[ at the edge of your beloved eighth galaxy, you wonder if perhaps you're going insane.

two fleets have descended upon the eighth galaxy, two massively powered, heavily armored fleets of mechs ready to destroy your beloved homeland for its insurrection. it's been seventeen years since the rebellion - seventeen years since your entire world was turned upside down, and you have worked far too hard to fix the broken pieces of the galaxy into a unified whole for this to happen.

to your left is the fleet of the Interstellar Union System - the government you once belonged to. led by chief woolf, archtect of so many of your despairs, of your system's suffering, who calmly informs you that you must return to the union or face consequences. you would politely love to tell him to kiss your ass.

to the right, the fleet of the freedom corps. led by lin jingshu, lin jingheng's sister, hellbent on destroying the IUS and taking over the galaxy. hellbent on destroying everything. they launched a missile at one of your planets, earlier, and while the missile defenses held up, it could have been catastrophic.

they're holding that entire planet hostage, at the moment - planet serbia, just on the outskirts of the heart of the rose, the wormhole that connects you directly to the first galaxy, and a tiny civilian ship of refugees. that's just fine - you were aware of this, and you were aware of the fact that the central IUS troops are here to fight, too. in fact, you open the door and let them, moving your wormhole troops to manipulate the very space and time fabric to give them same passage through the dangerous heart of the rose. they may just destroy each other. you're going to give them the stage to do it.

you sit back in your chair, and then, your entire life changes, because a battered fleet of mechs appears, before the two forces can even think about trying to destroy each other, and cuts through them both like butter and creates a route for the civilian ship to zip to safety, out of the middle of a chaotic, three way battlefield. you're stunned, in the moment, staring, watching, because you don't recognize any of the mechs that are there, but a voice cuts ito the opening of your communication channel that you created to talk to lin jingshu and chief woolf, and you realize in stunning shock that the voice belongs to a ghost.

a voice you've only heard in your dreams, for the past seventeen years.

“Long time no see, everyone." says the long dead commander of the Silver Ten, Lin Jingheng. "It’s been sixteen years, but it seems like none of you have grown up even a bit.”

--

that was about ten minutes ago, and it's turned into chaos. you've lost track of all conversation as your scramble desperately for zhanlu, because you think your heart is going to explode if you have to process this and this isn't the time. you think, i've finally lost my mind. you stare at the projection, of the man with his hair just slightly grown out, skinnier than you've ever seen him but with his eyes the same fearsome gray you fell in love with twenty years ago, and you get a relaxant. the strongest one you can. the drug seeps into your system, and you take it for clarity in the insanity of this moment. chief woolf begins to argue, that the silver ten belongs to the ius. You have no right to fight against us, Lin Jingheng. Turn your weapons on the Freedom Corps and rejoin us, and we won't have you executed."

lin jingheng scoffs and starts to sail through the battlefield, not intending to help either side, why would he? he's coming back. he's coming back to the eighth. he's alive. you let the relaxant flush the nuclear explosion in your heart.

calmly. too calmly. you stand up.

you signal your fleets to move through the wormhole, and you break into the communications channel, with your voice as calm as the ocean. ]

The Silver Ninth Squadron isn’t absent today, Commander. [ the silver ninth, of course, is elizabeth turan - she's piloting your fleet. you lock your eyes onto lin jingheng's as your image appears in the communication feed, and your fleet melts out of the wormhole completely undetected. ] The Silver Ten belongs to the Union? Sorry, but I also have an objection.

[ lin jingheng looks utterly stunned. you give him a calm, gentle smile. ] Welcome back, my commander.

[ and then turn your attention like the point of a knife to chief woolf and lin jingshu. ]

My apologies, I haven’t introduced myself yet. [ courteous. diplomatic. genial. ] I am the Executive Prime Minister of the Eighth Galaxy, Lu Bixing. Our galaxy’s Galactic Expedition Team was initially exploring a newfound territory in space when we suddenly discovered the existence of an active wormhole area. We naturally passed through it and didn’t expect to arrive in the First Galaxy; we had no intention of interrupting everyone’s meeting here today. However, because our men happened to pass by and were blocked by our fellow galactic fleets here, we had to make our appearance out of courtesy to retrieve them.

[ the second in command of the IUS fleet flaps his mouth before he introduces himself in return, and you tilt your head as you explain the situation. oh, yes. we cut ourselves off from the IUS because we no longer need you. in our isolation, we created our own government. the man stammers that you can't do that, and you smile as you remind him of a lesson as you'd school a child. ]

I'm sorry, General. The meaning of an ‘Independent Government’ is that we have full sovereignty as a governing body in a fully-recognized territory. We hold equal governing rights as the Interstellar Union and are not an autonomous region within the Union. We do not recognize the legal and governing system of the Interstellar Union, nor do we need the recognition of the Union.”

[ silence. you have ten minutes until this drug wears off. the strength you've honed over the past ten years means that you are so strong that the place where you hold onto the metal of your desk is beginning to crumple under the sheer strength of your grip. (after all, you've experimented on yourself once, ten times, a thousand times, worked your opiate biochip to perfection.)

you decide to drop the metaphorical bomb. ]

Our poor rural lands in the Eighth have a population made up of vaccuocerebrals -- nobody’s even seen what Eden looks like in their lives, including myself. We’ve never been through higher education like everyone else here and were isolated from civilization for hundreds of years; these are facts that still remain relevant today. And for the Eighth Galaxy to obtain equal rights was the greatest wish of that Commander when he was alive. For me, this was the will of my father. Commander Lu Xin.

[ and just like that, you inform chief woolf with a smile on your face that not only is your revolution complete, but it comes with the legitimacy of the very commander the union betrayed years ago. you are the son of your father, commander lu xin, as you have just learned, and you are carrying on his dream, and you will not ever return to a state where anyone can take advantage of you, ever again.

you continue to speak, as calm as can be. ]

In that regard, the Silver Ten belongs to me. If you'll excuse us, I'll be taking my men, the Silver Ten, and my Commander back to the Eighth Galaxy. The wormhole is quite unstable, and we can't stay for long.

[ your fleet hums as they connect to the mechs of the silver ten, including lin's. he hasn't stopped staring at you. the drug is about to wear off, but you've almost finished, the little feral child who swept in and defied the union like it was a casual conversation.

you flick your hands over your keyboard, absently. ]

Oh right. [ as if you forgot, you add, lightly: ] Here’s a parting gift for you all.

[ and then, you hit a button.

a missile launches from your mech - it exceeds the range of an IUS missile because your engineers are the best in the world, and with no fanfare or warning, it slams directly into a freedom corps ship. there's no time for them to react, or defend themselves. not a single missile warning. the ship explodes into a fireball, sending a ricochet of chaos through the entire battlefield as it scatters the ships around it.

you speak one last time into the communication channel, once again, like you're delivering a basic lesson to a stupid child. ]

According to my observations, this particular pilot had bad aim and seemed to have misfired toward my men earlier. We may be poor, but we don’t like to also owe others, so here’s a missile in return. See you all next time.

[ Click.

and with that, you, a feral little child in the eyes of the union, turn your fleet and proudly sail away with the entire world's jaws hanging wide open at your back. ]