Zakabara Prime

Pohanadas was a forebird at a sulfur mine when humanity arrived. When they introduced their credits and new economic innovations to the galaxy, she was one of the many skilled workers recruited into the newly formed University of Zakabara Prime.

There, she studied many things, from reading and writing, to the industrial mining innovations that Earth had provided, to the scientific method and its history that provided context.

From the GalacticNet, she also read a great many things. There were so many new ideas, so alien to her thoughts and societal upbringing. For example, there were those intoxicating ideas of democracy and freedom. The government banned these ideas, as much as any idea could be "banned", but there was simply too much information for them to regulate effectively all at once when the floodgates opened.

Unlike many others in her trade, Pohanadas did not inherit her position in mining as a family business; she had worked hard for it, sweat and blood and all. She understood the allure of a system where people earned power instead of being born into them.

Pohanadas joined an underground group of other similarly minded Zakabarans. They started a reading club for government banned literature.

They called themselves The Students.

Zakabara Prime-Second Border

"It's a Bohor trade ship," the sensor officer said, "they're not responding. Their radio might be broken."

"Could be spies or the start of an invasion," the commander sneered while peering at the screen, clearly not believing in his own invented lie for even a second, "they deserve no mercy for trading with the rebellious Seconders, fire!"

Planetary Palace, Zakabara Prime

"One of our ships just shot down a Bohor trader. We counted six civilians on board in the wreckage," Canouah reported.

"Did they pass the midpoint line into our territorial space?" Popptaw asked, more as a curiosity than expecting an answer that would actually change her mind on the indifference she felt about their deaths.

"Yes. Our crew said that their radio was off, and they were not responding to hails. We did not fire the customary warning shot or further attempt to get the other ship to divert course," Canouah sighed, "should we express our regret at the incident to the Bohors and let them know that we are investigating the incident?"

"Investigate? Our own people?" Popptaw said incredulously, "what's next, we beg for forgiveness? No, it's their own fault for landing on the traitor planet! They caused this incident! Tell the galaxy to stay away from Second!"

"Wouldn't that aggravate the humans and encourage them to invade us?"

Popptaw assured him, "no, they don't have the claws to do that. They know that if they attack us now, they'll face a long and hard battle, and the other species in the galaxy won't side with them. Their whole Galactic Union will be revealed as a farce, and they'll lose far more than they gain."

McDonald's, Zakabara Second Location

Things were much better now.

Mollikutta sat down at a high bench, savoring her delicious apple pie. Over the past few months, Earth's companies had moved aggressively onto Second. She suspected that human authorities may have something to do with it. They were encouraging corporations to invest in her planet with something called "tax credits", whatever that was.

The best part was she no longer had to avoid her people or go out in public with an armed guard at all times. After all, she was now the rightful leader of Second. There were real elections to be scheduled in a few months, but she'd win those easily with the popularity she gained with lifting the blockade.

Popptaw's downright idiotic ban on out-of-system goods worked in her favor too. Earth goods were suddenly flowing into the system through the Galactic Union enforced free trade zone over Second. Some of them went right into her factories, got repackaged, and then sent to Prime.

It was the oldest tariff evasion trick in the history of protectionism. American carmakers often imported vehicles that were mostly completed from developing nations, assembled a final few parts onto it, and then sold them as Made in the USA. British merchants did the same thing to spice imports during the 19th century, when they didn't just resort to smuggling. Ancient Athenian boaters used it to evade grain tariffs.

All these Zakabaran sales bans and tariffs did was to funnel all out of systems goods to Second, which mysteriously made their way to Prime spaceports anyway. This was great for Second businesses. Less good for Prime.

As she ate, Mollikutta felt a warm presence sidle up right next to her. It was the human again. She'd actually grown to like him the last few months. He was polite, professional, and he never made any unreasonable requests of her, even if he did save her life and job.

