Pacing around the briefing room aboard the Capital Ship Escobar, Engineer Frederick Bison looked in awe at what he was seeing on the multiple screens in front of him. He was watching various battles that have been fought for the past 15 years. That’s how long the Eight Galactic War had gone on. Factions have died and others have arisen, some have been here since the dawn of time and some are clinging to existence.



Flicking the screens off Frederick turned to his associates and said, “War, it is such a lovely thing. Most people don’t like it, but I sure do. You see, the thing about war is that it is veeeerrrrryyyyyy entertaining. Especially if your not in it and don't care about the outcome. I have been pretty bored lately. Since this year old footage there hasn't been much fighting going on and that annoys me. In fact it really annoys me. But all isn't lost.....no...no....I have this plan, or should I say this invention...that will take me back to my happy place. War shall commence once more. I shall make it so. To wage war is human nature. It is only fitting that I, Frederick Bison, should incite it. Mmwwaahahahahaah!!!!!”



*Aboard Flagship Currency in the Commonwealth Armada*



“Sir, here are the hourly finance reports from yesterday,” said the secretary.

Looking over the report, Admiral Lucas Credit replied, “What is this! The national income is down 0.0034 percent. This is preposterous! Raise the taxes in sectors 14-25 by 12%. “Surely you are overreacting sir. Raising taxes that high would cause the people to riot,” said the secretary. “If they riot then impose martial law,” replied the admiral.



“But sir…… “WHAT is my last name?” asked the admiral. “Cre…Credit,” replied the secretary. “What do I love most in this world?” asked the admiral. “Credits,” said the secretary feebly. “And what have I given my life to attain?” the admiral asked. “Credits…sir,” the secretary replied. “Exactly, and that is why I rule this wealthy nation we know as the Commonwealth,” stated the Admiral.



A Lieutenant rushed into the room. Panting he said, “Sir, the entire armada has just been sucked into a wormhole. “What,” the admiral boomed. “Where did it come from?” “We don’t know sir,” replied the Lieutenant. “It just popped up in front of us. We don…” “What galaxy are we in?” asked the Admiral. “Well that’s the thing sir. We have no idea. The universal navigator has gone haywire and none of the maps are telling us anything. There doesn’t seem to be anyway back. I think we’re stranded.” After hearing him the admiral bellowed for hours locked in his cabin, worrying about his lost fortune. When he came out he had one thing on his mind. To kill whoever was responsible for this!





* Onboard the Flagship Hedondria in the Alliance Armada*



“Tonight's bout is for the Galactic Alliance Fighting championship,” said the ring announcer. “In this corner weighing 205 pounds is the challenger out of Altaris Prime, Joe “Light's Out” Mason. And in this corner, He is your Galactic Alliance Champion who is undefeated in professional fighting.”

“Prodigy, Prodigy, Prodigy, Prodigy,” shouts the fans.

“Weighing 210 pounds your champion Mike “The Prodigy” Johnson!” said the announcer. At this the champion went to the center of the ring and did a pose with his hands spread open. The fans erupted in screams of joy. One of these fans was the General of the Alliance Armada, Caden Knox.



“There is no way Joe Mason has got a chance of beating Mike Johnson,” screamed the General to his associate. “Mason is going to get mauled.”

“I'm sure it will be a good fight sir,” replied the associate. “This ships readings appear to be normal.”

“Yeah, yeah, why don't you put that hunk of junk away?” asked the General as the ring bell rung. “Don't you see that you got a quality beat down about to happen.”

“Sir, it is essential that at least one of us pays attention to what is going on with the armada,” replied the associate.

“Whatever, what’s the worst that could happen?” asked the general? Suddenly the ship lurched. Mike lost his balance and Joe Mason took advantage and hit Mike square in the jaw. Mike dropped like a sac of rice. He was knocked out cold.



“Your winner and NEW Galactic Alliance fighting champion Joe “Lights Out” Mason. Boo's erupted from the fans. Everyone saw what happened and knew that that was a cheap shot. “No freaking way did that just happened!” screamed the general. “When I find who is responsible for this.......”

