Scipio frowned as the military woman spoke and thought to herself as she shifted in her seat moving weight off of her injury, careful not to drop her cane.

That so simple a question stumps them can mean they did not really have high expectations of any sort of success (which smacks of desperation) or she is just the messenger.

But, which was it?

She decided to take the optimist's approach as most diplomats do.

"Well, as a representative of the Commonwealth government, I can appreciate your personal desire for help. However, because you are not representing the desires of your people and since it is unclear if you truly have your government's full support given their political obligations whether real or imagined there is not a lot in terms of official support we could give. To offer something official only to find that your people do not want it would create a very unnecessary and very political quagmire.

Therefore, I am going to assume something and just hope it does not make an ass of you and me. I am going to assume that you are here to grab our attention."

She turned to Admiral Wilkar, "Well, Captain, you've not only grabbed the attention of our military, you've also grabbed our government's attention. So I would say, mission accomplished.

You seem to be dealing in good faith with us and are earnest in your desire for help. I am willing to go on a little faith and see if your leaders and if your people share that same desire.

I would like to recommend a change of venue and request that we continue this discussion on Gestalt with your people's representatives."

Scipio grinned at the scowl that started to form on her Admiral's face. "And the good Admiral here? He'll be tagging along to ensure that our collective rear ends do not get shot off by militants."

CWS Rapier


“Do you study history Admiral?” asked the ambassador, Mark Rubino, timidly.

“Why even bother Rubino, it’s just one fucking thing after the other, I have found it to be a truly a futile pursuit,” answered Wilkar.

“Scipio said that you were a crass one,” remarked Rubino.

Wilkar turned in his command chair to the ambassador, who was standing at his side. “Piss off.”

Wilkar let loose a pensive sigh. It had been simple: accept this mission, or the Armed Services Oversight Committee would force him into an early retirement by terminating his already tenuous commission. It amazed the admiral how quickly politicians moved to commit such blatant perfidy against old war heroes when their own narcissistic interests were concerned.

The admiral stood up from his command chair and walked to the bridge’s transparisteel viewports. The unremitting chaos of faster than light travel never failed to put Wilkar in a state of stupor, almost as consistently as a Deranin prescription. Though he managed to tear himself away from the viewport and returned to his chair.

The grueling journey, circumnavigating almost the entire galaxy, was almost to an end. Split into five legs, the marathon voyage had involved many risky maneuvers, including a brief course correction in the middle of the New Order’s fledgling Borderland Protectorate. The Rapier along with its pair of escorts and its Colonial counterpart, the Restigouche had attracted some attention, idling in Imperial territory, but they only remained only long enough to punch new coordinates into the navicomputer and show the confused Imperial pickets a choice finger.

The voyage to Gesalt reached its crescendo after the vessels of the impromptu convoy were refueled just outside a major Imperial shipping lane by an Elroodian tanker. Quickly accelerating past 2000 gravities, the convoy blew threw the last Imperial checkpoint between them and Colonial space.

Wilkar broke from his reminiscence as the ship came out of hyperspace in Gesalt Space.

It could be said of the Colonials that they certainly knew how to roll out the red carpet, warm up the welcome wagon, and generally make their welcome guests feel just that; welcome. However, one might have noticed in watching the spectacle unfold, the sheer magnitude of their greeting bespoke of time-consuming preparations insufficient to frame within the borders of an already established time-line-of-events. Cake and custard aside, the people of the Gestalt Colonies did indeed seem inclined to extend the olive branch of friendship.

Captain d'Foose hoped that their efforts were well met by the Commonwealth envoy. From her position aboard the bridge of the Restigouche however, she was not present to catch the reaction of Scipio Arien. Here was a woman who struck d'Foose as a shrewd tactician and doubtlessly highly educated. She doubted highly that the Ambassador at Large had failed to notice the grandeur of their welcome but hoped she understood, had even appreciated, the position they were in.

She had told them she was not alone. This proved it.


*


Days Earlier...

“A change of venue,” repeated the holographic image of Lance Shipwright confidently. “Much as we predicted. Everything is prepared for your grand welcome home.”

Uneasy for reasons unstated, d'Foose wrung her hands behind her back anxiously. Lance, as usual too preoccupied with his own thoughts, failed to noticed this immediately so continued their discussion without pause.

“Did this Scipio make any proposals?”

She nodded. “Home.”

It seemed to dawn on him now the source of her consternation.

“They want to come here?”

She nodded.

“You seem nervous about this, why? We anticipated this move. It is the only logical course of action.”

“Well,” began d'Foose apprehensively, “these are not ignorant people. I think... I'm worried they might think we're being underhanded here.”

Lance smiled a serpents grin.

“We are being underhanded, Captain. This is how the game of galactic politics works. We went to them seeking help...”

“Help is one thing,” she interjected. “But...”

“No buts, Captain. You've played your part perfectly. I will see you when you get home. Safe voyage, Captian.”

“We buzzed Imperial space,” she put plainly before he could terminate their connection. “And the Admiral had his ships re-fueled by an Elrood dispatch freighter...”

Lance redoubled his sinister smirk, snaking his tongue across his lips almost as a reflex action.

