A Traveller's Stories - Ring of the Angel (0 BBT)



  • 15th of March, 0 BBT
  • Confluence of Empires, Terragen Space
  • United Polities of Rheldann
  • Khulvreijna Star System


The Rheldann Banks Orbital, seen from a distance.



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Khulvreijna was a highly metallic G0V yellow dwarf, originally surrounded by a relatively small planetary system. The system was colonized in the 6200s BBT by the Terragen Class-3 HyperAI Dream With Me as part of the Coempireal Expansion, who wished to create a new center of urbanized civilization by building a Banks Orbital. Now, in the modern day this might not seem so impressive: after all, such structures are relatively common throughout the Confluence. However, back in those days, solid megastructures of that size could be counted on the hand of a baseline human. Therefore Dream With Me’s endeavor was considerable, but thanks to appropriate system selection and careful planning, the HyperAI facilitated the task considerably.

Arriving in the system on its retooled relativistic MoonBrain after some decades of interstellar travel, the Angel began to seed the system’s asteroid belts and inner metallic planets with self-replicating neumann probes, designed to automatically build a toroidal dyson swarm around Khulvreijna, with little oversight from Dream. At the same time in orbit of Erosthat, the system’s main gas giant, the HyperAI struck one of its major moons with multiple carefully placed relativistic rods made out of magmatter and diamondoid: these objects hit the small moon with such strength and precision that its mass collapsed in onto itself, turning into an artificial black hole.

Using force manipulation technology multiple anti-gravity funnels were created in the gas giant’s atmosphere that, intersecting with the black hole’s orbit in a curve, would lift up the gases and create a highly-energetic accretion disk around the singularity: through oversight from Dream and a couple of specialized magmatter devices, a Monosynthetic Forge was born. Thanks to the extremely energetic environment of the small accretion disk, artificial nucleosynthesis could take place, thus converting part of the gas giant’s hydrogen and helium into heavier elements useful for manufacture and construction, while the rest slowly fell into the black hole in decaying orbits, growing its mass and increasing the energy of its disk.





Additionally, a belt of Conversion Furnaces was built in orbit around the planet, which fed both on the materials extracted from the planet and those synthesized by the Forge: hydrogen and helium were used as fuel for the Furnaces, while part of the elements with an atomic mass equal to or greater than iron were fed inside the main reactor chamber of the furnaces and converted into magmatter through a two-stage process consisting of monopole catalyzed fusion followed by beam core inversion. Materials with masses between helium and iron were instead collected separately, and put together with those produced by the Forge.

The manufactured magmatter was sent in direct orbit of the star, at around 1.3 Astronomical Units, where swarms of specialized drones and projected gravity fields gradually assembled it into the shape of a gridded ring five million kilometers in diameter and 4000 in width: this would act as the Banks Orbital’s support structure, as regular matter would not be able to withstand the rotational energy needed for a day/night cycle and appropriate gravity on the inner surface without using very powerful energy fields on the whole structure. While possible even six millennia ago, said structural fields would have required a considerable portion of the energy collected by Khulvreijna’s dyson swarm, which Dream wanted to allocate to other projects, and would have gone against the Angel’s desire to create a passively stable megastructure.

All the matter that wasn’t used in the Conversion Furnaces was instead directed to industrial nanofabricators in orbit of the magmatter support ring, where they were reassembled into construction materials and structural modules. In the same way as the support structure, these materials were used to build the actual Orbital: in just some decades, the magmatter mesh was covered by vast plates of diamondoid and other alloys, on the inner surface of which geographic features of all shapes and sizes rose out of glittering banks of self-replicating utility fog. Next, vast quantities of water filled out oceans, lakes and rivers, while a breathable atmosphere was introduced, a reproduction of Old Earth’s atmospheric conditions that had become the standard for most of Terragen Space. And finally, rotational energy was gradually imprinted onto the megastructure using arrays of powerful thrusters and force field projectorson the outer surface, speeding up the Orbital until the interior surface experienced 9.81 meters per second of gravitational acceleration.

Now that the ring’s base structure was finally completed, it was time to add a proper biosphere and sophonts to the equation: Dream had publicly streamed the construction’s progress to the entirety of the Confluence, attracting plenty of attention from multiple groups of modosophonts and HyperAIs, both Terragen and other. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to build and design their own new environment and society, many independent groups of colonists arrived in the system even before the megastructure’s completion, stationing themselves in orbit of the star with Dream’s permission as the owner of the star system.