"How's the pie, Governor?" Mark asked, amused. He'd actually ordered a meal here too. Usually, he didn't like spending that much time out in public, but the governor was friendly and the people of Second loved humans. Besides, he was hungry.

"Delicious," she replied in between bites, "might be one of your people's best food exports."

"I heard they're actually growing the apples in greenhouses on Second now," he corrected casually as he bit into his sandwich.

It was a small, friendly reminder of the prosperity that humanity was bringing to her planet.

"Yes, many of the ingredients are now homegrown," Mollikutta affirmed, "and we appreciate the collaboration between our peoples. Don't think we've forgotten that."

"Oh I wasn't implying anything of that nature," Mark smiled, "but speaking of collaboration, we're interested in starting another new business on Second."

"New business? For you?" she snuck a glance at him, surprised. Usually, bureaucrats handled these kinds of mundane requests, not the guy who they sent to topple regimes and assassinate enemies of the state. Maybe Mark was thinking of retirement? She did hear that some people in his line of work did try to make a small profit to feed their nest eggs…

"Not me, my people. It'll be another joint venture again. Kind of like this fast food restaurant. This time though, we'll need many birds who can read and write," Mark started listing his requirements.

"Like students from the Institute?" she asked.

"Some of them, maybe even the teachers," he said, "and we need some construction workers to get involved."

Teachers and construction workers? She couldn't recall a business that required people like that. Maybe a new school? But that doesn't make money or make sense for humans. "What is this business, exactly?" she asked, curiously.

"Have you ever heard of a radio station?"

Underground Students Meeting, Zakabara Prime

The Students at first read relatively harmless works. Several human literature pieces had been banned for no apparent reason at all. They portrayed comedy, tragedy, love, life, and all the beautiful and ugly things in life. Many of these themes appeared perfectly normal to Zakabarans. It seemed like humans weren't that alien after all.

Then, some of the more daring Students started introducing slightly more dangerous works. Some more political content here and there. After all, politics by itself is nothing more than the affairs that concern the city and its people. They read philosophy, eastern and western. Confucius and Plato. The duty of citizens to their leaders, and the equally sacred responsibility that the government had in protecting its people and enabling their prosperity.

And that's when everything changed.

"It says here that 'people are by nature, all free and equal and independent, and no one should be subjected to the political power of another without consent.' What a world that would be!" exclaimed Pohanadas, quoting a translated work of Locke.

The other Students agreed. They read more. Hobbes, Rousseau, Ho Chi Minh.

Then, some of them started to discuss their own government in the context of these books.

"Revolt is the right of the people," Shikoba declared one day. She was another popular leader of The Student organization. Today, she had gone back to quoting more Locke and explained, "the reason our planet has fallen behind the humans and other galactic powers is simply because our government is incompetent."

There were some murmurs, mostly in agreement. Everyone knew that the way Zakabara Prime ran things was not good. They had read dozens if not hundreds of works on governance, and Popptaw was just not a good leader by any of the metrics proposed in the books. They all joked that Shikoba would make a much better leader.

"The Seconders' declaration of independence in the Galactic Union today proves that this right is not exclusive to humans," Pohanadas agreed, "we deserve the same chance at freedom and a competent governor as all sentient beings do!"

What had started out as a book club started to grow into something more. As more people joined The Students, their membership ballooned beyond a mere college club. Workers, laborers and professionals, seeing their friends and peers in it, began to trickle, then flood in.

There were too many for a single meeting for all. They formed different charters and branches. The radios that are now being mass-produced were now being used to transmit some dangerous ideas about how things really were.

While she waged a cold war against the invaders from Earth in space, an underground society that was friendly to the values of their enemies was forming right under Popptaw's beak on Zakabara Prime.

Bookstore 28, Zakabara Second

Rehhuna watched as the alien entered her store. She didn't have anything against the alien traders. But as any prudent shopkeeper knows, you have to keep a close eye on them just in case.

