Erek Joron sighed, looking over the holodisplay disappointedly. “We have a hole.”

Athan nodded. “It's big.”

“We need to fill it with . . . something. Space station?”

Athan shook his head. “Narg.”

“What?”

“Narg. In the Rayter Sector.” He pointed into the image, and the spot his fingertip touched grew until a map of the Rayter sector filled the entire display.

“The locals are just xenophobic enough for the two of you to get along great,” Zive Brintt added, glancing from the map to Erek. Despite the word choice, there was no malice in his tone, or in his features.

“What's the plan then?” Erek asked, turning back to Athan. “It's well beyond the East's borders. Are you two expecting me to convince them to join the Coalition as an independent world, because I've got to be honest: this isn't my sort of thing. I got lucky with Ketaris; they wanted into the Coalition. I don't know if I can handle this one, though.”

Athan smiled mischievously, holding up one of the Cooperative's identification cards. “Don't worry. I've got another plan.”





TransGalMeg Industries Orbital Shipyard 12, Narg orbit

The Coalition shuttle came to rest on the deck of the station's expansive docking bay. Its ramp descended and its delegation debarked. Erek Joron of Teth led the way, his ambassadorial robes now pinned with a Cooperative diplomatic badge. Behind him followed Admiral Jonathan Blakeley of the Cooperative Navy and Miko Minn, the one-time Chief of Police for Ord Cestus, who now held the title of “Regent of Cestus.”

They were met by a half dozen humans, four of which were armed and dressed in security force uniforms. They all looked rather uneasy.

What does the alien-loving Coalition want with your world, right? Erek stepped slowly forward, offering his hand. “Ambassador Erek Joron of the Galactic Coalition of Plantes, the Eastern Province, and the planet Teth . . . here on behalf of our allies and friends, the Cooperative of Systems.”

Fortunately, one of the two unarmed individuals accepted Erek's hand uncertainly. “I am Torran Hyjal, Narg liaison to TransGalMeg Industries.” He took a deep breath as he clasped his hands together. “What brings you to our world?”

“The Coalition has an offer to make to TransGalMeg and Narg,” Miko said, stepping forward and nodding politely. “Regent Miko Minn of Cestus.”

“Then it is I you should be speaking with,” The short, heavy-set member of the Narg party bellowed, lacing his fingers together over his round stomach as he took a step forward. “Administrator Joraal, head of TransGalMeg Industries' Infrastructure Management Division. Let's hear your offer,” He said decisively, snapping his fingers and turning, the guards following suit and Mr. Hyjal joining in belatedly. “Follow me.”

They were led into a more secluded area of the station, what appeared to be some sort of break area for the station's workers. They took seats, though the guards naturally remained standing. “Now, what can TransGalMeg Industries do for you?” Administrator Joraal smiled broadly, drumming the tips of his fingers together.

Erek was growing a little concerned about the direction the other man was trying to take this in. “Please understand, Administrator: this is not a business exchange, it is a diplomatic endeavor. We are here to open diplomatic relations with the people of Narg and the leadership of TransGalMeg Industries, not buy a shipment of starships or secure some simple production contract. We have come as official representatives of the Cooperative of Systems and the Galactic Coalition of Planets, and we expect to be greeted by individuals of equal stature.”

Erek's tone was a little harsher than was probably prudent, but he had definitely gotten the point across. “TransGalMeg has done perfectly fine through corporate channels alone, Mister Ambassador; what makes you think it has any desire to change that now?”

The Eastern man sighed heavily, pulling out a datapad and handing it to the large man. “We are not blind, Administrator. TransGalMeg is suffering―it has been for years. As its headquarters, Narg, already an isolationist world, is feeling the brunt of the corporation's shortfalls. Stop trying to get yourself some kind of quick commission, Administrator, and think about the future of the company you work for. We can help each other, but I need the chance to make that happen.”

