A good sign perhaps? They just seemed to hover around, buzzing about their tasks in the system, ignoring his research craft. He was thankful that at least it did not present a problem.
Because he had a more pressing issue: unemployment.
In his rush to expand, sending his engineering vessels to further systems, building their orbital command centers and orbital facilities, the clone population steadily grew. The last time he checked, the population figure had been at 29. It now stood at 32. Jesus, they are really churning them out of those vats. These were hundreds of millions of new people.
First, noticing his resources, he began seeing the increasing drain these new clones were having on his consumer goods and food:
- Power Units: 878 +45 (Vesperan Standard Monthly Gain)
- Raw Materials: 495 +28
- Food: 494 +6
- Heavy Compounds: 82 +11
- Consumer Goods: 55 -2
- Research Points: +55
- Cohesion: +176
Another problem was that he needed more Heavy Compounds to increase the size of the navy so that he could shore up the security of Neptura, which was equally as important as the unemployment problem. The aliens may be quiet for now… But that is not to say they will be quiet for long.
The Consumer Goods stockpile was quickly running out. With how fast he was able to pass time in the GCI, he could quite literally see that number tick down as the minutes went by. He had to solve it, now.
“Athira, show me the internal market for Neptura, please,” Marcus said. “We need Consumer Goods. Now.”
“Yes, excellency.” The interface displayed the market, showing him the various prices for consumer goods. Much like in his home world, the markets functioned similarly in that a greater quantity of goods bought at once came out cheaper, just at a higher upfront cost. Bulk buying.
He browsed the rates:
+50 Consumer goods for -121 Power Units
+250 Consumer goods for -609 Power Units
+500 Consumer goods for -1237 Power Units
The rest he did not bother thinking about, since he could only afford +250 Consumer Goods if he really wanted them with his current funds of 878 Power Units. But he also needed Heavy Compounds for more corvettes.
The Heavy Compounds rates were:
+25 Heavy Compounds for -123 Power Units
+125 Heavy Compounds for -621 Power Units
+250 Heavy Compounds for -1262 Power Units
Again, further quantities did not bear thinking about.
With this information in mind, Marcus placed an order of +50 Consumer Goods to increase his stockpile, and an order of +125 Heavy Compounds. The two transactions left him with 136 Power Units.
With the Heavy Compounds, he commissioned another corvette and another engineering vessel from his orbital command center to shore up security and speed up expansion as his research crafts continued charting new systems.
I don’t like relying on this market to sustain the state, Marcus thought, rather irritated. It never made good business sense, having deficits and relying on outside sources, but many of these factors were outside his control. Much like a force of nature, he merely had to adapt to the circumstances and do what he could. For the time being, this was all he could do. God help him if he ran out of Power Units. I’ll need to begin investing into the planet’s industrial capacity soon. Curse these aliens for their distraction!
Once the corvette was completed, it was sent with the rest of his fledgling fleet to the Eryndal system.
Then, he let the timer tick along, waiting for his resources to build back up little by little until it finally happened.
Athira displayed a notification for him:
MAJOR UNEMPLOYMENT ON NEPTURA
Unemployment is reaching critical levels on Neptura, leading to a decline in living standards and creating fertile ground for low scale criminal enterprises to flourish, who exploit the desperation of the poor.
A short term solution would be the implementation of state benefits. While costly in the short term, this will allow for the time to establish a sustainable plan for construction and job growth.
Alternatively, we could ignore it at the risk of reducing the planet’s stability further and letting living standards fall.
Marcus sighed. “For god’s sake! How the hell am I supposed to build a navy and build Neptura at the same time!” He almost felt like a frightened deer trapped between a pack of wolves and the end of a high cliff face. Either path bore destruction.
He considered the options: ignore it and risk instability or provide the masses with welfare benefits at the expense of state resources. The latter would cost further Consumer Goods, a resource in which he was already in a deficit. His clones may be obedient, but how long would such loyalty last when they have empty stomachs while sitting around with nothing to do all day?
Not to mention, a lack of stability would cause his economy to suffer as well, reducing the planet's general production of resources.
