The throngs cheered. Banners waved. Confetti frustrated the after-party's cleanup staff. In front of Cerea's parliament, Pro Moon smiled and waved from atop his platform erected earlier that day. Below, his supporters expressed their joy as above them all the results of the election were reported on a huge holoprojector.

"People of Cerea," Pro Moon began, waving broadly to encompass everything before him. "Tonight, you have voted for unity - unity in Cerea, unity in the West, unity in the Coalition! And as your Prime Minister for this second term, I promise I will deliver it to you!"

The cheering kicked up again. The black and red banners of the Coalition clashed with the white and blue colours of Cerea, held aloft by the crowd. Pro Moon took a moment to turn and smile to his election staff and political supporters on one side of the platform, then to the Coalition dignitaries, public officials, and guests of honour on the other side.

Grasping his podium with both hands, the grinning Pro Moon continued his acceptance speech. "All across the west this cycle, the news has been the same. Everywhere there is talk of Western Unity, of nation-hood, of taking our place amongst the greatest of the Coalition. It is the realization of our potential, and with your support tonight, we can finally make it happen!

"I thank you all for your contributions this election season, and I extend my honourable congradulations to my opponants, but the people of Cerea have spoken. Now is the time to lead the West forwards towards our destiny!"

Again, the cheers rose, drowning out any attempt to extend the speech. Pro Moon basked in it for as long as it lasted. As a consumate politician, his biorythem was set by moments like this, and the disquieting collapse of talks at the last cross-Coalition conference had worn at his mind. Now however, resplendent in his ornate robes of state, he was reborn.

And soon, he reminded himself. So too will be the West.



The morning after is rarely as dramatic as the night previous. This is one of the few unbending universal laws of society that applies to all species and all civilizations. So too was it the case for the newly-reelected Prime Minister of Cerea, Pro Moon, who was also now Interim Prime Minister of the West.

After the victory of the Western Unity party in the pan-West elections the night before, they had unanimously agreed to forming an interim Western government even before going to sleep. From the Rakattan Regent who had just received his results to the Lord of Riflor whose term was renewed thanks to crippling depression sinking voter turnout, each world agreed that their disparate people should unite.

The next day, however, brought hangovers, headaches, and relatively little actual progress to show for it. Pro Moon awoke.

"Wuzzat?" he murmured, glancing around his room. "Morning already?"

His wife (or simply "Mrs. Moon") glared at him from the doorway, her imperious dress and pointed head giving the sense of an angry traffic cone. "It's lunchtime, actually. Although you'd have known that already if you'd have gone to bed at a sensible hour last night."

Sheepishly rising from his bed and swathing himself in his loose prime-ministerial robes, Pro Moon said "Honey, I was busy, honest. The Unity party was elected unanimously and we had to set a meeting date for the first interim government mee-"

"Oh, so that'd explain the stink of booze and slurred singing at 2:30 in the morning then?" rasped Mrs. Moon as she straightened and adjusted his shoddy dressing.

"I was just tired!" exclaimed Pro Moon, who yanked his robes into place. "I wasn't drinking, I was just-"

Though the previous exchange may seem a setup for a joke about marriages and half-conceived attempts to cover up misbehaviour, in a marriage where both members are part of a naturally psychic race, it's difficult to get away with even pathetic half-lies. Pro Moon gave up and sighed. "Yes, dear."

Finished preening over him for the time being, Mrs. Moon left the Prime Ministerial bedroom, adding "I'll be filling in at social events all week now, because of this election, so I guess it's no bother that you're running off to another conference. You never get anything done at them, I don't see why you bother."

Pro Moon just stayed silent. He didn't even dare think of frustration - again, because even a badly chosen thought could become a relationship nightmare for mind readers. He instead tuned out of the conversation and considered the upcoming meeting - the first session of the Interim Western Parliament.

It was being held at Cerea, which stood above the other worlds of the West in political prominence to the region. The members would be accepted into the temporary quarters of the Western Parliament in the Coalition Building on the outskirts of the city. He and his chosen delegation had but a few hours to prepare for a meeting he hoped would be more profitible than his last.

He realized that his wife had finished speaking and left the room. Able to think freely again, he idly speculated on the cost of a sturdy shovel, and filed through the available plots of land in his backyard.

Finished daydreaming, he departed the scuplted grandure of the Prime Minister's Palace, with its' shimmering steel built into the face of a mountain, and got into the backseat of a waiting speeder.

Captain Ion, his top military commander, nodded to him. "Good morning, Mr. Prime Minister. Congradulations on your reelection yesterday."

"Oh, spare me," said Pro Moon, waving it away. "The matter at hand, if you will. What's that status of the meeting?"