“Sir the......” said the associate.

“I'm going to rip their head off. Who is at the ship bridge?” asked the General.

“GENERAL CADEN KNOX!” screamed the associate.

“What?” the general screamed back.

“The ship navigation has gone haywire,” said the associate. “I am getting reports that we got sucked into a wormhole that appeared out of the sky.” “This is no time for jokes,” replied the General.

“This is no joke. I swear. We are stranded in another galaxy with no clue where we are or how to get back.” said the associate.

“Back to the bridge, double time.” commanded the General. “We got some shit to sort out.”





* Aboard the Battleship Arkshar in the Association Armada *



“What are your thought’s on the new battleship we have developed Mr. President.,” asked head researcher Dr. William Matthews.



“I’d say that it is just the ship design we are looking for,” the President replied. “With the new armor we just synthesized and the innovative shield technology we researched, it should be a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Gone are the days when a battalion of fighters could take down a battleship. Now begins a new era in modern warfare.”



“But sir,” said William. “With the new peace treaty that was agreed upon how will the other factions reacts to this new development.”



“What the other factions don’t know won’t hurt them,” the President replied. “How long do you think this peace will last, Dr. Matthews? How long will it be before some ruler gets greedy or for some accident to occur? The answer is that we don’t know. It could be tomorrow or it could be five years from now. But when it does happen you will be sure that The Association will be ready for it. I, Lionel Dent, shall make it so.”



“Attention! Attention! Hyper Drive Initiated!” said the computers voice.

“What’s going on William?” asked the president. “Why are we entering hyper drive?”

“It seems like we have entered a wormhole of some sort,” replied the doctor from a computer.

“Where did it take us to?” asked the President.

“It’s some unknown galaxy,” the doctor replied.

“Could this be some plot from one of the other factions,” the president thought to himself. “Seems like war might come sooner than even I expected, rally the generals to me. It seems like we got work to do.”





* Aboard the Prayer ship Sunrise in the Unitology Armada*



Prime Minister Dende walked the halls of the temple reflecting on the recent peace talks between the factions. “Things had gone well for the most part,” thought Dende. “They had all agreed to a ceasefire and the updated galactic boundaries were now set. The only thing left now is for the factions to take their armadas to the intergalactic junkyard to be scrapped and recycled. They all agreed that if true peace was to be obtained then a vast amount of the military would have to be decommissioned. Dende was more worried about the soldiers returning back to society and living a normal life. Civil unrest will surely occur and could threaten the economy that the mighty Unitos had given them.”



Kneeling in front of the altar Dende prepared himself for the noon prayer. It will also give him time to relax and meditate before he has to continue with his duties. Dende breathed in the aroma from the incense that he just lit and calmly closed his eyes. He was soon in a trancelike state, one that proved useful to him in the past. It was in this state that he was able to decide what was best for his people. It was in this state that he discovered a way to end the galactic war. It is because of the importance of this that he locked the door every time he came here to pray.



It is in this state that Dende saw what was to come. He saw the factions fighting once more. He saw more bloodshed than ever before. He saw treaties broken, allies betrayed, and the death of millions. It is in this vision he saw the figure of a man; a man whom he could not recognize. The shadow was laughing hysterically at what lay before him in the ravine. He was sure he was the one responsible for all this. Dende looked into the ravine and gasped. What lay below him was a pit of dead bodies farther than he could see; the bodies of innocent civilians that were killed in the battle. This man, this wretched man, was...........BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Someone was banging on the prayer room door. Dende hobbled to the door and opened it for those that were frantically trying to get in and said, “May Unitos help us all......”



(Crimson Moon Accord)



*Aboard the Crimson Colossus Requiem in the CMA Armada*



Amwalik Patero awakened from his slumber smiling at the events that had occurred the day before. All for of the human factions had arrived at the unknown galaxy just like they had. Now being sucked into the random wormhole isn’t as bad as it first seemed. Long ago were the days when humans and the crimson moon accord happily shared galaxies together. Long ago was the time when the CMA was betrayed and hunted down by humans. The people of the CMA were forced to flee by the very humans they helped survive. Humans that they once trusted, humans they considered their friends. Now fate had brought them back together once more. Face to face with the ones who caused the dark ages for the entire CMA. Revenge is Sweet………





* A vid screen conversation between Frederick Bison and the Faction Leaders*



“Welcome o great faction leaders and ministers. I see that we have ourselves quite a predicament now don’t we,” said Bison.