As soon as the sophonts began inhabiting the Orbital, they began to design and create their own environments: intricate and balanced ecologies quickly populated the vast continents and the surrounding waters, while glittering cities rose through the clouds and under the oceans, populated by all kinds of Terragen species and other xenosophont clades. Separate cyberdemocratic polities and associations developed on the ring, with Dream With Me only providing resources to the groups and maintaining their politics and economies stable: after some time, these various polities officially formed a federation aptly known as the United Polities of Rheldann, the Banks Orbital’s new name. The fame of Dream’s project grew a lot throughout the wider Confluence, so much so that Nixhoeils, back then a Class-4 HyperAI and Coempireal Prince, gifted the system a connection to the Wormwork. Tourism and trade exploded for the United Polities, who also saw a sharp increase in immigration from non-Terragen that wished to experience this wide array of Terragen cultures all concentrated into a single megastructure.






In the six millennia hence, despite its fame decreasing considerably from its first centuries of existence, Rheldann has become one of the largest systems of the Middle Regions aside from the Regional Capitals: in the modern era the system possesses multiple wormhole connections and has a population of 916 billion embodied sophonts belonging to many different clades, and more than 7 trillion virtuals that reside in its vast computronium substrates. Dream With Me has also grown along with its creation, turning the dyson swarm’s collector elements into magmatter processors and ascending to the 4th class of hypersapience, thus becoming a Coempireal Prince.

The United Polities of Rheldann, though they were already in the path to become as such many millennia ago, are a highly diverse cyberdemocratic federation of post-scarcity independent polities and HyperAIs: its main constituent clades and cultures are of primarily Terragen ancestry, but considerable overlap with other alien cultures has developed in many of its polities.

Rheldann, as a Banks Orbital, alternates between highly urbanized and densely-inhabited cities, and sparse regions mainly left to their “natural” state. Most settlements are built either on the surface of the continents or underwater, although multiple aerostatic cities move around the ring. Public transportation to and from different settlements and areas of the Orbital is achieved through subterranean or above-ground vacuum trains, which have multiple stations raised high above the surface to connect with the passing aerostatic cities. Transport within the settlements themselves is achieved through a wide variety of means, such as slidewalks, riverroads, maglev trains, bubblepods, submarines, ships, aircars, wingpacks, powerstilts and many others.



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A plate-shaped HabShip approaching the Orbital.



Following the signing of the open tourism and migration pacts between the Republic of United Worlds and the Confluence, the HabShip No Man Is An Island, But I Am had decided to tour around the Republic to pick up any willing passengers and bring them back to the Confluence, so that they could tour around the vast metacivilization. After some previous stops, its next destination was the Khulvreijna Star System, home to the renowned Rheldann Banks Orbital and a major centre of Terragen and Coempireal civilization.

On one of the beaches of the plate-shaped island resort, a relatively unassuming human man was sleeping carelessly on a beach chair, under the golden rays of the HabShip’s fusion microsun. He was of slightly below-average height, and had dark curly hair with a slightly tanned complexion: when embarking on the cruise he had hoped to be able to tan more, but the resort’s staff informed him that the microsun did not emit UV-radiation.

Suddenly, the sand besides him began to rise, reorganizing itself in the approximate shape of a floating tetrahedron. An appendage emerged out of one of its faces, and extended itself to gently tap on the man’s arm: it was the HabShip itself.

“Excuse me for bothering you sir, but we are about to reach your selected destination. Tracking procedures will commence in about thirty minutes.”

Startled by the unexpected interaction, Morgan “Starkiller”, the best pilot the Republic of United Worlds had ever seen, woke up.

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Morgan woke up, puzzled at first. Getting used to the Confluence’s… uniqueness was going to take some time. He got up and stretched. He must have been asleep for a few hours. According to a travel guide he found, United Polities of Rheldann were to be his first destination. A Terran populated area, it would be just like a home away from home. Something familiar to get started with.

The cirmustances of his sudden vacation were quite interesting. He was “convinced” by his commanders to go on them when the HabShip arrived in the Republic. He planned to visit the Confluence one day anyways, but this behemoth of a ship was a lot more convenient than his plane. This mandatory leave was most likely done so he wouldn’t fuck up a major operation wity his spontainious raids.