“It looks like this Admiral Wilkar has done as a great favor. God speed your return.”

“Aye aye.”

Moments later, not long after the hologram had vanished, alone in the silent solace of her private quarters, Captain d'Foose realized that this was long from over.


*


The spires of the Seven Cities Area were lit up like giant pillars of light thrust up into the evening sky. From their seats aboard the Colonial shuttle the Commonwealth party were offered an unparalleled perspective of the metropolis spread out below them. Even from their high vantage they could see the crowds and throngs swelling through the streets towards the parliament center. Even the noise of their transit was not lost to the distance or the roar of the engines. Below waged the musical uproar of a joyous celebration.

“It's amazing, looking down on that, and considering how much we have built in so little time.” This was Captain d'Foose speaking from the cockpit of their conveyance. She had chosen not to ride in the same compartment as her guests choosing instead to personally oversee their transit to the surface (and in the doing – assured herself of a continued role in this unfolding drama). Her voice was audible however. “I guess they put out the word. I am sorry if you were hoping for a less auspicious arrival – my people celebrate your presence here.”

“You have to understand, it is not disloyalty or a disservice we do the Coalition,” they were nearing the landing pad now. “It's just that out there are thousands of people who have lost faith in the Galactic Coalition of Planets. Your being here shows them that there are alternatives, answers outside the Coalition, outside Prime Minister Regrad and his band of rogue states... like Onyx.”

It was the one thing she had been saying over and over again since meeting the Commonwealth's best, it was the one truth that had sent them searching for security beyond the borders of that galactic government; the people of the Colonies did not want war, not war with the Empire or anyone else. She had expected Admiral Wilkar to speak up initially, to call her out on her aims and ambitions which, honestly enough, only went as far as the security of the Colonies. She had half expected Wilkar to immediately approach the situation militarily, to suggest sending ships to secure their space against Imperial hostilities. That had not happened, of course, but if Shipwright was correct in his guess then indeed Wilkar had done them a far greater favor in the selection of their route home. So she had rolled with the punches and found herself waist-deep in a political issue the very sort of which she had refused to get mired in.

With a soft bump she set the shuttle down on the landing pad and began unbuckling her crash webbing. They had landed on a dais raised at the rear of the Parliamentary Estate such that onlookers could gather at the distant gates and watch the arrival and departure of dignitaries, politicians or otherwise celebrity personalities and as d'Foose, clambering in to the passenger compartment, hit the release that would cause the doors to fold open, a great roar came up from behind those very gates.

Not hundreds, nor thousands, but tens of thousands of people, human civilians, rose up their voices and clapped together their palms in cheering welcome. It was overwhelming.

“Welcome to Gestalt, I am Vice Commodore Lance Shipwright,” spoke a mild, unassuming man clad in a suit that looked as though the offspring of traditional military fatigues and the cut-cold blues of the business world. “And this is Colonial Mister Paula Ramos. We, today, greet you with warm and open arms. Welcome.”

At that the woman identified as Paula Ramos, Colonial Mister of Gestalt, moved forward. She was a striking woman whose own style of dress matched with that of the Vice Commodore but with a decidedly more 'sexual' air in its form-fitting cut. She bowed her head softly while extending a hand first towards Scipio Arien, “Please excuse their opulence,” she said with a gesture to the assembled throng. “they are very glad in your arrival.”

“I believe I know most of your party,” she added with a smile and inclined her head towards Admiral Wilkar. “Admiral, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. If I may be so bold, please this is our own Admiral Ruben Mar-Veil.”

From the rear of the Colonial party sent to welcome their guests, a stern-faced man in his later years, clad in the traditional ceremonial whites of a fleet officer, stepped forward snapping off a crisp salute. “A pleasure, Admiral.”

Met with introductions in kind, the Colonial and Commonwealth parties slowly intermixed. After a brief moment of cordial greetings however, Paula Ramos rose her voice above the rest indicating that they may wish to retire inside for drinks, discussions and dinner. They had set up an informal meeting area in one of the Estates large atrium's. The atmosphere was selected to create an area conducive to discussions the variety of which did not require mediation, nor round tables about which to gather. Indeed even the selection of food and drink was miniaturized as to better facilitate the movement of those individuals present.

But it was Lance Shipwright with Captain d'Foose on his arm who had managed to single Scipio Arien out from the rest. As of yet the discussions had been topical, small talk, and everyone involved seemed to be avoiding discussing the meat of matters. The Vice Commodore aimed to change that.

“So, Ambassador Arien, what do you think of our good Captain d'Foose? I trust you two were able to discuss matters? Though I suppose it matters not, what with that jaunt through Imperial Space. Pardon me, I am assaulting you with my verbal disentary. I do hope you can understand our excitement at you're coming here and I hope that we have not jumped upon any guns but I do like to think that this is a good start. What about you, Ambassador?”

In the past…

Brandenburg, Genon

The younger Lucerne gazed out of the windows at a rare, gray clouded sky on Genon as the Pro-Consul continued her tirade. Her office followed typical Brandenburg norms in its neo-classical opulence, but somehow the walls were more curved, and a blinding white. The highly stylized elegance of the room made him as uncomfortable as the subject of their meeting.

