"Three times, did Humanity reach out from our cradle, telling the galaxy that we would like to be friends. Once, to a dead world, in the midst of being paved over. The rejection was brutal. Once, to the Mantid, who glassed TerraSol. And once, shouted as long and as loud as any angry primate could shout. Nine thousand years, did we spend sending the message this time. Our reward was near-extinction.
"Thrice warned, Humanity's duty is done. This galaxy will be our friend, or it will be our Enemy.
"And the Enemy only exists to be destroyed." -Solarian Iron Dominion founding documents
"There is only one thing in the whole universe which is more dangerous than a Terran...
"...A Terran who feels they are against a wall.
"The question if the threat is actually dire or not is irrelevant." -- Tea'cher'moo - Lanaktallan history educator - 55 ATR (After Terran Reemergence)
"[TerraSol is...]A martial law tyranny some might call fascist with limited sections of the Right of Consent overridden for the good of the state while individual nation states of the planets of the Sol System contribute to the defense of the human race and Earth itself." - Admiral Rippentear
The secure room was quiet as Violet sat down at the table.
What he was doing was unusual, but it was an unusual situation.
He had looked over the available information on the political structure of the Solarian System.
The planets were still recognized as independent from each other, but the military controlled manufacturing and resources. Each planet had multiple nation-states active, but the planetary government had imposed martial law to control the manufacturing and resource allocation.
What was interesting to Violet was the fact that several nation-states were recognized as being in resistance to the martial law control as well as the top down control. He looked over the list just for TerraSol itself. Thirty nation-states were in defiance, yet they still contributed to the resource and industrial efforts. Within those nation-states, there was still groups recognized as being in rebellion and exhibiting defiance toward the various levels of government. There were even recognized 'shadow governments' as well as several nations being 'corpocracies' underneath a thin veneer of top down control.
Voting for Solarian political issues was suspended, leadership was entirely military.
Violet frowned as he noticed that the various nation-states of the planets in the Sol System had military forces on par with some System Defense Forces he had seen during his career. Amazonia, by itself, had nearly eight thousand combat ships, including ships of the line, manned and on patrol of the Sol System, with another thirty thousand in mothballs.
Curious, he looked up the mothballed ships.
None of them were older than twenty Terran years local. They had undergone their shakedown cruises then mothballed around the super-massive gas giant Urectum. Even more curious, there were job listings for maintenance crews to bring those ships out of mothball status.
Getting up, Violet moved to the kitchen and got himself a drink.
He had looked over the Rights of Consent, then ran an enhanced virtual intelligence assistant assisted search of recent legal changes to the Rights of Consent.
All he had found was a reintroduction of conscription. Not just for military roles, but for critical industry positions. From creation engine template programming to physical construction to shipyard work.
Which, of course, had caused demonstrations as well as instructions in online spaces on how to get out of conscription.
He sipped at the drink and looked around at all the holo-emitters that were paused in the middle of videos. He walked over and picked up the spectacles and then the control wand. He set it for adult human, turned to one of the wall displays and turned on the commercial.
It was a black screen.
Words appeared. One at at time.
DO
YOUR
PART
He paused it, opening a holographic notepad. He knew what he'd see. Soldiers, sailors, horrible jobs under terrible conditions. All with stirring music and portrayed as the 'right' thing to do.
He unpaused it.
It showed a barista with facial piercings, tattoos, and multicolored hair that was slowly moving through the RGB spectrum. She was handing out coffees to customers. She looked at the screen and smiled.
"I'm doing my part!" she exclaimed in a chipper tone.
It showed a young male Terran changing the color on tiles and adjusting settings on a holographic keyboard. The Terran was labeled as "John Jane Stickenhiemer - Ceramic Tile Template Artist" and the Terran kept adjusting settings. He stopped and looked at the camera.
"I'm doing my part!"
It switched to three small children jumping up and down in a muddy puddle. They stopped.
"I'm doing my part!" they exclaimed in unison.
Violet paused and stared at it. He sipped at the TIngleberry Acid Blast Bingo Cola as he made a few annotations. Twelve seconds in.
He hit play.
An insurance adjuster. Doing her part. A government worker supervising public cleaning bots. Doing his part. A doctor performing home visits. Doing their part. A suborbital steward doing xir part. A road repair crew doing their part. Two professional sports fighters. Doing their part. The crowd. Doing their part. A violinist playing on a street corner as passerbys waved their wristband in front of a hovering robot to give tips.
