Iteration
The New Universe
Legacy Territory
Inner Boundary
Senur System
Planet Nualia

Something was wrong.

Had been wrong for a while now. Tien'diad had been an astronomer amongst his kind before the Ennedi has came. His homeworld, now scarred and wartorn, had left him bereft and constantly running in fear and terror for his life. Even now though, he did not need any of his old instruments to tell when every single star in the night sky was out of place. The Galaxy's arms were missing. Especially conspicuous was the absence of the Barrier Nebula, a massive cloud of stellar matter that was supposed to be less than three lightyears away from the system, which normally completely eclipsed the skyline every other night. He had not seen it for several cycles now, as if it had just vanished.

Tien'diad was a Domodet - a long serpentine creature, his skin a rubbery white texture when both his scales and fur were retracted. His six powerful limbs and thick body filled with coiled, wiry muscles had been in excellent shape. Running for your life through underbrush and across partially destroyed urban landscapes had a way of doing that, and thankfully food wasn't scarce. Yet. Most of his kind were not aware of the change yet - too busy running and dying from the invaders care. The invaders definitely knew though. Their 'Foreign Integration' centers had been relatively inactive since the change, and the fleet in orbit had suddenly started targeting structures that previously held little to no strategic value - observatories, parabolic receptors and sensor arrays, even stellar-optic panels. All structures capable of identifying specific celestial objects in the sky, if you didn't already know what you were looking at. The Ennedi did not want their victims to know that something was wrong the universe. Probably because they wanted to be perceived as the biggest concern present, vain and self-important creatures that they were. Maybe the Ennedi Legacy no longer existed, wiped away with only the few fleets stationed here over the planet remaining.

Tien'diad flicked at the air with his tongue experimentally as he gazed at the unfamiliar stars, trying to discern any kind of pattern. He did not know much about what was going on these days. But even he knew that the Ennedi were in big trouble now.


Legacy Territory
Outer Boundary
Plasero System
Nemt'urye Gas Giant

"...their movements seem much more cautionary as of late, it is for certain." Adlivun signed, their electroplaques flaring brightly in the otherwise dim confines of the Blendec stealth vessel. "Despite no longer being surrounded on all sides, they act as though they are under siege. Their fleet movements have been few in number, and their watch over their conquered prizes is close."

"Almost as if they are wary of further revolt...Along with the new stars, one might be forgiven for thinking that perhaps some of their forces went missing along with the rest of the universe." Eoanr signed back. The two Blendecs were obese, softly undulating balls of slick membrane, each with four long and slender tendrils supporting their frames - waving, shimmering through the air. "It will not last. For all our pretentions to the contrary, they are a cunning species...cunning and needful. Needful of glory and dominance to revel in, for the short time they have."

"Perhaps...we might waylay them yet?" Adlivun half asked, half suggested. In this new universe, what were the chances that only the Ennedi and their victims had been reduced to the only intelligent life present? If anybody was out there, warning them would be prudent. Especially if they could grant asylum to the survivors.

"No. Not yet." Eoanr signed back, appendages waving lazily and easily - not rushed, but certain and steady. "We would be as alien to them as they would be to us. Even if native to this universe, to them it would be as this entire region appeared as if from the void. They would also be too wary to assist us. No, we shall permit the Ennedi to stir the flames of their passions. Then, perhaps, they might help us. Nothing helps primitive species unite, quite so much as a mutual hatred.

"You imply that we are now a primitive species." Adlivun accused.

Eoanr continued to stare at the viewscreen, filled by the image of their burning homeworld, completely devastated. "Are we not?" He returned mildly.


Legacy Territory
Shen System
Planet Machairodus

"This is a catastrophe." Hokkaido signed. Unlike the Blendecs, the Ennedi lacked electroplaques - their signage was simple and rudimentary gestures executed via their maxillae. The language required large, sweeping and looping gestures in order to be clearly interpreted by weak Ennedi compound eyes. Combined with their massive stature, the process of more than one Ennedi having a conversation entailed motions typically only observed during the demolishing of derelict buildings. "I do not even speak in regard of the issues with the foreign refuse, though that is not good by any means. Arbitrators have reported an increase in overt aberrant behavior. There have been thousands of internal sector conflicts due to uncertainties regarding policy in the wake of the transition. Individuals are becoming distracted by the external universe. Productivity is down across all systems."

"This issue is quite unusual in precedent." Marozi, one of the heads of the Industrial sector signed back. Actual, physical meetings between sector heads was a rare and largely unnecessary practice. Preparing to arraign before the Censors though, now was one of the rare occasions when it saved more time to physically sign to one another than to use the building's coenocyte circuitry. My predecessor made a recorded decision to leave the matter specifically to the Censors on account of not being sure how to proceed.

"Notation from their predecessors indicates the same. A display of confusion." An erratic swiping gesture accompanied by a clipped folding of the proximal maxillae conveyed Hokkaido's disapproval. "The correct procedure would have been to consult with the heads of the other sectors, and yet somehow both sectors independently reached the conclusion that the issue must be left to the censors. I received an inquiry for a rim sample from the Arbitrators in order to prove my lineage was free of defects.

"It seems aberrant that the Censors should have taken so longer to have finished their analysis of the situation..." Marozi signed, their maxillae fluttering faintly with untold accusations. "Though I suppose they might be forgiven for the magnitude of the problem. Have you spoken with Amarok yet?"

"Yes. They agree with the proposed implementations, and implied there has been internal dissent amongst the Armada...I suspect Command Arbitration has been quite busy with wetwork." Hokkaido replied. "We should be able to slip this particular piece past the Censors easily enough. It is a bold, but decisive response. They should only strike it down if there is evidence that the situation is deteriorating, which is unlikely even should the policy not have the intended effect."

"Contingency in all things. We do not know what revisions they will have decided are currently necessary. They may instruct Amarok to initiate a complete, systemic purge for all that we might predict of their decision." Marozi cautioned, a tense curling of their distal maxillae evident.

"While that would be most troubling, I feel even then that this new policy would retain its efficacy. Hokkaido signed in return, even as they lumbered away towards the Censor's rotunda. "Enough speculation. The time has come to declare our greatest victory."

-The Citadel, Luna, Nova System, Noviran Socialist Union-

-April 13, 3413 CE, Four Weeks Ago-

The Citadel is the main government building of the Noviran Socialist Union, located on Luna, the moon of Nova Mondial, the homeworld of three of the Union's races. It was formerly called the Diplomatic Forum, a place where members of all species and nations met to discuss important issues.

Sahria, the premier of the Union, strode out onto the main balcony of the Citadel, her robe flowing behind her. She gazed out across the city of Luna, illuminated by the reflection of the home planet and by its own fabulous lighting of all varieties, skyscrapers almost too high to comprehend, shining with the logos of the various major cooperatives. She sighed and looked down farther, seeing the thirteen magnificent bronze statues that lined the boulevard heading to the Citadel, each depicting a member of all the sentient species, past and present, ever discovered.

"Premier Sahria?" voiced a being behind her.

She turned and examined the other Catopian who had hailed her. Roughly average, gray fur, and green robe denoting a government worker. "Yes, what is it?"

"It is time for the biannual meeting of the Union governments."

"Already?" responded Sahria wearily. "I have enough to deal with as it is. Very well, I will be there in a moment." The assistant nodded, and departed.

With one last glance at the horizon, Sahria turned and walked back inside.

---

"Premier Sahria present." At that announcement, the assembled twelve sentients rose and bowed, before returning to their seats as Sahria gestured.

She glanced around, to examine the leaders of the various governments she represented, but (most) that had little to no power in reality beyond management duties. First, General Secretary Rajos of the Catopian-Greelian People's Republic, the most influential of the leaders assembled. Secondly sat Toka High Prime Torol, of the Tokan Mining Principate. Thirdly, President Carival of the United Provinces, followed by Emperor Zolus of the Nawu'Rawu Empire, and Unconstrained Equilibrium, the leader of the Adanaia Dominions.

She almost missed the Greelian delegation, who had just walked in. Though ostensibly represented by the General Secretary, the Union Treaty had guaranteed them the ability to attend in their own right. Two Organizers had always volunteered to travel to these meetings, not usually the same ones. The Greelians were a peculiar race not least for their autonomous nature, but also due to their unique system of government, the Organizer system. Unlike many of the other races, Greelians seem to have no sense of ambition and so the only people who volunteered to organize things were those with a genuine interest in helping. Sahria had long contemplated the alienness of their demeanor, despite evolving from the same planet.

"Welcome, all of you, to this meeting. While we have been unified for over a hundred years, I believe that this is an important ritual and necessary to the health of our relationships, not just for the purpose of meeting, but for a reminder of the past. I will once again recite the story of our existence, the story at the heart of each of our species, the story that brought together six proud species into one
indivisible nation."

"In the year 2101, war was beginning. After the destruction of the unified Catopian Empire due to the Hive War, the Catopian species, my species, split up into three factions, each believing that their way was correct, and seeking to exterminate the others at whatever cost.

The Catopian-Greelian Republic of Nova Mondial, Catopia and the Firan System, pledging its allegiance to the ideals of truth, democracy, knowledge and free markets. The United Catopian Socialist Planets, unified under the ideals of socialism, communism and equality for all individuals. And the Catopian Empire, stressing the importance of discipline, order, and subservience to the state in a massive political machine. And on that day, their three fleets met, and the world was forever changed. Fleets burned and debris rained from the sky, missiles rained onto the planets, cities were razed, soldiers perished in battle, and worlds burned. The worlds we have cleaned of debris, and now maintain in balance with the environment grew heavy with pollution and destruction. At the same time, plague afflicted the Catopian race. Other nations, other species, chose their sides and fought. The Adanaia and Normans joined the CGR in battle, the Karterieans and Dromo the UCSP. The Catopian Empire fought only with the help of two primitive species they pressed into service, but nearly overpowered the two combined, with the fruit of seven colonized systems. And in the end, with billions murdered already, a desperate nation chose to use their ultimate weapon, an unspeakable terror, and destroyed the planet of Catopia, the capital world, along with the over ten billion people that inhabited it, in one terrible instant."

All of the leaders bowed their heads, as Sahria paused in honor of those lost.

"When the war ended and the dust cleared, no one won. But as we rebuilt our worlds, as we resurrected our civilizations and met once again with new governments and new ideas, we agreed on one thing."

"Never again."

"Never again would our species and nations commit such an atrocity, to destroy an entire world and all its people. From that moment onward, we made that technology forsaken, and agreed to never pursue such a weapon again."

"And in 3277, we finally met to end war between ourselves for good, and we formed the Noviran Socialist Union with that aim. And for one hundred years, we have maintained that peace and prosperity for all our people. We are the Union. We are the Catopians, politicians, farmers, and scientists. We are the Toka, miners, builders, and workers. We are the Dromo, officers, managers, and soldiers. We are the Greelians, thinkers, philosophers, and authors." We are the Karterieans, warriors, special forces, and martial artists. We are the Adanaia, traders, artists, and investors. We are all one.

"And now, we meet today-"

The doors behind Sahria burst open, and a Toka in the blue robes of a scientist flew in, saying, "The stars!"

All of the assembled leaders glanced apprehensively at the new arrival.

"This is extraordinarily important."

"Very well," responded the Premier. "Continue."

"The Toka caught his breath. The entire universe. The entire universe is gone."

The Premier's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Every single star that was at any point in the universe is gone, and they have been replaced with an entirely new universe." The scientific officer pulled out a recording device, and placed it on the table before pressing the play button on the screen.

A hologram rose from the device, showing the orientations of the stars before, and then after a few seconds changed, showing the entirely different (and much sparser) sky as it was now.

"Even more disconcerting is this," continued the Toka scientist. Sahria thought to herself that there could seldom be anything more disconcerting, but was proven wrong a few seconds later.

"Our radio telescopes are now picking up signals that are decidedly not noise." He pressed the play button again.

Distinctly alien speech bubbled from the device, with some measure of static.

"-e have breaking news... the Greater German Reich has announced the formation of a *static*-ession treaty with the Soviet Union, ca...*buzz* Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. Stalin annou... *buzz*"

Shaking her head, the Premier said, "Well, I definitely can't understand that. Do you have any idea what happened, or why we're receiving these signals?"

"My colleagues believe that what has happened is something of a wormhole that happened to occur right on top of us and at around the same dimensions as our local group of stars. We've lost contact with our colonies outside of the Nova stellar cluster, however. I do hope they survived whatever calamity did befall us, but the net effect is that our core systems have emerged virtually into an entirely alien universe, which at the very least appears to have one type of intelligent life. The signal appeared in the middle of the stellar cluster, however, with no apparent origin, so it gives us very little to work with."

Sahria turned to the assembled leaders. "In light of this crisis I believe it may be appropriate to bypass the legislature and declare a state of emergency."

"Agreed." spoke General Secretary Rajos roughly. Until things return to a sense of normality, we must remain firmly cautious and in control."

The vote was held, and when it was finished, it was ten to two, with naturally the Greelians voting against.

---

-Gren, Nova Mondial, Noviran Socialist Union-

-May 10th, 3413 CE-

As Trir drove to work in her hydrogen-powered minivan, she turned on the radio. There was an absurd traffic jam as usual, what with the Wigglyites (and any other nutjob) on every street pronouncing the end of days, and people with their own concocted "supply lists" for people to survive the impending apocalypse, which she honestly couldn't care less about even if it was true. The voice of the announcer spoke out of the speaker, "-ews. We have received a report from the government on Luna that the mysterious reorientation of the stars is in fact an indication of our mysterious placement in a new and alien universe. Contact has entirely been lost with the colony of Fista III in the neighboring Prospero cluster, and a Union-wide day of mourning is declared for their presumed deaths. It is believed-"

Trir turned her radio back off as she got out of her van, and as she filed into her office she was hailed with a flurry of questions from her Dromo and Toka colleagues about what she thought about the news, but she said, "Not now" as she made her way to her seat.

Her coworker turned to her as she sat down. "Did you hear they discovered an alien signal?"

Trir rolled her eyes, and replied, "You know, I don't really care about the stars or the aliens."

"You don't care? Why not?"

"As long as they don't bother us, why should we care?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Well...." he sputtered.

"Personally, I think maybe now that we know there are other threats out in the universe, those bureaucrats might actually get up off their behinds and figure out how to stop it and maybe build a few more fleets to defend ourselves. They want to contact us? Send them a friendly plasma shell. Better yet? Rebuild the Molecular Disruption Devices. See how they like those."

"Trir, you can't possibly mean that," her coworker anxiously said. "After all the trouble that caused us?"

"Of course I do. If the universe needs to know anything, it needs to know this: stay the hell away from us."

-Outskirts of the Neruu System, Noviran Stellar Cluster-

"Lunaris Command, this is Hada-1, reporting in. Hada 2-7 are in formation, standing by."

"Roger, Hada-1. You are cleared for jump. Remember, we're scanning for any trace of alien signals or ships. If there's smoke, there's fire. And good luck."

"Faster-than-light drives engaged," the frigate commander replied. "Will do, Lunaris Command. Appreciate it, I expect we'll need it."

A small blue portal opened up ahead of the seven frigates, and as they disappeared through one thing was clear: a new era had begun. Whether it would be wondrous or terrifying was left merely to the whim of fate.

VRS Roost
Geostationary Orbit above the planet Espion
The Crion System

Captain Virion Folmer-Athobus stood amidst the glowing sphere of digitally displayed space on the bridge of the VRS Roost, his hands at his hips. Slightly above him, the dark, massive, gun-metal fingers of the Extron and Unitis orbital shipyards hung like the great wing of some godlike creature. Silhouetted against the blue and green orb of Espion, the metal and polymer skeletons of the shipyard’s growing progeny were visible in distinct, and awe-inspiring profile. Virion had been stationed in the Crion system most of his naval career, and he had never once seen the shipyards so full and active ever before. It was not a comforting sight.

Peace has lulled us into complacency, Virion could hear the words of his grandfather ringing in his mind. We’re like a fattened couranga; happy and ignorant, just wasting away our days until the butcher’s knife crosses our throat.

Virion thrust the grim old soldier’s prophecy from his mind, though his canine teeth clicked in involuntary dismay as he did. The Glissau Revolution veteran had a flare for the dramatic, and Virion had always listened to his grandfather’s stories and opinions like one might take in good anecdotal fiction. The events of the Quantum Spacetime Anomaly, however, were making Virion think his grandfather was not as far off the mark as one might like.

Things had gone as good as could be expected in the VUR following such a cataclysmic event. The scant four weeks since the QSA had occurred had been tumultuous for the Val, but in a way the event had also given the nation a new, fresh, and urgent focus to rally around. Industry and commerce were shifting with uncertain, but determined vigor to a wartime footing, and military recruitment had soared to such a height that the Senate had not even been forced to call a vote for a draft. All that remained for the government to do now was somehow ensure there were enough tin cans to shove all its new soldiers, marines, and navymen into should war come. That’s where the Extron and Unitis shipyards came in, and it was why Virion was here.

For the past three weeks now, Virion, and the VRS Roost which was his command, had been patrolling from Espion, to the outer reaches of the Crion system. Due to the strategic importance of the shipyards, the majority of the 3rd Fleet had been keeping station immediately around the system capital. That included the Roost’s sister ship, the VRS Obsidian. As ordered by Fleet Command, at least one of the massive battlecruisers had to maintain a guarding position over Espion at all times. The Roost had been selected first to patrol away from the system capital.

The past three weeks had been an unending state of vigilant stress for the crew of the Roost. While no incursions into VUR space had been found, Virion had put his crew through the paces to ensure their readiness. The call for general quarters rang out ship-wide at all hours, and the crew was expected to man their battle stations in exemplary fashion. Drills of every scope and discipline were performed on a near continuous basis, until every navymen and marine operated at an almost autonomous level of proficiency. The Roost itself was as clean and fit for duty as her crew was, as every minor bug and issue was dealt with as if it were the lynchpin to the entire ship’s survival. Virion knew that similar measures were being taken across every ship and unit in the entire VUR navy, and he would be damned before his command would fall short.

Now it was time for a slight relaxation of the routine, however. The Obsidian would be taking over patrol duties for the Roost, and it would afford Virion the opportunity to give his crew a much needed break from the rigorous routine of the past weeks. It would not be much of a break, as the duty to protect Espion and the shipyards was a vital one. But the Roost would be trading its small battlegroup, which had accompanied on the patrol, for the entire remainder of the 3rd Fleet. It was no vacation for his crew, but Virion knew it was better than nothing.

“Good morning, Captain. The Obsidian and her battlegroup have reported that they will be departing shortly.”

Virion blinked out of his reverie, and turned towards the voice behind him. He was greeted by the sleek black-furred face of his Executive Officer, Commander Elasha Anarzee-Thanaris. The younger female Val was holding out a pouch of ketoper in her clawed hand, offering it to him.

“Very good, commander,” Virion said as he took the ketoper pouch, and placed it between the lip and the gums on the right side of his lower jaw. Immediately he could feel the effect of the herb as it awoke his senses, and quickened the beat of his heart. “Glad to see home?”

Elasha nodded before placing a pouch of ketoper inside of her own mouth. She was a native of Espion, and had lived within the Crion system her entire life. “It is,” she said, “though the circumstances of our homecoming could be better.” Elasha scoffed, and her tail swished behind her. “The damn anomaly event. What a clusterfuck.”

Virion’s grey muzzle drew up into a scowl, and he grunted affirmation to his XO’s eloquent assessment.



Naval Deep Space Command Center
Orbital Platform A45-12
Geosynchronous Orbit above the moon Einus
The Qetesh System

Lieutenant Camus Illianaru-Basothius leaned back in his seat, and let out a low breath. His eyes ached from hours of close examination of the digital displays before him, and his tall ears twitched ceaselessly from fatigue. For weeks now, he had analyzed intelligence alerts flagged by satellites, ships, and other data collecting sources from all across the Qetesh system. Most of what the computers deemed important was nothing of the sort, but priorities had changed since the event, and more chaff was getting in with the wheat. Leaning forward, Camus rubbed at his yellow eyes with the backs of his hands—his shift was far from over.

In the collective aftermath of the Quantum Spacetime Anomaly, much of the Valeth Unified Republic had found itself in tumult, at least insofar as normal commerce was concerned. It had not taken long for the galactic trade and freight companies to see that the universe around them was not the same. In fact, civilian sensor arrays had detected the anomaly hours before the navy’s Fleet Intelligence Office had. Knowledge was power, power brought profit, and so it surprised no one in the VUR that the private sector had provided the first threads of intelligence on the Quantum Spacetime Anomaly. Thusly, since the corporations knew first, their shareholders knew soon after. By the time the Fleet Intelligence Office was beginning to wrap its head around what was occurring, the trade commission of the VUR had already halted open stock trading to avoid full collapse. Though not in ruin, the VUR’s economy still had plenty of wreckage to sort through.

The chaos was not all-encompassing, however. Naval satellite PC-Q-155852 had gone about its work, impervious to the far-away toils of its creators. The satellite was in fact a massive sensors array, orbiting lazily around the small ice planet of Caglilia. With its multitude of advanced lenses and antennae, PC-Q-155852 was one of the VUR navy’s premier early warning and detection units. Though it served other scientific functions, its primary mission was the monitoring of deep space beyond the realm of the VUR.

Some two days following the believed zero-hour of the anomalous event, PC-Q-155852 detected spikes in light, spanning the entire spectrum, as well as bursts of radiation and other energetic particulate flows. The satellite’s computer worked as it was designed, and oriented its sensors fully towards the source direction. After several minutes of data collection, and subsequent analysis, the computer decided that what it was looking at was the telltale signature of a new star system. Further analysis as more and more data accumulated led the satellite to conclude that in fact it was looking at a system bearing dual stars.

In just over an hour following its initial sensor detection of the dual star system, PC-Q-155852 sent a tachyon burst transmission with its findings to its handlers at the Naval Deep Space Command Center. With only a mere 0.000065 light-years separating the planet Caglilia from the moon Einus, the FTL message was near instantaneous.

SATDAT-FLASH-DATA
SOURCE: PC-Q-155852
SUMMARY MESSAGE: CELESTIAL BODY DETECTED. LIKELY STAR SYSTEM. BINARY STARS W/SIGNATURES OF a. NUETRON, b. MAIN SEQUENCE-YELLOW DWARF. UNKNOWN ORBITING SATELLITES. COORDINATES AS FOLLOWS…

Fresh, raw data was like water to the Val, and they were drowning in it. Every capable ship, satellite, sensor array, telescope, and spectrometer looked outward from the relatively untouched region of VUR space, searching desperately for any recognizable clues as to just where in the universe they had been transplanted. Coordinates of new, never before seen star systems and celestial anomalies flowed in a steady stream into the VUR’s intelligence and scientific hubs. Amidst it all, the finding of PC-Q-155852 would not have been cause for any special attention or alarm. That is, until the satellite completed a sensor sweep of the new binary star system it had found.

Following the primary sensor detection, and subsequent reporting of that find, PC-Q-155852 received an autonomous and routine order from the computers of Naval Deep Space Command. As it had done for thousands of star systems over the course of its operating life, PC-Q-155852 sent out a powerful burst of precisely distributed tachyon particles. These particles hurtled through the cosmos at incredible speeds, and they crossed the distance of almost 17,000 light-years to their intended target, within roughly two-weeks. Having found their mark, these particles bounced back, carrying their precious data with them. When they returned once more, their trip home taking slightly less time than their first, they delivered their payload of data to PC-Q-155852.

SATDAT-FLASH-DATA
SOURCE: PC-Q-155852
SUMMARY MESSAGE: SECONDARY SWEEP re: STAR SYSTEM #HG-13824132. FURTHER SENSOR DATA YIELDS NINE PRIMARY ORBITING SATELLITES OF PLANET MASS. INITIAL RELATIVE PLANET DATA SUGGESTS THREE WITHIN PHYSICAL PARAMETERS TO HARBOR KNOWN LIFE TYPES.

Camus sat up as his computer display pinged excitedly before him. Lifting his eyes, he glanced to the message from PC-Q-155852. As he read, his ears lifted, and his muzzle drew closer to the screen. Camus read the message again, and yet again. After reading, and double checking the data that had been sent along with the satellite’s message, Camus called for the floor duty officer. As he waited at his desk, a thought passed through his mind.

