Cybloc XII

“It can’t be tolerated. If the navy will not act, the Confederate Merchant Fleet will,” stated newly-appointed Commodore Ingham Tobias, executive officer of the Confederate Merchant Fleet’s Eastern Division.

The Budpock native stood in front of the massive, ceraglass planes of the Confederation’s Trading Outpost. Outside of them, vessels of varying makes and kinds touched down or launched off of the duracrete landing pads into the starry sky. Beyond the space port, an endless sea of trees waved in the wind. If the meeting had been outside, the group would have also been hearing the canorous and tranquil tunes of the native wildlife. But the meeting room was an altogether different place. Stark, sterile white walls entombed the debating people, with a single central holo-projector whose image changed more times than reasonable for what was a “simple” discussion. A man dressed in Confederation blacks and with a strong Budpock accent leaned back in his chair, his cold grey eyes staring at the other Budpock native in the room: Ingham Tobias.

Captain Tolwar, commanding officer of the Budpock Defence Forces, sighed, “A single raid and ambush of a customs vessel isn’t enough to marshall out the entire Budpock Fleet. It would make our own citizens concerned, despite our own fortifications. It may be expedient militarily, but not politically.”

A woman dressed in a non-descript business suit shook her head. “As the CSIS representative, I have to admit that I am a little disappointed, maybe even frustrated. We’ve been able to interrogate the crew of the Dark Rose, and even commandeer the ship to find their base. Have we worked to do nothing? Could even a strike be arranged on their bases?”

“A strike wouldn’t do it,” muttered Tobias, seating back down, “Sure, it might put them down for a while, or even wipe them out. But there will always be others who will take their place. The only way to stop piracy is to completely cleanse the area, and leave no places for to hide and fester on. If we strike them, they will eventually grow back, and even if they don’t target us again, they’ll hit more innocents.”

“Tell me,” questioned a man wearing a dark green tunic, “is the naval presence, I mean the pirate naval presence, very strong?”

The woman shook her head, “Not really, the Merchant Fleet could probably handle them, especially assuming that the Commodore skims off some of his vessels from the Customs Fleet for the battle.”

“I could,” admitted Ingham, “but not very long. A few days at most.”

The army officer folded his fingers, “Assuming that your Fleet can hold off the pirates, we can completely eliminate the pirates.”

Tolwar’s head jerked back and frowned. “Explain.”

“Certainly,” explained Colonel Scherrer, “the space battle might be fairly even. That may be true, especially since that is where my pirates at adept at in combat: among the stars. But how about the ground? Have you ever heard of piratical forces beating an equally sized governmental force on ground? Never, I bet. Governmental troops are better equipped, better disciplined, and have more experience. If we force a stalemate in space, but the army is the ground eliminates their ground forces, and consequently their base, the pirates must lose or at the very least retreat because they have lost all of their logistics.”

“If they retreated though, it wouldn’t solve the problem completely though,” commented Tolwar, “so this is what I can do. I can temporarily assign the Constellation, that’s an Interdictor Mk II, to your fleet. That way, none of them can escape. And you’ll have some extra guns too.”

“Thank you Captain,” replied the Merchant Fleet officer, “it could be extremely useful for the operation.”

Tolwar nodded back, “There is one thing that concerns me. Where are your soldiers, Colonel? I’ve never seen any mention of them during my time on Budpock, nothing with personnel, at least.”

Scherrer smiled. “That’s probably because nearly ninety percent of them are Paladin II assault droids. We move them here, and put them in storage. The other ten percent are natives from here, who I have trained into an armor regiment, using the Ares-class Heavy Tanks.”

Tolwar blinked. “That sounds extremely heavy in firepower.”

Scherrer nodded. “Heavy firepower, low maintenance. Just what the bureaucrats like.”

