Short Story: The Ambassador

A delegation from the Ataran Federal Union (AFU) has traveled to the planet Umaü in the Detål system to conduct negotiations in an attempt to convince the Uma government to join the AFU. The delegation is led by Meska, a prominent AFU ambassador from the planet Treminus.

Date: 3rd day of the 7th month, year 235 of the Foundation Age.

Meska stepped through the bulkhead, concentrating on retaining a collected face. The starlight entering the terminal windows was irritatingly bright as expected and rather unfiltered for such a sun, in Meska’s opinion. Detål was a bright F-type star, close enough to make most of Umaü a hothouse; only the northern and southernmost regions of the planet were regularly cool enough to comfortably walk around unprotected. Meska had been prepared for this experience in simulators, but as always, they simply could not effectively mimic the real experience. The absence of a second contrasting shadow across the terrain was particularly jarring; Meska preferred the double shadows of daytime cast by the twin suns of Treminus.

A man waiting in the terminal stepped forward as the delegation approached. His facial structure, clothing, and embellishments were completely unlike anything from the cultures of Treminus. He wore headgear over both ears. When the man spoke, it was quite soft and in the local language Veechnʻt. Meska knew very little Veechnʻt, but at least recognized the syllabic patterns. That was all irrelevant, as the man spoke softly because his headgear translated his words to Meska’s language, coming out of the speakers in the man’s own voice.

“Pleasant welcomes to our world of Umaü, esteemed Ambassador Meska-Natal and representatives from the Ataran Federal Union. My name is Poüʻt, and it will be my pleasure to escort this delegation on its journey to the palace homestead.”

“Hello Poüʻt, thank you! Please lead the way.” Meska replied in a kindly voice. They were all quite anxious to finally reach their destination. The man’s headset was translating Meska’s own words back into Veechnʻt, as there was a slight delay in his physical response but Meska could hear no audible translating occurring.

Poüʻt flourished his hands again, then gestured for the group to walk, leading them through several corridors before arriving in a vactrain terminal, where a train was waiting which they boarded. Meska made sure to be seated next to their escort, then waited to be sure there was nothing else to be said or done before speaking to him.

“Poüʻt,” Meska said, turning to him, “if I may ask, what is your full Veechnʻt name?”

The man smiled. “I would be obliged, Ambassador. My Veechnʻt name is... Poüʻtičnevnʻon-Poüʻt.” Just before speaking his name, the man paused to let the translator finish his words, then spoke the name out loud himself. Veechnʻt people have only one single proper name, with a shorthand version hyphenated and addended to the end. The shorthand was often just the first few syllables of their proper name, but could also be from anywhere within it or even include parts their full name did not.

“Thank you Poüʻt. I’m quite eager to explore the culture here and learn all I can about your people,” Meska replied. On the journey to Umaü Meska had been anxious to learn more about Uma culture firsthand, debating on when it might be professional to dive into personal questions. Their escort was, perhaps unfortunately for him, just too easy a target.

“If you don’t mind again, I had a few more questions…”

After a rather quick 15-minute ride, the vactrain arrived at an underground station where they departed and walked through a few more corridors before coming to a large elevator.

“This way please,” Poüʻt said, gesturing inside.

The delegation filed in with Poüʻt entering last, after which he entered some inputs on the wall terminal. The doors shut and the elevator began to rise. One wall was entirely glass, showing the elevator shaft rushing from top to bottom, until suddenly the interior vanished to reveal the magnificent landscape of Umaü to gasps from the delegation. The terrain consisted of steep mountains of rock rising into pointing peaks. Dotted across them were the architectural spires of the inhabitants, the Uma people. Meska knew the Uma had developed their architecture upon the influence of the mountains themselves, mimicking their feeling and style and developing the structure into an identity.

The rising elevator slowed to a stop, its doors opening into a large, rounded room. Poüʻt left the elevator; Meska took one last look at the landscape still visible from the elevator before exiting, though with little need. The room they had entered was flat on the side they had come from with a wall of glass forming one giant window. Throughout the room were seating areas, doorways, and people going about their work.