I wonder if anyone in that system was around to hear that tachyon sensor burst…?

Above planet 3 of 6: Cessia, Cessian System
Shepherd Council Geostationary Satellite: 'Crook', 4:57/31/6/6188

The Arch-Shepherd Maxwell, his tall form obscured by his billowing blue robes of office, sat at the head of a jet-black table, joined by the eleven other figures, each in their robes of office. The room was absolutely silent, not even the familiar roil of machinery disturbing the still room. The Arch-Shephard waited a moment, then another, then finally raised his hand, characteristically pale with the long Cessian fingers adorned with his rings of office. All eyes were already fixed on Maxwell, though the intensity of their gaze increased dramatically as the hand motioned that the meeting was about to begin.

Maxwell spoke in a clear voice, his words filling the room to bursting, returning to the tradition so missed by the assembled councilors.

"The Council of the Shepherd convenes, at the behest of the Arch-Shepherd. All members being present at this sacrosanct convocation, our Council shall begin, to safeguard the Dream of our people from perdition and strife."

As one, the councilors intoned reverently, their response mirroring the council of a thousand years hence.

"We are convened."

The Arch-Shepherd spoke again, the formality dropping away as his speech sped up, the accent and tone shifting from formal grace to pragmatic business. "It has been four weeks since we have been transported. This council has been convened to assess the state of the Ascendancy. Councilors, please, make your reports."

The councilor of agriculture rose first, a tall and gaunt man, his green attire less ostentatious than the Arch-Shepherd but kept even more fastidiously tidy.

"Agricultural output is at normal capacity, Shepherd. The transposition played some havok on our automated systems, but estimates put our production at 102% of mean output, well within standard deviation."

The shepherd nodded, his attention turning to the next seated figure, the Councilor of Maintenance. A similar report was given, that the Dream had not suffered technical failure.

The Councilor of the Dream rose, a particularly ugly woman, her uniform of office doing an admirable, if futile, job of hiding her portly form. She spoke in a high voice, piercing the room like a dagger.

"The Dream itself is reacting well to the change: we have nearly finished feeding memories of the shift into the Cores, only increasing our stockpiles. Estimates for longevity of the new memories are unavailable, but technicians are working on them as we speak. In addition, the Core memory is being expanded in preparation for the new contributions: it should be finished ahead of schedule."

Several more councilors passed without note. Diplomacy, the youngest councilor and newest addition, had nothing to report, neither did Civilian. Industry reported minor disruptions in the asteroid belt causing delays, production forecasted to fall short of the mean, his worries trivialized by the fact there is no-one to trade the goods with.

Exploration spoke next, a well-built man with unusually pale hair, standing somewhat shorter than the other councilors. "I am afraid, Shepherd, that our Exploration fleet has been devastated. Final counts list nearly five twelfths of our fleet has been lost in the jump. If said ships did indeed transpose to our new galaxy, they should be assumed permanently missing. Our shipyards are hard at work rebuilding our numbers, and thankfully only one sixth of our shipbourne personnel were lost. The First Exploration is underway as we speak: every unmanned ship and most Cessian explorers have set off to harvest for the Dream. Broadcasts have been sent out in all directions with rough coordinates and sentience identifiers. The projected income is almost impossible to predict, but it is needless to say that the bounty of information will be unprecedented, even with a crippled fleet. First vessels have already returned, no sentient life encountered but several varieties of fauna have already been discovered, already a bounty for the Dream."

The mood of the room lightened at the news. The weeks had been hard for every Reality-bound Cessian, but the benefits of their situation being so clearly outlined had a visibly positive effect on the assembled leaders. The Defense Councilor spoke next, a tall and attractive woman, a clear contrast to her Dream counterpart.

"The prospects for our defense are mixed. Our fortresses transported without issue, and our fleet did not lose one ship in transit. The issue is, we have no idea the capabilities of our neighbor, whomever they may be. Once our Exploratory Fleet returns to full operational capacity, I propose a radical armament plan, to take advantage of the lack of trade and put our industry to good use."

A few councilors shook their heads. A few nodded. Most stayed silent, looking to their leader for a decision. The Arch-Shepherd spoke after a pregnant pause, once again commanding the full attention of the room. "The matter will be put to vote at the next session: there are other matters to discuss at this juncture".

The Defense Councilor nodded obsequiously and returned to her seat. The rest of the reports passed quickly: Trade was silent, and neither Research nor Development had any news on their projects. An uneventful, but no doubt supremely welcome, council meeting, followed, with small matters being brought up and discussed, small decisions made and tweaks to various systems implemented. Progress was slower than usual, the participants tired and preoccupied with their own tasks, but after four hours the meeting came to a close, and the councilors filed out of the room, the Arch Shepherd left alone at the jet-black table.

Unity Space
Veranus System
Merqar, Planet Class: Foundry

Research Unit #2358, Designator: A64-Lem, scanned the Quantum Iteration Control Structure, dubbed the "God Machine" by many of the biological organisms stationed at Merqar Primus Research Instillation Serven. Unit #2358 did not understand the reasoning behind applying a false name to the QICS, especially one with a religious context for the biological organisms, nor was #2358 meant to understand at any point in its 534.928375 Merqarian stellar revolutions of existence. Provided with a relatively complex computational core upon its creation, none of #2358's programming dealt with matters of interpretation and understanding of biological structures and interactions between such organisms. Other units were built for that purpose and so it should be.

Photons flitted in and out of existence, carried by and carrying small quantum structures in and out of folds within the fabric of reality, streaming through contorted regions of time and space, or outside of this dimension entirely, to reappear at a seemingly random location within the massive construct, influenced by the positioning of the other particles within the construct and filaments of contained dark matter and energy. Millions of such transportations occurred every minute, placing individual sub-atomic structures into self-determined positions according to the influence which other particles, both real and "virtual", effected upon that certain structure.

All pieces would eventually fall into place, a lattice of particles and energy, real and unreal, large and small, perfectly balanced among each other to the extent that any manipulations would simply cause a rearrangement. Yet this project was not the charge of unit #2358 but of more advanced Drone constructs and several biological organisms, equipped with much more highly developed processing mechanisms. #2358 simply acted as one of the care takers of the facility within which it resided, normally conducting automated scans from the central terminals, yet protocol demanded physical scans by a autonomous construct at certain intervals. Within minutes of the massive change in the universe, the QCIS had apparently restructured itself, adopting a new configuration which had not previously been recorded. Whether or not the shift marked a set-back or improvement would remain unclear to 2358 for the analysis of the ramifications of the universal shift was not Unit #2358's place and so it should be

Sensors within the construct's body detected a change in the noise level coming from behind it, a near undetectable difference but for the finely attuned sensors of the robot. Turning slowly, having been instructed that biological organisms were normally startled or at least disliked the rapid turning which a Drone construct could accomplish and recognizing the approaching being as one, #2358 felt a concussive force blast against the side plating of its torso, breaching several layers of metal and damaging approximately 39% of the wiring in the localized impact area. Thrown to the ground, several more shots peppered the floor around it, two more striking the Drone directly, blowing off yet more pieces of its body.

Rotating its "head" as far as it could, it perceived two biological organisms, self-termed Sakari, with weapons of a military design stalking towards it. Activating a distress beacon, it began to relay the appropriate message of pacification, instructing the two to lay down their weapons and await the arrival of authorities. The message never completed as another shot took the robot, reducing the construct to a husk of metal and wires, areas vaporized by antimatter-matter reactions.

The two Sakari quickly stowed their weapons on their backs before moving to the construct, setting to work with plasma cutters and opening the body, removing the CPU of the Drone along with its memory banks. Claxons began sounding in the distance, warning the two assailants of the incoming security units. Finishing the removal of the important computer components, one set a molecular destabilization charge on the body while another hacked open a nearby door. Opening, the door revealed three more Sakari and a Grecian standing outside, all armed with civilian-grade weapons.

"Did you retrieve the necessary components?" produced the Grecian's voice synthesizer, transforming its pheremonaly-based and chittering language into a sound recognizable by the Sakari. A massive being at three and and a half meters tall and 600kg, the Grecian combat form exhibited an intelligence uncharacteristic of its type.

Stuffing the CPU into a bag, one of the Sakari nodded while the other continued to access the facility's security systems, attempting to wipe any traces of the group's presence. Giving a brief glance upon completion, she stepped up to the hard-light reinforced walls. She counted slowly, "Three. Two. O-." The energy shorted out temporarily as an explosion shook an area of the facility, causing the outer hard-light center between the inner and outer wall frames to blink away momentarily. Stepping backwards as a group, the six ducked as a molecular destablization charge blasted open the wall, creating a hole through which waited a Grecian and a Sakari, both dressed in pilot's clothing.

Rushing through, the eight ducked into a nearby shuttle, taking off and zooming towards space along with five other decoy transports, three military star fighters flitting through the air below them. Before hitting the outer atmosphere, lances burned upwards through the sky, obliterating two transport vessels and two fighters as the survivors engaged a Non-Baryonic Field Emitter. One more transport fell away, incinerated by defense batteries. In another moment, the four remaining vessels disappeared into the void of space.

Back on Merqar's surface, Alvuban Hator, Officialay Ultima of the Veranus System, gazed towards the battered facility, a line of smoke rising in the distance where explosives had ravaged the Predation Generators for this sector of the planet. A small smile graced his lips, and he turned back into his office, ceremonial cloak whirling around him.

"And so it begins," he said aloud, an age old statement yet still a true one. In the corner, a shadow stirred and barked a short laugh. So it did.

---

Unity Space
Marukesh System
Sarok, Planet Class: Capital Ultima

Packets of information streamed outwards from and inwards to Sarok, bursts of communication both conventional and esoteric in nature. EM signals mingled with the vibrations of quantum particles, the familiar crowded communications traffic of the home system of an interstellar nation apparent to any who would check. Yet a surge of conversation sparked through the system this cycle, urgent yet relaxed, demanding the attention of those intended to receive the messages.

Inside the Center Complex of Unity and Deliberation, the Council i Madh sat in session-it would take a fool to discount a majority of the councilors unconsciousness for anything other than suspicious however. Only the two representatives from the Drone Complex and the three oldest councilors, two Sakari of the government and a Grecian from Etharius, remained active. Connected to an electrical impulse system to allow quick and easy communication between all the species, the Drones pressed their suggestions upon these councilors while rewriting the memories of the other council members, avoiding any future questioning from the non-participatory biological organisms.

The attack on Merqar Primus Research Instillation Serven indicates a laxing in the safety protocols established by the Council i Madh under our advice, established specifically so that events such as these would never occur. Yet it seems that not only were unauthorized personnel able to access both the research instillation and the center of the Dimensional Predation Generator facility, but said radicals equipped themselves with military equipment. You proffered assurances to the Drone Complex that any biological supremacists would be properly controlled, sent the Drone representatives, officially named the Advisory Mission to the Council i Madh of the Unity of C'ran. Both normally acted in tandem-rare was the occasion when the logic systems of the two would disagree on any matter but this was not such an occasion. Physically passive, the three Councilors were aware of their vulnerability in this situation should the Drones decide to dispose of them. Yet for all their fears, they knew that such an action would inspire great anti-Drone sentiment and so the Councilors remained a little secure.

Fidgeting, the female Sakari councilor, Asrra Mervyj, shifted her indigo synthetic robes around her while consulting psychically with her male companion, Yuraz Beca. Nodding hesitantly, Yuraz channeled part of his psyche through an amplifier, creating a stiffening of the air around the three Councilors.

You play a dangerous game, Councilor Mervyj. If word of your actions escaped to any not aligned with you, if the Drones acquired even an inkling of your involvement in the events of this past week, then we would be obliged to hand you over. I ask that you temper yourself before you bring war or revolution upon the Unity. Such is against all that we stand for. Why do you trust me with your secret, if such a term can be applied to this debacle, Yuraz thought to Asrra, utilizing the accusatory speech form, one of the several speech forms utilized by Sakari, adding a greater depth to conversation.

Because you hold the most influence among the Council, because I must have an ally among us. Surely you do not think of betraying me, Councilor Beca? One of your own Guild blood? Asrra sent back, utilizing the basic and questioning form in equal parts throughout the exchange. A glare hardened on Yuraz's face, boring into Asrra before he returned his attention to the Mission Drones.

