselves, felt they had little choice but to shut their borders to the convoys streaming out of the war-torn regions of the galaxy. While a humanitarian crisis was a terrible thing, each independently calculated that it would be far worse to see their own finite resources overburdened with the needs of billions of non-citizens. Without a centralized body ensuring an equitable sharing of the burden, no one state could run the risk of taking on a disproportionate share of the refugees.

    In this respect, the vailon polity was exceptional. As a reflection of the peculiar characteristics of modern [2] vailon society, the political culture of the Governance was uniquely devoted to the principles of tolerance and meritocracy. Free migration and refugee resettlement were core values to many vailons; these ideas were essential to the society they wished to embody. When the first major refugee convoys began arriving at border posts at the edge of Governance space, there was tremendous excitement in the public at the opportunity to make good on those values. The administration, however, was unprepared to handle the influx. Subir and her cabinet were entirely focused on the conduct of the wars. Their saving grace – an already existing capacity to scale up migrant and refugee processing rapidly – was a gift from Subir’s predecessor.

    When the first wave of interstellar refugees arrived during the administration of Vabrig den Telnik, the Interior Directory created a dedicated section, Migration, to handle the influx. The new section had two priorities at its founding: build enough physical infrastructure in the border systems to process the incoming flow without delays, and hire the personnel necessary to staff those processing facilities as well as the resettlement centers to be scattered across Governance space. As an independent entity, the section was able to pull in the resources to accomplish its goals without relying on the whims of other bureaucrats who might have their own priorities. Very quickly, the section leadership also realized that the wave of the 250s might just be the tip of the iceberg. Internal projections showed increasing numbers of refugees in subsequent decades, potentially overwhelming the processing infrastructure just being put into place. Armed with this information, the leaders were able to develop plans to expand their capabilities quickly if it actually proved necessary in the future. Thus, once refugee flows indeed exploded in the 280s, the Migration Section was prepared to handle them, even without strong guidance from the Director-General.

    And the refugees came. In 285, a wave of sathoris, displaced by successive attacks from the Belmacosa Empire and the Djunn Bloodletters. In 286, and again in 299, large groups of pelx-cradonians, and in 291 and 295, furkians, all exiled from their homeworlds by the Jess’Inax Hive. Convoys of rontors in 292, and, after a reversal of fortune, of djunn in 298. The largest stream flowed from the collapsing ragerian state, conquered by the saathids between 287 and 289. For the decade following the first occupations, billions of ragerians fled the advancing tide, most making their way towards the friendlier confines of vailon territory. There was even a smattering of varelviv refugees entering the Governance. Defeat in the Third Varelviv-Vailon War had been followed by a brief but decisive invasion by the cyggans, which resulted in the annexation of several colonies; despite previous hostilities between the varelvivi and the vailons, many of the former preferred the relatively liberal rule of the TUG to the harsh autocratic regime of the Cyggan Empire.

    By the 290s, a disproportionate number of refugees was arriving at the borders of the Governance and not being turned away. Combined with the lax immigration regime that had existed since the 220s, this brought about a major shift in the demographic profile of the “vailon” state. At the beginning of the 280s, two-thirds of the population of the Governance were vailons (nearly half of whom still lived on the homeworld of Tebazed). By 290, the vailon proportion of the population had fallen below 50%. By 300, the percentage was below 38%. The founders continued to account for a large plurality of the population, however, and no one xeno species predominated over the others (the second-largest species, tezhnid, accounted for 8.5% of the population in 290 and 9.2% in 300). Throughout the last two decades of the century, vailons still occupied the vast preponderance of positions in the cabinet as well as the upper echelons of most directories; despite the decades of an increasingly diverse populace, there had never been a major xeno candidate for Director-General. Change in the halls of power, even in an ostensibly meritocratic society, comes but slowly.

    Nevertheless, a real shift was noticeable, whether one walked the streets of Sedrin, traversed the industrial heartland of Varba, or roamed the vast farmsteads of Ferdera. There were, of course, differences in the experiences of the several colonies of the Governance. On the vailon homeworld, the founders remained in the majority for decades to come. Fewer xenos chose to move into the long-established settlements across the surface of Tebazed; as a result, the metropolitan hinterlands continued to be a bastion of the vailon population, maintaining high growth rates via a steady birthrate and an increasing lifespan for the founder species. The capital, however, drew in millions of non-vailon citizens and foreigners. As the center of the state apparatus, it was by necessity an important destination for those seeking political fortune or influence. Sedrin, even by the 250s, had become the cosmopolitan city of the Governance; by the end of the century, it rivalled the likes of Mirovandia City and Jukla [3] in wealth and diversity. On the other hand, population centers on the outlying colonies tended to see polyglot communities, vailons mixing with a wide variety of xenos. Varba and Ferdera, both bordering mith-fell territory, were popular destinations for incoming migrants from the eastern regions of the galaxy, with tezhnids in particular settling there in large numbers. Elsewhere, many sathoris put down roots on Firintarogga, the watery world initially given over to mith-fell immigrants early in the Telnik administration; and by the end of the century Kampira was home to significant concentrations of pithoks and pobellins.

    It was on The Veil, however, that the multi-species community of the Governance was most visible. The so-called “Gaia” planet, [4] the third orbiting the star Turim, had been discovered by explorers in 214, occupied by the varelvivi between 224 and 264, and finally settled by vailon colonists in 267. The new colony was a testament to vailon ingenuity and persistence; within a few years it had also become a prominent symbol of their generosity and commitment to the rights of all individuals. With its sheer diversity of climates, the Subir administration chose the planet as the location for thousands of new settlements needed to house the refugees streaming in from all quadrants of the galaxy. This created a situation that was, as far as anyone in the Governance knew, unique: a colony home to major concentrations of individuals from dozens of different species. [5] Obevni, ragerians, rontors, pithoks, sathori, pelx-cradonians, and furkians all lived in significant numbers on the planet, along with smaller communities of mith-fell, norillga, and tezhnids. Many vailons also migrated there in the early years, helping staff the resettlement centers and other administrative positions. By 280, however, internal migration to the colony had slowed, and the few vailons who lived there would eventually be greatly outnumbered by the xenos. [6] The flood of refugees also generated explosive population growth; by the end of the century, barely three decades after its founding, it was the second-most populated planet in the Governance. [7]

    The changing composition of the Governance was a self-sustaining phenomenon. With a growing xeno share of the population, the proportion of non-vailon new births was also increasing. Additionally, the rate of population migration to the TUG was accelerating, including both refugees and those who chose freely to seek a better life. For refugees, who were being turned away from so many other states in the latter decades of the 3rd century, the acceleration was particularly striking. In the two decades prior to 280, refugees had typically arrived in large groups after specific, catastrophic events, but the yearly average was in the tens of millions. Over the 280s, as warmaking grew across the galaxy, the pool of refugees increased exponentially, and so did the number of refugees heading directly to the Governance. By 290, a billion refugees were entering the TUG every year; ten years later that figure was three billion. Immigration, too, increased over these years, though at a slower rate – from one billion in 280 to just over two and a half billion in 300.

    At the turn of the century, the Governance could no longer be truly said to be a vailon society. Rather, the TUG had slowly but surely morphed into a cosmopolitan, multi-species society, the first of its kind in the galaxy. Despite being a member of the founder species, Birm den Boknar proved to be a fitting Director-General for the era, as her agenda strengthened assimilation programs for new arrivals and increased basic income guarantees for all citizens. She set the tone in her inauguration address, giving voice to the hope of so many vailons, for three centuries now, to see a truly free and open society:

    Today is the dawn of a new era. We have defined ourselves for too long by those around us, and by what we could do in the great wide galaxy out there. We have lost sight of our purpose. We must refocus on a purpose which allows us to perfect ourselves, to perfect the society we have built, before we turn outwards. We will be a shining beacon of hope. We will be a free haven to all those who seek shelter. Here, all individuals will be safe, and secure in prosperity. Every citizen, every person in the Governance will be free…


    Footnotes

    [1] Some scholars use an uncivilized/civilized dichotomy to differentiate between those xeno societies who wish to eradicate all other sentient beings and those who, even the warmongers among them, allowed for the existence of alien life.
    [2] That is, the period of time since the upheavals of The Collapse.
    [3] The capital cities of the Galactic Mirovandia Commonwealth and the Mith-Fell Independent Commonwealth, respectively.
    [4] The surface of the planet was a literal paradise, featuring biomes suitable to virtually every known and theoretical lifeform. When it was discovered, however, it was experiencing cyclical phase shifts, occurring every three months, that prevented it from being inhabited. While the planet was shifted out of phase, it became covered with a thick, purple fog – the inspiration for the unique name of the colony. A science team, led by early explorer and erstwhile leader of the Peaceful Progress Initiate Suldirm den Harak, was able to stabilize the planet in its habitable form in 220.
    [5] Of course, outside the colonial capital of Vilim, the various xenos generally lived in widely dispersed communities, each species located in a region well suited to their particular physiology.
    [6] Vailons accounted for only 3% of the population of The Veil in 300.
    [7] With some 39 billion individuals living on its surface in 300, The Veil had outstripped every other colony of the Governance, including the two oldest, Eldetha (35 billion) and Varba (32 billion), both founded more than fifty years earlier than the “Gaia” planet. Only Tebazed, with just over 60 billion individuals at the end of the century, surpassed it in population.
     
    Chapter Twenty-One - The Reforms of Birm den Boknar
  • Politics

    Birm den Boknar ran a successful campaign to be selected as the 27th Director-General of the Tebazed Unified Governance without ever really defining herself or the type of administration she wanted to lead. If she had had plans, she had kept them to herself. The ambiguity she cultivated was in many ways an asset during the campaign; it left her free to make promises to various groups that might have seemed… contradictory if they had ever been compared in public. With this calculated ambiguity, she was able to sway enough voters in the College to cobble together a majority without the formal backing of any faction or interest group. Among the parties in the Assembly, she was the favorite of none – but she had the grudging acceptance of all, each perhaps believing they could bend her to their own ends.

    A coalition comprised of the Xeno Liberty Initiative and the Liberty Now Council had effectively governed the Assembly and, by proxy, the political limits of the TUG for seven decades before Boknar’s rise. On the eve of the selection, the XLI-LNC coalition controlled 85% of the seats in the Assembly; [1] their party heads were the incumbent Director-General (Valdrig den Subir, leader of the LNC) and the leading candidate to succeed her (Galdrig den Piriam, in charge of the XLI). The coalition’s grip on power, however, was slipping, as evidenced by its inability to install its favored candidate to the top job. The perpetual third party of the Governance, the Peaceful Progress Initiative, had faded to irrelevance by the 280s, commanding only 10% of the seats in the Assembly and exerting little influence on the course of events.

    Two other small factions emerged in the early 280s, occupying previously neglected segments of the ideological spectrum. [2] The Conclave of Traditional Foundations first arose as an alliance of the various faith groups that were now beginning to be represented in significant quantities in the Governance. Though a majority of xeno immigrants (and especially their descendants) chose assimilation into vailon culture, many opted to retain their own cultural traditions. This often meant the introduction of new faiths and religious practices into the Governance. For historical reasons, many vailons felt uncomfortable at the newfound presence of organized religions, these sorts of institutions being linked with significant episodes of violence and destruction in Tebazed’s not-so-distant past. Still, some vailons were attracted to these imports, while others began to emphasize the need to recognize the traditional faiths of Tebazed as important institutions in their own right. This unlikely faction made an even more improbable choice for its leader – Jargim den Vathrag, the longtime Director of Science under both of the previous Directors-General, who had, if not publicly joined an officially recognized religious denomination, discovered a sort of spirituality in her explorations of the vast unknowns of the galaxy.

    Meanwhile, the newly organized Red Legion was much more an association of like-minded elites than a traditional political party. Led by Mtche’ar, [3] governor of The Veil, it consisted of members of the Assembly as well as high-level administration officials who were displeased with Subir’s handling of war policy. As Subir’s time as Director-General and interest in governance dwindled, the group promised to wield their influence in the subsequent administration to ensure that current and future wars were managed with energy and zeal. To underline the necessity of vigorous management, they pointed to the numerous protests that broke out in 284, which echoed the sentiment expressed in the anti-war movement of the Second Varelviv War. For the members of the Red Legion, a growing peace movement only underlined the failures of the Subir administration; they firmly believed that the public would support a war that was being handled well.

    NewFactionCommitteeOfTechnologists.jpg

    New factions emerged to shake up the political scene in the 280s, including the Committee of Technologists, strong backers of the new Director-General.

    Faced with this political landscape, Boknar had few strong allies upon whom she could rely. Those Members of the Assembly who were in her camp banded together to form their own organization, calling themselves the Committee of Technologists. The group could easily be described as eclectic, comprised as it was of individuals from many species and varying backgrounds. What they had in common, besides personal rapport with the Director-General, was a strong commitment to good governance above and beyond any particular ideological commitment. They were most accurately described as technocratic: the best decisions would inevitably be made by subject matter experts, and political considerations ought to be set aside. In this, they mirrored Boknar’s own persuasion – competent management with a focus on utilitarianism. This philosophy was a distinctly minoritarian one, lacking a great base of support in the wider population. Without widespread support or significant institutional backing, Boknar faced a difficult challenge as she began her term.

    Reforms

    Boknar was the first Director-General in recorded history to come to power in the middle of a major war. Though her inauguration speech focused on the traditional vailon narratives of peace, cooperation, and a welcome to all strangers as friends, [4] the early years of her term were consumed with the problems of war administration. Immediately upon assuming office, Boknar was confronted with the dire state of the economy. Military expenditures were at an all-time high, and the previous regime had made no attempt to reorient revenues or adjust resource allocation to compensate, instead borrowing heavily from several large interstellar financial institutions. [5] The new Director-General threw herself into the problem, issuing new directives nearly every day for months on end. She cast a critical eye on all areas of spending, ranging from shipbuilding practices (exorbitantly wasteful of precious alloys, according to a month-long investigation) to the color of the ink in the writing implements provided to every office location (a shortage of essential blue dyes [6] made black pens much cheaper to produce).

    The most important early-term initiative was a new series of production objectives for the Labor Directory’s Industrial section. With the saathids refusing to engage in any sort of negotiated peace, the war dragged on with no foreseeable end date. Even with the administration rolling out new efficiency measures on a regular basis, the amount of war materiel the economy was producing was not sufficient to maintain operational tempos. The Director-General hoped to remedy this by reorienting some of the productive capacity of the Governance from consumer to military goods. Focusing primarily on heavy industry, Boknar instituted a program to assist with the retooling of factories to produce armaments, ship parts, and military-grade electronics. She directed factories to operate on a continuous basis, with extra shifts staffed by workers diverted from non-critical industries. Power plants, usually operated at less than full capacity to maintain safety margins, were granted licenses to run at a minimum of 95% of rated power, boosting energy production significantly. Within a year, the various programs had increased the production of key military goods by 15%, ensuring the Unified Navy had the resources it needed to carry the war to the saathids and resupply the main task force as it operated deep inside enemy space.

    The partial militarization of the Governance economy was not achieved without significant sacrifices. One obvious consequence of reorienting production away from civilian manufacturing was a shortfall in the production of consumer goods. Durable goods saw the biggest decrease in output, with consumer electronics and appliances being especially hard-hit. Fixed-path and variable-path roadway construction fell precipitously, as the heavy machinery necessary to pave undeveloped land was diverted to meet military needs. With incomes steady (all the factories were still operating, after all) but the production of private goods declining, a moderate level of inflation set in. The Trade Directory also adjusted quotas for interstellar trading operations to help meet the needs of wartime, with less emphasis on consumer or cultural goods and a renewed focus on new military technologies or pure wealth maximization.

    These new requirements are [unprintable]. I already have purchase agreements in place with three contacts, and now I have to go back to them and tell them, “Deal’s off.” You’re supposed to be warning me when the rules are about to be changed. My name’s going to be put out on Cyggia as a flake. I’m going to have to start to pay a premium, a big, 20% markup or something in that range. What a [unprintable] [unprintable].

    - Transmission from an unnamed trader to a regional controller, location Cyggia Center, Cyggia, Cyggan Empire, date August 23, 289; provided to the Assembly Select Commission on Wartime Trade Deficits, sitting March to December, 293
    The new quotas were met with some friction in the trader community.