Torran leaned close to his larger counterpart, still looking rather uncomfortable. “We should take them to see her,” He said quietly, though obviously not trying to keep the Cooperative delegation from hearing.

“Eh . . .” He grunted, waving the Narg native away. “Why are you here, Ambassador Joron?”

Erek smiled. “Take us to see her, and we'll all find out.”

The administrator grunted again, but nodded begrudgingly. “Send word to the Toggeus spaceport,” He ordered Mr. Hyjal. “Inform them that the Coalition wishes an audience with the Chief Administrator.”

It had taken about seven hours for the Chief Administrator to find something unimportant enough to postpone in favor of meeting the Coalition delegation, but she had assured that they would be given an audience. They had been well accommodated while they waited, but now they were ready to get to work.

Finally, the broad doors were pulled open and the guards ushered the Coalition delegation in. “Presenting Ambassador Erek Joron, Admiral Jonathan Blakeley, and Regent Miko Minn,” An announcer shouted as the three humans entered the room. A large oval table was set in the room's center, and while most of the seats on its far side were occupied, the one in the middle remained empty.

“Presenting Lady Shen Farool, Chief Administrator of TransGalMeg Industries and Governor of the planet Narg.” A tall, gracefully aged woman in elegant robes entered from a door on the far side of the room, showing a kind face framed by flowing red hair. Erek stopped and gave a brief bow before continuing forward. “We offer our thanks for your generosity in agreeing to meet with us, Lady Farool.”

The woman smiled as Erek paused just behind his seat. “That's not altogether necessary,” She said, but nonetheless nodded acceptingly before taking her seat and gesturing for them to do the same. As Erek sat down, he noticed Torran Hyjal and Administrator Joraal sitting to either side of the woman. Joraal was smiling greedily, but Hyjal seemed rather distraught.

She smiled again, glancing to either side of herself. She obviously realized that the Coalition delegation was surprised by the apparent level of reverence the natives held toward her. “Some of the locals have taken to calling me 'empress'―in jest, of course― though such a title doesn't carry the same implications on a world so out of touch with the remainder of the galaxy. The rule of the former Empire has become little more than an unpleasant memory on this world―I have seen to that.”

There was a long pause, and Erek assumed he was supposed to say something. “The Cooperative of Systems wishes to open diplomatic and economic dialogue with the leaders of Narg and the administration of TransGal Meg Industries.”

“Is that so?” The woman mused.

“We feel that we have much to offer one another,” Miko said in the way of a response.

“The people of Narg have everything they desire,” One of Lady Farool's subordinates stated harshly.

“Namely: solitude,” Another added.

“But what do they need?” Erek said simply, his focus remaining on the Chief Administrator.

She permitted herself a slight smile, meeting the ambassador's gaze. “And what does the Coalition suggest for our world?”

“For your world? We believe that―given the time―we can help the citizens of Narg to integrate into galactic society.”

“And why would we want that?” One of the Narg representatives barked.

“Running an interstellar corporation from a world that wants nothing to do with anyone unlike itself must be difficult, Madam Administrator.”

“We do fine, thank you,” Was the only answer he got. “But what makes you think you could succeed where the Empire has failed?”

Erek stifled a laugh. “The Coalition doesn't make a habit of subjugating one people and then forcing another to embrace them.”

She nodded, apparently content with the answer, though it really didn't answer anything. “What do you want, Ambassador Joron?” She asked simply, her tone carefully controlled.

“An opportunity to learn more of this world, and of the policies of TGM Industries,” He answered simply, unclasping his hands in a gesture of openness. “We would of course be willing to share insights into the Coalition with any who would ask.”

Erek was pretty sure he heard one of the Narg individuals grumble something about “filthy aliens.”

“Any public delegation would of course be composed entirely of humans; we have no desire to disrupt your people's social order.” He smiled reassuringly.

“Is that all?” The woman asked.

