Quoted By:
You decide to <span class="mu-i"><span class="mu-s">commemorate</span></span> this memory. You create an official holiday for the Hegemony- <span class="mu-i">Victory Day</span>- a day to celebrate the Hegemony's victory over its enemies. The three genocided alien species- not to mention the countless cultures and individuals swept away, are cataloged and gene-sampled, collected, stored for potential use in the future in the gene and science programs. Nothing will go to waste.
And now- all over the Hegemony- new planets exist for colonization. The people who have lived most of their lives on cramped space stations and uncomfortable moon and asteroid bases can finally get out and stretch their legs. But with the mask of the unspeakable still on your face- there is no relief. The Jaxtian people are scared stiff. All over the Hegemony- perfect unflinching obedience continues. It has drained you to see people act this way around you- to see how much power you have constantly with no individuality or freedom of thought and action.
For these past fifteen years, everyone in the Hegemony has obeyed and been forced into one straight, narrow conception. All Alpha Males are Soldiers. All women are broodmothers, and all others work in science or administration to forward the agendas of the Supreme's will. Science continued unabated, but with so much alien technology to unravel, both from the Threemind systems to the Life Machine, it will take a little more time to fully comprehend it.
Finally, mercifully, an announcement is made. It is the smallest change possible; a single new color allowed for uniforms from the gray monotone that has dominated your people's lives for the past decade and a half. Just a tiny shift in hue. This, and this alone, sends a breath of relief throughout the entire Hegemony. Times are finally changing, the pressure has been released, they know things will go back to how they were; more comfort, more relaxation, no more mask to haunt their nightmares. As communities and administrations meet their goals, more privileges, both physical and ideological, will slowly flow back into the rigor-mortis'd body of the Jaxtian people. The time for watering the tree with blood is over; the people remember their obedience again.