    So long as the war continued, Boknar was constrained politically as well. Though the XLI-LNC coalition had been weakened by its embarrassing performance in the selection campaign, its leadership had managed to keep the two factions in alignment. Amidst a war, and fearing a potential saathid invasion, the coalition firmly supported all of the Director-General’s measures to strengthen the war economy. Considering the circumstances, Boknar and her aides did not want to rock the boat; with the Assembly fully behind her, Boknar had a measure of security to make decisions about the conduct of the war without having to worry about the political fallout. Attempting to break the coalition might have met with success, but at a cost of jeopardizing her ambitious program to rescue the war effort.

    Once the Saathid War concluded in 295, the Director-General was able to stand down the economy to a civilian footing. She did not, however, rescind every wartime directive immediately upon cessation of hostilities. While most converted factories returned to their original production lines, the new trading quotas were largely left in place, and a small number of weapons systems continued to be manufactured for the lucrative export market. With the rapacious demands of war tapering off, Boknar’s reforms meant that a large surplus now existed. Some of that surplus was needed to make up for civilian shortages, which had been a continuous issue for most of the last decade. But with the remainder, Boknar decided that it should be used in the pursuit of her most ambitious domestic project: a major expansion of the social welfare system.

    According to the long-standing constitutional principles, every citizen in the Governance had the absolute right to the basic necessities of existence: food, at the state-run cafeterias that were the common eatery for most individuals; housing, in mixed [7] communal dormitories; and medical care, which was socialized for all individuals no matter their circumstances. When these guarantees were introduced in the second century, they were designed to care for the small number of vailons who could not take regular work postings, whether because of physical or mental disability; most vailons still ate in private eateries and owned or rented private homes. By the 280s, however, this balance had flipped; most citizens, whether vailon or xeno, took advantage of the public provisioning of these services, and fewer looked to the private market to fill their needs. Significant disparities still existed, however. Among members of the founding species, 68% lived in communal dorms, and 82% ate at least two meals a day in a cafeteria. For xenos, those figures were only 51% and 61%, respectively. [8] While certain segments of the population chose to devote some portion of their discretionary incomes towards higher-quality housing on the private market, the majority of individuals living outside of public dorms resided in marginal or self-constructed accommodations, often on the edges of urban areas or on settlement frontiers on colonial worlds. Xenos, especially first-generation immigrants and refugees, were more likely to live in segregated areas, to experience high levels of poverty, and to work outside the mainstream economy. These were mutually reinforcing trends; marginalized groups lived in isolated communities, far away from public amenities, which tended to pull them away from the mainstream economy, which further encouraged their isolation, and so on.

    The Director-General set out to remedy this state of affairs. With the end of the war, the administration finally had the excess economic capacity to bring these services to many marginalized communities. After months of planning, Boknar announced Project XYZ on July 11, 296, in a speech to the colonial assembly in Vilim, capital of The Veil. The program had three main planks, all falling under the aegis of the Labor Directory. In consultation with Labor, the Interior Directory would begin major upgrades to the aging transportation infrastructure of the Governance. [9] The Migration and Education Directories would collaborate on new assimilation curricula, designed to assist future migrants just arriving at the border as well as those who had already settled in the TUG but had continued to hold on to their original cultures. And, most importantly, the Labor Directory would institute a massive construction program in the regions with the heaviest concentration of isolated communities. Planned in coordination with the transportation improvements, the new public amenities would expand the reach of government services, making them accessible for the first time to billions of individuals.

    Infrastructure.jpg

    New fixed-path transportation infrastructure on Firintarogga. [10]

    Death of a Coalition

    Once completed, Project XYZ would be responsible for a large increase in the material well-being of the population of the Governance, with the biggest increases concentrated in the poorest quarter of the residents. The program, which was the locus of domestic policymaking for the second half of Boknar’s term, also marked the end of a political era. The XLI-LNC coalition that had dominated Governance politics for most of the third century finally reached a breaking point over the issue.

    Despite their long-standing alliance, the two factions had maintained separate identities, distinct ideologies, and independent party slates. In its infancy, the XLI had espoused a vague enthusiasm for pursuing good relations with the Governance’s immediate neighbors, the Mith-Fell Commonwealth and the Hissma Union, with whom relations had gotten off to something of a rocky start. Over the century, the party had matured into a strong defender of diplomatic approaches to issues of galactic import, while at the same time championing the causes of xeno refugees and minorities within the borders of the TUG. Though ostensibly dedicated to peaceful measures, its members were not completely averse to the use of force when the rights of life and liberty were threatened, and the party was occasionally outright interventionist in its advocacy. [11]

    Meanwhile, the LNC had, virtually from the moment of its inception, devoted itself to promoting democracy, equal rights, and equal access to those rights. These core principles had led the faction to focus primarily on issues closer to home, including colonial rights, welfare policy, and migration controls. One might almost liken the old coalition to two wings of a single party: the XLI in charge of foreign policy, and the LNC holding the domestic portfolio. Indeed, this was a common trope for many commentators over the decades, though one that was far more complicated in practice, a complexity which eventually played an important part in the final break. The LNC, for its part, generally supported an interventionist stance in interstellar affairs, but unlike its XLI partners the arch-egalitarians emphasized the role that the Governance could play in actively promoting democracy across the galaxy.

    There had, of course, always been disagreements between the two factions, but their iron grip on power and public support had allowed them to paper over their differences easily enough. This was to prove impossible with Project XYZ, not least because Boknar and her allies calibrated their plans, and which aspects of their plans to play up in public, to insert a wedge in the coalition. Of the three planks, the first plank, upgrading the transportation infrastructure, and the third plank, increasing access to entitlements via new construction, were uncontroversial, and deemphasized in the public debate. It was the second plank, the new assimilation programs, that engendered serious conflict and created a split. This part of the program appealed to the egalitarian ethos of the LNC. They were ardent defenders of the meritocratic system of the Governance, and they understood that true equality of opportunity could only emerge when every individual started from the same base, unencumbered by economic inequity or cultural baggage. Those communities that deliberately segregated themselves from the complex social structures that made meritocracy possible were a threat to the vision of liberty that the LNC held so dearly.

    By contrast, the assimilation provisions of Project XYZ were anathema to the XLI. The right to self-determination, and the preservation of all xeno cultures, were critical aspects of the ideology of the movement. Forced integration – for that was how the XLI conceived of massive investment in assimilation programs – would inevitably result in the loss of both precious cultural heritage and the fundamental right to self-actualization for all affected individuals. Somewhat ironically, the party was the strongest advocate of liberal refugee and immigration regimes, but the least supportive of assimilationist policies. To the XLI, the benefits of coming to the Governance, and being sheltered from the trials and travails of the rest of the galaxy, were an absolute good, unburdened by any conditionality. To put further demands on migrants, to ask them to sacrifice their own individual expression and join the larger collective, was a crime so horrid as to put into question the moral basis of the vailon project.

    The right to self-actualization is sacrosanct. No compromise of this principle is compatible with free and open societies. We must work together to end restrictions on individual choice and allow all individuals to experience true freedom in a meritocratic society.

    -From the 295 Xeno Liberty Initiative Party Manifesto
    A carefully worded party manifesto in 295 was not enough to heal the breach between the XLI and LNC.

    For a time, as negotiations with the administration over the contours of Project XYZ continued behind closed doors, the coalition was able to suppress their internal disagreements. Boknar held firm in these discussions, refusing to concede even a little bit on the assimilation question. The Director-General maintained that this plank was critical to the success of the whole program and to ensuring that no individual living in the Governance would ever be left behind again. In the ranks of the XLI, however, many suspected that Boknar’s statements on the matter were an exaggeration of her true feelings, and that her real interest lay in using the issue to break the coalition apart. Regardless of her true intentions, with no compromise on offer the XLI was eventually forced to announce their opposition to the entire package of reforms in early 297. As the LNC remained supportive of the measures, this amounted to a formal dissolution of the coalition.

    Boknar had succeeded in breaking up the alliance that had controlled the Assembly and defined Governance politics for nearly a century. With the political constraints removed, she was now free to pursue her ultimate ambition: the construction of a grand federation to advance Governance interests in interstellar affairs…


    Footnotes

    [1] The LNC held 45% of the seats and the XLI 40%.
    [2] This was another sign of the waning strength of the XLI-LNC coalition. In earlier eras, divergent ideological groups would have subsumed themselves within the existing party structures, in order to exert some influence on decision-makers. That such factions felt strong enough to strike out on their own reflected the shakiness of the governing coalition.
    [3] Mtche’ar’s official name was Claw of Cyan.
    [4] This was the famous “Free Haven” speech that augured the demographic transition of the Governance over her two decades in office.
    [5] The galactic financial market was a decentralized affair, with major hubs located on Mirovandia Prime, Kan Jukla, Khellzakka, and Hythea (though the last had been on the decline since its annexation by the Belmacosa Empire). Subir, while publicly pronouncing the sound health of Governance finances for all to hear, had in fact quietly arranged for lines of credit from a few of the largest mirovandian banks.
    [6] The materials were also used in the manufacture of computer interface devices.
    [7] I.e. open to individuals who chose to live in such arrangements as well as those in need of government assistance.
    [8] Further breakdowns of the xeno population, comparing long-settled communities to more recent arrivals, showed an even starker differential. Of xenos who had lived in the Governance for at least two decades, 63% lived in dorms and 80% used cafeterias regularly, whereas among recent immigrants or refugees it was 43% and 49%.
    [9] Access is key to utilization, the administration realized very quickly during the planning stage of XYZ. Resources were devoted to refurbishing old spaceports, constructing new skyways for regional travel, and expanding ground transit outside of urban centers, created a more integrated system that allowed individuals in isolated communities to connect more easily to dense areas and economic hubs.
    [10] Author's note: I have shamelessly stolen this image from a Google image search; original creator unknown.
    [11] The XLI strongly supported the Second and Third Varelviv War, as well as the interstellar coalition cobbled together by Valdrig den Subir to address the burgeoning refugee crisis in the 260s.
     
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    Interlude - Memorial
  • ISS Thuran
    Near orbit of Sol IV
    Sol System, Tebazed Unified Governance
    October 28, 293


    “We’re approaching the site,” the pilot informed me.

    I nodded. “Very well. Our guests may want to watch.”

    The guests were standing in the rear section of the bridge, murmuring amongst themselves. The three humans had very politely greeted us when we docked at their station, but they were a little wary at the thought of stepping foot onto a xeno ship. Even though traveling on a Governance ship was approximately three hundred times less likely to result in loss of life than doing so on an Earth-built spacecraft. (I would know, I had done the study myself.) Perhaps including a rontori in the welcome party had been a mistake – the humans were plenty familiar with the mammalian visage of us vailons, and had seen enough mith-fell on holos to grow accustomed to their forms, but rontori were relatively uncommon even in regular Governance space, and all of the tentacles could certainly be a disconcerting sight to uninitiated eyes.

    Still, they had come aboard our little consular vessel for the six-hour trip from the observation post-cum-diplomatic headquarters to the fourth planet of the star system, which is named for a deity of war from the ancient history of the dominant Earth culture. The trio had largely kept to themselves, sitting in a corner of the lounge for most of the journey, declining my repeated invitations for conversation or nourishment. Only in the last half hour had they finally wandered up to the bridge and requested the honor of a formal meal to celebrate the occasion, once the monument was laid. I told them there was no need to be so proper, there were no elaborate rituals to worry about, and we would be happy to put something together after the ceremony. Now I thought I would offer them the opportunity to get a look at the crater from the air as we approached.

    They looked at each other, a little uncertain as to their companions’ reactions. “I think I would like that,” one of them offered. The others nodded their agreement.

    “Come over here,” I said, gesturing towards a nearby viewscreen. They followed me to the terminal in silence. I typed a command to bring up the external sensor data in the visual spectrum, which for now was a view from a dozen kilometers above the dusty red surface. “We’re descending now – you can see our altitude here,” I narrated for them, pointing to a display in the bottom right corner of the screen. We had preprogrammed all of the computers to use Earth Standard terminology, for their benefit. In fact, most of our operations in the Sol system were conducted using the language which the Earth dwellers called English. The planet, developed to an Early Space Age before first contact, remained politically and linguistically fragmented, with as many as two hundred separate polities and, shockingly, over 5,000 languages in use. We were speaking English, as well, the most common language across the diplomatic institutions and governments with which the TUG was in contact. I had been given a crash course in the language, as well as the myriad customs for the many cultures scattered across the planet, before being assigned to my current posting. “It’ll be a few minutes before the crater comes in sight. I can zoom in if there are any features you want to examine more closely.”

    “Is this a live feed only? Can we view a different part of the planet?”

    “Uhhh…” I delayed while I clicked through menus. “We don’t have a live sensor feed, but I can bring up our old data… and there we go!” A holo activated, projecting a globe above the terminal. I think one of the humans might have gasped. “What would you like to see?”

    One of them volunteered, “The old base in the Acidalia Planitia.”

    I rotated the model and zoomed in on the location. “So much dust,” I heard behind me. Several of the buildings looked to have collapsed.

    “Amazing detail.”

    “What year was it abandoned?”

    “‘42, I think.”

    “What a mess that was.”

    “The desertion or the whole project?”

    “Both.”

    “That’s entirely fair.”

    “I’m just glad they didn’t send us to memorialize that clusterfuck.”

    “Yes.”

    I had my own thoughts about the Colonization Disaster of 2042 (my briefings had included a full lesson on the history of the human space age) but I kept them to myself, not wishing to stir up any trouble with our guests. With any luck, humanity was on a better path now.

    I felt the ship brake, my knees bending subtly to absorb the force. None of the humans seemed to have noticed, perhaps on account of their lower mass, or perhaps because they were only accustomed to the most rudimentary chemical propulsion systems, which invariably caused much more significant g-forces. “We have now touched down in Jezero Crater,” the pilot announced over the PA. “Ceremony attendees, please report to the cargo bay for surface activity preparation.”

    “That was a landing?” one of them whispered. “It was so smooth!”

    Pretending I hadn’t heard, I deactivated the holo. “Time to suit up,” I said.

    Twenty minutes later (the humans had some difficulty getting into our EVA suits, though we had customized them in collaboration with Earth-based engineers), we walked out the airlock, one of the humans guiding a hovercart carrying the memorial plaque, recording equipment, and other sundry supplies. The ship had landed a few hundred meters from the intended site for the plaque – lest we accidentally disturb the area – so we had a short walk across the dusty Martian landscape. The humans were all veterans of missions to various stellar bodies, but they marveled at the flexibility and natural feel of the suits, compared to the bulky fare that had been the height of human technology until the last few months. One of them, apparently a former star of athletic competition, even went for a short sprint before bounding high in the air, just to test her newfound capabilities. I reminded her on the radio that she could still tear the suit, or break a leg, if she landed the wrong way on a rock, but she just let out a whoop in response, to which the others laughed. I couldn’t help but smile, too; her energy was infectious.

    Eventually we made it to the coordinates that we had discovered in the archives on Earth. At first, there seemed to be nothing except a few boulders, but we quickly realized that the rover was one of the boulders, having been buried by innumerable dust storms over the decades. I set to work clearing the area, using the portable field generator we had brought to protect the site after our departure, while the others set up the recording equipment. Our suits, and external ship sensors, would record the ceremony in exquisite detail, but they had insisted on using some old-fashioned Earth tech to make their own recording. They positioned their bulky video recording device on a tripod while I removed the caked-on dust.

    It took about ten minutes to get everything ready for the ceremony. In the end, they kept it mercifully short. Instead of a long-winded paean to human ingenuity or some other lofty speech, they said only the following words for posterity:

    “On this day, December the 12th, 2099, we commemorate the dreams of every human who, looking up at the sky, only saw the endless possibilities of flight.”

    “Though there were many false starts, there were great successes, too, accomplishments to inspire us to aim higher.”

    “May this memorial stand forever as a reminder of all those who devoted their lives to the exploration of the great unknown, the final frontier.”

    With that, they unveiled the plaque and lowered it into place in front of the rover Perseverance, sparkling for the first time in 80 years. Besides the data card embedded in its lower section, which contained numerous files on the history of human spaceflight, it contained only a few lines of text:

    FOR PERCY
    But the film is a saddening bore
    Because I wrote it ten times or more
    It’s about to be writ again
    As I ask you to focus on
    Sailors fighting in the dance hall
    Oh man look at the those cavemen go
    It’s the freakiest show
    Take a look at the lawmen
    Beating up the wrong guy
    Oh man wonder if he’ll ever know
    He’s in the best-selling show
    Is there life on Mars?
     