“For now,” Erek replied. “We would request a future audience to again discuss the potential of a shared future between our two peoples. I don't believe any of us here would like to proceed without a more complete understanding of one another.”

“I am not the one who lacks understanding,” Lady Farool answered, though her tone remained pleasant. "The natives of this world may be terrified of the outside galaxy, but I can assure you that I am not. My brother, Braig, once aspired to be Imperial Moff of this sector; though he possessed both the drive and daring to do so, unfortunately―or perhaps most fortunately―he did not possess the subtlety to make it a reality.

“But that is beside the point,” She said briskly, as if to will herself back to the topic at hand. “I wish only for you to understand that my family and I are far from strangers to the galaxy. We have operated TGM Industries from Narg since before the fall of the First Order, and though the world fears the galaxy, the corporation does not. As leader of both, I am well aware of the shaping of the greater galaxy.”

Erek conceded the mistake with a nod. “Of course, Lady Farool.” He said nothing more, content to wait for her response.

“See to their accommodation,” She said crisply, standing to her feet. “Ambassador, Admiral, Regent: how very nice it has been to meet you. I must be going now; you will have your future audience.”

The three Coalition representatives, who had stood along with everyone else when the Chief Administrator rose, watched as Lady Farool and a number of her assistants departed.

Erek nodded to himself. Now we're getting somewhere.

The tour of TransGalMeg had lasted several days, and included dozens of individuals from throughout the Coalition. They toured factories, spoke to workers and administrators, and were even allowed to meet with elements of the TransGalMeg security force and the company-controlled transport fleet.

The tour of Narg had gone a little differently, however. The few excursions beyond TGM-controlled towns were precisely planned. The Coalition delegations were kept very small and were transported in marked speeders with full police escorts. The few natives they did encounter showed indifference at best, and outright paranoia at worst. There was no telling what would have happened if they had brought actual aliens along.

As promised, the Coalition was granted its second meeting with Chief Administrator Farool. Her entourage was considerably smaller this time, though the Coalition's was a little larger. “You are . . . not human?” Torran Hyjal asked, pointing to one of the newcomers.

“No, I am not,” Captain Zive Brintt responded stiffly.

“Captain Brintt is here on behalf of the Coalition's Western Province―” Ambassador Joron stopped talking abruptly, as if he had caught himself just before saying too much. The Narg delegation seemed too dumbstruck by the fact that an actual alien was in their presence to notice, and the TGM representatives appeared to be so disinterested as to have missed the statement altogether, but Erek was fairly certain that Lady Farool had taken note of the slip-up.

“Are there any other . . . aliens we should know about?” A nervous-looking woman in the middle of the Narg group asked.

“Of course,” Zive said, pointing to the man next to him. “Regent Minn is secretly a Shi'ido.”

“A what?”

“I assure you: that is entirely impossible,” Miko Minn countered calmly. “The Onyxian Crisis did not begin until well after Cestus' integration into the Cooperative.”

“The what?”

“Perhaps we should try to remain on-topic?” Lady Farool interjected.

“Of course,” Erek conceded, smiling politely.

“I trust my people accommodated you well in your tour of our facilities and this world?” Lady Farool asked, giving the Coalition delegation somewhere to begin.

“We were most impressed,” Regent Minn admitted, instinctively pulling his hands behind his back as attention shifted to him.

“You are . . . head of Cestus Cybernetics, yes?” One of the TGM officials asked, scanning over a datapad, searching for clarification.

Miko nodded. “I am the provisional head of the government of Cestus; as such, I do hold authority over Cestus Cybernetics.”

“Shouldn't that be the other way around?” Another TGM official cut in.

These people's total ignorance of current events was beginning to wear on Erek, but fortunately Miko seemed totally prepared to answer any questions regarding his homeworld. “Cestus Cybernetics has become an asset of the Republic of Cestus. It has been permitted to remain largely autonomous, but ultimate authority over the corporation does remain with the government of Cestus and its leadership.”

