It All Started With Magnets

.15.

I had taken my ship to the research station the scientists were based out of. They had a large hangar where they worked on modifying their engines to make them faster. I had been surprised at how quickly they had abandoned all prior modifications and shut down the various research bays as they made room for my ship. I had only known they had abandoned all other modifications and research because when I brought my ship in, there were still remnants of the work stations they must have used that were hastily taken apart and random papers were scattered everywhere.

I had felt a little guilty about that. The magnetic propulsion engine seemed to be their newest focus and a part of me wondered about the aliens who had spent years of their lives learning and training to work with their engines and how to improve them only to suddenly be told to close up shop and stop all research because it was now made defunct. It was something I did mention but my worries were brushed off with a simple 'innovation is always something to be celebrated'. Which I did understand and to be honest all the scientists had seemed more than excited when my ship arrived.

I had to admit that my ship looked rather... rough next to the sleek lines of the hangar and even their ships. I could definitely tell it wasn't nearly as high tech. Which had been a bit embarrassing but everyone had seemed to marvel at the fact that I had managed to travel so far in space in something so 'primitive'. At'kat'vo and Il'tig had greeted me first, along with more K'gtar scientists and told me that they had spent a good portion of the night after the space trips, designing how to reduce the 'overly dangerous rattle' my ship had when it reached high speeds. Their conclusion was a single formed nano carbon structure on the outside.

At'kat'vo had clicked at me 'no seams, no rattle'.

I had told them they could do whatever they wanted to ensure they were satisfied with how safe it was. They had seemed pleased with that and then that had devolved my life into nearly a week long research cram session with me at the center of it. They had wanted to know each and every possibility and capability of the engine, the good, the bad, the truly horrendous. I had been leery of that, of course I had been. They had wanted schematics and the exact purposes of what each variation of the engine could do. As someone who wanted to mitigate the negative effects, I had wanted to say no.

Then I had been introduced to The Accords.

The Accords was the Galactic Union's peace agreement. Which was the simplest way to explain it. It went far and beyond a simple, 'we won't war with you', type of document that countries signed to ensure peace. It was a massive, collective grouping of inventions, treaties, laws, binding legislation that make up the very core of the Galactic Union that required a minimum of a hundred different people, each assigned a single section, to be able to go through it all in any sort of timely manner. It was big and for a good reason. Every single invention that had ever been made, for good or bad, had been shoved into The Accords along with how it was to be used and what uses were strictly prohibited.

If the Council of Lev'twi brought up to the other Councils that someone had discovered, perhaps a thermo-nucleus radial cluster ray that instantly fried the neurons of the brain of whoever was unfortunate enough to be in the way, it was added the The Accords under the section of 'This is how this is made, this is what this does, don't ever fucking build or use it'. Which I hadn't made up. Four hundred years prior, a k'gtar and a hant scientist were testing out a device that theoretically was supposed to help activate neurons in those that were functionally brain dead to try and jump start them to bring them back and they created a device that immediately fried neurons instead. Completely accidental but due to the serious nature of the mistake, it was added to The Accords and needed to be signed by each individual Ambassador and the Supreme Council to show they wouldn't build or use it.