Poüʻt stopped and turned to address the delegation. “We have now arrived at the diplomatic common area. Your housing, the banquet hall, and the Prefecture Hall are all readily accessible from this room. You are free to use this space, and we have prepared private meeting rooms if you so require. Should you desire to leave this area, you may do so, but we strongly request that you use a terminal to request a guide to accompany you. Now if you please continue to follow me, I will show you where to find various services before taking you to your rooms...” 

Hours later, Meska flopped into bed with a relaxed sigh. It had been a taxing day; arriving at the staging station in orbit, boarding the landing craft, atmospheric entry (which Meska had never experienced before and which had been smoother than expected though still quite jarring), then the diplomatic sector tour which had taken far longer than expected. There were many accommodations available for the delegation which they had been thoroughly introduced to, and that was before running into several Uma Prefects who were more than content to strike up lengthy conversations on the topics Meska and the delegation were here to discuss in the first place, as if the time to begin negotiations was simply then because of an encounter in the corridor.

Meska stared at the ceiling for a few moments, eyes beginning to wander shut. A nap was tempting, but there were tasks to accomplish. Meska rose from bed and walked over to the window, which stretched wide and curved with the room, offering as spectacular a view as any from this height. The sky was just beginning to darken with the lone setting sun, its bright light still making its presence well known even though it was out of sight beyond the terrain. Meska looked up, finding it difficult to believe they had all been up there in space just a few hours previously.

The delegation’s belongings had been taken to all of their rooms separately; Meska spent the next while unpacking and exploring the room until the door chimed. As there did not appear to be any screen to show who was on the other side, Meska simply opened it. Expecting to find a fellow delegate, Meska was surprised to instead find an Uma woman.

“Hello,” she said with an enthusiastic bob of her head. She did not speak with a translator, only a thick accent. “I am NonŌmala-Ōmala, Underprefect to Maëlcēnev-Ćēn. I wondered if I may sit and talk with you, anywhere we are both comfortable?”

Meska’s eyebrows had raised for a moment, bemused by the abrupt friendliness. “Uh, perhaps. May I ask what this is about?”

“I am Ōmala,” she replied, repeating her name. Meska noticed she seemed slightly anxious. “I was speaking to Poüʻt, he noted you expressed interest in our culture. I too have interests in other people and their cultures, I was hoping the two of us could sit down for a discussion, if you have the time?”

Meska was delighted at the prospect but remained apprehensive. “Well it’s lovely to meet you Ōmala. You said you were Underprefect to Ćēn? I’m afraid I certainly cannot discuss official matters with you prior to the negotiations, but I would be happy to discuss me and my people now if that’s what you wish.”

“That is perfect for me,” Ōmala replied. “Where would you like to talk?”

“Uh,” Meska turned to look at the room, giving it a glance over. “Well I was just getting settled in here, I suppose you’re welcome to join me.”

“Thank you, I am pleased to do so!” Ōmala responded.

Meska couldn’t help a bemused smile as Ōmala walked past. “I see you don’t have a translator,” Meska said. “Do you speak my language, or do you have some type of internal interface?”

“I learned your language several months ago when it was suspected you would be coming to us. It is spoken in many places, so it seemed a prudent language to learn. I am still working on the details of it, but I am fully fluent.”

“How long did it take to learn?” Meska asked.

“It took several weeks, I learned with an advanced learning course.” She hesitated for a moment, then continued with a nervous laugh. “I actually never completely finished, I am almost done... But never found the time to finalize the curriculum.”

“That’s impressive,” Meska responded, trying to sound enthusiastically friendly. “Do you know other languages? How many do you know?”

Ōmala let a proud smile briefly cross her face. “I am fully fluent in seventeen different languages. They are a special interest of mine, as is diplomacy.”

“Well it’s obvious to me you have the spirit and passion for it,” Meska smiled, glancing out the window. “My rest, it’s already dark outside. I feel it was still light out just a few minutes ago.” Meska glanced around the room in confusion for a moment. “The lights in here auto-adjust. Or were they just on the whole time? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Did you receive time adjustment conditioning on your journey here?” Ōmala asked.

