Captain Miller and Commander Campbell had remained aboard ISA-EV-343398, waiting for their meeting time to arrive. Everything was proceeding apace, as it would be difficult for any imperial force to run ahead of or behind schedule thanks to the AIs in the background ensuring that “the trains ran on time.”They didn’t have to wait long before they received a notification with a link to a virtual meeting room. When they logged in, they found themselves in a large amphitheater-style room that would be instantly familiar to anyone who had attended college before: a lecture hall. Seated around them were hundreds of other ship captains and executive officers.No one was speaking; everyone simply gave each other courtesy nods when they made eye contact with someone else. But the silence didn’t last long before Huang Wei, the head of the imperial space agency, appeared on the stage in the front of the hall. Administrator Huang was a middle-aged Chinese man with salt and pepper hair and a rega
After the five minute wait, Administrator Huang opened his eyes and swept his gaze across the crowd receiving their briefing. “I see none of you left,” he said. “Good.“The empire has recently developed a new warhead as well. Dubbed the ‘black hole bomb’, it’s exactly what it says on the tin: an oversized capacitor and artificial gravity generator strapped to a rocket engine. When detonated, it creates a short-lived, yet highly destructive, black hole in a small area. ‘Small’, by the way, is a relative term. “And the only reason you’re being informed of its existence now is that we don’t want you asking about it later when you’re in potentially hostile, unsecured environments....” He continued on the topic of weapons for a while, explaining each of them in detail, then finished that portion of his briefing by asking, “Any questions?”Nobody in the lecture hall had any. At least not about the weapons of the EF and TSF, anyway, but they had already been taught not to ask questions that
As the exploration fleet was on its week of shore leave on the outposts and the partially functional Mars base was printing ship after ship, back on Earth, a press release had quietly gone out from the imperial press agency. It didn’t generate much news at first, and it was only a few sentences long, but it gradually gained momentum over the first three days after it was put out.“The Terran Empire is in search of those willing to aid in exploiting the resources of the solar system. For more information, contact your nearest imperial space agency recruiter.”As the news crept out and spread, the details were soon announced by the first people to visit the ISA in their virtual office.@Fluffy_Dog_Hugger: [This is awesome! I’m gonna go to space, man! SPACE!]@Eternal_Crusader: [@Fluffy_Dog_Hugger details? I read the announcement but haven’t checked it out yet]@Fluffy_Dog_Hugger: [@Eternal_Crusader they mapped the solar system and need asteroid jockeys to go out and mine]@Thawk7678: [@
“Quick! What’s it say!?” Everyone in the room crowded around Kim Ye-Jin, who had just taken a drink of his beer. Ye-Jin sprayed the mouthful of beer on his friends and coworkers, none of whom cared. He picked up his phone and, for the first time since he’d had a smartphone, fumbled to unlock it under the expectant gazes of his good brothers.He finally unlocked the phone and opened the email and his lips mouthed the words as he read it. Then he tossed his phone back to the tabletop in disappointment and chugged his beer before saying, “It wasn’t from the empire. But if you want bigger dicks, boy do they have some pills for you.” He laughed, then leaned back on the couch.“To be fair, even having a chance like this is the empire’s generosity. It’ll take a lot of time, effort, knowledge, and even luck to succeed. But even if we’re late to the table, we should at least be able to pick up some leftover crumbs, and that’ll be enough to cover us in the beginning.“So don’t have super high
Thanks to Hephaestus Heavy Industries opening the floodgates, more than a million new companies were registered in a very brief time. And following that, millions of patents for space-related equipment, ranging from cups and other dishes that were designed to incorporate gravity plating to ensure they didn’t spill during heavy maneuvers all the way to prospective capacitor banks and engines.It wasn’t that the empire had released their technology to the public domain, but rather that people were allowed to incorporate the tech in their design as a kind of “black box” piece that they could license from the empire. The only requirement was that, if a design incorporated publicly known empire technology, the resulting object could only be manufactured by HHI. That was in the licensing agreement, and no negotiation on that clause would be accepted at all.The empire, meanwhile, did absolutely nothing to stem the tide of the crowdsourced innovations. Quite a few things, in fact, had surpri
After a few minutes of celebrating, followed by quick showers and changes of clothes all around to wash off the sticky champagne residue, the five men in charge of Imugi-Danche called their families and friends to spread the good news.“You aren’t gonna believe this, but....”“Mom, we did it!”“Dad, our design was accepted!”“Honey, how would you like to visit space?”“Sis! Guess what?!”The calls lasted for hours until well into the night, but all of them were too excited to sleep and began a proper Korean drinking party that went all around the city, from bar to karaoke to bar to restaurant, and so on. It wasn’t until their sixth stop that they were too inebriated to move and the bartender called for a car to bring them home.......The next day.Five men were in Park Seo-Yeon’s living room nursing their hangovers and discussing their future plans.“I think we should let HHI do the manufacturing. They hold quite a few patents on black box imperial tech that we incorporated into the
