FCN News Archive, 2795.175
As reported by Karen Miles

"In an event of paramount importance, the planned ceremonies here in the newly constructed Hall of the Great Assembly on New Constantinople have gone forth without a hitch. As the leaders and dignitaries of their respective governments concluded their closing statements and sign the Treaty of New Constantinople, the Terran Confederation, the Eleventh Kilrathi Empire, the New Republic of Andorra, the Firekkan Commonwealth, the Free Republic of Landreich, the Varni/Mantu Combine, and every spacefaring government outside of Neutral Space became absolved into a new, single tangent government this June 24th at 1900 Hours: the United Galactic Federation.

"‘It is a new beginning for our war-torn peoples,’ spoke Senator Ghünter Bohrman, a former Strategos in the former New Republic of Andorra's Wehrmacht OKH. ‘A chance to put aside our petty historical differences and work toward a better tomorrow—together.’

"‘I admit to having my initial misgivings about the Galactic Federation,’ spoke Senator Richardson, a former senator in the Great Assembly of the former Terran Confederation. ‘Predominately, one in my precarious position has to weigh all options and think of the future. Peace in our native galaxy has always been a plateau we have strived for, one always just out of our reach. Our history proves this. When I signed the Treaty of New Constantinople, I believed in my heart the days ahead will allow us all to walk that plateau at long last.’

"When found for comment, the ever-illusive Commodore Christopher Blair, a living legend truly in his own right who some reports say is now thinking about going into politics, had only to say, ‘I just pray this Federation of ours doesn’t suffer the same pitfalls of the predecessor I spent my life fighting for. History has a nasty [word omitted] habit of repeating itself.’

"As an age of mankind—or ‘humanoidkind,’ to put it more politically correctly now—without Earth is upon us, this reporter can only hope for the best."

FCN News Archive, 2801.001
As reported by Yvette Nichelle

"The turn of the century has come, and the Galactic Federation has endured the coming of the twenty-ninth century.

"With the arrival of this new century, the Galactic Federation is heading into uncertain times. The gleam and glitter of the prospect and promise of an era with peace, once awe-inspiring to a people who had lost so much in the Steltek War, has lost its shine. Genuine problems have arisen, beginning with the spreading of civil unrest primarily throughout select circles in the territories of the Kilrathi and Terrans. For example, while the Kilrathi Imperium completely absolved itself into the Galactic Federation, a select group of their numbers still cling to the Imperium’s clan structure, pledging their allegiance to their respective clans alone and making clear their intention to see the Kilrathi Empire reborn. The same can be said of Terran groups, all of which speaking the same message: they want the Terran Confederation back.

"Meanwhile, after the breakaway and passive uprising of the aforementioned Kilrathi Clans, three of the former Great Clans—the Ki’ra, Caxki, and Sho’lar clans, it has been confirmed—made an S-Fold journey into the Andromeda Galaxy. With their leave, the Galactic Federation Senate ordained the construction of Federation-controlled extra-galactic countermeasures to be set up at monitored, linked points all across the Galactic Spinward Rim, the generated field of which thus preventing any faction or vessel from exiting the Milky Way without explicit approved clearance from GFHQ. The countermeasures are expected to be constructed and fully in place around the Spinward Rim by 2820. The Exploratory Services are void of the ramifications of this decision.

"In the Hall of the Great Assembly, the cries of revolution are falling on the deaf ears of politicians who seem to have more pressing matters to concern themselves with, more pressing matters than even the connotation of a Third Galactic Civil War."

CIAI Newsletter Archive, 2810.015
As reported by Francis F. DiPeso, Spokesman, Committee for Interaction with Alien Intelligences

"The Steltek Magistry... since their nearly unstoppable warships and drones cut and blazed their way into the space of the long-gone Terran Confederation in 2793, then blazed their way across the territories of nearly every government in the Milky Way Galaxy in 2795 (a war path that culminated with the destruction of Earth, the Terran homeworld, on 2795.077 (March 18th) by a vessel classified as a ‘Planetship’), few give our former ancient, amoebae-like enemies a second thought anymore.

"Yet the question remains, and it is a valid one: will they be back?