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    Chapter Twenty-Two - A Mild War
  • A War, Generally

    The Tebazed Unified Governance was at war with the Saathid Annihilators for fourteen years, three months, and ten days. During that timeframe, the Unified Navy fought exactly one major engagement with saathid fleets, and the Unified Ground Force was involved in only two significant battles against enemy army units. This was “mild war,” not quite a cold war between rivals but also not a full-blown hot war with persistent combat. It was the apotheosis of modern space warfare, where the vast distances between inhabited regions and shipping lanes tamped down on the tendency for conflicts to escalate. In these wars, victory was less a matter of demonstrating superiority over one’s adversary and more attritional in nature – last one to shed their fur keeps the spoils, as traditional vailon folk wisdom would have it.

    At the outset, the Admiralty Board was most concerned with the possibility of a saathid invasion of the home territories. While intelligence was sketchy, it was generally believed that the saathid navy outnumbered the Governance’s own; moreover, the Unified Navy was decades behind its neighbors in military technology. Following battles in the recently concluded Third Varelviv War, Naval Intelligence expended significant resources scavenging debris in an attempt to identify advanced varelviv components and reverse engineer them for the Governance’s own use. Even with this effort, the Admiralty feared that the main fleet would be quickly overwhelmed and the colonies, or Tebazed itself, might suffer from attack.

    This threat never materialized. Far from being vulnerable to an invasion of their home territory by a technologically superior and xenocidal empire, the Governance was able to contest the war entirely within saathid space. Task Force Mirasma raided deep into enemy space and seized numerous star systems, plundering vast amounts of unrefined resources for transportation back to the core worlds. Though eventually forced to retreat, the Unified Navy was able to fight their saathid counterparts to a stalemate, leaving Tebazed in control of a liberated colony after the truce of 295. From the narrow perspective of Governance interests, the administration could very well consider this war to be a major success.

    That such a successful outcome was possible owed a great deal to the Mith-Fell Independent Commonwealth, which controlled the hyperlanes between the two combatants. The Commonwealth, along with its federation partners, the Hissma Union, had recently been embroiled in a brutal and bloody war with the saathids; they were very eager to assist with any effort to contain the xenociders. The Commissary-General of the Commonwealth let it be known that they would not look kindly upon any saathid forces who attempted to slip past TF Mirasma and attack the vailon core sector via mith-fell-controlled space, warning that such an attempt would be met with hostile force. Additionally, he permitted Admiral Jargim den Vatoris, commanding the Governance task force, to establish a forward operating base on the colony of Tripitit, near the border with the saathids. The new base quickly became the center of an elaborate logistics operation, allowing TF Mirasma to attack systems deep in saathid space without worrying about its supply lines.

    TripititDetails.jpg

    The mith-fell colony of Tripitit served as a logistics center for Task Force Mirasma during its time operating in saathid space. During the war years, a vailon immigrant to the Commonwealth, Feldirm den Piriam, held the governorship.

    RibellanVortex.jpg

    A Commonwealth patrol squadron passes Task Force Mirasma, orbiting the Ribellan Vortex, as the Governance fleet refuels and rearms. Nearby, a dormant L-Gate loomed ominously.

    With its rear secured, the task force raided as far as the saathids’ own core sector. For three years after breaching enemy space at Kannam, the fleet met no organized resistance, even after it seized the starbase defending a key hyperlane junction at Ashyke. Only once it reached the outer defenses of the capital, Saathurna, did the task force finally detect a saathid counterattack. Sensors indicated the saathids had mobilized a force of ten cruiser-class ships and nearly a hundred support ships. TF Mirasma only included 43 ships in total, and only one cruiser, the Seafallen Cruiser discovered on the ocean floor of Kampira in 274; outnumbered by a two-one margin, the fleet began the years-long retreat back to the safety of mith-fell territory, allowing the saathids to reverse all of the territorial gains made during the initial Governance advance. Admiral Vatoris hoped that the retreat would draw out the saathid fleets and allow her task force to pick off isolated enemy groups.

    The saathid fleets remained in close contact with each other, however, leaving TF Mirasma in a tricky position. The admiral could keep her fleet in mith-fell space, wearing down the saathids’ patience until they gave up the war and signed a truce; or she could engage the main saathid fleet and try to win with a single decisive battle. Choosing the latter, the task force reentered saathid space as the enemy fleet moved through the Kannam system. The Battle of Kannam, fought over three days in March of 293, turned out to be the only major naval engagement of the war, though not quite the decisive one for which Admiral Vatoris had hoped. Failing to achieve significant strategic surprise, the task force instead fought a running battle for nearly 60 hours, taking significant losses but dealing out brutal punches of its own. Saathid numbers eventually told, however, and just as a clever maneuver by the enemy forces threatened to split TF Mirasma in two, Admiral Vatoris ordered the fleet to conduct an emergency retreat. Twelve months later, the remnants regrouped in TUG space, having lost thirteen ships in the engagement while only being able to claim eight kills themselves. The admiral’s gambit had failed, and the saathids were free to retake the remaining Governance holdings in the sector.

    In the first year of TF Mirasma’s invasion, it had secured the one saathid colony located near the border, in the Uiafladus system. The United Ground Force had deployed three dragoons – a total of fifteen divisions, 225,000 soliders – as a garrison to pacify the planet. After the defeat in the Battle of Kannam, the UGF armies were left without any hope of reinforcement. General Plume of Teal [1] concentrated her divisions near the capital and dug in, waiting for the hammer blow that was sure to come. When it came, finally, in early 295, it proved to be somewhat less than a hammer. Perhaps overextended from decades of multi-front wars, the saathids did not bring to bear an overwhelming force against the UGF defenders. A small fleet harassed the several dragoons from orbit but only minimally impacted the effectiveness of the armies inside their hastily constructed fortifications. The saathids eventually landed approximately forty divisions planetside, but the units were understrength and severely lacking in equipment. [2] Waves of enemies attacked the UGF front lines directly and were repulsed with heavy casualties for their troubles. More complex plans failed equally spectacularly. [3] By mid-March, the drama was over. The saathid armies had taken horrific losses and could no longer stay in the field; one by one, they withdrew by the end of the month. Soon after, Governance forces picked up a transmission in the clear; the saathids were declaring a truce, ceasing all offensive operations against the TUG and allied forces.

    The Cost

    But to what end the war? For it was a two-front conflict; and though Governance forces found some success in raiding saathid territory, they did not achieve any of their strategic objectives. An alliance with the ragerians of Aeria, who faced an existential threat from the xenociders, had dragged the Governance into the conflict. Ragerian space, far to the north and east of the TUG, was well outside the range at which the Unified Navy could project force. At the outset, it was hoped that friendly pressure on the southern border of the saathids might force them to withdraw forces from the Aerian front, buying time for the ragerians. But despite the best efforts of Admiral Vatoris and TF Mirasma, they proved unable to seize the initiative. The success or failure of their plan was at the mercy of the saathids, and the saathids very rarely showed any mercy. Already by 287, as the Governance fleet first breached saathid space, the enemy had driven deep into allied territory; by early 288, as the UGF mounted its invasion of the saathid colony in the Uiafladus system, the xenocidal fleets were pressing on Aeria’s last lines of defense.

    At this point a glimmer of hope appeared for the ragerians. Staring down the total annihilation of his people, the archon approached the Tezhnid Holy Foundation with an offer born of desperation. Previous negotiations with the theocratic regime had all ended quickly, on account of the tezhnids’ continued reluctance to work with what they saw as an unreliable and unstable regime on Aeria. [4] This time, the archon did not even attempt to start a negotiation. Instead, he offered complete, unconditional surrender of all ragerian territory to the tezhnids in exchange for immediate protection from hostile saathid forces. This was an offer the Patriarch of Tezhnar [5] could hardly refuse. Within a week, the Coalition of Aeria Husila had formally ceased to exist, ceding all of its de jure systems [6] to the Holy Foundation; days later, elements of the Holy Navy crossed the border to take up defensive positions alongside their new ragerian subjects. [7]

    This brief flash of hope for a reprieve was swiftly extinguished. The leading echelons of the tezhnid navy were still three jumps away when the ragerian defensive line collapsed. Panic ensued. Billions were trapped as the saathids blockaded Aeria. Civilian ships were shot down by the thousand as individuals attempted to flee in whatever crafts they could find. The archon had delayed his own evacuation, whether out of bravery or stupidity, until it was too late; he and his retinue did not depart the government palace until hours after the first enemy bombs landed in the capital. They were never heard from again, assumed by most to have been swept up by an invading army and summarily executed. Most of the population was to suffer the same fate, dispatched by advancing military units or the death squads that patrolled in their wake. [8]

    These frightful events could only be observed from afar by the administration on Tebazed. There was, for some, [9] a question of culpability in the ongoing xenocide. In failing to do more, to make decisions faster and act more decisively, in the face of a crisis, these critics pointed to a breakdown of moral authority. If the Governance, and in particular the most recent occupants of the Director-General’s office, wanted to claim the mantle of crusader for the rights to life and liberty for all individuals in the galaxy, then they were creating for themselves a series of commitments to which they would need to be held. In failing to prevent the Ragerian Xenocide, during a war in which they were a major combatant, the administration had demonstrated to the galaxy that these pretensions were hypocritical. The leaders of the Governance needed to undertake a serious program of soul-searching.

    The incumbent Director-General, Birm den Boknar, could dismiss such criticisms out of hand. It was under her predecessor that indecisiveness had reigned in Sedrin; after Boknar’s ascension, the administration had developed a plan to assist the ragerians with the saathids, a plan which they believed was the best course of action under the circumstances. They had, in support of that plan, even introduced significant economic reforms to boost military production at the cost of certain civilian industries. Boknar, instead, asked of herself and her administration more philosophical question about the Governance’s engagement with the rest of the galaxy. For all her hard-horned practicality when it came to domestic politics, she could be as romantic as any vailon about the species’ place in the stars and role in interstellar politics. After the fall of Aeria, Boknar began to reexamine the rosy view of galactic affairs to which successive administrations had held.

    As the calendar approached the end of the 3rd century, the TUG was no more than a middle-ranked power. The limited successes, and more importantly the failures, of the Saathid War were an ample demonstration of that fact: even when squaring off against an interstellar pariah and a threat to all civilized species, the Governance regime was unable to muster enough military strength on its own, or diplomatic strength to bring in allies, to achieve its goals. Rhetorically, the Governance was on a crusade to eliminate injustice across the galaxy; but, practically, force projection on that scale was impossible even were Admiral Vatoris to borrow a fleet from the bothrians. [10] Short of that – and the vailons were very short of that – the lofty words for which the Director-General often reached were laughable. Boknar could claim that the Governance was, in her own words, “a shining beacon of hope” for the galaxy, but what was the worth of those words when the ideals embedded within them could not be enforced beyond its borders? For the Director-General, this was the question that would, one way or another, define her second decade in office.

    UiafladusIIInvasion.jpg

    The successful invasion of Uiafladus II in 288 began a decade of military rule on the former norillgan homeworld.

    The Norillgan Dilemma

    In the immediate future, however, more prosaic questions lingered. After the initial capture of the Uiafladus colony in 288, General Plume of Teal had ordered her forces to put the former norillgan homeworld under martial law. The saathid invasion had been devastating; the subsequent occupation had been worse. Most norrilgans had been wiped out in the first weeks and months of saathid rule. What remained of the pre-war population were confined to labor camps and forced to work to dismantle all traces of the old civilization. According to scans, a few of these camps still existed when the first Governance troops made planetfall, but they were all quickly liquidated once it became clear that the colony was indefensible. The general’s intelligence units suggested that there might have been small pockets of survivors scattered in remote locations on the planet, but she did not have the spare resources to go looking for them. Everything she had was needed to keep the restive saathid population under control.

    Seven years passed between the conquest of Uiafladus II and the spectacular defense of the colony by the UGF that brought the war to a close. The UGF occupation of Viverva, the varelviv homeworld, in 283 had lasted for just over nine months, most of that under a truce during treaty negotiations. There the population had been uneasy, but with the varelviv political system in an advanced state of collapse there was little overt resistance to the occupiers. On Uiafladus II, in the midst of an active war and far from friendly forces, the dynamic was much more dangerous. With only two hundred thousand soldiers under her command, General Plume of Teal had to spread her dragoons thinly to cover just the most significant population centers. Insurgent groups began to form all across the planet, targeting the perilously exposed forces in hit-and-run strikes. Attacks were often followed by vicious reprisals, as local commanders reacted to fast-evolving situations without any effective control exerted from central command. This created a tit-for-tat cycle of escalation in many locations, which often only ended with the deployment of overwhelming force to cow local insurgent groups (killing scores of civilians in the process).

    Thankfully for General Plume of Teal, the low-level resistance activity never metastasized into a full-blown revolt. By 295, insurgent attacks had dropped off significantly, and though there was a brief resurgence in the first months of the year as the saathid army prepared to invade, the disastrous performance of the saathid regulars left what remained of the rebel groups despondent. Before the year was out, most of the surviving insurgents surrendered to the new Governance authorities. [11] TUG control of Uiafladus II was secured, albeit uneasily. The planet was far from the vailon core worlds and trade networks, and it could not easily be supported. Though a civilian administration was eventually sent from Tebazed to take up nominal authority over the colony, real power remained with the military. Martial law was officially ended in 297, but the UGF garrison continued to be responsible for all aspects of security. The saathid population, numbering four billion individuals, remained uncooperative with the new regime, and the constant threat of military force appeared to be the only thing keeping them in check.

    That left the question of what, exactly, to do with the freshly conquered planet. In prior wars, the Governance had seized deep-space mining and research facilities, and occasionally also annexed small colonies living in contested space, but these had rarely been populated by more than a few thousand individuals. An entire planet, with a population in the billions, was another matter entirely. Two camps emerged in Boknar’s cabinet, one advocating for integration into the Unified Governance as a newly created sector and the other for a measure of autonomy as a vassal state. The political factions in the Assembly, focused as they were in the post-war period on the slate of domestic reforms introduced by the administration, were content to let the Director-General decide what to do with the faraway colony of hostile xenociders.

    Norillga.jpg

    The Norillgan Nonvoting Representative Dov’ace took advantage of his platform to advocate for independence for his species.

    “The Uiafladus system is still heavily dependent on supplies provided from the core. I believe it’s 25% of the building material and 42% of food consumption relies on imports from Eldetha and Ferdera. If you do declare independence, what do you expect the future economic relationship with Tebazed to be?”

    “Well, look, obviously we are tremendously grateful for all of the work vailons [sic] have done to get us to this point. I, for one, can say with absolute certainty that the Governance is a force for good in this galaxy. They have returned our home to us. But individual autonomy and self-determination is at the core of the meritocratic ideology that the Governance holds to, and we believe very simply that those principles should apply to us as well. According to our modeling, we can make the planet self-sufficient within fifteen years; my aides will be distributing materials to detail that. Until then, yes, we may be dependent on imports, but I fully expect that Director-General Boknar will allow that process to proceed naturally and not cave to the hardliners by imposing restrictions…”

    -Excerpt from Norillgan Nonvoting Representative press conference, August 20, 298

    As Boknar let her team deliberate, however, a third option emerged from an unexpected corner. A large norillgan émigré community had lived in the borders of the Governance for several decades. Unlike most other refugee groups, they had elected to keep themselves as separate as possible from mainstream vailon society. [12] By holding onto their traditional societal structure, they believed that they could maintain their identity until the day they could triumphantly reclaim their homeworld. As soon as the truce was announced, many thousands of these xenocide survivors began the long journey back to Uiafladus II; by the end of the decade, norillgans would account for a sizeable percentage of the population of the planet once again. Though this migration was initially ignored by the Boknar cabinet, it provided fuel for the norillgan representative to the Assembly to approach the Director-General with a bold proposal: an independent norillgan state on Uiafladus II, allied but not subservient to the TUG. The vailons had sheltered the norillgans after the trauma of the saathid conquest, but now it was time for them to make their own way in the galaxy.

    For the time being, Boknar was content to wait before committing to a path forward. The situation on Uiafladus II continued to be unstable. Economically, the colony was dependent on massive shipments of supplies from the core worlds, not least of which was foodstuffs. Any solution to the “norillgan dilemma,” as the press had taken to calling it, would depend on ensuring the safety, security, and prosperity of the inhabitants of the colony. With those problems persisting, it was not clear when, exactly, a permanent solution would be imposed.


