[center][b]The Garden of Ages
Prime Speaker's Branch
Republic of Rolvius
Rolvius, Landing City
19:22 Local Time[/b][/center]

The Garden of Ages, they called it. Back in the ancient days of the "Republic" when the Queens established their new homeworld with the aid of the Ashtar, it was seen as a revolutionary idea, that one could grow, rather than build a skyscraper. Most government buildings were just that, buildings. Artificial constructs. But the Queens had agreed that a symbol was necessary. The Homeworld was gone. Its atmosphere was acid, its skies trapped heat like a planetary greenhouse. Only self-contained colonies maintained any living presence on its dry, dead surface- colonies that held convicts, religious fanatics, and scientific teams working to return the planet to the hands of the living. Their task was a failed one. Most studies indicated a concentrated terraforming effort would require centuries to return it to habitability. And even if it was undertaken, there was little to be gained from restoring a dead past.

There was no going back, only forward. And forward required significant planning and a mind to the future. A sustainability. A requirement that, in this modern era, one must live with nature rather than master it.

The Garden of Ages, they called it. When the seed was designed in a lab, its genetics manipulated to meet their needs. The bark engineered to resist lightning strikes and high winds. The interior branches hollowed out as it grew higher to create great chambers and space for offices. The roots went deep, anchoring it into the earth as proof against earthquakes. The sap acted as a fire suppression system. They still had to pipe in water mist to keep it cool in the summer- there was no amount of genetic know-how that could simulate air cooling.

And its upper branches water cooling branches were absolutely shit, Prime Speaker Vannifar thought as she leaned against the table jutting out of the Executive Branch. The view was to die for, looking down at the skyscrapers and neighborhoods of Landing going about their day, riding on transport beasts through the city, traveling from building to building on the Arachno-webbing networks. The bureaucracy of the Republic hard at work, living, loving, and longing for a better tomorrow. She could relate. But her tomorrow required that she crush more than a few dreams to make sure she lived to see it.

"Any new numbers from the polling offices," she asked, still leaning over the edge of the platform, watching as a train of Arachnites skittered along the webbing between the High Trade Center and the Industrial Management Department.

Arianas, her party's campaign chairwoman, paused from taking a drink and reached for a datapad "Nothing yet for the big locations. Internal numbers are solid ever since you secured the nomination. The base is motivated." 

"I'm not worried about the base. They know to vote for me or the Nationalists will eat them alive." Vannifar decided she'd had enough of the view over the balcony, striding back toward the cabinet table- the one without a cabinet seated at it. Just her closest political confidant. "What about Manir? I can't win re-election without carrying the reconstruction colonies there. Any movement from them?"

"There is, but it's not good." Arianas only paused to finish her drink pulling up a spreadsheet on the tablet and sliding it toward Vannifar across the table. "I'm tracking significant headwinds on Manir for the Nationalists. Upwards of 60% of those surveyed say they feel the reconstruction efforts are too slow. And more than 70% say the occupiers should be contributing more."

"They can say what they want. Without the Ashtar to force them to the table, the other nations can tell us to eat shit and die. And we can't do anything about it."

"Not according to Zagara. She's proposing a blanket food blockade."

Vannifar nearly choked- and she wasn't drinking like Arianas. A blanket blockade? What she was proposing was nothing short of an artificial famine that could hit multiple nations, whole industrial planets. Millions dead if it was sustained. To say nothing of the military ramifications of multiple star nations coming to take the grain in the silos that they so badly needed.

"She's lost her brain. Her genes are completely scrambled."

"Maybe," Arianas said, tapping the table. "Or maybe she's tapping into something. We have a negligible presence on Agdemnar. The other powers are throwing artillery and air strikes and system strike forces at one another. We have an archaeological dig team. And what, one division to protect them while we dig up rocks?"

[i]To protect the nesting grounds.[/i] There were some things even Arianas wasn't privy to. Most of it involving state secrets. She didn't need to know that the "dig site" was also sitting atop a massive cave network. One teeming with currently docile Arnolith Queens, laying eggs by the dozens every day while the security personnel were prepping the hatchlings. The only thing worse for a soldier in the trenches of Agdemnar was an attack from below, as Arnolith attack drones erupted from his feet.

The plan was weeks, months from even approaching viability. But politics wasn't always a game to be played by the patient. Vannifar needed action soon to hold on to the Speakership.

"Arianas. I need you to get a private courier ship. Prep the engine, I'll give you the coordinates. And get someone you trust absolutely but will not make the newsfeed if they go to foreign space. I'll need you to deliver something to someone very important. And it cannot fall into the hands of the public."

Arianas, seeing her Speaker's face taking on a more and more somber tone, nodded, rose from her seat, and activated her personal com unit.

"I'll make a few calls, see who's available, and get it done. What are we doing?"

Vannifar took a moment to sit in the Speaker's Chair, old, warped, but a living relic. Thirty-seven Prime Speakers had held it before her. Thirty-six women and one man, guiding the hands and hearts of the Republic's people. History recorded most of them as some form of sinner or saint. She didn't know if what she was about to write would put her in the first or second category. But she hoped it would save her from being dragged into the first unwillingly.

[hider=Metternich,]
[@Ozerath]
I am writing to you directly because local political forces are going to push my hand. In short, the government of the Republic is going to be toppled within a short amount of time if I do not take action seen as "tough" toward one of the Belligerents in the Great War. You and I both know that the Commonwealth's involvement in the Manir occupation was negligible at best, and the Reparations of the Great Peace are not my foremost concern. Money was never important. Continued trade in manufactured goods is. We have a working relationship and an understanding of what is important to the future of our respective peoples. But Speaker Zagara is now running on a platform of full blockade against the Commonwealth, initiated from her first day as head of the Republic. 

Normally I'd be hesitant to put any stock in such a promise, but my sources tell me she very much believes this will force the Republic to increase payments for the War Reparations.

In short, I need to take bad action now to avoid catastrophic action later. In roughly two weeks time, I will announce a "temporary quarantine" of food shipments to the colonies for genetic irregularities in the makeup of the grain. It's a fig leaf. I know it. You know it. The food is safe and I'll provide our internal test records if you want them. In the lead up to that day, your markets will notice a heavy increase in options for food shipping contracts to the outer colonies of the Commonwealth. I will ensure that they are no-bid contracts, and we will honor any price cuts up to 20% to make this period more palatable for your citizens. 

The quarantine will last until the end of the election, the regulators will quietly release the shipments, and they will proceed with all haste to Commonwealth territory. And this will all be put behind us.

Please send any concerns, questions, or alternatives to my associate Ambassador Tovin. I appointed the man and trust him to securely return any communications to me.

~ Vannifar[/hider]