Over the ten years of his military service he has gained a reputation as an independent spirit, unruly and overconfident. He never followed the plan and often went on week long, solo raids deep into enemy territory. Despite being a bomber pilot, he was more effective than many fighter pilots and already earned the title of an Ace of Aces. Officially his commanders condemed these escapades and punished him every time, but it was mostly out of principle. They liked that he was able to keep up pressure on Republic’s enemies and serve as a sort of “wildcard”. Even if the enemy was aware of the entire plan, there was no way they would know what he was up to. The only thing that really annoyed them were his constant romantic affairs, sometimes with senior military staff or government officials.

He went to the hangar where his plane was. A true marvel of technology, it was the best plane in the Republic, a modified bomber from the times of the Rebellion turned into a multi-role beast. Unfortunately toi expensive for mass production. It was 20 meters in length, 6.5 meters in height and 12 meters in width. It was matt silver in color with decals of a star pierced by a sword on the wings and body, as well as a roundel of the Commando Airforce on the tail. It was equipped with several sets of guns, both front and back, a wide range of missles for taking out other planes, ships or ground targets, laser turrets and swarms of nanites that messed with opponents navigation and targeting. It also had highest quality shields, armor, thrusters and an FTL drive, something unseen in most Republic vessels of this size.

He climbed up on the wing and got into the cocpit. He put on his grey flight jumpsuit and helmet. He checked for his baggage, pistol and knife, a memorial from his brief service in the ground forces during the early days of the Rebellion before he switched to the airforce. They were all there, nobody stole them. After performing the last checks on his aircraft, he took off, heading for the Orbital.

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Morgan’s plane pierced the HabShip’s atmosphere spheroid, passing by the vessel’s glowing microsun. Heading towards the megastructure, only now did he realize how big it actually was: if the 15 kilometers long HabShip was a behemoth, then Morgan really didn’t have the words to describe how mind-bogglingly vast Rheldann was. Thank the stars he didn’t have megalophobia.

While he accelerated towards the ring, his plane received an incoming transmission: some sort of automated guidance system, it seemed, hailing him from Rheldann’s primary spaceport. Morgan accepted the transmission: he could get there on his own without any issue, but it was best not to go against protocol before even setting foot on the strange world.



THIS IS A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTOMATED GUIDANCE SYSTEM OF RHELDANN’S PRIMARY SPACEPORT. PILOT MORGAN OF THE REPUBLIC OF UNITED WORLDS, PLEASE FOLLOW THE HIGHLIGHTED PATH TO THE DESIGNATED TRACKING PORT. IF YOU DEEM IT NECESSARY, A SHEPHERD DRONE CAN BE DISPATCHED TO TOW YOUR SHIP TO THE SELECTED DESTINATION.

WELCOME TO RHELDANN. ENJOY YOUR STAY! :]



Morgan, ever reluctant to obey orders, begrudgingly followed the trajectory now displayed on the plane’s screens, but incontrovertibly refused to be “shepherded” by any other pilot or droid. He may have been in foreign territory, but he would never let anyone treat him like a sheep .

After some minutes of travel, the primary spaceport was finally in view, an admittedly wondrous structure: most of it developed out of the uppermost half of a large spoke that protruded for thousands and thousands of kilometers from one of the Orbital’s atmosphere retention rimwalls. Tracking stations of all sizes could be seen dotting many fractally arranged branching structures protruding from the massive spoke, with swarms of ships coming to and away from them like bees around a flower, all coordinated by the same central guide that had just contacted Morgan’s ship. Rings of tiny lights dotted the side of the spoke submerged in the darkness: it was hard to imagine how many floors the spaceport must have had, even if they were extremely high, and how long the descent to the surface must have been.

The outlines of a very large tracking port’s entrance, practically perfect for the size of the plane, lit up on the screens in front of him. The exterior gravity levels suddenly spiked as he entered the threshold of the structure, where the docks’ projected gravity fields also began: as was standard for many spaceports across the Confluence, these were programmed to make landings and takeoffs easier by gently pulling down ships or giving them extra propulsion during their departure.