The first man was still holding his datapad, now glancing back and forth between it and Miko. “So what are you doing here, Mr. Minn?”

“It's Regent,” Lady Farool cut in, her tone―though still light―carrying a hint of warning.

“Of course: Regent Minn.”

Miko smiled. He looked to Erek, who nodded after a moment. “I'm here to offer you a partnership, with Cestus Cybernetics.”

The TGM and Narg teams erupted into mutterings and brief exchanges with one another, until Lady Farool stood from her seat, bringing silence immediately. “What does a droid manufacturing company have to offer a starship producer?” Lady Farool asked gently.

“The Cooperative is preparing to privatized many of the Amorris-based factories which have fueled the Onyxian reconstruction,” Miko responded. “Cestus Cybernetics and the Cooperative Workers' Party have entered into an agreement which will permit the reintegrated refugees from the Fall of Onyx to hold substantial ownership percentages in these newly de-nationalized factories. We wish to put these factories―as well as many of those already owned by Cestus Cybernetics―to use in producing starship components for TransGalMeg's shipyards and light starship factories.”

“Production is nothing without sales,” One of the TGM administrators barked.

“That is why the Coalition wishes to secure long-term contracts from TransGalMeg for the large-scale production of starships of various models and designs,” Captain Brintt countered, offering a datapad to Lady Farool. She nodded, and one of her subordinates took the item, glancing over it briefly before handing it to her.

“This is . . . substantial,” Lady Farool finally said, putting the datapad aside for the time being.

“The Cooperative is preparing itself for a militarization program,” Admiral Blakeley said.

“The Eastern Province is beginning major military reconstruction following the Black Dragon War,” Ambassador Joron added.

“The Ryn Nation is undergoing mass expansion to accommodate new members and increase its productivity,” Regent Minn offered as his piece of the answer.

Several seconds passed, and Captain Brintt added his own piece. “The Western Province is preparing its own militarization plan now that it is to be linked with the remainder of the Coalition.”

His statement drew looks of suspicion and confusion from all but Lady Farool, who smiled in amusement. “That was the best transition you could manage, ambassador?”

“The Coalition is nearing completion of a Trans-Rim trade route,” Erek said firmly, alleviating the confusion shared by both the TGM and Narg delegations. Lady Farool raised her hand to cut off any outcry before it could begin. “It just so happens that Narg is located at a key junction along that route.”

Even Lady Farool couldn't quell the outburst from the Narg delegation. After a long moment, they finally quieted down enough for one of the TGM members to offer her thoughts. “That's a wonderful idea.” Her comment only brought further cries of defiance from the Narg representatives.

“High-orbit trade and refueling stations would be farther from Narg's surface than the existing shipyards!” The woman continued, shouting over the dissent. “There would be no need for the planet's direct involvement! All we need is your gravity,” She added, the Narg natives' outcries finally dying down.

“We need to make ourselves clear,” Erek stepped in, putting the TGM/Narg shouting bout on hold. “This is not simply a business exchange; this is a diplomatic endeavor. We are here to secure Narg's admission into the Cooperative of Systems and secure a Coalition charter with TransGalMeg Industries. We want to open you to the Coalition, but we want to do so as your ally, not as your business associate. You obviously have a great deal to discuss amongst yourselves; perhaps we should put this meeting on hold until you are prepared to give us an answer?”

Lady Farool had returned to the datapad she had been given earlier, now studying it carefully. “No. We will talk now.” Her tone was such that everyone present understood that she was offering nothing as of yet. “We will talk about this trade route.”

“The area around Rayter Secor is one of the last components of the route remaining to be mapped and secured,” Erek said. “Due to its proximity to Hutt Space, we need a world readily defensible. Narg is such a world. Upon completion, it will reach from the Cren Alliance to Sinsang, running exclusively through the Outer- and Mid- Rims. It will link the majority of Coalition worlds by a fast, secure route, and will permit the development of a more integrated―”

“Then it would be safe to say that you want us for our economic power?” Lady Farool asked, cutting off Erek's monologue.