“Oh I did,” Meska replied, “but I don’t think it prepared my mind for how the transition really goes.” Meska pondered a bit more. “My home planet Treminus completes a full rotation in 58 hours. And not only that, it has two suns, which means it takes far longer to go from day to night. Each sun has its own setting time, its own influence on atmospheric lighting. The sunset lasts for hours. And that’s all when it isn’t cloudy and raining, which it usually is, making it even harder to tell the time from just the lighting.”

“Umaü’s day is around 770 minutes long, I think that is close to 13 hours,” Ōmala said. “Because Umaü does not have a tilt, in our region those 770 minutes are split half between day and between night. Even then, the sunset lasts for some time because of our longitude. A ways north of here, the sun has never set since the planet’s formation!”

Meska chuckled while glancing around the room. “Where is the control for the lights? The stars outside are starting to look incredible.”

“That will be at one of the terminals,” Ōmala said, gesturing to one behind Meska. “But if you want to see the stars, we should head up to the overview. It is a much better sight from there.”

Meska gestured toward the door. “Sounds wonderful. Lead the way!”

Ōmala jumped up and they headed out of the room, taking a quick walk through a few corridors and passages, then into an elevator.

“A note for you,” Ōmala said to Meska on the way, “you are recommended to have a guide if you leave the diplomatic center, which we are doing now. I am fully trained and capable to act as a diplomatic guide, and would be happy to take you elsewhere when my time permits.”

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind,” Meska replied with a smile.

The elevator carried them up to a small room that opened to a wide balcony area. Behind and above them was only the rock of the natural spire; they seemed to be at the top of the artificial structure. There were a few other people out on the balcony; as Meska and Ōmala stepped out, one or two of them spared a passing glance over as the doorway flooded the ground with a ray of light before shutting.

Meska looked up and gasped. Even with eyes still adjusted for interior light, above them was the most spectacular display of stars that Meska had ever witnessed. Meska looked over at Ōmala, who looked back and gave a quick smile before returning her gaze to the stars. The two walked over to the edge of the balcony without a word. After a few moments, Meska was the one to break the silence, feeling compelled to speak softly.

“It’s stunning. The whole sky, it’s absolutely stunning. I’ve just…” Meska shrugged, giving each word weight as if they were profoundly important. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It feels like… Like a window into a primordial version of our entire civilization. Not the Union, not the Uma, I mean all of humanity.”

Meska stared a few more seconds up at the stars, then gave an anxious glance over at Ōmala who smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but Meska cut her off with a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m being a bit overly poetic. Really though, the stars are stunning. They don’t look like this where I’m from, I’ve never seen anything like it”

“What do they look like where you are from? Did you not travel across space to come here?” Ōmala asked.

“Well yes, I did travel across space. But when I left Treminus I went up to orbit during the day, onto a torchship that took me to um… I forget the name, but it was a station at lagrange one. The spacecraft all had windows, but the starlight of our twin suns completely drowns out anything else, and the windows are heavily tinted and shielded anyway so you don’t accidentally blind yourself. And the warp ship didn’t have windows at all...” Meska trailed off again. “Seems depressing now that I think on it. I traveled across the stars and never saw them.”

Ōmala gave a shrug of her own as she looked back toward the sky. “That is alright. It is a joy of traveling space, the new experiences and sights and places. I have spent lots of time in orbit of different worlds, with plenty of time in their shadows. The stars are even better up there.” She looked back at Meska. “What about back on Treminus at night, you didn’t see stars there?”

“That answer is maybe more depressing, but no. I grew up in Dilapha, an enormous city on the planet. The light pollution drowns out most stars, but that’s barely the problem. Treminus’ orbital space is a field of stations. The entire night sky is a matrix of bright points of light trekking across the sky in all sorts of directions and paths, twinkling in and out of brightness as they catch the starlight of our suns; most of them shine far brighter than any of these stars.”

“Primordial,” Ōmala repeated. “I had to think back for a moment what that word means. It is a perfect description I think.” She paused for a few moments. “The stars are innumerable, but I have always appreciated how each one still feels somehow unique in its own special way. Every star twinkles in just a slightly different pattern, each star just slightly brighter or dimmer than all the rest.”

