Railgun:2350 (IC/Open/FT-Nation Rp)

[Tagali Federation]

Railgun:2350
OOC

New Years Eve, December 31st, 2349
Earth, North American Northeastern Adminstration Zone
New York City, Washington-Boston Urban Center
United Nations Capitol District


REMINDER: Flu Hazards are in effect, vaccination is mandatory for all individuals unless otherwise specified. Failure to acquire up-to-date vaccinations is punishable by a fine of $1,000 and enforced quarantine until vaccinations are administered. Remember, we all benefit from herd immunity and good hygiene.

The PSA concluded, returning to the audio of the various screens throughout the lounge.The lounge was in the Kishan Center, a towering structure that served as housing and working for thousands of UN personnel. The lounge was a popular spot with UN employees, serving dishes and alcohol from all over the globe, a popular order being khachapuri and scotch. While normally busy, the lounge was especially packed as work for many in the UN-Capitol District and the rest of the city had finished early for the New Year.

Deputy-Secretary General Alexei Viktoriya sat at the bar, organizing events for the next month while enjoying a bottle of Julbrew. Alexei had taken to the drink during his time working as Treasurer in the West Africa Administration. Business was relatively clear going into January. A few dinners with various Regional Administrators and charity balls. February though would be the real hell. The UN State of the Union Address, and a visit to Mars on the anniversary of the Martian mutiny. Figuring out the security detail was a nightmare. The logistics of getting to Mars was a hassle, but the real problem were the Martians who at times were rather anal about complying with Terran standards, probably taking off a decade or two off of Alexei's life. All of this for the first visit by a UN Secretary General ever since Mars had become independent in the 22nd Century.
Alexei had just finished an email to the Regional Administrator of the Afgan Red Zone when an alert from the Secretary-General herself had come in. An emergency meeting was underway. Alexei quickly scanned in his card, paying for his drink before dashing over to the UN Headquarters.

Alexei took a tram over to the old UN building, the ancient building now dwarfed by the towering arcologies that stood over many of buildings that once made up NYC's skyline. It's architecture still showed remnants of it's origins of the 20th and 21st century. The place was slowly coming back to life as the alert had been sent out various departments. Whatever was going on, it was big. Alexei scanned his ID into a pad protecting the Secretary-General's war room. Immediately, he was greeted by his assistant Saiki Ryushi."Talk to me, Ryushi." Alexei ordered, getting straight to business. "There's been a leak, sir." Ryushi replied. " All of the data on Project Wayfinder has been released out into the System." Alexei was shocked. "Project Wayfinder? How the hell did THAT get leaked?" Alexei took his seat next to Secretary-General Amira Hassan as the UN's Head of Intelligence Serapina Ulozaite, spoke first. "I'll get right to the point. As of 40 minutes ago, head of Project Wayfinder, Asa Tounkara somehow was able to get past us and leak out data and schematics for Project Wayfinder into the whole system. A Black Ops Team was dispatched within two minutes of us finding out, but by the time they got there, Asa had overdosed. They're currently in coma but it isn't looking like they'll make it. We're working on detaining the rest of the Project team in case of collaboration." Secretary-General Hassan was the first to speak up.

"Do we know if they had any connections?" Serapina shook her head no. "We're still analyzing security footage and messages over the course of their career but nothings coming up connecting them to any foreign powers." Admiral Bernaldo Quiroga rolled his eyes. "I don't believe that. Luna's already patented the design. This seems to be a failure of your department, Serapina." Before the Head of Intelligence could bite back, Under-Secretary-General Tamir Menouar slammed his fist on the table. "How could we have dropped the ball this badly? We could have secured Earth-dominance over the system. Our operational range could have extended as far as the fucking Oort cloud! Hell, we could have even bypassed the need for the 4th fleet entirely by establishing resource extraction missions out of the solar system! Now though, no. Now, we'll have Mars, Luna, fucking Pluto trailing us where ever we go now." Secretary-General Hassan only chuckled, much to the displeasure of Menouar. "Is something funny, Madame Secretary?"

"Just the thought that are problems will come from an Inner Power. Luna's ships could get FTL tech, but Luna itself can't. We'll always have a gun pointed at their heads and vice versa. As for Mars, it would take what, months, years even to fully equip their fleet. I've worked with many of their officials during my time. I believe we can keep the current course with them and bring them to the table before anything comes of this." Hassan stood up. flicking up a holographic map of the system. "My real concern is here." She said, making a line through the belt with here finger. "It is still within memory of many in the belt and beyond of a time when Inner system forces used them as pawns in our great game. All it takes is one vengeful crew with a cargo ship and couple rocks and they can go on a suicide run with a jerry-rigged FTL-drive and they can kill billions on every Inner Planet before whoever survives takes them out. It seems to me like we have a common interest."

"Are you saying that we should team up with our greatest enemies in the system to fend off against a bunch of pirates, fanatics, and corporate libertarians at the ass end of Human civilization? Menouar snapped. "We might as well give the British Isles independence while we're at it." Hassan crossed her arms. "Those pirates, fanatics, and corporate libertarians are some of the fastest growing powers in the system. Titan has a force of over 400 ships, Ganymede has a force that edges out Mars in numbers. Even Enceladus has a fleet of 800. Any of them could use this to flex their muscles and bully the 4th and 5th Fleets out of their backyards. Let's not even mention what Europa would want to do with this tech." Menouar didn't like it, but was forced to give in, bringing a smirk to Hassan's face. "Now, I want communications opened up with Luna and Mars. Alexei, I'll leave that up to you. Do whatever you have to get them up to bring them to the table. Remind them of the position we'll all share if we don't get ahead of this incident."

[Arkeyana]

Sedna Station, Oort Cyberocracy
The Cyborg prowled through the cold, airless corridor deep below Sedna's surface. Barely human, the towering machine was permanently in a hunched-forward position, it's optic-laden head twisting every now and then to examine the support structures around it. On either side of it, MicroGravity Combat Units floated not far behind, holding themselves aloft with weak engines. Soon, they reached the end of the corridor, a blast door sliding open as the two MGCUs entered specially-made tunnels to travel back to the surface. Now alone, the Cybercrat advanced into the waiting darkness.

Soon, it emerged from an airlock into a now-pressurized environment-nitrogen, argon, and other inert gasses to prevent the corrosion of vital systems. Vast arrays of server banks stretched in every direction, mechanical arms on sliding platforms moving along the ceiling and floor in seeming idleness. Large cables snaked upwards into the ceiling, leading to wherever the attention of the entity at the core of this complex was needed. Eventually, they reached the center of the array, standing on a catwalk before a large, mechanical...thing. It was...something. There appeared to be something humanoid at the center of it, but there were so many wires and structural bits surrounding and attached to them that it was hard to tell. Several mechanical arms twitched at the Cyborg's arrival, and a low hum indicated that something more mobile was watching from the shadows.

"Professor," started the Cyborg.
"No need for formalities. I know why you are here. Jardin Kuiper said, a harsh, inhuman voice filling the gaping cavern.
"Yes, I figured as such...so, what are your plans, Jardin?"
"A technology that has eluded us for years is finally available to us...with this FTL travel, we could finally establish independent vectors of resource gathering. The Belt would be open to us...we would not have to worry about piracy on our vessels...even Mercury would be within our grasp."
That last statement left the two of them in silence for an uncomfortable few seconds. The implication of the Oort Cloud being able to have such ease of access to those resources...it was thrilling.
But what of expansion further into the Oort Cloud? We'd have the resources to do so, but lack the manpower..."
"Indeed, that is why the cloning projects are underway...we also have those black sites at our disposal."
"Yes, I guess we do. In any case, I have a fleet to command. Farewell, old friend."

And with that, the Cybercrat departed, leaving Kuiper to his own devices.

[Beutarch]

[1] Today is New Year's Eve (Terran Holiday). Please note that company policy does not permit leaving the workplace early.
[2] All members of the Advanced Research and Technology Division must read the memorandum concerning Tounkara Dossier.
End of message.

---

The UN had screwed up.

There was no other way to put it, thought Joan Hatano. Close to a decade of fruitless work, a full year of speculation surrounding the energy burst, and the event that validates her life's work was one disillusioned Terran. Undoubtedly now dead, that one Terran had exposed major secrets surrounding a very important project. Project Lead Research-Engineer Hatano did not know whether to be irate or thankful. For nearly all of Hatano's years with Masotomo, the amount of funding and size of the team assigned to researching FTL travel was minimal. She had suspected for many months that her Divisional Supervisor had 'promoted' her into a dead-end assignment. Despite her feelings towards the Terran, she could not question the fact that they had saved her career. Before Hatano had even heard the name "Tounkara," her security clearance had been raised three levels and was informed that her program's budget had been quadrupled.

The memorandum thrown together by the company's internal security department was bare bones and more of an attempt to prevent employees from doing anything similar to what Tounkara had done to the UN than a proper scientific analysis. That part, she assumed, would be her first assignment. Her new clearance allowed her unrestricted access to the internet, consequently it was not hard to find an unedited version of the Dossier. As she was opening the first result of her query, the corner of her desk lit up with a notification.

Someone is at the door. Open? Y/N

Before she could check the external camera of her office or give consent to the notification, the door slid open. Light from the hallway spilled into the otherwise dark room, exposing its cramped size and awkward triangular shape. Hatano preferred to labor in the dark, it took her mind off of the fact that her desk-space was reduced to accommodate a storage room, just beyond the longest of the triangle's walls. Still only lit from the back, the darkened figure that coerced her door to open entered the office.

"Overheads on," said the figure, the lights immediately flooding the room around him. His uniform was non-descriptive, could have been from a junior technician in Hatano's department, but the sidearm around his chest betrayed the fact that he was with the Operations Directorate, Masaotomo's internal security bureau. Hatano took the liberty of closing the door, while the man pushed a file from his cybernetic HUD onto the desk in front of the two of them.

"What is this?"

"You know full well what this is. I have been sent to make sure you are aware of the importance of this project, and to give you this: a complete set of the Tounkara Dossier, unchanged by external variables, along with all the data we were able to scrape from the UN's transmissions concerning the energy burst, Tounkara and now this 'Project Wayfinder.' Your clearance has been raised so that I may give you these, not so that you can traipse around the internet unprotected and unknowing of the danger of such a space. Until you receive your foreign-intelligence evaluation training, I suggest you keep to the corporate intranet," the man said sternly. He flipped through the pages of the document, pointing out key points along the way.