“…This could quickly spiral into a catastrophe.”

“No,” stated the younger Lucerne, “I think it already is one, at least for Regrad.”

“For Regrad?” questioned Pro-Consul Thorn incredulously, “if the Gestalt Colonies leave the Coalition, what is to stop a mass wave of secessions from within the Coalition? I think this could set a dangerous precedent.”

“Dangerous for whom? If the Coalition is more of a handicap to the Colonies than a help, how can we blame them? I’m betting that Lance just wants the best for his people.”

Halfway across the room, the Kashan woman spun about to face the Rear-Admiral. Her eyes bespoke both of curiosity and disgust. Thorn’s upper lip slowly curled upward; her eyes narrowed. She leaned up against her desk.

“Maybe it is, but it just reeks of disloyalty.”

Corise slowly shook his head. “The galaxy isn’t black and white. Not every decision we can make fits into one of those categories. I think this is a gray decision. One might argue the ethics of loyalty, but how does that match up against following one’s beliefs to try and make the best choice for an entire people? From what I hear, secession is also a widely supported view within the Colonies. Do we become the Empire and suppress te freedom of choice of millions of people? We would become no better than the Galactic Liberation Front or the Black Dragon Empire. We need to keep an open mind. I don’t see why we couldn’t end up in a similar situation at some time. As a member of the Coalition, this overture may look somewhat treacherous. What do they owe the Coalition for everything they’ve done for the Colonies? I do not know. Do you?”

“They? Did not we do things for them?”

The younger Lucerne slightly squirmed in his seat. “The relationship between the Confederation and the Colonies is that of mutual friendship. They have done things for us, and we have done things for them. Personally, I think we’ve had the best relationship with Gestalt than any other government, including the mainstream Coalition. I do not see why that should change because even if they do switch sides to the Commonwealth. We are already on reasonably good terms with them because of the Budpock affair.”

“And do you know they won’t change?”

The Rear-Admiral blinked. “I don’t. But we’ll soon find out…”



In the present…

Sentinel-class Shuttle Java

The three-winged transport flashed into real space from the Gestalt-Kashan Hyperlance with a pair of Deathsabers on either side. Corise stood at the entry way of the cockpit, gazing about the system. It has been too long. And the signs of progress. It seems like Starwind was just yesterday and the Colonies were just beginning to form. Now they are a reasonable industrial powerhouse for their size. He made eye contact to his pilot, who shook his head.

“Nothing sir. It looks like everyone is focused on the arrival of the Commonwealth delegation.”

“That or they don’t recognize the Java as being your ship,” commented the co-pilot.

“That would not surprise me in the least. The last time I was here I came with the Seraph. That’s slightly different than a shuttle,” replied the officer, “No matter. This may prove to be better yet. Take us down to the party. We should have a priority code from the Hyperlane. Use it.”

“Yes sir.”

“So, Ambassador Arien, what do you think of our good Captain d'Foose? I trust you two were able to discuss matters? Though I suppose it matters not, what with that jaunt through Imperial Space. Pardon me, I am assaulting you with my verbal disentary. I do hope you can understand our excitement at you're coming here and I hope that we have not jumped upon any guns but I do like to think that this is a good start. What about you, Ambassador?”


A laugh of delight bubbled up in the Commonwealth Ambassador's throat and her hand rose to her mouth out of etiquette. She shook her head while clearing her throat to indicate that she was not attempting to insult the Vice Commodore. "Forgive me, but the good Admiral Wilkar and I had a running bet as to who would approach first, the military or the politician," she said, stealing a glance at the Colonial Minister, Ms. Ramos.

Scipio took a glass from a passing waiter and took a tentative sip. Clearly liking the drink, she grinned at the Commodore. "It seems the Admiral owes me a bottle of Hive nectar." she finished, almost as if to herself.


Giving the Vice Commodore, her full attention, she answered his question, "Captain d'Foose, to me, seems a very capable officer. She fulfilled her duty, no more and no less to the letter of your expectations as I see them. Such discipline is very impressive indeed. She was able to convey to me her (and more than likely your) desire for help. And I agree that happy, screaming throngs of people," she waived a hand to encompass the celebration, "do make for 'good starts'."


She took another sip of her drink and her smile went grim, "Negotiating with us, however is only half the battle and the latter half at that. Why you are dragging your feet fifty percent of the way is still unclear to me.


I had originally thought, based on the military predictament you find yourselves in, that you, Vice Commodore, would be the first to realize the danger and take action especially since your political element is somewhat hesitant to extricate themselves from such a destructive and entangling alliance.

I figured your sending out of Captain d'Foose was to push/force your political leadership into action." Scipio frowned to herself, "But upon arriving here, I see everyone in agreeable accord, from the masses to the leadership. So, I have to ask: What is holding you back?"


The pain she was feeling within her leg while she stood with her cane was beginning to wear on her and so she moved over to sit down. As the other two people moved over, ensuring their departure from other standing groups of people, Scipio elaborated, "I will speak plainly. The Dragon Imperium attacked a Coalition world and the Coalition chose to classify that attack as an 'act of war'. As such, the Coalition went to war. Now, the Empire has done the same. You (as the Coalition) are weaker and in no condition to fight such a war so it can be concluded that your attack against the Empire was ill-advised.

