Seraph, en route from Genarius to its moon Uffel

“Obscene.”

The doors hissed open, admitting the pair of dark-clad figures.

“It is necessary.”

The doors shut behind them. Quietly, the man paced over and sat behind a desk. Her mouth dropped in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.”

“On the contrary, I am quite serious. You know me better than most.”

Her mouth clenched shut in determination before slackening under his gaze.

“Take a seat Christina.”

The Kashan Commodore leaned over his desk, his elbows resting on his office desk. Corise hated offices in most cases; he generally preferred using his quarters or a conference room aboard the Seraph for most of his day-to-day work with people. But for once, he found it fitting. His consort reluctantly eased into a dark-stained chair within the marble-sided office.

“May I offer you a drink before we get started?”

She shook her head in silence before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Look, you know me in private better than most as well.”

Corise smiled. “You’re mirroring my word choice. That shows me that your diplomatic experience has become second-nature.”

She gave a sly grin. “Can’t pull off anything on you. You know, that combined with the Genarius maneuver would make you a fine politician.”

“Why thank you; my father taught me some of the basics in case that I took over the family business.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Kashan Defence Industries as your family business?”

He nodded. “Can you say otherwise? Lucerne founded and run for nearly 35 standard years? But we digress, if that was a deflection to the current subject, it was pretty good.”

“Must you analyze my every move?”

“In this case, yes, because this could be of very beneficial use to the Coalition.”

“You’ve just demonstrated that you understand that my diplomatic experience with anyone is based on building a rapport and understanding the person before actually engaging in diplomatic talks. And most of that is based on reading the person’s tone of voice and body language. And maybe more than that, it’s small talk and common interest.”

He nodded.

“Corise,” she sighed, “droids don’t have subtle or natural body language. Droids don’t have much interest except in their specific area of interest.”

‘But they certainly do have tones of voices. I can even recall a certain 3PO belonging to a certain Kashan Proconsul flailing his arms in distress when a certain Commander Fyre nearly shot him with a blaster at the firing range.”

She chuckled. “ Don’t bring my droid into this. Don’t get me wrong, he’s useful at times, but he can be so annoying. Do you want to spend three hours in a cabin with him?”

Corise stared off into the distance before shaking his head. “Your droid is too flighty and loquacious.”

“Then how do you expect me to spend nearly a week on planet completely populated with droids?”

“Well, the Iron Knights aren’t droids…”

She breathed out another exasperated sigh. “You’re right; they’re a crystalline lifeform that inhabits a body of a droid.”

Corise nodded. “You did your homework.”

“Let’s put it this way. I don’t want to be the only carbon-based lifeform on that moon.”

“You won’t; we’ll have to give a squad of Shock Troopers for protection.”

“I meant with the actual diplomatic process, unless their diplomacy involves mimicking Commander Fyre with a blaster pistol and taking random potshots at the populace.”

“Commander Fyre doesn’t take potshots; he just points the gun in a random direction and pulls the trigger as fast as he can.”

“Corise…”

“I’ll stop.”

“Thanks.”

“Would you stop complaining if I went with?”

She smiled. “Only if you’re with me as my co-partner in securing the treaty with the populace of Uffel.”

“Done.”

“You know, you’re so logic-based that you and the droids might have a lot in common.”

The Commodore’s left hand rose and planted itself on his face.

“What have I got myself into?”

She smiled.

The roar of the engines faded as the silver hulk of the cruiser coasted over the landing strip on the moon. S9s providing escort for the flagship continued forward; gracefully soaring upward into the moon’s atmosphere for patrol purposes. Halting to a stop, the Seraph deployed its landing gear before settling to the surface. And as planned, a docking tube from the starport extended to the cruiser’s airlock.

The delegation had been forced to wear breath masks and pressure suits because of the moon’s poisonous atmosphere. While the droids could have built environmental controls within their buildings to alleviate that, they did not. Apparently, the head of the entire colony, QS-2D, believed that the atmosphere worked as an excellent defence against organic intruders.

Because of that, the entire delegation was wearing protection of some sort. The Pro-Consul had settled for a formfitting pressure suit with a helmet that resembled those used by the Clone Pilots late in the Clone Wars. It seems more appropriate for some space-racing jockey, not a diplomat. Not that I’m complaining. He smiled. It’s probably a good thing no-one can see my face. Lucky for me.

