Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [301]

This military force would serve as the armed enforcer of internal proposals, ensuring that each nation adhered to its commitments or assisting those suffering from aggression and the threat of war in restoring peace through force.

All actions would be determined by a vote among the representatives of each civilization—a highly democratic process.

Any proposal that passed would be mandatory for all member states. Failure to comply would result in sanctions from the Starborne Collective.

Among the various proposals listed, there were mentions of technological assistance and knowledge-sharing. After all, who among them, having lived on Jarilo-VI for a time, wouldn’t envy the Empire’s cutting-edge technology?

Furthermore, member nations would no longer have to live in constant fear of potential disasters or invasions from the Antimatter Legion or the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. Within this organization, every member nation would be a mutual pillar of support!

Especially since...

Both the Interstellar Rift Empire and the Xianzhou Alliance would join as permanent council members, voluntarily assuming the responsibility of safeguarding the interests of all member nations.

The Empire’s position needed no explanation. As for the Xianzhou Alliance, its martial prowess still held considerable weight in the interstellar arena—after all, it was the only civilization that had waged war against the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus and won repeatedly!

With these two giants backing the organization, member states could expect comprehensive protection. Besides, this was just a political alliance, not some scheme where the Empire or Xianzhou would station troops in their territories, exploit resources, or enforce monopolistic trade policies…

To many leaders and high-ranking officials, this organization seemed like a way to band together for collective security—fair, just, and entirely beneficial with no discernible downsides!

As soon as Chen Lin declared, "Distinguished guests, please review the Starborne Collective Charter carefully," the hall erupted into discussion.

Each civilization’s representatives engaged in fervent debate over the finer details of the proposal. Beneath this grand vision, no one could suppress their excitement—especially the leaders of civilizations long plagued by war and economic crises. Their eyes burned with eagerness as they pored over the document in their hands.

...

Onstage, Chen Lin settled back into his seat between Bronya and Seele. Bronya gently placed a hand on his knee, signaling him with her gaze.

Following her line of sight, Chen Lin noticed a middle-aged man holding the document, seemingly absorbed in reading. However, for those proficient in psionics, it was easy to discern that the man’s gaze was unfocused—his attention was elsewhere.

Others, however, might not notice. His mannerisms were meticulously crafted to appear as if he were a desperate leader grasping at salvation.

"Mentor, that is Emperor Morav XIX of Rilu," Bronya conveyed telepathically. "You mentioned that their civilization adheres to the ideology of racial purity, so I kept a close watch. Look at the left side of his chair..."

Chen Lin followed her hint.

The Emperor of the Blood Court had one hand resting on the edge of his seat, the veins bulging beneath his pale skin—he was clearly suppressing some deep-seated discomfort. Though he responded politely to conversations with other leaders, his demeanor still exuded a sense of distant rejection.

Others merely assumed that he was an aloof sovereign from an underdeveloped civilization, unimpressed by the spectacle. It wasn’t uncommon—many rulers carried themselves with an air of pride befitting their station.

Some would even boast of their nation's vast lands, abundant minerals, rich history, and breathtaking landscapes, claiming they had everything one could ever need.

Inevitably, a more skeptical leader would counter with a simple remark: "And yet, you can't even manufacture your own interstellar vessels without corporate assistance."

One sentence was enough to shut them up instantly—because it was the undeniable truth. Any attempt to argue back would only invite ridicule.

"Ignore him. He’ll slip up eventually. Besides, there’s no way they’ll join the Starborne Collective I proposed." Chen Lin gently squeezed Bronya’s soft hand in reassurance.

Bronya nodded. She was no longer the shy, inexperienced girl she once was. After all, they had been together for so long—there was no reason to feel embarrassed anymore.

"Should I go up and speak now?"

"Go ahead."

Bronya stepped onto the stage and briefly introduced the Starborne Collective's structure and the enforceability of its proposals. She also provided examples of how the Empire had previously assisted suffering member civilizations.

Each person in attendance represented at least one planetary civilization, and they all approached matters from the perspective of their own nation's interests. Empty rhetoric meant little to them, so Bronya, following Chen Lin’s advice, presented them with the Empire’s Hundred-Billion Subsidy Initiative—real, tangible benefits.

The Empire would, with the consent of struggling member civilizations, deploy specialized teams to help stabilize their economies, offer free assistance in economic reconstruction, and address financial crises.

If a member nation of the Starborne Collective faced an invasion, they could request military aid from the Empire, which would eliminate the threat and even assist in post-war reconstruction at no cost.

For crises that could jeopardize an entire civilization, member states could always turn to the Empire for support. And in return? The Empire would not demand exorbitant compensation—only a few minor concessions:

• Permission to establish a handful of small mining facilities.

• Authorization to open a few factories.

• And most importantly—consent to build a harmless stellar military base.

Bronya phrased these conditions tactfully. None of the leaders in attendance found them unreasonable.

After all, when your very existence was at stake, wouldn’t you be willing to pay a little for salvation?

A few plots of land and some mining rights were trivial matters. Many ruling families within these civilizations controlled thousands of lucrative mineral zones—what was a mere fraction of that? The Empire's modest requests were clearly made out of consideration for their new allies.

And the stellar military base?

A joke.

They welcomed it.

In fact, many of them hoped the Empire would station troops right at their doorstep—who would dare provoke them then?

Chen Lin smiled and addressed the assembly:

"The Starborne Collective is newly established, with its headquarters in Belobog. You are welcome to take your time in considering this proposal. If your civilization is interested, you may apply to join at any time through either myself or General Jing Yuan. If you wish to observe first or find this proposal unappealing—no hard feelings! This family will always welcome the civilizations of the stars with open arms!"

No one had expected the Empire to be so generous. And this Governor—so approachable.

There was no coercion, no veiled threats—just a genuine invitation, with the freedom to wait and see.

This won over many hesitant civilizations, earning the Empire immense goodwill.

After all, joining an alliance wasn’t always a decision a single leader could make. Many civilizations operated under democratic systems, and even authoritarian regimes had various stakeholders. Unless they were absolute dictatorships, no ruler could simply declare their nation part of the Starborne Collective on a whim.

They needed time—to convene meetings, hold votes, and weigh the pros and cons.

Meanwhile, some leaders—trapped in the trade stranglehold of interstellar corporations—were contemplating whether they should confide in the Governor.

If they chose to join…

Would he be willing to risk offending the IPC to rescue their civilization from perpetual economic enslavement?

Amidst the lively banquet, every civilization’s leader harbored their own private calculations.

In the densely packed crowd, only one figure made her way to the head of the banquet table. She placed her right hand over her left shoulder—a formal gesture of respect in her civilization.

"Governor, Grand Guardian, I am Fia·Kedchin·Peris, a representative of Sterbe. You may call me Fia. Our civilization is very interested in the Starborne Collective. May we join?"

Several people at the table, including Chen Lin, were momentarily taken aback. He had anticipated that Sterbe would eventually choose to join, but he hadn’t expected them to express their stance so directly, right here and now.

It was an unexpected turn.

"Of course. Miss Fia, please take a seat first."

Hiding his surprise, Chen Lin gestured for the princess to sit while simultaneously opening his Communicator to check on the current state of her nation.

[Sterbei-I: Stability 20%, Crime Rate 85%.]

Half a month ago, when Fia had first arrived, Chen Lin had reviewed the planet’s situation several times. Back then, its stability was still at 47%, and the crime rate hovered around 60%. Troubled, certainly—but not nearly as disastrous as it was now. Yet in such a short span of time, Sterbei's decline had become almost unimaginable.

Stability reflected the normal functioning of a nation’s economy and society, while crime rate measured unlawful activities, including various immoral behaviors among the populace.

Since definitions of "morality" varied across civilizations, achieving 100% stability and 0% crime was practically impossible—even the most harmonious societies had some level of disorder. Jarilo-VI, for example, only managed to maintain perfect order thanks to the Psionic Legion and a large number of telepaths keeping the peace.

Of course, Chen Lin's utopian governance, where material and spiritual fulfillment were both abundant, also played a major role.

Beyond that, there was also an unusual planetary modifier affecting Sterbei-I:

[Lord Ravager's Presence]

• Stability -10%

• Research Output -20%

• Population Upkeep +20%

• District Cap -2

"The Lord Ravager 'Phantylia' has been sighted on this planet. Her destructive actions have instilled widespread fear. Hundreds of thousands of troops have perished, and multiple cities have been reduced to ruins overnight..."

