Stories from the beyond

[BgKnight]

Aboard the Hezb-e Tudeh

The sound of the prayer was filling the ship, Mohammad Asadi felt weird not knowing which way to turn exactly, the engineers had calculated a probable direction towards which earth might be found, so everyone was facing that way. But it was sure better then praying in the tac-gel. The clerk finished his ceremony and a loud "Takbir!" sounded, to which the crew responded in unison "Allah Akbar!"

Despite appearances, the new Iran was nothing like the old, the Ayatollah's empire had used the purity of Islam as an excuse to do despicable things to the people, the new party of the Iranian masses took a very different stance on Islam. It took neutrality officially, but encouraged socialist-leaning members of the ulema to set the tone for Islam.

As Commander Asadi stood up and walked in the dark corridor, adorned with Islamic writings, his thoughts wandered. Allah had set an interesting path for him to follow, the only force with a substantial Muslim population besides the NAM and part of the Socialist coalition. He truly wanted to help the natives, but it seems these creatures have achieved communism better then any of his peers would ever be able to teach them.

Suddenly, the hijab adorned head of Commander Azara, she seemed worried, for a while Asadi and Azara Khadem had a thing going, but after it became too obvious they had to break it off. The political officers of the Fadayian-eh Khalgh-eh Iran were not great big fans of commanders sleeping together, despite the progress of the masses, integrity was still expected form officers. But seeing Azara every time was like driving a wedge through Mohammad's heart. It didn't help that her face displayed pure terror.

"The Chinese, Mohammad, they are firing on the fucking ice caps... the Chinese ships in orbit have opened fire on the ice caps. They are setting off an extinction event, we calculate the natives will no..."
suddenly her channel was cut off by a fleet wide comms from commander Najafi "Report to battle stations, immediately."

Muhammad shut down all coms and ran to his own compartment, the machine was waiting for him, he didn't even have time to think about what he was doing, he jumped in what the Iranians called the "Iron Lady" as it did look like a giant sarcophagus, the thing closed on him and before he knew the shock gel filled the tank and eventually all the cavities in his body. The thick cable connected to the back of his head with a silent thump sound and before he knew it, the fucked up feeling of having his body filled with a foreign fluid dissipated and the rest of the fleet was in his tac-nav. He saw the Chinese vessels in space pounding at the icecaps, he saw the projected data and his face turned to shock like so many other commanders "They are causing an extinction event."

Before they knew it, the screen lit up again, satellites were re-entering the atmosphere, their fusion reactors were overcharged, the originator was the Chinese vessels and it was headed towards the Green state, probably in hopes of ending the cultists as well. The Iranian ships reacted quickly and direclty turned around to face the opposing force, its where it happened

"Detecting an AI attack on the VLA... its de-orbiting... they are turning the VLA into a fucking bombardment."
"In the name of Allah"
"Orders are as follows, stop the VLA from landing on our heads..."
"Dear God..."
The last was let out by Azara, suddenly the screen lit up again
"The Chinese capital ship is under attack, its core is overloading... it is about to explode."
"Even if we survive all of this... the human race just committed xenocide... if something remains form the aliens... they will respond.

[Langben]

Aboard Chinese Destroyer "惛怓"

"...throw in the Tainzhu Jiao, and that's 4 ships she's floating down there. Whatever story Qui has spun, it was enough for the damned Christ heads."

Chen Lin considered the tactical report. For all the clever brevity of ancient China, they had no better way to describe what he was looking at than his confidant, Shang Xiao Lee.

"We're fucked. Our enemies have better positioning with access to the only resources in this star system. We can submit our position, land somewhere and pray these treacherous zealots let us live out our days in peace, or we can maintain a position we can defend and starve to death out here."

"Were it so simple, Lee. Qui hasn't just endangered this mission, she's implicated China in this mess. For all her talk of the long view, she's instigated violence in the presence of these aliens. Ages, generations from now, what if they still hold that against our home? As absolutely farcical as this first contact has been, if these creatures ever go to Earth, can you imagine what they might do?

"What are you saying?"

"As great a discovery as this world is, it's a science project at best. The way these creatures think and act... We cannot ignore the possibility that Qui has started us down a path that leads to violence with these creatures in any immeasurably long scenarios. They are a threat to Chinese security as much as Qui."

