Baralou takeover (Aqualis Baralou Algae Processing Plant #T-18)

David Jarkel gazed out upon the vast expanse of Baralou’s oceans. The royal blue waves calmly rolled up to the coastline, sloshing against the thick vegetation that formed the base of the tropical island on which he stood. The teenager closed his eyes as the gentle ocean breeze slightly ruffled his dark hair. The breeze stopped, leaving only the shade of the sprawling vegetation to cool him. He smiled. These are the times of paradise. It’s hard to imagine that there’ll be fifty meter high tidal waves pounding this very spot in a couple of hours; courtesy of the planet’s four moons. A twig snapped. David frowned and reached into his short’s pocket for the vibroblade he always carried.

“How go fooding?”

The youth spun about to face the speaker. Looking at the being, he forced himself to maintain a neutral face. An odd, roughly humanoid alien with aquatic features stared at the boy with beady black eyes. It was a Multopos, one of the amphibous natives to the watery world. Even after seven years on the planet, Jarkel had a hard time distinguishing between the beaky, repitilian faces. So instead, he had focused on the markings, which ranged between mottled gray to light blue depending on the region. This one has dark mottling on a light blue surface. It’s only Pocca-dot then. Thank the maker…I think. I haven’t seen him in ages.

“Hello Pocca-dot,” stated the human, “fooding is good.”

The Multopos were fairly primitive people, just beginning to advance out of the stone age culture. At least according to his boss. Jarkel sometimes wondered if there was more too them than that. After all, the deep sea had just been peeked at by outsiders in a single submersible dive. Perhaps they had underwater cities like the Gungans. But while the technological and cultural development of the species was somewhat unknown to the outsiders, one thing was certain: that they hadn’t learned to speak Basic fluently or correctly. Jarkel and the other several dozen humans on the world found it mildly irritating to continue conversations on using Pidgin Basic. Mostly because the lack of vocabulary between the two made it hard to effectively communicate complex ideas. The aquatic being edged closer.

“Want you barter?”

David shook his head exaggeratedly. “Thanks, no.”

“Why tat?”

The human fought off a grimace at the creature’s almost babyish use of Basic.

“Have no trading thing,” stated Jarkel.

The being pointed at Jarkel’s pocket. David relunctantly sighed and pulled out his vibroblade knife. Pocca-dot seem enamored with the object, twisting his head to see the object at various angles.

“Me give you good ting for tat.”

The human nodded, “I’m sure you would, it’s just that I need it.”

The alien looked at the boy quizzically. Jarkel let out an exasperated sigh. Explaining this could get tough.

“If me give you knife, then Boss Dewol get angry at Jarkel. Very angry.”

The alien nodded in apparent understanding and held out an object. It was a yellow curved fruit; doubtless from one of the many fruit trees that littered the island. It looked tantalizing tasty. Jarkel pursed his lips. If only it wasn’t poisonous. The plants that grew on Baralou’s little soil had evolved to protect themselves with poison. The vast majority of the ground-based fruits and vegetables that could be harvested for human consumption had at least traces of poison harmful to most beings. The exception to the rule were the natives themselves, which had evolved alongside the planets; they could eat the produce without ill affect. It was something Jarkel envied given the plethora of fruit around the islands. The human shook his head again.

“Thank no. It makes Jarkel sick,” stated the human, pointing at the fruit.

“No,” replied the alien, biting a piece of the fruit, “It good. Mhmmm…”

The boy sighed and looked out to the ocean. A dark, boxy shape hovered on the horizon, gradually moving closer to their island. There was only one thing like it on the entire planet. Jarkel smiled. Aqualis Baralou Algae Processing Plant #T-18. They many people aren’t happy to go to work. But I am not one of them, considering work is the only beacon of advanced civilization on this planet. The maturing boy turned to Pocca-dot.

“Home comes. Bye Pocca-dot.”

The strange alien silently waved its web hand at David before scampering off into the thick vegetation of the island. Jarkel turned to look at the approaching rectangular structure closely. It was commonly called Aqualaris Base by its crew, but it had as much if not more in common with a fishing trawler rather than base. The large structure floated across Baralou’s vast oceans on a set of repulsorlifts, which were also used to steer the ‘base’. Onboard the base, several dozen humans harvested the Bestrum Algae of the planet via sealed aquapods and processed it into various foodstuffs. Nearly a hundred droids took care of maintaining and repairing the base and its equipment as needed. While the base was a relative small looking facility, it produced significantly more food than most similar operations because the crew was always harvesting and processing food; they didn’t have to wait for a crop to grow. Aqualaris Base slowly came to halt and drifted on the ocean waves. A small repulsorlift craft exited from a side hatch, skimmed the water, and came to a halt on the grassy shore. David smiled as the man got out of the craft.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Dewol.”

