Scenes from the Intragalactic Conference

A bright and colorful Rissi takes the stage.  Instead of the traditional green vest and red bandana of the Kallimari Military uniform, she wears a green dress and a red ribbon.  She seems nervous, glancing at the ground at first and swinging her wings beside her.

Uh.. Hello. I am Squadron Commander Thealynara Veeris, you may have heard of me because of the DELEM incident.  I have decided to speak here in front of you all because, well, I realize I hold some responsibility for all of this.  And as we all look towards the future and the new government entity we are creating; I believe there are important things for us all to keep in mind.

The occasional glances at the ground stop and she takes a deep breath, looking at the audience more directly than before.  She still seems nervous but seems to also be attempting to channel some confidence.

It must be said that I do not regret the actions I took during the DELEM incident. The drone destroyed is perfectly replaceable, while an irreplaceable and unique creature of this galaxy was protected. Some say my actions prohibited scientific research.  It is important to remember that I was on Tsing conducting scientific research myself for the Cartographer’s Guild as the lead researcher for the mission.  All data we collected is public access information and the PIA could have asked me about joining the mission and never did such a thing.  They have access to the same scientific knowledge as everyone else in this room. Either way, I felt it was my responsibility as a citizen of this galaxy to protect Tsing, and the unique creature that lives on it, from the threat of mining.

As she continues to speak, her confidence increases.  Her wings have stopped swinging, and she has planted herself more firmly in the ground.  Growing taller, rooted like a tree.

And this is what I want to remind us all of today.  The importance of protecting the beauty, wonder, and diversity of our galaxy. I am not a politician; I am a botanist. I do not know what this new interplanetary governmental organization we are here making will look like, but I do know that I want it to be one that protects the unique environments of our galaxy.

Before I joined the Cartographer’s Guild, I spent my whole life in Veeris on Kallimar. Its forests and plant life are what inspired me to become a botanist.  There is a whole host of other environments and wonders we will discover with FTL that will inspire the next generation of scientists, artists, and many other people.  We cannot go destroying these places now.  I implore you all to create a governmental body that will protect these wonders. 

I know as a group, we all understand the importance of protecting sapient life wherever we find it, but all life is valuable and the environments that support them are valuable as well.  The environments on my planet were destroyed by nuclear war and the little that survived still managed to inspire me.  Imagine how many more would have been inspired if that damage had never occurred? We cannot let the discovery of FTL just be a way to perpetuate damage across the galaxy.  We must protect these lands and be stewards of the places we find.

I’ve dedicated my life to learning how to restore Kallimar’s ecosystems using the knowledge the rest of the galaxy holds.  Let us not create a perpetual cycle of restoration of places unknown, let us preserve them.  Let us hold in celebration the diversity our galaxy holds.  Let us be the ones protecting all life in all its forms.

I will continue to be a protector of life, I hope the rest of you will be one too.

She nods her head, acknowledging her audience and leaves the podium.

Detective Garibaldi stands on the podium. Clears his throat.

Most guild members have never seen Garibaldi nervous. But perhaps if you did know Garibaldi very well, you would notice his eyes bulging a little more than normal, and you would know what that means. 

Dear delegates,

I am the head of internal security for the Guild. I have held this position for near-on the past 20 cycles. I have sought to heighten our security protocols, building in principles of modular security to every aspect of the Guild’s operations.   My name is Detective Garibaldi.  However, that is not my only name. My name is also Rainsplash Watchkeeper.  This name is a translation of a Hylan name.  The Hyla are-

Garibaldi stops. Takes a breath.

The Hyla were a sapient species who once shared this galaxy with you.
I, Rainsplash, am of Hylan descent. 
We ar- were an amphibian-type species. We had our own distinctive culture and habitat.
We developed space-faring technology. Although not faster-than-light travel.

The Hyla are, except for perhaps a handful of individuals, extinct.

Just over 20 cycles ago, at least from my perspective, I left the Hylan homeworld, a planet named Anamiph, on an expedition to colonise a neighbouring desert planet, designated SONLAND-M4. This was a desperate expedition. The planet had very little hopes of sustaining life. But we had some new plant-based technologies and it was a risk we were willing to take because, well, frankly, it was a risk we had to take.