That was a risk he was not willing to take. He could not face some kind of breakdown of society or revolt when he had unknown alien fleets on his doorstep. Providing benefits seemed like the right thing to do. What was that saying, give them bread and circuses?
“Institute state benefits, Athira. I will deal with this problem now.”
“As you wish, excellency,” the AI said, and the notification disappeared.
Once that timer began ticking again, he saw his Consumer Goods drop further. From -1 to -13 a month. His heart soared. “-13, fuck!” Now this was unsustainable.
As much as he wanted to panic, call a meeting, talk to someone, whatever, he knew what needed to be done and got to work. First, he bought another batch of Consumer Goods on the market with his remaining Power Units to swell up his stockpile (a resource in which he thankfully had in abundance, and that +45 per month was really saving his ass).
He clicked back onto Neptura to begin resolving the deficit. All his building slots were taken, so he could not construct a new building to provide jobs unless he spent 500 Raw Materials for the construction of an Urban Zone, which would help but wouldn’t be enough. He instead tapped into his stockpile of Raw Materials and spent 500 of them to create an Industrial Zone, which would provide jobs and housing with the added benefit of increasing Consumer Goods and Heavy Compound production.
It would take 500 days to build, which sounded long, but with how he was used to time passing in the GCI, he knew that wasn’t a great deal of time. The benefits would keep the people docile in the meantime, and more Consumer Goods could be bought on the market until the zone was complete.
Marcus breathed a small sigh of relief. It wouldn’t be over, but it would be a start. Looking on Neptura, he could see that the unemployment figure stood at 5, representing 5 populations. My god, that's hundreds of millions of people. If anything, it was a testament to how advanced Neptura and this civilization really was. By his own standards on Earth, this would be catastrophic. But Earth was primitive compared to this.
After those were out of the way, Marcus then turned his attention to a recently charted system, the Aestara system, which yielded some interesting discoveries. A simplistic looking system on the surface with six planets orbiting its bright yellow star. A majority of them rocky, uninhabitable worlds, as well as one gas giant, but the most interesting planet was a blue pearl orbiting nearer to the star than the others. It had a small icon above it.
Looking over the planet, designated Aestara 1, Marcus could see this was a habitable world consisting of a rich, stable atmosphere of oxygen and nitrogen and a massive ocean, much like Neptura, along with enough landmass to sustain a civilization. Upon inspecting the planet further, he could see that it could be colonized.
Interesting, he thought. But amidst all he had to deal with, going about building a new colony would be another burden on his resources, one which he could not afford to bear until his other problems with the Eyndal anomalies and unemployment on the homeworld were cleared up. It could probably help my unemployment issue… I could just ship them all to a new world! But even then, the initial investment of setting the whole thing up was simply too much. Even just gandering at it, he saw that the construction of an Ark Ship (which was needed to set up a colony) cost 200 Consumer Goods, 200 Food, and 200 Heavy Compounds. So he couldn’t even afford it. Still, he put it in the back of his mind to bring up during the next meeting with his ministers. This would interest them greatly.
Next was an important discovery event within the Aestara system, in the form of a notification titled:
THE GOLDEN COVENANT
Artifacts discovered on Aestara 4 suggest the existence of a powerful interstellar empire we believe to have been called ‘The Golden Covenant.’ Based on the relics and partial records uncovered, this civilization was a vast union of various alien species that coexisted—whether in harmony or through brutal repression, we know not—thousands of cycles ago. The Golden Covenant appears to have united this web of various alien cultures through one fanatical religion.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The Aestara system seems to have been a crossroads amidst a vast interstellar territory, prospering from trade and tourism. A fragmentary star map found among the artifacts indicates that the Golden Covenant’s influence spread across a vast portion of the galaxy before their eventual decline and collapse. The cause of their decline remains a mystery, but their legacy endures in the ruins and technology scattered across the stars.