Captain Ion pulled up his datapad and passed it to Pro Moon. "As you can see sir, security is assured for the meeting of parliament. I've got some of my best guys above us and the army's even staked out positions on the ground. So far as I can tell each of the delgations is bringing their own military escort too, and we went ahead and picked up their codes this morning to make sure there are no uninvited guests." The Tynnian commander scratched at his muzzle distractedly. "All in all, nothing to report."

Pro Moon passed the datapad back and stretched out in the speeder. "Well, that's something then. Everyone's left?"

"Yes, sir. We'll be arriving only shortly before the first of them appear in orbit."

"Good, good," said Pro Moon, equally distracted as his captain. "Well... I'm going to catch up on some sleep. Wake me if there are any developments."



Pro Moon opened his eyes gradually, his vision coming into focus. He was seated in the grand hall of the Coalition building, where the interim government had been set up. Podiums and desks were prepared, translators and microphones were on hand. He himself sat in the Prime Minister's seat, looking out at all the empty seats waiting to be filled.

"I said wake me if there are any developments," grumbled Pro Moon. "I should think arriving counted."

"Didn't want to wake you, sir," replied Ion, with a smile. "Don't worry, we've still got a few minutes."

Pro Moon nodded and opened up the datapad in front of him. Time to go through the numbers again.



"Well," murmured Pro Moon. "What a bunch, eh? Hoth, Nkllon, and Mestra's got nothing but mining interests, and Hoth and Anoat are so far out they're only in the Western Province to protect them from the Empire. Everyone on Riflor's depressed, Warmart's inhabited by half-feral retail employees, and Emanon is a living planet - who did it send?"

Ion shrugged "Settlers, I think. I don't know who could stand living on a living planet though. I mean... kind of awkward."

Pro Moon nodded. "Renteg? What the heck's Renteg? Why are they on the list?"

Ion looked embarassed, eventually admitting "I don't actually know. No one seems to. They're just... on the list. Coalition member, it all checks out. Not very talkative."

Pro Moon rubbed his prodigious brow, as he was wont to do when things challenged him. "Well, alright then. So it'll be a learning experience... which is just a nice way of saying we've got a lot to learn."



The delegates continued their debating heedless of Pro Moon's cries for order. In the end he actually had to take off his shoe and slam it on his desk before finally there was silence. "Please, good people, there has to be some sort of concensus. We are men and women of wisdom and vision, if we work together we can find a way past this impasse.

"I mean, King Emoth of the Riffles, you agreed to split your seats with your former colony of Warmart - in doing so, we've written the framework of our national political system. And Regent Y'noo, here representing Queen Asajj of Rattatak, your enlightened views on society helped form half the body of laws! That's impressive! Why then is it the economy that divides us so?"

All around, members of close to a dozen races clustered, murmuring to each other and comparing economic notes. Eventually, Ya'Mana, an elder of the Meradians of Xal 3 rose to his feet, clacking his wide mouth and blinking his yellow eyes in preparation to speak.

"The problem, Prime Minister," said Ya'Mana, "is that we all have different needs. My people are nomadic - we need parts for our crawlers, and we offer little beyond our crafting skills to the people of the West. The miners of Nkllon have all the craftsmen they need, but it is food and other essentials that they need. Each world has people with a specific diet, with specific desires and needs, so that our trade is incompatible with one another."

The delegates began to nod in agreement. "The problem is one of supply," declared Y'noo of Rattaka. "How can there be common regulations with uncommon societies? Economic prosperity with nothing but closed systems all around? Should we look inwards, then, to our own ecomies? Small ponds for small fish?"

The solution slammed Pro Moon like a sack of bricks, causing him to leap from his chair. "No! We don't need a dozen fishbowls, we just need a bigger aqarium!"

This didn't exactly elict the reaction he was expecting. All around people waited for an explination, quietly hoping their esteemed patron hadn't simply lost it.

"Look, Ya'Mana, your people need parts for Crawlers. Cerea doesn't have that type of industry, but Tatooine does. Y'noo, your people are strong workers in stone - not the steel of Nkllon, but the quarries of Onyx. We shouldn't be worrying about trading with each other, if anything, our diversity is a strength in international trade! We can form a united negotiating and trading block to bring wealth and prosperity to our individual worlds."

This idea brought cheers and applause from the delegates, who were rightly pleased with the idea. Ya'Mana rubbed his narrow chin thoughtfully as the idea was praised, considering its' benefits before saying "But if we are to be a nation of traders, to whom shall we go to trade? There is great risk in a merchant strategy as this. Where can we find something for everyone to prove the system works?"

Pro Moon was uncertain, so he consulted his datapad. The delegates waited in silence as he typed in their various economic keywords and statistics, waiting for the results of his search.