“You bet we do jackass!” said General Caden Knox from the alliance.



With an unwavering smile Frederick mute Knox's audio and continued, “There is no need for that type of temper Mr. Knox. I will not take anymore interruptions. I'm sure you all want to know why you have been brought here. Well it is simple. This Galaxy is called Iota Chi. it is a distant galaxy on the edge of the universe light years away from any modern civilization. There are no wormholes to take you back from which you came. To even attempt a journey through open space shall be suicide. You would wander the universe forever. The only choice you have, no....the only thing you can do is fight. Fight and destroy all the opposing factions. Only then will I supply you with a means of travel that will get you back to your native land. HHAHAHAHAHAHA.”



“You can't do this. This isn't right,” complained the Lucas Credit, leader of the commonwealth.

“I can do whatever I please. Who's going to stop me,” Bison replied. “I can travel anywhere in the universe, you won't ever be able to catch me.”

“It is a wormhole creator of some kind,” said Amwalik Patero mastermind of the Crimson Moon Accord. “The thing you used to bring us all here.”

“Seems like we have a smart one eh,” Replied Bison. “It is precisely so, I have developed a device that generates a wormhole for me anywhere I want. This is the device for which you must fight for.”

“And what if we refuse,” said Lionel Dent president of the Association.

“Then you all die,” said Bison slyly. “I shall create an unstable wormhole that will suck this entire galaxy from existence. Taking whatever is nearby with it. It is your choice. You must understand

I....I am a warmongeror. Not a fake wannabe but a true one. You see, I'm obsessed with war. It's like a wife that I can't live without. War completes me and I want to do NOTHING MORE THAN TO WATCH YOU ALL RIPPING EACH OTHER TO SHREDS!!!!!

“But why us; why must the people of the Unitology be forced to fight against our will? Why must we fight?” asked Prime Minister Dende.

“Why, you ask?” said Frederick, “because nothing is more entertaining than Warring Factions.”

Pacing around the briefing room aboard the Capital Ship Escobar, Engineer Frederick Bison looked in awe at what he was seeing on the multiple screens in front of him. He was watching various battles that have been fought for the past 15 years. That’s how long the Eight Galactic War had gone on. Factions have died and others have arisen, some have been here since the dawn of time and some are clinging to existence.

Flicking the screens off Frederick turned to his associates and said, “War, it is such a lovely thing. Most people don’t like it, but I sure do. You see, the thing about war is that it is veeeerrrrryyyyyy entertaining. Especially if your not in it and don't care about the outcome. I have been pretty bored lately. Since this year old footage there hasn't been much fighting going on and that annoys me. In fact it really annoys me. But all isn't lost.....no...no....I have this plan, or should I say this invention...that will take me back to my happy place. War shall commence once more. I shall make it so. To wage war is human nature. It is only fitting that I, Frederick Bison, should incite it. Mmwwaahahahahaah!!!!!”

*Aboard Flagship Currency in the Commonwealth Armada*

“Sir, here are the hourly finance reports from yesterday,” said the secretary.
Looking over the report, Admiral Lucas Credit replied, “What is this! The national income is down 0.0034 percent. This is preposterous! Raise the taxes in sectors 14-25 by 12%. “Surely you are overreacting sir. Raising taxes that high would cause the people to riot,” said the secretary. “If they riot then impose martial law,” replied the admiral.

“But sir…… “WHAT is my last name?” asked the admiral. “Cre…Credit,” replied the secretary. “What do I love most in this world?” asked the admiral. “Credits,” said the secretary feebly. “And what have I given my life to attain?” the admiral asked. “Credits…sir,” the secretary replied. “Exactly, and that is why I rule this wealthy nation we know as the Commonwealth,” stated the Admiral.

