Great Powers

The door to the Holifanian envoy's office was far less extravagant than some of the others that Diana had seen along the way. It lacked most of the fancy engravings and insets of shiny and expensive metals, though it retained some degree of dignity in the elaborate carvings that traced the edges of the door. What truly set apart this door from any other she had seen was the door handle. It didn't look particularly expensive and it most certainly wouldn't win any prizes for design, but Diana considered this door handle to be more of a sign of what she was going to be dealing with than any of the others.

This handle, more accurately described as a knob, could be turned, implying that their level of knowledge in the field of mechanical engineering should at least encompass springs. The quality and smoothness of it, despite the blemish caused by repeated use, reminded Diana of the door handles in her grandfather's own home. They were relics by her standards, most doors being electronically controlled if not automated, but they were made through the machining of metals. The creator of that door had knowledge roughly equating to the industrial era of their technological progression at minimum.

This fact was equally daunting and exciting.

However before she could stress herself out thinking about the myriad potential situations that could arise, she decided to calm herself down and take her mind off of such matters. There was still some time before the scheduled audience, so she asked the Scholar for permission to look around a bit.

She was currently in the diplomatic branch of the Sanctum, which was located, quite literally, in a branch of the Great Csillacra. More specifically, she was wandering around the halls of the Great Powers, the powerful and influential nations whose relationship to the Sanctum made it necessary for them to need several different rooms and a large contingent of diplomats, envoys, and ambassadors.

There weren't many of them, such being the nature of powerful nations, but they were hustling and bustling hubs of activity nonetheless. Business always happened behind closed doors, but the envoys and messengers were almost always opening them. Still, despite the frantically scampering grunts of various races, there was more than enough space for Diana to meander around without getting in anyone's way.

Surprisingly, the worst of the her interactions with others was merely an aggressively questioning look. Diana had been expecting to be told off because she didn't have business here. Perhaps it had something to do with her being here in the first place, not everyone would be able to gain access.

After some time, Diana returned to the markedly quiet hallway, remarking once again how bare it seemed in comparison. Clearly they took their isolationism seriously, there was not a single messenger to be seen.

"Why does it seem like they aren't involved at all?" Diana directed her question to the Scholar, who was timidly admiring one of the few pieces of art hung from the wall. "I understand they are isolationists, but aren't they still one of the Great Powers? Don't they have responsibilities?"

"Hm? Responsibilities? I suppose they do, however their duties are not the same as the rest. Truth be told, they sit at a completely different level in comparison to the other Great Powers in a multitude of different ways. For one, their borders haven't changed for the better part of a millennia, they have an extremely stable system completely unreliant on us and they would like to keep it that way. I can't say I blame them either."

"Reliant on the Sanctum? I thought you remained neutral."

"We try to, however the people who live here need to eat and desire luxuries not produced in the Sanctum. Trying to buy an equal amount from everyone is for all intents and purposes impossible, so we have to make sacrifices in order to sign contracts. These contracts are seen as a huge source of legitimization for a government's rule, often equated to the Great Csillacra seeing them as a party deserving of its attention.

Such legitimization is preferable for smaller nations, but it becomes a necessity for larger ones, the Great Powers included. Historically, they have become overly reliant on this source of authority to maintain the cohesion of their dominions that a lull completely erodes confidence and they collapse. Most great powers remain great powers for only a few generations before they fall apart." The Scholar's otherwise neutral and politely informing tone betrayed a hint of distaste for such an arrangement.

"How long has the Holifanian Theocracy remained a Great Power?" Diana asked the question that naturally came next.

"Practically speaking? As far back as our historical records go, at least half a million years. I wouldn't be surprised if they had been that way long before that either. There have of course been times when they technically didn't qualify as a Great Power due to an anomalously high number of large empires that rose almost simultaneously, but they never lost that seat for longer than twenty years and were never asked to leave this hall."

Half a million, five hundred thousand, was a number that most humans struggled to grasp the reality of. When that translated to a period of time, it becomes impossible to fully grasp. This was a fact that Diana was fully aware of, and yet still she tried.

"If they aren't beholden to contracts and the like, what are they supposed to do?" Diana only understood the basics of this sort of subject, but she gathered that there wasn't a reason for them to be a permanent fixture if they had nothing to offer.

"That was something I wondered as well. My teacher, the Librarian, only gave me one word to help on my search - 'Catastrophe'. From that, I browsed out archives looking for references to great disasters and such. From the looks of it, the Holifanian Theocracy only ever seems to interact with the outside world when a terrible, widespread disaster strikes the universe. There are records of them assisting in providing aid during a cascading series of famines, providing the means to end grand pandemics, and enforcing the will of the Great Csillacra whenever it becomes apparent that action is necessary."

