Tuesday, December 01, 2020

Universe 647

I can confidently say that Remembrance of Earth's Past is my favorite science fiction series that I've read in years. It's been both surprising and satisfying, insightful and thrilling, human and epic, audacious and inevitable. When I started reading The Three-Body Problem I wouldn't have imagined ending up where I did by the end of Death's End, and I feel impressed by the ride.


Throughout the series there's been a strong focus on basic research: not so much a specific invention created by a brilliant engineer, but rather, groups of scientists gradually delving into the fundamental mysteries of the universe. From the problems with particle accelerators in the first book through the strong nuclear force of the second book and various experiments with universal constants and the curvature of space in the third book, the most exciting question tends to be how the universe works rather than how we can exploit it. This research ultimately has practical applications, but the fundamental models are the most important part.

I love how the science gets more ambitious and stranger as the series goes along. It dovetails nicely with the telescoping time periods throughout the series: we advance through months, then years, then decades, then centuries, millennia, eons. Late in the series the characters describe things that seem bizarre and impossible; but, just think of how much commonly-accepted science today would have seemed bizarre and impossible in Benjamin Frankin's day. There's a humility in Liu's gaze, recognizing how inferior we are to the people we will become. I also really like how, even in this fantastic future, there are detours and dead ends: Earth civilization wastes time investigating theories that prove to be unfounded, and invest in ventures that prove fatally flawed. It feels so much like real life: Yes, science advances and gets better over the time, but not every step is a step forward, and while we're shaking our heads at the fools before us who believed the wrong thing, we should remember that they were fixing earlier problems from the fools before them, and one day our new ideas will seem just as flawed to those who understand more deeply than us.

In particular, I thought the presentation of lightspeed travel was especially interesting. Throughout The Dark Forest, I thought it interesting that, while this is a hard sci-fi series, it doesn't seem to grapple with the implications of relativity as much as other sci-fi books have, as we would expect travelers to experience less time than those who stay still. That does get addressed in Death's End, and in some ways the third book is about that problem, with some explanations that seem to contradict Einstein; but it's very earned, it doesn't feel hand-wavy, but rather a plausible idea for another sort of science. Just like we used to think that atoms were indivisible, we may learn one day that universal constants are not, in fact, constant.


Mostly some random thoughts in here:

I was a little surprised that the fall of Byzantium wasn't referenced again later in the book after that startling prologue. But we the reader can parse it: it seems like there was a fourth-dimensional collapse in our spacetime coinciding with the siege, leading to the exposure of previously hidden ways and contents. I wondered at the time whether there was anything special about that one woman in particular that allowed her access to such a state; but, given the later events on board Blue Space and Gravity, it was probably just that a portal opened in that one place inside a tower, and she happened to find it. That portal decayed like the fourth-dimensional space around Blue Space decayed. (It's interesting to think of how Earth's history might have been different if it had decayed slightly more slowly!)

I really enjoyed the characters in this book, and it felt like we had more access to Cheng Xin's thoughts and feelings than we have to previous protagonists. Her introduction seemed a little stiff, as she's mostly presented as an idealized feminine object of Yun Tianming's affection, but once she takes center stage she really earns it. Late in the book we're reminded that, thanks to her hibernation and light-speed travel, she's somehow still only in her thirties, which seems extraordinary considering all she has done and the outsized responsibilities she's held.

Similarly to how Shi Qiang bridged the first two books, Luo Ji bridges the last two. He does take a more active role in this book, which is cool; he's a fun and explicitly nuanced character, and it's interesting to see him play multiple roles over time. But it does make me freshly surprised at how Wang Miao completely vanished from the series after being a protagonist for the first book. It's not bad, and as I noted in my previous post I do like how the epic scope of the story is reinforced by all the fresh faces, but the disparity between Wang and Luo is curious.

Cixin Liu continues to innovate and surprise with the form of the novel, weaving in new elements. The first book stirred historical fiction and detective stories into hard sci-fi, while the second book used political thrillers. Death's End once again brings in a new genre from left field: this time, it's fairy tales! Roughly midway through the book, the main narrative pauses for a long and shockingly well-written fantastical story, presented as three separate fairy tales but really one continuous story about the Storyless Kingdom. The stories are so striking and so pertinent that they remained fresh and sparkling in my mind throughout the entire rest of the novel, much like how the Cultural Revolution loomed over the events of The Three Body Problem.

The fairy tales are well-written, but also very cleverly constructed, packed with allegories and clues and hints. I felt really impressed once they were revealed, much like how I feel impressed at, say, a long-laid David Mitchell revelation. The main thing that I'm left wondering at the end of the novel is the significance of the umbrella. Painting into two dimensions seems quite clear, an unheeded warning about the flattening threat. Given that, it seems like the spinning umbrella offers a solution of some sort. Spinning and rotating is significant throughout, like the watery vortex in the Norwegian sea. I wonder if, given enough time, Earth's scientists could have prepared some defense against this, or at least a way to buy more time. Perhaps curving space within the Solar System could have slowed the advancement enough to leave another way?

In other allegories, Prince Deep Water seems more clear. He was unaffected by the painter because he was already two-dimensional. That seems like another missed opportunity for escape: if Earth had somehow anticipated the strike, they could have followed the nihilistic strategy described by Yun Tianming and voluntarily reduced themselves to two dimensions. Which would have been an incredible loss, but would have guaranteed the continuation of Earth civilization.

Part of me was hoping that Bill Hines would make a reappearance in this book, as I also felt like there were some loose ends from his Escapist nam-shub as a Wallfacer. He doesn't, but I was extra-surprised to see Manuel Rey Diaz, out of everyone, providing a critical component to humanity's salvation. There's so much misdirection in this series, I love it!

The progression from Wallfacer to Swordholder was also really cool. It's probably just as well that Swordholding wasn't the main focus of the book, but I enjoyed this other sort of psychological contest. It's a game theory-y thing rather than an obfuscation thing; or rather, there's still some obfuscation since sophons can't see inside someone's mind, but it's reduced to a binary yes/no with catastrophic consequences, rather than an elaborate and hidden scheme. Anyways, the game theory part is really cool, explicitly harkening back to the Mutually Assured Destruction of the mid-20th-century, and realizing that mankind rationally chooses to place its fate on an irrational choice is hella exciting. Vindictiveness becomes a virtue, revenge a sacrament, one's capacity for evil the only plausible route to a good outcome.

There's a brutality running through the book. Over and over again, Wade is proved right and Cheng Xin wrong. A cold-hearted decision with limited casualties would have spared an entire civilization from extinction. It seems like the end of the book is on Cheng Xin's side, though. She "loses" every battle she's in: the high-stakes standoff of the Swordholders, gambling on the future with Halo City, and so on. But the ultimate long-term stakes are the heat death of the universe versus the big crunch, and only Cheng Xin's policy of love will lead to the right direction. Who knows, maybe those few kilotons of mass will be the deciding factor after all.


So, yeah! I do feel a little wistful at having finished this series and no more books to read in it. Which is kind of surprising; the second book ended on a thoroughly satisfying note, and I was wondering if the third entry would spoil that and follow a good note with a bad one. Not at all! It somehow manages to get even better and more ambitious, drawing me in to its telescoping story. It goes deep, it gets broad, but still stays personal, anchored to characters who we know and love dearly by the end. It's a really remarkable work.

Sunday, November 15, 2020

Lookit The Pretty Boids

I'm making good progress on my first Captain-difficulty Stellaris game. I'd initially planned to wait until finishing the game to write it up, but a ton has happened so far that seems noteworthy, and my brother recently encouraged an update, so I thought I'd chime in with my progress so far. I recently returned to the game after a detour with BG3 Early Access, and after a brief period of "Whoa, where am I and what am I doing?!" I've found my feet again.

This was my first game rolling a custom civ, after always playing as the United Nations of Earth on previous outings; now that I have a better feel for the game mechanics and my preferred playstyle, I felt more comfortable customizing a new approach. After downloading the free species portrait pack from Steam, I picked a really pretty peacock-ish portrait and dubbed my species the Phasianidae. I initially planned to do a pacifist run, and so chose a Pacifist ethic, which decreases Sprawl (allowing for bigger empires) and increases Stability (leading to higher production, trade, and immigration); you can't start wars on demand, but can declare an ideological war on any civ that doesn't share your ethics, which in practice is almost all of them. I also opted to be a Fanatic Xenophile, which gives you more Envoys to help keep enemies off your back, and increases Trade Value to supercharge your economy.

I'd always stuck with a Democracy in my Earth games and wanted to try something else. I eventually settled on an Oligarchy, mostly so I could run both the Meritocracy and Shadow Council civics for +10% output of Specialist and Ruler production. It's been pretty good, but I did end up kind of regretting not trying a Dictatorship or Imperial government for the extra Edict slot; I'd forgotten just how limiting it feels to only have a single edict for most of the game.

For species traits, I chose Rapid Breeders for +10% growth speed; at least in the games I've played so far, from the midgame on the single most important factor in power seems to be the number of pops you have, so I've started juicing everything I can to get more pops. I toyed with picking up a negative trait too but decided against it; I was a little tempted by Weak since armies aren't very important, especially in a Pacifist game, but it also hurts Worker Output so I passed.

As I recently noted to my brother, one challenging thing about Stellaris compared to Fall from Heaven 2 or other 4X games is just how long it takes to figure out how strong your start is. In other games, you can quickly explore your immediate surroundings and decide early on whether it's worth continuing the game or if you're better off re-rolling. In Stellaris, though, it takes many decades (in-game!) to figure out the hyperlane patterns, find nearby habitable planets, and determine who your neighbors are, how they feel and how close to you they are.

For the origin, I selected Galactic Doorstep, which sounded interesting: you spawn with a disabled Gateway in your home system, and there's a longish quest chain related to it: things coming out of it, investigating it, and gradually learning how to reactivate it. I'm glad that I did it and it was a fun change of pace, but I think I'll likely go back to Prosperous Unification in the future, or maybe switch to a new one if and when I pick up DLC for the game.

That Galactic Doorstep almost cut my run short. It's really helpful early on: you receive a nice chunk of Alloys relatively early on, which is huge in the early-early game before your industrial base gets off the ground. Eventually, though, some hostile aliens come through, and my pacifist self was not ready for them. They wiped out the minor defenses I had in the system, then started bombarding my starbase. I frantically upgraded another Outpost into a Starbase, built a shipyard, and started churning out new corvettes to counterattack. In the meantime, though, my Fleet Power had declined to 0, so all my neighbors started throwing their weight around, making demands and offering me "protection". I eventually managed to fight off those intruders, but oof, it was pretty hairy!

After the early-game benefit of free alloys and such, the really nice thing about the Galactic Doorstep is that you can permanently unlock the ordinarily-rare tech to reactivate Gateways (similar to how you unlock tech after scavenging alien debris), and after that the tech to build new Gateways. These are still very expensive techs, so I didn't research them as soon as they became available, but I still ended up with Gateways a lot quicker in this game than the previous one. One of the best things about this was that piracy has been a lot more manageable. There was another deactivated Gateway in my territory at the end of my empire, and after reactivating that a lot of my piracy went away; by the time the rest started to become a problem, I could start building new custom Gateways in other systems.

I feel like I definitely know the game a lot better this time around, and besides the importance of Gateways, another thing I think I'm doing much better this time around is starbase placement. In my previous game, I focused mostly on strategic location, building up starbases at borders and at internal chokepoints. Those seem to be almost useless, though; by the time of a late-game war, fleets are a lot more powerful than starbases; and because borders can shift so much, a starbase could become irrelevant. I also now realize how important Stability is (for keeping up production, which is what ultimately wins wars), so the Deep Space Black Site, which I initially thought was an almost useless building, is now usually the first thing I build.

My new general system is: First, only ever build (upgrade) Starbases in systems with colonies. This gives the Stability bonus, allows directly collecting Trade from the planet, lets you eventually link up with your gateway network, and provides extra defense if the colony system is ever invaded. Next, try to specialize each starbase. My first priority is typically Trade: I check to see what nearby colonies aren't yet covered by a starbase, and what claimed systems have trade value, and figure out the best place to put a Starbase and how many Trade Hubs I'll need to cover everything. (Ideally planning long-term with the 6 slots I expect to eventually have, though I'm now also much more happy to do an initial buildout and retrofit later, like starting with 2 starbases of 2 Trade Hubs each and later moving all 4 hubs to the same Starbase).

Other than Trade, I build some starbases that focus on Shipyards, then others with Anchorages. Honestly, I learned this from the AI in my last game, realizing that all the Starbases I conquered followed similar loadouts. Each Starbase then builds buildings that synergize with its primary function: Fleet Academies for Shipyards, Naval Logistics Offices for Anchorages, and Offworld Trading Company for Trade ones. Any extra buildings get filled with Resource Silos.

In this game I'm not building any combat-oriented things in my starbases like missile or gun batteries, communciation jammers, etc. Partly that's because of my pacifist leaning, but I also was pretty underwhelmed by these in my previous game: again, by the time you're fielding battleships, fleets will outperform starbases, and the enemy AI seems to be smart enough to not invade a system with a significantly stronger defense. I do think that, if piracy is a problem, it would make sense to fill out slots with Hangar Bays, and then retrofit those to Anchorages or Shipyards after turning on your mass effect relays gateways.

Like I noted above, it's hard to judge how good a starting position in Solaris is, and I lucked out in this game. I turned off the "clusters" option for Empire Placement and ended up with some more breathing room around me. In this game, I took a sort of "wave" approach to early exploration: my first Science Ship would just explore and not survey. Then a second ship would follow later and survey systems with habitable planets. This seems to work out pretty well: you can still find good planets to settle by the time you're ready to build colony ships, and you have a much better shot at figuring out the galaxy's topology.