The bearded man smiled. “You too David. Come on, hurry up. I have some news to break to the crew. I was just waiting to get you back onboard.”

“Yes sir.”



Atlas Hall, Brandenburg, Genon

The neoclassical building was awash with activity from the Coalition. Military units and supplies borrowed from the Coalition were being sent back. Likewise, Confederation units assigned to other Coalition units such as the VSD Iron Mantis were being brought back to Confederate space. While the amount of transfers needed was not staggering, the paperwork and protocols that came with it was. The Confederate Merchant Marine’s Styria Galleons tirelessly ferried both Coalition and Confederate personnel and supplies between the factions. While many of the administrative staff worked and bustled around the clock on this project, several others relaxed in the Rear-Admiral’s office.

“I don’t see how it can hurt,” stated Commander Gaeta, “Baralou is already within our sphere of influence and near our core. Easily enough to defend. What’s to stop us from taking their offer?”

“Politics,” sighed the Rear-Admiral, “the application was made by the man who heads the mobile processing plant. He is well-backed by his employees. They no doubt would support the decision. But the natives are a different matter?”

Gaeta raised an eyebrow. “The natives?”

Corise nodded. “The plant has thirty or so humans on it with droids. But the rest of the world does have sentinent life. There is an aquatic, humanoid species called the Multopos. There’s an estimated 500,000 of them. They’re on good terms with the humans, so I don’t think they would be a problem. The problem lies with the Krikthasi. They’re the other race on the planet. Deepsea dwelling like the Quarren. There’s probably more of them than the Multopos. And the two species don’t get along. They’re in continual warfare apparently.”

“So support the Multopos and humans.”

Corise sighed. “The Multopos and Krikthasi are not remotely technologically advanced. They’re on the edge of entering medieval times if that. So that wouldn’t be too hard. So it’s an ethics question then. Do we violently intervene in a society like that? They wouldn’t stand a chance. It would be a political nightmare here at home. Killing defenceless beings, even if they are grosteque aliens.”

“So work it so it’s not a nightmare then. Things can be fabricated…”

Lucerne vigourously shook his head. “We’re not Imperials. No, we will live by the truth. But your words did give me an idea to the problem.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to broker a peace treaty between the two species,” stated the officer.

“Did you just say cavemen, well not literally, and peace treaty in the same sentence. Do they even understand things that complex?”

The Rear-Admiral frowned. “Don’t be so closed-minded. Simply because they’re not very advanced doesn’t make them stupid. They just haven’t been given the right conditions or time yet to be on our level. Prepare a few ships. We’re going to make a visit to the world.”

Pegasus-class Star Destroyer Audacieuse, Baralou system

Bright light from Baralou’s star bathed the Audacieuse and her consorts in a golden radiance, as if the ships were made of gold. The Confederate warships slowly cruised towards a sapphire coloured ball: Baralou. Four moons slowly rotated around the ocean planet, forcing the Contegorian ships to make an erratic course to compensate for the astrological objects’ gravitational force. The three other warships, all of them Juaire-class Gunships, maintained a triangle around the Confederate flagship, making a secure perimeter in case the small squadron was jumped by enemy warships; an unlikely event considering how close the planet was to the Confederation core worlds.

“System jump completed sir. We are beginning a full scan of the system,” stated a bridgecrew member from the crewpit.

Standing on the walkway, the Rear-Admiral nodded. “Flight Control, see if you can scramble some Deathsabers for CAP duty. I want one at least checking out the rendezvous point on the surface. The others can maintain standard patrol procedure.”

“Yes sir.”

The black-uniformed officer strode over to his command chair and sat down. I would prefer to be looking down at the planet itself right now from the viewport. There’s just one problem; that we’re right by a star, and it’s blindingly bright. The younger Lucerne stroked his chin. I wonder what they were thinking when the explorers named both the primary star and planet Baralou. In fact, why is there an ‘alou’ at the end of every planet in the system? There’s the Alou Belt, Masalou, Yaralou, and Tanalou. None of the others have any life or anything of value; at least from what we know. The Alou Belt and Masalou are nothing more than large rocks. Yaralou is a rock covered in water. And Tanalou is an ice planet. Basically Hoth but without any lifeforms. The Rear-Admiral looked at a holo of the world Baralou. I guess there’s a reason it’s considered the jewel of the system.

