Onboard Commonwealth Freighter Ambassador Seven Enroute to the planet Zikanyo.

Ambassador Seven carried two passengers. Ambassador Mark Rubino and his bodyguard Sive Wilson. The freighter could be considered totalitarian at best. Behind the ship's cockpit was a room that tripled as a kitchen, dining room, and sleeping quarters. An even smaller room at the back of the room served as an extremely cramped refresher.

"Sive, did you know that the ambassadors of the Old Republic traveled in one hundred meter long palaces?"

Sive looked up from the ships control, and back at Mark who was sitting at the dining room table reviewing notes on their destination.

"I think that I read about that somewhere. What is your point Mark?"

"My point, Sive, is that these travel accommodations are below our dignity and our status. I mean, will the Zikanyoens even want to trade with us when they see this travesty of a vessel land on one of their ports?""

Sive got out of the pilot's chair and walked into the other room, so that he could sit at the chair opposite of the Mark.

"Mark, I think that the Zikanyoens aren't going to give a flying fuck about what a piece of shit of a ship those Bonadan elitists slanted us with considering that it is a hundred years ahead of the most experimental technology that the Zikanyoens have achieved."

At a casual glance, it looked as if Mark Rubino was an assignment that Sive Wilson just had to deal with for a while. If he did a good job, maybe he would become Scipio Arien's bodyguards one of these days. But... It was not exactly like that. Sive and Mark the were best of friends. They could be considered an almost perfect pairing of opposites. Sive was the brawns and the common sense of the pair. Though sometimes pompous, Mark had an amazing mind geared towards economic policy and deal making. He was also a great orator.

"Well Sive, if you put it that way-"

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The ship's navicomputer began to twirp, signaling that they would be exiting hyperspace in the next few minutes. Both men made their way back into the cockpit, and then began to strap themselves in for ship's turbulent descent to the planet's surface.





Ambassador Seven moved closer and closer to Zikanyo. The planet now dominated the ship's viewport. Huge expanses of desert punctuated by lush looking green areas seemed to characterize the geography of Zikanyo.

"Ambazzador Zeven, zis is Zikanyo ground control. Pleaze stand by while one of our satelites relayz your landing coordinatez."

The flight controller seemed to struggle with some of the syllables of Basic, or maybe he just had an odd accent.

"Coordinates recieved ground control. We are beginning our approach vector."

"Acknowledged."

The mandated approach path to the capital city took them over a forest with trees that almost reached hights of some the ones of Kashyyk. Then over a lake hundred of mile in size.

"Hmm..."

"What?" asked Mark.

"There seems to be something approaching from our rear."

"I wouldn't worry. It's probably just an honor guard that they sent up to escort us in."

"No..."

Countermeasures sent the ship into a violent spin, narrowly missing a huge tree. Mark could see a missile coming back around for another pass at the ship.

"Get us out of here Sive!"

Sive turned down the inertial compensator, and then began to put the ship into breakneck turns, spins, and rolls, but the missile kept shortening the gap.
Mark watched the sensors as it moved closer and closer. Then an explosion rocked the ship as the missile made contact with one of the wings.

Ambassador Seven was thrown into a death spin. The ground became closer and closer. Then.... Nothing.


* * *


Mark Rubino opened is eyes, ears ringing, he saw Sive, blaster rifle in hand, taking pot shots at an unseen enemy.

Mark drift away back into dreamland. When he awoke he saw something new.
Masked men in all black were forcing Sive back into the ship. They then took up defensive positions around the ship shooting at Sive's unseen enemy. Though out in the open there bodies refused to be touched by bullets even though they shot there long rifles with drum like magazines as fast as their fingers would go.

Sive ran up to Mark.

"Come-On-We've-got-go!"

At that, Mark fainted again.

Commonwealth Ambassadorial Assembly
Ambassador One Program
Two Years Ago



"What comes to your mind when you think of being an Ambassador?" the blonde woman asked quite amiably and scores of hands rose.

"Settling planetary disputes!"

The woman grinned slightly at the answer. "No, that's mediating." Several hands went down.

"Trying to get someone to do something they don't want to do!"

"No. That's manipulating. Yes, another hand?" as more hands went down.