Then, she recalled a picture from one of her books. It was a human! In the flesh!

"Hello, how may I help you?" she called out courteously. Rehhuna knew that the humans were the master of business. If they liked her bookshop, she was sure she'd get a lot of sales in the future.

"Hi Rehhuna," he greeted her, glancing around. She was confused how he knew her name, but he continued, "I'm Mark. You have an amazing shop here. So many good books. And it just smells… right."

Rehhuna blushed hard at the compliments. She replied proudly, "indeed! We have a large section of popular human books." She pointed at the shelf, then giggled and waggled her eyebrows mockingly, "many of them are even banned by the Popptaw regime!"

Popptaw's bans on books have been thoroughly ignored on Second after they declared independence. The bans effectively increased their prestige, and many Seconders owned one of those or another to show off their patriotism.

"I saw. Those are my favorite, but I might need to come back and check out one written about early Zakabaran developments in flight controls" Mark nodded, "I brought a few old human books with me that you don't have yet. I think you might like them."

New human books?! And she thought she was having a good day just a minute ago…

"What kind of books?" Rehhuna squealed. "Are they more human philosophy?"

"Some of them are," he said, bringing out stacks of them from his backpack onto the counter. They'd been translated. She read the titles off their well-painted covers. The Wealth of Nations. Common Sense. Infantry Attacks by Erwin Rommel. The Updated Anarchist Cookbook.

"Wow," she exclaimed almost breathlessly. She'd heard of some of these books, but nobody had translated them for printing yet. These must be worth their weight in gold. She asked hesitantly, "so how many credits are these going to cost me?"

"They're free," Mark replied breezily, "all yours now! And you can print as many copies of them as you like. Have a good day!"

Then he walked out the exit.

Wait, what?

After a few confused seconds, she picked up her phone while cradling her new babies, "hello! Get me print shop number four right away please!"

Zakabara Second Spaceport

Zoron didn't usually take on cargo deliveries, but this was different. The people who gave her the cargo transferred an obscene number of credits to her name before they even loaded it onto her ship.

It was some Bohor merchant who she didn't recognize. She looked him up on Traders Only. He had a private profile, and apparently no electronic history whatsoever. That was kind of a red flag, but she overlooked it. The massive amount of money he'd given her would make a sizable dent into her dream home fund. A middle-class single family home in Seattle she'd had her eyes on since her prolonged stay on Earth.

By this point, she could probably afford the down payment on a mortgage, but as all honest non-human merchants knew, debts are a scam. The humans kept trying to convince her otherwise, but her fuel hedging contract was where she drew the line on their craziness.

That was different. Fuel hedging just meant she got the same price for fuel every time she parked at Earth. Even if she might miss out on extra profits if the fuel was cheaper, it was more stable. And it would help her out in case the fuel prices rose. Reducing risk is good for long term business, after all.

This cargo delivery, however, was all sorts of mystery. The Bohor trader had told her to not open the massive crates under any circumstances. Which made her want to open it that much more.

Then again, he paid a lot of credits. Her sensibility got the better of her curiosity. She was an honest merchant, and who cared what was in it.

She was supposed to get to Second, and then wait for a local bird…

"Hello, anyone home?" said a bird poking her head into her spaceship cargo.

"Hey, I'm here. What's your name?" Zoron asked.

"Contra," the parrot replied. It was the right codename, so she allowed access to her hold for the mysterious crates. The bird carefully cracked one open, and a stack of white bricks fell out.

One of the bricks spilled a bunch of equally white powder onto the floor.

"Ah shoot," the clumsy bird swore as she tried to clean up the mess with her wings.

"It's fine! I'll get it," Zoron said.

"Contra" looked at her suspiciously but allowed her to vacuum up the powder. It kicked up a dry, sweet smell that reminded Zoron of burnt cane sugar. The bird finished inspecting the contents of the crate to ensure that they were all there, minus a small pile of powder.