“The Cooperative exists to see the Coalition prosper,” Admiral Blakeley said, waving Erek aside. “It exists to insure that those things which make us different, inevitably make us stronger. It exists to see the powerful aide the weak. The Cooperative exists, because the galaxy cannot afford for it not to. The Coalition is―largely―a Rimward organization. You are strong. We are offering you an opportunity to add your strength to that of those who are―largely―like you, despite their race or species. You have an opportunity to benefit yourselves and the galaxy beyond. There are two things which matter in life: ends, and means. Motive becomes irrelevant once action is taken.

“We can build a better Rim together, or we can watch it burn, from the Core outward. I am going to leave now, because you and your people need to discuss what we are offering. Friendship, partnership, integration, hope.”

Jonathan Blakeley bowed respectfully, turned, and walked away. Captain Brintt nodded politely to Lady Farool and then followed suit, careful not to throw an angry glare at the xenophobic natives. The remaining Coalition members excused themselves, and finally Lady Farool found herself alone with her subjects.

She glanced first to her TGM subordinates, and then to those who represented the government of Narg. If only I could abandon one or the other.

Athan skidded to a stop just outside the hatch leading into the docking bay, straightening his tattered nerf hide jacket one last time. He willed himself through the door, determined to meet this new development head-on, for good or bad. He worked up what he was fairly sure to be a convincing smile, taking the newcomer's hand in both of his and shaking it gingerly.

“This is Lady Shen Farool, Chief Administrator of TransGalMeg Industries and governor of the sovereign planet Narg,” Erek Joron announced.

“How sovereign is a planet that's ruled by a corporation?” Lady Farool mused, returning Athan's smile with one that was considerably more convincing.

“Umm, uhh . . .”

“Not very,” Miko Minn offered, patting Erek's shoulder reassuringly.

“I am not here in any official capacity,” Lady Farool explained, then leaned a little closer to Athan and whispered: “I ran away from home.”

Athan found himself laughing at the youthful exuberance of the woman, and nodded understandingly as he gestured to the exit. “Perhaps you would like a tour?”

“Ships are all the same,” Lady Farrol responded absently, turning to look at a group of mechanics on the far side of the bay. “People. Now there's something to marvel at.”

Athan took a long moment to study the woman. “Lady Farool, if you don't mind my asking―

“I wish to speak with the Mon Calamari . . . and the Quarren, of course,” She stated plainly, cutting off the Ryn.

“All of them?” He asked, grinning sheepishly.

“As many as I can manage,” She conceded, and then turned back to her shuttle. “You're all more than welcome to accompany me to the surface,” She added, a comment which confused more than one of the group's members.

“I'll clear it with traffic control,” Athan reported, making for the dock's exit.

“That's not very exiting,” The woman said, then rushed for the shuttle's access ramp.

Athan reversed direction and bolted for the ramp, making it just as the others did, which is to say: just in time. He spent the entire descent holding his commlink up to his mouth, bickering with the Aqualish traffic control operator.

The shuttle came to rest on the floating cargo dock, and Lady Farool rushed unceremoniously from the transport, running toward the first Mon Calamari she saw. He was sitting on the edge of a walkway, his feet dangling over the edge and into the water. A bulky control mechanism was sitting on his lap, which he was using to operate a nearby crane.

“Excuse me,” Lady Farool said, drawing closer to the fish-man.

He took one look at the Chief Administrator and immediately jumped to his feet, setting the device aside. He took her hand in both of his and bowed deeply, obviously picking up on her regal dress. “M'lady.”

“Please,” She said, withdrawing her hand gently. “Call me Shen.”

The Coalition delegates finally caught up to her, Athan still amused by her near-childish acts.

“Lady Shen,” The Mon Cal said, bobbing his head slightly.