After a few moments, a light *ping* signalled that a match had been found.

Pro Moon looked up at the delegates and smiled. "Sinsang. We shall go to Sinsang."

Bei-diang – Capital of Sinsang

Towers of glass and steel spanning forever upward. The claws of the cityscape reaching for the heavens, to seek to challenge the clouds. In between these scrappers of the sky could be spotted the large smokestacks of industry, constantly churning out a greyish smoke. The modern industrial world and all its necessities. Offices, apartments, retail centers, industrial cores…

And yet, somewhere in the mass of all the modern structures and buildings was there something odd. A space that didn’t reach and held itself to the ground. The sounds of life, and the green of trees could be found there. Amongst this was an ancient structure who’s true purpose had become lost to all but scholars and history books. The painted red wood columns, and tiled green roof stood out in the sterile colours of the urban environment. Even though it was little larger than a gazebo, many came to this place when they could escape the confines of their offices.

Much as Zhang Sei was as he sat at a bench in the park to enjoy his lunch in the daylight. It was a simple meal, that many wouldn’t consider a Minister of Finance would eat. A sandwich and a cup of coffee. Sei was too busy as to enjoy anything more than a simple lunch with his schedule as it was. Trying to find a way to get all the wants of the administration, while keeping the treasury in balance was a hard thing to do.

Not to mention that, but the population was beginning to grow in unease. The majority of the population is convinced a GC/TNO conflict is on the horizon and that Sinsang should withdraw from the Coalition while it still had the chance to. Unfortunately few understood the costs of that would likely bankrupt Sinsang and send it into a depression for a decade as they had to spend the costs, once again, to change their lines.

The only thing that Coalition had done to this point was give them a couple of out-dated assault frigates to help secure the trade lanes but that was all that the people had seen.

He would figure things out and be all the wiser from it. Sei smirked a bit as he took a bite out of his sandwich. Despite everything that’s happened to him, he’s still managed to keep on top and he’d be damned if the people would best him.

Brrrrzt.

The pager on his belt began to vibrate. And he was just beginning to enjoy his roast beef sandwich. He took a look at it nearly dropped his sandwich. He couldn’t help but be reminded of an old proverb. ‘The universe provides.’ Sei quickly finished his sandwich and ran back to the office, drinking his coffee along the way. There were arrangements to be made and schedules to be cleared.

Representatives of the West, along with their coin, were coming to Sinsang. It’d be the chance to finally get more trade income and more trade taxes.

------------------------

Arrangements had been made. The Westerners were very vague on exactly what they were looking for so he arranged for representatives from some of Sinsang’s more predominant industries as to meet with them. The small arms manufacturers, the new heavy weapons industry, and the growing droid market. Most whom came to Sinsang sought one of those three in this modern age.

Sei did have more on the backburners just in case these didn’t pan out for the want of the West. He knew full well that this was one of the few and rare opportunities Sinsang would have to exploit anything from this membership with GC other than the possibility of military support.

The spaceport was zooming with activity with a variety of people coming and going. Sei took a quick look at his watch, comparing it to the arrival time listed on the screen overtop of the receiving area. They should be coming along. Did they decide against it? He knew that it was an idle thought since with the way things were going in the Coalition they couldn’t afford to loose Sinsang’s support.

The Empire looked like it was ready to carve up large parts of the Coalition. Sinsang was probably the safest Coalition sector outside of Azguard space. They weren’t much of a threat and hadn’t brought any scuffling against the Empire in the least. In fact, the Sinsangese still were maintaining all their business contracts with the Empire. With the failed attack at raid that happened with support of almost every other people in the Coalition, Sinsang had dropped to the bottom of the Imperial Priority list. But unfortunately, these were chaotic times and places that seemed safe ended up embroiled in conflict. The galaxy seemed to be at the edge of all-out-war constantly.

Business was booming.

But it could be doing so much more.

"Are we in the right place?" said Captain Eisle, looking her visitor's map over with a quizzical expression. "I mean, it looks a little different than in the visitor's guide."

Captain Ion walked over to join her and examine the map, rubbing the thin fur on his chin slowly. "I hear the Sinsangese are big on selling things, so I guess selling their looks means making a few adjustments."

"It looks practically picturesque in the brochure, look. All green grass and exotic trees..."

"Probably a city park somewhere," said Ion, who grinned at the disparity. "Nevermind, we're looking for a trading partner, not a vacation spot."

"Ah, captains!" said an approaching Trandoshan, carting his luggage behind him. "Are we ready to set off? I thought someone would be meeting us here."

"So did I," said Ion, turning to Jargur the diplomat. "Maybe we're early?"