As in all my earlier games, my first priority was to race for claiming chokepoints: trying to claim systems that would block off neighbors' expansion in my direction, letting me claim other systems behind it at my leisure. This typically follows a "snake" route, where I'll claim the shortest path between my homeworld and that chokepoint, instead of steadily expanding out in all directions. Of course, rival empires are expanding too, so it's good to have backup plans: if I realize I won't be able to reach a desired chokepoint in time, hopefully there's another one behind it that I can use.

In my particular case, I had a pretty clear priority order for expansion. First was towards Glebsig to my east, my nearest neighbor (albeit still relatively far away). I could see that he was also getting bottled up by the Elaamid Blessed Mandate to his east, so if I could contain him, he would be hobbled for the rest of the game. I poured my Influence into that push, and managed to lock him up. And then, I was reminded of a very unpleasant fact: your enemies will totally try to build outposts behind your borders! Even though it would result in non-contiguous territory for him, he sent some constructions ships through my chokepoint. Fortunately, closing borders ended that adventure pretty quickly.

UNfortunately, though, there was a way around this. As noted before, I'd completely neglected my military, dumping all my alloys into new Science Ships and Construction Ships. And so, when my Gateway invaders destroyed my fleet, I became Pathetic even to the Glebsig weaklings. They magnanimously guaranteed my independence. Then, a few years later, they canceled that guarantee. No big deal, except canceling a guarantee automatically creates a Truce between two empires... and a Truce allows both parties to ignore Closed Borders! Suddenly I had Glebsig ships sailing back into my territory again, making a beeline for an unclaimed system with habitable planets.

Fortunately I still had a construction ship in the area; because they're so slow and I was expanding in three directions, I made a total of three and would just park the ones I wasn't currently using. But it was quite a race between my ship and Glebsig's. I would charge in ahead of him and start building an Outpost just before he started. Fortunately, he would also start right after me and spend months building it, only to lose it when I finished first. There were a few times when I wasn't sure where he was going, and it was pretty intense to open up the star map, try to anticipate which hyperlane he was steering towards, and try to get there in front of him. After some time, though, I eventually claimed the necessary systems near our border and kept him bottled up inside; from what I can see, the AI will claim within a few hops of a border (including a navigable wormhole or gateway), but won't claim further than that.

My expansion southwest was the next-most-urgent. Out here was the Democratic K'Taknor Commisariat, a Fanatic Militarist Democracy. I prioritized sending an Envoy there for peaceful relations. Here, my goal for a chokepoint wasn't just to block expansion, but to keep our border as narrow as possible: Militaristic empires have much higher Border Friction than other empires, and I wasn't at all prepared for a war. They had more options for expansion than Glebsig did so they made a more leisurely march in my direction and I made more rapid progress down towards them. I ended up not pushing as far in as I could have: claiming one more system would have still given me a choke point, and a rump tail of two more systems to claim, but also would have meant 5 shared hyperlanes between us (from that chokepoint out to their other systems), unlike the 1 we ended up with.

The longest expansion, both physically and chronologically, was to the Cirrulan Nation to my southeast. The Cirrulans had a ton of space to expand, and even now are technically larger than me. Because this was such a long drive, I identified a good three or four potential chokepoints between us, but I was able to get all the way down to the closest one. This also meant securing a disabled Gateway, another nice bonus for me.

One thing I hadn't really appreciated in my earlier games was that Fallen Empires are also de-facto chokepoints: not only a natural border to keep you from expanding, but they also block rival empires from expanding through them, too. I ended with two on my borders: the Thek Olak Archivists were in my southeast, above Cirrulan but not sharing a border with them, and forming a buffer between me and Elaamid. More intriguingly, the Ishni Shard, a Fanatic Militarist fallen empire, was far to my west. This was a positively luxurious expansion opportunity, with the shortest path taking over a dozen systems between my borders and their, with more spur trails off to the side, and absolutely no other rival empires in a position to compete for it.

My expansion was helped by my Traditions. In my earlier games I'd always chosen a tree, maxed it out, taken the Ascension Perk, and then chosen a new tree. But, a lot of really great early-game bonuses are scattered between multiple trees, so in this game I mixed-and-matched between Discovery and Expansion. I think my overall order was something like this:

  1. Discovery tree unlocked (faster Anomaly research and Map the Stars edict for faster survey speed and anomaly discovery chance).
  2. Discovery: To Boldly Go for faster survey speed.
  3. Expansion tree unlocked (faster Colony development).
  4. Expansion: Reach For The Stars for cheaper Outposts.
  5. Expansion: Colonization Fever for more pops on new colonies.
  6. Expansion: A New Life for faster pop growth.
Then I finish the remaining Discovery traditions to boost my research, the One Vision perk to speed future Unity, finish the remaining Expansion traditions to help with sprawl and growth, and the Technological Ascendency perk to boost science. I'm pretty happy with how this turned out and will probably follow a similar route for future games, unless I decide to opt for a more conquering-oriented game.

After this I return to fully completing each Tradition before moving on to the next. Like my game as a whole, I initially focus on research, then on economy/infrastructure, and finally on military. There's useful stuff in every tree, and in practice there's usually a pretty clear priority for what to take next. Diplomacy becomes useful after you've met lots of other civs, Prosperity is good once your cities are large, Harmony is never essential but always useful, Domination is good once you have rulers near the level cap, and Supremacy is great if you're planning war.

So far I haven't encountered the awesome "Someone Loves Us" quest chain, but did get a really cool early-game quest chain about a secret cult of traitors. I'm not sure if it's tied to the Galactic Doorstep origin; I don't think the text ever references it, but I haven't seen it in any of my Prosperous Unification games. Anyways, it's a really well-designed quest that pushes you to explore certain systems and take on some early-game combat, and eventually rewards you with a Battleship, which can be really game-changing in the early game.

On the downside, this was my first game where the Precursors did not give me Fen Habbanis III; I wound up with a ton of Unity and a bunch of extra resources in the system, but no planet at all. It was still worth doing, but man, the loss of a Ecumenopolis stings. But, unlike my previous game where I was stuck in a small space for a long time, here I've been able to directly colonize well over a dozen planets, and so far (~2350) I have plenty of space left to peacefully expand before worrying about overpopulation. 

Speaking of expansion: I did too much, too quickly in this game. Again, I'm making a concerted effort to grow my pops as large and quickly as possible, so I've been trying to get colonies off the ground ASAP. But, in my second wave of expansion, I had three colonies all going at the same time, which really tanked my Food and Consumer Goods. I've never had trouble with Food before and it was a little jarring to have too little of it instead of way way too much. I had to deviate from my carefully planned economy, throwing random Agricultural Districts and Civilian Industries on whatever planets happened to have free building slots at the moment. It took many decades to get my economy back under control. Fortunately, the Galactic Market was available to plug the gaps: I was running a huge surplus of Minerals throughout the game and frequently hitting the storage gap, so I would sell a ton of those, buy food and supplies, and do it again in a few months. My new rule of thumb is to only build a new colony if I have less than two current colonies, and am running surpluses on both food and consumer goods.

But, I do wonder now if maybe it was good after all that I expanded so quickly. Once I had that chunk of colonies fully developed, I catapulted into first place in Population in the galaxy, and soon after steadily rose towards the top of the Relative Power ranking. That might have happened regardless, but maybe the earlier pop growth makes up for the economic pinch of that transition period.

Since then, my colonization has been more consistent and less worrisome; I'm more limited now by the Influence to add undeveloped planets to my borders, and by the time I'm ready to colonize a new planet, previous ones are nearly developed.

One thing I'm doing a little differently this time around is beelining for Gaia Worlds. In my successful Earth game, I followed a pretty normal Terraforming trajectory: terraforming uninhabited planets into Continental planets, then later retrofitting previously-settled non-Continental planets to be Continental, then restoring Mars to be Continental, and, much later, picking the World Shaper ascension perk to turn everything into Gaia. The thing is, Gaia planets are so insanely good that you really want to get them ASAP. The 100% Habitability doesn't sound like much, but they also bring an unadvertised 10% boost to Happiness (leading to higher Stability, leading to higher production), and 10% to Resource production, overall making an amazing boost to your empire. Because of this, I didn't bother terraforming any early worlds or messing with habitability modifications or buffs. World Shaper is locked behind a rare tech, so I kept an eye open for that research path in Society. Once you have it, it just costs Energy and Time, both of which I have in spades. For new planets, I've been Gaiaizing them prior to colonizing, though I don't think there would be any downside to terraforming them after.

In this game I've also been thinking a little more carefully about planet specializations. I try to decide relatively early on whether a planet will focus on industry, in which case it will build Civilian Industries, Alloy Foundries and eventually the Ministry of Production; focus on science, which will build Research Labs and eventually a Research Institute; bureaucracy, which will build Administrative offices; or, occasionally, culture, which builds Autochthon Monuments, and eventually an Auto-curating Vault. Likewise, a planet will typically focus on a single resource type, like Minerals, and eventually build a boosting building, like a Mineral Purification Plant. I tend to stick one-off buildings like Gas Refineries and Synthetic Crystal Plants onto Bureaucratic worlds since I'm not giving up a multiplicative slot when doing so; I'm now finding, though, that this makes employment on those planets more challenging at higher populations, so I'm still working on the right balance.

But, I'm also feeling better now about breaking out of those specializations and retrofitting later on. Early in the game I had earmarked my capital Emariss as a research world; but I needed to build some Alloy Forges there early on to kickstart my expansion plans, and Civilian Industries to move on to my next world. I kept those buildings around as the planet grew, but once I'd maxed out my 20 building slots, I gradually went back and changed those into Research Labs. There's a short-term unemployment hit from this, but there's plenty of time to retrain workers before proceeding. Likewise, during my colonization crunch I had an all-hands-on-deck phase of all planets building Agriculture districts willy-nilly; now that there's more than enough food again, those one-off districts are being repurposed for more productive uses, while my few agriculture specializing worlds focus on their job.

One of the interesting mechanical aspects of Stellaris is how many things in the game have fixed costs, while others have scaling. This is probably most obvious early on with Leader hiring: early in the game, getting 200 Energy seems like an almost insurmountable problem, and you have to choose very carefully who you recruit, because you'll be stuck with them for a long time. By the end game, though, leaders still cost 200 Energy (possibly modified by Policies, but still around that), which is nothing when you're storing 100k energy. So you think nothing at all about firing a leader who acquires an undesirable trait, or cycling through your pool to get a quality you want. Similarly, building stuff feels kind of expensive and time-consuming in the early game, but spending 300 Minerals to replace a district is nothing. 

I'm now past an inflection point in my game, where I've researched all non-repeating Physics and Engineering technologies and most Society ones, running high surpluses, have plenty of Admin Cap and room to expand, and well over 350 Naval Capacity. I'm pretty dominant in the Galactic Community, thanks in large part to the 5 Envoys I have there, further augmenting my already-significant Diplomatic Weight. Those envoys served me well in the early game, and I avoided any unwanted wars; the Pious Anathurian Theocracy tried to start something about 50 years ago with claiming my systems, but I buttered them back up, and now I could crush them if I wanted to. Of course, as a Pacifist empire I don't really want to.

I'm not sure exactly what my next steps will be. My mid-term goal is to conquer the Ishni Shard and take their awesome planets and adjacent systems, but their fleet power is still Overwhelming at the moment and it will take some time to get there. For quite a while I've wanted to form a Federation with the Neborite Authority, the second-strongest non-AI civ in the galaxy and fellow Fanatic Xenophiles, but they've been standoffish due to my restrictive War Policy. I do want to get in a Federation and level it up before the Crisis. Funnily enough the Pious Theocracy and Commonality of Mekon did invite me to their Federation, which is the one I was vaguely planning to fight against. I'm now wondering whether to start a Federation with some weaker Pacifist empires, which would be much less advantageous to me but a lot easier to get going and probably still beneficial in the long run.

This game will keep me busy for quite a while longer as it's only around 2370, but I'm already mulling over possible changes to make in future games. One thing I'm contemplating is specializing my species as I specialize planets. As a Xenophile empire with a lot of Migration Treaties, I have a ton of options for which species to put on new planets. Before I had Gaia worlds I would choose whichever one had the highest Habitability; now I just put my birds everywhere. But, it would be better to pick species based on their traits, like Intelligent species for research planets, Agrarian species for farming planets, and so on.

And, speaking of Habitability, one thing that I'm wondering now for my current game is whether to take on the Nonadaptive malus in order to add more beneficial traits to my main species. I believe that Nonadaptive species will still get 100% habitability on Gaia worlds, making it a basically free perk. With my Society tree basically all researched, now might be a good time to try that out.

I think that's it for now! We'll see how much longer this Pacifist ethic of mine lasts; I think I can easily bait Ishni into a war when I'm ready for it, and of course the Crisis won't care what my policy is, but time will tell whether there's any conflict with the mundane empires sharing my galaxy.

Monday, November 02, 2020

Baldur's Gate 3: Everyone Is Evil

I think I'm at a good pausing point now with my early access BG3 run. I've finished the first major quest chain, reached Level 4, and struck out with my intended love interest. I may push on to the end of the current content, but right now I'm leaning towards calling it done for this run and waiting for a major future update, or the actual final release; I'm trying not to get too invested in this particular character since I know they'll be wiping the saves at some point.

So, my overall impressions? It's definitely an Early Access experience and not as polished as the post-release Larian games I've played before, but I knew that early on. It has some bones that are really exciting, and it seems like it will scratch an itch for me. If you imagine a cross between Dragon Age: Origins and Divinity Original Sin 2, you'll have a really good idea of what this game plays like.

A lot of my current complaints are things that I'm 100% sure will get fixed in future patches. The inventory system is, uh, pretty bare-bones, without the ability to sort items; they've had that in other games, so I'm sure sorting is on its way. Rogues can't disarm traps, making the "trap disarming kits" you find useless. Most cinematics are pretty janky, but the ones in the opening sequence are great, so hopefully the rest will be updated to that quality.

Other complaints are things I'm resigned to. The looting system, the bane of my existence in nearly every RPG, is bigger and more bloated and more time-consuming than ever. Also, it's 2020, and we still don't have a way to highlight lootable containers. Both of those have been true in the other Larian games I've played so I think they're deliberate choices, just not choices I like.

And there's the stuff that's been inherent to D&D for ages, like Vancian magic. Particularly as low-level characters, your wizard can easily spend all of his spell slots in a single combat encounter, and then need to hit things with a stick for the rest of the day, or else you'll need to run back to camp and sleep to get the spells back. I actually avoided sleeping for quite a long time, since story-wise it sounded like I was on a pretty severe timer, but that turned out to not quite be the case, and I probably would have enjoyed it more if I'd indulged in camp visits more often. (There are also some critical plot events and companion conversations that can only be triggered in your camp, giving another reason for more-frequent visits.)  I do like how they've added a Short Rest option that gives some HP and recharges a few martial abilities. And the number of spell scrolls you loot are pretty generous, so I need to remind myself to make use of those when I'm out of magic for the day.

A few technical things: After dropping my graphics quality setting and disabling the Steam overlay, the game has been running much more smoothly for me. Every once in a while it will freeze for a couple of seconds, but it always recovers. Losing the Steam overlay does mean far fewer screenshots to share, sorry about that. The game looks fine at the lower setting but I do see the difference. There's a decent chance I'll upgrade my PC in the not too distant future to run Cyberpunk, and if so I'll be interested to see what BG3 looks like in all its ultra-quality, stutter-free glory.

I think that's it for complaints! On to the good stuff:

I really dig the combat. I'm not totally looped into the fan community, but the main complaint I've heard from old-school BG fans is the loss of Real-Time With Pause for a turn-based combat system. The main argument for RTWP is "it helps trash fights go so much quicker!" The main counter-argument is "It's better to just not have trash fights to begin with!" I'm solidly in the second camp, and this mostly delivers. Compared to BG1/BG2, fights are generally more challenging, unique, have distinct mechanics and goals. It isn't as finely tuned as DOS2, and it isn't quite as hard; again, some of that may be due to this being in EA, but even where it is now I'm highly enjoying the combat.

The most unique thing about combat in DOS 1/2 was environmental effects, where, like, you could fire a lightning bolt into a puddle of water and zap all the enemies inside it, or freeze it to make a slippery surface that would cause them to trip and fall, or ignite a barrel of oil to create a huge fireball, and so on. Those same mechanics are present in BG3, but it seems to be a lesser focus; fights rarely seem to be built around environmental mechanics the way they were in the DOS games. But there are a bunch of new elements that I really love. Going back to environmental things, you can dip a weapon into an effect to apply that effect; the most common example is dipping a weapon (like an arrow) into a flame source (torch, candle, firepit, etc.) to turn it into a flaming arrow that deals an extra 1D6 Fire damage. You can also damage objects in the environment; I was thrilled during one underground fight what I realized that I could shoot the stalactite high up above the cavern, causing it to crash down and deal damage to all enemies below me. The single most satisfying thing, though, is kicking enemies. Doing this pushes them back a short distance; if they're near a ledge, then they will fall down, taking fall damage based on the height they fell. You can one-shot some foes this way, as a Bonus Action! It's insanely fun.

I'll also call out exploration as a real highlight. The maps are extremely well-done, and particularly in the outside areas it's a blast to find hidden nooks and crannies, which often contain some rewarding loot. The ability to jump and climb is new to Baldur's Gate, and adds a great new dimension to the exploration aspect of the game.


The dialogues can feel a little weird sometimes. Your protagonist is mostly voiceless, which is fine; unlike other similar games, where your PC is always the main speaker in dialogues, here it is whatever character you had selected. The other person's dialogue is usually identical no matter who they're speaking to, but sometimes you'll unlock unique response lines based on your selected character's class or background. It seems like this shouldn't work, but, as you eventually realize, all of your party members share the same salient characteristic, so the dialogue generally does make sense even when it isn't delivered to "you".

One concept that I really love is the skill checks, which most often come in dialogues: instead of being a flat requirements, you roll a D20 based on the challenge rating and modified by your skill to try and pass it. So, you might need to pass a Deception check to trick a guard, or an Animal Handling check to calm a bear, or an Acrobatics check to show off your moves. The UI for this is really nice. Unfortunately, I personally am allergic to "failing" in conversations, so I almost always reload if I miss a roll, unless it's clearly a trivial flavor thing. 

I do wish that you could swap in party members for specific skill checks. Especially since, like, I can see Shadowheart standing right there next to me, so it seems like I should be able to ask her to handle that bear instead of trying it myself. Sometimes you can exit a conversation, switch to another character, start the conversation again, and then use the character who's actually suited for it; but other times you only have one shot, and if I don't like the outcome? You'd better believe that's a reload, baby.

There are also some behind-the-scenes GM rolls to see if your character noticed something. These can be Lore checks that provides you additional information during a conversation, or Perception checks while exploring that can reveal hidden objects or traps. Those are nice.


Going back to the title of this post: After playing the game for many hours, the single most striking thing to me is how pretty much everyone in your party seems to be evil. There doesn't seem to be a traditional alignment chart in this game so it isn't necessarily canonical, but that's the main thing I'm taking away from it. I'm really curious why that is. It could be a deliberate reaction to the alignments of vanilla BG2, which famously was tilted in favor of a Good-aligned party. It might be that evil characters are more interesting, or more fun to write. Or it might have been a way to pursue a more "dark" tone for this game.

Breaking it down: You have Lae'zel, who is a Gith; she may not technically be Evil since she's from the planes, but her whole thing is denying compassion to anyone, swiftly and mercilessly killing your enemies, and showing no patience for any weakness, so it's de-facto evil. Shadowheart is a cleric of Shar, which, yeah, that's pretty evil; she's less in-your-face aggressive than Lae'zel, but will strongly disapprove of any altruistic actions on your part. Astarion is a bloodsucking vampire, and an aristrocrat who despises the common people. Wyll seems like a good guy, but based on the cover art and his permanent buff status I'm going to go out on a limb and say that he consorts with demons. Gale is the one guy who doesn't seem to mind when you do good things, and the only person who I really got along with; even there, he's #mysterious and travels with mephits, and I wouldn't be slightly shocked to learn that he's tied up in something untoward.

Basically, I've really been missing Mazzy, Keldorn, Imoen, Aerie, or any of the other companions who liked helping people.

It does seem like BG3 is giving a lot of options for an evil playthrough; the major quest chain I just finished seems to have an entire alternate solution where you side with The Bad Guys and wipe out The Good Guys. I'm not usually tempted by that stuff in games, but I am impressed when developers include that much variety. It is less tempting when, as here, it's such a black-and-white good-or-evil choice; for me, it's a lot more compelling to choose between two shades of gray, or between pragmatists and idealists or some other thing. But, yeah.

I am increasingly thinking that in my next playthrough, I might just bite the bullet and roll an evil character. I've been talking about doing that for decades in Baldur's Gate and never have been able to do it. One strong incentive to do it in this game is to be able to pursue the romances. As noted above, the two lady love interests both despised me for my do-gooding ways, and I was locked out of romance options for both. Which is its own whole separate interesting thing; I've thought a lot (too much!) about romance in video games, and have written a lot about how characters should have more agency, and should respond to the actions of the player instead of automatically falling in love with them; I'm now experiencing what it's like when those characters don't approve of my actions. (Of course, it's entirely possible that there's a more long-term arc here, like Viconia in BG2; again, Early Access!)

After realizing I'd whiffed the romances, I hopped onto the wiki to see what it would have taken to pursue them, and was flummoxed to discover that there was another romance option... who will only join you if you take the evillest path of wiping out The Good Guys! It's a choice. 

One last final nag: I was pretty pleased with myself with how I handled the end of this quest chain, with some sneaking and trickery and stuff to assassinate bad-guy leaders without alerting the whole area. But, as soon as the last leader was dead, the entire area turned hostile to me. Which was annoying, since it's specifically the opposite of what everyone said would happen when the leaders had died, and the opposite of what I'd observed happen in previous fights. Fortunately, Quick Travel is available everywhere, so I was able to skip back to where I wanted.


Overall, I'm having a lot of fun. I think I'll wait a bit for the next major update and maybe try my hand at a bard or something.

I'd mentioned in my first post that BG3 doesn't really feel much like BG1 or BG2, and I still feel that way. There are occasional flashes: the music, particularly over the title menu, is nicely evocative of the franchise's sound. Of course, we aren't actually in Baldur's Gate yet, and there might be more familiar touches still to come. Even if this ends up being DOS3, though, that would still be a very good thing.

Tuesday, October 20, 2020


When I find an author whose work I enjoy, I'm tempted to read as little of their work as I can, as slowly as I can, to drag out a supply of fresh good novels as long as possible. So it's a little unusual that I would so quickly return to Liu Cixin so quickly, but here I am, just a month after finishing The Three Body Problem and wrapping up the sequel, The Dark Forest. Part of that might be because of COVID focusing my attention, part might be the sci-fi kick I've been on lately, but I think the most compelling thing is just that 3BP was a damn fine book, and I wanted to read another one.

MINI SPOILERS for The Dark Forest, MEGA SPOILERS for The Three Body Problem

I put this book on hold at the library the moment I finished the first one, but I also was a little skeptical about just how Liu would manage to follow the first book. 3BP had so many wonderful tricks that seemed impossible to repeat. Even though it was nominally a science-fiction book, it opens during the Cultural Revolution and feels like a historical fiction novel for a long time, and then like a mystery novel for quite a while. It isn't until near the end of the book that we finally learn what the Three Body Problem is and who is behind the events of the story. But now that we do know, how can the mystery be maintained? I was curious if the series would transition into a more typical sci-fi novel with space battles, or if he would try to repeat the historical and mystery aspects again.

As it turns out, he does neither, and instead segues into still another genre. Most of this book feels like a political thriller, on a global scale grander than anything this side of seveneves. Earth is nominally united against the Trisolaran threat, but old divisions still exist, and we see the tacit struggles occurring between West and East, global North and global South, between established industries and nascent ones, between various ideologies. Political capital is gathered and exploited and expended and lost as various leaders and strategies rise and fall.

There is a pretty solid break from the previous book, both in the structure and tone, and also just in the characters. Most of the major people from 3BP are missing in TDF or just have brief cameos, with Shi Qiang the one major recurring character. But it also adds to the sense of scope and scale of the story: this is an enormous crisis gripping all of humanity for centuries, so of course different people will be involved at different times.

There is a nice mystery aspect that continues in this book, though. The mystery in 3BP mostly revolved around the titular game, what was killing the scientists, and how it related to the Red Coast Base; it's a mystery about an adversary. In TDF, the mystery is about the allies. The single most creative and exciting idea in this novel is the "Wallfacers", four men who have been selected to create and carry out secret plans to thwart the Trisolaran invaders.

Doing a bit of recap for my own benefit: At the end of 3BP, we learned that the Trisolaran fleet is en route to the Solar System, with the stated goal of destroying all of humanity and settling on Earth. Their technology is vastly superior to ours, but they are concerned about mankind's fast progress: The Trisolarans have been more advanced than us for hundreds of thousands of years, but in the last 200 years we have progressed more rapidly than they had in thousands of years, and if that trend continues then by the time they arrive (around 2400 AD) humanity will have become vastly more powerful than them and easily able to crush the invasion.

It will take centuries for the Trisolarans to arrive, but thanks to their mastery of subatomic physics, they are able to manipulate events on Earth at the microscopic level. (Think quantum entanglement.) That isn't enough to take macroscopic action like assassinating a head of state, but through their sophons they are able to spy on humanity, seeing and hearing everything that takes place; and they can interfere with subatomic experiments, thwarting the efforts of particle accelerators and colliders to plumb the mysteries of neutrinos and other fundamental elements of the universe. Thanks to this, they effectively place a lock on humanity's progress: we can continue developing the existing technology we have, but entire fields of study are closed off, including quantum research (and its computational advantages), strong nuclear forces, and so on.

But, there's one thing the Trisolarans can't do: they can't peer inside our minds. They can observe what a human says and what he does, but the "why" remains a mystery to them. So, the Wallfacers exploit this weakness. They carry out their plans in plain sight, but everyone, human and trisolaran alike, is aware that there are other angles and wrinkles to those plans, and are constantly kept guessing what their true aim is.

This all ends up being incredibly fun, with wheels within wheels, as we try to guess what the various Wallfacers are up to.


Hines is probably the most interesting Wallfacer to me. When reading the detail about how Keiko's eyes flashed open as soon as she was going to sleep, I guessed that she was his Wallbreaker, though I still wasn't sure what the implications of that were. One random idea I had was that, since Luo Ji was chosen because Trisolaris was scared of him, Hines might have been chosen if the PDC know that Keiko was a member of the ETO. In this scenario, part of Hines' deception could have been feeding misinformation through Keiko back to Trisolaris. Or, another thought was that maybe Hines was the Wallbreaker all along and Keiko was secretly the Wallfacer. Of course, neither of those scenarios is true, but it was fun to think about! So many of the plot twists in this story were wild, so it felt like no possibility was out of bounds.