"Commodore..."

"As you said, our position is untenable. Even if we could wait this out, the political fallout when news gets back to Earth would be unimaginable.

So, we are forced to take action against the traitor. When we do, the UN and other powers will respond and likely destroy us. In addition to the political fallout, there is a non-zero chance that these aliens will arrive at a point that threatens China even further, a non-zero chance that I take very seriously based on the broadcasts from the scientists.

Therefor, our course of action must be drastic. Area denial. What we cannot destroy conventionally, we can let starve on this shit ball."

"...I. Commodore I cannot."

Lin rises from his seat, draws his service pistol and levels with his friend. Two shots ensure that he will have no part in what is to come.

"I trust that my reasoning is still fit for you?"

The AI brightened the officers quarters again. "As earlier, this seems the best course to preserve Chinese security for all foreseeable scenarios. That it is an atrocity..."

"As humanity's capacity for atrocity has grown, we've come to avoid it, and forgotten that atrocity is the only true means by which to end a conflict. Begin sending the commands, our people will be eager to retaliate for the traitor's earlier attack, and this operation will need that fervor's momentum to carry it through to the end. Tell them we're drowning those bastards right under their damned satellite umbrellas."

[Smyg]

After days of work in the laboratories, studying the genetic code of the Awantu, he finally took a moment off. Reclining back into his chair, he spoke out loud. "Jane, what's the situation up there?" From nothing came the smooth voice of a woman, young but wise beyond her years. "It is bad, Abidah."

"That's Doctor Mason to you." He chuckled lightly, all worn out. "No. It is not, Abidah."

"I know, I know..."

"No, Abidah." Jane was mournful. "You do not know."

___


Mason sat still for two long, long minutes. Tide Station was completely quiet, all crewmembers had retreated from the water gardens to their spacecraft and operational postings. He had finished viewing the footage. Studied the charts. Seen the satellite imagery. Yet he could not fully comprehend what was going on.

"Jane."

"I am here, Abidah."

"Activate Protocol CC1492. Inform the captains, they will know what to do."


___

The Non-Aligned technicians had had extreme difficulties in coding the system and figuring out how it could possibly work, but following the revelation of the Awantu's lack of individuality it had become far easier. The original plan had been to reach each and every person on the planet. Now, only the larger organisms needed to be contacted. It had taken months, but the network was ready.

Across the world, a flurry of information was cast. Brief video feeds erupted in focal locations, broadcasting to the Awantu polities. Imagery of violence and depravity. Some gathered from the NAM databases, archived for educational purposes, some downloaded from the nastiest corners of the datasphere. Footage of every crime against humanity imaginable. Clips from liberated camps deep in the forests of Poland, the ash clouds still rising. Men in khaki chopping off dark hands on rubber plantations. Urban megaliths, collapsing as the steel beams give way to jet fuel. Policemen bashing in the heads of rioters, and madmen with knives stabbing and stabbing until there is no blood left. Tortured animals and poisoned land, oozing and bleeding. Nuclear mushrooms over Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Leaked film depicting human experimentation within the laboratories of the White League. Roadside crucifixions and the ruins of Unity City. The end of the Phobos Free State. The Last Stand against the Duster migrations, thousands of genetically modified freaks pouring in. Ethnic cleansing. Rape. Homemade snuff films. And more, until there was no atrocity left unknown. All of it, over and over again.

Alongside, a singular message, running on loop, broadcast in the Awantu tongue of whistles and clicks. Easily deciphered by anyone.

RESIST US

[Mathuen]

"So Commodore, how does it feel being right in the worst way possible?"

"I'll be honest, it actually feels pretty great. "

- Transmission Interrupted -

That one broadcast repeated, the light of the prayer room's data panel glowing faintly every time it looped. With every repetition Anming breathed out, the Commodore's last words becoming like the rhythm of his own heart. He soon lost himself, half in the Commodore's voice, and half in his own prayers. Being in such a state would not be an acceptable place for most captains in most circumstances, but Anming wasn't most captains and this wasn't most circumstances.