As she was leaving, Contra warned her, "do not eat or inhale the powder! It's uh… very toxic. Make sure to clean off any residue left with clean water if you can."

A team of workers came by and loaded the containers onto their convoy of heavy forklifts, and she watched them drive them towards the direction of a covered hangar.

I wonder what that was all about, Zoron wondered.

Market 38, Zakabara Prime

Popptaw was shopping for delicious honey at the market. Yes, it was a product from Earth, but she didn't feel too bad about it. After all, the rules were for the peasants, not for her.

Besides, this honey was technically repackaged on Zakabara Second. The humans sent them in large gallons to a repackaging facility there, where they would be filled into jars, also imported from Earth. While Second was no longer abiding by their rules, they were still technically a part of Zakabara and therefore exempt from these rules.

These import ban circumvention measures made Popptaw very unhappy, but she kept quiet about the few items that she wanted and simply raised taxes on the rest.

Today, she noticed one of the honey vendors was handing out some booklets to her customers. She ambled over and asked, "what were those papers you were handing out?"

"Oh, it's nothing," the merchant said evasively, "just some light reading material."

Popptaw narrowed her eyes. It was never nothing. "Let me see."

Reluctantly, the vendor took one of the pamphlets out and laid them on her booth table. Popptaw snatched one away from her and started to read its contents.

It was promoting quotes and passages from some book named The Wealth of Nations. She racked her brain to think what back to where she remembered that from. Then it hit her. This was one of the most dangerous human texts banned by her decree!

"Arrest her and confiscate her goods!" she said imperiously to one of her guards. They stepped up to grab the poor merchant, who started sobbing her innocence. "We'll see how much you like distributing enemy propaganda after a few lashes of the whip and getting your wings clipped!"

She'd make an example out of this stupid bird. That ought to stop anyone else from getting any silly ideas.

Radio 3764 R, Zakabara

"Today, we've got some more tragic news from Prime Capital. The barbaric practice of clipping the wings of people who disagree with Popptaw has been going on for years, but the frequency has really stepped up on Prime in the past few months. We've got another 4 reports just the past couple days."

"The weakest charge so far is the one of a honey merchant named Corrun, who was merely handing out pamphlets questioning the pointless protectionist policies of the Popptaw regime. Our hearts and prayers go out to her at Prison 2-9-2."

"When the sun rises over Zakabara Prime and dawn comes for her people, Popptaw's crimes will be exposed to all Zakabarans, and together, we can be one people. United again in our heritage and our freedom."

"You've been listening to Radio Free Zakabara," the speaker said, signing off with their slogan, "broadcasting Free Media to Unfree Planets."

Underground Students Meeting, Zakabara Prime

The bird with her ear to the radio silenced the room. "Shhh they've got another one."

The Students all looked expectantly at her as she listened carefully. One of them took out a piece of paper in case he needed to jot down notes.

"Ok, write this down: weakest. Corrun. Prison 2-9-2. Dawn."

Two days later, they snuck two birds into the prison with a wire cutter during the shift change at dawn.

Like the radio told them, it wasn't very well guarded.

Elementary School 1, Zakabara Second

Mollikutta watched as her daughter played with several of the other kids her age in the playground. Most of them were Zakabarans, but there were a few aliens who were now sending their offspring to the increasingly prestigious school that Second now had. They even had a human couple move into their city a while, and everyone was speculating about where their future kids were going to get educated.

"Hello, Governor," Mark said from right next to her. This time, she didn't see him coming at all. Her species is known for their laser sharp vision, useful for tracking prey, not for peripheral situational awareness.

At least she'd had enough experience working with him to not jump when he snuck up on her. She suspected he did it on purpose.

"Hey, Mark," she said, then asked to throw him off balance, "do you have children?"

"No," he answered after a while, not expecting the question. "I'm waiting until I get a little older."