Even at the end of the novel, I'm still not totally clear on exactly what Hines' plan was and what its status is. Where are the sleeper agents? At first I thought that they had fully permeated society and implanted the mental seal on everyone, but that doesn't seem to be the case, given how virulently everyone reacts against Escapism near the end. And I don't think it had a major impact on the actions of the ships escaping the teardrop assault, as the main actors there were all hibernators who had gone to sleep prior to the seal's invention. It feels like this might be something coming back in the third book.

Of course, Liu ends up being the most successful Wallfacer of the four. His "spell" seemed simultaneously obvious and opaque. I was certain that some greater power would respond to his message by wiping out the planet he indicated, and that is in fact what happened. But I wasn't expecting the cosmic sociological theory behind it, which turned out to be shocking and fascinating. I'd thought that it would be some sort of higher-dimensional entity, somewhat like when the Trisolarans summon the sophons in the previous book, or if, like, a colony of ants were to form an arrow pointing at a thing they didn't like, and some giant human then casually destroyed that thing. But it turns out to be a matter of numbers rather than a matter of scale, which is really interesting to think about. After reading Liu's afterword to 3BP, I thought he was probably too pessimistic about encountering alien life, but the explanation in this book is definitely sobering, and makes one reconsider the wisdom of our constant broadcasting.

This is, of course, the Dark Forest of the title. I spent most of the book wondering what that referred to. Late in the novel, after Liu reawakens in the future, we learn about the tree structure of the underground city, so for a while I thought the "Forest" referred to the city, and mused that "Dark" could refer to it being underground, or engaged in sinister activity, or some future event that would cut out the limitless power from the city and plunge it into eternal gloom. But, yeah, the title ends up referring to the entire universe, so that's pretty cool. It's another thing that reminded me of 3BP in how late we learn about something huge that causes us to rethink the entire galaxy.

Besides the epic distance and physical scale of the book, the span of time is also really epic and intriguing. I almost immediately thought of A Canticle for Leibowitz, which also had multiple-century jumps through time and radical changes in the social and technological order. TDF has a lot more interweaving between the eras, though, thanks to hybernation technology. Though, now that I think of it, the Lazarus/Benjamin character in ACfL could perhaps be playing a similar role, but without offering a point-of-view perspective. And the hybernation of humans could have some parallels with the Trisolaran cycle of dehydration and rehydration.


Liu kept the magic going for the second book, which is really impressive, given how moved I was by the first one. I'm really curious where they'll go from here in the third book! It would be a fairly satisfying ending on its own, with a vision for the future sketched out, some cool callbacks to the previous book and the major characters being in appropriate places. But there are definitely some loose threads out there (Garden of Eden, anyone?), as well as the bigger implications of sociology, so I can see the potential for the stakes to, incredibly, get even higher. I've already put the third book on hold and am very eager to find where it goes!

Thursday, October 08, 2020

Toupée's Door

I haven't done one of these in a while, but this is just a quick note that I'm in the Early Access of Baldur's Gate 3! I'm pretty impressed by the little I've seen so far.

As a general policy, I almost always eschew Early Access for games. I think the last EA I played was Sunless Sea six years ago. My usual philosophy is that I only get one chance to play a game for the first time, and I'd like that first time to be as smooth and polished and bug-free as possible.

So why am I in EA for this? Well, BG2 is possibly my favorite game of all time (with the possible exception of Fall from Heaven 2). BG3 isn't made by BioWare; but the old late-90s BioWare doesn't exist anymore anyways. Instead, it's made by Larian Studios, who have made some of my favorite recent RPGs, including the absolutely fantastic Divinity Original Sin 2. Those two factors give me a lot more confidence than a lot of EA games do. The final deciding factor for me was that playing early would hopefully help me avoid any potential story spoilers floating around the Internet and experience it first-hand myself.

I'm just a couple of hours of playtime into it so far, so this definitely isn't a review, but some initial first impressions:

It is definitely taxing my system. I last upgraded my PC for Dragon Age 3, which coincidentally was also about 6 years ago. The GTX 970 I got then has served me very well for years, smoothly running The Witcher 3 and other higher-end games, but it's chugging for this one. I may manually adjust my settings down to try and get a smoother experience here. But I've been thinking for a while that I'll probably need an upgrade for Cyberpunk 2077 anyways, so I might start researching a new build sooner rather than later.

The impression I've gotten so far from the few previews I've seen is that this game looks like Dragon Age: Origins, and that's been borne out so far. Particularly the conversations and cinematics fit that mold: your protagonist is voiceless in dialogue (but has reactions outside it), and there's a nice level of zoomed-in detail that I associate with that game. Actual gameplay feels a lot like the DOS games, particularly movement, item interaction and looting. It's missing telekinesis, which I think helps this game feel much more grounded than the DOS games. And it still has the environmental effects as DOS, but at least so far they're less of a focus. On the other hand, it doesn't really remind me much of BG1/BG2, at least so far. Which is honestly OK. It would probably be worse for someone trying and failing to replicate it than to focus on making their own new thing good.

Character creation is awesome. One sign of a good RPG is that I burn most of my first night just on making my character. It's funny to me that I can make a better Qunari in BG3 than I could in DA3. Chargen uses slots instead of sliders, which I personally find a lot nicer and easier to use: you don't, like, adjust your brow width, you just pick what kind of head you want.

One of my perennial hobbyhorses is the presentation of gender in RPGs. RPGs are in a kind of awkward state now where you're forced to make a binary gender choice at the start of the game and play a cisgendered PC, but modern RPG worlds are increasingly filled with transgendered, nonbinary, or otherwise queer characters that your PC can meet and gawk at. The only studio that really does something cool with player gender is Failbetter Games, and they don't need to worry about 3D models or animation. At first blush, the BG3 creator is like all the others, starting with the fateful Venus-or-Mars toggle. But it's cool to see that this choice doesn't lock you out of anything! You can create a biological female with a masculine voice and a big bushy beard, or a hulking brute with lovely eyeshadow and long flowing hair.

Oh, and that hair! I would have murdered a room full of people to have this many long-hair options in DA3.

Anyways, I'm rolling with a normal (for me) cis character, but it's really cool to see this space opening up and developers allowing players a wider canvas to choose from in crafting their characters.

They are still in progress on adding classes. I think I want to play a Bard for my first full playthrough, but so far in EA I'm playing a Rogue and having a blast. I really love how many sub-classes and sub-races there are.

And... that will do it for now! I'll be very mindful of spoilers going forward, just wanted to share that I'm checking it out and having fun so far.

Monday, October 05, 2020

How To Vote

California obviously has a lot of challenges right now, but I still love this state and am glad and proud to be a Californian. One of the many virtues of this state is its robust vote-by-mail system. Like many states west of the Rocky Mountains, VBM is normalized and heavily practiced here, which is always good for democracy in general (higher participation, easier access to information) and is particularly good in a pandemic year.

This is "the big election", the Presidential year when turnout numbers will be highest and interest the strongest; but this ballot is actually quite a bit shorter than in previous years. Statewide California offices are filled in midterm elections, and while we do have a lot of propositions there aren't as many as from other years. Still, there's a lot of important stuff in there. And, without further ado, here is how I will vote!


Joseph R. Biden and Kamala D. Harris. Biden was not my first choice in the primary, but the choice here is really clear. A man with clear empathy and compassion in the office will be a balm after the last four years. I've been a decades-long admirer of Harris, and it's been great seeing her grow in stature on the national stage. I think she'll be up for the job she has to do.


Jackie Speier


Josh Becker


Kevin Mullen


Rod Hsiao


Maurice Goodman. It's a shame that Goodman and Mandelkern were forced into the same district, I would have happily supported either, but Goodman gets my nod.


Greg Land and Ligia Andrade Zuniga


Ann Schneider, Anders Fung, You You Xue


No. One of my general rules of thumb is to vote "Yes" on taxes and "No" on bonds. Taxes take money from everyone, often particularly the wealthy, to fund services for everyone. Bonds use the tax code to transfer money from the working class to the investing class. If this research is truly a priority for the state, we should budget it through the General Fund.




Yes. I would honestly prefer a clean repeal of Prop 13, and worry a little that this measure will make future reforms to the property tax harder. Still, it's a massive improvement on the status quo, and I'd rather succeed in passing Prop 15 than fail in repealing Prop 13. 


Yes. My other general rule of thumb on ballot initiatives is, when in doubt, I tend to vote in favor of initiatives that were placed on the ballot by the legislature, and against initiatives that were placed by voter signatures. One thing that I really like about this year's official voter information guide is that it also lists how many people voted "Aye" and "Nay" in the Assembly and Senate; when there's an overwhelming majority in favor of something, it increases my confidence that it's a good idea. (Because of our reckless over-use of constitutional amendments in the past, tons of basic things can't be done by the legislature, so they often need to kick things back to the voters to approve.) Anyways: This proposition makes sense, will align the public sector more with how the private sector has been working, and should help make things better!






Yes. This seems to be two mostly unrelated changes smooshed together into one measure. Letting seniors move to another house and keep their old property tax bill should be a good change all around: it lets seniors afford to make sensible changes like downsizing, should create some more liquidity in the infamously sluggish California real estate market, and generally promote the kind of turnover we see in the rest of the country. (But again: Just repeal Prop 13!) The more important thing is the back half, though, which closes a gross loophole that lets the wealthy pass massive assets along tax-free for all future generations. Particularly after reading Piketty, I'm all on board for breaking up permanent wealth.




Yes. See my vote for Prop 10 two years ago. I'm more unambiguously in favor now, partly because it seems likely we will see more natural decreases in rent prices in CA over the coming years (due to environmental and other factors), and also because I'm more radicalized now on the social utility of limiting profits.


Strong no. Crap like this has made me start to think that, when private companies pay hundreds of millions of dollars to pass constitutional amendments to benefit their bottom line (see also: every insurance-related initiative you've ever voted on), they should have to match that amount dollar-for-dollar into funding our schools or another worthy endeavors. Let's make that an initiative! Uber and all of its ilk who built their entire business models on evading taxation should get bent.


Yes. Though, to be fair, this is kind of like Prop 22 but funded by unions instead of private companies. Still, it's for a better cause.






Yes. I have a bad feeling about this one, though. It's been in the works for a while, and the timing turned out terrible, asking voters to approve it when transit ridership is at a (pandemic-induced) decades-long low. But I've been pleasantly surprised in the past at locals stepping up to support public transit, and hope to be surprised again!


Oh, and I almost forget: Let's grade my performance from the primary!

Honestly, not much there to react to. I still think Warren would be a better nominee and President, but I also am getting increasingly excited by the prospect of her writing legislation in a trifecta federal government. Imagining her as the chairwoman of the Senate Banking Committee, crafting bank regulations, makes me giddy. She'd also be a fantastic Attorney General to revive the agency's moribund antitrust enforcement wing.

I don't pay as much attention as I should to my state representatives, but it was really cool to see that Kevin Mullen is responsible for two propositions on the ballot: 19, which should restore more sanity to our housing tax system, and 18, which extends the franchise to younger voters.

That's it for this election! I am so exhausted by politics of the last four years. A big part of me is looking forward to, hopefully, things being calmer going forward. But, of course, that isn't how politics works. We'll still need to deal with the root causes of all the problems we're facing. The endless fires are a result of global climate change. Massive inequalities are a result of our unfair tax system. The pandemic is definitely not helped by our terrible private health care system. The ongoing and consequence-free state murder of black citizens is a result of institutionalized racism. All these, and many more, problems will require big, ambitious, hard changes with lots of money and influence supporting the status quo. No matter who or what wins at every level, we'll need to keep on pressure and keep pushing to ensure that necessary changes happen. The good news is, the new crop of people should be vastly more receptive to such pressure than the previous set.

Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Fiat Lux

Continuing in a science-fictiony vein, I just finished reading A Canticle for Leibowitz. I've seen the book on various lists for most of my life, and was vaguely aware that it was science fiction but knew nothing about it. It turned out to be a really good read: engaging and thoughtful, with some real concerns that speak to the darkness of our times without wallowing in it.


The book starts off roughly 600 years in the future, after a global thermonuclear war has destroyed virtually all of civilization. It's focused on one tiny pocket of society left, a monastery in the desert of former American Southwest. While Rome was destroyed in the war, the Catholic Church was not, and, much like during the Dark Ages, the monks have helped preserve the knowledge of a former era.

The dated technology of this book is unintentionally fascinating. The monks pore over the secrets of carbon copies and blueprints. For Walter Miller, these are "modern" and top-of-the-line tech. From our perspective in 2020, though, they are incredibly ephemeral: they just existed for a couple of decades between older and newer technology. While that does date the novel, I think it actually serves to underline some of its big themes: the relationship between the medium and the message, the fragility of recorded knowledge, how strange our cultural assumptions seem outside of our current context.

The overall concept of monks + science is really cool and compelling; the book most recently came back on my radar after reading a comparison of this book to Neal Stephenson's Anathem, which envisions a  secular monastery with a somewhat similar focus. The novel strikes a really nice balance of the personal and the political, with detailed looks into the lived experiences of individual characters, then telescoping out from that to show the broader landscape in which they live. You really viscerally feel Francis's ordeals in the desert, the heat and the thirst and the cracked lips and desperate hunger. And you gradually realize that this desert is about as good as it gets in the 2500s: at least he isn't being chased by mutants or completely starving to death.