Instead of wearing an outfit similar to that of the Pro-Consul’s, the Commodore had opted for something that would not only provide protection from the atmosphere, but would also emphasize his military power. Something that would seem natural for a military leader wear (which wouldn’t be a sporty jumpsuit). That something ended up being an Eagle Mk-III Body Armor suit; the type always worn by the Kashan Shock Troopers, although his bore rank badges and the various service tabs he had been awarded. Instead of the power packs and grenades the troopers carried, he had several data-chips, a datapad, several generic powerpacks, and concealed by the belt, a Merid FF-4. The hold-out blaster was a gift upon his graduation from the academy. His com-link crackled.

“Ready for sheer boredom?”

The Kashan Commodore turned his helmet to face his consort.

“I doubt it will be that bad.”

“Sure,” she smiled, “we’re already cooped up in these suits and it’s apparently not bad.”

Corise’s armored shoulders rose and dropped again.

“But you’re smiling, so it can’t be too bad.”

“No fair; you can see my face and, well, I can only see is something that should be worn by a droid.”

“At least it’s appropriate then.”

“Very funny.”

They reached the end of the tube. Sliding open, the airlock doors revealed an odd assortment of droids awaiting the Kashan delegation. They walked through doors as a scratchy rendering of the anthem of Uffel blared from the loudspeakers. The Pro-consul involuntarily cringed before forcing a more pleasant expression unto her face. Maybe we can trade them for so better sound equipment.

Corise’ gaze slowly swept through the surroundings, noting a large amount of labor and security droids. The threat analysis package on his helmet pointed out a large amount of security droids. He guessed that the security droids were likely present to protect the diplomatic proceedings. However, the labor droids were by far the most common droids in the room, particularly the various ASP models that had dominated the galactic scene for decades as well as the native MSF droid which Uffel produced in vast quanitities.

The room itself was a simple, large cube with duracrete walls that reflected the functionality of the exclusive droid society. From the looks of it, he guessed that it had served as one of the many warehouses and docking stations for the moon; where the supplies from the outside fueled the moon’s industry, made mostly of underground factories and mines that dominated the said moon’s economy. Of course, there was only one city on the planet named X2-4. The name was chosen by QS-2D; the colony’s founder. Typical for a droid’s naming conventions. It could use a better name; perhaps it would be better for business.

The music stopped as a silver-plated droid hobbled to them from amidst the mechanical citizens of the area. It was a humanoid shaped droid reminiscent of the 3PO series. From the files that the Commodore read, that was QS-2D himself; a heavily modified administrative droid based on a protocol droid frame.

“Welcome to Uffel, Pro-consul Thorn,” stated the droid, who then stared at the Kashan Commodore and his men. Seconds later, he noticed the rank markings on Corise’s armor.

“Ah,” nodded QS-2D, “you must be Commodore Lucerne. I’ve read about you gentle-fold in the Genarius holo-news. In any case, let us get down to business.”

Criminal Asteriod Belt

“Hey Boss, you’ve seen the news about Genarius joining the Coalition. Is that going to effect us?”

The aging crimelord turned his four eyed gaze to his trusted Lieutenant.

“Difficult to say. We co-operated fine with the Old Republic when it existed, and this Coalition seems a lot like it. We can’t do much about it, since it was the people’s choice. Besides, the Genarius Defence Fleet is more powerful than most of our ships combined. The only way we could change that is if we got the pirates to side with us, which could happen.”

“Would it be able to take them on then?”

“Maybe. That Kashan vessel is here though which has given most of the pirates a scare. There aren’t many vessels that can simply absorb turbolaser bolts.”

“And if we eliminated the Seraph?”

“It’s possible. But why attack someone that could be a potentially powerful ally. This we must consider in time. We’ll make our move after the Kashan are finished at Uffel. Besides, QS-2D was always fairly shrewd.”

“But-”

“No buts. We wait Twer. We wait.”


The youngster shrugged. “Whateva you say boss.”

With that, the young Rodian walked out, leaving the smuggler boss in contemplation.
---------------------
10 Minutes later…

“He didn’t budge.”

“Whatsa yousa mean?”

Twer shook his head in disgust. “I respect Nirama for his past, but he just wants to wait now. If he moved any slower, he’d be extinct. No, we must act now for the greater good of our organization.”

“Whatsa yousa mean?”

The Rodian turned to the Gungun. “I had a computer virus smuggled onto Uffel during Nirama’s last business trip there. Any droids that the factory has made since them have a chip that will allow us to activate some extra programming that will put us in control.”