"This project is being overseen by the Executive himself, he intends to repent for the mistakes of the past. Masatomo did not participate in the Outer Gold Rush, but this technology will provide the means for a Rush of far greater potential," he finished.

"I will do my best."

"Send your requests for new staff to the Directorate, not Human Resources. Absolute secrecy must be maintained, we will not make the same mistake the UN did. I hope your best is enough, Project Lead."

With that said, the man departed from Hatano's office. She immediately extinguished the overheads, her desk and monitor the only remaining sources of light. The researcher rubbed her temples, beginning to digest the technical jargon held by Tounkara's attachments. The numbers on her desk's clock swirled by, what she had planned to mark down as overtime stretched into her rest period. Instinctively, she reached under the desk, groping for the box of tablets taped to the underside. Peeling the adhesive back, she took out and dry-swallowed two of the box's contents. Eyes forced open with artificial potency, she quickly slapped the box back into place and returned to reading the contents of the report.

She read of fusion reactors and wayfinder and warship schematics and UNTRAI specifications and wayfinder and Alpha Centauri probes and wayfinder and Wayfinder and ... Way ... Wayfinder ...

---

"Don't fucking drop that!"

Dispatch Officer Bainer shrieked at one of the sailors, sending an electric pulse through his baton for added effect. The move to Vesta had been rocky at best, the sheltered Masatomo employees collectively experienced several phases of culture shock in the few first hours they touched down on the rock. Typically sales and marketing teams would be the only ones interacting with the outside world in any meaningful way, but the quick growth of the operation on Vesta demanded a larger corporate presence. Bainer, for one, enjoyed the change of scenery and the opportunity to use his baton instead of his keyboard. His reports were due within the next six hours, but he was confident he would be able to secure an extension on the grounds that he was prudently disciplining an unruly sailor.

The sailor in question nearly jumped back up the gangway when he heard the officer, but regained his composure and stepped down onto the platform. A diverse array of sights and smells laid out before him on the Vestae dock, but he and his colleagues had been conscripted for a simple job. Pick up the boxes of munitions and carry them into secure storage within the Masatomo facility while the transport bots are getting put online, then return to the ship. Plus, if he wouldn't even make it to a noodle stand before a baton came thundering down at him if he drifted off.

The line of unhappy sailors and irritable guards stretched from the edge of Vesta's spaceport to the nearby MSL. regional facility. Other residents of the commercial block complained of the disturbance caused to traffic, but the issue was soon resolved when the transport automatons replaced the sailors and neatly conformed to the hustle and bustle of the block. The MSL. building was squat and outwardly quite stark, the only noticeable features being the door and a modestly sized "MASATOMO SYSTEMS" sign. Windows had been forsaken in exchange for added security, for both incoming and outgoing damage. The frontal section of the building was the equivalent of a show floor, constructed to resemble an old-world gun store, complete with a shooting range capable of simulating each catalogued product. The rear of the building served as a common area for MSL. employees, in addition to offices and a limited number of accommodations for the higher-ups. Off-site housing was provided for the majority employees, however, with a dedicated transportation service to limit outside contact. It was agreed that the technicians could not be trusted to use public transport to traverse the expanse of Vesta efficiently.

Within the office space, across from Officer Bainer's desk, resided the ranking member of the sales team, Charles Mizuno. He was an amiable sort, and unlike his colleagues, had traveled extensively, on Vesta and elsewhere. As of now, his goal was to create and formalize a deal with the Vestae concerning their military hardware, specifically their purchasing of such equipment. Reaching out to his Vestae affiliate, he requests that a representative of the Federal Republic come to the MSL. facility.

[Bentus]

The Saturnian Co-Prosperity Sphere
Ganesa, Titan
Co-written by The Empire of Tau and Bentus

---

The dancers filled the stage with their practiced movements, their every step delivered with a practiced precision and grace. Adorned in traditional costumes and stamping their bare feet in time to the instrumental soundtrack that accompanied their musical play, the performers held the riveted attention of the theatre’s gathered dignitaries and cameras. Seated beside his father, Kanada maintained a pleasant smile as his eyes followed the choreographed drama that played out before them. The dancers - men and women - presented their Natyam to the audience, with their facial expressions, movements and musical support all working in perfect harmony to convey a cohesive tale. It was an intoxicating art style, which sought to entirely immerse the senses.

He ignored the countless lenses that were trained on his position, knowing full well that they would be monitoring his every reaction. The attention was hardly novel to the Crown Prince at this point, and he had long ago learned how to control his expression and visible emotions in such public gatherings. Sitting to his right, the Emperor’s sagely face wore a soft smile as he nodded along happily to the music. On his left, the soft features of his wife also followed along with the performance, her hand resting lightly on the growing bump in her belly. Further along still, were dignitaries from the other Saturnian moons. The meeting had been meticulously planned, with every moment as carefully choreographed as the Natyam. The Emperor had insisted that no expense be spared to welcome Titan’s honoured guests, not when they had all gathered for such momentous talks. Though Kanada couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that their guests wouldn’t have been able to grasp the full experience of the performance. Having originally emerged as numerous styles back on the Indian continent on Earth, the art form had not stood still over the centuries.

The story being depicted - although still rooted in the Hindu traditions of Old Earth - took on new meaning with the Unity’s teachings, blurring the lines between the faiths to portray a common message of harmony and community. This transformation could most powerfully be felt by those in the audience who were themselves connected to the Unity. Empathic projectors dotted through the stadium amplified the dancers’ carefully controlled emotions, and Kanada could physically feel the vibrant colours and currents that they swirled through their minds - entrancing their audience with just as much mental finesse as physical grace.

Suddenly, the lights seemed to dim and focus on a single performer. Having been depicting the lead role in the story so far, the single woman stepped forward as the dance’s climax approached. The music’s tempo seemed to pick itself up, adopting a whole new sense of volume as the young woman’s movements seemed to hold the stage captive. Watching his younger sister execute her Nritya with nothing less than excellence, Kanada felt a surge of pride swell up in his chest. The music continued to build up with the dance’s pace, until finally the climactic conclusion arrived. All at once, the stage became filled with the whole troupe once more, all dancing and moving with joyous steps to signify the main character’s discovery of her rightful place within her community. When the music ended with one last triumphant burst of energy, the crowd immediately erupted with a rapturous applause. Standing out of his seat along with those around him, Kanada had to disguise a proud smirk as he watched his sister step forward and take her well-earned bow.

As the lights began to fade back in for the whole stage, the ceremonies were steadily being brought to a close. A slight sigh escaped from the Prince’s lips as he knew that the pomp and revelry would be coming to a close, with the hard work of negotiations and policy waiting around the corner. Despite his best efforts, he had been unable to sleep much the night before. Even if he was no longer a stranger to the matters of state and governance, and had been working on this treaty with his father from the beginning, he felt queasy now that it had come so close to being a reality. Standing from his seat to allow himself to be ushered along with the other dignitaries to the next room, he turned to see his father offering him a soft smile. Blinking in surprise, Kanada realised that he must have let some of his tumultuous thoughts slip. Offering the old man a smirk in return, the Crown Prince shook his head as he turned towards the exit, ready and willing for the work that would come next.

---

The Crown Prince had the duty of figuring out foreign policy with their nearby neighbor, Etrijan. Robin Thomson, current President of Etrijan and head of the Democratic-Republican Party had just arrived at the meeting room, along with his department heads. What is more, the biggest Etrijan corporations also were present at the meeting as well. Recent scandals had made Robin unable to win the next election in the following two months and will likely not be returning to meet the Crown Prince. While that may be, Robin is no idiot in the matters of foregin policy. The discovery of Faster-than-Light travel has spurred the Thomson administration to quickly act. Within a matter of hours the Secretary of State, Linda Fields, had contacted nearly all the Saturn moons for a meeting on the topic of the Asa Tounkara’s FTL leak. The gears of bureaucracy turned faster than normal for this discovery. It was not long that Robin and his department secretaries moved onto a ship and traveled to Titan so fast.

Upon receiving the Etrijans’ request for the historic meeting, the Emperor had spared no expense in the lavish preparations. Even if the meeting room was subdued in comparison to the performers and parades that had greeted the delegates on their arrival, it was still an expansive and impressive space. A long, flawlessly textured oak table - almost certainly carved from an original stock imported from old Earth - sat in the room’s center, while synthetic-leather chairs had been positioned around it. Elegant pillars curved upwards from the floor, framing the room aesthetically and giving it a feeling not unlike a modernised cathedral or palace. Even the artificial lighting - a necessity considering how buried the room was within the city - had been crafted to enhance this effect, streaming in as it did through what appeared to be a stained glass window depicting a scene from one of the Unity’s scriptures.

Everyone from Etrijan wore a black suit, red tie, and an underlying white shit. Robin himself sat in the middle, left side of the table. Next to him, immediate right, is the Secretary of Defense, Alex Moore, a well-known figure within the Etrijan political scene as he managed to stay in office for the past four administrations of different parties, for the past twenty years. If anything, the Crown Prince likely knows of this man the best because Moore’s past interactions with the Emperor in the field of defense and security that concerned both nations. Moore is a black man, bald, no facial hairs to be seen, tall, brown eyes, long slender fingers, large frame, decent smooth skin, thick eyebrows. In the media, More is often seen as a cold calculating man who formulates defense policy behind closed doors. In reality, most like people in office, he sits behind a desk with a cup of coffee in hand; he reads and analyzes stacks of papers and reports sent to him. He is a cheerful lad, surprising after all those years in office, and has a family of four kids. Moore is also best known as the best person for dad jokes and crappy puns that involve pirates and pizza.

To the immediate left of Robin is the Secretary of State, Linda Fields, another veterans in politics and in carrying out Etrijan foreign policy. Like Moore, Fields is a long-time player in the Etrijan political game; she served ten years so far into her executive political career as the head of the State Department. Fields is well-known for many forgein programs and treaties and is better known as the person who maintained the relationship between Etrijan and the Mandate, leading to his meeting. In the homefront, Fields has kept up on not trying to demonize the Mandate too hard and instead proves a more “lightly” image of the Mandate. Sadly, that is easier said than done as portraying a religious dictatorship as not as bad does not go with the culture, political system, and values of Etrijan. Fields looks to be older than Moores, wrinkled skin, smaller frame, glasses, white female, green eyes, bad posture, short black hair up to her neck.