But it gets even cooler when it telescopes out again, not just in space but also in time. We've been progressing day by day and year by year through Francis's life, seeing him grow up and start feeling the aches of middle age. And then we abruptly jump another 600 years into the future: a new world, but one that grew directly out of the old one. I found this incredibly powerful; the laser-like focus on Francis makes us keenly feel his passing, and also abruptly shifts perspective, simultaneously showing how important and how unimportant he was in the grand scheme. You can see the huge arc of history, which is created by humans and which they don't see in their own lifetimes.

I've only encountered similar time-skips a few other times. Neal Stephenson is a great example; not in Anathem, but Seveneves did something very similar. Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut gets a similar awe-inspiring sense of scale, though his actual narrative is mostly rooted in the present.

The jump in time does a lot of things, but one is highlighting what is important and what isn't. In the first section of the book, Brother Jeris gains status and influence by making the abbey's scriptorum more efficient, cutting back on the time for art projects and instead directing the monks to craft lamp shades that can be sold to benefit the monastery. In contrast, Brother Fingo "wastes" his time with a woodcarving of the (not-yet-sainted) Leibowitz, which all the other brothers find odd and a little unsettling. But, 600 years in the future, we see all the generations of faithful who have loved Fingo's icon, drawing solace and meaning and inspiration from it. Brother Jeris's lampshades are completely forgotten. It's nice to get another perspective on what lasts, what matters: Nobody remembers the name of either brother, but one of their works lives on in the lives of others.

The second section of the book sees civilization starting to rebuild, and it's not a pretty sight: cruel and ruthless warlords create security and order, spreading civilization and terror at the same time. The monks have long labored to protect the "Memorabilia", the collection of all written records from the 20th century that they were able to rescue from the Simplification. Now, their dream is at last close to fruition as a university is started and natural scientists are re-discovering principles of math and science; but those scientists are openly hostile towards not only their faith, but even concepts of humility and peace and mercy. A well-reasoned fear begins to seep in, that mankind has learned nothing from its mistakes and is missing an opportunity to rebuild itself on more humane lines.

I absolutely loved the first two sections of the book. The third section was fine. It's set another 600 years in the future, in the 3100s, as humanity has finally built itself back up to where it was in Miller's lifetime: Radio communication, nation-states, press conferences, highways and automobiles. It's even gone a little further, with self-driving cars, colony space ships. Oh, and it also has nuclear power. Again.

Throughout the book, I was mildly curious if Walter Miller was a Catholic or not. He's definitely knowledgeable about the church and generally portrays the monks and hierachy sympathetically, though fortunately not universally so. But lots of other authors, like Stephenson and Cather, are knowledgeable and sympathetic when writing about religion without personally being believers. By the end of the third section, I became pretty convinced that he is Catholic, mostly due to what felt like an interminably long sub-plot where Abbot Zerchi debates with Doctor Cors over euthanasia for people dying of terminal radiation poisoning. I strongly favor Cors' perspective and found these exchanges grating, but I did like how the Green Star doctor was presented: he isn't just a straw man for us to hate or who puts forward flawed arguments, but a thoughtful, likeable and very well-intentioned secular humanist who's just coming at this from a completely different angle.

Looking back over the twelve centuries of history in the book, it's interesting to see how the focus of the monastery has shifted over time. It starts out primarily worried about preserving knowledge; interestingly, though, it isn't a pure-minded mission, and the Abbot is already very political, more worried about how revelations will play out with New Rome than what they mean in themselves. Later, that focus on preserving knowledge shifts towards propagating knowledge. And in the end, the knowledge no longer seems relevant: their original mission fulfilled, the Abbot is mostly focused on what feel like more spiritual concerns. (Though spiritual concerns that are very rooted in the acts of flesh!) This progression makes me think of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. A world with more comfort and stability has the capacity to focus on more abstract and emotional systems.

But, the irony is that the civilized world actually has less stability, because its capacity for destruction is so much greater. Earlier generations of monks worried about barbaric tribes of mutants wiping out civilization; now they need to worry about civilization wiping out all life on planet Earth.

And so, they have to go beyond Earth. It's a somber and evocative thought. They are sending people into space, to avoid the physical destruction on earth, but that really isn't the point. They are sending along the Memorabilia, which may help provide a future lifeline for restarting civilization if the worst happens. And they are seeding a new Church: This is the part that struck me (a non-Catholic) as particularly stunning and ambitious, but the intent seems to be to establish a new Patriarchate. Three bishops, with the authority to name a new Cardinal, who can continue the lineage of the Catholic Church in outer space if all the hierarchy on Earth die in armageddon.

For me as a Protestant, it seems overly complex and convoluted: "Just read your bibles and pray! God's out in space, too." But it is impressive to think of this single organization lasting for four thousand years and continuing within the stars.


Like a lot of people, I've been wondering what value post-apocalyptic fiction has in our world today. We're living in the midst of a worldwide pandemic, here in California I've been breathing in smoke from endless wildfires for the last two months, a reality TV show host is the President, the Antarctic ice shelf is collapsing, the bees are dying... with all the disasters we're facing in the real world, do these nightmarish scenarios offer an escape, or a call to action?

A Canticle for Leibowitz is particularly interesting in that regard because its post-apocalyptic scenario is one that's mostly receded from our concern: written in the 50s, it saw doomsday coming from ICBMs, not climate change or plague. Personally, that makes it a little easier for me to stomach, since at least it's a different disaster than the ones in my newsfeed.

Each apocalypse is different, but they're all bad, and we'll face many of the same challenges when we come out the other side, if we do come out the other side. What to hold on to from our past that's worth keeping. How to rebuild. And, if we're very lucky, how to avoid the mistakes that brought us to ruin.

Sunday, September 27, 2020

Ah, Yes, "Reapers"

This is how the galaxy ends.


(This whole post probably counts as Minor Spoilers, but this isn't really a plot-heavy game, so don't worry about it much.)

I'd been vaguely aware that I could expect something called a "Crisis" before the end of the game. This seems like a nice mechanic to add some urgency and challenge to the endgame, much in the same way that the Armageddon Counter creates a global threat in Fall from Heaven 2. Like FfH2, your actions during the game will impact the crisis; FfH2 is more of a sliding scale, with events getting worse as the number ticks higher, while Stellaris is more like roulette, with the particular Crisis that you receive depending on what (if any) dangerous technologies you have researched.

In my case, I'd avoided the Robot research line for pretty much the entire game, so I didn't need to worry about that particular Crisis. But, I had eagerly researched Jump Drives, an awesome upgrade that lets you teleport to any other system within a radius rather than travel through hyperlanes. That was especially useful when dealing with Fallen Empires and the Gorf Serene Foundation and other empires that would refuse to open borders to me.

The Jump Drives, and later the Psionic Jump Drive, were super-useful. But, they did draw the attention of the Unbidden, extradimensional beings of pure energy who followed the signal of the drives into our universe. Once arriving, they determined that we were delicious snacks and announced that they would be eating us all.

In my game, they arrived over a primitive world named Trimus, a system I had previously claimed but not colonized. It lay immediately south of Ofeogliea. I had previously intended to use this system as a launching point for a hypothetical future war against the Yaanari Forerunners, and so I had heavily fortified this system, much like I'd done with Jillis before the First Gorf War. Ofeogliea now sported a Citadel, 23 fully-upgraded Defensive Platforms, five Gun Batteries and a variety of Buildings designed to debilitate enemy fleets.

The Unbidden arrived with a massive military force, and almost immediately moved north. I rushed my entire fleet into Ofeogliea. Fortunately I had mostly completed my Gateway network by now; my four primary Fleets were scattered across different Shipyards, but those all had Gateways and so did Ofeogliea, so we could get there in days rather than weeks or months. The Unbidden destroyed the citadel before all of my fleets arrived. We took heavy casualties, but managed to beat them off before they could attack the populated planet in the system.

That battle was a minor victory, but a very worrying one: I'd taken losses, and I could see that fresh Unbidden were continuing to pour in through the portal in Trimus. I'd need to take it down.

I sent my fleets back through the gateway for some quick repairs. While we were repairing, though, I saw that the Unbidden were on the move. This time they were headed south of Trimus, into undefended space. They were sailing with... I forget, maybe something like 300k military power, along with three Construction Ships. It seemed likely that the Construction Ships were for creating new Unbidden outposts... or even Starbases... or even (gulp) another Portal. That seemed like a huge risk.

Trimus, meanwhile, was defended by a fleet of about 70k and massive stationary defense of... maybe another 80k or so. My remaining fleets had a combined power of around 160k, slightly outnumbering the raw numbers in Trimus; but we were also wounded, with mostly-regenerated Shields but very low Armor and less Hull than I would like. It was a risk, but I saw the chance of smashing the portal and ending the invasion early before they could cause more damage.

I canceled the repairs, rushed my fleets back to Ofeogliea, and moved them all south, this time timing their travel through the hyperlane so they would arrive together. We engaged. As soon as the portal came under fire, their main fleet turned around and raced back towards Trimus, joining the fight again a few days later. Now, instead of a roughly 160k-135k advantage, I was at more like a 140k-450k disadvantage. And on enemy territory, with a tired and wounded fleet.

It was a massacre. I knew as soon as I saw the ships turning around that the battle was lost, but for some reason I just couldn't make myself retreat. Now that I think about it, it's probably because I'd never had to retreat before: I'd always carefully chosen my wars and battles so have the advantage, and so hadn't faced the prospect of certain defeat before. I stared grimly as my brave ships pressed on, firing everything they had into the maw of the implaccable extradimensional invaders. I felt like Grant at Cold Harbor. I failed to give the order to reatreat, and my entire navy was wiped out, with all four of my fleets now completely missing in action.

Adding further insult to mortal injury, in the middle of the battle I received a notification that I was in breach of galactic law. What?! I'm saving the galaxy from extradimensional invaders, and you're sending the bureaucracy after me?! I realized that it was because my losses were so severe that I was violating the Military Readiness doctrine to maintain a certain percentage of my naval capacity. I'd gone from full to 40% in a single engagement, ouch! (As a side note, this seems like a really odd policy at the galactic level. I tend to think of the Galactic Community as being like the United Nations, and the Federation as being more like NATO or the EU. It makes a ton of sense for NATO to require member states to maintain a certain size military, but it would be bizarre if the UN required, like, New Zealand or Angola to beef up their militaries. But, this is sci-fi fiction, and I guess I can imagine an alternate universe where the UN would do exactly that. Especially if there's a threat of extradimensional invaders!)

I did damage their ships somewhat, though. A fleet that had previously been lost during the defense of Ofeogliea, it had gone MIA but reappeared badly damaged at Xamarton. I repaired it and then rushed through the Gateway back to Ofeogliea to keep some presence there, while reinforcing the position. My numbers were small, but the Unbidden, and their Construction Ships, stayed put in Triumus, probably unwilling to leave the system.

The previous battles had left behind some Debris to be analyzed. This is a super-cool mechanic in Stellaris: after you fight an exotic enemy, they may leave behind debris. You can send a science ship to analyze it, which unlocks a new tech to research, and the more debris you find the more of a head start you have in researching it. I'd previously discovered stuff like Drilling Lasers from Mining Droids, which for the early game are a pretty potent weapon; and biological aliens like Space Amoeba can leave behind flagella you research to increase your sublight speed or regenerative tissue to create self-repairing hulls. In this case, I was able to learn about Antimatter Disintrigrators, a new best-in-class weapon.

But, something interesting: in reading the after-battle reports in Ofeogliea and Trimus, I noticed that my weapons was 0% effective against the Unbidden Armor. After some more investigation, realized that they didn't have any armor, just super-powerful shields and lots of hull. I had thought that the unlocked tech would be the secret to defeating them, which would be really cool; but instead, it's actually very IN-effective against them, since they don't have any armor to destroy.

I went into the Ship Designer and created some new ship designs, which I termed Unbidden Corvette, Unbidden Destroyer, Unbidden Cruiser and Unbidden Battleship. I loaded them down with anti-shield and anti-hull weaponry like the Stormfire Autocannon and Kinetic Artillery. I hadn't opened the Ship Designer since the tutorial in my very first, aborted game. I don't think I'll use it much in the future; as with non-marathon Civ, tech advances so fast relative to wars that it just doesn't seem the effort and tedium to plan and redesign ships every time you discover a new component. But in this particular case for the endgame it was amazing; and it might also be feasible when playing against other humans or with game settings to slow tech progress.

I canceled all my pending reinforcements and issued an order to retrofit all existing ships to the new designs. This took forever. I kept a careful eye on Trimus. A couple of times the Unbidden sent fleets north to pound Ofeogliea. Rebuilding a Citadel can take decades, so I no longer had real permanent defenses in the system, but I would throw whatever fleets I had in there. In each battle I'd take heavy losses but beat them back. But, my Admirals were gaining more experience, and the Unbidden reinforcements seemed to be slowing down while mine were accelerating.

I wasn't getting much help from the Federation; I hadn't yet asked for a Federation fleet, mostly because I wasn't assured of command over them as the President. Iztran and Glebsig did eventually send a few fleets that parked in Ofeogliea; their numbers weren't huge, but I was grateful to have more bodies holding the line.

The longest, slowest pull was getting all my battleships for the 4th fleet. Commanded by Ira Poojary, an Admiral who had first cut her teeth and made rank in the decisive engagement of the First Gorf War, by now she was a Level IX Admiral and a terror leading over 100k military strength in a flotilla of 24 battleships. Together with my massive 1st Fleet and supporting 3rd Fleet, we had a little above 250k strength. And, I hoped, my bespoke tech would let us punch even higher above our weight.