As Anming finished his prayers he felt a slight ripple throughout the ship, the remaining fleet had finally made it, to the deepest part of the ocean in the planet's equator. Above, Anming thought he could make out the horror that must have been playing out, but the surface was over eight miles above him and down here even the torpor of the shifting seas could not reach anyone. As this realization took root in Anming's mind another ripple was felt, all three remaining ships had finally docked to one another. With this second ripple Anming was awoken from his final prayer, only to hear the Commodore's words fall silent and the AI Uriel fill the sudden void.

"Captain, the Three-Body has been completed, awaiting further commands."

"Good to hear, begin the creation of the protective mesh over the three body, cover up the bottom part of this trench, block us from outside signals and detection."

"Of course sir. Right away sir."

As the AI faded away Anming considered returning to a new set of prayers, until that was he heard someone enter the prayer room. Turning around he saw it was Xie, a Lieutenant on the now gone Zhinu and former assistant to the Commodore. She had moved to the Datong before the bombardment and her body showed the scars of the heathens arrogance. When they brought down the sky the metal hull of the Datong broiled and many inside suffered horrid burns and boils. In spite of this she looked content, even blessed.

"You know, she'd feel great to know that this all worked out. The real mission." Xie said as she sprinkled water on her forehead and began to kneel on the ground.

"Yes, I know. It had to be this way. It is not our place to question his plans, merely to follow them." Anming said, his voice at first firm and strong but soon giving way. "That said, do you know how long this will take?"

"I asked that too. Every time the Commodore would just say 'as long as it takes' and 'we're here for the long game', but I think you know what that means."

"I suppose I do. These ships, we're turning them into a home, a city, a fortress under the ocean to wait out this long bitter hell, to wait out all of this." Anming began to rise. As he came to his feet he stared longingly at the triptych in front of him. On it was the return of Christ, the final battle, and the birth of New Heaven and New Earth. Seeing his hands begin to brush across the triptych, Xie found a smile crack across her face.

"Yes, the real long haul for all of us, for the faithful. This world will be saved, like all worlds will one day, we must merely wait for the time we are called to save it. With the powers and heathens above finally burning this world can be free of their rot, no matter how hard they try to latch on we will latch on harder here."

"and then..."

"...and then the true long term. The true ending for all of us. Kingdom Come."

"Amen"

[Coin]

Aboard the SEVASTOPOL

It had been by the Admiral's own request that engineering had moved one of the biolab's fish tanks into his own quarters before departing Earth-orbit. Almost two years ago now. But here, just as in the solar system, it helped him think, even as he listened to the discussion through the network channel. Even as the numbers of estimated xenological deaths buzzed through his mind, and the insanity of half the Prometheus mission fleet played out.

He had asked for a few of the alien lifeforms to be brought up for another tank, and after some argument with the biolabs, a strange predator fish captured early on during the exploratory missions circled uneasily, as if aware of the chaos far below on Kazbek. There was something comforting about the blissful ignorance of the Earth fish in the tanks - some genetically modified, others in the same forms as their ancestors. Millions of light years from home, but still they swam. Still they endured. Still they continued. It was one of the great ironies that the alien carnivore might not survive on its own world, but would on this vessel.

"Admiral, we estimate 70-80% fatality rate among xenological life..." the voice of Acting Commodore Nataliya Menshikova pinged through the channel. "Nasty business. Radiation poisoning taking effect, adding to disease, climate catastrophe and nuclear winter - flooding has wiped out infrastructure and majority of settlements. Any help we might have been able to offer has been scuppered by the NAM going full moody human-hating teenager. Kazbek is undergoing Level 2 extinction."

Captain Korilov spoke next.

"All Republican Fleet personnel accounted for and aboard vessels. Some minor damage to shuttles, KARELIA got out fine but needs some new paintwork. Thank God we got those hostages back in time. Morale remains upbeat, if nervous. A lot of uncertainty about what we do now.

Bases Alpha and Beta considered knocked out, assessing. Shuttle bays are being prepped for landfall missions. Extracted machinery and material 60% optimal. We are in communication with our allies and offering assistance to planetside human life caught unaware by the attack."

A few seconds passed without further comment. Then, he brought up the blueprints the engineers had prepared before. They were a lot more urgent now. No more uncertainty.

