How This Came Together
In Advances, a political science fiction short story, progress inside the fragile new Federation creates pressure instead of relief. As the space docks near completion and the first colonization ship moves closer to reality, Olyver pushes for a faster timeline while Quinn and Caitlin weigh the cost of rushing their people back toward the stars.
What begins as a discussion about ships, labor, and construction turns into something far more dangerous when the Federation charter comes under scrutiny. In a room shaped by impatience, compromise, and political tension, the future of new worlds may depend on wording that cannot be left unclear.
Music Pairing
This story is paired with Eerie Stroll, an original blues piece with a slow, creeping tension beneath its movement. Its ominous tone gives the conversation a darker edge, underscoring the way progress can carry hidden consequences when ambition, law, and power begin pressing against one another.
Behind the Scenes
When I sat down to write this story, I wanted to plant a few seeds for use later on while bringing motion to the outstanding events. As I continued to highlight the leaders of the new planet, I kept this story focused inside the triumvirs’ chamber, but the stakes reach far beyond the room as Olyver, Quinn, and Caitlin debate how quickly the Federation should expand and what protections future colonists require.
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Excerpt of Advances
Folding his hands behind his back, Lambert licked his lips as his gaze swept across each of the triumvirs. “The space docks are nearing completion, sooner than expected.”
Olyver clapped, unable to hide the spark in his eyes. His head twitched toward Quinn as he smiled. “That is fantastic news, Lambert. Wouldn’t you all agree?”
Quinn nodded.
Caitlin leaned forward. “It changes the pressure that’s on us.”
“While this took too long to reach, it’s progress. But we need more.” Olyver inched closer to the edge of his desk. “How fast can you finish the initial ship?”
Lambert slouched as he rubbed his chin. After a moment, he straightened. “We should begin testing it in a year and a half, given our current pace.”
“Can’t your team do any better?” Olyver asked.
“We may be able to get it down to a year.” Lambert inclined his head at Quinn, his eyes lingering on the triumvir. “But that would require pulling workers, materials, and oversight away from the other projects.”
“Thank you, Lambert,” Quinn said. “We’ll consider the cost before making that decision.”
“What about the supplies?” Olyver asked. Before anyone could answer, he leaned closer. “Have you had any trouble ferrying them up to the docks?”
Lambert’s gaze shifted to Olyver. “No, we’re getting the materials we need on time.”
“Now that’s good news,” Quinn said, offering a soft nod.
“Thank you,” Lambert said, bowing to them. When he rose, he turned and left the room.
When the door closed, Olyver faced Quinn. “Lambert just shortened the vessel’s timeline.”
“But you heard the cost,” Caitlin said as she stood and rested her arms on the back of her chair. “A year and a half gives us the ship without starving everything around it.”
Olyver’s eyes narrowed. “If it were up to the two of you, every delay would be dressed up as caution.”
Quinn shook his head. “Olyver, I am weary of your impatience masquerading as urgency.”
“Enough,” Caitlin said.
“Caitlin, relax,” Quinn said. His eyes shifted back to Olyver. “I am tired of your grief. We’re aware of what you want.”
He thumped his hand against his desk as he leaned toward Olyver. “But every project we accelerate steals time, labor, or materials from something else. You understand that as well as I do. And you know that we get everything done according to its priority.”
Olyver held Quinn’s stare for a moment before looking away.
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