The Unbidden had a big ~70k fleet that seems to defend their portal, multiple ~30k fleets that can defend or attack, and the portal itself has ~80k strength. I was worried they'd get even more reinforcements, but so had not seen any new arrivals for many months. I headed into Trimus with a small numerical advantage, leaving Ofeogliea solely to my Federation allies to defend if things went south again.

This time, I was the one leading the massacre, and I cut through their lines like butter. It was a huge battle, and even after destroying their fleets it took some time to fully destroy the portal. I eventually did, was rewarded with a series of "A Winner Is You!" screens.

I also received several nice buffs, including a boost to my relations with all other empires, and a Relic, which gives a permanent buff to Sublight Speed, and can be activated at a moderate Influence cost to double your Jump Drive range. With a doubled psionic Jump Drive, I can teleport across half the galaxy!

Once the war was over, I finally pulled the switch on setting up a Federation military. Everyone was pretty eager to do it. We were still at a 10-year rotation of the Presidency, and I wouldn't be able to control it yet. From hovering over the options, I could see that switching to High centralization was OK, but changing the Presidency selection to Strongest was not. I'd worry about that later. In the meantime, this was almost a bonus, as it moved maintenance of 20% of my capacity off of my books.

My economy had been chugging along mostly on autopilot while I focused on the war. As I emerged and shifted my attention back, I saw another problem approaching: overpopulation. For much of the game, Fen Habbanis III had been my dumping ground for excess population. It had finally maxed out just below 400 pops. The former Gorf planets were in varying stages of development; Great Gorf had been maxed out since I got it, but most others had some room to grow, and could take population once my Ecumenopolis filled up. By now, though, I was rapidly running out of lebensraum. This isn't a hard cap: you don't lose the game once you start having unemployed people or unhoused people. But it's INEFFICIENT, and I cannot have that!

I do really like how Stellaris (and Paradox games generally) have great, realistic motivations for drawing you in to war: I never (though you could) start a war because "I WANT TO CONQUER THE WORLD / GALAXY!". My First Gorf War started because of surplus production: I had saturated my domestic markets and needed to spend my Alloys on something useful, in this case ships, which would go to waste if I didn't use them for something. The Second Gorf War was fought for territorial integrity, uniting my detached colonies with my home systems. The Unbidden War was a defensive war against an existential threat. And now, I was going to war in order to claim land that I could make more "efficient", i.e. fully utilize by transferring my excess population, in order to continue growing.

In retrospect, I probably should have picked a fight with a mundane empire: the last remnant of Gorf or the rising Majj. But I'd had my heart set for a while on taking on the Yaanari Forerunners, a Fallen Empire that I now shared a border with. Once I'd refitted all of my ships, I brought up the diplomacy window, declared war, and then... nothing happened. What?!

Well, now that I'm a member of the Galactic Federation, I'm now constrained to the decisions of the Federation, and that includes going to war. If a member is attacked, the entire Federation will go to war in defense; but if one member wants to attack, the others must approve. And, at least with our federation's laws, that must be a unanimous vote. And, uh, the other people in my Federation weren't too stoked on taking on a millennia-old starfaring civilization who had conquered the secrets of the universe back when our ancestors were crawling onto land. Nertz. (Unfortunately, unlike pretty much every other Federation vote, you can't call in Favors to convince allies to vote in your direction. Which is an extra bummer, since it means you can use Favors in majority votes, but can't use Favors in unanimous votes.)

Well, maybe I could cajole them into war. I brought back up the Diplomacy screen. I tried to Rival them, but their overall power was now Pathetic compared to mine, making them ineligible. Nertz. I insulted them. I tried to declare war again. No dice. My push was hurting our Cohesion, so it was time for another tack.

There were two other Fallen Empires on the map. Celimy Vestige were in the east; they were Militant Isolationists, but too far from me to consider taking. The Norillgan Guardians (who I always wanted to call the Nobunaga Guardians) were up in the northwest, not exactly contiguous with me but only a few hops across my vassalized Gorf Alliance of Planets. Better yet, they were merely Inferior to me and thus eligible for Rivalry. I claimed a bunch of their systems, rivaled them and insulted them. They gave me an ultimatum to renounce my claims, I refused. They didn't attack, so I asked for a declaration of war. This time, everyone said "Yes" or abstained. The Galactic Federation was going to war!

I moved my fleets up. I had a roughly 50% advantage over them. Their own fleets were based in the northeast and I was coming up from the south, so I was able to seize a previously-claimed system before they engaged. I had a Transport Fleet waiting slightly further south, but I was reluctant to start the ground invasion until I had neutralized their airborne threat. I watched them move further south and braced for them to hit me; after the massacre at Trimus, I was reluctant to fight in the same system as one of their Citadels. And then... they disappeared!

I stared at the map. They were just gone. About 200k fleet power vanished. All of their systems were left open and undefended. It must be a trap. What was happening?

A few (in-game) days later, I figured it out. One of their systems contained a natural Wormhole. They had traveled through it, into Celimy Vestige space, and were pressing on, about to attack my much weaker allies Glebsig and Iztran.

This was bad. Now, I wasn't too heartbroken about the prospect of my allies getting hit. But the whole Federation was involved in this war, and this meant that any Weariness inflicted on my allies would be attributed to me as well. With such a massive military force in their space, it might not take much time until the Guardians could force me to accept a status quo peace, or even convince my allies to surrender early. (I'm unclear on whether ending a war is also a unanimous vote or merely majority.)

So, I was in a quandary now. I couldn't just follow them through the wormhole: the territory on the other side belonged to Celimy Vestige, who had Closed Borders with me (and all other non-Fallen empires). There weren't any nearby Gateways on either side of the Wormholes. Fortunately, I did have my Jump Drives; I couldn't Jump into the Celimy system, but I could enter the Glebsig space that they were headed towards, and intercept the Guardian fleet before it did too much damage.

Around this point in the game, I started really appreciating how Stellaris was turning into an N-dimensional space strategy game. It isn't just "Europa Universalis: In Space", even though I had been thinking of it like that: we're accustomed to seeing the map as a 2-dimensional board, but the existence of Gateways and Wormholes means that two spots on opposite sides of the galaxy can be considered adjacent to each other. It's a tesseract, it's a folding. Your brain needs to start operating in a different way once you consider these phenomena, and concepts like "near" and "far" start to take on different meanings: what matters is the time between two systems, not the physical distance between them.

I decided to Jump, splitting out my 3rd Fleet to continue taking some less-defended Guardian systems while the massive 1st and 4th fleets jumped over into Glebsig space. I moved into position, but kept a cautious distance: your fleets have lowered Sublight Speed and Weapon Damage for 200 days after a jump, so I wanted to ideally slow down his advance, but not fully engage until that time had passed. I kept an eye on him, and then: the Guardians turned back, re-entering Celimy space!

I was gobsmacked. It felt like a gut-punch. The Guardians had baited me, and I'd acted the fool. Fully 75% of my awesome fleet was now stranded on the opposite side of the galaxy from the war. Their engines wouldn't be able to Jump back for another 170 days. I couldn't chase the Guardians back through the wormhole since I didn't have access to Celimy territory. And traveling back to the theater over hyperlanes would take months and months.

My whole strategy for the war shifted. I'd planned to smash the Guardian fleet and then take my time invading their planets. Now, it was a frantic race against the clock. At the end of the first Gorf war, I was scrambling to maximize my gains before our maxed-out War Weariness forced an end to hostilities. Now, I wanted to put the war away before they could travel back through the Wormhole, crush my small remaining Third Fleet, then pound my Federation allies into submission.

I raced my Transport Fleet up, and then paused. Up until now I've always used the same General (a Substance Abuser but otherwise a good guy) to lead with overwhelming force. Checking the two claimed planets' defenses, though, I had more than enough: about 1.5k troop strength on my side against roughly 500 defenders on each. So, for the first time in the game, I split my armies as well, recruiting a new (Gorf!) General to lead one assault while my veteran Robert Morin landed the other.

I watched nervously as the ground invasion continued and the Guardian fleet approached the Wormhole. And then... it kept going! Traveling all the way through Celimy space, now towards Iztran territory. I had mis-read its earlier movements, or maybe they had changed their own plans, but they seemed determined to fight on in the eastern part of the galaxy rather than return home and defend their lands. (Or, now that I think about it, maybe they couldn't travel back through the wormhole since I'd taken control of the system after they left?)

That lifted a little bit of pressure, since I didn't need to worry as much about losing control of the Guardian systems I had claimed. But I still had my original problem of them attacking my allies and driving up the war score. The hyperlanes in that part of the galaxy were really convoluted, and even though the distance between my flight and theirs was minimal, not having access to Celimy meant an extremely long time to travel around, so Iztran would likely lose many systems before I could reach them. Best to end the war before that.

The ground invasion succeeded, pushing up my war score enough to satisfy the Status Quo condition, and I managed to stop the war before any Iztran systems could be lost. Phew!

Before the war started, I had dispatched some colony ships to colonize a few Holy Worlds near the Guardians, and those colonies were established just as the war was winding down. I believe that attempting to settle these world usually triggers the Guardians to declare war, so that had been a background casus belli for me; as it was, I was curious if they would immediately declare war again, but the standard ten-year truce held. Excellent.

It was time for some political consolidation. For years I'd been trading any excess Alloys to my fellow Federation members in exchange for Favors, and now it was time to collect the bill. Enough time had elapsed to raise our Centralization to High, which was an easy vote. Next I wanted to change the Succession Type to Strongest, which was universally opposed. I gently reminded them of all those shiny metals I'd given them (and, presumably, how I had, uh, single-handedly saved everyone in the galaxy from being devoured alive by ravenous extradimensional monsters), and after a brief huddle they agreed. By sheerest coincidence, the Strongest member of the Federation was: Me! The United Nations of Earth!

Once I was in charge, I bumped the Fleet Contribution requirements up another 10%, which everyone easily agreed to. The previous Presidents had actually done a good job at managing the fleet, thoughtfully using the Antimatter Disintigrators that I had discovered and building the fleet up to maximum power. I also had gained some nice extra perks from being the President, including a bonus Envoy, who I promptly re-deployed to the Federation: the changes in laws were having a minor negative effect on Cohesion, but one more Envoy was plenty to put us back into positive territory again.

I'd just had time to recall my fleets and armies back to our homeworlds when the next major development happened: Celimy Vestige declared war on us! I hadn't been trying to aggravate them, but was happy for another fight: I had only gotten two settled planets out of the Guardians, plus another two Holy Worlds, so I could use some more population centers. I'm not totally clear on why Celimy declared war, but most likely Glebsig or Iztran were encroaching on their territory, which they decidedly Do Not Like.

This time, I was able to go through a Gateway in an unoccupied system to the southeast of Celimy; that hadn't been an option in the Guardian war since there wasn't a route between there and the westerly section of Glebsig that had been threatened through the wormhole, but this one provided a perfectly good route into the system.

This war was a little awkward to maneuver. I'd been bracing for a potential war against the Guardians over the Holy Worlds, so I'd kept my First Fleet up there, and it would take some time for it to return to space with a Gateway. My Fourth and Third fleets could deploy much more quickly, but without the First's numbers we were barely a match for Celimy. But, the Federation fleets added another 100k or so power, which was plenty; but that Fleet was trapped southwest of Celimy.

I brought my mobile Third Fleet into Celimy and took control of some lightly-defended systems, while my slower Fourth Fleet hung back near the Gateway. As Celimy moved to reclaim the systems, I retreated the Third back towards the gateway as well, while the Federation fleet moved in to the west. This system didn't have any fleets but did have a highly developed Citadel; the Federation took heavy damages but managed to claim it.

The Federation fleet dropped back south into Glebsig space for repairs, leaving the system undefended. Celimy then started moving back towards that system. I saw my chance: I swung the Third and Fourth fleets north and then chased the Celimy fleet from the east while the Federation fleet charged towards it from the west. We engaged in the wormhole system that had caused me such grief during the Guardian wars, and I attempted to crush Celimy between the hammer of the Federation and the anvil of Earth.

Celimy fought viciously, punching above their weight and showing no sign of retreat. My Third Fleet was almost totally destroyed, and the Fourth started taking heavy damages. And then, my savior arrived: the First Fleet had finally completed its voyage and charged into action in the hour of need, throwing another 150k of military power into the battle. Celimy eventually sounded the retreat and managed to escape, but not before taking enormous losses. Their fleet had gone MIA, and all that was left was the mopping up.

But, there was a lot to mop up! I brought in my two transport fleets to land on the planets, and claimed a couple of more systems. When I looked towards Celimy's core, though, I gulped. While their colonies had a respectable 600-ish military strength defending it, their home system planets ("The Boundary" and "The Core") had about 4k each! I'd need to ramp up.

I set all of my fleets in orbit above The Boundary and started orbital bombardment while I drew on all the planets across my empire to muster fresh troops. The overall mix was approximately 50% Xenomorph, 25% Gene Warrior and 25% Psionics. I have no idea if that's a good strategy or not.

As I pacified the colony worlds, my allies were actually being pretty active, destroying outposts in outlying Celimy systems and conquering more land. Which is cool, it all adds to our war score and can be relatively tedious work. Thanks to that southeast Gateway, and me previously building Gateways in all of my core systems, I could relatively quickly throw together my grande armee.

Orbital bombardment wasn't as big of a factor as I'd hoped it would be; after maybe a couple of months of bombarding, planetary devastation had climbed to about 75%, while their troop strength had dwindled from maybe 3900 to about 3800. I didn't want to spend decades pounding holes into these planets, which after all I intended to rehabilitate for my own uses, so I called off the bombardment (or, rather, redirected it to The Core). My ground force capacity had now climbed from about 1.5k up to about 5k; I wasn't sure if that would be a big enough advantage or not, but I was bored of waiting and decided to go for it.