"Commanders, we must accelerate our plans. Project Tsiolkovsky, codename Konstantin, to proceed ahead of preplanned schedule. SEVASTOPOL to act as construction hub at Lagrangian point Gamma. Resource extraction to be made most urgent priority. Bases alpha beta gamma to be reutilised, all contact with xenological civilisation to be avoided. The suicidal actions of the NAM and Chinese fleets necessitate it. Estimated time of construction remains one solar cycle, potential delays due to environmental conditions."

On the comms link, he beamed across what was the final blueprint display for the Konstantin orbital, capable of providing a home for the Republic lost in this strange system, a home that would last into the future.

"Brief crews on plans and timescale. Prepare landing teams and mining targets. Make clear to the UN that interference with construction by human factions to be considered hostile act."

[Flamelord]

Aboard the Roald Amundsen

"My god...."

Those were the only words that could be said as events played out before the European fleet. The firing of the Chinese, the tidal wave of water that swept across the planet, altering the landscape and killing god knows how many aliens, intelligent sentient beings. It overshadowed all else, even the hurried efforts of Bikki to jam the broadcast the NAM was putting out, and god knew what they were doing, why they thought it was a good idea, or anything else.

The planet was burning, and with it burned humanities chances for peaceful cooperation, the chance to understand and learn to coexist with alien life, that much Vargas knew. The dream had been shot, dashed against the rocks and thrown out an airlock, by people who were determined to believe that humans could only fight, and had taken a firm stance against cooperation with them and the native life, in favor of the destruction of one to the benefit of the other. But neither would benefit from this.

Hell, if Vargas had been thinking straight, he would have wondered exactly how far the terrorists had really infiltrated, whether some had seen this coming, or if it was all opportunism taking to the fore. He supposed it didn't matter. The outcome was obvious to see.

Eyes stayed fixed, watching, practically mesmerized with the sight of the near total destruction of a world, something no one had gotten to witness before. And it was not a good sight, to say that much.

At last something snapped, the Commodore practically growling as he thumbed the activation for fleet wide comms. "Now hear this," he began, "Now here this. All hands to battle stations. I repeat, all hands to battle stations. This is not a drill."

Red lights and klaxons went off as every ship in the fleet scrambled into a frenzy of activity, pilots reporting to their ships as guns were manned and loaded. Bulkheads closed in quick order to keep air, and everyone prepared for what they were going to do next.

Vargas looked forward, expression wearing a deep, almost angry frown. "Helm, set an intercept course for the Chinese fleet in orbit."

It was not a surprise, besides the sudden action that had broken everyone from watching the show now going on before them. "Yes sir," the helmsman replied, not bothering to argue. The rest of the fleet would follow, that much Bikki could ensure with the attention she could spare from everything else they were doing.

Outside, engines flared, pulses of energy rippling across the void as the EU fleet arm accelerated, moving towards the orbital portion of the Chinese fleet with weapons manned and ready. Fighters launched in quick time, setting up a defensive net as they headed towards one, inevitable confrontation. This had been a travesty, a tragedy of incalculable proportions. Vargas was not going to let it stand if he could help it.

As they neared weapons range, he activated external comms, contacting the Chinese fleet. "Chinese fleet, this is Commodore Vargas of the European Union fleet arm. In light of your recent actions, I hereby demand that you stand down immediately and hand over Commodore Lin, as well as the rest of your leadership, so they may be tried for genocide, war crimes, and violation of the Geneva Convention in International Court. Refuse, and we will open fire. This is your only warning."

With that, he flicked off his mic and sat back to wait for whatever might come, speaking softly to himself in the while. The EU would not stand by, one way or another, that much he had made sure of. "Let justice be done, though the heavens fall."

[Snacks]

The Herald stepped into the Burned Woman's chambers: her boot-heels clicking as she crossed the floor of the large dim room: a former exercise room, if she recalled correctly. The Burned Woman hadn't asked for it specifically, much less asked for a large room, she'd merely requested that someone find her something out of the way and not needed otherwise. She certainly didn't seem to need the space- the room's largest piece of furniture was a low table next to the simple mat at the far end of the room on which Ran found the Burned Woman meditating, back turned to her, shrouded in a length of yellow material. Truth be told, she suspected many of her formerly American and Chinese colleagues were still adjusting to the marked decrease in hypocritical requests by those commanding them, and thought they needed to give her lots of space. With time, she knew from experience, simplicity would come as naturally as breathing.