Meska nodded as best as possible with a neck craned upward. “I couldn’t’ve expressed it better myself. And they’re all spread out in perfect chaos. They’re not worried about orderly timetables or transfer orbits.”

The two stood in silence for a few more moments, but Meska had only begun to take everything in.

“Do you see this glow here?” Ōmala asked, gesturing to a faint haze dominating a large part of the sky.

“Yes, what is it?”

“That is the rest of our galaxy,” answered Ōmala. “All the other stars we share a galaxy with, lightyears apart spread thin like specks of dust in an open air breeze. Yet so numerous and so distant, they coalesce into a solid haze of light.”

Meska’s head now shook slowly in disbelief. “It’s unfathomable. I simply can’t wrap my thoughts around it.”

Ōmala gave a faint smile, continuing her own gaze as if Meska’s transfixation was infectious. “I believe nobody ever has.”

One standard week later

Date: 10th of 7, year 235 of the Foundation Age

Speaking to the Prefects of Umaü, Meska’s voice had become more tense, forced professionalism giving way to human emotion. “I recognize it is blunt, but if you insist on dancing with words then I must refine the edges of this conversation!”

It was a curt response to some dissident voices who were reacting to a comment Meska had made that admittedly could easily be interpreted as offensive. Nevertheless, the session had been going on for several hours now; Meska had tried to be courteous, but some members of the Prefecture were either slightly delusional or willfully ignorant. They had been speaking through auto-translators the whole time, which only contributed to the exhaustion of negotiations.

Meska continued. “The fact of the matter is, Prefecture, the trend of your economic situation simply does not predict a prosperous future for your society. Your planet has remained at the edge of civilization due to a variety of factors - its unfortunate lack of accessible and useful resources, its lack of warp-stable lagrangian waypoints, and the fact that four-fifths of the surface is uninhabitable.”

Meska took a breath. There were still some grumbles, but the Prefecture for the most part seemed receptive. Maybe they were tired of having to keep their mask on just as much as Meska was tired of attempting to pry it off.

“Eventually,” Meska continued, “your planet will be swallowed up by the unyielding march of civilization. You’ve already reported illegal landings of prospectors who have no regard for your laws or restrictions. As has been made clear, your neighbors Denaria and the Kiosho Combine from the outer system have both encroached beyond the boundaries you agreed upon decades ago, and you do not possess any force or leeway to hold them accountable. Two of your shared power relay stations have dropped below 50% efficiency in the last month alone - you requested Denaria procure the hardware necessary for you to make the repairs, as required by your treaty with them. Instead, all they have provided are excuses and deflections. Meanwhile, Denaria has established their own private station at your very own fourth lagrange point, against your treaty and your wishes. They claim it to be only a temporary establishment as a relay between the outer system to their new colonies near the sun Detål. But if you truly are a proud people, you will not degrade yourselves into accepting such a statement.”

There was a momentary silence; Meska’s heart rate had increased, but the ball continued rolling. “The Ataran Federal Union, which I represent, prides itself in the preservation and protection of peoples in positions just like yourselves, those with too little to ever outpace human civilization, who can find strength in the unification of others like themselves, giving and receiving support and trade, covering each other’s weaknesses while contributing their strengths.”

One of the outwardly opposing Prefects spoke out to Meska. “Again you speak of us as though we are a lesser people, that if only we would join you then we might be considered a valued society!”

“And again, with respect I must state that is not my position,” Meska responded. “Your stellar neighbors – Denaria and the Kiosho Combine – they are the ones that see you as a neighbor to be taken advantage of, to be satisfied when needed and ignored when convenient. Others will follow them soon enough, only they will not even have a treaty to feign obligation to. The Ataran Federal Union is not your savior; you, and others like you, are instead the saviors of the Union. It is not that my people were once like you - we are you. There are others like you; every member of the Union is a civilization just like you, and we have coalesced our peoples into something more capable than the sum of its parts.”