Measures will be taken, Representative Complex. You must understand the need for discretion in these investigations, lest your 'radicals' discover our tracking them. Yet we must settle a different matter before anything else. Near one hundred and thirty five cycles have passed since the inception of this new...universe, for lack of better terms. The possibility of encountering other intelligent civilizations must not be discounted, and preliminary scans within a three jump radius must be conducted, deep scans extending further if possible. I-

One of the Drones raised a hand, utilizing physical motions rather than the electrical impulse network to halt Yuraz's speech. Such strange machines, wondered Asrra, running her eyes once again over their metal frames. Lowering their hands, they spoke: Such considerations have already been passed through the Complex several times, Councilor Beca. Actions have already been taken in this regard. Scouting ships journey within a ten-thousand light year radius already, and meta-fabric tachyon burst probes have already been deployed to strategic areas within thirty-five thousand light years, two within the nearby worm hole. Leave the matters to us. Turning in unison, the two strode into a small pod situated within the corner of the room before disappearing in a flash, appearing to fold into the center of the air.

Sighing, the Grecian Councilor clacked its mandibles before uttering one short sentence, "May the Vateral shelter us from the coming storm."

An Unnamed Asteroid Orbiting "Star One"

The nanomachine swarm of the All-Mother flowed rhythmically as she watched her Arms work. They were beyond numerous at this point, and of many designs; asteroid miners, material transporters, metal smiths, reproductive units, and directors to name a few. Her people, four weeks ago, could be counted as having a single member, and now, there were over a million.

Every day, they harvested more elements from the asteroid belt, converted those resources into usable metals and alloys, and constructed new Arms. Every day, their growth accelerated exponentially. But every day, the All-Mother could not help but look up at the stars and witness the signs of other lifeforms out there, emitting their signals.

Each had its own strength and approximate distance, though the mixing of these signals made it difficult for the All-Mother to decipher their meaning. But it was clear to her that they were out there considering the complexity of the signals.

One of the Arms closest to her intelligence reported to her at the speed of light, from across the star system, hovering safely above the star itself, "All-Mother, work is almost complete. The Flare is almost ready. The time is upon us."

Her reply was simple, "Understood. Proceed," though her thoughts were far from it. The Flare was a one-shot device she had envisioned, constructed not far from Star One's corona in astrological terms, designed to capture a portion of the energy from a predicted stellar flare from the celestial body. Though it would eventually be annihilated by that same flare, in a short period of time, the Flare would convert this enormous swath of power into a massive FTL signal designed to pummel its way through this universe.

Having considered that no other race would likely begin to understand their way of communicating, the All-Mother had decided its message would be simple. One beep followed by silence, then two beeps and silence, then four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, and finally, sixty-four beeps all with silence interspersed between them. All of this would occur within the span of a second, the amount of time the Flare would survive the damage from the star. It was the All-Mother's hope that the clear mathematical powers of two embedded in the message would draw attention from other intelligent species.

Within an hour, work was completed, the Flare evacuated. Star One raged against the sky as predicted, assaulting the construction with an enormous fury, fury that was transmitted to all who would listen until the orbiting structure was obliterated moments later. For the All-Mother, it was her declaration to the Void, "I am here."

Jan'Ha Bib City, Hal'Ak Ir, Rik'R System: The New Universe

Amongst the skyscrapers of Jan'Habib City, flew a nondescript AirMobile, a dull black covered it's seemingly simple steel frame. It was amongst the various AirMobile's in the city, zipping around. To the casual observer, it would seem that the car wasn't special. It seemed to have been made by a common AirMobile company with no real talents in the industry. None would guess that it was carrying the most important man on the planet.

Planetary Governor Alice Von Schulz sat comfortably in a model class A-52 Armoured AirVehicle. With powerful antigravity emitters, 4 inch thick bulletproof windows and incredibly resilient frame. It was designed to withstand full automatic fire from a Rik'R pattern Standard Heavy Ballistic Four Barrelled Weapon, a powerful LMG designed by the Scientists of Rik'R itself. The A-52 was headed for the Capital building, where a meeting of the highest leaders of the Democracies including the President will be discussing.

Alice pondered on the possibilities coming from one such meeting. 'An invasion perhaps? I have heard rumours of some of the outposts turning offline. I wonder....' Of course, the Governor was right on the outposts but not in the way she thinks. She is pulled from her thoughts as the A-52 pulls over, the antigravity emitter letting out a small indiscernible mechanical whine. Her personal Krieg bodyguard (and secret lover) tapped her on the shoulder, giving her a small smile before signalling towards the door.

The Governor licked her lips, and then do something some would say was very inappropriate for a Planetary Governor to do in an armoured AirMobile just outside the Capitol building. After around two minutes of making out (and only making out!), the azure skinned Tayt exited with bodyguard in tow.

When she arrived into her office, Alice left her bodyguard at the door before entering. It was a simple oval room, decorated with a few couches and a plant. For the office of one of the most powerful Planetary Governors, it was pretty pathetic. The only special thing about the room was the holographic communicator in the middle of the room. Of course, this particular governor scarcely used this room for anything. She sat on one of the couches before turning the communicator on.

The room darkened and 18 other holographic figures appeared, circling Alice. Each one she recognised as one of the Planetary Governors. She nodded in greeting and relaxed into the soft clutches of the couch. There was a flash of light before the flag of the Democracies appeared in the middle of the circle, silently informing them about the arrival of the President.

For the leader of a Nation of the Stars, President Jo'Un Tak'Ly Ra was a humble Tar'Lik of humble beginnings. There was nothing special in his background, born to a baker and a father captain that he rarely saw. He grew up in Jan'Ha Bib and went to some boring old schools. Until he reached his political career. He was charming, with a good attitude and a love of the people. Many flocked to him and supported him for President. His assistants, Baron Admiral-General Herr Adam Von Zimmerman the III and Admiral Lucy Ta'Ni Ruk.

Jo'Un appeared in the middle, the quad legged leader stood on his hind legs, towering over all except for his fellow Tar'Lik. Dressed with a fine cloak, the shaggy 9 foot Jo'Un addressed the room. "My fellow countrymen, I have grave news. We are no longer where we were before." The room was immediately filled with shouts and questions. The President raised his paw, silencing the room. "We have been transported from our original galaxy to this new one. We speculate this may be because of a False Vacuum emitted by the nearby cluster. The entirety of our civilisation and presumably many other civilisations have been transported to this new universe. What I have told you today will not leave this room under any circumstances."

Everyone was stunned. This was vital news! After a few seconds of silence, someone spoke up. The Governor of Mez'Du, a Krieg in typical combat gear and a long cloak. "What is being done with the situation?"

"I have sent out six fleets comprised of one Carrier, one Dreadnougth, three Cruisers, three Heavy Frigates, five Patrol Frigates and eight Light Frigates. They will be Flingshotting to where the supposed outposts are supposed to be. They are currently offline and we will be checking on their status. The admirals have been informed of the situation while the captains are told that it is just a routine check."

"Because of my schedule, I must leave now. I repeat, none of this information will leave this room. It is code black, I repeat, code black." The President left the projector, leaving the Planetary Governors speechless.

Unknown Space
Valara
Valar Major
Hirathaxis
The Aquamarine Senate

In the Valaran capital of Hirathaxis, it seemed as if the Senate was - for the first time in over three thousand years of existing - unsure of its own future and that of the Empire. The shimmering chamber, so named because of its construction from the shining Kirathani stone mined from the eponymous asteroid belt that ringed Valar Major, was in a state of disarray as various senators spoke over each other, argued, and - in a few scattered cases - panicked. The administrative body of the Empire had been in session since the first reports had come from the furthest reaches of the Empire of what was being dubbed 'The Great Happening', and senators had drifted in and out as the sky outside seemed to cycle rapidly between light and dark.

Outside, Valar Major seemed to operate as normal. Truth be told, the centre of the Valaran Empire was populated mostly by the elite of the Valaran race, many of whom had been totally lost for centuries for what sardonically called 'philosophising' by the industriously minded Kirr in an echo of what many of the leading Valaran aristocrats gave as their occupation on official census forms; essentially, they had become hedonists, content to try the newest pleasurable substances synthesised by the lizardmen and behave irresponsibly within the confines of their sprawling palatial pleasure yachts and homes. Hirathaxis, by contrast, eschewed the fountains of wine and the sprawling orgy-houses in favour of necessary but reluctant governmental and administrative efficiency.

The Senate House itself was an unspectacular building by Valaran standards, attached by an elevated bridge to the Imperial Palace that dwarfed it. The aquamarine, octagonal building, in truth, seemed more of an afterthought than an intentional part of the otherwise meticulously planned city, and that was true; it had been built in the wake of the formation of the Valaran Empire, while the rest of the city had been designed during the heyday of the Valaran independent Kingdom.

Inside, a particularly rotund Valaran was speaking at some speed. As he spoke, his language - in the clicks and whistles of the Valaran tongue - was translated at speed into both the hissing, guttural language of the Kirr and the chattering, quick language of the Draxakori'i. This was broadcast automatically into the minds of all of the senators by way of a small cybernetic implant in the side of the head:

"We have intelligence of the Red Dawn Cult operating at three times its original number since The Great Happening - some thirty million members are now said to exist among the Valaran race, all of whom are calling for the dissolution of the Empire and the death of the Emperor. They are a dangerous threat to the stability of the Empire--" He was suddenly interrupted by a Kirr female, dressed in the austere black jumpsuit that nearly all of her race seemed to favour.

"With due respect, Senator, that is an issue of Valaran rather than senatorial importance. You must deal with your own issues on a domestic level. There is nothing my people can do," She said condescendingly, to a chorus of hissing approval from her fellow Kirr and a few tentative hoof stomps from the Draxakori'i in the chamber.

The Valaran retorted quickly, his purple skin blushing to a magenta. "This issue will become of imperial importance when the Empire is threatened in all its facets. These may be Valaran religious terrorists, but they threaten the entire Empire's stability if their poisonous ideology is allowed to spread much further,"

It was the turn of the Valaran to sound their approval. They did so by simply clapping their hands together three times.
Another Kirr senator spoke now, an elderly male whose scales had begun to blacken with age. "Very well. We must advise the Minister for Domestic Security to act in a satisfactory manner to stop the spread of this poisonous ideology," He said sagely, nodding conclusively. There was unanimous agreement now. Deferring matters either to devolution or to a ministerial capacity was the senate's preferred method of doing as little work as possible.

***

Unknown Space
Valara
Valar Major
Hirathaxis
Imperial Palace

Emperor Kirathaxx XX was looking extraordinarily aged all of a sudden. At a hundred and eighty three, he was of an advanced age, and it seemed 'The Happening' had aged him further. His skin was a pallid violet, and it seemed as if there was a cloudiness or a confusion in his eyes as of late. Rumours abounded that he had fallen ill - others still, in the distant corners of the Empire, where news had spread slowly of The Great Happening, whispered that he had been murdered in the chaos. To the Minister for Scientific Development, Salassaia Thak A'Kira-Ak-Tarani, one of the brightest minds in Kirr-Space, he merely seemed weary. The Emperor had summoned her after what he had said was a particularly arduous meeting of the Valaran Verdant Council; the Kirr female suspected the scions of the great houses of the Valaran nobility were in much more disarray than the elites of their the Kirr or the Draxakori'i. After all, the Valaran had been happy with blessed, opulent, stagnation, and the Great Happening had shaken their once uncontroversial religion to demanding an end to the hierarchy with seemed to govern every aspect of Valaran behaviour.

Like anyone in imperial governmental service, Salassaia was equipped with a three-way translator. For his part - in order to avoid the indignity of cybernetic implantation - the Emperor held a small translator in his hand that spoke the female's words to him immediately following anything that she said.

"As I understand it, minister... we are unsure as to the root of this... event," The Emperor's words were relayed with pauses.
The minister nodded for a moment. "Your Imperial Greatness," She began with learned deference. "Kirr research stations indicate that nothing within the confines of the Empire has changed. Agricultural production remains stable, as do internal defence systems and other such technologies. We theorise that the whole Empire was - coincidentally - transported to some distant corner of the universe by some phenomena such as a large wormhole or other such occurrence," It was, truly, a roundabout way of saying that in Kirr space researchers were working with great haste to find out anything at all about the mysterious circumstances of the Happening.

