I've long wanted to write a SF novel to call this out: one where we're swept up into grand galactic events, but we're a small backwater. If a GS-15 in power A writes a memo, we're dead. So we grovel, fear, and ingratiate. Brin's Uplift series did something like this. https://twitter.com/ne0liberal/status/1099689876172300288 …
oh, I thought you were making a joke about the US Revolution, and I was playing along
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it's been many years since I've read the "Uplift" series, but my recollection is that the Earthlings, uplfited primates and dolphins largely had a "we're sneaky, violent and cunning; fuck with us at your peril" attitude toward hostile Galactics.
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(Not that they couldn't be squashed like bugs by Galactics, but that they'd go down swinging rather than become a "client race".)
End of conversation
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