One Step to the Great War (3)

At the western edge of the galaxy—the fringes of Eldra territory—chaos reigned in a lawless neighborhood overrun by warlords scattered since the Eldra civil war long ago. And in this place sat a peculiar planet called Nova Roma. The name alone was bizarre enough, but the inhabitants of this odd little enclave were Eldra. It was an Eldra planet. Yet the planet's name was in Imperial Standard, the empire's common tongue.

The buildings lacked the organic curves unique to Eldra architecture, clumsily imitating the straight-lined styles of the Human Empire instead. Street signs were written not in Eldra script, but in Imperial Standard. The Humanity Brotherhood—a group that styled itself the "Autonomous Principality of the Human Empire"—was the one and only faction born from the turmoil of the Eldra civil war after the Galactic War. Its founder had once declared:

"I have seen it. The race that will rule this galaxy. We must become that superior race! The Eldra are an inferior species, forever trapped in their worship of a pathetic, outdated tree they call the World Tree—a mere chunk of charcoal!"

They were Eldra who desperately wanted to become human, a warlord faction whose racial identity had flipped 180 degrees. Of course, the Human Empire didn't officially recognize them. Their self-proclaimed "autonomous principality" was a one-sided assertion by the Brotherhood, and the Imperial Foreign Ministry's official stance was simply: "We are aware of the faction's existence but have not established diplomatic relations."

In plain terms, they were a bunch of lunatics spewing pure madness and begging for fusion engine tech in exchange, so ignoring them was the right call. But the Humanity Brotherhood didn't mind being ignored. To them, the empire's dismissal meant "you're not human enough yet"—motivation to become even more human.

And today, on Nova Roma, the "human consciousness" ceremony was underway.

In Nova Roma's central square, a semicircular outdoor amphitheater mimicking Human Empire architecture held 300 Eldra still in their "inferior species" state, standing in neat rows. Regardless of age or gender, their tall, slender Eldra frames and long, pointed ears stood proud in identical outfits: white robes aping the empire's coronation attire, baggy on their lithe bodies since they were made for human proportions.

On the stage stood three figures. In the center was Lilian Magdalena von NovaRoma, governor of the Humanity Brotherhood. Her silver hair was cropped short—a cultural taboo for Eldra women, done to imitate human females and ascend ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to "superior race" status. Naturally, her pointed ears—the most inferior feature among inferiors—had been neatly rounded to superior specs. Sharp features and icy charisma completed the look. She wore a replica of an Imperial governor's robe, sewn from hologram images rather than the real thing, but that hardly mattered.

To her left stood Gaius Ferdinand, hardliner leader and one of the Brotherhood's founding members—the first to fully discard his Eldra name for a human one. Broad-shouldered for an Eldra, thanks to decades of human-style weight training to emulate muscular humanity. His ears were trimmed, his head buzzed like an Imperial soldier's.

To the right was Sophia Augusta, moderate leader. The most "reasonable" voice in the Brotherhood, she emphasized culture and philosophy over appearance. One of the few ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠high-ups who hadn't trimmed her ears... or so you'd think. She had. "Mind and culture come first," she said, "but that doesn't mean we ignore looks. We can't go around with matted hair full of dandruff."

Before these three, the 300 "preliminary humans"—still "inferior species"—began their oath. The text was penned by Governor Lilian herself.

The voices of 300 echoed through the square, trembling not with fear, but awe. They'd waited years for this—joining the Brotherhood, studying human history, culture, and language; passing exams and interviews. It took 3-5 years on average, instilling pride. Becoming superior meant the "duty" to enslave inferiors and superior "rights," forging a fiercer humanity than most.

Kaius VIII. Leo Astraea. The name of that 21-year-old ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gripping a transport handle rigid on Forge was recited reverently here, thousands of light-years away.

