Technology eventually overrides major evolutionary changes.

  Technology develops to offset the problems of the day, regardless if that technology eventually becomes recognizing as creating their own problems. - Bo'okdu'ust, social scientist, post-2PW.

  Today's problems are what kill you. Let tomorrow worry about itself. Worry about this momeny and the killing you have to do to survive.- Admiral Breastasteel, Clownface Nebula Conflict

  Despite what someone might think, humans don't really change that much. - Dreams of Something More, diplomat, 2PW

  The shopping center was busy, the aisles full of people moving around in rivers of sound and color and motion. Clothing differed as much as skin, hair, and eye color. Shopping bags were held by anthropromorphic animals that laughed at each other's joke. Digital packages were carried by glittering beings that sparkled joyfully.

  Theron sat at the table with his friends. His girlfriend Mila was next to him, educating everyone about the latest thing to go across campus, punctuating what she was saying by jabbing one of Theron's fries at the small group of friends.

  "...come out of the bag, they expect us to go straight to war," she was saying, her soprano voice vibrating with the intensity of her beliefs. "Without even asking, without seeing if there is some way we can coexist in peace with whoever came out the victor of that war."

  "But..." Karl said, reaching up to comb his whiskers with one blue and white swirled fur covered hand.

  "If the Lanaktallans won against our end stage capitalistic war machine, which they will, as they all work toward the common good while we all work for the benefit of rich people living in their Zoozve mansion," Mila said.

  Theron rolled his eyes.

  He'd just wanted to go out with friends.

  "Basic needs are met. Capitalism is voluntary," Gresteki said, the third generation Tnvaru reaching out to grab one of Theron's fries and dip it in his sweat & sour mix. "You are using outdated data sets."

  Theron felt Mila stiffen and silently cursed.

  Here we go...

  0-0-0-0-0

  Theron flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could see Mila in the picture-in-picture feature of his cybereyes. He could hear her talking as she brushed her hair.

  "...believe that Nokaruma and Xia just can't see that the fact we've begun calling ourselves the Dominion isn't just repeating the history that led to the Witch Head Nebula Burning," she was saying.

  "Uh-huh," Theron said.

  He kept staring at the ceiling.

  He dozed off and dreamed that Mila was following him around a dark forest, sometimes chasing him, spouting off political rhetoric, facts, figures, and statistics, while he desperately tried to find his baby sister, who he could hear crying in the darkness.

  He woke up feeling exhausted.

  The fresher didn't help much.

  His ears felt bruised, but he'd gotten used to it.

  He got dressed and left the dorm.

  His first class he closed his eyes and tried not to fall asleep.

  His classes went by fast and he found himself in the campus dining hall.

  Mila sat across from him.

  "...may be a Senator of the Hamburger Kingdom," her face twisted in disgust at the name of the country, "But that just means he's a sellout to end stage hypercapitalism rather than the greater good that his people represent. Ambassador Yumo'o has stated many times that the Senator is a rogue, operating outside of his orders..."

  Theron just nodded, making noises at the appropriate times.

  0-0-0-0-0

  "I'm sorry, but you're over your allotted educational credits for this decade," the advisor said. "You've been in college for five years straight and have gotten two extensions to continue to get free, non-supported educational credits."

  Theron nodded. Part of him felt relief. He'd gone as far as he could in education.

  "You could always apply for a scholarship again, even though you are close to your educational credit limit for scholarships and grants," the advisor said. She tabbed through the screens. "You are very close to a history degree, or even a communication's technology degree. Maybe a computer science, but that one you'd have to take some classes to catch up with the newest technologies."

  "How long do I have to think about it?" he asked.

  "Two weeks. You'll have to come up with something by then," the advisor said. She tapped some keys. "If you want to enter voluntary employment, there's several hundred options, lots of them with high ratings for luxury item allowance. If you wish to register for citizenship conscription, you won't be a test subject or anything like that. I can help guide your way through anything you need."

  Theron nodded. Advisors were highly trained, constantly attending symposiums. Mila said it was to enable the advisors to wring the most uncompensated labor from the Dominion's people.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "Thank you," Theron said. He stood up.

  "Please, make an appointment to see me in the next few days. We can go over your options," the advisor said.

  "I will. Again, thank you," Theron said.

  He moved into the office and made an appointment with the VI secretary. He entered the appointment on his datalink's firmware calendar and headed down the hallway.

  He'd meet Mila and see what she thought.

  He was passing one of the offices when a voice caught his attention.

  "Out of educational credits, eh, son?" the voice was rough, gravelly, and made Theron tense slightly.

  He turned to look as saw the Dominion Armed Services recruiter leaning against the door frame.

  "How did you know?" Theron asked.

  The recruiter smiled. "The university informs me of people's standing."

  "Oh."

  "Look at you," the recruiter said. "What's your plan, son? Do you have one? Have you ever had one?"

  "Well... to finish school and..." Theron trailed off.

  "And what? What were your plans?" the recruiter asked.

  Theron stood there for a long moment.

  A call pinged him, Mila's icon popping up and pulsing.

  "Better answer. I'll bet that's the girlfriend," the recruiter smiled. "I can see the pulse in your left eye," he answered the question as soon as Theron opened his mouth.

  "Hey, Mila," Theron said.

  "Oh my goddess, did you hear?" Mila said. Before Theron could answer, she launched into telling about how Xia was at risk of losing her disability status after the latest gene-surgery had completely eliminated her tinnitus.

  The recruiter just grinned, lifting up his left hand and turning it palm up. Theron could see he was looking at something, but the hologram above the upturned palm was a scattered spray of light and lines.

  Mila stopped to take a breath and Theron broke in. "I'm at appointments. I can't talk."