Doing her part.
A scene of protestors waving signs demanding the suspension of conscription, throwing teargas and projectiles, smashing windows, destroying vehicles. Law Enforcement began arresting them. Some of them paused, looking at the camera.
"We're doing our part!" the Law Enforcement and the protestors exclaimed.
A Tukna'rn building a building as part of a work crew in the hot sun. All doing their part. A Tnvaru working in a factory overseeing robots assembling starship weaponry. Doing her part. A Telkan GalNet broadcaster delivering scathing commentary on a politicians speech being watched by an Akltak female. They paused.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"We're doing our part!" all three stated.
A Lanaktallan Senator shooting at another Senator in the Senate of the Hamburger Kingdom.
Doing his part.
A Hamaroosan female giving a rousing speech about representation in the government. Two people in the crowd looked at the camera.
They were doing their part.
The commercial went black.
ENSURE OUR SURVIVAL
THE MALEVOLENT UNIVERSE AWAITS
DO
YOUR
PART
The commercial ended and the sitcom came back on.
Violet sat down on the divan and leaned back, tapping his bladearms against his forelegs thoughtfully.
It didn't fit. The majority of the time a brutal dictatorship or tyranny attempted to hide what it was doing under more gentle titles and language.
The Terrans claimed a martial law tyrannical despotic fascist state.
But voting was still going on. Leaders were being elected. There were protests. There was artwork, poetry, and even media that spoke out against the government.
Much of the Terran entertainment was violent in nature or had danger interwoven into the media.
He got up, getting a meat stick to chew on and another Bingo Cola.
He sat down and turned on the tri-vee, blinking twice to clear the blurriness of the vision after he raised the glasses to watch the commercial with his own compound eyes instead of using the glasses to see what Terrans saw.
The commercial would seem almost benign if Violet wasn't paying close attention. Just a reminder that while only five decades had passed inside The Bad, forty-thousand years had gone by outside. A reminder that grief counseling was available to those who had lost family, and a reminder that there were support systems and networks available to all species.
He rewound the commercial, put the spectacles back in place, and watched it again.
Scenes of the Second Precursor War. Scenes of empty planets full of the dead. The screen went black.
TERRAN POPULATION - NON-LARP NON-CLONE NON-MARTIAL ORDER: 124,873,151,000,000
As he watched the population suddenly dwindled to almost nothing.
Well, not quite.
1,250,000,000 flashed on the screen.
A Terran infant curled up in the fetal position appeared, slowly raising up out of the blackness.
The number began to creep up, then exploded.
It ended at 135,640,000,000 and kept going before stars began to appear. Suddenly there was a complete starfield.
The number was still rising.
The infant opened its eyes.
They were burning with a crimson light.
Five words rose up beneath the infant.
WE DIDN'T HEAR NO BELL
The commercial ended.
He couldn't explain why, but that commercial chilled his ichor even more than the "Do Your Part" commercial.
The next commercial showed a male Terran in torn clothing, bloody face, bloody hands, holding them up in a fighting stance. Invisible fists pounded him until he fell back against the wall. He looked up, his face bloody, lips smashed and split, eyes swollen, two teeth missing. He pulled an Atrekna down on them and they struggled for almost five second before there was a loud snap and the Atrekna dissolved.
The fighter looked up and the viewpoint switched to the fighter's POV.
Above him stood different species. Lanaktallan, Telkan, Akltak, Hamaroosan, Tukna'rn, Rigellian.
The Rigellian female pulled the fighter to his feet, then turned to face the shadowy figures, raising her fists in defiance as the Terran male spit blood off to the side and raised his own hands.
"WHO STILL STANDS WITH US?" appeared on the screen.
Violet turned off the tri-vee and then took off the spectacles, setting them on the table. He took a sip off his Bingo Cola and took a bite of the meatstick.
He got up and paced back and forth.
Martial Law meant the suspension of civil liberties, control of the government by the military, the courts and law in control of the military. Violet knew this. He had seen it repeatedly during his career.
He looked up the legal system of the Solarian System.
A Uniform Code of Military Justice. Military courts and tribunals.