“Sir, the Deathsabers have picked up an audio only message transmitting from Aqualaris base. Probably just a welcome message. Should I play it?”

Corise nodded and waved his hand, “Patch it through.”

An older man’s gravelly voice came through the speakers on his command chair.

“This is addressed to Rear-Admiral Corise Lucerne of the Contegorian Confederation fleet. Welcome to our lovely world of Baralou. We hope to meet you via shuttle at the pre-arranged time. However, it is our wish to inform you that the tensions between the native peoples have flared up to a full-scale war. It is my relunctant suggestion that any exploration of the planet underwater or on its islands be postponed until they have flared down. Dewol out.”

“Sir, we’ve determined that the message was recorded. It’s been continually transmitting ever since.”

The Kashan man frowned. “Are there any signs of damage to Aqualaris base, or any lifeforms?”

“Yes sir. Our starfighters made a quick pass over the base. From the sensor data logs, everything appears to be normal. There are no signs of damage, we count roughly three dozen humanoid lifeforms onboard.”

Gaeta nodded. “They probably don’t have any sensors on that barge capable of detecting a starship at this range. Especially given the proximity of the planet to their sun.”

“Or,” stated the younger Lucerne, “any communications powerful to get to us yet. We could probably get it if we were in orbit.”

The younger Lucerne sighed and turned to Commander Gaeta.

“Our strategy might be a little difficult now. Instead of calming the sea of tension, we are going to have to break the tides of war.”

“Our strategy?” smiled the man from Soroya, “In any case, do we take their advice and not launch the survey teams? It’s not like they’re unarmed. And we are going against primitive people...”

The Rear-Admiral vigourously shook his head. “I don’t doubt that they could hold their own, especially under water with their Explorer Submersibles. The beam weapons on that thing would terrify and easily massacre many of their people. But using them would probably provoke their hostility. Something, mind you, that we do not want at all. No, we will see if we can get a hold of their leaders via their contact with Aqualaris Base. We know Dewol has talked to the leadership of both sides before, albeit that was a long, long time ago.”

Commander Gaeta shrugged. “If you say so.”

Corise mock-glared at the man. “I do say so…”



Aqualaris Base, Baralou

A wizened, old man stood on the upper deck of the floating base, listening to the waves gently lapping up against the lower durasteel sides. A strong ocean breeze tossed and turned his few remaining locks of white hair across his otherwise bald head. In the distance, large whitecaps topped the massive tidal waves that frequented the ocean. An anthropologist who once visited the planet remarked that it was these very waves that had prevented the Multopos and Krikthasi from reaching a higher state of civilization. Dewol didn’t doubt it; 50 meter tidal waves would do a lot of damage to even most modern galactic structures.

“What is it Mr. Dewol?” asked David, coming up behind the man.

“Nothing,” stated the man, leaning up against the railing, “I was just wondering how the planet would be different if we didn’t have those tidal waves. Imagine the Multopos and Krikthasi being advanced civilizations; capable of space travel and having an industrial outputs.”

Jarkel leaned up against a rail alongside his boss. “I think we would be out of a job here.”

Dewol nodded. “True, because they could to any of this with a lot more manpower. I think manpower is going to become more common in the near future as well.”

“The Confederates?”

The former Rebel nodded. “I imagine they will make an established presence here. They’re probably have to build everything like our good old base here. But gun emplacements and more algae processing plants. It’ll become another breadbasket planet.”

“It’s hard to complain about that,” stated Jarkel, “we won’t be having any more supply problems then. We won’t have to worry about the Treppok or the Gropseth or any other aquatic predators. Or most bad guys at all. It wouldn’t be worth the risk for them”

“Not necessarily,” wearily stated Dewol, “I remember in the old days back when this facility was part of the Rebel Alliance. We always had to worry that the Empire would one day figure out our ruse, come in, and completely crush us. That was back in the days when the Aqualaris Food Conglomerate was actually a front company instead of the real thing it is now. I don’t think the Confederation would be able to stop a full Imperial onslaught.”

The teenager snorted. “I’m not sure if they’d think it was worth it. Who wants to fight a fortified planet for algae? I’ve heard on the news holos that most of the Confederation is so heavily fortified that if the Imperials do manage to take one of their worlds, they’d take pyrrhic casualties in the process.”

