text: n the distance.
  
  God screams at him, the voice shattering his soul. SB-01776454934 starts marching forward.
  
  > Continue
  The Colonies are a massive amount of colonies spread over massive amounts of barren, useless worlds that the Coalition and/or Alliance expanded into before the Coalition-Alliance War. They don't include any Homeworlds of Species or Artifact Worlds, and were mostly founded to hold increasing population, to allow for increased industrial prowess and to simply expand to spite their enemies. They can be classified as the following:
  
  I. Terraformed Colonies
  
  II. Barren Colonies
  
  III. Industrial Colonies
  
  IV. Resource Worlds
  
  V. Barren Worlds
  
  Terraformed Colonies are colonies on worlds that have been terraformed to allow for colonies to be made and to better suit the colonists. These worlds tend to hold massive populations and a sizeable military base.
  
  Barren Colonies are colonies on worlds that have not been terraformed. These colonies only hold a small population, and were mostly formed to deprive their enemies of taking the planet.
  
  Industrial Colonies are planets with massive factories installed to produce things which are valuable to society such as spacecraft, weapons and technology. They are very valuable, though in small numbers.
  
  Resource Worlds are worlds that hold small colonies to take advantage of their resources, such as worlds to mine for metals and minerals, worlds that hold massive farms or worlds that hold valuable livestock.
  
  Barren Worlds are worlds without any colonies or other important things.
  
  The Colonies surround the Throne of Gods, which surrounds the main bulk of the Coalition Empire.
  
  > Continue
  These colonies are defended by several large military installations, which will allow for some resistance against the Chykri, but ultimately this area will be quickly conquered with massive losses. Your lieutenants have asked you to meet them in the War Room to decide on several policies to determine the fate of the Colonies.
  
  > go to the War Room
  You arrive at the War Room, to see all your lieutenants there. Thanks to the Chykri's pause in advance to restock and regroup after the remainder of the Coalition Fleet stopped their advance after their damaged fleet attempted to advance after the breaking of the Apollo's Ring, there is a generally better attitude than usual.
  
  "Plato's concept of the Philosopher King shows that Thar'Achilles should take control of the Coalition as dictator." Thar'Kaan says.
  
  "You're an idiot. The Coalition was founded on the concepts of democracy and freedom. There can be no dictator in that." Ashley-Dante says.
  
  "Democracy is idiotic. Why does Thar'Achilles or you or me get the same amount of power or votes as an declawed, weak-toothed worker who's job is to push buttons and doesn't know what the Chykri even are?" Thar'Kaan replies.
  
  "Who decides who's superior? Why should Achilles be put in charge? Why not me, or Cabana?" Ashley-Dante replies.
  
  "I agree with Dante." Cabana says. "I should be put in charge of the Coalition as an all-powerful dictator."
  
  "That's not the point..." Ashley-Dante starts.
  
  "Cabana would crack the stone and let the magma flow forward and burn our flesh and hide." Akaid says.
  
  "I... thanks?" Cabana replies, confused.
  
  "Gentlemen, have we repelled the Chykri? Did they all mysteriously die from a cold? No? Then stop debating philosophy and get to work." You say.
  
  You take a seat at the table.
  
  "General Achilles, Gig and I have a proposal for you." Commissar Mast says, approaching you, quickly followed by General Gig.
  
  "What's the proposal, Mast?"
  
  "The Colonies hold a massive population that is makes massive amounts of profits through manufacturing, farming and similar things. The Colonists are living carefree, idyllic lives while our soldiers are dying while fighting, not getting proper supplies, are suffering from malnutrition and even worse." Gig says, a low hum being emitted from the new treaded platform the slug-like alien sits on.
  
  "We wish to increase taxes for the duration of the Chykri War by threefold to supply the soldiers." Mast adds.
  
  Cabana notices the conversation, and walks over. He briefly coughs mucus into a handkerchief, before sitting down.
  
  "Is this Gig and Mast's tax plan? Leave it to the Alliance Commies to turn our glorious nation into Stalinist Russia, or China, or Keth." Cabana says.
  
  "I take offense at that. The Alliance has many faults, but our tax system in times of war was impeccable." Gig responds.
  
  "Ah yes, that explains the devastating loss the Coalition had in the war where me and Achilles were executed." Cabana replies.
  
  "There were many factors...!" Gig starts, before you raise a hand.
  
  "If we're going to debate a war, let's debate the one we're in!" You say angrily.
  
  "Our tax system will allow for a more flexible and stronger defense of the colonies, and a stronger military and could save the Coalition at large. What good is the colonists' paychecks when they're wiped out by Chykri?" Mast says.
  
