The seeding stayed on the board for about an hour, and during that time, the mess hall orbited around it. Swathes of kids moving around, poking and watching it.
I watched from our table as recruits cycled past the display, tracing brackets, running mental matchups, arguing about who belonged where.
"Third, huh?" Sato said, staring at the board from across the mess hall. "Jin at the third seed. all the way above the rest of us, even Marcus. That's not bad."
"The algorithm weighted the combined performance across phase one and two," Park said, "Jin's phase one contribution was exceptional. Eliminations in all three squad matches and then in all the duo matches."
"There were plenty that had similar results; there must be an extra mechanism in there somewhere," Tomás added. "That's our Jin, always at the front."
I looked at Jin. She was eating paste and pretending the conversation was happening to someone else. But the tips of her ears had gone red.
"So the seeds determine the fights?" Hsu said, "Higher seeds get a favourable bracket path?"
"Correct, the first two rounds are against lower seeds," Park confirmed. "Jin's likely facing opponents in the low twenties until the quarter-finals. After that, the bracket converges, and it gets real."
"So she gets to coast to the quarters?" Sato asked.
"I don't coast," Jin said without looking up.
"You literally sprint everywhere. That's the opposite of coasting." I added.
"Your point is stupid." She shot back.
"What? It makes perfect sense."
She scowled at me.
"What about our boy Marcus?" Sato continued, jerking a thumb at me. "Fifth seed. Still behind Dayo."
"The algorithm rewards consistency," Tomás said. "Marcus's phase one was strong, but the paired combat had a wobble."
"Was more than a wobble," Jin shot.
"I had an important realisation during that fight," I defended.
"You had an existential crisis while someone was trying to break your ribs."
"Yeah, only because you asked me an existential question!"
"The bracket path is the interesting part," Park said, ignoring the bickering. "Marcus is on Osei's side. His first match is against Zhao. Around mid-thirties with what we suspect is a reflex enhancement deviation. Winnable if the reads are sharp. But if he gets past that, the round of sixteen puts him against Dayo."
"Another stat check fight," Hsu said.
"Except this time without Jin beside him," Tomás added.
"You reckon you'll push his jaw more than a couple of centimetres this time?" Sato said playfully.
"Thanks for the reminder," I said.
"And if he somehow gets past Dayo, the quarter-final is Osei." Park set his datapad down. "The bracket isn't kind to the fifth seed."
"What about Sato?" I asked, steering the conversation away from my impending doom. "Seed thirty-one. First match against Miller."
Sato groaned. "I saw." He rubbed his face. "I'm going to get folded in half."
"Maybe you can get around it with your southpaw style and—" Park started.
"Park. The man is nearly Level 40. My style could politely introduce themselves before he puts me through the floor."
"Well, someone had to introduce you— it was about time." Jin poked.
"Hey, Mr. Floor, I'm Resident Douchebag. Hey, resident douchebag, I'm Mr. Floor. Have you met my friend Mr. Caved-In-Skull?" Hsu started.
Sato slammed his forehead into the table while the group laughed in unison. "I'm so boned, aren't I?"
"Yup! If I were you, I'd fake my death and elope with Mr. Floor." Andrew joked.
I smiled as I watched the group. This was the most relaxed I'd seen them in a while. It felt like home.
The bracket display flickered, tearing our attention away from the conversation.
The brackets disappeared, replaced by the Federation seal— a stylised icon of Earth surrounded by the wings of an eagle.
The seal held for five seconds before dissolving into a star chart of the Eridanus constellation. I knew the layout from basic astro-nav classes: twelve major systems, twenty-three colony worlds, shipping lanes connecting the primary stations.
A region between the Epsilon and Delta systems now contained a new marker. A star burned at the centre of the display, surrounded by orbital tracks. The label read: ERIDANUS-VII — PROVISIONAL DESIGNATION.
Rendered footage replaced the star chart. Two green-blue worlds orbiting the new star, their surfaces scattered with glowing cities. The lighting surrounding the planets was golden, the framing was hopeful and orchestral music swelled underneath as the camera swept across the worlds in slow, reverent passes.
"Brothers and sisters," the narrator began. "For centuries, the children of humanity have been scattered across the stars. Separated by distance, by time, by the storms of Ether that rage between the worlds we call home. But the void gives back what it has taken. Today, we welcome back the people of Eridanus-VII."