    Footnotes

    [1] Personal name Cwaar.
    [2] Intelligence battalions reported that most of the enemy units brought with them only a minimal amount of ground transport vehicles; the saathid soldiers walked from their dropships and shuttles to the front lines. Moreover, there were no significant concentrations of armored fighting vehicles that might outmaneuver or overrun the lightly armed but dug-in defenders.
    [3] On February 18th, a twelve-hour bombardment by orbital units was followed up by three simultaneous attacks across two UGF zones. But the bombardment completely missed key UGF targets, including frontline bunkers and logistics corridors, and one of the assaults launched too early, giving the defenders time to transfer reinforcements from other zones to assist in beating back the offensive. On March 1st, the saathids attempted to utilize a creeping barrage to allow their divisions to advance with covering fire, an innovative tactic that showed some initial promise and forced one UGF division to withdraw to a secondary defensive line. However, an apparent miscommunication led the naval barrage to hit positions already captured by the saathids, causing significant friendly fire casualties until the enemy units retreated.
    [4] In the first half of the third century, there had been four separate military coups on Aeria, as the ruling junta divided itself into factions again and again. That the current regime had survived in power for two decades was considered by many outside observers to be something of a miracle.
    [5] The supreme religious leader of the tezhnids, and the true final authority for all government decisions.
    [6] I.e. including the systems currently occupied by saathid forces. If the tezhnids could retake them, they could keep them.
    [7] Given the rapidity of events and the collapse of central authority on Aeria, this “invasion” was also resisted in places before word could spread of the new situation. Many ragerians remembered the long conflict with the tezhnids only a few decades in the past and instinctively attacked their old enemy when they were sighted in Aerian space. However, most defensive positions along the border had been stripped of weapons and personnel to aid in the fight with the saathids. Without orders, many outposts surrendered immediately, only to find to their pleasant surprise that the tezhnids were not taking prisoners but instead looking for recruits.
    [8] Many other ragerian colonies, it should be noted, suffered the same fate. All told, the death toll of the Ragerian Xenocide was estimated to be 20 billion souls.
    [9] Concentrated, in the Assembly at least, amongst disaffected members of the Xeno Liberty Initiative.
    [10] The Bothrian Progenitors were one of a trio of so-called “fallen empires,” polities which had once ruled over significant portions of the galaxy but had since retreated from most of their former holdings. It was reputed that a single bothrian battlecruiser could outgun the entire Unified Navy.
    [11] Some low-level resistance activities continued for many years, but they never seriously threatened Governance control of the planet.
    [12] The norillgan communities in the TUG lived in separate municipalities; they elected their own independent governments and built their own schools; and, aside from a modest subsidy provided by the administration, they maintained a closed economic system.
     
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    Interlude - Coming Home, Part I
  • Onyx Base
    Sothhlva Region
    Uiafladus III, Tebazed Unified Governance
    October 13, 295


    The shuttle touched down with a thud, shaking the compartment. The navy pilot had made his attitude about ferrying civilians clear when we boarded. We were lucky, I suppose; he could have instead revealed a particular attitude about ferrying us space slugs instead. As it was, though, he merely gave us a rough ride, with a jolt at the end. Under the circumstances, I’m not sure anybody else on the shuttle even noticed.

    I waited in my seat for the other passengers to walk, crawl, or, mostly, slide down the aisle and off the shuttle. Primarily they were fellow norillgans, for whom the latter movement description was generally considered proper (“slithered” was another possibility, though that word was frowned upon for its derogatory connotations), but there was a smattering of vailons and other minorities mixed in. Thinking of the norillgans specifically, I wondered how many of these pilgrims would find what they were looking for. I had interviewed dozens of them during our long stay on Tripitit Station, waiting for the war to end. The Commonwealth authorities might have been very displeased to be hosting us, but they also had little appetite for the mass expulsion of hundreds of thousands of victims of xenocide hoping to return to their former homes at the first available opportunity. Home was, I had found in my interviews, what most of them wanted (at least, among the sample I was able to speak with). Most of the old norillgan civilization had been demolished, swept aside along with the lifeless bodies of billions so that the saathids could have their precious “clean slate,” their terrum novum on which they could write their own vision of a world.

    The pilgrims I interviewed hadn’t seemed to understand the scale of the destruction wrought upon their world. Perhaps the scale of the devastation was impossible to comprehend for any individual. They had traveled to Tripitit, and hoped to continue on to our homeworld, retracing the route many of them had used to flee some thirty years ago. They seemed to expect that, in undoing their journeys to refugee camps and, eventually, new homes in the Governance or elsewhere, they would also be undoing the passage of time on their homeworld, that they would be able to return and find everything exactly as it was the day before the first saathid bombs fell. It was inconceivable to them that the world could have changed in their absence.

    I shouldn’t have been all that surprised. I knew people like this, grew up around many of them. My parents, thankfully, felt lucky, even blessed, to have escaped the invasion alive. In their old lives, the ones they barely spoke of to me, my father was a writer, my mother an engineer; but when they reached Kampira, they were assigned work as laborers, clear-cutting swaths of virgin jungle because norillgans were theoretically well-suited to tropical environments. My parents had lived in climate-controlled environments within large urban agglomerations for their entire lives up to that point, but I never once heard them complain about their new lives in manual labor or, later on, as small-town shopkeepers. Instead, for my sister and I, the lesson was always that we needed to be grateful for the opportunities afforded to us, when so many others of our species had their lives brutally cut short.

    There were others, though, in our little hamlet fifty kilometers and a light-year away from Kampira City, who were not so endlessly grateful. Understandably, they were mistrustful of xenos, ‘aliens’ according to the idiom in old Norillga. Their first contact with intelligent life had traumatized the entire generation in one way or another, left them with scars that would endure for a lifetime. What was less explicable to me was these survivors’ need to pass on their mistrust and their trauma to their children, to hold them apart forever in their new homes. Why should the new generation be forced to carry the burden of the old? All we want to do was live our lives, same as any citizen of the Governance. I am no different than the vailon born on Tebazed, or the mith-fell hatched on Firintarogga, despite my parents’ experiences.

    But even as these thoughts bounced around my mind, I knew I was exaggerating my own superiority. I might say that I want to escape from the legacy of xenocide and loss, but there I was, returned to the very place the saathids pursued their unspeakable crimes, with the express purpose of researching and documenting those crimes. Of all the choices I had as a full citizen of the Governance, I had chosen to go back to an imagined homeland too. I was as beholden to the experience of my parents’ generation as were the pilgrims searching for the life they had once known.

    It was also true, though, that the pilgrims would have denied my experience as genuine. Framing myself as a fully assimilated citizen of vailon society, as I did a moment ago, was to them a betrayal of the continued existence of the norillgan civilization. To them I was, in a sense, symbolically completing the work that the saathids started. But for the pilgrims it was equally true that those who wished to live apart and keep to the old ways, as well as those who devoted themselves to taking vengeance on the perpetrators, were deeply misguided. When faced with the utter destruction of your species, eternal grief was apparently the only legitimate response. And when they were handed even the faintest glimmer of a chance by their new benefactors to restore something of the old glory, they flocked to the false hope of reconstitution. In this way, they locked themselves behind two lies. First, that they were not survivors looking for their own place in the galaxy, rather that they were the victims of ongoing acts of violence. And second, that returning to their former homes and rebuilding would in some way erase those acts of violence and render them meaningless.

    In a sense, I realized as I finally departed the shuttle, I had made my own pilgrimage here in order to demolish those lies, in whatever limited capacity I could contribute.

    FernUni.JPG


    From the shuttle pad, perched as it was atop a hill in the center of the base, I could see the entire sprawling complex, stretching a kilometer in every direction. In one direction, the military facilities gradually gave way to a civilian town, Jalin; in the other three directions I could see the dense jungle pushing up against the perimeter fence. It is a curious fact that vailons like to build out, not up, in contrast to most known and assumed architectural styles. The spot where I stood was actually the highest point in the entire base, save for the navigation tower guiding air traffic. The admin buildings – headquarters for an entire dragoon with 80,000 soldiers occupying an entire continent – were clustered in the shadow of the town. Even in a small town like this one, the mix of old norillgan and saathid architecture dwarfed the more recent construction by the Governance. Even in dense cities, vailon buildings rarely exceeded five stories; out there, far from the core worlds, I was mildly surprised to see even the handful of multi-story buildings.

    Most of the other passengers were descending from the pad to my right, towards the transportation depot. A few were laying flat on the ground as they prayed to the old gods; others were weeping openly at the sight of their former home. I watched them for a moment before I started down the hill myself, in the direction of the admin buildings. On the way, I slid past a polyglot collection of xenos in the middle of the normal daily routine of a military base. Mechanics doing maintenance on vehicles and other equipment. Squad-level units poring over maps. A mess hall. A shooting range. There were mith-fell and hissma, pelx and pithoks. Mirovandians with their stalks towering over their comrades. Even a scattered few sathori, far from their own homeworld in the opposite corner of the galaxy. They were all citizens of the Tebazed Unified Governance, doing their duty for the state, defending the rights and freedoms of their fellow citizens. Despite being born inside the borders of the Governance, I was not quite like them. I was set apart, like all norillgans in the TUG. Most refugees who arrived in vailon space, whether displaced by war or famine or political happenstance/circumstance, were granted a direct path to full-citizen rights within a few years. Crucially, nothing in domestic or interstellar law prevented those migrants from retaining their old citizenship rights alongside their new ones. Not so for the norillgan diaspora. We were in limbo, held there deliberately by a regime of interstellar law that had not foreseen the possibility of a pre-FTL civilization being eradicated, as well as by our own political leadership that continued to insist that the old norillgan polities would be resurrected in some form. When asked to choose between immediate citizen rights in the Governance and the possibility, however remote, of returning to the way things were, of returning to their old status in society, our so-called leaders chose the latter. Thus, even though I was born in the Governance, was educated in a Governance cohort with a vailon teacher and Governance-approved curriculum, even though I was now a member of the Governance’s own Directorate, the sprawling bureaucratic entity that constituted most day-to-day economic and social activity in the state, I was not a proper citizen of the Governance.

    After a ten-minute slide through the base, I arrived at Administration E, where I was supposed to meet my guide. A hissma corporal at the desk in the lobby sent me to see a cyggan lieutenant on the second floor, who sent me to a vailon major back on the first, who, after making me wait for three-quarters of a standard hour, told me I needed to see a Major Xabinax, over in Admin H. Another ten-minute slide found me at the correct building, this one humming with activity as many individuals hurried in and out. A short wait and finally I was granted my audience.

    The major was a pithok, a relatively rare sight given their communal nature and their tendency to remain close to their families. “Yes, come in,” he said, accompanied by a hand gesture indicating the seat across the desk from him, all without looking up from the document he was reading. This would have been considered incredibly rude in the pre-war norillgan culture, but I wasn’t raised in the old society.

    “Major Xabinax, thank you for seeing me.” I said by way of greeting. I did not take the offered seat, as it was designed for bipedal species.

    “And you are…” he said slowly, as he finished reading the printout in front of him and turned to his holo display, “Fern-ee.” He stumbled badly over my name.

    “I’m sorry, major, but it’s actually ‘Fern’uni,’” I corrected him gently.

    “Fern-ooni?”

    “Close enough.”

    “Okay.” He typed something into his holo-display before finally turning to face me. “Sorry about that. So it says you’re here about obtaining a permit to enter a combat zone, yes?” His voice clicked and buzzed, a common physiological feature of arthropoidal species.

    “I actually already have a permit. The Directory issued it to me, with proper approvals, before I left Tripitit Station.” I fetched the document out of my bag to show him.

    “Which Directory?”

    “Oh, ah, Science. I’m at the First Bessemar Institute of Higher Learning. And I’m only going into a restricted zone, not a combat zone.”

    The major took the document from me. “That’s a very good school. What are you studying?”

    “Thank you,” I said, to the implicit compliment. “I’m working on the legacy of lost civilizations and generational traumas. Hence my presence here.”

    Major Xabinax nodded but didn’t immediately reply, instead turning his eyes back to the form I had given him. “Hmmm. Well, Tebazed can issue whatever cease-fire proclamations they want; on the ground here everywhere beyond the fence is a combat zone.” He held up the document next to his holo-display, evidently comparing the two. “Ah, I see,” he exclaimed, apparently having found the discrepancy. “The district you’re heading to was redesignated as Delta-2 yesterday.”

    “What does that mean?”

    “It means I’m not supposed to let you go there. Wait,” he said, holding a hand up as I started to object. “I’m not actually going to try to stop you. But you should be aware of the situation before you go.”

    This confused me. “Isn’t the war over?”

    “Only in the technical sense.”

    “I thought they announced a truce.”

    “They did.”

    “And their armies retreated.”

    “Yes, sure.”

    “Then I don’t understand.”

    The major’s antennae twitched, I believe in a manner to suggest sympathy for my naivete. My interactions with pithoks had been limited in the past. “In the army, we like to talk about ‘facts on the ground.’”

    “Okay,” I replied uncertainly.

    The major continued. “To a navy, things are easy. If a ship fires on you, it is the enemy and you fire back. If there’s a treaty peace, the enemy ships won’t fire on you anymore and you won’t fire on them. But an individual ship is both too small and too big to go rogue. Too small, because it’ll get destroyed the first time it runs across a patrol squadron; that’s a lot of firepower to lose in a single engagement for an insurgent group. And too big for any but the largest outfits to steal and operate with any effectiveness.”

    I could sense him building momentum, so I didn’t interrupt.

    “Planetside, it’s a totally different world. Easy enough for a retreating army to leave behind small units to ambush patrols and attack supply lines and generally make it very hard to maintain a peace. Even a few disgruntled civilians can band together, make an occupying force miserable. On the ground, against a hostile population who know the territory better than you, pacification is an ongoing operation, not something decreed with a keystroke. But, as the junior branch, we report up to navy command. The admirals are like easily distracted children: show them a shiny new warship and they’ll forget that there’s a whole planet to be garrisoned.”

    I had a lot of questions about the soliloquy, but I pushed them down in my mind so that we could stay focused. “What does that mean for me? Are you saying there’s still active fighting in the area?”

    “It’s low-grade stuff but yes. Just yesterday, a sniper wounded a colonel in 3rd infantry, a patrol was ambushed and their exoskeletons taken, and several civilians were shot in Asbe. And it’s small-scale action, not really anything we can actively defend against. My fear is that you’ll make a juicy target for the partisans, both because you represent the civilian government and your, ah, personal status.”

    “Have the partisans been targeting pilgrim groups?”

    “It’s hard to say for certain. We’ve tried to keep a pretty tight watch on them, because we expect a lot of fury to be directed their way. So attacks on the main pilgrim groups and sites have been rare. But we can only do so many show-of-force exercises, and when your friends wander away from the heavily trafficked areas we have seen them attacked in a way to suggest deliberate targeting.”

    “But you’re letting me go anyway.”

    “Not alone.” The major leaned over to his intercom. “Would you please have Sergeant Pathir join us?”

    “I was told I would be meeting up with a Major Vakor. She was going to be my guide. Where is she?” My frustration was beginning to boil over, but the major’s combination of affability and mild indifference blunted it.

    “Yes, well, Major Vakor had to go outside the fence this morning, attending to an incident in Skom. Sergeant Pathir will escort you – ah, yes, come in,” the major said after a knock interrupted him. I turned to see a vailon soldier, presumably this Sergeant Pathir, enter the cramped office. He was tall for a vailon, maybe 1.7 meters, an effect emphasized by his asymmetric horns – his left horn was significantly shorter and looked as if it had been badly damaged in the recent past.

    The major continued, indicating each of us in turn with his antennae. “Sergeant Pathir, Fern-ooni. Sergeant, your orders are to take your squad and escort this civilian over the fence, where you are to rendezvous with Major Vakor at Skom. She will have further instructions for you at that time, but anticipate further escort duty.”

    Part of me wanted to interject and say it wouldn’t be necessary, but I refrained. Some protection actually sounded like a prudent course of action.

    “Transport?” Sergeant Pathir wanted to know. His voice was gravelly, much more so than most vailons.

    “You can check out an armored four-wheeler from the motor pool. Authorization code….” The major checked the holo-display again. “Alpha-three-seven-Charlie.”

    “Alpha-three-seven-Charlie, thank you, sir,” the sergeant confirmed.

    “Alright, sergeant,” the major replied, and the vailon turned to go. I began to follow him, assuming the dismissal was for both of us, but the major stopped me. “Don’t forget this,” he said, holding out my permit, now stamped with the proper approval mark.

    I took it from and put in into my bag. “Thank you.”

    “When you return, I’d like to sit down with you and have a look at your research, see if there’s anything I can add,” he continued.

    I was surprised, having interpreted his indulgent attitude to mean that he wasn’t particularly interested in my work. Of course, he might have actually wanted to sanitize some of my conclusions, but it was hard to tell. “Sure!” was about all I could muster.

    His antennae twitched again, but I missed the implication. “And be careful out there. Listen to Sergeant Pathir, and don’t do anything stupid.” I nodded my acknowledgement. “You’ll be fine,” he concluded with an air of finality.
     
    Interlude - Coming Home, Part II
  • Sergeant Pathir had waited for me outside the major’s door. He directed me to the motor pool, adjacent to the main gate of the base, and said he would meet me there. I slid on alone, now preoccupied with the thought that an angry mob of saathid civilians, left behind by their government, angry and afraid and cut off from the only beings they considered to be full persons. I had never before imagined their predicament, or even that there might be saathids left on the planet at all. In my mind, it had always been a landscape devoid of any life, inhabited only by the ruins of dead civilizations. Instead it was a vibrant place, thrumming with tension.

    Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in a passenger seat in the rear of a four-wheeled transport vehicle, humming along an empty road. Sergeant Pathir sat in the front passenger seat; Private Wun, a tezhnid, was driving from the seat directly in front of me, and Corporal Schieee, a mith-fell, occupied the seat next to me. Sergeant Pathir had given me a brief lecture before we departed. He had three rules for me: don’t speak to any locals without his approval, don’t walk in front of any of the squadmembers and block their sight lines, and always listen to his orders. I acknowledged them while we stood in the motor pool – it seemed unlikely we would head out if I didn’t – but I had no intention of paying them any mind once we were in the field, and I fully expected Major Vakor to back me up when we found her.

    We drove in silence as I stared out the window at the jungle, which grew up to and in some place over the road. It felt different than the landscapes back home on Kampira. Thicker, heavier somehow.

    Private Wun broke the quiet. “So, Fern, what’re you working on that’s important enough to get us out here on escort duty in a Delta zone?” I turned to look at her; her eyes were glued to the road. I would have much preferred that she use my full name.

    “Hey.” That was Corporal Schieee, next to me. She didn’t look away from her rifle sights, pointed out her window, either. “Be nice to the civvie. He might write bad shit about us.”

    “At least we’ll be famous,” Private Wun cracked in return.

    “Yeah, and busted onto latrine duty.”

    “That might be good for you. Disciplining. You’ll learn you don’t need to do so much preening every morning.”

    “You know what, Wun? You’ll probably enjoy it. Your ancestors crawled out of that muck. It’ll be like going home for you.”

    I swiveled my head back and forth during the exchange, half-expecting one to jump the other. But nothing. They barely flinched as they hurled insults, and I even thought a hint of smile played on Sergeant Pathir’s face. “Cut it out,” he ordered, but without much enthusiasm.

    They did, in fact, stay silent for a moment. Private Wun, however, proved unable to sustain it for long. “But Fern didn’t answer my question! Hasn’t even said a word this whole time.” With no rebuke coming, she continued. “So how about it, Fern?” Now she glanced over, mandibles clicking.

    Before I could respond, Corporal Schieee jumped in again. “That’s a fair point! What’s your deal, Fern?”

    “I’m here researching the destruction of norillgan society. My thesis deals with apocalyptic trauma and the inherent contradictions of annihilation and rebirth.” They asked for it.

    It was met with another silence, though this one seemed to be more stupefied than anything. Private Wun recovered first. “None of us mudsuckers know what any of those words mean. Can you dumb it down for the idiots in the car?”

    “I’m trying to document the facts of the original saathid invasion and compare it to the pilgrims’ memory of the event.”

    Private Wun’s mandibles clacked in rapid succession. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Makes perfect sense when you put it that way.”

    Corporal Schieee let out a small shriek of annoyance. “That’s how they get trained in higher learning. Complicated words for complicated ideas.” She was defending me, maybe. “Me, I grew up on an algae farm. Not saying there weren’t smart individuals in my cohort, but it was definitely clear the types of postings we were being prepared for.”

    Private Wun cut her off. “That’s some kind of bullshit! We all know you joined up because you couldn’t stand the stench of the hatcheries back home.”

    “Now, now,” Sergeant Pathir chided her. “Let’s not get all personal and offensive. I’m sure Corporal Schieee doesn’t think her own broodmates stink, do you, Corporal?”

    “No, sir, I don’t.” Her tone of voice was eager, as if she was anticipating wherever it was the sergeant was headed.

    “That’s right, because the corporal knows that there are only two reasons any individual would choose to join the UGF.”

    “Yes, sir.”

    “Reason number one: navy brats think they are the supreme form of intellectual and physical achievement and are completely insufferable.”

    “One hundred percent, sir.”

    “Reason number two: if you’re like the good private here, and you can’t find any lovers back home, you might think the lack of options at an army base would make some individuals desperate.”

    “Private Wun might certainly have thought so, sir.”

    “Unfortunately for our friend, her fellow soldiers are not that desperate. We all feel bad for you, we do. But we’re discriminating enough to know better than to jump into bed with you.”

    Private Wun had taken this abuse with levity. “You’ve got me there, sir. I live a very sad life. But I want to get back to Fern here. What exactly are you expecting to get out of the ‘nids?”

    “I don’t expect to get anything from the saathids.” I chose not to use the derogatory word for them. “I didn’t come here for that.”

    “So what’s the deal then? We’re out here protecting you for, what? A nice walk in the countryside?”

    “I’m here to gather evidence and document it for further research. Things like death camps, mass grave sites, abandoned towns. Hopefully all very far away from saathid population centers, to be honest. I don’t want to have to deal with them.”

    “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Private Wun’s mandibles clacked again. “But we’re heading to a saathid town right now. We’ll see how well we can keep them away from you, eh?”

    “Leave the civvie alone, Private,” the sergeant ordered. And she did.

    --------------

    We arrived in Skom about twenty minutes later. Private Wun was apparently constitutionally incapable of keeping quiet for more than a few minutes; shortly after she left off interrogating me, she had started up a new conversation, ostensibly with Corporal Schieee but actually very one-sided, about the meal regulations at the base’s mess hall, which I came to understand required all foodstuffs to have pre-approval from Central Command and thus forbade the serving of any local fauna that might have otherwise made for good game meat. The private knew about that bit because she had herself gone out hunting with some friends from another platoon and had personally bagged a big six-legged ungulate, only for the head chef to shove the animal straight into the incinerator. This had been very upsetting for Private Wun, who had filed a formal complaint to the lieutenant who oversaw the mess hall and spent thirty minutes of our trip alternatively boring us to death (with detailed descriptions of the biochemical differences between the life found on this planet and some of the animals she raised back on Varba) and making us laugh uproariously (with stories of the travails of the hunting party).

    PrivateWun.jpg


    Once we arrived in Skom, though, she quieted down. Even in broad daylight, the glittering carapaces of the saathid residents were eerily reminiscent of the horrifying stories of destructive cleansing and xenocide that we had all seen in holos. The locals – or should I call them newcomers, since they had usurped this land within living memory – were emerging on the streets, staring at our vehicle as if calculating their odds of survival if they all rushed us simultaneously. As we rolled through town, Sergeant Pathir kept muttering, “Stay frosty,” to the others; the air in the vehicle was very tense. None of the locals made a move, however, and no weapons appeared, thankfully. I learned later that scout platoons from the base made regular searches of homes and community centers, which at least reduced the likelihood that any individual civilian might still have a gun. Instead, they remained in passive hostility.

    We found Major Vakor near the eastern edge of the town, a lone vailon in the midst of a crowd of saathids. We stopped the vehicle at a nearby intersection and slid (or walked, as the case may be) over to the group. She towered over them – saathids averaged a little under one meter “tall”, and typically measured themselves by their lengths instead. As we approached, I heard her saying, “Look, I know this is hard for you. The way to make it easier for yourselves is by cooperating. All the captain knew was that his unit was attacked by some type of insurgents, and they escaped into town that way” – and here she pointed over their heads, in the direction we had come from – “and there’s little I can do to protect you when you don’t give him intel he wants.”

    “So it’s okay that they just came around and beat us for it,” one of the saathids wanted to know.

    “Hell yeah!” Private Wun shouted, causing the crowd to scuttle around to see who was there. Sergeant Pathir gave her a withering look, as if to say, not helpful.

    Major Vakor did what she could to calm the increasingly restless locals, shouting over their muttering. “Hey, hey! What Captain Khaww subjected you to last night is illegal! It is against regs, and I will see to it myself that he is disciplined for it.” Her job must be very lonely, I thought, if she was filing reports on every incident of over-eager commanders being too aggressive with the civilian population. I felt a twinge of sympathy for her doomed cause – until I remembered the crimes of the very same saathids that Major Vakor was trying to protect. “But you need to look out for yourselves. Hostile action against Governance forces will create the circumstances for reprisals. I am in no position to prevent something like that.”

    From what I could tell, the major’s words were having an effect. Some of the individuals appeared to be nodding along, resigned to their circumstances and hoping to make the best of it. But the tension was rising anyway. Voices were being raised. I sensed the squad tightening their grips on their rifles as the threat of violence intensified. Sergeant Pathir muttered to the others, “I think we may have to go get her.”

    A few more saathids were now crawling up to the group, their eight legs skittering over the pavement. Private Wun tracked them with her rifle.

    Major Vakor continued reasoning with the civilians, but increasingly she was just being ignored and shouted down. Things seemed to be degenerating quickly.

    “We gotta do something here, boss,” Corporal Schieee said with some urgency, or creeping alarm. “There’s a whole bunch of spiders over who look like they’re spoiling for a fight.” She was covering the north road from one knee; I looked over her head, and saw numerous saathids emerging from buildings, looking at the commotion with curiosity and growing hostility.

    Sergeant Pathir kept calm, but the squad was now outnumbered twenty to one. I was very nervous at the idea of a battle breaking out with me at its center, but I also felt a curious sense of arousal. I tried to prepare myself for if the shooting started, but my mind was buzzing and I was struggling to form coherent thoughts. The thing the sergeant told me was stuck in my head on repeat: “Stay out of their lines of fire. Stay out of their lines of fire.” I looked at him, hoping for reassurance, but he was focused on the crowd.

    The next thirty seconds felt like an hour. Sergeant Pathir finally came to a decision. “Alright, let’s go get her. Private, on me. Corporal, stay with our friend.”

    “Got it.” Corporal Schieee moved to my side, rifle raised, as the other two pushed their way into the crowd. I squished down next to her, which seemed like it would be a good idea but actually probably made little difference. It did mean that I couldn’t see what was going on with the rescue attempt, so I tried to count my breaths to stay calm.

    More angry shouts were coming from the crowd. I looked up; Sergeant Pathir was pushing Major Vakor in front of him; the major was visibly upset. Some of the saathids kicked at their shins. Others threw rocks. One large stone connected with the major’s head. Sergeant Pathir shouted at us, “Get to the vehicle!” I scurried over as fast as I could. Corporal Schieee followed, muttering under her breath, “Why didn’t he have Wun get the vehicle ready while we went to get the major?” Once we reached the car, she turned around and trained her gun on the crowd as we waited for the others, still being pelted with projectiles by the saathids, to catch up. But, finally, we all piled in, Major Vakor having been practically thrown in by the sergeant before he jumped into the front seat and slammed the door. “Go!” he shouted, and we zoomed backwards, away from the impending riot.

    “That went well,” Private Wun observed, sarcastic cheer in her voice.

    Major Vakor was sprawled across the back row, her horn squishing into my side. She righted herself before laying into Sergeant Pathir. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have set them off! There could have been a riot!”

    The sergeant replied, “There might still be a riot.” The vehicle sped away from the town, towards the north.

    “You need to take me back,” the major stated flat out. “I need to defuse the situation before it gets out of control.”

    “It seemed like it was getting out of control in spite of your presence,” Sergeant Pathir growled in return.

    “Well it would be a lot easier if grunts like you weren’t undermining my work every time you stepped outside the fence!”

    “Nice,” Corporal Schieee interjected. “Right in front of the civvie.”

    Major Vakor seemed to finally register my presence.

    “You’re Fern’uni?” She knew how to pronounce my name.

    “Yes.”

    “Okay.” The major stroked her right horn apologetically. “Sorry about this mess. And sorry about…” she trailed off and gestured at my midsection, which still had a horn-shaped indent.

    “It’s okay,” I reassured her. “It’ll reshape itself soon.”

    “Fuck!” Major Vakor shouted, presumably not in response to my assurance. She was touching the back of her head, now matted with blood.

    Corporal Schieee took notice. “You alright, major? I’ve got bandages in my pack.” She reached up to feel the wound.

    “Ouch!” The major whirled instinctively, forcing the corporal to duck her head out of the way of the onrushing horn. “Don’t do that!”

    “You’re gonna need a concussion check, too,” Corporal Schieee noted as she straightened.

    “Later,” Major Vakor spat, turning back to Sergeant Pathir. “That little stunt of yours ruined an entire morning’s work. They were almost ready to move on.”

    The sergeant turned towards the back seat. We were in the open countryside now, miles away from Skom. “I heard the end of the meeting, major. With respect, you were not calming the crowd. They were getting more agitated.” His observations, delivered in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, as if it were patently impossible to disagree, only heightened Major Vakor’s frustration.

    “If you don’t let me do my job, if you’re constantly focused on the immediate danger, they will never trust us. They will never live peacefully alongside us.”

    “Sorry, major, but that is not my concern,” Sergeant Pathir retorted.

    “I wish you would make it more of your concern,” the major snarled. “You might actually save some lives instead of taking them.”

    “If you want to go over the line every day in a foolish attempt to change hearts and minds, that’s your business. But it makes it my business to go extract you before you get yourself killed.”

    Major Vakor snorted, but didn’t say anything. After a moment, she began to fidget with her vest, trying to straighten it, but she only managed to bang her head against the ceiling. “Fuck!” she shouted again, once more holding the back of her head, which had been jarred by the bump.

    “Stop the vehicle,” Corporal Schieee called out. “I need to patch up the major.”

    We pulled over into a field and piled out. Soon the corporal was dabbing at Major Vakor’s injury with a salve; the officer, on one knee so the mith-fell could reach her wound, was wincing with each touch but no longer crying out with pain.

    “Fern’uni,” the major said, beckoning me over. “I’m sorry about all of this. Being on the front lines isn’t like what they show in the holos back home, eh?”

    “I suppose so,” I replied. I’d seen more than a few “realistic” portrayals of militaries in war, but those holos weren’t exactly popular and I thought it easier not to have to explain.

    “There’s just so many absolute idiots. So many patrols running around, thinking they can just rough up civilians whenever they feel like it because we won and they lost. They act like there are no consequences because they have guns and locals don’t.” I nodded along, as it seemed like she was building up a head of steam. “Then I have to come along and clean up their mess. I’m trying to build relationships with the population, but every trip over the line I hear, ‘This squad stole my food,’ and ‘Some vailons started a bar fight.’ And we need these individuals! If we don’t want to be an occupying force, if we don’t want to be colonial masters to a repressed minority, then we need to find ways to show them the benefits of life in the Governance. Otherwise it will just be rebellions followed by reprisals followed by more rebellions forever.”

    There was a ripping sound. Corporal Schieee, preparing the bandage. “Don’t mind me,” she said, as we had both swung our eyes around. “Just a worthless mudsucker here, fixing you up before getting back to beating on some ‘nids.”

    The major grunted and shook her head. “Present company excepted, I guess.” She paused for a moment, then sighed. “Truth is, Sergeant Pathir is one of the good ones. And he was probably right about earlier. That’s between you and me, Corporal,” she said sharply, turning to the mith-fell.

    “Sure, major,” she responded, turning the officer’s head back around so she could access the wound. “Now hold steady for a sec.”

    Major Vakor drew a sharp breath but successfully held her head still. “The saathids are not our enemy,” she continued. “Sorry if that upsets you, but it’s true. We’re not going to expel them from the planet, and we’re not going to make them second-class citizens permanently. Either would be a major violation of the Accord of Governing.” I didn’t need the civics lesson, but I let her speak anyway. I wondered briefly if there was some part of the officer curriculum that encouraged speechifying. “Whatever political settlement Tebazed eventually imposes, it is going to involve some path to citizenship.”

    “For these xenocide fuckers?” Corporal Schieee burst out as she smoothed the edges of the bandage around the major’s wound.

    Yes, even for these xenocide fuckers, I thought. I said, “Well, it only makes sense. The Governance has few ironclad principles at its heart but one of them is the fundamental equality of all sentient lifeforms. If we excluded them, we wouldn’t be ourselves anymore.”