For all citizens two steps or less removed from military operations. For citizens engaged in hostile actions against the Solarian military forces. All other 'lesser' crimes or 'crimes regarding local governments' were turned over to the local government, although it could be appealed for a military court.
He paced back and forth again.
Why? Why complicate it? Why claim the system was under martial law when the individual planets each possessed independent nation states that handled law and punishment under their own laws unless it was two steps or less proximity to military affairs.
He sighed, tossing the can into the reclamator and punching up a new one.
He sipped at it and closed his eyes, wiping away all of his preconceived notions.
He started with the martial law, examining what civil liberties were revoked or modified.
The Lanaktallan had their Right of Medical Consent suspended en-masse nearly fifty years ago for a four year period. Violet looked up why. The Lanaktallan had been unable to consent due to neural scorching, suspending their ability to consent, and so the State had been forced to make consent for them.
Nearly eighty-five percent of the surviving Lanaktallan had been healed of severe neural scorching.
Their Right of Medical Consent had been reinstated once they had passed neurological testing.
Conscription. Of course. Except, conscientious objector, vital industrial employment, and other waivers. There was something else. It took a few minutes to find.
Any military members who were put under conscription were listed under "Cryo-Reserves" and listed as Conscripted. The date of release from Cryo-Reserves was listed as "To Be Determined".
Violet frowned.
Right of Free Travel. Revoked for military areas.
An attempt to restrict Right of Self Defense had been defeated repeatedly.
Violet sighed. It was confusing.
He moved to legal. Again, it seemed like the individual nation-states and the sub-domain states within the nation-states handled the majority of legal issues.
Fascism. All things belong to the State. There, it was clear. The gas giants were made property of the Solarian Iron Dominion, to be held in trust of the Solarian People. The Solarian People would be monetarily compensated for the mass used from the gas giants. Critical industries reported to the State and were subject to inspection. Those industries answered to the Solarian Iron Dominion, not the local nation-states, for output and production.
He shook his head.
He moved to the tyranny part. All power regarding the Sol System rested on the Solarian Iron Dominion. Defense. Offense. Protection of Property of the State.
He paused and double-checked.
The people were, ultimately, property of the state.
The State was empowered to move unilaterially to protect property of the state without political interference.
The people were a Tier One resource.
Violet shook his head.
It was confusing.
He went back to studying.
0-0-0-0-0
The door opened and Violet ushered his guest inside.
He had to admit, she was impressive. A two point two meter tall warm blooded reptile, covered in rippling muscle, with eyes forward facing to denote a predator.
A Rigellian female.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me in a more comfortable and informal setting," Violet said. He expressed pleasure, manifesting a happy emoji between his antenna.
"I thought it interesting enough to see what you wanted," the Rigellian, one Ms. Nargwark
"You have signified to my office that you are finished communicating with your home system and are ready to rejoin the diplomatic efforts," Violet said.
She nodded, sitting down on the couch when Violet motioned.
"Wine?" Violet asked.
"Please. Blush," Ms. Nargwark
Violet poured a glass of blush and then got himself a Countess Crey Supra-Fancy Sparkling Cider for himself. He sat down and stared at the other diplomat.
"You do not seem as concerned as the others," Violet said.
Ms. Nargwark
Violet nodded. "I would like your opinion. I have been researching, and I have come to conflicting and contradictory conclusions."
Ms. Nargwark
Violet just got straight to the point.
"Do you think the Terrans..." he started.
"Humans," Ms. Nargwark
"Pardon?" Violet said.
"They aren't Terran Descent Humanity. Not any more. Not even Earthlings," the Rigellian said. She smiled and leaned forward slightly. "They're humans. The same humans that saved my people, saved our ducks, saved our ducklings. Fought our planet itself to save us."
Violet just nodded, making a mental note to find out after the meeting what the difference was.
"Do you think the humans will rejoin the Confederacy?" he asked.
Ms. Nargwark
"Why not?" Violet asked.
The Rigellian stared at the wall for a moment. "They'll fight the Mar-gite. They'll fight whoever is building The Hellspace Wall. They'll fight whoever is xenociding the Slappers," she looked at Violet. "They'll fight. They will scream and rage and fight and die, but make no mistake, they will fight."
She stared at the wall. She smiled slowly, flexing her biceps to make the muscle stand out as she made a melodic humming noise for a moment.
Before Violet could say anything, she continued speaking, still smling.
"And they will win."