A century has passed since the initial contact with the Zerg Collective, and 113 years since the conclusion of the Second Unification War—a conflict that once again fractured the hierarchy into multiple factions. The aftermath of the war proved arduous, marked by significant delays. The Hierarchy grappled with internal challenges: mountains of paperwork, civilian grievances, widespread riots, and the staggering costs of infrastructure repairs.
During this tumultuous period, the Zerg maintained a mostly reclusive stance. Their assistance amounted to token relief supplies and modest goodwill gestures. While not substantial, these actions were acknowledged by the newly unified Hierarchy, which expressed its gratitude.
After the war, the Faithful suffered a sharp decline in privileges. Their once prosperous status was reduced to a closely monitored movement confined to an insignificant world—a cruel mockery of their former prominence. While the Hierarchy cannot be entirely blamed, any power facing a religious faction's uprising would naturally limit that group's influence within the government—Haetism was no exception.
However, the Faithful were not alone in losing prestige and authority. The Generals, once primarch advisors, now served as mere foot soldier commanders. Their roles were stripped and revised, and they were denied access to primarch documents. Gone were the days when they could edit government records; now, they were left on the outside looking in.
Meanwhile, the Xenophiles, technically victorious, returned to a leadership role within the Hierarchy. However, this time, they were not the sole leaders. According to the treaty with the TOC and the COTF, they were obligated to address the grievances of both the Faithful and the Generals.
...
The hierarchy has witnessed remarkable transformations. Once-devastated worlds, their infrastructure in ruins and orbital defenses shattered, now thrive within the post-war hierarchy. Tourists, scavengers, and other curious individuals flock to these renowned planets, with Hablim—the first world to fall during the conflict—holding a special place in their hearts. Its prestige and history are both celebrated and mourned.
Following the end of the war, emerging businesses have capitalized on significant opportunities, securing contracts and lucrative deals. Money now flows into once-devastated worlds, and within a mere two decades, planets like Hablim and the Nexus have nearly regained their pre-war prosperity and continue to ascend.
However, integrating pre-war elements presents challenges for every interstellar nation, including the reinstated Council of Primarchs. Initially disbanded during the onset of the Second Unification War, the primarchs believed that their data-pads could efficiently handle information transfer without the need for a council. Unfortunately, public opinion sharply diverged from this perspective. Critics argued that the council's disbandment had led to increased corruption among those in power and had overlooked critical issues such as technological modernization and underfunded schooling programs.
Despite public frustration, the hierarchy faced a dilemma. While acknowledging the valid concerns raised by citizens, they also recognized the benefits of the council's previous tenure. During that time, housing prices were reduced, military spending increased, economic relief measures were implemented, and transparency about the hierarchy's challenges was maintained. These positive outcomes remain essential for the hierarchy's current needs.
Despite complaints and delays, the hierarchy remained active over the past century. They continued to expand, colonizing new worlds that brought much-needed supplies. New relays were opened, allowing them to reach farther than ever before. Crews scanned, cataloged, and named these distant planets. Plans for defenses were put in place shortly after stabilizing the colonies, with CVA stations replacing trading outposts near the relays—formerly mobile orbital defense platforms now relegated to a new role.
The hierarchy also streamlined colony infrastructure, making it easier to establish new settlements. Psionic technology saw significant improvements, thanks in part to collaboration with the zerg. This advancement allowed the turians to defend against mental incursions, and their independent research led to increased knowledge of stealth tech—achievements accomplished without zerg assistance.
The development of stealth technology ushered in a revolution in reconnaissance. The newly created psionic stealth tech provides the hierarchy with novel methods for technological gathering. Additionally, it enables the study of the interaction between psionics and element zero—an area of great interest since the first contact with the zerg.
Despite the hierarchy's familiarity with element zero, the functions of the relays remain elusive. These ancient structures, attributed to the Protheans, operate on principles closely tied to element zero, yet their inner workings remain a mystery.
While one might expect the hierarchy to unravel some of the relays' secrets, the truth is more complex. The relays' technology appears far advanced, surpassing the hierarchy's current capabilities. Their intricate design and functionality defy easy comprehension.
However, practicality often trumps curiosity. The relays grant the Hierarchy unparalleled faster-than-light travel capabilities—an asset too valuable to ignore. Their mere existence revolutionized interstellar travel, and the benefits outweigh the need for exhaustive research.
Furthermore, the relays' orbital-locked positions and formidable defenses pose significant obstacles to in-depth study. Despite occasional inquiries, the hierarchy focuses on utilizing this incredible technology rather than fully understanding it.