So, yes, war with the Empire could spill over into all it's member groups, including Gestalt, and I suppose that is what the Coalition Prime Minister (therefore your Prime Minister) is hoping to avoid by travelling to Coruscant.

But if he fails and dramatically calls for a fight to the death, then yes, the Coalition member states, including Gestalt, in my opinion would be royally screwed.

So, in light of all this, in view of Gestalt being so against the decision-making process of the Coalition, what are you still doing in it?

With war looming any day, why is has there been no unanimous separation?

Why has there been no independent diplomatic party sent to Coruscant from the Colonies to negotiate as an independent entity for recognition?

I cannot imagine the Empire not willing to give it to you, especially since it will separate you and thus weaken who they consider their enemies. I can appreciate it is a bad situation for the Coalition member states so you will have to really weigh if what is important to the Coalition leadership is really important to you and your people?

Will the Coalition not recognize or allow a move for independence? I do not think they are in a position to demand such nor could they enforce it militarily for any appreciable length of time.

If, however, you simply just are not going to separate yourselves, why should the Empire view you as a separate entity? How can you expect us too?

If we send you military aid, we would be aiding an enemy of the Empire, (you and therefore by extention the Coalition) whose charter you are still clinging too.

If you expect us to come all this way, the least you can do is meet us halfway as an independent state, I would think. But, if you can let me know before the official talks start as to why you are refusing to do this or have not already done this, it might help me better understand your situation."

Her smile flattened as she pressed her lips together, "And do not read more into our little jaunt through Imperial Space than what it is. It is not as closed up as you might think. We would not enter an Imperial System without their knowledge but the space between is less controlled. We pay fees for such transit as is expected and we deal with the Imperial bureaucracy almost on a daily basis. Such is the nature of trade and diplomacy and we have gained the privilege through hard work."

Something she had said stuck with Shipwright. He puzzled over it while she spoke even then contemplating his response. “What is holding you back,” she had asked simple and plain with emphasis on the word ‘what’ such that seemed to indicate, at least to the Vice Commodore, that she was fishing for something solid.

If it was the firmament that she sought, Lance determined she should have it.

“You asked me what is holding us back and from that I infer that you are curious why we have not made formal our qualms with the Coalition, that you are seeking something concrete to take back to the Commonwealth upon your return.”

Lance Shipwright sighed, spread his palms and raised them to the heavens high above.

“I give you Gestalt. She is what holds us back.”

At that he turned, kneeled (as she was seated) and set square his shoulders with her own before sending deep his most penetrating stare in to the wells that were her eyes and aimed to plumb their deepest depths. Something undefined happened then and as it has happened so often before, occurred with such subtle brilliance that its discovery was shared between Scipio Arien and Lance Shipwright alone. He dispensed then with all pretenses and pomp, dismissed his unquantifiable defenses, and set upon her with his most sincere of intentions made clear in his features. Were there music to accompany it would doubtless now sully sorrow deeply, and reveal a moment of truth and simple honesty? Perhaps even a glimmer of light, the reflected light borne of some far distant star, glimmered within his eyes and he spoke…

“The Empire sits to one side of us and a confused, hurt Coalition surrounds us to the rear.” He motioned to the stars made invisible by the daylight luminescence in a distant, off-hand sort of way that allowed him to remain fixed, his eyes locked with the Commonwealth Ambassador at Large, Scipio Arien. “The jackals live upon our stoop. A wise creature does not cackle its intentions aloud, does not alert its potential enemies to its own potential weakness.”

The room had seemed to pause sensing the gravity of their discussion and now, breathing deeply in an effort to regain the composure expected of his office he saw that, to a man, everyone had turned their attention, to some degree or another, towards the pair. Uncomfortable in that moment, Lance withdrew to his feet. The atmosphere seemed to shift at that and those previously engaged resumed their prior activities.

“I hope you will excuse me,” he searched, “if I waxed poetic when plain words would be better suited.”

Smoothing his surcoat Lance continued, “You are correct in your appraisal of the Coalition… of our Coalition and our Prime Minister.”

The word “our” had been repeated twice, each time with the venom of a pit viper upon a daggers edge.

“Our,” he uttered it again. “The word tastes foul on my tongue. Know this, whatever the future of our society here among the stars no man, woman, or child within the Colonies will be required to offer fealty to any governing body in which we have no say.”

“What we have tried to say, without having come out and done so, is that we children of the Colonies cannot, will not willingly endanger ourselves or those we love. Regrad and his bunch have not been made aware of our desires because, plainly put, it could do us great harm. Free from the supposed protection of that great galactic body what assurance is there that those who see us as dangerous will not move in that period to make their interests secure? The office of the Prime Minister is no vestibule of guarantee.”

