Infiltration of the UGN was simpler than it should have been. On paper, the UGN had its own policing force that would patrol every system of its member nations, all while those nations had their own policing force that would solely patrol their own territory. This would, at least on paper, leave no gaps in any defenses that could be exploited by pirates, criminals and smugglers.

This did not work in practice, however, as both the nations and the UGN proper slowly cut back on the number of ships in the patrols and the number of patrolling fleets over the course of several hundred years. By cutting back on the patrolling fleets, it had been hoped that more money could be allotted for other uses, but as one would expect, cutting back on the budget for the police forces negatively impacted the bottom line of both the UGN and its individual nations.

The only place that the patrols were constantly at full strength was in the Core, where the ten nations that made up the UGN bordered each other and had their capital worlds. The rest of the UGN was positively rife with corruption, crime and illicit drug trade, but this did not mean that there was no hope for those who lived there. Recently, a change had been worming its way into the various worlds outside of the Core; something unseen in over seven centuries.

Religion.

Cults were popping up left and right as a result of the survivors of the Angelus Holy Union’s attack. In desperation, many of the survivors had a moment of faith, and when the AHU fled during that moment, they erroneously believed that correlation implied causation. Now those who had for generations been atheists turned to superstition and feelings over logic and reason. They needed an answer as to why they had been spared while others had not, and with the UGN obviously lying about being the ones to defeat the AHU, what other place for them to turn to was there than the supernatural?

Mind you, magic was still a thing, so they were looking for something higher than the Laws of Magic, something so powerful that it could only be called a God.

So, why talk about infiltration, then?

Simple; The Church of Arkhan was busy sending missionaries and the Arcadian Intelligence Corps were busy sending its agents into the mostly undefended outer reaches of the UGN. The biggest issues they would have to deal with would be the planetary and system governments, the local crime groups and, of course, the cults themselves. If all went well, these cults would accept the truth given to them by Arcadia’s agents, and if not, then things could very well grow far more difficult.

…

A lone beastman walked into the makeshift chapel that was hidden away in one of the many shantytowns on Svlit Prime. She had journeyed from Holy Arcadia to teach the gospel to the natives and, in a relatively short amount of time, had been forced to deal with the less reputable members of the Svlit System, the government included. Dressed in simple clothing and carried a single object of material worth with her; a pendant made of gold-plated metal with the flag of Arcadia on one side and an embossed picture of Arkhan’s face on the other.

This was the one thing that every clergyman from the Church of Arkhan carried with them at almost all times, aside from the Arcadian Bible, of course. It was a symbol of their pure and unshakeable devotion, and they would normally die before they would let it be taken from them. The Arcadian Bible, unlike the texts normally used by people, was still in either hardback or softback book form, which was a callback to the faith’s earliest days. True, they could switch to the more widely accessible digital medium like the majority of those who were faithful, but it was a mark of pride to carry around an actual, physical copy of the text rather than having a purely digital copy.

Besides, it was harder to alter the physical version without it being noticed than it was to alter the digital version in the same way.

“Ah. Sister Marceras! It is so very good to see you again, my Child. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

The cult leader, Father Nyrk, had built up quite the positive reputation among the populace and had actually impressed both Mother Marceras and the Church of Arkhan. So many of those that rose up to lead the various newborn faiths in the UGN were nothing more than demagogues and power-mad monsters. Father Nyrk, on the other hand, actually cared for the people and intentionally lived in poverty so he could get to know his flock better. He did not demand tithes or donations, and instead used what charity that was given to aid the homeless, jobless, hungry, naked and sick.

By all accounts he was someone that was definitely Church material.

“Father Nyrk, I have come to tell you something of great importance. May I have your ear in a more private setting?”

Father Nyrk nodded and beckoned the Panda Beastman female into the rear of the makeshift church. The elderly man who was of a race very similar to an elephant seal motioned for Mother Marceras to sit and poured some water for the two of them.

“So, Sister Marceras, what is it you wished to speak about?”

Mother Marceras opened a duffle bag and pulled out a dataslate.

“Please do not be alarmed, Father. Just listen and watch what it has to show you. I am sure you will understand.”

Picking up the dataslate, Father Nyrk watched the hour and a half of footage that was recorded. As he watched, his face went through various emotions. Denial, Anger, Sorrow, Bargaining and finally Acceptance all crossed his countenance, though not necessarily in that order.

“Is this true?”

Father Nyrk’s words were barely an audible whisper.

“It is. The God I serve was the one responsible for saving you and your new flock. He, His great works and His creations were the ones responsible for turning the tide and rescuing all you know from oblivion. He has expressed that his greatest regret was that he did not act sooner, but circumstances did not allow His direct intervention at that time. Now you know who and what you were worshipping, even though you knew not whom to thank.”

His hand shaking, Father Nyrk put down the dataslate and looked up at Mother Marceras who had stood up and was offering her hand to the elderly man.

“Holy Arkhan does not demand that you change your ways, nor does He demand that you cast your current faith aside. We of the Church of Arkhan merely follow His guidance when it is given, and the Holy College has determined that you, Father Nyrk, are faithful to our God, though you knew not His name.”

“And what would Arkhan have me do?”

Marceras smiled as she lifted the old man from his seat.

“Simply do as you have done. Your lifestyle is one that all clergymen are expected to follow. Even one such as I, who is relatively high up, am expected to live in such a way. I have studied you and reported my observations. Rejoice, for even Almighty Arkhan Himself personally agreed that you are worthy.”

The elderly Father Nyrk was then handed a pendant of the exact same make and design as the one worn by Mother Marceras.

“Please, Sister Marceras, tell me one thing.”

“Yes, Brother Nyrk?”

“Did the Angelus Holy Union get their just deserts?”

Mother Marceras smiled and replied.

“They sought a Judgement Day, and Almighty Arkhan supplied them with one. They were found wanting.”

Father Nyrk smiled and held the pendant in his hands before putting it on his neck. He was not the first to join, and he would not be the last.