She chuckled, ignoring the rest of them but turning to look at the control device he had been manipulating.

“The Ryn are doing the best they can,” The Mon Cal said, following her gaze. “They just weren't equipped for aquatic work.”

She snapped her attention back to him. “I'm sorry. May I ask your name, kind sir?”

“Maurack, formerly of Wildwater City, Dac.”

“If you don't mind, could we talk for a while?” Shen asked kindly.

Maurack glanced to Athan, who he apparently recognized, and Athan shrugged uncertainly. “Of course. Should we go inside?”

But Lady Shen was already tugging at her robes, sitting down right where she was. Maurack flapped his mouth open in surprise, then sat down beside Shen, who was removing her shoes and then hung them over the side, dipping them into the Ando ocean. He followed suit happily. “Tell me about your journey,” She said after a long moment, staring off at the horizon.

“The evacuation was holy hell,” He said, his mouth flapping oddly as he realized how crude the statement sounded. “Those Eastern boys don't play around. But they got us out, that's for sure. We got stuck at Teth for a while; that wasn't pretty, what with the Phage and all, but they took as good care of us as anybody else running from the Dragons.

“It wasn't until the Cooperative sent their boys over that stuff really started rolling. They pulled the Chadra-Fan into the mix, then hooked us up with the Aqualish here, and then forged right on toward the West, founding a colony on Ketaris along the way! I'll tell you one thing: whatever you may hear about the Ryn, they sure know how to fix a lost cause. Don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise. The Aqualish just about had to run 'em offworld here . . . now don't get me wrong: the Aqualish were ready to go, had construction plans and demographic maps laid out and everything by the time we got here . . .

“But the Ryn; the Ryn haven't stopped since they started, and nobody started until the Ryn made them. Whoever's holding their leash, handing them orders, flying them around: I hope they know what they've gotten their hands on. They've got the whole Coalition huddled around us now; I even hear the Cereans are gearing up to host a colony. The Cereans!”

Shen's gaze had drifted toward Athan, who had sat down nearby, crossing his legs. “I'm terribly sorry,” She said, still talking to Maurack, “I seem to have misunderstood. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

“Not at all, Madam. Not at all.”

Shen rose to her feet, shoes in hand, and bowed respectfully to the Mon Calamari. “Thank you for your time, Maurack.” And then she was off once again, apparently on her way back to her shuttle. The Coalition members once again made it just in time, and once again Athan spent the transit time on his commlink, arguing with traffic control.

The moment they touched down on the Ryn ship, Lady Farool rushed out of the shuttle, scampering across the docking bay, nearly shouting at a Ryn technician. “Tell me how you got here,” She said eagerly, her mind so set that she had forgotten even to introduce herself.

The Ryn quickly surveyed her regal dress, and then shook his head, almost shamefully. “Aww, you wouldn't want to hear a boring ole' story like that . . .”

“Of course I would.”





Four days later, Toggeus, Narg

If there was any species in the galaxy so appropriately equipped to weather the spiteful glares cast at them, it was the Ryn. At least that's what Athan kept telling himself as he made his way toward the table. He took his seat directly opposed to Lady Farool, marveling at her stately composure. Ambassador Joron was to one side and Admiral Blakeley to the other, opposing Lady Farool's Narg and TransGalMeg subordinates respectively.

This meeting was considerably smaller than the other, composed of only three members from Narg and three from TGM, with the three Coalition officials already mentioned and Captain Zive Brintt the only Coalition members present.

“Shall we begin?” Lady Farool said, her tone inquisitive but her features not at all so. “Ladies, Gentlemen: I present Ambassador Athan of the Ryn clan Sahalan.”

“Since when do Ryn have clans?” Administrator Joraal asked accusingly.