"Umm... telling someone something just to get them to join you."

"No. That's lying." and all the hands went down.

The blonde woman sighed. "Being an Ambassador is mastering the art of negotiation. But..." the blonde teacher raised a finger, "...negotiation towards what? That is the big separator between definitions of what an ambassador is."

A hand is raised.

"Yes?"

"But doesn't some negotiations require lying, manipulation or mediation to achieve what's best for your government?"

Scipio smiled. "So, we come back to the question: Negotiation towards what? What are the goals of your government? How far does your government want you to go to acheive an advantage? Even if that advantage is only in your mind?"

The former leader of the Caprician Scipio Clan began to pace with the auditorium audience at rapt attention.

"The Galactic Coalition has a particular method of negotiation where they paint everything as black and white. They travel to a galactically nonaligned world with a singular overriding purpose: Get the planet to join them or ensure that the planet does not go over to the Empire. There is no third option for any third option validates a purpose other than the Coalition Manifest Destiny.

The Empire has a similar method of negotiation that is equally uncompromising. They, however, do not look for others to join them. They desire submission. Achieve that or ensure that the planet does not go over to the Coalition (or other government they consider a threat). To consider a third option invalidates their superiority complex.

This is not what the Commonwealth is all about. We consider the third option. Perhaps a planet previously unknown to us or discovered is not ready to associate with a galactic government? Perhaps a planet does not have the necessary infrastructure to do so? What if it is a new civilization and not a technological world that has fallen on hard times?"

Several voices spoke up as Scipio invited discussion.

"Then we infuse their infrastructure. We build them up..."

"Accelerate their society's normal progression, yes?"

At the affirmation, Scipio shook her head. "That level of interference only benefits one side. The one doing the interfering."

She smiled, "Sure, you may eventually have the planet join your little government but no matter what facade the world puts up at being a part of you, it is still a facade. Because you've built an artificial concensus rather than a genuine choice. You have stacked the cards and a galactic government will not last long stacking the cards like that. Eventually the house of cards comes crashing down.


Take the Empire for example. A the end of the Coalition/Sovereignty War with the Empire, the Empire was making massive advances within Sovereignty space. That government was tottering and the Coalition was barely holding it's own with it's entire fleet amassed at Corellia. The Empire likes to throw out it's negotiations as further evidence of them winning the war on all fronts, even it's ambassadors are soldiers for the Empire. All it's negotiations are one-sided; a fact that they do not hide. There will come a point when there will be no more negotiation and the cost of Imperial activities will go up and the value of their ambassadors will go down. For the Empire will accept only one term. Winning. When their ambassadors fail to deliver, the Empire will ossify and begin to collapse!"

The audience stirred.

"For ambassadors have to negotiate with one other important party besides those outside their government. Those inside their own government!"

She began to pace again.

"Negotiation is for the benefit of ALL parties involved or parity, balance, cannot be achieved. Why do we want balance?

Because all governments operate on the principle of going concern! And it is the philosophy of our Commonwealth that we cannot have going concerns, we cannot expand our influence, we cannot strengthen our agreements, ties, friendships and alliances without considering the advantage of those we are connected too!

Our Ambassadors will have an added dimension to their responsibilities working for the Commonwealth because the Commonwealth's concern is not for simply the gain of today, the advantage of now.. the temporary 'win' of seizing allegiances or planets! The Commonwealth cares about what is also of benefit to those worlds we contact. Is it advantageous to the world we visit to actually join in a trade agreement with us? To build contracts? To associate or join into our Commonwealth? If such a move will ultimately hurt the world, we will not consider it.

Why? Because it builds a commodity that is in short supply in this galaxy. It is a commodity that bound Capricia and Bonadan together and it is the strongest force in this galaxy.

And that force is Trust.

And THAT is what sets the Commonwealth apart from other galactic governments. Our going concern. Our concern for those around us. We are not the leeches that suck the life from planets to fuel an overbloated galactic agenda.

We are not out to rule the galaxy. We are out to build Trust! And with that Trust, strengthen ourselves as well as others.

Our negotiations involve the building, the laying, the protecting and defending of Trust.

Welcome, to the Ambassador One Program..."