As the oath ended, the 300 looked up at the leaders, reflecting on their journey. The Brotherhood's teachings offered wisdom: Just as races had a right to rule the galaxy, minds had racial hierarchies. Fear, doubt, anxiety, pointless grudges and hate—those were inferior vermin thoughts. What was humanity? Strength, courage, violence, conquest, greatness. Inferior laws were for weaklings; cowardice was the inferiority they were shedding.

After the endless trials, entering the amphitheater and seeing Brotherhood "human race" members encircling the room, joy overwhelmed them—they were finally human. Then Governor Lilian stepped forward, medical laser cutter in hand for clean amputations. Time to trim ears.

"Next."

The first preliminary human ascended—a young Eldra male, long ears protruding through silver hair, eyes mixed fear and hope. Lilian wielded the cutter with a gentle smile.

The first received his ear trimming—the mark of superiority. Pointed tips rounded human-like, tears streamed from the young man's eyes.

"Thank you, Governor. Thank you."

"Save your thanks for His Majesty. He accepted us as human."

Never actually did, but details like that didn't matter here.

One by one, 300 ears trimmed over 2.5 hours. Lilian did them all personally—she loved it. Spectators—family, Brotherhood members—all short-eared, human-dressed, wept joyfully as kin ascended to superiority.

One "human" woman sobbed to her neighbor: "My son... he's finally human..."

"Congratulations. May His Majesty's blessings be upon you!"

Finally, all received the second proof: a skull-cross pin on their lapels. Existing members erupted in applause; the pre-humans' haughty pretense became real bone-deep pride and hate. Hate for sparing inferiors was a superior's natural emotion—not inferior. Joining the elite humans purging quadrillions of galaxy-filling vermin? Pure ecstasy. They'd fight to the death before renouncing it.

Two hours post-ceremony, in the Brotherhood governor's conference room: Lilian, Gaius, Sophia, and five military advisors around the table. One agenda: Forge battle.

BAM! Gaius slammed the table. "Die! Skull! Die! Blood! Die! More!"

Translation: "How dare those inferior scum—pathetic losers beaten by humanity—crawl back?!" His rage was genuine. The Eldra's Galactic War loss was shame to normal Eldra, but proof of human superiority to the Brotherhood. Platinum Fleet's return? Unforgivable treason—like roaches demanding humans vacate.

"We must sweep those inferiors away! Ourselves!!"

Gaius burned like a volcano, but Sophia doused him.

"Brother Gaius, I feel the same. But face reality."

She placed a datapad on the table.

The pitiful hologram display cooled Gaius's fire. "Fight Eldra regulars with this? Platinum Fleet alone has 150 rebuilt ships. That's just one—we scraped 120 at our limit. What can we do?"

"Still, for humanity—"

"Self-destruction helps no one!"

Sophia's logic rang true. Superior humans dying easily? Pathetic imitation, not real. Facts: Brotherhood couldn't face Eldra regulars head-on. Pirates and small warlords, sure—but Platinum Fleet? Annihilation. And that was just one regular force.

Gaius gnashed his teeth. "Then what? Sit and watch?!"

"We can't sit idle."

The room hushed as Lilian spoke. She was the Brotherhood's glue—mediating hardliners and moderates, finding common ground. She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rose slowly, gazing at the galactic map on the wall with ecstatic reminiscence.

"Remember that day? When we inferiors received 'enlightenment'?"

Imperial warships soaring over Eldra skies, skull-crosses emblazoned proudly. Heavenly tutors reminding vermin of their place. Thinking of it made their backsides tingle and frontal lobes buzz.

"Yes... they see us as inferior. Natural, thinking back."

All nodded. Despite Brotherhood superiority, they weren't closer to Imperial kin. Why?

"Truth is... we might not be human yet."

The room froze. The woman who'd just spent 2.5 hours trimming ears and declaring "Congratulations, you're human" now said they might not be.

We, fumbling chicks lost on enlightenment's path. His sacred, divine Majesty Emperor Kaius VIII surely scorned our silence from his throne. That superhuman worked even in battle! To him, we were no different from Erda inferiors—our "superiority" meaningless. Like the warships, no advice, no reply. But his silence demanded our answer.

