To: Auxesia, from the Unioners.

[Arno Schultzky]

Incoming Transmission

To: Not my favourite goddess in the pantheon.
From: Armin Jansen.
Subject: Last chance.

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Let me make this extremely clear for you.

You are not our problem.

We have no technology that is of value to you.

We want no part in any of your present conflicts - indeed, we regard the Order with suspicion.

We find the Outcasts as odious as you do.

Our income is primarily via smuggling, and we have not-meagre popular support amongst the law abiding citizenry.

We do not care for the Order, the Core, the plight of the human race, none of it. Our aliens have four limbs and two brain hemispheres - they do not glow in the dark, they serve no primordial horror. Your fight, is not our fight.


Here is a gift horse. Not a Trojan; a gift. If you look it in the mouth, it won’t bite.

When Auxesian assets, provided they are not in a live-fire situation or in any immediate peril, are stopped and questioned by Union combat air patrols, you answer their questions. A few, short, simple explanations as to where you have come from, and where you are going. Then, we let you off.




This is not a handshake. This is a cold shoulder. We glare at each other across the street then go our separate ways.

The alternative is we pull out machine guns, and pepper ourselves, the street, the storefronts - onlookers die, and nothing is quite the same again.


Now. I am a surprisingly well connected man. I have watched the shadow war which is developing between the Order, the Core, and you, for the mantle of humanity’s salvation and I wish nothing to do with it. I am a humble political glove puppet, Auxesia. I have no pretences to be a god. I serve Rheinland, in my own way, and me and the many like myself have but one intention - we wish to see our family safe. Our front door locked. Our boarders fenced.

We are activists by profession - and the substances we smuggle are predominantly inert, harmless things. Illegally cut diamonds outside of market regulation and inactive xeno trinkets. We do not perpetuate war by smuggling guns, nor addiction and degeneracy by peddling drugs. You may label us burglars, Auxesian, and you may be correct in your summarisation if you believe the gospel of the Liberty police. We have marauded our way through the independent worlds for aeons, yet we do so not out of avarice but to restore the lost labour rights of the common worker - to remove the globalists from their celestial perch. Yes, we are socialists, we are nationalists. Our goal is to permit the great to not be restrained by the small. Not to reduce all tenants to class power to anarcho-marxist rubble, but to rebuild the ladders for those who have the tenacity to dare climb them.

Us firing upon you is the result of your acts. You have, repeatedly, shirked sharing operational data with us when your ships are confronted traversing Rheinland aether. Now, we do not care about you. You are not significant enough to cause severe economic hinderance to the fatherland, nor do you have the motive power to snare the government in your power plays.


We are not the Colonial Republic. We do not care if you live, or die, so long as your life, or your death, does not hinder us. Die somewhere else - just not on my lawn.


So. I repeat myself. The next time one of your agents is quizzed as to their intentions, he answers. Directly - and we will let you potter off to do whatever it is you do when you’re not getting under our collective boots.




There’s two ways off the hangman’s chair.


The Unioners are very old, very large, and very unforgiving. As far as I recall, Auxesia interferes with terrorist organisations - not with polity reformers. Now. There cannot be more than a few thousand of you and there are, I’m afraid, quite the collective of us. Your technological acumen is naught if you have to kill a hundred of us for every pilot you bleed to attain numerical balance. Do not fight an enemy you do not need.

See, if you’re fighting us, you’re not just fighting us - you’re fighting our allies as well.

If you want to enter Rheinland via the front door, knock. Or you’ll have to scrounge up fresh transport assets to replace every hulk you drag through the Fatherland’s space ways.

It’s amusing. You enter -our- house without ringing the doorbell, and you accuse us of criminality. That won’t wash through history, Auxesian.

Trespassers will be shot.

Regards,
Armin Jansen.
???, Unknown Outpost, Location Undisclosed.

Transmission Ended

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