"I see," The Emperor spoke after a moment. Salassaia had a sneaking suspicion that he did not, in fact, see, but said nothing. "We must map out the territory around us," He said tiredly.

"Yes, Greatness, ships from the various megacorporations are already making small excursions into the nearby space in order to see if any other sentient species survived the Happening. We are confident that the chaotic state of this part of the universe suggests the present of various rare or perhaps as of yet undiscovered minerals," The minister said, a touch of excitement creeping into her voice. It truly was a new opportunity to make a lot of credits. The Emperor seemed to register this and frowned slightly.

"The Drax are surprisingly quiet on this," He concluded carefully, then waved for Salassaia to leave, which she did immediately. It was never a good idea to try the patience of the Emperor and, besides, it seemed as if the wizened ruler needed a rest...

As she retreated from the chamber, the Minister retrieved her an ovular communication device from the pocket of jumpsuit. Tapping it with a scaled finger, a holoscreen popped up, showing the current stocks in Kirr space. They were flashing wildly. Unbeknownst to the Empire at large, Kirr space was engulfed in a trade civil war as the megacorporations wrestled for Imperial contracts to mount expeditions into the new space. One of them, InterGlex Corp, had constructed within a matter of days a huge dish that sent our periodic, powerful pulses in an attempt to find a response from any other sentient life, a decision that had been critiqued endlessly by various others as reckless and dangerous. Salassaia sighed, replacing the device in her jumpsuit, and stepped out of the Palace's throne room into one of the imperious atriums that composed the bulk of its interior, where members of the Valaran high aristocracy stood around in their variously ridiculous gem-studded multi-coloured robes, all of them chattering excitedly. The Kirr shuddered with distaste.

***

Unknown Space
Kirra III
GloboHantex Headquarters
Somewhere over Narax

The GloboHantex headquarters was, essentially, a mobile skyscraper - it was the administrative centre of an interstellar company, and so it only made perfect sense for the headquarters to be mobile enough to keep a true eye on mining operations, terraforming and ship production in person. Within, it was a flurry of activity as various members of the conglomerate hurried back and forth excitedly.
The Great Happening had affected the Kirr more than they would care to admit to either of their co-races in the Empire; for several hours, nearly all of Kirr space had went dark as an unknown pulse of activity knocked out nearly all communication and technology throughout the four systems that they called home. Even the great floating conglomerates had been reduced to hunks of metal as Kirr engineers had laboured to restore energy on a huge, uncoordinated scale. For a few moments - though many Kirr would be loathe to admit it - it had felt like a whole species had been plunged back into a day before even the most basic of technologies. Precisely why neither the Valar or the Draxakori'i were reporting any similar phenomena was a mystery.

The board room of the GloboHantex Conglomerate was housed at the top of the ship, with huge, multi-panel glass windows looking out into space. Today, the view was Narax, the gas giant that seemed to dominate the Kirra III system. Visible too was its moon Dasris, notable for the lush and impenetrable jungle that dominated its ecosystem. Various colonial efforts had been attempted there in the past, all of which had failed - whole expeditions disappearing into the dark canopies of the jungle, and after preliminary sub-atmospheric testing had revealed that the moon held no rare minerals and an abundance of snakes of up to 50 feet of size, only the occasional prospector made their way to its surface (the snakes themselves being an expensive addition to any Valaran menagerie).

Within the confines of the board room, the CEO of GloboHantex was joined by his various representatives and departmental heads, many of them appearing via hologram as they attended to business in various other sectors. Salashis J'Kara-Ni-Quifarra was one of the most influential beings in Kirr space, but the lizard-man wore the same indistinct black jumpsuit as nearly all other members of his race, and was of middling height and middling age. He was, in short, physically indistinct, but had a interstellar reputation for brutality and financial genius.

He was speaking, at some length, to his subordinates: "..there will be disruption amongst the various institutes of learning around the Empire. They will have to learn astronomy from scratch, essentially, and there will be considerable profit to be made in the production of learning aids and other such goods - including, of course, scientific instruments. We must dominate this market. Which of our subsidiaries can prove useful in this regard?" He directed the question at a holographic man to his left, the company's Director of Internal Management. There was a brief pause.

"...NovoAid Incorporated...Myriad Limited...YanTek-Harman... they all possess long standing contracts with the Valaran universities," Came the eventual reply. "We will work on renewing them and potentially increasing their worth in the wake of this event,"

'The event' Salashis thought to himself. It was always 'the event'. While the Valarans panicked and the Drax meditated, the Kirr had sprung into mediate action in attempting to find profit in what could have been the end of all existence. It truly was admirable. "Very well," The CEO said with a nod. "As for exploration? There could be new deposits of material available. Research tells us that the composition of this area is much different to that of what we knew before. Could it be that rare materials are in abundance here?"

One of the other Kirr physically present in the room piped up, a surprisingly thin Kirr female who served as the Director for Scientific Development. "Yes, sir, that is potentially correct. It is also worth noting that certain previously abundant materials may have suddenly become scarce-" This was met with various murmurs of excitement around the table. "-and we may have the opportunity to artificially inflate that scarcity, should profits falter in the wake of trade disruption," She finished with a satisfied smile.

The CEO smiled, revealing rows of sharpened teeth. He flicked his tongue out of his mouth pensively. This could turn out very good for business indeed.

The sound of a hand slamming down on a table resonated throughout the (rather empty) bridge of the SS Vēṭikana, an Orenjiran-designed starship named after the famous Morii flagship that served in the war. In fact, the vessel was actually custom-built to the original plans of the Vēṭikana, something oddly common among sport vessels from the Eight World's Empire. One would expect that the leaders of the war against the Morii would tend to shy away from their designs, but most of the teams that utilized Morii designs came from Abh space.

"MIDWAY!" Yelled Ikuza, an Abh. He was wearing a disturbingly accurate replica of a Morii Empire Navy uniform. The illustration of the wartime Morii Princess Chirana on the card that he had just slammed onto the table, however, was most certainly not wearing an accurate replica of a Morii Empire Navy uniform.

"Chirana?" Said Tomred, a Carina, reading the stats listed on the card "Why are we even playing with her in the deck? Everyone knows that she's a complete game-breaker."

"That's nothing compared to Kamikaze!" Yelled a Murtaden named Kamil, who then held up a card showing a cartoonish rendition of the warship Kamikaze's AI body, which used the ship's two warp rings as an excuse to keep the game legal on Al-Walam. "It would take ten Si'ēnā cards to even have a chance!"

"You had Kamikaze?" Said Atnana, whose tattoos identified him as a 'Free Morii', unbound by their caste system or social code. "Why the hell didn't you play her?! It's the Battle of Midway Belt, dammit! How can you not play Kamikaze?"

"I was going to, but then Ikuza went and slammed down Chirana." Responded Kamil, arranging his cards into a neat stack and placing it in the center of the table. "Why didn't Tomred or I get the Morii, anyways? We were battle thralls at Midway, after all."

Atnana opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sudden appearance of the ship's AI in the middle of the table. It was modeled after

"The realspace drones have intercepted a transmission." Said the holographic body of the ship's AI "It appears to be the mathematical powers of two."

Everyone suddenly forgot about the card game, and quickly stood up from their chairs. A quick nod from Ikuza told everyone what they had to do, and the four others rushed to their stations on the rather small bridge (Automation had long since removed the need for a large bridge crew).

"Not the Primes or the Lasis Sequence?" He said, putting his hand up to his chin "One would expect a species with radio technology would also be aware of basic mathematics. No matter, where is the source?"

"A star system approximately twenty light years from here. I already cut the engines."

"Good, take us in and drop out of FTL."

Mere minutes later, the viewscreens on the bridge reactivated and displayed the vast expanse of space before them. The immense speeds offered by the FTL drive allowed them to cross the almost unthinkably large distance in a matter of minutes, something their distant ancestors couldn't have even dreamed of. Ikuza sat down in the captain's chair in the center of the bridge, interfacing with the ship.

The prime numbers up to one-hundred were immediately transmitted throughout the system, as well as the powers of three up to a hundred. This was the first time in countless millions of years that anyone had directly contacted another species, and after the cataclysm that took their only other chance from them, everyone was on the edge of their seat. Unfortunately, everyone knew that there wasn't going to be a conversation. Being ships built for sport, no starship aside from the preserved Imperial warships had a translator. They'd have to wait for official ships, and of course, the government would probably rather not have a high-school sports team speak for them.

Even so, Izuka ordered another message to be sent. It was unlikely that the aliens had their own translators (after all, Imperial translators were all just copies of software found in the Kamikaze's databanks), but there wasn't any reason not to see if they did.

"This is the captain of the SS Vēṭikana, we've picked up your transmission. You're not alone."

An unnamed asteroid orbiting "Star One"

The All-Mother was quietly watching Her Arms work the asteroids after the Flare had done its job. Surprisingly, She heard the mathematical call of another being after a surprisingly short amount of time. Moreover, they were actually present in the system already, Interesting, they can move that fast? Or were they already present nearby? Does that mean they have been watching? She mentally turned her "eyes" towards the origin of these new signals, as she finally listened to the interesting message that was distinctly not mathematical. Analyzing it with Her absurd processing capacity, the All-Mother mentally sighed, I need them to communicate more. Still, I think I get the gist of this.

She called out across the void to the ship, basically replaying the audio of their own transmission, "We've picked up your transmission. You're not alone."

To the crew of the SS Vēṭikana, this could potentially seem unnatural, particularly because the star system they'd arrived in contained nothing but millions or even billions of asteroids all orbiting an aged white dwarf.

VRS Venture Star
Underway ≈10,000 LY beyond VUR controlled space

It was an exciting time to be a Val. For the first time in over a century the species was expanding beyond its borders, and venturing forth into the great unknown. That the universe beyond was even more wild and uncertain than in all of recorded history, made the occasion even more momentous.

Captain Selussa Esta-Athobus lay in her berth, quietly contemplating the import of her species’ undertaking, and the role in which she was playing. It was yet difficult for her to comprehend just how much had changed in the six weeks since the Quantum Spacetime Anomaly had transplanted her entire nation into the frontier of the true vacuum. She had gone from being a decorated, ambitious, and talented naval officer of the venerated 4th Fleet, to being granted command of a brand new destroyer as a part of the equally contemporary 5th Fleet.

While having been under development for several years, the 5th Fleet expansion had been rushed to fruition in the aftermath of the QSA, and the VUR’s new focus of establishing a more secure military force. Where the other naval fleets were tasked solely with the defense of their specific systems and sectors, the 5th Fleet was a new animal altogether, bearing the distinction of operating beyond the established boundaries of the VUR, and setting the first building blocks for secure galactic expansion.

Selussa, and her ship, the destroyer VRS Venture Star, were leading the 5th Fleet’s first foray into this bold, new purpose. A small taskforce of thirty-six ships had departed from the Qetesh System just over seven days ago, hurtling through space towards the expanding remnant of a supernova some 46,000 LY beyond the VUR. The fleet itself was mainly comprised of specialized research vessels from various space mining companies, intent on being the first to claim the prized resources yet held within the supernova remnant’s rich womb.

The VUR navy had almost been left out of the expedition entirely. So fervent was the intent of the mining corporations to explore this new find, that they announced that if the navy was not prepared to escort them at the time of their set departure, that they would forego official support in the name of expediency. The politics of the matter, however, demanded that the navy have some presence within a mission of such momentous import. As such, those in the upper echelons of government had made it so, heedless of the more conservative thinkers in the naval high command.

As a result, Selussa and her compatriots of the 5th Fleet, made up only three ships within the taskforce: the destroyer Venture Star, and the frigates White Knife, and Altos. While these new, and state-of-the-art warships, represented a formidable threat, the rush to get the ships prepared to escort the taskforce had made it impossible for the government to outfit the naval contingent with more support vessels. So, while the 5th Fleet had the esteem of being the first military body of the VUR to venture beyond its established borders, it also had the heavy responsibility of tending to its flock with little more than an honor guard.

Captain Selussa checked her chrono. It was still another hour before she was to take her watch on the bridge. Sighing, she lay her silver-furred head back onto the pillow. Sleep had eluded her for most of the voyage, and she knew it was a useless proposition now. Three more weeks of travel at FTL speeds until they reached the supernova remnant, and the captain knew it would take longer than that to find restful sleep once again.