Marcus read the information with interest. Could this be the same civilization that built the Dyson Sphere now claimed by Neptura? Or could it be the one who destroyed it… Maybe the aliens they had discovered were once part of this ‘Golden Covenant.’ It would be worth bringing up to Claric, in any case.
Speaking of the clone scientist, Claric’s department had still not managed to decipher the alien communications despite constant effort, with an unintelligible, static noise being the only thing coming through on their transmitters every time they tried to listen in.
Nevertheless, he and Claric had more pressing matters to deal with that required some maneuvering outside of the GCI, so he unplugged himself and left the command room.
This was a meeting of a different sort, a secret meeting, in which Marcus would need some sort of excuse as to why he was going where he was going.
Plus, he wanted another break from the GCI. As he got up off that chair after spending months-to-years in it, he found that it made his joints ache and gave him a strange buzzing in his mind. He always terribly needed a drink to mend his parched throat whenever he left it.
Rolling his shoulders, he felt a satisfying crack in his stale bones as he exited the command room. The buzz it left in his mind lingered, and he still saw faint cyber overlays flashing in his peripheral vision. With a low sigh, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes to dispel the ghostly remnants of the interface.
The corridor outside was silent, dimly lit by strips of pale lights embedded in the walls. His personal clone guards fell into step behind him without a word. Marcus didn’t acknowledge them by now, but it still felt weird having his own security force. He kind of liked it, it made him feel important.
It was a short walk to the shuttle bay, where his stratoship awaited, prepped and ready to go. The sleek, metallic hull of the ship gleamed under the harsh white lights of the hangar bay. A small crew, all bearing his own face, stood to attention as he approached. Marcus waved them off with a dismissive nod, and they made ready to depart.
He took his seat in the main quarters of the ship, a comfortable chair by the window, and the ship took off. The thrust of the engines beamed it forward, and the command complex became tiny under him, quickly giving way to the vast, endless ocean of Neptura. They cut through the clouds while the sun reigned over the peaceful, empty heavens. Before long, the dark, endless expanse of stars unrolled like a vast cosmic canvas.
The curved, blue surface of the planet arched below, showing its spherical shape at long last. A beam of sunlight rimmed the arch, with the star shining as a bright ball of fire. He smiled in awe at the untainted, natural beauty of it all. Well, I never thought I’d tick space travel off my bucket list. In his own personal plane, at that! He could have never imagined such a thing in his wildest fantasies back home.
Slowly but surely, the orbital command center loomed ahead. A vast, floating metal complex, buzzing with work ships and cluttered with the half built hull of a corvette. Even from here, he could tell how big the starship was. He couldn't help but gaze wide eyed through the window at it. His lips moving but no words came out.
It was fucking massive. No other words for it.
Even half built, the hull easily dwarfed the largest aircraft carrier he had ever seen on Earth. Just looking at the corvette made him feel a little more at ease about the alien threat. By the looks of it, just two of those things could destroy every army on Earth combined without breaking a sweat. And it's manned by people bred for war.
They always looked so small in the GCI—little specs whizzing around when he commanded them to. So small, they looked like he could pick them up with two fingers. Thus is the burden of a god…
The stratoship slowly pulled into a hangar bay of the command center, coming to a smooth landing. He stepped off when the ramp was down, where Claric was already waiting for him with an escort of clone guards. He looked humble as ever, in his simple white tunic and grey trousers. Claric saluted Marcus as he approached.
“Grand Archon,” he greeted with a monotone voice. “I trust you had a pleasant flight?”
“Yes,” Marcus said. “Never thought I’d get to go to space before. Tell me, where is Valen?”
“He will be on the main observation deck or in his office,” Claric said.
“Does he know I’m here?” Marcus asked. “Officially, I am here to inspect our corvettes, which I must say look impressive.”
“That they are.” Claric smiled. “And I suspect he knows by now, though I’m sure he’ll be surprised by your presence.”
“Good,” Marcus said, and they proceeded to walk out of the busy hangar bay that rang with the clanking and clicking of heavy machinery. “These type of coincidences are the sort we need to have plausible deniability for, lest the other ministers wonder why we’re all meeting together.”