"Oh well, nevermind that," Jargur replied with a smile. "With such an honoured pair of captains as yourselves at hand, we shouldn't have any problems."

"Well that's awful decent of you to say," said Ion, beaming. "Of course, I've never exactly thought of myself as honoured, but now that you mention it..."

"Where'd your friend get to?" said Eisle. "The wookie?"

"Oh, Oaxaca will be along in a few minutes, he was just getting his luggage. Best that he not wander far, he's apt to get lost and without a translator would be quite hopeless in getting home again."

"If what I've heard about Sinsangese eating habits is right, he better not get lost or he'll end up on a menu somewhere," Ion quipped, a cheeky expression earning him disapproving looks from the group's diplomat. "Okay, okay, no more diplomatically disastrous jokes. How about just one more? An Azguard and a Daemun walk into a bar..."

"Rooaooaoroagharah?"

Oaxaca the wookie, a surprisingly skinny and well-groomed wookie in immaculate attire, arrived with a leather suitcase in tow. A tiny mechanical translator around his neck interpreted for him. "Are we ready to go? I'm eager to meet our hosts at long last."

"Just a minute longer, I think," said Eisle, who lowered her map and looked out the Unmitigated - their Claymore Battlecruiser, did I forget to mention it? - 's front viewport at the planet of Sinsang. Besides some very confused traders and a few irritaited local security shisp, they had orbit to themselves. "I wonder what they'll be flying?"

The local defence channels were in an uproar. The planetary defence ships were in a scramble and people were called to their stations. Planetary guns had begun to fire up the second that the unannounced battle cruiser had entered the system. If it had been anything but what it was, the procedure was straight forward and simple. But they didn’t know what to make of this.

This ship of war appeared without announcement was a Coalition ship.

Sinsang’s Moon, Gaising

The naval command center on Gaising was buzzing with activity. People running from console to console and yelling reports at each other. It was a short moment of chaos, in the short couple of minutes since the vessel’s arrival. Chang Wu charged out of his office, his normally cold face marred with irritation. The Coalition arrives unannounced and more importantly his people are running around like a chicken with its head cut off. It was the same drill for any unannounced vessel, be it Imperial, Commonwealth, Coalition, or unknown.

Scramble and prepare for the worst.

The Captain entered the command room and saw the communication officers trying to give out orders as the Captain entered they suddenly silenced. “Lieutenant Tseng, REPORT!” Chang ordered and the young officer suddenly shot to attention.

“A Claymore Battlecruiser sir! It’s registry is as the Unmitigated under the command of Captain Ion.” The lieutenant rambled off some of the registry info. “Shields are not up, and weapons are cold. There’s no apparently hull damage, sir.”

“Open a channel.” Chang said as he came to his post before the radar screen. It showed all green but there in the middle was this large thing that wasn’t supposed to be there. An uninvited guest. “If there’s no response, send an assault shuttle up and send the message through light code.”

“Channel open sir.” Tseng confirmed as a clicking noise was heard.

“This is Captain Chang Wu of the People’s Navy of Sinsang to the captain of the Claymore Battle Cruiser Unmitigated.” Chang began, he managed to keep his tone calm and professional sounding, but with a very cold tint to the tone. “Your ship has not been granted clearance to enter Sinsangese space. Unless you are suffering from damage and need to dock for the safety of your vessel and crew, we request that you withdraw your vessel of war immediately from the Sinsangese system.”

“If you do not withdraw, we shall see this as a breach of the treaty signed between the Sinsangese and the Coalition and as an act of aggression against our sovereignty. You have been warned and have ten minutes to comply.”

Did the fools even read the treaty? That is was an agreement of trade and aid during a time of war? Last the people of Sinsang had heard, there was no war in the north. And if the Coalition wanted to try and start one over the situation with the Onyxians, the Sinsangese didn’t want it based from their home.

The people of Sinsang were on edge, and things like this didn’t help things in the least.

"Wow," remarked Eisle. "They sound... angry. Do either one of you diplomats want to take a shot at calming them down?"

Looking nervous, Jargur turned to Ion. "Normally I would, but in a situation like this I think the good captain should be the one to make first contact, yes? Just say hello and clear up this incident as best you can."

Looking and feeling a little awkward, Captain Ion went over to his comm unit. "Uh, okay, I'll give it a go. You might want to listen in in case I get something wrong though, diplomacy isn't my strong suit."

He cleared his throat and switched on the comm. "No cause for alarm, this is Captain Ion of the Unmitigated. We, uh... we have an appointment?"

