Chapter 2

The Republic of Deus Planitia was a small collection of 15 planets, only 3 of which were inhabitable. It had been created for freedom from religious persecution for those who believed still in Zeus, and the ancient Greek’s rendition of polytheism. Those years had come and gone, and yet, the country had somehow survived. Transformed from the ‘archaic’ ages when theocracy was the machine that ran it all to the much more modern republic that it had become.


President Michael DuValier sat alone in his office, staring out over the city as he thought of the decisions that weighed on him. His country had just received an incredible economic boost from the payment that his country received from the Union of Allied Planets. The war they had been fighting with the Talu’pal had become a southward journey when the ammunition had begun to run low. Deus Planitia, more specifically, the capital of Deus Prime was home the largest weapons producing facility in the region- Majestic Ammunition Co., and had donated almost 3 trillion tons of ammo to aid the effort. Deus Planitia’s militia was something to be desired. 17 ships to defend their little area of space. It had been well worth the investment to let someone else fight that war- the support was his way of winning friends.


Even with that boost, the economy had been failing. The purchasing of weapons from Planitian-based companies had fallen steeply. The UAP and other countries in the region had either ceased purchasing because they were no longer in need of ammo, or they had formed their own production facilities. It was his family that had once built Majestic, and he was quite frustrated with the current predicament. The economy had always been based on the idea that weapons would be purchased until the end of time.

DuValier slammed his fists on his desk, and stood up. His blood pumped quickly through his temples, and he grimaced a little. The wars that had taken place because of misunderstanding, and intolerance had ended. His country was going to collapse economically, because they had nothing else materially to put forward. Weapons, that was all he knew.


In fact, he’d been the CEO of Majestic Ammunition for the past 15 years. He still would be if he hadn’t decided that he wanted to take a turn for the presidency, and there were laws that restricted the current president from having anything to do with the weapon producing firms in the country- an attempt to keep power spread, and not concentrated in the president’s hands.


The comm unit on his desk chirped high and shrill, startling him slightly, “Mr. President?” the voice was of his secretary, Meredith Schiller.


He swiveled around in his large armchair, and pressed the button to talk, “Go ahead, Meredith.”


“Sir, Admiral Kahin is here to see you.”


“Well, send him in,” He straightened out his clothes, and stood, looking as official as he could with the way his day had gone. The door opened after a few seconds, and Admiral Kahin walked in.


Admiral Kahin was an older man, complete with hair loss, and a right-legged limp. He had a darker complexion, and piercing blue eyes that always said ‘I mean business, and if you don’t believe me, I’ll beat the sense right back into you’. He’d been the Fleet of Deus Planitia’s Fleet Admiral for almost 30 years now, and was looking weaker by the month, which was unfortunate for him, because he wasn’t what you would ever have described as ‘weak’. Eventually, DuValier would have to replace him, but he did value this man’s opinion more than just about anyone else. He thought that maybe he’d keep Kahin around until there was more pressure focusing on getting rid of the man.


“Admiral Kahin,” DuValier smiled brightly and extended his hand as Admiral Kahin struggled to get to it. DuValier leaned as far forward as he could from behind the desk to lessen the distance for the old man.


“Mister President,” his voice was shaky, and a little bit hoarse, “I have come to discuss an urgent...,” he turned to locate his seat, and then lowered himself very slowly into the chair, grunting the whole way, “an urgent matter of our national security with you.”


“Go ahead, Admiral, I have as much time as you need,” DuValier sat back down in his chair, and leaned forward, trying to put as much interest on his face to ease the old man’s stress.


“Mister President, somewhere in this country, a group of people are now... Right now, attempting to thwart your presidency. They believe that you are leading this country into chaos, and anarchy by not taking precautions against the inevitable change the reign of peace is going to bring. They are planning to do whatever it takes to stop you from being able to continue producing weapons en masse, and force you to change our main domestic product.


“Our intelligence operatives confirm that this group exists. They believe that the leaders of this organization derive from the UAP, that they are trying to stabilize the market for ammunitions in their own country, while eliminating the absolute collapse of our economy. This is not proven, and we have much researching that must take place, but, we are in a very delicate situation.


“As our policy has been to punish terror groups in the most brutal of ways, I would like to submit, sir, that we should refrain from that action- that even though this is a domestic terror threat, you would consider changing our economic policy- that we begin to plan for the future, and that we take our country to a new level of economic growth, in the which we increase our GDP and capital, and become more of an influencing factor in the region. If we do this, we are certain that the threat would disappear, and that our ability to remain a stable government will be greatly enhanced.”


DuValier leaned back in his chair a little bit. For centuries, Deus Planitia had been an unstable, loosely governed country. Regime changes, radical changes in foreign policy, and economic stability drastically changed from dictator to dictator, viceroy to viceroy, and president to president. It had only started to sure up about 70 standard years ago, and now that the age of conquest was ending, opening up to an era of peace, there was surely going to be trouble for the country. Even if DuValier found some way to produce a different product beneficial to the neighboring countries, it would be several years from now, and there was no way he could save the country from killing itself off before then.


“You are right, Lorence. You are absolutely right. But, we don’t have the means, or the resources to change our country’s output. We don’t have anything else to make, build, or sell. We are at the mercy of wars, and needs for weapons. If we don’t have that, we have nothing to stimulate this economy. We will wither like a dried reed.” DuValier shook his head.


“Then sir, we must make sure that war does not cease. That it continues for the time we need to find a new ‘power product’ that makes us useful.”


“Well, Admiral Kahin, what would you suggest? That we wage war?”


“No, no Mister President. That we make it.”