Excerpt from Visitors to NeoAfrica.

CARVER PLANETWIDE BROADCASTHONORABLE PRESIDENT AHMADOU FARARDATE: JULY 17, 3524 POST EXODUSMy fellow citizens of Carver. A new era begins. An old one will soon be washed away, bringing forth a glorious revival of NeoAfrican civilization. For too long, corruption, vice, mediocrity and incompetence has clouded the vision that our esteemed founders possessed when they first settled this sector. So clouded had that vision become that over the centuries we lost our way, misdirected by flawed ideologies, tripped up by failed policies, hobbled by indiscipline. And then came the NeoAfrican Federation, the very embodiment of our failures even as it claims to be the height of our civilization.The Federation was a twisted charlatan leading us further and faster down a path that the NeoAfrican people have been treading for so many years: the path to irrelevance, the path to impotence, the path to our complete and total collapse! The Holistic Renewal party alone, rose to the challenge of arresting the decline of our civilization. For our efforts we were persecuted, ridiculed, even killed, but never, never silenced.Now, we have allies, powerful allies who hail from another part of the galaxy; allies whose goals are similar to our own. The Unity Expedition seeks to restore the dignity and worth that the human race lost as a result of war and all of its associated ills.I ask you my fellow citizens, my compatriots, my bothers and sisters. I ask you to help us do our part to bring restoration to the NeoAfrican branch of the human race. I ask you to support the Holistic Renewal Party as we spearhead efforts, in concert with our Unity friends, to purge Carver of those who oppose progress. Holistic Renewal has no interest or agenda other than saving the NeoAfrican people from destruction. Those who support that agenda are our friends, those who do not are our sworn enemies. Those in middle. I ask you…beg you to make a choice, because the fight for the NeoAfrican soul has begun. Make a choice. Make the right choice.Twenty six hours after that broadcast was beamed across the planet Carver, insurgent attacks intensified. An in-atmosphere troop jet was downed by a rebel surface to air missile. Three hundred and fifty Unity soldiers were on board. Three hundred and six survived when the smoke-trailing jet careened into a dark, forested no-man’s-land. Three hundred and one were tracked down and slaughtered by insurgents. The remaining five soldiers survived their horrific ordeal long enough to be picked up by a Unity rescue craft.Across an inland sea, five thousand miles from where the Unity jet was shot down, the mayor of the third largest city on Carver was blown to fragments by an explosive device. The device had been planted beneath the podium he was using to address a crowd of supporters outside the city administration building. Fifty nine of those supporters perished in the blast.The mayor was hardcore Holistic Renewal, a zealot who held Farar in the highest regard. To his assassins, Farar was the lowest form of life, a feckless collaborator consorting with white-skinned butchers.Violence erupted in another major Carverite city, Gana. Most of it was spontaneous. Rioters surged through Gana’s streets wreaking havoc. Houses and businesses owned by actual or perceived collaborators went up in flames. Holistic Renewal banners were ripped from walls and light posts and HR party members were paraded and humiliated in the public square. Armed insurgents traded weapons fire with HR-controlled paramilitaries that flared into vicious street battles. Other insurgents launched daring raids against Unity garrison posts throughout the city.Ahmadou Farar studied the updates scrolling across the status screen hanging above his desk. The enemies of progress, reactionaries, corrupted keepers of a decadent order. He had a host of names for those who opposed his rule, his vision. Farar took a deep breath, deciding to reroute his growing anger into meaningful action. Of all the attacks launched by terrorists across the planet, the terror-inspired disorder wracking Gana was the most unacceptable.Farar had proven very ruthless in his dealings with reactionaries. Over a thousand terrorists and their families were rounded up and executed in the wake of that mayor’s assassination. The name of that poor soul escaped Farar’s recollection, but the man’s deeds as supporter and implementer of Holistic Renewal doctrine would live on in NeoAfrican memory.When Farar’s agents uncovered a plot against his own life seven days ago, that initiated an even bloodier response. How many criminals died in the process of uncovering the many nefarious layers that obscured a massive conspiracy? How many more died when that conspiracy was laid bare for all righteous-minded citizens to behold? Enough to discourage further plots? Farar hoped, but doubt frayed his optimism.The enemies of progress were persistent. Farar had to be more persistent, more focused, more determined if he was to succeed in crushing them once and for all. There were numerous other plots and attacks and related episodes of violence, but nothing approaching the magnitude of dissidence afflicting the city of Gana.