A Lieutenant rushed into the room. Panting he said, “Sir, the entire armada has just been sucked into a wormhole. “What,” the admiral boomed. “Where did it come from?” “We don’t know sir,” replied the Lieutenant. “It just popped up in front of us. We don…” “What galaxy are we in?” asked the Admiral. “Well that’s the thing sir. We have no idea. The universal navigator has gone haywire and none of the maps are telling us anything. There doesn’t seem to be anyway back. I think we’re stranded.” After hearing him the admiral bellowed for hours locked in his cabin, worrying about his lost fortune. When he came out he had one thing on his mind. To kill whoever was responsible for this!


* Onboard the Flagship Hedondria in the Alliance Armada*

“Tonight's bout is for the Galactic Alliance Fighting championship,” said the ring announcer. “In this corner weighing 205 pounds is the challenger out of Altaris Prime, Joe “Light's Out” Mason. And in this corner, He is your Galactic Alliance Champion who is undefeated in professional fighting.”
“Prodigy, Prodigy, Prodigy, Prodigy,” shouts the fans.
“Weighing 210 pounds your champion Mike “The Prodigy” Johnson!” said the announcer. At this the champion went to the center of the ring and did a pose with his hands spread open. The fans erupted in screams of joy. One of these fans was the General of the Alliance Armada, Caden Knox.

“There is no way Joe Mason has got a chance of beating Mike Johnson,” screamed the General to his associate. “Mason is going to get mauled.”
“I'm sure it will be a good fight sir,” replied the associate. “This ships readings appear to be normal.”
“Yeah, yeah, why don't you put that hunk of junk away?” asked the General as the ring bell rung. “Don't you see that you got a quality beat down about to happen.”
“Sir, it is essential that at least one of us pays attention to what is going on with the armada,” replied the associate.
“Whatever, what’s the worst that could happen?” asked the general? Suddenly the ship lurched. Mike lost his balance and Joe Mason took advantage and hit Mike square in the jaw. Mike dropped like a sac of rice. He was knocked out cold.

“Your winner and NEW Galactic Alliance fighting champion Joe “Lights Out” Mason. Boo's erupted from the fans. Everyone saw what happened and knew that that was a cheap shot. “No freaking way did that just happened!” screamed the general. “When I find who is responsible for this.......”
“Sir the......” said the associate.
“I'm going to rip their head off. Who is at the ship bridge?” asked the General.
“GENERAL CADEN KNOX!” screamed the associate.
“What?” the general screamed back.
“The ship navigation has gone haywire,” said the associate. “I am getting reports that we got sucked into a wormhole that appeared out of the sky.” “This is no time for jokes,” replied the General.
“This is no joke. I swear. We are stranded in another galaxy with no clue where we are or how to get back.” said the associate.
“Back to the bridge, double time.” commanded the General. “We got some shit to sort out.”


* Aboard the Battleship Arkshar in the Association Armada *

“What are your thought’s on the new battleship we have developed Mr. President.,” asked head researcher Dr. William Matthews.

“I’d say that it is just the ship design we are looking for,” the President replied. “With the new armor we just synthesized and the innovative shield technology we researched, it should be a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Gone are the days when a battalion of fighters could take down a battleship. Now begins a new era in modern warfare.”

“But sir,” said William. “With the new peace treaty that was agreed upon how will the other factions reacts to this new development.”

“What the other factions don’t know won’t hurt them,” the President replied. “How long do you think this peace will last, Dr. Matthews? How long will it be before some ruler gets greedy or for some accident to occur? The answer is that we don’t know. It could be tomorrow or it could be five years from now. But when it does happen you will be sure that The Association will be ready for it. I, Lionel Dent, shall make it so.”

“Attention! Attention! Hyper Drive Initiated!” said the computers voice.
“What’s going on William?” asked the president. “Why are we entering hyper drive?”
“It seems like we have entered a wormhole of some sort,” replied the doctor from a computer.
“Where did it take us to?” asked the President.
“It’s some unknown galaxy,” the doctor replied.
“Could this be some plot from one of the other factions,” the president thought to himself. “Seems like war might come sooner than even I expected, rally the generals to me. It seems like we got work to do.”