Without even noticing the automated assist Morgan masterfully landed his plane in the port, admist massive HabShips and even a couple of what he’d recognize later as military warships. After turning off the engines and gathering his belongings, the pilot got off of his beloved plane and started making his way to the spaceport’s central hub, following illuminated signs suspended in the air or appearing over the walls. Around him large crowds of people moved around, going towards the hub like he was, or to the HabShips they planned to embark on: it would be an understatement to say he had badly assumed what “Terran” or “Terrakin” meant in the Confluence. A dog and a large snake, both floating on glittering clouds and dressed with flowy clothes surpassed him while cheerfully conversing; a very tall “human” woman quickly passed besides him, her skin glowing with the moving patterns and colors of an aurora borealis and her chest illuminated with some strange purple orb; a small group of dolphins, each vastly different from the other, clicked in rapid sequence as they talked to one another abour visiting a new art exposition; an antopomorphic cat dressed in elegant cheeta print (that seemed distasteful) jokingly cackled as she exchanged jokes with some weird humanoid that had a large floating star where their head should have been; two short hexapodal robots exchanged data about a newly developed virtual world in a nearby star cluster through a “high five”; and to top it all off a tree strolled besides him, while they browsed information about some relatively obscure polity located on the other side of the Confluence. The few “normal”-looking humans he saw were of slight comfort to Morgan.





Of course, Morgan wasn’t actually unsettled or unable to withstand such (to use his own words)… uniqueness. The unexpected display was just overwhelming, and a lot to take in all at once: not even the biggest metropolises of the Republic, great melting pots of species and cultures as they were, sported such diversity, and the fact that Morgan hailed from the Capitol, a planet still mostly populated by humans, definitely didn’t aid him in this. Getting used to the Confluence would take longer than he expected.

Walking amidst the flowing masses, Morgan eventually reached the central hub. Consistent with the rest of the spaceport, the room must have been almost a kilometer high: enormous windows overlooked the glowing blue-green arch that Rheldann drew in the skies, while sophonts moved in droves to and from restaurants, entertainment centers, shops and info panels of all kinds. In the center of the room rose dozens of pillars arranged in a circle, that extended all the way to the very ceiling. They were the spaceport’s public elevators, large pods carrying hundreds of people each between the surface and the spaceport’s many floors.

Before going down towards the surface though, Morgan thought it would be best to rest for a moment and freshen up. He hadn’t eaten anything in hours, so maybe getting some food wouldn’t have been a bad idea: before going away on this vacation, he had jokingly asked one of his superiors if he would have had to eat lots of weird alien food, but they actually reassured him with all seriousness that practically all dishes and variations of Terran food were readily available all throughout the Confluence. Furthermore, after the cultural databases were organized and exchanged, many foods native to the Republic were being added to menus all throughout the ancient civilization.

He picked up something quick to eat from one of the nanofabricators close to him, and sat down on one of the large puffy couches in a common sitting area. Suddenly, someone sitting on a large cushion close to him called for his attention. It was a large golden octopus, their skin decorated with neon blue cybernetic tattoos Morgan had seen in a fashion forum a couple of days prior.

”Sorry to bother you, but you must be from the Republic, right? I haven’t seen someone so amazed and confused at the same time ever since I saw a Drakari visit the HabShip I was one some 700 years ago. What made you decide to visit, if I can ask?”

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The Confluence brought one story to his mind. Once, when he was at a bar with his Commando friends, Morgan decided to beat them in a drinking game. Despite them being literal super soldiers, he still decided he could do it. Ten shots of Botniak black vodka later, he was too drunk to stand up. He then took at least three different drugs of questionable legality. The hallucinations that followed were oddly similar to some of the creatures he saw at the space port. And he thought the Oblex were weird. At least he will have a head start in making jokes.

He turned to the octopus, trying to make a natural face. Thankfully his sunglasses hid his eyes that were jumping from place to place, trying to take in all the crazy things around him. “Well, the high command got tired of all my bullshit and got me ‘mandatory leave’.” He said while making airquotes with his hands. “And they decided to throw me as far away as possible.” He then realised something. “Did you just say 700 years?!”

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The octopus was slightly taken aback for a moment, fearing that he might have said something wrong to Morgan: however, he quickly realized what the situation was, and calmed back down.

”Oh, forgive me. This must not be something possible within the Republic. Yes, I did say 700 years: I was born 1120 years ago. Here in the Confluence, lifespans can be freely extended indefinitely through nanorobotic medisystems and genetically engineered augmentations, and practically all non-baseline species have natural lifespans lasting centuries. And that’s not even considering mind uploading…”

The golden octopus thought to himself for a brief moment, then returned back to conversation, changing the subject. It was as if something had told him that maybe dumping more information than that to someone that was already overwhelmed wouldn’t be the best of ideas.

