Lun Bay’s job was to belong to neither side.

The Gald Union and the Terius Republic each controlled a single star system. The two systems sat just over three light-years apart — practically next-door neighbors on any cosmic scale. They had traded for centuries, gone to war more than once, and now, for the first time, there was talk of unification.

Lun had been dispatched by the Galactic Central Mediation Bureau, a neutral third-party agency. His title was “Integration Preparatory Committee — Interstitial Liaison Officer.” In plain terms: he listened to both sides and kept things organized.

That morning, the Gald Union’s contact, Kamil Arosh, reached out in person.

“Lun. This evening, the Gald side will submit our formal unification proposal.” Kamil dropped his voice. “This is strictly confidential — there’s a core element we don’t want the Terius side to see before official disclosure. We’d prefer to submit it directly to the committee, not through you. But we need you to have the full picture in advance.”

He held out a thick folder. Lun took it and tucked it into his bag.

At noon, Terius Republic liaison Pal Est called on a video link.

“Lun. This evening, the Terius side will be submitting our unification proposal.” Pal, too, lowered her voice. “This is strictly confidential — there’s a core element we don’t want the Gald side to see before official disclosure. We’d prefer to submit it directly to the committee, not through you. But we need you to have the full picture in advance.”

She transferred a data file. Lun received it and saved it to his bag.

“Confidential,” he muttered to himself.

In his line of work, being told “just between us” by both parties was standard. He’d heard it so many times the phrase had lost all meaning.

That evening, Lun spread both documents across his hotel room. He opened the Gald folder. He pulled up the Terius file on his screen. He compared them.

He read the first line and stopped cold.

Gald Union Unification Proposal, opening clause: “Both star systems’ administrative structures shall be merged on equal footing, with the central governing body established at a third neutral body — the orbit of the Mediation Station currently occupied by Lun Bay. A federal system granting equal decision-making authority to representatives of both parties shall be adopted. The foregoing constitutes the core proposal.”

Terius Republic Unification Proposal, opening clause: “Both star systems’ administrative structures shall be merged on equal footing, with the central governing body established at a third neutral body — the orbit of the Mediation Station currently occupied by Lun Bay. A federal system granting equal decision-making authority to representatives of both parties shall be adopted. The foregoing constitutes the core proposal.”

Word for word. Identical.

Lun turned the pages. The proposed transition timelines matched. The ministry consolidation plans matched. The joint currency design matched — down to the phrasing.

”…Oh.”

He looked back and forth between the screen and the paper. Had one stolen from the other? Coincidence? No — this was too perfect for coincidence.

After a moment, he started laughing.

Both “confidential” documents were the template Lun himself had drafted three months ago for the bureau’s internal use. He had attached a note: This may be distributed to both parties as reference material.

Apparently, each side had taken that template and submitted it — almost verbatim — as their own independent proposal. Their “core element.” Their secret.

Lun wrote the following in his mediation report:

“The two parties’ proposals are in complete agreement. I therefore determine that the integration negotiations have, in a technical sense, already reached consensus. The process will be complete once both sides disclose their proposals simultaneously and discover that each has arrived independently at the same conclusion. This office will make no reference to the fact that both documents are identical to the provided template.”

At the next morning’s session, Kamil and Pal read each other’s proposals. A silence fell over the room. Then Kamil spoke.

”…They’re the same.”

“They are,” Pal said.

The two looked at each other. Then they shook hands.

Lun sipped his coffee and remembered there was one more case where the same template would probably come in handy.


When two bodies draw each other closer, each one seems to move on its own — yet both are obeying the same gravity. Like a quasar pair that reveals an ongoing galaxy merger, two parties that reach the same conclusion have already begun to merge.