“Yes.” Endymion agreed fervently. “Our comparative age to the Fringe, especially given how large the time gap between our colonization and theirs was, means they have had centuries, in some cases, to out-develop and out-build us. The staggered nature of human colonization as a whole has left a diaspora of colonies that seem to have been intentionally forced into tiers of capability.”

Arthur hummed in thought at Endymion’s words and turned to look out of the window in thought. The sentiment struck a deep chord within Arthur, one that reminded me of something he’d largely let lapse into his suppressed memory. He never forgot things, after all, thanks to his gene-tailoring—but he did lose sight of things that were not immediately important.

Gene-tailored memory was very difficult to explain, he’d learned already.

The idea of a grand design behind human expansion was a very commonly held theory, however. The fact it had never officially been confirmed was almost irrelevant given how widespread the belief was, especially in the Fringe and apparently the Rim too, if Endymion was any indication.

“Kingmaker theory?” Arthur asked when the name came to him.

“It would make sense.” Endymion growled with a nod. “It was Terra that initiated the expansion in earnest eight centuries ago. Why did they only send out the colony ships in waves, and why take such care to ensure that each cluster even within the Core held largely homogenous populations across each planet of its habitable systems? Populations whose cultures, in many cases, had rivalries and natural frictions dating back to the bronze age of our species and beyond?”

“I admit I’ve heard the same in Aurelia before.” Arthur said honestly while turning back to Endymion. “The Charlemagne cluster contains Aurelia, Svartheim, Colchis, and Rasputin just to name the major four. If I named all twelve, it’d be a checkerboard of conflicting ideologies and values There does seem to be some measure of commonality in how naturally in-conflict each cluster’s colonized star systems are.”

“And what better way to ensure that no one can ever rise to challenge Terra’s primacy than to make common purpose a doomed dream?” Perseus asked conversationally from the driver’s seat. “It’s an open secret that the Grand Imperium has access to some sort of interstellar communications array, and yet the technology has never been shared.”

That, Arthur knew, was a sore point even in the Fringe.

Some glimmer of understanding surfaced within him when Endymion mentioned the technology, but that understanding vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“It’s brilliant in its own way." Endymion continued while oblivious to Arthur’s thoughts. "Create the seeds for inevitable conflict, and disallow anything approaching real-time communication between star systems. It even limits most militaries from waging overly ambitious wars, given that logistics and a command and control loop become harder and harder to sustain over longer distances.”

Arthur smiled wryly despite the topic. “You almost sound like you approve of it now, Endymion.”

“I’m a warrior, Arthur.” The Kidemónas said firmly. “More than anything else, I respect the bold brilliance of what has been done. Terra has castrated the greater Humanosphere’s natural cooperation enough that we will never be able to dream of challenging its power with any sort of united front, but has left us with enough capability that we will be too busy warring with our neighbors over resources and territory to truly care.”

“Designating a galactic standard language seems to play into it as well, I suppose.” Arthur admitted with a sigh. “A universal tongue for communication allows the hundreds of nations of the Humanosphere to negotiate, argue, and cycle through periods of peace and war—but it is never quite enough of a bridge for true understanding en masse, because it’s outweighed by the sheer immensity of cultural opposition in each cluster.”

“So you do understand.” Endymion said approvingly.

“I do.” Arthur said while turning back to the view, and feeling a stirring of discontent within himself he couldn’t quite identify. “I just wish it didn’t make so much sense.”

“As do we, Arthur.” Endymion growled. “As do we.”

Silence reigned within the car again while Perseus guided it toward their destination, and it wasn’t until almost ten minutes later that it was broken once more—this time by the younger of the two Kidemónes.

“We’re here.” Perseus said while smoothly landing the vehicle.

Arthur took a moment to just see the building.

It was built not unlike an Ancient Greek temple, with twelve marble steps twenty meters in width leading up to a set of open double doors, and an overhang connected to a set of colonnaded white columns built of the same marble as the steps.

A massive golden eagle perched over the doors, and appeared to be gripping three lightning bolts in its talons, while its eyes stared down as if it could see Arthur.

He shivered for reasons he couldn’t quite define and looked at Endymion.

“Is me going in there looking like I just stepped off a starship going to be an issue?” Arthur asked while gesturing to his combination of boots, jeans, long-sleeved shirt, and jacket.

“I wouldn’t expect so.” Endymion said while opening his door and stepping out.

Arthur opened his own door to step out, and Perseus turned to him when he did.

“Don’t worry about the clothes, Arthur. You’re still better looking than most living humans in Graecia regardless.”

“What the hell, Perseus?” Endymion said in surprise.

“It’s just the damn truth, brother. He may as well go in there with confidence. I certainly wouldn’t want to meet the Lion Duchess while worrying about my appearance.”

“The Lion Duchess?” Arthur asked curiously.

“You’ll find out.” Endymion said gruffly. “Come on.”

Arthur eyed the eagle hesitantly, but followed the pair inside regardless.

In the back of his mind, the compulsion urged him on.