* Aboard the Prayer ship Sunrise in the Unitology Armada*

Prime Minister Dende walked the halls of the temple reflecting on the recent peace talks between the factions. “Things had gone well for the most part,” thought Dende. “They had all agreed to a ceasefire and the updated galactic boundaries were now set. The only thing left now is for the factions to take their armadas to the intergalactic junkyard to be scrapped and recycled. They all agreed that if true peace was to be obtained then a vast amount of the military would have to be decommissioned. Dende was more worried about the soldiers returning back to society and living a normal life. Civil unrest will surely occur and could threaten the economy that the mighty Unitos had given them.”

Kneeling in front of the altar Dende prepared himself for the noon prayer. It will also give him time to relax and meditate before he has to continue with his duties. Dende breathed in the aroma from the incense that he just lit and calmly closed his eyes. He was soon in a trancelike state, one that proved useful to him in the past. It was in this state that he was able to decide what was best for his people. It was in this state that he discovered a way to end the galactic war. It is because of the importance of this that he locked the door every time he came here to pray.

It is in this state that Dende saw what was to come. He saw the factions fighting once more. He saw more bloodshed than ever before. He saw treaties broken, allies betrayed, and the death of millions. It is in this vision he saw the figure of a man; a man whom he could not recognize. The shadow was laughing hysterically at what lay before him in the ravine. He was sure he was the one responsible for all this. Dende looked into the ravine and gasped. What lay below him was a pit of dead bodies farther than he could see; the bodies of innocent civilians that were killed in the battle. This man, this wretched man, was...........BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Someone was banging on the prayer room door. Dende hobbled to the door and opened it for those that were frantically trying to get in and said, “May Unitos help us all......”

(Crimson Moon Accord)

*Aboard the Crimson Colossus Requiem in the CMA Armada*

Amwalik Patero awakened from his slumber smiling at the events that had occurred the day before. All for of the human factions had arrived at the unknown galaxy just like they had. Now being sucked into the random wormhole isn’t as bad as it first seemed. Long ago were the days when humans and the crimson moon accord happily shared galaxies together. Long ago was the time when the CMA was betrayed and hunted down by humans. The people of the CMA were forced to flee by the very humans they helped survive. Humans that they once trusted, humans they considered their friends. Now fate had brought them back together once more. Face to face with the ones who caused the dark ages for the entire CMA. Revenge is Sweet………


* A vid screen conversation between Frederick Bison and the Faction Leaders*

“Welcome o great faction leaders and ministers. I see that we have ourselves quite a predicament now don’t we,” said Bison.

“You bet we do jackass!” said General Caden Knox from the alliance.

With an unwavering smile Frederick mute Knox's audio and continued, “There is no need for that type of temper Mr. Knox. I will not take anymore interruptions. I'm sure you all want to know why you have been brought here. Well it is simple. This Galaxy is called Iota Chi. it is a distant galaxy on the edge of the universe light years away from any modern civilization. There are no wormholes to take you back from which you came. To even attempt a journey through open space shall be suicide. You would wander the universe forever. The only choice you have, no....the only thing you can do is fight. Fight and destroy all the opposing factions. Only then will I supply you with a means of travel that will get you back to your native land. HHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

“You can't do this. This isn't right,” complained the Lucas Credit, leader of the commonwealth.
“I can do whatever I please. Who's going to stop me,” Bison replied. “I can travel anywhere in the universe, you won't ever be able to catch me.”
“It is a wormhole creator of some kind,” said Amwalik Patero mastermind of the Crimson Moon Accord. “The thing you used to bring us all here.”
“Seems like we have a smart one eh,” Replied Bison. “It is precisely so, I have developed a device that generates a wormhole for me anywhere I want. This is the device for which you must fight for.”
“And what if we refuse,” said Lionel Dent president of the Association.
“Then you all die,” said Bison slyly. “I shall create an unstable wormhole that will suck this entire galaxy from existence. Taking whatever is nearby with it. It is your choice. You must understand
I....I am a warmongeror. Not a fake wannabe but a true one. You see, I'm obsessed with war. It's like a wife that I can't live without. War completes me and I want to do NOTHING MORE THAN TO WATCH YOU ALL RIPPING EACH OTHER TO SHREDS!!!!!
“But why us; why must the people of the Unitology be forced to fight against our will? Why must we fight?” asked Prime Minister Dende.
“Why, you ask?” said Frederick, “because nothing is more entertaining than Warring Factions.”