"You're old enough they send you on these dangerous missions to other planets," Mollikutta winked theatrically. "I can introduce you to some pretty birds I know."

"Thanks, but I don't think that's how that works," Mark laughed, "why the sudden interest in my life?"

"I don't know. I guess I don't know what I'd fight for if not for her" she said, pointing at her daughter with her wing. Changing the subject, she asked, "anyway, why did you come here? Is the radio station going okay?"

"Oh yeah, the radio station is going great," Mark reported, "judging by the reports of radio sales on Prime, we're getting many new listeners."

"Prime? I thought the radios are for our people," she asked.

"They are, but they also reach Prime," he said nonchalantly, "it's important to educate your people, and if Primers get a listen too, that's not a big deal. Their people aren't your enemy forever, right?"

"True," she agreed, "eventually the will of the people will prevail on Prime, just as they have here on Second." She left out the part about how the will of the people of Second were at one point mere hours away from lynching her.

"We do have something else we want for your people to import more of into Prime though, other than pamphlets and messages," he continued.

"What is it?" Mollikutta asked.

Mark thought about lying to her for a second, but decided to answer honestly, "drugs."

"Drugs? Like medicine?" she asked, confused. Why would Mark want to send medicine to their rival?

He chuckled a little before giving an answer, "not exactly medicine. It's a somewhat addictive substance called cocaine. We think we can hook Prime soldiers onto it. I'm just warning you ahead of time not to let your people sample it when we transfer them through."

"I see. What does this substance do to birds?"

"It makes them very happy for a while, until it doesn't. More importantly, it'll make us a lot of money. Which we'll need for something else," Mark explained. He didn't bother to hold back. It wasn't like the Governor was going to go running to Congress and explain to them how they were funding their entire outfit off the books.

Mollikutta wasn't sure of the implications of this but agreed anyway. Her people were going to take a slice of the profits of sales, and they would be fine as long as they didn't taste the product. If that brought in profits, it would be good for her planet, right?

"One last thing," Mark said, "spaceport fifty-two."

"Spaceport fifty-two?" she asked. That was a vague request. It was one of the remote spaceports on the dark side of the planet that was only occasionally used for surplus mineral exports. "Do you need it for some landing pads to bring in your goods?"

"We think we're going to need it soon for some other operation," Mark requested, "the entire spaceport."

The entire spaceport?! That's a lot of volume. Are they starting some new corporation on Second that she wasn't aware of? No matter. It was just a spaceport, and the humans always brought profits.

"Ok, we can start redirecting its regular traffic to nearby spaceports," she planned, "I'll have my office work with your people. Anything else?"

"Nope," Mark said. Then he advised, "you should really make sure to diversify your investments. This whole tariff-circumvention thing is great for Second right now, but I wouldn't count on it lasting forever. Maybe try financial services. Your people are good with numbers, right?"

Galactic Union HQ

"You must do something about those Zakabaran outlaws, Secretary General Wilson" said Meeps, the Bohor ambassador. She added angrily, "you have all those armed ships! Use them!"

Amanda couldn't argue too hard because she was entirely in agreement with Meeps, but there was simply not the political will or legal justification to start a war over it.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Ambassador. I truly am. But I'm afraid we can't just start an invasion of Zakabara Prime over what may be an accident," she said, "we'll do a thorough and independent investigation into the matter-"

"My people are tired of those arrogant chickens!" Meeps interrupted. "You guys don't know what it was like in the galaxy before you came around. They were almost as bad as the frogheads."

Amanda was fully aware of the history of bad blood between the Zakabarans and their neighbors. They traded so much surplus food that they ended up using it to bully other planets like Bohor. Furthermore, she was aware that Meeps was drawing this comparison to the Ribbiths to goad her into agreeing.

"We're really trying our best, Meeps," she explained, "but a bungled invasion would destroy our credibility. And we can't just punish them for things they used to do."