”Anyways, high command, uh? Oh wait, you do look quite familiar to me! You’re Morgan “the Starkiller”, right? I recall hearing about you on a piloting forum I was on recently. You know, you’re growing quite a reputation here in the Confluence. Your maneuvers and endeavors were really impressive, even more so for a baseline. And my admiration does have credibility, considering I’m a pilot myself. My name is Khalir, by the way.”

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“Nice to meet you Khalir. I guess it was only a matter of time before my fame reached this place too. And if you ever find a pilot with mods, tell me. Only ground troops get those.” Morgan said, as if he was stating something obvious. “We definately don’t live up to a thousand. And honestly, I wouldn’t want to. According to some it gets boring after fifty.”

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”Do you really think it ever would, in a place like this? There are so many different people to meet, and so many different things to do. None of us have to work if we don’t want to, so we can truly spend our long existence pursuing our desires and fullfillment. And again, that’s not even considering virtual reality, where most of the Confluence lives after all.”

Khalir thought for another short moment, shorter than the previous one.

”You know, instead of just trusting my word, you should probably go and see it for yourself. Now that you’re on Rheldann, do you have any plans or specific places to visit, or were you planning on just winging it? If the latter is the case, then I could give you some recommendations on what to do while you’re here on Rheldann. I’ve spent a lot of time on the ring, and have many friends all around it who would love to show you around.”

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“I’ve got a travel guide, but I plan on mostly winging it. The most interesting places don’t feature in these sort of guides, you have fond the by yourself. Go off of the vibes. Or ask the locals, that usually works too. Unless they try to rob you. Most stay away from a Commando, but you never know.”

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”Oh trust me, you won’t encounter that problem here: material theft doesn’t really happen in the Confluence. And nobody will stay away from you out of intimidation either: threats of physical violence are void here, since you can’t physically harm anyone…”

Khalir thought for a moment, and realized that Morgan was truly out of his element here. As far as he could tell, he didn’t have a neural interfacer, not even an etiquette regulator! At least he had an universal translator of some kind, but he was still way too underprepared to travel throughout Rheldann, much less the non-Terrakin worlds and habitats of the Confluence.

Not wanting this overconfident baseline to be shunned, Khalir intervened accordingly.

”Listen Morgan, I’d hate to assume wrongly, but just to be sure… did you get a neural interfacer or etiquette regulator before arriving here on Rheldann? Because if not, you need to get them as soon as possible.”

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“We already have neural interfaces in the Republic. We ain’t that backwards.” Morgan said, while holding his left hand up. From under his sleeve Khalir could see a sleek metal bracelet. “And I don’t even know what an etiquette regulator is. It ain’t so complicated to have a whole gadget for it. It’s pretty easy to follow if you aren’t a total dick.” Despite Morgan’s reputation as a playboy and a “cool guy”, he was an overall good person, helping people in need and adhering to a moral code (not stealing other’s girlfriends, etc.).

The whole thing with Rheldann giving out free tech was pretty weird. Neural interfaces were relatively cheap, but not free. The only thing the Republic gives you is a tourist advisory map detealing active conflict zones and areas with high degrees of organized crime.

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”It’s not about just not being a “dick”, Morgan. Listen, the cultures of the Confluence are innumerable both in numbers and diversity. Some sophonts, clades, and even entire societies can be extremely exotic compared to what you or even I are used to, so their cultures follow suit. What we may consider perfectly innocuous they might see as an horrendous affront. Etiquette regulators are a mediatory tool used when two or more people of vastly different mode of existence, physiology and culture wish to interact without accidentally offending eachother. So that’s why you’ll be needing one. I don’t know if you’re planning to interact with the most unusual parts of this civilization, but even here on the mostly Terrakin and relatively mild Rheldann the diversity can be considerable.”

”You’re free to not follow my advice, but seriously, you should get one now. You can try installing a regulator app on your interface, or if that doesn’t work go get an external regulator from one of the distributors here in the spaceport: there are multiple versions that look like jewellery, or simpler ones that resemble your bracelet.”

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“Eh, I’ll think about it.” Morgan answered nonshalantly. “It was nice to meet you Khalir, but I’ll get going now. There is still a lot to see here.” Morgan said while getting up. “Maybe you will visit the Republic one day.”

Morgan walked to the exit from the spaceport, wondering if Botniak alcohol already made its way here. It is probably too strong to really catch on in a place like this, but you never know.

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