The passing of old Bladrov I, the human emperor's father, reveals a young tradition of that soft-skinned people, a tradition that by their childish accounting is called old. The present emperor retires and takes the name of Bladrov I himself, and his son, formerly Bladrov III, takes the throne, and with it, the ruling name, Bladrov II. It hardly matters, for the deep stars sing of treachery in every human heart, and they sing true as ever they have from the deepest wells of time. The peace of the mountains of Cryslon is long, and the time of the treacherous humans is short indeed. The years for me are as moments, and since the humans came to play in our galaxy, nearly every moment has been filled with riot and with earth-shaking events. I am the mountains, patient as stone, but havoc like this can not be abided.
2381: The human transports arrive. The moment of truth has come.
Seidon is conquered. By the magma of our stony hearts, by the blood that runs in their veins, that blood shall run, for these Humans are our Blood Enemies!
Yet I am the mountains. I am the stone. I bide my time, and live in peace, for time is ever on my side.
2383: Our metal ships that cross the stars now partly share in the life of our rocky people, and can repair such harm as is done to them in battle. So the time has come again to improve the rate at which we build our industry, and as I am the mountains, I take the long view, and reach for the greatest improvement we can make.
2384: Our colony at Selia, the fifth since the infamous attack on the pearl-domed harbor cities of Seidon, carries us across the threshold of galactic domination.
The golden droid speaks partial truth: Some leaders are preparing to merge, but the vile new Bladrov II is only preparing another attack on our rock beings, with another armed colony ship assaulting the fertile steppe world of Morrig.
2385: Incedius - and possibly Tao, another of the four stars we're colonizing this year - is near enough to Psilon space to bring us contact with their soft-skinned leader, Tachaon. Since the expansionist calls himself honorable, dishonor runs deep in his veins, but his five stars are not impressive, and though he will likely be as treacherous as wretched Bladrov, we will not be tempted to break the peace so far as to declare a second enemy. To this end, I propose a trade of 275 BC, and Tachaon agrees.
2387: With 64 fighters gathered at Morrig, easily doing away with the human colony ship in its sky, I supposed there should be no difficulty in dealing with the incoming human transports - less than twenty, with only duralloy armor and sublight drives.
Apparently, it takes eight of our swift laser fighters to take out a single human transport. With our tiny population at the young Morrig colony, the Humans steal a second world that was rightfully ours. It doesn't matter; in due course, it shall be ours once more.
2388: Perhaps our new neutron pellet guns will fare better against transports if we're forced to fire on them again. As neither ion rifles nor mass drivers are of much use for any purpose, and our bases will need deterrent power when they are finally built, work begins on merculite missiles, always taking the long view.
2389: Fiery Misha, brought into the fold at the same time as Regulus in the far north, is near enough to Alkari space to at last give us contact with their Farseer. He is known as a xenophobic industrialist, and lives up to his title, refusing to accept a trade package, with each of his two worlds filled with factories.
2391: The short-lived soft-skins are curious beings.
It appears that, unlike the humans, the Psilons speak their minds. If our scout ships arriving at Psilon worlds lead to war, they will do so just as Tachaon says: As a mere excuse for what that people already desires. For our part, we have no wish for battle, hard at work on the infrastructure of our gigantic empire. With our terraforming abilities tripled last year, we are putting the program aside for a while in favor of better assuring the peace with a bio toxin antidote, while this year sees our robotic controls lead toward still-greater battle computer power.
2393: The Alkari still refuse to trade merchant goods of any kind, but agree to a massively lopsided trade of their ancient ECM jammer for our best completed industrial construction technology. As we have no ECM at all and the tech should help our spies, and as the tiny avian empire is rather non-threatening, we agree.
Our transports continue to cross the stars in every direction, carrying the Silicoid rock beings to eventually fill our countless but barely-populated stars. This is an era of densely-packed years, too much time in every moment, and I fear it will be some time ere its end.
2394: With every contested world taken - the burning worlds of Moro and Omicron just this year - I propose a non-aggression pact with Tyranid, and even with our blood enemy, though that can be only a temporary truce, for Bladrov is sure to break his word before long and betray us again.
2395: Our industrial technology improves once more, and work will begin on armored exoskeletons for the warriors who must reclaim our worlds from the grip of human fingernails.
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Next: The Mountain Wakes