Poor little planet. Just out of shot is a massive death fleet that wants to kill it.

With the entire universe embroiled in some of the heaviest conflicts in its history, it came as no small shock to see several familiar faces emerging from the mists. Some of these returning Commanders haven't been heard from in decades after retiring in quiet solitude.

Palleon, Commodore Destroyer, Jamezor... these are just some of the names that have emerged from the darkness to return to the world of empire command in the past several years.

Then the world saw the return of Dr. Strangelove, easily one of the more outspoken empire leaders from the early days of the great wars. Drawing upon his experience, he has already begun to climb the ranks of The Institution. Will he be reigniting his war with Commodore Destroyer--- a war which has not seen battle waged in nearly 200 years?

This was quickly followed by the equally surprising return of crabrock. For centuries, one of the most controversial people in the universe, crabrock's return shocked the universe. Clearly, we can expect sweeping changes in his wake.

As if that weren't enough, rumor has it that spazzhole was recently sighted in several large cities. Whether he returns to Empire command or continues being a private citizen remains to be seen.

These are exciting times in the universe. Old rivalries and new enemies clash on a nearly daily basis. It's unclear who will emerge the victor of these brutal battles, but one thing is for certain--- the ongoing conflicts promise to make this period in human history one of the most bloodsoaked chapters that mankind has ever seen.

Hadar, It's just like any other system in the Universe, for the most part. Nothing exceptional about it. Just one of the systems that has yet to pick a side in the coming conflict.

It was overcast when Sullivan left his home. He was the captain of the guard for the Governor of Hadar, possibly one of the more trusted, respected, and powerful people in the system. He went down State Street, walking with the confidence that only comes from those who perceive all threats and formulate a possible response.

When he arrived at the State House, he put on his uniform and strapped on his blaster and his knife with the other guards. He and a cadre of fourteen guards went to the Governor's chambers while another twenty two guards secured the meeting hall itself, and another fifty seven guards secured the adjacent halls, rooms, and the roof.

He rapped on the Governor's door. "Come in," was the reply. He cracked the door open.

Governor Diggory Lustek was a gray old man. In his youth he'd been a firebrand, had turned Hadar from a backwards system to a gem, thrown the factions out and never went to bed without being sure he'd completed everything necessary to make sure he'd wake up to a better system. He'd taken the governor's office twelve times in the elections, a majority every time. But his hair had started falling out, and his strength faded, and the light went out of his eyes. Sullivan was sure this was his last term. The man couldn't survive another one.

"Sir, the faction emissaries are here," said Sullivan.

"All of them, Sully?" asked the Governor.

"All of them, sir," replied Sullivan.

"Very well." The Governor got up and stepped into the hall. He glanced over his guards, still a towering figure in his elder years. His features hardened into a regality he used to deal with figures of importance. But Sullivan saw the weakness in his eyes.

They went into the meeting hall. "You were wrong, Sullivan," the Governor told him, "you said every emissary was here. There's only four. The Order's emissary is missing." Then the Governor went over to the table prepared for him, leaving Sullivan's guard to arrange themselves behind him.

The four emissaries had been cordially conversing when the Governor entered, but now they went to their respective seats, and did not deign to glance at one another, their eyes fixed on the man they were competing for.

"I had wanted all five of the factions to be represented here, but instead we'll have to do this without the Reds. You emissaries come here to convince me to join your respective factions. You will each be allowed to talk, and then I will decide. I have allowed all four of you here, for I wish to have no back-room deals during my reign."

He nodded at the Institution's emissary. "You shall begin."

