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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/OortProtocolHQ on 2025-11-12 17:26:16+00:00.

Hour 11 - Armstrong Base, Luna

March 16, 2476, 12:00 SST

The Selenite Council Chamber lay three hundred meters beneath the lunar regolith, carved from bedrock that remembered the Late Heavy Bombardment. Fifty councilors sat in concentric rings around the central display, where Earth hung like a diseased eye, its night side now showing a new, angry orange glow where New Ur had been six hours ago.

Council Prime Yuki Nakamura-Chen stood at the center, her posture betraying none of the tremor in her hands. Fourth-generation Selenian. Great-great-granddaughter of Aria Chen-Markov, the first human born on Luna. At 127 years old, she’d lived through the Elevator Incident, the armed neutrality doctrine, forty years of careful balance between the Great Powers.

All of it was about to shatter.

"Intelligence synthesis.” she commanded, her voice carrying in the chamber’s perfect acoustics.

The display shifted. Data streams from a hundred sources converged into a coherent narrative. Luna’s intelligence apparatus wasn’t the largest, but it had advantages: everyone needed their Helium-3, everyone used their transit points, everyone trusted their neutrality enough to speak carelessly in Selenian bars.

Director Konstantin Reaves of Lunar Intelligence stood, his augmented eyes reflecting data streams invisible to others. “Prime Councilor, assembled councilors. Based on our analysis of the past twenty-two hours, we present the following assessment with 89% confidence.”

The display showed the Empress station, hovering on Earth orbit.

“Item One: The Emperor is dead.”

Murmurs rippled through the chamber. Reaves continued without pause.

“Evidence compilation: First, Blue Flame reaction patterns. We’ve been monitoring their encrypted communications via quantum resonance signatures. In the past seventy-two hours, there have been seventeen instances of what we call ‘headless protocol’, messages seeking authorization that receive no response, then get rerouted to lower authorities.”

The display showed communication flow charts, red zones spreading like blood in water.

“Second, the Void Families intelligence network, which we pay handsomely for access, reports that Imperial Guard units have been recalled to Empress station from all frontier positions. This only happens during succession crises.”

"Third.” Reaves’s voice hardened, “our asset in the Blue Flame Technology Heresy Division reports that High Inquisitor Sato has been issuing commands using the phrase ‘by the Emperor’s eternal wisdom.’ Eternal. Not living. The linguistic shift is consistent across Blue Flame communications as of forty-eight hours ago.”

Councilor Reyes from Tycho Centrum interrupted. “When did he die?”

“We assess between March 13, 22:00 and March 14, 06:00 SST. The Aurora Station incident at March 15, 14:24 appears to be either triggered by or capitalizing on the power vacuum.”

Nakamura-Chen raised a hand for silence. “Continue.”

“Item Two: The Empire has no functional succession plan. The Emperor had no acknowledged heirs. Blue Flame doctrine prohibits discussion of succession while the Emperor lives, which means they never planned for his death. Our models suggest minimum eighteen months before a new central authority emerges, if ever.”

The display shifted to Mars.

“Item Three: The Planetary Alliance knows. Their Strategic Command has recalled all forward deployed assets to defensive positions. They’re preparing for something, but their democratic processes are causing paralysis. General Okonkwo has requested emergency powers three times in the past six hours. Denied each time.”

Now Mercury appeared, or rather, didn’t. Just a sphere of interference.

“Item Four: The Triumvirate has launched twenty-three heavy frigates toward the inner system. Trajectory analysis suggests they’ll reach station networks in twenty-five hours. Their intentions remain opaque, but the timing is not coincidental.”

Councilor Hassan from the Polar Deep facilities stood. “And the nuclear strike?”

"Item Five.” Reaves said, as the display showed the expanding radiation cloud over former New Ur. "The Dust Sworn’s nuclear attack was not coordinated with any major power. This was an independent action by a criminal organization. Which means, "

"Chaos.” Nakamura-Chen finished. “Complete breakdown of the monopoly on strategic weapons.”

Reaves nodded. “Our assessment: system-wide war is now inevitable. The power vacuum in the Empire, combined with Alliance paralysis, Triumvirate mobilization, and criminal organizations with nuclear weapons, creates a cascade failure scenario.”

“Probability of containing conflict?” asked Councilor Chang.

"3.7%.” Reaves replied. “And dropping.”