"She will disappear in 1,065 days."

So Phantylia had made an appearance.

But considering her reputation, she hadn’t actually done too much damage—just wiping out a few districts. That was surprisingly restrained for a being of her nature.

In any case, the current stability and crime rates made it clear: the autocratic empire of Sterbei was teetering on the brink of collapse.

Without some kind of miracle, this six-hundred-year-old dynasty would soon come crashing down.

Seeing these figures, Chen Lin immediately understood why this wolfkin princess was in such a hurry.

She couldn't afford to return home and go through the proper diplomatic process—her civilization was running out of time.

Fia pursed her lips as she took her seat. Earlier, when she had been seated farther away, the difference in status hadn’t felt so overwhelming. But now, at the most prestigious table of the banquet, the contrast in power between her nation and the Empire was impossible to ignore.

"I need to confirm something. Miss Fia, are you certain you have the authority to sign the Starborne Collective’s accession treaty on behalf of your nation?"

Chen Lin took a stack of documents from Pela.

"There’s a lot covered in here. And signing on paper alone doesn’t mean much—member states are required to take real, tangible actions."

Fia quickly responded, "I’ve read the Blue Book. I understand everything you’ve outlined. My mother has entrusted me with national authority, and in our civilization, all power is concentrated in the imperial throne. I am fully authorized to sign the accession treaty on our behalf."

"I see." Chen Lin raised his hand slightly. "However, as noted in the agreement, permanent council members conduct an assessment period for all applicants. This is to verify the internal conditions of any civilization seeking to join... Of course, it's just a standard procedure. It takes some time—do you understand that?"

"I…"

Fia froze.

The very thing she had feared most had now been laid bare.

The Empire wasn’t trying to reject their membership outright. The assessment period was a normal process—meant to gather information on new members and allow existing members to adjust accordingly.

For any other civilization, this wouldn’t be a problem.

But Sterbei didn’t have that kind of time.

Fia had no idea what was happening back home at this very moment.

Before she had left, entire cities had already fallen—seized by various insurgent factions, many of whom had inexplicably acquired large caches of alien technology and power armor.

Even though the Lord Ravager Phantylia had, for some reason, descended like a god and obliterated both the IPC forces and the rebels, she had also crippled the Sterbei Empire itself in the process.

Now, Sterbei was a shattered state, its remnants too broken to fight. The warring factions were simply staring each other down, waiting to see who would move first—which was the only reason Fia had even managed to escape to the Empire in the first place.

But the insurgents had access to superior weapons and medical resources. They would recover far more quickly than the empire.

Who could say when they might suddenly launch a renewed offensive?

And with Sterbei’s economy in complete collapse, millions of unemployed citizens were already fueling even more internal unrest…

Sterbei couldn't afford to wait.

At the table, Bronya had no knowledge of Sterbei’s internal situation. Nor did she know that it was Chen Lin himself who had ordered Phantylia to drive out the IPC forces, inadvertently causing the current predicament.

But she could sense Fia’s anxiety.

"Princess Fia, does your nation face a pressing difficulty?"

"Y-Yes… There are some urgent challenges."

Fia hesitated, feeling both awkward and powerless.

She knew there was no point in trying to deceive the Empire—not when they could uncover everything in mere moments.

So, she made a decision.

Clenching her teeth, she laid out part of Sterbei’s situation—though she carefully avoided explicitly blaming the corporations.

As soon as Bronya heard that Sterbei had suffered a massive insurgency immediately after its trade negotiations with the corporations had failed, she suddenly smiled in understanding.

Ah.

So that’s how it is.

This was the textbook corporate market-expansion strategy—one that everyone already knew about.

The entire process was identical to those "rumors" circulating across the galaxy.

Fia, meanwhile, could only watch as Bronya suddenly smiled knowingly before glancing silently at Chen Lin.

Fia felt increasingly uneasy, her heart pounding in her chest.

Just when she could barely stand the silence any longer, Bronya finally spoke.

"The Empire deeply sympathizes with Sterbei's plight. After the banquet, please remain here, Princess Fia. We will discuss this matter further in the Qlipoth Fort"

---

This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!