One Year Ago..
Ambassador Six Program


Scipio looked hard at the man before her, keeping her anger at bay. The students watched with wary interest as the exercise was finished. "Do you know why you failed, Mr. Rubino?"

The man looked at Scipio without a trace of emotion, his eyeglasses covering the expression of his eyes. "A negotiator is only as good as the government supporting him." he quipped. "If the government does not care to keep it's people supplied, then what's the point in trying to get others to join it? This was an exercise so why wasn't the Commonwealth government programmed to have the resources to allow me to do my job!?"

Scipio saw some of the students nod their heads in agreement and while she expected it, she was suprised at the amount of fury that rose within her.

She began to enter some commands into the holographic/hardlight matrix to reset the room to another situation. Her voice was deceptively quiet. "Before I answer your charges, Mr. Rubino, I want you to work with this next situation and see how you negotiate yourself through it."

Rubino shrugged and confidently turned to enter the hardlight chamber once more...




The seventy year old man stood up and walked to the platform that overlooked an empty construction berth, many soldiers getting organized down below. Almost like ants milling around.

Rubino was not impressed, seeing that he was one of the "ants". The smells were musty and staring at the condition of everyone, he knew their limits had been reached, most exceeded.


"Soldiers!" the old man started, his voice being carried over the public address unit he had in his hand, his emotion coming out harshly as his throat was parched.

The milling stopped.


"The enemy has received more reinforcements and they will begin another push within the hour. Already, the enemy advance is pulling away to regroup."

There was chatter down below as the news sank in.


Mark could not, for the life of him figure out what point the teacher, Scipio Arien, was trying to make but he figured he knew what the old man would say. As it turned out, he was right.



"But we will retreat no more!"

"Because... quite frankly. We can't." he spread his arms out.

"What you see around you is what we have left."

People turned to each other and then surveyed their yard-turned-fortress... seeing the hastily repaired machinery, the patched droids and equipment.. the massive medical ward and the moans of the wounded being heard over the deafening silence.

The old man cleared his throat and the eyes drifted back to him.

"Our armoured corps has taken the brunt of their onslaughts and the corp numbers now have dwindled to nothing.

However the creatures the invaders were using to bombard us are also silent."

There was no cheering and quite frankly, the old man expected none. It was just a fact that he was dispensing to a tired and exhausted crowd.

"When the last of the aliens return to their own camp, the rest of the defenders will come back into these walls to rest, get patched up and rearm one final time."

The old man gripped the railing hard.

"What faces us is the brunt of the entire alien invasion ground force."

The murmuring grew.

"They drew their numbers from what they 'conquered' so all could witness our death. Some sort of ceremonial end of sorts I suppose.

They outnumber our thousands by hundreds of thousands."

The murmuring grew louder. If hope dangled on a thread, the grip was slipping rapidly.

The old man's eyes were stone and his voice flat. "Our fighter corps ... what is left of it has been authorized to use what little planet buster bombs we have left."

People began to chatter as that sunk in. Planet busters were the strongest weapons of mass destruction Capricians had short of atomics.

"Our fighters will not be able to refuel or rearm! Their shots will have to count ... and a cruiser has taken up orbit over us... It's guns, in a few minutes, will rain down what damage it can before the enemy's own ships interfere.

And yet, the enemy will still have numbers! If any enemy has the luck of the devil, it's these @#%$!"

"Capricians..." his eyes scanned the uniforms of Vinda Corp employees. "Friends." he amended. "We make our own fates here. No one will EVER bend us!

We WILLl meet their charge!!...Every one of us who can stand, fight and pull a trigger!

We will halt their advance or die trying!

We have no more resources... no more supplies for the wounded...

We have nothing left..."

"Nothing left but .. us."


Mark Rubino's eyes narrowed at the statement and he spoke up into the silence, his voice carried over the general murmuring.


"No!" he shouted.

"Why is it when the government fails to fulfill it's duty to protect and serve it's citizens it suddenly falls on it's citizens to make the ultimate sacrifice while those leaders reap the rewards?

If we have nothing left, it's because our leaders failed to allocate properly. Failed to use it's assets in an efficient and wise manner! Why do we have to pay the price?