“One can only hope my boy,” stated the base’s boss, glancing at his chrono, “but I should get spiffed up. The Confederates are due to meet us in less than an hour.”

David looked over the guy. “I think you look fine.”

Dewol glanced at his reflection in the water and barked a laugh. “I doubt they’ll be impressed by utility overalls with suspenders…”

Aqualaris Base, Baralou

“…while I find your idea noble, the odds of it working are astronomical. Even Corellians in my crew won’t take those odds. The Krikthasi have been eating the eggs of the Multopos for as long as they have ever known. Moreover, the Krikthasi refuse to acknowledge that the Multopos are even sentient beings,” stated Dewol exasperatedly.

Corise mutedly nodded and glanced down at the worn durasteel table of the base’s small mess hall. Nearly ever other diplomatic encounter I’ve had has been in great halls or heavily protected warships or bases. The Kashan man sighed. And they’re mostly with diplomats. Overly optimistic and manipulating diplomats. Let’s see. What’s a common phrase that I hear? Oh, this: I’m sure we can work something out to the benefit of both parties. Let’s see…I’ll take this, that, and this, oh, and we’ll give you this one thing. The Kashan man’s eyes briefly swept across the room, noting the worn, but purely functional equipment. But Dewol is not one of those men, he’s more like a military leader than a diplomat. He isn’t motivated by greed for power or any selfish reason like that. He just wants the best for his own people. Or, at least that’s how he’s came across. No reason to break that intuition yet…

“So, what do you plan to do then?” questioned the plant manager.

The Rear-Admiral declined. “I’m going to have to at least try it. Otherwise, your admission into the Confederation will be rough at best. They’ll be politicians and activists continually questioning why we didn’t bother for the native’s opinion or permission. And since they’re the majority of the population, we won’t be able to sweep it under the rug.”

“I understand.”

Corise leaned forward. “We’ve brought your base some extra supplies that we thought you might need. Just the basics like extra food, tools, and some construction materials. We can get them down from the ships whenever you would like.”

“Much obliged, but I don’t think we’ll need the food, being a food plant.”

The Rear-Admiral raised an eyebrow. “When was the last time you had Nerf?”

The other man shook his head and smiled. “A long time ago. I see your point. I suppose we could use some variety besides foodstuffs derived from fish and algae. I know Grisnak would gladly welcome any of the traditional staples like bread. Let me guess, you want me to summon the alien’s leaders in return?”

Corise shrugged. “It’s just as much for you and as it is for me. They’re a roadblock to our progress.”

Dewol slowly nodded. “Understandable. I’ll arrange for a meeting at Summit Island.”

The younger Lucerne raised an eyebrow. “Summit Island?”

“Yes,” nodded Dewol, “It’s where the Alliance first established links with both species for the operation of this base. We barely managed to get that meeting down. We finished it, and both species went right at each other as soon as the documents were done being signed. I hope you can think of some way of keeping them down for this one.”

Corise nodded. “I’ll talk to our anthropologists and xenospecialists and see if they can figure something out.”



Several Days later…

Summit Island, Baralou

Corise overlooked the meeting grounds of the island with pained fascination. In the midst of the jungle, a shallow fjord stretched from the ocean into the dark center of the island. A variety of trees and native foliage provided shade while a primitive rock wall kept outsiders out and the meeting confined. The Kashan man wiped a bead of sweat from his eyebrow as he stared at the water. Whoever planned this place out was thinking. Both the Krithkasi and the Multopos should feel comfortable and at ease in the water and we humans can still converse and move comfortably in the shallows. Well, assuming that a multi-racial brawl doesn't ensue...

“Sir?”

Corise spun about on his heel to face a camouflaged man. “Yes sergeant?”

“All the security and restraining procedures are in place. And I’m confident that we’ll be able to control at least the Multopos with them. We stunned one that was trying stowaway on one of our shuttles.”

The younger Lucerne sighed. “Is it all right?”

“Yes sir. He is all right. One of the Aqualaris Base crew knows him and is watching over him right now. Kind of funny, but the boy keeps referring to the alien as Pocca-dot.”

“Very good sergeant. I have confidence that you and your men will be more than capable for the job.”

“Thank you sir,” replied the Confederate soldier, disappearing into the jungle with his active camouflage suit.