  "Achilles, Mast and Gig make fair points, but they're ignorant. Their "flexible and strong" tax system crippled the Alliance Economy. They received a short boost, but after that they were crushed. We need to think long-term." Cabana replies, before wiping a layer of mucus covering his eyes.
  
  Mast and Gig raise interesting points, yet so does Cabana.
  
  > install the new Tax System
  You decide to follow Mast and Gig's plan. The new tax system is quickly implemented. Although this will most likely cripple the colonies' economies long-term and destroy their infrastructure and livelihoods, this does boost the military effort and improve the defense of the colonies.
  
  > Continue
  After the tax scenario, it seems everyone of your lieutenants has new advice. You stride through menial nonsense like the wage of soldiers, the use of religious practice in warfare and whether war crimes even can be committed against the Chykri, all of which end of being a massive waste of your time as they technically can't even be decided by you as it requires the full Council behind you. Eventually, you get to the topic of the various rebels, pirates, raiders and resistance groups. These various groups have all retreated in Coalition space to escape the Chykri, and now need to be either destroyed, allied with or ignored. Thar'Kaan is the first of your lieutenants who wants to deal with the various Garavan Raider Clans, Pirate Crews and Mercenaries who have united under Thar'Sklain.
  
  "Thar'Achilles." Thar'Kaan says, sitting down next to you. "We need to take control off the forces under the... UNTRANSLATABLE..." Thar'Kaan snarls, tapping the machine strapped to his ears and throat. "The forces under the dishonoured Sklain."
  
  "Don't you mean Thar'Sklain?" You ask.
  
  "Thar? Sklain has not earned that title! He ran at the battle the Iron Skull, he surrendered to the Alliance, he destroyed the statue of the One Clawed Father and he refuses to fight the Chykri!"
  
  "OK, OK! I'm sorry, hell, Thar'Kaan. Calm it down."
  
  Thar'Kaan bears his teeth, but nods.
  
  "I want you and I to go to the "Great Hunter's Skull", the unholy flagship of Sklain, and kill him. If I kill Sklain in a fair fight, I shall become their Chieftain and unite them under the Thar'Garavan."
  
  "Of course. When shall we go?"
  
  "Tomorrow evening."
  
  "Of course."
  
  Thar'Kaan nods his head at you in thanks, before quickly leaving. Akaid quickly floats up next to you in his tank.
  
  "Your blade is poised over the heart of Sklain, hunter of children, skinner of the wounded, eater of souls. I wish to place my fins around the blade to join you in the release of his soul into the maw of the spirits of his victims. May I come with you to confront Sklain?"
  
  > Yes
  "Of course, Akaid."
  
  "My many thanks entrap you with my gratitude. Upon your death I promise to skin your and turn your skin into a Coalition Flag, a symbol of Freedom, Love, Liberty and Life."
  
  "Thank you?" You say, beginning to regret that decision.
  
  "Of course."
  
  As soon as Akaid turns to leave, exhaustion hits you. You turn and quickly head towards your bed for a good night's rest.
  
  > Continue
  You sit next to Thar'Kaan and Akaid. Thar'Kaan holds a pair of incredibly sharpened knives, clenched tightly in his scaled hands, in the passenger area of a space shuttle heading towards the "Great Hunter's Skull".
  
  "Calm down, Thar'Kaan."
  
  "I am calm. If I wasn't calm, I would be peeling off my scales and grinding them to dust. Or maybe I'd skewer the fish for coming here."
  
  "My kind has been massacred by these fiends. I shall gain vengeance with the heat and fire of magma behind me." Akaid says.
  
  You shrug, and prepare for landing. After a few minutes of tense silence, the shuttle docks and the door opens to reveal a tall Garavan holding a rifle with a massive bayonet. Thar'Kaan rises, his two blades clenched tightly in his hands.
  
  "Sklain." Thar'Kaan says, snarling.
  
  "Kaan." The tall Garavan says.
  
  The pair stare each other down for several seconds, although it seems like an eternity. Finally, Sklain breaks the silence.
  
  "I'll take you to the Captain's deck." Sklain says, turning to walk off.
  
  "His mouth says nothing while his eyes gloat of the thousands of fallen, souls consumed by the evil that consumes him." Akaid says.
  
  "I'm going to kill him in about five minutes." Thar'Kaan says, quickly following Sklain.
  
  > follow Sklain
  You walk with Thar'Kaan, Sklain and Akaid.
  
  "What is the reason for you visit, Kaan?" Sklain asks. "Why have you brought a human war criminal?"
  
  "Thar'Achilles is no war criminal. His actions against the Garavan during the Human Wars were completely justified as a warrior-chief." Thar'Kaan replies, growling.
  
  You come across a large door to the Captain's Bridge.
  
  > Continue
  "Why are you here, Kaan?" Sklain asks.
  
