As the days turned into weeks, Ryan and his crew found themselves slipping into the rhythm of life on Relinom, though “waiting” had quickly proven itself a challenging occupation. Having left behind their own galaxy and with no immediate path forward, they filled their days learning about their new environment, each dawn bringing the faint hope that today might be the day they’d finally hear something about Proxima. The organization they’d agreed to join as their last resort was a vast, powerful entity, a Type 4 civilization that held sway over incomprehensible spans of space and time. Even with that knowledge, the search for their galaxy seemed a delicate, intricate process that could not be rushed.
Over time, Ryan and his crew were encouraged to contribute within the organization's headquarters, gaining firsthand experience in the workings of a Type 4 civilization. The scale and sophistication were astonishing; this wasn’t just any organization—it was a governance structure that extended across galaxies and sectors beyond count. Even the HQ staff on Relinom, who seemed but a fraction of the total workforce, functioned like parts in a cosmic machine, their duties seamlessly intertwined with one another to operate smoothly across astronomical distances.
The crew was soon given insights into the basic workings of this civilization. They were introduced to a type of administrative hierarchy that made monarchies and empires from home seem minuscule in comparison. Instead of ruling nations or even planets, the Queen of this organization governed entire galaxies and galactic clusters, with each sector containing countless galaxies, each managed by advanced AI systems and councils of beings with knowledge and capabilities that were beyond human comprehension.
During one such briefing, Ryan sat with his crewmates in a vast, domed hall that projected holographic representations of galaxies. A knowledgeable administrator—who was himself part cybernetic—began describing the scope of this civilization.
“Our organization spans much of the known universe, encompassing nearly 90 percent of the observable galaxies,” the administrator stated calmly, his words reverberating through the hall. The sheer enormity of the claim stunned Ryan and his crew. Nearly the entire universe? It was a concept so vast that it felt surreal. The hologram before them rotated, highlighting clusters of galaxies in brilliant, shimmering blue.
A crewmate whispered, “They practically own the universe... How is that even possible?”
The administrator continued, “In the remaining galaxies, our influence is either indirect or under discussion with local civilizations. However, some regions remain uncharted. Not all areas of the universe are suitable for integration into our framework. In some cases, the cosmic phenomena are too volatile; in others, civilizations resist integration.”
As the administrator explained, the holographic projections zoomed out, showing clusters of galaxies in massive webs of interconnectedness. The crew watched as lines of energy pulsed between galaxies, demonstrating trade, communication, and control routes, with hubs marked by brightly glowing spheres. The webs reached farther than they could have ever imagined, each light representing an active galaxy under the organization’s influence.
Ryan found himself unable to look away. Here was a system that spanned the universe itself, a testament to the almost god-like power of a civilization at Type 4. But as he watched, another question bubbled up in his mind: If they controlled all of this, why was finding Proxima so difficult?
Sitting in the hall that day, he finally asked, “If your reach covers so much of the universe, why are there still gaps? Shouldn’t it be simple to locate a galaxy like ours?”
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The administrator’s gaze shifted to him, and Ryan sensed a flicker of caution in his eyes. “Ah,” he said slowly, “the scale of our work may be vast, but that does not make it absolute. The universe is far from fully mapped, and some galaxies remain hidden due to various... limitations.”
Ryan’s curiosity deepened. Limitations? In a civilization that operated at the level of stars and galaxies, what sort of limitations could possibly exist?
The administrator seemed to read his thoughts. “Even for us, anomalies exist,” he continued. “Dark matter and dark energy distort our sensors, making certain regions difficult to penetrate. There are areas of space where unusual phenomena hinder exploration—places where the physics you’re familiar with simply don’t apply. Some of these areas are said to host anomalies that defy explanation, even by our understanding.”
Ryan felt a twinge of suspicion. There was a possibility, he realized, that the organization was withholding information. Could it be that they knew more about Proxima but weren’t telling him? Or perhaps the galaxy itself was hidden in one of these strange regions?
A crewmate leaned closer, muttering, “Feels like there’s more to this than they’re saying.”
Ryan nodded subtly, agreeing. Even in a civilization that held power on a universal scale, politics and secrets thrived.
In the days that followed, Ryan and his crew discussed the matter privately. The awe of learning about the Type 4 civilization was tempered by a gnawing uncertainty. Their curiosity about the organization’s operations and the universal control they wielded grew sharper. Every day brought new realizations of the civilization’s complexity. In their spare time, they accessed historical data—records of how entire galaxies had been persuaded to join the organization, often after long negotiations or displays of power that could warp stars.
During these weeks of waiting, Ryan found himself questioning what he’d agreed to. Joining this organization seemed like their only choice for returning home, but at what cost? He began to wonder if he’d unwittingly bound himself and his crew to a force they could barely comprehend, let alone control. The more they learned, the smaller their place in this massive, universal order felt.
In one moment of doubt, he spoke his thoughts aloud to the crew. “We may have signed up for something we’re not prepared for. I mean, this organization controls not just galaxies but the entire universe in a sense. What’s a single human life to them?”
One of his crewmates replied, “It’s daunting, yes. But we’re in this together. And as long as they’re helping us find Proxima, it’s worth it. But if they don’t...well, I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
Meanwhile, the organization provided data and educational resources, helping the crew understand the mechanics of intergalactic travel, resource collection, and cosmic-level governance. They learned that energy resources were gathered from stars themselves, channeled through vast structures around suns and even black holes to power the civilization’s interstellar technology. They also discovered that the very fabric of time and space was manipulated for communication, allowing instantaneous messages across unimaginable distances.
It was mind-boggling, yet it also made Ryan aware of the gulf between humanity’s own Type 1 civilization and this universe-spanning Type 4 entity. How would their home planet—if they ever reached it again—perceive the vastness and might of this organization? What would Earth’s response be if it knew what Ryan and his crew now understood?
As the weeks stretched into months, their situation grew increasingly surreal. Here they were, humans from a single galaxy, surrounded by beings who could command stars and stretch across cosmic distances with ease. And yet, even within all this advancement, Ryan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was being held back. The organization’s interest in Proxima and their own limited knowledge of this organization’s true objectives left him uneasy.
One night, unable to sleep, Ryan looked out over the landscape of Relinom, taking in its strange, shimmering skies and twin moons. In that alien beauty, he reminded himself of his crew, his purpose, and the possibility of returning home. And as daunting as this alliance with a Type 4 civilization might be, it was their best hope.
They would continue to wait, to learn, and to plan. Whatever hidden motives lay within the organization, Ryan knew they couldn’t give up.