“Woudsa tha boss besa ables tosa de-activates them, liksa da controlsa ship atsa Naboo?”

The Rodian could probably tear his Gungun compatriot to shreds.

“No, are you sane man? QS-2D is going to be very co-operative with us; Nirama had an explosive charge placed in the droid’s head. If anything goes wrong for us…Kablooey! It’s going to be an easy job.”

“Really,” replied Corise, fighting back a yawn.

The Kashan delegation had ended up in the droid administrator's office within minutes of leaving the Seraph. It was an abrupt move to the pair, who were more use to social gatherings and receptions that usually welcomed the diplomats. If anything, the move showed the pure pragmatic and efficient culture that dominated Genarius's moon.

“Yes,” nodded the droid administrator, “we could-”

The silver cylinder lying on the droid’s desk beeped.

“Will you me while I take this call?” questioned the droid.

“But of course, please take your time.”

Please leave for an hour at the minimum.

The droid’s arms clumsily fumbled over the com-link as it continued to beep. Finally grasping it, the droid abruptly rose and stalked out of the room. The door shut as Corise tongue-toggled his com-link.

“Sergeant Fuller?”

“Yes sir?”

“How are you holding up?”

The soldier hesitated.

“We’re fine, sort of.”

“Sort of?” questioned the Commodore.

“Ah, we’re coming up with unique ways of passing the time…”

Corise smiled inwardly as the sergeant continued.

“…such as seeing how many times we can reload our rifle in a minute.”

“Wonderful. The Pro-Consul and myself will probably be leaving in another hour.”

The man moaned.

“I know, it’s long and boring; things aren’t much better here in the office.”

The Pro-Consul turned to him.

“I catch up to later Sergeant.”

“Yes sir.”

He toggled over to the frequency shared by himself and the Pro-Consul.

“What’s next?”

“Corise,” sighed the woman, “I wish I knew. It’s beyond me how you managed to get him on that rant about how fast his factories can produce droids. Nevermind that that threw off the whole agenda I had planned.”

“We had an agenda?”

“Well, no, just a mental list of things that I had planned to talk about.”

“And?”

“I don’t know what to talk about; he doesn’t care about the weather.”

Lucerne wryly smiled underneath his helmet.

“Generally droids don’t. The only way that would work if it was going to somehow disrupt his operation.”

Christina snorted. “Probably.”

Their com-links blipped.
-----------------------------------------
“Ten, beat that Four.”

“Ten here, what?”

“Sorry Ten, I was stating that I beat’s Four’s old record,” stated Five proudly, “I got it down to 9 reloads a minute.”

“Five.”

“Yes Four?”

“I got 11 now.”

“Sithspit. You’re bluffing.”

The Shock Troopers had arrayed themselves in a circle within the lobby before the office in which the Kashan delegation had arrived. It had been fairly boring for the troopers, with little amusement. The occasional worker or office droid that passed through often left a little quicker than how it had entered, as the troops continued their blaster rifle drills. Thus far, there had never been more than two droids within the lobby at the same time, but now the corner was rounded by a trio of squat, two-legged droids.

At first, they appeared to be ubiquitous binary load lifters, primitive labor droids that moved boxes in warehouses and ships throughout the galaxy. The box-like torso with the walker-style legs was complemented by a pair of skeletal arms. But instead of the tray-like hands of the lifters, each arm ended in a set of heavy weaponry.

The droids stopped and slowly turned to face the squad of Kashan Troopers.

Sergeant Fuller toggled his com-link to the delegation frequency as his troopers took cover behind the lounge chairs and desks. Any available cover would do, or so they hoped.

“We might have trouble sir.”

“And what might that be Sergeant?” questioned the navy man.

QS-2D quickly hobbled up from behind the imposing droids.

“Sergeant, these are my personal body guards; they will do you no harm. I’m afraid the other droids in the city will, however.”

“What?” questioned the Kashan soldier.

“Everyone in my office. Now,” ordered the silver droid, continuing his way through the office doors.

The KDF squad quickly came out from their positions and ran in after the droid. Sensing the commotion, both Kashan delegates immediately rose from their chairs. QS-2D hurried pass them before quietly sitting. The android slowly tapped his fingers against the metal droid, reverberating ever tap throughout the room.

“I’m afraid that I have some bad news,” synthesized the droid.

“And that is?” asked Corise, resting his right hand on his belt.

“I have several kilograms of Nergon-14 in my head.”

“And that is what?” questioned the sole lady calmly.

“It’s a high explosive used in manufacturing proton torpedoes.”

Inside his helmet, Corise’s blue eyes dilated as his mouth dropped. His hand reached in and gripped the hold-out blaster, still concealed within the pouch.

“What?”

“I’m jamming all communications frequencies now, otherwise it will be detonated. Somehow, some of Nirama’s thugs managed to plant it in there when I was receiving a processor upgrade. Don’t worry, I’ve already informed your ship through a land-line so that they don’t get worried about the jamming.”

The Kashan sergeant moved up alongside the Commodore. “You mentioned that we shouldn’t be worried about your body guard droids, but why should be worried about any others?”

“The same thugs that planted the bomb in my head also added a slave-circuitry system to most of my new droids that I’ve manufactured. I don’t know how many droids it is effecting, but they are revolting.”

“So it’s like a civil war.”

“I’m afraid it’s worse than that; there are several ships headed from the asteroid belt that was the planet Oblis.”

Corise frowned.

“Isn’t that the belt full of pirates and smugglers.”

The droid nodded. “Yes, the lead smuggler is Nirama, and his men are behind all of this.”

The Commodore sighed. “I’m sending a starfighter to get back-up.”

“Commodore, I am giving you temporarily command of the moon and all of my security forces.”

“I beg your pardon.” asked the Kashan man.

“You,” stated the droid, pointing his finger at the man, “are a military man; you know war. I am administrative droid, I know nothing of war. Defend us and I’ll do better than a simple droid production contract.”

“And that is?”

“I will your Coalition, even your Kashan province.”

Corise frowned underneath his helmet. “We will still defend your planet even if you don’t want to join as a gesture of goodwill between us.”

“I know that. But if you can successfully defend us from this threat, than I will know for sure that Uffel will finally get the security it needs…”

Flagship Seraph, Uffel

Silence permeated the bridge of the Seraph, only marred by the occasional whisper between the crewmembers in the crewpits. And that barely made ripples in what should have been a sea of tranquility. Corise could hear the booted heals of Lieutenant Convarion approaching down the walkway.

"Sir?"

The commodore swiveled around on his command chair.

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"We have the latest reading on the piratical ships."

"Are they still firing on each other?"

"No, they've stopped, but the fleet's dividing up. ROughly half of them are heading back to the asteriods. The other half of them, including that Neutron Star light cruiser are still in-"

"Sir! The pirate ships are rapidly descending, faster than they should normally. It looks like it might be an uncontrolled descent."

Corise waved a hand. "Are all of them doing that?"

"Yes sir."

Lieutenant Convarion shook his head. "I bet it's not an uncontrolled descent."

Corise nodded. I bet they are moving fast enough that they hope to bypass our intercept. They'll have missed the Deathsaber trap as well...

"Move us at flank speed to intercept."

"Aye sir. We'll be there in five minutes."

Corise frowned. "They aren't above the city?"

The helmsman shook his head as he reviewed the sensor data. "No, they are several kilometers out. There's a chasm there they descended into. The chasm opens up less than a kilometer away from the city."

Of course. They know they can't win the space battle, so they're attempting to make it into a land war where they think their numbers of troops can simply overrun the city in combination with the rogue droids.

"Helm, set us down perpendicular to the trench where the gap opens up to the city," ordered the man, before turning to his army liason. "Captain, prepare your men to land on the surface. We will intercept them before they can enter the city."

"Yes sir," acknowledged the Shock Trooper, before exitting to the bridge.

"Recall the S9s. I want them to do some ground runs on the pirates rear guard."

The Flight controller merely nodded before getting on the comm.

The doors fell down unto the lunar surface with a clang followed by the thud of metal on dirt. Out of the dark hatchway, the Shock Troopers poured out before settling down on the surface as quickily as they had came out. The very speed and rush of the landing maneuver would have been deemed reckless by many seasoned army officers; they would have been rushing out into an area with no natural cover.

But this was different.

Uffel was nearly always dark, courtesty of the moon's forboding atmosphere; the many gases dimmed and clouded the very air that the men would be breathing if the atmosphere wasn't already poisonous. That, combined with the men hugging the ground, gave the men a natural cover, which prevented most of their opponents from seeing them except at very close range. The same couldn't be said of the Shock troopers, whose helmets used multiple sensors and optic screens to see through the darkness.

Moreover, their transport was still directly behind them, offering an emergency shelter in the unlikely event that they were being overwhelmed. And as the last of the troops settled down, the Kashan Colonial army fielded their most feared weapon; the Sentinel-class Medium Tank. Although it had never seen action against a real opponent before, it had been pitted up against simulations and used in live-fire excersises and war games with Kashan's various allies. It was a formidable weapon to the pirates, who doubtlessly fielded less advanced vehicles if any at all.

But by far the most impressive weapon blocking the path to Uffel's sole city was the massive hulk of the Seraph herself, resting behind the troops; she had been the sole transport used for the small army that dared to stand in the pirate's way. Already, the ship's targetting computers were piercing the lunar dust and beginning to get firing solutions for the ship's turbolasers and ion cannons with which to devastate the enemy units at range.

Seraph, Uffel's Surface

Emerald green bolts soared through darkness, piercing through men and machine alike. The screams of dying men should have permeated the battlefield, but instead they could only be heard on those wretched beings com-link frequencies. But neither of those elements, even combined, could compare with the dominant scene: vast clouds of lunar dust kicked up by men, machine, and various laser fire.

"This isn't much of a fight," noted Commander Fyre, gazing as the weapon's fire mowed down the ranks of marauding pirates."

Corise snorted. "It's certainly not a very fair fight-"

More laser fire surged across the battlefield, striking the Seraph. It was light fire, and with the Ultrachrome plating, it's effect on the cruiser would be all but non-existent. Nonetheless, the Commodore frowned.

"Sensors, are any of there ships in our range?"

"Negative sir, but all of that dust is clouding up the sensors. They could have moved."

And we would have been none the wiser.

"And the Deathsabers?"

"They're about a hundred kilometers away still."

"Send them in-"

"Sir, Greywind Five has reported the pirate armada leaving Uffel's orbit."

What?

"Can I get a reconfirm on that Flight Control."

The other Kashan officer nodded. "Yes sir. The other Deathsabers are reporting the same."

They must have left as soon as the dust kicked up. With our sensors being confounded by the dust, it wouldn't have been hard for them to slowly creap up to the surface and just float away.

"Lucerne to all ground units, advance and destroy all of them. Prisoners are acceptable, but don't make any special effort to take them."

With that, a series of "Yes sir"s reverberated throughout the bridge.

"For once," noted Commander Fyre, "you're not pursuing and destroying the entire enemy forces. What ever happened to the decisive victory?"

Corise managed a wry grin.

"We'll get it, but not yet," stated the black-clad man," Securing Uffel is of primary importance right now. If we just pulled up the Seraph and attacked them, we would leave our own ground units vulnerable to whatever is producing that turbolaser fire on the surface."

Explosions blossomed in the dust as the Deathsabers hit their marks. Sensor stream indicated that the sole piratical ship in the dust cloud had been an old System Patrol Craft. Corise snorted. The only thing it will be patrolling now is dust.

And through the rippling dust, Sentinel Tanks poured into, firing their cannons in random directions, slowly dwindling down the number of pirate soldiers. Directly after the tanks, ranks of the Kashan soldiers literally marched forward into the dust to finish off anything left on the battlefield.

The march seemed like an arrogant maneuver, because it normally would be. BUt such was not the case, with the attacks by tanks, starfighters, and the Seraph, it would take both the technology and the power of the greater galactic civilizations to match and stand against the Kashans. And such technology was rarely possessed by any criminal or mercenary faction. As the bootsteps of the Shock Troopers echoed across the battlefield, the few pirate survivors were shot, usually with a stun bolt, as quickly as they were found.

"Well," stated the Pro-Consul, "that was pretty fast."

The Commodore abruptly turned around to see the young woman. "When did you arrive?"

"About five minutes ago."

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

She shook her head. "You were absorbed in the battle. One shouldn't interrupt another's work."

Corise gravely nodded.

"Right. Speaking of work, how are things at the city?"

"They're all settled down now. It only took a single transport of shock troopers armed with DEMPs to subdue the droid rebellion."

"That was it?" questioned the Commodore.

"Well, Uffel Security provided a lot of droids as well, albeit they were more suited for destroying things rather than disabling."

"Are you saying that QS-2D had our troops did most of the work because he didn't want to damage his investment?"

She nodded.

"It turns out that most of the droids infected with the virus were the new MSF droids he has been turning out."

"MSF?"