As the hierarchy seeks to reduce its reliance on relay technology, one potential avenue lies in adopting alternatives like the warp travel concept recently introduced by the zerg. These warp drives, replacing the old hybrid psionic engines, allow zerg vessels to cover long distances without the need for electrical discharge—a stark contrast to the Eezo drives employed by the hierarchy. The latter drives require careful management to mitigate the risk of Eezo poisoning among the crew.
Curious about this new technology, the hierarchy formally requested a sample from the zerg. However, their expectations were low; it was more of a diplomatic formality than a genuine hope for cooperation. To their surprise, the zerg responded promptly and politely, declining the offer. Their refusal was tactful, avoiding any offense to the hierarchy.
As expected, the zerg's refusal prompted the hierarchy to explore alternative FTL travel methods beyond the relays and Eezo drives. However, this ambitious endeavor faces significant challenges. The process of developing a theoretical blueprint, designing, and creating a manufacturing plan is estimated to take a decade. Factor in the substantial costs of research and development, and the timeline extends by another 30 to 35 years for the completion of the new drive core.
The hierarchy's lack of experience in constructing their own FTL drive cores compounds the complexity. Their sole reference point comes from a blueprint discovered in an archive on one of their moons—a relic left behind by the ancient Protheans. Armed with bits and pieces of information gleaned from the zerg's warp drive, the hierarchy embarks on this ambitious project. While their knowledge may be limited, the development process is scheduled to commence next year.
...
...
Pamala, an advocate for improved relations with the zerg, recognizes their reclusive nature—a stance reinforced by their absence from the war. Despite this, the zerg have consistently responded dismissively to the hierarchy's requests for assistance. When the xenophiles sought military support, the zerg declined, opting instead for technological advisors and trade deals. These exchanges contributed to the xenophiles' technological superiority during the war and their continued influence today.
The alliance draft proposal, introduced before the war, languished due to various factors: the conflict itself, internal tensions within the hierarchy's political parties, and the zerg's apparent lack of interest. Remarkably, Pamala still supports this controversial proposal even after nearly a century and a half. The question remains: Was the alliance proposal a catalyst for the Second Unification War, or did other factors—such as primarchs' control over faith and their discontent with the generals—play a more significant role?
Pamala's contemplations revolved around her pursuit of a dream: to break down the zerg's reclusive barriers. The question weighed heavily on her mind—it stood as both a challenge to her ongoing efforts and a potential catalyst for success. The topic was akin to a smoldering ember; with the slightest spark, it could ignite into an inferno. Historical researchers, political analysts, and even some of Pamala's friends engaged in in-depth discussions about this very issue.
Pamala harbored a strong desire to become a diplomat, a role that would bring her closer to the zerg collective. Curiously, her family disapproved of this aspiration. Perhaps it was because she lacked enthusiasm for their military-oriented professions. Pamala viewed the military as a source of pain and death, a perspective supported by history—the first and second unification wars, separated by a mere 60 years, witnessed escalating casualties due to military actions and destructive weaponry. Her preference clearly leaned toward diplomacy and peaceful solutions, something that higher authorities rarely agreed with.
...
On a secluded world, a place that could technically be labeled a backwater, an important meeting took place. Attendees gathered to deepen relations among various factions on the planet and to exchange the latest gossips.
Among them was an individual named Rex, his attire adorned with insignias of religious significance and the faith's sigil carefully stitched onto his long silk-like sleeves. He moved gracefully toward the bar closest to the north entrance.
The bar buzzed with willing participants engaged in the bartender's games, happily Drinking the available liquor. Fools, Rex thought. They clearly didn't grasp the purpose of this meeting. Drinking before such an event was foolish. Why was there even a bar here? Well, he knew the answer: it was a place to loosen others' lips, extracting secrets that could be used to their advantage. He couldn't fault them; he was doing the same thing.
Seated comfortably at the bar, Rex ordered a bottle of fresh carbonated water and discreetly eavesdropped on his neighbors.
"Did you hear? Tripit has returned, along with his traitorous brother," the person to Rex's left announced, placing an empty bottle on the tabletop.
Rex was well aware of the Tripit brothers' infamy. Not long ago, they had allegedly betrayed the archon of the faith, leaking critical secrets to the Hierarchy garrison on this very world. The nature of those secrets remained a mystery to Rex, but their impact must have been significant. The archon's furious roar echoed across light years when news reached him. In response, he dispatched loyal guards to apprehend the Tripit brothers, but somehow, they had slipped into witness protection. It appeared they had abandoned the safety of the hierarchy's protection.