“So, is this clandestine and underhanded? Perhaps so, but only in so far as necessity dictates. With your arrival here it is very likely that the Coalition member-states will now start to see the emerging pattern and that, by my estimation, is enough. If that body cannot be held to the contents of its own charter then, tell me, why should we feel compelled to treat them with less perfidy then they have seen fit to bestow upon us?”

The Vice Commodore had regained his previously calm, collected demeanor though he still allowed a trace of ambivalence filter through his intonation when speaking regarding the Coalition outside of the Colonies. Sensing that a change of gears was well within order Captain d'Foose spoke up.

“It is not as though the Coalition is fraught with failure,” she quipped. “The Contegorian Confederation is a prime example of that.”

This seemed just the right fit and even the Commonwealth Ambassador seemed interested at this, quirking her eyebrows in accordance with that curiosity and encouraging, though not directly, a further explanation of this comment.

“Indubitably so,” agreed the Vice Commodore. “I believe Corise Lucerne is present today, somewhere within vicinity. This is a prime example of what can exist beyond the Coalition and without the stigma that body elicits from… well, let us be honest…. Everyone.”

“But the point is this; when it comes to formal talks you will find the Colonies unrestricted in their negotiating abilities, which is to say free of the yoke of Coalition oppression. You have my promise of that, Ambassador.”

Very dramatic, Scipio thought. The measure of the man's passion and depth impressed the Commonwealth Ambassador.


However, his response also underlined the the basic element that was pulling and motivating the environment in which they acted.


Fear.


Captain d'Foose ellicited it when they first met and now so did the Vice Commodore.


The quintessential: What is going to happen if we do this?



It was not an unreasonable fear but, coupled with an isolationist attitude it could be crippling. Capricia was once such an isolated system that had no interest in the rest of the galaxy. They just wanted to live their lives as they saw fit. Inevitably, the galaxy saw fit to not leave well enough alone and Capricia was twice invaded. The first time prompted the Capricians to explore and establish relations with other planets, other races. The second time told the Capricians that things were going to happen whether they liked it or not and so they decided if things were going to happen they might as well happen on their terms. And out of that their entry into the Commonwealth was sealed.


The attitudes she was seeing seemed to indicate that these people were standing on a sword's edge. Fear of Coalition reprisal for their separatist desire and fear of the Empire's reaction to being a small independent had basically immobilized the Colonies.


She did not yet know enough about their society to understand how their government worked. She had briefly met their political leader, Minister Paula Ramos, but this Lance Shipwright was a military leader (if his rank was any indicator) and if Captain d'Foose's story was any indication, founder of the Colonies. How much political power did the man wield?

If the people, if the Colonies and Minister Ramos went a certain direction, would the Vice Commodore go along (even if he disagreed) or was he the real power behind Gestalt and everything else dressing on the cake?

Wherever the truth lay, it could not be ignored that the man was critical to the decision making process of the Colonies. Therefore, when the man kneeled and stripped away all pretentiousness, she saw a glimmer of hope. Even if the man was some sort of benevolent dictator type, he truly seemed to be a good man intent on guiding his people right.

Were not Gomorran Kay, Leantre Vio, Seth Vinda and Dakkon Darksword also benevolent dictators in their own right the Commonweath having been born from those such as them?


And yet, it also seemed to her that the Vice Commodore wanted to hide behind the shield of the Commonwealth and have the CW Diplomatic Corps deal with the fallout with the Coalition and Empire.


If the Coalition and Empire were not poised on the brink of all out war she might have let it slide running the Diplomatic Corps ragged but times had grown dangerous and it was now a time for action.


Despite her pain, she lifted herself up and looked the Vice Commodore in the eye. Being a tad shorter than the man, she had to lift her head but the gesture by no means diminished the sudden hardness in her eyes.


"Everyone, including jackals, exist according to their patterns of behavior. If the jackals are circling Gestalt, THEN STAND UP and flex your strength!" She brought her cane down firmly on the tile floor, the hollow thud spreading outward. "Jackals are carrion eaters and attack only that which they perceive is weak or easy. Just because they perceive you as weak now does not mean you have live up their expectation. It does not mean you are defeated before you start! Of course, standing up to them also does not mean you adopt their attitude and pattern of behavior but you must show them that to attack you is to cost them. The jackals will move on to easier targets, believe me."

One phrase that Lance had stated resounded in her mind: If that body cannot be held to the contents of its own charter then, tell me, why should we feel compelled to treat them with less perfidy then they have seen fit to bestow upon us?”


"I do not know why the Coalition did not consult you for this war and I do not know why your people do not have a say in their futures. But to repay back to this Coalition, in kind, breaking off your association with them without notice is not the way to act. Why? Because you should have a code of honor that remains inflexible to outside corruption. A code of honor that is not shed when it's convenient just because someone does us wrong but one that remains a firm anchor in whatever you do.

Remember, as an independent nation or as a Commonwealth member, you will still have to deal with the Coalition and the Empire on some level or another; perhaps as a trading partner. In such diplomatic negotiations aimed at boosting the Colonies standard of living, having that anchor gives you respect, even if it is begrudgingly. Therefore, I still think a formal cessation, if that is your aim, should be sent to the Coalition. According to their pattern of behavior, I expect them to honor it." She smiled grimly, "It's not as if you are joining the Empire after all."