    Corporal Schieee scoffed. “Even for a civvie you are naïve. They were taking advantage of your misfortune. They murdered your friends and stole your land, and you want to let them keep it.”

    The major stood, gingerly touching the back of her head. “This one’s a true believer,” she said, waving towards me. “Like all converts, inevitably the most zealous in any group.”

    Slightly embarrassed, I shifted my body around. “I grew up in the Governance. I don’t remember any other way of life. This is what I know.”

    The corporal laughed again. “My family immigrated when I was young. Came up in a cohort, went through the indoctrination process just like you, and you,” she said, pointing at the major and me in turn. “But I can see the practicalities of the situation anyway. What I don’t understand is, doesn’t some part of your brain, buried in all that fat and flesh, isn’t there some corner of it that just wants to kidnap a couple of ‘nids, take them somewhere dark, and flay them, just like they did to your grannies?”

    It was a valid question, I supposed, though not exactly how it was phrased by my friends on back Tebazed. “I grew up with people like that,” I replied, cautiously. “But they were too angry for me.”

    “I’d be angry!” The corporal flapped her wings in emphasis. “Hell, I am angry!”

    “Well, that’s not me,” I said in return. “And from a more political orientation, I would say we shouldn’t stoop to their level.”

    That earned renewed laughter, this time from both my companions. I looked around; Private Wun was inspecting one of the tires on the vehicle, while Sergeant Pathir was talking into his headset a few meters away.

    Major Vakor was saying, “If only more individuals thought that way,” with a hint of mockery. Corporal Schieee continued, “That’s like me saying, when Wun steals my wing ointment to lubricate his mandibles, eh it’s fine, take as much as you want, instead of swapping out the actual ointment bottle with a decoy filled with glue.” Now it was the major and I who reacted as one, looking at the corporal with concern. She shrugged. “What do you want? The stuff is really hard to get out here! I had to teach her a lesson. And the medics set her right within a few hours anyway.”

    “Alright,” the major said, with a chuckle.

    Sergeant Pathir took the brief pause that ensued as an opportunity to rejoin us. “I just got off the hook with base; they gave us the go-ahead to continue.”

    Major Vakor nodded. “Good.” She turned in my direction. “So, where would you like to go first?”

    I was not prepared for this question. I had anticipated a fight, from either the sergeant or the major; I had a whole speech rehearsed, extolling the virtues of research and understanding and public awareness. “Uh,” I responded, stalling for time. “Where are we?”

    Sergeant Pathir tapped out instructions on his wristband and called up a map projection. “Here,” he said, pointing. “About twenty klicks north of Skom. Do you have your site coordinates? I can overlay them.”

    “Uh, it’s in my bag, I think.” I heard snickers as I slid over to the vehicle. I rummaged through my pack, very conscious of the several sets of eyes watching and waiting. Finally, I found the data disk I was looking for. “Got it!” I called, waving the disk unnecessarily as I came back to the group, followed by Private Wun.

    The sergeant took the disk and tapped his wristband with it. Several locations on the projection were highlighted, descriptive text hovering above each. I touched one, and the projection zoomed in for details. It was incredibly seamless, much more so than anything I’d seen in the civilian world.

    “It’s mith-fell,” Major Vakor explained, sensing my admiration. Made sense – the projection had a green glow I was familiar with from my stay on Tripitit. “Part of our latest round of trade negotiations, I believe.”

    Sergeant Pathir wrenched us back on topic. Tapping some more on his wristband, he scrolled the projection to the region around Skom, and highlighted three locations. “These are closest to us,” he said.

    I pointed to one, pretty much at random. “This one.” It was a suspected mass grave site. As good a place to start as any.

    “Okay.” The sergeant turned around. “Hey, Wun! How’s it looking?

    “All set boss! We can head out whenever.”

    The sergeant looked at the major, who nodded. “Alright, let’s pack it up,” he said.
     
    Interlude - Coming Home, Part III
  • Back on the road, heading northwest. It was only a short trip to the first site, a mass grave near an abandoned farmstead. According to eyewitness testimony, there had once been a small village, a few klicks away, with around two thousand residents. The saathid invasion had come early to this part of the plane; atmospheric strikecraft had bombed the village to rubble on the second day of the war. Still, most of the residents, with nowhere else to go, had remained in the ruins of their homes. For two weeks, they waited and hoped in vain, until a saathid regiment rolled through. At first, they fired at the villagers sporadically and randomly, while the unit set up camp on the outskirts of town. Once darkness fell, the roundups began.

    I know even this much about the fate of the village thanks to a norillgan survivor, wounded instead of killed by his would-be executioner. He hid beneath the bodies of his friends and family for eight hours of consistent gunfire, until dawn came and the saathid regiment rolled out. He fled, just ahead of a second unit, this one presumably tasked with burying the thousand or so corpses, judging by the heavy digging equipment it carried. Gabb, I remembered, was the name of the survivor, this brave soul who stowed away on a garbage scow to escape offworld, who spent weeks in the stinking refuse until the ship was captured by a passing mith-fell patrol. I met Gabb on Tripitit Station. He had made the pilgrimage back from Governance space in order to find any surviving records of his siblings, who had all left the little village to make their ways in the big city in the years prior to the invasion. His recollection, decades after the fact, was one story of a million identical-but-for-the-details stories, only a handful of which I was able to hear during my time at Tripitit.

    As we approached the farmstead, I saw that most of the buildings were still standing, though the main house had partially collapsed. We left the vehicle there and proceeded on foot. Gabb had remembered scrambling up and down a small hill after he escaped, before stumbling on the farmstead, where he was able to scrounge up some food to carry with him on his journey. Based on his story and some time with scans of the area generously provided by the Labor Directory (who were evaluating disused agricultural land for reconversion to food production), I thought I had been able to pinpoint the likely location of the executions. I had some hope that the mass grave or graves would be near that spot, as it would have been a tremendous waste of resources to transport the bodies elsewhere before burying them. A waste of resources, I chuckled to myself as we moved in silence over the abandoned field, long gone to seed, towards the woods. What part of the death and destruction hadn’t been a tremendous waste of resources? I’d heard stories from a few soldiers that the saathids had actually taken units off the front lines during the Governance invasion of 288 in order to finish off the few norillgans still living in the labor camps, hampering the defense of the planet but ensuring that the vailons would not be liberators.

    We crested the hill and looked down on a clearing. “We’d better stop here,” I said to the group. “Don’t want to accidentally trample the site.” I continued down the slope, Major Vakor behind me, while the others dropped their packs and scouted the area with their scopes. At the foot of the hill, I too put down my bag and paused to look around. The major stood next to me, respectful of my quiet. The clearing was roughly rectangular, about fifty meters by one hundred. A sparse forest spread out in front of me; the village, though not visible, was located on the other side of the woods.

    Clearing.jpg


    I fished out the N-Dimensional scanner from my bag. I had it on loan from the Archaeology Section; getting approval from them for field use had been a nightmare. Apparently they were very fragile, one administrator had sternly informed me as he rejected my application. When I asked him why they had made a general scanning device that couldn’t be used to scan things outside of a lab, he kicked me out of his office. The eventual permission I gained was only under the condition that I share my research data and co-publish a paper with one of the Section’s top archaeologists (which actually meant allowing him, a notoriously self-important figure, to be the lead author).

    I had been able to use the scanner a few times at Tripitit Station, as a dry run, but out in the field it proved to be as good as advertised. Every type of scan or material analysis I could want – topographical, soil, atmosphere, chemical composition, DNA, magnetic, and on and on – I could call up in less than a minute. All the more impressive that it had been developed by a team of vailon researchers, rather than relying on secondhand mith-fell or mirovandian tech. Major Vakor was as amazed as I was at its capabilities, at least at the beginning. After a while, though, she grew bored watching me slide around the clearing hitting different buttons on the scanner, announced she had some reports to file, and sat down a little ways up the slope with her portable computer.

    We spent much of the afternoon like that: Major Vakor, sitting on the hill and working through reports, the rest of the squad camped out on the hilltop keeping a lazy watch, and me, exploring and mapping the site. With the sun dipping towards the horizon, I finally powered down the scanner and closed my notebook. The major looked at me as I let out a loud breath of relief, slid over to her perch, and plopped down next to her. “So, what did you find?” she asked.

    I pointed to our left. “Edge of the field. All the way to the treeline, and twelve meters wide. Big enough for a thousand bodies.”

    She nodded gravely, and I continued. “They were held here, in the middle of the clearing. Maybe a dozen at a time marched off into the woods to face the execution squads. Bang. Bang. Single shots to the head, one at a time. That’s all they would have heard while they waited. It was night, so there was little to see. Just the warmth of each other’s bodies, dwindling over the hours.”

    The major was looking at me now. “Are you alright?”

    “Yes,” I said, though I wasn’t certain that was true. “I knew it would be like this.”

    “What will happen to the gravesite?”

    “For now, nothing. I’m going to leave a marker for future researchers. Tonight, I’ll assemble my notes into a file to transmit back to Tebazed.”

    “And later?”

    “Later there will be more, many more researchers. Probably there will be specialized academic institutions established on the planet. Perhaps they will want to excavate this site. But there are many other mass graves. Perhaps these folks will be able to rest in peace.”

    “What about you?”

    “Tomorrow I go to another suspected mass grave, or a labor camp, or a city ruin. I’m planning on being here for eighteen months. I have a lot to see.”

    We sat in silence for a moment, watching the sun setting over the horizon. “It’s getting late,” the major eventually said, unnecessarily. “I’ll talk to the sergeant about returning to base.”

    “Okay,” I said. I was staying in civilian accommodations in Jalin, a short walk from the base. A question occurred to me. “Are they going to wind up accompanying me every day on my field trips?”

    Major Vakor shrugged and stood up. “Probably you’ll want them to.”

    I thought back to the scene in Skom. “True.”

    With that, she trudged up the hill, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
     
    Chapter Twenty-Three - Auspicious Days
  • The Auspicious Entente, the treaty organization formed to represent the Tebazed Unified Governance and the Pithok Confederacy in matters of mutual concern, was born on May 8, 298, in a grand ceremony held in Sedrin, but its roots could be traced back decades. Some scholarship even held that the unification of Tebazed over the course of the 1st and 2nd centuries was itself a continuous, incremental process of federation-building, much like the agreements that brought the Entente between the vailons and pithoks into being. However, the first proposals for a specifically interstellar federation appeared in the early 210s. The early scholars in the budding field of interstellar relations had many novel ideas for galactic governance, ranging from loose anti-piracy confederations to strong, centralized, multi-species states or empires. These were distant visions, however. Vailon ambassadors were focused on the practical diplomacy that followed first contacts with the Mith-Fell Independent Commonwealth, the Hissma Union, and the Varelviv Interplanetary Sovereignty.

    In the 220s, the early work on federation took on a new urgency, with the signing of a mutual defense treaty with the hissma and the thawing of relations with the mith-fell. As varelvivi slaving raids increased in frequency and strength, the other three species began to work closely to counter the threat. Raldirm den Vakor, then in her second term as Director-General, pushed hard to expand the terms of their agreements, from a focus on military cooperation to a broader alignment on economic, migration, and social policies, with an eye towards eventually establishing a unified governing structure similar to that of the TUG. These efforts culminated at the Hissom Summit in January of 224, where Vakor was unable to find mutually agreeable terms for a broad pact. Instead, her fellow heads of state formed their own looser version of military confederation, leaving the vailons out in the cold. This new organization, dubbed the Glorious Axis, promptly invited the vailons to join as associate members, which they grudgingly accepted. Critically, acceding to the Glorious Axis as associate members did not confer mutual defense obligations on either party. A varelvivi invasion of the TUG followed within a year, and plans for a grand federation were shelved, not to reemerge for over half a century.

    In 220, vailon knowledge of the galaxy was limited to their three immediate neighbors. Seven decades on, the Milky Way was a much busier place: 32 major empires, along with sundry other enclaves, statelets, and vassals, filled the hyperlane network of the known galaxy. The TUG, as associate members of the Glorious Axis, remained close with its hissma and mith-fell neighbors. [1] As the Saathid War drew to a close, the Governance also maintained defensive alliances with a pair of middle-rank military powers: the Cyggan Empire and the Pithok Confederacy. Twenty years of war, however, had only emphasized the shortcomings of its current diplomatic arrangements. By picking its fights carefully, and leveraging its diplomatic prowess to the utmost, the Governance had just managed to topple the tiny and outgunned slaving empire of the varelvivi while holding the Seban Commonwealth at bay in the border regions of cyggan territory; in the galactic east, it proved unable to prevent the xenocide of their ragerian allies at the hands of the saathids even after launching a full-scale invasion of saathid territory.

    Moreover, the friendly powers that ostensibly protected the hyperlanes to vailon territory were not necessarily the most reliable allies. To the galactic west, the authoritarian Cyggan Empire had been allies of convenience since the 260s. But the empire was avowedly xenophobic and imperialistic, and the new emperor Malungord was unwilling to be restrained from aggressive actions. In 287, the cyggans invaded the nearly defenseless Irenic Varelviv Mandate, once again taking advantage of varelvivi weakness in the aftermath of a defeat at the hands of the Governance in order to annex several systems, this time including the varelvivi homeworld of Viverva. The vailon administration was angered by the invasion, so recently having installed a friendly government on Viverva, but there was little they could do against a treaty ally beyond delivering a formal protest. Instead, the incident only served to underline the dangers of having an imperialist power as a neighbor.

    To the northeast, the large region controlled by the friendly powers of Glorious Axis sheltered Governance space, notably denying the saathids the opportunity to launch a counter-invasion of vailon territory. This was not a permanent guarantee of peace, however. While the saathid xenociders might have been a threat to all civilized species, the mith-fell and the hissma were apt to make hard-nosed choices when lower-stakes threats materialized, prioritizing their own ambitions in the quadrant over regional security. The navies of the Glorious Axis launched successive invasions of their own against the saathids and the Mandasura Prime hive mind across the 280s and 290s, but their governments made no effort to prevent a yeon raiding fleet from passing through their territory en route to the vailon world of Varba in 288. [2] With the Unified Navy deep in saathid space at the time, and few ships available in reserve, the attack resulted in thousands of deaths and tens of thousands of captured civilians, and a permanent cooling of relations between the Governance and its neighbors.

    VarbaRaid.jpg

    VarbaRaidFleet.jpg

    The Yeon fleet orbited Varba for three weeks, raining down fire indiscriminately before landing and capturing the inhabitants of isolated and undefended villages.

    Surrounded by unreliable allies of various stripes, the Governance’s strongest partners would be found further abroad. The southwest quadrant had for decades been split amongst a coterie of medium-sized powers. In recent years, however, many smaller states had been absorbed by the relentlessly expanding Jess’Inax Hive, while an unlikely alliance between the sebans and the interstellar revolutionaries of the Dabbax Solidarity threatened to dominate the quadrant before long. In response, the remaining independent empires were eager to find friends from outside the region. The cyggans, trapped between the sebans and the dabbax, had already become reliant on the vailons, and by extension the pithoks, to maintain their territorial integrity; the Pobelin Stellar Hegemony hoped to build its own relationship with Tebazed to accomplish the same ends for themselves. The pobelins controlled no more than a dozen systems in the early 290s, but they were fierce and fearsome warriors, fanatically devoted to the defense of the Holy Shrines of Ephemerality that dotted the surface of their homeworld. On several occasions the pobelin navy had resolutely stood its ground against the heathen communists, but they recognized that they would be overrun by the combined forces of the sebans and the dabbax in the long run. They were quick to sign a defensive treaty with the Governance following the conclusion of the Saathid War in 295. When the negotiations over the terms of the Auspicious Entente began a few years later, however, the pobelins declined an invitation to participate, citing their focus on the “divine calling” to protect the Shrines. Instead, they would become the first of the treaty organization’s associate members.

    The Pelx-Cradonian Confederacy, meanwhile, had been ejected from the cradonian homeworld of Cradon in the 270s, retreating to a wide swath of sparsely inhabited space along the outer rim of the galaxy. Vailon entreaties at the time were rebuffed, floundering in the face of the reality that Governance support would take over five years to reach the new cradonian territory in the event of war. In the next twenty years, the cradonian political-military establishment experienced a series of coups that led to the state continuously reversing its policies from year to year. For most of the 280s, the regime used mild tensions with the Governance over a small cluster of unclaimed stars between the two states to cast the vailons as an imperialist power bent on hegemony; [3] by the early 290s, a new clique had come to power and lent overt material support to the TUG in its war against the saathid menace. When Director-General Birm den Boknar reopened strategic talks in 295, with an eye towards hammering out a settlement on the disputed territory and an agreement on mutual defense, she was met with a haughty denunciation of the vailon commitment to diplomatic means of settling conflicts. Simultaneously, the incumbent generalissimo signaled through back channels that the cradonians would be willing to accede to vailon control of the disputed systems, provided the Governance agreed to favorable trade terms for operations in the sector.