Ceres station.Earth’s “second moon” had now become part of the planet’s skyline for everyone on the right side of the planet. All of what used to be Asia, half of Russia, Australia, New Zealand, and all the way to the American Midwest, people could simply look up at any hour of the day and see the enormous dwarf planet hovering in the sky. It had become quite a tourist attraction as well, as people flocked to those former countries to see the spectacle, or to Eden, where tour groups gathered to go up and personally walk around the parts of the station where construction had been completed.The only difference was the cost—touring the station itself, at least in reality, was much more expensive than simply flying to a part of the world where one could see it from the ground. Roswell, New Mexico, in particular, had become a tourist mecca, as had Sedona, Arizona, oddly enough. Roswell was understandable, as they had always had a space tourism theme, but Sedona was historically home to
A week later.Aron stood in a cavernous room in the Cube on Avalon Island, looking at the newly printed medical pods laying before him in precise columns and rows. As it turned out, actually using the first-generation atomic printers to print runic engravings into things was a much slower process than printing things without them. The process could be compared to trying to play a modern AAA video game on an old desktop computer from the 1980s.However, the tradeoff was well worth it, as he was only one person, but he had many atomic printers.He swept his gaze across the room and nodded in satisfaction as his runic heart spun into action. A slow breeze began flowing through the room as he greedily sucked the mana from his surroundings. The breeze soon grew to a small vortex of about ten feet wide before stabilizing.With the stomp of a foot, a brilliant golden runic construct appeared beneath Aron’s feet and spread throughout the entire cavernous room, slipping beneath row after row o
“Seraphina,” Aron began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of authority, “I’m not your enemy—unless you choose to make me one. I understand your anger, your frustration. You’ve lost control of a situation you believed was firmly under your command. But this predicament wasn’t my doing—you’re here because your leader chose to sacrifice you. What I’m offering you isn’t a chain—it’s an opportunity.”Her sharp eyes narrowed, the intensity of her gaze unwavering, but she held her silence. Aron leaned forward, his own gaze unrelenting as it met hers.“You can continue resisting, pushing the boundaries of the mana oath, and enduring needless pain. Or…” He paused, letting the words linger like a challenge. “You can choose to turn this situation into one that serves us both. Your strength, your insight—these are not things I wish to suppress. Quite the opposite. I want them refined, amplified, and put to meaningful use.”He motioned toward the table, where Nova was still doing fina
[Colosseum]Aron and Seraphina stood motionless, maintaining the same distance as at the start of their faceoff. Neither had moved, even during the spectacular fireworks show that followed Aron’s acceptance of her surrender. The only exception was Aron briefly waving to the citizens of his empire watching the broadcast, many of whom were overcome with emotion, crying in celebration of their historic victory. This event marked the first-ever interstellar combat they had participated in, and despite their lack of experience, they emerged as the sole victors.As cheers of triumph reverberated among his people and the disbelief of others lingered, the broadcast concluded. The moment Aron secured his final victory, the Arena itself was officially handed over to him as part of his reward, along with control of the AI referee. Without hesitation, the AI complied with her new owner’s first command: to end the broadcast. Aron had more pressing matters to attend to—a private conversation with a
[Meeting Room]Inside the Zelvora mental network, an oppressive silence hung over the gathered representatives around the meeting table. The events of the day had left them all stunned, their minds racing with the implications of what had transpired. These were not just any representatives—they were the ones who had signed off on the agreements, the architects of their civilizations’ participation in this contest.Now, they were confronted with the brutal outcome of their decisions.Many representatives sat deep in thought, their faces betraying various degrees of fear, frustration, and resignation. Those who hailed from civilizations steeped in selfish political traditions knew all too well the grim truth: scapegoats would be needed. Someone would have to bear the brunt of the blame for the humiliation, anger, and setbacks their civilizations had suffered.For many of them, the path forward seemed bleak. In the best-case scenario, they might lose their positions, exiled from the corr