"And as for the Empire, as stated, everything exists according to patterns of behavior and to a large degree, the Empire has tied itself down to the Order it itself has imposed in it's territories. When dealing with the Empire, Imperial Law can be your greatest ally. You find that its military mindset and its propaganda machine are set to get the better of others.

Knowing that, we do not try to get the better of the Empire and this is something they cannot fathom as it is not their method of operation. We do not break it down into an "us or them" mentality and because of that, they do not perceive us as a threat. If they do not perceive us a threat, we are not a threat and so move on to give attention to those things that are. It takes great diplomatic skill and patience to do this and we are not always successful in little things, but by and large, the peace has been maintained.

The reason why I say: 'go to the Empire diplomatically' is because they have set the rule down (in propaganda) that any galactic event of which they are not apprised is something to be suspicious about. That is how they spinned the Kashan/Confederation's joining the Coalition and that is how they can spin your separation. If they are not officially told you are no longer a part of the Coalition, they could simply invade on the premise they did not know..if they were so inclined to invade. It is true that you do not answer to them as an independent but seeing as what they do may affect you, their understanding of the situation should be of paramount importance to you. And you have no idea what they do or do not understand because you have not gone to them. It is a very precarious thing to put your safety in the hands of someone else. The Empire can be incredibly dense diplomatically when it suits them.


I would think that action should probably happen soon as the Imperial ships have crossed the Onyxian border and the Prime Minister of the Coalition is enroute to Coruscant.

Events are in play and these are events you should not be sitting on the sidelines of."


She thought a moment. "Perhaps Admiral Wilkar can take the Vice Commodore to meet with a high ranking Imperial officer... who was that person he liked?... Zell? I think it was someone named Zell.."

"The military have high importance in the Empire and you are the highest ranking officer of the Colonies, Vice Admiral. At least, I have not seen anyone of higher rank yet. Your political leader, Minister Ramos, would not be a person, I would think, they would much listen too as the military sometimes disdains politics. No, for direct, immediate action, it should be military to military."

Her eyes narrowed as she turned to scan the crowds thinking about Captain d'Foose's observation, "I suppose that depends on how you define failure. If you are calling the Coalition attack on Bilbringi a failure of the Coalition, then I must ask if the Confederation participated in it? An interlocking political system must share the triumphs and tragedies of each other so our political view of the Confederation only, realistically go so far.

This means it would be unwise for me to talk ill of the Coalition when they are nearby," she paused looking around for a Confederation uniform. "As for Mr. Lucerne, it seems to me that your example of what can or cannot exist beyond the Coalition is a bit premature as you are both, technically, still a part of the Coalition. Perhaps he is the Coalition's watchdog here to ensure Gestalt does not leave despite rumors heard? Given your paranoia that the Coalition will seek retribution, perhaps you have considered this?

I cannot say I personally know the man but if he's here, and a staunch supporter of the Coalition...then the advice I am giving you may not be very popular with him. But I am thinking of Gestalt and it's immediate need and not the Coalition's comfort right now.

Whether you decide to join the Commonwealth or not is immaterial to me, at this moment. I feel you have an immediate need to avoid being attacked and I want to ensure your safety as much as I can, in the capacity that I can."

Vice Commodore Shipwright listened intently while she spoke, indeed the entire Colonial assembly seemed to have dispensed with their own discussions in an effort to lend more attention to the events occurring between the Commonwealth Ambassador and their own Vice Commodore. He, as they, often found himself bobbing his head in agreement though more then once, as she spoke, he found a certain disdain for the tonality of these comments but of course he did not allow this to become evident in his reaction to her words.

“Honor is intangible; honor is the recourse of the weak. It is an excuse employed to force an objective. It is said that actions speak loudest and if this is the case what one fact can we hold as true? You speak of an inflexible code of honor not subject to outside corruption but no such thing is evident in any of the bodies mentioned within the course of our discussion. I propose that a ‘code of honor’ is, in fact, shed when convenience allows and, conversely, is only initially employed in the same fashion.” Lance focused on maintaining a neutral expression as he spoke in an attempt to convey that he spoke not in opinion, but his statements were based on simple observation. “Honor has no place among jackals, they will abuse it to best suit their ends. We are agreed then that this is a matter of dealing with beasts and creatures who have repeatedly demonstrated that they are not to be trusted. It is said that one should do unto others as he would have them do unto himself and if this is true, your suggestion that we stand and flex our might will guarantee reprisal.”

“You suggest we go to the Empire diplomatically, but I ask you again why we should bother? In truth the Empire hardly knows of our existence and this is a simple fact as demonstrated within circumstances that you are not currently privy to. If it is true that the Empire feels a paranoid need to be suspicious of what it does not know, then I assure you we are far beyond the point of mutual co-existence. The idea that we would return to them in some effort to find mercy in their relentless expansionist agenda is, to my mind, laughable. No, Ambassador,” a dangerous tone entered his voice, “we will not be going to the Empire in any capacity as it stands currently. If this is a obstacle on the road to some form of unity between our two governments then sadly this is all so much sand in the wind…”

“Excuse me,” the subtle but firm voice of Colonial Minister Ramos came from somewhere behind Lance. She appeared at his side. “Perhaps I can be of assistance here…”

“We can appreciate that you are not well versed in the history of our people and we are more then willing to instruct you in the events that have culminated in this great society of ours, but this is perhaps not the time for that. I ask that it suffice you to know that we are not a people inclined to submission from without and, to a person, every soul living within the Gestalt Colonies knows that the Empire works according to one paradigm and one paradigm alone. They have their propaganda, we have ours.”