    PelxCradonianGift.jpg
    PelxCradonianRelations.jpg

    Commissary-General Nikat Makhan often spoke out of both sides of his mouth.

    The Pithok Confederacy straddled the northwest and southwest quadrants of the galaxy, but it had long focused its attention on the latter. [4] An alliance had been formed with the Governance in the waning days of the Telnik administration, with terms that included cooperation on anti-piracy and anti-slavery patrols as well as exclusive trading pacts and a scientific exchange program. The two states had grown closer following the Confederacy’s democratic revival in the early 280s. [5] The pithoks had agreed to intervene in the long-running conflict between the cyggans and the sebans, freeing up TUG resources to be redeployed against the saathids. Wartime coordination necessitated a deeper, more embedded form of cooperation; in addition to mid-ranking naval attaches that were assigned to each other’s admiralty staffs, the two navies established a Joint Planning Commission, comprised of three admirals from each side as well as a civilian administrator from each government. Very quickly, the JPC became the locus of efforts to develop and implement a unified strategy for the quadrant; its staff ballooned into the thousands, and its remit grew to include not only military coordination but also the anti-piracy and anti-slavery initiatives as well as the organization and defense of refugee convoys.

    In the decade of the JPC’s existence, it made significant strides in maintaining regional security: interdicting smuggler rings, breaking up an organized crime operation on Vurl-Palod, a new standard for deep space patrol routines. But, as an independent commission, it existed outside the naval chain of command. It was not assigned any units directly, instead relying on requests to the formal military structures of the respective states when operations were planned. These requests were frequently delayed or went unfulfilled entirely; many commanders resented losing control of their forces, and they especially hated handing them over for humanitarian missions conducted by foreign powers. Frustrated by the consistent inability to obtain forces for their operations, the members of the JPC returned to their respective governments and pleaded for more authorities, including a subset of military units that would report directly to the commission.

    Boknar was enthusiastic about the idea, particularly after the cease-fire with the saathids freed up many units from wartime duties, but her counterpart on the pithok side, High Commissioner Unipak Xankikin, expressed only lukewarm support. His objections were primarily political in nature, not substantive; if he had the unilateral authority to do so, he told Boknar privately at one meeting, he would sign whatever document she put in front of him. But the democratization of the pithok government was not universally popular, and a number of influential families still exerted significant control over the military establishment. To break their power, he needed to wrest control away from those families; but the easiest way to do that, a major reshuffling that involved reassigning some units to the JPC, couldn’t be done without the families’ agreement. Boknar, ever the pragmatist, suggested to the pithok that he might use his upcoming elections to win a mandate on the question. Campaigning on a populist, anti-elite and anti-corruption platform in 297, he did just that, paving the way for him to oust a few key admirals in top posts and strengthen his own control over the military.

    Xankikin and Boknar immediately agreed to transfer a number of units over to the JPC, bolstering its ability to carry out its missions. But the commission’s deliberative nature, with eight members of equal voting power, lacked the decisiveness of a traditional military hierarchy. Now that the commission could intervene in critical situations with the force of arms, competing priorities among the commissioners bogged down the decision-making process and prevented those forces from ever being deployed. Boknar seized the opportunity to push for far-reaching reforms, hoping to refashion the joint commission into an independent force entirely separated from the existing navies of the two states. Moreover, she proposed to subsume this new navy within a treaty-based organization, similar in structure to the Glorious Axis of the mith-fell and hissma, which would oversee all military and civilian efforts in the southwest quadrant.

    FederationAgreementPithok.jpg

    Negotiations over the terms of the Auspicious Entente were completed quickly.

    When all the negotiations were completed, the paperwork finalized, and the signing ceremony held, the Auspicious Entente largely held to the original structure proposed by Boknar. A “federation” like the Glorious Axis in all but name, the Entente would feature a permanent co-presidency, shared by the two elected heads of state. The chief executive of the civilian branch and the grand admiral leading the military branch would be appointed to coterminous ten-year terms, with the power to appoint rotating between the two presidents – a Governance-selected executive would serve with a Confederacy-selected admiral, and vice versa. Both states committed to providing the Entente 8.5% of their annual revenues for its operating costs, as well as a quota of ships, hardware, infrastructure, and personnel to constitute the new polity. Important decisions, including the application of economic sanctions and the deployment of “major” forces, required the support of both presidents. Neither state would be permitted to sign separate treaties with third parties in the quadrant without the approval of the other. And, critically, a set of mutual defense clauses continued the obligation of each state to defend the other from outside aggression, regardless of the source. Third parties would be allowed to align themselves with the new organization by signing Articles of Association, which committed those states to the mutual defense clauses of the Entente treaty and granted them favorable trading terms with the members but did not allow them to participate in the cooperative decision-making elements of the treaty. Within a month of the treaty going into effect, two states had signed up for association status: the other regional allies of the Governance, the Cyggan Empire and the Pobelin Stellar Hegemony.

    The day after the formal signing ceremony, the two co-presidents of the Entente announced their selections for the chief executive and grand admiral positions. Director-General Boknar chose Virpim den Iridar, a 48-year-old native of Eldetha with ten years’ experience overseeing refugee efforts, to run the civilian operations, while High Commissioner Xankikin tapped Zaox Vartinaca, a veteran flag officer who had commanded a flotilla during the seban intervention, to head the joint military. These two figures would be the face of Entente decision-making for a decade, and for two years they busied themselves with building out the bureaucratic apparatus or the new organization and conducting goodwill missions to various colonies throughout the quadrant. The real test of the new Entente would only come with its first crisis, however, which arrived in due course: in August of 300, the Jess’Inax Hive declared war on the Auspicious Entente, ushering in a new century that promised to be as violent as the one before.


    [1] This went beyond diplomatic agreements; over the decades, billions had migrated in one direction or the other across the mutually open borders, creating strong cultural ties, and they were each other’s largest trading partner.
    [2] The Yeon Braves, much like the Qvefoz, were a collection of disorganized clans inhabiting a series of deep space habitats. Worshippers of a deity they referred to as “She of the Void,” they had long been a nuisance in the northeast quadrant of the galaxy. Before the raid on Varba, their ships had never before been spotted in the southeast.
    [3] This cluster of systems had only two hyperlane entrances, one through Qvefoz space and the other through the silent stars controlled by the enigmatic machine intelligence known only as the Prime Continuity. The nine star systems were claimed by both the cradonians and the Governance, though effective control remained out of reach of either as long as access was limited to lone ships sneaking past marauder patrols. Recent breakthroughs in hyperlane breaching and jump drive technology, however, augured the possibility of exerting actual control – and development – irrespective of the status of the surrounding hyperlanes.
    [4] To the north of pithok territory lay the powerful alliance between the Belmacosa Empire and the Khell’Zen Kingdom. While not exactly secure allies, the pithoks had been able to maintain cordial relations with the pair even as they conquered the other states in the region.
    [5] Lertrak Aspinaca, the young scion of the ruling Aspinaca family, rose to power in 281 and revealed his previously hidden reformist instincts and democratic ideology. Before his assassination three years later, he was able to install a series of reforms to root power in individual citizens rather than family units, and inspired a generation of pithok leaders to follow in his footsteps.
     
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    Chapter Twenty-Four - The Year 300: A Census
  • January 1, 300 marked the 100th anniversary of the launching of the ISS Jhunustarion, the lead ship of the Windur-class of exploratory science vessels and the first vailon ship with a fully capable interstellar jump drive. Birm den Boknar, the incumbent Director-General, declared a Governance-wide holiday to commemorate the event, with festivities in nearly every town and city on every colony in the vailon-dominated, if no longer vailon-majority, state.

    BirmDenBoknar.jpg

    Birm den Boknar, Director-General from 285.

    By the beginning of the fourth century, approximately 260 billion individuals called the TUG home. Vailons still accounted for a significant plurality of the population, though the gap between the founders and the second-largest demographic group had been shrinking for several decades. From 65% in 280, the vailon percentage of the population had fallen to 49% in 290 and 39% in 300. The state was growing ever more diverse: no other single species comprised even 10% of the population, with tezhnids, the second-most-common species, checking in at 9.6%. Other minority populations of note included pobelins (8.8% of the population), pithoks (7.6%), sathori (6.0%), and mith-fell (5.2%).

    Here follows a survey of the demographics and economic situation of the nine colonies of the Tebazed Unified Governance in 300.

    Core

    Tebazed
    Vailon homeworld
    The capital and namesake of the Tebazed Unified Governance persisted as the economic and political center of the state. Over 60 billion individuals lived across its surface, roughly two-thirds of whom were concentrated in major urban agglomerations. While the capital city, Sedrin, remained relatively small, with only 70 million inhabitants, by 300 two dozen separate cities had surpassed 500 million in population, with the Lopinira megalopolis home to ten billion individuals by itself. Though xenos now outnumbered vailons on most of the colonies, on the homeworld the founders still predominated, accounting for 91% of the population.

    Tebazed was not only home to the largest population in the Governance; the planet was also the leading producer of most advanced industrial goods. Factories on Tebazed manufactured highly complex secondary and tertiary products, including high-value consumer electronics; plants in Lopinira produced precision machine tools and scientific instruments on par with the skilled artisans of Mirovandia Prime. These products found their way into the laboratories and research institutes that made the vailon homeworld a galactic hub for biochemical and physical research.

    Eldetha
    Founded 205
    The first vailon interstellar colony had grown to a population of 38 billion and still considered itself to be the second planet of the Governance. The population was more diverse than the homeworld, with vailons accounting for 57% of individuals living on the surface. Tezhnids formed a substantial minority, as they did across the core worlds; on Eldetha, they numbered eight and a half billion. Mith-fell, norillgans, pobelins, and varelvivi also comprised populations in excess of one billion on the world.

    The mining industry was the beating heart of the Eldethan economy. For decades, the second world of the Governance had been its leading producer of raw ore; in 260, two out of every three workers on the planet were posted in a mining or mining-related job. Since then, even though gross production continued to increase, as a percentage of total output the Eldethan mining sector lost ground as peripheral colonies became more important to the economy. However, the Eldethan administration had offset this decline by investing in secondary industries, which could rely on local sources of cheap ore to out-compete older, more established factories on the homeworld.

    Varba
    Founded 210

    In a century of vailon stellar exploration, Varba remained the only colony to suffer an attack by a hostile fleet. Though the Yeon Raid of 288 had killed tens of thousands and permanently scarred the landscape in the picturesque Arbeth region, the colony continued to grow and thrive. Twelve years on, vailons comprised 53% of the roughly 30 billion inhabitants, while tezhnids formed the only sizable minority group, accounting for a quarter of the individuals on the planet.

    At the turn of the century, Varba remained a center of heavy industry and military production. Vast foundries formed the heart of most urban areas, while a steady stream of freighters carried the output to the massive civilian shipyards in orbit as well as the main naval drydocks located at the Con Viab starbase. [1] Varba was also a major center of trade, owing chiefly to its location on the border with, and status as gateway to, the Mith-Fell Independent Commonwealth.

    Polosch Arm

    Firintarogga
    Founded 244

    Mith-fell migrants famously settled Firintarogga in 244, and the earliest settlers still dominate much of political, economic, and social life on the planet. Though the mith-fell were, in 300, (temporarily) no longer the most populous species on the planet — for a brief period, the sathori community surpassed the size of the mith-fell community, due to an influx of refugees from the collapsing Sathori Union — they still held an overwhelming majority of top positions in the colonial government, as well as most key industrial postings. Mith-fell accounted for roughly 40% of the inhabitants but well over 70% of administrative and upper-level management positions on the planet.

    BeakOfIndigo.jpg

    Wrbli, official name Beak of Indigo, [2] governed Firintarogga from 272 to 312.

    Civilian industries dominated the economy of Firintarogga. Most settlements were centered around factories producing mass-market goods ranging from clothing to personal electronic devices. While many workers lived in semi-rural towns near their places of work, a few major cities dotted the surface. Taking advantage of mith-fell techniques, large parts of these urban areas were constructed on floating islands just offshore of the settled landmasses, forming a unique land-sea living arrangement.

    Ferdera
    Founded 244

    Ferdera lay at the extreme end of the Polosch arm; it was the furthest colony, save the occupied norillgan homeworld in the Uiafladus system, from Tebazed. Nevertheless, it remained a vailon-plurality world, with 38% of the 25 billion individuals on the planet being the founder species. 29% of the population were tezhnids, 13% pobelins, and the remainder a scattering of xeno species including pithoks, varelvivi, and the lone djunn [3] community of any significance in the Governance.

    At the turn of the century, Ferdera remained the “breadbasket” of the TUG, responsible for producing around 40% of its agricultural output every year. While most of this output was consumed in the heavily urbanized colonies of Firintarogga and The Veil, [4] a growing proportion was exported to external trading partners, primarily the Hissma Union and the Mith-Fell Independent Commonwealth, both of which lay just a few hyperlane jumps away from Ferdera.

    Kampira
    Founded 267

    Kampira was a relative backwater. With only fifteen billion inhabitants living in a primarily rural society, Kampira was an insignificant component of the wider Governance economy. The jungle planet was home to significant populations of xenos, with pithoks accounting for two-fifths of the total, pobelins one-third, and norillgans one-fifth. About the only other thing of note was the colony’s large-scale experimentation with a robotic workforce, the first of its kind in the TUG. Almost half of its farm labor was comprised of fully autonomous robots; it was this segment of the economy that supplied Kampira’s meager export business.

    Nagrama
    Founded 269

    If Kampira was considered a backwater in 300, then Nagrama barely rated a mention at all. Few vailons lived on either of these twin colonies, separated by only a single hyperlane jump. Approximately fourteen billion individuals lived alongside Nagrama’s dense jungles, a similar proportion of pithoks, norillgans, and pobelins to its slightly older sister colony, differing only in adding a significant number of zaydrans to the mix.

    Despite its low profile, Nagrama was growing in importance in the TUG economy. Early surveys had indicated that the planet featured significant deposits of raw ores located across several mountain ranges; the first prospectors planetside discovered that the raw material reserves actually outstripped the mineral-rich Eldetha by a factor of three. By 300, massive investment had lifted the Nagraman mining sector to number one in the Governance - beating out even the legacy producers on the first vailon colony.

    The Veil

    The Veil
    Founded 267

    In the thirty-plus years since its settling, The Veil had grown at an astonishing rate. By the end of the century, it had surpassed the original vailon core colonies of Eldetha and Varba to become the second-most-populated planet in Governance space. The idyllic planet had become the leading destination for migration to the TUG; species from all regions of the galaxy and of all habitation preferences lived on the surface, in some cases spread out across the vastly different biomes but also side-by-side in massive and growing urban agglomerations. No single species dominated: the largest migrant communities were ragerian, rontor, and obevni, each checking in at around fifteen percent of the 39 billion that called the Gaia world home.

    GaiaPlanet.jpg

    The Veil hosted dozens of distinct biomes across its surface; no species yet encountered could fail to find a suitable place to live on the planet.

    The urban centers of The Veil naturally attracted industries that benefited from close exchange of goods, individuals, and ideas. Mass production of consumer goods, entertainment and cultural groups, and research programs were all widespread. These sectors were the beneficiaries not just of network effects, but also the positive externalities of demographic diversity itself. With such a wide variety of cultural output, The Veil became a celebrated — and more-than-occasionally derided — taste-maker for the wider Governance economy.

    Under Military Administration

    Uiafladus II
    Though martial law was formally ended in 297, the second planet orbiting the star Uiafladus remained under military administration. A steady stream of norillgans had returned to their homeworld, encouraged by generous Governance promises to undertake a massive infrastructure building program and recapitalize the economy. After twelve years of control and five years of peace, however, saathids remained in the majority on the planet. The Foundation Accords banned discrimination in all forms, extending equal protection to all lawful inhabitants of Governance territory. Moreover, the nascent body of galactic law built on the principle of respect for individual rights, and though the genocidal saathid state was not a party to any of the relevant interstellar agreements, the Boknar administration made a determination that the rules applied in these circumstances.

