At the far end of the table, a stern-faced general from U.S. Strategic Command frowns. "If they wanted to, they could wipe us out. We all know it. So do we talk about building fallback options, or do we accept there's no conventional or nuclear path if they choose conflict?"

"That's what we're here to figure out," the brigadier replies. "Rationally, there's no scenario in which we can come out on top in a direct confrontation. Their capacity to manipulate gravitational forces, open wormholes, hack every system at will—these are unstoppable. But what if conflict never happens? Their official statements and that fox's social media presence repeatedly emphasize that they don't need to forcibly subjugate us. They claim they can wait for us to adopt their standards or fail on our own."

A younger tactician from Army Intelligence, sporting the bars of a lieutenant colonel, flips through his notes. "It's not quite as cut-and-dried. We can't read their true goals. If they're lying about their peaceful intentions, we must prepare for an eventual attack, or at least a scenario where we might need to save pockets of humanity. But if they are honest about wanting minimal interference and letting us adapt ourselves, then a militaristic posture might antagonize them unnecessarily. Right now, all we can do is measure how unstoppable they'd be in a direct fight—and the conclusion is obvious: we can't stop them. We can't even slow them down. The question is, do we pivot our entire national security strategy toward monitoring them and hoping for diplomatic channels, or do we continue as normal, hoping they remain hands-off?"

"Monitoring them is borderline impossible, sir," Colonel Franklin mutters. "Talax sees everything we type the moment it hits a digital format. We can't develop or deploy a new weapons system without them knowing, unless we're fully offline and using non-digital records. But even then, the moment we test a missile or gather a large force, Atanda could warp in to investigate. Evtalo might give us some cosmic lecture about morality. So a covert military buildup to face them is unworkable. Our satellites can't keep secrets from an intelligence that can hack them from orbit or step out of a screen in the control room."

The Marine general exhales sharply. "So from a purely strategic standpoint, we can't deter them by force. All conventional logic about alliances or stockpiling advanced systems is worthless if they can appear behind our lines, or simply warp the technology away. They've shown no aggression, though. So we might accept that we're not about to stage a war—maybe it's about what they call 'moral frameworks'? We can't fight them, so we adapt to them, or ignore them?"

A stony silence follows. Another officer, this one a senior adviser from the Joint Chiefs of Staff, speaks up. "This is bigger than a traditional military challenge. Possibly our best 'defense' is to show we aren't a threat, or that we're making internal progress. We all saw how other governments that tried to stand firm or manipulate them got dismissed as 'immoral dysfunctions.' If we come off as an aggressive superpower, they may judge us the same. They might starve us of information or guidance, or in a worst-case scenario, step in to neutralize us if they see us as a menace."

His words confirm the feeling many in the room already harbor: the standard pillars of global power—nuclear deterrence, carrier groups, ballistic missile defense—are worthless in the face of an entity that can literally alter celestial bodies and see through every digital screen on the planet. Another hush lingers before Colonel Franklin flips a page in her notes and addresses a different angle.

"We also have to consider that their approach isn't to subjugate us. Our analysts suggest the UUM is methodically using public communications—Twitter, that unstoppable website, direct messages to random citizens—to pressure governments to fix themselves. They've singled out corruption, authoritarianism, destructive environmental policies. This is more like a psychological or socio-political operation than an invasion. In a sense, the threat is: 'If you keep screwing up, we might do something about it. But we won't do it forcibly. You'll transform yourselves out of fear or peer pressure.' That puts us in an odd position. Should we try to cooperate? Or do we try to resist and maintain sovereignty? We can't exactly negotiate a stand-down, because they're not demanding anything overt beyond 'Stop being immoral, fix your systems.'"

The older brigadier general looks around the table for input. "Any ideas, then? We can't mount a direct defense. We can't hack them. Our attempts at infiltration into their systems are guaranteed to fail. Even if we built a new kind of stealth craft, that deer could just warp in and toss it into orbit. The fox could sabotage it midflight from a million miles away. So do we turn to diplomacy, or do we remain idle?"

A thickset Air Force colonel speaks, eyes fixed on the footage of the moon's repaired fractures. "Diplomacy might be too grand a word. We can't even get them to respond to official messages beyond the auto-responses. They engage more readily with local communities or random requests. We might consider a low-key approach: funnel beneficial requests or global improvements through private or civic channels. Maybe if we solve some of our internal dysfunction—like corporate corruption, political stalemates, or social inequalities—they'll see us more favorably. That might, ironically, become our best 'national defense' plan: demonstrate we're not a threat, that we're actively working to reduce harm and so we're no target for cosmic policing."

Murmurs of reluctant agreement spread around the table. Another official, from a think tank attached to the National Security Council, shakes his head. "It's an upside-down scenario. Usually, we outgun or outsmart adversaries. Now we're asked to better ourselves ethically to avoid confrontation or irrelevance. We can build a thousand stealth jets, and it won't matter. The only route that might keep us relevant is basically moral or social betterment—less corruption, fewer questionable foreign interventions, more equitable policies. The UUM's approach punishes power grabs and oppressive tactics. Even if we wanted to be pragmatic about it, we might realize we need to fix our public image—both domestically and internationally—so we don't become labeled as an 'immoral dysfunction.' The rest is out of our hands."