Everyone but her gaped; Gaius exploded first.

"What?!"

Chair scraping, he shot up—most agitated in 420 years.

"We trimmed ears! Rescued 'superiors' besieged by forest inferiors and inducted them! And we're not human?!"

His fury made sense. Beyond ears, they'd sought and saved isolated "true humans" in Eldra space—a core mission. All that, then "not human yet"?

Sophia bit her lip. "If we're not human, what must we do?"

Calm, but shaken. Moderates believed "mind is human"—if even that fell short, where to start?

Lilian eyed them. "His Majesty ignored our coronation delegation request—no refusal, just silence. Don't you get it?"

Gaius paused. They'd messaged a delegation; emperor ghosted. Brotherhood read it as "not yet time." Lilian disagreed.

"Refusal means 'no.' Silence—neither accept nor reject—is 'not worth judging.'"

Gaius's jaw dropped. "Because... we don't seem human enou— Ah!!!"

Enlightenment. 420-year "human" eyes widened childlike.

Lilian nodded. "Exactly."

Sophia gasped. "So... His Majesty messaged: 'Become more human'..."

"Exactly!!!"

Lilian leaned forward, eyes mad. "He didn't forget us—went to that factory planet needing no saving, signaling us!"

She pointed to Forge on the map. "TR-7742-III. Forge. Dusty fringe factory world, numbered among 48 million systems. Why personally decree a holy war for that?"

"To protect human citizens..."

"Surface reason."

She tapped Forge. "A call to this grand crusade!"

Air shifted.

"His Majesty decreed holy war, drawing humans empire-wide to fight loyally, superiorly under his greatness. And winning!"

Sophia raised a hand. "By the time we join, won't it be over?"

Lilian chuckled. "You know one, not two. Why do inferiors crave our death over an ant-hill planet?"

Sophia pondered. "Inferior delusion of 'victory' they've never tasted?"

"Exactly!!!"

BAM! "Humanity's history—from Earth—is endless war, ferociously victorious! While we whine about ships, troops, funds, they fought regardless—and won every time. Winning now!"

She pounded again. "Surface: humanity endures. Beneath: 'True humans join this crusade!'"

Gaius's eyes lit. "Then...!"

"And we know why local Eldra inferiors hit our empire."

She indicated Eldra Coalition on the map. "Platinum Fleet to Forge? Not solo. Hardliner warlord orders. Right above us—we've watched closest."

Datapad on table: intercepted comms, fleet tracks, arms deals, military intel.

"Abandon that army-group on Forge? No."

BAM! "One task!!!"

Gaius and Sophia leaned in.

"We have intel on Platinum reinforcements to Forge. Human duty: share with fellow humans, apologize for lateness, beg holy war entry!!"

Declaration swept the room; factions sighed in awe at the brilliant, irrefutable superiority.

"Our only path from 'not human'!!"

Silence. Gaius rose first, tears of joy, fists shaking glee.

"Long live Emperor His Majesty!!"

Sophia stood, choking up. "Long live the Human Empire!!"

Advisors rose. "Long live Emperor His Majesty!! Long live the Human Empire!!"

Holy war declared.

Six hours later, Nova Roma mobilized. Meager forces, fanatic zeal boundless. 20 ships for defense; 100 prepping launch. 30,000 ground for planet guard; 520,000 boarding transports. 180 of 200 Giants loaded. All moved—factories churned ammo, shipyards rushed repairs, homes packed rations. New "humans" embraced: "See you in the crusade, brother."

Less war, more pilgrimage.

Lilian sent two transmissions. First to Emperor Kaius VIII:

Second: Internal broadcast to all members. Lilian at the podium, hologrammed planet-wide—like a failed art student turned leader firing up the masses.

Cheers planet-wide as 100 ships warped from orbit—engines humming, gates opening, blue streaks tearing space. Thus sailed tiny but heartfelt human crusaders to Forge.