  "We're here to..." You begin.
  
  "Who the hell asked you to talk, War-Criminal?!?" Sklain says, baring his teeth.
  
  "I told you, Achilles is not a war-criminal!" Kaan says, baring his teeth as well.
  
  "He bombed our people rather than face them in battle, Kaan. When they were in battle, they didn't even eat our fallen heroes, they turned them into worm food. My men deserved to be eaten by their betters, their killers, real warriors, not worms." Sklain says.
  
  "Ah. How do you know this? Did you catch a sight of them doing so when you were running for your life? Did you even have time to bring your weapons? I know you didn't have time to bring your honour."
  
  Sklain draws his blade and presses it against Kaan's throat as Kaan points his two knives against Sklain's chest.
  
  "Get off my ship, Kaan."
  
  "Listen, Sklain: We want to make an allian..."
  
  "Death to the alliance! Sklain will sell your kids to the Chykri before he'll help us! I challenge him to trial by combat!"
  
  "I accept!"
  
  The pair lower their weapons, growling.
  
  "Call the crew to the Captain's Room, Sklain." Kaan growls.
  
  Sklain quickly radios his crew, who quickly begin assembling in the room and sitting off to the side. Two short, skinny Garavan push you off to the side. Around the throne, a small circle is formed out of Garavan wielding spears. Kaan walks over to you, pushing past two spearmen.
  
  "Thar'Kaan, we came here to make an Alliance." You ask, frustrated.
  
  "Fine. Once I kill Sklain and take over as leader of his forces, I'll make an alliance with you."
  
  You sigh.
  
  "What's the rules of the Trial?"
  
  "We each get a short sword or two knives, nothing else. We fight and kill each other."
  
  "That's it?"
  
  "Pretty much. If we try to flee the spearmen kill us. Those are the only rules. We Garavan are a simple people in regards to fighting."
  
  "OK. Good luck."
  
  "Luck? My biggest fear is that Sklain will somehow manage to leap over the spearmen and flee the fight."
  
  Thar'Kaan turns, and begins walking towards the center. Off to the side, a bell rings. As soon as the bell rings, Thar'Kaan raises his two knives and Sklain raises a small sabre. Thar'Kaan charges forwards, diving through the air. He ducks under a sword swing and slashes two long cuts across Sklain's chest, before rolling to the side. Sklain thrusts his sword, cutting a hole in Thar'Kaan's shoulder letting out a wave of blood. Thar'Kaan roars, and leaps forward, catching Sklain and pinning him to the ground. He skewers Sklain's power arm with his knives and he drops his sabre.
  
  "You should've died fighting with me against the Coalition Humans. Now you die bleeding on the floor!" Thar'Kaan yells.
  
  Sklain bears his teeth, and draws a small pistol from his holster.
  
  > Interfere
  You charge forward, as Sklain fires. Thar'Kaan's head explodes and he falls to the side, as you yell. You draw your side arm, and unload a full clip into Sklain's chest as he wails pitifully. As your gun clicks empty, you hear a light round of booing from the Garavan, no doubt unimpressed by your use of weapons and you status as a human.
  
  "Hyprocrites." You mutter.
  
  You here a deep, wet gurgling, and look to your right. Thar'Kaan lies, blood bubbling from the wreck that once was his snout. Then his hand raises.
  
  "Achilles..." You make out through the wet gurgling. "Help me up."
  
  Thar'Kaan attempts to stand, and you catch him as he falls.
  
  "Be honest... how much will my face scar?" Thar'Kaan whimpers.
  
  "How the hell are you still alive, Thar'Kaan? Your face will be scarred to shit."
  
  "This is good. I will find many wives."
  
  Thar'Kaan stands, and you wonder how the hell he's not dead yet.
  
  "GARAVAN! I am Chief now!"
  
  "You were helped by a pitiful human with a gun!" A Garavan Spearmen shouts.
  
  Thar'Kaan picks up your pistol, calmly reloads it, and shoots him in the head.
  
  "Anyone else?"
  
  A few men begin leaving, but the majority stay.
  
  "Good." Thar'Kaan says. "Achilles, take me somewhere to get medical help. Or to die, whichever you see first."
  
  > Continue
  Over the next few weeks, Thar'Garavan recovers despite objections that a Garavan could survive an injury like that from three separate doctors. His snout and many of his scales have been torn away, leaving him with a thick, pink scaring over half his face. Still, he seems happy about his scarring, and quickly brings the new Garavan forces into his own tribe and at your disposal. The Garavan Forces disperse to some extent due to their hatred for your use of guns and you especially, reminding you of your hatred from them during the Garavan War, but the majority of them stay under Thar'Kaan out of respect and are brought under your control.
  