“I think that settles the overall gist of this meeting,” interrupted Tobias, “excuse me gentlemen, and lady. I have some work I have to do, but feel free to stay and talk if you wish…”



Styria-class Galleon Providence, in orbit via Cybloc XII

The starships of makeshift invasion fleet assembled over the emerald and pearl jaded planetoid. At the core of the fleet was the Interdictor Mk II Constellation, a veteran of several battles, most notably the engagement over Eregion. At six hundred meters, it was the largest ship present, and the single most dangerous, of the entire fleet. But it was not the flagship, which was the significantly smaller ovoid ship that was the Providence; an equally experienced, albeit weaker, vessel in battle. But it was the Commodore’s first command, and the ship he felt most comfortable with. The galleon drifted to portside of the Constellation. Around the two ships, over a dozen Styria galleons and a half dozen Juaire Mk II Gunships surrounded the Providence and Constellation. It was a task force that had little in terms of brute strength, but one with superior carrying capabilities as fitting for an invasion fleet. Three of the gunships had been arranged to carry some of Scherrer’s armor regiment for slightly over fifty Ares-class Tanks. The other three, including the Orestes, had their modular decks converted to the house Piranha Drone Fighters . Half of the galleons carried Paladin II Assault Droids, the other half carried more drone fighters.

“Sir?”

The gaunt man pivoted about to face the ensign.

“Yes?”

“Everyone is ready to go.”

“Including the reserve force?”

“Yes sir.”

“Very well, let’s make the jump.”

Nearly twenty vessels jumped into the realm of hyperspace, headed towards Pedducis Chorios, home of the late Dark Rose, and a band of pirates.

Pedducis Chorios

The stars glittered as diamonds tossed into a tenebrous void. Harsh cosmic rays from the system’s amber sun provided the only meaningful illumination of the area. Several rocky orbs, dull and nearly lifeless things, slowly swirled around the star in the system’s inner orbit like a celestial ballet. Just beyond them, floated an isolated world streaked in brilliant swaths of tangerine orange and verdant greens: Pedducis Chorios. From space, the brilliant contrasting colors were only marred by the planet’s turbulent atmosphere. Doubtlessly, anyone with an intelligence higher than a Garmorenean could tell that planet was a paradise world, with nearly endless plains of savannas and a sea of rainforests. But appearances were deceptive; for Pedducis Chorios was not a tropical paradise, but a scene of violence to all, and a living hell to many of its inhabitants. And their suffering was soon to be excaberated for those who inflicted it on others, and salved for those colonists who had eeked out an existence on a fiercely untamed world. Those who had survived the bloodlusts of their fellow inhabitants. And the harbingers of justice arrived.

Several Deathsabers from the approaching dropped out of hyperspace in a classic lozenge formation. Within seconds, the formation disintegrated as the stealth fighters veered off in multiple vectors which would form an encompassing web around the planet. A variety of sensors, from the ubiquitous full spectrum transceivers to the rarer enhanced radiation meters, probed the area, hitherto unknown to the Confederation except as old navigational charts. Soaring across the edges of the planet’s atmosphere, the atmospherically fluid craft harvested data vital to the impending Confederate intrusion. Everything from starships observed in orbit to the local weather surged through the starfighters’ computers before flying off to the awaiting Confederation Fleet. There, several dozen analysts sifted through the flood of information; appraising and dispatching the valued information to various officers and units which it affected, and discarding or deleting that of insignificant value. Thus the news of invasion specifics portended itself across the fleet. Men reviewed information, men schemed over information, and men issued orders based on the information.

Styria-class Galleon Providence, deepspace

Three lightyears away from the tawny star, the Confederation Merchant Fleet drifted among the stars. A squadron of Deathsabers flew laps around the fleet as lazily sentries. Normally, Tobias would have been at the comm. station after seeing their sloppiness, berating their lack of awareness and casual maneuvering. But two things prevented that. The first being the fleet’s location in the middle of deep space meant that it was unlikely to be found or ambushed. Secondly, Tobias and most of the other officers were too busy laying down plans for the invasion and disseminating information to their subordinates to notice the slackish sentries. Led by the Commodore, a group of officers hovered and discussed plans over the Providence’s bridge’s largest holo-projector.

“Well, according to the newest reports, there isn’t much flying around over there,” noted Lieutenant Caldwell, “the Juaires alone could easily handle those freighters and shuttles. And heck, probably any fighters scrambled from the surface. We can easily land there, and there, to take the principal population centers.”

“We also need to remember that we’re not fighting against a single planetary government,” cautioned the Commodore, “CSIS has determined that the so-called Landreich Republic sent the ship against us, but as you see here, they control maybe somewhere around a fourth to a third of the planet. The Warlord’s forces, allied with the Remnant settlers, control a third. And the rest of the population is part of many small settlements which are not allied with any of the groups, but are ravaged by both. If we need allies, they are our best bets. And if we want a permanent Confederation presence, we need them as loyal citizens.”