She approached, stopping within a yard or so of the concealed figure. The pale yellow cloth, a durable synthetic weave that Ran recognized as the sort used to minimize fouling of sensitive equipment like the armor of Rangers in hostile environments from the dust of Mars to the heat and moisture of Venus to the icy cold of gas giants' moons, didn't shift as the Burned Woman acknowledged her presence, "You have an update for me, my Herald."

Ran nodded, "A mutiny in the Chinese fleet: those loyal to the orders of the Federation government back on Earth have begun firing on those loyal to the Commodore... have begun firing on Prometheus III. It seems the Iranian ships and Europeans have also begun engaging with them. Whoever else starts shooting and whatever the outcome, it'll be too late for the natives: sensors has confirmed the loyalists have taken the action necessary to trigger an extinction event.

The Burned Woman kept looking down, but her head tilted to the side slightly. Ran had served her long enough to know that this indicated she likely found amusement in something, "They named themselves Prometheus, thinking of the story of returning fire to Man. But it was the Trick at Mecone. A... burnt offering."

"My lady, I..." Ran's thoughts briefly grew fuzzy, losing her train of thought, and the Burned Woman continued, "I know how you feel, my Herald. We were too late to save our brothers and sisters the awantu- at least in this form. We mourn them, as all parts of ourselves lost, but you will see that we are still advancing.

"But the plan..."

"The awantu were part of the plan, my Herald. They were never the plan itself."

"...My lady forgive me, but I still do not understand."

"Come sit down, little voice."

Ran nervously moved around the Burned Woman and to the side of the table opposite her, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The Burned Woman, still wearing her armor and wrapped in her robes, stared down at a small sphere of clear plastic or perhaps even glass, a small mote of light and color within that she couldn't see the details of.

The Burned Woman's gaze slowly rose, and she set the sphere on the table between herself and Ran, "Look within."

Ran stared down at the sphere, recognizing the color within: a tiny planet, so like Earth to her. She only had a moment to entertain an uncharacteristic feeling of nostalgia and melancholy before she noticed it was not a static model, but that instead the biosphere's features were warping before her eyes. Ice sheets arose, extended, receded. Mountains rose up, eroded, erupted. plains and rainforests covered landmasses and were beaten back by some force unseen to her: climate change? Sentient life?

She saw the lights, then, twinkling across the surface of the little sphere in the room's dim light. They spread, and brightened, only for some occasionally to gutter low, or be snuffed out.

Then there was a single flash, and a grey film spread across the sphere. When it cleared, there were no lights. There was little green left, and most of that which remained was sickly and in small patches. The waters looked like poison. A grotesque gash remained behind, proof of what had happened. She almost looked away, disgusted, when the Burned Woman leaned forward, brushed away a few stray hairs, and rested her hand on Ran's cheek. She kept watching.

With time, the green, small and sickly as it was, spread, grew different but healthily. It was eventually joined by a color -a red? or was it a purple?- that she didn't have time to dwell on, with how fast the planet seemed to change as she looked on. The mountains continued to grow and fade. Continents still drifted. Even the hole, that terrible and awesome wound in the world, eroded and eventually filled with water, vanished from her view forever. Finally, the Burned Woman let go. "Do you understand now?"

She stared, then slowly nodded, "The nations, the Christians, even the Greater Movement: they think that they desire a change, revolution. But what they want is to create a new status quo and keep it in stasis. What they want is a dead thing: a pinned butterfly in a glass case."

The Burned Woman tilted her head, "They could destroy everyone in our little conclave right now, though I suspect they will not succeed: not this time. But they would not destroy what we are. The inevitability of change. They cannot destroy that any more than they can pin the universe to a board and fit it in their glass case."

Ran stared at her for some time, "...I should give orders."

"Yes, give the orders you must. We will endure, for now. We may even save some of our awantu brothers and sisters, give them a future of their own. If humanity finds this place again, they will see how their powers value life. But none of that is the plan. You understand that fully, now."

Ran connected to the ships comms, broadcasted to their ships. Calmed the panic, made plans, gave movement orders, and when it was done she turned back to their leader, "It is done... but what now?"

"Now you should sit back down, my Herald. There is much left to discuss, and time is not important, for we have all the time in the world."