    Despite the influx of individuals and investment, war had taken a toll on the planet from which it had yet to recover. The colony was deficient in agricultural production and energy generation, depending on imports to feed its population and power its electrical grid. Meanwhile, the only hyperlane to the beleaguered planet passed through saathid space; with no guarantee of safe transit forthcoming from the saathid government, trade remained hazardous and every convoy headed to or from the colony required a naval escort. In such a precarious situation, the administration shelved plans to spin off the planet as a self-sufficient, quasi-independent political entity for the time being.

    Footnotes

    [1] Once the centerpiece of the defensive strategy employed by Admiral Sarim den Piriam during the First Varelviv War, the massive military installation, now deep inside Governance space instead of on the outskirts, had been converted into the main shipyards of the Unified Navy.
    [2] Mith-fell custom dictated that government officials and others in positions of power take "official" names to reflect the dignity of their offices.
    [3] The djunn were extra-galactic invaders along the northern rim of the galaxy. After contributing to the downfall of the hythean-sathori federation, they had themselves been conquered by the wealthy mirovandian empire.
    [4] Tebazed was largely self-sufficient in food products, and in fact was able to supply the other core worlds with its modest surplus.
     
    Chapter Twenty-Five - Social Trends
  • Demonym

    Though many external sources continued to use “vailon” as a valid demonym for the Governance or its citizens, the term had fallen out of use inside the TUG over the second half of the third century. With the proportion of actual vailons falling steadily every year, dipping below 40% for the first time in 298, many new terms came into use. The administration of Birm den Boknar made it a priority to adopt a new official demonym in time for the centennial celebrations. After extensive surveys of its citizens, attempting to analyze the population across as many dimensions as possible in order to select a broadly acceptable world, the administration settled on the term “Tebazeder,” already in wide use across large swathes of the polity. The term was also occasionally employed to refer to any resident of the vailon homeworld; to avoid any official confusion, the Directory adopted another word, “Zedder,” as the proper demonym of an individual from Tebazed.

    Social Hierarchies

    As the founders of the Tebazed Unified Governance, vailons were in many ways still the primary species of the polity in 300. Vailons still occupied the upper echelons of most institutions, partly for historical reasons (more vailons had more experience in more roles with more responsibilities) and partly due to the implicit biases that still permeated society. The Accord, the founding document of the TUG and the main constitutional arrangement for the polity, enshrined formal equality for all citizens as a key pillar of the law; subsequent legal cases and practices repeatedly concluded that this applied to vailons and non-vailons alike. This was traditionally understood to strive for equality of opportunity, wherein all individuals have equal access to resources and jobs and career advancement should be based solely on the merit of one’s abilities.

    However, even the Directory’s own social scientists consistently found that the posting system favors the founder species. Vailons remained in the majority at the upper echelons of society — in the Directory, among political appointees of the administration, and of course at the very top, where no non-vailon had ever been selected, or even been considered a major candidate, for Director-General. Moreover, statistical analysis demonstrated that vailons applicants were more likely to be selected than those of other species with similar resumes and testing aptitudes. This remained a sensitive topic for the founder species, who still espoused the notion that the Governance was a true meritocracy. One notorious incident in 296 was a stark illustration of the problem: when a researcher in the Sociology Section of the Science Directory published a study that developed a hierarchy of species based on the results of posting applications, the Boknar administration was roundly criticized in the Assembly and across the homeworld. Eventually, the administration denounced the results and disowned the work, transferring the scientist out of the department and into the obscure Loop Section, where her work would attract less attention. There was a limit to even the vailons’ capacity for dispassionate consideration of the facts.

    There were, however, well-structured aspects of Governance society that lived up to the lofty aspirations contained in the Accords. The cohort system remained a great leveler. Native xenos who were educated in a cohort were more likely to be chosen for postings than citizens of the same species who were educated in independent schooling programs and much more likely than immigrants or refugees of the same species. With each passing decade, the disparity in outcomes between cohort xenos and non-cohort xenos increased, and the gap between cohort xenos and vailons decreased.

    Most cohorts were mono-species. For various physio-socio-cultural reasons, members of the same species often chose to live in communities of their own making, even while adopting, or keeping to, vailon modes of social organization. This was especially true on Tebazed, home to nearly a quarter of the population of the Governance, where nine out of ten residents were of the founder species. On the homeworld, outside of the few cities that had seen significant xeno inflows, most cohorts were exclusively vailon. But even on the colonies, where no single species was nearly as dominant a majority, cohorts outside of the few major cities reflected the existing segregated populations.

    Only on The Veil was the story substantially different. There, streams of refugees had intermixed and overwhelmed the early administrators who might have wanted to keep the process of resettlement more organized and segregated, if only so that they could guarantee each individual would have access to adequate housing in a suitable climate. As it was, while most refugees were able to move to a biome that suited their physiological needs, the dense neighborhoods and cities that sprouted up around migrant settlements had significantly mixed populations. These agglomerations of individuals from many species, congregating and living together in a fabric of urban life, provided a further attraction to incoming migrants, drawn to both the inter-planetary and the inter-species economic and cultural opportunities, which were then passed on to the local cohorts.

    Among the several species that now made up the fabric of the TUG there emerged an informal hierarchy. [1] At the bottom were xenos like saathids, universally reviled for the genocidal actions of their government even though the saathids who chose to live in the Governance proper had all left their society behind for good. Scarcely better off were the varelvivi; a century of hostility between the two polities had led the few varelvivi who lived in Governance space to be treated as enemy citizens, inherently subject to mistrust. As a result, these xenos tended to live in insular communities, avoiding contact as much as possible with most Governance citizens.

    Sathori.jpg

    A sathori migrant in traditional robes waits at a refugee processing center on The Veil.

    Other xenos were afforded something approaching social equality. The vast majority of non-vailons were not discriminated against on account of the actions of their societies of origin. Most of the largest xeno communities — tezhnids, pobelins, pithoks, mith-fell — experienced life in the Governance essentially as equals. The sathori, the largest refugee community, were overwhelmingly among the poorest citizens of the TUG. As their state faced successive invasions from their more powerful neighbors in the Northwest Quadrant, more and more sathoris fled the region with no more than the clothes on their back, hoping to find a place of safety and security. The Governance welcomed them all with open arms, but some of the wealthier immigrant communities came to resent their status. They felt that they had worked to earn their equality while the sathori had been handed it, betraying the continuing presence of old, non-vailon biases against the undeserving poor.

    Certain smaller minorities had distinct experiences. Due to differences in preferred habitats (mirovandians hailed from a cold, dry planet; aside from a small region on The Veil, no vailon colony adequately recreated the tundra conditions of their home), few mirovandians immigrated to the Governance. Those that did were often assumed to have come under the auspices of expanding markets for businesses back home, and they were generally treated with all the suspicion due to predatory capitalists. Djunn, meanwhile, were rare enough to be considered a novelty by most Tebazeders. Their extra-galactic origin, from somewhere off the northern rim of the galaxy, lent them a particular aura of mystery, as if they might not be as corporeal as everyone else, a feeling that was reinforced by a palpable sense of fear that seemed to permeate the air around them. That their species-mates had committed mass bloodlettings across a dozen planets, including the sathori homeworld of Sathoria, only served to encourage more rumors of supernatural powers. It was the ragerians, however, who had perhaps the most distinctive experience. Their physiological similarities to vailons meant that they often blended in with the founder species, at least in the eyes of the non-vailon majority. As a result, their socio-economic status was on par with the founder species throughout the TUG. However, many ragerians felt a sense of unease with their unearned position in society; they were in fact non-native citizens of the Governance and often felt more solidarity with their xeno neighbors than the founders.

    Djunn.jpg

    Djunn were all the more disconcerting for their apparent lack of facial features.

    Crime

    Crime rates on Governance colonies were much lower than the galactic average. This would typically go unnoticed among vailon observers, for whom this was not just a contemporary trend. Historical data series demonstrated that, at comparable levels of development, vailon societies had almost always been in the lowest tier of crime rates relative to their peers across the galaxy. It was, however, a very salient fact for immigrants. Many migrants left their homes precisely because crime was so high and they were looking for a better, safer life. Though polling demonstrated that second-generation xenos — the children of migrants — did not rate crime highly among the benefits of living in the TUG, new migrant cohorts continued to emphasize low crime rates as a primary motivation for coming to the Governance and as a particular benefit of living in vailon space.

    As a result, Tebazeder researchers who investigated crime and its causes were overwhelmingly non-vailon, whether immigrants themselves or the children of the same. A naturally intense debate developed over the causes of the disparity between the Governance and other interstellar polities. The fight eventually coalesced around two competing theories. On one side, social theorists argued that vailon culture had adopted debate as its preferred form of conflict resolution, channeling negative emotions and instincts away from the types of impulsive aggressive behavior that characterize most criminal activities in other species. Economic realists, on the other hand, focused on the generous social welfare system of the Governance, which prevented poverty and therefore most of the reasons an individual might have to turn to crime. Both camps, however, agreed in their rejection of biological determinism theories, which held some sway in certain pockets but were thoroughly belied by the reduced crime rates across all xeno groups in the TUG.

    Food

    While some sociocultural phenomena translated easily across physiologies, biological differences between species had proven to be a major hurdle for the development of a shared culture of food. Among vailons, eating remained a social activity; a vailon would be truly sad indeed to take a meal alone. Food was a critical element of most gatherings, whether formal and ritualistic or a casual get-together among friends. Cuisines had diverged and multiplied across the several colonies, as different communities incorporated local ingredients or influences from various xeno cultures. But the communal aspects remained in common, and public eateries, where anyone could dine and find dining partners, continued to be a mainstay across the Governance.

    Of course, vailons were no longer a majority community in the Governance. Food cultures varied widely among the different xeno populations; and, much as the vailon pre-interstellar tradition persisted, most species retained decades or centuries-old food practices. A few examples will suffice to demonstrate:

    Tezhnids eat an entirely non-animal diet, typically dining in small-to-medium sized groups. A few friends might take meals together on social occasions, or an extended family of forty or more might gather for important rituals, but most meals for tezhnids in the Governance would be eaten in public communal settings, in this way adapting to the dominant vailon culture.

    Tebazeder pithoks were divided into two distinct groups. For families [2] that migrated to the TUG, pithok traditions continued to dominate their lifestyles, including taking meals in thousand-plus-individual gatherings. However, many pithoks broke with their families to travel to vailon territory, and these individuals often proved to be the most adaptable of the various xeno groups. These pithoks adopted vailon customs and seamlessly assimilated into the dominant culture. Pithoks were thus a common sight at eateries run by nearly every xeno group in the Governance.

    Pithok.jpg

    As new partners in federation, pithoks were looked upon favorably by most Tebazeders.

    Mith-fell eating customs had been subordinated to business interests on their homeworld for centuries, and migrants from Kan Jukla and its colonies often recreated what they knew after they came to the Governance. Networks of small restaurants sprang up wherever a mith-fell community developed, often coexisting side-by-side with several large chains that followed the migrants to their new homes. Individual mate pairings, however, would often cook in their homes for their meals, especially if they were too poor to afford local restaurants. [3]

    Mirovandians valued food only insofar as it provided the necessary nutrients for a day’s activities. Their traditional cultures placed very little emphasis on dietary intake, and the latter-day entrepreneurial spirit of the Galactic Mirovandian Commonwealth only relegated food further away from the center of mirovandian life. Mirovandians typically consumed foodstuffs alone, in small snacks spread throughout the day; a mirovandian would typically carry with them copious amounts of small edible items, so that they were never deprived when the need for food struck.

    Earth’s humans only recently joined the ranks of the interstellar community as clients of the Governance, and the bipedal mammals had not yet been greatly influenced by xeno cultures. They tended to eat alone or in small groups; only for important life-cycle rituals did humans gather in large numbers for meals. The small community of humans residing in the Governance, primarily diplomatic personnel and associated persons living in Sedrin, were proof of the Earthers’ natural capacity for adaptation: the humans almost uniformly adopted vailon foods and customs, taking all of their meals in the public cafeterias of the capital and showing a marked preference for sampling the many available xeno cuisines over eating the foods of their homeworld.

    Transportation

    In one sense, the Interstellar Age was nothing more than a simple advancement of transportation technology to a new paradigm. With a wider view, this technological development was a revolution, a profound and fundamental break with previous limits on vailon existence. The advent of hyperlane breaching technology annihilated the unfathomable distances between stars; journeying between systems, visiting alien planets, became something that most vailons were able to experience over the course of their lifetimes.

    But the distances remained large, and non-FTL travel remained slow, with breakthroughs in direct propulsion technology providing incremental speed advantages instead of radical leaps. Even at the end of the century, casual travel between colonies was severely limited; unless the planets happened to be in neighboring systems, the journey from one colony to another could take weeks or months in most cases, years for destinations like Ferdera, out in the farthest reaches of the Polosch Arm. As a result, most residents of the Governance were local creatures, rarely traveling more than one hyperspace jump away from their home.

    Deep-space travel remained expensive for individuals for most of the third century. But start-up costs were astronomical, and few private entrepreneurs directed their efforts towards breaking into the commercial passenger market. As a result, the administration operated a virtual monopoly in interstellar transit. Service followed a hub-and-spoke model; big passenger liners, large enough to carry tens of thousands of individuals, ran frequently between major colonies, while smaller vessels handled routes to smaller frontier colonies, or from colonies to nearby systems.

    Interplanetary trade accounted for the majority of ships traveling along space lanes at any given time. Historically, small-scale traders, owning their own ships and making one-off arrangements with manufacturers and wholesalers, dominated the field. In the latter decades of the century, however, groups of traders banded together to pool their risk, forming joint-stock ventures to manage their efforts. Eventually these JSVs attracted investment from outside principals. While vailons had very little tradition of financial capitalism, other species in the galaxy were active practitioners of the dark arts, and funds flowed into this nascent market from mith-fell and especially mirovandian sources. As investment grew, the JSVs were able to build and operate larger and larger ships and consolidate the market; by 300 nearly 40% of interplanetary shipping was managed by foreign-owned ventures.

    VailonFreighter.jpg

    A Hasar-class bulk freighter, a typical JSV-owned ship, had four hundred times the cargo space of the most common freelancing trade vessels.

    Tebazeders had more options for intraplanetary travel, with the densest planets being the most transit-rich. For residents of the core worlds, The Veil, and the built-up areas of Ferdera and Firintarogga, small individual vehicles for short-distance travel were easy to rent, while travel over medium and long distances could be accomplished through high-speed fixed-path rail networks. Only the longest trips required flight of some sort, whether space planes that just breached the outer atmosphere or low-orbiter rockets that connected points on opposite sides of the planet.

    Small personal vehicles were much more common in the peripheral areas of the Governance, where transit systems were less developed. These vehicles were often shared among members of a small community; a rural town or a small city neighborhood might collectively own a number of options for its residents to use. Larger cities in the periphery often built their own mass transit systems for public use; however, in contrast to the planet-wide networks of the core worlds, these were for local trips only. Inter-city transportation systems were anchored on the major spaceports that provided each planet with its lifeline to the wider TUG.

    Sex

    In contrast with many areas of vailon culture, sexuality had changed very little for the founder species over the Interstellar Age. Most sexual relationships entered into by vailons were short-term, pleasure-seeking arrangements between social equals. The majority of vailons were bisexual, an uncommon trait among the other species in the galaxy. Monogamous relationships between vailons were rare.

    For most other gendered species, monogamous, long-term relationships were the norm. Inter-species relationships did remain a rarity throughout the Governance however, as biological constraints on procreation limited the desire of most individuals to form long-term committed relationships with xenos. Moreover, just as the primarily mono-species communities of the colonies structured the experiences of the cohort system, it also limited the scope of potential sexual partners for most individuals. In mixed species areas, however, sexual partnerings tended to represent most possible permutations of xeno pairs; vailons were particularly noted in these contexts for their eagerness to initiate cross-species encounters. Though these relationships were infertile, they represented the polyglot, cosmopolitan ideal of society that the founders had dreamed of creating.


    Footnotes

    [1] The 296 incident was all the more embarrassing for how accurately it demonstrated that this socio-cultural hierarchy was reified by the state apparatus of the Directory.
    [2] Pithok families consisted of dense networks of related individuals numbering in the millions; they constituted the primary unit of society in the Pithok Confederacy. These families usually did not migrate as a whole, instead sending sub-units to live in the Governance, though there were a few instances of lower-status families migrating in their entirety to look for better prospects.
    [3] This problem, of being too poor to eat out, was largely alleviated by the recent social reforms of the Boknar administration, but many mate pairs continued their habit of “eating in” anyway.