“Mr. President,” the voice of his secretary shimmered through his desk speaker. “You have visitors, sir.”Farar knew who those visitors were from the secretary’s subdued tone. He turned off the status screen and leaned back in his chair. “Send them in.”Farar’s office formerly belonged to the governor of Carver. It was large, with a vast window overlooking Annan’s impressive skyline. The previous occupant had all sorts of personal and official mementos adorning the walls and shelf space. Every item of sentiment and reverence from family pictures to historical artwork to Federation memorabilia. Farar disposed of it all…just as easily as he had disposed of the pleading, blubbering ex-governor. Farar’s office was not an office. It was a war room. He allowed no visual frivolities to distract from its purpose.The visitors entered Farar’s ‘war room.’ John, who continued to wear a cowl though his meetings with Farar were no longer in the shadows. He was accompanied by the petulant drop marine commander, Jaffers.“You seem to be losing control of the situation, Administrator,” said Jaffers, bypassing every pleasantry in the book.Farar bristled at being addressed by his old title. He leaned forward placing both hands on his desk and pinned the marine with a cutting glare. “You seem to have lost control of your tone, Commander.”“My apologies on the commander’s behalf, President Farar,” John intervened with syrupy grace. “He is merely concerned, as am I. I cannot impress upon you enough the importance of stabilizing this planet. We will be unable to fully commit to our other operations if your government is hobbled by resistance.”“My government is not hobbled,” Farar snapped, rising to his feet. “Certainly a level of resistance is to be expected in the initial stage of a revolution. Opponents of the new order are fighting tooth and nail not to be discarded onto the dung heap of history.”“Beautifully phrased, Mr. President,” Jaffers growled with contempt-peppered sarcasm. “But Unity soldiers are dying in the process.”“Carver soldiers are dying as well. Good Carver citizens are dying.” Farar thrust a finger at John. “You have limited my capability. I do not have the fighter craft at my disposal to strike insurgent positions from the air nor do I control the orbital facilities to hit them from space. If you want most of your forces freed up to help subdue the Federation then I must have air/space power.”“NeoAfrican fighters are of inferior quality,” Jaffers judged, barely concealing a sneer. “Unity fighters are better equipped to deal with these bandits. They have superior stealth, more advanced detection capabilities and…”“Over a hundred of your better equipped fighters were shot down over the Eastern Archipelago alone,” Farar interjected with a mix of disdain and exasperation. He fixed his attention on John, pointedly ignoring the drop marine commander. “I need my fighters and I need orbital support from my own ships. You need all the help you can get. Allow me to help you.”John shifted his gaze to the floor, caressing the dangling sleeve of his cowl. Finally, he looked up, his decision made. “I will talk to Admiral McCray about activating ten squadrons. As for orbital support, we will continue to provide that for you.”Farar was not satisfied and he made no effort to hide it. Ten squadrons of Carverite fighters were insufficient to the task of quelling a rebellion. Being denied the use of his warships was no less galling.It was never about the quality of NeoAfrican technology, however. Farar was savvy enough to realize that. It was about control. Admiral McCray fancied Farar a puppet with John in the role of puppet master. Not allowing Farar the full use of his military resources served to remind the self-appointed president of Carver of his subordinate status.No use getting angry. Farar folded his hands. I’ll play your game.“I suppose that will have to do.”John nodded, his expression sympathetic enough to be mistaken for genuine.Yes, Farar thought. I will play your for game, for now.

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