“What are you suggesting? Sending in a diplomatic team to the contact the settlers first, and then attack?”

“No,” explained Tobias, “I am suggesting that our landing areas should be the neutral grounds with the smaller settlements. We can protect and defend them, and conduct negotiations, both political and economic, right there and then. In the meantime, we crush the piratical rulers of the Landreich Republic.”

“And the Warlord?”

Ingham’s lip twitched. “We’ll have to them alone, probably. Partially because we don’t have the forces immediately available to defeat them and the Landreich Republic and to defend the settlers. Once the Landreich Republic is defeated, we’ll engage in negotiations with him.”

“And if he attacks the settlers?”

“Then we defend what we can, and after we’re done with the pirates, we beat his sorry rear into defeat.”

An officer rushed over to the group. “Sir, we have an important update from the reconnaissance fighters. They have reported the presence of several capital ships entering the area: three Corellian Corvettes, with transponders of the Landreich Republic.”

Tobias growled. “That complicates things. They may be weak and old, but they still can outgun the Juaires. Which means that one or two of the galleons will have to stay behind and aid them in the space combat. Any volunteers?”

“I will,” stated the Blackwell’s captain, “I only have drones anyways, so there won’t be much that I can do immediately to protect the settlers.”

“Likewise, the Adventurer is probably better off staying with the space combat group, given it too is fully housing drones.”

Ingham nodded in approval. “That should be more than enough firepower to deal with the corvettes. The Juaires with Scherrer’s complement can immediately land then with the Providence at New Castletown. I think that about covers it, gentlemen. Once you’re all back at your ships, we’ll make the jump to hyperspace.”



Pedducis Chorios

Nearly twenty gray hulks dropped out hyperspace around Pedducis Chorios. Shadowy squadrons of Deathsabers buzzed around them. Several of the Confederate starfighters waggled their wings before surging towards the enemy corvettes. Red fire sputtered from the piratical CR-90s challenged the encroaching galleons. The charging Deathsabers answered with a torrent of emerald laser bolts. While the lasers did little damage to corvettes, it did provide a surprising and distracting light show to the Landreich Republic ships. Adventurer and Blackwell returned fire, whipping out sapphire imbued tags at the opposing vessels. Hangar doors on several of the galleons and Juaire gunships slid open, releasing swarms of Piranha Drones towards the opposing corvettes. While Adventurer, Blackwell, Orestes, and two other Juaire gunships moved to engage the Landreich pirates in battle, the rest of the convoy ignored the enemy, marching towards the planet’s atmosphere.

New Castletown, Pedducis Chorios

Colonel Scherrer clasped his hands behind his back and paced around the landed galleon. Tanks, infantry, and war droids all disgorged off of the ramps of the landed Confederate expedition. But he paid them no heed. His mottled hazel eyes gazed past the Confederate forces to the area around them. For in war, it was just as important to know the battlefield as it was to know the nature and constitution of the opposing armies. Around him, and as far to the west as his eye could see, grassy plains laid a fertile carpet across the earth. Directly to the east, the craggy outcroppings of rocks jutted out from the lush forests towards the skies. The Confederate officer could make out the glimmer of artificial lighting throughout the gray landmass. His eyes squinted. The primary settlement. This is what we defend. The Commodore has already left to talk to their leaders, and things looked well between them. Though I doubt that either side is completely comfortable with this. The citizens of Castletown probably have never seen a war force like this, let alone one which is lending itself to protect them. And here we are, on some planet that most of us have probably never heard of. A smile creased his face. We are all fools.

“Sir?”

The army officer spun about on his boot heel to face the youthful soldier, his secretary.

“What is it Champe?”

“Well, now that we have everyone unloaded, I’m got a couple of requests for them wondering where to go…unless you planned to fight this extempore.”

The officer barked a laugh. “It would be a chaotic defence; one whose advantage would be that the enemy wouldn’t know what’s coming…and neither would we! No, I just had to survey the area. We have to try and use the terrain to its fullness extent to maximize our potential. I would like to try and entrench ourselves, but that will probably require some discussion with the natives, so we can’t do that for now. Instead, have the marines reconnoiter the surrounding area, particularly the forests. We’ll have the Ares divided up into two groups. One which will form a center line over there, without their active camo engaged, and the others spread out near the forest treeline, with their active camouflage engaged. And just arrange the Paladin IIs around the first line of Ares as you see fit. I have some business to attend to.”