Many of the Prefects were nodding. One of them, Ćēn, spoke up. “The ambassador is right. We can clearly see the trend of our society. Dearly as we may cherish it, our way of life is simply not sustainable. We’ll be overtaken within the next decade by the expansion of civilization. It is beyond our control.”

Another Prefect spoke up. “The Ataran Union is offering us a way to preserve our way of life and even expand our influence. This is an opportunity we may never see again.”

There was a pause in outspoken voices replaced by mutterings throughout the room.

“Delegate Nelvus,” Ćēn said, looking over at the man next to Meska. “We would like to proceed with the equipment summary you mentioned. I’m sure my colleagues would not object to simply reviewing the specifications”

“Of course, Prefect.” Nelvus responded. “I would be happy to do so at our meeting later today.”

As an offering of commitment, the Ataran Federal Union had sent a shipment of industrial processing components along with Meska and the delegation. The components included a custom program designed for the line of mining equipment used across Umaü, a set of drill components made from hardened alastron (a material made from a tungsten variant not found in this region of space), and several vats of a specialized acid developed via proprietary method in the Altus-Ceta-552 system that made the processing of some types of rock, such as many of Umaü’s most common minerals, much more efficient. These were intended to serve as a sample of what full integration with the Union could mean for these people.

After a short recess, the next set of negotiations began and Nelvus took the lead. He spent hours going over the details of their equipment – the direct impact it could have, the method and sustainability of procuring the consumables, and other industries where the Ataran Federal Union could assist – all the while fielding every question the Prefecture had. Meska found it relaxing to take a back seat for a while. In the end the Prefecture was certainly impressed, and as the offering was merely a gift to showcase what trade with members of the AFU was capable of, preparations were started that day to distribute the equipment throughout Umaü.

2 standard months later

Date: 12th of 9, year 235 of the Foundation Age.

“Everything’s looking excellent so far,” Meska said, browsing over the info readout. “You can see exactly when each facility began implementation of their packages, production saw a noticeable increase. And today it’s above the mean from past windows.”

Nelvus sat in Meska’s office in the diplomatic common area, the two of them looking over some production data the Uma government had finally given to Nelvus for release. It had not been easy to procure.

“As we expected,” said Nelvus. “I knew from the moment I got there, we’d be able to bump up their numbers. I remember telling you how archaic some of their methods were – at no fault to them, I can’t imagine where they might have sourced better hardware locally.”

“Have we sent any of this back to Union space?” Meska asked.

“I’ve been trying to but no, nothing yet. Everything’s just been put back into the local economy so far. I already have a few requests for samples though, I know a lot of end users that could use some of this stuff, but only after a large enough scaling of the economy. It would be way too expensive at their current capacity.”

“One day, if all goes to plan,” said Meska.

“Oh, and my regards to you and your connections,” Nelvus added. “They did not want to give this to me, but there was a lot of political pressure from the faction that most wants to join the Union. I know you and your friends here had something to do with that.”

Meska gave a mysterious smile. “All part of my job.”

Nelvus chuckled as he stood up. “I’d better be going then, I need to summarize this in a brief to relay back to Treminus.”

“Before you go, I wanted to ask, will you be headed to the Resonance Festival next week?” Meska asked.

“Resonance Festival?” Nelvus asked inquisitively.

“Yes, the festival the locals here celebrate to mark their new year.” Nelvus didn’t look keyed in, so Meska continued. “You know how this planet Umaü is in orbital resonance with the others in the inner system? For every two orbits Umaü makes around Detål, the subgiant Enjo makes just one. It gets close enough you can see its clouds pretty well from the surface here. The Uma people mark it as their local calendar turnover date. They have telescopes set up so you can get a great view of Enjo, and put on all kinds of festivities.”

“That does sound like a good time,” Nelvus said, responding with an air of genuine interest. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make the time for it though, I’m heading back out to the lowlands facility in a few days. It’s too hot to go outside there, I’m not sure how much they’ll be celebrating.”

“Ah, I didn’t realize you’d be headed out so soon,” said Meska. “Well thank you again, and take care.”