Has our government tried to negotiate with the enemy? At all? Even once?!

How do we know what the enemy wants? How do we know that they aren't here because of some misunderstanding?

Is the mistakes of our government worth our blood?"

He could see that his words were beginning to make an impact and the old man was shouting to have him removed and as soldiers gripped either side of Mark, he began to shout..

"DON'T LET THE STUPIDITY OF OTHERS GUIDE YOUR LIVES! THINK FOR YOURSELVES! YOU ARE FREE!!"

A god-like voice was heard everywhere and the old man, the people and the grimey conditions began to fade.

"That's enough. Open her up.."

And the chamber came into view once more.





"What am I going to do with you, Mark?"

Again, the student seemed unimpressed. "Why are you so mad? Most negotiators have to negotiate with their own government and look to the interests of the 'other'.

In the first exercise, I used my position to bind our government to helping the people of the new world and the government could not live up to it's commitment. Is that my fault?

In the second exercise, that was easy. The government was trying to cover over it's obvious mistakes by telling the people to go and fight. If the people are dead, there is no one to blame the government..."

And Scipio started to laugh.

Mark Rubino felt his face go flush behind his glasses, the first real emotion that showed through.

"Computer analysis of the second exercise, extrapolate." she called out and a simulacrum appeared before them startling Rubino.

Hespante smirked at the student's reaction. "Well, do you want the long version or the short version?"

"Just the short version, Hespante. Please."

The former Retainer bowed and turned to face the student. "Your interference split the moral of the soldiers and divided the defenders. As a result the invaders were able to overcome the defenses and all were killed. Capricia falls under the dominion of the Yuuzhan Vong and six months later launch an unprovoked attack on the Corporate Sector. Bonadan falls a month later destroying the Vinda Corporation and our Commonwealth is never born."

Hespante turned to Scipio, pointing to Rubino. "Still, the boy is a good orator. He's some skill to kill."

"Skill." Scipio murmured and Mark flared up in anger. "Now wait a minute! I didn't know you were replaying the damned last battle of Capricia!"

Now Scipio let her anger burst. "You didn't know! That's the point! That was your mistake with the first exercise too! You make a big show about being a good orator but there is more to negotation than speaking well! You are a representative of the Commonwealth government but you are the one who puts the government in difficult positions and when it doesn't work out, you bail blaming everything else but yourself! It is not the Commonwealth's job to bail out everyone's problem and it's not your responsibility to throw the Commonwealth's money around at problems thinking they'll be solved! You committed an entire fleet of food without checking with the government. Without the facts! You simply acted because you thought it was best to help starving people on a planet! Did you stop to think that maybe it was the government on the planet's responsibility to feed their own people. You starved an entire Commonwealth world undergoing a natural disaster and nearly bankrupted the Emergency Relief Funds!

You represent the government but you think the Commonwealth is God. It isn't!

We can only do so much and sometimes... sometimes, a world needs to learn a hard lesson for it's own good. Look what happened to Capricia. Did we like going through the Invasions? I dare say, not! But it pushed us out of our isolationists mentality and directly led to a partnership with the Corporate Sector!"

Scipio's voice softened. "You represent the government. You look to the government's interests. You also negotiate with others looking for a benefit for them as well."

"Then why does the government not support it's ambassadors?" Mark asked quietly.

"How so?" asked Scipio in genuine curiosity.

"In the first exercise, I had to travel to the world in a rented transport, stay in a sleazy hotel, eat second rate food and wear my old rags?"

Scipio allowed a slight smile to form. "Not every government you go negotiate with is going to instantly respect you. They are unwilling too (at first) or are unable to roll out the red carpet for you. So, yes, you will not be rolling in riches."

"Then how can we impress, awe.."

"Your job is not to impress or awe. Your job is to negotiate mutual concerns for mutual benefits. If there is none to be made, then there is none to be made."

"But if the planet or people I am negotiating with doesn't respect me then shouldn't my government provide a proper ambassadorial transport with a proper escort?"