"The archon must want them dead, huh? It would be no surprise after what they did," the person on the right spoke, shoulders sagging in a sigh-like motion.
"Obviously! How could the archon forgive them? They practically ruined the chance for the faith to finally remove the restrictions on our religious freedoms," the person on the left chimed in, their voice tinged with emotion. "Hey, Jac, do you think the archon's plan could have actually worked?" the right-leaning individual asked.
Jac, the person on the left, replied, "I don't know all the details, but based on what I've learned from others, it could have worked, yes." Before Jac could continue, their conversation was interrupted.
"Hmm, do you mind telling me about this plan?" Rex interjected with a question. Jac and the other person looked at him in surprise; they obviously hadn't noticed him eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Uhm, who are you?" Jac asked, clearly confused. "Oh, apologies. My name is Rex, Rex Coil. And you?" Rex replied, gesturing to Jac and his friend.
"Jac, and this is Dili," Jac introduced himself and his friend. "I don't know much, but if you really want to know, I could try to explain." Jac's confusion lingered. "But shouldn't you already have this information?" he continued.
"Ah, yes, I should. But the past few years have taken me on a journey through the greater hierarchy," Rex explained. Jac and Dili's expressions soured at the mention of the hierarchy, their fangs flaring in visible disgust. "Yes, I know it's considered distasteful, but it was necessary—personal business, you see." The two nodded, acknowledging that sometimes personal matters superseded convention, even if it risked shunning within the enclave.
Speaking of the enclave—the last refuge for the faithful. It stood as the final bastion where the faith wasn't met with disdain and discrimination. Those who refused to bow to the xenophiles during the war sought solace there, seeking a haven away from judgment and compromise.
The enclave was initially meant to welcome all the faithful, but that turned out to be a falsehood. Instead, they selectively accepted those who remained fanatically devoted or viewed the faith positively.
Rex harbored disdain for the enclave—not for its purpose, but for its post-war actions. Rather than embracing all refugees, they could have molded them into loyal adherents over time. It's wiser to deal with minor challenges from those with little initial loyalty than to face active opposition from disenchanted individuals.
...
The conversation ended there, and Jac and Dillie swiftly explained the archon's plan. To Rex, it seemed implausible given the archon's current resources—an example of arrogance, perhaps.
Rex strolled through the building's halls, rooms, and corridors. The walls bore paintings of Haetism's sigils, inspiring quotes, and other religious motifs. As much as he'd have loved to linger and admire them, he had a pressing engagement. The freshly painted doors to the meeting room gleamed with a metallic sheen, applied not long ago in Rex's eyes.
The machinery hummed as Rex entered. Inside, significant figures awaited, including the archon himself. Seated at the center of the circular table, the Haetism sigil adorned its surface.
"Welcome back, Rex. I trust your travels were fruitful?" one of the attending nobles greeted him. Rex recognized them, but he ignored Thel, moving toward an available seat.
"Shall we begin?" Rex inquired, locking eyes with each occupant. "Of course, Rex," the archon replied, his deep voice barely masking irritation.
"The hierarchy appears restless," Talia interjected, her voice graceful and passionate. Rex knew her well—her accomplishments in manufacturing and her involvement in the criminal underworld across the greater hierarchy were legendary. Rumor had it she had informants in nearly every business field requiring construction permits, always striving to outmaneuver her rivals.
"How so?" Orion, genuinely curious, asked. Rex privately disliked Orion, considering him nothing more than an opportunistic rat seeking knowledge at any cost. "The relations with the zerg have remained consistent for a century. So, when news surfaces about a politician aiming to deepen those relations, it's bound to cause a stir." Talia gesticulated as she spoke. "It's no surprise that mainstream political parties are practically shouting from the rooftops about this,'" she continued.
"Really?" Orion asked, intrigued. "I would have thought it would be of no concern; wouldn't it be a benefit?"
"It would have been," Talia drawled, "if the person who proposed deeper relations hadn't brought up the Alliance draft proposal—the one that was drafted before the war but never agreed upon. Anyway, enough about the hierarchy's troubles. What about you, Orion? Any new weapons designs?"
Ah, yes, Rex had completely forgotten. Orion used to work in weapons design and production before being kicked out of the facility for misconduct. Despite his personal feelings toward the man, Rex had to admit that Orion's weapon designs were top-tier.
"Not yet," Orion explained, a slight smile gracing his mandibles. "The mechanics for my newly designed firing systems aren't working as expected, significantly delaying my work on weapons designs. But don't worry; shipments will proceed as usual."
"I wasn't worried, Orion," Talia giggled. "Just curious."