The Red Forest. Planted dejectedly in the field of carpeted metal.
Atop that floating island of refined steel and UberCarbon.
Above the ravaged homes of others alike him in sympathy and allegiance.
That sad man.
What atrocities had he committed this day.
What atrocities had the Last Stand committed...
What he knew was insidious, and was something the Last Stand could never afford to take lightly.
Zorzackien sympathisers.
People whom seems to see some vicious truth to the Zorzackien doctrines.
To the Zorzackien's impetuous and hostile approach on the Last Stand.
Taraven had fallen to such an illness.
An illness, that like cancer, could not be allowed to spread.
Purging was rare. Yet it had to be done.
According to his Superior Admiral, Revanna. The planet Taraven had been infiltrated, and vast sections of the populace had begun to turn to the dark ways of the ZorZackiens.
Such an event would threaten the neighboring star systems and damage the hold the Last Stand managed of this Region.
Purging was... necessary.
Such prices had to be paid in times of vast and insidious evils, that spread themselves across the galaxy like a plague on the innocent, and sane.
Protectorate Agents had supplied excessive evidence of these events, of which were attached to his orders. A long list of crimes against humanity, and vulgar beliefs that were spreading throughout the cities.
The order was final. The short and concise it outline his task.
Annihilate the civilian centers, and lay waste to any opposition.
A sacrifice for the greater good of The Stand.
But something seemed so very off.
The Last Stand he knew, would have him asses the threat further upon arrival.
Not simply jump to something as harsh a verdict, as purging.
There could have been so much less bloodshed.
But now, the local Protectorate branch seemed to have no knowledge of the purge.
None.
Even though their very agents had uncovered this such threat.
Protectorate forces are usually exempt from purge under most if-not-all circumstances...
Unless they were part of it.
Unless they...
A long sigh.
It was nearly impossible... faking a Regional Order required a level of commitment and intellect far beyond the works of the Zorzackiens. Simply the encoding and Authoritative-Access required alone would deny 98% of the universe's inhabitants. only a Regional High-Admiral and above could achieve such a...
Or...
A Regional Overseer.
Civilian politics...
It was pitiful what people found to concern themselves with.
Overseers were never meant to exist.
The original system of Galactic management was simple.
The universe was too vast and complicated to be made up of shakily constructed territories and shifting control.
At the insertion of the Last Stand Navy, a key system was developed.
The Area Of Order.
A system of clean ownership.
Hundreds, if not thousands of solar systems would be counted as part of a 'zone'.
Nine of these zones, would be considered a sector,
Nine of these sectors would form a Region,
And Nine regions would compose a Locell.
Locells, like their lesser parts, are placed on a straight nine by nine grid that encompass the galaxy. Though, everything within a Locell is a three by three.
Zones were watched by Admirals.
Sectors by their Superior Admiral brethren.
And those Regions commanded by High Admirals.
Of which all reported to the head of that Locell.
The Ultima Admiral.
It was child-like simple.
The system was managed by our grand universal military for our grand empire.
We functioned as a framework upon which universal management could be cleanly achieved.
Nothing unnecessary ever had to be fed back to the Supreme Command Center of the Last Stand navy that the locell Ultima Admirals did not deem worthy.
Whom themselves would have no clue if their subordinated did not deem it necessary to inform them.
Though, of course each Admiralty layer had the authority to take away, and give back authority to their sup admirals if their performance was badly lacking.
It was a perfect system. With ever layer kept in perfect harmonious check.
The worlds and systems governed themselves, and were able to call on aid from other systems, and had a system of universal defense that could guarantee security under any circumstance. They were free from all control, except a small and concise list of rules required by the Last Stand Navy.
Breeding regulations, cultural requirements.
It was fine.
Yet... The civilian populations soon started a driven uproar against the system of which they had no say in. As they had no control over the actions of these administrators, and rightfully raised this concern to that very same authority.
This was thoroughly unnecessary however, as all it took was a single simple man to climb the ranks of the Last Stand in that area for them to have achieved such a goal. To have a local on the inside, in a place of power.
Though, they wanted a more democratic option.
Regardless of their freedom of local election, they now wanted to have say in the universal framework.
Many of the Last Stand Navy protested such a move.
Some say it was the cause of many a rebellion, perhaps.
But, as the Supreme Commander of the entire Stand gained wind of this movement, he declared that he would entertain such an idea, and so he did.
As his rule is law, the debate was settled, decided and enforced.
The role of Overseer was created.
A civilian post, with minimal control over military affairs, but a grand access to the on goings of the area. To military reports, and orders. Their knowledge of current affairs and actions was vast and deep, and up entirely to their discretion whether or not they shared such information to the public.
They had authority to request information regarding any of the events within their jurisdiction no matter who issued them.
Call it, a power balance.
To ensure security, most Overseers were issued with a Protectorate force local to them that was placed under their limited Authority. Enough to hold off any would-be Last Stand warlords, but not enough to become such themselves.
The power of authority did drive some mad...
This system was spread to every level of the AoO.
Culminating in the Ultima Overseer, and his lesser brother, the High Overseer...
Our very own Margon Salaies...
Out of the 81 potential Locellular sections of the galaxy, only 52 were currently held by the Last Stand. The rest either uninhabitable, or under hostile control.
He had to be stationed to this one...
And with over 52 Locells throughout the galaxy. That's 468 Overseers with Omicron-Class access... A hell of a feat to handle such raw information.
But, added to that. Supreme-Overseers have training in Prime-Class encoding. Meaning, that if they wanted to try and fake Regional Order encryption codes...
It would be do able.
This damn existence is getting to me...
Raising his solid arm up, he motioned to the Orion-Class Pilot saying in a tired manner,
"Allright. Gemini Fleet 78-50-50-6. Let's move out. I'm sick of this day already..."
YOU ARE READING
World In Turmoil
Science FictionAmongst the empires of the galaxy. Between the factions and the territories. On a rustic world left to itself. A young man had heros once... They were a force sworn to protect. They were a navy of saviours. In a time of need. ...