"The floating version of the MSE; you know, the 'mouse' droid used on Imperial warships and the Death Star."

"Ah. Well, the threat is beaten back for now."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I bet they'll be back."

He nodded. "Which is why we're going to tyr to organize the rest of the system to prevent that."

"A mutual defence treaty."

He nodded. "Sort of. We're going to have to make some more stops..."



"

“You failed,” stated the raspy voice, “You failed us. You failed yourself. What did I ever tell you Twer? Selfishness does not make men great. Being deceitful in how you lead your people has led to open rebellion and defection within the ranks. There is not a captain now who trusts you. I don’t trust you, and because of your actions, there are doubts if my people can trust me and vice-versa. Your actions have alienated those you need the most. And all this because you wanted to show us that you were ‘the man’. Fool.”

Twer stared down hard at the rough stone floor, his hands coupled in maglocks.

“I want to die.”

Nirama squinted.

“Death is the easy way out; coward,” stated a nearby guard vehemently.

“I am no coward!” shouted the Rodian, turning about to face the guard.

Nirama raised a finger. “I believe he is right: death is the easy way out. Those who cannot take responsibility for their actions can never be great; for they never gain independence or power.”

“What are you saying?”

“You are going to take responsibility for your actions, for your attack on the Kashans and the droids of Uffel. How you deal with the manner is up to you. I will be informing the involved parties of the rogue element that just appeared in our forces, and they will know that you were the leader.”

The Rodian looked down.

“I am going to be hunted down. Exiled.”

“That’s certainly an option, but there other things you can do, such as surrender to the Kashans or Uffel or Genarius even. They might even take it easy on you.”

“Yes sir,” sighed the Rodian.

“Sir, I request a transport to Uffel. I am going to turn myself in.”

The crimelord raised an eyebrow. “I was joking about the turning you in part you know. There are other options. We could have you stay low for a while. Let’s hope the Kashans and Uffels accept the apology and the gifts.”

Twer nodded.

Nirama sighed. “I’m sending you to Cularin. I want you to acquire some of those gifts for them.”

Twer nodded.
-----------------------------------
Uffel

“Is everything back to normal?” questioned the Commodore.

QS-2D nodded, the light reflecting from his silver head. “Yes, for the most part. We’ve reprogrammed the rest of the droids so that it won’t be able to happen again. The Maker forbid. I must also thank you for the work done by your technicians in removing the explosives.”

Corise solemnly nodded.

“But,” stated the droid, “You’re not here for small talk.”

The Kashan man raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

“Because Pro-Consul Thorn isn’t with you,” mused the droid.

The human gave a questioning gaze at the droid.

“I might be a droid, but I know that females are more often the type for chit-chat whereas human males seem to get down to the point.”

“That’s a stereotype.”

“Even more so, both of you confirmed it when you visited.”

Corise smiled. “Which is why I am engaged with talking to a droid about the social roles of gender in regards to conversational style.”

“With that last sentence, you could have passed as a protocol droid with that vocabularly and style,” quipped the silver being, “but anyways, we digress. I am hoping that you and your people will accept Uffel into the administration of the Kashan provinces.”

“I should think that we will,” confirmed the armored man, “but may I ask why? Uffel can join the Coalition as an independent like Genarius as well.”

“We could,” agreed the droid, “but in my opinion, there are benefits of being directly aligned with Kashan that outweigh any possible disadvantages it may bring. I understand that the administration will probably want some of our factories output.”

Corise nodded. “True, but I don’t think it will effect your production lines as they currently stand. We need the types of droids you are already producing. In fact, I am willing to bet that there will be a proposal in the Kashan legislature for funds to construct more factories here for increased production, albeit there might be some new models in there.”

The droid appeared to be pleased as much as an automated being could be.

“Excellent. That has just confirmed to me one of the benefits of Kashan..”

“One?” asked the man.

“Certainly. I expect that there will be some sort of protection here as well.”

He nodded.

“A full wing of starfighters for sure, as well as several of our new gunships will be stationed here at all times. Those will be my orders to the fleet at least,” replied the man, “but Genarius owes us as well, so I will see if I can get an arrangement for them to provide some of their defence ships under your direct disposal as well.”

“This will grow?”

“Yes, in proportion to how Uffel’s production expands. That will probably go for the funding as well, but I can’t guarantee that, as it is the Kashan’s legislature’s decision.”

The droid offered a hand.

“A pleasure doing business with you.”

Corise grasped it.

“And also with you.”