His explination was so weak that even his own crew turned from their stations to glance at their captain in dismay. Recovering quickly, Ion sought to explain. "I mean, I'm here from the Western Coalition to speak to representatives of Sinsang about business and trade opportunities between our two states. I don't know why it came as too much of a surprise, I mean we're on time, aren't we?"

Jargur leaned into him, whispering "It may be they didn't expect you to fly a battlecruiser into their system without a little forewarning."

Puzzled, Ion covered his comm and whispered back "They did hear I was Captain Ion, right? What did they think I was going to fly in on? A pleasure yacht?"

"Just reassure them already," said Jargur, who threw up his hands. "Now, before we start another intercoalition incident."

Ion pulled the comm up again. "Okay, let me try that again. I'm Captain Ion from the Western Coalition here to conduct a meeting with representatives from Sinsang who I'm guessing expected us to arrive in something a little smaller. If you'd preffer, we can leave the ship in orbit and shuttle down to the planet, then the Unmitigated could wait a system out for us to finish our business. Sounds fair?"

The people had finally gotten their bearings in the situation and the rag-tag Sinsangese fleet took its positions. Fighters had been scrambled and cruisers took their positions. A couple of Nebulon B-2s took their spots along the line with Corellian Corvettes. The Sinsangese fleet didn’t consist of many advanced or large ships, but their major backing came from the planetary defenses. Not only were there planet-based canons but there were extensive installations found on Gaising.

Chang Wu listened to Captain Ion’s explanation and took a moment to digest it before responding. “You’re cleared to bring in a diplomatic shuttle, but the Unmitigated WILL remove itself from the system afterwards.” Chang Wu commanded of the Coalition dignitaries. “End transmission.”

A simple clicking sound signalled the silence to follow. Chang Wu stood there at the hologram showing the layout of the planetary grid with a solemn face. The Sinsangese were divided about the Coalition and whether or not it has their best interests in mind or not. With the recent folding of so many in the Coalition, the Sinsangese were now truly isolated from the rest of the Coalition.

What was to stop the Coalition from abandoning them to?

A beeping from the comm. station caught Chang Wu’s attention. Lieutenant Tseng picked it up, and after a couple of spare yes’s he looked toward the Captain. “It’s Mao Han sir, asking for a report on a situation.”

“Patch it through to my ready room, I’ll take it there. Interrupt if there’s any changes Lieutenant.” Wu said as he turned away from the hologram of the system and made his way to the side of the command center.

------------------

Zhang Sei walked in frustrated circles with his head in his hands. How could the Coalition do it? Didn’t they know only authorized ships of war were allowed to enter the system? Did they know how back this event would push back any offer with the Parliament. He could already hear the people with the Progressive Sinsang party spin-doctoring the incident.

‘Coalition Disrespects Sinsang Sovereignty’, or ‘Sinsang and the Coalition at Arms!’.

Chao wasn’t going to let him live this down.

At least they were going to be landing at the spaceport and he wouldn’t have to worry about getting to the Fang. The ship was under its yearly overhaul this week and he chose not to book an alternative since all his plans were planetside this week. Sei tapped at his datapad as he ran through some of the financial information and points he was going to make.

He added etiquette to the list. It was going to be a long day.

The shuttle left the Unmitigated's hanger a few minutes later, with the Unmitigated itself setting off as soon as the shuttle was clear. There was clearly a lot they had to learn about the Sinsangese, but the first thing they'd learn was that they took their space very seriously.

"I don't get it," Ion said, while scratching his muzzle. "Sinsang is a full member of the Coalition. Not some sort of alllied state or probationary member, they're a full national componant of the Coalition, yet they won't even let a Coalition ship stay in orbit?"

"Well, you have to respect the Sinsangese's position," said Jargur, who kicked back in the shuttle's backseat. "I mean, they're surrounded by the Empire, far from the Coalition proper, would you want to draw too much attention to yourself? What if there was a massive military buildup at Endor, how would you react?"

"Maybe so, but they did invite us," said Ion. "I mean, I just don't think they can refuse a Coalition ship, even a warship - especially a warship - from entering their space. That sort of mobility comes with being a member state."

"True," said Jargur. "Technically, so long as they're a Coalition member you could have just forced yourself on them and insisted that you had a right to keep your big fancy warship in orbit, but that'd just encourage them to leave the Coalition." Jargur pulled an apple from his coat pocket, quickly snagged on their way out of the ship. He took a crunching bite, adding "Sinsangese politics are very delicate."

"More like confusing," grumbled Ion.

The shuttle was cleared to proceed by the Sinsangese navy, and proceeded to rocket down towards the planet's surface. Charting a course for the local starport, they broke through the cloud cover only to discover that it hadn't been clouds but instead a thick layer of smog.

"So much for clean burning technologies," remarked Eisle, whose tentacles curled at the prospect of exposing herself to the air toxins. "You think it's... breathable?"

"The Sinsangese seem to get by pretty well on it," said Ion, glancing down at the industrial works below. "Then again, it might have stunted their growth a lit-"

"I thought you said you'd told your last racist joke up in orbit?" said Eisle, throwing Ion a punch.

Ion chuckled. "They earned one more when they sent my ship home early. The crew was itching for shore leave, you know."

Oaxaca rumbled something, which his translator proceeded to transalte. "That wouldn't be advised. Trading ship's crews vising Sinsang have an unusually high level of desertion, or 'jumping ship'. In fact, the verb 'Shanghaied' is believed to come from a port city found on-"

"Okay, that's enough history for now," said Ion, bringing the shuttle towards the Spaceport hub. Aiming the ship for an open hanger, he punched in his landing code. "Let's get out and meet them."



The West's four delegates left their ship behind and strode out into the crowded starport of Bei-diang. Though there were aliens here and there, the majority of the population that raced around were Sinsangese - all rushing, all serious, and all looking very, very busy.

"We should look for the Sinsangese's representative," Oaxaca growled. "I don't recall exactly what he looks like, so we should try to stand out so they can spot us."

Ion, a white and fuzzy Tynnian in a captain's dress uniform, glanced over to his Quarren compatriot before looking up at the eight-foot walking carpet in a suit that was Oaxaca. "Stand out, you say? We'll try."

People came and went, as Zhang Sei walked back and forth. Somewhat nervous, somewhat impatient, but a much deal more annoyed. His entire plans for the day were now in tatters and he’d be spending the rest of the day rescheduling. If this was a sign of things to come, the day could easily become a disaster. Well, if it wasn’t considered as such already.

Finally, within the crowd he noticed them. They stuck out painfully enough that Zhang Sei knew there was no need for a sign. Well, he knew before that there’d be no need. It was not often that a Wookiee, a Tynnian, and a Quarren came together to Sinsang. More importantly, a trio that wore the type of clothes that group did.

Zhang Sei made his way quickly through the crowd, and came before the group. He promptly fixed his suit and gave a quick nod of his head. “Welcome to Bei-diang.” Zhang Sei said in a very calm and professional manner. “I am Zhang Sei, the Minister of Finance of Sinsang. Please, follow me. There is a vehicle waiting outside.”

Discussion within the spaceport was hard with all the people rushing about. People yelling at each other, namely in Common and Sinsangese. The horde of people moving about with notices being given over the intercom system in a variety of languages. Ads preaching the recent release of one of the factories on Sinsang that created consumer goods. A holo going through the news and weather forecast. There was a lot to talk over, so Zhang Sei didn’t even bother to try. It was much easier on the vocal chords to show some patience and escape the horde of people.

Through an elevator and a couple of halls, they finally made their way through the Skyway exit. Sei pressed a button on his datapad, and turned back to face the group of Coalition representatives.

“Our vehicle will be here shortly. But I’ll take this moment to point out some of the standards of infrastructure here. As I’m sure you’ll notice all vehicles use the skyways instead of being land bound.” Sei said, motioning the traffic zipping about the air. “The land ways are reserved namely for bicycle and foot traffic. It allows us to keep maximum efficiency in traffic movement. A smooth running city is a productive city.”

It was at about this point that the arranged ride arrived. A well made limousine with the insignia of a local manufacturer on the side. Zhang Sei opened the door and motioned for the group to enter. Zhang Sei followed last and when he entered the vehicle sped off and they were on their way.

“This fine vehicle was produced by Omahura Vehicles Incorporated and given to us for the time of your stay on Sinsang. Now my schedule has been thrown off thanks to delays, but I shall endeavour to reschedule them to ensure the Coalition gets the chance to see all the businesses available for investment.” Zhang Sei began as he brought out his datapad to run through what they could make. “We can still make it to the Sinsangese Robotics Corporation for them to demonstrate their construction and support robotics.”

After pressing a couple of things on his datapad, Zhang Sei returned it to his suit jacket. “Are there any businesses in particular that the Western Coalition would be interested in investing in? Sinsang is known for its small arms since that has recently dominated the market but we deal in a number of fields of manufacturing. Robotics being a recent industry to pick up due to the projects started by Chairman Chao.”

“Oh, and I feel I must make this clear.” Sei said as he realized he forgot to note this yet. “Any deals you wish to make upon Sinsang will also be passed through the Commerce Guild of Sinsang. Just to make sure that the local businesses are being looked after and such. If you wish I can show you the charter when we’re done for the evening and ensure that it’s to your satisfaction.”