I felt nervous watching this. Typically I'm attacking with a 3x or more advantage, with me holding massive reserves and them not having any reserves. This time, we both had enormous reserves. The invasion lasted for months. I seemed to be losing, with more of my units moving into "Withdrawn" than his. I still had a numerical advantage, but we seemed to be ticking down in equal absolute numbers, and not accelerating in my favor as I had hoped.

After a few months, I felt better about how things were progressing. It was probably actually better that my units were withdrawing earlier, as I could rotate in fresh troops at full health and morale, while his fought until they were nearly or completely dead. We both had plenty of reserves, but his withdrawn units were in worse shape than mine. Finally, we turned the corner as his reserves began to run low. What had felt like an even match turned into more of a rout. It took still more time to finish mopping up, but I emerged with the entirety of my 5k army intact, and The Boundary in my control.

The ground invasion had gone on for so long that The Core was now also 75%+ devastated. I steeled myself for another long but ultimately successful fight and parachuted my troops in. Oh, and around this time I finally learned that you can pan the camera around in all directions, and it looks freakin' awesome! I'd done this once or twice on the galaxy map, but for some reason had never thought to do it within a system. It's so gorgeous.

My troops' boots hit the ground, and then... we won! I was shocked, and still don't know exactly how that happened. They still had around 3.5k of defenders after my bombardment, and it didn't seem possible that the invasion could have gone that quickly. I hadn't checked the War Score in a while so maybe they were hurting so bad that they pre-emptively surrendered, or maybe I triggered some sort of scripted event. In any case, Celimy Vestige was defeated. I hadn't claimed all of their systems, but I had claimed and conquered all of their planets, and as a result their empire was no more. A few of their unclaimed systems turned over to me, others reverted to unowned, and were gratefully snapped up by Iztran and Glebsig.

The aftermath of this war was particularly tricky to deal with. I'd eagerly pursued the war in order to get fresh planets for my overpopulating homeland, but now I had achieved exactly the opposite: both The Boundary and The Core had massive unemployment and housing shortages, along with the expected instability and crime. I belatedly realized that the massive bombardment had annihilated their housing supply; it would eventually recover, but would take nearly a decade to get back to normal. But the job shortage was a chronic issue. I belatedly discovered that Celimy Vestige had been a slave society; the Celimy were the upper class, and the Sejethari the lower. There were 33 of each pop on The Boundary and 66 of each on The Core. I think that the Sejethari had been doing the (few) menial jobs, while the Celimy had been living extravagant lives of luxury and excess, unemployed but happy. Now, in the meritocratic Earth system, the Celimy were expected to work, and were not happy with that.

I attempted to resolve this by my tried-and-true method of "ship the bums out", but (a) I didn't have a lot of places to move them to, because, see again why I was warring in the first place; and (b) If you lower the population too far, you need to abandon buildings, which will then be destroyed. That's always bad, but especially bad here, because the Fallen Empires have some amazing buildings that you can't get anywhere else in the game. Like, there's a building that just generates 250 Energy a month, full stop. It doesn't offer any jobs or require any resources, it's just free real estate. Autoforges create tons of alloys, again without requiring jobs or resources. And, possibly my favorite, buildings that give free rare materials, once again, you guessed it, without requiring any minerals.

The game honestly got pretty tedious at this point. It doesn't have to be tedious, I'd still be winning if I didn't do anything, but by this point I was so devoted to running an optimal economy that I got completely bogged down in micromanagement. Basically, each month I would pause the game, look through my 40 systems to see which ones were overpopulated, open one, click "Resettle", find a candidate with available housing and jobs, and click "Transfer", then repeat that over and over again. Pops will eventually resettle themselves through immigration, but that can take years or decades, and they'll generate instability in the meantime; there's also a tempting Edict you can pass where they will resettle themselves, but (1) only from unemployment, not overpopulation; (2) only 1 pop in your entire empire will resettle at a time; (3) that 1 pop will resettle once every two months; and (3) it requires a precious Edict slot, displacing materially advantageous ones. I like the idea, but it didn't seem like nearly enough bandwidth to solve the problem I was having with dozens of planets at capacity, with people who wouldn't stop having sex and robots who wouldn't stop making more robots.

But, even that tedium felt oddly comforting. I realized that the arc of this game ended up feeling a ton like my beloved Civilization II games. I would stay at peace with all my neighbors, dump everything into my technology, invest everything in more research while they wasted their resources fighting each other; then, once I had achieved technological superiority, I would switch everything over to military production and bulldoze all of their pikemen and knights with my tanks and bombers. But, while the early game would breeze by with me often just pressing "End Turn" until the next lightbulb popped, the endgame would require up to an hour per turn as I flipped through every single city in my civ to make sure that everyone was exactly happy enough to not start a revolt. Stellaris doesn't require you to do that -- maybe you'll just be 94% efficient instead of 98% efficient -- but it has activated that impulse of mine.

Do you know what isn't tedious? War! The thought of conquering the galaxy wasn't super compelling; there are hundreds of star systems, and all the other empires had Pathetic strength compared to mine, so it would be a long and boring slog. But, as I had about 20 years left in the game at this point, I thought it might be fun to follow on my success against the Celimy with a new goal, to defeat all of the Fallen Empires. They were much closer of a match for me, particularly in their military and technology, and had some unique mechanics to keep things interesting.

I'd already hit the Guardians, so they were an easy choice. I'd been hoping they would pre-emptively declare war on me to retake their Holy Worlds; but either I had scared them off with my military might, or I'd hit a loophole by colonizing them during our peace treaty, and either way they weren't taking the bait. I asked the Federation for a declaration of war, and every member abstained except for me voting Yes. I'll take it!

While my allies hadn't voted for the war, they eagerly participated in it, which was cool to see. Glebsig and Iztran in particular sent their own sovereign fleets to shadow mine while I was preparing to invade, and after the declaration they crossed the border with me. There doesn't seem to be any UI to guide your allies, but they acted smartly: defeating outlying starbases and seizing boundary territories with their modest fleets while my mega-fleet steamed ahead to confront the main Guardian force.

Without access to their Wormhole, this time the Guardians didn't have much room to maneuver. I hit them in their home system and quickly triumphed. As with the Majj/Gorf fight, though, there wasn't much teeth in it: They fled combat before I could inflict too many losses. My own ships were banged up, so I sent them back to starbase to repair; but the Guardians would re-materialize after a brief delay and resume the attack. Even though their empire was rather small now, with fewer than a dozen systems, I still needed to scramble and chase after them, and/or leave defensive fleets behind so my transport ships would get clear access to the planets.

Speaking of which: Once again I found a home system with multiple planets inside, each with several thousand defensive strength. While the militant Celimy Vestige's planets were named "Boundary" and "Core", the spiritualist Guardians' were more illustratively named "Sky Temple" and "Celestial Throne". Sky Temple took a long time to whittle down. I landed my troops on Celestial Throne, and almost immediately the Guardians surrendered, just like what happened with Celimy. I now wonder if this is maybe a scripted event, to cut down on the monotony of a final conquest once the outcome is certain.

Defeating Fallen Empires is fun and cool: they have unique diplomacy dialogue when you conquer them, a custom popup describing the impact on the galaxy, and, more interestingly, some lingering quests may pop up later. For Celimy Vestige, when surveying conquered systems I later discovered two shielded planets. Each required a longish research project to lift the shield, but provided a huge reward: a new, habitable planet, and fresh dialogue with an inhabitant on that planet, who turns out to be a Level X Admiral you can recruit to your empire. By now I had one home-grown human Level X Admiral as well, and a half-dozen admirals from levels V-VIII, all in all a great team to lead us forward.

If only my allies were so great! Once I had pacified the Guardian planets I was ready to move against my next and final target, the Yaanari. Several years before I received notice that the Yaanari had stirred from their decadent aloofness, become alarmed by the grave threat facing the galaxy, and taken it upon themselves to rally all civilizations to unite under their banner to face the foes. And I was like... who the hell are you talking about?! Do you mean me? Or are you talking about those Unbidden extradimensional invaders, who I friggin' defeated all by myself while you were off being useless?! They demanded that I surrender my sovereignty to them, I said "Hell no," they got a casus belli on me and a big reputation malus. (Checking the diplomacy window, I could see that every other nation in the galaxy had turned them down as well, which made me feel slightly better.)

I hoped that we were headed towards war, but, despite their low approval and my constant insulting of them, they didn't take the bait. All right then, let's get the Federation on board! Except, they didn't. I brought up the vote again and again. Most of the members were on board, including those like the Rax'Thalac Conclave that stood the most to lose from Yaanari aggression; but the Iztran Harmonious Consensus would veto me.

I would wait for the Cohesion to climb up to 90, try a vote, fail, and repeat. After a few times, I decided to see if I could figure out what was going on. For starters, Iztran are Pacifist, so it makes sense that they would oppose war. But, they had abstained from voting against the Guardian war, so clearly it wasn't an insurmountable obstacle. Checking opinion scores in the main Diplomacy window, I noticed that they had the coolest attitude of any Federation members to me: granted, it was still 170-ish, but that's much lower than the 300s or 400s of other members.

Maybe that was a factor? It does make sense that empires would cast votes based on how much they liked the nation proposing it. I drilled down into the source of the negative opinion, and realized that it was being adjusted by a -200 for "Voted against our proposals". Ah! I now remembered: Iztran had for years incessantly proposed adding Majj to the Galactic Federation, and I had always voted them down. Not that I dislike Majj as such, but, as I was seeing even more now, getting business done with unanimous votes is a big pain in the butt, and I didn't want one more voice in the room.

Fortunately, there are other ways to improve opinion. I dispatched an Envoy to Iztran, and donated them tons and tons of resources (alloys, food, minerals, energy). I was chagrined to learn that positive opinion for favorable trade deals is capped at +100; whoops! Fortunately, by this point in the game I was constantly bumping up against resource caps, so it wasn't a big deal.

I waited patiently for over a year, watching the numbers tick up, getting closer and closer to 200. Then past 200. Rubbing my hands together, I brought up the diplomacy channel with the Yaanari and issued a declaration of war. (Unlike war against the other Fallen Empires, this one didn't have the standard Casus Belli options like Conquer or Humiliate, and only lets you choose End Threat.) I clicked that, the vote went out... and Iztran voted against it again!

I fumed silently, then fumed loudly. It was now 2490. I wasn't sure how long this war would take, but definitely longer than the Guardians war, and I did not want the game to end before I'd finished this one thing. If Iztran wouldn't vote for the war now, they probably never would. And where would I be then, not fighting a war?! That sounds terrible!

I chatted with Iztran and saw an option to "Remove from Federation". "That's it!" I thought and selected it. But, as with declaring war, there are no opportunities to call in Favors for this type of vote. Oddly, Iztran abstained in it; but most other members of the Federation opposed it.

"Well," I muttered, "Screw all-y'all! If you won't let me go to war, then I don't need you!" I double-checked my reasoning: I'd joined the Feds in the first place for that sweet bonus against Crisis ships, but the Crisis was over. I'd lose control of the joint Federation fleet, but would get back most of its strength in Naval Capacity under my sovereign control. Numerically I might be at a slight disadvantage, but... eff it! It's a game, let's have fun!

I quit the Federation. Everyone got mad at me and canceled our centuries-long migration and trade treaties. I didn't care. I was so far beyond them that their contributions meant nothing.

My capacity now jumped from 900-something to 1300-something. Which was cool and all, but I'd need to actually use it. I fleshed out my 3rd fleet to the command limit, and transformed the 2nd fleet into an actual proper fleet rather than just an interdiction team. And, now that my 4th fleet was at its command limit as well, I ordered construction of a new all-battleship 5th fleet.

The downside is, Battleships take forever to build. All of the Shipyards in my empire were working hard, popping out Corvettes left and right, but those Battleships only slooooowly completed.

Now that the Yaanari had Awakened, they were getting more worrisome. They were building Gateways in all of their own systems. They had built a... I think a Colossus, maybe? It showed as 0 military power so I think it was under construction, but still seemed concerning. And their fleets were massive, 6 fleets in their home system with 100k-140k each, and some smaller fleets guarding the border.

As for me, I massed everything into Ofeogliea, where we had defended the galaxy against the Unbidden decades before. All of my Admirals from that war were still with me and ready to serve again. Numbers-wise, I was at a slight disadvantage against the Yaanari. There were a few ways I could possibly get an advantage: tricking them into attacking me in my own Citadel would be the best, otherwise I could try to divide-and-conquer their fleets as I had done with Gorf. It seemed risky, and I probably wouldn't have picked this fight in normal circumstances; but, it was much better than boredom, and, I reasoned, even if things went south the game would probably end before they could fully conquer my empire. 

Once I had re-filled my fleet capacity and dispatched all my vessels into Ofeogliea, I talked with the Yaanari once more and declared war. This time there was no debate, no vote, no cowardly Iztran to ruin everything. The Yaanari seemed eager as well, saying they would have preferred me to submit voluntarily, but showing no qualms at making me submit by force.

As before, I paid close attention to the movement of their fleets within their systems before moving my own. I had hoped that the ~30k fleet in the adjacent Yaanari system would charge into Ofeogliea and kamikaze against my ~550k fleets; but no, it was just staying put. Disappointing but unsurprising. I went in, hard, taking out that fleet and its citadel. I then Gatewayed my transport ships in to Ofeogliea and ordered them to land.