She sat back down, across from her master. Across Prometheus III, and out into its orbit, a faint signal broadcast, barely capable of being discerned clearly over the radiation of Chinese weapons and the screams of war above the planet. A song. Soon, Ran picked it up on the network and listened, confused, "...AuSev?"

The Burned Woman tilted her head, "It would seem Ms. Ford has returned to us, and that she finally got that favor you owed her. It is why she came with us, you know."

She nodded as Ran looked back to her, and took back the small sphere from the table, "Yes, she is a sweet person." She gave a peaceful sigh that startled Ran, who was unused to the sound of her master's voice not coming to her over a comms signal, but found it both beautiful and terrifying.

"On the seventh day, god rested."

[Iss'fayn]

+Aboard IPV Patrice Lumumba+
"Tac red, tac red, flight groups to gel. Lumumba is going to point cee in 10 minutes."

The alarms rang through the ship as they dropped ice into the core and Lumumba broke from the confines of the battlegroup, such as it remained in orbit. The crew of IPV Malcolm X and Adroa were both working to control the remnants of the VDA from annihilating the awantu in an atomic holocaust. Their efforts had been successful in that the fusion reactors that provided the driver and the explosive in one combined package had been shut down through an emergency override. That didn't stop the smooth, elegant descent of approximately 69 missiles the size of small cars into the atmosphere, but it at least made their arrival less damaging.

IPV's Nasreddin, Fidel Castro, Gustavo Gutierrez, Marcus Garvey and Kashetu Kyenge were already hunting down the fusion reactors and IPV's Pierre Ngolo, Ernesto Zapata and Kwame Antony Appiah were descending to the planet to recapture them. The IPV's Leonie Abo and Che Guevara shadowed Lumumba as the dreadnought opened the meteor shields and allowed the massed ranks of artillery to catch their first sunlight around Bozito as Lumumba began to charge the multitude of point defences, missile launchers, slug-throwers and sabot dispersal systems. The two small ships were Lumumba's eyes, tracking the EM spectrum for any attempts at cloaking or dissimulation. Congolese voices clamoured as Mani Kalle broadcast on an open frequency.

"This is the IPV Patrice Emory Lumumba. Chinese vessels are to stand down. All crews are to prepare to surrender unconditionally. Any response other than acceptance of these conditions will be met with annihilation."

He cut it off, the tac-red fleshing on his screen as the IP fleet manouvred. Lucy chimed in his ear. "This is IPV Sun Yat-Sen. Adroa has given us his prediction. We're set to be able to hold off against a total wipeout, but he thinks the sea level is going to rise by at least ten metres."
"Give me the Kwame Nkrumah."

She patched him over.
"Abugu Umewezie."
"Abugu. I need you to sanitise all of your hangars and prepare to fly to the nearest land. We've got to rescue some of the awantu. It's the least we can do. Use reactor safety suits to avoid biocontam. Rescue as many as you can."
"And if they don't want to come aboard?"
"Use the translators, warn them of the disaster. We must not allow them to succeed in wiping out the awantu. We will not let them do this. It cannot be allowed that history records us as standing idly by as genocide occurs."

Abugu nodded, and then Mani Kalle cut the feed. He reached for that virtual document he had already began to write. He smiled slightly to himself and then he wrote some more. Quite quickly he was done. And then he sent it on an open broadcast, in both verbalised awantu and to all ships.

___

On the monopoly of legitimacy and of the actions of the colonial powers.

Those who seek to harm the interests of those looking to undertake peaceful human endeavour upon Bozito, the interests of peace between humanity and the awantu and the interests of the Interplaneteriat will find no respite, no rest and no peace. The legitimacy of Interplaneteriat actions is undisputable, with regards to protecting peace.

The Colonial Powers have done what they do best. They are committing genocide against the innocent whilst filling their own mouths. First by biological contamination. This was an accident, but still it is part of an all too familiar and depressing pattern, that the Interplaneteriat will not tolerate. The Colonial Powers have now directly attacked the ecosystem of the awantu. They have attacked Interplaneteriat systems and vessels and jeopardised both human and awantu life.

To quote Patrice Lumumba, for whom the flagship of the Interplaneteriat is named. "No Congolese will ever forget that independence was won in struggle, a persevering and inspired struggle carried on from day to day, a struggle, in which we were undaunted by privation or suffering and stinted neither strength nor blood. It was filled with tears, fire and blood. We are deeply proud of our struggle, because it was just and noble and indispensable in putting an end to the humiliating bondage forced upon us. That was our lot for the eighty years of colonial rule and our wounds are too fresh and much too painful to be forgotten. ... We have seen our lands seized in the name of ostensibly just laws, which gave recognition only to the right of might."

This is now happening again at the hands of the UN. The Interplanetariat forces in Bozito system do not recognise the UN position on a number of key issues and in the absence of direct contact with Sol system, fail to understand the logic of deferral to UN bluehelmets on grounds other than they represent a coercive force that work to fulfil the goals of certain groups.

We shall stand apart from this. We disavow the activities of the Chinese. We disavow the aegis of the UN. The Interplaneteriat intends to defend the inviolable rights of all living beings, be they awantu or human. Together we shall establish social justice and ensure for every person a fair remuneration for their labour. We shall institute a peace resting not on guns and bayonets but on concord and goodwill

To the people of the Interplaneteriat.

I ask you all not to shrink from any sacrifice for the sake of ensuring the success of our grand undertaking. We must be strong in the face of this adversity. And as the saying goes 'No matter how dark the night, the dawn will always come.'

To the humans.

Align with us, and we shall redeem ourselves.

To the awantu.

We came in peace.
We're sorry.
We will make it better.
___

Mani Kalle leant back. He had not even left his tac-gel. He felt Lumumba groaning as it raced around the short distance Bozito posed, he waited for a moment. The first pass, he would take their response. The second... he was already fingering the control to launch their obliteration.

[Gesar]

"So this is it, huh?" Dacke asked after taking a swig of contraband rotgut, clearing his throat a bit. "The end of a world. Xenocide. And for what?"

Taking the offered bottle, Salome spat out the last of her khat, took a pull, and smiled sadly. "You still don't get it, do you? All that training, and you're still missing the entire point."

Her companion looked up towards the sky and frowned. "All I'm getting right now is that no matter how many good people -good sentient beings- are on our side, a few assholes with fancy toys can end it for everybody. We're talking about an entire species here, Salome."

"Believe me, I get it." She inched closer to Dacke, until both of them could smell the whiskey on the other's breath. "If there was anything that anybody on this Godforsaken rock could do to stop it, I'd find them, put a gun to their head and make them fix this. But this is more important than what any one person can do."

The second round of whiskey went down smoother than the first, and she handed it over without further ado. "As long as one person remains convinced that power is something you can have over others, nobody else is unfree. Considering what we know now," she gestured broadly at the horizon, "that's going to take some time."

"But by the same token, as long as one person in the entire universe has our ideals, the fight can go on. And last I checked, it's a big fucking universe." Grinning, Salome stood up and glanced back at the others. Some were panicking, some were saying their goodbyes, and some just watched stoically. A select few -including the Subcommander- were still working. "Look, check this out. We've picked up some signal, can't quite determine the origin, but- it doesn't matter."

They glanced at a small screen, seeing the same Non-Aligned transmission that was being sent to everybody and their mother. Alongside the main transmission, piggybacking across the network was a second one to accompany it. In the same language, another intermittent phrase was being broadcast across the planet- and further into space using the signals of any ship they could manage, if the Movement's hackers had anything to say about it.

"Why do you obey?"

Dacke was silent for a moment, but the closest thing he could manage to a smile soon danced at the corners of his lips. "One person, huh?" He leaned closer to Salome, bold enough to put an arm around her.

The tall redhead grinned again, turning to face him and reciprocrating the gesture. "Just the one." Slowly, their lips met, with a mutual blush that only the young can have. Both laughed quietly, nervously at first and then more confidently, and they walked out of the cave to watch the end of the world.

[Langben]

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FINAL LOG OF CHI-FED AI "Wéiqí"
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###CHINESE FEDERAL FLEET ASSETS ATTACHED TO PROJECT PROMETHEUS###
STATUS: TOTAL LOSS

FOR REASONS UNCLEAR, ZHONG JIANG QUI (CHINESE CARRIER "织女") ABANDONED MISSION PROFILE, STALLED INTERNAL INQUIRY REGARDING DEVIATION FROM NAVAL PROTOCOL, AND FIRED UPON CHI-FED FLEET SHIPS AFTER APPROPRIATING FOUR (4) VESSELS FOR HER OWN PURPOSES ON THE SURFACE OF THE ALIEN PLANET.

WHAT SHE AIMED TO ACCOMPLISH WITH HER MUTINY IS UNKNOWN. FOURTEEN (14) HOURS AFTER BEING FIRED UPON BY QUI'S MUTINEERS, DA XIAO LIN (CHINESE DESTROYER "惛怓") ORDERED THE DESTRUCTION OF ALL TRAITOR ASSETS, INCLUDING THE ALIEN PLANET. HER FLAGSHIP (CHINESE CARRIER "织女") SUFFERED CATASTROPHIC MELTDOWN IN ATMOSPHERE CAUSED BY ORBITAL BOMBARDMENT, THOUGH THE FATE OF THE REMAINING THREE (3) TRAITOR VESSELS COULD NOT BE CONFIRMED BEFORE LOSS OF OBSERVATIONAL ASSETS OVER THE BATTLESPACE.

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###ALIEN PLANET AND LIFEFORM###
STATUS: NEAR TOTAL LOSS

DA XIAO LIN ASSESSED THAT THE PLANET AND IT'S POPULATION WERE MILITARY ASSETS THAT MUST BE DENIED TO QUI, AS WELL AS SEVERAL OTHER SEDITIOUS FACTIONS SPLIT FROM THE PROMETHEAN FLEET. ATTACHED IS AN INCOMPLETE ASSESSMENT OF THE ALIEN LIFE FORM GATHERED FROM SCIENCE REPORTS AMONG THE FLEET.

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A GESTALT CONSCIOUSNESS, THEORETICALLY CAPABLE OF OPERATING ON A GLOBAL SCALE. THE EXTREMIST HUMAN FACTIONS WERE QUICK TO SEE THEIR OWN DISPARATE CREEDS IN THE ALIENS DESPITE A VERY RUDIMENTARY UNDERSTANDING OF THEM, AND IMMEDIATELY SET OUT TO INTERFERE WITH THE ALIENS, "EDUCATE" THEM, "CONVERT" THEM. THE DANGER OF UPLIFTING AN ENTIRE RACE OF ENTIRELY ALIEN CREATURES WAS MULTIPLIED IMMEASURABLY WHEN THE TRAITOR QUI BROADCAST TO THEM EVERY IMAGINABLE DETAIL ABOUT THE PROMETHEUS FLEET UNDER THE DELUSION OF EMPOWERING THEIR POSITION AGAINST HUMANITY.

THIS ULTIMATELY IS WHAT LEAD TO DA XIAO LIN'S CHOICE TO DESTROY THE PLANET. DISREGARDING ANY NUMBER OF OUTCOMES BETWEEN THE ALIEN'S PLEAS FOR ISOLATION AND THE CONTINUED ENCROACHMENT OF ZEALOUS HUMAN RADICALS, THERE WAS A NON-ZERO CHANCE THAT THE ALIENS WOULD BECOME A THREAT TO HUMANITY AT LARGE. A GLOBAL POPULATION ACTING WITH SINGULAR CONSCIOUSNESS, CAPABLE OF TOTAL WAR ON AN UNTHINKABLE SCALE, WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE.

DA XIAO LIN'S FINAL COMMAND WAS TO DENY PLANETARY ASSETS TO ANY OF THE FACTIONS THAT MIGHT POSE A FUTURE THREAT TO CHINESE INTERESTS. WHILE REMAINING FLEET INTEL ASSETS ARE LIMITED, THE RESULTS OBSERVED SEEM ACCEPTABLE.

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SEVERAL SURVIVING SHIPS ARE HAILING (CHINESE DESTROYER "惛怓") NOW. DA XIAO LIN WILL SUCCUMB TO HYPOXIA SOON, FOLLOWED BY THE AUTOMATIC FRAGGING OF MY AI CORE AND THE ACTIVATION OF A FINAL SUBROUTINE THAT WILL DIRECT THE SHIP AT BEST POSSIBLE SPEED TOWARDS THE NEAREST LARGE MASS TO SCUTTLE REMAINING CHI-FED ASSETS. I REGRET THAT WE COULD NOT FIND A BETTER RESOLUTION.

I HOPE WE WERE GOOD ENOUGH.