Diana turned her attention to the painting the Scholar was analyzing. It wasn't the prettiest painting she had ever seen, works like the Mona Lisa and the Starry Night easily outclassing it, but it was still very impressive for a landscape. The part that made it interesting for her is that it featured a bland palette, something she took to be representative of their isolationist values. None of the art they had on display was flashy, they had no interest in advertising themselves to outside nations.

In spite of understanding the decisions behind the colors, Diana couldn't quite put her finger on what it was trying to show. It looked incredibly realistic for one, she could almost make out individual branches on trees far in the background. Additionally, she felt she had an idea of what was displayed in the middle. Curly gray strings held in place by some sort of stake, a ditch in the ground, a muddy puddle in the middle of a depression too perfectly circular to be made by nature. A gray, overcast sky set the background, wisps of black smoke originating from places hidden by mounds of dirt. Not a single tree had its foliage either, leading her to believe it was set in winter.

"Depressing isn't it?"

A man seemed to materialize beside her, even the Scholar was surprised by his presence.

"Unfortunately, the original has long since been lost to the passage of time. This a mere replica a replica of a replica of a replica. It one of our most renowned paintings, portraying a moment in time mere decades prior to our introduction to the universal community. That said, it isn't the most famous, that one being on display inside. Would you care to share your thoughts on what you think of it with an old soul like myself?"

Diana, though surprised at the elderly man's sudden appearance, was quick on the uptake. His knowledge on the subject and symbol on the brooch pinned to his chest could only mean he hailed from the Holifanian Theocracy.

"Exhaustion, sorrow, and fear. Not to offend you, but to me it looks like a hellscape." Honesty was probably the best course of action based on his demeanor.

"An astute observation. Indeed, the entire purpose of this piece is to portray the horrors of our past. Rather than offended, I am quite amused, 'hellscape' is an excellent way to put it. If I were to tell you this was inspired by a battlefield, what would come to mind?"

'A battlefield? War then.' Diana was thinking about what exactly she thought of this painting after being exposed to some new information. 'I wish Donovan was here, he might be able to tell me which type. On second thought, I could probably figure it out on my own. I can't shake the feeling I've seen something like this before.'

Diana focused harder on the specific aspects of the painting she thought she recognized. The gray strings, they had a name didn't they? Something cable? No, it was wire, barbed wire. The ditch was called . . . a foxhole? A trench. The crater must have been caused by artillery, and the slight red tinge in the dirt was probably blood. All at once, it clicked for Diana.

"...was it trench warfare?" The way she mumbled it under her breath made it almost inaudible. "Would that make this a depiction of No Man's Land?"

The old man raised an eyebrow and frowned. "Trench warfare would indeed be the proper terminology for it, and I could see how you might come to learn about it in passing, but how exactly did you know that was called No Man's Land? Scholar, did you tell her that?"

The Scholar vigorously shook his head in denial. "I don't even know what it is you are talking about."

"I believe trench war was prominent in the Great War between the years of 1914 and 1918 BCE in our history. It was an intense war where I believe around twenty million of our people died. I don't know much more about it than that."

"Twenty million in four years? Were your generals incompetent or was it just a large front?"

Diana had to think carefully about this. If she admitted to 'incompetent generals' it would no doubt stain their perception of their upper echelons, not that they had any. If she admitted to it being a large front her race could be seen as a group of warmongers.

"If I remember it correctly, it was a bit of both." Diana made a split second determination that pinning the matter on both, but not entirely, the blow would be lessened. "It was fought on two fronts, and was almost strictly a land based war. They fought until one side could see their collapse was imminent."

By making it clear that one side actually went through with admitting defeat once it became clear they could not win, she could recover some of the grace of their high command.

The old man once again turned to the picture in thought. "A war of conviction? No, one forced by alliances seems more likely in this scenario. Might I ask your name young lady?"

"My name is Diana Helmsguard." She displayed the slight curtsy she had practiced. Her clothes weren't exactly ideal for the maneuver, but the old man did not seem to mind. Diplomatic attire probably varied wildly from planet to planet.

"Which would you prefer I address you as?"

"Miss Helmsguard would be preferable."

"Very well then Lady Helmsguard." For some reason she could not discern, the man emphasized the label of Lady. "As per tradition, you may refer to me, the Primary Envoy, as Montaug. Now please, follow me. I will have to ask you to wait outside