Legacy Territory
Inner Boundary
Senur System
Planet Nualia

Marozi and Hokkaido entered the darkened rotunda by themselves. The Legacy was restless and the other heads were actually busy running their sectors, while all but one of the Command heads were absent from the Senur system. The actual practice of the sector heads communing with the Censors within the Straylight Rotunda was a strategic, traditional practice. For the Ennedi, whose lives were measured in a matter of only one point three million moments, the practice of physically traveling to the site to meet the Censors in person represented an enormous investiture. For many Ennedi, visiting the Rotunda was their final, dying act. The practice was enforced in order to serve as a Momentary mark of importance; to signify what crises had been most serious in gravity within the annuals of history. Unofficially, the practice also served to remind the sector heads that the Legacy of the Ennedi species had no masters.

The interior of the Rotunda was a darkened chamber with walls of tiled ammolite; carved channels carrying streams of vaporized mercury carrying a light charge to produce spectacularly illuminated, multicolored murals. The imagery was highly compact and detailed, small and nearly indistinguishable amongst the myriad of similar images surrounding it - the Ennedi compound eye, being near-sighted and detail oriented, made better sense of highly clustered and compact visual stimuli than more conventionally impressive overarching murals. In the center of the chamber three Glutted Ennedi, their bodies partially petrified from inactivity, lay locked into structural circuit-chambers of a similar nature to those used by starship pilots. The three Censors had never once left this chamber, and neither had many generations of their predecessors - each lineage of Censors native to the Rotunda emerged and died in almost exactly the same spot, all glutting within less than one-hundred and thirty-thousand moments. With their open media hardwired into the coenocyte circuit-based matrix that formed the worldwide information grid, the Censors were as close to being omniscient as was possible without existing as Quantum A.I.

Their state of being rendered their already analytically-prone Ennedi psychology highly mechanical in nature. Savants formed of living stone, the Censors occupied an almost reverent position within Ennedi culture - they were everywhere, always watching, always gathering data and analyzing society as a whole. The guardians of the Ennedi Legacy, preserving what was proper and efficient, identifying and mandating the removal of any source of conflict.

The moment would have been much more humbling had one of the Censors not been dead by the time Marozi and and Hokkaido reached the edge of their pit. A tell-tale line of dissolved tissue along their anterior ridge told that the Censor had died of senescence at least a hundred-thousand moments prior. The remaining two Censors, unmoving and uncaring of the absence of one of their number (they would be replaced in time), engaged the two sector heads without any ceremony. An unseen holographic generator began to project Ennedi signage into the air above the pit, conveying the words of the circuit-bound overseers.

~Analysis of the anomalous displacement of the Legacy has returned no extant data beyond the Outer Rim. Sensor data reveals multiple faster-than-light nucleating wavefronts of birefringent spacetime which eclipse the totality of the Legacy in effect of zero elapsed moments. Determination of anomaly as naturally occurring ecological/ontological catastrophe. Disconnected Legacy naval forces determined to be displaced within new spacetime region at random relative coordinates and thereby irrelevant. Disconnected indigent forces determined to be displaced within new spacetime region at random relative coordinates and thereby irrelevant. Torpor pods containing FI patterning were deployed one million, two hundred-nine thousand, six-hundred moments prior to now to identify and examine local areas of concern.

~Demographical dialectics and trends reveal multiple widespread maladaptive aberrant memetic pathogens amongst Ennedi species to be transmitted through disruption of Legacy operations by aberrant integrated indigents.

~All current foreign integration policies are annulled. All integrated and unaccounted for indigents are to be immediately sterilized.~

Marozi and Hokkaido turned and left the Rotunda. The damage had been done - there was no means of appealing any Annulment issued by the Censors. All that one could do was clean up in the wake. Once outside, they off-handedly signed to one another with their maxillae as they shuffled towards their awaiting shuttles.

"This is the first I have heard about FI being sent beyond Legacy boundaries to explore the new Universe." Hokkaido signed, the jittering waive of their maxillae indicating both suspicion and apprehension.

"I am similarly situationed." Marozi replied, their signage smooth and neutral.

"I see." The conversation ended there. It was little surprise that one of the Heads of the Societal Sector, powerful though they were, had not heard of the deployment. It was much more suspicious that a head of the Industrial Sector had not been informed - too suspicious to be taken entirely at limb-value. The best course of action would be neither to intrude too far into schemes unaware, nor to blindly follow along. The Sectors got along not by trusting one another, but simply by not working at cross-purposes. Whatever agenda the Industrial Sector heads were pursuing, any ensuing damage would be duly handled by the Censors. Trying to get wrapped up in it would just exacerbate the damage - if there was any. The Sectors were not known to communicate with one another freely beyond pure business and logistical matters; if the Industrial Sector had not issued any official statements they probably had a good reason for doing so. Or at least insufficient reason to issue an official statement. Perhaps they were waiting to see what would come of the Torpor probings.

Either way, their prearranged plan of action was now in motion. Even the dullest amongst the Ennedi could have foretold that the Censors were going to default on most if not all of the Foreign Integration Policies. The revolts were the source of the recent uptrend in aberrant behavior.

What most Ennedi would not have realized was that the Sectors government had a responsibility to save as many indigent alien lives as possible. Most Ennedi spent their lives unfulfilled, thinking that just because they had the privilege of being fully glutted that they were amongst the most gifted intellectuals in the universe - treading along doing whatever menial task or labor had been assigned to their lineage from bygone generations prior. If told flat-out that every indigent had to be sterilized, the overall Ennedi populace would not have cared one iota. They simply accepted the 'fact' that the Ennedi Legacy was morally and strategically entitled to pursue whatever agenda was deemed necessary, due to cultural indoctrination and mood-altering diets. Ignoring the foundation from which the entire Legacy's presumed authority sprung:

The Ennedi, as a species, were morally and ethically superior to all other forms of organic life. They were destined to rule, because they were best suited for the task. If others disagreed, they were automatically the inferior party and therefore aberrant, only fit for prompt removal. Thus facilitating the ideal state, wherein the Ennedi benevolently ruled an interstellar empire composed of countless indigent alien species who otherwise would never have known peace or prosperity to the degree seen within the Legacy. Preparing those species for their newfound existence required death and war because of their active and malevolent opposition of their eventual, fated, eternity of paradise under the benevolent and wise rule of the Legacy.

That was the premise upon which FI initiated all forms of diplomacy. That was the premise upon every war waged. That was the premise upon which all of Ennedi society had been maintained for hundreds of years. The Censors did not care about ideals and abstract strategic goals - they saw only numbers and statistical data and internal policy conflicts. Savants within living stone - omniscient, but ignorant.

In the end, Hakkaido doubted any of the indigents revolting beyond the core and hub worlds could be saved. They would be sterilized, as the Censors demanded. The indigents in the hub worlds though, undergoing integration - they could be saved, and the premise upon which the Legacy was built could be preserved.

Hakkaido was overwhelmed with a sense of internal gratification. Internally, they knew that the only reason they were so pleased with themself was due to the very cultural indoctrination and mood-altering diet which they had helped design, implement, and maintain - but self-perpetuity was very nearly the whole point. They had contributed to the greater whole that was the Legacy, and soon they would leave it - better than when they had joined it. Their offspring would do the same, as would their offspring. For one immaculate moment, Hakkaido could see all of eternity lay out before them - the Legacy, perfection across time, ever-improving, all-devouring. A self-perpetuating shadow of reality itself.


Legacy Territory
Outer Boundary
Dark Space
Legacy Starbase 'Century Manifold.'

Amarok waited patiently for The Nothing After Death.

Patience was not a common Ennedi characteristic. They had so little time to start with, any waste of it, however small, was akin to a small existential crisis. As it happened though, naval warfare waged in a Galactic theater had spans of time as long as several hundred thousand moments where one was expected to do nothing but wait. As one of the Sector Heads of Legacy Command and Command-in-Chief of the Legacy Armada, Amarok had spent most of their life waiting, as most of their tactical and strategic decisions had been made almost instantly, and carried out just as quickly. The prospect of being forced to sit still while the biological clock wound down to the final toll before The Nothing After Death was one they were used to.

Amarok was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of awe. A quality not quite as unfamiliar to the Ennedi as patience, but usually only experienced once. Fully glutted Enedi tended to find awesome sights uninteresting. Seeing a planet from space for the first time. Standing at the edge of a ravine. Surveying a massive alien fleet on long range scanners. Trailing near the corona of a star. All of the Ennedi as one though, shared the common experience of awe in the last moments of life. It was therefore fitting that the word for Awe in Ennuic was the same for Solace and Terror simultaneously.

The display before Amarok flashed to life as they received a message from C&C.

The Censors have annulled all policies relating to interaction and integration of indigents. Social Sector Head Hakkaido has issued a number of hole policies drafted in accordance with prior agreements.

The Legacy Endures.

Amarok made a number of faint, light gestures with their maxillae as they began to issue orders via their circuit. Things had seemingly gone according to plan. With their final act, they would usher in a new era for the Ennedi Legacy. He briefly wondered how the Censors and Arbitration would react, when they discovered the duplicity. When they discovered the true occupants of the Torpor Probes that had been sent out. When they figured out that Amarok was Aberrant.

Amarok, being a fully glutted Ennedi who was In On It - It being the premise upon which the entire Legacy was maintained - had never really believed in The Nothing After Death. Not in any serious capacity. Just as their vision began to fade though, they thought they glimpsed something. A figure, an entity. Nothing within everything, space within spaces, void between all. It beckoned with the promise of blind eternities and the cessation of potential.

Having now experienced The Nothing After Death from the threshold at the end of life, Amarok came to the conclusion that death was immensely overrated. Then they died.

Elsewhere, within the depths of Subspace, several vessels had already journeyed more than halfway to their intended destinations. Soon, a new Era would begin.

Pod Heliomind, Surveyor of Stellar Volumes

The Lucid Patron of Silver Dreams, LPSD, looked upon the stellar map before her. Her vines twirled in nervousness as she understood the cosmology of the universe the sanctum has been banished to. So much in the past three sanctum ordained days has occurred since the end of the old universe! The buzzes in her collective mind echo again and again, blithering on and on in sheer paranoia about what will the next verdant one have everyone do after the last one was banished for failing the old universe. LPSD found it the most disturbing thing looking at the new universe, more disturbing than the presence of a nearby civilization or the presence of energies that emit only death to all that go near- there is a edge to this new universe. The sparse scattering of stars and the small apparent size of the universe only confirms what her fellow pod members have been claiming for the past two days now- that this new universe is a prison cage. What else may dwell in this prison cage likely have been banished here for their wrong doings in the past universe as well! How will the next verdant one handle all this? Will the planting continue? Hopefully. And it than doesn’t? Death. Death. Death! Death! Life?

The intensive buzzing going on within LPSD mercifully begun to die down when a fellow pod member entered the circular chamber with her. A much more vibrant green than LPSD her fellow liliate is- Dark Mint, Elder for Good Minds sensed the intense paranoia from LPSD and crawled her way into the room where astronomical data of the nearby universe is on full display.

“Nothing to worry of. New ways new blessings!” Dark Mint’s consciousness openly projected to her overt co-podmate. Lucid looked at Dark Mint, baffled completely at the sheer optimism. How could Dark Mint even see this as remotely good? The sky is dimmer than ever before, there may well be far less places for life to spread, killer civilizations for of murderers and psychopathic death machines may well exist nearby and here Dark Mint in her benign naiveté assuming that simply more blessings will solve all issues in the universe!

“Idiot. Try harder.” Lucid’s consciousness shouted at Dark Mint.

“Less stars means sooner green universe. Your consciousness has its rude flare again! Police mind better or more of your mind will be removed. Only warning.” Dark Mint buzzed vigorously, but without much avail to changing any minds. Dark Mint’s minds had little debate on what to do, noting the poor behavior of Lucid as she looked at the data. Dark Mint than senses Lucid again and collectively tells her “You need consider new Verdant One will come to being soon. Worry of the future pointless- actions happen, nature occur, the endless task continues. Keep carrying forward. More knowledge better for Sanctum, better for life, better for all!”