“You too. Enjoy your festival!” Nelvus said as he left.

8 standard months later

Date: 26th of 5, year 236 of the Foundation Age. 

Meska stood on a podium surrounded by various VR cameras. In the room below sat a small crowd, mainly the Prefecture and other government officials. It was a proud and momentous day; the Prefecture had voted and unanimously agreed to join the Ataran Federal Union. Weeks of bureaucracy were now behind them, all documents signed and all formalities realized. Meska was now giving a speech viewed in virtual reality by millions across the planet and, in time, to others off-world who would see the recording.

“Therefore,” Meska proclaimed, “by the authority relegated to me by the joint members of the Ataran Federal Union, it is with sincere and resounding pleasure that I today welcome the Prefecture of Umaü as its latest official member. This is a proud day for the countless people I represent, and I hope those before me here reciprocate that sentiment. People of Umaü, you join the ranks of twelve other civilizations who will joyously accept you as their equals, ready to assist you where you request it and ready to ask assistance of you where they may need it…”

Meska’s speech was followed by others, from both the AFU delegation and members of the Umaü Prefecture. A banquet then followed these ceremonies, out on the open plaza that topped one of the lower mountainous peaks near the diplomatic sector. Taller mountain spires rose across the landscape around them, dotted with glittering structures. As the sun set, the lights across the spires were joined by stars across the sky.

It was after dinner that Meska finally had a chance to catch up with Ōmala. The two hadn’t really spoken for weeks due to their busy schedules. For Meska, their catch-up was like an unwinding for the stress of the day.

“So, what is next for you then, ambassador?” Ōmala said, adding playful emphasis to the final word.

Meska chortled. “I’ll be returning to Treminus. There are some things I’ll need to wrap up there.”

“It has been so many months since you were last home, are you excited to go back? Do you miss it?” Ōmala asked.

Meska thought for a second, staring up at the glittering sky. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it. I do miss it. It’ll be nice to go back to my home, see everything familiar to me.

Ōmala gave Meska a smug look. “But…?”

Meska gave a sarcastic sigh. “Yes, yes. But, I’ve become so enamored with this planet. I love this place, its mountains, its sky, its people. It’s warm dry air. Despite having spent my life on Treminus, there’s something about it that now feels incomplete. I fear after I’ve been back on Treminus for as long as I’ve been away, I’ll miss Umaü then far more than I miss Treminus now.”

“Do you think that you will be able to come back here to Umaü, like you suggested before?” Ōmala asked.

“I think so. I really need to be back on Treminus for a while and get a feel for where my own people are heading next. But I do plan on eventually applying to be your permanent ambassador.”

“That would be wonderful,” Ōmala responded. “I have no plans for myself now except to continue my career here on Umaü, I see great things in our future. You and I could continue working well together!”

“It’s an alluring dream my friend.” Meska responded. “Let’s hope one day we can see it realized...”

50 standard years later

Date: 2nd of 10, year 286 of the Foundation Age.

Meska sat up from the cushion at the sound of an approaching aircraft, muffled until now by the warm breeze whistling across the patio. The aircraft slowed overhead, turning and disappearing behind the spire to land in the nearby hangar. Meska’s wait was almost over.

Directly above, the sun Detål shone brightly where it could from behind the glittering sunshields at lagrange two. Meska’s home, part of an Osko’vina (New Village), was built near the equator of Umaü. 35 years prior, after the rapid success of Umaü’s developmental progress, sunshields had been installed at lagrange 2 between Umaü and Detål to allow the middle latitudes of the planet to cool to habitable temperatures. Once lifeless and overheated landscapes, these regions of Umaü were now experiencing rapid population growth due to the system’s profitability and positioning along recent expansion routes. Its comfortable open-air environments were a welcome locale for settlers.

The wall pad chimed; the aircraft’s entourage had finally arrived at Meska’s door, which had been set to open automatically. Expecting no other visitors today, Meska just laid back and waited.

“Of all the things to get excited about,” Ōmala said as she casually walked out onto Meska’s patio, “I didn’t expect to be so endeared by someone who doesn’t stand when I enter.”

