Alignment, not Allegiance
31 Dec 2024Rawnu
For weeks now, I’ve wrestled with the aftermath of Cocijo’s fall. The war with the Thargoids has left the galaxy fractured and fragile. Sol is still reeling, its orbits and communications clogged with Titan debris. Billions remain displaced. Victory? It feels stranger the longer the Battle of Sol fades into memory. We fought Cocijo—and all the Titans—with fire and fury, but we never asked why. What did it mean for them? What does it mean for us?It’s not just the war that troubles me. It’s what comes after. The Empire and Federation have already begun circling the ruins of this conflict like vultures, fighting over systems as if the Thargoids were never here. And then there are the Corps, of course. Sirius Corporation, in particular, is tightening its grip on the Alliance, threatening to replace democracy with profit margins. Bubble politics was never pretty, but at this moment, it looks insanely stupid—and dangerous. There’s a looming shadow out in the void, and instead of getting our act together for once, we humans start up our territorial conflicts again.
I wanted to stay out of it, to focus on research and exploration again. Delving deeper into the signals emanating from the Titan graveyards, investigating potential connections between the Thargoids, the lost Guardian AI, and humanity's role in the broader galactic ecosystem. But everything in the Bubble seems to be going crazy after the war. And I can’t ignore the question any longer: where do I stand?
It’s a strange thing for someone like me to consider. I’ve avoided factional loyalty for most of my career, wary of the chains it can bring. But the problem is this: if you stand aside, you’ve still chosen a side—the side of those you don’t want to win. The political battle for Sol is not mine. Federation against Empire, Archer—of all people!—against Aisling Duval, is not my fight. Earth is my home; the Federation isn’t. My politics are rooted in decentralized, community-driven governance, with a strong focus on people’s needs and ecological stewardship. Both the Feds and Imps are the antithesis of that. And Corpos? Screw them, because they screw everyone else.
This leaves one power and one player on the table for me: Nakato Kaine. Her vision of the Alliance—my adopted home for some of the best years of my life, and the childhood place of my father—resonates with everything I believe in: independence, decentralization, and the right of every system to chart its own course.
But it’s not just Kaine’s ideals that draw me. It’s the urgency of this moment. If the Alliance falls to corporate greed—to the machinations of Sirius Corporation and others—it becomes another Federation: a machine that values credits over lives. And if that happens, humanity loses one of its last bastions of diversity, a model for how we might resist the centralized systems that have failed us time and again. Supporting Kaine means standing up for the galaxy I want to see—a galaxy that values cooperation over conquest, freedom over control.
This doesn’t feel like allegiance. It feels like alignment—a way to act on my values without losing myself. Kaine’s fight is one I can believe in, one that intersects with all my other goals: rebuilding the Bubble after the war, exploring the mysteries of the void, and challenging the narratives that trap us in endless cycles of conflict.
So, I’ve made my choice. I’ll stand with Nakato Kaine—not as a soldier or a servant, but as an ally. Her fight is my fight, for now. And if the day comes when her path diverges from mine, I’ll know I stood for what mattered, when it mattered most. The stars still call me back, the mysteries of the Titans and the Thargoids still lingering on the edges of my mind. But for now, I’ll stay a while longer. There’s work to be done here. Humanity needs voices that question, that resist, that remind us what we’re fighting for.