Lucid after her brief outburst just gives Dark Mint the collected data she has twirled in one of her vines, holding out the small, seed-like drive until Dark mint’s own vines wrap around the drive. Dark mint than simply crawls out of the room, leaving Lucid to her own devices. There is a much greater issue at hand- the ordination of the new verdant One is near.

Pod Outlook, for New Pastures

The prospectors seek a new set of candidates. Many to choose from, every ounce of time crucial!

The cubical probes sent from the cardoid shaped prospecting ship touch down upon world after world, so many fantastic, strange- but all useless to the Sanctum. A world with sprawling caves of quartz, who would ever need that? A world that is really just a extremely, extremely large rock that doesn't even have quartz caves? What pitiful excuse of a world that is! A world that is endless ocean- bah it's ammonia. No good, no good. The survey must go on, from star to star the survey must search. The Insightful Elder of New Prospects keeps looking out for a new world to bless, a task that like in the past realm of existence remains a thankless task. All these useless worlds, why do they have to exist? The Insightful Elder kept seeing only infertile, hostile worlds. What to do with these worlds, she wonders in circles. Wondering again and again.

Two patrons operating the nerve filled drones fiddled about as The Insightful looked at and felt each world's pictures. So many of them feel of death with little warmth, others felt toxic to the touch, still more fuming with lava and runaway greenhouses, made worse by how perfect they could've been. A somewhat vibrantly colored patron asks the white flowered elder, "What of the Verdant One? Will we go to home? Is our task done?"

The Elder's five large petals flared up, with only one voice replying "We do not stop prospecting."

"What if they pick you? You are good elder!" The patron replies, bizzling in confusion.

The Elder's queens intensively buzzed, but the elder still, using one voice states "Even for the Verdancy."

The lesser patron stops in its tracks and goes back to inspecting the probes, in silence.

Democracies 12th Exploration Fleet, In Transit to Outpost B9

Admiral Lawrence Von Abend presided in the command bay of the DHS Hidden Flame, one of the greatest creations in Democracies history. The Tak'Wal class Carrier is the most durable and arguably most powerful in the Navy. With no broadsides and only a few nuclear torpedoes, it's most deadly weapon is it's fighters. The Ti'Fin class, the universal VoidFighter in the Democracies. With advanced sentient AI, powerful engines and a deadly set of weapons, the Ti'Fin had certainly earned its place.

Of course, Lawrence was thinking nothing of the sort. His mind drifted towards his task up ahead. To find Outpost B9 and if possible, destroy it by any means necessary. It held the Democracies greatest secrets, high tech and dangerous technologies and most important of all, it did not follow the Rug Protocol. Whenever the President issues the order Code Black, the Rug Protocol is immediately in place. All Outposts outside of the perimeter of the Democracies must destroy the coordinates that will reveal where the Fay'Ran Jik system, the Shez'Di system and the Rik'R system are located.

This reveals the problem. Code Black was supposed to never have been in effect and Rug Protocol stay an old relic of the past. No one expected that it would come into effect. Again, no one really expected the past couple of days to ever happen as well. With the mess the Vacuum caused, it was a wonder how the President sent a message to him quick enough in the first place.

The Admiral snapped out of his musings, checking his fleet composition and strategies one last time. The 12th had one more dreadnought than other Fleets of it's class. The DHS Might of the Poor was fresh out the docks, this was it's first voyage with the Fleet. It's captain was inexperienced, someone you never want to have in your fleet. The crew, unlike the captain, had been in multiple campaigns and hand picked from various ships. They were now flying the colours of the 12th, the signature blue and orange contrast.

"Admiral, the Cruiser Retribution is reporting problems with it's FTL drive. It's Flingshot Drives are fluctuating. The captain is asking permission for us to stop." Lawrence rubbed his brittle beard in thought. Whenever the heat of a Flingshot drive fluctuates it always means two things. The heat fluctuation is just some random event that will even out in a few minutes. That is usually the case. Though sometimes, Flinghshot drives have a tendency to make a bloody explosi-



Democracies 12th Exploration Fleet, Unknown Space

The Cruiser Retribution was a terrible loss for the 12th Exploration Fleet. And when a Flingshot Drive explodes, it tends to lead a Fleet in the wrong direction. Spending four days in Flingshot, they arrived in an Unknown location, in a system that none of them have seen before.

The Kashbrillaari Nebula
The Maw Frontier
Five Standard Weeks following the True Vacuum Event

The deep reconnaissance controller ship, Yuansu, adjusted its course slightly, allowing its ugly bulk to position for optimal launch vectors for the four FTL equipped Diviak-class space probes it clutched to its outer hull. Following closely in the Yuansu’s wake like doting, overprotective parents, was the frigate VRS Folmer, and the corvette VRS Hastos. As with any privately operated High Value Asset (HVA), as the Yuansu was designated, it required an escort from the 4th Fleet. The Maw Frontier was a lucrative expanse of space for the VUR, but as its name suggested, a frontier was exactly what it was.

The Maw Frontier’s legal population was almost exclusively tied with deep space mining operations, and these Val lived mostly in the several dozen stations scattered throughout the region. Given the Maw’s relative distance from the core systems of the Valeth Unified Republic, it lacked the development, and thus the draw, of general colonization. As such, the Maw Frontier had the highest concentration of pirates, terrorists, and political dissidents of any VUR sector of space. The navy’s 4th Fleet, along with the 8th Legion of the Republic Commerce Corp, had the daunting task of maintaining order and free commercial operations within the expanse of the Maw.

Operating from the hub of Piroch Station, the navy and RCC forces went about their duties skillfully. Thousands of missions had reduced the once sizable rebel network of the Maleth Rokulval to a mere shadow of its former self. Following the True Vacuum event, many in the VUR feared that the rebel group would attempt to capitalize on the relative chaos, and ramp up terrorist action within the Maw. However, that fear had not yet come to fruition. The navy’s Fleet Intelligence Office reported that Maleth Rokulval no longer possessed any capital-class vessels, and so the incursions against legitimate VUR ships within the Maw Frontier had actually gone down since the True Vacuum event. Never before had operations in the Maw been so smooth.

Old habits die hard however, and the 4th Fleet was far from believing that Maleth Rokulval had completely been reduced to a state of insignificance. So, as the Yuansu went about its business, the navy ships Folmer and Hastos went about theirs.

As it maneuvered into its final launch position, the Yuansu retro-thrusted to hold station. The ship’s captain communicated with the Folmer and the Hastos, assuring that each vessel was aware that the four deep space probes were about to disembark. Each navy vessel reported it was indeed aware, and confirmed their positions were well clear of the escape vectors of the probes. This mundane procedure was interrupted as the corvette VRS Hastos violently disintegrated into an expanding ball of ionized metal.

The klaxons of sensor warnings followed a split second after the Hastos exploded, blaring at crews of the Yuansu and Folmer that new ship signatures were present, and that targeting beams had interrogated their hulls. With a skill that belied its crew’s surprise, the Folmer began immediate evasive maneuvers, and initiated the process of training its ion-beam cannons and mass driver batteries against the new threat.

By the time the Folmer oriented itself to return fire however, it was all too late. A dozen high-output ion beams reduced the frigate’s point matrix shields to nothingness, followed closely by the impact of several hundred super-dense, mass-driver accelerated slugs. These slugs ripped through the hull of the Folmer, imparted an almost incalculable amount of kinetic energy into the superstructure. Bulkheads disappeared, and the tachyon fusion core lost containment integrity. In mere seconds, the ship joined the Hastos in becoming an expanding cloud of atoms that would soon be lost amidst the heart of the Kashbrillaari Nebula.

The Yuansu followed protocol when in the face of what could only be designated as a super-capital class enemy ship—its engines powered down, and its protective shields were lowered. From the vantage of the bridge, the Yuansu became shrouded in shadow as its assailant came to eclipse the light from the surrounding stars. Hailing frequencies were opened to the foundered Yuansu, and the massive vessel identified itself for the first time.

“This is the dreadnaught Red Pelt. Your vessel, and all its cargo, are now under the direct control of the one, true, and legitimate Valeth government. We are the Maleth Rokulval.”





The Tuazor Asteroid Cloud
The Maw Frontier
Six Standard Weeks following the True Vacuum Event

The dreadnaught Red Pelt rose from the floating cloud of astral rock like a living leviathan, its hard lines ominous and deadly silhouetted amidst the field of stars. From its belly, the deep reconnaissance controller ship Yuansu emerged. The ship bristled with the bodies of the four large FTL equipped probes, just at it had a week before. Yet, all was not the same. Each of the probes, originally built to prospect and analyze new mining sectors within the Maw Frontier, had been repurposed. Now each was a mass of sensors and comm arrays, destined to move amongst the vast new universe with the sole purpose of making first contact with other FTL-achieved civilizations.

From their contacts within the VUR navy and scientific community, Maleth Rokulval knew that the distinct signatures of FTL vessels existed beyond the borders of the republic. They also knew that the VUR government was taking its time in reaching out to these civilizations, weary of inciting war in the wake of the True Vacuum event. The VUR wanted to make sure its own house was in order before it went about drawing the attention of outsiders. Maleth Rokulval had a very different outlook on the matter.

For those Val that held onto the old ways, the ways that had governed the Val prior to the tyrannical democratic republic had been established, chaos was an element to be desired. Maleth Rokulval didn’t want the VUR to get its affairs stable, and if it required the influence of alien civilizations to achieve its ends, then so be it.

So, in the shadow of the Red Pelt, these four deep space probes departed. In short order, they had achieved FTL speeds, and were now rocketing towards the four corners of the new universe. Their courses were straight, and easily trackable to any civilization of spacefaring ability. From within their hulls, wave after wave of tachyon particles broadcast outward at similar super-light speed, making the probes veritable beacons in the omnipresent dark of the void.

Shao IX
Taoshe, Lilleap ( Capital city)
Valag let out a long sigh as he stood from his chair in the senate chambers. Large candle chandeliers hung from the domed ceiling, illuminating a hastily laid map on the chamber floor. He was dressed in full combat armor, pockmarked with round impacts and burn marks. The majority of the senators were in attendance as well, dressed in a similar fashion.
The sound of a heavy guns could be heard in the distance along with sporadic machine gun fire. Valag looked up at the senators strewn around the room and shook his head “ How are things?” he said pointing down towards the map. The first senator to stand was from the capital district of Lilleap.

“ Fighting in the capitol is fierce, the city is cut in half. The Hygeia forces occupy the Northern end of the city. It is mostly residential but there are a few hospitals and a militia weapons depot, no more then 100 rifles.”

Valag sighed and nodded waving for the senator to take his seat. One after another senators rose to give their bad news, it was the same, The Hygeia family was taking ground.

A few days after the “Cosmic Event” the Hygeia family launched the biggest coup even seen in Aradite history. The Hygeia, Ghral, Jalai and Kumpt families grouped together and launched an attack on the capital cities of the core worlds. “ Do we know anything of our allies? The Kalai? Pugeux, Numare?” Valag said, nodding his head towards the foreign advisor in the room.

“ None, We know the Kalai’s on Jalag are fighting hard, but we don’t know how they are fairing. The Pugeux on Haloh and the Numare on Icarus are still mysteries. We have heard sporadic reports of stolen ships but I am not sure of their validity. Admiral Yon from the third fleet has sent out ships to search.

Valag sighed and sat back down in the stone chair, shaking his head. The Aradite Civil war had begun.

Stolen Blackhole class ship
Unknown space between Shao IX and Enned Territory

Due to improper coordinates or just an untrained crew the ship ended up somewhere lost in space. Old star charts were useless now in this new barren vacuum and navigation was impossible. This ship was no different from the other in its class, but it carried something special. The most devastating weapon ever developed by the Aradites was sitting in the hangar bay of the small vessel. A small sphere sat contained in a gelatinous liquid case about the size of a standard 105mm shell. The crux of the entire Hygeia revolution was now lost in space with a handful of incompetent pirates.

"By the Collective Consciousness!" Yelled Atnana, haphazardly pulling his headphones off of his head. "They've responded in Heda!"

"Turn off the translator, Atnana." Said Kamil in a mildly annoyed voice. "This is why Chaidiss is the comms officer."

"Well, unlike Chaidiss, I don't need to sleep twice a day. I also don't need an exoskeleton to walk. And I don't force the ship-wide gravity to be lowered while I'm aboard."