She continued speaking, moving towards a man yet unidentified, “We are aware that no matter what our fate, no matter what destiny the future brings, the galaxy will still continue much as it has and in that knowledge it would be ignorant to assume we will never have to deal with the Coalition or the Empire again. This is obvious.”

Ramos paused and, opening a palm, placed her hand upon the shoulder of the unknown man. Obviously of a military bearing, he stood brilliant in his uniform which was not of Colonial fashion. “Allow me to introduce Corise Lucerne of the Contegorian Confederation…”

The man nodded sagely but otherwise remained silent.

“We will go to the Coalition. We will go to the Empire. We will go to them when we are strong and they will have no choice but to acknowledge our right to existence because we will assure it with might.”

“You see,” said Shipwright, “we are not alone in this galaxy. While the Coalition crumbles and dies around us you will witness a new emergence as those bodies within the Coalition seek their own answers. This is why you are here today…”

“Imperial Law is a joke and Admiral Lucerne can support that stance. It is a practical joke they utilize to deconstruct their enemies, a tool they wield to build themselves up and promote their own predestined right to rule this galaxy but when one looks closely and compares the actions of the Imperial power-brokers against the supposed laws they uphold and endorse one cannot help but find humor in the irony.”

“The peoples of Kashan and Gestalt have shared an intimate relationship since the inception of our charter. There stand no better friends in the galaxy then we Colonials and they Confederates. This will never change and this is why Corise is here today because if the Commonwealth cannot endorse a mutually beneficial relationship such as ours…”

Lance sighed, growing weary of this informal discussion and fearful that it would move towards a debate on galactic politics the likes of which would be the death of their hope. It was time to come out, to speak simply.

“Ambassador Arien, we the people of the Gestalt Colonies wish to attain membership within the Commonwealth and will make that request formally as soon as we possibly can but we understand that before that can be done we must bridge the gap between us, we must fill in the space between. I hope that here, today you have garnered a positive impression of us and it is my most sincere wish that we will be able to progress to a more formal arena.” With eyes searching across the room, Lance saw the determined support directed his way in the faces of those present. “Negotiations will have to be dealt with and, doubtless, concessions will have to be made and we are prepared for that but I must inform you, of what you have offered here, there are things we cannot and will not do…”

“We will not approach the Empire directly. If the Commonwealth requires that we ratify our actions with the Empire then, and only then, we would be willing to approach the Empire together and not alone.”

He started counting off points on his fingers.

“We will not inform the Coalition proper of our intentions until such time as our future is cemented, until we can be certain that the Commonwealth will support us in our move towards secession.”

“We will not betray our alliance with the peoples of Kashan and the Confederation for which it stands.”

“And last, perhaps most importantly, we will not willfully do anything that will place our people in jeopardy.”

“You are correct; there are events unfolding across the Galaxy which we could play a role in and, in so doing, assure ourselves a place in notoriety. I propose that what we are doing here is every bit as monumental. We are a strong, economically viable people and I feel that the Commonwealth would only benefit from our membership, much as we would see only the benefits of the same.”

“Where does this leave us?”

And there it was. After a few pokes to erode away the facade, the limit to which Gestalt was willing to put forth in this endeavor. A cliff shorn interestingly enough not by the strength of their fear as Scipio's mind chased but by pride.

Of what use was nobility if no one else was noble? And you shed a little bit of your soul off the top. Of what use was honor if no one else had it? Shed a little bit more of your soul all in the name of security, safety...peace.

Why treat with others since we do not trust their word. No, it was easier to laugh and hold in derision that which they did not understand than actually make the effort to learn.

Almost that very same well of thought Imperial Doctrine is drawn from.

Since when did sending a diplomatic effort become a subservient task? Since when did putting up with eccentricities of your opposite diplomat mean that you talked from your knees?

Pride allowed the Colonies to scoff at Imperial Law despite the successes of the Empire all around them. Successes that had them in fear of the Coalition being smashed to bits, Admiral Lucerne's opinions be damned.


They talk about the desperation of their situation on the one hand but scoff at the idea of sending a delegation because the Empire does not know about them. If the Empire did not know about them then what the hell were they afraid of?


They were very vocal about diminishing the Coalition of which they were a part with such disdain while hailing their personal relationship with the Confederation as strong and binding. But did they not see that with every desparaging comment made about the Coalition, they brought down and laid low the Confederation's own decision to remain a part of that government? Such comments were the things that tear down relationships ...not bind them closer.


If they did not have the self respect to officially unbind what was officially bound before in charter, what did that say about their commitment to yet another official agreement?