After these two are the rest of the department secretaries, the newer ones of the Robin administration that are likely to be removed from office as Robin’s leaves, unlike Moores and Fields who can use their political maneuvering, connections, and expertise to stay in office. Homeland Security, Treasury, corporate powers and then the head of the Office of Science and Technology Policy were here too. All of them wait in the room, awaiting for the Prince and whoever is to come.

As if on cue, the hall’s doors slid open to reveal the smiling and wizened features of Emperor Dyananda. Dressed in a curt version of the royalty’s formal attire, the man dismissed his escort with a gentle wave of his hand as he approached the table. With his slight limp almost entirely hidden by his genetic and cybernetic treatments, the Emperor was beaming as he reached out to offer the Etrijan President his hand. “Mr. President, it is a pleasure to welcome you to Titan. I apologise for the delay in our arrival.” After shaking Thomson’s hand, the Emperor gestured behind him towards the other man that was joining them. “This is my son, Crown Prince Kanada. We have both been studying your proposal quite intently with our advisors, and I must say that it is an ambitious vision.”

Nodding politely as he was introduced, Kanada smiled as he took his own seat, waiting for his father to slowly lower himself beside him. Turning towards the Etrijan delegates, the Prince spoke. “We are very much interested in hearing more about your planned treaty, Mr. President, and the Mandate hopes that this meeting will serve as a foundation for more detailed discussions between our two governments. But to start out we decided it was best for the talks to approach the matter with broader strokes, if that is alright with you and your team?”

“Understable, but we must first speak on the matter of faster than light travel as it is the sole reason that we have come to meet here today...besides from other issues at hand.” Robin nods to Moores as the Secretary of Defense hands over a yellow folder. Robin takes out his glass case, opens it, and wears his reading glasses.

“As you come to understand, Asa Tounkara had leaked out schematics for a prototype for a FTL drive. This is the biggest discovery of humanity that we have seen.” Robin opens his folder, revealing classified documents of Etrijan’s computer results on the matter. He hands them over to the Emperor and Kanada.

“Our scientists have run computer simulations to test the validity of these leaked reports and our results do not lie to us. This is an operational FTL drive schematic.”

“Of course, it is not exactly a proven engine yet, mainly a proof of concept. Simply said, we wish to make a FTL-committee. A joint-project between our nations to capitalize on these schematics. What do you say?” Robin folds his hands and awaits an answer from the Emperor and or Kanada.

Kanada’s smile wavered at the mention of the fallen UN researcher. The public broadcast, transmitted across the system from Pluto to Mercury, had caught all of humanity off guard. It was a conspiracy that wouldn’t have been out of place in even the most xenophobic war rooms of the Cold War. The United Nations - that ageing colonial power that had sought to bring the entire solar system under its jackboot - had been developing a superweapon in secret, a new technology that it would have used to wage war and rain death on anyone that would stand against it. And all while attempting to portray itself as a reformed, humanitarian democracy.

“It is difficult to understate the gravity of this discovery.” The Emperor replied, though his eyes adopted a crestfallen tone. “It is only a shame that the brave mind that sought to avert its misuse couldn’t survive to see the benefits his work will offer our mankind.”

As his father replied, the Crown Prince took the offered documents and began to scan their contents with a meticulous eye. Dyananda had tasked him with organising the Mandate’s response to the leak, and he’d thrown his full weight at the challenge. He’d been meeting daily with research scientists, engineers, geopolitical analysts and diviners working to unravel the potential impacts of this new engine.

“Our own simulations agree with your results.” Kanada replied, offering the documents back to the Etrijan. Bringing up the holographic display built into the table before him, he swiped with his hand to send images of the Mandate’s own findings to the other delegates. “But to say that our engineers have deciphered its workings would be optimistic. As it stands, we know that the United Nations is seeking to weaponize this technology, and that they have a headstart worth years on its implementation.” Glancing towards his father to receive a subtle nod of approval, the Crown Prince continued.

“Pooling our resources would be logical, and it would serve as a powerful symbol to the rest of the system that we would all benefit from collaborating with this new technology, rather than hoarding it for ourselves. In fact, might I propose that we expand your idea of a joint-project to include other parties in the Outer System? We have a history of research cooperation with the Cyberocracy, especially, and if we were to take the step of making most of our findings public, we could even put pressure on other parties to do the same. Doing so would help prevent any single power from gaining a monopoly on the drive, while highlighting its potential as a tool for peace rather than war.”

“Of course. We do plan to involve the other nations as well. Sadly, you won’t see me the next time after this meeting. Current political and domestic issues have the likely chance that I won’t be reelected.” Robin pauses and coughs on his shelvee, cleans up his throat.

“I am sure that the next president will continue to support our relationship between our two nations….Also, we would like to sign a defense treaty.” Robin nods towards Moore. The Secretary of Defense leans forward.

“You know the phrase. If you want peace, prepare for war as one would say in Rome. Tensions may spark once again with the discovery of FTL. We wish to avoid being caught unprepared by the other powers in the system.” Moore says as he looks to the Emperor.

The Emperor nodded at the President’s words. “I appreciate that your democratic system of governance is not as...stable...as ours, but I respect its wishes. For what it’s worth, Mr. President, I believe that your people will be losing a talented representative.” Pausing for a moment, the older man turned his attention back to the diplomatic matters at hand. “As for the matter of a defensive treaty, we are in agreement. Irregardless of this new drive, tensions are rising across the solar system and we would be stronger standing together against any potential aggressors.”

“It might also be worthwhile extending such an arrangement to include a stated intention to deter any colonial enterprises within the Saturnian system as a whole.” Kanada added. “As the two most powerful worlds around the planet, we are the only ones with the capability to stand up to the other major powers. By making out intention to guard the independence and sovereignty of Saturn as a whole, we’d make it clear that we won’t tolerate any actions against our weaker neighbours.”

“Indeed, we will ensure that treaties are signed officially in the following weeks and the FTL-committee schedule will be sorted in the next few days. Make sure that you send your brightest. Our Secretary of State, Fields, will be here to detail more about the agreements between us.”

“In the meanwhile, I have another meeting to attend on the issue of national security concerns.” Robin waves to Moores as both men stands up, nods to Dyananda and Kanada, and then leaves.

[Volghar]

Cooktown Station, Cooktown-Illiad Region, Allied Free Ports
Europa

Mohammed O’Brian hated Cooktown, the whole fucking station reeked of desperation and corruption. Even the name held echoes of hatred and disgust with the past. A battle by the Antipodean Brotherhood in Queensland against the UN, a battle that the Brotherhood had lost. The convict stock who had become the backbone of the colony had renamed the station the second that Europa had declared itself free of Earth. The backbone of the second largest power in the AFP would never shake its roots, the children of criminals from Glasgow and Cairns, who had turned criminal themselves when thrust into the frozen depths of the void. Now they were criminals with a government charter, the second largest charter on the planet.

Mohammed stood out in his dress blues, a sign at the attempt that Galileo and Hannibal were making to play at being a civilised world filled with civilised people. And the pirates of Cooktown pissed it all away. Mohammed understood the necessity of pirates and privateers, they were the backbone of Europa’s economy and culture, but he also knew more than anything that discretion was king in that game. Cooktown flaunted it. The Sons of Zeus had ceased their purpose when the black flag went up and the blue flag went down, they should never have evolved into becoming a major political faction in the Ecclesia.

Mohammed idly chewed on his nicotine gum, letting the chemicals flow into his brain. He knew that the Inners enjoyed smoking tobacco, that was a god damn death sentence on a planet like Europa. He had a glass of ice water as well, but it sat on the glass table afore him, collecting condensation from the recycled air. The office he found himself on this auspicious day had belonged to the Earther in charge of overseeing the ice mining across the entirety of the moon. As such it had the paintings that so many of the azraqs were prone to hang up. Wide open vistas of sunsets, forests and beaches on their home planet. They were a weak people, unaccustomed the rigours of a life among the stars. The mementos of their home had become trophies of liberation following Europan independence. The lovingly recreated view of a wheat field was obviously the prize, a sick reference to Europa’s own tendency to fall to famine when food was cut off from the other worlds.

If Jove was a backwater to the inner planets, and Europa was the backwater of Jove, then Cooktown was the backwater of Europa. The ass-end of the greatest planet in the system, and Peter Grey was the king of that ass.

Peter Grey, the Administrator of the Cooktown-Illiad Region, and head of the Sons of Zeus. The pale man sipped at his imported Earther scotch, his eyes betraying a terrifying cunning. They sat in darkness, the windows drawn shut, the cameras all cut off. By all means, this meeting was not happening. The Antistratigos of the Allied Free Ports, second only to the Administrator of Galileo, prominent in the Moderate faction, meeting with the most famed radical on the moon. The two men were not blind in the dark, they both wore the meson scanners that had become so synonymous with the Outer working classes. It was ironic in many ways, the working class look betraying the uniforms both men wore. Sure, Grey would not put on the blues of the AFPDF, but he did wear his own white synth-leather jacket, a symbol of the Sons of Zeus in its own right.

“This changes everything, sadiq,” Grey smirked, his heavy Cooktown accent covering his every word.

“We must not be hasty,” Mohammed responded, “the UN… the Inners they will be under high alert now, sadiq.”

“Fuck the inners!” Grey laughed heavily, “do you know what we can do with FTL? The future belongs to the outer planets now! Think of how this can revolutionise weaponry, revolutionise industry.”

“I agree, trust me, friend, but we must urge caution. We cannot risk angering the Earth once more,” Mohammed responded, “Weaponry shall be the least of our worries. We must first understand how this technology works, I assure you that Galileo is already underway with our own science teams. I do not hesitate to doubt that Mars at the least will use this as an opportunity to create new missiles to point at our heads, but we must not draw first blood.”

“We will not draw first blood, we cannot. But know this, the very system of counterbalances that has been so painstakingly been created by the azraqs and ahmars has fallen to dust overnight. This is the greatest technological achievement since the discovery of fire, Prometheus has stepped down himself to destroy the status quo. We must seek out our place, our future is in our grasp. For once, sadiq, for once we can truly be free of foreign hands. Our ancestors were beaten by the slave-master’s hand, then they seized the whip, now, now we can destroy the whip!”