"Mark," Scipio leaned in, "What difference does all this make? Does the size of your ambassadorial shuttle change in any way the facts you are presenting to a people or planet for beneficial negotiations? The first exercise was an exercise to show you that sometimes there is no beneficial negotiation for both parties. The Commonwealth could not afford to take on a planet unwilling to reorganize it's own resources to help itself not to mention coming into joint agreements with a galactic community. But you went anyway. Why?"

Mark shuffled his feat uneasily. "Because I knew I could sell it."

"And that is why you failed." Scipio leaned back folding her arms. "We are not there to sell to other people. We aren't galactic cons nor are we intimidators. Without Trust, we are nothing. When we come into contact with a new planet or people, we do research. We investigate. We also take stock of what we can offer and if we can be of benefit to each other, we act."

"I did my research. That is why I was able to motivate them with my speech.."

"You simply spoke about some of the problems they were having and said the Commonwealth could eliminate them like our government is some sort of magic wand. It was a good and motivating speech but you said nothing about what they could do to help themselves or offer the Commonwealth in return."

"They had nothing.."

"Come now, Mark. The principle of Synergy is not unknown to you. Just because forces are not of equal input does not mean they cannot contribute to the greater output. You devalued an entire world. Why should they better themselves. The Commonwealth can take care of them!"

Mark Rubino suddenly felt tired. "But they couldn't better themselves and the Commonwealth didn't take care of them."

Scipio looked at the student with sad eyes, "Because you lacked something in all your exercises. Something you seem to lack now.


Belief.


You don't believe that people can act to better their lives enough to suit you so you put the burden on your own government in the first exercise.

You don't believe the government works in the best interests of the people and so you automatically assume it is corrupt and is trading the citizen's lives away in the second exercise.

And yet you are here in the program because you want to represent the government and negotiate with others (some of whom may be less fortunate or less advanced than us)?

You have good oratory skills but it is not words that motivate. It is the conviction, the belief... the honesty and truth that moves people."

Mark's head slumped at the finality of Scipio's words.

Hespante, who was quiet through this entire exchange, watched as the young man walked away dejected.

"He is a good speaker, Scipio." he added quietly.

Scipio turned an eye to the simulacrum and grinned. "Don't worry Hespante. It's always the more skilled of the students that give me a hard time. They always think they know it all and I have to spend time knocking them down before they are ready to actually learn."

"Ahh..." Hespante replied. "then perhaps you should direct the instructions away from negotiating techniques and focus more on negotiating ethics."

Scipio turned red and quipped, "Do you want to teach Program Seven?"

"Bah! Reasoning with you physical lifeforms is so tiring and not worth my time."

"Time you spend doing?" Scipio asked mischieviously.

"Bite your tongue, woman!" Hespante spat out and vanished.


Scipio chuckled to herself thinking about what to do with the student Rubino.


He'll learn.








Present Day



The Priory was life. The Priory was divine. The Priory was all.


The Priory was a sham!


Jander moved quickly, his robes swaying as his feet hustled across the tiled floor of the Templar Foundation. A man in his position, doing the things he did, if found out...would not be for long in this world.

And condemned forever in the next, he thought sardonically.


After Helton, he could no longer ignore the truth about their lives and had, for some time, directed the Transmitter (the Voice of God) towards a spot of space asking for intervention of those...elsewhere.


It was blasphemy to believe in life undivine outside their world. It was a gamble on heresy but Jander saw no other choice.


He could not set the transmitter on receive lest the Priory find him out.


But someone had responded! A ship had come and while the Priory had acted to contain the heresy, the proverbial line had been crossed. An investigation would be initiated.


If the craft was destroyed, surely others would come to find out why?

The Priory couldn't destroy all the ships! Or could they?

It was no small thing to dismiss the power of God.

Jander felt he was standing on the precipice.


There were others, he knew, who resented the power of the Priory, the 'collections' to be protected from the demons.

He could only hope that he could get to the startravellers before the Priory.


"Good Evening, Brother." he chimed with false cheer as he left the Templar startling a Priorite.


Get to the forest!

One Week Later, the Priory City Hotel

After pressing the snooze button in excess of five times, Mark Rubino finally rolled out of bed. He felt around to the back of his tricep.

Still healing...

The cut had been caused by a large section of Ambassador Seven's forward bulkhead had ripped away from the wall and nearly taken Mark's arm off as flew out the fissure in the ship's hull made by the missile.

Mark was make his way towards the refresher when his comlink began to beckon him with that familiar yet annoying chirping sound.

In mid yawn, Mark asked, "what Sive?"

"Look out your window Mark."

For all its shortcomings, bad room service, horrible food, wire taps, and even scratchy bed sheets, the Priory City Hotel did boast some breathtaking views. Mark's window revealed a beautiful, ornate gate that picture framed a rolling, lush, green plain that gave way to blue icecapped mountains.

"What am I looking for Sive? A gorgeous Zikanyoen woman bathing on her rooftop?"

The bodyguard let out an all too rare chuckle. "No... But I can see an old women that looks like she might have some Hutt blood in her putting out her laundry to dry."

Mark snorted.

"What I want you to see Mark is that company of soldiers leaving that city."

Mark quickly trained his eyes on the gate.

"Now Mark, we've been here... a week? And has anyone or anything gone in or out that gate?"

"Nope..."

What an interesting turn of events...

"Keep an eye on that gate Sive. I'm going to get ready for our meeting."

Mark walked back to the refresher and checked the mirror. He would have to shave today. His beard was approaching the status of unkempt. He then picked out a suit. It was one he bought on Astral Astoria. A hybrid of sorts, it combined Kuat style cut with a loud Outer Rim color. If Scipio Arien was here, she would surely raise an eyebrow.

Mark pulled out his notes. Negotiations with the Priory had so far been a disaster. The Commonwealth Destroyer Rapier had intercepted had been a cry for help made by the Zikanyoens that the Priory seemed to shun. During the numerous meetings with Priory officials, explanations for the message had ranged from denying the existence of any peoples outside the walls of Priory City to the message was sent as trap by fanatics bent on killing as many Commonwealth citizens as possible.

Mark felt like he was going in circles. Who sent this message and why? Today was his last chance to figure out. Tomorrow another ship would arrive to take him and Sive back to Bonadan.

"Mark! The soldiers are back!"

Rubino raced back to his window. The company of soldiers was indeed back, but this time they were not alone. They were leading, at gunpoint, a group of rustic and ragged looking people. From what he could see, the rustics appeared to be malnourished.

"Could these be the senders of the message?" Sive questioned.

Mark continued to watch until the group rounded the corner.

"Very well could be..."

Brother Maruso glanced at the soldiers marching back into the city with the rebels in tow. Their timing could have been better in his estimation as the foreigners were slated to be leaving soon.

Throughout their attempt at trying to weaken the Priory with their offers of mutual cooperation and questions into subjects that were really none of their business.

Maruso was tall and cut quite an imposing figure. So much so that most of the citizenry walked past him keeping their eyes lowered.

As they should!

His mind scoffed at the idea of cooperating with the heretics from offworld.

As if righteousness and lawlessness should join in common fellowship.

Commonwealth! his mind spat.

A government of common folks with a scant grasp on the intricacies of the way the galaxy was supposed to work.



It was bad that the rabble outside their glorious capital had begun to question the Priory's Will. But for members of the Priory itself to question the divine was almost too difficult to contemplate.

And if the foreigners got wind of divisions within the Priory, what damage they could do to their Order by playing them against each other.

Never in all the history of the Priory had so much trouble been caused by things so.. common.

His lips curled in a sneer at the thought of the villages of defiant rabble-rousers just behind the Capital and made an inevitable decision.

Never before were the common folks lives so...cheap.

Mark closed his eyes; thus, ending his last night on Zikanyo.

Part of the way through the night: searing pain, then the darkness of a sack woven out of plant fibers.

Later

“They were coming to kill you.”

Mark opened his eyes. He definitely was not in the Priory City Hotel anymore or even the capital city anymore. This new place was more rustic. The walls were of hand quarried stone and hardwoods.

“They were coming to kill you,” the unfamiliar voice repeated.

The ambassador turned over. A man, equally as rustic as the room, was sitting in a chair next to the bed.

“Where is my partner Sive?”

“Right here Mark,” a familiar voice said from across the room.