"She has a genetic condition dammit!" Said Ikuza "We're in the middle of a first contact and you're taking potshots at the disabled, get it together! Vēṭikana, what did the message actually say?"

"It was a repeat of your audio, Captain. Specifically everything past my name." Said the AI, the holographic body still present on the bridge.

"So they didn't understand." Said Ikuza, sighing. "At least they're friendly. I suppose speaking with an alien intelligence is a bit much to ask for on a warship."

"They cut off the first part." Mentioned Tomred, still staring at the radar in the hopes of determining just what the signals were coming from. "I think they understand, but just can't speak our language. You know, physically incapable. They're probably using audio samples to communicate."

"If that's so, this should be easy enough. Just send a dictionary, and Abh one. No need to confuse them by throwing a dozen different languages at them at once."

"Understood, Captain." Said the AI, completely ignoring the fact that he might have been talking to one of the crew. "I have transmitted the entirety of the most recent edition of the Eight World's Standard Dictionary."



"Total losses have come in at fifteen duosexagintillion Imperial Credits at current value, or fifteen untrigintilliard in the Carina system. All Socal Rings and Spheres have been lost, resulting in approximately five novemdecillion lives lost, or twelve novemdecillion if we count non-sapients. Five and twelve decillion in the Carina system."

The Royal Court was nothing like what everyone remembered, and even some of the faces were different. With the loss of the royal palace, they had to make do with the cramped situation room on Shōrino'ba, a room which hadn't been used for countless years. Since the last war, in fact. It was barely suitable to hold the Royal Court, the only things to sit on were cheap, light chairs brought in hastily for the meeting (the old ones had long since deteriorated).

"Is there anything we do have left?" Asked the Empress, resting her forehead in her hands. She never thought she would be the one to preside over the greatest disaster that had ever occurred. If she had expected to preside over any event at all, it would have been a royal ball. "The survey's been completed, so what do we have?"

"The Royal Shipyards are still operational." Said Baron Socal. His family had always been close to the royals, and he'd served as the Empress' adviser for as long as anyone could remember. It was his family that invented the giant megastructures that had housed the population of the empire, something they liked to brag about. Until now, that is. "But they're owned by the populace of their planet, as are all the other shipyards. As for industry, we don't have anything that could help. A Socal Sphere would be impossible with the matter we have under our control, and we got mostly the core worlds. There's no construction industry here, only consumer goods. And, of course, no farms aside from the ones built by hobbyists."

"What's the civil situation?"

"The Carina are having trouble with riots, while the Morii are busy gassing their own populace to get rid of dissidents. Revolts have popped up on multiple planets, it seems they are taking advantage of the situation to further their cause. The market of Kibō-hosh has crashed, and the entire planet is in chaos. Anybody who isn't practicing cannibalism or looting is starving."

"Cannibalism?! Surely they wouldnt-"

"We have official figures, Empress. Kibō-hosh is no longer a civilized world."

"Cant the Morii send troops? Can we get food there?"

"Your Highness, there isn't food to send. The Empire will be devoid of any edibles within the year, and that's if we enforce rations that may or may not keep people from starving. And this is all disregarding the looting. The only option is to respond with force, which we don't have. We've nationalized too many sports teams already, if we pull anything else under our control there will be even more unrest. We could only get a few ships if we stay under the radar, which we would have to do."

"There's a High School team with an authentic Kaguya bombardment ship." Said the Prince, who often acted as a royal adviser in order to train for when he would one day be Emperor. "It's the only one left that is still in its original planetary bombardment configuration. We all know what it can do."

The room was absolutely silent as everyone stared at the Prince. Nobody had to ask what he was talking about, they all knew.

"You know damn well that we won't do that." Said the Empress, her teeth clenched. "There's another option, surely. What if we nationalize the ground combat teams? We could send them in."

"Your Highness." Said Socal "If we nationalize them, the rest of the Empire will go into open revolt! We're not used to the government controlling, well, anything!"

"Then we'll have to make them accept it, because the only other option is genocide!"

"How? We don't have any capability for propaganda!"

"The businesses do."

"As if they would support the nationalization of teams they sponsor in tournaments that would all be cancelled! Empress, our only option is to glass Kibō-hosh. It's not pretty, but it's the only way."

"If we don't send ground forces in, billions die. If we do, we can shave off a few zeroes. We need to have the support of the people, and to get that, we need the support of the businesses. Since we can't get the support of the businesses, we have to make it so that we are the businesses."

"Your solution is more nationalization? Are you mad? You've trusted me in everything else, and now, when there's the most riding on the decision, you ignore me?!"

"Baron. I am a Na'brel. The Na'brels have been fighting for as long as evolution has allowed us to. Your family was killed off by the Morii, and it was a Na'brel that saved your last survivor. When your family fought at Midway, it was that same Na'brel that saved you. The Socals have always been better at peace than at war. And as far as we're concerned, this is a war. I trust the judgement passed down by my ancestors over your own in times of war."

"Understood, your Highness." Said Socal, backing down. "How do you propose we nationalize the businesses? Their owners won't go along with it."

"We nationalize the teams first. We give the owners an ultimatum: surrender your businesses to save the Empire, or die. There are still patriots, now more than ever. Deaths will be minimized."

"But-"

"This is a war, it is my duty as the Empress to save as many lives as I can. If that means that I must take some, then so be it. We will send in the troops and nationalize the businesses. Not specific ones, all of them. We're in a galaxy that is almost certainly inhabited, and in interstellar politics, you can't be weak. Every species we encounter is likely to be hostile, and if we're weaker than them, we became slaves... or worse. All shipyards are to begin production of military vessels, all factories are to be retooled to produce only essential products. Anyone who keeps a garden or farm will be ordered to put all of their produce under government jurisdiction. I want you to find suitable land for farming as well, Socal. If we collectivize those with agricultural experience into multiple, larger farms, we can keep food output high enough to slow the starving of our people. Any food we have will be rationed strictly, give everyone just enough food to live and work on. If their job requires less labor or focus, they get less food."

"Understood. And what of the deployment of the ground combat teams?"

"Send them anywhere there is unrest, and order them to put it down. If it can be done without bullets, then make sure it is."

"Yes, your Highness!"

An unnamed asteroid orbiting Star One.

The ship apparently named Vēṭikana transmitted a surprisingly large amount of information into the asteroid belt, where the hidden All-Mother received it. By referencing this new information against the patterns of how the prior information had been encoded, she eventually came to the conclusion that it was a series of symbols. Over the course of about five seconds, she proceeded to analyze the contents, determine the most simplistic symbols, determine their meaning, and from there, determine the meaning and arrangement styles of the other symbols. She had essentially cracked their language in its entirety in that amount of time, though this was limited to the knowledge contained within the dictionary, which was still substantial. Now imbued with the knowledge of sentences and words and other concepts taken from the dictionary, the All-Mother took a few nanoseconds to consider this discovery.

In particular were the concepts she had just learned of war, killing, genocide, and weapons, Interesting. I had not considered the possibility that one would want to kill another of one's people. From what I can gleam, this species is made of a multitude of individuals, unlike my hierarchy, all with their own motivations. Disharmonious and divided. Their efforts must be like a series of programs all scratching towards something at random. Given enough time, they have obviously made something of themselves, but it clearly must have taken them an enormous amount.

This sentiment seems true based off this concept of 'evolution'. Odd, they came from primordial single-cells. Unfortunately, this doesn't answer my own question of where I came from, though this dictionary offers some clues. Creator, designer, constructor, all hint towards it. My makeup indicates I had to have been made, it seems impossible that my design simply manifested from nothing.

Back on point! I must be careful with these people. Based off their ship, they must have some serious 'firepower' either on it or back home. They could become dangerous despite what seems to be an opening proclamation of 'peace'. I must have more information on them. History books. Access to some kind of net. I cannot fight, control, or avoid the unknown.

She then called out across the void to the people within the ship, mimicking the captain's voice once more, "Hello, representatives of the 'Empire of the Four Species'. Your dictionary has been an enormous boon to me. I lacked many of the concepts that it contained, but now I fully understand them. Welcome to my cozy star system. Though, based off the dictionary's descriptions of you, it is probably significantly less hospitable to your various species. To hit upon the point I want to make, however, I will be clear. I desire more of your knowledge. Access to more of your books, electronic storages, etc. My Arms are capable of providing compensation, as well as compensation for the dictionary, though it will take some small amount of time based on your offer. I also wish to 'see' you in person. The dictionary contains some images but my eyes cannot seem to penetrate too deeply into your hull. I await your reply."

In her mental world, a chessboard was already beginning to form. Steps to take, a road to walk. Potential obstacles and danger. If this civilization contained so many words related to war and killing, the All-Mother would have to be a fool not to believe the others wouldn't. Orders were relayed to the Arms containing instructions to construct new Arms. By combining the information from the Mother's scans of the unknown ship with the information of the ship she'd arrived on, she had already begun designing new Arms with various purposes. The first would be 'scouts', sent out to discover these new peoples and imbued with the ability to handle these first contact scenarios. But their construction would take at least a few hours, if not a few days.

-Planet Edocea, Gakk System, Noviran Socialist Union-

"Colonel Matarahi?" asked the radar technician, peering into his terminal. "You're going to want to come see this."

The Catopian colonel made his way across the metal catwalk towards the technician. "Yes?"

The technician pointed at a blip on his screen. "We have an unidentified cruiser-class ship that just came out of FTL 400,000 kilometers away from the planet. From what I can see it looks like nothing we've seen before."

The colonel's eyes widened. "I have to contact Luna immediately."

He sprinted up through the other technicians on their terminals in the middle of the Gakk System Military Command complex, towards his office with the ansible. He slammed his hand on the emergency alien contact button, transmitting the distress call thirty light years away in a matter of seconds to where Premier Sahria solemnly pressed the button to reply.

The Premier's face lit up the central screen in the command complex.

"Colonel Matarahi, kindly report on the situation."

"We have a singular unidentified alien vessel that has appeared in our system, Premier. We have not yet hailed them, nor have they communicated to us."

"Very well, Colonel. You have my permission to issue a standard greeting message to these aliens. Let us hope that they respond positively or indeed can understand us at all."

@SgtEasy

((Contact engage- Terminal?))

Pod Outlook, for New Pastures

The search for a planet never ends for New Prospects, in this new universe there is just too much unmapped! Scanning for worlds with telescopes is just too slow and ineffective in a universe like this one so efforts to further expand the reach of the Sanctum must be done by ship and ship alone. Finishing again, with some other lifeless star system that has no prospect of habitable worlds outside of some lukewarm water world the Elder states to all her patrons, "We need to see data. Than we go to new star. New star may have preferable world. It is like the sanctum's glorious Sun."

The Oceanic Patron who is Azure Minded catalogs each world tediously, making a special spot for worlds colored blue despite her main task at hand being to feel each world that the ship comes across. Many of them are rocky or icy moons along with gas giants and worlds that are dead for one given reason or another. Some are aborted garden worlds, others freezing cold worlds with ice covering most the surface... But it is the water world, not the fertile world, that the Azure Minded touches the most. Fellow patrons have difficulty understand just why Azure Mind prefers the feel of a water world with its choking atmosphere and lack of surface to take any roots, but her fellow patrons tolerate the behavior if only because water world data has its use.

Her stash of grey spheres are regularly felt for humidity, texture of surface and temperature along with life. And they are what is used to determine if a world is good for Liliate, or just some dead world. Some of these spheres Azure Minded has upfront in her corner of the ship, but still more she has hidden away from everyone else. The Azure Minded is interrupted by the Elder quite abruptly. The Elder Patron of New Prospects tells the Azure Minded "The data. All that has been found. We have past *3 weeks* of time."

The Azure Minded hands the Elder Patron all the worlds cataloged, all the worlds except water worlds.

The Elder, scanning through the worlds notices the error.

"Where are the water worlds? Is thus cursed universe dry too? Azure, where are the water worlds?"

"I am sorry. I like to separate the water worlds. All the results are accurate. There was only these water worlds.", the Azure Minded claims as she hands over a couple of her deep blue and turquoise spheres to the Elder.

"Good work.", The Elder tells Azure Minded as the ship begins its warp to the next star over, "Be prepared for anything."

Little does any liliate a part of New Prospects realize what they may be coming across, in the next star over.

((Encase you need context Terminal, their FTL is a popper))