“Grey, you are proposing war.”

“Heavens above, no, I am doing no such thing. I am proposing that we use this to our advantage. We must not strike against the inners. But… But this is opportunity. We must present a united front. I agree, for once, peace is obtainable.”

“So what would you have us do? What would you ask of the moderates, of Galileo?”

“I would ask that for once, Cooktown and Galileo work together. Fuck the other planets, this is not the time for petty squabbles, I assure you that the UN will be panicking. Luna and Mars are already chomping at the bit to become the new power in the system, they have been for generations now. Lest we not forget the kronies playing at being inners,” the vitriol was so heavy on Grey’s tongue he was almost spitting, “I am offering you our support, sadiq. A unified front, for once. You know that Galileo needs Cooktown if you have any hope of ever turning the Ports into little more than an agreement of mutual defence. Stone the bloody crows, O’Brian, I am offering you what the moderates have been dreaming of for years, public support from the Sons!”

Mohammed merely chewed at his gum, processing the diatribe of information that he had just received. For generations, Europa had been divided, only somewhat unified by a mutual hatred of the inner planets after centuries of oppression. That division had destroyed any chances the moon had at being taken seriously by the remainder of the system, and now, before him was the leader of the men holding them back offering to fall into line. For once, the best way to strike back at the inners aligned with what was best with the AFP’s development. It was all far to be good to be true, and he didn’t believe a word of it.

Regardless, Mohammed smiled at Grey, and swallowed his gum as his forefathers had done for years. The Galilean raised his glass of water and smiled, “Let this be the beginning of a beautiful future. To Europa.”

“To Peace.”

The two men clinked glasses, “To Jove!”

[Greater Redosia]

Mercury, Hero Rupes
Mobile Mining Station Neo

"Slowly...Slowly..For gods sake I'm telling you to go slower!" the on board radio system was transmitting the voice of the Station Manager into the heads of all the workers on the outside, but it was currently being directed to the crew of the crane that was lifting up a large container full of valuable titanium ore, the kind needed to produce more ships. "If that drops, that will be yet another container lost this week! We do not have the resources to be wasting iron or other metals on simple mistakes, your great great great grand father operated this very machine so you will treat her with the respect she deserves!" the Station Manager was getting sick with this next generation of workers, who feel less and less willing to work. But slowly with dedication and a smile on the manager's face, the crane lifted the container and hauled it to the drop off point on the mobile station, with a clap the manager eased up a bit, "There you go. You're an emulation of your father when I was working with him on the crane, dropped one his first time and started to cry because he didn't know what to do. Alright, you all go on your break for now, we'll pick it up in an hour."

After the crew finally stopped laying about and went back into the station, the manager looked out at the rocky ocean that was his home. Watching the miners scan the terrain of the rupes with resource detectors and the drill rovers being driven by dedicated veterans of the job, with the sun only barely on the horizon it was the perfect time for the job. But it was break for the manager too, so he left the control bridge and made his way to the personal office. Closing the ancient wood door as it squeaked loudly with the need of oil, sitting down in the chair that had tears on the side the manager brought up the computer. A beauty from the 2290s, one of the most advanced on any of the station rovers. Leaning closer to the ancient holographic screen he also looked down at the keyboard..."Alright lets see..." As he types, he speaks to himself, "Dultsev...Romanovich.." He stared at the password as he started to make faces, Dultsev trying to remember his password, looking around the room he quickly spotted his cat poster and smiled in sudden realization. "Aha! Right. Kittykat341." Just like that, the computer opened and he leaned back, exploring his way through the usual duties and bringing up the news.

"Good day to all workers of Mercury, Let us begin with the basics...Currently production of all resources is reaching an all time low as working hours continue to shrink over time, while a resource crisis is far from the imaginations of anyone, there is deep concern in the medical community on Mercury that this continues to be a direct correlation with the growing depressed population and suicide rates over the past few decades. One therapist stating, "I have so many patients that even I cannot keep my files organized and have time for myself. It has become so problematic that I've been recommending them to other therapists not because they are better but because they are free." With local investigation, planetary census and reports from several doctors, it is estimated that almost fifty five percent of the population is diagnosed with depression and that estimates will project it to rise to at least sixty-seven percent by the end of the decade. In other news-" It was there the computer suddenly shut off and the holographic visual disappeared, Dultsev groaned in annoyance and looked down at the device, thinking of just opening it up to see the problem, instead he just smacks it once with his hand and it comes back to life. Prompting him to reenter his password and username, with a groan he does so and goes back to his duty as Station Manager.

General Manager's Bridge, North Pole
New Years Day

"And such, we've been given access to the FTL drive and if we were capable of doing so, could retrofit our fleet to use such a device."

Zofia Sowinska, the General Manager of the entire planet stared at her politburo member of science, He was once again making a fool of himself. "That is splendid to hear Dmitri..But we do not have the resources nor the capacity to produce ships like that. We also have more pressing matters to discuss, Dr. Malk, please tell me about the current health situation." She waited a moment to hear a reply, but Zofia looked worried, "Dr. Malk?" She turned to look around the room. WAtching as the other members of the politburo were silent and looking towards the floor, not wishing to meet eye contact with the General Manager. "What's wro-"

"She was found in her room this morning..." spoke one of the minor members, quiet but decisive and it hit the Manager hard.

"How was she..?"

"She was hanging from the ceiling when we found her ma'am, a note was found..we found it best to keep it from you...except her final request of being launched into the sun as was her family's tradition."

The General Manager was in shock, slowly she just looked down and felt her insides ache and her brain slow down to a crawl as she stopped trying to process anything, it was simply too much. She waved her hand towards the politburo, "Give her the send off she deserves, the funeral driver should be opened and she will get her wish. Get the sub-committee member of the health department to come in here...They are being promoted to fill the vacancy." with a nod they left. After a few hours of grief being wallowed in and the preparations for the launch being made, the politburo returned with the new member of the politburo who was nervous at the sudden promotion. "Now tell me, what is the current health situation."

"Well..as you heard from the news depression in the population is rising at rates unforeseen ever, no other planet should have a rate like this. We've conducted investigations...and well...Most of it consists of lack of ambition and meaning in life. Mercury does not have much to offer but work, but take the meaning out of that work and where does it leave you? Our medical staff on the planet is not large enough for the population and there is a huge need of improvement of the diversity of entertainment and....an actual means of doing something. Which, me and the politburo discussed."

The General Manager was surprised, leaning back in her chair she looked out across the politburo, "Well? What is the solution?"

"Well ma'am, we suggest that we send a group of vessels, about two per group, to the other inner planets in the system. Mercury cannot survive on her own and we need someone to give our life meaning and to take our resources, our storage units are being filled faster than we can use and expand them. As such, several solar sailing ships shall take refined helium-3 and other resources outward to Venus, Earth and Mars. This can be shown as a gift and our wish to trade. We can send representatives, our fellow politburo members to discuss trade of resources between us. The politburo member of agriculture has noted our hydroponic farms will not have the capacity as long as these levels of slothfulness continue, as such, we will find our prosperity with trade again. Just like the early settlers support Earth, we can be like that again."

Zofia sat there for a moment, the pain in her chest still keeping it horribly tight but it was eased with this proposition. A means to stop things like what happened with Dr. Malk from happening, it is what she would've wanted. It was just painful she took herself away from Zofia. "Go ahead, you are given permission to launch ships to sail to the outer planets of the inner core. Mercury will survive and we can thrive once more, we are the planet who is with the sun, no one has the determination to survive or the toughness of a Mercurian. We can restore what our ancestors had for us!" They saluted and some cheered, others simply had smiles on their faces as purpose was coming back into their lives.

[Northern Poland]

Level 24, Engineering Block 2.
Senior Engineer Rohn Erikson looked at the message that had just been spread to the entire human race, amazed at how far humanity had come. Other engineers looked on, as they marveled at its complexity and the idea in itself. Some engineers tried to understand them, while others just talked about the 3rd golden age of colonization, and how there was going to be another manifest destiny. They knew that they would be called up to help design a new model of colonization ship, and maybe some warships while they were at it. The contracts were going to flood in, and they were all going to be rich men by the end of this.

These engineers, along with ship designers, were mustered in a barren room in the sprawling mass of the Sub-levels. They were soon accompanied by engineers from around Vesta, along with officials from NerV Naval technologies. The men were informed of their task, to reverse engineer the FTL drive that had been supplied to the Sol system by the UN scientist. Salaries would be raised trifold, along with an added layer of secrecy. Development of a Vesta made FTL drive, and ships that could carry it, where top priority in the eyes of the Administration. They were led to a rather unassuming dock at the main spaceport, in view of the MSL ship unloading. They boarded an unassuming transport shuttle. Once they, got their equipment from the barracks in the Engineering and shipbuilding facilities, and a few Coast Guard Personnel boarded, it took off. It stayed In the belt region, but no one really knew where exactly.

3rd Sector, Vesta Defense Grid.
An Ensign looked up from his station, at the Rear Admiral sitting at the command seat. He spoke, "Sir, an unidentified ship is attempting to land near Pad 2-1, about 130 meters in length, 30 meters in diameter, it has an array of weapon systems, and they seem ready to go." The Rear-Admiral looked up, and responded, "Hail it on an open channel, ready cannons 2-4, and get a fighter squadron on call. The Ensign nodded, "Channel opened, Rear Admiral." A man's face popped up on the display board, flanked by a set of two crewmembers, obviously bridge crew. "Unidentified ship, register yourself with the Vesta Defense Command or be obliterated where you sit. You have unidentified cargo, as well as readied weapons systems. Power down and proceed to internment Pad 4-2, you will be towed by Vestan tugs." The captain of the smuggling ship didn't respond and closed the channel rather quickly. The Ensign looked up, "Engines are powering up, and weapons are turning towards the landing zones." The Rear Admiral looked at this on the display board, "Immobilize that ship, get Security forces on standby for boarding actions immediately." The Ensign nodded, and the cannon was given the green light and fired at the engine section. The ship faltered, falling towards the rock, where the tugs on standby caught it, and where met by cannon fire from the ship. A Coast Guard Destroyer crept up, firing a salvo of boarding torpedos. These torpedos landed on the 2nd deck, where the VSF soldiers stormed out, meeting armed smugglers and criminals. Lt. Mira raised her L-2345, firing a 3 round burst into a smuggler drawing his sidearm. The soldiers found cover among the cargo, opening fire on the shocked crewmembers, cutting many down. A crew member hit Mira with the butt of his rifle, before being knocked over by a punch to his solar plexus. Mira fired her rifle at the hip, striking him in the lower torso, sending him sprawling to the floor. The remaining unarmed crew surrendered and were taken to the bunks area of the ship. The rest of the VSF personnel swept the remainder of the ship, finding nobody else, but finding many launched lifeboats.

