No Biochemical Barriers: Averted, mostly. While there will be absolutely no Half Human Hybrids, or indeed Half Anything Hybrids running around, as I said back then, it can get a mite fuzzy: Alien Food is Edible: Well, no, for the most part it isn’t, given differing biochemistries, chiralities, etc.
Hanith Desúmé, Dinéval Eugenesis Pty., to Laurë Minaxianos and Ryal Cerron-ith-Oléron, greetings. Permit me first to apologize for the delay in proceedings; since both the chloromorph dryad clade and the alaereldrae aquanaut clade represent extensive whole-body modifications, we thought it best to take particular care in stripping clade-template alterations from
Nice to the Waiter: Played very straight, given the Empire’s less antagonistic/separatist class structure and its labor demographics. Also, y’know, heavily emphasized sense of gentlesophly behavior.
“We don’t speak to our gods, and they don’t speak to us.” “Why? The last time we asked them for something and they heard us, Venirek Sky-Hammer punched our world so hard that everything died. And it’s not that we’re not grateful, but that’s the
NGO Superpower: Actually, yes. Quite a lot, especially given the sheer range of government sizes out there, and the sizes therefore of the organizations that some of the real behemoths can host. For a start and most prominently, most of the “Big 26” starcorporations at least have the financial resources
Cathál i-sered-RĂĂ«lle was nervous, and she tried hard not to let it show. There was no reason to be so, she knew – sure, Cathál, and that’s what all those who failed of Acceptance first time around thought when this morning came for them – for she was well prepared, and
New Neo City: Averted, at least within the Empire. While people are, of course, free to call their cities, estates, habitats, moons, etc., anything they feel like, the Imperial Grand Survey find this trope incredibly annoying – especially predicting how meta this could get looking into the deep future – and flat-out
This thing? This thing starts tomorrow.
Never the Selves Shall Meet: Averted. While it’s difficult and expensive – to understate the case radically – to meet yourself (albeit less difficult, although no less expensive, to send yourself a message) in the past, and it comes with a host of annoying limitations concerning boundary conditions and suchlike, there
…besides the remainder of the muckings-about necessary to get a book out of the door, that is. Well, apart from the usual fic returning, I’m planning for doing something else longer soon, and one of the candidates for that involves some free trading adventures out on the frontiers of
Never Recycle a Building: Rather subverted – inasmuch as while the Imperials don’t tend to go around demolishing perfectly good buildings they don’t have a current use for – (Leading to the related phenomena in which some buildings have been in continuous use and upgrading for something like seven thousand
Because I couldn’t stop scribbling during my final formatting pass, okay? Main hull: 1. Flight deck, right for’ard, and not on either of the decks strictly speaking, since it’s in the nose of the craft in what amounts to a transparent dome. The pilot’s command seat