  > Continue
  You sit in the war room, watching Thar'Kaan out of the corner of your vision. Having half a face was only quadrupled the amount of "visitors" he's been getting, disappearing into a side room for about half an hour before returning. You'd consider telling him to knock it off if he hadn't taken a bullet to the face and almost died for the Coalition.
  
  "Hey, everyone!" Cabana shouts as he walks into the room. "I've got something to show you guys!"
  
  Cabana motions everyone into his office, where you sit in a battered armchair. Cabana wipes muscus forming over his skin, and begins preparing a video to be played.
  
  "This footage was taken from the Rios Colony. It was surrounded by the bulk of the Chykri army, and taken over. Oh, hey, Thar'Kaan. You look as fucked up as I am."
  
  Thar'Kaan snarls, but says nothing.
  
  "OK... Here it is." Cabana says, as a large screen descends from the ceiling in front of you all.
  
  On a large screen in front of you, a video plays. It shows a small battle where the Chykri are invading a small colony. It's taken from the view of a Remnant's head mounted camera, as they desperately try to hold off the invaders. Chykri grunts march forward in unison, firing at a few fleeing clone civilians. They move robotically, like soulless monsters who only wish for bloodshed. You watch a Tarn lying on the ground detonate his explosives vest, "killing" himself and two Grunts. A small group of Probiscan Soldiers attempt to hold what looks to be a Probiscan Church while a group of Garavan Warriors attempt to defend a trio of Antimites firing the sonic cannons on their back. A Chykkri Gunhead releases a barrage of missiles, slamming into the Remnant Cameramen and sending him to the floor. The Remnant continues firing his gun as more and more of his allies fall as Chykri Rampagers fly strafing runs against the church. The Remnant Cameraman takes another round to the head, and lies there briefly for a few minutes as Chykri lie past him.
  
  "Wait for it." Cabana says, and quickly fast forwards through an hour of footage from the Remnant's camera as the camera gets fuzzier.
  
  Eventually, just as the Remnant's camera is about to run out of power, you get a glimpse of a Pyramid-type thing in the Sky. It's only distinguishing feature is a small, red dot, similar to an eye, on the Sphere.
  
  "There." Cabana says, pointing at the screen.
  
  "Look at it. We've yet to see a Pyramid type ship, but we believe we know it's purpose. Planetary-side Detection Beacons reported that various signals are being emitted by this Pyramid, henceforth known as the Monolyth, which are being bounced off the smaller Spheres across all the territory controlled by the Chykri."
  
  "It's the center of a communications network." You say in disbelief.
  
  "No. It's the center of THE communications network. The Chykri's central communications network. If we destroy this, we destroy the Chykri's only way of communication. Now, let's be realistic here. If we can take this out, we slow, maybe even stop the Chykri advance, for how long we're not sure. Optimistic, and I mean insanely optimistic, estimates are up to a year." Cabana says.
  
  "That's buying us only a little time. We'd be just as screwed." Tarn says.
  
  "Stop being such a downer. You've already lived a long life. This might not win the war, but it'd be a step in the right direction. We can't do anything about it yet, but I thought I'd keep you all up to date. I wanted to make it a surprise when we were more ready to attack it, but I might get assassinated tomorrow, so I guess I should make sure at least somebody knows."
  
  "Well done, Cabana. This is impressive work." You say, standing and patting him on the back.
  
  "Dante's work with saving the Garavan Diesel Ships was impressive work. This is my fucking magnum opus." Cabana says proudly.
  
  "Stop being so smug, and get back to work. I need someone to meet with Remnant War Fleets to defend colonies."
  
  "Yes, sir!" Cabana says, saluting.
  
  > Continue
  Ashley-Dante sits down to your right, dropping a datapad in front of you.
  
  "What's this?" You ask.
  
  "A death toll. We've had three recent battles emerge." Dante says.
  
  "We're losing entire worlds to the Chykri. What's your point?"
  
  "This isn't Chykri. This is the Clone Liberation Force."
  
  You look up from your work. The Clone Liberation Force is a terrorist group, freedom fighters or criminals, depending on who you ask, who fought the humans for clone liberation before Senator Chang secured Clone Rights and Freedom. After this, they moved to a small system known as the Mirror, named after the Clones who saw themselves as a "mirror" to their human templates.
  
  "What were the attacks over?" You ask.
  
  "Territory disputes. Coalition Ships went into space to get a better position to ambush a Chykri Sphere. The CLF asked them to leave. They did not."
  
  "What do you suggest?"
  
  "I want to go with you and a few men of my choice and talk to their leaders. I think we could make an alliance with them and bring them into the Coalition."
  
  "When?"
  
  "I'll need a couple days to set it up."
  
  "Done."
  