Vesta Prime
A few native NerV employees heckled the new arrivals, but most simply stayed out of the way of the people moving and setting up shop. Some complained about interruptions, but it wasn't really that bad. The traffic was never really that bad, as most things were in walking distance of the hab-blocks. As per the MSL request, a Brigadier General and an Aide De Camp were ferried to the new location of the Belt office, near downtown Vesta Prime. The staff car pulled up to the main entryway of the building, and the duo got out. They walked to the door and the Brig. General entered the showroom portion of the building, looking around the area.

[Theyra]

Republic of Io
New Kabul
Presidential Meeting room

"This changes everything Mr President", said the Minister of Science and Technology. "With this FTL technology, we can travel far within the system and we can retrofit our ships to use it. She brought up a hologram of the FTL drive using her personal tech-gauntlet that was connected to the table's holographic projector. "Imagine the possibilities for Io and our people". The minister sounding very enthusiastic about the whole thing. This meeting had been called to address new developments

While the President of Io, Kaiwan Jalali was not that thrilled. "While I find that newly found FTL technology is a step forward for humanity, Minister Turkhel. Not all the changes this drive brings are good and what we can do with it. Kaiwan dismissed the drive hologram and brought up a hologram of the Inner Worlds. "With this technology in their hands of the Inner Worlds, their ships can reach the Outer Worlds faster than ever before. Who knows what they will do once they have FTL capable ships".

Then another voice spoke up, this time from the Minister of War Arash Najafi, "If the Inner Worlds plan on re-affirming their control over the Outer Worlds then we would be in a pickle. We do not have the numbers that the Inner Worlds have and I am not sure our odds during a war".

"No Minister Najafi", Kaiwan spoke, "I do not think that war would be that come that fast, though yes, in a war with the Inner Worlds, we would lose. We can not risk antagonizing the Inner Worlds, though we have other problems we need to deal with".

"You mean the Pillars Mr President? Asked Minister Najafi.

"Yes, we need to deal with them. They have been stepping up their raids on our trade ships, enough that they risk seriously disrupting trade". Kaiwan used his tech-gauntlet to bring up a picture of a mid-aged man, coffee colored skin, black short hair with a long beard. Along with a list of crimes under his picture. "Mayhar Rahija", Kaiwan spoke with anger in his voice, "The leader of the Pillars and who has eluded capture for decades. Minister Goli what progress have made on finding him?

"We are still trying to find him sir", the Minister of Intelligence sounding tired in her voice. "What we know that he has a base of operations somewhere and that he rarely leaves any loose ends. Though we have discovered several Pillar bases. Currently, we have forces deployed to deal with them and possibly find information about where their home base is".

"Good, and I want to be informed if you get any process made with finding Mayhar. In the meantime, keep up with pressuring the Pillars by taking out as many bases as you can find. It will be hard for a pirate to cause trouble if they have no safe zones for them. That and start the process of building new ships with the FTL drive, having ships with it is bound to be useful down the road". The meeting went on some more before it ended with the president with thoughts on his mind. Things have changed and the future is uncertain. If things get worse, then the president has some ideas to help prepare for them. For now, he will consider them and wait while things progress.

Ionian Space
Near Asteroid 4248-32

Two weeks, two long weeks, that is how long it has taken Captain Afsar Buledi to locate the latest group of the Pillars of the Way base. The Pillars are a centralized bunch, united under a single leader that branch out in different sects. Rarely do they all come together. Always a throne in the republic's side after kicking them out of Io years ago. To think that these pirates used be apart of Io and Afsar did not want to think what Io would be if the Pillars had their way. Io had been ruled by extremists before and never again would that happen. The Pillars being religious fanatics that want to make Io into their perfect world will make any kind of peace between the republic and the Pillars impossible and that will not change anytime soon.

This particular group of Pillars has been hindering trade along the Kalos trade route for some time now and now that Afsar has found their little base. Turns out the asteroid that the Pillars were using, used to be a mining facility before it was abandoned years ago. Afsar did not know for how long these Pillars have been living at the facility but, today will be their last day on that asteroid. Afsar had made sure that their approach to the asteroid had gone unnoticed. Though that will change soon and Afsar brought up a holographic interface in front of him and activated comms. "Captain Yalda, are your marines ready to begin?

A feminine voice came on, "Yes sir, ready and willing to evict some pirates from their base".

"Good, captain, you will be boarding the facility shortly once the space around the facility is secured". Afsar closed the commlink and looked ahead at his helmsmen. "Hamraz what are we getting on sensors? Any ships near the facility?

"I got one ship, a corvette by the looks of it and it looks like it is docked with the facility. I got nothing else on senors captain".

"Hmmm", Afsar crossed his arms, only a corvette? He was expecting more Pillar ships, maybe they were out raiding. This means that while he can not get all of the ships at once, he can still knock out this Pillar base. His ship a destroyer, the Huntress is more than a match against a single corvette. Still, they had to be on guard for if the other Pillar ships showed up. "Helmsmen, that base is bound to pick us up when we get closer, so bring us in fast to the facility. I want to reach the base before that ship escapes".

"Aye aye captain", the helmsmen replied and without another word, the destroyer changed from a slow drift to a fast charge. Soon the Pillars base would pick up the signs that a ship was approaching them. Alarms would go off and the pirate crew went to their stations. It took a while for the corvette to started up their engines and power their weapons. By the time the corvette had disconnected from the facility, the Huntress was in position to strike the corvette. The corvette fired first, launching an array of missiles at the Huntress. The Huntress's point-defense systems came online and fired their rounds at the incoming missiles. Scoring hits and at least one of the missiles hit the Huntress. Scoring minor damage to the hull, which the Huntress in return fired back. Instead of missiles, the ship's railgun fired and scored a direct hit on the corvette. The corvette tried to make a run for it but, the Huntress fired their railgun again. Seriously wounding the corvette and the Huntress fired once more to finish off the corvette. A direct hit damaged its fusion reactors and went critical. Causing the corvette to explode and the next phase of the operation was to begin.

Once Afsar deemed the area was secured, he brought up comms to Captain Yalda. "Captain you have a greenlight to begin operations".

"Good", she sad euthisically, "This should not take long".

"Remember Captain, search for any clues to the whereabouts to the Pillars main base and Mayhar Rahija".

"I remember and I will keep you updated as we progress through the facility".

"Copy that and good hunting". With that, he turned off comms and watched from the bridge as the transports lanch and make their way to the mining facility. While that was happening, the Huntress's scanners were operating at max, just in case, a Pillar ship would come back to the base. Twenty minutes went by and still no sight of any ships coming nearby, then Afsar got a transmission from Captain Yalda.

"This is Yalda, we have cleared the facility of Pillars and we captured some prisoners".

"Good, and did you find anything else?

"Negative, they destroyed any files they had within their systems, we clear for demo?

"Yes, set the charges and get back here, this is one base the Pillars with have less of".

"Copy that and over and out".

Prisoners, good maybe they can get some information out of them even though Pillar prisoners are notoriously known for being refusing to talk. Still one can hope that one of these prisoners knows something about Mayhar and their home base. The mission was a success than the less and once the marines were safely aboard the Huntress. The mining facility exploded in spectacular fashion, destroying it and the Huntress turned back to the direction of Io with its prisoners in tow. Another victory against the Pillars and one step closer to ending their threat.

[Tagali Federation]

New Years Eve, December 31st, 2349
Earth, American Pacific Northwest Administration Zone "Red"
Sector India, somewhere in the former state of Idaho


Artillery fire and air strikes sporadically echoed throughout the snow filled valley. Many of the remaining inhabitants now clogged the major travel routes, fleeing out of the war zone as UN convoys drove in to take their place. For the past three months, fighting between UN forces and local separatists had been centered in the town in the middle of the valley with skirmishes popping up along the periphery. The fighting was harsh, but was about to get worse for all involved as a blizzard was coming in.

Corporal Rashmi Ruta analyzed the large remnants of an animal, her suits reactive camouflage taking on the colors of the trees and snow to break up her silhouette. "Which species is this one?" Her Gunner Pieter Grobler said, the rest of the fireteam coming up behind him. "Grizzly, field dressed by the looks of it." She gave the hand gesture for her team to keep going along the mountain path. Their eyes were ever alert, but many of the combatants were now just trying to get to cover before the blizzard hit.

"I've heard they've become a pretty common in this shit hole." Designated Marksman Sanja Nimac chimed in. "They've been coming down from up North and Yellowstone for the past few centuries now since most people have started moving into the arcologies in the cities." Rifleman Mikko Varis dusted off some snow on his shoulder. "You're telling me. You know Curbelo, right? Flies medevac? He was telling me a while back of a run he did in some town up north. A Gurkha section up there was setting up in the ruins of one of those old restaurants. You know the ones, the ones with the arches. Anyway, one of their people was moving some debris and woke up a hibernating grizzly that was calling the place home. Poor bastards lost two people, never heard if they killed the beast."

Rashmi through up her hands for them to hault, immediately stopping her troops. "Look alive, civilian up ahead. Grobler, you're with me. Might need you to translate. Nimac, Varis, stay back and cover us." The team nodded and began to fufill their various instructions. Rashmi and Grobler approached the middle aged man as he was cutting wood. His features weathered by decades of working and living in the rugged backwater of the Pacific Northwest. Rashmi took notice of folk-like music playing inside the house, a tune that she couldn't place but she had heard from somewhere.

"Allo!" Rashmi yelled out to the man, waiving at the man to get his attention. The man waived back, seeming to understand what she was saying but appearing nervous. "Well Grobler, looks like you're up." Grobler nodded and walked up, speaking in a heavily South African English accent. The man seemed to be at ease once spoken to in his own language. The globe spanning "Terran Creole" that had become the lingua franca of Earth that had become a second language of many throughout the world never took hold in the isolated regions of the Red Zones such as the backwoods of Idaho.