The Marine general snorts. "Feels like cosmic blackmail. 'Behave or we'll stay watching you from orbit forever.' But I guess it's better than a direct alien attack. Another question: do we secretly keep a contingency plan for worst-case scenarios? Like if they do become hostile, can we hide out in bunkers, preserve leadership, create a last-resort safe zone?"

One of the intelligence officers pipes up. "We've discussed that. If the UUM turned hostile, bunkers are worthless. They can warp anything they want. They can hack our air filtration systems, our nuclear launch codes. If they decided to eliminate us, there's no viable fallback. The only contingency is literally an unconnected location with absolutely no modern technology, shielded from all electromagnetic signals. But even that might not matter if they can manipulate gravitational fields. They could destroy entire regions from orbit. So let's be clear: from a strategic standpoint, there is no fallback. Our best bet is to assume they don't want total annihilation—which everything suggests they don't—and figure out how to keep them from changing their minds."

Silence again. The brigadier general tentatively sums it up: "So from a purely military vantage, we have no conventional or unconventional response that isn't instantly nullified by their capabilities. Our nuclear triad can't deter them. Our satellites can't outspend or outmaneuver them. Our best analysts can't out-hack them. So we pivot from active deterrence to a posture of moral alignment, or at least compliance with their broad demands to 'stop being immoral.' That includes reinforcing democracy at home, checking corporate corruption, policing ourselves internationally. Essentially, we're forced to become better global citizens out of fear we'll irritate an advanced cosmic civilization. It's an unthinkable dynamic, but that's what the data says."

No one contradicts him. In the clashing silence, they realize that the fundamental shift in Earth's power structure has already occurred. The UUM's presence transcends the old rules of warfare or deterrence. The generals and strategists, brought up on decades of conventional analysis and threat assessment, stand before a scenario that defies everything. They might refine these conclusions, package them for the upper echelons of civilian leadership, but the gist is simple: The UUM is unstoppable. Confrontation is hopeless. Humanity's sole path is to adapt, to reexamine its own society, or to risk cosmic retribution in ways no weapon can deflect.

The meeting ends on that somber note of reluctant acceptance. Paperwork is gathered; screens go dark, leaving only the residual image of that purple-glowing deer from the earlier briefing. As the officers file out, each wears the same grim expression, half-frustrated at the lack of any direct solution, half-relieved that the UUM shows no immediate intention of striking. In that moment, it's painfully clear: the unstoppable force sits overhead, at once indifferent and watchful, and all the might of the U.S. military stands powerless to do anything but strive for moral improvement and hope it's enough.

Feb 8th 2027. It was 6 months give or take since #FirstContact2026, as many online called it. Many got used to the humor of Talax, his response to contacts, and his occasional tweets.The Official UUM twitter that was oddly silent(and still without an icon, or banner for some unknown reason). Posted this "Talax here. The team assigned to your planet is known as an 'integration team', within the UUM. That's me, and the other two you saw. They will likely be involved with you, for the foreseeable future. As an integration team is a semi-permanent, lasting as long as it takes. Besides, most UUM citizens have huge lifespans. That's why integration, we give so much time for. Also, me and the GANG will be going to a meeting with a higher up here for the week, we will not be around. Don't nuke yourselves while we are gone. Also, the contacts page will be offline. " Soon after the tweet, LIGO reports in their 'wormhole tracker' project they developed, worked. That a wormhole formed just 38 minutes after the tweet. Showing... they likely did as the tweet said, and left for a meeting through a wormhole. Likely going to be gone for a week. Though the LIGO team is stoked that their tracker works, and can identify wormhole gravitational wave signatures.

Feb 18th 2027. A week passes quietly. Then... the LIGO detector goes off once more, as they announced another wormhole was detected, and they had likely returned. Then... 2 hours later, a tweet goes out from the official UUM twitter.. Still with no icon, or banner. As it says "A local organization from within the wider UUM society has agreed to cooperate with your integration team. Us. A few of their members have arrived on our space station already, and we are planning neat things for you next year, as we work for your future benefit. Regardless, they will help with some cultural sharing between you, and the UUM. Just to clarify some of UUM's structure. The integration teams are managed, and sent out by the UUM's internal government, managed by the Integration SubSector of the Cultural Sector. Anyway, besides that. This organization has translated their name to English, and it can be called by you ''Worlds of a Feather'. 

Though I will note that... translation is a loose term when it comes to names in the UUM. Organizations will often just pick new names, based on their original names in Multi Common, and just stick to it. Furthermore, later this year, we will run a public Q&A, where the top questions related to science, and or about integration, and UUM law, will inform the decision of 3 documents to be posted to you. Along with that, we are going to be more active now that some documents have been signed, and we can do a few more things."

Feb 19th, 2027. Then... suddenly the next day, the UUM twitter, website, and youtube channel... got icons, and banners. The icon was the letters 'UUM' in magenta, and gold patterns, within a bubble of stars, with other bubbles of stars attached. On a white background. Many wondered what the symbol means, or its design choices. As well as... one big mystery that had consumed the internet for months... Where does the name 'UUM' come from? As the UUM aliens themselves say it as 'U-U-M'. Though how it's said in 'Multi Common' their main language, is unknown. Many wish they shared their main language with humanity, though no word on that. Though linguists did analyze what few clips of it, they have.