You venerate purity for its own sake, a most pointless exercise. Pure Iron is brittle, corrodes and shatters easily. Pure copper or tin do not have the strength of bronze. Alloys are Stronger
There was a civilisation on Tsarkis. If one could call it that. In the Galactic Alliance’s opinion, it barely passed the bar.
For a start, there was a very rigid caste system. Enforced by the military caste and massive walls that divided district from district. Few, if any, were allowed any kind of social or geographic mobility.
And as for the ruling caste…
Inbreeding had done its work. There were family lines distinguishable by their noses or foreheads or chins. They were all pale and frail albinos. Physically weak, twisted things.
All except for the ruling family of one island-continent in the tropics. There, the hostile life that bred there had lead to a high mortality rate, even amongst the high-born.
Therefore, every fifty years, they had a true Cinderella Ball. Anyone who was unmarried, with the means to arrive in a certain city by a certain date, had the chance to meet and mingle with the crown heir.
It was unorthodox, and frowned upon by the twisted and grotesque examples in the other city-states. And every kind of broken taboo.
And yet, that island-continent was the strongest of all the disparate nations extant on Tsarkis… and the other royalties continually borrowed from their line.
Of course, the instant that the Galactic Alliance set up a trading post on that planet, the potential for chaos increased exponentially with every passing day. Which was just how the Alliance liked it.
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