Grobler nodded at the man as he made his way back towards Rashmi, making a face as he did so. "I recognize that, Pieter. What's happening?" Grobler looked over his shoulder as if expecting an ambush. "He says we can stay, and that his house is open to ANYONE staying out of the blizzard." Rashmi didn't like the sound of that. "What does "anyone" entail?" She questioned. "It's exactly what it sounds like. He's got a band of separatists held up in there waiting out the blizzard. Says his house is neutral ground."

Rashmi thought it over. "I don't like but what choice do we have? sensors are picking up that the blizzard is gonna hit us in within 45 minutes. We'll play nice, but stay alert. Don't hesitate to put them down if need be." Pieter nodded and gave the signal for Sanja and Mikko to come up.

The Man led the UN Marines into house, immediately greeting them with the sight of a band of separatists at the dining room table, their night of bear stew and merry singing of anti-UN songs disrupted by the presence of a marine fireteam entering the room. They were dressed in a plethora of ways, from civilian wear, to camouflaged hunting gear, to stolen UN equipment, much to the ire of Rashmi and her troops. Their weapons laid at their feet, ranging from antique AR-15s from the 21st century to illegal fire arms smuggled from the Belt.

Before a fight could break out, the man quickly herded Rashmi and company into the basement, a dingy place filled with web covered supply crates old holiday decorations. With the blizzard fully in motion over them, they made the best of their situation, moving some crates around their portable heater. All things considered, the basement was becoming quite comfortable. As they busted out their MREs, Mikko took off his helmet and and placed his hand terminal inside, creating a makeshift speaker in the hopes of drowning out whatever anti-globalist song they were playing upstairs with whatever music he downloaded before leaving Seattle.

"So, how long are we looking at waiting out this blizzard?" Sanja said, picking at her "gryo" flavored protein cube and packet rice. Rashmi began to rummage through her pack for something. "Advisory is till 3:45 AM." Rashmi tossed condiment packets around to the group. "Not much, but it should make the cubes a little more bearable. I want us out of here as soon as possible. We'll take turns on watch." Mikko grabbed one of the packets out of the air. "Where did you even get these packets? I thought a mix up meant we weren't getting any shipments until February?" Rashmi shrugged. "Remember that sandwich shop back in Coeur d'Alene? I traded some of our spare squad patches for them." Sanja gave her a puzzled look. "Is that even allowed?" Rashmi just shrugged her shoulders as she mixed in the condiments into her protein cubes. "I'll just tell Command that we lost them somewhere in the mountains." Grobler took his eyes off of the door for a second. "Command most likely won't miss them any-" He was cut off by the door swinging open, letting a grenade roll down the stairs. "EVERYONE DOWN!" Grobbler yelled, immediately diving on the grenade with hid body armor. A loud thunk erupted under Grobler, His armor taking most of the impact of the makeshift grenade. A few shards escaped from under him, flying straight into Mikko's face. The young Finnish man clutched his eye and collapsed onto the ground. Rashmi picked up her assault rifle and rushed over to the stairs. "Nimac, you're with me! Grobler, tend to him and call in Command!"

Rashmi and Sanja ran up the stairs, kicking open the door. Immediately, They came under fire from three separatists. Luckily for Rashmi and Sanja, the separatists were armed with old AR-15s and other 21st Century weapons. Rashmi and Sanji returned fire, Ripping through the separatists and then some "Clear!" Sanja barked as they moved onto the next room. Two more Separatists were the next room and were dispatched just as quickly. Below was the middle aged man, lying unconscious and bleeding from his head. "I remember there being one more. Take care of him, I'll search the rest of the house." Rashmi cleared the next two rooms with ease, only leaving the kitchen. As she entered, she was immediately greeted by fire from a Belt made gun, miraculously only grazing her suit as she immediately backed up behind a corner. With alerts on her visor blaring red, she went to return fire, only to be greeted by an exo-suit aided fist crashing into her helmet's visor. Rashmi was sent reeling back, getting a grip just in time to wrestle the Separatist's away from her face at the last minute.

They wrestled for a couple minutes, both of them unable to get the upper hand until Rashmi slammed her helmet protected head into the poor made protective visor of the separatist. The man clammored back, clutching his face now scarred and bloody by shattered glass. Rashmi faired slightly better, only cracking the visor slightly and a small headache. Suddenly, the Separatist began fumbling for a grenade, ready to kill both of them. Rashmi's eyes grew as she connected the dots on what he was gonna do. With her gun knocked on the ground, she pulled out her combat knife and charged the separatist, stabbing the separatist multiple times until he dropped the grenade. As the man stopped moving, Rashmi let go of the knife, slumping too the ground just as the dead man in front of her. Grobler began to speak over the comms. "Mikko is stable. Blizzard is keeping our birds out of the sky, but they'll be here once the weather clears out."

"Roger that." Rashmi replied, her breathing heavy. "Let them no we have a wounded civilian too." Rashmi decided to rest there, still catching her breath.

[Ithalian Empire]

The Chancellors Mansion
Opprotunity, Mars

"Of course the largest issue currently facing the Republic is the recent leak of Earths FTL project." said Andrey Ramickov, Chief Security Advisor, "We can say for certiean the our own FTL project was at least a year behind our Earth born counter parts."

The man sitting behind the desk looked at the data slate in front of him. He, like the rest of the room, had a regal feel about him. His features where worn, a deeply lined face with a crooked nose that sat behind to piercing blue eyes. He furrowed his brow and looked closer at the data slate before speaking, "What does this mean for Mars?"

"Well, sir," a voice belonging to a second man, dressed in the uniform of the Martian Navy said, " Mars will no be an par with Earth's."

"And so will every other power in the system," the old man furrowed his brow further, "Gentlemen, look outside of Mars. The Jovian moons, the Saturn system and the rest of the outer system have been the playthings of larger powers up until very recently, and even after they have lived in the shadow of the inner system power. Not any longer, they too will no be on an equal footing with us. This Asa Tounkara has falsely decided that they secured peace for the system, the naive fool as doomed us. Should another war spark in the Belt or beyond rest assured we will not be fitting ill equipped anarchists and backwards theocracies. Mars will be fighting equals and all future conflicts will be blood messy affairs."

The Chancellor of Mars, Robert Sauvageau, looked at his advisors. Each and everyone of them was an expert in there field, all responible for making sure there Chancellor understood the system at large and how his decisions would effect Mars. And here they sat, in silence, Kamu was not trying to argue a military rough, Ramickov haddent told the dark skinned admerial that a military action would be out of the question nor had the Finance and Economics Advisor tell him the cost of what ever they would do. The room was silent, waiting for the Chancellor himself to speak.

He stood, Robert was tall even compared to the Martian standard, "Send a dispatch to Ambassador Bruno Huffman in New York, I wish to have a conference with the Secretary General of the UN before his trip her at the end of the year, send one to Armstrong Station. Gentlemen, we are treading unfamiliar waters and once more the winds of change are coming to humanity. I would rather Mars does it with a few friends instead of a sea of enemies."

---

[Vacif]

Commander Augustus Kolb
AMGVS Ultima
Security Squadron Triumph
Sector Aletheia
December 24th, 2349, 0530, Terran Standard Time

---

Augustus yawned as he strode towards the command deck. It was a priority hail. Spark, the ship's Smart System_[1] had woken him from his precious hours of sleep. A followup message from the XO confirmed the urgency of the matter, so the 40-something year old Commander dragged himself out of bed and quick changed into his steel grey service uniform. So here he was taking the tram to the command deck. Void infantry and Voidsmen instinctively stepping out of his way and saluting him. Augustus nodded to the men guarding the bridge who wordlessly let him through.

"What's the situation? Why couldn't you brief me on the way here?" The bridge was a medium sized, not very large since the Ultima wasn't a very large ship. The holodeck was about a foot-and-a-half elevated over the rest of the command deck with the Captain's console overlooking the rest of the systems stations.Blue and white lights lit up the bridge. AMG ships usually had internal bridges, with a series of Looking Glass_[2] tech panels providing a real time view of the ship's surroundings that a bridge with a glass window view would have. The Looking Glass displayed a large ship drifting idly in space. Her lights long since extinguished.

"We figured you should see for yourself." answered the ship's XO, Keene. The XO stepped out of the Captain's way to the holodeck. "Spark, show the Commander what we've got." The holodeck's neutral blue lit up with life, light morphing to create a 3d hologram of the ship drifting in front of them. The words UNVS Aquila in bold text materialized with the ship's roster status and service record.

"The UNVS Aquila was a colony ship bound for the outer planets in 2132. Over 6500 crew and settlers with over a billion dollars worth of colonial development equipment on board. They were destined for the early development of Callisto's colonies. She went missing on June 14th, 2132 when her transponder suddenly went dark. At first it was assumed to be mechanical malfunction but after being a week of no contact, the UN deployed search and rescue efforts but to no avail, sparking a wave of conspiracy theories. The Aquila was determined lost with all hands in February of 2135 after years of searching. That is until now. Preliminary structural scans show significant damage to the ship's stern and port side. The engines appear to be in equally bad shape as well. Damage profiles match that of interstellar object collision."

"We've detected no other ships in proximity, so unless there's a ship out there running completely dark, we're alone out here. What are your orders Commander?" requested Keene.

"Well first contact the Triumph, tell them what we've found and that we need logistics and the Vindictive here ASAP. Extreme cryostasis has only been theorized up until this point so we'll want the Valour and some troop transports on standby too. The Ultima may be rated for troop transport, but we don't have the space to accommodate even half the occupants on that ship."

"That is of course assuming anyone is still alive." Spark said dryly. It was wishful thinking to think anyone had survived on the derelict wreck for so long, but the Commander held out hope.

"Are you detecting any energy signatures from within the ship?" asked the Commander.

"Faint. It seems that maybe one of the reactors is still online, but we're too far away to get an accurate reading. We'll need a physical connection for me to determine the ship's actual status." came the reply.

"Spark, organize a search and rescue party and tell them to head out on the double. Lives may very well depend on it. See if they can bring the ship back online, and check for survivors."

"Yes Commander. Engineer 1st Class Ohno and security echelon 2 Alpha are en-route to the hangar bays now. They should make contact with the Aquila in approximately twelve minutes."