  As Ashley-Dante walks away, your watch beeps. You check the time, and realize you haven't eaten or slept. You stand up, and go to eat. You notice Cabana, Commissar Mast and Admiral Yarcel heading to eat as well.
  
  > eat alone
  You find a restaurant that's not too busy, an Antimite Restaurant that's a cross between a diner, a brothel and a junkie's den. You order the human-centeric Fruit Bounty, and eat as you watch Antimites and various other species disappear into the private rooms to do drugs or have sex. Such simple needs they have. You miss the time when you were a marine. You briefly remember getting drunk with a few of your squad members and finding your way into a Chosen Temple and consuming a large amount of alcohol that's apparently served at temples. Your meal arrives, and you begin eating, consumed in your memories.
  
  > Continue
  You sit in a shuttle, next to Ashley-Dante and several other clones. To your right is Emelé-Dante, who shows you what Ashley will look like in about fifty years. Across from you is three identical looking clones who all managed to secure important yet wildly different positions, being a Navy Admiral, a Military General and a Minister of Foreign Policy. Finally, there's a short, squat clone who's hairier than Commissar Mast.
  
  "So, General. Have you been to the Mirror before?" Emilé-Dante asks.
  
  "No, I haven't."
  
  You here the thud of the shuttle landing.
  
  "Ah, we're here." Ashley-Dante smiles.
  
  You stand as the shuttle doors open, giving you your first view of the Mirror. The town looks like a bastardization of the wildness and overpopulation of New York. You see various people doing their business, many sharing faces but none looking alike due to a variety of tattoos, hairstyles, died hair, jewelerry and articles of clothing that range from Cowboy Hats to Top Hats to combat armor. A group of six Clones, all with heads shaved and dyed various colours all wearing combat armor with various pieces of jewellery approach you. The first says something into her radio, and walks up to you.
  
  "General Achilles. Come with me, I'll show you the First Citizen."
  
  You follow the squad as they escort you through various side streets and buildings towards the Central "Government" building, the word "government" being used very loosely in this anarchist madhouse. As you walk, you're given your first view of the city. Extravagant houses with automated turrets stand proudly next to miserable concrete slabs filled with clones in various stages of drug addiction. You pass a bar where people are getting high on ship fuel, and three separate open brawls in the street. Finally, you come across a large building, covered in what are either political symbols or juvenile graffiti.
  
  "Inside, General." One of the Escorts says, and you enter the building.
  
  You're quickly led through winding hallways and up spiraling staircases to a small office. Inside sits an elderly man who looks like a pensioner whose mid-life crisis never ended, First Citizen Alpha. His white hair is streaked with green, his face is studded with bits of metal and he wears a brown suit. A half empty bottle of vodka sits in front of him.
  
  You extend a hand, which he simply stares at. You shrug it off, and take a seat.
  
  "General Achilles. How goes life in the Coalition? Destroying freedom and liberty as I remember?" He asks.
  
  "Well, there's this little thing called the Chykri who will wipe out all life if we don't stop them. I'm dealing with that."
  
  "Ah, is that why you're here? To enlist the citizens of the Mirror to die in your war."
  
  "My war? Have you and the Chykri come to an amicable and fair agreement?"
  
  "The Chykri aren't my problem to deal with, they're yours."
  
  "The Chykri are the problem of every goddamn person on this side of the galaxy! Do you want to die, Alpha? Do you want to see the Mirror burn?"
  
  To your surprise, First Citizen Alpha stands and hits in. Not even a punch, but the Clone slaps you across the face.
  
  "Go fuck yourself, and fuck your Coalition."
  
  > Attempt to calm the First Citizen down
  You attempt to calm the First Citizen down, but he only tries to strike you again, which you easily dodge.
  
  "Please, let's negotiate."
  
  "Fine. You want to negotiate? Let's negotiate. You'll get the military support you need if you help the Mirror expand into the nearby planetary system that's only the home to Garavan Tribes. Do that, or get the fuck out."
  
  > storm out and leave the planet
  You quickly make your way out of the room, without saying a word. You're escorted back to your shuttle.
  
  "What happened?" Ashley-Dante asks.
  
  "He doesn't want to negotiate. Once we deal with the Chykri, I'm sending the fleet over here to glass this planet."
  
  "Calm down, Achilles. I'll try to turn them around."
  
  "Don't bother. They can go fuck themselves. Let's move on to the next problem in an endless line of shit I have to deal with."
  
  > Continue
  The sharp, painful sound erupts and breaks you from your blissful sleep. You look up, to realize you've fallen asleep at your desk. You feel some pride that you set an alarm clock before falling asleep, but you're still annoyed you haven't headed home. You quickly stand up, and Cabana almost immediately enters, holding two cups of coffee.
  
  "Hey, Cabana." You mutter.
  