"One must remember that, even under the combined might of all the peoples in the now-Galactic Federation in the final offensive in the Gamma Onisis System of the Canés Venatici Galaxy, we were unable to pull a victory out of the battle. The Ceti Imperium did. Recruited in a mission by Vell Ricaud II, the CEO of what was once the Kindred Syndicate in the Tri-System of the Vidur Sector, now Ricaud Industries, the Ceti Imperium, a race we once classified as ‘Double-Helix,’ made their entrance from the Galactic Core of the Milky Way and made quick work of the Steltek fleet of Marauder-class capships, capships we otherwise couldn’t scratch. According to Mr. Ricaud, it was enough to simply inform the Ceti of the continued outward militancy of the Steltek Magistry to have them come and annihilate their warships. Evidently, the Steltek had been exiled to the Canés Venatici Galaxy from the Milky Way in a vicious conflict by the Ceti millennia ago, a conflict spurred during their purging of ‘Heathen’ races they deemed it necessary to ‘vindicate,’ which is what they were trying to do with us all fifteen years ago.

"As such, it would reason to say that the Ceti Imperium has taken care of the Steltek Magistry. We won’t get into a debate over who or what the mysterious Ceti Imperium themselves might be—we don’t know—but we can speculate on what fate the Steltek have suffered. Genocide, some have even gone as far as saying. As the Federation High Command will not endorse a mission to reconnoiter the situation in the Canés Venatici Galaxy, speculation is all we can do."

"Hiveworld"; The City of the Winds
The Canés Venatici Galaxy
The Omega Delta System, Foxtrot Tau Quadrant, Sector Alpha Tango Theta
NOV 1 2819/2819.305; 0703 Hours (GFST)

The Steltek Grand Magistry was diminished. Humbled. Gone.

It was one thing for an ignorant with youth sakkin or even some of the prouder citizens to know or fear this fact, but Prime Leader Stravakis Himself knew the validity of that cold truth. It dawned on Him at no particular point, not with the destruction of their grand Palisade capital, neither the loss of the Planetship or the annihilation of their Maraudership Grand Fleet, nor the systematic execution of all of their militant magistrates and overseers, nor the dissolution of their government, nor the enslavement of their entire populace by the Ceti Imperium. One day the elderly, four thousand year-old Steltek simply awakened from a restful sleep in the cell of His imprisonment, stood, and honestly could not find any absolution or peace of mind in His lifelong belief and clinging to the Purpose.

The leader and warlord of the disgraced Steltek Magistry paced about His cramped, dank cell, His dried, withered, membranous tendrils dragging behind Him. He gave the barred window at the wall a hollow gaze, knowing His Ceti hosts put that window there for Him to see with His own eyes for the rest of His life what had become of His once-proud Magistry. Looking wearily from the cold bars of the cell of His imprisonment out at the mountainside with His dull, clouded retinas, Stravakis saw His people as He did every day—chained, dragging precious ore and resources from their designated sites, all under the watchful, soulless eyes of the armed Ceti android sentries.

The Ceti... the Demons in the Mist; the Bane of the Magistry; the Obstacle of the Purpose...

Exerting Himself in such a way He hadn’t done for centuries, He concentrated on the image of one of His last surviving offspring, Archaeis. Stravakis reached out with His mind, burning the image clear into His psyche, reaching out further and further for the telepathic link only two Steltek of the same bloodline could share.

He felt it.

"Archaeis," He mentally spoke to His offspring. "Time is short, and is of the essence. The Magistry under my leadership is finished. I will be executed in the days ahead for what I will ask you and your underground resistance to do, but I know it is something I must." He felt the mental touch of His offspring’s response, understanding completely. "Good, Archaeis. You understand, and you are already prepared. Proceed then, Archaeis, and select those most loyal in your movement to stand by you as you do. I appoint you to the place of Magistrate. You go with my blessing. Do not let the Purpose be forgotten... and never let it be undermined."

The Prime Leader abruptly severed the mental link, then let Himself fall to the cold floor in exhaustion.

Asteroid Belt Z-91
The Milky Way Galaxy
The Vaku System, Kr’Hassik Quadrant, Hari Sector
NOV 3 2819/2819.307; 2055 Hours (GFST)

"All right, Bill, get your fat ass over here and give me a hand. And quit screwing around, okay?"

Veteran Spaceman Bill McKinner pushed off from the EVA module toward Petty Officer Victoria Brenner. "You sound like my fucking mother, you know that, Vicky?" he muttered over his spacesuit’s headset, catching the support structure of the mining appendage’s compressor shaft with a gloved hand after a few meters of freeflight.

"Would you just shut up with the bitching and give me a hand?" Brenner came back. "Believe it or not, we do actually have a job to do here."

Beyond the point of the mining appendage he found the Petty Officer, manually realigning the malfunctioning device’s laser cutter. It wasn’t much to look at, really looking no more advanced than any twenty-first century style NASA mining arm, save for the power behind its cutter.

"Just tell me what the problem is, Vicky," he spoke. He drew himself hand-over-hand along the shaft closer for a better look at what she was doing with the appendage’s exposed wiring.

"I’m almost done here. That rock..." She pointed out to it. "The rig’s long range sensors came up with some schizo readings on its surface. See if you can manually run a surface scan on it, would you? Here." She threw a scanner PAD toward him.

McKinner caught it, grunted, then pushed himself off to the small asteroid seven meters away. It wasn’t a big asteroid, no more than twenty meters in diameter. The traction of his magnetic boots and gloves securing him to its rough surface, he scaled his way around it to get at the softer region.

Out of sight from Brenner and the rig, his PAD found the right spot and he began his scan. "Hmmm..." he spoke. "Nothing unusual here."

"You are not looking in the right spot, McKinner," growled the voice of the Chief Petty Officer on the rig. Smug bastard. "By my readings you are two meters off."

McKinner winced. "But how can that be? I just—" On a feeling, he looked beneath his position to what had partially lodged itself within a crevice in the asteroid’s mass. He gasped at what he saw.

Deep Space Mining Rig Iapetus; Command Center
2105 Hours (GFST)

Chief Petty Officer Jak’ra nar Sutaghi excitedly looked over his MFD scopes, suddenly lit up with the readings the again-functioning mining rig’s arm was finding in the debris of the asteroid belt.

"Brenner, McKinner... what are you humans seeing out there?" Jak’ra asked, bringing his people up on the comm. "I am getting organic readings from the arm!"

"One moment, sir." There was a pause, then Petty Officer Brenner responded over the comm with, "It looks... My God, it looks like... a man."

"By Sivar... A man?" Jak’ra burst. No way he was alive, with as long as he must have been out here... but a human male, preserved in the vacuum of space? It was scientifically possible, but for the most part unheard of. And as far into space as the Iapetus was...

"Well, maybe it’s a woman—I can’t really tell, y’know?" McKinner said. "It’s a stiff. A dried up, crusty, space-frozen stiff. One with what looks like a... a cigar in its mouth. Heh. I’ll be damned."

"I am looking at a hell of a lot of paperwork with the ISS here, you two. You better look for a nametag or something," Jak’ra advised.

"Hey, his helmet... there’s an old-ass Terran Confederation Space Force logo on it. It says..."

"What?" Jak’ra pressed, impatient with the Spaceman. "What does it say?"

"Captain St. John." McKinner paused, then read the word in quotes that must have been beneath the name and rank, "‘Hunter.’"

"Hiveworld"; The City of the Winds
The Canés Venatici Galaxy
The Omega Delta System, Foxtrot Tau Quadrant, Sector Alpha Tango Theta
NOV 4 2819/2819.308; 1845 Hours (GFST)

Prime Leader Stravakis could hear the hard footsteps of the Ceti androids coming toward His cell at a quickening pace. The Ceti Imperium knew well the Steltek Magistry’s ways since their Great Purge and Golden Age... that the daring, yet ultimately futile militant acts carried out over the last two days by the Steltek slaves could only have been ordered by the Prime Leader Himself. They were coming to execute Him.

Stravakis wasn’t worried. He had lived His life of glories and failures, and would now make amends. With this last act He had guaranteed the Magistry at least a chance to regain its standing, or at least a fraction of its dignity and honor. The Ceti couldn’t take away His people’s will to fight back.

Looking out through His window, past the daily chores being carried out by His enslaved peoples, nearly on the horizon, in the great ocean that stretched from side to side, deliverance arrived at long last. Captained by Magistrate Archaeis, the mighty Throneship, Prime Leader Stravakis’ own seldom-used flagship, arose from where it had been hidden deep within the ocean’s depths, water and countless tendrils of seaweed falling off of the massive vessel’s ninety-two kilometer length—nearly the size of a Planetship—as it cast its unholy shadow over the planet. The Throneship’s transelectromagnetic shields gave a near-blinding flicker as they energized to peak efficiency before the vessel shot into the sky, a beacon of hope for a beaten people with little.

A rare gleam came to Stravakis’ cloudy retinas for the first time in decades. For all of the cunning, filthy Heathens in the galaxy across the universe, righteous vindication awaited.