"Hell of a Christmas gift huh sir?" quipped Keene.

"Only if we can rescue them Lieutenant. Only if we can rescue them."

---

Alonzo Feng
AMG Corporate Complex
Nova Pretoria, Valhalla, Calisto
January 1st, 2350

It was mid day when the news broke about Project Wayfinder. The issue with using Terran time measurements was that a single day on Calisto was 17 days back on Earth. Sure, people still operated on a 24-hour schedule, but it made "dating" anything inter-planetary an absolute hassle. This however did not stop many citizens on Callisto from celebrating Terran New Years. As Alonzo worked away at his office, he could see down below, streamers and confetti sailing through the air as holographic fireworks dotted the sky. Certainly it would have looked nicer at night, but Terran New Years fell on mid day this year. The celebration was just that, a celebration. It wasn't particularly anything in relation to loyalty to Earth, but it was tradition. Something they'd always done and looked forward to. Just like the Asian population of Callisto still celebrating Lunar New Years.

"Mr. Feng? You're being summoned for an emergency conference in room 2103B." Feng's heart jumped as a voice broke his concentration. Kimmy, Feng's assistant and secretary had an edge in her voice. That wasn't indicative of something good.

"What's going on Kimmy?"

"I don't know sir. All project supervisors are to convene at room 2103B for an emergency meeting. These orders come from the top. Security will be here shortly to escort you to 2103 sir."

'Security?" Feng thought. 'Well this can't be good.' he was an innocent man and he knew this but he couldn't shake the feeling of fear and uneasiness. Feng had just enough time to save his current day's work before a pair of armed security contractors marched into the room. These however were not normal security garrison members. The garrison wore pressed utility uniforms with a light ballistic vest. These guys were N-TAC. Fully armed and armoured enhanced tactics units. They were on the army's level.

"Mr. Feng please come with us." There were no flowery words exchanged as Alonzo got up to follow the men. As the trio walked out, another pair of N-TAC officers moved into his office.

After a few moments of tense, quiet walking, Alonzo spoke up. "Can you shed any light on why all of this is necessary?"

A curt response was given. "You'll be briefed in the conference room."

That... didn't quite sit well with Feng. Security was already incredibly tight in the AMG Complex, this was concerning. Alonzo was beginning to sweat a little, his body temperature was rising and he felt like steam was coming out of his collar. The enhanced security around the conference room made it look like the Chief himself was in that conference room. They took basically any electronic on him that wasn't literally surgically attached to him. There was probably an entire platoon of N-TAC officers surrounding the conference room entrance, and probably more on the other floors and walls of the room.

After he was cleared for entrance, Feng stepped into the spacious and well decorated conference room. Around a dozen other project leaders sat at desks in a semicircle facing a podium. Feng was escorted to his designated seat. Around him, the most decorated and well respected men and women in probably the entire branch. They all looked equally shook, some were missing parts of them. Anything that could have compromised the security of room was removed. He was pretty sure Chike Omenuko from VoidOps didn't have their.... normal eyes.In short, they hardly looked like the well put together industry leaders they were.

Standing at the podium however was someone who looked the part of a well put together business sector leader. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. I understand this is a very confusing and scary experience for many of you. I am sure many of you have questions. I'm Krishan Kashyap, Executive of the Experimental Materials Division. Effective immediately, you all work under me now. About twenty minutes ago, a UN Scientist by the name of Asa Tounkara leaked a top secret data packet straight from UNTRAI. This data packet had everything on the UN's top secret FTL technology development. They're decades ahead of what we thought even possible. Your divisions will be working directly on the new FTL project. Your budgets, your clearance levels, your everything will be increased. Understandably you will be working with the utmost secrecy. This information was leaked into creative commons. Open domain which means every interstellar government and corporation has the information. No doubt every single organization out there is going to work on FTL."

This was huge news, the UNTRAI was no joke, and whoever this Tounkara person was, they signed their death warrant doing this. Alonzo's heart was beating, more than it was already. No wonder there were so many N-Tac guys around. The race for FTL was definitely on now. This would spark a new age of espionage and corporate warfare. Alliances would be made and destroyed because of this, and it was open source now. The chaos that would happen because of this.

The room was in a stunned silence until Krishan spoke up. "Any questions?"

---

Foot notes:
[1]A Smart System is essentially a glorified a programmed artificial assistant specialized in one specific field or another. Like an AI but for one job category. They come with an optional personality setting but beyond that, they are incapable of any free thought.
[2]Looking Glass Tech is pretty much ripped from Prey. Looking Glass refers to both the hardware - the thin sheet of electronic glass - and the software that brings it to life. Looking Glass displays are holographic, and can simulate depth to a realistic degree. The technology is used for communications, personal recordings, decoration, entertainment, and for experiments

[Sarderia]

THE JOVIAN FEDERATION
1st OF JANUARY 2949

---

COPERNICUS, FEDERAL CAPITAL

The Federal Capitol of the Jovian Federation is a massive and sprawling building complex, jutting out at the edge of a large ice shelf. The six thousand square kilometres of bureaucratic buildings are topped with a grand dome, its foundation modeled after the old American Capitol of Earth, while the dome itself is made of shining glass that reflected the meager Ganymede sun’s rays into the city. Directly behind the dome is a tall, ornate tower where the Senate and House of Representatives convened with the President. And above the Capitol, an array of Federation ships hovered proudly, casting its vast shadows into the cold oceans and city beneath.

President Wilkins stood on one of the Capitol’s large balconies, flanked by his wife and the Vice President. Further behind him are a dozen secret service guards, wearing sunglasses and hands on their pistols, strapped subtly on their belts. Beside him is the Speaker of the House of Representatives. Wilkins gazed at the vast array of Federation soldiers present before him, with their tanks and walkers, mechs and drones standing proudly at their backs, each regiment carrying their banners and the Federation flag. He gave a salute, and the soldiers returned it.

Wilkins stepped into the podium and began his speech. “Ladies and gentleman, citizens of the Jovian Federation! Today we proudly remember the services that our great brothers and sisters, soldiers in arms had given us throughout the journey of this Federation’s founding, and of our forefathers in the Colonial Convention that has given all they had, even their lives to secure our independence. I cannot thank you enough of your service.”

“We remember that in this day, fifty years ago, forces of the Colonial Army defeated the vile oppressors from Earth in the Battle of New Boston. In the spirit of freedom, as the founders of the United States had done before us six centuries ago, our ragtag militia fought against the more advanced United Nations forces, destroying and capturing their massive fleet in the end.” A cheer from the citizens jam-packed in the Capitol Square followed his words.

“And we remember, that our resolve for liberty has, and will continuously grow, to this day and further beyond! We hold one of the largest, and most advanced fleets of the Solar System, and our shipbuilding industry currently is churning out more and more vessels than ever before. Great days of great opportunity lies ahead of us, my fellow brothers and sisters. But I ask you this,” he extended his arms towards the soldiers, “we will not, and shall not, use this force without justification to other states. The Federation is a place of refuge and exiles to bulid a new life. We shall not infringe others’ sovereignity by trespassing and interfering with their domestic policies, unless it is a major threat to the freedom and human rights of their citizens. Especially, when we have more advanced pieces of technology in our hands…” Actually, Marcus just used the rhetoric to appease his supporter base consistently, as staunchly believing on those so-called utopian ideals as they were. He himself would rather use the vast amount of resources at his disposal to dig up even more valuable materials available for the Federation to take, regardless of whatever way he would done it.

“And to that, I applaud our great military for keeping the spirit of freedom alive in this dire solar system of ours. We will always remember your services. I have nothing more to say than this; Happy Armed Forces Day!” As Marcus ended his speech, the massive flagship of the First Fleet, JFMS Star of Liberty, launched thirteen flare missiles from its aft, sending the missiles in a curvature, leaving behind a smoke trail of many colours. The flare missiles exploded just before the massive cruiser JFMS Independence, filling the grey Ganymede sky with hues of brown, white, red, and blue; colours of the Federation flag. The citizens cheered and applauded as the flares blow up. Several marching bands blared The Stars and Stripes Forever as the military regiments started a parade. President Marcus joined the applause when his Minister of Defense approached him.

The Minister looked rather distressed. “Mr. President, we have a report regarding the drive project that’s been broadcasted from Earth. Since we received it yesterday Earth time, the heads of department at DARPA had done whatever they can to extract all the files and create a blueprint to be installed at our ships. The Federation Armed Forces had applied a patent on the drive, and so does the officials from Luna, I was told…” Marcus kept clapping and smiling at the crowd.

“General Bednyakov, calm yourself. I understand the urgency, and you will partake at the emergency cabinet meeting later this day. For now, just enjoy the parade and express your patriotism.” Marcus pointed at the Independence, moving slowly amidst the mass of flares that surrounds it. “Watch…”

As the Sousa march’s last notes was being played, the Independence began to rattle, like some sort of reptilian changing its skin. Its outer armor, being composed by thousands of plates, separated and turned inwards to be covered by another layer of armor, moving outwards. Its cannons and guns also experienced the same change; a new layer of barrels being thrust out, with lights pulsating from it like a vein pumping blood. But the most spectacular thing about the new ship is that its new layer of armor began to change colour; its aft turning brown, while the rest of its body is covered with white, red, and blue – colours of the Federation flag. The ‘scales’ then began to lock with one another, creating a perfectly smooth surface, albeit with the guns and cannons jutting out like spikes.

“Is that all? I’ve seen many a Liberty-class doing a more impressive maneuver than this…” scoffed the Secretary. Marcus kept his smile and tight gaze to the ship. “There’s a reason it’s full with unnatural spikes...” he answered.

Soon, in an unexpected and swift maneuver, the Independence split up into ten separate pieces – measuring forty metres each. The smaller ships began opening their docking ports, sending forth a swarm of drones, flying mechs, and even small starfighters – who flew up and around the First Fleet ships present, sending flares and fireworks throughout the grey sky. One even flew close to the gathering crowds, showering them with confetti in the colours of the Federation flag, just as the military bands began playing Battle Hymn of the Republic. Marcus turned to the Secretary and smirked at him.

“Well, what do you think? Mind you, that’s not all of the projects the DoD has been sanctioned to work last year… and they haven’t even got the maximum amount of budget the law allowed. You can blame the Democrats for that,” he gestured to a Representative nearby, “so if the thing’s a bit lacking, I guess you can forgive me.”