Our homeworld of Anamiph was already dying. We were overexploiting its resources, and its people. When I left, much of the planet had been laid waste by war and by rampant extraction of resources.

I was a security officer aboard the ship. Why did we need security? Well, not only to keep us safe from pirates or rogue factions, but also from more organised endeavours. There were saboteurs, intent on ending one of the last hopes for our species.

And they succeeded.  I don’t know what happened. But someone on my own team betrayed us. They set off a series of explosions aboard the ship, forcing us into escape pods.

I escaped on one of those pods. The pods travelled very close to the speed of light. I travelled for much longer than I aged. I landed on Kalimar twenty cycles ago. I did not reveal my identity but tried to fit in as best I could, fearing this unknown civilisation. Before even a quarter had passed on Kallimar, I was noticed by Guild leads and joined the Cartographers Guild. To this very day, my true identity has remained a secret. 

Garibaldi pauses to drink some water. The room is shuffling, mumbling, reeling as quietly as it can with the significance of these claims. 

Recently, thanks to FTL travel and some other favourable circumstances, I was able to locate and visit the planet Anamiph with a team from the Cartographers Guild. We found a planet that was dead; once beautiful lakes turned to tar; once lush canopies rotted into dust; once masterful architecture bombed into ruin or eroding into the marsh. Anamiph has been barren for over a century.

My friends, a century ago, my people went extinct. Not because of any external threat, but because of their own hubris, greed and violence. My friends, every day since I landed on Kalimar and I learned to love peoples who are not my own, I have fought to keep you safe. Every security failure I observed on my homeworld, or on that ship where I last had hope for the Hylan people, I have sought to correct in Guild security, and to advise other space-faring organisations to adopt similar principles.

However, at this time, a fear within me begins to grow that there is one risk I have not accounted for. The risk that you people share with Hylans that hubris, greed and instinct to violence that they did. 

Garibaldi pauses. Large blue eyes sweeping around the room.

My friend Dr Acleaf Singreen died recently. She cared about nothing more in the world than unity. My friends, like Dr Acleaf, if I am remembered for anything, I don’t want it to be modular security. I want it to be the fact that I stood for unity. That I stood for peace. That I stood for humility and patience and compassion and… hope.

Please. Don’t despair like my people did. Don’t believe that some people, some habitats have to die for others to thrive. That’s not true, but if you believe it, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Garibaldi’s voice cracks. He struggles to go on.

I do not have the answers to the complex struggles we face. But what I know is this. We can survive if we work together. We can survive, if we trust each other. We can survive if we listen to each other.

Bear with each other, even as you disagree. Because believe me, bearing without people is so, so much worse.

Transcription of the discussion between Dr. Treya Forger, of Corico, and Poliche Goldeneye, of the Oasis Republic, at the Intragalactic Conference.

“Delegates, it is with pleasure that I, Dr. Treya Forger, representative of the renowned diplomatic think-tank, Mirago, address you. We at Mirago pride ourselves on cutting-edge geopolitical – now cosmopolitical – analyses, and I am delighted to present our thoughts on the matter concerning the Oasis Republic.

Corico has known from the start that, by joining the Cartographers' Guild, we open ourselves to the possibility of intragalactic cohabitation. Since the invention of FTL, we have had the pleasure of welcoming visitors from our closest galactic neighbours. These visitors bring innovation, economic prosperity, cultural diversity, and the opportunity for Corico to establish itself on the galactic stage. Over the last year, we have reaped the benefits of intragalactic trade, increasing GDP by 0.9% from the year before. What does all this tell you? Intragalactic cohabitation is not a bad thing.”

Transcription paused due to disruption.

“As I was saying, we should welcome cohabitation. The Selethyan have clearly stated that they wish for symbiosis, and indeed have a plan in place to rehabilitate Oasis Balra once the conflict with SNTNL ends. Meanwhile, we have had the privilege of hearing their stories and learning from their technology. Where you see a disaster, Mirago sees an opportunity.