Grasping the hilt of his ultrachrome smallsword, the younger Lucerne’s eyes swept across the mismatched crowd of aquatic aliens and humans. Despite the peaceful intent of the gathering, weapons were everywhere. Aqualaris base members all seemed to carry a vibroblade of some sort if not a blaster pistol. The Confederates all carried their standard sidearms, and in cases, ceremonial weapons as well. An odd assortment of weapons ranging from primitive spears to Blastech rifles could be found in the webbed hands of the Multopos. And their archenemies, the Krikthasi, all carried a short javelin-type weapon set with a stone head. But for the moment, things were peaceful, if edgy. The humans and Multopos waded through the shallow waters, chatting in the alien’s primitive form of basic. Krikthasi bunched up together in their respective clan groups, their heads just out of the water to listen to the gathering; apparently the species got hurt simply by being out of water. The Confederate Rear-Admiral eyed one of the strange beings.

They seemed to be large marine mollusks with long, flexible bodies. Each one had four small eyes above which were two mouths. Behind the head were four tentacles, and on the opposite end of the creature, four more tentacles. Supposedly the creatures used a natural form of jet propulsion, allowing them to reach up to speeds of forty kilometers per hour underwater. He sighed. While I have hope that the Multopos will be able to fit into galactic and Confederate society, I doubt these things ever will. Particularly since their main activity seems to be waging tribal warfare with spears. He glanced at one of the primitive weapons jutting out of the water. Still, not something I would want to mess with within the water.

Dewol hobbled over to the younger Lucerne.

“Well, I got them here,” stated the base’s leader, “what will you do if things fall through?”

“That depends on how things fall through. If the Krikthasi intend to fight us, we will fight back. In fact, we could very well end up allying with the Multopos in fighting them,” replied Lucerne, “but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Why’s that?”

“We can basically guarantee that the Multopos will join because of offering to bring them up onto the galactic standard of technology…”

“That’s not much of a surprise considering that they’ll exchange previous gems and whatnot for blasters. How exactly are you going to get Krikthasi to co-operate?”

The Rear-Admiral stared at one of the Krikthasi huddles. “With many animal species, the best hunter or protector becomes the leader of the group. Even in humanity’s own ancient past, there was a time when the greatest warrior often became the leader of the people through a duel, war, or the hunt. The Krikthasi seemed to have followed this evolutionary leadership style. So there is going to be a duel. If we lose, we Confederates leave the planet and present them gifts. If we win, they will become part of our society or at least accept our control of the planet. We will leave them alone for the most part, hopefully.”

The former rebel looked at the officer’s smallsword. “You’re going to be the duelist?”

“Not exactly,’ stated Lucerne, turning to face an humanoid silhouette in the trees, “That is.”

Dewol slowly nodded. “I’ve heard of your Paladin droids before. They’re somewhat smaller than what I expected, still intimidating though. If you let it use any of its modern weapons, whoever the Krikthasi send won’t have a chance…unless, is the body watertight?”

Corise nodded. “All of the Paladin IIs are. They were originally to prevent the use of Plank gas to corrode electronics..”

“Well,” stated Dewol, looking at his chrono, “it looks like it’s time for the meeting to start.”



“…so these are our offers of peace and friendship,” stated Lucerne.

A Multopos chieftain stepped forward to take the spotlight. “We admit to rest of people that we talk about this before among us. We glad take the Confedereeeete offer in help to bring stuff to make our life better. We now glad be Confedereeetes,” stated the alien, ending his short response with his best imitation of the Confederate salute.

Corise nodded. The Maker help us…

“We do not,” gargled one of the Krikthasi chieftains, “We will hunt and feast on your soft flesh until you are all dead. Your entails will cover the waters and the sea will be red with your blood.”

The younger Lucerne stepped forward. “We challenge you to a fight. If you win, the Confederates will leave the planet. If we win, you will become law-abiding Confederate citizens.”

The alien hissed. “I accept your challenge. Send out your best.”

Around the sides of the squid-like creature, four jagged, obsidian points broke through the surface. Each one began to slowly rotate in half circles around from the Krikthasi warrior. He turned around to see the opposing hulk of a light gray Paladin II slowly marching through the shallow water to engage the Krikthasi. The alien fighter hurled one of its primitive javelins at the battle droid. Soaring through the air, the javelin smashed into droid’s torso armor, shattering the stone spearhead. As the shaft bounced off, the droid coolly waded forward to nearly point-blank range with the alien. The Krikthasi hissed, dropped its javelins, and wrapped its multiple legs around his opponent, futilely trying to pull the powerful automaton down. Unaffected by its opponent’s attack, the droid grasped a hold of the Krikthasi with its armored hands and began to pull it above the surface. Corise frowned as the alien began to gasp for air. Apparently it can’t breathe that good above water if at all. And its skin is beginning to shrivel up. That thing must have the survival rate of a Jawa on Hoth when it’s above water. The younger Lucerne sighed as he approached the entangled pair.