"I'd be glad to see the charter," said Jargur with a broad smile, leaning towards their host. "If I may say so, we of the Western delegation are overjoyed to at last meet with our friends on Sinsang, and we look forwards to discussing matters of business with-"

"Wait..." murmured Ion, a look of realization spreading on his face. "Now I remember! I knew I'd heard about Sinsangese industry before! Small arms!"

Jargur, glancing over with confusion, muttered "What're you talking about, Ion?"

"We received a shipment of Sinsangese rifles a few months back during an equipment drive," Ion explained. He grinned and leaned back into the comfy limosine seat. "I mean, I've seen better but certainly not at those prices. I have no idea how you manage to produce so much so cheaply."

As if on queue, the Skyway passed near a giant smokestack belching huge, noxious clouds. Captain Eisle fumbled with the window controls though the window was already up, her tentacles curling at the sight of the black smoke floating past.

"Ah, right..." Ion murmured, turning away from the window. "So... we'll be meeting with...?"

"Yes," said Jargur, taking control of the conversation again. "The delegates of the Western Unity government have prepared a long list of items they want that Sinsang produces. I believe I have it here somewhere..."

The Trandoshan fumbled in his pockets before a rumble from Oaxaca the wookie drew his eye. The big, fluffy diplomat pulled a list from a fold of hair and passed it to Jargur.

"Ah yes, this is it," said Jargur, holding out the piece of paper. "Let's see... yes, tea... rice... paper... textiles, small arms, large arms, finished goods, unfinished goods, unstarted goods, ship parts - from capital to nautical, speeders, bikes, trains, planes, automobiles..."

The list rolled down to the floor like a cartoon character's restaurent bill as Jargur droned on. "...Umbrellas, raw materials, raw fish, rawhide, pharmaceuticals, electronics, and... oh dear, the Prime Minister didn't let his wife see this list, did he?" Jargur gulped before continuing. " 'One of those lovely carpets they make, which would look just darling in the living room...' "

An awkward silence followed, during which Jargur passed the lengthly shopping list to Zhang Sei. "So!" said Ion, grinning once more. "Busy day, eh? Hope we brougt enough shopping bags. Right, when do we begin?

Zhang Sei smirked slightly when he saw the Quarren’s frantic reaction to the smoke of one of their factories. It was so easy to tell those so concerned on the ‘environment’ instead of on business. What did the environment of one planet out of numerous thousands matter? If people wanted to hug trees there were various ‘virgin’ worlds that they could do that on.

“Gentlemen, as you can see our factories work for top efficiency and productivity to give the best products for the best cost.” Zhang Sei said with a motion of his hand towards the large smokestack. “What many would consider ‘ugly’, we consider beautiful. A sign of progression and productivity to better improve the life of Sinsangese people, and now for the Coalition as a whole. With the current situation, we are in need of a way to stimulate the economy and I can think of no better way than cheap, quality product.”

"Yes," said Jargur, taking control of the conversation again. "The delegates of the Western Unity government have prepared a long list of items they want that Sinsang produces. I believe I have it here somewhere..."

The wookiee handed over a small datapad, and the Trandoshan began to read off what was written. The list made one wonder if there was anything at all in the West or that they had been surviving off of what crumbs they could salvage thus far.

Many would be daunted by the list that was read off. Many would see the long list of sought after goods and wrack their mind over how to do it. But Zhang Sei wasn’t some diplomat. Sei was first and foremost a business man and he held back a smile from creeping on his lips, keeping his face stoic as if taking into account all they said. He could literally take them ANYWHERE and reach their goals.

He could smell the sweet scent of credit chits already.

“Well, I believe we will continue with the schedule as planned. We’ve missed the first couple of meetings at companies, but they may be tacked on before you disembark.” Zhang Sei said with a steady nod as he looked at his datapad. “Our first meeting will now be with the Mitsurubi Steel Workers Inc. They’ll tell you about the various options they have available, and offer some of the better prices you’ll find this side of Coruscant.”

------------------------------

After a long day of visiting grungy factories and large offices, the next stop came as almost a complete surprise. They left the core of the city, heading to the outskirts of the city. And then, they were beyond Bei-diang. They saw a sight that was strange to see on industrial planets. Green hills, and mountains.

Mist slowly danced between the peaks, jumping aside from the large vehicle which cut through the calm sky like a blade. They began to slow, but came to a stop in front of an odd building. It was made of wood, which is rare in the modern galaxy. The walls painted red and with terracotta tiles on the roof. It was a large house, in a unique style not seen throughout the rest of the galaxy. They landed before a large arch, similar in style but standing removed.