It's time to stop being the aggressors. While our three homeworlds are in constant interaction with each other, the Selethyan are side-lined without a nearby base. We need to accept that the galaxy is bigger than us, and if we do not form alliances, we will form enemies. Do you think the Selethyan are just going to go away? Are you planning to exclude them from our partnerships? We must be flexible. We must adapt. Oasis is brimming with agricultural potential, which the Selethyan are adept at utilising. Together, with the Selethyan, we can develop Oasis into a thriving co-species hub that takes the best of both worlds. Let's quit this jealous charade. We are stronger together.”

Transcription paused due to disruption. Poliche Goldeneye speaks.

“Did you see that? A Balra without a shawl. A Balra without a culture, without a home, without any sense of attachment to the world that raised them! You all heard Dr. Forger. They are willing to hand over Oasis like a fawn to the slaughter! And for what? A nice meal? You glistening Southern think tankers know nothing about what it means to have a pack.”

Transcription paused due to disruption.

“Every world is a story! Did you think about that? All you talk about is economic gain. Meanwhile, cultures are being squeezed out of existence through rampant development. MY HOME IS NOW A GIANT NEST. Everyone in Oasis is fleeing. This is not cohabitation. This is colonialism. There's no space for Balra on Oasis. The Selethyan have no interest in integrating into our cultures! We either join the Selethyan machine, or die. In fact, we're dying now. Our campfires are unlit. Our packs are being split up. Our livelihoods, our practices… they mean nothing without the land that forged them.

Treya Forger. You may be an empty shell. You may never sing, tell stories, or weave. But just because you have killed the campfire within, doesn't mean we have to. The next time you look at the night sky, try tracing constellations instead of stock charts.”

Transcription paused due to disruption. It is difficult to fully transcribe the rest of the debate amidst the uproar.

“…actually, it's Doctor…”

“…actually, it's coloniser…”

“Poliche Goldeneye, may I ask what you propose we do–”

“Stop pretending they have our interests at heart! We–”

“Your culture will be enhanced. You will live in top-of-the-range…”

“…disgusts me! Farming is a way of life, not a…”

Transcription ended when Poliche Goldeneye is forcefully evacuated.

…“No More Room” says Corico forum, having accepted 200,000,000 refugees from Oasis…
…Veeris accepts 13,000,000 Balra refugees, trebling its size overnight…
…Accomodation for refugees “In Crisis”, says Commissioner for Alathemanay…
…Mass mobilisation of PAK Armed Wings authorised by the Executive Council to construct emergency shelters…

— Headlines and comments broadcast from a range of sources.

“Um, hey… is this…”

The balra, rifle (rendered harmless by security but still present in form) slung over her shoulder, taps the microphone once or twice.

“Ah, yup. Definitely on.”

She closes her eyes and pauses for a second, taking in and letting out a deep breath.

“S'pose y'all already knew this, but Oasis is dead. But I'm loud enough that they had to give me a timeslot to talk about it, so y'all have to listen. Just about all the Balra have left now. s'pose there's probably a few million left. 'least there's folks helping em out, and… it looks like everyone'll be off-world when the fightin' starts.

The bugs said we had a choice to stay, if we wanted to. I don't think that was really true. I mean, we could probably stay. Y'know. Physically. But it ain't possible to live on the world any more. Ain't no plants, ain't no fawns, ain't no fuckin' fish in the sea.”

Another pause.

“Ahem. Pardon me. When I was in school I heard it took three billion years for life on Oasis to evolve. A thousand million species, all part of one world. It was… my home. It took just about three days to end every last one, and I was– I was forced to watch.

Well, I ain't watchin' anymore. I'm doin'. This is on y'all's heads, but… it's on mine too. I should never have stood down when I had a hundred rifles at my back and a trench to fight in. I swear by the stars, if I find myself in that position again, I'll fire the first Dorgur-damned shot an' this time I won't stop shootin' 'til my whole world is free.

If any of you have any plans to actually do some good in this galaxy, let me know. I ain't a cold hearted woman, I don't think y'all are bad people. Until my gun is needed to take back my home, I'm at y'all's disposal.”

Rava turns and knocks the microphone down to the ground as she does, before walking off stage in silence.