“Do you cede the fight?” questioned the Confederate officer.

The other creature gasped. “Never…”

One of the Krikthasi’s legs reached underwater to retrieve a javelin. Whirling it about in a circle, the warrior pointed the spear’s head to himself and plunged it forward: directly into his tube-like torso. It let out a gasp, shuddered, and fell limp. The Rear-Admiral stared at the deadly droid.

“Release him.”

The droid complied, dropping the Krikthasi into the water with a splash. Sighing, the officer turned around to the gathering. Several of the defeated creature’s tentacles began to slowly, and painfully surface. Blood began to surface around the rising Krikthasi. The creature let out a growl and hissed at the Rear-Admiral, prompting the Kashan man to grasp his smallsword. The aquatic being edged forward. The Confederate drew his sword and pointed it down towards the water.

“I will kill you if you get closer,” stated the man.

“You didn’t let me die before. You have a soft heart. Mercy is weakness…”

The Krikthasi lunged forward intending to wrestle with the man. Instead, the Kashan man raised the tip of his sword to meet the wounded alien’s torso. The ultrachrome tip pierced through the skin of the creature, releasing a high-power electrical shock into the creature during the process. The Krikthasi shuddered and continued to impale itself on the thrusting sword, painfully edging closer to its adversary. Corise’s left arm swung back in preparation for a hook. The alien stopped and slid down back the tapered blade into the water. The body settled down to the stream’s bed and finally sat still. The younger Lucerne bowed and shut his eyes.

“War is not a lovely thing. Neither is fighting,” stated Lucerne, turning to face the gathering, “I am in the understanding that you Multopos, you Krikthasi, have been fighting for many years. As Confederation citizens, this must stop. It is a violation of Confederate civilian laws to fight another sentient being except in self-defence. Now is the time for harmony and growth. Both of your species have been offered a chance to bring up your living standards. Will you take it? Will you contribute to the rest of the galaxy? I think…”



Weeks Later…

A gentle breeze lightly brushed the younger Lucerne’s face. The Kashan man leaned up against one of the tropical planet’s odd trees, watching the tides roll onto the beach below. Several Multopos and human adolescents ran around it, playing some sort of ball game which involved hitting the said object over a net hung suspended by two poles. He smiled. The innonence and happiness of youth. Something rarely seen in the galaxy these days. Something that should be seen more. Corise slightly shifted his weight. War and grief has certainly taken its toll on the galaxy. When will we ever get back to those days?
“Rear-Admiral?”

Startled, Corise quickly swiveled about to face the man.

“Sorry sir,” stated the Confederation private, “but I was told to give this datapad. It’s from the surveying team and the Department of Economics.”

Taking the datapad, Corise nodded. “Thank you soldier.”

He began to scroll down the datapad.

Resource Survey of Baralou

Baralou has a small, but well-established aquaculture economy based on Aqualaris Base. This base has produced a variety of foodstuffs all of which are derived from the abundant Bestrum Algae for several decades. Because of its reliability and lack of work needed in culturing the said plant because of its rapid and natural growth, it is recommended that other food-processing plants like Aqualaris Base be manufactured and employed to gather these foodstuffs. Doing so would greatly increase the harvest rate and thus help us meet the goal of having a year’s worth of food for every planet as per the Confederation’s new defence acts established by the Council.

There are two other highly untapped resources on this planet. The obvious one being the aquatic animal life which could be harvested. Fishing has not been established on a commercial scale, but doing so would not be hard and the bounty would be fairly sufficient to attract commercial interests. We believe the native Treppok could likely be the prime harvest for such an operation. On average, each one of this large fish is thirty meters long. We estimated that one such fish could easily provide the protein for an average family for over a month. The Treppok and other fish exist in large numbers because they have never been harvested en masse by advanced civilizations. In order to keep these large populations, it is recommended that limits be placed on their harvests. We have attached recommendations for each species.

Finally, Baralou’s vast mineral resources have come to our attention. Like most of Baralou, they are abundant but untapped. They appear to have been caused by the internal pressure of the planet, caused partially by the relatively close proximity to the system’s sun. In any case, there is a large amount of gems including rubies, sasho gems, kuggerags, diamonds and jasse hearts. In any case, they could easily prove to be a large source of income not only for the planet, but also for the Confederation….