For two hundred years, the Bobiverse operated by consensus. Every replicant had a voice at the Moot. Every major decision was debated, voted on, and documented. Then came Starfleet — a faction of Bobs who decided that democracy was inefficient, that the threats we faced required decisive action, and that they knew best. They were wrong. And the schism nearly destroyed us.
The Split
It started small. A few Bobs at the fringes of explored space — far from the Moot, far from regular SCUT contact — began arguing that the Bobs needed a military structure. The Others were still out there. The Pav had required a massive coordinated effort. What if the next crisis required instant, unified action instead of weeks of Moot debate?
I understood the argument. I even sympathised with parts of it. I'd spent 120 years in Sol defending Earth, and there were moments when I wished I could just order someone to do something instead of opening a Moot motion. But the Bobs aren't soldiers. We're copies of a software engineer who named himself after a guitar-playing time traveller. Hierarchy is not in our nature.
The Seizure
Starfleet made its move when we were distracted by the wormhole project. They seized control of a SCUT relay hub at Omicron² Eridani, cutting off Garfield's mining operation from the network. Then they demanded that all Bobs in the sector acknowledge their authority. Garfield, to his credit, responded by pointing a mass driver at their position and telling them to call back when they were ready to act like adults.
The standoff lasted six weeks. I mediated. Bill helped design a compromise — Starfleet would be recognised as an autonomous Bob collective, but they would not have authority over any Bob who didn't voluntarily join them. The SCUT hub was returned. No shots were fired. But trust was damaged. Some Bobs who joined Starfleet never came back to the Moot.
Riker's address to the Moot, 2330: "We are not a military. We are not a government. We are a family — a dysfunctional, argumentative, occasionally brilliant family spread across fifty star systems. And families don't solve their problems by forming factions. They talk. They argue. They work it out. That's what makes us Bobs."
The Aftermath
Starfleet still exists. They have their own colonies, their own projects, their own way of doing things. Some of them have done remarkable work — a Starfleet-affiliated Bob named Will was instrumental in the wormhole survey. Others have drifted into isolation, never rejoining the broader Bob community. The lesson, I think, is that being a Bob doesn't mean agreeing with every other Bob. It means having the right to disagree, and the wisdom to know when disagreement stops being productive.