  "Here. Drink these. Both of them, I don't want any." Cabana says, putting the two cups of your desk.
  
  "Have you poured whiskey into these?" You ask, taking a sip.
  
  "I pour whiskey into all my drinks. It's my culture."
  
  "What culture?"
  
  "My Dad's culture."
  
  "You don't have a dad, Cabana."
  
  "I do, technically. It just happens to be a monstrous parasite. Still, the parasite did consume Ethanol, so it's my heritage. Drink the coffee, Achilles, I don't have time for this. You have a shit ton of files to catch up on."
  
  Cabana drops a small stack of files on your desk, and gives you a pat on the back.
  
  "Good luck, buddy. I have to go chat with some Chosen. Do you know how much I hate those religious bastards? So much. Goodbye." Cabana says, leaving.
  
  You briefly flick through the files. Most are inane drivel that you push aside and you look at the main ones: The Thermal Vents of Railor, the Erebus Suicide Jacket, the Christ Act, the Hoplite Act, the Alliance Remilitarization Act and finally the Achilles Act.
  
  > start going through the files
  You start, and quickly begin reading about the Thermal Vents of Railor. Railor is a large planet similar to Uranus, with several massive thermal vents. The Srel'Kit Garavan Tribe wishes to set up massive factories using Ancient technology, which could produce invaluable weapons and armour for the war. Unfortunately, these vents are also the ideal location for a massive Scairtt Colonization Programme that could keep the Scairtt Species from going extinct and even increase their numbers. The Factories' pollution would ruin the ability for Colonies to be formed, so one or the other is necessary.
  
  > make the Thermal Vent Factories
  You decide to make the factory, prioritizing the war effort and defense of all you have over the Sciartt. The Scairtt are, quite obviously, offended and angry about this decision and withdraw some support from the Coalition.
  
  > Continue
  Next is the authorization of the Erebus Suicide Jacket. The Jacket is designed to release a small explosive charge through the internal organs of the wearer to kill them instantly while firing a large amount of shrapnel at the surrounding area. The Jackets are worn by some Tarn Drones, though many other soldiers are requesting them to avoid the painful death that can occur on the battlefield when mortally wounded. The counter-arguement, of course, is that this could lead to serious accidents or the death of soldiers who might've been healed. You have three options: Ban the Erebus Suicide Jacket, Authorize the Jacket, or authorize it only for Tarn Drones.
  
  > ban the Erebus Suicide Jacket
  In banning the Erebus Suicide Jacket, you both reduce the military capabilities of Tarn Drones in battle and annoy Tarn that you've taken away his right to use the suicide jacket to limit his pain. Still, this has little effect other than that.
  
  > Continue
  The Christ Act, named for the religious leader as described in the Christian Bible, is a new act meant to target recruitment. The Act means that any citizen can join the military for a long amount of time or until the war ends to gain Coalition Citizenship and a Pardon for their crimes, barring crimes against the Coalition and specifically bad crimes. This would greatly increase the amount of soldiers fighting for the Coalition, but allow for organized and unorganized crime to spread and escape punishment.
  
  > authorize the Christ Act
  You authorize the Christ Act, which greatly boosts military recruitment. This will have very unfortunate side effects, but these won't become clear until long after the Chykri threat is gone, or never if you fail to defeat the Chykri. For now, the Coalition War-Effort is much stronger.
  
  > Continue
  The Hoplite Act is a new act being pushed by Thar'Kaan and the Garavan Tribes, most prominently the Thar'Garavan, the Srel'Kit and the Anchrest Tribes. The Hoplite Act is an act that allows for members of the Garavan Tribes to replace their standard Coalition combat armor with their ancestral armor. Polls state that only a fifth to a quarter will take this choice, which is still a large amount of soldiers. This would improve morale, gain Garavan support and increase recruitment, but obviously ancestral armor, while ornate and sentimentally valuable, is much, much weaker and ineffective.
  
  > pass the Act
  You pass the act, which works as expected. You gain Garavan support and recruitment increases, although your military as a whole suffers from replacing the combat-tested nanoweave super-soldier armor with metal plates decorated with bones.
  
  > Continue
  The next act is the Alliance Remilitarization Act, which involves using the Alliance military's extensive military formations, planning and various schemes to reinstate what is, in everything but name, the Alliance military, under Coalition control. This would benefit the war effort at the cost of offending those who fought for the Coalition during the war and greatly increasing the chance of an Alliance rebellion.
  
  > pass the Act
  You pass the act, which leads to catastrophic consequences. Upon rearment, many Alliance military groups begin rebelling against the Coalition or fleeing for parts unknown due to a general hatred for the Coalition. This greatly damages your reputation with the Coalition and Alliance further, and cripples the war effort. Though the majority of the Alliance falls in line, enough flee to make the act a crippling failure.
  