While I had carefully planned the naval aspect of this war, I had completely overlooked my marines. I'd remembered them being a 3k force during the earlier Guardian war, but, of course, they had taken casualties during the invasion, and they hadn't been replenished since way back in the Celimy war. Now they were a mere 1.5k, plenty to take on the 800 border planet but far short of the 3.5k homeland. While the invasion was underway I whipped around all the planets in my empire to raise more troops. This time around, I just pumped out 2 xenomorph armies from each planet; they're faster to build than Gene Warriors, do more damage, and cost less upkeep. I think the only downside is that xenomorphs cause more collateral damage, but, with just a few years left in the game I didn't really care at all about that.

The big question was what their 650-700k fleets were going to do. I hoped that they would move northwest towards Ofeogliea, but instead they tacked west-south-west. That gave an opening for my existing army to land on the planet, but I was unsure about what to do with the fleet. Basically, were they circling around me to strike from behind, or pressing onward into the heart of my empire, possibly even driving towards Sol?

I drilled down into the system map and watched their mighty armada steam by... and keep going. I lurked until I was sure that they had committed to the westardly course, then charged my own mega-fleets in towards the heart of their empire.

We were now battling on parallel grounds, with them gobbling up my undefended heartland while I smashed apart their fortified defenses. It felt good, exhilarating and also a little nervewracking. It made me feel like Russia in the Napoleonic wars: I had tons and tons of land to give up, which kept the Yaanari occupied, burning their resources and time and manpower as I simply vacated that field. In the meantime, I was fighting their smaller-but-not-insignificant home fleets and their well-fortified citadels. The upshot, though, was that I was destroying their war-making capabilities: destroying ships and shipyards, whittling down their military might and removing their ability to reinforce. And meanwhile, they were taking, like, a couple of points of Energy and Minerals out of my +2k monthly surpluses.

One thing that made me nervous was that the Yaanari fleet was fast, maybe even faster than my end-game souped-up rigs, and they were blazing through systems more quickly than I expected. The good news was that Ofeogliea was right next to them and had a Gateway, so if they started to threaten something seriously important - my shipyards in Xamarton or Great Gorf, or my capital on Earth - then I could scramble through the portal to meet them. Depending on how much advance warning I had, I probably couldn't beat them there, but all of my home bases had fully developed Citadels and could hold out (hopefully!) for long enough for the reinforcements.

I noticed, though, that this war was moving differently than the others. Typically, the map will show who has "control" of a system once it has been conquered, but the "ownership" will stay the same until the end of the war. Now, though, the systems were flipping instantly, turning orange as soon as the Yaanari sailed through it. I think this is a side-effect of the End Threat War Goal I had set, different from the normal Conquer. The upshot was that they really were eating up my systems; but it worked both ways, and it was very satisfying to see their home systems turn blue after I conquered each planet. What was especially cool about this, though, was that I was also gaining ownership of the Gateways that they had built over the past decade. That meant that I wouldn't need to move all my fleets back to Ofeogliea, and instead they would just be a hop or two away from any other place in my empire.

This turned out to be extra-convenient since I had to spread my occupation wider than I had thought. As with previous wars, the Yaanari fleets would disengage before I could completely smash them, and then they would reappear some unknown time later. This isn't a huge threat, but could be a mild annoyance if they made it back to a friendly Starbase and were able to repair their damage. But my own casualties were low enough that I could split out each fleet to squat in its own separate system. Then, whenever a Yaanari coward dared show his face, I would blast that face off, melting down their remaining 20% Armor or whatever and this time finishing the job.

The war in space was going well, but the war on land would still take some time. My initial landing force hopped around, from one planet to the next, while the fresh recruits mustered into the much larger force to eventually take on the home planets: Mother had 1.5k, Daughter had another 1.5k, and Cradle was the big target with 3.5k.

I zoomed back out to the galaxy view and tracked the Yaanari fleet. They reached a crossroad: South lay my industrial heartland, the Gorf homelands, then a long and snaky road through Xamarton to Sirius and Sol. To the north was more empty space, with just my resort world. They headed north.

I cheered. Even more so once I realized that the Yaanari hadn't brought any transport ships with them; they'd left all of those back home, and I'd blown them all up. In the worst case, they would blow up my resort world's citadel, but they couldn't possibly conquer the planet without any ground troops. Well, maybe the worst case was them stationing above it for orbital bombardment; but in that case their navy would be tied up for months, while I completed my own invasion, and their bombardment couldn't possibly end with a successful landing. Unlike mine. A smile crept over my face. "Im in ur base, killin ur d00dz."

Then... they kept going, not taking the off-ramp to the resort world and instead pushing even further north, claiming more empty space. I was, and remain, somewhat baffled. My best guess is that they were trying to link up their territory: after they had Awakened, their had actually claimed a few previously vacant systems in the northwest of the galaxy, surrounded by Majj, Gorf Serene, Gorf United, and me. Perhaps this whole voyage had just been an attempt to establish territorial integrity, not unlike my own motivation for the Second Gorf War.

Be that as it may: There was no point to any of it. They didn't have any populated planets up there. They couldn't reach any of my planets to the north without cutting through neutral empires. (My adoption of gateways had removed my own need for territorial integrity, or, rather, caused me to project such integrity through N-dimensional space.) Now their fleet was way the hell over there, while I was preparing the final blow against their civilization here.

My all-Xenomorph army of 4k was now open for business. I actually split it into two 2k armies, hiring a fresh general to lead the other one, and I landed one each one Mother and Daughter; it was a smaller numerical advantage than normal, but based on my earlier experiences with planetary battle I was pretty confident it would work, as well as be quicker. I hoped to finish those landings around the same time my veterans had finished their mop-up work, then we could all tackle The Cradle together.

I guess the Yaanari finally got the memo about something bad happening back home, or maybe they had a "Mission Accomplished" moment after completing their pointless drive to the north, because they turned around with a quickness and sped back the way they came. Again I was surprised by the speed of their fleets. I started recalling my dispersed forces: I had seemed to have squashed the last of the fleeing fleets. I had repaired all of my own fleets, which I was very glad of; that's a detail I had neglected in earlier wars, much to my loss. And my reinforcements were under way, unlikely to be complete by the time of the great epic final confrontation, but with most of my original strength restored. In contrast, the Yaanari's grand armada had suffered mild dinks and blips along the way, not taking any major fire but still being nibbled upon by hundreds of rabbits during their pointless, pointless journey.

They sailed back within sight of their homeworld just as I had finished conquering Mother. My freshly recruited General had perished during the fighting on Daughter and that invasion was progressing more slowly. But, my other General had finally returned after putting boots on the ground of the last outlying planet. He only had about 500 strength to his name at this point, but was also now a decorated Level IX leader (whose substance abuse problem had not yet caught up to him). I merged the armies together to let the veteran take command, and they landed on Cradle, hoping that the Daughter fighters could reinforce them soon.

For a moment I thought that the Yaanari would fight me in Ofeogliea after all, but they swerved and headed straight towards the Cradle instead. And so, we were joined together, in the biggest battle in the history of the galaxy: battleships pounding away from the outer rim, corvettes weaving in and out through the lines, destroyers leading phalanxes of cruisers to deliver broadsides against the enemy. All under the baleful eye of the great sun, our energy weapons crackling through the inky blackness of space, and all along, millions of Yaanari soldiers were fighting desperately to save their planet against the onslaught of vicious xenomorphs from the United Nations of Earth, rending all who stood in their path.

The simultaneous air and ground combat was genuinely thrilling, and felt like the climactic battle in Return of the Jedi. I switched back and forth between the two to monitor the progress. I could not directly intervene in the conflict - it was all up to the admirals and general now - but it was the culmination of all I had done: all the people born, all of the minerals mined, all of the alloys forged, all of the weaponry researched, all of the soldiers trained, all of the shipyards raised, all of the reinforcements thrown together and hurled into this battle at the last minute, adding strength to strength, the might of Humanity and all of her tools brought to bear against this one last foe.

While the Yaanari's numbers were worrying, and they were led by a Level X Admiral, they were tired, and weakened, while all of my ships were fresh off the block or from the repair shop. We also had the support of the Citadel, with its previously-built buffs now acting in my favor. (I'm now unclear on when conquered citadels are destroyed and when they are turned over to the victor; I had lost my own Citadel during the Unbidden war, but was not about to complain about retaining ownership of a perfectly functional one here.) They broke, and fled. We had won the battle in space.

The battle down below took some more time, but soon resolved as well. Unlike the earlier wars against Celimy and the Guardians, I didn't get a scripted surrender near the start of my ground invasion, and instead the Yaanari fought on to the last man. But that last man eventually fell, and my victory was complete.

It was now 2492, a mere one thousand years since Christopher Columbus had "discovered" the New World. Now, mankind had not merely discovered, but had fully occupied, three score New Worlds, spread across the galaxy, joining in friendship with aliens and preaching their doctrine of radical egalitarianism. Not too bad!

I had just a little bit of business left to attend. First, some minor border cleanup: possibly as a side-effect of the unusual handling of ownership during the war, once the Yaanari was defeated all of the systems they had previously conquered did not revert to me, but instead reverted to being not only unknown, but unsurveyed. So, I broke out the Science Ships once again to (re-)chart them and bring them back in to my empire. Not because I needed the resources or shipping lanes; just because it looked pretty.

I also wanted to decide what to do about the Federation. My former confederates had come crawling back to me, fawning over me and my mighty fleet, begging me to accept Associate Status again. I sneered. Who needed them and their non-war-mongering ways? But, I mused, it would be fun to create a counterweight to the Galactic Federation. And so I went to my ancient frenemy Majj, the partner in my very first diplomatic pacts and the nation I had relentlessly blocked from joining the Federation, and asked them to join me in my new, very serious venture. Musing over our collective will and purpose, I solemnly declared the foundation of the No Homers Club.

We didn't actually do anything, of course: with only a few years to go there was no time to earn XP or anything. And that's a good thing: I had once again forgotten about Majj's association with the Gorf Serene Foundation. As their Vassal, Gorf also became a founding member of the No Homer's Club. That was funny off the bat, since, even after several hundred years, they still hate me, with a -800 or so opinion... and just because I stole all their planets and stars from them! More seriously, their Divergent Ethics were murder on our Cohesion. I was a Fanatic Egalitarian and Xenophile, Majj were Fanatic Xenophiles and Materialists... and Gorf were Authoritarian Xenophobic Spiritualists. Ouch!

But, again, it didn't matter. For the first time in the game I turned the Game Speed up to High. I stopped worrying about exceeding my resource capacity, or unemployment, or housing shortages, and just watched that calendar tick higher and higher. There was one last election, which my Alien Friendship Party won easily as usual. And then, at long last: It was over, and I'd won!

Having played Civ for many years and across many editions, I was prepared for an abrupt and fairly minimal ending: No cool cinematics or story or anything, just a nice little ranked chart. Also as in Civ, the game doesn't have to end, and in fact just automatically keeps chugging along. If I did have a mind to, say, conquer the entire galaxy and rule it with an iron fist, it might be fun to keep going towards that goal. But I'm happier with definitive endings than open-ended ones, and coming out on top is a pretty darn good ending.

I referenced Civ above, and of course that 4X game has a lot of similarities to this one. Oddly I tended to think of Civ more than either Alpha Centauri game, perhaps because Stellaris is less personality-driven and has more mutable, flexible empires. But I was really surprised to realize that the game series it reminded me most of was Mass Effect. Obviously the game play and even genre are wildly different, from a third-person shooter to a grand strategy game. But the feel of the game was surprisingly similar, particularly like Mass Effect 1: The thrill of exploring the galaxy, finding new things, collecting resources, and meeting a variety of bizarrely different creatures. It probably helped that my game included aliens that reminded me of the Hanar and of Turians. The Galactic Community bears a strong resemblance to the Council, all the way down to the delegates bickering over trade sanctions and refusing to take up my motion to address the existential threat to all intelligent life. The United Nations of Earth is basically the Paragon path that leads to the Council, while the Brotherhood of Man is the Lone Survivor Renegade leading to an ascendant Systems Alliance. The Fallen Empires remind me of the Proteans, while the Unbidden are not unlike the Reapers, at least regarding the scale of the threat. Uplifting is the same in both games, though my upliftees were not as... rambunctious as the Krogan. Psionics is a strong analogue for Biotics. And Gateways, of course, are totally Mass Effect Relays. And... well, you get the picture. I suspect that some of the resemblances are conscious homages, and more are probably due to the shared DNA of both franchises borrowing from the same corpus of previous science fiction.

The big question is: Will I play again? I'm not sure! A big part of me wants to dive back in immediately. After playing an entire game from start to finish, I feel like I finally get how it works. It would be fun to roll a new, custom empire from scratch, with my own Ethics and Civics and stuff. But, do I really want to spend another [checks calendar] three months on a single game? I dunno. Maybe! After reading up on the various expansions and stuff, I'm especially interested in playing a game with the latest DLC, Federations. This adds a ton of cool options for alliance-based gameplay, including different types of associations (Trade cartels, hegemonies, research cooperatives, etc.); new types of voting (based on diplomatic weight or military strength or fleets or technology, as well as one vote per member state); and even new succession types for the Presidency, including determining the leader by trials of mortal combat. It sounds great! (There is a Stellaris sale on Steam right now, but unfortunately Federation is the one DLC not on sale, probably due to it being the most recent one.)

The more realistic outcome is that I'll stare longingly at Baldur's Gate 3 and wrestle with my soul over whether to join the Early Access phase or not. But if I feel the urge for a more scientific form of fiction, there might be more stars in my future.