“Of course,” Claric said, striding by his side. “I’ll take you to him now. He will make time for the Grand Archon.”
The two walked, followed by the marching drum of a group of clone guards. They passed scores of uniformed men, labourers, soldiers, and officers alike, all standing to attention and saluting as their creator walked by them. All the same face. All him. It never stopped feeling weird, like he was in some kind of fever dream. By this point, he would get sick of even looking in a mirror.
An elevator took them to the upper decks of the base, and eventually they made their way into an observation deck, where the giant window at the end of the hall gave a lush view of Neptura below. Its red moon, Korrath, floated like a rocky orb far in the distance. Above the moon were the twinkling lights of the orbital mining facility that Marcus himself had commissioned.
Uniformed clones worked at long rows of desks, analyzing charts, dashing information onto their holo screens, and speaking through microphones. Across the room, by the glass wall that stretched from floor to ceiling, Valen stood talking to some other high ranking officers against the backdrop of the cosmos, which was dotted with the faint twinkles of stars and ships.
The War Minister’s brow furrowed when he heard the clatter of Marcus’s guard, now ignoring the document he had been handed by one of his officers. He wore a sleek, decorated white uniform. A general’s cap sat atop his head, the silver eagle gleaming under the holo lights. He clicked his heels and saluted. “Grand Archon. Claric,” he addressed, dismissing the officers. “I was surprised to see your ship approaching. Had you informed me, we could have arranged a proper fighter escort. May I ask, what is the meaning of this visit?”
Marcus paced around him, looking at the blue planet beneath his feet. “Oh, I just needed to stretch my legs,” he jested, though there was no humour in his tone. “And to inspect my corvettes.” He glanced at Valen with a raised brow. “That is my official reason, anyway. May we have a chat in private?”
The clone general looked puzzled. “Hmm, of course. My office is not far. I can have my men escort Claric—”
“Claric will be joining us, this concerns him too,” Marcus said, holding his hands behind his back.
“Very well.” Valen regarded Claric carefully, then led them into a small, quiet office. Soft red rugs lay across the floor, embroidered with elegant golden patterns that formed majestic symbols. Spherical glowing orbs were embedded into the steel walls, giving a white glow to the room. Valen took his high chair at his desk and pressed a button. Two circular chairs with backrests shot up from the floor, and he beckoned them to sit.
“I know we’ve had our disagreements, Valen,” Marcus uttered the words carefully, taking his seat as Claric sat behind him. “Particularly about how to handle our… neighbours in Eryndal.”
The clone’s jaw tightened. “What’s done is done. The policy of the government has been decided. My duty as a soldier is to carry out that policy.”
“You were the one advocating for a hostile stance,” the Grand Archon spoke. “A show of strength. I did publicly caution against it, but I do see your rationale. I agree with you in principle.”
Valen blinked, almost giving his head a little wobble. “So why not give the order for attack? The others would have obeyed you.”
Marcus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I mean to say that there is value in certain actions that are unsanctioned. The hand that moves in the shadows often achieves what the one in the light cannot.”
“I don’t understand what you mean to say,” Valen said.
Marcus leaned back, glancing at Claric. “Claric proposed an interesting idea to me not long ago. Claric, explain it to him.”
“Of course, excellency.” Claric nodded, then turned to address Valen. “Intelligent alien life can provide us with many insights about biology, and even the history of the galaxy. It will also aid us to learn their language faster, atop all of the obvious military advantages such as understanding our adversaries. We may gain insight into how much of a threat they truly are. Learning about their psychology, technology, their way of life… could prove invaluable.
“My plan to the Grand Archon proposes… acquiring… one of these specimens for my team to study.”
The War Minister leaned back, rubbing his beard. His sharp gaze narrowing.
“That’s where you come in, Valen,” Marcus finished.
“You want me to abduct one?” Valen asked.
