A blue-skied colony world has spent thirty years turning alien inheritance and Martian discipline into a civilization built for expansion.
Nearly three decades after Winston Duarte's breakaway fleet entered through the Laconia Gate, Laconia has become a city, culture, and tightly ordered state. Its bright cerulean sky hangs above dogwhistle fronds, hissing grunchers, and a capital deliberately built at a scale far beyond its present population. The immense alien orbital construction platform remains faintly visible overhead.
The planet's institutions combine patient futurism with ruthless accountability. University of Laconia studies alien technology, The Pen consumes condemned bodies to supply active protomolecule, and armored troops guard the immense State Building of Laconia. Everything serves the future Duarte intends to impose, and no person's value places them beyond consequences.
A colony world beneath a bright cerulean sky and cottony clouds, with long dogwhistle fronds, cricketlike grunchers, an oversized stone capital, and an enormous skeletal orbital platform faintly visible above.
Laconia is both Duarte's isolated imperial project and the unique base from which humanity's alien inheritance is being engineered into power.
Also appears in books you've already read — spoiler-safe to their endings: