“Mmmm.” Wallace sub-vocalised indulgently, leaning back in her chaise longue. “I understand this must be very frustrating for you. Rothians have a clarity of direction going back centuries. By contrast, us Humans are tribal by design.” The Plenipotentiary gestured between herself and Freyr, who blushed lightly. 

“We are all part of a rich tapestry going back thousands of millenia. A shared story that’s full of hope, yes. But also violence, deception, greed. We’ve been brought low enough times to understand the benefit to forming groups of like-minded people. But now, our civilization is spread across hundreds of objects, floating far apart in space.” Wallace took a pause to sip her tea. A finger of bright light brushed the water above their heads, from the surface. Freyr craned her neck but couldn’t see the source.

“These ancient bonds which tie our people, institutions, beliefs and ideas together are taut. Some have broken, snapped under the strain of generations apart, or the wars. Others have crystalised, and a few have evolved into something entirely new. This ‘red tape’ you see, is actually not an altogether negative sign. It shows that people are talking to others which they ordinarily wouldn’t. It is abrasive and sometimes violent right now, but I believe the unrest is symptomatic of old fractures which are finally beginning to mend. The question is whether our society will mend [i]around[/i] the Cradle, or eject it like our own bodies might with a foreign object.”