  "Well, why didn't you tell me you had appointments? You've let me talk and talk like you weren't doing anything special, without even knowing that you were humiliating me and making me appear to be uncaring and selfish about what are going through," Mila said, her voice getting tight. "It was inconsiderate of you to not tell me that you are at appointments. It feels like you're cutting me out of important parts of your life, and withholding information on things like appointments is really skating toward you bruising me emotionally by making me feel as if you don't trust me to understand whatever it is you might be struggling with. Men withholding medical appointments and results is how their significant..."

  The recruiter suddenly laughed as something, then shook his hand to clear the data.

  "I have to go, they just called me," Theron said.

  "I didn't hear them..."

  He hung up on her.

  "What's her plan for you?" the recruiter asked.

  Theron opened his mouth, then shut it.

  Mila planned on working for a political activism organization, preferably a charity, after education. She already had met with recruiters and last month had done two weekends of internship work.

  Without him.

  "Tell you what, son," the recruiter said, smiling wider. "Come on in, have yourself a narcobrew, and we can go through your options."

  He wouldn't have. He was about to turn away. He was about to walk off.

  TEXT: MILA

  DID YOU JUST HANG UP ON ME WHILE I WAS TALKING TO YOU?

  Theron followed the recruiter in.

  0-0-0-0-0

  "...could you just sign up for the military of all things? Haven't you heard a single thing I've said to during the last five years we've been together? You know how I feel..."

  "...discount my feelings in all of this, but what about our friends? How do you think they're going to look at me when they find out that you joined the very oppressive system that forced the Lanaktallan to invade..."

  "...can't exactly go with me to this week's protest as a member of a militaristic campus death cult..."

  "...you really can't help support me and help me and my friends get ready for this protest? You really have to spend the entire Friday evening with that band of death cultists? Theron, sweetie, you aren't changing your priorities to something more self-centered after everything I taught you, are you..."

  "...well, if you didn't want us to protest you maybe you shouldn't have joined a death cult..."

  "...do you mean you have to leave for sixteen weeks? What about the die-in we all plan on doing? They don't count against your SUDS count because it's activism and..."

  "...it's not like he meant anything. besides, you were gone for sixteen weeks and I have needs that you weren't fulfilling. A real man would understand that I have..."

  "...okay it was more than one but that doesn't change the fact that you chose your death cult and your fellow cultists over me and my needs..."

  "...it's not that big of deal, lots of guys do it. Just try being a woman for a little while, it might clear your head..."

  "...without your support it'll be more difficult for me to attend protests and those are important to make sure that the Senate and the King himself doesn't trample on our rights..."

  "...except if you are attending education you have a waiver to the mandatory worst amendment requirements. You shouldn't have to wear that terrible and ugly looking thing around me..."

  "...an old friend, Theron! You completely misunderstood what you saw! And then you made verbal threats of violence regarding his actions toward me! If I permit him to touch my body it's no business of yours..."

  "...just don't go..."

  "...just try swapping sex maybe it'll clear your head and you won't want to stick around your fellow death cultists so much..."

  "...my friends worry about me dating a death cultist..."

  "...everyone knows that it was in response to the Confederacy's actions..."

  "...think that military service granting citizenship just ends up with our citizenship being knee jerk reactionists who rely on violence..."

  YOU HAVE 258 UNREAD TEXT MESSAGES/152 UNWATCHED VIDEO MESSAGES FROM: OH FUCK IT'S HER

  0-0-0-0-0

  PV2 Theron Theresa Pinion felt his heavy assault armor, a five ton miniature starship, vibrate around him as the GLASER beams missed his battlescreen by inches, making it flare with the curls and spirals nature loved so much. Point defense was picking off incoming munitions miles out, the firing of the weapons a steady roar.

  He had his suit mics on, letting him hear the roar and the violence of the battle he was taking part in.

  Sergeant Casson's icon appeared. "You all right, Private?"

  Theron smiled wider. "Yes, Sergeant."

  "It's your first drop. Anything bothering you?" the squad leader asked.

  "No, Sergeant," he said.

  "What's with the grin?" Casson asked.

  Up ahead there were multiple bright flashes and nukes hammered the outlying industrial district. The roar was all encompassing and made him smile wider.

  "I didn't think that combat would be so quiet," he said.

  The Sergeant laughed, then shook her head. "Married?"

  "No, Sergeant."

  "I was. Didn't realize just how much fun I was going to have. He'd thrown me out again and I was walking in the rain," the Sergeant frowned. "Hang on."

  A new strike package appeared and went straight to his missile launcher. He checked and it was a full branch of mixed anti-armor, anti-vehilce, and APERS FASCAM rounds to be dropped at where their new Telkan scout was pinpointing advancing enemy troops.

  He looked at the window in window, bringing it up since the option showed itself.

  The Telkan was crouched behind a burning car beneath a super-highway overpass. Beyond the overpass and the elevated superhighway there were hundreds of vehicles and armored suits advancing.

  ATOMIC ATOMIC ATOMIC rolled down his screen.

  --whee-- his mantid, 7741, sent back. Like Theron, 7741 was a new recruit.

  Sergeant Casson switched attention back to Theron. "Gotta go. Keep up the good work, soldier."

  "Roger, Sergeant," Theron said.

  --got idea might be neat-- 7741 said.

  "Go for it."

  The sounds changed. It took a second, but suddenly the sounds were being cut in and out in such a way that they were forming a song. It took a second for him to realize what it was.

  High-data electro-hop.

  Theron's grin got even bigger.

  "I love this fucking job."

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0GDS8QB39

  First Contact Books:

  BEHOLD HUMANITY!

  PayPal:

  Patreon: