Chapter Eighteen: A Speed Highway to Galaxy Andromeda

They were all being left out in the dark, as the Chancellor of the Constitution alights from his Upper House Space Ship, to a very secret place, just 30 nautical miles from the western frontier of the Planetary Cooperation at-Large, which the Home Authority vaguely identifies as a hideout of lawless bandits, also known as the Space Pirates.

But the honorable Chancellor was not here in his official capacity, nor this is an official operation to enforce the law, or to arrest anybody who are notorious in disturbing the peace, those armed robbers who are known for looting goods from in and out of the Planetary Co-Op's boundaries, including its unguarded galactic borders. No, it was not an official duty. Obviously from the very beginning, it is not.

The Chancellor is here because he is a part of a conspiracy that aims to outmaneuver everybody else's interests, mainly as a revenge to avenge a loss, from that moment a long time ago, which were never apologized for. All of them, those who fought the wars that a million or more people have suffered for, has been enlightened about the cruelty of war, not to repeat the pain of their losses, no, but to win again, like a mighty hand that topples down the arrogant misdemeanors of the handful few.

This separatist movement has been known as the Project XYZ in the past, a stronghold of the many armed movements, which was later on defeated, as well as the many others, including the most capable Space Rangers meeting their unfortunate demise, that has eventually captured the perfect reel of a humiliating defeat.

But things got lucky when the Minority Government was able to access a very powerful weapon, which they only know at that time as the Physical Clock. They used it to their advantage, as for the first time, and that's when things suddenly became very interesting. The time suddenly turned back, with all the memories of the past being played in the background, as the many scenes become trapped into the film of a reel, being stored as a form of archives. It was the Dark Angel who gave them this clock, a weapon that transcends the boundaries of space and time. A powerful one, but solely dangerous and addicting.

Things also became the exact opposite, with the world of Fantasy being subdued as the weaker race, when they have ruled the voidness of Space for so long (and very responsibly) from the energy of the imagination that fuels the world. And the politicians who once formed part of this world has overtaken the fantasy creatures to become the most savage race to ever existed, in whatever form or substance it takes.

They were once called the Minority Office of the Galactic Ministry at that time, but they are now existing apart from this artificial story; they have become the continuation of the reality where they were cruelly defeated. The rebellion must continue against the world of Fantasy, whether in this world and in the reality of the experiences to come.

Anyone in this world will have no further access to the Lore of Commons, which is the gateway to that reality that they are desperately trying to dissolve. Fantasy cannot simply discover the triumph of their races, and to allow them to know that they have been fooled by subsequent space authorities, all these long and arduous years.

Nobody will discover this secret. Not yet. Not until they have reached the Andromeda Galaxy. Not until they have discovered a way to penetrate the Milky Way. And then the Galactic Siege will begin.

The Dark Angel has figured it all out.

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