“Alright, we are to meet with a representative to tell you about proper diplomatic conduct in Sinsangese space.” Zhang Sei said, as he opened the door and motioned for them to exit the vehicle. When they had, Zhang led them up the path towards the home, ignoring many of the questions responding with a ‘wait and see’ attitude. The entrance was marked on either side with large stone statues of lions, but with a distinct art style in their appearance. Numerous swirls and lines accented the features of the beast.

The walls for the main hall were made out of a combination of wood and paper. Arches over head created both support for the floor above them and to add to the aesthetic flair of the hall. Colour and art laden everywhere in the old house. As soon as the group entered, a large and deep voice was heard from one of the hallways up ahead.

“Ahhh… I had heard I would be having guests….” Came the voice, which sounded both powerful, and weak at the same time. Deep and broken, like a rock falling down a mountainside. “Unexpected, but welcome….”

From one of the halls came a large figure, hunched and feeble and yet powerful by most physical standards for size. Vorlorn Holm, the refugee leader of the Anx came walking towards the group. He came up to them and eyed them all carefully. The Anx were known for their poor eyesight, and age had not improved that for Holm. He took a brief sniff of the air and nodded slightly.

“Welcome to my abode... Please, come to the sitting room. We shall be having tea in short order. And some discussion? Yes.” The old Anx said with a nod of his head. He made his way slowly forward, leading the others further in towards a traditional sitting room where they could get comfortable. “Oh, and Zhang Sei, you may wait with your vehicle if you choose. I know how much you distaste tea.”

There was a slight flash of anger in Zhang Sei’s face. The others may not have noticed, and those who did likely wouldn’t understand but with that he gave a slight nod of his head and returned back outside. The old Anx had a slight smirk on his face from it but still held a firm pace.

The room itself wasn’t like anything else that had seen on the planet. There was a short table, not far off the ground. Instead of chairs, there were thin mats were most people would be seated. The Anx headed towards one of the mats where a small pot boiled in a hole in the ground next to him, as well as several small clay cups. He knelt, and motioned for the others to do the same.

“Sinsang was not always like this….” The ancient Anx began, as he looked around at the group. They were but blurs to his eyes but their scents allowed him to tell each for their race and sex. “What I have learned, from books and stories from others who choose to live their lives in these mountains, is they were once like my own people.... I find some comfort and yet disturbance from it.”

He noticed the confusion from some of the group, but the slight change in the smell of their body odours. They were here to learn of diplomatic practice, and they were lead to an alien leader who was starting to spout off a history lesson. This did not detour him.

“What value has wealth if it costs one their soul? Will my people in their desperation take this same path once our planet is cured of the blighted miasma that surrounds it?” Holm said with a slight bit of a sigh. “Well, please excuse me that I do not do this to proper ceremony. Very few know the proper technique, and requirements for a Sinsangese tea ceremony. So many things are lost to the sands of time.”

Carefully, he dipped a ladle into the pot and began to pour tea for all the guests gathered, carefully handing out a cup to those gathered. When finished, he nodded his head and waited for his guests to begin drinking before continuing.

“On Sinsang in the past, the tea ceremony was done as a sign of respect to guests. Something founded on wisdom, cue, and poise. It would follow a precise protocol that took years to perfect. As times passed, and culture gave way to profit, many things as these have been lost….” Holm said, with a hint of sadness in his tone. “But some elements have not been lost. If the host or guest failed in their parts of the ceremony, it was considered a great disrespect. Some of which were greater than what words could say. This concept of respect and ceremony is still engrained in the minds of the Sinsangese even if they have forgotten their own ways to express it.”

The Anx took a long sip of the tea, taking in full the flavour. Allowing a moment for what he said to sink in amongst his guests, before continuing. He could understand the value of allowing things to steppe, if but for a short time.

“One may simply read a book to understand the ‘what’, but to truly show respect and understand, one must understand the ‘why’.” Holm said with a solemn nod. Suddenly, his eyes widened, as he reached to his side. “Oh, forgive me again. I had nearly forgotten one of things I have learned about the tea tradition.”

He took out a piece of paper, with a ball of something purplish in hue with small white chunks covering it. It was hard enough to keep shape, but that was about it. He could notice a couple of questionable sounds emerge from the group.

“It is traditional to give out a form of sweet if one is not serving a meal along with the tea. This is an ancient treat called a ‘Botamochi’. It is made of bean paste and rice. It is actually rather sweet, and healthy.” Holm said with a slight nod of his head as he picked up his and took a small bite from it. He would never stop being amazed what one could find buried in the history of planets that try to act so Coruscanti, but had such a rich history of their own.

“Remember the key. It is for them, all about respecting their ways. For the modernists you shall be dealing with, it is nothing more than respecting their laws and wishes.”