“Sir?”

“Call it a diplomatic mission. And by that, I mean I’ll be at the Providence’s comm. station for a while. An army does not win a battle best all alone, but rather as a member of a team. And I need to recruit some teammates…”



Styria-class Galleon Blackwell, in orbit via Pedducis Chorios

A brilliant flash of light washed over the face of the vessel as turbolaser bolts met the stout shields of the galleon. Shielding their eyes with their hands, crewmembers continued to work feverishly at their stations. The Blackwell’s captain, Lavidean Baptiste, barked a orders back at the crew fiercely.

“Reinforce the bow shields now! I don’t care how you do it, just do it, blast you!”

The Merchant Fleet captain rushed over to the shield operator’s station. Well, the fates frak us. Sure, we take the port flank, letting the Adventurer take the lead spot to take on the corvettes, but Landreich starfighters launched from ground side come in and pound us first with a barrage of torpedoes and missiles. They’ve managed to knock out our polarizing viewports and several other nice little features, like our shields, and then we get the corvette’s attention. He stared down at the console before him. Baptiste blinked.

“Bow shields are now at eighty percent and rising…” reported the shield operator.

“Sir, the Adventurer has released its entire fighter escort to deal with the enemy starfighters-”

“The lead corvette sir!”

A bright flash of light again blinded the crew. The Valinor captain rushed over to the viewport of his ship. A steady stream of energy bolts, from the corvette’s turbolasers to the diminutive blasters on the Piranhas, streaked across sable space. The bright cyan tags from the Confederate galleons steady marched and collided with the corvettes. The exhaust trails of missiles launched from the sides of the Confederate hybrid vessels slowly dissipated; sights that were nothing new to the veteran officer. But the space where the lead Landreich corvette once occupied, stood an expanding cloud of debris. Baptiste narrowed his eyes. One corvette down…and our odds improve…

Ares-class Heavy Tank Broadsword Four, New Castletown, Pedducis Chorios

“Capt’n, you’d better check your scope, or my vision is going bad.”

“Where at?” inquired Captain Bleiweiss, “I don’t see anything directly in front of us…”

“Upper left, near that cluster of Fijisi Trees…wait…in that grove of Fijisi Trees.”

Bleiweiss rotated his view of the tank’s visual sensors to focus on the Fijisi Trees. Ebony trunks jutted out of the tawny surroundings to sprout out into ivory green covered branches. Tops of branches and their leaves swayed in the gentle savanna winds. Bleiweiss squinted his eyes. It looks normal..heck..even peaceful…at least on the outside. The Cybloc native tapped a switch, viewing the grove in his thermal scope. Bleiweiss immediately frowned. Aberrant bright blotches of heat stood high off the ground, overwhelming the heat signatures of the vibrant fauna. It has to be something artificial, and judging by its profile, it’s a walker…The Confederate captain immediate thumbed his comlink.

“This is Broadsword Four, we have unknowns inhabitating the grove of Fijisi Trees at coordinates 30-12-40. By the thermal image profile, they appear to be bipedal walkers of some sort.”

“Nobody do anything rash,” demanded Major Freeman, “nobody move their weapons to target the area. Nobody fire their weapons, act like we don’t know they’re there. They could be civies, like a harvesting vehicles or some Castletown policing vehicles that haven’t been informed yet about our…expedition.”

“Or it could be an enemy scout unit,” ventured Bleiweiss .

“Or they’re neutral scouts,” countered Freeman, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice, “I will inform the Colonel about them right away…”



Styria-class Galleon Providence, Pedducis Chorios

The communication’s center of the Providence was a larger octagonal room with alabaster paneling filled with holo-projectors, a variety of communication systems, and slightly over a dozen consoles to monitor and use the devices. It was a larger communication’s room than most Styrias kept, and one larger than many on vessels larger than the medium frigate. But the Providence wasn’t a typical ship; as the flagship of the Confederate Merchant Fleet’s Eastern Division, Commodore Tobias had ensured that not only was the gear sophisticatedly efficient, but kept fastidiously clean. Thus, when Colonel Scherrer entered the room, Tobias had several cleaning droids and a maintenance worker overseeing them. Among the whines of mechanical brushes and the smell of an ammonia based cleaning solvent, the hazel-eyed man contacted several of the ships in orbit.

“Yes…Captain Baptiste? What? Sorry,” noted the army officer, who turned over to the janitor and his droids, “could you keep it down? Frak it, just stop cleaning for a bit. If Tobias complains or anyone else, he can talk to me.”

“Yes sir. Ah, guys, A1, I guess we’d better stop for now…” informed the janitor.

“Sorry about that captain…no, not a really technical issue with the equipment…yes, Tobias would probably kill me twice if I messed it up…Listen, I hear the space battle is winding down…do you have any starfighters to spare? No, I have no air support, which is going to be a real problem if we get attacked…I’ll take anything you got, even if it’s just a shuttle…six squadrons of Piranhas? That should do, I think…More? How do you guys have that many? Never mind, I’m not complaining. You can just send them down once the maintenance and refueling procedures are done with them. Yes, thank you. I’ll see you around Lavidean. Bye.”

Scherrer closed the channel on the heavy duty comlink with an expedient tap of a finger. Leaning back in the chair, the officer exhaled. An irritating chirp emanated from the colonel’s breast. He tapped a button on his comlink.

“What is it? I see. Keep an eye on them for now. Air support will be coming soon, and so will the Commodore with word about the natives.”

One hour later

Ares-class Heavy Tank Broadsword Four

Captain Bleiweiss took a sip of concentrated juice from his canteen. As time slipped by, and with a lack of action, the crew of Broadsword Four began to amuse themselves like bored teenagers cooped up in a landspeeder for a long-distance journey. Leaning back in his command chair, Bleiweiss was listening to music via his helmet’s speakers, only half-paying attention to the tank’s sensors. The gunner immersed himself in rechecking his equipment and the stock of ammunition. Bleiweiss knew by the faint sounds reverberating from the lower chassis that at least one of his men was running a combat simulation of some sort. Suddenly, the tank’s heavy duty comlink crackled throughout the hull.

“We have word from the Commodore that those are not, repeat not, vehicles associated with New Castletown. In addition, Warlord K’iin has agreed to join forces with us to defeat the Landreich Republic. Those are not any of the Silver Unifer’s vehicles. Therefore, the only option is that they belong to the Landreich Republic or other undesirables. Everyone to battle stations.”

Bleiweiss immediately cut out the music and switched to the tactical channel of the Meridian Sector 1st Armored Volunteer Regiment. A rapid volley of acknowledgements poured out of the comm. system from various tank commanders. On his viewscreen, Bleiweiss could see the most responsive crews already maneuvering their tanks to engage the targets located in the Fisiji grove. But the Paladin IIs were quicker, immediately propelling themselves into the air en masse through a combination of repulsorlifts and thrusters. Bleiweiss could immediately see their large assault weapons being leveled at the distant trees. The Cybloc XII native felt a twinge of sympathy for his opponents sweep through his body. Against such massed firepower, the chances of them surviving this attack are slim to none. The screams of dozens of dark Piranha drone fighters, descending through the cover of the clouds, ensured their enemies of defeat. A single voice blared through the communication’s system; which Bleiweiss immediately identified as Colonel Scherrer.

“This Colonel Scherrer speaking. All Confederation forces hold fire. To the occupants of the AT-HAs in the Fisiji Groves, we are aware of your presence, and your lack of affiliation to the new Pedducis Chorios Alliance. As such, you are intruders on this land, and we can and will terminate your existence on this land if you do not surrender within five minutes. You have no hope. Victory is impossible for you; I have fifty heavy tanks on the ground, all prepared to fire upon you. I have several thousand heavy battle droids whose weapons are already tracking your every move. And attack will come from the air; from the dozens of starfighters already circling over your position. You are but a half dozen walkers. If you chose to fight, some of us will remember you as brave people, some of us will think that you were idiots. But irregardless, you will be dead, and there will be no-one to remember you, and your fight will have been for naught. The Contegorian Confederation, the citizens of New Castletown and other neutral helmets, and the Silver Unifer have all united against you. If you surrender, we guarantee you safe housing and basic necessities, and even freedom once this war is done. Your five minutes begin now. Choose wisely…”