“Oh, I would always stand to greet the High Prefect of Umaü,” Meska said with sarcastic seriousness in fluent Veechn’t. “…Except you,” Meska finished with a grin, finally rising from the cushion.

Ōmala laughed. “How happy it is to see you in person at last,” she said as the two embraced.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, my old friend, simply wonderful. How’ve things been for you?” asked Meska.

“Very smooth! I just got back from my visit to Aona, that was an enjoyable experience without the election on my mind.”

“Yes, congratulations on that,” said Meska. “I’ll gladly brag that I actually voted for you this time. Not that it matters of course, you won in your typical landslide.”

“You voted, so you’re an official citizen?” Ōmala asked proudly. “How the years fly by… You’ve been living here a long time then, how long exactly?”

Meska nodded. “It’s been almost 20 years now since I retired to live here full time.”

“And you enjoy it?” asked Ōmala. “I’ve spent quite a tenable part of my life here, but I’ve found it always refreshing to travel other places.”

“I love it,” Meska replied. “And it’s thanks to you it’s such a wonderful place to live at all.”

Ōmala scoffed. “You flatter me Meska, but it’s Umaü’s people that make it Umaü!”

“Please, Meska said. “You helped to reform your homeland’s oligarchy into a democracy, then won all eight subsequent elections as High Prefect while instituting a series of social and industrial reforms that have substantially improved the social order of an increasingly mixed population. In all my years as a diplomat I never saw such a successful political career as yours.”

Ōmala chuckled throughout Meska’s monologue. “You’re missing all the credit Meska, it was you and the Union that helped us reach this state. If not for your work, we would have never joined the Union, never seen the progress we did. This planet would probably be an industrial dumping ground.”

“Your credit is appreciated but easily refuted. I was the diplomat at hand yes, but it could’ve been anyone,” said Meska. “You’re the person that has actually led your civilization through these stages of change.”

Ōmala exaggerated a nonchalant shrug. “It’s all the effort of our whole society Meska! Again you flatter me, but I could never be here without support of those like you.”

“Bah,” Meska gruffed. “Enough of all this back-and-forth. Congratulations on your election. What’s next for you?”

“I’ll soon be leaving for the Denarian colonies in Avae-Zetus,” replied Ōmala. “They’re wishing to secede from Denaria, create their own republic, and join the Union.”

“I heard about all that. How times have changed. They’d be what, the thirtieth member of the Union?”

“It will be either them, or the Rejunian Republic. They have still not ratified their environmental treaties; these delays are pushing them back years.”

“Speaking of such things as environmental treaties, anything on the ClearSky Proposition?” Meska asked with hesitant hopefulness.

Ōmala let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, my friend Meska. I believe it’s going to be rejected. We simply don’t have the economic directive to confine existing infrastructure to orbital lanes. That includes future stations which we’ve already contracted out.”

“Oh I understand, I understand,” said Meska with a dismissive tone. “I figured, I was just—”

“I know,” Ōmala interrupted. “On my visit to Aona, I was never shocked at all of the satellites visible at night. And when I realized I thought nothing of it, that saddened me. It’s becoming that way here too. The night sky isn’t what it used to be.”

Meska hoped Ōmala would finish with some sort of positivity, not knowing what that could be, but there was only a moment of silence.

“I suppose there’s never anything to be truly done about the unyielding march of civilization,” Meska said. “You can join the crowd or get trampled under its feet.”

“Spoken like an ambassador,” Ōmala said with a smirk.

The two shared a laugh then continued reminiscing. Ōmala was now the one with diplomatic stories to tell, while Meska could share tales of civilian cultural life. The day waned and Ōmala eventually had to leave, departing for who knew how long.

That night, Meska laid back on the patio to watch the stars. Criss-crossing the sky were arrays of orbital infrastructure, a telltale mark of a busy planet, providing a fleeting and unwelcome reminder of Meska’s old home. Still, life here on Umaü was more than satisfying. Perhaps out somewhere across the landscape, someone young was growing up knowing only this version of Umaü, only to one day leave it all behind for a new life across the stars.