Triarchy News Exclusive:
Minor Data Mishap in Ortaz Historical Archives Causes Amusement Across Factions
In a rather humorous archival slip-up, Ortaz historians mistakenly recorded a Dialogue between Supreme Proconsul Antonian Kromus and High General Markwell Winner.
While Ortaz archivists apologized for the obvious chronological blunder, they assured readers that “time itself occasionally requires creative adjustments.” Triarchy News found the error amusing enough to publish, reminding everyone that even highly evolved societies occasionally misplace a digit or several thousand years.
Dialogue
“You realize, Markwell,” Antonian Kromus said gravely, staring into the depths of space from his office window, “that our new technology for traveling through black holes might lead to an equally dark catastrophe?”
“Catastrophe,” replied General Winner, leaning against the control console, “is merely a matter of definition. To me, a catastrophe occurs when ships arrive at the Arks without chocolate donuts. And a black hole is just a large coffee cup of the universe through which we can send an entire fleet.”
“Your culinary metaphors are inappropriate in matters of cosmic politics, General,” the Proconsul responded impassively. “Although, admittedly, ‘the coffee cup of the universe’ does sound inspiring. Perhaps the scientists have underestimated the potential of your ideas.”
“Scientists always underestimate something, especially when there are too many of them per square meter of the laboratory,” Markwell remarked ironically. “You know, when I was young, I learned to fly on a cannonball, so trust me—I understand spatial travel better than any scientist.”
“On a cannonball?” Kromus raised an eyebrow in astonishment.
“Absolutely,” Markwell affirmed without hesitation. “The key is the right angle of flight and certainty that someone will catch you at your destination. A black hole is similarly a matter of faith and precision. We just need to be sure that on the other side we’re greeted not by alien pirates, but at least by a decent restaurant.”
“Do you seriously believe the main problem of interstellar travel is the quality of service on the other end of the hole?” Antonian asked, suppressing a smile.
“Seriously!” the General exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. “What good is space if there’s no worthy menu? Humanity must strive for greater things, and greatness comes only through simultaneous risk and comfort. As Nietzsche said, he who gazes into a black hole must remember the black hole also gazes into a restaurant menu, awaiting our arrival.”
“I’m afraid you’ve somewhat misquoted Nietzsche, General,” Kromus cautiously noted.
“Nietzsche gets misquoted daily, depending on who’s reading him,” Markwell philosophically remarked. “But there’s one truth: we’ve created technology that unites worlds, yet we argue out of fear of the unknown. Isn’t it amusing that humanity always fears precisely what it desires most?”
“You remarkably blend depth and absurdity, General,” the Proconsul acknowledged. “But what exactly do you propose?”
“A simple solution! Before every jump through a black hole, we first send an Ark filled with philosophers and bureaucrats. If they return satisfied, all is well on the other side. If not, we solve a few domestic political problems at once.”
Antonian Kromus nodded thoughtfully.
“I’m afraid your idea is too good to be implemented. But at least we might start by feeding the philosophers better.”
“Excellent,” Markwell concluded. “Then I’ll go prepare the menu for the first experimental Ark. As my favorite philosopher once said, ‘You cannot be great on an empty stomach.'”
“Who said that?” the Proconsul asked curiously.
“I did, of course,” replied the General with seriousness. “Why, do you think I’m inferior to Nietzsche?”