Lady Farool smiled at Athan, giving the slightest nod. “Since our people gained a seat on the Cooperative Combined Council and seized the respect we deserve,” He responded, careful to keep his tone even. He sensed the slightest shaking of Lady Farool's head; perhaps he had gone a little too far, considering those were the first words he had “officially” spoken to any TransGalMeg officials.

It put Administrator Joraal in his place, though. At least for the moment. “I have consulted at length with both the Board of Administrators and the Narg House of Representatives,” Lady Farool said, staring Athan straight in the eye. “I have weighed the opinions and reasons expressed to me carefully, and have noted those for and against this proposed Coalition alliance. I have been forced to consider both sides of the very strange coin which time and pressure have minted here on Narg, and I have reached a decision.

“With a plurality assent of the Narg House of Representatives and the consent of the Board of Administrators of TransGalMeg Industries, I officially request permission to enter into negotiations with the Cooperative of Systems on behalf of Narg, and Cestus Cybernetics on behalf of TransGalMeg Industries; the aim being to revise the proposed treaties presented and enter Narg as a member of the Cooperative of Systems and the Galactic Coalition of Planets under more mutually amicable terms, and secure a partnership between TransGalMeg Industries and Cestus Cybernetics under similar terms.”

Athan allowed himself a sigh of relief, taking note of the smug satisfaction on Administrator Joraal's face, and the submissive acknowledgment on Torran Hyjal's. He nodded, smiling, and then accepted the datapad that Lady Farool handed him. “Permission to begin a Ryn-led construction project in high orbit, for the creation of spaceports to serve the needs of the Coalition trade route,” She explained.

Athan's eyes widened in shock and he smiled again, tucking the datapad away safely. “This meeting is at an end,” She announced before Athan could respond. She gestured for her subordinates to scatter, making it clear that the Coalition delegation should remain.

“The Ryn are truly a noble race,” She said after a long moment, glancing from one individual to another. “The Cooperative is truly a noble establishment. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you both receive all that you deserve. I truly believe that if anyone can integrate Narg into the galaxy once more, it is the Cooperative. I truly believe that if any establishment can raise TransGalMeg to its former glory and beyond, it is the Ryn Nation. All of my faith is in you now.”

Fifteen minutes later, the small band of Coalition officials was on its way into space, moving out to set everything in motion. “You Ryn sure did a number on that lady,” Erek commented, glancing sideways to Athan. “How many of you guys did she talk to?”

“About two dozen, ranging from the captain of the ship to that first technician she ambushed. Yeah, I think we made an impression on her.” Athan flashed toothy smile.

“I'm still a little confused about it all,” The Rattataki captain admitted, looking to Erek to make sure he didn't react inappropriately.

“The burden of leading a people―even in the best of times―is . . . unimaginable,” Miko Minn spoke up, staring at the deck plating. “The burden of leading a major corporation is equally so. Add to that the turmoil pervasive in the galaxy and an existing native xenophobia . . . how do you Ryn do it?”

Athan smiled. “Counterweights. We're building the Cooperative. We're saving the Dac refugees. We're building the hyperroute. None of it's entirely true, but everyone's pretending like it is, which means everyone is pretending like we're more important than we really are. After generations of slavery, poverty, and racism; we have risen. We have risen on the shoulders of the Cooperative, hand-in-hand with all the others given up for dead. We stand shoulder to shoulder with the fallen people of Onyx and the outcast sons of Dac.

“For the first time since our people started writing their tales, this one is one to be proud of. We trudge on . . . because finally we are permitted to trudge forward.”

“And your boys said all of that to her?” Erek asked, obviously reading all of the propaganda and nationalism in the answer, but obviously respecting the underlying truth of the statement.

Athan shook his head. “They didn't have to. She looked right through them, and saw it in them.”

This much was sure: Lady Shen Farool, Chief Administrator of TransGalMeg Industries and Governor of the sovereign planet of Narg was the type of person any being would want on their team. Fortunately, the Ryn had convinced her that the Cooperative was the kind of team she wanted to be on.