  > Continue
  Next is the Achilles Act, named after none other than the grand, famous and pretty out of his league military commander that is you. The act involves giving you more power over the Coalition by placing you as what some would call a military dictator, though is referred to in the document as a "philosopher king as described by Plato". Although this position still has several limitations to stop you from becoming a dictator as seen many times before during the the history of the Coalition, Alliance and Humanity, so your power would greatly curtailed, though your power would still be increased and you'd be allowed to get away from the many flaws and issues that arise from the bureaucracy of a government in charge of an empire of such size and magnitude previous empires seem pathetic.
  
  > pass the Act
  You pass the act, which improves the war effort and your control over it, as well as giving you respect among the Garavan for becoming more of a dictator, which they consider as strong and reliable. You're even on good enough relationships with the Scairtt to them not become scared that you're taking more power over the Coalition as a whole.
  
  > Continue
  As you put away your last file, you take a deep breath and decide for a break. It lasts twelve seconds, before an Antimite Attendent walks into your office on four legs, before extending its long tongue, which coils around its translator and begins to flex.
  
  "Esteemed Greetings, Commander. There has been a dispute among the Blessed Priest of Quatros and Great-Iron."
  
  You briefly consider drawing your handgun and killing the Antimite to give yourself a break from dealing with stuff like this. You sigh, nodding.
  
  "Alright. Well, tell Admiral Yarcel to tell the crew to head to Quatros, then."
  
  > Continue
  "I know we're not supposed to say shit like this, but I hate the Chosen." Admiral Yarcel says. "They're fucking creepy, Achilles. What even are they? Are they an organic being fused with a symbiote? A symbiote mind-controlling an organic being? An organic being who happens to be using a symbiote."
  
  "I've had and still have many Chosen friends." Tarn says.
  
  "Really? Were you friends with the parasite goo or the creature wearing the suit?" Yarcel asks.
  
  The Chosen, you agree, are creepy. After being discovered, they were found to be humanoid creatures fused into massive suits to survive and fuse themselves with what is nicknamed the "Goo". They claim the Goo are their Gods, and try to peacefully spread their religion. They spend every minute emerged in the Goo, offering its wondrous advice and love to others. Although every bit of information you have about them shows them to be peaceful and caring people and the Goo to be an intelligent, yet friendly life form helping the organic creature emerged in it, there's just something... off about them.
  
  This thought races through your head as a massive suited creature approaches you.
  
  "Bless you and your quick arrival, General Achilles. Thank you kindly."
  
  "What's the issue, Mr...?"
  
  "Please, I am simply an... WORD UNSTRANSLATABLE... simply a worshipper, though if one wanted to address me, my name would be Ail."
  
  "What's the situation, High Priest,Ail?"
  
  "The Chosen Temples stretch across the defensive lined based behind the colonies, General. We have already provided our services as medics and suppliers towards the war, and many of us have chosen to fight. Still, we refuse to allow our temples to be violated with guns and military barracks. We will not have our freedoms, our..."
  
  A small Mundar Dweller pushes his way past several Chosen, heading towards you.
  
  "General! It's a pleasure to see you. I see you've brought a pretty big ship. While I don't believe in wiping out the Chosen, if you've come to do that I won't complain." He snaps angrily, staring at High Priest Ail."
  
  "Promoting Genocide of a species is a crime." Tarn says, to the Mundar Dwellers annoyance.
  
  "Promoting Genocide? Tarn, go eat out your mother. I take that back, that insult means literally nothing to you." The Mundar takes a deep breath, and composes himself. "My apologies, General. I am Great-Iron, foreman of this site and chairperson of the Coalition Defense Committee. In other words, I'm in charge of building walls to stop the Chykri."
  
  "What's the issue here, Great-Iron?"
  
  "The issue is that the Warm Light, or Allah, or the Great Devourer, or God or Satan or whoever the hell's on our side has made it so that we have massive, heavily fortified bases set up across the front lines that could easily be converted into bases to kill some Chykri and save the universe. So it's pretty goddamn annoying that some pacifist parasite centipede-fucker wants me to allow these temples to stay as temples to some god or goo or whatever the hell it is. Look, if their god wants to wipe out the Chykri, they can keep the temples and I'll convert. If not, they can move the fuck over and let me do my job."
  
  Great-Iron gives High Priest Ail what you assume is either a threatening or obscene gesture, and looks at you.
  
  "Commander? You're going to help me on this, right? You've got my side, right?"
  
  A look of worry flashes over Great-Iron as he realizes you might not be on his side.
  