To say Aron was surprised would be the understatement of the gigaannum. The announcement had obliterated every scenario he had meticulously crafted in his mind. In all his time spent in simulations, preparing for countless contingencies, not once had he considered the possibility of the Xor’Vaks surrendering—least of all without a fight.Their pride in their strength was legendary, surpassing even the vaunted arrogance of the Valthorins. For a race that reveled in their dominance, surrendering, especially on such a grand stage, was unthinkable. This sudden reversal of expectations hit him with such force that he could practically feel the metaphorical veins in his temple throbbing from the sheer shock of it all.The audience’s collective astonishment mirrored his own, but none felt it as acutely as Aron, whose carefully laid strategies now seemed almost laughably over-prepared in the face of this unanticipated twist.The largest part of Aron's shock wasn’t just the surrender itself bu
The minutes passed quickly for the viewers, their eyes glued to Aron as he sat unmoving in the same meditative position for over fifteen minutes. Speculation ran rampant on both sides, fueled by curiosity and tension.For those in the Empire, the consensus was that Aron was in VR, likely meeting with family or key figures. Many debated who he might be speaking with, guessing that he was either calming worried loved ones or strategizing for the next fight.On the other hand, viewers from the Astral Conclave harbored a mix of anxiety and intrigue. They questioned whether Aron was recuperating in preparation for the upcoming battle, enhancing his focus and mental clarity, or if his recovery from the previous fight was incomplete and he was still in the process of healing.But their speculations ceased to matter as Aron opened his eyes with five minutes remaining in the waiting period. Calm and deliberate, he removed the glasses from his head, placing them back into their container. His n
The moment the fight was officially declared over, Nova acted without hesitation. She immediately dispatched the collector ship, equipped with a medipod, to retrieve the Trinarian fighter's body. Simultaneously, she ensured Aron could rearm himself with a fresh set of nanomachines. For the first time, this process was being done openly, marking a significant shift.Previously, nanomachines had been classified technology, their existence kept strictly under wraps. However, that secrecy had been unintentionally broken when Nova used them to cover Aron’s exposed body during a critical moment, prioritizing his dignity over confidentiality. As a result, while the technology remained shrouded in mystery, its existence was now officially acknowledged, albeit without disclosing any further details.Aron retrieved a small canister from the ship and opened it, revealing a liquid-like substance inside. Pouring it onto his hand, the substance behaved unnaturally, defying gravity as it began to sp
"Him alive is better than dead, right? I can use his live brain data to study how they use their spatial abilities—it might even help accelerate my plans if things go as intended," Aron said as he stood over the fainting Trinarian fighter.{True, having him alive presents opportunities. But dead men cause no problems, while the living carry infinite potential for chaos—especially one like him. If our spatial lockdown isn’t enough to fully contain his abilities, he could use them long enough to cause catastrophic damage, even if it means enduring the backlash,} Nova replied, her tone laced with caution. She wanted to ensure Aron was fully aware of the risks he was inviting by sparing the fighter's life.Usually, Nova would have been in favor of keeping him alive—it meant more data for her to process, analyze, and extrapolate from. But spatial ability users were in a league of their own when it came to danger. Even a dead one would yield enough data to at least satisfy her curiosity for
“Nova,” Aron called out in his mind the moment his eyes snapped open, rapidly collecting information and orienting himself, realizing he had finally left the enigmatic place the system had sent him.“Nova,” he called again, this time aloud, his voice carrying a commanding weight as it echoed faintly in the arena. Receiving no response to his first call, his sharp gaze shifted to his surroundings. It didn’t take long for him to notice his current state—nearly naked, save for the swarm of nanomachines that had begun assembling around him.{The system had ejected me, sir,} Nova’s voice finally came through, calm but slightly delayed as the nanomachines completed their task. They prioritized covering his lower body, forming a sleek pair of trousers, as there weren’t enough surviving nanomachines to reconstruct full armor. His chiseled upper body remained exposed, glistening under the lights of the Colosseum, much to the awe and unease of the spectators.Nova’s pragmatic choice left Aron l
Following Nova's orders and the AI referee's approval, the mana stone carriers swiftly began moving toward the Colosseum. As the first ship arrived and entered, it wasted no time, promptly unloading its entire cargo of mana stones before departing to make way for the next carrier to do the same. The process was conducted with remarkable efficiency, ensuring a steady flow of mana stones into the Colosseum without any unnecessary delays.The process continued as over fifty ships unloaded their cargo of mana stones, an act many from the Conclave viewed as both excessive and wasteful. With each successive ship, the pain of the Conclave's viewers grew, particularly when the fifth ship alone had already matched the quantity of mana stones used during the Colosseum's initial construction. Yet, they didn’t stop there; instead, they went on to unload ten times that amount, as if mana stones were an endless resource, leaving the Conclave citizens bewildered and horrified by such apparent extra