"What about just a retaliatory strike?" Meeps bargained. "Blow up a few of their traders. See how they like that! I know you humans use a similar policy instead of war. What's that phrase you use again?"

"Proportional response," Amanda replied automatically, "but we don't use that against civilians. That's against galactic law now, too. It's not an option here."

"You need to do something!" the otter faced alien declared. "We send hundreds of our young pups to Earth to train for war, so that our traders can be safe. Our people demand a response!"

"Like I said, Ambassador Meeps, we're going to thoroughly investigate this incident," Amanda promised, "our people have a long memory. You've seen the Ribbith war crime trials. Your people will get the justice they deserved."

As Meeps hung up, Amanda breathed a sigh of relief.

They were doing something, but she couldn't just tell the Bohors that on the phone.

Planetary Palace, Zakabara Prime

The Fifth of November passed mostly uneventfully on Earth.

On Zakabara Prime, it was anything but. Encouraged by the recent events and the significance of the day in Earth's history, Shikoba, Pohanadas, and The Students had called for widespread protests for political reform in the government demanding elections be held.

At first, it was peaceful. Protesters lined the streets, far more than any of the Students imagined possible. They chanted slogans, waved signs, and Student leaders gave speeches about the progression of civilization and the inevitable rise of freedom and self-rule.

Then, as it seems to always go, it got ugly. Internal security troops poorly trained at riot control used batons and big shields to beat back the protesters who were attempting to get to important government buildings to have their voices heard. The rioters threw rocks and rotten fruit.

"There are too many people protesting to arrest them all," Canouah insisted. This was not his first riot, but this was the first one where the people on the streets espoused a unified ideology and had a singular demand. It was absolutely terrifying. He suggested, "we can try to wait them out or-"

"Or we can just give them what they want!" Popptaw sneered sarcastically, "we didn't hold on to power this long by caving in to the whims of the masses. Shoot a few, and if they don't go home, we'll kill a few more until they get the message!"

By the end of the night, the protesters had gone home. With them, they carried the bodies of dozens of their comrades who had been shot.

That last event should really have been the final red flag for Popptaw and her regime. An angry mob doesn't retrieve their fallen; that's what an organized military does.

She ignored it, like she did the hundred other red flags before it.

???, Zakabara Prime-Second Border

"Mark" read off the report of the latest civilian trade ship shoot-down incident. The names of the pilot and crew. The families they leave behind.

Then he began to read the casualty summary reports from the latest Prime protest turned violent.

Sometimes even the people who lived and died without recognition other than an unnamed star on a wall needed some extra motivation too.

"This is what we're dealing with. And I've just got word from homebase: Operation Galewind is a go."

Zakabara Prime

"Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable," one famous Earth President had said. And when the protesters went home with tears in their eyes and daggers in their hearts, they didn't need to read Kennedy quotes to understand his meaning.

Several other local protests were brutally suppressed. Those protesters went home too. Popptaw declared victory for the government. Triumph of the Zakabaran spirit, she called it. Nobody was listening anymore.

The revolt started in a newly industrialized lumber mill, of all places. A government tax collector and six security troops were ambushed by a small group of workers who had several of their friends killed in the protests.

Wielding simple iron tools, they easily killed all seven of Popptaw's people. Then, taking the soldiers' weapons, they prepared to hold their lumber mill.

"They have some demands for us," a Lord of internal security reported to her.

"Demands?!" Popptaw beak almost dropped to the floor. That was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard..

"Yeah, they want clemency for themselves and justice for the workers we killed-" he started to reply.

"Justice?" she nearly choked on those words, "we'll show them what justice looks like on Zakabara Prime. We aren't like those weak birds on Second who cave in to dangerous mobs!"

That afternoon, an entire platoon of security forces came back to the lumber mill and massacred every last one of the workers, under orders not to let the news of the insurrection spread.

And like every one of her failed policies and bad decisions over the last few years, the most obviously predictable thing happened:

It spread.