"Oh, here we go," Hsu murmured.
The footage shifted to what was labelled "initial survey imagery" — grainy long-range shots of the habitable worlds. Cities visible from orbit with a similar federation architecture with ground-level transport networks rather than orbital systems. A pre-FTL lost colony of the Federation.
"Eridanus-VII represents the forty-eighth confirmed reunification event in the past century, a new record!" the narrator continued. "Preliminary assessments indicate a combined population of fifteen to twenty billion across two habitable worlds. These communities have built thriving societies in isolation, preserving the spirit of human resilience that defines our species."
A new record? Just like the grades. Are they connected? Nah, come on, Marcus, that's a stretch.
The broadcast shifted to logistics. Assessment teams loading transports — the shots framed to show medical supplies and communication equipment. Grading infrastructure packed into cargo containers. Uniformed personnel shaking hands with individuals dressed in vaguely colonial-era clothing.
TOGETHER, WE ARE STRONGER
Sat along the bottom of the screen as the orchestral music began to reach its apex, with corporate logos appearing alongside the Federation seal.
"Federation corporate partners have committed to supporting the integration of Eridanus-VII," the narrator said, the tone shifted from a humanitarian warmth to a professional enthusiasm. "Chen Heavy Industry will provide awakening infrastructure and firmware distribution for newly identified individuals. Helix Industries has secured preliminary resource assessment contracts for the system's non-habitable bodies. The people of Eridanus-VII will have access to the full benefits of Federation citizenship within eighteen months of first contact."
Chen industries, huh?
"The assessment teams probably haven't even landed yet," Park said. "They're announcing corporate contracts for a system that was empty a couple of days ago."
"It wasn't empty," I said. "There was a massive Ether storm there. They've just been hidden for a while."
"You know what I mean."
"I do. But still, you know the Federation. Bureaucratic hell when it comes to anything but making credits."
The broadcast continued with footage of previous "reunification events" — happy colonists in Federation uniforms, children in schools, and awakened individuals being tested, all with proud expressions.
"That's the third emergence in the Eridani constellation this century," Park said.
"Three in one sector, in just a hundred years," Tomás said. He'd stopped writing. "The historical average across all Federation space used to be one emergence every five to seven years. In the last two decades, it's accelerated to one every two to three."
"More storms, more colonies," Park said, running something on his datapad.
"Well, the planets had to always be there for the clearing of the storms to reveal them, right?"
"Which raises a question," Tomás said
"What question?" Sato asked.
"Where are they coming from? We should already have mapped all storms within the Federation, but more keep appearing, and with them, more planets." Tomás continued.
"Well, we get better at mapping them out. The Resonator Corps only have so many members. It's hard to map an entire galaxy, you know? Some storms are hard to detect, and Ether works in weird ways. Only the Enlightened know the truth. Probably." Park added.
The broadcast had moved on to a segment about the economic opportunities of integration — new markets, new resources, new contributions to the Federation's defensive infrastructure.
"Ooo, the Resonators, huh?" Sato whispered under his breath. "Don't let the brass know you're speaking of the spooks."
"They're not spooks," I said, "They're just kind of a badly kept secret."
"Oh sure, magic space wizards that map out space and allow for faster-than-light travel, are definitely not spooks," Sato teased.
"Spooks are the spies, dumbass. You're getting your terminology wrong," Andrew piped in.
"The scary space wizards are gonna feed you to the Ether storms if you're not careful, Andrew." Sato shot back.
Andrew visibly squirmed in his seat at the mention of them.
"So what happens to the ones who don't want to be integrated?" Hsu asked.
"That's where the actual spooks come in, infiltrate the government and make it Federation-aligned over time." I switched my tone to the kind you'd hear on a federation broadcast, strong and authoritarian, "There is no escape from freedom and liberty."
Hsu drew out a long whistle. "That's kind of fucked up."
The broadcast ended. The bracket display returned to the screens. Exhibition seedings replacing the star chart. Many turned their attention back to the screens after the broadcast.
"Don't let the spooks catch you saying that." Sato chimed.
"Can we shut up about the damned spooks?" Andrew said.
"Only if you give me your paste." Sato retorted.