Silence settled over the chamber like lunar dust. Outside, the sun would set in four days, bringing two weeks of darkness. But the darkness had already arrived.

Nakamura-Chen turned to address the full council. "Honored councilors, we face the moment our predecessors feared since the Elevator Incident. The Great Powers are failing simultaneously. The question before us: How

does Luna survive?"

Councilor Oduya from the mining consortiums stood. “We have leverage. Without our Helium-3, their fleets don’t fly. Their stations don’t run. Their fusion reactors go dark.”

"And without Mars’s food, we starve in six months.” countered Councilor Park. “Without Earth’s nitrogen, we suffocate in two years.”

"We have reserves.” Oduya replied.

"Reserves calculated for temporary embargos, not total war.” Park shot back. "If we close trade, "

"When.” Nakamura-Chen corrected. “When we close trade. Because make no mistake, if we try to maintain neutrality while selling to all sides in this war, we become everyone’s target. The Alliance will demand exclusive supply. The Empire, or whatever emerges from it, will do the same. The Triumvirate…” she paused, “we don’t even know what they want.”

Director Reaves added grimly, “Intelligence suggests the Aurora Station event involved some kind of biological or nano-agent. Integration technology, possibly. If that spreads -”

"Motion for immediate consideration.” Nakamura-Chen announced formally. “Complete trade severance and military isolation. Code Seven-Seven: Selenian Severance Protocol.”

Gasps echoed through the chamber. Seven-Seven hadn’t been invoked since the Elevator Incident.

"Prime Councilor.” Councilor Hassan said slowly, “that’s… that’s complete isolation. No trade. No transit. No communication except emergency channels. We’d be -”

"Alone.” Nakamura-Chen said. “Like we were after the Elevator fell. Like we were when fifty thousand of us died and the Great Powers offered thoughts and prayers while determining who to blame.” Her voice carried decades of carefully controlled anger. “We trusted them with that elevator. We trusted their technology, their promises, their protection. Never again.”

"But our food supplies - " Park began.

"Will last eighteen months with rationing.” interrupted Director of Resources Fatima Al-Rashid. “Our nitrogen reserves, properly recycled, can maintain atmosphere for four years. Both longer than this war will last.”

“How can you know that?” Park demanded.

"Because.” Nakamura-Chen said quietly, “without our Helium-3, the entire system’s infrastructure collapses in six months. Either the war ends by then, or civilization does. Either way, our problem resolves.”

The display shifted to show Luna’s defensive capabilities: 500 warships, 1,000 defense platforms, 200,000 personnel under arms, nuclear arsenal of 500 warheads.

"If we sever.” Military Commander Adaora Okwu reported, “we can hold off any single faction for approximately eight months. If multiple factions attack simultaneously… four months. But that calculus assumes they have Helium-3 for their fleets.”

“Which they won’t.” Oduya said with grim satisfaction. “Because we’ll have embargoed it.” Councilor Reyes stood. "The economic consequences - "

"Are preferable to extinction.” Nakamura-Chen cut him off. “Honored councilors, I was seventeen during the Elevator Incident. I pulled bodies from the wreckage of Tycho Centrum. I heard the dying ask why the sky had betrayed them. I watched my grandmother, second-generation Selenian, realize that to Earth, we were still just a mining colony to be sacrificed in their games.”

She gestured at the display showing Earth’s burning cities, Mars’s paralyzed fleets, Mercury’s mysterious emergence.

“They’re doing it again. Playing their games. Fighting their wars. And they expect us to choose sides, to fuel their destruction, to die for their ideologies. The Emperor is dead. The Alliance is paralyzed. The Triumvirate rises with unknown intent. And criminals have nuclear weapons.”

Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper, but every councilor heard her.

“We are two million souls on an airless rock. We cannot return to Earth, our bodies won’t survive the gravity. We cannot flee to Mars, we have no fleet for evacuation. We cannot hide, there’s nowhere to go. Our only choice is to become the rock itself. Hard. Alone. Enduring.”

“Call the vote” said Councilor Hassan.

“All in favor of invoking Selenian Severance Protocol Seven-Seven?”

Hands rose. Slowly at first, the older councilors who remembered the Elevator. Then the military representatives who understood the tactical reality. Then the resource managers who’d run the scenarios.

“Thirty-eight in favor” the chamber AI an…

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