“That thing’s a whole fleet on its own,” remarked Bednyakov with a smile. “Now we won’t even need the Outer Rim fleets constantly patrolling around our operations there... Marcus, I trust you to silence the Dems and bring me another chunkload of cash. I want more of those.”

Marcus chuckled. “Of course, general, of course. I’ll make a note for that to be passed into the House Budget Committee. Besides, you’ll be happy that our representatives had actually made a move against the horrendous welfare policies those Democrats had tried to impose; we might appropriate several parts of the budget to that thing this time.” He clapped as parts of the Independence began forming an attack formation, marching through the city’s skyline. “Time to go now. This FTL thing had me intrigued. I cannot wait for the meeting,” he said to the Secretary.

They both walked down the Capitol’s stairs, where they reached the wide rooftop of a lower building. Marcus found his long and luxurious speeder waiting for him with a ramp open; several guards standing to escort him to the Silver House, official residence of the President.

“I must get back into the Trojan stations soon,” Bednyakov said. “I’ll attend the meeting from my ship. Farewell Mr. President.”

Marcus gave the other man a kindly smile. “Remember to carry out the FTL plan’s development fast while you’re in there. I expect the best given the increase of budget you’re going to have.” He walked out to the ramp and climbed to his speeder.

---

THE SILVER HOUSE

The Silver House is a four hundred metres tall, fifty-one story building located directly across the Federation Capitol, past several monuments that lined the plaza between the two buildings. Bulit in the 2250s as the official residence for the Governor-General of Galileo Colony, the House was initially a modest tower surrounded by several forts and flak batteries, intended to be a new center of government far from the bustling and crowded Galileo City. Over time, as official buildings and new settlers arrived around the House, it grew into a metropolis until the Colonial Convention decided to estabilish it as the new Federation’s capital, after the State of Galileo agreed to cede the city to federal government. The Convention – and later the Congress – organized an orderly city plan based on the grid system of Washington D.C on Earth. The Silver House being the center point of which all lanes are numbered.

President Marcus stepped out of his speeder, which is parked nicely at the House’s roof landing pad. and entered the Silver House with an escort of guards. Things were as busy as it’s usually are. House staffs are running back and forth with official documents, the building’s keepers are busy cleaning and setting the place for a government banquet. He walked into his room in the House’s fifty-first story, the building’s highest levels. He took out his ID card, pushed a button, and then breathed out into a hole, providing a breath scan for the security system. The door slid out swiftly, and he stepped in into his office.

The Presidential office was a neat and not-so-large room consisting of a desk, several sofas, busts of former presidents, an ornate carpet, and a large window on the back of his desk. He put his belongings on a cabinet near the desk. The desk itself is very old – the Federation’s founders had imported an ancient relic of the former United States presidents – the Resolute desk. It has since grown darker and smoother from centuries of polish. The bald eagle bearing a branch and a pack of arrows, seal of the old United States, and the words “E Pluribus Unum” is still proudly engraved on the desk, as former Federation presidents had ordered constant re-carvings, polishments, and colourings. That, as well as the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution – is several of the relics brought into Ganymede from old America, as the Federation’s founders are keen to preserve what they thought as the prime symbols of liberty, integrating them to their own nation. Marcus sat on his chair, and pushed a button on the ancient desk, activating a large screen in his front.

His secretaries and generals appeared on the screen, sitting around a conference table. He could see Secretary Bednyakov sitting on his opposite side of the table. “Well, gentlemen, let us address this matter of new technology…” he started.

“Of course, Mr, President,” Bednyakov answered. “As I said before, DARPA has begun the development of several new blueprints based on this FTL device. They plan to fit it into the latest Independence-class cruisers we’ve launched last month. This information certainly came in a most unfortunate time… had the UN scientist released it several months before, we could certainly equip it into the new cruiser class. Alas, we should make the most efficiency of what we’ve been given.” Marcus nodded.

He turned to the Secretary of Commerce. “Mr. Rozhani, have you reached to the head of SA Constructions yet?” The Secretary, a balding old man of Iranian descent, waved his hands no. “The corporation is unwilling to take more orders of ship development, sir. While they agreed to continue the previous orders we’ve placed, the House of Representatives’ debate over your new Navy bill had them withheld more orders. They fear a backlash from the Democrats for continuing militarization.”

Marcus stroked his chin. “I should have known. Those damned Democrats have always been a thorn in the side of my administration. There’s not a bill that’s ever going to pass had the Federalists didn’t hold the majority in Senate.” The Federalist Party, Marcus’ own party, holds fifty-two of the Senate’s hundred seats. It is formed from the merger of the Republican and Libertarian parties, with both party having been brought into the Colonies by Americans leading the colonization efforts two centuries ago. “I want you to have our Representatives pushing this bill further. I’ll have more ships built, even if it would cost significant backlash from the House.” The secretary nodded and opened his tab, typing the letters for Federalist politicians.

“In the meantime, Secretary Bednyakov,” Marcus continued, “It is undoubtedly true that this… information has sparked a potential crisis throughout the Solar System. Most of all, the Inner Planets would be capitalizing heavily on this project, competing and backstabbing one another for the chance of getting their ships a FTL drive first. We also could capitalize at this moment…”

“All right, sir. As we are currently the largest sovereign presence in the Outer Rim, even larger than Luna, I am positive that we could estabilish a prototype very soon in one of our ships. The DARPA facility in the Trojans have been tasked for developing one. For now, I suggest further cooperation with our neighboring states to further estabilish our military presence against the Inner militaries,” Bednyakov replied.

“I see,” Marcus pondered. He turned to his Foreign Secretary. “Mr. Goldberg, I want our embassies in Vesta, Titan, and the Kuiper Belt to seek out more and more cooperation agreements with their respective governments. This Saturnian Co-Prosperity Sphere is of paramount importance to our interests. I think it’ll be better if you come pay them a visit. Send the new JFMS Independence in the diplomatic contingent; it ought to serve as a show of our military power.”

“That should serve it, Mr. President. I was thinking if we could present several of our ships and drones to be sold to them. We could try dumping, if it could make them placing a huge amount of orders to our corporations. A Federation-sponsored military subsidies throughout the Outer Systems…”

“I thought that’s what we’ve been doing for years?” Marcus chuckled. “Make it so… but I must advise a caution when visiting Titan. Those are extremists you’re dealing with… their religious cult have recently sparked demonstrations and conflicts with the more traditional religious institutions in Galileo City. We don’t want to present ourselves as religious persecutors, but we also don’t want them thinking they could give even more sponsorships to spread their cult forcibly in the Federation. After all, our support to their religion could open a new avenue to estabilish an alliance with Titan,”

“You sound like a true liberal. Promoting the minorities to your own hidden gain,” Goldberg answered.

“Now you’re talking about yourself,” Marcus smiled. “Enceladus is another matter, though. Their political system and ideals are more akin to our own. Moreover, they had a ‘Democratic-Republican Party’ in their government, and we could probably spread some of our Federalist Party ideals to them…”

The Foreign Secretary grunted. “Easier said than done, Mr. President. Nevertheless, we have yet to try it, and I will not make any predictions. I want an escort of two Liberty-class cruisers and five destroyers in addition to the JFMS Independence. Preferably several destroyers with a mostly Illuminate crews, as we’re going to invite their navy officers to take a look at our ships, so that interaction can be made more easier.” Goldberg gestured to the Defense Secretary.

“Done,” Bednyakov answered, “we will dispatch it from one of the First Fleet’s battlegroups. I wouldn’t have any of the Sixth Fleet ships straying away from their patrols. Besides, Ganymede is more secure than ever thanks to the protection array we’ve just upgraded last year.”

“Well then. I consider this meeting to be finished.” Marcus pushed the button on his desk once more, shutting down the large screen. He relaxed and stretched his arms up to the air, turning his chair away from the desk. He could clearly see the panorama of Copernicus from the Silver House’s large windows. Among the large and monumental landmarks are the Crosby Memorial, a large domed building who housed a statue of the Federation’s second President and most estabilished revolutionary general, and the ruins of JFMS Pioneer, first ship ever to serve the Federation Navy in their war of independence. He took his tab and ordered himself an English Breakfast tea from the butlers.

[New yugoslavaia]

Vast

Vast would be the only way I could possibly describe the infinite reaches of space. Even then, that would be underselling just how huge space truly was. Neptune, the nearest planet, is no more than a tiny dot on a canvas covered in some many other bright dots that I would personally forgive anyone for assuming it was just another one of the countless stars that make up the universe.
Vast would also be the word I would use to describe the settlements below. While they weren't as far reaching as those on other moons and dwarf planets and nowhere even resembling close to their larger counterparts, they still stretched out until they nearly fell off the horizon. A massive collection of slabs with curved glass ceilings filling out the spaces between them, dark like the ice they were constructed over.
And here I am, talking about all these tiny little settlements while I look down on them from the highest point of an unfinished megastructure.
Not as if the space elevator was ever going to be finished. There weren’t nearly enough resources to complete it. Because of this, some members of the government just wanted to scrap the whole thing, put the materials to ‘better use’. I know that it will just be wasted on building more ships and industrial areas. We have plenty of those already.
But when you’re the president of said government, they couldn’t get very far. It could be said that it’s quite hypocritical for the leader of a communist society to have such power, but the parliament building wouldn't be very impressive if it was only 5 or 6 storeys off the ground like every other civilian or public service installation. Then again, the whole concept of a single individual being in charge of a communist society rather than a council (although that did exist) was also hypoc-

“Oh for the proles sake, what now?”

Swinging around to face the desk, I was met by a sight I had grown all too accustomed to, albeit not in this state. My desk computer, an impossibly thin transparent square stained red as a reminder of the Martian operating system it was derived from, was dominated by huge white letters communicating one thing and one thing only…

“HIGH PRIORITY MESSAGE!”

“I thought I programmed you not to send me these sort of messages. If they were really that important, someone would come and notify me about it. This isn’t worth my time...unless.”

My fingers leapt at the screen, the notification immediately being dismissed. Summoned to replace was a message…

...a message from Earth.

Not just sent to me, but to every other head of all the governments and nations throughout the Solar System as well. I continued to read the message and upon finishing I understood what I needed to do...