Bleiweiss stared intently through his scope. A nervous sweat began to trickle down his sculptured features. He tapped several buttons situated around his cupola. Holos and viewscreens changed from a dull emerald to an intense, electric yellow. Twin targeting cursors of the turret’s rocket pods highlighted the Fisiji Tree grove. The Captain tapped another button, switching the pods to fire Merr Sonn K26 explosive rockets; perfect for ripping through the lighter armor of most bipedal walkers. The one problem was rocket’s short range, but Bleisweiss wasn’t too concerned about; They don’t have many options. If they try to flee on open terrain, the drones will eat them up. If they try to fight from the grove, tank rounds can easily take them out in a single hit from a distance. The only other option is to engage us at close range, where we could easily hit ourselves. In which case, none of us is going to be stupid enough to fire their guns or heavier weapons, unless we really want to kill another one of our own. Heh. The drones might try that…but the rockets are perfect if they try that. Not powerful to really harm us, but more than enough for a measly walker. The Cybloc colonist’s fingers lightly pressed on the trigger; a slight twitch from either hand would send a dozen mini-rockets streaking over the savanna. Several minutes passed. His skin perspired more. As heavily accented voice droned over the comlink, he felt the pent up tension slacken up.

“This is Lieutenant Shisigumi of Landreich Republic 1st Heavy Battalion. It pains me to desert my country, but to do otherwise would put many fine men to a purposeless death. We surrender. My walkers’ weapons are powering down. What are your instructions, Colonel?”

Scherrer’s voice came back strong.

“You have made the right choice, Lieutenant. Kindly come just out of the grove in any manner that is convient for you. When you have done so, I will personally come up and meet you to discuss terms. Upon talking to the New Castletown leadership, we may even send you and your men back to the Landreich Republic. Let me tell of one thing; we do not wish to bring any bloodshed on the sacred savanna plains…”

Two weeks later…

New Castletown, Pedducis Chorios

Commodore Tobias stared at the darkening savanna sky. Gray storm clouds whisked over the golden plains, engulfing them and the city in shadow. Only the bright, artificial lights of the city provided any illumination to the Budpock native. The wind picked up, lightly picking up his graying strands of hair. His cold blue eyes gazed over the landscape. The distant Fijisi trees swayed and rocked at the approach of the storm. The fields of grasses bent over under the breeze. Only the start outcropping of New Castletown refused to bow before the approaching storm. What have we done? Have we ushered in a golden area for Pedducis Chorios, or have we excaberated the old wounds? The Landreich Republic has been dissolved, its leaders on war crime trials in the Silver Unifer or Castletown courts. And a collective world government has been formed, based here in New Castletown. With President Vermillion, a Landreich Republic expatriate, at the helm and an assortment of people’s behind her forming the Pedducis Congress. The way will be difficult for her and the congressmen; trying to integrate three, no, many more than three governments into a single unified planetary government. One that has been supported by the Confederation, and accepted into the Confederation. We have people and droids enough here to keep the peace between the former rivals at least…
“Commodore?”

The Budpock native slowly shuffled his feet around to face the newcomer. Ingham offered a slight bow to the other officer. The army officer was dressed in a dress uniform, one primarily made of a light gray tunic and trousers and black leather boots. All of which was adorned with brass and white piping and facings, and of course, a rank plaque and battle tabs. Tobias could even see the newly created battle tab for Pedducis Chorios mission. Despite the man’s finery and a cause for celebration, Tobias couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness in the man’s voice.

“Colonel Scherrer, always a pleasure to see you.”

“People have been wondering where you’ve been,” announced the Cybloc native, “you’re missing out on the party celebrating the formation of the Union; a government which is only possible because of your actions.”

“And yours as well,” commented Tobias, “I must admit, that I am in state of ennui regarding social functions of the like, particularly stiff engagements such as this one.”

“I as well. I believe the New Castletown magistrate took me to a few too many victory celebrations if they can be called that.”

A cold grin plastered itself on Ingham’s face. “Victory over a foe that almost immediately sued for peace simply from hearing about the alliance? We crushed them with intimidation and an unstoppable fate, but it is not a victory. What we must do now is ever harder than militarily crushing an opponent: bringing old rivals together along with a mutual victim to form an affective government.”

Scherrer nodded. “It will be done, if we just give it time. Time heals all things, as they say, but I think their presence in the Confederation will somewhat accelerate that. I know better than most, that the real reason this sector and citizens have suffered all this turmoil; the fall of the New Republic and the power vacuum it created. Slowly, we are filling that void here, and people will have peace and prosperity.”

“True,” accepted Tobias, “there are already orders for the planet’s hardwoods and other goods. Trade and friendship do heal much. Let us hope that they will be that salve that mends the previous injuries…”