Mark sat up in bed. A pattern seemed to be emerging. The young ambassador seemed to be constantly being knocked out and then waking up in foreign surroundings.

This is annoying...

“Where am I this time,” groaned Mark.

“Chateau Raynone. The pride of Western Plains. Wine?”

“Please, anything to make this headache go away. Why did you have to hit me in the head?”

“The Priory Secret Police were coming to execute you. We had to get you out of there fast. We feared you would struggle, and we would all be captured.”

“Two questions, who are you, and why would the Priory want to kill me? I am an ambassador. There are laws that protect me from things such as that.”

“Excuse me, I never made an introduction. I am Matthew Raynone, captain of the Country Side Revolution. I have been elected to inform that what you know of the Priory is a fabrication.”

“Really? Well, in that case, more wine please.”

Matthew poured more purple liquid into the glass. Mark beckoned him to continue.

“The Priory is built around ancient technology from to some long gone race. Hundreds of years ago settlers, mostly exiles, discovered it. They achieved rudimentary proficiency and even managed to reproduce some of the tech in some cases. The settlers of the Capital Province began to use their new found power from this new technology to subjugate the surrounding chateaus. They carved out of small empire based on fear. Now they use their power get what they need. Whether it is food, wine, raw material, slaves… the Ruling Council will send out their band of raiding minions to get it.”

Mark to a big sip from his glass of wine. “Why did they want to kill me?”

“You were labeled as a heretic. Your off world connection could destroy the balance. They knew you and Sive were suspicious. They were going to kill you and blame you death on rebels. That’s what they said when your ship was shot down. That was us trying to recover you after the crash.”

“How did you know we were coming?”

“We sent the message Mark.”

“Your Government is our last hope. You see… The Priory is beginning a new campaign. They are sending out troops to overrun the chateaus. They are implanting the Zikanyoens they capture with neural implants they have developed with the ancient technologies. They will turn us all into slaves unless the Commonwealth intervenes.”

“Matthew do you have any means for me to communicate off world?”

“Come this way Mark.”

“Welcome to the Commonwealth World Councilor Raynone,” Mark congratulated.

The newly elected leader looked up from the document. Zikanyo had been liberated for barely three weeks. Matthew still carried his wooden stocked blaster to protect himself from Priory holdouts.

The United Chateaus’, as the now free peoples of Zikanyo now called themselves, battle for freedom had been quick. The Priory had been completely concentrated in the capital city. This was a trap they had created from themselves.

Using an ancient communications device, Mark and Sive had managed to contact the CWS Rapier, waiting in orbit for the Priory to turn over Mark and Sive’s bodies. When the star destroyer launched shuttles to retrieve Mark, the Priory opened up with weak shots from an ancient planetary defense battery. The twenty year old destroyer, now free from the Commonwealth Rules of Engagement fired back at the battery.

Once it was neutralized, the Rapier turned its guns on various the Country Side Revolution had identified as strictly military installations. The militias of the soon to be United Chateaus marched on the capital province. They were supported by the Rapier’s complement of Commonwealth Fleet Strike Troopers, and the Skull Company of the Death Watch Regiment.

The Priory Army, now stripped of most of its technological advantages, was easily defeated. Since, the battle the Capital Province has mostly been left alone. The city is being guarded, and some of the technology is being studied; but its status as the seat of power of Zikanyo had ended.

Sophiatown, a centrally located trading outpost, was the up and coming star of Zikanyo. Elections had been held the day after the planet’s new Constitution was ratified, and the planet’s new leaders now met in prefabricated bases and garrisons on loan from the Rapier. Though plans were in motion to turn Sophiatown into a proper capital city as soon as possible, it would be months before construction on a proper Hall of Voices would be completed.

Commonwealth technical advisors had arrived soon after the battle was over. It had been decided that their role would be as minimal as possible. The Commonwealth chose to let Zikanyo get its footing before it plunged itself fully into galactic scene. Though, the Commonwealth Service Arms were left open for all Zikanyoens as a way to better integrate themselves in the Commonwealth Society by means of well trained natives.

Mark Rubino and Sive Wilson’s mission of wonder had taken a turn for the better, as the Commonwealth welcomed a new member and new culture into its fold.