Claric grinned. “Precisely. Even a humble man of learning such as myself knows that you must know your enemy in war. All data we gather gives us leverage. This isn’t just about science but about strategy—”
“I need no lectures on military strategy from you, labcoat,” Valen snapped, a venom in his tone. “I was drafting doctrine on stellar warfare when your head was still buried in your holobooks. I hope you understand this little plot of yours risks provoking war, which is in direct contradiction to the government’s stance on the matter.”
“Suddenly you’re against that?” Claric barked back. “A first strike was your idea.”
“Oh, I’m ready for it,” Valen said, quiet now, though he leaned forward. “The question is, Claric, are you?”
The clone scientist gulped, and he appeared to shrink before the general.
“Calm down.” Marcus held his hand up for silence. “The risk for war already exists no matter what we do. They have been silent with us for nearly a year, which has emboldened me a little. We may as well try to gain some kind of strategic advantage. Who’s to say they won’t try the same with us? I do not advocate for blind aggression, nor do I want to provoke a war. This is a precise, surgical operation that, officially, is not happening. Even if they did declare war, it would be them attacking us, not the other way round, which will unify the council.”
Claric nodded, more emboldened now that Marcus spoke up. “We need only nab one of them.”
Valen’s narrow gaze honed in on Claric. “Easier said than done,” he muttered with a calm tone, then looked to Marcus. “But it can be done, your excellency. I can deploy a troop carrier in Eryndal in quick time and have a commando squadron prepped to carry out the operation. The aliens look to be mining the planets in the system similar to how we mine ours. My recommendation would be to capture one of their miners. Some lowly labourer missing will attract less attention. But their orbital stations are likely guarded… And we have observed their own attack ships flying around the system.”
“I have faith in your expertise to navigate those challenges without my input, general,” Marcus said.
The War Minister nodded and then stood. “I will summon my officers now and plan the operation immediately, your excellency. I must say, I have underestimated you. This initiative is… surprising, to say the least.”
Marcus smiled, extending a hand for Valen. He shook it. “Your confidence strengthens me, Valen.”
Claric stood up, making ready to leave. “When you capture a specimen, have it brought to one of my research crafts, and we’ll hide it away somewhere in a distant system to study and pry open its secrets.”
“As you wish,” Valen said, walking them out of his office. “Your excellency, I must ask… Do you have some personal interest in the capture of this specimen? I can’t help but wonder about all the secrecy, but of course, my lips will be sealed.”
Of course I do, Marcus thought, keeping a stoic face at Valen’s question. They could boast longer lifespans than us. Their DNA could be the key to my mortality issue… “The security of Neptura is my only concern. I may not be from around here, but I know a thing or two about war.” He winked at the War Minister with a grin, and they were escorted out.
Claric joined him on the stratoship for the flight back to Neptura. They both sat in the main deck by the window, facing each other. As the ship took off, Claric said, “Do you think Valen suspects anything?”
Marcus gazed out of the window, his chin resting on his hand. “Let him suspect. He’s a soldier, not a politician. Suspicion won’t stop him following orders. It’s what he wanted, anyway… loosely.”
Claric inclined his head, now looking at the expanse of space as the ship flew back to Neptura. “He was right about provocation, though. Do you think it can come to war if he botches it?”
“Possibly,” Marcus said, surprisingly unconcerned about that. “If it does, and we win, we’ll be heroes. If it backfires, and we lose, we blame the folly on Valen and tell the other ministers and the aliens that the state did not sanction this operation and knew nothing of it. We can have him resign or court martialled as a result, and hopefully everything will be fine.” And I’d be rid of my sharpest critic in the council. “It would be a minor diplomatic incident at best. As Valen said, they won’t give much of a toss for a single miner.”
The scientist looked at Marcus aghast, his lips moving faintly though no words came out. I’ve surprised him… Marcus thought. Oh yes, he was sneakier than they gave him credit for. And it was for this reason that only Claric was privy to these plans. He was of a caste of clone bred to be more loyal than the free thinking leadership caste. “I don’t need to remind you that you are forbidden from speaking of this to anyone, Claric?” Marcus said, glaring at him.
Claric nodded. “Of course, your excellency. Your wisdom is unparalleled.”
New chapter for the day, with many more to come!