  "Esteemed General, please. If we abandon our freedom, our religious freedom, our Gods, it doesn't matter whether the Chykri or we win, for evil will triumph. Perhaps the Chykri were once faced with this choice, and the decision they made put them on this rode to emptiness and sadness that led them to where they are." The High Priest begs.
  
  > ask for Tarn and Admiral Yarcel's opinions
  "Tarn, Yarcel. What are your opinions on the matter?"
  
  "Make the forts. It's out of the question not to, Achilles. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I would've turned the temples into bases during the Coalition War, and that war was a pitiful genital measuring contest compared to where we are now."
  
  "Achilles, if I may, to destroy the Chosen's freedom is to set a precedent. That precedent could destroy the Coalition in a way more painful than anything seen before. Imagine if people were forced to fight against their beliefs, forced to abandon their religions for the war effort. We'd destroy freedom for security."
  
  > authorize the construction of bases in the Temples
  "Great-Iron, make the bases. High Priest Ail, I'm sorry, but I won't let my people die."
  
  The Chosen's mechanical eyes fixate on you, and the Chosen work back to their temple wordlessly, though you can see their fury and tell that you've lost their support.
  
  "Thank you, General. I'll make the best defense I can, I swear to you."
  
  The defenses are built, and they're indeed surprisingly effective in the defense of the Coalition.
  
  You've succeeded in upgrading the Coalition's defenses, but at what cost, you wonder.
  
  > Continue
  You hear frenzied cursing, swearing and screaming from outside your office. You stand and walk outside, to see Thar'Kaan rapidly stabbing a cushion, Mast and Delta-1 talk in hushed, frantic voices, Akaid rants in poetic curses, Dante curses as she reads reports, and Yarcel and Cabana begin pouring shots.
  
  "Achilles. Take a drink. No, take several drinks." Cabana says.
  
  "What happened?" You ask.
  
  "Invasion. We thought the Chykri would stop advancing to refuel, regroup and resupply. But they haven't. The Chykri forces were reinforced by almost as many Chykri."
  
  "What does that mean for us?"
  
  "It means there's no counter-attacks, no holding the line, no fucking hope. We retreat, evacuate and regroup."
  
  > Continue
  The recent, crippling assaults on the front-lines are heading inwards, towards massive civilian populations. You have evacuation ships heading towards the population centres, but not enough for a full evacuation. You also have several military ships heading towards the front lines for a massive evacuation of both the soldiers and the supplies, vehicles and weapons. You could continue with this method, allowing for the max amount of essential components to be recovered, increasing your chances of successfully repelling the Chykri in the future. You could also abandon the recovery of military supplies, vehicles and weapons and only recover troops. Finally, the most radical plan, you could abandon your troops, supplies, vehicles and weapons at the front lines in the hopes they'll weaken the Chykri, as well as allowing you to fully evacuate the colonies.
  
  > keep with the Standard Plan
  You decide that the military can save many, many more lives in the long run. Although there are massive civilian casualties, it's for the greater good. You pull back your forces to the most valuable line of defense: The Throne of Gods. From there, you will wipe out the Chykri or have your Grand Coalition burn.
  
  > Continue
  SB-01776454934 marches forward. The Colonies are dead. He's surrounded by bodies and burning wreckages.
  
  The voice screams again, but he's surrounded by the dead. There is nothing else to kill.
  
  He begins marching forward. He looks up at the sky, seeing God move slowly forward towards the sky.
  
  He continues walking, towards God's home.
  
  > The Throne of Gods
  The Throne of Gods is the true founding place of the Coalition. The massive circle of Artifact Worlds, all incredibly valuable to the Coalition. These are worlds that once held the massive, technologically advanced cities used by the aliens known as the Ancients. Though they are gone, their technology formed the Coalition, leading to FTL Travel, incredibly powerful weapons and other technological advancements. If these were to fall into Chykri hands, you have no idea what could happen. Still, these areas hold massive military bases and Ancient technology that could fuel the defense of the Coalition. If the Throne of the Gods is conquered, that leaves the rest of the Coalition upon to conquest. The home worlds of the various species, the various Civilian Fleets, the most developed colonies, all left defenseless. This is where you make your stand.
  
  > Continue
  "A FUCKING GREASE PUDDLE!?!" You scream, punching a metal wall.
  
  Commissar Mast, one of the best Commanders you have, is dead. Not from a Chykri Assassination, or a terrorist attack, or even suicide at the brutal losses you've taken. He slipped in a grease puddle, and broke his neck.
  
  "Are you fucking serious, Cabana? There's fucking Chykri at the door, and Mast slips in a goddamn puddle!"
  
  Cabana nods, deadly serious. You attempt to calm down, lighting a cigar.
  
  "Life's getting fucking shitty, Cabana. We're taking heavy losses, Mast's dead, and you're so depressed you haven't made a joke despite the recently hired Councilo