"Join us, Lustek," began the Institutional, "Hadar shall benefit beyond even your reforms. You have heard rumors, no doubt, of Institution-wreaked destruction. I tell you now that such rumors are greatly exaggerated, and everything we have done is for the betterment of humanity. We are the tried and test road. We have nothing to offer as proof but empirical evidence, the kind you can see for yourself. I tell you now that we have made our society better. Where once women and children cried out on the streets for food, the arrival of the Institution has brought them nothing but joy. Your independence only harms you, and with the power of the Institution behind you, you'll find yourself made the better for it. " The emissary sat.

The Governor nodded in appreciation and thanks. Then he gestured for the Genesis emissary to begin.

"I can offer you nothing but strength and longevity," said the Genesian, "I see you are an old man now. With us, you can regain your youth. And not only you, we do not play on your greed. We can offer such rejuvenation for your entire people. Not only that, but we offer the removal of all disease, and the ability to be even stronger than you were in your prime. We are making humanity perfect, and we ask you to join in the journey. Joining us will benefit you immediately, and the future will bring even greater rewards. When you have a long life, and unending strength, what will worry you. Mistakes can be righted in the course of a few years."

The Governor gazed intensely at the emissary for a while, and then he glanced at the Initiative's emissary.

"The Technocratic Initiative will bring you out of the dark ages," smiled the Initiative's emissary, "What good is anything offered here if you have not the power to keep it? Alone, you produce nothing of technological value. Your very weapons are inferior, and everything that is new of yours is but third or fourth generation to me. If you wish to keep your system, you must have the cutting edge. And we will bring you this. Everything that is offered here keeps you in your place, but merely changes superficial things. We offer a revolution not only in technology, but in the way you live and interact with technology."

The Governor nodded and then turned to the last emissary.

"Worldly pleasures. Pure hedonism, nothing more," said the Unitologist, "those who give their souls to Unitos truly understand. Gain salvation for your soul in the next life, and you will be richly rewarded in this one. I have been on the Hajj to Abrigo, and let me tell you... the miracles described to you by preachers do it no justice. I have seen miracles beyond belief. The slightest of these was a small war between two neighboring systems, which led to preparation for a battle. Just as these two enemy fleets approached each other, a single ship fleet in between the fleets, with a Unitologist at the helm. And this one Unitologist merely spoke to the commanders of the fleets and they turned around. A preposterous story, but true! And for those who worship Unitos, there are many more like them."

The Governor sat in contemplation for a long time. Then he stood up. "I have read the facts and the arguments you sent ahead of your arrivals. I wished to get your closing arguments, and you have been most obliging. I cannot choose the Institution. For I cannot abide a faction that would sacrifice one life to better the lives of others. I would rather see all equally bettered. I cannot join the Genesis, for I think you are lying to me outright. I know that your beauty on the outside is marred by the corruption on the outside. Your strength and longevity come from the machines that keep you alive. You are abominations. As for the Initiative, I will trust not to the gun or the machine, but the people who hold and run them. The quality of people will always triumph over the quality of technology. And as for religion... I've always suspected it is more coincidence and timing than divine intervention. Hadar will remain free. And if any of you see the people of the Spectre Order, you can tell them as much."

With that he strode off, Sullivan and the guard falling in behind him.

Sullivan came into the Governor's chambers later. "What did you think, Sully?" asked the Governor. "It was spectacular. I haven't felt so strong since I was a young man, fighting against faction tyrants. That might have been the defining moment of the my rule. 'Aged Lustek faces down the factions and keeps Hadar free.' I could win re-election on the headlines alone."

"Sir," said Sullivan, "the Spectre Order sends a message."

"What is it?" asked the Governor.

Sullivan took the Governor by the shoulder and rammed his knife into the Governor's gut, "Remember," he said, twisting the knife, "that you are mortal." He stabbed upwards, piercing Lustek's heart, and then withdrew the blade, releasing the dying man at the same time. The Governor crumpled to the floor.

Sullivan wiped his knife clean on some documents, then sheathed it and silently went out of the room, closing the door behind him. Outside, the storm was breaking.