If they put so little stock into those pesky intangibles like "honor" what did that say about their commitment to other intangibles like: "freedom", "peace" , "liberty" and most importantly, that very intangible thing that all their actions would be tied too: "Their word"?


Corise Lucerne. There was his name again. It seemed that Gestalt held this man in such esteem and as she turned to look at the man in dress uniform, she could not help but think to herself, "What do you think about all this?".


For all their pious comments about the preservation of peace, they matter-of-factly talked of the dissolution of the Coalition pissing away all the hard work their Confederation compatriots have done or are doing to prevent that very thing.


“You see,” said Shipwright, “we are not alone in this galaxy. While the Coalition crumbles and dies around us you will witness a new emergence as those bodies within the Coalition seek their own answers. This is why you are here today…”

Never mind the fact that, in light of this supposed Coalition dissolution, those bodies will have no choice but to emerge and seek their own answers.


“Where does this leave us?”


THAT was a very good question and Scipio saw that their little conversation had no chance any longer of remaining private and secluded.


She looked up at the Vice Commodore trying to figure the maze that was the man. "It leaves us with a bridge to be built tomorrow, Vice Commodore." she answered simply.

Obviously, this was not going to be as simple as calculating a jump to lightspeed. Actual work was going to be involved here and it was something she was not a stranger too.

If, by her endurance, these people thought she was demeaning herself....

If, by her patience, these people figured her for someone less than who she was...

If, by her holding to her honor, her word, these people thought her weak...




...Then they obviously had a thing or two to learn.



"I am pleased to meet you, Admiral Lucerne." she said, turning to Confederation man and giving him the greeting she had been giving since arriving at Gestalt, her fist over her heart and a respectful nod.

"Tell me, what do you make of all this?"

In the back of the room, the Rear-Admiral looked around the gathering with a mixture of disappointment and annoyance. I come to check if the order of Gencore IIs went all right and I end up dealing with a potential political fiasco. He slightly grimaced and straightened his tunic. Through the Confederation, Corise had had a relationship with both parties before either had met each other. He could pick out a couple of Commonwealth personnel he had met at Budpock and had little trouble remembering the Gestalt faces he had seen so many times. No, it was not the people gathered here or their political views which bothered him. He blinked. It’s the politics. Being the highest-ranked officer within the Confederation had forced the younger Lucerne to routinely work with and understand politics, but he detested those responsibilities as much as many of the policies of the New Order. He rubbed his eyes. The Maker, we didn’t time this right at all. I must be dealing with something like jetlag right now, which wouldn’t have been a problem. I was suppose to talk to Lance tomorrow, not today.

He watched Ambassador Arien and Vice-Commodore Shipwright banter and discuss the issues from a distance. Every once and a while, he could make out a couple of words, but never truly enough to fully comprehend all the workings of the situation. Eventually, the dialogue could be easier understand as most of the rest of the assembley grew quiet. So there is some grain of truth to the talks of Gestalt secession. The Kashan man snorted. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. This comes from the Coalition member state which constructed illegal weapons. Lance may be a friend of mine, but I have never truly understood what drives him like this.

The Kashan man pressed from the back of the room towards the pair of leaders. So the question is this: how far will the bond between the Confederation and the Colonies go? Yes, there are some economic and military benefits derived from our relationship that have strengthened our bond. There are Confederate warships and crews patrolling the Colonies under Gestalt’s command. There is the hyperlane between the Colonies and the Confederation which has allowed a fair amount of trade between us. Heck, there’s even a bloody military academy here named after me. Which begs another question: how far is my friendship with Lance affecting all this?

He pressed forward, noting the familiar face of Ramos. As the two leaders continued to banter, the younger Lucerne slipped besides the Gestalt woman and continued to listen. Corise blanked out for a couple of seconds from before Ramos pulled him out in front of the two leaders.

“Allow me to introduce Corise Lucerne of the Contegorian Confederation…”

Rear-Admiral slowly nodded out of habit at them. Thankfully for the tired Confederate officer, Lance continued his discourse on the Coalition and the Empire. He cocked his head to the side as they both brought out points within the discussion, mentally noting several of them to bring up to Pro-Consul Thorn. Corise kept a close watch on Scipio’s comments, mainly because where Lance and his viewpoints were familiar to him, she and her viewpoints as an outsider were not. It’s little doubt that her skill has taken her this far. Lucerne snapped out of his thought process as he heard his name.

“I am pleased to meet you, Admiral Lucerne…”

She produced a relatively foreign motion which the man interpreted to be a greeting. He briefly hesitated and offered an abbreviated bow. The Commonwealth ambassador continued.

“Tell me, what do you think about this?”

An open-ended question. Wonderful. I’ve spent too much time around journalists and politicians to play this game. Corise shrugged.

“I cannot speak on the behalf of the Coalition or the Confederation, or even as a member of the Confederate Armed Services. I can only offer you my personal beliefs. I have known Vice-Commodore Shipwright since shortly after the Colonies was formed. From what I’ve seen, I do not doubt his ability to lead his people where he thinks it is best for him, especially when the majority of his people support him. If he thinks this is the best choice for his people, I do not see why he shouldn’t follow through with this.”